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 Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 10:01 am
Just when she had thought her life was at an end, Moriko was awakened by a voice. However, she wasn't exactly real now was she? Yet she had felt real enough, she had memories and a body. Part of her wanted to float there forever, just stay where she was. Yet what if sin was still alive? Even if she was a memory she was still very much real to Momo and she would not leave her on her own. And even if she had died perhaps she had been Awoken as well? Determined to see Sigrun one last time, Moriko went in search of her.
[Exit to Tower]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 10:42 am
[ Continued with his yelling ] So. He was dead. But why he could still feel. The coldness and silence around. Memories were draining away from him, like movie films. Now he remembered. He died in the battlefield, poison to death. If he could choose again, he shall try his best to convince the king to sacrifice only him. He witnessed how some Imagineers were killed, which might be avoided. But, there was not a second chance. All he could do was yelling, calling his friends and loved one. He was so useless. What's the meaning of the fight after all if he failed to protect anyone? Regrets. Inside the absolute darkness, AJ could feel himself floating, but he didn't see anything, neither his body, nor the place where he was. Was there echo? Was there sounds? Or that was just his illusions? He was empty, hollow or meaningless. He doesn't even know. Is that how death would like? For a moment, past memories sprang up and images flashed by. Yes, he born as a Tiefling. A Tiefling boy who lost his parents at very young age. He had a sister, but being Tieflings meant no public affection. Unlike his sister who uses her willpower and muscles to charm others, his Tiefling appearance just made others hated and bullied him. AJ hided all his wounds and busies from his sister, just didn't want her to have more to worry. Life was harsh and boring. Then, one day, he came to a quirk. Without money to buy a healing potion to cure his wounds, he decided to steal one. It was exciting, yep, he could remember his heart beat as if going to bump out anyway. From that day, he found a new hobby, to steal things from others and escape. He became a thief. AJ wanted to laugh, but it was just a feeling. Without body, he knew he can't do it. A thief brought troubles to the whole kingdom, a brother who brought problems to his own sister. Ofelia. AJ admitted that he felt sorry for her, even she vented her anger on him, even she treated him as a punchbag gradually. Yet, she's his darling sister, same blood is flowing inside them. An invisible link that would never break. He missed her. He missed his friends. He missed Om. Memories were not equally clear, but he could remember when he was about to head to the Ladyrinth, Ofelia showed him care, visible affection for a very first time. She kissed him on his forehead and asked for his come back. It was a few times AJ felt so warm, heated up from inside. Also, there emerged cut scenes of Ofelia caught him and punch his head, and of course, his friends, mostly angrily yelling his name or crying to his sister. He could also recall of his adventures, going into ruins and dangerous forests, came back and welcomed by a wrathful Ofelia and several potions. Those days were fun, really, everyday was so meaningful....... When all of his memories being taken out, will he vanish this time? Return to emptiness? AJ couldn't know, he just enjoyed the display of his memories. He was so calm. There was no war. There was no enemies, There was just happy memories. He wanted to be here forever. --------------------- Then, he was no longer floating, without hardly any memories left. " Do you wish to know a secret?" AJ heard the voice and found two pillars in front of him. When did he have his body again? Anyway, he wanted to know what the secret is, he had nothing to lose anymore. He picked the white pillar as he didn't want any darkness. " Let me tell you a story," The White pillar began to tell a story, a story about a Great King and his legacy. " Such a nice story, what are you trying to tell me?" " Look below you, at your shadow." AJ took a second to look down and found he was standing on a mirror surface? He stared at his reflection, it was hollow and black, just like him. Then, he blinked several times. Wow! It was painted with brilliant colors. Obviously it wasn't his reflection at all, it moved and stared at AJ. It looked alike but yet different from the boy. TICK.He seemed to hear a noise and then he felt as if his bloods were cold as ice and circulated allover his body. A sudden shivering. Who was he? " You are they. But they are not you..." AJ looked at the boy who faces him. I am him? He is not me? Of course! Even though we are so alike, it didn't mean we can replace each other. He shrugged at the comment. What the pillar continued just made AJ wanted to laugh. Fragment? A fragment of this boy's memory? Bullshit. " Tell me more." He ordered. " You were created to break, because you are not real." Not real? " What do you mean? I don't understand." AJ put his left hand on his waist while asking for more. Why his death can be so annoying! He felt restless inside, he stepped on the floor with only the first part of his right foot, using the ankle as a pivot. Once and once. " Shadow, fragment, replica. You are a fake." Fake? How can he be fake? As the pillar continued, AJ started to yock, he put his arms around his stomach. " HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" The outlaugh went on for a while before he could stop, the laughter was echoing around the empty space. " Thank you so much for letting me know. Now I understand, all of it!" AJ seemed out of gear, he even thanked the pillar. Was it so hard to accpet the truth? Nope. What he followed to say gave the answer that he didn't go crazy. " All the years, no matter how happy everyday I was, tricking my friends, stealing stuff or visiting dangerous places, I felt empty from time to time. Now I understand, I am completed. Thank you for bringing me the last forfeited puzzle. Really!" His face suddenly brightened up, like a bulb emitting its lights. He no longer felt empty, even he was only a fragment, a shadow or whatever. He felt satisfied within. He walked towards the white pillar, his originator, the other AJ walked with him too. Yet, they were so different. The other AJ was full of vibrant color while he was dim and black, just like a shadow. SO WHAT? " Well, first, Mr. Pillar White. Let me thank you once again for telling me the