|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2012 6:12 pm
The spire did not exactly contain floors, but rather, elevated balconies, podiums almost that clung to the ancient walls like hives, clusters arching infinitely upwards. The lowest was reserved for the Four Clans commoners, the soldiers and workers who listened but never spoke. A tier up was those of royalty of virtuous of Fear, noble and strong, ones who sometimes, together, created an opinion.
And the last was reserved for the Four clans rulers themselves, one for each ruler. Conquest. Famine. Death. War. They were empty.
In the very center of the room was a platform that hung from the infinite ceiling, swaying just barely, gently. Surrounding each side of the platform, around a long black dais were the three Four clans rulers. There was still one missing, but they did not seem to be waiting.
Conquest spoke first, his loud voice booming, echoing for all. "In the operations of war, where there are in the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots, and a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers. We move to strike, we move to achieve our goal, conquer with the resources we have gathered, and rebuild our clans. We move to ensure our future."
"War is fair," the second horseman continued, black wings and long red skirt oddly formal for one of her clan. "We act according to plan and reason. We act according to our rules." She pointed towards the glowing white sphere in the center of the dais. "It has taken us a long time to reforge the three pieces of our modus operandi, the artifact that can tear into the Human world. We make no mistakes from the past, all obstacles have been eliminated, and the time to strike will be over before any humans, any vermin have had the time to retaliate. This will not be a struggle, but simply a transition."
"Now," continued Conquest, "It is time for us to begin conference on conduct, to ensure that the Humans are controlled but not overwhelmed, conquered but not depleted. We will speak now of our plans after the opening in the Human world has been created, when our Apocalypse will begin."
The object simply hummed, patient, brimming with Fear as always. It was just a matter of time.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 26, 2012 10:09 pm
War disapproved, she had disapproved the other clan's decision to omit the Heirs: in the clan of War, one earned their role, and did not just fall upon it by tradition, blood, or convenience. She alone chose her own Heir and stood by her choice, she alone brought Eris her second in command to the meeting.
As she sat down and waited for the unveiling, as Famine spoke, War signaled to her protege. Come closer. Watch and remember.
In a heartbeat it was quiet again: not just quiet but still. Silent. Anticipatory. Thousands of soldiers waiting outside, a thousand Fears together for the first-
- And last time as the white sphere, the very artifact they had been waited for in the center shattered in a burst of white-
- betraying them.
There was very little room to think, react even, to even consider what exactly was going on before the pain tore into everyone, ripping them to pieces before even some could move, consider what was wrong, could even curl up one last time as the light engulfed them. The world shook, pure whites, ringing, ear-splitting loud loud loud loudloudloudloudloud-
- And then silent.
Nothing remained but the agony. No, it was because of the agony that Eris remained, Fear all but gone, leaving only one thing behind. One thing that still defined her, that was undoubtedly part of her, that was already broken beyond repair. It whispered to her, called her back as more of it began to sweep up from the fallen around her, the fallen that were no longer there, that were there but somewhere else.
The Insanity was not generous enough to save anyone else other than Eris. She could hear them, the masses of agony now, confusion and loss unable to reform ever again the same way, unable to understand, unable to see how distorted their world was, just like they were. It was loud again, too loud, not just loud but painful, a pain searing in her mind, tearing her vision with images of half-formed familiar faces merging and melting into each other crying out for vengeance while others dissolved into fog again screaming salvation. It was louder than the way her half-dissipated body lay in the water, neither part of their Insanity, but not quite yet complete either. She was half here, half there-
- And entirely, utterly destroyed.
Even as her fallen kin, the crumbling pieces of her kind formed together and flew away demanding Home one more time, she remained. There was no heart to break, no mind to shatter, simply a longing, a sadness, a guilt, a pain. An agony. Anger. Confusion. Fragments.
The Insanity could not piece her together again even as she watched and remembered.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Interesting Conversationalist
|
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 12:49 pm
It should have been the highest honor of her life.
