He mused, blinking his eyes in a almost dream-like state tried to take over him. He vaguely remembered something, running away? No that cant be right, why would he be running from something.
There was nothing to fear in this place, not really.
The bad part about sleeping all the time, as lazy as he was, was there were bound to be a nightmare or two.
It started off normal. Surrounded by a pile of his favorite foods... namely? Sugary confections. Only the food suddenly turned rotten, and a sign was tacked into the ground signaling a 'sugar shortage'.
Shifting around in his sleep a foot was kicked out, as he spiraled down into a lump of some of his worst fears. The flick of a set of purple tentacles, and a screech though his mind as he ran away down a misted trail. Side to side he looked, leering and wondering what he was running from again exactly... to the side a flash of a black tail and a flicking of ears, a familiar scream as the sound of something like a net launcher hit its target.
As he started in that direction, there was another flash of color. This time yellow, and a flower left behind. The same launching sound followed by a higher pitched shriek.
All around him familiar voices, familiar indicators. All being taken away just out of his clawed grasp.
And there was nothing he could do.
A jolt and he was awake, staring up at his bedroom ceiling. A familiar scene, he himself wondering if it was time to roll over and drift back into his slumber world.
Only that was impossible, because he couldn't seem to muster the strength to move. That was odd. Remi struggled some, finding even his tails unable to flick back and forth as they were trapped under him. Even breathing hurt, a mild wheeze his only ability to catch a breath. What was going on?
"Stay, you belong here."
No, no he belonged out there, not here. Here was nothing more than a cage, a confinement. He needed his freedom not a leesh. He was no domesticated animal, he was somehting meant to roam the forests. Not forests of rainbow dirt and talking trees, but the forests beneath the pumpkin moon.
What was there to b afraid of, really? Even in his nightmare world, the only way to take care of what he was afraid of was to protect them himself. His own two hands were all he needed, he could stop the fear. He could stop the pain.
OOC
My character's username: AblooFox My character's level: 33 Character's HP: 30/30 Character's Job Class: Mad Hatter Herald Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: See: Side IMG Character journal:[ Battle Entry Log ]
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 8:30 am
The wind blew at his back and he let his wings stretch in the nice sulfur air. He wasn’t sure how he got there, but Danny was jabbering on happily pointing with her fake pirate hook as they sailed the Lava. It had to be his cousin’s idea, but as far as the crazy things she came up with, this wasn’t half bad. “Land Ahoy!” She pointed dramatically towards an island in the distance, and he nodded turning the rudder so they sailed towards it.
“Do you think it is the place where the treasure map leads?” he asked her. He looked down at the map.
“Oh there is sure to be treasure.” She swung around one of the ropes on their little ship grinning into his face.
“Don’t do that!” he whined and kept their coarse casting anchore close to land. They jumped onto the still steaming ground, a new fresh layer of lava having just cooled.
“So you think we will have to dig? It looks like it might have been covered.”
“That’s halt the fun!” Danny pulled a shovel from who knows where.
“Alright.” He said and read the map directing them. Danny dug it right up, using her beast like strength. It was a chest and when they opened it, it was full of treasure, gold and gems and all kinds of shinies. “Wow, a pirate really did bury this here.”
“I told you, I told you Rikki didn’t lie.” They hauled it back to their little lava fair ship and sailed back home.
My character's username: Haunting Lights My character's level:41 Character's HP: 40 Current party: Current Guild: Secrets Service- The Game Enders (SS:GE) Location: Small IC description of character: A cheshire cat that might be a little on fire.
"What have you done?....You are so horrible." A female voice said in a distance, only the silhouette was seen.
AJ paused and was being puzzled. What? "Look at your hands!" She cried with disgust. He slowly raised his hands and - found them covered in blood, a lot of blood. When he raised his head, the woman was gone. Instead, he felt something within his hand and a tug at his leg. "You murderer...." He panted but didn't let go. "You are so awful...." The demon loathed. "_______? Where's _____?" The demon waved his hand away. "You dare to ask! Look what have you done!" He hardly can raise his arm because of the severe injuries from his wings, which half was in his hand, and pointed to a corner. A bad omen was stopping him from walking towards it, but he needed the truth. "No! It can't be! It can't be....." A body was laying against the wall feebly, the red color of her clothes was tainted. "M____....no...please no." He gently put his shaking hands onto her cold pale face, her eyes were closed but the pain and tear strains remained. There was a big wound on her chest.... "You dug it out! When she tried to call you back! You evil...." He panted again. AJ looked at the demon in disbelief. "Don't look at me like that! It was you who did all this, not me!" He shouted. Me? I did all this? He scratched his hair and buried his head into his arms.
He checked again and the demon was gone, rather said becoming one of the many corpses on the ground. The floor was flooded with blood, accumulating from the bodies.
Oh yes.
He now remembered, he lost control and killed whoever near.
The beast inside was released and he was driven by the thirst of blood. He clawed into one's body and pulled out the heart, feeling the throbbing in his hand and squished it. With a wicked smile, he moved onto the next one and thrust his head against the wall, until it left with a lovely crimson painted flower, with the blood dripping down. He didn't bother to stop, he couldn't stop himself. He punched someone in stomach until they spit blood out. He longed for blood, more blood....and just more.
It was awful.
He hurt his loved one, which he worked to avoid until now.
All were vain.
He stood in the shallow pool of blood, and then knelt onto the ground, started punching the ground while the blood stained onto his clothes, white hair and spit onto his face.
