Once again hearing that Paranoia wanted her wall built higher and still feeling as if she had forgotten something, Wyng returned to the Wall to see if she could help again. Again she heard the goddess urge : "The Wall 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." Not remembering what was kept at bay last time, Wyng contemplates doing so, but then decides that if a goddess has asked it, she must have asked it for a reason.
While looking around for building materials, Wyng saw other beings also working on the wall. Some were carrying and dragging material to build up the wall with while others were scaling it, fixing things just so until their forms stilled and grew slightly vacant. It was then that she noticed again the figure of the wall itself. The wall seemed to be both huge and small, to be both orderly and a mess, but it needed built upon.
Continuing in her search for materials, she found a USB drive, having never seen one before, she picked it up to examine it. Asking one of the other shadows what it is and how to use it, Wyng is directed over to a section of the wall full of computer equipment. After trying the drive in all sorts of sockets, since she did not know where it was supposed to go, Wyng finally happened upon a simple and sleek computer tower. Trying the drive in several sockets on the tower, she finally slides the drive into the correct socket and the tower sprung to life.
Every screen displayed different pieces of information. In several, Wyng saw an odd sort of computer code scrolling rapidly down. In others, she saw calculations and graphics, data of varying sorts slipping past with an intensely focused sort of speed. In one, she saw the image of a red-haired man talking. She was unable to hear him, but she could tell that the program seemed to be mapping his every expression. Then another screen flickered on and she saw a blonde young woman adjusting the computer's camera. With a painfully familiar smile, she stepped back and began narrating. "This is R-type Golem trial number three. The date is March 5th, 2012. The time is 0200 hours." The woman then turned to another computer, and typed something quickly. While she was typing, Wyng took the time to examine the woman's surroundings. In the background there was a metal table, and squinting, she noticed that it was covered in dirt, or possibly mud. Then the woman continued on. "The new core has been modified with changes 1a-1nn." She said while continuing to type and then she looked up towards the table and said, "I am now initiating golem formation and personality installation."
As she watched, the mud on the table began to move, at first it turned into a small ball in the center of the table, but then it elongated into a body shape. It continued to grow more and more distinct and detailed, even going so far that the color of the mud shifted until it looked like there was a young man on the table. After a moment it, he?, sat up and Wyng could tell that he was the red-haired man from the other monitor. For a moment, he just stared vacantly at the woman, and then he scratched the back of his neck a little awkwardly. The thing that really startled Wyng was that when the man went to speak, his mouth slid off of his face. Wyng continued to stare in revulsion as the rest of him crumbled and slipped back into a muddy, messy pile.
Then the woman turned back to the camera while sighing and said "Trial 3 is a distinct failure. Stability has worsened. Modifications 1a-1nn will be removed and examined individually at a later time." Then she reached towards the screen and it went blank. At the same time, another one flickered to life displaying a similar scene, and then another, and another, until the entire wall was playing various different tests of the man being born from the mud, breaking or acting oddly, sometimes violently, and then returning once again to the earth. The scenes grew briefer and briefer until all of the monitors went blank. A moment later, all of the monitors came back to life and they all had the same image: the same woman as before, though a little older now, a little happier and more confident staring solemnly towards 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 hit a key on the other computer, a newer one than before, and said, "Change 198rr is now in place."
This time, the man formed more quickly, one moment he was mud, but the next he was breathing, sitting up, and smiling at the woman whom looked at him in pleased recognition. She then began to carry out some test on him, all of which went well, and when he lost his form that time, it was only after they had said goodbye to one another, and promised to see each other soon. It's obvious to Wyng that the tangible aspects of the golem had improved greatly, but it also had a spark of life within his eyes.
Then the screen flickered again and Wyng saw a number of moments in her own life, at least she thought it was her own life. After all, she did not think she had ever shifted to a horse form, but there was a young filly turning into a younger looking version of her. Elsewhere were images of both the filly and the girl learning to hunt, luring to lure prey, and learning how to drag heavy, struggling things to the bottom of a lake. All of these things were necessary for carnivorous amphibious beings, but what did it have to do with her? In each of the screens was either an onlooking woman or a mare, watching her progeny with pride, for this child was her hope for the future.
Then, suddenly, the screens shifted again and a single, massive image of the Goddess stared down at her. "Your only hope is in survival," her voice boomed from a hundred small speakers. "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 reached out from the monitors and wraps Wyng's entire body in her hand. Her hand is incredibly strong and envelopes Wyng, protecting her. The power behind it could have easily snapped her into small pieces with the barest flex. Then the hand let go, pulling the memories of the golem experiment and of her learning all of the ways of kelpies from her mother away from her, and withdrew back into the wall of monitors.
