Ryan stirred, the bite of cold slowly waking from the dreamless sleep that he had somehow fallen into, how or when it happened was lost to him. He tried to concentrate on it, but the sudden buzzing was like a madness that ate at his mind, barring any attempts to concentrate.
"They did not tell you." The voice rang loud in his ear, making Ryan flinch and sway on his feet; consciousness threatening to leave him again. "I know their secret weapon. I will find it. Even if you do not know, it is a matter of eventuality. My knowledge increases. This is my awakening." The final word proved to be too much and he crashed to the ground again, as the blackness of unconsciousness took him. It was a brief silence, interrupted by strange, constant thumping noise, followed by a sharp pain, as something pierced his leg. Immediately his vision focused, zoning in on the source of the pain.
"The hell is--" His words were cut short as the vine began pulling and dragging him closer toward the network of vines. When struggling proved to be fruitless, he instead concentrated on his attacker and immediately regretted his decision and turned his face towards the floor. It was like the giant horse, any attempt to look on it, resulted in a dizzy feeling and nausea, with consciousness threatening to leave him again.
At this point the humming in his mind was steadily and in spite of his efforts, his consciousness was fading. Too weak to fight, he concentrated on the words that were repeated to him, revealing to him something greater.
OOC
Character's name: Ryan O'Conner Character's faction: Hunter ( Moon Division ) Character's journal link:View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERVisual Ref / x Ryan's HP: 58/60
Character's name: Rook Character's faction: University Character's journal link:View Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERVisual Ref Jersey Number: 25
Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 12:36 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO: WHITE DOOR ]
How long had he been alone? He wasn't sure, Time felt endless here and there was no way of telling time. No one had ever come to see him and so he was alone in the cage, in a never ending and crushing silence.
It was slowly driving him mad.
Finally after felt like an eternity of cold loneliness, a voice cut through the silence, calling to him and giving him offers of freedom.
Who was this? Rook had turned to face the source of the voice and had found a strangely familiar face. Did he know them? He got the sense they had met before, but no matter how he tried to re-call, all he could remember was the emptiness of the cage, and yet he couldn't shake the sense of familiarity he was getting from this man. They were somewhat sullen, but there was an unusual gentle kindness there as he offered him his hand.
At first Rook hesitated, unsure if this was merely another form of madness, made to build up his hope, only to break it down again and drive him further over the edge. A bitter thought, but at this point did it matter? He was already balancing dangerously on the edge of his sanity, the only difference now was would he fall now or later? At least in following this man, there was some form of hope.
His decision made, Rook gingerly took the man's hand and was led out of the cage and into the light.
As it turned out the world was bright and blinding, full of life and sights he had never dreamed of seeing. Long gone was the deafening silence that he feared would drive him mad, as the sounds of the world filled his ears. He was finally free. Released from that isolated prison and able to taste the freedom he had so strongly desired.
But in the end, as he had feared it all came crashing down.
His world was set ablaze and turned to ash, while hopes and dreams were brutally crushed. Anything that he had ever formed any sort of attachment to had been destroyed. He had been confused at first, unable to comprehend what was happening. But it slowly dawned on him. There was no room for anything else, his attention was now meant for his rescuer and only him. There was room for nothing else. The love and kindness that had once once been pure and bright, had quickly become a dark, cold, and twisted snare. He had been naive. In the end, happiness turned to regret, and love turned to fear. He had merely been taken out of one cage and placed in another. One without bars, perhaps, but a cage all the same. One just as isolated, but far more terrifying.
This was madness. He should have known that should he escape the cage, the madness would follow. But never did he imagine it would take form in the one that had freed him. It hurt to realize it. But he had caused this, and that realization hurt as though someone had tore his heart from his chest and crushed it.
He could stay... But the man would descend deeper into madness, and while there was a chance he could bear it and remain, could he really watch the one that had been so kind and loving, twist and break under that insanity?
No. The answer was clear.
