She found herself at a wall. Misshapen at times and perfect at others. Build by many, built to keep the bad away. She watched for a moment, watched the other shadows build and add, watched them as they worked. The Goddess asked the same of her, and Rhryse happily complied.
A strange, dry bouquet. For some reason, she found herself drawn towards it, thinking it perfect for the wall. Perfect and perfectly suited to sit right there, right where she placed them. An image flashed in her mind. A young man, and she was happy. He was nervous and sweet and she was happy and hopeful. It was good. Rhryse shivered as the scene changed in her mind. Dead. He was dead and—It hurt. That feeling. That feeling of loss. That feeling that came when you let yourself hope and then it all fell to pieces.
The image shifted again.
The sound of glass shattering woke her. The voice that echoed down the hall was yelling. She pulled the covers over her head, hoping she could block out the noise. It wouldn’t work. She knew that. It never did. How long had it continued before she rolled she rolled out from under the blanket, placing her feet onto the cold floor? How much louder could the voices get? How many more glasses would shatter against the wall? Too loud, too many.
The volume seemed to double as she opened the door to her bedroom. Light from a window cut a crooked square across the hall, faintly blue-silver, faint shadows breaking it up. It was snowing. She’d known that before, the cold was a snow type of cold.
Another crash from the living room, followed by a thud. “I can’t believe you!” There were more words, but the screaming made them almost incoherent.
The girl felt the anger building up inside her. She hated this. It always went like this. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She wasn’t going to stand it anymore. So she made her way to the living room. The light here was yellow, a stark contrast to the soft blue light of the hall. The room stank of booze and the anger was nearly palpable. “What is wrong with you two? Why the hell do you have to do this every single time dad comes home?” She hadn’t meant to scream it at the top of her lungs, but she did.
Her mother looked at her and scoffed. “Your father just told me he lost the house. He doesn’t even live here and he lost the house.” Her words were slurred, and she held a glass of something in her hand. “We get to go live on the street while his new knocked-up girlfriend gets a fancy apartment to live in.”
“It’s not all my fault. If you hadn’t wasted so much money on liquor and clothes and that stupid school, it wouldn’t be an issue. But no, you two have to have your fancy things.” Her father was just as loud as her mother.
The girl stared for a moment, even as her parents traded words again. She barely heard them. New girlfriend? Wasn’t her father away for work? Stupid School? Was that really how he saw it? Losing the house? The fear and rage inside her bubbled over again. “What the hell? What the hell does this mean? Have you both been lying to me? What—“
“It means,” her father began as he grabbed his coat, “That I’m not paying for anything anymore. And you have to be out of this house in thirty days.” He didn’t say anything else as he left. He didn’t even bother shutting the door behind him.
“Yeah. Run away. Like always. Stupid foolish man.” Her mother picked up a bottle of something and turned toward the kitchen. “I hope you’re not planning on going back to that school. We can’t afford it and I’ll need you to help ….”
There was more after that, more words, more anger, more hurt. All Sherry remembered was feeling numb. She hadn’t wanted much in life, but she felt like they’d just taken it all away again, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She felt the Goddess. Heard her whispers. Then it was gone. Rhryse didn’t even miss the hurt, she hardly remembered it. There was no memory. Nothing to be sad about.
She smiled at the flowers. Smiled at the wall. The wall would keep the terrible things away.
Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 5:48 pm
Igny nodded ecstaticly to the goddess. She would do whatever the pretty lady asked of her. After all, the goddesses had protected her on many occasions- it was only fair that she should pay them back with a bit of assistance. Especially since the wall kept them so safe. Another blessing.
The flowers in the corner of the room called her. Each flower was tipped with four petals, a soft, dead blue color. They were dry, hard to the touch. The petals scratched against her smooth, greyish skin.
They were perfect.
They made her sad.
Igny placed the flowers into a small pile of mirrors, what would have to do as a vase. It was funny, when she put them there they acted as tiny screens, showing the flowers off in every direction through their reflection.
She looked up and there was a kindly man. ""Tell you what, Ben. You can help me with my button pushing thing. And then I can go with you on your mission, and help you with your looking around thing. Sound good?"
I-I am not Ben? She tried to choke out the words, but she couldn't speak. Igny was a bystander in this scene, with no influence on its outcome. Somehow in the murky memory, she understood this.
They talked for some time, feelings emerging in her chest that she hadn't known before. For Igny, it felt sweet, but painful. Like she was sharing the memory with someone else. This was not her memory, but she had a similar one. She just didn't know what that similar one was.
Looking down, she picked up a scalpel. What is this? she begged to ask. Why was it going down? Plunging into foreign flesh. She felt tears, pain, over and over.
"You don't need such pain. Not anymore. Not ever again.
Igny looked back at the goddess. The lady gestured to her cheeks, and Igny wiped them. They were wet. Had she been crying? That wasn't her, that was ...
Who's memory had that been?
Was that hers?
"What does it mean-" The goddess didn't answer her. She breathed in heavily, taking the memory upon herself.
Igny blinked. "What ... what was I saying?" She couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember?! What was missing?!! Her hands went to her head. It hurt. It hurt not remembering what she was supposed to.
