The Wall still needed Simmy's help. She knew as much, even without the whispers, knew just from looking that they would need every bit of help that they could get, because that was exactly how it felt. It was something more bricklike that found its way into her hands this time, rectangular and carrying the label of something called 'Clark County General'.
She was pleased with herself for locating its proper place until the pride was replaced by curiosity. Was that blood? Was she okay? She seemed okay, but the two on the floor...they didn't. They never moved, not once, not even when the numbers changed and the man entered the room.
He asked what she'd done, and Simmy stared at the woman, waiting for her answer. There was no answer. Not once, not even when he explained things to her very carefully, asked her if she could understand.
-
Her circadian rhythm had lost its pulse, and she had now spent four days, seven hours, and twenty-three minutes in a single one day cycle if episodes of microsleep were exempted.
It all might have seemed counter-intuitive less than a week ago, but there was no other answer now. When presented with the options of facing Kostya or facing the void of control that existed in her dreams, she wanted neither, so she skipped out on both in their entirety. This was achievable. She could simply work on more pressing topics until it resolved itself, because that was how humans worked, wasn't it?
She didn't really think that, but she could pretend. A last-ditch effort of make-believe was her only hope.
Four days, seven hours, and twenty-three minutes since she'd slept, filled to the burst with numbers and letters and brackets and parentheses and alpha, beta, theta and she wasn't going to think about emotions when all of this needed to be solved, too much work to be done, much too much work to be done.
She stopped writing (on the wall, the second wall, as she'd already filled the top of the table she hid under, the first wall, and a section of the floor) and wiped at her brow with her arm, but what should have felt like the fabric of a coat or clammy skin against clammy skin felt more like soft gauze padding. She lowered her arm to drop her pen, noticed the bandage, remembered the darkness of claws and teeth and tentacles enveloping her, and felt her empty stomach lurch. How had she forgotten? The circular brand had nearly gotten infected all on its own, and she'd forgotten to change the bandage for over four days when the skin had been torn away from it?
Frowning, she picked at the edge of the gauze until it began to unravel, the thin fabric dropping into loose, rust-colored coils around her arm. She could see that the skin beneath was tender, but didn't appear to be healing improperly; she sighed and hooked her finger around a piece closer to her wrist, tugging until...
She felt sick again, could hear her heartbeat in her ears, felt herself sway unsteadily, and she swallowed bile as her hand found her mouth. It was healing, healing fine, healing into a permanent reminder of...oh. Her panicked gaze had flickered to the wall she'd been writing on in hopes of locating the best place to lean against, and she'd found it everywhere instead, scribbled in the place of variables like an obsession, a sickness. She hadn't looked beneath this bandage, had she? No, she must have. It was statistically impossible for this to be coincidental. She just...just couldn't remember. It made perfect sense if she added to the pile atop that last-ditch effort of make-believe, but adding into onto the pile made it feel unstable, and she couldn't handle the things at the bottom, not with this on her skin.
A slow, deep breath didn't help, and a second made her feel dizzy, and all she could do was sit barefoot on the floor beneath a laboratory table with her eyes fixated on the wrist that had once carried the brand of a circle, now crookedly crossed out and distinctly similar to his signature.
She wanted to get rid of it.
She had many conflicting theories and connections and something she might even label 'sentiments' about him but no matter the outcome, she didn't want to look like she was his, like she'd managed some warped version of tattooing a first boyfriend's name in a place of high visibility. She wanted to scrub at her arm with steel wool until all of it was unrecognizable, to chop it off, gnaw through bone like a trapped animal (maybe a cake instead, something suggested) but...she had plenty of cakes. Too many cakes.
Resignation tempted her, and as badly as she wanted to give in and take its hand, she had to keep moving. She'd just have to find another way. She would keep moving without solving a formula or creating confections and she would never close her eyes again.
Because sleep carried another danger now.
-
The Goddess was there, and Simmy couldn't remember, but she was sure if she could she would never have felt more relieved.
Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 6:40 pm
usb or vhs one of those
(saved for Iron)
Toshihiko Two
Sugary Marshmallow
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Sexy Cocaine
Greedy Guest
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Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 6:40 pm
That time again, was it?
Time to build the wall, because the wall kept them safe.
Though, Yiro could not be completely sure what the wall kept them safe from anymore. Certainly not emotions. If she wasn't enraged by something, she was sad. If she wasn't sad... She was completely numb, which might've been worse than the two aforementioned combined.
A VHS tape. It looked enough like a brick, didn't it? Yes, this would serve as excellent protection. It even included the word 'security'. Couldn't get any better than that.
Yes, this object was made to become part of the wall. There was a perfect receptacle for it next to the old glass screen.
Oh, was it movie time? Yiro couldn't remember ever watching any movies, but she knew of them at least.
It appeared that whatever kind of movie this was, it was nowhere close to a happy one. The shadow's expression became bleak when her gaze met the woman's, a sort of unspoken understanding between them. Why? Why were you so sad, mysterious lady? What had they done to you? Or, what had you done to yourself? When the man reared his ugly head, Yiro's gaze narrowed He was so... Nonchalant. About everything, really. It wasn't until she looked away that Yiro gasped.
She had been there.
