Erebus was usually someone passive, someone who preferred to stay on the sidelines and cheer others on. To support people when they needed to, and being there to catch them when they fell.
But his brother had fallen without him knowing it. Without him there, without being able to protect him.
His heart hurt. His head even hurt, throbbed dully even as he took her hand into a gentle grasp.
His other hand, however clenched up tightly into a fist.
OOC
My character's username: HadesKnight My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character:RABBIT
IttyBittyBatty continued to wander, looking for something to do that wouldn't get her hit by a tree again. After a bit of exploring, she heard soft voices and followed then until she reached a lake. Smiling, she went down to the edge, thinking that dabbling her feet in the water would be pleasant. Sitting beside the water, she idly reached out a finger to trail in the water....
Yelling. Why was everyone yelling? Momma and Da weren't supposed to be yelling like that. And not at Aven. Never at Aven. They all loved Aven so much. Why were they yelling? Why was Aven crying while he yelled? From her bed, Gwenyfarh pulled Mr. Ducky closer and yanked her blanket over her head. She didn't understand why everyone was so angry. It didn't make any sense at all. Not when they were supposed to love each other. How could anyone say such angry, mean things if they loved each other?
MY STATS
My character's username: IttyBittyBatty My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 25/30 Character's Job Class: Mad Hatter Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: 2'8" bat girl with fluffy, white hair, silver eyes, nut-brown skin and a slightly upturned nose. Dressed in default, earth tone Mad Hatter outfit with just a hint of wing membrane peeking out from under the sleeves. Character journal:Bam!
He stops by the lake to rest, lured by carefree voices and whispers of days past. He could use a break. More accurately, some peace. It feels like he hasn't been truly calm since before he discovered the supernatural. It's as if it wound a thread through him the moment the two worlds brushed briefly, and has been pulling it tighter and tighter ever since.
Staring at the lake's water, he feels something... but it isn't peace.
Quote:
6. Endings
The voices in his ears separate, becoming distinct. Becoming familiar.
"I just wanted to call and see how you were doing--" "Could you at least look at me--?" "You can't keep doing this--"
Three different voices float up from the water. He stares down, guilt and regret twin anchors around his neck. Mother, lover, sister... all the main relationships in his life ended not with a bang, but with a whimper.
The phone rings and he knows from the clock that it's his mother. Again. Two weeks of leave, nine days down and eight to go, and she's called at seven on the dot every second night. He stares at the phone, then at the door, checks his watch again. He's running late - he'd meant to be left by now.
The phone is on it's last rings when he trudges over and picks it up. He regrets it immediately. "Davey, sweetheart, I just wanted to call and see how you were doing--"
"Same as two nights ago, mum." He's tired. He doesn't even want to go out, but Jo's arranged a meet up at the pub with friends he hasn't seen in a few years. The least he can do is show up for a while, even though he just wants to catch up on sleep in a real bed for once. Everyone wants some of his time and he just wonders when he gets to use his leave for himself. He's tired - that's his excuse for not trying harder to conceal his irritation at his own mum.
"We don't get to talk that often, I just thought it would be nice to catch up while we can." She sounds a bit wounded, but soldiering on. He ought to be able to appreciate that, but he doesn't, not right now.
"Jo and some school friends are actually waiting for me right now," he says before she can get the guilt trip going. "Can we leave it for another night?"
There must be something sharp in his voice because she becomes very quiet. "Oh. Of course. I'll --"
"Great, thanks, bye."
She doesn't call back for the remaining eight days. He doesn't notice, except to be grateful for the two uninterrupted nights when no one demands to 'catch up' and he can sleep properly.
"You need to fix this," is how Sarah greets him the next time he's home.
He stares at her through the half-open door, blinking fatigue away. "What?"
She glares at him. He's not sure if it because of whatever-it-is-he's-done or because he hasn't invited her inside. He's been back on British soil for less than six hours, his brain isn't awake enough for this.
"You can't keep doing this," she says, "treating mum like that - everyone like that. People matter, David. You can't just--"
"You're not my mother." His voice slices across hers. "And neither is she. Not in a long time."
Sarah's scowl is accompanied by a flinch. She knows as well as he does that if it hadn't been for Sarah stepping up at age thirteen, someone would have noticed how badly their mother was coping with their father's death and she would have lost both children to state care.