The flowers were in full bloom. Now they were tinged with a light seafoam color. She smiled at the goddess. The pain subsided, and Igny smiled. "Oh ... Oh I guess ... it doesn't matter ..." What had she been worried about again?
The goddess left her, and Igny picked up the flowers, moving them towards the wall. "Thank you for the wall," she prayed, humming softly to herself. The wall kept terrible things at bay.
OOC
Character name: Igny Character appearance: A very small shadow that appears to have small, four petaled flowers coming out of it. A somber blue heart in the center of her chest. A bright red spiral on her forehead. Link to Heart Loghere Current HP 40/40 Current weapon equipped: Simple Grief
Vaneda joined the workers among the wall, walking slowly against it and wondering what it was for. Her hand trailed over bricks and molding and the sensation made her feel odd. It was then the goddess appeared next to her, walking with her.
She wondered if it was odd that she did that. She felt at ease with the goddess anyways.
"The wall, you must build it higher. Find whatever. Build it higher." And then she is gone, leaving Vaneda with yet another task.
Looking over her right shoulder, the girl moves away. Searching and searching but nothing catches her eye.
Until they land on a bouquet of dried flowers.
It draws her like nothing else does. It calls to her in a way that confuses her. And as she touches them, she loses herself into a memory.
There was a man, there is a warmth. There is love. She knew this feeling. She shared this feeling once. And he's adorable, they flirt. She flirts with him.
and it changes as she stares down at his body. The love is cold, her hand trembles as she holds the scalpel. She smiles because its all she wants him to see, even as she brings it down. She wants to say I love you, but she can't. She remembers that everything she loves, ends up dying and she deserved this. If she admits it, then it just gives it more power.
And the memory fades:
"Nevada, come here." A girl with her form waves her over, smiling at her. "Let's read sleeping beauty again before we sleep!" Nevada laughs at her sister, her twin. It was their favorite story after all, and though they were well into their teenage years, they still managed to sit down and watch it...or read the book.
"Sure sure Sister." Nevada takes a seat next to her sister, resting her chin on her twin's shoulder as Alaska props open the book. Her voice starts to read out loud and Nevada simply bask in the warmth and love of her twin.
And then her twin is gone, and instead of warmth she is holding the book open by herself. Tears roll down her cheeks. Alaska had left her, had left her in the home with a father who didn't see her and a mother who didn't care.
And with the shadows at night getting stronger and the whispers louder...She clutches the book tightly as she reads out loud to herself. But it feels cold and emotionless. It didn't feel like a enjoyment of it anymore, it felt like a obligation.
Why did her sister leave her? Why was she being left alone? Did she do something wrong?
The tears turned into sobs-
And then the goddess is filling her presence. The memory fades as the goddess takes the flowers, sniffing them. "You don't need such pain. Not anymore. Not ever again." She opens her mouth and inhales deeply, drawing a thin wisp of something out of your own. And the memory is gone. She feels warm and safe again. Loved.
But the tear stains on her cheeks are still there....and the wall is still there.
"Thank you Goddess." Vaneda turns away....
OOC
Character name: Vaneda Character appearance: To the left. Small waft of a woman with long hair and eyepatch. Special Ability: Rook's Ambition- You can attack twice in a row. This can only be done once in this entire event. Species Ability: Mist Hunter - Your first three battles will yield you double the drop. If you get final kill, it still only gives you x2 drops, not x4. Link to Heart Log[HERE] Current HP 40/40 Current weapon equipped Simple Creation
Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 6:12 pm
The Wall.
It felt right that there was a wall. There was a lot to be scared of, out there. But how would he ever know? The two feelings conflicted, but he could hear the wanting terrors out there. The wall needed some extra materials. They weren't going to make it in time. They had to prepare.
He picked up a melted flashlight.
He's burned his hand.
He's crying on the floor of the kitchen space in the trailer, and he's crying as loud and hard as he knows how. But he knows mom isn't home. She's not going to be home until late. And there's no one here. And his hand hurts a lot, and its turning colors, and he holds it and he doesn't know what to do, and no one is coming to help him.
Nobody will ever be there. Not when he needs them. Not when it matters.
The goddess tells him he doesn't need that memory, and in a fit of pain, he lets her have it. After, there's relief and comfort. The relief he needed. He doesn't have to learn that lesson. He doesn't have to remember.
Toshihiko Two
Sugary Marshmallow
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Molten Tigrex Crew
Shameless Hunter
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 6:46 pm
The goddess whispered, and Nzsyoecsz didn't object.
It was logical enough to choose a brick to build a wall. He spied it in the distance, picked it up, and carried it to the perfect place, a hole in the middle of an otherwise perfectly built structure. He slid it in, and -
There was blood everywhere.
He raised the brick high again and slammed it down on the helmet, the screams cutting through the air. The ocean was streaked red. He had to do it. He had to. It was them or him. It was-
It was a trial.
Or it had been. A group of patient people in white glanced up to the handful who had strayed to the center of the circle. He backed up, step by step, alongside a woman with purple hair, and several others, toward a doorway. He was brandishing something. He had to, for his own protection.