Wyng was left dizzy and little claustrophobic as one by one, the screens switched to a blue error window. A sense of dread filled her as the overwhelming presence of the Goddess faded away. Again Wyng truely believed that the Wall continued to keep all the terrible things at bay.
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 12:23 am
He was back here again. He was back because he was going to get another memory back, and this time he wasn't going to let her take it. They were his. They belonged to him.
He found the tape, and eventually, finally, he slotted it into place. Moved by inexorable instinct he watched the scenes play out.
And the first part had meant nothing, except that everything seemed so bloodsoaked, lately, and more and more as time went on. Without meaning to, without realizing it, he let his eyes stray up to the red moon, and then slowly back.
He watched the screen go dark, and then flicker back to life.
A bland but pretty suburban living room. The sort of generic faux-Mediterannean decor you saw in every house that looked like this, the "neutral" paint that was a fancy term for off-white, the thick pile rug on the shining hardwood floors. A comfortable living room, upper-middle-class, vaulted ceilings. Framed family photo collages of dark-haired boys and girls playing, and graduation photos. A photo of a slender young man with long hair and a tattoo around his forearm playing with a huge white puppy and smiling. There are pink balloons tied to some of the furniture, and from the room next door--the glimpse through the open-floor-plan arch suggests the kitchen and the dining room--there is the laughter of many adult and teenage voices, the raucous noise of many people all talking at once, trying to be heard, in a friendly and loving game of shout-each-other-out. The living room is an oasis of calm.
An enormous white dog lopes through the scene, temporarily disrupting the view of the room's occupants: a tiny, pretty little girl with a foil crown bearing the number 4 resting on a profusion of dark blonde curls, and, seated on the floor with his arm around her waist, a gaunt, wasted-looking man.
He looked at the man's skinny trembling hands, helping the child press some buttons on a toy that was whirring away in some electronic voice, asking her what animal started with an M, and he looked down at his own hands, and back at the screen.
Jesus Christ. Do I look like that?
But the girl doesn't seem to mind the way his stubble peppers the sunken hollow of his cheek, or the way his hands shake, or the fact that his eyes are drowning down in the deep hooded shadows of his brow and his dark circles. He looks like a walking corpse but the little girl, when the toy makes a triumphant sound and flashes a green light, turns to beam at him with a smile that makes his legs feel watery. A smile that wants him to be proud of her.
I'm so ******** proud of you. I am. Please don't ever think I wasn't. The only worthwhile thing I ever did for the world was bringing you into it, even if I ******** that up too.
The man rests his cheek in her hair, and helps her find what animal starts with an H. More triumphant noises and green lights, and he smiles--not a grin or a smirk but a real smile--and then makes an exaggerated face of shocked congratulations, clapping his hands. Someone calls out that the cake is ready, and the little girl is excited, and he laughs and scoops her up over his shoulder like she's a plank of wood, growling and bouncing her up and down to her exaggerated shrieks of faux-terror that dissolve into giggles. He takes her into the kitchen and the screen has only the audio. The living room is empty again save for the people in the photos.
A smoke-rough but quiet voice says something complimentary about the cake to someone he calls Mom, and an older woman's voice laughs and says something about not giving her too much credit because she'd picked it up at the grocery store.
The voices pause. Someone laughs, and then 1, 2, 3--
Happy birthday to you.
And then cheering, broken up by a rough and rattling cough.
The film cuts, and the room is the same, but dark. The balloons drift to and fro in the draft from the ceiling fan, and the voices are silenced. In the dark the man with Amity's hands lies on the sofa, covered in a knit blanket, and he takes a battered cellphone out of his pocket and he speaks lowly into it while he quietly, distractedly, strokes the enormous dog behind the ears. The dog is lying on the couch next to him and although there is not room for both of them the man with Amity's hands seems to want him there. The gleam of the phone screen reflects white on his face where recent tears have left glossy streaks.
"Yeah," he says. "I was thinking about--about your offer."
"I understand that," he says. A long pause.
"Yeah. Sign me up," he says.
Some time passes and it sounds as though he is negotiating a business meeting, or a trip. His voice is calm and collected. He deals with the details carefully, repeating everything back in a level tone. And then he hangs up the phone.
The man with Amity's hands stares silently at the ceiling, scratching under the dog's collar. He stares for a long time, face blank and stoic. The room is almost silent: just the ambient whirr of comfortable technology and the ceiling fan, and the occasional sound of pink balloons gently jostling one another.
