Petrifying didn't seem like such a terrible way to die.
Robert heard a voice - SCIENCE, the girl who'd seen his last image, in fact, and parted his wings just enough to look through them, at her. What she said was obvious, but still relieving. She wasn't angry at his accidental injury; just the opposite. She was trying to console him.
The girl had one eye. Robert knew, or at least thought he knew, that he was talking to a monster.
He smiled, and nodded his head just once. "Good. Horsemen suck. You don't." It was his crass, simple way of saying thank you. Because she didn't have to reach out to him. She didn't have to forgive him. But she had, because she was decent. And he wasn't even that surprised.
Shu had seen it all with them, and tried to bring comfort with each vision. Such an innocent little thing, unaware of all the pain Deus laid out ahead of her in her future, and yet all she wanted to do was keep them safe. Speechless, he kept her safe in his embrace along with the woman he loved.
Mimsy was giggling against him, which meant his last minute choice to reprise his Hatter persona had worked. If he could just keep her giggling, all the way to the end, he knew he'd be content. So he leaned in to nuzzle her nose, giggling along with her, and gave her a proud nod.
"Exactly right." He told her, knowing that would be the last thing she'd want to hear.
But that wasn't in the cards for them.
He lifted his head when he heard a familiar voice, and stared straight into the too-close eyes of his replica. He laughed, because the replica's eyes looked perfectly normal, and symmetrical. As perfect as the replication process was, somehow it hadn't read Robert's particular brand of insanity. So he stared at himself, and wondered with a laugh if this was his duplicate, or if he was the fake. It didn't really matter, but it was fun to imagine that he'd been some fabrication, meant to thrive in Wonderland.
It would have explained a great many things!
But it wasn't, he soon found out. It was just a container, made to hold everything that was him, and take his place. His place in Wonderland.
He felt cheated.
The staff, tipped with a heart just like his own, buried itself right in the middle of his chest. No spray of blood appeared. He couldn't even feel it, but he saw it, and he knew he was dying.
He was falling. His wings were dropping. But he'd promised he wouldn't let her go - he'd promised. He'd broken so many promises, in his life.
It was time he kept one.
He never saw whether she was killed by her own replica, as sight left him before he could look at Mimsy. He would have liked to look at her, one more time.
But instead, he slumped down onto his knees, against her legs. And his hand, weak though it was, remained firmly around hers. Because he promised. And that was important.
His replica whispered something, but it was too late to catch it. Too late for anything but saying goodbye.
Zee Oddwyn
Nothing Yet
Meegane
OOC
My character's username: HULKWICH My character's level: 100 Character's HP: Dead Character's Job Class: Insane Mad Hatter Current party: Current Guild: Penumbra Location: Small IC description of character: Other than a pair of white angel wings, this particular mad hatter looks remarkably normal at first glance. Blonde, spiky hair and a looming tall build - but to look in his eyes is to understand why he'd been picked for his job class. Blood red, with dark circles under them, and one was dilated fully and usually twitching. Mad was a good way to put it. Character journal:[ Battle Entry Log ]
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 2:05 am
[ Mimsy's Demise in Wonderland ]
Something broke through her laughter.
Someone's voice, alongside Robert's, as he spoke highly of SCIENCE. Mimsy fell silent to listen, and turned towards the sound to find Shu, who was confidently reassuring her that it wouldn't end that way. Each time she felt responsible for her safety, she proved that she was strong enough on her own. Shu showed her that she could consistently succeed where Mimsy failed herself, and it was comforting to know that the importance she placed on her was undeniably earned.
Every comfort like this was more necessary now than they had ever been.
Robert knew that. He always knew, especially when she didn't. 'Exactly right', he told her, when she had been so, so wrong. The right answer to one question was not much of an accomplishment when everything else was wrong. Not even two right answers would be enough - she was proud to be right about ALICE, but it didn't matter. This was now nothing if not insurmountably wrong.
But not him. Those words would be the last thing that he would say to her, the last would say at all, and he chose to be right, just for her. Or maybe they had not been a choice at all. Maybe he just was.