It was forever. Just him alone. No one was left.
Far away, an echo was heard.
"I told you. You should never exist."
He was still standing there, in a pool of blood surrounded by many unknown corpses. He could still remember how warm it was when his hand was inside the fleshes, he could remember how lively the throbbing heart was, it was a sign of life, so vivid. Yet, he destroyed it heartlessly, as if he was a killing machine. He was like received the order to kill everyone near, until he was the only one remained. There was no other sounds, his world was silent and alone. No one else, just him and a lot of blood forming into a pool.
He feebly lain on the ground, letting himself soaked in blood. All he could see was red, all he could smell was the aroma of blood. He knew he shouldn't but he was overwhelmed by a frenzy of delight. His friend were all gone. His long white hair was tinted by blood, as if it was thirsty for blood and absorbing it.
In this world made of purely blood, he put his arm over his eyes. "Haha how miserable I am." Transparent liquid running down from his face but he was laughing insanely.
There was a heavy knock oh his head.
"How long are you gonna sleep?! Wake up, now!" A female voice said in anger. "How dare you sleep when I am teaching you proper gentleman manner?" He was then being slapped left and right until he opened his eyes.
"Finally huh?" The female mocked. "Are you ready for your punishment, boil?" He felt his stomach got a heavy punch and had to curl up. She then stood up with her back facing him. "You're gonna have a tough day in your training lesson."
"Am I dreaming?" He asked gingerly, not sure what was happening. However, there was another heavy knock on the back of his head and he fainted. "You. have. been. daydreaming. in. my. lesson." He heard how furious the voice was.
He felt he was being dragged by leg, but thanks Jack, it was just a nightmare.
OOC
My character's username: Snakebyte My character's level: 36 Character's HP: 30 Current party: - Current Guild: - Location: Small IC description of character:
Light tanned, with a two pair of crimoson eyes and some scales on his forehead. He got a silky silver hair tinged with red at the end, tied in a ponytail. The boil was wearing a standard Mad Hatter attire in red, noted that he got a sentiment tail partner as companion. He is always seen smiling.
After monsters and running and waking, only to be sucked back down into into the darkness, IBB felt herself become hollowed out. Nothing more or less than a puppet.
At least until she reached out and felt that strange, card reaching back. Part of her wanted to simply keep walking, keep being a good little puppet. But a voice stopped her. Her voice!
C'mon, little bat. Remember! You can do this. You have to remember. Everything, good and bad. Wake the hell up and remember!
As if the words were a key that unlocked the door shutting those memories away, something in IBB's mind clicked and at first the memories trickled out sluggishly. But with every moment that passed, they gained speed and strength until she was nearly drowning in them. The Jabberwock, getting turned into a Hare, the Cheshire cats, everything.
And swooping in behind it all, the terrible nightmare she'd had right before falling down the rabbit hole...
Falling. I'm falling! Gwenyfarh screamed as she desperately tried to force her wings to cooperate. Below her, stark greyish brown rock spires waited to impale her if she couldn't manage to lift up and glide away. For one moment, it seemed like she'd be able to catch an updraft. Be able to fly away and leave this awful, grey starkness behind.
Only to have the wind that was normally her friend turn against her as it howled and battered against her tiny, frail body and delicate wing membranes. She couldn't fly and the wind was driving her to earth.
A different scream joined the wind's as she felt the wind shear away her precious wings.
She was going to die. Whether through blood loss, impact or impalement, she would die. All because she hadn't been able to stop falling...
No. It was a feeling more than a voice that boomed out around her. Though how a feeling could have that deep, bell-like sound she wasn't sure. On the heels of the feeling came a soft, warm, golden wind that swept her gently up and wrapped itself around her torn and shredded wings.
This is not how this ends, little bat.
Threads of golden warmth worked their way through her wings, fusing the torn bits back together, in some places growing new membrane entirely and strengthening the muscles throughout. Gwenyfarh began laughing as the gentle breeze held her up while healing her. Below, the dead grey earth and rock began to sparkle and glow as little bits of color broke through like wildflowers on steroids.
At that point, that breeze released her, rippling through her hair as her wings swept down, catching and cupping the air around her. Her arms should have been tired, but they continued to beat up and down, delighting in how the air felt as it moved around the wing membranes. Below, the earth had burst into colorful life. Rocks were hidden under the soft greens of moss and flowers that spanned every color imaginable. And above, the sun broke through the thick, grey clouds to shine down on everything, it's gentle heat almost like a kiss on her exposed skin.
Fly far, little bat. Fly far.
The golden breeze seemed to fade, but that was all right. Gwenyfarh had the sun and the wind and the flowers and earth below. She wasn't falling anymore and here, in the air, she was a forced to be reckoned with. Whooping gleefully, she pumped her wings and shot straight up into the air before contorting her body and cupping her wings to do a series of loop the loops. She was a sky-dancer and nothing would ever take this away from her again.
MY STATS
My character's username: IttyBittyBatty My character's level: 30 Character's HP: 40/40 Character's Job Class: Insane Mad Hatter Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: Small IC description of character: 2'8" bat girl with fluffy, white hair, silver eyes, nut-brown skin and a slightly upturned nose. Dressed in default, earth tone Mad Hatter outfit with just a hint of wing membrane peeking out from under the sleeves. Character journal:Bam!
00zingTea let her body do the work. Thinking was hard, and she couldn't form any sort of memory. She didn't know who she was. Her hand reached out for the cards as her mind was quite, numb. A voice, soft, but commanding, a voice she knows somehow, wants her to remember.