truth. However, I have to tell you. I-am-I, I am AJ. No matter I was drawn from that boy, I lived a different life. I might be fake, but yet since the day I was created, I existed, I became an entity." He gave a confident smile to the pillar. " A perfect puppet to orchestrate a perfect play? As an imagineer, I am sorry to say that you have limited imagination. If I were you, I would say we are player characters controlled by one player, in a game. Yep, important steps might be made by the only player, however, they would not care about the trivia ,ironically, that C-R-E-A-T-E-D me, with different memories that you called fake and so. Even we are all fragments of others, we walked our own road. I am proud of who I am, I am a proud fragment." Another pause. " They created me, and I created myself. I am really an excellent imagineer for my kingdom. For me, all of them are real, in the way of memories I created. Even though my memory was taken all, but two would remember, the one who created us and the originator. They might not care or think it was a dream, but as those memories were inside them. I exist. We exist." Yep, they all exist, Mort, Ofelia, Eva, Bella, Alex, Sophie and others. As soon as he finished his remarks, he felt he was fading away. Finally the end comes?" Come now, do you really think that is your end?" Come on! It's not over yet?! AJ wanted to scream. Please give him a break. " Do you know how long I have waited for someone to actually converse with me?" " Oh poor thing, I wish I could stay and chat with you." If the white pillar had shoulders, AJ would come and pat on its shoulder. He did the lonely pillar a flavour by walking closer to it. Hey hey! Don't glow so bright, I am having a headache.The pillar's note only surprised AJ. What? He can go back! That's the most excited news he got here. " Hey-hey, I agreed with you, we might born the same way, but we can all end unlikely." AJ was very happy that they shared the same view. He wanted to bounce, like what he did when he was a Tiefling. " I think we can be good buddies, Mr. Pillar White!" If both of they like excitements and entertainments. There was not a reply before the pillar faded away. Wait! Mr Pillar. He wished he could stay with the lonely pillar if he could, but he was just a fragment who will disappear eventually........How's Ofelia? He felt a pull. I create my own death.[ EXIT TO TOWER ]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 10:59 am
A scream cut through the night. Not on the battlefield, not in the bar that housed Harrison. In a bedroom, belonging to two young children, in a time before Ying's motorcycle, Jing's pill popping, their casino job. Before the Watch.
Their parents were never home. They told the children they'd be home soon, that they were just getting groceries, but the children knew. Everyone knew. The whole town knew. They were playing at the Casino, wasting their money away on tiny blue chips which they'd exchange for tiny blue pills. Perhaps tonight they were out drinking- it seemed everyone in this town was always doing that. Going out drinking.
The scream was in fright. Jing had just gotten to the scary part of the story, and Ying, being the gullible and vulnerable child she was, was terrified. The story had been about demons and ghouls- or something of the like. It didn't particularly matter what story he told, to be honest. Ying would believe it anyways.
Jing was delighted with the scream, and let out a laugh, followed by a pat to her head. "I think it's time for bed," he said, still chuckling lightly. He couldn't help it, he felt a little bad for scaring her, but he was her brother! It was practically his job.
Though she looked a little scared to cross the distance in the dark, Ying nodded naively and tiptoed back to her bed, which sat side by side Jing's. Once she'd made it safely back to her abode, Jing flipped the switch on the flashlight they'd been using, and tucked himself into bed. "It's not real Ying~" he reminded her. Just in case.
He fell asleep quickly. Jing had always been the lazier sort, so sleep came easy, but waking up did not. However, his sleep was interrupted tonight. About ten minutes later, he could hear Ying sniveling in her bed, letting out little cries every once in a while. Now he felt bad. He'd wanted to scare her, but it had never been his intention to make her cry.
Her voice cut in between sobs. "Jing?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I sleep with you?"
He groaned inwardly, but what could he do? It had been his own fault. He'd scared his 7 year old twin sister, and now he had to pay for it. "Yeah."
The words were off his lips, and Ying pushed off her own bed. Jing pulled up his covers to let her under, sighing and scooting over on his back to make room for her. Their beds weren't exactly enormous, and being squeezed next to her was actually quite a pain. "Better?"
Ying nodded, and turned on her back, away from Jing and pointed towards the wall. Ying was an internal sort. She didn't want comfort and coddling, no whispers of "it's okay," for her. Just a strong and silent type. Jing at least offered her arm a squeeze, before turning over and pressing his back against hers. A subtle way of telling her he was there without pushing over the line and making it mushy. He wished he could just push her off, but no. Noooo.
After a moment or two of silence, Ying broke her pact. "Y-You'll save me when they come to get me, right?"
"Always," he said immediately, "But they won't come to get you."
Ying thought about his answer, and then said, "I'll save you too, okay?"
"Okay."
"Night Jing."
"Good night Ying."
---
The lights had turned out, but the night wasn't over. Ying could see an offer looming before her. Of course she'd go back.
She still had someone to protect.
[ exit ]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 11:13 am
((Entering from Death Hug))
It was a strange transition. From being held in Amrita's arms, Sun found herself standing, upright, before two pillars. They offered to tell her a secret. Drawing closer to the White Pillar, she listened as it spoke of the True King, of corruption, and her own role in this story.
Looking down, she recognized herself, but as her reflection distorted, a flicker of red came through, and Sun found herself staring at a girl. Staring at herself. But this reflection was different. The colors were alive, in a way Sun had never seen before. No, she- she had seen this before. Or she felt that she should know this. But nothing came to her. Was she really just a fragment of a memory? This girl's memory? Oddly, it gave her hope. The pillar didn't understand, even if she'd just been a memory, she was still real.