And then, suddenly, like a dam breaking, his face twists up into an ugly contorted expression of grief and loss, and without making a sound--like someone who long ago learned to do this silently and without disrupting anyone--the man with Amity's hands begins to cry again, with his fingers pressed to his mouth and his shoulders shaking violently. The dog's eyebrows twitch worriedly and the man with Amity's hands wraps his arms around him and cries into the dog's neck.
Static.
Amity sat among the wreckage of the Wall and he realized that he was sobbing, soundlessly, the way a person cries who learned long ago to do this silently and without disrupting anyone. He knew what was coming. He braced himself as the figure took shape and leaned out of the screen and he was too powerless with grief to resist.
"That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again."
OFF THE AIR.
That's all he ever wanted to be. He never asked for any of this. He turned away and felt the Wall at his back.
The Wall kept the bad things away.
He wondered, even as he stumbled away, whether the Wall could be scaled.
And there was nothing there, but thought he felt, for a split second, the warmth of long coat sleeves, and the slightly-choking feeling of a scarf around his neck, and the cool sensation of a ring around one finger.
He wandered to the far edges of the world, contemplating his choice of attacks. By far, that one move was the most damaging...yet it will draws his heart closer to insanity each time he chose to use it.
His view stumbled upon...a large wall. Scratch that. MASSIVE wall.
But it was incomplete. And such, shadows are gathering at the unfinished part.
Should you help? It was not your home, per se---
A voice resounded from the fog. It was oddly familiar. It tells him to build the Wall, for it was safety.
Hmm. Thinking back, he DID owe the Goddess of this place for saving him from his defeat back when The Broken Blade and Molten took hold of his sanity.
So he will return that favor now.
He looked around for any suitable building material, for the Wall is something like a hodge-podge of anything. Cars, skyscraper, tank, Eiffel Tower...
What are he saying? Those object's name didn't even make sense to him.
He looked around...
And found a bouquet of dried flowers. How did this end up here?
Sitting quietly in a dark corner, the flowers may not seem the best sort of building material at first, but upon closer inspection, the seem perfect. They seem necessary. Important, even. It doesn't take long to find a place for them upon the wall, a large beaker gleaming invitingly on top of a pile of rubble.
He climbed the rubble, placed the flowers into the make-do vase--- and looked up up into the eyes of a nervous man, his face earnest and good-natured.
"-wh-?"
In a careful tone, 'you' spoke, "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?" He grows more nervous, and 'you' proceed to flirt and bargain. It feels good, despite all 'your' fears, it feels right to finally have this, to allow it to happen. 'You' deserve this. 'You' deserve love.
'You' look down at your desk, but it's been replaced by an operating table. A familiar face stares lifelessly up at you amid the various remains. 'You' smile wryly at him and then pick up the scalpel. 'You' deserve this. 'You' never could hold on to anything good.
Eir looked up and the scene has shifted to one of HIS own memories; Rei's memories to be exact---of when the fragments from the crumbling down White Tower smashed the house of his childhood friend into pieces...
A bloodied hand extended from beneath the rubble.
Eir opened his mouth to scream, but--
A warm presence soon drags him away from it. The Goddess of Protection (Paranoia) leans over him, smelling the flowers and then drawing back with a gentle smile.
"Such a terrible thing," she whispers in his ear. "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 his head.
As the memory from before fades away into nothing, Eir saw her bend over the flowers and exhale, color and life filling them.
The Goddess soon slips away, leaving him with a refreshed bouquet, along with a sense of safety and warm affection.
The Wall continues to keep all the terrible things at bay. And it will continue to do so.
Something shone in the middle of the bouquet. Eir is familiar with this glow...
[Eir acquired Blessing!]
As the Blessing entered his heart, he can feel a new power coursing his body. The Blessings of Warmth resonated with this new one.
[Eir was hushed away by the busy shadows...]
OOC
Character name: Eir Character appearance: A shadow with red, pulsating core. Has matured from what he was before... Link to Heart Log[ x ] Current HP 50/50 Special Ability: Wild Card Chance: If you roll an unfavourable dice (such as trying to roll dice to survive in an area), you may choose to reroll that dice. This ability can be used THREE TIMES in a NON BATTLE condition (except in some cases). In battle, you may re-roll in the Loot phase should you find it not to your liking (as per Ability update 11/08 ) Racial Ability: Ghost: [Mist Hunter] 2x Loot for the first 3 successful battles (3/3 used). Current weapon equipped Agony's Twin. Effect: HP = 50 Atk = 2d10 - 6. Special: Miss: Extra roll w/o getting AutoDamage. 1x /Battle.
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 3:35 am
She was once again ceased with the task of building the wall higher. It wasn't any trouble. It made her happy to assist the goddess, in fact.