"If that's all, I'd like to get some sleep. I had a long flight here, and not much rest for months before that."
He closes the door on her, knowing that she'll be back to make a fuss in a week, or a month, or the next time he's in town. (He suspects she and Jo meet up while he's away, as Sarah always knows the moment he's in London.)
It takes almost a year to realise his sister hasn't been barging into his apartment like she owns the place. He shrugs and goes back to Mario Kart with the guys.
He pushes Jo's voice away. He's done analysing that relationship.
OOC
My character's username: Dreadpirate My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Current party: - Current Guild: - Location: Small IC description of character: Dreadpirate is tall, and neither bulky or slender. He wears the default black, gold and red of the Gryphon class, with hat pulled over his face a little further than most. His pale hair is in a ponytail over one shoulder, with a large gold hoop earring in the opposite ear - all in keeping with his obvious theme. For a pirate he seems overly serious, though occasionally a roguish grin can be seen. Has periods of appearing fascinated by his left hand for some reason... Character journal:here
Gwenyfarh just sat staring into space. Oh, she knew on some level that she was worrying her parents, but she couldn't muster the energy to care or snap herself out of the strange mental emptiness that had consumed her.
If she was going to be honest with herself, her eyes were looking at, but not really seeing the calender on her wall. Aven had been gone for five years now. She missed him. She missed his laugh. But mostly, under the hazy fog that shrouded her mind, she missed how he made the family feel complete. Without him around, there was something important missing.
All they had was an empty, Aven-shaped hole in the background.
MY STATS
My character's username: IttyBittyBatty My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 25/30 Character's Job Class: Mad Hatter Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: 2'8" bat girl with fluffy, white hair, silver eyes, nut-brown skin and a slightly upturned nose. Dressed in default, earth tone Mad Hatter outfit with just a hint of wing membrane peeking out from under the sleeves. Character journal:Bam!
The weather outside matched Gwenyfarh's mood perfectly. And not just her mood. Everything seemed dull and greyed out today. Her parents had come into her room that morning and told her that Aven had left home and wouldn't ever come back.
Momma had put on a brittle, almost too bright smile that didn't fool her tiny daughter in the least. Momma and Da were still angry, still upset. Da didn't even bother trying to smile. He was stood behind Momma looking bristly.
For her part, Gwenyfarh wanted to cry and do some yelling of her own. Instead, all she managed was a sort of grey haziness that kept emotion at a comfortable remove until her child's mind could better process the fact that the one who'd been her sunshine was never coming home.
MY STATS
My character's username: IttyBittyBatty My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 25/30 Character's Job Class: Mad Hatter Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: 2'8" bat girl with fluffy, white hair, silver eyes, nut-brown skin and a slightly upturned nose. Dressed in default, earth tone Mad Hatter outfit with just a hint of wing membrane peeking out from under the sleeves. Character journal:Bam!
Skele_Woofie wandered down the path that the talking sign post had claimed was the Lake. As he walked along, he heard voice.. but smelled no one nor saw them. Then he found their source: the lake.. it looked to have.. something in it. Walking closer he saw images, faces, people in it. People from HIS memory. His eye widened and he reached out to to touch the waters, a sad hurt expression on his face. That was the person who called himself my father... He thought as his hands touched the cold water.
Thoughts entered his mind, flashes of scenery and feelings swamped him. He was waking up again, lying wet and cold on that bank, the skeleton talking to him. No memories, just a big blank smear across his mind. All alone, no knowledge of where he was from, who he knew.. just a name. HIS name. All else gone, drowned in the waters that he'd been pulled from. No friend, no family, no past... Not the he could remember anyways. All alone...
OOC
My character's username: Skele_Woofie My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Current party: Current Guild: Location: the Lake Small IC description of character: Skele_Woofie has tan skin, with the right half his face looking slightly paler, and blak wolf ears and tail. His right arm and leg are skeletal;(You can't see them due to the heavy clothes but they are there and look thinner than the left). His left eye is gold and right eye is an empty socket. Longish black hair that's shaved on the right side. His hands and feet are "paws" though they are still covered in gloves/boots that match the paw shape
More images, thoughts and feelings came to him as the scene changed. He knew this one! It was the first time he'd laid eyes on the school! He ..father.. had called him out and made him follow as they ran, in wolf form, away from the pack. "Gotta show you something boy." Worry.. was he being abandoned? Did they not want him anymore? Was it because he was undead? "You'll be going here for the next few years. To school with all the other kids." So.. not abandoned right? Just school.. which would be new. Something filled with things he wouldn't he known and forgotten anyways right? A new start.. new place.. a new beginning....