She clutches the card as slowly ripples ignite her mind, her memories. Bits and pieces at a time, but still there is confusion. Finally it hits her, that nightmare, the start of everything.
It was one of those dreams where you have a hard time telling if it is real or not. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Sucre got out of bed and stepped over the clothes she had worn yesterday that were strewn across the mess that was her floor. She continued her usual routine, except something grabbed her attention from the corner of her eye. Just a little drip, her sugared goo was a little loose then. She glanced behind her. Her eyes followed the slime trail from her bed. A lot. She was dripping a lot.
Sucre reached into a bowl on her dresser and popped a couple sugar bones into her mouth to help her complexion and continued about her way. Her slimey body worked instantly dissolving the sugar. She slid a dress over head only to have it get stuck. She was dripping and it was soaking through. Sucre let the dress hang awkwardly around her neck. Her face fell. Literally, it fell.
"No no no no" she said, desperately crushing sugar cubes into her hands and rubbing them on her slipping features. Why wasn't the sugar working. The dread that fell over her only grew as Sucre continued to puddle, unable to reform, unable to form her face.....
Then it got worse then being nothing, she started to be nothing in front of others. Her friends, her not so friends, everyone. Loosing her body on repeat.
She was here and then not, whole then in pieces. Half of her with her friend, half of her sleeping. Piles of goo everywhere she went, in everything she did.
She was so lost that she didn't initially feel the hands on her, scooping up her running goo. Once she felt the warmth she was aware of the many many hands that gently, slowly rebuilt her. Kind hands, rough hands. Some were gentle, accompanied with loving words, and some were quick to move away, but all of them warm. She wasn't so alone. She wasn't free form, being pulled this way and that, loosing herself between people and things. She was just herself.
She found herself slowly becoming whole. "You aren't as lost and floundering as you think you are..." Her Mother said, appearing in front of her, a cake in her arms. The biggest and grandest she had ever seen, tier upon tier and sugary layer on sugary layer. Suddenly her friends were there, each with an eagerness to speak with her, to be with her. She was loved and needed all along, she wasn't going to melt into nothingness, not with her family and friends around. Not ever.
OOC
My character's username: 00zingTea My character's level: 35 Character's HP: 40 Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: White castle Small IC description of character: 00zingTea is a colorful sparkling slime-girl. She is predominantly pink with a sort of light prism effect in her hair. Character journal:BATTLE ENTRY LOG
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 11:22 am
NIGHTMARE
She was drowning.
Something that should've been impossible became reality. The water clutched her neck, pressing against it roughly, sliding into her lungs, her stomach, her everything— she couldn't breathe. The water slid in her nose, parting ways going upwards and sliding down, to her air pipe. She was stuck in suspended motion, body floating in the water, falling limp from the rough current that was pulling her. Her eyes were wide and open, watching everything that happened. Her arms went weak, jaw lax and open, but her eyes— her eyes never shut. Why... . Why wouldn't they close? She drifted downward through the suddenly slow water, mouth agape, tiny blue lips making her look like a corpse. Landing gently on the sandy floor, the body stayed there, half dead, half alive, stuck between two worlds— the dead... And the living.
She didn't know which world she was scared of the most. So her mind defaulted to a comfortable one in between. And that... was drowning. And never... ever... dying. Just staying there, in a suspended state, unable to move, waiting for the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months to pass... And never be found.
Drowning. How ironic?
OCTO stayed still, wondering, just how— how could she manage to get herself out of this one? No one who cared would help. Not even her family. She knew it. She was horrible. Her jaw slacked, eyes drooping, though still fully opened. She only depended on herself, after all. She wasn't worth the help. Her eyes stayed open, blurred from the water. She couldn't see any longer. Couldn't move...
A vision danced across her eyes. OCTO tried to move to see it, to follow it, but she couldn't even move her eyes now, she was dead, idiot. So when the vision danced in front of her again, OCTO made sure to watch. Is that...? Oh god. It was her sister, her sister, though she hadn't noticed her. Her youngest sister couldn't see her like this! She desperately wanted to tell her to run away, not to look, but she couldn't move, not a muscle, not an inch. Even her tongue was lolling out... She couldn't have her be mentally scared.
Suddenly the little girl with the multiple legs stopped. She turned to look at her, her large, orange eyes seemingly glowing. From behind her, in the fog, her family appeared. All of them just stared at her, but not in disbelief— not in disappointment. With... Was that... Pride? Her heart soared. "Breathe," Her sister whispered, eyes soft. But, I can't. I'm dead. OCTO responded, not moving. "It's 'cause you're not trying."Not...trying? But... She couldn't breathe. She wasn't...? She...
Suddenly, OCTO let go of her held breath. What...? She blinked, and moved her jaw a little. Her head tilted slightly, and her legs— all EIGHT of them, flexed and moved. She— WHAT?!? She was... Always able to move. She had always been alive.
She just hadn't tried hard enough to live.
But now that she did... She was free. Her family vanished. OCTO swam up, up, up, to the surface, giddy, excited for what was next.
Everything faded to a white.