But then she was offered another chance. To go back, to say goodbye. Yes! She wanted to do that! Sun smiled and took it.
[Exiting]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 11:56 am
((Entering))
Hearing the turning of paces and feeling of what was being read, as Tori for a second thought that her death had brought her back to her books. She had never thought too much what death might be like and thought that being among her books again would very nice along with writing down what she had learned even if it was just a little. But just as things came into focus all those feeling of being among her books left like running water out of a broken glass. To which she got mad as she had felt cheated of what was taken. She had served her king and kingdom to the best that she could and thought that, wait what was the reason she served. Tori stopped her raging thoughts to think back to memories of the past. But there was nothing there, like an unwritten book that didn’t even a title. Feeling so very hollow the more she tried to grasp what wasn’t written and what would never be written down.
Looking around to try to not feel so hollow when Tori saw two towers right there, she shunned away from the white one as it reminded her too much of blank paper. So she picked the black one. Tori listened to what the tower was saying to her and she so disagreed with that pillar as she wasn’t a creation of a creation and glared at the pillar as she truly didn’t believe it. As she didn’t want her story to be written and then washed away like it was nothing at all.
Shifting in place for a few as Tori tried to muster up the will to look down at her shadow since that is what the black pillar told her to do since she didn’t trust it. Cocking her head to one side confused by what she at first saw the blackened version of herself in that empty mirror and thinking that wasn’t here but maybe a trick. But as the reflection changes Tori covered her eyes ever so slightly as to what she was seeing now was so bright, but watch she did as everything was so familiar so true, but it was her but not her at the same time. Looking at the eyes of the other her when looked right at her and felt only coldness and no memories came to mind that she should have know but nothing came just like the emptiness in that unwritten book.
So very confused to what the pillar had told her next as it couldn’t be true, could it a puppet for others to play with but she still didn’t understand as this wasn’t what she had wanted. It hit even harder when told again that she was just a shadow a fragment of someone else, never to be written down of her story and to have that story never shared with others. Sighing slightly as it did made sense now and why she just looked like a dark shadow in the mirror before seeing the other her since she was just a puppet that broke that needs to return to nothingness.
Tori could feel herself starting to fade like the ink in a very old book that had lost it purpose to those that once read it. Only did she perk up a little when hearing what more the pillar had to say and she did indeed come closer and the darkness was just a little overbearing. Tori really like to what the pillar had to say as it was one last chance to be written down for someone maybe to read even if it was just a line or two.
((Exiting to Tower))
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 11:57 am
((Entering))
Adiyan had never thought about death before as it just really never crossed his mind while doing what had interested him. He did think that maybe he would head back home to before his home had fallen to live in peace forever. That wasn’t what Adiyan saw when he opened his eyes as all he could see were two towers. He chosen the white one as to him it kind of reminded him of his home.
Quietly Adiyan listened carefully to what the pillar had to say as he wanted to make sure he heard it all correctly. Confused to what he had heard as it was a nice little story but he did looked down at his shadow. To see a mirror an empty one and what Adiyan saw was blacked out and hallow. But as he watched on quietly as the mirror shifted with a figure with colors that were so very bright. Closer did he look to see that it was him talking with another as it was all familiar to him as he kept on watching. Adiyan could see that it was him but not at the same time it was just so very strange. Jumping a little in fright when that other him looked right at him as a coldness filled him while looking right in the eyes of the other. But Adiyan tries really hard as he should know something anything that sparks something, but nothing comes just only the feeling of emptiness.
Listening to what the pillar had to say more it had to say since he still didn’t understand. Then it all sank in that it was all true, a puppet is empty and only shares the likeness of who was being copied. Adiyan could feel himself start to fade, just like his kingdom had done, but he was alright with that since he was just only a fragment. He did nod his head to the pillar as he did feel it was what he should do. He did walked up to the pillar and the light was overbearing, but he did have to wonder if there was anyone to say goodbye too but he also wanted to make a mark that he had lived somehow to show that he wasn’t just a fragment but someone that had an ending and Adiyan this time wanted to see just how it ended.
((Exiting to Tower))
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 12:23 pm
[[ Entering from Battlefield ]]
She didn't need death to tell her that she felt cheated.
Nkosazana was a member of the Silver Kingdom. The kingdom that was ignored. The kingdom that legends seemed to bury as if it had never existed in the first place. The Kingdom not of Change, but of Lies. She had been cheated in life already. Death wasn't needed to make the sensation of being cheated rip through her mind, crying out as the miasma leaked from her body.
But yet, she still wanted to convince herself her life meant something. Perhaps, even if every legend and every other kingdom attempted to sweep Silver under the rug, only using them to loot and pillage to gain miasma to please some unseen voice, Nkosazana had still lived. And if she had still lived, she still had experiences. She still had things that mattered to her, even if they mattered to no one else. They made her heart beat while she was still in the world, made her miasma keep running through her body despite how unseen and unacknowledged Silver was.
Was that why they could blend so easily into the other kingdoms? Nkosazana remembered once going on an adventure to blue, and despite her clothing, she seemed able to get through the society pretty easily, understanding and communicating in ways that, while still made her distinctly Silver, allowed her to blend in with those in the area as if she was one of them herself. She was never Blue, but she certainly could live with Blue.
... Right?