The screen flickered, ants marching across the screen for mere seconds until a similar scenario played out.
This person was her, and she had almost the same expression.
"You... The whole time?" Her figure squeaked out to a man laying on the ground just feet away from her. They had fallen from the tree, only he had been a cat moments before they met with the ground.
All the safety and security she had built up around her, and he had snuck through a tiny crack, stealing all her secrets. Months of coddling and gentle affection had lead up to a devastation she never even saw coming.
Riyo had never felt so violated.
And while it had been a devastating moment, the raw emotion that embodied such a strong memory shook her. It made her realize just how emotional of a being she truly was, and how everything she did was for specific reasons.
"That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again."
Yiro didn't look away as the goddess overtook the screen. What paranoia wants, paranoia gets, and as her arms assimilated with the shadow's skull, she could feel something leaving her.
Then there was nothing. Only a plain message with bars behind it.
For another day, the wall would keep them safe.
Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 6:58 pm
She'd been carried back here again. With hands still over her heart she was feeling extra vulnerable and felt like she may need its protection. But could the wall keep her safe from that? From before she had one sense and one sense only. Build it. Again she searched for anything nearby she could use to assist in the building. She needed it, she needed to be safe. Needed the protection.
It was glowing, practically calling for her as she moved a hand down to grab it. Heavy. An object so small felt heavy in her hands as she moved back to the wall to find its place. Raking her hand across the mixture of pieces she could feel the random bits strewn together. Mel'ae gazed upwards and it seemed to grow endlessly into the sky. Her head banged against a monitor and she looked at it, noticing a hole in the side.
Looking back down at the metal part of the small stick she shoved it in, blinking as she picked up a humming sound. Everything was a blur and her eyes could barely keep up with the monitors. She rubbed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Her ears acted like a homing device and she looked at the blonde woman, staring curiously at the screen. "Trial?" She repeated, her eyes glued to the screen.
The redhead formed from nothing and Mel'ae found it curious and she touched the monitor curiously, only to step back as he unformed completely. "What?!" She said quietly with a gasp. A distinct failure... She focused on the words. Suddenly a burst of light from each screen that her eyes could barely keep sight of the screens. Each one was more graphic than the next with the man forming and bursting, falling apart, limbs sliding off- it was sickening and the blond woman just kept going.
It all went black and she moved back slowly, curiously, before it all came back to life nearly making her jump. Her again. Mel'ae frowned and watched him form again, this time better off, breathing and without his mouth sliding off of his face. She tilted her head curiously back and fourth watching the pleasant exchange of words before he went away and she seemed happy. "Huh."
A spark of life touched the monitors and she was stopped in her tracks, watching... herself? A young girl had fallen in the mud, older and alone. No one was helping her, no one could. She looked scared. Mel'ae touched the monitor lightly. Inside she was struggling, screaming, before finally finding her way.
Another monitor told the story of a girl losing someone important. Standing in the doorway alone to fade away to a different time. Growing up, surviving, hunting. Each monitor told a different story of the same girl. Mel'ae was smiling, she felt... peaceful.
It ended abruptly under the call of the Goddess, her eyes boring down into her and her core fluttered slightly. Mel'ae felt small, tiny under her booming words and could not get a word in edgewise. It happened quickly and she was in her hand, squirming a little. She saw it, she knew it - she'd done things by herself, found hope in little things. It tightened and suddenly the hopeful feeling she had was ripped away and replaced by a sense of dependency.
She shuddered and held herself, stepping away from the giant blue screen of death. "Only through you." She held the words on her tongue and repeated them again. She was faltering slightly and began to move away from it. Protected still? Felt like it, and that was the only hope she had.
kuumeii
Snarky Hunter
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Zoobey Artist
Magical Incubator
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Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 7:05 pm
If you listen closely, you can hear the gentle whispering of a Goddess slipping across tendrils of fog. "The Wall," Protection (Paranoia) urges, "...build it higher. Take whatever you can find and build. The Wall is safety. Terrible things await you, only the Wall keeps them at bay."
Near the Wall you can see figures coming in from other areas, carrying and dragging material to build up the wall with. Others are scaling it, fixing things just so until their forms still and grow slightly vacant.
The structure of the Wall looms impossibly high above, an ominous structure that makes you feel small. The structure of the Wall crouches low, barely even a few feet, offering little protection. The Wall is an orderly pattern of brick and stone. The Wall is a random heap of debris. The Wall is still, it is just a wall. The Wall is shifting to stare down at you in silent hunger.
You begin your task by searching for materials...
Today's items:
A Friendship Bracelet
The bracelet is pretty thing of rainbow knots, bright against the grim backdrop of the Ruins. The sight of it fills you with something warm, something hopeful. A plastic mannequin, partially buried under office equipment, sticks out a bit at the Wall, one hand out-stretched. It seems a fairly obvious home to place your prize, and it slips neatly over the fingers and onto the wrist. There's a sudden, painful pressure as the hand swiftly comes to life and grabs onto your own.