There was an old casette sitting in the corner, and it seemed as good a place to start as any.
Igny watched in fascination as the scene unfolded. There was a woman staring at her with an eerily empty expression. The scene grew more and more macabre as Igny watched, blood pooling from nearly every crevice. She stared at the figures, terrified as to what they were. They weren't like the girl.
Time sped up. Igny tried to look away, but found herself ensnared. The hooded figure and the woman shared a discussion, one that Igny found herself unable to follow. Creating life? Destroying life? Igny frowned as the man told her she couldn't create life. That was ... that was cruel. To only be able to destroy life- how empty. How lonely. That wasn't a life that Igny wanted for herself. She wanted to save and protect those who couldn't do those for herself. She determined that when she was a goddess, no one would have to make a decision as cruel as that.
The screen fuzzed over and Igny watched a new memory. An explosion, a bright white light. She stared into the screen, trying to discern meaning. Suddenly a boy's face appeared on the screen. She watched.
---
"They're all gone."
Silence. He didn't respond.
"Jing they're ... they're all ..."
Silence. Neither of them said a word as Ying moved into an embrace with her brother, collapsing to the floor. "Mom ... dad ...They're ..." He squeezed tighter. A wordless way to tell her stop talking.
What words could be said?
---
Igny found herself clutching the screen tightly, tears streaming down her face as the goddess touched it. "That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again." Igny nodded. She welcomed the release of the memory, the disappearance of the twins. She didn't want that memory. She wanted to become a goddess.
For a moment, she sat there wordlessly waiting for something more. Something less. Anything at all.
Nothing came.
OFF THE AIR.
chiickadee
Princess Hoarder
Offline
Minsuil
Enduring Elder
Offline
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 3:49 am
Lliote was standing at the Wall again. He found himself gravitating towards it and started looking for something to add. He noticed a small glowing plastic thing and bent down to pick it up. It was a USB. He ascended the wall and looked for somewhere to put it. It was harder than he expected; the Wall was covered in computer equipment but that didn't seem to be the right place to put the USB... Then Lliote saw the wall of monitors and noticed the USB slot. He knew, the moment he saw it, that this is where the USB belonged. Various things streamed past, some he recognized, most he didn't. And then it's her. Not her but the blonde on the screen is another familiar figure and--
Images, scenes, fly past him. Lliote watched as the man of mud is formed, broken, and reformed over and over. And then, then at the very end. He is complete. He is not a failure. The blonde had succeeded. Something swells in his heart but he doesn't know it's name.
Elliot.
Elliot.
Elliot, I trust you.
--
The tree grows barren and the meet less and less and then not at all and in the end, in the end it is just him. Him and the shadows and loneliness.
It's ok. They're all old friends after all.
-- In summer the lake is a brilliant blue. You can see clear through to the bottom. She reaches for his hand. He knows what it means. It means 'I'm scared but everything will be okay because you're here.' It means, she trusts him. It means, he's strong. He lets her grip his hand.
In the summer, the lake is a brilliant blue. You can see clear through to the bottom but when something, someone, stirred the lake bed up everything grew foggy. Something swims in the bottom of the lake and it isn't human.
She grips tighter. It's okay. He's strong enough.
The scene shifts. A Goddess stares down at him. Your only hope is survival. Her voice is so loud it echoes through his head. "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 through the monitor and warps itself around him. He expects it to hurt but it doesn't It is warm, strong, protective. She draws back.
The screens flash blue. The Wall keeps him safe. But Lliote cannot swallow the dread in his throat.
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 8:17 am
Again the wall. Ralifa had found herself standing here again. The urge to build, make it higher, make it wider. To protect was great. The soft, soothing voice of the Goddess whispering in her ear, the tips of her fingers on her spine. It was enough to send chills throughout her body.
Others were building, climbing. Placing more and more stuff to build the wall. And she was just standing there. She couldn't stand there anymore. So Ralifa began to rummage about for something. Anything.
She had to build the wall.
It was small and hard to see at first. The glowing blue plastic and metal was cold between her finger tips. What kind of thing was this? It seemed like it would fit into something, but what. She approached the wall. There were many strange boxes with slots that seemed like it could fit. Trying a few, none seemed to fit just right.
Until she came upon a particular one, it drew her in. Slip. It was a perfect fit. A whirring noise filled the air, screens flashed on and she shielded herself. Awaiting perhaps some sort of explosion and for the wall to come crumbling down. But it didn't. Lowering her arm, she looked at all the screens. Some had strange writing, others strange pictures. Everything moving at a rapid pace it was hard to keep up.