They were murderers.
The wall shifted, and formed a pair of arms that encircled him. The goddess had taken pity on him as he stared, frightened. But he trusted her. She reached inside and drew out what worried him.
The Wall continued to keep all the terrible things at bay.
Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 6:47 pm
The wall was quite large. Etyam couldn't doubt its usefulness.
The flashlight drew Etyam's gaze as he spied it near the wall. It would have to fit somewhere, even if it was slightly melted and slightly ridiculous.
The light flickered on, and grew brighter as he approached what seemed to be the 'right' spot to wedge it. Until it grew so bright, he couldn't see anything-
It was dark, and he was afraid.
His heart beat faster and faster. Even with the covers drawn as high as he could pull them, he could feel something slipping across the bed. There was a pause before it pulled them away. Something grinned in the darkness.
And then it wasn't dark at all, but vividly bright. An explosion that went from white and red to grey, grey, grey, seeping through what had once been five islands. A chorus of screams went up behind him. They began to crumble. They were sinking. They were gone.
Maybe it really was the beginning of the end for them all.
He could do nothing.
The goddess heard him gasp. She came forth from the wall, took his hand. Reassured him that he would not have to be frightened. She took the memory and left him with the warmth of a blessing.
Molten Tigrex Crew
Shameless Hunter
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kuumeii
Snarky Hunter
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 6:47 pm
Come here. The words were not reality but drove her feet as she approached the wall. It was a curious thing, towering over her small frame. She placed a hand against it and moved a hand across the tattered materials thrown together to create it."Build it..." Her voice repeated calmly and quietly. "Build..." Her eyes became focused and her core brightened at yet another task to please her Goddess.
Turning away from the wall she searched, brushing over other objects and coming close to a brick, stained and cast aside from the wall. "Strong, for protection?" She was questing herself and she went down, grabbing the brick with both hands and moving to the wall slowly. It was far heavier than it appeared but she trudged it along, weaving between other bodies attempting to add to the wall. They paid no mind to her and she didn't pay them any either. She was focused.
"Buildbuildbuildbuild."
Her voice was heightened as she settled next to a section craving a brick. With a tiny smile she placed the brick into place.
Smack!
She shouted and struggled and her arms were heavy from the work, she felt the splatter as it came down over and over, banging against the metal of the helmet. It was dented and stained already, the loud scream ending abruptly as the movement underneath ceased. Mel'ae continued, tears pouring down her face and she smashed it down one last time, breaking it in two. It was a rain that sloshed over her and she moved off of the body, drenched and shaking from the rush.
They were coming again, always coming. Her body shook as she looped her arms under her knees, staring out over the shoreline with dulled eyes, blinking to keep the blood from entering them. They did this, they deserved this... they started it. She clenched around her arms. So I acted first.
A screaming continued in her head and she grabbed her ears, pulling tightly. "Nono, he attacked first..."
The body was young.
"They started it, and the ones who I trusted..."
It had been a defenseless man.
"I have my reasons!" She shouted.
Suspicions were rising and she felt her eyes look side to side as she whipped her head around, curling further into herself. This had happened before... The ebb and flow of the tide was roaring angrily as her mind began to unravel and reshape. It sounded less like water and more like stone against stone. Closing her eyes she tried to block it out but could only feel the dripping off of her cheeks as they merged into her tears.
It wasn't a time for others, it was her time where she was her only friend. She had been...
Scraping against her body roused her from her thoughts and she felt the warm embrace of arms around her, holding her tightly against a bosom. "Trust?" The word was foreign considering what she had just seen. She curled tighter. It was a sharp feeling as the arms seemed to enter and the Goddess spoke, her ears twitching and her breath hanging on every word. "Yes." She squeaked.
It was a sharp pain and the arms exited, carrying something with it that shimmered once before vanishing away. Warmth left her and she was standing again, staring at the Wall as it returned, looking more solid, stronger - thanks to her. Mel'ae looked her hands over and blinked in confusion. Something was different and she could feel it deep inside her core as it grew brighter. Like the wall she was stronger and gazing at it she could feel the protection like the arms that had come around her before.
It was necessary and she was glad for it.
OOC
Character name: Mel'ae Character appearance: Petite figure with a red core, two long ears hanging down on the side. Link to Heart Log [Here] Current HP 60/60 (Knight's Code) Current weapon equipped n/a
Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 6:49 pm
The object is part cheerful cartoon cat, part melted plastic horror, but there's something about it that draws you. When you touch it, a feeling of safety fills you. Finding the right spot for it is a bit of struggle, but when the light begins to flicker on, you know you're close. It grows brighter and brighter until your entire field of vision is flooded with a blinding white light.
Suddenly it's dark, and you're laying in the comfort of your bed with the covers pulled all the way up over you. You're small, and weak, and your little heart is thumping so painfully loud as something outside the covers shifts and sinks down onto the bed. A harsh laugh sounds above you and the thin protection of your blanket is yanked violently away, revealing a razor sharp smile that glints starkly against inky black.