You look down and the Wall is gone. Overhead is the brilliant, fiery orange of sunset, the night's darkness only just creeping in at the corners. You are in a field that stretches far into the horizon, and as the hand slips from your own, you see hundreds, thousands, more like it reaching for you.The multitude is so thick and demanding that you can barely see the ground. You grab at one and pull, only to have it go limp just as you put all your strength and will into the action. Your determination flares and you reach for another, only for it to shatter at the barest graze of your fingers. One by one and two by two, you try and hold on, but in the end the hands drop, and crumble, and drift away as ashes in the wind until finally you are standing in a field. You are alone and night has settled over the world.
You reach into the darkness.
Nothing reaches back.
You awake from a nightmare and find yourself in another. It's one from your own life, a dream that leaves you haunted and anxious as you wake once more, this time to the Goddess kneeling over your body with a gentle expression. "You need rest, you give so much and still they would plague you." She caresses your brow and slides her hand over your eyes, closing them. "That's enough for now."
You wake up some time later, and stare up at the Wall. The nightmare is gone, but in it's place a thought suddenly becomes very clear...
A wall does not protect, a wall can only buy you time.
An Alarm Clock
It appears rather broken, but an alarm seems like a good idea. Maybe it could warn everyone of coming danger? You find a small shelf to place it on, and as soon as it touches the surface, the alarm rings loudly in your ear.
Groaning softly you wake up, beside you comes a sound of protest, a woman's voice complaining softly as strong arms tighten around you. You laugh and reason, she squeezes again before letting go. You say your goodbyes and give your gentle reassurances, and soon you're staring back crimson hair tumbling softly over white cotton. One last glance and then you're shutting off the lights and leaving the room.
The hallways are quiet so late-early, and you don't meet anyone on your way. It's a relief, really, not to have to hide the excitement and anxiety coiled within you as you make your way down to the labs. The single pod station and golem staging area have already been set up. You initiate the program without bothering to record, this was more than simply too personal and if you failed here...well. All records of the 8-type Golems would be destroyed in a matter of hours, if it came to that. No one would need to know. Taking a deep breath, you sit down in the pod and lay back as it initializes.
You wake moments later and sit up on the cold metal table. You're naked and uncomfortable, but overall the body feels right. It feels like it's yours. You've tested this a dozen times over, and still...still it's a relief. Turning, you look at your other body, the original, laying in peaceful fragility within the pod. Getting up, you walk to stand over it. Apathy fills you at the sight, but resentment soon follows. Reaching down you lift one of it's limp arms and slide a thick metal cuff off the wrist and onto your own. The weight of it is reassuring, though Raeg doesn't bother speaking to you.
He hasn't for quite some time.
You lift your hands to caress the sleeping face, and trace your fingers down it's neck. Finally, in a motion that feels entirely too nostalgic, you twist. A neck snaps so very easily with these hands, and you make a mental note to take even greater care with your strength. You can't have anyone noticing the change, not this soon. It takes a moment to realize you aren't dead. That the 8-Type is a success and you are now, nominally, immortal.
You need never lose anyone again and they will never lose you.
You don't realize you're crying until you begin to absently wipe off the tears that have dropped onto your old face. Sniffing, you give yourself a wry smile and prepare to dispose of the body.
The alarm goes off again, and this time you experience a time in your life where you were presented with a great risk. When it ends, you hear the Goddess's voice whispering in your ear, "Was it worth it?" Standing over you, her fingers gently trace the line of your face, then down to wrap around your neck. "Will it be worth what you'll face? You've come so far but..." The pressure of her hands becomes painful, and she leans closer, "If you rise too high, you'll be above my protection." Her hands burn as the pull the memory from you, leaving you branded and empty.
The Wall keeps all the terrible things at bay, but it also traps you within.
A Cellphone
Its screen is cracked and there's some suspicious staining on the cover, but the phone is such an oddity you can't help but pick it up. As you walk to the Wall, it begins to ring. You answer it without thinking, and the voice on the other end is familiar. "Hey, I need you to come down to the labs, I've got a bit of mess here." The voice sounds light-hearted and a bit chagrined. You look up and you are walking down a pristine white hallway. Your pace is swift but not enough to draw attention. Entering a door, you find yourself confronted with the sight of a blonde woman kneeling over the bloody, mangled pieces of a body.
She looks at you and with a crooked little smile, "He found out. I can make a replacement, but I'll need some time and..." She flushes and gives a wry laugh, "It really is a mess." There's large slashes across her face and torso, but even as you reach toward her, you can see the blood moving back into the wounds. Soon the flesh heals over and she's perfect once again, right down to the pristine white of her coat. "Thank you," and this time it is the Goddess, in all her hungry-eyed warmth, that smiles at you.
At the back of her neck, you see thin traceries of grey twisting and lengthening along her skin. You very carefully say nothing.
The phone rings again, and it's a different voice. You live through a phone call from your previous life, one that lingered and stayed with you over time. When you hang up, you are at the Wall and the Goddess gently takes the phone from your hand, and the call from your mind. "You understand don't you? Why it had to be done?" Her expression shifts from empty to something of terrible power. "Yes, of course you do." This world is insanity and fog, but within the face of the Goddess you behold the true depth of the madness that twists and corrupts everything it touches.
Looking up, you can finally see there is no Wall. There is only the Goddess, staring inward and through you from a thousand eyes and avatars.
Side Blessing Get!