Something felt so hollow about what was once her Kingdom's deepest goals--collecting information, understanding data, negotiating, trade agreements, mediation... what was the point of any of it? Why had it even mattered so much to her? She should have been more concerned with defending her home, maybe. Maybe then, Silver would have continued to live, and there wouldn't've been such a catastrophic collapse that lead her to mining her own kingdom.
But did that even matter?
At the time, Nkosazana had been devastated. There was nothing that would console her, the cookies she ate something that was, at best, an attempt at burying the pain. She had lost so much when the Silver Kingdom had collapsed. She lost family, she lost friends. She even, eventually, seemed to have lost David, whom she could have sworn she ran out with. Once she left to mine her kingdom, she hadn't seen him again. But had he even mattered, really? If their kingdom was a lie, perhaps he was just another lie.
Good friends could be lies, too, no matter how attached she was to them. Perhaps this was her wake-up call, really. Perhaps the Silver Kingdom was nothing but a ruse for those people who could not make themselves choose a kingdom, too adrift to really make themselves care about anyone else.
But she did care about others... hadn't she?
The more she tried to think of the faces that mattered, the less they formed. David seemed vague, at best, fading into the background much like the miasma that was clawing its way out of her throat. The White Kingdom, a place she had just visited and looted her own kingdom for, the king which had welcomed her in when everything else was wrong, despite her attempts at lying to them to cover up what happened ... they seemed to fade, too. The White King, did he really matter? Did her attempts at making him feel better, despite the treachery of her own king... did that matter, at all?
Something in her heart couldn't make it matter. She couldn't make anything matter.
Why had she tried fighting? Why had she resisted death so hard? Why didn't she just let herself fall into the same hole that so many of her own kingdom had fallen into? Perhaps, then, her miasma would have joined that miasma of the crystals, attempting to consume anyone that came near, including her. Perhaps that was even proof that she didn't really matter.
Her own kingdom turned against her.
Nothing she had ever done ever ... mattered.
She was fading, and she couldn't bring herself to care.
Nkosazana gasped, body arching upwards as she felt herself fading away, at long last.
Perhaps it was the only thing she had ever deserved.
==========
It felt like eons before she awoke again.
Why was she awake? What did it matter? She groaned, bringing herself to her feet, as she faced what was in front of her.
Black. White.
The White seemed more inviting. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, before approaching the White Pillar, a bright, welcoming light that warmed her as she approached. A story? Perhaps this would be the story of her life. This was the afterlife, wasn't it? But the story had nothing to do with her, echoing back to what she thought she might have heard at the lake, objects of power and a great king that ruled over them all. But there was corruption. There was always corruption, really, the response didn't surprise her.
It stole from the world, and created fragments. She had a shadow to look at, now? She knit her brows, but decided she would appease to the Pillar, turning around and looking down into the swirling mirror.
On the other side, she saw someone that looked quite a bit like her. Their hair was curly and dark, much like hers. Thinking it was a mirror, just temporarily, she reached up to her hair, but found that she wasn't mirrored. She squinted more. Violet eyes and dark skin, just like her, but the clothing was ... different. She had runes on her clothing, clothing which was robes that seemed to cover her in a rather ceremonial matter. "I don't ... understand."
Shadow. Fragment. Replica.
You are a fake.
Nkosazana couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her throat at being told such a thing. Of course she was a fake. It seemed fitting, didn't it? Nkosazana of the Silver Kingdom was never really something that had existed at all! She was just a shadow of herself, some other self on the other side of the mirror who was the true Nkosazana. She was never the true Nkosazana. She was just some kind of joke to be swept under her rug, just like the rest of her kingdom, created to bemuse some stupid king.
"Of course I am," muttered Nkosazana.
She felt herself fading again, but the pillar called to her, asking if she really thought that was her end. "Of course it is." But the Pillar had different ideas, and she stayed silent and listened. It wasn't like there was anything else.
A small favour if she came closer? What did she deserve? Fine. Nkosazana lifted her arm in front of her face, wincing as she went closer, blinded by the light shining in front of her eyes. She hadn't finished her role? Her role? What was her role in the first place? She was a fake, a shadow, a joke, a pawn created by someone else to play into their master plan. What kind of purpose could she possibly serve?
The pillar seemed to think it would be more entertaining. Of course it would be. It was probably just as bad as the prideful king himself, telling her this just to break her before sending her back to stumble and say goodbye to the world last time.
Still, she'd like to know who was behind this. The Pillar offered no ... comfort, in that way.
Perhaps she would say goodbye by taking whoever thought this was a good idea out.
And so, she closed her eyes, and breathed once more.
[[ Exiting to Tower ]]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 12:37 pm
"Do you wish to know a secret?"
Roch jerked at the words, looking around to see who was speaking to him. For a moment he stared at the pillars, looking from black to white, then shrugging. He didn’t always agree with his king--he was still wondering why he’d been so willing to die at his side--but he was, when it came down to it, still a White Kingdom officer. He stepped forward, staring at the white pillar for a moment before reaching out with his left hand--his true hand, and touched it. “Tell me this secret,” he said, listening silently as the secret was told.
"Unfortunately, this story has a sad ending. Look below you, at your shadow."
“The kings--“ they weren’t like him? Where had Wilson come from, if--he jerked, looking down at his shadow to see what was going on.
"You are they. But they are not you. You were created from them, a fragment. You were created as a perfect puppet to orchestrate a perfect play. You were created to break, because you are not real."