The FEAR was practically tangible within the depths of the spire. Even beyond it's sanctuary, the pure emotion thrummed like a separate entity in itself, something breathing that fed from the gathering of the clans. Such had not been witnessed in over a decade, such a gathering of the four -- not since the sphere had been broken, the collapse of the human realm snatched from them. And although such a time had passed, it was nothing to the horsemen, ten years passing as quickly as a sigh to them. Their anticipation had not been quelled by the delay -- if anything it only amplified it, growing exponentially in the conference of so many. It moved with the throngs which mobbed just outside the spiraling pinnacle, a thick fog of hungry fervor. Within, the air itself was alive. Although not nearly matching the quantity which amassed outside, bodies still flocked to the balconies which lined the inner wall of the spire, thrilled for the chance to witness the beginning of the end. Pressed close and humming as they watched, they waited for their leaders to speak, for the orders which would most certainly bring forth their victory. Above, nobles from each of the clans stood outwardly composed, patient, their tension evident only in the way their eyes focused on the inner platform. Above them, the balconies were empty, save one.
Eris stood alone on the highest tier, wings quivering in anticipation. Of the heirs, only she stood as second to her clan, the others mysteriously absent from the conference. In the back of her mind, their absence distressed her a little -- it had been odd, being without the other three while they attended to their own separate clans, and she had hoped to see them -- but she kept it suppressed, allowing herself to be preoccupied by the apprehension of the crowd. Of the four, War was likely the most social domain, and of her kin she was especially affected by emotion -- it was not a difficult thing to do, especially under such circumstances. Muscles beneath her skin rippled, tightened as she watched as each of the leaders of the clans moved to the center platform, warm brown eyes focused intently upon them, her gaze always flicking back to her Lady. It was for her that Eris wore blood red, the same blood red worn now by the Lady of War.
And she had been granted council to this historic gathering. Recognized, not only for the position of Heir which she had worked and fought for, but as her confident, her second, someone she deemed competent enough to stand behind her.
Conquest's voice rose first, hushing the murmurs of those below them. His voice carried in the spire, echoing off the angled walls, reminding her for a moment of Invictus. War's heir leaned forward a little, watching him as he spoke with the calm eloquence she had long since come to associate with his clan. He spoke of their domain, which only heightened her anticipation, her eyes widening slightly, sharp and focused. Her Lady's interjection caused Eris' gaze to flick to her, straightening a little as she spoke for their clan, feeling the power in her voice as she outlined the demise of the human realm. Conquest spoke again, but her attention did not fall back to him -- her Lady had turned to face her, their eyes meeting from across the small span of open air which separated the balcony from the platform. A great cheer came from the crowd as Conquest announced the apocalypse, filling the air with a deafening sound, and in that moment her Lady beckoning to her, calling her closer. Eris stepped without hesitation to the edge of the balcony, her heart soaring even as her wings spreading to catch the air as she moved to cross the span of open air.
Famine began to speak, hushing the crowd again. Everything went silent, and for a single moment, the world stood still. She was acutely aware of the silence, the only sound was the softest whisper of air beneath her wings. The sphere, their modus operandi, pulsed, suddenly brighter than a thousand glass suns, sileuetting her Lady. Eris had nearly crossed the distance, wings beating to slow her descent, feet extended to touch the ground when the sphere exploded. The blinding light expanded in slow motion, every second feeling like an eternity, and she watched as her Lady disintegrated, her red hair flaring before she dissolved into nothing but ash.
The explosion rippled outward, consuming all within the spire. She was screaming, but no sound came out as her skin began to pull away, burned into less than ash. But the pain, the agony which should have been over in an instant, did not cease. As the others rose into the phoenix, an unintelligible collection of memory and emotion, her soul did not leave with them. Instead, she fell with the spire.
It was her Lady's body which had saved her, shielding her just enough to keep her from being consumed completely.
Eris was aware of nothing. Nothing but the screams.
~~~
She'd always been fascinated by water. But then, she had always been fascinated by the dangerous.
