It was safe to say that Sasha wasn't thinking clearly, wasn't moving accurately, wasn't as dexterous as she should have been. She wasn't distraught - the emotion she felt was so much deeper than that. A little hysterical, a little crazed. This wasn't supposed to happen to her. Sasha had plans, she had aspirations and a great many things she wanted to accomplish.
Slowly, sluggishly, weakly, Sasha moved from one spot of light to the next, fumbling when the biting shadows came too close.
Once she finally reached the stairs, Sasha slumped down, tears pooling in her eyes. They were silent - she did not cry, she did not sob. She only felt a deep, aching exhaustion that ate away at any confidence she might've had, a soul-searing loneliness, a wretched ache that filled her chest.
Halfway up to the next landing, Sasha crumpled to her knees. The shadows moved in, and her vision blurred. Kind, warm brown eyes flashed in her mind's eye, and Sasha hoped that Wash could forgive her for the mistakes she'd made - not only here, but back on the island as well.
The sun shimmered where she fell, enveloping her in warmth. It kept the shadows at bay, for now.
Hours later the temperature began to drop and the sunlight shifted and faded. Sasha's safe spot steadily grew smaller and smaller until finally, the cold grasping hands of darkness wrapped around her limbs and dragged her away into the shadows.
Posted: Sun May 05, 2013 10:32 pm
At some point she would wake up again. It was maybe a few minutes, or a couple days, a week. A year. A lifetime. But there did indeed come a time when Sasha was once again awake and aware.
When it happens, it's all at once. Everything around her all rushing into existence, except maybe...herself. Her senses are no longer quite inline, everything have a sort of muted numbness to it. At first it seemed somewhat dark, but then a figure moved and her sight finally registered the painful shaft of light several feet away.
The figure groaned, it voice unused and rusty to the point of sounding inhuman. It shifted again and then began to unfold its body off the ground. The dress it wore was familiar if much torn and dirtied. Dead flower petals showered the ground as it shook its hair out of the way.
Sasha watched her body stand up, it's eyes swallowed whole by fathomless black as it stared into the shadows and offered her a rictus grin.
This had to be some sort of horrible dream, and she would wake up and everything would be fine. She'd be in the room she shared with Wash, wrapped securely in his arms with the dull silver light of the island morning breaking through the window, gilding everything it touched.
No. She watched that terrible smile, watched those deep pools of black.
When she woke up, she would be back at home with her beloved papa, and all of this - all of it, every moment - would have been a bad dream. He would give her one of those rare, sacred smiles that never quite reached his eyes. She would sit before him on a small stool while he brushed her sleep-tangled hair. He would make breakfast while she painted, or read a book while she practiced her flute. She would iron his shirts, shave the stubble from his cheeks - and he would tuck her in to bed at night and press a hasty kiss to her forehead before retiring to his drink and pipe outside beneath a blanket of stars.
When she woke up, none of this would be real.
Even as the thoughts slogged through her mind, broken and disjointed, she knew it was a desperate moment of wishful thinking. A terrible hope that this was all unreal.
Sasha attempted to move forward, hollow and broken - exuding a deep yearning followed by a piercing rage.
Nona.
She wanted to destroy the thing that stared back at her, whatever she was now, whatever she'd become - she wanted to reclaim what was lost. Her thoughts came fast, rampant and foggy, misfiring.
Mine.
lizbot
Posted: Sun May 05, 2013 11:48 pm
Her hands, twisted tendrils of shade, burn away as the sunlight touches them. An instant later she could feel them grow back once again. The figure glanced away, eyes tracks to the next pool of light, and then the next. Body tensed, it glanced back at her once more and then it's running away and down the stairs, toward the entrance.
Now the tables have turns! Sasha is unable to reach her body while it stands in light, but it has to dash across the castle's shadows to escape her reach! Once again, roll 1d10 1-5: sasha catches up and attacks the body for 5 damage 6-10: she misses them, and they reach the next point of light
Possessed Sasha has 20hp
There are 6 chances to catch the body before before it exits.
Just as Sasha surged forward, desperately reaching out, the body moved forward into a spot of sun. Upon contact with the ray of light, her shadowed hands jerked back, hissing away into nothingness.
She wanted to scream but found herself voiceless, and seethed after the body, rippling across the shadows of the wall in chase.
Time was running out. There was a large, wide bar of sunlight that blocked off any further progress for Sasha, and as the body approached that cutoff, Sasha moved as fast as she could. If she could make sound, she would. Screams, screeches, cries of agony, of want, of need, of yearning, of hunger.
It wasn't enough. Sasha hit the bar of light and was halted by the bright sunbeam.
Like a caged animal, she paced, shadowy tendrils roiling.
Attack 6/6 Body HP: 5/20 - miss
Lizbot
i feel like i'm playing russian roulette and my heart is going to explode
well
well
/starts ghost student quest
Posted: Mon May 06, 2013 10:48 pm
The body escaped, leaving Sasha alone in castle, a chill wisp of shadow and black rage. Time passed oddly, stretching into a near infinite fraction of a second and then she was gasping awake. The previous numbness gave way to the pain of a body ill-used and malnourished.
A body.
Her body.
She lay on a familiar stone floor, a rocking chair nearby. Glancing around would show that she's woken up in the chapel's small rectory. In the far corner another body lays slumped against the wall, a long streak of blood trailing above it, matching the red coating her own hands quite well.
Sasha lay on that cold stone floor, pain arcing through each and every nerve that traced through her body. It took her a long moment to realize where she was, and an even longer moment to realize that she was not alone.
It did not take her long to realize that her hands were covered in blood, and with a terrified, frightened noise, Sasha glanced from her hands to the body slumped across the room.
Slender fingers, covered in grime and blood, trembled as she reached for her jacket pocket in hopes of finding her phone. It was dim, and she wasn't even sure if she still wore her jacket, but suddenly it seemed crucial to find out how long, exactly, she'd been at the estate.
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