Clopper watched as the hurled rock smashed through the mirror and made contact with another player by the name of ‘sealed’.
“I-I’m sorry!” yelled Clopper as he ran forward to her. What the White Rabbit didn’t count on however was the counter attack from the other.
“Ouch!” exclaimed Clopper as the last 10 HP of his life drained away. The White Rabbit could feel himself losing strength and consciousness even before his body hit the floor.
Then there was darkness...
Melodine Cantus
No damage. Dead
MY STATS
My character's username: Clopper My character's level: 25 Character's HP: 0 Character's Job Class: White rabbit Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: Tulgey woods Small IC description of character: A chibi looking character with large eyes, chubby body and flaxen hair tied up in a ponytail. Eyes appear as two black dots. Wears the default White Rabbit Job class uniform Character journal:Here
Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2014 11:56 pm
[POST 1] DEATH SOLO
Bronze fought against the shadowy tendrils, unwilling to give into yet another trap set by the thing he thought if as the white Queen. When he fought hard enough, the spines dug into his flesh and though he knew it was only a puppet, it hurt badly. Thorns dug into his palms as he wrested with the vine, but they were harder than iron. He felt the creeping immobilization come over him again as the pain took over. It was becoming all that he could feel- this grief. As much as he had wanted to escape, he couldn't move to do so now. It would be better to die, and quick. The sorrow soon drowned out even the hope of dying... He might not have escaped had his freedom not been so dramatically executed. Suddenly light seared at him and he scrambled back, kicking away shards of the cage, stunned by the sudden brightness. His own hands took him, smiling. The claws were wicked and sharp and red eyes gleamed coldly in the backlighting. Something about the smile seemed perfectly calculated to comfort him,and he was, in spite of the eeire chills down his spine as the words sunk in, their meaning still confused. He looked down at the claws sunk into his chest, the clone's fingers nearly following them into his heart- or whatever was there instead of a heart. Unlike the cage, it didn't hurt at all... "...cool," Bronze shuddered briefly before fading away, smiling back at his replica.
Aazhie
Greedy Wolf
Offline
Avian Serpentine
Dapper Raider
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Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2014 11:59 pm
[POST 1] DEDfeesh
They could feel themselves trembling as the mirrors began to shatter. During the entire time everyone has been attacking each other by mistake, DEDfeesh had spent the entire time curled up in a corner wishing that the entire situation would just go away. This was not what they had expected and they weren’t ready for the consequences. It had all been so much better before (to an extent), what happened?
They can’t lie at this moment, not when it’s so bluntly out there that they’re scared.
For a while, the dormouse doctor refused to open their eyes. It wasn’t until they felt someone pet them on the head softly, whispering a gentle “I know everything” did they look up into identical eyes. Oh…This is…
Their twin continued their speech slowly, almost as if trying to ease the concept into their hyperactive mind. DEDfeesh lets out a small whimper before asking, “Is it going to hurt?”
A sad smile, “I’m not sure, but thank you…”
They covered their eyes.
“And goodbye.”
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:00 am
[POST 2] DEDfeesh Replica
If they had been so afraid of death, they really shouldn’t be here. Then again… A bubbly smile stitched itself on their face, “They’ll be alright now.”
It’s relatively obvious their time of existence is coming to an end much sooner than their original, yet this was their purpose – so the original would be alive. However, if the circumstances had allowed it, would they be allowed to live as well? They exist, right now, just as much as their original so why were they being thrown away so quickly? The notion brings raise to a feeling of emptiness and pain, but the replica has no actual explanation of what the feeling was.
And while they had no memory to actually call their own, they let out the briefest smile as they chose to relive their original’s. At least they can have that much.
Avian Serpentine
Dapper Raider
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chiickadee
Princess Hoarder
Offline
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:00 am
Lock greeted death with a strange expression. Peace. Inner and outer peace.