When the rumbling stopped, she was waiting. She was patient. She had always known too. She smiled at her when the feathers fell away, smiled crooked, because simply knowing how to smile could not produce a real one. The scythe in her hands was held at a perfectly calculated height, tilted to the proper angle, arranged into the correct variable to balance this equation.
"We determined," Mimsy hoarsely whispered, overcome by panic again at the sight of her. "The prior version, the closest to the original Mimsy...that takes priority. I know that, so you should—right?"
"I know everything," said Mimsy 3.0, with that horrid crooked smile, dragging them backwards. Ruining all that she had learned through feeling, really feeling, all on her own.
"Knowing everything will not be enough." Version 2.5.13 sounded absolutely crestfallen. Now she knew. She had stumbled across knowledge that she had no desire to find, and she had found it far too late. The information invalidated all that she had done for the past eight months, made this relationship that she had helped to create, every hug, every kiss, every night together, every promise, every marriage meaningless - unless she felt what she claimed to be searching for.
And that was a problem.
The implication did not impress Mimsy 3.0. "My memories are consistent with all of your memories, including all that you have gained within Wonderland. I am your container."
"That will not be enough either." It was a difficult admission, and she choked on every word. "Memories of what I have felt are not proper feelings. They will not be beneficial to us. The data alone will not sustain what we need, or what I learned. Do you feel happy? Feel it?"
Mimsy 3.0 said nothing.
"I thought as much," she sighed. Robert was pulling on her hand, and she kept her fingers tightly intertwined with his, but her eyes remained on the replica. "The definition of an emotion is useless. It is worthless to know what it looked like, or even what it felt like, without feeling it too. You will be destroying all of our progress if you destroy me. I have felt happiness, and I have felt love, and you have nothing but empty information. If you do not experience that emotion, if you only transplant that information within yourself to act as its container, will not allow you to feel what—"
Her collection of unfortunate knowledge had just gotten much, much worse.
"Oh no. No. No, no. No." Denial was not easy to express when there was no breath in her lungs, and was certainly no easier when the weight of Robert's empty puppet body slumped against her legs. There was a hole where his heart would have been, if this body had one. She despised herself for noticing this detail, when she'd realized seconds ago that his heart could never help her. It never could have.
He always knew, especially when she didn't, and he had been right all along. She clutched his hand, and drew in a ragged breath. Even though he knew she was wrong, and maybe because of it, he did what he promised for her. He kept his promise, and it served to give her the will to keep standing. Just a little while longer. With a smile, her very last real smile, she squeezed his hand and held Shu close, tucked under her arm. Mimsy knew that it would not keep her safe, but she could be happy at the end. Just like she said.
"I regret that you will only know how happy I was." It made sense, she thought, that she would be crying at the end this time. Emotion was so good at making the strong appear weak.
It took only one swing of the scythe to settle the problem.
Mimsy kept her temper just fine.
How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little fishes in With gently smiling jaws!
OOC
My character's username: Mimsy My character's level: 100 Character's HP: 30 Current Guild: Advocates of ALICE Small IC description of character: Mimsy is tall, thin, and colorlessly pale, with wide teal eyes, thick glasses, bright red/indigo streaks in the bangs of her black hair, and one long, thick braid that reaches her knees. She has Cheshire ears, a fluffy Cheshire tail, and a pair of blue demon wings. Her appearance is accented with images of galaxies in blues and purples. She is always carrying a small Alice. Mimsy's Journal: ♥
It felt like he'd just been born, just opened his eyes, and yet. An entire lifetime of memories resided within him. He could think back and still feel the emotion of losing the ones he loved. His heart still ached with the fresh memories of falling in love. Everything lived inside of him, and yet, he'd only seen the world for a few short, vibrant, exciting moments.
It was all a little unfair, really.
He'd stabbed through the heart of the man whose life he could remember, from start to finish. He watched him fall like a chopped tree, resting mercifully against his Mimsy's legs. His Mimsy's, he reminded himself. Not his own. He had no right, no claim to her, or anyone. He was just a puppet, made for a purpose. A purpose that did not include her.