OOC
My character's username: Skele_Woofie My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Current party: Current Guild: Location: the Lake Small IC description of character: Skele_Woofie has tan skin, with the right half his face looking slightly paler, and blak wolf ears and tail. His right arm and leg are skeletal;(You can't see them due to the heavy clothes but they are there and look thinner than the left). His left eye is gold and right eye is an empty socket. Longish black hair that's shaved on the right side. His hands and feet are "paws" though they are still covered in gloves/boots that match the paw shape
He'd fumbled more or less at random down a path, disoriented, vaguely giddy at the realization of where he was, and he hadn't meant to do anything in particular but he was drawn by some ineffable need to the shores of the lake, and he stood and he watched the flickering depths and he knew that he should not succumb to the temptation to sink his hands into the water. But he had never been one for the avoidance of temptation, and one of the voices that crept up was so familiar, so achingly longed-for, that despite himself he touched the surface.
12. Rewarding
When he was very young he'd found out that after the house was still and quiet, a person lying on the sofa in the den--the back room no one was supposed to be in after dark, off-limits because there was the TV his parents were so diligent about monitoring the use of--could hear very clearly, through the floor vents, people talking even quietly in the kitchen.
Back then he'd come in here because the big window in the garret was good for smoking in when it was too rainy to sneak out back, and because the room was so rarely-trafficked that the tell-tale lingering wisps of tobacco stink had time to dissipate.
Now he was here because they'd converted his room into a studio for his mother, because he wasn't supposed to be sleeping on couches any more. Because he wasn't supposed to be here. Because he was supposed to be earning a paycheck. Tuesday slept down the hall in her pink crib in the room that had once been his sister's and Taym listened to his parents' hushed voices made metallic by the vents, oblivious to his eavesdropping.
"Where would we put him?" "Where he is now. It's just temporary." "It's always just temporary, Ros." "Well, it is." "Never for the right reason." "Let's just give him a second chance." "A fifth, a sixth you mean?" "He's our son." "You know what this, Ros?" Taym, lying in the stillness in front of the muted, flashing wall of a TV screen, mouthed along to the words: "rewarding bad behavior."
He'd heard this conversation again, again, again.
This was his reward: a sofa and a blanket in the attic, and an audience to a re-run of his mother's grief-strained disappointment; his father's steely, kindly rejection; the eventual whispering sound of distant tears, some hers, some his. He was twenty three years old.
His reward. The thing that he'd earned, with his bad behavior.
MY STATS
My character's username: The Waxwing Slain My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Waxwing fits neatly into the "attractively weatherbeaten highwayman" archetype: rough brown hair falling a bit longer than his coarsely-stubbled jaw, a rakish scar across one brow, a lean and wiry build,and a general bearing of ne'er-do-well garnished with an unimpressed, "been there, done that" stare from dark, deep-set eyes. A pair of dark stag's antlers finish the carefully-constructed suggestion of a barely-tamed animal.
Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe--
A flash of warmth ... images of smiling faces. He'd been sent to the Undead housing. Which made sense.. but they were kind there. Many had been turned undead and lost their memories too... they didn't get upset when he got angry over his memory loss. They helped him work through it. Showed him how to overcome it, or at least not let it hut as much. They didn't mid the smell either.. and gave him a comfy den like room tin the basement to stay in. They'd given him a home...
He gasped and pulled back. Shaking off the images he'd seen. Memories pulled back to his mind. A pity they this didn't show me any memories I'd lost... He thought sadly, but then his eye caught the glimmer of the chest, and all introspective thoughts were gone. Loot!