The world shifts and suddenly one of your own memories slips across your mind's eye. A memory of a time when you felt small and helpless. When safety was yanked away from you. As the memory ends, the light recedes back, solidifying into the form of Goddess Protection (Paranoia). Her warm hands reach out and take hold of your own. "It only frightens you, it only makes things worse. Let me take it from you, that feeling...that time..." The warmth surges as her hands slip through your very being, carding through your existence, pulling something out and away from you. You own memory fades as her light grows brighter. The Goddess steps back into the Wall, sinking into it's structure until all that's left is a feeling of warmth and safety.
The Wall continues to keep all the terrible things at bay.
The Goddess spoke and Simmy listened, faintly smiling at the promise of safety, eyes following the busy contributors to her security. They carried materials, things to place between them and the inevitable dangers the Goddess spoke of.
Her smile faded.
They weren't good enough. They were failing to build this wall, and she could earn such supreme recognition by excelling. She would find answers and more promises and greatness if she helped make the wall what it should be. So she would. And like a child on the brink of a tantrum, she very nearly stomped off to find something to help in more efficient ways.
Instead, she found a flashlight.
She knew she was wrong, she knew she'd been really bad this time, she knew that it would be easy to find her here, but hiding here felt like the only option. This place was warm. This place was where she dreamed and escaped the reality of the weak form that couldn't combat the strength of her enemy.
She felt the blankets move and she knew she should close her eyes but she didn't and it was there--
It was impossible to tell which of them was screaming the loudest, both voices raised as far as they could push them, and the edges of their screeches were already hoarse and cracking. It was impossible, but it didn't matter in the end, because she knew who would win.
It wouldn't be her. She never won. Not once.
She was too small and too thin with glasses that kept breaking (getting broken, but she couldn't tell them), with questionable emotional attachment to anything, but that tarantula was something she cared about (if her assumption regarding the definition of 'care' was correct), and nobody else knew all about the faceless man in the woods, just Space Captain Teslarachnid, but he was gone with her secret, gone with her ability to confide in anything.
The Goddess spoke and Simmy listened, faintly smiling at the promise of safety, hand resting in the warmth of her palm.
Nothing Yet Crew
Obsessive Stargazer
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Zoobey Artist
Magical Incubator
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 7:06 pm
If you listen closely, you can hear the gentle whispering of a Goddess slipping across tendrils of fog. "The Wall," Protection (Paranoia) urges, "...build it higher. Take whatever you can find and build. The Wall is safety. Terrible things await you, only the Wall keeps them at bay."
Near the Wall you can see figures coming in from other areas, carrying and dragging material to build up the wall with. Others are scaling it, fixing things just so until their forms still and grow slightly vacant.
The structure of the Wall looms impossibly high above, an ominous structure that makes you feel small. The structure of the Wall crouches low, barely even a few feet, offering little protection. The Wall is an orderly pattern of brick and stone. The Wall is a random heap of debris. The Wall is still, it is just a wall. The Wall is shifting to stare down at you in silent hunger.
The cassette is old and dusty, the only point of colour on it is the label, which reads:
Clark County General Security Zone 3 05/19/2008 12:24am-7:02am
It might be useful...the Wall is meant to offer security, isn't it? It doesn't take too long to find it's place on the Wall. An old TV flickers on and off ontop of a bulky VCR. Sliding the tape in, the screen flickers once, twice, and then a small hospital room appears. The colours are muted and the sound a bit tinny, but everything comes through clearly enough. The top of the screen reads 12:24am.
Sitting on the bed is a young woman, gaunt and washed out. She stares up into the camera, directly at you. She doesn't move or show any emotion, despite the brillaint wash of blood soaking into the lower half of her hospital gown. The walls are also liberally splashed in red, small droplets slowly sliding down the soft green paint. Two bodies lay unmoving on the floor, and after a few moments, blood begins to pool beneath them.
In the corner the time turns to 12:25 and then to 12:26 and it's suddenly forwarding. The woman on the bed continues to stare out at you, her body seeming to jerk in quick, minute ways as the minutes blur past. On the walls, the droplets still and begin to dry, their colour darkening and losing it's brilliance. On the floor the pools of blood grow and grow until they too stop and being to dry. When the time hits 6:56 am, a hooded figure in white enters the room. The girl blinks. Time returns to normal.
He steps over the bodies, tsking softly at the sight. "What have you done?"
She doesn't respond, but he doesn't seem to mind.
"I will say this much, my dear, you've done well to make it this far. To go unnoticed for so long, to ensure yourself a nice long, solitary mission. It's tragic really, that you're always so very clever about exactly the wrong things." His voice turned sweetly venomous as he sit's down beside her, reaching up to brush a piece of hair out of her face as she continues to stare at you. "It was always going to end this way, and the sooner you accept that, the better for everyone concerned."
Picking up her hand, he holds it gently in his own as he continues, "You can save lives, or at least protect them for awhile, and you can take them, of course, quite easily. But the ability to create life, to hold and nurture it? That isn't yours, Clarice, not any longer and not ever again. Do you understand?" His knuckles have gone white around hers, and after a moment she looks down and away from the camera, her expression breaking into a million stabbing pieces of sorrow, regret, and rage.