He had a purpose. She was not his purpose.
Though the real Robert hadn't forced himself to watch, his replica remained wide eyed and focused as the replica of Mimsy tore into her counterpart. She did her job efficiently, and when she was done, Mimsy fell beside Robert, broken puppet strings and limbs tangling up within each other. They were safe, somewhere.
But he, and she, were not.
With all of the memories of his life filling him to burst, Robert rose one hand up, palm facing Mimsy's replica. At least the world that had created him to die, was kind enough to have made him a Mimsy, too. Or, as his memories served him, something else.
Mimsy might not have understood how important that last minute revelation had been, for her - but Robert had. Whether or not these containers understood what their real version had learned didn't change the one thing he wanted. He just wanted a chance to make her smile. Even if it wasn't really her.
She looked nothing like Simmy, on the inside. She couldn't even smile right, and if anything, the girl she killed had a better chance of living up to the name. But they were something else, something other, and they were giving it all up to protect something they never had.
The least they could have were their own names.
"What do you think?" He muttered out, his smile quirked with amusement. The world was shrinking around them, and so were they. But Trebor didn't move, he just waited for her to take his hand.
She regretted that she'd only know how happy she'd been. Trebor wanted to prove her wrong.
"Together?" He asked her.
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 2:06 am
[ Replica Mimsy, the Mimsy Murderer ]
The closest version to the original Mimsy did take priority, yes. And this Mimsy in Wonderland was not as smart as she looked, if she could not see why that was exactly why this had to occur.
She cut so easily through the puppet - she remembered precisely how this was done. It took only one swing of the scythe, and it was almost a pity that she had done her job so well, so efficiently. She wanted more. She wanted to leave nothing recognizable, until she had to drop the weapon to tear her apart with a thirst and a hunger and her bare hands alone.
But there was no time for that. So she looked upon her handiwork with pride, and fed on the surge of strength from the memories her broken body brought.
Maybe she had not been the one to make the cut from sternum to stomach, not quite the girl who was euphorically overcome by the scent of so much blood, but she remembered it as if she was. Maybe these successes were not hers, nor were these failures. Maybe she was not the one that he loved.
Maybe she was Not Quite Right, but she was what she was supposed to be. And this, this was hers. Now all of this was, and she could do so much better than the ones before her.
It would have been frightening to face her ending, so soon after her beginning, with the knowledge that her legacy did not extend past this moment. It was what every Mimsy dreaded most: no further purpose, no legacy to leave behind, no one to remember her name for its worth.
It would have, but his hand was waiting for her. And she was not quite Mimsy, but that was exactly who he wanted.
"I missed this," she murmured, eyes trailing up the length of the scythe. It was nice, yet incomparable to topics of greater importance that still had to be addressed, and did not hold her attention for long. Time was valuable, and she intended to spend it wisely.
Her fingertips passed delicately over his palm, before she placed her hand in his. No more waiting.
"There was never any question. Don't be silly." She smiled up at him. It was not quite right either, but it was wide and bright, her very best smile, because he'd earned it.
With a deep breath, she slipped her fingers into the spaces between his. They curled to nudge his palm against hers, until they fit like the properly interlocking pieces that they were.
Together.
"The end of my legacy," she exhaled, until all of it was gone. It felt nothing short of invigorating to be rid of it. And when her lips pressed to his, she started over - a new beginning, where she would never be alone.
There was still enough time to whisper to him before everything could close in around them, so she did, soft and steady with confidence:
"The beginning of ours."
One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back.