MY STATS
My character's username: OCTOPU55Y My character's level: 36 +50exp Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Doormouse Doctor. Current party: N/A Current Guild: Raiders of the Lost Ark Location: ??? Small IC description of character: A dark-grey skinned female with scales and bright neon marks littered all over her body. She has bold purple hair pulled into a side ponytail, and purple eyes to match, with her sclera completely black. With fins replacing her ears as well as webbing trailing from one finger to the other, this girl looks aquatic. Character journal:ALL DA PU55Y
Trisha was running, it was a good run. Charging through the forest and her family was there. They came out and there was a giant picnic with all her friends. Aki was eating some cotton candy and she walked over, pitting on her pin so she could sit down with him. “Are you having fun?”
He nodded with vigor.
She smiled and patted his head and then spotted Mayaa running to tackle her into a giant hug. “Maaaaayaaaaaa!”
“Triiiiiiiishaaaaaa” came the reply as the ghoul climbed up and all over her before settling on one of her shoulders. She took off again shifting to natural from so they could prance about the fields, running around her parents as Mayaa let her wings fly out, as if they were flying together.
And then she spotted Andrew. She ran up behind him as he was playing cards with another ghoul, was that Olivia? At the table. “Booo!” she chirped behind him, Mayaa still clinging like crazy to her horns.
“ack! Go away Trisha.”
“Come play.” She grinned at him eyes begging. Finally he sighed and climbed aboard reaching a hand down to help the ghoul up. They raced back to pick up Aki and then found Mellow in pony form. they raced across the fields together laughing until she decided to roll and everyone fell off. And then it was just a mess of rolling limbs and laughter and ticking somehow got involved until everyone was just exhausted.
“I love you guys.” She smiled at all her friends and just curled up for a nap in the grass.
My character's username: Chocolate Hooves My character's level: 26 Character's HP: 30 Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: A dormouse with hooves and flowers.
He was standing in a sea of darkness, but within a three foot radius he could see, like he was in a spotlight without the glare. He wanted to leave. There was no concrete answer to the reason why, and he desperately, desperately, wanted to leave, bolt, right out the darkness. But something told him that now was not the time. That happened later. He stood there silent, not moving an inch.
The ticking was getting louder.
I'm getting a new clock.
A figure walked out of the darkness ahead, so close that Ryou jumped back with a yelp, almost tripping himself. His muscles tensed. There was something different about her. She was bleeding profusely from a wound on her side. She examined it for a few moments as if she had just noticed that it was there before looking back at Ryou, smiling sadly.
The ticking was getting so loud that he could feel it pounding inside his eardrums.
"Hi little brother. Aren't you going to run?"
And then he ran to get away from the ticking, the sight of a dying sister who was much greater than he and couldn't, wouldn't die because that would be stupid. But the ticking was getting louder and he couldn't think. There was fear in the darkness and it was swallowing him whole and he ran.
The world fell away from beneath him and he was falling and falling into a black sunrise.
He was back in the sea of darkness with the clock's ticking.
He waited.
There was no particular reason why he was waiting or what he was waiting for, he simply knew that something in him was telling him to wait right there because something was going to happen. And that that something was good, something worth waiting for.
The clock continued to tick in a constant rhythm quietly.
Ryou stared out into the inky darkness. There didn't seem to be anything frightening about it this time. It was just dark. Sure, there might be things out there that he couldn't see --sentient teacups, talking trees, corrupted cheshires--- but that was okay. They would not come. He was safe here. Plus, he felt that wherever he was, it was empty, at least for now.
He sat himself down in his little pool of light and waited. There was no real rush. Whatever was coming was coming.
The clock continued to tick.
A figure approached from behind the veil of darkness. She had no wounds this time. She was smiling the same way as she always did.
"Hi little brother. How are you?"
He grinned from his seat on the ground. "I'm good...never been better." She grinned back and sat herself next to him. They both looked out into the darkness.
It was a nice silence. Neither of them felt the need to say anything. They simply sat and gazed at the world around them.
The clock continued ticking.
The silence stretched. The two siblings continued to sit in the little patch of light in a world of darkness. There was nothing in particular running through Jabber's mind. He was at rest, peaceful. There was nothing to fear, nothing to run away from.
The clock stopped its ticking.
The world started falling slowly away from beneath them, but he felt no alarm.
He let himself fall.
As the darkness embraced him, he heard a soft screech in the inky blackness. The wind-up bird had come and winded the world's spring once more.
MY STATS
My character's username: JabberWhut My character's level: 59 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Cheshire Cat Current party: n/a Current Guild: n/a Location: Mad Tea Party Small IC description of character: Standard cheshire cat uniform with blue scarf and a black coat. Has fluffy black hair and cat ears and forked cat tail. Bright green eyes. Character journal:Here
Lady in the Golden Wood
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Cheekiebirdiee
Mysterious Kitten
Offline
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 12:41 pm
One minute she was awake in her dorm, in her warm safe bed, the next she was being dragged back into darkness. On a gasp she tried to scream but the sound of a voice telling her she belonged cut everything short. Shaking her head in protest Lute tried to summon the courage for a no, no she didn't belong here, she belonged back in her room. . not lost to unnerving darkness.
On a burst of courage her eyes snapped open, reality hitting before the corners of rosy orbs darkened yet again. It was painful and she couldn't resist being lost yet again. Falling, the sensation of was overwhelming, so much that she held her breath for impact. Her fingers curling tightly into her palms as her body hit whatever surface was mask by the dark.
And then nothing. She felt nothing, remembered nothing ...was nothing.