OOC
My character's username: Skele_Woofie My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Current party: Current Guild: Location: the Lake Small IC description of character: Skele_Woofie has tan skin, with the right half his face looking slightly paler, and blak wolf ears and tail. His right arm and leg are skeletal;(You can't see them due to the heavy clothes but they are there and look thinner than the left). His left eye is gold and right eye is an empty socket. Longish black hair that's shaved on the right side. His hands and feet are "paws" though they are still covered in gloves/boots that match the paw shape
His definition of happiness had become blurred, distorted: happiness was not a contained moment, not a reaction, not a passionate active feeling but a place, a gap, a skin clinging to his other emotions. Happiness was sustained contentment. Happiness was a void where the anxiety normally lived. Happiness was grey and muted and impossible to hold.
It was an absence of fear and fear was all he had until he'd stumbled into ways to forget.
MY STATS
My character's username: The Waxwing Slain My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Waxwing fits neatly into the "attractively weatherbeaten highwayman" archetype: rough brown hair falling a bit longer than his coarsely-stubbled jaw, a rakish scar across one brow, a lean and wiry build,and a general bearing of ne'er-do-well garnished with an unimpressed, "been there, done that" stare from dark, deep-set eyes. A pair of dark stag's antlers finish the carefully-constructed suggestion of a barely-tamed animal.
Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe--
He knew hate. He knew little, quibbling, petty hates; he most of all knew hate for people he loved, for their condescension, for their pity, for their disappointed sighs.
This was not hate like that had been: it dwarfed and consumed even his bitterest, and he knew it, dimly, to be fed by Fiona. Fiona urging him on. Fiona, calm and master of her own emotions; Fiona, regal and determined; Fiona, righteous and just, who did not understand his hate but knew it as a tool to be used, and wielded it accordingly.
He shook violently and withdrew the knife, a failure. Later, on the walk back to his room, he would pause and he would weakly empty the contents of his stomach onto the ground, and then Fiona, too, was a disappointed sigh.
MY STATS
My character's username: The Waxwing Slain My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Waxwing fits neatly into the "attractively weatherbeaten highwayman" archetype: rough brown hair falling a bit longer than his coarsely-stubbled jaw, a rakish scar across one brow, a lean and wiry build,and a general bearing of ne'er-do-well garnished with an unimpressed, "been there, done that" stare from dark, deep-set eyes. A pair of dark stag's antlers finish the carefully-constructed suggestion of a barely-tamed animal.
Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe--
He's six when he gives the first salute that his dad returns with a beaming smile. "You're better at this than I am," his dad exclaims. "You'll put me out of a job if I'm not careful!"
Eight, and his dad's see-oh has come to dinner and approves of something in Davey's bearing or behaviour (his best, of course). "Have you thought about following in your daddy's footsteps? It's a rewarding career," the man says while his dad protests, "Aiming recruitment a little young, don't you think, sir?"
"He's got time," they both agree, for different reasons.
Only a year later and he's practicing his salute again, while accepting a folded flag and medals from men in neat dress uniforms while his mum wails. "Good kid, he'll be a strong man," they murmur. "Just like your dad," they say when he supports his mother as she falters during the ceremony and reception.
Twelve and he thinks about it seriously for the first time, being a hero like his dad. That and a box with medals is all he has of the man any more. "It's a career, not just a job," the recruiters say. "You've got the makings for it." But always accompanied by a, "Talk to us again when you're sixteen."
Sixteen and he signs his life over to the army. He trades a private bedroom for barracks, a remodelled bathroom for communal showers (always freezing), drops into bed battered and bruised and half dead every day and up again before dawn the next morning. It's hell. He pushes through it.
Eighteen, deployed for the first time. A foreign country, new language, strange culture, and locals who want him dead. He's shot on his third day - more of a scratch than anything, he doesn't even spend a full day in the med tent. His mother panics and wants him home, which is why he hadn't told her right away. He stays.
He stays.
Twenty two, only a formal presentation away from being Captain and it all goes to hell. Goddamn witches. So much for his promising career.
But then he becomes a Hunter, and maybe losing his first career had it's own reward, too.