In return for your work and what she took, the Goddess leaves you with something else as well:
the ooc
These are all basically writing prompts to explore your character's experiences and memories and are entirely optional!
Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 7:24 pm
It's old. Analogue instead of digital. Minute hands instead of digits. Bell instead of a harsh electronic buzz. Nonetheless: Licraesa holds it, gingerly. With the utmost of respect. The objects of the Goddess are to be treasured. She holds it close to her heart, and lets it sit there, to ensure it's still beating. She feels it being removed, sometimes, a phantom pain that--
Licraesa sets the clock down, and it slides into place. It is at home, in the wall. The wall is just a wall. The alarm bell-
You wake up. Surrounded by cotton and strong arms, holding you tight as you try to move. You smile, indulgent, but do not stop. She murmurs quietly, more to herself more than to you, that she wishes you would stay. No reply. You press a kiss to her temple, laughing a soft huff. Her grip loosens in reply, wrapping around a pillow instead. You slide out from between the white sheets (on a white bed in a white room, your own décor, perfectly clean-)
Before you leave: run your fingers through her hair. She doesn't stir. It's early and there's no one around in the corridors. It's early and the sun is not up. It's early and the coffee isn't brewed. It's early and you are safe to show your true colours. You smile and it is red, you smile and it is edges, you smile and it's from ear to ear. You smile and enter the labs: it is all arranged, just so. To your exact specifications, by the only person you trust: You, yourself, and you part two.
The labs are a second home, a first home, the most important place you could ever be. Your place by her side is second to your place -- well. No point in jinxing yourself, no one's here to buy you a coke. Days of work turned to weeks turned to months turned to years. It is redundant to say you've been waiting for so long, but oh, how you have.
The pod awaits you.
Everything is in its right place. You do not hit record. You do not offer your arm to the wolves of the -- Division should you perish. You may not succeed but no one else would benefit from your failures: you've made sure of that.
Eagerly, you enter the pod (the last time you will ever do so, you take a moment to respect it, to respect what is coming) and close your eyes and there is barely enough time for two blinks before you wake up on the table. You are naked, you are cold. You are in the right body. You are in the right skin, an impermeable one. Any damage to it will not last long enough to matter, any damage to it will not remove you from this mortal coil.
Rolling over on the table, you look at your discarded shell. It is a sack of delicate, inconsequential meat. It is a liability. It is vulnerable to attack and not strong enough to save the ones you --. You distance yourself emotionally before you realise that your back is up against a wall and there's no further you can go. You are cold and you are clinical and you know that it is time.
A scowl at the original. Approaching it, you remove the cuff that belongs on your wrist. You make it so, its weight heavy and familiar and a little bit of relief. Your weapon does not respond, nor do you expect him to. A security blanket, albeit a heavy one.
Lifting your new, wonderful hand, you caress the sleeping face. She is beautiful but she is inferior. She is beautiful but she is no longer who you are. You have the same eyes/lips/nose/mouth, but you will never fail your -- ones ever again.
There is only one thing left to do. It fills you with a sense of blasé nostalgia, and you remove her connection to this world of the living with one swift twist. How easy you manage it is a proof of concept in and of itself.
Your old body is dead but you are alive. You are immortal. You are like unto a god. With the realisation comes tears of joy/elation/hope/relief, not of sorrow/regret/guilt. A fine distinction to make.
You prepare the body for disposal. It is a corpse, and you know how to deal with corpses. It all goes well until the alarm bell-
--
"Come then little one, accept your fate."
You look up at her and she is a --, a malevolent being, a darkness on all life. You are going to die here, you think, but there are three others you can save if you just distract her. She is ferocious and has killed once twice a thousand times.
She is ferocious and she disappears into feathers. Claws cut through her clothing, claws tear through her sides. A blade cripples her leg, forcing a crouched position. A swirling mass of feathers descend upon you and you are down for the count. A one two three hit ko. You are out of this fight, you are out of your league, you are out of your weight class.
You went out on a limb to save your friends and for what?
For nothing. Blackness seeps in.
--
Licraesa steps back from the wall, wringing her hands.
"Was it worth it?" she asks, her Goddess beseeches. Strong hands hold her face, her neck, her life itself. It was not so scary when it was the Goddess, she thinks. A memory of heart-removal is overwritten with this. This is safe. She would be a willing offering to the Goddess, for she trusts in her judgement.
"No," Licraesa says, a soft exhalation.
"Will it be worth what you'll face? You've come so far but...If you rise too high, you'll be above my protection."
Licraesa does not respond, because she does not remember she has been spoken to. Licraesa does not respond, because her Goddess has vanished. Licraesa does not respond, and the wall is just a wall is just a wall is just a cage.
He was up and ready to help build the wall again. It stood for protection. But more importantly, she wanted it built. That was reason enough.
He searched for something that would fit a wall nicely. It was shoddy, and would probably break under pressure, but it was the right shape. That was going to have to do, for now.
He shoved the tape into the wall -
Clark County General Security Zone 3 05/19/2008 12:24am-7:02am
His hand immediately pressed on the face that flickered onto the screen. He remembered that face. Didn't he? Something, there was something..
No. He couldn't possibly know someone who looked so weak.