A man with red hair, Ralifa could not hear his voice. A woman with yellow hair, she adjusted the camera she was smiling into. And then her voice rang out.
"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."
Ralifa squinted at the table behind her. Was that dirt? Mud. She continued to watch. All of a sudden the mud began to move. Shifting into a small ball in the center of the table. The clasped a hand over her mouth as she watched in horror the ball began to take form. Finally it had turned into the man with the red hair. Ralifa's eyes went wide as he sat up. And in an instant he crumbled to pieces.
"Trial 3 is a distinct failure. Stability has worsened. Modifications 1a-1nn will be removed and examined indiviually at a later time." The woman reached towards the screen, turning it off. But then suddenly multiple screens began to flick on. All similar scenes with the same red haired man being born from mud then crumbling to bits. Sometimes he was violent just before, other times he had just acted awkwardly.
Then they all went black.
Ralifa leaned forward, tapping at the glass of the monitors until they all turned on. The same woman, only slightly older appeared once again. "This is R-type Golem trial number six-hundred and thirteen. The date is November 16th, 2014. The time is 0300 hours." The hit a key on a machine that looked a bit more advanced than her first once. If Ralifa was any judge of advancement. "Change 198rr is now in place." Again the man formed, quicker this time. But what she noticed now was the life, the spark in his eyes. In his being. He was not quite as simple as he had started and it took longer for him to crumble apart.
The screen flickered, bits and pieces of Ralifa's own life flashed across the screens. She....she couldn't remember. What was....she clutched her head before doubling over. Something....there was something. Ho...
An image of the Goddess soon appeared, her voice booming knocked Ralifa back onto her butt. Staring up at her with wide eyes as a hand reaches out, wrapping itself around her entire body. It was warm. As she was released the memories were pulled away. Taken so easily.
Ralifa slumped there on her knees in the dirt. Staring at the screens as the flicked blue. Dread filled her where the memories had left a hole.
And the wall still stood.
OOC
Character Name: Ralifa Link to Heart Journal:[x] Current HP: 30 Special Ability: Rook's Ambition [b[Species Ability: Famine Horseman Current weapon equipped: ---
She was back, once again, at the wall. Mnezara watched as others lumbered about, building it higher. The Goddess had asked of them to do so, and so they did.
Sometimes she wondered if they were just puppets, but it wasn't as if there was anything else they could do. Perhaps, if she did what she was told, she would learn more. Understand about this place, and these strange tasks and--
She stopped at a cassette and soon found where she could slide it into place.
The image flickered and then presented itself. It was utterly foreign, and she had never seen these people on the screen before. They talked about things she didn't understand. Save lives? Taking them? But not create...? What? Her eyes narrowed at the man. Those words were too cruel, too harsh. Why--
And then, someone vaguely familiar appeared on screen.
---
A little girl with long blond hair swam frantically through the stormy ocean, searching, calling out names. "Papa! Raddie! Someone! Please--"
Two blond heads bobbed in the distance, and she dived underneath the water, swimming in that very direction. Her head emerged when she got closer and she gasped. "Papa, you--"
"Marzena." The bearded man's face went dark as soon as he saw her, grasping her arm tightly. "What are you doing here?"
"I..." She gasped. "Papa, listen to me, please, I..."
"You're not allowed to be here." He roared, over the thunder rumbling in the distance and the waves crashing around them. Blue eyes flickered to the boy bobbing silently besides him, a boy that looked to be around the girl's age. "You knew, didn't you?"
"Papa, please..." She begged, tears running down her cheek.
"I should have known you would never keep a secret from your sister." He growled, the grip of his hand tightening around her arm. "The both of you are groun--"
"Papa, please!" The girl yelled, and once he turned to look at her properly, with her tear stained cheeks, his eyebrows knit in confusion. "What?"
"Mama's gone." She whimpered. "He took mama's skin, papa, and..."
He released her arm immediately. "Where."
She pointed shakily off into a direction, and he threw himself into the raging waters. The little girl looked at the boy, and though his face was shell-shocked, he swam closer and pulled her into his arms. "Mama's... gone?" He whispered brokenly.
"Mama's gone, Raddie." She sobbed. "I couldn't..."
--
Mnezara had been so focused on the screen that she hadn't been aware of the wetness on her cheeks until the Goddess emerged from the screen. "That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again."
She let the Goddess take it.
And she was better.
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 10:16 am
Nush could hear the goddess's voice whispering to him over the fog. The wall still needed to be built. What the goddess wants is what the goddess shall receive. Building the wall would only help them keep safe anyway. And so he set out to collect materials.