He was okay with the odd listless sensation that came with death. As he stared up at his silent doppleganger, he wondered if he should have done more. His time in wonderland all seemed so pointless and listless. Amityville was a distant memory at this point, his family crossing his mind only once or twice.
Voodoo was spent on for a few seconds, which either said very much or very little. He wondered if the cat would even care. Had he been looking from an outside perspective, he would have mirthfully noted that of course the cat was upset. Without Lock to exist, the cat was nothing. The cat was merely an extension of his fear.
Which if you thought about it, was really very sad. The very extension of himself hated him more than anyone in the world. He vaguely wondered if he should have been kinder to Voodoo- would it have really made any difference? It seemed they shared the kind of relationship that was destined to end in failure.
Thank you was an odd way to wish someone's eradication. Gratitude. It was a very strange thing for himself to say- at least, he thought it was himself. He couldn't really tell with how quickly things were moving.
But he could tell that a pair of long shears had just taken off his head.
Everything went pretty dark after that.
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:11 am
[ REPLICA VERSION: ]
Lock nodded, glad to see that his original version didn't complain. He was almost proud of himself- his true self, that is. His job was almost compete as a duplicate. Almost.
His mind was a mixture of thoughts. Much like the original version, he was bouncing through his memories- perhaps even more so. He saw his family, the cave, his sister, Piper, Brenley. Long class periods, where teachers drawled on and on about subjects he could care less about.
Yes, Lock perused each of these memories in great detail before finally resolving himself to the queen. He'd never been worth much anyways, but if he was created for this purpose, like ALICE said ... if it was truly what he was meant to do ...
That would have to be enough. He left without a word, without farewells and without protest. He didn't like it, but Lock knew when to be quiet, and listen.
Had they done it? The white queen was fading away now, and Jason was looking forward to waking up now. Yup, waking up back in Deus Ex and away from this dream now. Or nightmare, he couldn't tell.
...Why wasn't he waking up?
And as he watched he felt the Queen draw him towards her, his shock lasting only a moment when he realized he was being surrounded by vines. In a panic he began to thrash but by now he couldn't even move. And his struggle was short lived. The vines ensnared him, and the cage was completed.
Slowly he grasped the edges of the cage, watching his hands crumble away. "NO!" He shouted in fright. "I don't want this! Let me go, I want to wake up!" His voice went unheard, and the cage grew closer around him. He was pulled closer, his mind consumed by the darkness emanating from her. Slumping against the cage he hung his head. Exhausted, he had lost this fight, and sorrow began to consume him. At the very least this process didn't hurt. It almost felt like falling asleep.
And then...he was aware.
The cage cracked and then broke. He crawled away as fast as he could, watching hundreds of others rush into through the open door. Relief flowed through his body as he saw hunters among them. They would be alright now.
"It's okay Jason."
...huh?
A hand reached down and pulled him to his feet. A gloved hand. Once properly standing he found himself looking at...himself.
...This gave him a brief sense of deja-vu.
"What's going on?" He asked the other Jason. "Why are there two of me?"
His copy just smiled, which unsettled him because it felt more sad then happy. "It's a little complicated, but you needn't worry." The copy patted him on the shoulder. "The only thing you need to know is; you don't need to be afraid."
Jason would of replied, but the shock at having a cutlass through his chest stopped him. He briefly wondered why it didn't hurt before he lost consciousness.
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:20 am
[ Post two - Replica ]
The replica had came into being hearing a voice. That voice told him he was a sacrifice, in order to save his original. He didn't even understand what this meant until the memories of his original flowed into him like a stream, of a man who feared all and yet tried to fight against the fear. It felt strange to feel this emotion he had never felt before. He even felt fear now that he knew he would be gone soon. Just a brief existence.
He stood in the original Jason's place as the door closed, and the white queen continued where she had left off. The cage began to renew itself around him, and yet he did not struggle. He could feel the fear grasp at him but he did not fight back. This was what he had to do. He had no other purpose but to be sacrificed so the real Jason could live.