OOC
My character's username: Dreadpirate My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Current party: - Current Guild: - Location: Small IC description of character: Dreadpirate is tall, and neither bulky or slender. He wears the default black, gold and red of the Gryphon class, with hat pulled over his face a little further than most. His pale hair is in a ponytail over one shoulder, with a large gold hoop earring in the opposite ear - all in keeping with his obvious theme. For a pirate he seems overly serious, though occasionally a roguish grin can be seen. Has periods of appearing fascinated by his left hand for some reason... Character journal:here
kalindara
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Raja rolled 1 20-sided dice:
8Total: 8 (1-20)
Raja
Kawaii Shoujo
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 8:36 am
Quote:
8. Confusion
The world was larger than he ever could have imagined. Be it good, or bad. It was a big, scary, and beautiful place. Full of vibrant life, and also gruesome death. A rather unique and wonderous world as a whole.
Which was why it was so confusing. To find himself thrust into it and have people explaining that this and that. There was a ton of information in this world, a ton of things he needed to do. And he hadn't known any of them.
Even speaking had been a challenge... and he didn't know why he couldn't. Everyone had accepted it as a thing, and even helped him improve on it... but it didn't change the fact that it was a lot of take in at once. Not that it was all bad.
OOC
My character's username: tufffluff My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30/30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: None Currently Current Guild: None Currently Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: (See image on the left) 5'5" male, and tends to come off as young at a glance. This is partially due to the goofy grin that's probably evident on his face. He has black hair that is messy and tied in the back in a ponytail, his eyes are nearly as dark a black. If there is any 'sheen' to it it's more brownish. A fluffy dog's set of ears and tail are added. Aside from that, he really doesn't look like he'd make a good wall... BUT HE'LL DO HIS BEST. Character journal:Here
itspao_ rolled 1 20-sided dice:
9Total: 9 (1-20)
Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 8:48 am
9. Repeat
Kiin sidled next to a lake -- another oddity in this world, maybe; he couldn't really be sure. Anything and everything seemed to have a voice, a mind and life of its own. As though the place was teeming and vibrant and energetic, but this lake. Peaceful lake... peaceful?
Knees flattened the grass he rested them on, and he look carefully into its surface before reaching down to splash his face with a bit of the water. He wasn't really expecting anything to happen...
"Again!" she screamed, the loud CRACK of a whip or thong of some kind lashing into what sounded like flesh. The sound of a child fighting down cries of pain into whimpered sobs as he obeyed..
"Skinning is an art, always remember that," she said, more calm and placid than he knew she was actually capable of being. "You needn't cut yourself again and again if you only. Do. It. Right."
CRACK.
Kiin started and leaned back, pulling his hands from the water and ripping the memory from his mind's eye. Dark, coal red eyes narrowed and stung with...something. He wasn't sure. Or wouldn't admit. But he had to catch his breath, at least, and the quick rise and fall of his chest was indicative enough of that.
MY STATS
My character's username: SlKiiNL3SS My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Mad Hatter Current party: -- Current Guild: -- Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: 5'5", lean and dressed in monochrome grays, blacks and whites with a surprising accent of gold in his outfit. Eyes are dark red coal, skin a lighter olive shade, and his jet black hair somewhat blends into the nifty top hat. Character journal:click
Briar_Rose walked foward, approaching the lake at a steady pace. Not because she wasn't in any hurry, although it was a part of it, but because she was in a totally new place with new surprises and dangers. It wasn't very long before she could hear the voices surrounding her. Not unlike another lake from another time.
She peered deep into the lake, her single wing helping her keep her balance from the water's edge, and touched the calm surface.
{2: Loss}
She felt like her head was about to explode. She had tried so hard to remember, but whenever she attempted to catch one of the wispy clouds of memory, it vanished. She buried her head under the bed pillows, seeking relief from the pain. What happened to her to cause her to forget completely? Shouldn't she be able to remember something by now? She knew what she was, knew why she was at the Academy... at the very least, she knew her name... But she wanted more.
A worried-sounding 'chirrup' stirred her out of her thoughts. She lifted the pillow from her face and was met with a fluffy black and blue Treat. SurroundSound made another small noise and nosed her with concern.
"I'm okay." She promised the little Skull Noise Key Treat. It crawled on top of her chest and she cradled it close, hugging the little Minipet in gratitude. She wasn't alone, but she felt like a part of her was lost forever. She could never be whole again, only incomplete.
MY STATS
My character's username: Briar_Rose My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Gryphon Current party: None Current Guild: None Location: Tulgey Woods 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
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My character's username: IttyBittyBatty
My character's username: Dreadpirate 