Though it broke a part of him, Rook disappeared from their side, knowing full well that the madness would leave the man and follow.
OOC
Character's name: Rook Character's faction: University Character's journal link:View Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERVisual Ref Jersey Number: 25
OnionGrump
Mewling Trash
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OnionGrump
Mewling Trash
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Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 12:38 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO: RED DOOR ]
Blood. His hands were covered in it.
It was a strange and unsettling feeling. He didn't want this. To take a life--and act as a god, was something beyond him and yet the mortals continued to beg him, looking to him with such need. Did he really have the right to deny them?
Perhaps that's were it all began to go wrong...
He had refused them. After all, he never wanted to harm or kill any living soul. To rule over life and death, it was not a role he was meant to take and yet the mortals still begged him. They desired an end to the madness. They wanted death. For having ignored such a plea, darkness was born in their hearts. A darkness he knew would only grow and consume. The mortals would eventually fall to that darkness and commit unspeakable acts upon each other. There was no avoiding it now, he understood that.
The first kill was quick and precise, their lifeblood washing over him in a splash of red. It was a strange. He imagined it would be more difficult. But it was surprisingly easy. Were humans truly this fragile? A smile twitched at his lip and soon the first was soon followed by the second, and then third, until eventually they all just sort of blurred together. By the time he was finished, the ground was stained with blood; thousands had been slain, leaving the rest divided.
Strife was born that day. He had finally answered their pleas. He had become their god they had so desired. One born of chaos and madness. There was no stopping it now. They needed an end and he would give it to them in the form of war and destruction. He would tear their world down, along with anyone that got in his way.
OOC
Character's name: Rook Character's faction: University Character's journal link:View Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERVisual Ref Jersey Number: 25
Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 12:49 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO: BLUE DOOR ]
Mike was dreaming this time. He saw things from his past. He saw family and friends and also people he used to work with. He saw people in his shop. He saw alot of things happening some thing for real and some thing in movies and books he had read. He laughed at all the good times and didn't like all the bad things he also remembered. He saw people angry at him but also people who liked him and were friendly. He saw things he wished he never did and things he was really proud of.
He knew he was lucky with all he had and now he saw himself losing everything. The madness started and things were unsave now. What he ones had was now gone. Memories he didn't like at all. His memories and the dreams they splitted. They became several different thing and finally all door. He now saw doors everywere and he decided to open one of the 3 doors nearby. He didn't like the white door and didn't trust the black door so he opened the blue door.
He was swept away and now saw a world he really liked. He saw things that he wanted to happen. He created it as he was this worlds god. He was a god! He loved to see all that was going on but that changed as the world he had created was starting to fight itself. He tried to help those who needed it and those he really wanted to protect but things got really crazy. He had to watch it continue. Was he really trying to do the right things and protecting the right people? He saw things he agreed with but that also came with things he didn't like and the other way around. Everything didn't seem to make sense and there wasn't much for him to do. He wanted to do something but it didn't seem to work.
He started to grow conflicted himself wanting to do things that conflicted also. He wanted to do things but doing so would only make things better for some. For others it would not work out at all. What was he going to do. There wasn't even one thing that would be good for all parties. Not good for his whole creation. His heart was slowly growing numb. Had he made the right decisions for his world? Had he made anything better or had he only made things worse? His heart had turned totally numb now. The only thing he could do was letting it all happen on the world he created and hope for better. He watched everything happen and hoped. Hoped really hard that everything would turn out fine in the end.
RESCUER OOC
[ Current HP]: 30/30 Character's name: Sheelah Katz Character's faction: Monster Suspecies/Division: WereCheetah Character's journal link:Journal BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER She is a young looking girl with fur all over her. She has small claws and a Cheetah Pattern on her. She wears earth colored clothes. Humans will see a very large Cheetah with big sharp claws and teeth.