Wandering as nothing would she reached a block, two cards present and without the thoughts she didn't have reached for one upon pure instinct. Touching it as 'she' called to herself. "Remember." Moments after her own coaxing Lute got the gut wrenching feeling, the same she got from the lake, as her memories unfurled before her eyes. Snips of the past and present, the words her father told her before she left for the academy, her mothers favorite drink. Bits and pieces rushed by at a frantic pace before her weeping eyes were met with something she would have liked to forgot all together.
Her nightmare, the nightmare.
the Nightmare
"Lu-Lu Bell" Lute turned in her bed, her hooves clicking together as her legs folded over her pillow. " Lu-Lu Bell won't you have more, go on, you love cake." Staring down at the pushed plate Lute brought up her sleeve, hiding a reluctant face. Cake was delicious but they had just ate three whole slices. She shouldn't eat more, momma said that if she ate more all of her teeth would rot out!
But.
"Lu-Lu Bell come on you want it right, its free right and it won't hurt you ...it's just cake." At the reassuring words from her father she picked up her fork and nodded happily. The cake was sweet and delicious but never ending for she couldn't stand to turn it down. It was free, it was good and it didn't hurt!
Devouring the endless supply Lute stilled in her bed, chewing on her pillow as her dream continued. Strawberry, chocolate and even cheesecake! Her eyes sparkled in the dream, smile wide until she caught the reflection of said smile in her fork. "MY TEEETH!" A shriek sounded as she fumbled to look in the shiny silver cup by her father. "FATHER MY TEETH ARE -" Lute's horror continued as another tooth dropped into the cup, clinking as it swirled the bottom.
As soon as she thought her horror was over and her vision faded to black she whimpered. Now getting petted hard under a hand that took all of her hair as it stroke. " Hnn- s--s" Pet's were good, they were free ...but....but...
It hurt. Father was wrong
She would have been there clutching her card and sobbing forever if not for one mysterious thing. Her nightmarish visions rippled, replaying only this time they were much sweeter.
" Lu-Lu Bell won't you have more, go on, you love cake." She smiled happily and pushed a golden fork into the plate presented to her. A huge hunk of the cake pulled on her fork to her lips. The strong strawberry scent filling her nostrils and curling her nose in a happy wrinkle. On a chomp she hummed happily and grinned around the golden utensil to her smiling father, he lifted his silver cup and chuckled sipping his tea as she took another bite.
The cake was delicious but more than cake she loved spending time with Papa. "I do love cake Papa...but you know what I like more than cake?" Her fathers head tilted for a curious shake of no, "cake fights!" On a cheerful giggle Lute picked handfuls of the never ending desserts and on a firm toss in her fathers direction began a long, loving food fight.
This cake was not a lie, but it was good ammunition..
They slipped on cake, fell into piles and at one point she even managed to smack Papa in the face with a huge strawberry slice. It stuck to his nose and he pretended to be wounded, falling over to lay in a mess of frosting. Giggling she pounced, drawing her mighty golden fork out and grinning down at her father before stealing the strawberry off his nose to eat. "I really do love cake hehe!" Falling over beside Papa all was well, his warm large hand even stroked a few clumps of frosting from her hair.
OOC
My character's username: Gabriel Santiago My character's level: 28 Character's HP: 40 Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Gabriel is a very pink , GIRL, doormouse doctor with hooves.
The heat assaulted Oliver, thick and sticky with moisture. The saurischian trotted along, unbothered by it's little passenger. it's warm, breathing body was soft under Oliver's hands. Feathers in orange and dusty gold hues shimmered in the light, as only feathers could. The soft glittering of those microscopic structures, the precursors to flight even, they were beautiful.
But Oliver knew what was to happen… The unsettling feeling came quicker as he re-lived his nightmare, the fog rolled in with the dark raptors. They didn't know yet. They didn't know he was so different, so small and fragile. They didn't see them, with their unblinking stare fixed forward and their pace steady and robotic. Neither did his own theropod see them for what they were. Those dark eyes, filled with dark shadows, the fear of opening your eyes at night and seeing nothing but blackness in front of you.
He tried to resist the fear welling up in his stomach, he knew what was about to happen.
They pressed in, and the fog slipping between their bodies turned black like their flesh was rotting the air itself. Then it happened. The dark, heavy head began to turn as it had once before. But this time it turned with teeth bared in a manic smile. Black lips drew back, those sharp, pale, terrible teeth grinning in promise. Oliver knew what they promised, and began to inch up to his dinosaur's neck. He wanted to kick it's sides, spur it forward so fast it would leave the deathly pack behind.
But it was not to be. The first teeth sinking into his theropod's flesh sent tendrils of rot deep into his dinosaur's body, the blood congealing and twisting and blackening as the grinning ghouls devoured their prey. Feathers turned black and fell out in sickly clumps, and then the flesh itself dropped away. Oliver climbed higher, and let out a sob as he wrapped his arms around his dinosaur's neck. He didn't want this to happen, it was all his fault, it wasn't the fate the creature carrying him deserved.
It had died all over again, it's disemboweled body falling apart with every step it took. It had been different too, they had been different together, and Oliver cried for the creature that had once lived. His feet slipped in the rot, his hands plunged through the decaying muscle and tendons as he struggled to hold on. He closed his eyes and sobbed, his forehead pressed against the cold, slippery neck right at the base of the creature's skull where there had once been a proud tuft of feathers. The teeth would get him soon too, and his flesh would rot away, and he would be broken… but it didn't matter anymore.
As he cried, clinging desperately for survival despite his despair, his body warmed the flesh under him. It began to drip away faster. The tendons on the rotted neck lost their shape and melted over his hands. The blood and tissue felt slick and warm against his forehead.