With a bit of searching, he managed to come across a VHS tape. It was old and dusty, but its shape should work nicely to add as a brick for the wall. He didn't really look at the label, and instead just looked to see if he could find a place to put it. A TV with a big VHR flickered not too far off. This should work nicely, he supposed.
He went on and slid the tape into the machine. The screen flickered for a moment, then a discolored image of a hospital room came up. There's a woman on one of the beds. She looked sickly thin and pale. She was also covered in blood, or rather, it was her nightgown that was. As she was staring up at the camera, he took notice that the back wall was splattered with red and two bodies laid unmoving on the ground. The time on the tape sped up until a hooded figure entered the room, then things went back to normal.
Nush tilted his head slowly as he listened to the male figure speak to the girl, curious of what was going on here exactly. Something about the girl being able to kill easily, but not able to really nurture.
The screen flickered. He suddenly saw himself.
"MITSU" he shouted, just before seeing her vanish, along with all the white coated figures. He was completely stunned, and he found himself staring at the empty space where they all stood just a moment ago. She was gone. They had taken her. The realization that he may never see her again was slowly dawning on him. And for a moment, he was numb from shock.
Various different things began to fill him as that faded off. He wanted to scream. He wanted to murder them. He wanted to...
The screen flickered once more, as arms reached out to embrace him yet again. The goddess was here again, attempting to sooth the pain that felt so real now. She blinded him for some time. And when he was able to see again, he felt numb.
Right. The goddess shall protect. And so shall this wall.
Blade Kuroda
Militant Raider
Offline
Enoh Love
Offline
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 11:07 am
Build, her Goddess commanded. Build, she would.
Like before she left, searching out for something, anything, to build the wall with. To reinforce it, to keep out the bad things that no doubt lingered on the other side. The first thing she came across was a VHS tape, and a little search after provided a player and a TV on which to watch it. Not that she knew what she was doing; she merely saw the open gape of the player and knew it would fit the tape perfectly. She had only been attempting to reinforce that hole, but to see something be played...it was almost like a treat. A little something to reward her for her good deed.
What played out before her though, was by far a treat. It was horrifying. The hollow stare, the desolation of silence...and finally knowing that no matter what you did, you could only take life, not give it. Doomed to ruin lives and never to nurture one of your own. Marati wrapped her arms around herself, nausea filling her as waves of an old memory came back.
The searing pain of something snapping into her core, the complete numbness that followed. The rest of the world seemed to be a blurr, and somehow, inexplicably, she was in her room again. Alone. Face down on her bed. The realization hit her then; everything she had done, everything she wanted to do, was now out of her reach. She was a pawn. A Toy. A spy. She would be used to hurt her friends, after watching them being hurt over and over again. Nothing she could ever do from this point on would ever bare fruit.
There would be another Israfel, choosing the Hunters over their own.
There would be another Riley, so infected by the Insanity disease that she turned to stone, and died.
There would be another one like her, becoming something she hated against her will.
The world closed in around her; opportunities lost, and would never be returned again. She could no longer help, no longer leave the confines of her room, too afraid to be a danger to her friends than to risk leaving. They couldn't use her if she didn't move. It was the only choice. She couldn't hurt anyone if she cut off all ties.
The tears started to fall, and before she knew it she was sobbing into her pillow, clutching it tightly against her chest. She hadn't heard the door open, but it did. She didn't feel the bed shift under the weight of someone else. The hand that rested on her head, that stroked her hair in an attempt to console her, did nothing.
"Do you want my honest opinion, Amrita?" Remi's voice reached her ears as she cried, and it continued on despite not getting an answer from her. "You need to fight. Don't let them get you down like this. I'm not saying forget, this is something no one would be able to erase...I'm saying let this make you stronger. Get up, dust yourself off, and step out there. Prove to them that their little tricks aren't going to stop you. Fight."
"I can't." She sobbed, her voice as broken as her spirit. "I can't. I can't..."
The vision shifted and distorted and suddenly, arms were reaching for her. Enveloping her in the calm, soothing way that only her Goddess could provide. That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again~. Ghostly fingers reached in, pulling free the very visions that threatened to break her. It was like taking a deep breath, and letting it go.
The wall would protect them.
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 1:25 pm
Acerola somehow found herself back at the Wall. She knew what she had to do. Build it higher. She had to strengthen it. Everyone else was. She had to do her part to. For them. For the Goddesses. She went off to search for materials once again.
This time, Acerola found an old VHS cassette. Her first thought was, "Does anyone even use these anymore?". Her second thought was "How do I even know that?" Her curiosity vanished as quickly as it came. All she knew was that she could use it. It had "security" on it after all. Maybe there was some information or hints as to how to make the wall safer. In the worst possible case, she could feed it to the Wall.