When time stopped on the forwarding, he flickered his gaze at the hooded man. Now that, he recognized. It was - it was - No, he had it. Somewhere, in his mind, he'd just had it..
...But the ability to create life... That isn't yours.. not any longer and not ever again...
Something stirred and tightened in his stomach when he heard those words. He pressed both of his hands down against it, holding it as if to push the pain away. Something clawed, as if angered by the hooded mans words.
But when he saw the look on her face, the absolute despair, the only pain that he could feel anymore was the one that throbbed his heart.
He slid down to his knees, and suddenly he was in an alley. The rain beat down hard on his skin, hiding his tears. He'd lost them. Both. Not just one, but both. He knew that, now. He'd lost both of the girls he loved, because he couldn't choose. He dropped down to the dirty, wet ground of the alley, and prayed for someone to end his life there. To reach out, and pull his breaking heart out.
And then she did.
When he opened his eyes again, the tears were still wet like raindrops on his skin, but he couldn't remember why. All he knew, all he saw was the goddess.
That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again.
He wanted to thank her, but all he could do was cry.
Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 9:39 pm
Shaw watched the computer screens, a frown creasing his brow. The man was sitting up, talking, but how-
And suddenly it all changed, and he was looking at another man, a man intimately familiar, going about his life. The man, at an altar with a woman in white. The man carrying her through the door of their first home. The man, in hospital scrubs, holding the woman's hand as she cradled something in her arms. He was overwhelmed at first, then slowly began to internalize it, finally focusing on the story told by one of the many screens, a story that came much later -
shaW sat, cross-legged on his bed, staring at his nightstand thoughtfully.
He opened the drawer and slid out his Bible.
In it were tucked a wreath of little papers, haphazardly; he ignored them, instead turning the pages in chunks, looking for something... Ah. He slid a small envelope out of its pages, turning it over in his hands.
Denise Becker
Following the carefully inscribed name was an address. There was no return label, but a small stamp had already been placed. It was ready to mail, and, judging by the worn edges, had been so for some time.
shaW He didn't have to open the envelope to know what was inside. He buried his face in his hands. It would always hurt, he knew. Deep down, the what-ifs and coulda-beens - they would never really go away. But-
He glanced to the floor, at the heels that rested where she'd kicked them off. To the hose draped over the lone chair, so that they wouldn't run. To her books, stacked neatly beside his. Her keepsakes on the dresser. To the million little ways she'd marked her place; sweet, subtle notations, bookmarks and folded pages that seemed to make the days move fast and the nights slow.
The little, fragile life they'd begun to carve together.
He smiled, and dried his eyes. His heart swelled, and for the first time in a long time, he realized he was content.
With strong, sure movements, he tore up the letter.
Sometimes, it was time to let go.
Click.
The screens all went out at once, and before he could react, the face of the Goddess was there, looming over him, reaching for him, and he was trapped in her powerful grip -
The memories parted from him slowly, like sticky taffy, and he was left feeling dizzy and cold. The monitors flickered blue one by one, and he shivered. As soon as he was able, he clambered to his feet and stumbled away.
Ravvlet
Hygienic Waffles
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chiickadee
Princess Hoarder
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Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 9:57 pm
The wall called her to build once more. The goddess, ever present, stood and watched as she built. The structure was already to the point of omniscience. The goddess beside it, omnipotent.
Ying? Nothing. Tiny. Prey.
A cellphone seemed fitting for her donation. It wasn't large, it wasn't particularly useful. The screen was cracked, it felt rough under her fingertips. She walked calmly to the wall, seeing the perfect hole to put it in. It would be her addition. Perfect.
Riiiing.
She looked around, wondering where the noise was coming from before realizing it was in her hands. She didn't quite know what to do, but after a bit of experimenting, she found that the closer she held it to her face, the more noise it made. Finally she figured out that it was supposed to go near her ears to listen.
"Hey, I need you to come down to the labs, I've got a bit of mess here."
Igny turned around. There were no labs here. Just a great wall.
She looked at the phone, then back up. The wall had disappeared, replaced with a long white hallway. She was once more not herself, but another. Igny knew the floating feeling to be her bystander position. She arrived at the end of the hallway to find the woman with a mangled body. Igny looked away, but the watcher did not.
"He found out. I can make a replacement, but I'll need some time and... It really is a mess."
Igny didn't understand. "What did he find out, miss?" Her question, of course, went unanswered. It wasn't her body to ask. She did, however, reach down to comfort the woman, who's face was gouged with a bloody red slash. It ... was healing. Much as Igny imagine it would. So she was a shadowling too? That was why she could heal, wasn't it?
It made no sense. The memory was convoluted, it didn't match up.
The phone rang once more. She ignored the goddess, picking it up, hoping to know more.
A woman's voice answered again, but it was different. Lighter somehow ... warmer. "No, no. Knead the clay more."
Looking up, Ying shook her head. "I ... I do not understand. I am kneading as m-much as I can, yet it crumbles. Tell me how you have such a mastery, Miss Lifen."
A wispy smile curled on the woman's lips. "You need more sand, little one. Less water. Feel the sand between your fingertips."
Ying blew the hair out of her face with a sigh. "All I am feeling is sand UNDER my fingertips. This is not pleasant, Miss Lifen." A bubbly laugh was the response she got. "I will never b-be as good as you," the tinier one said glumly, setting down the tiny flower she'd been creating in disgust.