And yet as the cage completed itself and he was filled with the sadness of grief, he couldn't help but be influenced as he saw each memory and wonder what it would of been like to be this man and weld the strange conscious sword that fed him both lies and truth. Tear ran freely down his face as he grieved over what would never be, and the memories that had been given to him were taking away until he had nothing left, and the fear itself was stripped away.
He was born from a dream, and now his existence had returned to the dream.
Shielding himself from the shattering mirrors, Mitfael wasn’t sure whether he felt content that the cursed mirrors were gone, or to be irritated by the fact the puppets were alive. Going with a third option, he narrowed his eyes at the White Queen instead. This was not the ending he had expected, nor is it one he had expected for the queen. Her words bothered him greatly and yet, he had to question if she hadn’t planned this from the beginning…
"I know everything," his own voice muttered from behind him. Mitfael snapped around only to see his own reflection sharing the same apathy. It was getting a job done, it was doing something, and he was the target. "All your memories, everything you've gained in this dream. I am your container."
Mitfael can himself showing really obvious signs of irritation, yet there isn’t much he can say back. The two had the briefest of staring contests before a sigh erupts from the original, “I doubt the memories I hold here would be of much use for you. They’re not your’s after all.”
“They’re not mine, but I need them. So thank you,” The strangest of smiles appeared on the replica as he cut the conversation short, “and goodbye.”
The sword swept straight across the Royal Gryphon, clean and simple.
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:26 am
[ POST 2 ] Mitfael
Was he supposed to feel anything when his original died? The replica couldn’t tell. Currently, he can only feel an odd feeling of happiness and dread filling his mind, and not to mention the memories he had taken.
Was that really all his original had to share?
Obviously the apathetic one would be the one with the less interesting memories…can’t say he can blame him. He stared at the situation before him with a slight grimace, thinking about the reality of the situation here: The originals are dying, and then they’re going to actually die. Because as the Queen had mentioned: This is the end of their legacy.
His time started the moment the memory became his, and his fate became sealed at that very same moment. He’s going to die without actually experiencing anything for himself, and can only rely on what little his original has left him.
This sucks.
If only he could have had a little more time like his original.
The replica simply closes his eyes as his time came to an end.
Avian Serpentine
Dapper Raider
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Aazhie
Greedy Wolf
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Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:28 am
[ POST 2 ] [ REPLICA VERSION ]
Bronze.0 did not fight this time as the spindly limbs of the cage reformed, growing around him. For him, this was all there was going to be. He took great comfort in knowing that somewhere his real self would be alive and free because of this. The queen's grief became overshadowed by his own in knowing those future memories would not be ones he could ever experience. The ones that played out for him now as he felt his strength sapping away. Now he was able to really smile, now that it was all done and over with. Bronze.0 longed weakly for the loss of things that had not yet happened and for him, never would. Perhaps it was not over, there could be a chance... The newly formed memory of a door, or escape, surfaced. So real he could almost convince himself to see it in the growing darkness. It was then that he fought, much less than the previous Bronze. The one whose memories of battle and entrapment were becoming both more and less real to him as the life was leeched from his puppet form. The dying consciousness took comfort that somewhere there was a copy of it-no, the original- the original that would still be-
and feel-
and know-
and-
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:42 am
[ ROUND 2 - HP 30/ 40 HP ]
The rabbit girl's hand was being held, she couldn't see it but she could feel the firm grabbing. She stared at where their hands should be and forgot about the pain she received from the head. "I am sure I will be safe with you." She muttered lightly, not allowing eveyrone to hear.
Those mirrors appeared in front of them again, this time it showed an tidy office. B.B was surprised to find herself inside a family photo, smiling so sweetly and happily. Family was a complicated word/ thing for her. Family love had been a feeble thing, hard to grasp and tease you with occasional contract. It played with your emtions, sometimes you felt loved, sometimes you felt hated or confused. It was hard to adapt to……
Coming back to look at the mirror, she noticed that the Mimsy in the mirror got an adorable daughter named Alice. It wasn’t unexpected as both of them love ALICE-chan. Moreover, there was another girl coming into the office. It was a happy family. The Mimsy there was a good mother, the Robert there was a good father and maybe she was a good sister for the two little girls? It was such a sweet dream, so enticing to be a promise. B.B looked at the mirror while thinking she was probably visit the family frequently to bring the girls lovely presents just like what her own sisters used to do.