VICTIM OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 35/100 [ Current HP]: 50/50 Character's name: Mike Smithson Character's faction: 4 - The Mall Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: #99 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER He is average in appearance in build, length and posture. He has brown short hair, a white rather pale skin color and blueish/grey eyes. He wears black jeans and a white/light blue long sleeve shirt with buttons.
Morning_stars
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Beejoux
Wrathful Demigod
Offline
Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 12:53 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO - WHITE DOOR ]
He didn't know where the melody had come from. The memory of the source was long gone, but the melody, that remained. Twisted now, not quite the same as it once was, but it was all he had in this life. A single joy in a vast expanse of nothingness. It's all he has left, so he hums it, soft and wavering, over and over as he sits with his back against a wall, arms wrapped around his legs and face against his knees. There is nothing to see, nothing to do in this awful reality but sit and wait, though for what, he doesn't know.
This is how it's been, for as long as Liam can remember. He's alone, he's always been alone, he will always be alone.
"Liam?" He doesn't react, not at first. It's not real. "Liam, what are you doing here? Come on, it's almost time for roll call." Frowning, he lifts his head to look up at the woman standing in front of him, her hand outstretched for his. "You don't want to be late. Come on."
He reaches for the hand, but it's not Corey that pulls him to his feet. It's Caroline, and as he lets go her hands are there to cradle his face. "We almost lost you, didn't we? You have to be careful." he blinks dolefully at her, then a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips as he reaches up to lay his hands over hers. Warm, so warm. "I don't know what I would have done--you can't do that to me, alright?"
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, head turning into her touch, savoring the heat in her palms with eyes, because it's been so long. Longer than he can remember since anyone has talked to him, let alone touched him.
One hand slides away, but he feels fingers in his hair, ruffling it before a familiar laugh startles him. Dark skin and a dusting of freckles meet him as he opens his eyes again. "We've all got to stick together, so no more wondering off alone." Heat rises to his cheeks as she leans in to lay a soft kiss on one, and he smiles, nodding.
Harper steps back, turning with a smile to lead the way back to the dorms, and instead it's Charlie leading him, in his alicorn hoody, tail swaying with every step. He's laughing, glancing back now and then to make sure Liam is still with him, and when it doesn't seem like he's moving fast enough he pauses, throwing an arm around the short man's shoulders to keep him close.
Only now it's Rook, and and he's poking Liam in the chest before pointing down to the soccer ball rolling in front of them, tapping it with his toe to keep it moving, then flipping it up to bouncing it on his knee in a pass to Liam. He breaks away, laughing as he bops it with his head, but before he could do anything else with it hands grabbed it from the air.
"going to be late if you don't hurry." It's all condescension and cool, and Liam stops, looking from the ball in doctor's hands and up to meet Harvard's eyes. The older man smiled, and it was a mingled mix, cold and amused, careless and just a touch concerned. Enough to be puzzling, to have Liam falling into step beside him as the doctor turned and started leading him off again.
When a hand reached over to curl a finger into his belt loop, tugging him closer, it was startling, but it wasn't Harvard beside him anymore. Austin grinned down at him, pulled him around as she threw the soccer ball over his shoulder. Away. Liam watched it bounce away, frowning, before his back hit a wall, hands now settled firmly on his hips. "Where are you going?"
"Roll call." It's breathless, his throat dry. "We have to go, or they'll count us as lost." No one wanted him lost. They wanted him to stay, he was a part of the faction, he was appreciated, he was important, he was-
"It can wait a few minutes. They know we're here." Body against body, Liam swallowed, head turning to look down the empty hall. They were late. "Stop worrying." Fingers on his face, digging into his jaw, turn him back around, stole back his attention and held onto it, greedy and demanding.
"Austin..." It's cut off by a kiss, and for just a moment everything fades, like it always had before. He melts into it, fingers slipping under layered sweaters, lost.
You're late.
Fingers tense, drawing back.
You'll lose everything.
His lips go slack, not kissing back now, but Austin is demanding.