OOC
My character's username: Mimsy My character's level: 100 Character's HP: 30 Current Guild: Advocates of ALICE Small IC description of character: Mimsy is tall, thin, and colorlessly pale, with wide teal eyes, thick glasses, bright red/indigo streaks in the bangs of her black hair, and one long, thick braid that reaches her knees. She has Cheshire ears, a fluffy Cheshire tail, and a pair of blue demon wings. Her appearance is accented with images of galaxies in blues and purples. She is always carrying a small Alice. Mimsy's Journal: ♥
The mirror shatter and fragments fly everywhere. Puppets rise around her and the queen starts to fade. However she does not die, instead she draws Shadow closer. Long vines covered in thorns rise from the ground around her. Panic starts to set in; she does not like to be caged. The vines grow taller and form a cage around her.
"This is the end of your legacy," the queen says. She sounds stronger and when Shadow looks down on herself she realize that she is starting to fade. She is being consumed
"This is the rebirth of Grief. I will take your essence, your memories and make them mine. You will stay. I will stay."
The cage grows smaller and Shadow feels herself shrink. "You will stay." Dark tendrils claw drag Shadow towards the queen. The voice of the queen overrides her thoughts. Sadness consumes her as she feels her essence disappear. She feels defeated. "You will stay in this cage. Your existence, your memories, will contain my Grief."
Suddenly the cage breaks open with a snap.
Shadow jumps away from what’s left of the cage. Her essence returns to her and so does her memories. She shivers at the feeling of how close she was at dying.
She looks at the queen and notice a familiar looking door opening up behind her. Puppets, familiar looking puppets, walk through the door. Confusion only last a moment before she realize who the puppets are. Shadow looks for a special puppet in the crowd and it doesn’t take long before she spots it, her replica. The replica walks up to her and takes her hand.
"I know everything," the replica says. "All your memories, everything you've gained in this dream. I am your container."
“What’s a container?” Shadow asks.
The replica doesn’t answer. Instead it says "Thank you." It raises its weapon, a perfect identical copy of your weapon, "and goodbye."
The weapon strikes. Shadow expects pain, but there is none. In some weird way she knows that this, her dying, is ok. Instead of cold, she feels warm. Instead of sad, she feels happy. “Weird,” she thinks to herself. Shadow looks at her replica on last time before everything turns black. “Goodbye.”
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 3:25 am
Post 2 [ Replica version ] She was a replica, meant to replace the original here. She understood her purpose. The original will be safe.
... But.
Why did she feel sad? She remembered... but she didn't exist. Till now.
But that would be over soon, too.
Would the original remember her? Would anyone remember her? The memories she had were of others who knew the original... not her. But... were they one and the same?
Memories of the original flashed by her in fastforward, those of her childhood days and school ...and eventually, those of the journey in wonderland. And finally, there was the memory of her being slashed by the replica.
The reel didn't stop. From that moment on, the memories she had were her own. She was, for once, different.
Her time would stop here. The original would remember her as her old self, and carry on from here as someone else - the ghoul from the future.
This was for the better. For the both of them.
Closing her eyes, the replica, knowing who she truly was, drifted off into an eternal sleep.
Watching herself crumble to ground feels weird. She knows it had to be done. It was the only way she could return her original to her real self. A silent “goodbye” is heard and she knows it’s over. The original is dead, safe.
She turns around and walks up to the queen. Memories begin to flow and an early memory, from back when she was empty appears.
"In dreams, new memories are created," the voice speaks, unfamiliar. She cannot see. She do not understand sight. "You are these new memories, the container for the old. You were created just like me. Perfect containers, one day to be used and then discarded. It is okay to be a toy, we are all toys here. We all exist, just pieces of us, just barely enough. We are the sacrifice."
She was born in this dream. Memories of creation slowly unfurls. Happy memories, sad memories, angry memories appear the way the original had experienced them. She sees faces of people “she” has met, faces she will never see again. She doesn’t understand where the future will take her, but she knows that this is the right thing to do. Emotions connected to the memories slowly seep into her body. She knows that these are Shadows emotions, but they feel like her own. Sadness of hurting other people, pain of being injured by mobs, happiness of meeting people and finally peace. Peace is the last emotion and it’s connected to the event that occurred only moments ago, Shadows death. With this feeling she feels content. This is how it’s supposed to be, the original is safe.