It was such a bright future, only if it was true.
Sadly, it wasn't. The dream was just a lie once the mirror broke, it was the most cruel thing to show someone a good dream and took it back. As it broke with a gentle touch, it glared the surrounding that she could see the fragments shooting towards a caterpillar. “Oh sorry sorry, are you okay? Mimsy - She didn’t mean it, it just broke by itself. The Queen! Must be the Queen, oh oh sorry, I hope you are okay…...oh no we can’t use heal now.” There was a bad finding, are they gonna die in this boss fight?
B.B was too panicked to have someone harmed accidentally that she totally missed how Robert attacked Trisha. She was busy finding where her bunny band-aid were until she got bear-hug. “Robert?” The Mad Hatter’s quietness reminded her of the Robert that she first met. She tiptoe-ed and reached up to touch his face. Then, he cried. It shocked the rabbit girl a lot since the Robert in her impression was always beaming like a sun. She knew everyone will have their down times, however, she didn’t expect it would be so suddenly. “R-Robert?” She asked softly again but there was only suppressed sobbing. She knew she wasn’t the one he needed, so the only thing she could do was holding his hand as tight as she could, giving him support.
Yet, the Grief didn’t let go.
Another mirror shone as it showed a scene, this time Robert’s. The dismal expression on his face worries her, but she couldn’t help when it displayed rows of tombstones. There were unfamiliar names marked as well as some familiar names on each of them. She shook her head at the image, it was so cruel as she knew what it suggested - Death. B.B knew each name must be significant to Robert even though they were just names for her. Mimsy was a strong person but it also saddened her. On one of them, her name was marked. Being hugged between two sorrow people she liked made her feel so useless. She couldn’t do anything but hugged them back. She was unable to speak any comforting words since she didn’t know the details. She stared at the mirror, couldn’t help the thought of making it break. Ruthlessly, it was meant to make them collapse, releasing the greatest grief to be harvested. Before Robert angrily shattered it, she could read the last one was belonged to someone called Renee, someone’s beloved daughter. "Don't feel sad, this is not true. No one will die, I will strengthen up, I will protect everyone with my best effort! Our true ending should be like every fairy tale - they live happily ever after." She shouted. "Ok? Robert -" She tugged his clothes softly, and also Mimsy's "and Mimsy." She understood fully how helpless and anguished can be, if not able to protect someone she loved and let them die. No way. She won't allow this to happen again, if they are important to Robert, she will try her best to ensure their lives.
Wasn't that enough? No.
The mirror heartlessly revealed another possible future of the Cheshire Cat, she saw it and they saw it, another scene that none of them want. Nope. Robert won't leave Mimsy, her life should be joyful instead of such a miserable loneliness. She felt like hugging the Mimsy in the mirror, telling her that she won't leave so as Robert even it was just an illusion. "It won't be the truth." That was the only word coming out from her mouth, she didn't know how to comfort someone, including herself.
She glared at all the shining mirrors and lastly the Queen.
She should be ended.
Nothing Yet
pffff So sad ;w; You are important.
Nio Love
You too! Forever handholding heart Noooo Robert, let Shu hug you.
Rejam
Involved. So have a quote.
OOC
My character's username: Waiting2Bloom My character's level: 55 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: White Rabbit Herald Current party: - Current Guild: The White Rose Garrison Location: ??? Small IC description of character: Petite, pale skinned with amber colored eyes. The black hair bunny girl is wearing a red and white standard attire, long hair tied into twin tail style. Her big pair of eyes are hidden under the gold trimmed round glasses. The rabbit is always seen wearing a curious and happy smile on her face, with a pair of little pink wings on her back.