Roch stared at the reflection below him, falling to his knees and touching the surface. He felt something--he wanted to feel something as he watched a mirror image of himself jumping off of a roof and onto the ground below. It was like a mirror image, where when that Roch looked down--he was looking up at this one. He smiled--no, that wasn’t a smile, that was a flat out grin, so wide that it hurt this Roch’s face to see it. Then the one in the mirror turned, looking at someone else, then raced off, leaving this one behind.
“So... I’m him?” he asked. He didn’t feel anything about the situation he was watching. He had no idea where they guy was, or what he was doing. “Is that a guitar?” he asked, seeing one slung over his back. “He plays a guitar? Wait--if I was just made to break, why was I even created? Why’d you do this t’me?” he demanded. “Do you got any clue how much trouble I had? I was supposed t’follow my king, but I kept questionin’ that and questionin’ myself and--“ He cursed, irritated with the entire thing at this point. “Why’d y’go an’ pick that guy if I’m just a freakin’ PUPPET of him an’ STILL have so many problems?” he demanded. “I don’t understand, dammit! I don’t get it!”
"Shadow, fragment, replica. You are a fake. Your existence was artificially created, and thus, artificially taken from you. You will die without ever existing."
“I get that already. But thanks. So freakin’ much,” Roch drawled. “Nice t’know how valuable I am in this twisted, bagjaggered up little play of yours.” He could feel it, his body losing its solidity, his mind straining to think. He would end here, huh? Told he was a puppet, a copy of some guy he’d never met before, and be forgotten entirely. Would that guy even know?
" Come a little closer, and I shall grant you a small favour. Call it a whim."
Roch hesitated, turning to look at the mirror, although the other him was long gone. Then, hesitantly, he moved closer. The light was overwhelming and he winced, his eyes narrowed as he tried to see what was going on.
Really, it's much more entertaining this way."
“....... Thanks,” Roch drawled. “So glad I could give you entertainment.” For a moment he just stood there, wondering if this pillar, whoever it was, was the reason he had felt that he was supposed to be more--to be someone better--someone that he liked better than himself. Was that who it was? The man in his shadow? Had a part of him wanted to be that man? He sighed, turning to look at the shadow for a moment longer--but that wasn't the shadow.
He was.
He pulled his gaze away and left, no longer the white kingdom mechanic, but rather a silver being, muted and changeable. One that had one last job to do before he was gone. Yes, he was a shadow. A puppet. But maybe, just a little, he had made an impact on someone during this brief life. If not... well, he still had a little more time.
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 12:45 pm
It had not been an honourable death. Davyne felt the faint urge to laugh, slightly hysterical and a bit frayed at the edges - honourable! As if there was any way, any way at all, that a death could truly be something as glorified as that; it couldn't, she knew. It was just death, swift and permanent and slow and inevitable. There was no glory in that, no deeper meaning - no way to make something so bleak and final into anything even resembling honourable. It was an end, one that came to all living things eventually and there was no reason to mince words about what it was and what it meant.
The End.
And suddenly, irrationally, she felt that she'd not achieved enough in life, that all the things that she'd ever done and accomplished amounted to so very little indeed when held up against the feats of her peers. A thriving business, yes, but one that was gone now, fallen to rubble along with the Silver Kingdom - and what else had she managed? No family or friends to speak of, to remember her when she was dead and gone. No great contribution to the fight for becoming the True King. Skills, yes, she'd been skilled - weaving and embroidery, battle and weapon skills. She tried to think back, remember her greatest achievements; her first truly beautiful piece of fabric, the feel of beating a tough opponent in a spar, but the visuals were slow to present themselves and the feelings, the pride that she so clearly remembered was all but hollow now. What did it all mean when she was dead and such skills were all but obsolete?
Lost in her thoughts, it could have been minutes or even hours before Davyne noticed the pillars in front of her. But eventually she did, and the thoughts of her useless life receded, slowly but surely, until the forefront of her mind was filled with nothing but burning curiousity for the sight in front of her.
Then came a whispering. "Do you wish to know a secret?"
And she found that yes, she did wish to know, to have something, anything at all, to distract her from her harsh thoughts of incompetence.
Davyne stepped forward, placed a hand on the white pillar, felt warm and protected and entirely at peace with herself. And then, she listened as the pillar told its story, the story of the True King's object of power and its corruption.
And when she was bid to do so, the golden-haired woman looked down at her shadow and drew a startled breath as she saw not as she had expected, a dark outline of her figure, but instead - instead there is a mirror, empty, only a mirror. But the mirror quickly filled, and Davyne was sure that her fingernails would have to be drawing blood on her palms as tightly as her fists are clenched when she sees the young woman in the mirror. The one who is her, and yet, somehow, fuller and more lifelike than she has ever been, even at her most vibrant.
"You are they. But they are not you. You were created from them, a fragment. You were created as a perfect puppet to orchestrate a perfect play. You were created to break, because you are not real." She cannot draw her eyes away from the mirror, away from the half-grown girl shown there and it takes her a few seconds to process what the pillar has just told her. "What?" Brows slightly furrowed, she finally manages to turn her eyes back to the pillar.
"Shadow, fragment, replica. You are a fake. Your existence was artificially created, and thus, artificially taken from you. You will die without ever existing." Davyne feels herself ready to protest, to argue, because surely this is not so, surely she is real but the recent memory of the girl in the mirror stops her, makes her hesitate. Because that girl... she seems like the essence of everything Davyne ever was and more.