The screen flickers and suddenly a moment from your own life, your real life, is displayed. It's a scene where you've reached a breaking point, and it's both painful and powerful to behold. The screen flickers again and turns to monochrome fuzz. As you stare into it, something within it shifts and extends until a pair of hands are reaching out from the screen, then a head. The Goddess of Protection
(paranoia) pulls her torso partially out of the screen to stare down at you, eyes empty.
"That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again." Her fingers slide painlessly into your eyes and into your skull to pull something out. For several minutes your remain still, a blind and empty vessel. When sight returns, the Goddess is gone and the TV displays only several bars of color and the text: OFF THE AIR. It leaves you with a sense of reassurance as you stare at it, but once you turn away a numb sense of dread fills you.
The Wall continues to keep all the terrible things at bay.
For now.
A USB Drive
It's a small thing of glowing blue plastic and glinting metal, but it has a certain sense of purpose about it as you pick it up. It's difficult finding the correct place for it, the Wall is full of computer equipment; while it could have fit just about anywhere, they just don't seem right until you reach a simple and sleek computer tower. You slide the stick in and suddenly an entire wall of monitors spring to life.
Each screen displays different pieces of information. In several you see an odd sort of computer code scrolling rapidly down. In still others you find calculations and graphics, data of varying sorts slipping past with an intensely focused sort of speed. In one you see the image of a red-haired man talking, you can't hear him, but the program seems to be mapping his every expression. Another screen flickers on and you see a blonde young woman adjusting the computer's camera. With a painfully familiar smile, she steps back and begins narrating.
"This is R-type Golem trial number three. The date is March 5th, 2012. The time is 0200 hours." She turns to another computer, and types quickly. In the back ground there's a metal table, and if you squint, you might notice that it's covered in dirt, or possibly mud. "The new core has been modified with changes 1a-1nn." She continues to type and then looks up toward the table, "I am now initiating golem formation and personality installation."
On the table the mud begins to move, first compressing into a small ball in the center and then suddenly expanding around it, forming a body, it's features gorwing more and more distinct and detailed. The brown of the dirt softens and brightens, becoming saturated until it's not just a pile of mud on the table, but rather a young man. After a moment, he sits up, and it's the man from the other monitors, with an open, friendly face and flaming red hair. He smiles vacantly at the woman, and scratches the back of his neck a little awkwardly. He open his mouth to speak, and it slides off his face. The rest of him soon crumbles and slips back into a muddy, messy pile.
Sighing the woman turns and walks toward the camera. "Trial 3 is a distinct failure. Stability has worsened. Modifications 1a-1nn will be removed and examined indiviually at a later time." She reaches toward the screen and it goes blank. Another flickers on displaying a similiar scene, and then another, until the entire wall is playing scene after scene of the woman testing, the man being born from mud, and eventually, something about the man breaking or acting oddly, sometimes violently before he returns once again to the earth. Those scenes grow briefer, and briefer, until all the monitors go blank. A moment later all of the screens reveal the exact same scene.
The woman, a little older now, a little happier and more confident, stares solemnly into the camera, "This is R-type Golem trial number six-hundred and thirteen. The date is November 16th, 2014. The time is 0300 hours." Stepping back she hits a key on the other computer, a newer one and heavily modified. "Change 198rr is now in place."
The man forms more quickly this time, one moment mud, the next he's breathing, sitting up, and smiling at her pleased recognition. The tests she performs go well, and when he loses his form it's done after they say goodbye to one another, and promise to see each other soon. The tangible aspects have improved greatly, but its the spark of life within his eyes that's the true victory.
The screens flicker, and now you witness a number of small moments in your own life. Moments of struggle and hardwork that eventually lead to something precious: hope.
The screens shift again, until a single, massive image of the Goddess stares down at you. "Your only hope is in survival," her voice booms from a hundred small speaker. "Your only hope is through me, do you understand....how much it takes? How much we need? We do this for you, and yet you cling to such things?" She reaches out from the monitors and wraps your entire body in her hand. It's strong and envelopes you, it protects you. The power behind it could snap you into small pieces with the barest flex. The hand lets go, pulling the memories away from you and back into the wall of monitors.
You're left dizzy and little claustrophobic as one by one, the screens switch to a blue error window. A sense of dread fills you as the overwhelming presence of the Goddess fades away.
The Wall continues to keep all the terrible things at bay.
For now.
Side Blessing Get!
In return for your work and what she took, the Goddess leaves you with something else as well:
the ooc
These are all basically writing prompts to explore your character's experiences and memories and are entirely optional!
Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 7:48 pm
It's small and delicate and full of data, it's small and delicate and holds the evidence of a lifetime of work, it's small and delicate and she plugs it into a computer. The screens light up, a ghostly light dusting over the bridge of Licraesa's nose. Bright blue bright white bright numbers that contrast against a black screen. A face against the darkness of a program. A woman so beautiful it hurts.
She smiles and it hurts, she smiles and it's not at her, she smiles and--
The woman talks, and it's numbers and garble Licraesa doesn't understand. It's a room full of science and a table full of mud and she clack-clack-clack types away a sequence and starts the formation. The material moves and undulates, takes shape, grows alive. The material becomes a man, the man becomes alive, his life is in halves. He falls to pieces and she looks so disappointed it hurts. He falls to pieces and she looks like she expected failure.