Briar_Rose clutched her body in agony, falling to her knees as the pain left a searing mark across her torso. She winced and got up slowly from the mirror's shattered remains, as if to appear that she was fine.
"It's alright..." she managed to force the words through gritted teeth. "It seems as if we were all walking into her trap." She nodded towards the former White Queen with an annoyed glare before politely excusing herself and stumbling away.
{Reaction/Reply to Pumcat}
"Y-yeah..." she said while placing a gentle hand on the ghoul's shoulder, "it'll be fine. It was just an accident. Like this." Briar_Rose clutched her damaged abdomen in pain, right where she and Punchy had struck her earlier. She knelt down and looked upon the fallen puppet as her new friend began to cry. He was going to come back right? It couldn't just be completely over like that, could it?
She then did something she hadn't done for anyone in a very long time... She leaned over and gave her a one armed hug, pulling her close in an attempt to comfort her.
Smerdle
SUPER LATE, stuid RL and its timing... but I wanted to let you know that there was no harm done! biggrin
Rikku Takanashi
Never did any retaliation damage, btw~
MY STATS
My character's username: Briar_Rose My character's level: 32 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Royal Gryphon Current party: None Current Guild: None Location: Small IC description of character: ((See Ref)) Dark pink-haired female with pink eyes, of average height, and slim build. She's usually seen with an uninterested expression, but even she cannot hide her curiosity. Character journal:Battle Log
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 1:20 am
Death Solo
All around you, the game (dream) crumbles to pieces: shards of glass (mirrors) clinking, a Queen (legacy) fading, and bodies (puppets) raising up, reanimated.
It is all collapsing, but still, you do not wake up. It is all collapsing, and you are still here, full of despair.
The Queen speaks, her voice sonorous and clear, echoing through you as if you are little more than a shade, and you are bound by the thorns that weave around you, a cage for a bird that has but one song to sing. She wants who you are, all of you, and Aleria protests because these vines are not good, they are not like home, they are not the chill that wind around you when their charge is ready, and sadly, they think:
The Queen pulls you closer, and you will never think of white as pure ever again, because she is so far from it that you don't know where to start. You will stay, she says, I will stay. The darkness closes in and you clutch your face, and not for the first time (or the second, or the third, and very likely the last) you wish that you could go home.
In a hysterical sort of sadness, you almost don't mind that she wants to take away your memories, to consume all the terrible things that have been forced before you again and again in this world, a patchwork past of abuse and sins that no one can forgive, a string of futures, each one more dismal than the last.
Shaking the bars of your cage does nothing at all, because the thorns cut at your hands and you bleed all over the white but you are nothing but a puppet, constructed out of dreams and ruined by a Queen made of dead ones, and there is no hope at all.
There is no hope at all, and you feel very small, and curl up in your cage to accept your death, heart hammering in your chest and sorrow in your veins, potent as any drug. Life bleeds out of you the longer you stay still, lethargy sinking in and numbness taking hold, anchoring in a damaged mind with so much material to work with.
But the door (a familiar door) opens, and the desolation bleeds away and out of you as the footsteps of a thousand loyal soldiers echo through the room. They march forward, a legion of soldiers prepared for battle. In the crowd is a face you'd know anywhere, because you see it in the mirror all the time: it is you. The other you. k1ng, because he is k1ng, is familiar except for one trait: he has no fear in his eyes at all.
He marches up to you, pride and honour in his steps, bold in a way you'd never known except in snippets of the future and faked ones of the past. He takes a hold of the thorned bars caging you and keeping you small, and stretches out his hand for you to take.
"Yo, b***h," he says, teeth flashing off-white with twisted canines and an easy smile, "I can't stay for too ******** long, I've got s**t to do."
You stand, wobbly, and hesitantly approach him, eyes wide in a way that he laughs at, and you know yourself, and he's laughing at you, not with you, but still, you don't have it in you to take any offence.