The others, they should have gotten him by now… Those grinning teeth should have torn into him, but they had not.
When Oliver opened his eyes, he was surprised to find his dinosaur was not becoming a dead, skeletal monster. Rather the black flesh and dark blood melted and dripped off of it like water. It slid off pale feathers, warmed by the sturdy, breathing body of the saurischian. He looked behind them, and saw the rot was not rot at all, it glittered, transparent and clean. It washed them both off, until there was no trace of the blackness that had tried to destroy them both.
His dinosaur… It was a pale likeness of it's former self, but radiantly so. The light gold and white feathers shone in the sun that was just breaking through the dark fog. It had died, but here it was, unharmed, proud and alive. The dark raptors around them no longer pressed so tight, and as the mist faded they were no longer the dark spectres they had once been. Their blackness dissipated like ash, blowing away on the wind and revealing warm reds and yellows, brilliant blues and violets. Each one came alive with the motions of life. They had been hiding themselves too.
Oliver sat down, straddling his dinosaur's neck. He wasn't afraid anymore.
MY STATS
My character's username: Trex2000 My character's level: 37 Character's HP: 30/30 Character's Job Class: Dormouse Doctor Current party: None Current Guild: None Location: Small IC description of character: Trex2000 is a mid-height teen with dark hair, light eyes, and freckles, wearing the default dormouse outfit. He looks very confident, but he can be shaken out of it easily. Character journal:Here
It was silence so absolute it was deafening, the lack of anything so complete it was almost a sound unto itself, imagined, an impending sound of pressure, of a dam ready to burst. But when it did, and the volume came rushing back, voices, the clatter of feet, he was still on mute, the sound of his voice choked, his screams vibrating on a separate frequency.
No one could hear him.
Nor could they see him, no matter how loud he shouted, no matter how frantically he waved his hands in their faces. They were the faces of people he loved, faces that he cared about, yet his fingers in their desperate reach sank right through their skin, disappearing from view like some phantom limb.
Like he didn’t exist.
The nightmare is always the same. He wakes up in a cold sweat, shivering because the room isn’t nearly enough to warm him from the cold emptiness of his nightmare, the beating of his heart not enough to shake off the feeling of lacking a pulse. The figure was frightening, and he ran from it but it was no comparison to his nightmare because he could run, he could run and shout and hear his fearful voice echoing against the walls of the corridor, hear the thudding of his feet against his floor.
Even the shearing of his entire being, as everything faded to black, was something, he was holding on. He could come back from this. So he woke, not in his room or his bed but in the cold pod room, the smaller one, tucked away and out of sight. It was different this time, there was no piercing gaze staring back at him, in fact, there was no one at all. Shiloh struggled to stand, willing himself not to fall back asleep, fall back into his nightmare that was exactly this but worse. He needed to get out of here, he thought in a panic. He need to get out and far away from here, needed to find Ian, find Maebe, find Quinn – he needed to find anyone.
But there was only a cold hand resting against his shoulder, pushing him back down until he closed his eyes in terror, until he was back in the corridor and it was there, waiting, assuring him his place was here before drowning him again in the darkness, back into his nightmare where his screams made no sound at all.
His nightmare where he was dead, again.
---
(mild gore warning for under spoiler! just in case)
But he’d beaten death once, or perhaps he’d never really been dead, only thought so because he was constrained to human logic, constrained to ideals of reason and practical implications, constrained to the idea that the afterlife couldn’t possibly be so horrible.
But in his nightmare, it was.
It was a series of events, Ian with a book and a bottle of whisky, both clattering to the floor as he refused to acknowledge the pages turning on their own, refused to acknowledge the ghostly fingers pushing them, refused to acknowledge the boyfriend whose pathetic sobs were utterly inaudible. He was scaring Ian, he was pushing Ian away but all he wanted was for him to hear him, to see him, to tell him it was okay.
It wasn’t.
Cue the intermission of darkness as the stage switched to someone’s room, familiar and comforting except it wasn’t, not as the mirror crashed to the ground, the glass breaking and distorting his message into a million little shards, its intended recipient upset and crying beneath the covers of her bed. He couldn’t comfort her, couldn’t touch her shoulder and say everything would be okay.
Again, it wasn’t.
Darkness, once more, and then everything turned orange, orange and glassy and cold, though admittedly it had been cold all along, all that was left after it all was cold and the feeling of unbearable sadness, of breaking hope. He was small and immobile, sat neatly on someone’s desk, the office empty even of her. She only cared for memories, after all, for good dreams; of course she wouldn’t be found in his nightmare, she wouldn’t help him here. Caelius, sitting at his desk and bent over paperwork, ignored him as he shouted or perhaps didn’t realize he was there at all, a simple orange paperweight of no consequence at all. At least, that was how it seemed as the man got up and swept the small glass orb into the trash as he passed his desk on the way to the door.
He plummeted down into the darkness until he was swathed in it, a part of it, until his glass edges finally found surface, shattering Shiloh, like the mirror, into a million little pieces.
It would be okay. He could put himself back together, he always did. This wouldn’t get the best of him, he thought, determined, as he picked up a shard and pressed it into his skin.
There was still hope.