Without a word, the larger one stood, wrapping her arms around Ying and putting the girl's fingers in place. "Like this." Together, they shaped a tiny flower with four petals, much like the one on Ying's cloak.
As a mother removing herself from the child's first bike ride, Lifen moved back, allowing Ying to shape her own flower. "See? You are not worthless Ying."
The words faded into a creamy background, Igny finding herself standing in front of the goddess and the wall once more. The goddess slipped the phone out of her tiny fingers, the memory gone with it. There was nothing but the goddess, no one else.
Yet Igny wasn't scared. She felt warm under the goddess' protection. Safe.
Perfect.
Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2013 12:02 am
Higher, higher still. The girl couldn't help but wonder just how much higher the wall needed to be, but she didn't dare question the goddess. And so, with the same obedience she had shown for the past two days, the girl went off to seek another contribution to the structure.
It didn't take her long to find something--it was small, but vibrantly colored, a strange object to find in a place as gray and grim as this. Snatching it up, she immediately began to search for a place for a wall where this could be placed, a task that took all of two seconds. For a moment, she jumped at the sight of an arm sticking out of the wall, but realized upon further inspection that it was merely a mannequin.
What else could it have been? She scolded herself, trying to shake the uneasiness off as she slipped the bracelet onto the mannequin's wrist.
The sudden pressure wrapping around her own wrist startled her, but before she could fully process what was happening, her surroundings abruptly shifted. The wall was the first thing that she noted was missing, and then everyone else who had been milling around. She stood in a field now, the sunset casting an orange glow over her and the hand that had snatched her. However, the hand had begun to loosen its grip, fingers slipping away and releasing her. Ixy's gaze followed it, and it was at that moment that she realized that there were more--many, many more.
Strangely enough, the sight didn't alarm her as much as it should have. On the contrary, she found herself reaching out and grasping at one, tugging at it as if she was trying to help someone up. Was there someone attached to this arm? She wasn't sure, and it didn't look like she was going to find out when the hand in her grip suddenly stilled and crumbled.
Well then, she would just have to try again.
And she did, over and over and over again, until night finally fell. Panting and still alone, the girl reached out, desperate to find some sort of company...
But she found none. Instead, she found herself in the middle of a field. She was the sole one standing, but she was not alone--not if you can count the number of bodies littering the ground. They were all familiar faces--friends, family, even friendly acquaintances that she had just talked to in the passing. Her heart raced in her chest, panic setting in when she crouched down beside one of the bodies.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she sees a flash of blue and--
--The Goddess' presence is calming, and she is so very grateful for it. Mutely, she nodded at her words, allowing her eyes to slide shut. The darkness is comforting--welcome, even.
When she opens her eyes and stares up at the wall again, she knows something is wrong. The wall can't keep it at bay forever--at some point, they would have to face it.
The only question was when.
Kaiyumi
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Avian Serpentine
Dapper Raider
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Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2013 12:24 am
Again, the goddess beckons, and here he stands, waiting to go build that wall once more. Was there really a point to build a wall that is already ridiculously tall? Decyl wasn’t sure, but he could only guess the goddess didn’t want to take the chance of it falling or being destroyed. And so, he picks up the friendship bracelet.
The hell is this?
Decyl stared at it, but was the bracelet locked itself around his wrist, he was spirited away. He wasn’t at the Wall anymore, instead, somewhere with a beautiful sunset. The place was spacious and free, and extremely terrifying with its huge population of hands. What in… Uncertain of the possibilities, he tried to pull at the hands, hoping to unearth something but not once did that happen. Instead, it fell limp, and there were even ones that eventually shattered into pieces. Slowly, more and more of the hands fade, eventually, leaving only him alone in this giant world. The sun has disappeared over the horizon, and all that greets him is night.
There were no stars, all there was is darkness. He tried to reach out, but nothing reached for him.
Decyl did not remember falling asleep, but as he awoke from the hellish nightmare, he was greeted by something else.
The last time she had closed the door to go for her errand. The one just before she had disappeared. It will forever terrify and haunt him, that door which now is forever sealed. He would see it occasionally as it slowly closes, himself running towards it. He never gets to it on time. He could never open it no matter how he tried. It simply remains shut.
He could feel the goddess’ gentle caress as she steals yet another memory. His eyes were shut, but again they open to see her gone. All that’s left is the Wall, just like the many times he had come here. He gave the Wall a stare, frowning slightly. Everything has a time for it to fall, and the Wall is no different.
Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2013 12:51 am
The world was turmoil.
Propelled mindlessly back to the Wall, Amity tried to tame the jostling memories. They roiled up in confusion--he had the flash of a school of fish brought up to the water's surface in his net, silver sides shining sudden in the beach sunlight and his sisters shrieking--and threatened him.
Having a self was terrifying. Having a self was vast and mighty. And his wasn't even whole. Maybe they did think they were doing him a favor, robbing him of this. But it was not their place to decide the limits of what he could handle.
Last time he was here he had wondered if the Wall could be scaled. He had spent days climbing over machinery and rusted buildings, over the wreckage of old hallways thick with history and over the scalding surfaces of a factory hellbent on destroying him.