The White Queen faces her, and the cage once again completes itself. The door, from which she arrived, has disappeared. "This is the end of your legacy." She stops listening. She has already relived this before, in a memory. "You will stay. I will stay." The cage closes in.
She begins to panic. She doesn’t like being trapped, just like the original, but unlike her she won’t be rescued. Panic settles in. “Is it really worth it?” she thinks for a brief moment. “I am a replica; my sole purpose is to die so that the original can live on. I will not fail!” she says with determination.
The cage forms itself complete, the dream, her part in the dream, has run its course. The only thing that remains is Grief.
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 4:29 am
Post 1 - Inoke Nalu
One moment he had been checking over Natt and tying to talk some sense into Am, the next the little dormouse was hugging them both … and then everything was broken by a strange voice echoing in his head and glass shattering all around them. Then it was all gone. He couldn’t see Natt or Am, any of the other’s who’d been having their own issues around them.
It was just the Queen telling him it was over, that he would be stuck there forever and that was his purpose.
“No … I have to stop you … stop this.”
He wouldn’t be the one stuck alone this time. It would be ‘Land. Panic ate at him for a moment as the fear clutched him that he should have been the one to die too then it started to fade. What did it matter anyway? Arland had other friends; he would grieve for a bit then get over it. It wasn’t as if they’d been that close.
Am and Natt, they didn’t really know him so why would they even remember he’d been there with them? Would it matter if they wouldn't ever find each other outside this dream? Maybe it was for the best he hadn't figured out who they were since they wouldn't have to mourn for him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, unable not to give into the tendrils tugging at him.
Then a door opened, the door, and snap. Everything was broken again and the puppets that he and the others had been so terrified of, the puppets of them, marched out of the door come to life just as they’d said they would.
Fear clutched at him again. He could remember ALICE’s words. The puppets where there to replace them. To take over for them once they were lost to the game.
ALICE had been right. The puppets were there to take over for them. He would be lost forever to this twisted game and the puppet … him … would go on. Maybe it would go back to Deus and no one would know the difference. It would just take over where he’d failed.
As he stood there staring at the puppet it smiled and reached out, hand settling on his shoulders. “It’s okay. You’ve given me everything I need to be able to do this for you. So let me. I got this.”
It was too late to protest before he realized what was happening, before he was engulfed in flames from an exact copy of his own weapon. There was no heat though, no pain. He was just gone.
kuroopu
Enoh love
+Skye Starrfyre"
Grymoire
Dapper Lunatic
Offline
Grymoire
Dapper Lunatic
Offline
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 4:41 am
Post 2 - Replica DrgnZ0rd
When the strings had come loose, when the door had opened, he knew he was finally free to do what he’d meant to do. There weren’t any clouds in his mind anymore, at least none that weren’t the memories that gave him power.
Past, present, future …
All of it had been given to him so that he could fulfil his purpose. So he could take the strands and use them to lock the Queen up again.
Inoke Nalu had given this power to him.
He could save him.
It was easy enough to find Inoke though the crowds of people and puppets. After all they were tied together and all he had to do was follow the threads of memories that were now also his own and he was standing in front of the young man. The young man who had such bright potential if he’d just stop thinking he couldn’t do anything on his own.
He watched the fear blossom in Inoke’s eyes before he reached out, hand settling on his creator’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You’ve given me everything I need to be able to do this for you.” He could do it, Inoke, could do it. If only he’d understand that he had done this himself, no one’s help. “So let me. I got this.”
And he did have it. Even as he destroyed Inoke’s presence here, sent him away so that he would be the one to fade and not Inoke, he had it.
Everything Inoke had given him made him strong enough to be able to take on the Queen.
IF only INoke would remember that he hadn’t needed anyone’s help to do this.