You'll die without them
He pulls back, breaking the kiss, breathless. "No. We can't. We have to go."
A laugh, the tightening of a hand at his hip, pulling him in again, and Liam lays hands on Austin's shoulders and shoves.
Breaking away, he runs. Down the hall, towards the voices, into the darkness.
OOC
Name: Liam Johnson Faction: University Rank: Sophmore Character Status: Minor to moderate wounds covering his back, arms, and legs. Moves stiffly. Character's journal link:Here
Mike was suddenly back at the place with all the doors again. He was still sort of remembered what had happened in the dream before but that didn't seem too important now. Or was it? He saw 3 doors close to him and felt he had to pick one of the doors to open. The gold door looked good but he felt opening that one would somehow make him feel greedy as if gold and maybe money was important to him and it wasn't. He did not trust the red door which he found to be blood colored so he opened the violet door.
He was again swept in and he saw memories again. He learned that he was created as a guardian. Someone to look over the the world and guide and aid the ones who needed it. He was created to help people in need. He wasn't told what was right or wrong but he could decide on that himself. He was perfectly able to see what was a good thing and a bad thing. He knew it was a good thing to do what he was created for and that was offering help. He aided everyone who came to him not thinking of if what he did was actually good. Was he doing the right thing and not helping bad people? He was doing what he was supposed to do so he did good. He was pretty sure of it. He helped everyone!
He started to manipulate people and things to make it all go his way. It was his way of defense and of helping people. At least how he though he was helping people as he wasn't always sure what they wanted. He manipulated people making it feel he helped them. They didn't really know what they wanted but they seemed to want everything. All the people he met wanted everything from him and that's what he gave them everything and more. His own family and friends started to hate him and soon everyone around him started to feel the same. He was doing what he could but people started to hate him more and more. His own family hated him the most. They didn't understand why he was doing what he was doing.
He was now in a place where everyone just hated him and he didn't even now why. His own family betrayed him in the end after all he did for them. He really couldn't understand. Why would anyone do this to him and why his own family? When he finally died after feeling hated day after day he couldn't find out why he got hated so much.
He had died not understanding the hate but knowing he had done what he could to help and he felt it that was good. Even if noone understood. They kept hating him but now he was gone.
RESCUER OOC
[ Current HP]: 30/30 Character's name: Sheelah Katz Character's faction: Monster Suspecies/Division: WereCheetah Character's journal link:Journal BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER She is a young looking girl with fur all over her. She has small claws and a Cheetah Pattern on her. She wears earth colored clothes. Humans will see a very large Cheetah with big sharp claws and teeth.
VICTIM OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 35/100 [ Current HP]: 50/50 Character's name: Mike Smithson Character's faction: 4 - The Mall Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: #99 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER He is average in appearance in build, length and posture. He has brown short hair, a white rather pale skin color and blueish/grey eyes. He wears black jeans and a white/light blue long sleeve shirt with buttons.
Morning_stars
Offline
chiickadee
Princess Hoarder
Offline
Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 1:32 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO: WHITE DOOR ]
Rajni dreamt of small things, not big ones. The smell of curry on the couch with a glass of wine. The crash of city life around her as she walked through her slums to get home. The expression on her landlord's face when she said she didn't have rent- just give her a few days, a few days.
The room was small, nothing in it. Empty, devoid.
It was easy to cajole her out of it- it was easy to cajole Rajni into just about anything. She was polite that way, helpful.
It grew dark again.
OOC
Character's Name: Rajni Patel Character's Faction: Apartments Character's Journal Link:here Character's Survival Stats:Rajni PatelView BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Indian, hooked nose, average height, thin black hair, thick green headband, aviators
Red was in fact Rajni's favorite color, though green was close second.
It was disheartening, stepping through these doors and learning something only to have it taken. Always needed for another. A cage, a god- what did labels and titles matter? She was all things. She was the dream itself.
The light grew cold. It was always destroyed in the end. Back into the dark.