The glass stayed where he placed it, rimmed in an outline of seeping red, and he added another and another, the pain of it sharp but it was pain and if he hurt, it meant he could feel it, it meant he was alive to feel it. He kept pressing the pieces in, lining the scars across his chest, across his stomach, because it was addictive, feeling alive, because he was alive. Each laceration against his skin was vindication, he would rise above the pain, he would rise against whatever was thrown at him. No axe could fell his spirit, no scythe his hope. He stood, shaky, bleeding and covered in shards of orange, but standing nonetheless. Behind him, something barked, the padding of feet echoing down the corridor, a wet nose nosing at his dripping hand and in that moment the nightmare was finally over – she didn’t exist in his nightmare, her voice as silent as his.
He smiled.
He wouldn’t give up. He refused. They refused.
Together, they would change the world.
OOC
My character's username: Shyduck My character's level: 29 Character's HP: 40/40 Current Guild: [Vicious Streak] Character journal:x
The darkness ebbed at her soul, filling her blank mind, blacking out her sight, snuffing her hearing.
She was alone, after living her nightmares. They had finally gotten her, making her live in nothing but pitch black.
No sound.
No sight.
No speech.
Nothing but darkness, everywhere, except for the floating light that was bobbing nearer to her.
Wait. A light? A light!! Reaching for it, she used what little strength she had left and grasped the red card gently, feeling it pull her back into the nightmare.
Through the Rabbit Hole
Invisible hands clawed at her, pulling at her skin and making her feel as if the skin was going to come right off of her. She tried to scream but all that escaped was silence, her eyes wide with terror. She tried to pull away, but every time she did she felt more claws searching for her, threatening to take away her very soul. Threatening to frighten her, to make her heart stop in fear.
Just like her parents.
Radley didn't know how long she would last, but it felt like an eternity, and she was unable to break away. How long? Her soul was lost. She wouldn't be able to last...
This time, however... it didn't feel as dark.
The invisible claws seemed to shrink away from the light that shone above, and she found her skin glowing with a kind of light.
A light that healed.
Spiderluck may have been alone, but she could defend herself, now. Any wounds that she'd had... disappeared. Her skin was flawless, the scratches and scabs disappearing and healing from the light that flowed through her body.
The mental scars were the only thing that remained, but with time... she could heal those, as well. Not everything could be healed instantly, but Spiderluck knew that she had a tool that could be used to help not only herself, but others as well.
The shadows fled from her form as she walked, the light pouring from her and eliminating any darkness that caught her eye.
She was the healer, and she would heal.
And she would also punch things to heal them.
With a sly grin, Spiderluck had to admit to herself that this was far more than satisfactory. This was almost perfect.
She could deal with this.
MY STATS
My character's username: Spiderluck My character's level: 33 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Dormouse Doctor Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Before you stands an average-sized Dormouse, wearing a white coat with pink accents. Pink and purple garb is worn underneath, and this character looks at you cheerfully, idly scratching an ear. Character journal:Journalstuffs
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 3:13 pm
She’d gone wandering too far again.
-SLAM-
Her heart jumped and she turned to look at the door behind her. Nonononononono
bro…ken…
She bolted down the corridor, phasing in and out of view, willing her claws into existence in case it found her. Jack what would happen if it found her? No that couldn’t happen. She wasn’t ready for the end. She wasn’t ready to realize that the double in the glass case was the real her and she was just a figment—
A figment—
A figment of someone’s imagination.
She glanced behind her, claws extended, claws at the ready. Nothing was there. The corridor was empty, no tapping, no sound, no shadows, no —
Phymi gasped, the breath leaving her as the eyes materialized in front of her, in her way, with shears, looking at her like she was some sort of—
Snip.
Hamika gasped, eyes wide and staring at her ceiling. She panted, feeling the way the stale air of her room moved through her lungs. She felt for her limbs, felt for her knees, and almost let out a breath of relief. She was awake. Really awake. She tried to run her hand over her face and get out of bed to get some fresher air.
She couldn’t move.
Nonononononono…
She couldn’t move. No. She had to move she had to. She wasn’t a corpse, she was a zombie. She wasn’t dead she was she was she was—— calmer. Maybe it was just left over from being asleep so long… Yes that had to be it. She started to close her eyes.
NO! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!
She blinked for a moment and found herself in the corridor again. A voice whispered in her ear, soft and inviting, and underlying with malice and something far more evil than FEAR.
“You belong here Hamika…”
NO. NO. LEAVE ME ALON— Eyes flashed open, panic in her heart and then suddenly she was back into it. She wasn’t strong enough. She wasn’t strong enough in her waking life. Maybe the voice was right…
She was nothing, she was everything, she was power and she was weakness.
Phymi sunk into the darkness, letting it consume her, letting it overtake her. If this was how she went out… then this was it. She would have no glory. She would fight no monsters.
No one would remember her…
…remember…. who….
THUNK
She stood up and walked on lost.
An undetermined number of steps later, she came to a road block. Not that it mattered, to be fair. She wasn’t anything but an animated puppet. She glanced up.
Floating cards.
She reached for one.
Remember… remember…
Remember what…
Something kick started in her mind and eye went wide as snippets of who she was, what she was, everything came back to her.
Quote:
It was dark, muggy, and smelled liked something had died.
Oh wait.
She'd forgotten to open the window again to vent her room.
The zombie ghoul swung out of her bed, making to stand up to go open the window. Instead, she crumpled to the floor with a shriek of shock. Hamika blinked, looking down at her legs, which stopped right above her knees.
Wait what.
The ghoul sat and thought about it for a few minutes. No... she hadn't left them somewhere this time... Where did they go? She hoisted herself up to peer over the bad and found them, in the position she'd been sleeping in.