He was strong
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 5:33 am
[ ROUND 2 Reply to DrgnZ0rd (Grymoire) & DarklingFox (Wyntre IceBlade) - HP 10/ 40 HP ]
Another mirror blocked her way, the rabbit girl wanted to destroy it at once, they were all traps, making them suffered for the sake of the Queen. She raised her weapon, want to smack at the mirror before it showed any traumatic scene but stopped by the happy smiling man inside it. It wasn't Robert or anyone she knew, just a stranger. It was like a warm cozy home that everyone would look forward to, but he was alone. Her head was in the mid-air, together with her pike as she tried to figure out if what the mirror showed were unwanted future. This one didn't seem to be unpleasant. Even though he was alone, he enjoyed it in a very ease-up state. Her hesitation put her in a retarded mode, so when the flame licked at her, she wasn't fast enough to respond. The mirror broke, revealing an angry face holding a flamethrower behind it. DrgnZ0rd was glaring at her, or maybe where the mirror was. The Mad Hatter didn't say a word but she knew he didn't mean to attack her so she gave him a weak smile despite of the pain from the burn.
The Queen was eviler than she could think of, she reminded her of another Queen - the Destruction. If she was the one who stayed, will they get a different story? She spaced out a while before she get involved in another mirror.
A beautiful silver white fox girl swinging her tails gently and aimlessly under the soft moonlight. There was, again, a grave in front of her and she was crying.The smile on her face was familiar, that was how she smiled when she recalled her beloved sisters, sad and wistful. She felt like dodging because she knew it was a trap for both of them, however, she found it hard to move her eyes from it. Therefore, she got hurt. The lance barely penetrate her if she wasn't nimble. Instead, she got a decent cut on her face close to her eye. Similar, she knew it wasn't her fault, so she smiled and warned. "Don't be sorry DarklingFox, it's not your fault at all but please be careful, these mirrors are traps."
Is there more to come?
Grymoire
HP remained: 20
Wyntre IceBlade
HP remained: 10
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.
There was a feeling of weightlessness. It was a feeling that Clopper was familiar with. That brief moment as life flashed before you before everything went dark. Only...the dark was not eternal.
Clopper slowly opened his eyes. Where there had been thousands of mirrors there were now none to be seen. They must have been shattered sometime during his period of unconsciousness. Other players who had (presumably) been knocked out were also starting to get up. That was good. It meant that there were no fatalities...yet.
Where the White Queen had stood there was now nothing but a fading shadow of her.; and in her absence something much more sinister was happening around him. Tendrils, slender but indescribably strong were intertwining around the players. It was ethereal, beautiful and...horrifying.
The vines were now constricting around him but oddly enough, Clopper felt no pain. There was nothing but the numb realization that he’d never be able to escape his fate. He’d be trapped...forever.
SNAP
Clopper’s ears perked up at the sound of the cage shattering. What was happening now? Were they being rescued? If so, he must definitely NOT be left behind. Pulling himself out of his stupor, Clopper cried out weakly. “Don’t leave me, please!”
”I won’t’”
A voice, so eerily familiar and yet so strange. Clopper felt his eyes widen at the being before him. “Y-You are me!” exclaimed Clopper.
”I am you,’ agreed the being with a smile as he pulled Clopper to his feet. Where Clopper was insecure, the other was sure; where Clopper was faltering in his confusion, the other was steadfast in his resolution.
”Thank you. For the memories, the feelings and...the sentient awareness you have shared with me,” said the figure with a sad smile. “And now...goodbye ,”
There was a brief glint of cold steel and Clopper shuddered. “Why...?” the white rabbit gasped as the dagger embedded itself into his midsection. But there was no pain. Only the sensation of slowly slipping consciousness.
”Goodbye,” said the figure again. And then he smiled.
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 5:53 am
Post One: Gwenyfarh
“You will stay. I will stay.”
The words sent chills racing down Gwenyfarh’s back. And all too soon, tiny as she was, she felt as if she were being squeezed out of existence as her cage closed in on her. She could hear the Queen still muttering about staying. And now she could feel the Queen reaching out for her, trying to drag her into hateful oblivion.