OOC
Character's Name: Rajni Patel Character's Faction: Apartments Character's Journal Link:here Character's Survival Stats:Rajni PatelView BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Indian, hooked nose, average height, thin black hair, thick green headband, aviators
They knelt in front of him, waiting, knowing he could do worse and knowing that he would not do worse. Harvard was their king and more, and they trusted him. He sat on a throne and it was his pleasure to subjugate, to find those willing and raise them up. And these two, three, if he counted the other, waited for him. Their skulls opened, glistening red and pink and beautifully vulnerable. In some countries, it was considered a sort of delicacy. Here, it was an act of acceptance.
Harvard chose her first, not necessarily because of a matter of importance, but that he wanted the taste of her on his tongue, free and unmuddied by others. And perhaps that was importance. He would possess her in the ways she wanted and they ways she did not know she wanted yet. There was a soft clink as he picked up a spoon, small and silver and tooled all over in designs he recognized but could not describe. Harvard knelt in front of her, pressed a hand to Caroline's cheek and slid it down to touch her collar. Even now it blinked a bright, red 'nine'. It was hers and and it was his.
"Caroline," he whispered, his voice gentle. Only for these few would he be gentle. And from her, he ate her memories, the specifics, the things that kept her up at night and made her shy away. He left their vague impressions; Harvard left her the nines but took her need to run. There were memories that made up herself as a person and he would not take it from her; he needed her as she was. His spoon slid deliberately in, cutting a predetermined pattern. And he tasted her failures like bitter ashes on his tongue. Harvard swallowed them down so that she would no longer have to. And, setting the spoon back down on it's platter, carefully licked clean, he kissed her, her own memories thick on his tongue, lingering faintly on his lips. Caroline could taste what she had given up. It was a lingering, slow thing, and then, he moved to the next person, directing someone else to replace her skull. Harvard would not allow any harm to come to them that he did not dictate.
The other person, blood leaking into his blonde hair, had always been a little less accepting, a little more jealous. But he was here, as he should be. And so, Harvard picked up his spoon. He carved out the jealousy that tasted of cut grass, he carved out his fear, his need for a brave front. Harvard swallowed them all down so that Austin would no longer have to deal with them. Because he had told Austin he would be there for him and this was the ultimate act of that. Harvard would swallow down the pudding-soft insecurities and the times Austin hesitated. It was his job to take even that which his people did not know needed taking. Slowly, methodically, he did this. And when he was done, Austin received a kiss, too, one last taste of memories better left behind.
Off to the side, another boy sat, his stormy blue eyes straining forward, fixed on Austin. He seemed to want to say something, but Harvard knew he wouldn't. There was a lack of the certain kind of fight needed. Still there had been precautions: black, thick tape, a length of rope, soft and gentle. Just because he needed to be bound didn't mean there was cruelty in it. Harvard bent down and brushed his lips against Austin's temple, curly hair tickling along his face. He whispered into the boy's ear, pressing that silver spoon into one hand. These two he had not bound, for they had come to him of their own will, begged for their cages with more than words. "Go," he said, "-you may have him."
There was a king who sat on his throne. There was a god who ruled over his people. It was good.
Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 2:15 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO: VIOLET DOOR ]
The dark halls around him shattered, and Liam was left in a room that was vaguely familiar, but he didn't know why. There were doors, three of them, and even without knowing why, he knew he had to pick one. He didn't know which.
Violet...
He'd been made. Not born, but made. That much he remembered, but it had been so long ago now, lost to the barest threads of memory. A feeling, more than a true knowing.
He was meant to be the guardian, the peace keeper. Watching over this earth and everyone on it. The one that cast judgement, and upheld peace and prosperity. Unbiased, they'd made him, but unbiased was not what they'd wanted. He'd done as he was bid, and slowly, over time, they had turned on him. Anger had turned to revolt, and revolt had turned into blasphemy.
Unbiased was not what was wanted, but unbiased was what he gave them.