He could, he thought, scale a Wall.
He wanted to see what they were keeping away. Maybe it was monsters. Maybe when he crested the Wall he would be swept down, picked off. He was willing to risk it. Maybe he wanted it.
He'd ditched Coyote again. He hadn't said goodbye, and more than ever this felt like the right thing to do.
He paused as something skittered away from his foot, and stooped to pick it up: a phone, broken and beaten. It rang, and without thinking--without registering--he slid his thumb across the screen and lifted it to his ear. "Hey, I need you to come down to the labs, I've got a bit of mess here."
White hallway. He remembered scissors, snick-snick.
So much blood. So much blood--hers and his, and just... every day, bloodsoaked, every one more than the one before it, but then it was retreating back into her perfect skin.
Grey lines, growing and changing.
Grey lines, growing and changing. The man with Amity's hands holds them out before himself, gazing thoughtlessly at the insides of his elbows. At the grey lines under the skin, and the angry red abscesses. The sight is unaccompanied by emotion. He drifts somewhere, impersonal, detached, in a world of hurt.
His phone rings--he ignores the notification from his provider warning of its impending cessation of service unless he coughs up the bill--and he picks it up.
"Just checking on you," says the man on the other end.
"Day four," says the man with Amity's hands. Those hands are shaking so hard that he nearly drops the phone.
He lies on a sweat-soaked mattress. It is on the floor, because all the furniture is heaped up in front of the door out of the tiny studio apartment. He'd signed a lease and paid a month upfront, but a month was all he needed. More than what he needed. He'd be gone long before then, gone off to some better place, some new life, really this time.
The room smells like vomit and urine and other even less-wholesome things. The door to the bathroom hangs open, but most of the stench is coming from a bucket beside the mattress, because moving more than he has to hurts.
"You're crazy," says the man on the phone, with a combination of incredulity and respect. "So I've been told." He sneezes. Christ, if he could just stop sneezing. The sneezing is worse than he'd expected. "How are you holding out for supplies?" He forces himself to sit upright, every inch of him aching, and he surveys the situation. "Valium's running out more than I expected. Food's fine." Not that he's eaten much. "You can do this, man. OK?" "Yeah," he says weakly, not entirely agreeing. He holds out his naked arm again. Stupid ********' tattoo. Regrets it every day. "You want me to bring you some more Valium? Xanax?" "Nah, man. It's cool." It isn't cool. He desperately wants some more Valium but he'll come with gear, and it'll go badly. "How are you for books?" "Fine, but I can't read, man. Head's killing me." "Jesus Christ. Obadiah Thompson, too sick to read." The voice teases, but it accompanies real worry, and the man with Amity's hands--the man with a name--manages a watery laugh. "I think you think I'm smarter than I am," he says. "Nah, man. Only a dumbass'd do what you're doing." "You have no idea. Listen, I'm almost out of minutes." "s**t, sorry. OK, listen, I'll call tomorrow. And if you need anything you text me." "Yeah," he says, not bothering to say that he can't, not with these hands. "Hang in there." "Yeah."
Then he's gone. The effort is a knife blade in his temple now that it's passed, and he rests his arms on the edges of the bucket thinking he might need to turn up what little is in his stomach, but the moment goes away.
Day four.
He'd let his guard down. The phone was gently taken from his hand, and something left him, and he realized he'd screwed it up again, lost something else. Stupidly, mutely, he stared at the Goddess and failed to comprehend.
"You understand don't you? Why it had to be done?" He didn't.
"Yes, of course you do." He didn't.
Shaking and terrified, he stared straight into her eyes. He'd thought her malicious; he'd thought her scheming and manipulative and evil.
She wasn't any of these things. She was simply insane.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose.
He stumbled backward, his eyes lifting to the Wall, and the Wall looked back.
He searched the dumps for material, and found something. A...bracelet?
The bracelet is pretty thing of rainbow knots, bright against the grim backdrop of the Ruins. The sight of it fills him with something warm, something hopeful.
Where can I put this on---oh.
A plastic mannequin, partially buried under office equipment, sticks out a bit at the Wall, one hand out-stretched. It seems a fairly obvious home to place this thing, and it slips neatly over the fingers and onto the wrist.
"Perf-"
There's a sudden, painful pressure as the hand swiftly comes to life and grabs onto his own. Eir lets out a shriek--
His feet touches something solid.
He looked down and the Wall is gone. Overhead is the brilliant, fiery orange of sunset, the night's darkness only just creeping in at the corners.
He stands in a field that stretches far into the horizon, and as the 'hand' slips from your own, you see hundreds, thousands, more like it reaching for his, in multitude is so thick and demanding that you can barely see the ground.
"Wait! I'll pull you out-"
He grabbed at one and grasped, only to have it go limp just as he put all of his strength and will into the action.
His determination flares and you reach for another, only for it to shatter at the barest graze of his fingers.
No.
One by one and two by two, he tried again, again and again... -but in the end the hands drop, and crumble, and drift away as ashes in the wind until finally he is standing alone in a field full of ashes.
He is alone, and night has settled over the world.
"Hello? Anybody there?"
He reached into the darkness, hoping for at least one last hand-one last person that he can save.