She made her way over to where she saw an old TV set and placed the tape through the slot to play the VCR cassette. What played horrified Acerola.
A woman appeared on the screen. There were two bodies, probably dead, were also on the ground. Blood was everywhere. It stayed like this for many hours, until a figure entered. They conversed...or rather, the man who had entered the room spoke.
The screen flickered, and something else, unrelated seem to play.
Clara had a figure gripped by her two hands, her teeth bared. A figure behind her tried to stop her, but she could see the fury in his eyes as well. The figure seemed to take a step forward, as to stop her, several times, but would quickly take a step back again.
"Don't try to stop me, Shu." Clara growled. The other figure, Shu, took a step back. While this was going on, the figure in Clara's hands, bleeding from various places and sporting a bruised eye, had a frightened, yet defiant look on his face. A smirk shown through the blood. Clara, seeing the smirk, hit the figure with as much force as she could muster. Shu made to grab the arm, but Clara smacked the arm away.
"Please stop, Clara." Shu said softly. "Please, you must save your mental state and sanity."
But it seemed Clara had snapped a long time ago. She was smiling as she hit the figure over and over again, blood flying everywhere, but she was enjoying it. Vengeance will be hers.
Acerola almost felt disgust at the figure on the screen. Yet, it looked really familiar. The other figure did as well, but this one more so. The screen seemed to shift, and the Goddess emerged from the screen. Her hand seemed to reach out....
...and after a while, she didn't remember anything. She remembered the wall. Yes, the wall. For the wall, she was going to continue building.
He was back at the wall, and they were being asked to build again. He could do that, it hadn't been that hard of a task, and he began to scrounge once more for something to use.
He couldn't find anymore bricks, but he had found a USB drive. That could work, and he stared at in curiosity. It was a small thing of glowing blue plastic and metal, and he walked down the wall to find someplace where it would go. There were computer parts all over, but it wasn't until he reached a sleek tower that he stopped, sliding the stick in.
A entire wall of moniters light up, with all sorts of things popped up on the screens. He glanced over them all, but focused on one when it began to have sound.
"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 he saw scenes of someone who looked like him, filled with familiarish faces.
Playing a flute on a boat.
The memory of snow.
Laughter.
A kiss.
A forest clearing filled with people in cloaks.
The screen cleared, until a giant figure of the goddess stared down at him. "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 reached out and wrapped him in her hand, enveloping him, protecting him. It would be easy for her to destroy him and he knew that he would let her. She let go, pulling the memories away, and into the wall of monitors.
The screens began to turn blue, and he felt dizzy, and slightly claustrophobic. Her presence faded, and he began to feel a sense of dread. "Don't leave us."
The Wall continues to keep all the terrible things at bay. For now.
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 2:53 pm
Build the wall higher, the Goddess urged. If the Goddess so wished it, Ikait would obey. He walked around once more in search of materials. He couldn’t find something sensible like the brick from before, so instead he picked up what appealed to him—a USB drive. He couldn’t understand why he didn’t slip it into the first hole he saw. It just didn’t seem right to him. He had to find the perfect place, and eventually he did. The moment he slid in the USB, a wall of monitors flickered to life.
Some display scrolling walls of coding he couldn’t understand. Others revealed calculations and graphics and data. They piqued his interest, but moved by at a speed too quick for him to read. Instead he looked toward the lone screen showing a man with red hair. Ikait walked toward the screen, watching the program apparently map out his expressions as another nearby monitor reveals a blonde woman.
There was no context for the experiments the woman appeared to be performing, but it interested him nonetheless. Things like science and experiments were intriguing to watch. He crossed his arms, one hand lightly covering his mouth as he observed and tried to gather information to piece a whole picture together. The scenes were similar, but not completely the same. Again and again the woman tested out her so-called golems, making modifications here and there. The scenes began to shorten, fast forwarding until the woman appeared older, expression confident and happier. His eyes lit up with curiosity.
This golem appeared different. He formed quickly. He performed the tests given to him with relative ease. When he crumbled apart, it was done with a proper goodbye. Perhaps this was a victory for the woman?
He flips through the book in his arms. There’s no need to sit down and properly read when he’s read every book in the library multiple times already. There’s nothing new for the skeleton to learn, to absorb, but there is no other way to gather more knowledge. Not unless he leaves the bathhouse.
“Mother, I was thinking…”
The words repeat over and over again. He speaks gently, with patience. She answers back with the same amount of care.
The scene replays over and over, but sometimes the background changes. Their outfits are not the quite the same. Sometimes it’s a bathhouse. Other times a proper room. Even outside with the cherry blossom trees swaying.