Hated. His existence became torture. Nothing he did was right. Nothing he did was appreciated. Nothing. Nothing.
Without their belief, without their praise he is nothing. Discontent then betrayal. He faded, having never understood where he'd gone wrong.
OOC
Name: Liam Johnson Faction: University Rank: Sophmore Character Status: Minor to moderate wounds covering his back, arms, and legs. Moves stiffly. Character's journal link:Here
She was cold, so impossibly cold... But... She was regaining consciousness... Wait... When had she even fallen asleep...?
Slowly, the Dormouse ghoul begins to awaken. It was odd... She was so very cold, and yet... As she opens her eyes into the darkness, she realizes her mind wasn't fogged up with sleep at all... And being this cold... It should have been... But it wasn't... In fact, instead of drowsiness, there was something else... A buzzing gnawing madness that reminded her of when she was near the horse creature!
Suddenly, as she fully comprehends the madness that continually sept into her mind, it wakes her up fully and puts her on alert! Sitting up quickly, her mind was suddenly assaulted by a voice so powerful and piercing, that it nearly caused her to fall unconscious again! "A-agh! W-weapon? W-wha-" she chokes out only to be cut off by the ringing pain as she clutches her head in agony! Finally, the last words- "This is my Awakening" were too much for the Dormouse ghoul and she collapes in back into unconsciousness!
----
Thump, thump, thump!
Slowly, as a almost rhymic thumping sounds nearby, Camilla begins to regain consciousness again... It wasn't until she felt a sharp piercing pain in her leg that she fully regained consciousness! "A-ack!" she yelps before hissing slightly from the pain! Immediately, she sits up to find a green vine with ominous thorns wrapped around her right leg! Before she could even react, the vine begins dragging her... somewhere! "Eep! Let go!" she shouts as she twists around and begins scrabbling to find something to grab! For a moment however, she pauses in her desperate search for purchase as her eyes catch sight of the glowing green vines... They were, beautiful and terrible all at the same time... Curiousity prompted her to look at them for longer then she should despite her stomach's avid protest! Finally, she couldn't stand the nausea any longer and had to look away down at the only place safe, the floor...
Once she looked away from the glowing vines, Camilla quickly realizes the humming and buzzing in her mind was growing louder and louder! Soon, bits and pieces of her memory, her personality, herself as a whole begin to fade away as she realizes she was being carried off to the center of this mass, to the center of creation itself! She was being absorbed! Like all the halloween creature's that had made up the horse creature!
"N-no! I won't give up who I am! I won't let you consume me!" she shouts determinedly before beginning to struggle harder against her captor! She and Camille had fought against Bouou Rozu when she was consumed with revenge, they'd held onto themselves them! Camilla had to keep fighting she couldn't give up! Unfortunately, the vine didn't seem impressed by her little display of defiance and simply tightens harder around her leg! Hissing with pain, this simply causes her to struggle harder! "I won't lose myself, I'll keep fighting! I'll remember what-... Remember that I-... I..." she had continued to struggle despite the nausea, despite the overwhelming presence of creation! Finally however, it all became too much for the Dormouse ghoul... Her name soon slips from her grasp as the rest of her began to follow...
Her struggling soon winds down till she was being dragged with no resistance... Who... was she...? She, was just a piece... A piece of something greater... But... Who... was she before...? Was... she ever anything before...? Ever, anything more then a piece of creation...?
It didn't matter... She was a part of creation now...
Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 2:46 pm
RESCUER POV
One moment, Pelagion was hanging around the human city, observing just how it had gone to s**t, the next he was... awake?
He blinked at his surroundings, his head hurting with every reflected beam of light – and there weren't many bright ones in the air.