It goes on.
He is nothing, he is earth, he is alive, he dies. The repetition of the tasks becomes a pattern, her failure is a song, his body forms the notes. Rinse. Repeat. Failure. Rinse. Repeat. Failure. Rinse. Repeat. Failure.
Each iteration was improved upon in minute amounts. The code was delicate and precise, the numbers exact and to a t, the adjustments made with the utmost of care.
The screen goes black.
When it comes back, Licraesa clenches her fists because her smile is larger than life. Because she is happy. Because she thinks she can do it and there have been so many attempts. This time, he is a success. This time, he is mud turned man turned human. He smiles, too, and it lights up his eyes. He is sentient. He is worthy. He is a success.
The screen goes black.
The screen goes black, and--
You're drunk. You're drunk and he's bought you three drinks and offers you a proposition from beneath a white hood concealing a scarred face. He offers you something and it's not sex, he offers you something and it's a salvation, a providence, a reaffirmation of all your lifelong fears. The shadows are real. They are out to get you. The paranoia is justified.
He offers you a hand and you offer him your life, signed away in blood. You smile, because you've been plagued your whole damn life and now you've got the chance to do something about it.
--
You think you are going to die. You're sure of it. A horseman has ruined your weapon, a horseman has killed you but left before she finished the job. A horseman has taken -- and crushed him, leaving you with a damaged pocket watch and two metric tons of complete and absolute fear. The seconds/minutes/hours/days pass and you watch your back, you wonder when someone will notice. You shirk your duties just enough to avoid sparring, and you dive head first into a mission that you will later learn was an apocalypse you helped cancel.
But you're there, in the snow. You've got your arms around a fluffy pink coat and she's told you that he's damaged but alive, damaged but waiting, damaged but growing with you to better suit your needs. You want to cry with mirth but it comes out as laughter, loud enough to be heard across the camp and over penguins, you laugh and you bring -- so close and kiss her and kiss her and kiss her because you are alive. You. Are. Alive.
--
You've been nursing a crush for some time now, and it grew over the months, and you want her but you want her friendship, first. You want her trust, you want her to lay her head on your shoulder when the world becomes too much. You look at her smile and it's tight around the edges, razor wire sharp, barbs pointing inwards, a self-inflicted injury in the form of a smile.
You want to help her because she's helped you, because she's something precious, because she's tucked into a corner, neglected, alone, working to exhaustion. There's a sticky note on her forehead and you take it, there's sleepy half muttered phrases, and you take her by the hand/arm/shoulder/waist, you guide her to bed and you lay there. Her body curls around you and. You. Just. Smile.
--
Two little words and you feel alive, two little words and your world has come apart and reassembled in five seconds flat, two little words and the darkness doesn't seem so bad, two little words and the paranoia is at bay.
"Me too."
The video stops, full stop, black replaced with grey on yellow on white little teeth. The video stops and she says the only hope in Licraesa should be survival. The video stops and says her only hope is faith, and Licraesa knows that.
"I'm sorry," she says, and the tears fall, because she had tasted hope of another, hope in something that didn't keep the faith, hope in a world beyond The Goddess & Licraesa. It was her duty to be hopeful and devoted and blessed, and she had betrayed it, unwittingly. The memories had come unbidden, but she made no excuse.
Licraesa goes limp like an animal that knows its defeat because there's a giant hand around her, and she can taste the hope on her tongue as it leaves her, drawn out by the Goddess, removed entirely from her head. The power in that hand is stronger than any monster's, and the smallest shift would turn her to dust, to stars, to fog.
The Goddess is gone and you are alone, and the wall is tall above you but the room feels too small, the wall is reaching for you and the wall is far away.
Licraesa curled fingernails into her palms and hoped for the best (the Goddess will prevail) and feared for the worst.
Vaneda returned to the wall, this time staring at it rather than running her hands over it. And like the day before, she felt the whisper of her goddess next to her. Urging her to build higher and higher.
"Okay." Vaneda whispered back, moving to look around for objects.
This time around, she walked and walked. Everyone else was finding something but she wasn't. It wasn't till her eyes landed on colored text under a pile of debris and some large amounts of dust. Reaching her hand down, she lifted the cassette tape out, blowing off all the dust to read the text.
Clark County General Security Zone 3 05/19/2008 12:24am-7:02am
She didn't know what it meant. but the word security stood out to her, and she thought it would fit with the wall. That's what it was there for. Standing up, she cradles the tape and goes back to the wall, walking along it until she finds what she wants. A old turned on TV blinked at her, winking with fuzzy white picture and a buzzing sound. Underneath is a bulky VCR. Somehow she knows that the tape goes in and feeds it to the machine. The screen flickers...and then plays.
She see's a woman, sick and pale. A little unnerved by the staring at the screen, Vaneda takes a step back. But her eyes remained glued to the screen. There was blood, she knows it. She knows that faint color of red. And the woman is soaked in it. Two bodies.