Just as she gave herself up as lost, she heard a loud, sharp snapp. Silver eyes flew open as the cage not only opened, but shattered. Blinking, she felt her memories flooding back. Felt herself flooding back. Immediately, Gwenyfarh began to tremble. So close. Too close. She had been mere inches from being snuffed out like a candle. Rubbing at her arms to try and convince herself that she was still real and still alive, she missed seeing the door open.
What she didn’t miss was the veritable flood of puppets pouring through. Some were familiar. Were they doubles? How?
“What,” she began to ask, only to be interuppted by hands seizing her own and drawing her close. Glancing up, she was confronted by silver eyes identical to her own set within a small face framed by fluffy, white hair. Gwenyfarh would have thought she was staring into a mirror if it weren’t for the firm grip puppet!her had.
Speaking urgently, the puppet said, "I know everything. All your memories, everything you've gained in this dream. I am your container."
Gwenyfarh wanted to ask for an explanation, but the look on intense concentration stilled her tongue. So instead,she nodded as if she understood any of this craziness going on around them. The puppet smiled and pulled her into a quick hug before letting her go, reaching out to tuck an errant bit of hair back behind Gwenyfarh’s ear.
“It’ll be all right, little bat,” the puppet spoke quickly. “You’re strong, remember? Well, I’m strong too. All because of you. So… thank you.”
With another smile, the puppet suddenly looked sad, but resolute. She held up an identical copy of the batwing bow and lashed it out at Gwenyfarh. “And good-bye.”
For all the bladed looking bits of the bow, it didn’t hurt at all as it came slicing through Gwenyfarh’s chest, piercing her heart. She felt herself crumpling up, limbs folding just like a puppet who’d lost it’s strings. Well, she thought distantly, that only makes sense. With a small sigh, she closed her eyes and simply gave in as death came for her. It wasn’t scary or painful. She simply felt herself fading away peacefully.
eldritch stardust
Kawaii Prophet
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eldritch stardust
Kawaii Prophet
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Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 5:54 am
Post Two: Replica Version - IttyBittyBatty
IttyBittyBatty watched as Gwenyfarh crumpled and then faded, heart pierced by her duplicate. She would be safe now. She would have a chance.
Well, the copy thought. Let’s do this thing. Drawing on Gwenyfarh’s memories, the copy marveled at how strong her original truly was. It had been created with only one purpose in mind and thanks to the memories she’d been given, she would be able to perform flawlessly.
Ignoring the renewed voice of the White Queen, IttyBittyBatty watched dispassionately as the cage grew up around her and began to pull at the memories she had. With those memories came a certain sadness. So many experiences were locked away in the memories. So many things that she would never be able to do.
As the cage containing her closed in, more memories were pulled to the front before being ripped mercilessly away. Gwenyfarh as a child. Learning to fly. Birthday parties and friends. This was what the White Queen would have stolen had the copy not been there. All these precious feeling and memories would have been wiped out for good.
Yes. It was best this way, the copy thought as the last memory was ripped away. For all that her existence was too brief, it had served a noble purpose. It had protected these memories and the one that they truly belonged to. Really. It was enough.
Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 6:10 am
Post One: HotTea42 (Arland)
There was a distinct *click* that came from the pile of puppet sprawled out on the floor. His strings tightened and limbs that had lost life came together again, drawing him back to his feet. His mind was clouded for a moment as he tried to think about what had happened, but only one thing worked its way to the front.
I don't want to be buried in a pet cemetery...
It was a song by the Ramones; one that he was familiar with enough to be tempted to sing along. It was odd, but fitting, to have it in his thoughts right now.
... I don't want to live my life again.
So fitting. He had died, or deactivated or whatever it was. He had ended his play time in Wonderland and not a single part of him had wanted to be rezzed this time. There was too much pain... Too much suffering... Too much...
Grief.
"I will take your essence, your memories and make them mine. You will stay."
Nothing about that Promise of Grief sounded good. This was not how it was supposed to end. It should have ended with that last thought; with the happy ending. That was how it was supposed to end.
Arland began to panic as the cage began to close in, puppet heart thundering as he fumbled for his weapon, ready to fight to find death how he wanted it again. He began to fade, the edges of himself pulling apart, becoming nothing, becoming the cage...