The seawater cascaded slowly into the crater which had been made by the explosion, starting to pool in the remnants of what had been the spire of the four clans of the apocalypse. Blackened rubble like broken glass littered the area, hellish spikes pointed at odd angles towards the sky. But Eris was aware of neither. Half of her body was gone, eaten away by the explosion -- her left shoulder was completely separated from her body, claimed by the blast. Her right leg below the knee was gone as well, the skin black and cauterized, her broken wings snapped at odd angles. There was no blood, despite how the sharp needles of rock and twisted metal impaled what was left of her -- it seemed as if her body had been melted to the debris, large sections of remaining flesh seared to rock. The water lapped at what was left of her destroyed body, the remnants of her red skirt swaying a little in the current.
Her FEAR was gone. Everything was gone -- nothing remained, but the shell of something, something completely broken, with the most primitive definition of consciousness. Insanity kept her alive, but only just. She was aware of nothing, unseeing as she stared up at the sky, eyes glowing bright with an unnatural internal light as her mouth stretched open in a silent scream.
Nothing but the unending agony.
What was left of the heir of War twisted, her body convulsing painfully before falling completely limp, black ash crumbling from her wounds as the tension dissipated. A breath of wind caught her sorrel hair, picking up the collecting ash, taking it like black butterflies into the sky.
Carissimi...
She called to them. Her mind was broken, only the carnal basis of language remaining, but she called to them none the less, even from her subconscious. The heirs. Her heirs.
Conserva me ab inferno.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 3:49 pm
The wounds were too raw, festering, blistering, too fresh. But even as the heir of Death, now a protector, ran through the remains of their homeland, a searching rippling wave of despair chilled Aisa.
Eris had not been back at Amityville.
Almost immediately after Death's speech, after Medea had been assigned charge of their new home-- the word, the broken sentiment behind the word, still left an acrid taste in her thoughts.. Aisa traveled, back to where the beginning and the end started and finished.
The possibility, that she had been in the isle, was a far greater chance than Aisa would have liked to imagine. Voices called as Aisa ran by, remnants of insanity that was still far too poisonous to even the heirs, who had hundreds of years behind their belt. With the addition from the insanity gathered in their time with the hunters, it was a familiar renewed pressure, forcing it's hand through their thoughts, sifting and fingering their deepest uncertainties.
What uncertainties they held was a secret that even the heirs themselves would not always fully understand. But one fact was, the grief was too strong.
"Eris, darling."
The calling was urgent, as Aisa's desperation pierced and shredded her normally solemn exterior, her body set on all fours to lean over Eris's mangled form. If there was such a thing as a tear-streaked Aisa, this was close. No traces of the sorrowful liquid streaked down Aisa's cheeks but her teeth bit her pale lips, her eyes traveling and wildly assessing the damaged form. Her breathing was marked uneven, repeatedly calling out Eris's name. If there had been more time, Aisa wouldn't have left Eris. A single moment could have betrayed the line between life and death, Aisa cursed herself for having wasted so many.
The words repeated, maddeningly echoed through Aisa's cognizance.
Eris had been there at the time of the explosion. She had been there. Medea had told her that no heirs would have been there, why was Eris there--
Medea's astuteness was cut with a precison that Aisa had not fully grasped back then. When Death called for Aisa to make the choice between him and the heirs, Aisa had chosen him. But that had been with the arrogant assurance, the assumption, that even if separated, the heirs were still there. Perhaps, farther from Aisa .. but still there. She had not imagined a world without them when he posed the question.
"Cara mea, we're here, we're here." Her hand tucked a sorrel lock behind Eris's ear, her head turning back to look at Cym and Connie.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 4:11 pm
It should have been the highest honor of his life.
Life adapting to his new status as one of the protectors of the new clan of Horsemen had been something that the once-heir to conquest spent a lot of time with. Rounding the reserve, looking to the new faces he had never seen before, and overall - looking for the one face he hadn't seen in some time. There was a part of him that wasn't worried - they'd all said they would stand alone if the circumstances called for it. They would not rescue each other.
Or expect to be rescued, even.
But it wasn't like Eris to miss a battle with the hunters. It wasn't like her to simply be gone. How he had remained stoic even as there were those who had told him that they had not seen her since the islands evaded even him. His heart sunk into his stomach. Nobody had seen Eris. Nobody had seen Eris. The reality of what that could have meant was something he rejected quickly. She hadn't been part of the Phoenix. He refused to believe she was part of the Phoenix.