But one time she pauses. “I’ll think about it. I need to talk to your father about this first.”
No sure answer, but it’s enough for the glow of his eyes to flare up. “Yes, I understand.”
One day he would be able to leave and explore the rest of Halloween. He knew it.
The screen flickered, changing to reveal the Goddess. Her voice echoed from hundreds of speakers, booming down on him. His brows furrowed, lips parted to ask a series of questions before he decided against it. “…I understand.” He didn’t, but allowed her hand to wrap around him and draw out another memory.
Arms are crossed when he stared at the error screens with a confused expression.
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Eranas
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Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 3:04 pm
The next day it was the same. He came walking into the area slowly, carefully. His eyes examining each and everything that was added to the wall. They seemed to be silly things-- except for the bricks. How would flowers and melted flashlights be able to help build a wall?
As the Goddess asks them to pursue further, for more protection, he begins searching for the next item. It doesn't take him too long to find the Cassette and he stares at it couriously.
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.
A strange being is flying in the air. It's flying around several other strange beings, they're all more colorful than the first. The full blues and greys on the first being mesh with him and the sky. It camouflages him from the group.. and when they think he's disappeared, they fly off even without looking for him.
Ezophyr realizes these things are called Quetzalcoatl's...
The small grey and blue quetzalcoatl continues to get ignored by the other more colorful ones. He continuously tries to get their attention until he finally attacks them all. Tearing at them with his teeth violently. Snapping and hissing..
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.
Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 4:18 pm
Andie was back at the wall, the whispers of the goddess in his ears again, urging him to build. He set off to find the next helpful item and it didn't take long to find an USB drive that drew him in like the flashlight had. He returned to the wall and instead of climbing it, walked along the side where there was computer systems everywhere. On and on he walked until he found the perfect computer tower for the little drive. He carefully inserted it into the slot and the wall lit up.
The information scrolling on the screens was hard to keep up with so his eyes ended up focusing on first a red haired man and then a blonde woman that started to talk. Andie listened to her with rapt attention as she narrates her actions and the mud began to form into a creature. Then the creature melted and he felt a pang of sympathy for the woman who looked disappointed. The screens started to change with similar scenes on them and he tried to watch them all but they changed too fast to keep up with more then a few.
Finally all the screens settled on one scene to follow. He smiled at her success at the experiment then the screens started to flicker again but with things completely different.
"Come on, you can do it!" He heard as he once again got on the surf board. He had already fallen off four other times but he wasn't going to stop until he pulled this off! He pushed his self and the board out farther and turned to face the beach, getting into a ready position. It wasn't long until the next worthy wave came in and he stood up, fighting to keep his balance and to stay on. It seemed like he would fall again but he managed to stay up right this time much to the joy of him and his friend waiting for him.
Scene changed again.
He was sweaty, tired and his arms were shaking from exhaustion. He had stopped a moment to catch his breath and risked a glance down at the ground far below him making his breath catch in his throat. "Don't stop climbing and stop looking down." His friend called from farther up, already on the aimed for ledge. He pulled his eyes away from the ground and looked up at her with a shaky sigh. "Right, I can do this." He said in a mini pep talk then lifted one hand higher up to grab onto a handhold and pulled his self up more. He kept up the motions, slowly getting faster until finally he was being helped over the ledge edge to sit by his friend. "Told you it wasn't so bad." She said cheerfully.
Andie was smiling from the images when the screens changed to the goddess. The smile was quickly dropped as she scowled him and made him feel guilty for being happy, For having hope. But then she reached down and took the memories and the world got dizzy. He only knew that the wall was still keeping him safe.
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.
You begin your task by searching for materials...
This was a new area to explore and something about it gave her the heebie jeebies... But it was safe, right? The wall was supposed to keep out all of the things that went bump; all of the Creepers and the Worms. The Wall was safety and it was supposed to keep those things, and other things, at bay.
So what did she do? She began her search. Rae wandered for some time until her toe bumped into something odd. She paused for a moment, stooping down to retrieve it.
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.
Rae felt sick; something pulling at her stomach, turning her world upsidedown.
The waves had caught the boat that she and the other students were on. An Amityville field trip gone wrong (weren’t they all?). Aldara felt sick; frightened and afraid. It was an odd feeling for one who was so used to the sea. What had she forgotten that had turned her in to this?
The boat was going down. It was sinking. It was...
She was scrambling to the deck. She could hear shouting; someone telling her that it wasn’t a good idea to be up there, that it wasn’t safe. Her hands came up, claws raking through her hair and then... A wave; large, imposing... Crashing...
Aldara shrieked.
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.