So maybe it is true, and her life means even less than she'd thought, before. She half-laughs, ragged and bitter and nearly succumbing to the self-hate boiling just under the surface because isn't this just perfect, she's even more useless than she'd thought -
- but the self-hate is hard to hold on to as her thoughts become murkier and she starts to feel entirely not there. The final end at last, then?
"Come now, do you really think that is your end? Do you know how long I have waited for someone to actually converse with me? Pride is not my calling, but I will not deny myself a little bit of indulgence. Come a little closer, and I shall grant you a small favour. Call it a whim."
She wrenches herself out of the slight trance she's fallen into, pushing herself towards the pillar with what has not already faded, faintly hears the final words it is telling her before the pillar fades away - or is it her? - and then, at last, a tug -
- and Davyne wakes up.
((EXIT to Tower!))
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 1:28 pm
Was it worth it all? Did it mean anything, her death? She fought for her kingdom. Fought with all the pride she possessed. But did it even really matter? She was but a pawn, used as fodder to take out as many as she could before falling in battle herself. And what would happen to Vashi? That wasn't fair! Though he was only a spell...
Do you wish to know a secret?
Why were there pillars? What secret? She stared blankly towards first the Black, then the White. A step towards the White, then she paused. White seemed like the more obvious. And stood out starkly. A trap? Did it matter?
Fini turned back towards the Black Pillar. Maybe she should have chosen the White...
"I am not!" Fini tried to argue back, though deep down, she felt the words ring true. She was pitiful and powerless. And a- "I'm a what?" She whispered. No. No this object was just spouting out rage filled words! A creation? Of the Great King? "What... " Her voice was growing weaker. A creation. So she truly was just a pawn? A pawn created from pride? She didn't... wasn't...
Her gaze slid to the shadow at her feet. But it wasn't there. Not... exactly. "What is this?" Fini breathed out, staring in utter confusion. It was a mirror. A reflection. But that... that couldn't be her! She was real! Right? Fini lifted an arm, staring at it as the blacked and hollowed figure at her feet mimicked the movement. It couldn't be... She stared as something moved, crouching lower as if to view it better. And then hissed as painfully bright colors hit her eyes. Shielding them, she looked on through narrowed eyes. Watching.
The figure was doing something. It tugged at the back of her mind but, she couldn't grasp it. Oh she tried desperately to understand the feeling, but all that settled over her was a coldness. Like she'd been hit in the gut and betrayed.
Created from... them? Fini looked down again. None of this made sense! How could she be that person when she was right here!
"I don't.... understand... "
A fake? She was a fake? But she could feel! And had memories! Didn't she? Or were they not hers? Again she stared down at the hollowed and blackened figure. I am not real. Saying those words made something settle over her. She was not real. Just a fragment. And there was no point in trying to figure out how she came to be or what was real any longer. She was dead anyways. Wasn't she?
Startled, Fini looked at the Black Pillar again, stepping closer. What did it want with her now? Wait, it was giving her another chance? A chance to... resolve things. Yes, that was what was bothering her! She didn't want to just fade away without resolving the few things she was able to remember! And Pride. Pride was the one who had done this.
"Thank you." Fini murmured with a faint bow as everything faded more rapidly.
I will make Pride pay for this. Pay for everything we've gone through.
And Infinity was thrust back.
[Exit to Tower]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 1:37 pm
She dies a lame, pitiful death and it tugs at her relentlessly even beyond the grave. Jay had expected to die for the glory of her kingdom, to go out in a ball of flames and chaos and excitement, but no such death was given. Just a slow, confusing end that she questions even now. It frustrates her suddenly. What was her death for? What had she done to serve her emperor and kingdom? She wants to clutch her head, curl up on the floor and tune out the world, but instead her mind drifts toward memories, sweet and sour and nostalgic.
A smaller Jay wakes up in bed, curled into a tight ball and completely buried under silk sheets. Only a few choice locks of her turquoise hair peeks out from beneath the white silk, but her mother knowingly tosses a book toward the slumbering child. “Jaida, wake up. You need to study.” She groans. The lump in bed visibly moves, but has no intention to crawl out just yet. Her mother sighs before throwing another book; this time it’s a heavy dictionary that manages to smack Jay in the back of the head.
“Ack! Okayokay.” Her head pops out, revealing unruly hair. She blinks the sleep out of her eyes while combing her fingers through her tangled hair. Jay swings her legs around so bare feet could touch the smooth floor. She shudders at the slight chill, but rises up anyways. The girl hums as she scurries to her closet and slips on her dress, bright red with golden embroidery. She twirls around once while she ties on her bow. Jay leans sideways to peer at her mirror. The child murmurs absentmindedly while she adjusts a few loose strands of her hair before finally bouncing out of the house with books in hand.
Her tiny form melts into the crowd ambling around the streets until she spots a familiar flicker of tawny hair and white clothes. Sea green eyes light up with delight before she begins to squeeze her way through the crowd, through large bosoms and bulging satchels. She pokes out her tongue and closes one eye as she squirms past one last obstacle and grabs Senga’s sleeve. “Senga!” she chirps, jumping onto his back and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Despite his slightly taller height, he still stumbles backwards when she pulls him down with her weight. She can’t see his face, but his face is flushed red. “Jay.” He manages to call out her name, causing the girl to squeeze him tighter. Jay giggles.
When she looks back at her past, she feels strangely empty, but still she continues.