They did not tell you Pelagion choked as the words sliced through his mind. He'd never thought that words could hurt before, he'd never realized that they could hold that kind of power, but apparently, they could... oh Jack, they could. I know their secret weapon. What secret weapon? What was the voice...no... the presence, the force of will not his own, what was it talking about? ”I will find it. Even if you do not know, it is a matter of eventuality. My knowledge increases...” Okay, great, now let me go. Pelagion thought reflexively, before gasping in muscle-tensing agony. He could feel his Fear screaming against it. The voice plucked him like a chord, and he started to wonder if the voice he was hearing was strummed from his own mind.
He had no idea. He'd never been good at instruments. Either way he didn't like it. He didn't want to be here. Where was, even, here? Where was he? He had to get out... he had to...
”This is my awakening.”
The words were harsh and slammed into Pelagion's psyche like a fist made of bricks. He fell limp to the floor (floor?) and blacked out for a moment.
And then he felt it – something crawling up his leg, sticking into him, grabbing him and dragging him closer to something that made him hurt and retch. Pelagion did something he hadn't done before, not even when he was a little bitty scareling.
He panicked.
He flipped himself over and tried to scrabble away, grabbing for anything that could give his fingers purchase, anything that could pull him closer... no... away from the pulsating mass he couldn't look at. It worked, vaguely, and that gave him hope enough that maybe it could work, maybe he could get away.
And then, in a slow, rise of realization, he understood, on the most basic level, that it was futile. He was not singular. He was not an individual...
(No, he was, he was, he was! He was Pelagion Elandar, Reaper, Illusionist, dedicated rulebreaker!)
He was a part of something greater.
(No, no, he was himself, independent as a cat, nobody's. Pelagion belonged to nobody. Pelagion... Pel... was that even his name? Did he have a name? Who was he?)
This was what he was made for.
(No, he wasnt! He wasn't made for anything! He was independent, like a cat, but a Reaper. But... Reapers were made to reap. Demons to make deals. Monsters to frighten. Ghosts and undead to spook. Humans to be afraid. He had been made for a purpose. He could not fight that purpose. Hadn't he seen that, just now?)
He was one of many, a single stalk in a sea of wheat, a small drop in an ocean of knowledge, a single leaf on a tree...
(No! He was... he was...)
Fading. He was fading. He struggled still, even as he forgot, fighting for that tiny gem of self that he knew he was, that he knew he held so dear. He couldn't remember anything else through the din of everything, but that it was important. Important to him. He needed it. He was it.
Why?
His struggles were meaningless. He was dragged in, and the closer he got, the more he wondered why he was bothering to struggle. Why he cared. Soon, even that laziness, that fundemental independent not-quite-apathy was gone. He was nothing else but everything, and he was no longer certain he had been anything more...
She was... Dreaming? Yes... Clearly this was a dream!
There was darkness all around Ellie; and in the darkness were multicolored bubbles gently floating around her! Each bubble contained what looked like a bit of fog or smoke, and inside the fog or smoke she could see a memory or a emotion play out! As she walks through the clusters of memory bubbles, she occasionally touches one to reexperience the memory in full.
Her life up until Day Zero hadn't been bad by any means. She didn't have many good friends, but that was due to her natural shyness... Her parents loved her though, and she was always taken care of. But she wasn't allowed to be helpless either, her parents had prepared her for the world and even made her get a job so she could buy her own books and games! They did it because they loved her, and Ellie was thankful for that. After Day Zero, life got hard, very hard! But she persevered, she never gave up. She made a new family in the mall, for she knew her own was lost... She began to come out of her shell, to become braver and stronger! She created a home for herself in the bookstore, and furbished it even! She took on the bandit's tasks with a broken arm, and bought her freedom out of the Casino. She survived the hospital, then...
Suddenly, the bubbles, which had been complacently floating around, dart in front of her and begin forming three rectangular objects! Wait, not just any rectangular objects, doors! A Red one, a Blue one, and a White one respectively. "Hm?" she hums curiously as she looks at the newly formed doors. Naturally, she was drawn to this rather large and curious change in her dream. However, she found that only one door really captured her interest- The blue door! Slowly and cautiously, she approaches the Blue door before wrapping her hand around the handle. The moment she turns the knob, the door flings open and before she could even react, it sucks her in!