Time clicks on the Tv. Flickering in the corner as she stays like that. One minute...Two minutes. Then its fast forwarding, the only changes are the woman's body motions. Twitching...strong jerks. Vaneda watched with a growing sense of terror. What? Why?
The video stops on the time 6:56.
A man enters. "what have you done?" Vaneda hears him ask.He talks, and the only time the woman breaks is when he touches her.
And it flickers off.
Just as she turns to leave, she hears crying on the Tv. It sounds like her. She looks over her shoulder.
"WRONG!" He screams, a new man on the screen. There is no time stamp on it...so she knows its about her. She watches as the camera zooms on the man's face. Father. That was the word that came to mind. It was her father. And he is angry. There is so much anger on his face. But underneath it, she can see disappointment.
The camera pans back out, his hand holding up a paper marked with a red C+. He holds it in front of her face, She know its her and not Alaska because her eyes are the colored contacts she bought. She liked the purple, it made her stand out. It made her different. It made her not Alaska.
"This is utter bullshit Nevada. A C+ on a written report. What the hell are you doing? Did you even study? Alaska would've aced this!" He is so angry, his voice so loud. She isn't Alaska. Why doesn't he see that?
"I'm sorry." Was all she offered, trying to zone him out. It hurt how much he always had to remind her that she was not her twin. How she wasn't smart, or how she wasn't as sporty. Why couldn't she do things like Alaska did, why couldn't she be more like Alaska? Why wasn't she Alaska.
His voice raises and raises until she's so angry at him for not seeing her. She works herself more and more until finally her own anger boils over...
"I AM NOT ALASKA!!" She screams, She screams it so loud that it stuns it him. he looks at her like he has slapped him. Finally. Finally he sees. She is not Alaska. "I AM NOT ALASKA, I AM NEVADA. I DON'T LIKE TO STUDY, I DON'T CARE ABOUT MY GRADES, I LIKE TO HAVE FUN. I AM A TEENAGER. WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS TRYING TO MAKE ME HER?" Nevada is screaming but there is tears again. She always cries when she gets frustrated. "I DON'T WANT TO DO WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO. I DON'T WANT TO BE FORMED INTO ALASKA BECAUSE SHE LEFT! YOUR HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE! I HATE YOU." Nevada takes off, running to her room and slamming the door.
Finally...Finally she said what she had wanted...Finally she made him see...
But had she?
The Tv flickers off and Vaneda blinks, a pair of hands emerges....as well as a head...and a torso. She recognizes the Goddess, but not the feeling she gets from her.
"That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again." Her fingers slide into Vaneda's only eye, pulling the memory out. She doesn't move, blind to what is going on. Empty inside.
And then the sight returns to her again. And she staring at a TV with colored bars and OFF THE AIR replaying on it.
Odd...She steps away and turns to leave. Though there was a sense of warmth again...deep inside her...there was a feeling of dread. Something was coming. And it was coming soon.
Once again, he has returned to aid the goddess in her wish to further the building of this wall. It was created to protect them, and so, he shall do as she ordered.
From where he stood, he picked up the VHS cassette.
Clark County General Security Zone 3 05/19/2008 12:24am-7:02am
What is this? He questioned. Whatever it was, it certainly doesn't ring any bells. Well, to the wall it goes...
....?
Who is? What is going on? He could feel a slight pull of emotions at the strange video that was playing yet...Where is this, and how could that have happened? The girl, and the dead bodies...The blood. Did she kill them? Decyl couldn't turn away. Not realizing the oddity of the time displayed at all. He flinched and hiss many a times as the girl and the man talked. He didn't look away until the screen finally turns black. Was that all?
Apparently not.
The screen flickers. A new video.
There was no one there but the simple existence of a white letter. Neatly written and place ever so delicately before him. There was no messenger for they have fled long ago. The words on the letter were hard to make out, but the anger and frustration radiating from the male figure on the screen could easily be seen. Their hands clutched into fists, and their countless attempts to try and throw the paper away but couldn't.
Why?
Why is she only leaving a letter and nothing more? Why does she chose now of all times to message him? Why didn't she show her face? Why isn't she here to tell him what is going on?
Goddamn it.
WHY.
Decyl had wanted to keep watching but pulled away when, suddenly, two hands and a head appeared from the screen. He flinched visibly and glared at the empty eyes of the goddess.
"That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again."
What? N-no wa...
..... ...............
What just happened? Why did he zone out? Decyl wasn't sure, but it seems the goddess has left when he wasn't looking. Probably bored when he zoned out for no reason what so ever.
...he did help fix the wall right? He stared at the TV for a while, wondering if they had been watching something before. Well, whatever it was, they were off the air now...
Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 11:03 pm
A Goddess called, and so he answered.
Imuiel wasn't particularly sure if aiding a Goddess that wasn't his would earn him any ire from his own, but he figured he would at least try anyway. It couldn't hurt, right? And besides, she was saying something about keeping terrible things at bay. With what he'd experienced so recently with his chase, he was more than ready to help prevent such things from happening to anyone else.
Build it higher...