This time she is older, nearly her current height. Her dress is significantly different, now reaching her knees rather than the floor and with different trimming. Bright blues are mixed in here and there and she happily runs her hand over the smooth silk of the ribbon around her waist. She steps back to keep a safe distance between herself and Senga as he practices sword fighting. Jay hums again, her eyes never straying from her childhood friend. She takes in his tawny hair and his golden eyes, his large hand that grips the hilt of his sword, the way he moves nimbly while he fights. There is a funny look on her face as she smiles softly. Love.
The feelings remain, but the memory itself is not as familiar as she thought it would be. She feels like an outsider to her own life, but she doesn’t understand why.
She turns toward two pillars and looks to them for some sort of guidance. Mutely, Jay nods her head as she steps toward the white pillar. She listens attentively, but when it tells her to look down, she senses dread.
There is nothing at first. Only her shadow, but then it swirls together to reveal vibrant colors she could only dream of possessing. She stiffens when she realizes it is her, but not her. She moves with a familiar sense of energy and her eyes glimmer just like hers, but the bright blue wings on her back are a mystery to Jay. “I see.” They are the only words she can manage out at the revelation. She was not real. She was a copy, a shade. Not real.
Jay sighs. To die without ever being alive. How does that work? She feels herself beginning to disappear, but the voice speaks of a favor. Another sigh. “One last time, then.” She closes her eyes once more before she begins to wake up.
[ exit to Tower ]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 2:46 pm
Terra stared at the spot where her shadow had been someone else. Her hand pulled away from the white pillar, falling to her side. Her mind was rushing, taking in the idea that she was not herself--she was just a figment, a moment in time, a flash of memory mixed with whatever whoever had created her thought she should be. What was the real Terra like, she wondered curiously. Did she serve others as she did? Was she a coward?
She couldn’t wrap her mind around it, she admitted silently. She had felt so real. Her body, her mind, her heart--all of it had been dedicated to her life serving her king--but the king wasn’t like her. That’s what it seemed from what the pillar had told her. The king was real. “Will she remember me?” she asked softly, her heart breaking.
No... she was certain that she wouldn’t. Or if she did, perhaps she would think that she was just a figment of her own imagination, a piece of a dream. And that was what she was, wasn’t it, Terra said to herself.
She was starting to fade. She knew her time was up, but her eyes were still real enough to let a tear trickle down her cheek. She wasn’t real. All the things she had done, for others, for herself--none of them had happened. She was--
She stopped as the pillar (or whoever it was) spoke again, and moved closer. She didn’t do it because she wanted that final gift, she did it because she was told to, and a part of her was still a servant at heart. “My job--“ she said, stunned at the idea of not being finished. This was for the voice’s entertainment--but wasn’t all of this?
Silently she nodded, accepting the gift. And the once red handmaiden became silver. She looked behind her again, staring into the darkness that had once been the vibrant female she was based off of. She turned to the shadow, reaching to touch it.
“Take care of my King for me,” she whispered to the shadow, knowing that her other self would not hear--that her other self might not even know her precious king, but there was no one else she could ask. This voice that used her for his own entertainment, whether he put it kindly or not, he was not one she desired to leave Xiu to. She could only hope that her other self was.
For a moment she looked down, letting her eyes close and her mind clear. “I will do as I am told. Red or silver, I am still a good servant,” she whispered to herself. She did not feel that being a servant was a bad thing--no, in Terra’s mind it was a wonderful thing. To help others--even for the final moments of her short life--it was an honor. “Thank you,” she said quietly before turning and leaving.
She had work to do.
[EXIT to tower]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 3:12 pm
[Entering from the Battlefield]
This was not the way Sinclair imagined he would die. He had thought about it before, when the idea seemed as far away as the sun on the horizon, treating it like indulgences of morbid fancy. He would die in a blaze of glory. He would die defending the Silver King; he would die shot down by soldiers, just after he whispered to his countrymen a piece of valuable information that could save their lives; he would die, one day, and his name would be on the lips of everyone in the kingdom. Mourned, revered, and remembered.
Since the Silver Kingdom collapsed, not once had he allowed himself to dwell on the possibility of death. Before, when he envisioned his demise, the fantasy was painted vividly only because it was far-off and improbable; to give the thought life when it was a probability would have destroyed him. He had survived so long because he believed he would. That was his real skill -- not adaptability, not inner strength, but the simple fact that he was very good at pretending. It was what made him such a good performer. It was why, when he was old enough, he jumped at the chance to serve as an informant for the Silver King. He could pretend all he wanted and be praised for it. With each color he donned like a costume, his successes assured anyone who looked at him that he was proud, talented, and worthy of notice.
When he looked reality in the face, who was he?
He was Sinclair Merchenwald, the unremarkable son of equally unremarkable parents. What talents he thought he had were little more than half-studied skills he didn't have the patience to pursue. He didn't have friends in the Silver Kingdom -- he left too frequently to make much of an impression on anyone, fueled by an all-consuming desire for something more. The Silver Kingdom and all its emphasis on neutrality and equality could not nourish Sinclair's need to be placed on a pedestal and recognized as an individual, not simply a member of the group. His pride was why he had loved shadowing the Gold Kingdom and all its splendor. As much as he tried to convince himself the Silver Kingdom was his home, that he was a worthy bearer of its legacy, he had never once felt like he had belonged there. Memories of his time in the Silver Kingdom felt distant -- was that because they were fading, or because he had no real desire to remember them?