----
She was... She was a goddess! A goddess of a glorious and beautiful autumnal world- Solsta Autumnia! Always was it fall in Autumnia, always was there beauty!
In the north it snowed occasionally as the richly colored leaves eternally fall from trees which never stopped producing them! In the south, reds and oranges occasionally offshoots the rich green all around, while the weather always stayed perfectly temperate! Always that's what the world was, always stable, always beautiful, always productive and strong! ...wasn't it?
Unfortunately... It wasn't... Long long ago, a war broke out. Small at first, Ellie didn't pay it much attention. She was too busy making sure the leaves fell on time, and the farms produced enough food! Her lack of attention however, was a mistake... The tiny war grew larger, and larger, and larger, until it consumed everything! Ellie tried desperately to protect her Autumnal world! To save the people from themselves, to maintain everything! But... It was all for naught...
No matter what choice she made, the world continued to crumble... No matter how hard she tried... It all continued to fall apart... Soon, she started to doubt the choices she made... If she'd stopped that tiny war... Would this all have happened? If she'd done this differently... would this have gone better? Finally, there was nothing left that she could do... All she could do now... Was wait... Wait and watch her dying world, watch and hope... Hope that they could save themselves...
Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2015 3:08 pm
Vctims POV
Shaun dreamt feverishly. Things had been clear when he had awoken, as clear as anything could be in this insane city, during this insane month. He tossed and turned in a circus of memories, unable to escape, unwilling to escape.
Happy birthday Shaun echoed through his mind, the words only holding bitterness. Shaun couldn't remember having a happy birthday, He couldn't even remember his birthdays. But this had been the 18th, he knew it from his birth certificate.
His mother... what had she cared about birthdays?
His friends... what had they cared?
He had cared, but he'd kept his mouth shut. He'd given himself presents every day – other people's things became his. Memories of heists, of cons, of pickpockets unravelled in his dream like gossamer carpets. Things gone right, things gone wrong, terrible consequences, all knit together into a hallway of joy and tears.
Shaun walked down that hallway, not exactly confused so much as amazing. There were so many memories... there were so few. His life was so new. So incomplete...
The hallway ended in a series of doors – three. He was supposed to walk through the doors. The hallway behind him waited for his choice, the memories waited, like a stilled chorus. He reached out and opened...
Shaun was amazing. He was a god. Granny had said he was capable of anything – she was right, he was. Ha, he wanted to shout to all those people who had said he would get nowhere. Ha, he wanted to say to his mother, his absent father, to that Jackass Bill. The joke was on him – that guy was haunting a hospital, Shaun was amazing.
He was a circus performer, dressed in the most fabulous outfits, dancing and cavorting effortlessly, like a bird, for all to see. The crowd – there was a crowd, an enormous crowd, a whole country's worth of people, clapping and oo-ing and aah-ing over his every move. He could control their fates with a mere gesture. He could make them scream.
And they were, screaming. He was hope amidst despair. A wrong move could send the world, this world, into war. Blood ran through the stands even as people cheered and whooped. He tried to stop the violence, tried to placate the crowd.
They loved him. They did. But he could feel that some hated him. Many resented him. And a few, a strange few, did not care. But all of them, they needed him to dance, to show them wonders, and, on the edge of a tightrope, he stopped, watching the audience tear itself to pieces as the music played.
What was he to do? Did he do anything right? They were no longer looking at him – his actions controlled them like marionettes, but now it was up to them to complete the act. Had he moved them right? Had he written the right thing for them with his gestures, his moves, his enrapturing charm? He watched them and knew it was out of his hands.
There, on the tightrope, he took a new bow, and then, with a flourish, leapt to the ground below as everything dissolved into conflict and music. There was nothing more he could do but finish his performance, and watch the final act...