Nothing reaches back.
"AH!" Rei yelled, tossing his blanket in half-delirium state. Someone who is in the living room quickly made her way into the bedroom. "-what is it? Another bad dream?" Asked his mother.
He gasped, and wiped the unpleasant cold bullets of perspiration from his face. "Yeah. And lately they're getting worse." He said, putting his hand on the headphones. They still worked just fine, he grinned in contempt.
But his vision blurred.
At some point, he has jacked the headphones into his mother's head. And his father's. And the doctor's. And the nurses and the patient beside him's and the cat's and the coffin's---
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"
He awoke. There's someone kneeling over him--
The Goddess.
"You need rest, you give so much and still they would plague you." She caresses his head with a gentle expression and slides her hand over his eyes, closing them. "That's enough for now."
He woke up some time later, and stared at the Wall.
The nightmare is gone, but in it's place a thought suddenly becomes very clear...
A wall does not protect, a wall can only buy them time.
Something shone near him. The mannequin hand, one with the bracelet from earlier are holding something.
[Eir received Blessing!]
What did the Goddess said to you? asked the weapon, in which Eir answered with a shake on his head.
"Something about forgetting..." The Forgotten Blessing suddenly gave him a vision. The vision of a Goddess with a bow, with determination to protect her citizens from 'THEM'. "-or...I cannot say."
[Confused, Eir Exits to World's Edge...]
Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2013 2:22 am
Some how Andie found his self back at the wall, once again asked to help build it. He set out to look for something new to add to it and eventually found a cellphone. He picked it up and started back to the wall only for it to ring. He hit the accept button and held it to his ear. "Hello?" He asked and was sucked into a bloody scene. It was even more shocking when the blonde woman turned into the goddess. But then the scene changed.
"Yeah?" He answered the phone absently as he looked through a surf board magazine. "I found them." At the voice on the other end, Aiden dropped the magazine and sat up straight. "Where?" Was all he could get out. "Sydney." He swallowed when he realized just how close they had been. "Hey Aid? There is something you need to know before you meet them." He tightened his grip on the phone then asked, "What is is?" The other male on the other end was silent for a moment. "They have another kid. He's only a few years younger then you." The voice finally said, apology in his voice.
Aiden froze in his place for what seemed like an eternity after he heard that. "Are you sure? You're sure the kid is theirs?" "Positive. He looked just like them. And you." He closed his eyes, not sure what to make of this. "Thanks Mack. I'll let you know how it goes." He muttered into the phone. "Aid? No matter what happens we are here for you, just so you know. Good luck." He muttered goodbye then hung up.
Andie blinked when he was back in the now, standing in front of the goddess who takes the phone. His memory of the call as well. Listening to her he suddenly understood. There was no wall of protection.
Natsuko-neko
Unstoppable OTP
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Yayoi
Super Sex Symbol
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Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2013 6:23 am
The wall.
She was getting a little tired of this thing, but the urge to build it higher. Build it stronger. It chewed on her ear. Fingers on her spine. They were all just bricks in the wall anyway. Why not add more?
Once more she looked around for something to add, though perhaps with a little less effort than she had the previous times. Ralifa didn't have that drive and was only slightly curious what exactly was on the other side of that wall, now that she was a bit more aware.
Finding a friendship bracelet, she was unsure how well that would help but she gave a shrug. It was kind of pretty so maybe it would inspire others to do well in building the wall and make it pretty? Perhaps hope. Eyes locked on a plastic hand that reached out from the wall. Well if that wasn't obvious, she slipped the bracelet over the stiff fingers and down onto the wrist. All of a sudden the hand grabbed her, painfully.
Looking down, the wall was gone. The rubble was gone. All that was there was a field and above a fiery sunset sky. tinged with night's shadow on the edges. The field seemed to go on and on, the hand slipped from her own before more reached up from the ground. One, two, three, ten, twenty, thirty. There we so many! She grabbed one, pulling on it before it went lip. A second she barely grazed with her fingers and it crumbled to pieces. Over and over again she tried to grasp a hand only for them to crumble and fall away. If only she could grab one!
But she couldn't. They all fell away, ash replaced them and drifted away. Ralifa reached out into the darkness. Shirking back slightly as it felt like the darkness was staring back.
She awoke from one nightmare into another. It was gone, everything was gone! Destroyed! No, no! She should have stayed, should have been with them. Tried to help. But now all that was left was darkness, destruction. She didn't even know where to go now she was so lost. Falling to her knees Ralifa wept. A sob of heart sickness that was lost in the fog.
Everything gone.
Again, she awoke. The Goddess kneeling over her with a smile. Cooing soft words to her as she lay there. Her ears ringing, ears buzzing. She couldn't really make out what she was saying. A cool hand slid down her forehead and shut her eyes. The memories faded and she awoke later in front of the wall. Clambering to her feet, Ralifa stares up at it.
The nightmare was gone, nothing of it remained. But she knew, the time left that this wall could protect her was limited. What horrors awaited her once it finally broke and crumbled at her feet?
OOC
Character Name: Ralifa Link to Heart Journal:[x] Current HP: 30 Special Ability: Rook's Ambition [b[Species Ability: Famine Horseman Current weapon equipped: ---
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