Her eyes went wide.
There were no knees.
They didn't exist. They were missing. She grabbed a leg and fell back down, trying to find within it where the knee had gone.
No, no there couldn't be any knees! There were always knees unless you were a ghost and even then you had knees! Why weren't there any knees?!
Someone opened the door, trying to figure out what was wrong, and all Hamika saw was the space where the boil's knees should have been.
She screamed and wished she could wake up. It was just a dream, it was just a dream.
Wasn't it...?
“Hami… for the love of Jack, stop trying to eat your own knees!” she blinked and looked up at the zombie above her. He chuckled and sank down to her level, musing her hair. She tilted her head, slobber everywhere. “Hamika, dear, if you eat your own knees you’ll never get anywhere! But if you slobber other people’s knees you’ll be fine.”
She smiled at him, giving a big kiss to his knee. It wasn’t the fact she loved knees and eating them. No. She did it because this stranger, who had clothed her, had found her even, took it upon himself to care for her. ‘Love’ was not something Hamika really understood, but the warmth feeling in her chest she got when around him made her feel nice.
“Sorry Poppa! I just can’t help it sometimes…” she said in reply. The fatherly zombie chuckled again.
“I know, and that’s okay. Just be mindful of your flesh. You only have so much before you’re bones,” he reminded her, helping her up.
It was never about knees.
It was about kindness, being given the time of day.
It was about mattering.
Hamika smiled and let out a sigh of happiness as everything faded from view.
MY STATS
My character's username: Phymi My character's level: 34 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Cheshire Cat Wraith Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: White Castle Small IC description of character: On the shorter side, wearing a brown and white cheshire coat, blue scarf, and a tail. Cat ears and tail are both brown as well. She's got orange hair and orange eyes, and both knees. Very important. She sort of loves cheshire grins these days. Character journal:Here
a-disgruntled-dragon
Offline
medigel
Anxious Spirit
Online
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 3:14 pm
What were more shadows to him at this point? He wasn't one for hiding in the darkness save to hunt--
The Nightmare
The pain was nothing. The derision, the caustic words, the blood, the brand, the banishment--nothing to him. No, height did not matter to him, even though he was weightless and falling into an endless abyss. Flight could save him; those with wings could never truly fall, after all.
He was invincible. He had been invincible.
He had been avaricious. He had been an imbecile.
An alliance that was too good to be true was just that: in the end, he was treated like the beast he always had been. An ambitious, blind, proud fool.
It was not the fall, not the wound, not the jeers, not the pain, not the shock of failure, not the realization that death would come swiftly that he noticed.
The only notable thing to him was betrayal, for it always came from someone you called a friend. Though that was not the word he would have used for her.
No, he supposed. It was something more unequivocal and harder to describe. Only lesser beings used the word "love" to try and match it. That was easy to engender and easier to break. Trust, however, was not. The bond that Clans made were forged through fire--or so help him, he burned and burned them and burned until it was tempered to withstand hellfire.
He was not easy to get along with most of the time. Maybe not even any time at all. But he was a living test of character in and of itself because there was nothing to be gained with weaklings who did not stand with you at your worst. War had taught him that the pragmatic approach was the only truth he needed to adhere to. Deserters, whiners--hell, anyone he didn't honestly know--were risks Shik did not feel like calculating for in every encounter, social or otherwise: the only math he ever pursued was divide and conquer.
But there were good things in this world. There were little things, little people, but they were degrees of gray in his otherwise rather dark world, a fact that he would never in his life reveal unless someone cut it out of him. He could see them below even now, pinpricks of life waiting at the bottom of the abyss.
He had not been falling at all. He had merely been flying to greet them.
They grew in number as he descended until they became a condensed sea of colorless bodies, winged, horned, cheering for his return. He sensed there had been disquiet, and as he touched down, she greeted him with an impatient look.
“They thought you were dead.” It was a verbal roll of the eyes if anything, though her posture changed subtly now that he had touched the ground, a slight movement in the wings only those brought up in War could truly pick up. Relief. “And you are messy. Should I have sent someone more competent to do the job?”
He smirked and wiped blood—someone else’s, he realized, not his own—off his face. “And miss out on the fun?” he retorted, licking his fingers clean. “Hardly. You wouldn’t believe me if I did not bring back proof of success anyway.” There had been others with him; several of his War-Brothers and Sisters landed and mingled with the army, equally coated and flashing grins at their comrades as they shared what happened.
Partway between exasperated and amused, she sighed, going with it as she rightly should. “The first round of guards are down, then. Are you prepared for the assault after that? If you are too tired, of course, you are free to let me command them,” she added with a cat-like curl of her lips.
“Now why would I let you have such a heavy responsibility to handle by yourself?” He smirked back, rolled his shoulders and turned, raising a fist to the roar of hundreds of willing warriors. “Death will not fall so easily, you know. If nothing else, I’ve proven to be very hard to kill.”
And the two of them together? Quite impossible.
OOC
My character's username: killsteal My character's level: 25 Character's HP: 40/40 Character's Job Class: Gryphon Current party: Current Guild: Cry Havoc Location: Small IC description of character: Tall tanned grizzled gryphon class dude with wild hair, clawlike hands and feet, a pair of curved horns, and a feral grin. Acts a bit more like an animal than a humanoid at points. Character journal:xxx
My character's username: IttyBittyBatty
My character's username: Gabriel Santiago 