After some searching, Imuiel had come across a stained brick--while not particularly remarkable on its own, something about it snapped his attention to it as soon as his eyes had ghosted over it, and he couldn't look away. Picking it up gingerly, he frowned somewhat at the stickiness of it, not even wanting to know what those odd, hardened lumps were. Judging by the smell of the thing, it couldn't be anything good. But it was a good brick, solid and sturdy--exactly what a wall needed. He pushed it into place, mustering a brief smile as it settled in perfectly.
Smack! Brick raised high in your hand, you bring it down on the other person's helmet with another hard smack! Their helmet finally cracking, the muffled screaming reached a new, higher pitch, until it was cut short and then boom! Pieces of flesh and blood and bone rain down on your own helmet in a soft, wet, spatter. Breathing heavily, you sit back on the sand and stare out into the foggy ocean, uncaring of the red streaks now obscuring the view. They were going to kill you. Everyone was going to kill you. If you let them. If you didn't kill them first.
That was...unpleasant. The waves rose in volume until they were a deafening roar, and when Imuiel looked up from the brick, he found himself...somewhere else, somewhere eerily familiar.
Can't trust anybody right now. This's...not good, not good at all. Got about--three days 'r so, an' then it's gonna be real bad. I cant risk tellin' anybody, either--if I say a word out of line, they'll be doin' my Ha'arta next. Rotted.
The words were almost frantically recited in his mind, and he watched from the back seat, calm despite the panic prevalent. He looked around, vision darting and refocusing behind red-tinted lenses that colored the world as if it all had been drenched in blood. He was afraid, he knew. They were going to find out about him leaving, and they were going to kill him. Was that what they did to deserters? He didn't know. He'd never done this before, never entertained the thought, never heard of it--but he had no other choice. He couldn't just tie himself down to some kind of pointless worship of rotting, twisted excuses for relics, ridden with disease that would be so much more useful if eaten. He packed a few satchels hurriedly, slipping in somebody else's mask and gauntlets wrapped up in a tattered and faded brown and orange cloth.
He only had tonight to make his escape, and then, it was all over.
Imuiel was jarred from the memory by the harsh grinding of stone on stone as the Goddess reared forth from the bricks, twisting and reshaping them to make up her form. "You don't need that, you're safe now. You never have to trust in anyone," A pause that seemed to last a lifetime lingered between the Goddess's words as her arms tightened around him, slipping through him to wrap around something deeper within. "Except me. As long as you trust in me, I'll keep you safe." She pulled away, still holding tightly to what Imuiel faintly deduced was the memory he'd just gained, and all he could do was watch with quickly paling concern as she melted back into the wall. He felt...strong now, safe instead of suspicious. Everything was right now, he knew. He just...couldn't remember why he would've ever thought it wasn't..
The Goddess said higher, and so the would build it higher. Like with the previous day, Ixyguin was uncertain as to what she could contribute, searching around the streets in search of some sort of object. A sturdy stone, perhaps, or maybe a brick--
--Ah. Was that one over there? She jogged over towards the dark, rectangular-shaped object that sat on the ground, realizing as she drew closer that it was in actuality a tape. A VHS cassette, to be more specific. Would this really do? Upon picking it up and hefting it, she determined that it felt too light to be useful, but perhaps...hmm? What was written on this tag here?
"Security Zone". Well, that seemed rather fitting. After all, the Wall was just that--a place of security.
Returning back to the Wall, she scanned it thoughtfully before finding a place to put it, setting it down...
...And into the VRC player. Taking a step back, she focused her eyes on the screen, trying to take in every little detail. The time, the room--a hospital?--and most importantly, the young woman who was staring up at the camera. Her gaze was, to put it lightly, rather unsettling, but what was even more so was the red substance that stained the girl's gown, the walls, and even the floors as the blood seeped out from beneath the two still figures that were sprawled on the ground.
Yet, as sick as she feels, she does not turn away from the screen, watching grimly as the minutes speed in a timelapse until suddenly, the timer begins to proceed normally.
Who was that hooded figure?
She observed their conversation--the hooded man and the blood-covered girl's--curiously, struggling to comprehend what was going on. What was this man trying to do? It sounded almost like he was trying to convince her--Clarice, he called her--to do something, perhaps to throw away her ability to take lives in order to take in the ability to nourish them.
Then the scene changes. She is in the Haunted House with her companions, and they are fighting someone, someone familiar, someone who is dear to her. He is her friend, and yet he is not the same person that she knows, his form gray and wispy from insanity. As he attacks, she strikes back in self-defense, despite the fact that she doesn't wish to harm him. And then suddenly, before she can react, he lunges out at one of her companions--another of her friends--and attacks her, his claws cutting as he tears into her body. Her friend is gone before she can even react.
Ixyguin's eyes were glazed, her gaze fixated on the screen. It wasn't until the Goddess appeared that she snapped out of her stupor, taking a small, surprised step back. She balks slightly as the Goddess reaches for her, only to freeze as her fingers press against her head, drawing something out...
...
She does not know how long she stands there, but when her vision has returned, she finds that she is alone once more. She glances at the television, and then turns away, and it is not until that moment does the feeling of dread suddenly envelop her.