He ran away to the Gold Kingdom as often as he could get away with. It sparkled behind his eyes, hazy lights and colors blurring together to create something indescribable and beautiful. Beauty was what the Gold Kingdom meant to him. He jumped at the chance to be a part of that glittering world.
The colors grew brighter, harsher. It wasn't the Gold Kingdom he ran to when it mattered most. Market Day, the scribe was collecting names -- let's have a challenge, he'd thought. The White Kingdom. Sinclair had avoided the stark, unforgiving fortress for so long because...
Because...
White was too close to Silver. He didn't think he could stand out properly in such a harsh place. But he had, for a brief, shining moment; not exactly the way he wanted, but when he arrived on the ship bringing his news about the fall of the Silver Kingdom, he had everyone's attention. Sinclair wanted to know them all; wanted them to like him and look at him that way again.
He didn't know half of their names. Faces blurred until they too were shapeless regrets. Then, the color blue: Zephyros. Why did he cling so hard to him?
Zephyros had been the first to jump to his aid. His eyes, electric blue flaring bright in his memory, had focused on him and him alone; he looked at Sinclair like nothing else in the world mattered. To Sinclair, that meant everything.
Would any of them remember him? He could pretend and say "yes". But now, fighting for the first time against the part of him that wanted to keep his eyes tightly shut, he knew it was time to wake up. What was the point of pretending now?
As if responding to his thoughts, a voice, different from the one he had come to dread, asked: Do you wish to know a secret?
He laughed. "Yes." The sound returned feeling to his limbs, and he stood from the endless void to see two pillars glimmering in front of him. Without hesitation, Sinclair strode towards the white pillar. Its warm glow seemed to beckon him, and as he approached it, he felt almost as though he had been drawn into an embrace. He felt safe as his mysterious storyteller whispered in his ear. But Sinclair knew this story. He had heard it before, underneath the remains of the Silver Tower; or at least he thought he had, until the storyteller added something... else.
Reluctantly, he looked down at his shadow. Below him, he saw a man. The man looked remarkably like himself, but younger, beautiful in ways Sinclair could never be. He was colorful, vibrant, proud as a peacock and possessed of such vitality that he felt lesser just looking at him. He had only dreamed of being someone like this: a star with a smile that could bend the world to his every whim.
The man -- his true self -- turned that dazzling smile to him, and Sinclair felt what little claim he had on himself shatter as he smiled back. Sinclair had drifted through this life dreaming, pretending, performing, but never did he think that everything had been a part of some cosmic play. And yet, it made sense to him in a way he couldn't quite explain. He was not real. Everything he fought and bled for didn't matter, and neither did his failures. In some twisted way, it was terrible and comforting all at once.
One more chance. Sinclair stepped forward to take it.
Let me pretend for a little while longer.
[Exiting to the Tower of the Voice]
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 3:44 pm
Mana and Miasma became one, and that unity could not hold. Madison was torn apart, Kouki vanishing as she did. Her power collapsed to a pinpoint, and then...
... And then, unexpectedly, she was awake, with Kouki curled in front of her, his jet-black body still, in a fetal position. She took a hesitant breath, just to see if she could, then knelt by his side, running one hand down his slick, scaled back. "Kouki..."
The White pillar spoke to her - she had always sought light, the light of power, the light of Pride. And it was of Pride that the pillar spoke to her now, Bitterness crept into her mouth as she listened to those words. Did it... did it mean that her Emperor had been the source of this... this falsehood? This play acted out by fragments? Her memory was still there, rich and vivid as ever, and yet when she compared it to the Pillar's words it seemed dim and dusty, cracked and fading.
... It had never been real. She had never been real before this moment. If, indeed, she was real now.
Kouki awoke under her hands, moving mutely to her side, his presence comforting for a moment before he dissolved, his Miasma fading into her own. Gold became Silver, and she took another, shaky breath. If her Emperor had wrought this, then as His loyal subject she had a duty to see this through. To find the truth. To understand what had happened. And to bring her farce of a life to a close... with whatever meaning she could glean from it.
Silent, she returned.
((exit~))
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 4:16 pm
[From Battlefield]
At first he was confused, the last thing he remembered was everything going black when he tried to return to the Green Kingdom and now he was somewhere else. Somewhere with two pillars and with the knowledge of the fact that he had died with in his head. He stood there for a moment, waring between curiosity of where/how and anger that he had died not from battle but by something happening to his miasma.
In the end the curiosity won as he pushed the anger down and forced a smile on his face. He stepped towards the black tower and felt his anger try to rise again at the words spoken. "I am not powerless." He said, shaking his head. He was ready to deny being a fragment as well when out of curiosity he looked at his shadow as the pillar commanded.
He saw the emptiness in his reflection and the forced smile dropped a bit, only to be gone completely when his reflection changed. Longing like he had never felt before rose up as he stared at the colorful person with in the reflection and he clenched his hands. "A puppet?" The teen asked when the pillars next words registered, still not taking his eyes off this other self in the mirror.
A fake? He was nothing but a fake? Aiden balled his hands into fists and force the smile back onto his face before he started to feel like he was going to disappear and he felt a jolt of panic. It was quickly calmed when he was spoken to again and he felt solid again. Curiosity reigned again when the pillar mentioned a favor and he moved closer, fists relaxing. "So I shall live for a while longer." He stated and the smile became less forced. He would have a chance to do something besides dying pitifully by miasma and get to see how things turned out. "Agreed." As soon as he said that everything began fading again but this time no panic came and his smile widened.
[Exit]
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