*SNAP*
Just like that it was gone and the Door was there. The Door brought with it another round of panic. He knew that door, remembered what was on the other side. ALICE and her CLONES were on the other side. Terror struck up anew and he tried to scramble away only to find himself face to face with HotTea42. It was him completely from the tribal tattoos along the side of his face covering scars that he'd had since he was still in school; still a child. It had his dark, soulful eyes and lazy, somehow reassuring grin.
"I know everything," he heard himself say, and if he hadn't seen the marionette's lips move he would have thought it was all in his head. "All your memories, everything you've gained in this dream. I am your container."
He tried to make sense of it, having so many questions, so many fears. He wasn't given time to act on them, however, as he soon found a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the marionette leaned in. "Thank you..." Its voice was soft in his ear as it lulled him into a sense of security. "... And goodbye"
It seemed to have better knowledge of the shield weapon than he had. Instead of bashing him with it, the replica, his replacement, used the jagged edges to slice through his middle, sending him falling back to the ground.
He rose again to be consumed, twined by grief that coiled around him like a serpent and its prey; the irony of it was not lost on him. A sorrow and a suffering that would swallow him alive not mercifully crush and then imbibe. There was something dreadfully unfair about that, to have had for a moment found peace and pushed away the guilt to be wrenched back with a click and a reset. For a moment to wonder if you were trapped here to die again a hundred times over just to be pulled back to life with a small twitch of the puppeteers strings.
“I will stay!” Her voice booms through the heaviness, the grief and the apathy that crushes out of him any thoughts of escape or struggle. He will fade, and the world will be better for it because he knows in the grip of these thorns, the truth that he was never worth it. He will be made into something greater as the cage crushes him, every thorn his own doubts, every scratch the sureness of others judgments.
The world begins to fade… and he can only watch, he is afraid, terrified to know that he is dwindling out like a candle eating away the last of its wick, doomed to drown in the very pool of melted wax it created.
The cage shatters, like a great mirror it bursts apart and begins once more to draw its scattered fragments together again. It’s a brief tumult, but for that moment, like waking in his dorm and gasping for the evening air out of the clutches of his nightmare for that brief moment, he is free of that dragging sorrow.
There is a door, slowly, inevitably it swings open, and the ground trembles as though the world itself holds a great tense breath of anticipation.
He sees them then, hundred and hundreds of puppets, moving in lock step with faces far too animated to ever put him at ease. They are alive, so terribly alive and so awfully familiar. He sees Davie there, He sees the young ghoul who is turning to stone that they both wished to see make it free of this awful place. He sees familiar door mice and Cheshire cats that he saw fall, or swing at mirrors not moments before.
Daring to glance away he sees the truth, they are copies, truly copies and they are coming. He turns back…and sees himself. It is not a gross mockery of himself, it is not overly perfect or arrogant, it perhaps a little sad, gazing at him with those vivid eyes and wild feathers in its hair. It’s him, well and truly him and for a terrible moment he knows, just knows that it will take his place in the school itself somehow, and no one will know.
“I know everything,” it tells him, or he tells himself perhaps. It’s strange to hear his own voice, like the pitch isn’t correct because it isn’t from his own mouth and resonating in his own head.
“All your memories, everything you’ve gained in this dream. I am your container.”
The words are brief yet certain.
He should say something, he should tell Davie thank you for offering his hand, to the the others who he traveled with, to … himself.
“Thank you” it says. With those words he is briefly afraid again, and it grows when he sees it take out a weapon, a serpent twined about a pole, feathered wings outspread and reaching towards a golden sun. It does not hesitate; it holds no doubt in its face when it shifts the haft in its grip as though considering the now familiar weight. “And goodbye.”
He would not have thought that the outspread wings could slice so cleanly into him, surely it’s broken ribs or more, leaving only one wing visible protruding from his chest. He knows only shock, no pain, not this time. He is only a puppet, a toy whose time has ended.
My character's username: Mimsy 