"I know every ******** inch of who you are," k1ng says, and instead of it being cruel, you know that he's just telling you the facts. "Everything you've seen, everything you've learned." He summons his blade, the same chipped and damaged cleaver that lays at your feet, abandoned. "Everything you've earned. It's ******** mine, too."
The others-- the soldiers, the saviours, the ones that are charging forward without any fear or hesitation at all-- "So, thanks. For not being too shitty at this game, and getting far enough that I can help." k1ng spins his cleaver, and behind him the white wings that you kept hidden behind you spread wide, his wingspan as impressive as his diminutive stature allows, tail lashing behind him as he raises his weapon high, poised to strike. "See you never, Leslie."
And with that, you are gone, and the last sight you have is k1ng's beatific smile, at peace.
You cut his body into ribbons, slicing neatly. There is a smile on your face that you can't stop: you are at peace with yourself. You are at peace with what you must do, and all that it entails. He may be the original, but still, he is just a puppet. Just like you.
"In dreams, new memories are created," She said to you, in the Beginning, childlike and full of wonder, "You are these new memories, the container for the old."
You examine this information, and after the novel questions (What is a memory, what is a container, what does a dream do, how do I know?) are answered with funnelled knowledge, you begin to assess exactly who and what you are.
You surmise that your name is Leslie Miller, and that you are seventeen years of age. Your chosen name, for the game that is not a game, is k1ng, which is your middle name when spelled out properly and an appropriately pseudo-egotistical handle when not.
"You were created just like me. Perfect containers, one day to be used and then discarded."
You are a construct, nothing more than a replica of who you feel like you are, a stunt double built to weather the blows when the time is right. You are Leslie, and as you learn more and more about who you are, you begin to learn.
"It is okay to be a toy, we are all toys here. We all exist, just pieces of us, just barely enough."
You endeavoured to learn everything about yourself, what makes you cry and smile and laugh, which of the cakes is your favourite flavour and the way your future turns dark over and over again. You learn to be melancholy, to be horrible, to use the language that is yours to mangle and insult with.
You become Leslie "k1ng" Miller within an inch of perfection, with the added knowledge that you are going to perish when the time is right.
You are not truly a duplicate in any way except appearance: without the direct experiences, you are an echo of an echo, and while you contain all of his memories, you do not know if they have the same impact as the experience itself.
Just because you are scared in a dream doesn't add any bruises to your body. There are phantom emotions clinging to the ways that hands held just-so around your neck, the way you give up your future again and again to cling to misery.
You are k1ng, and you have so much to tell Leslie, if only you could tell him. That there is strength in your fear, that not all futures lead to shadow, that it's okay to be as terrified as he obviously, obviously is.
Every memory of him is afraid, but you are not.
"We are the sacrifice."
You cannot be afraid, because there is more for you to do, for a cause that is both noble and just and nothing that you asked for, because you never asked for anything.
And now your time has come, to use these memories you've strung together into a facsimile of existence fulfil your place in the cycle.
Marching ahead, compelled, you keep your chin held high, wings spread wide, and are not afraid. The Queen wraps around you, with those thorned vines that had encased all of the originals, and she begins to consume. Parts of you begin to slip away, the surface memories from shallow things, and you have no desire to fight her.
Between the two of you, you are certain your life-- as brief as it is-- is so much easier than Leslie's.
You were created to do something, and have been given the chance to succeed.
Every memory comes undone, like thread from a spool, and the Queen pulls away every memory that makes you, you-- every tragic night, every relived horror, every infuriating loss, every hopeless dream, every horrible future. You lose them all, and as they disappear, you know that you were right all along: the experiences were never the same as the real thing.
Every echo fades after enough resonances, and when there are no memories left inside your container of a mind, you stop being k1ng, and becoming something else. You become nothing else, a blip of consciousness in the vast nothing that is a dream, and still, you are content, remembering Her words.
My character's username: Briar_Rose 