She would not have left them like that. She would walk into the reserve like she was asking where her bitches were at and they'd all be relieved to see her. She'd sprawl over his shoulders as she always did, comment on how he was taller than she remembered, then ask him to carry her - and he would. She would be as one of his princesses until Aisa or Cymbeline also demanded to be carried. As much as he would try, he would not be able to carry them all.
But it would be the life he wanted. Him and his girls. His beautiful girls.
---
It would be at the strangest hour that the gut feeling struck him, causing the heir to clutch his chest, a frown on his face. A raw and exposed frown. Concern. Worry. There was only one gut response to everything he was feeling right then: I have to go back. Eris was there. Eris was there. He wasn't entirely sure what it was that possessed him to think of this either. But somewhere amongst the remains was something precious to him that he could still hold tangibly.
He needed it. He needed to feel Eris's weight and know she was okay.
"We are going back." Invictus had told the other two heirs. There was no hesitation about it. Certainly by 'we' he had meant himself, but he would not have protested either Aisa or Cymbeline coming along as well. No, they would come, they would all be together, and things would be as they were meant to be. All four of them together.
But he needed to go to her right then. He had been like a bat out of hell in leaving. If he was seen, he would have shown a certain frantic fervor that he never displayed - if only from the fact that he had dropped every ounce of poise he normally held onto, even in the worst of situations. For a man who didn't flinch under attacks and had walked out of crumbling buildings, to see him running as though it was his highest priority probably would have stirred up concern in those who saw him.
And that was why he had returned to see the wreckage. The crumbling remains of what had been the most beautiful sight of his life. His home. His home and the gravestones of those who had fallen in the ashes. Yet somehow, he knew where he needed to start looking. Even as he began to maneuver through the crumbling remains of islands, he was heading only towards the one place Eris could have been - the spire.
She had not been on the isle of War when he had gone, which meant she had to have been there. He would not leave her there.
He wouldn't.
"ERIS!" He yelled out her name, hoping for some sign that if she was there - wherever she was - she would hear him and he would find her.
However, it would be Aisa who found her first, and that gut feeling wrenched into him, even as they stepped into the remains of the spire. Eris shouldn't have been there. She really shouldn't have. They'd been left home, told to watch their guests. That was why Eris was there.
And somehow, the heir to War had survived, even as they began to gather around her, Invictus's hand smoothing over her hair. "A te ad nos maneat." he whispered, his poker face returning. He would not let her see how bad it looked to him, the state of everything. He would look as though it was fine.
And then it would be. They would all go home together.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 9:31 pm
Her first sane thought was the realization that they had come.
Eris could not say how she knew -- perhaps she didn't know at all, but it was merely a hope, a need for them to be close now, when everything was broken. It was funny, in a way. Where they had once been nothing more than acquaintances at best, rivals at worse, it was ironic how her very soul craved them now, enough to summon them even in the depths of her Insanity. Even as she watched, unseeing, and remembered, she needed them like she needed life-blood. Their presence alone was enough to shine a thin ray of light through the chaos which ravaged her mind, dulling the cacophony of voices and endless screams. From where she lay, what had been War's heir sucked in a slow, rattling breath, a gasp for air as Aisa leaned low over her, sizing up the damage. Her eyes still focused sightlessly upon the sky, but the glow had dimmed a little, the words permeating the Insanity. Tilting her head slightly into Death's hand, she exhaled in what could have been described as a sigh had circumstances been different.
They had come for her.
Invictus' words drew a hint more of clarity from her, the latin coaxing an understanding. She tried to speak, chest heaving a little as she tried to force air through her vocal cords, but all that resulted was a strained hiss, her lips moving soundlessly. Instead, she sighed again, contenting instead to allow her gaze to slide to him, pressing into his hand.
Ad domum duce, she conceded, tears of relief forming in the corners of her eyes as she slid them closed.
Take me home.
|
 |
 |
|
|
Interesting Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 9:52 pm
She hadn't had to tell him what she wanted. They were there for her and as far as Invictus was concerned, they would not be leaving without her. He stepped carefully about the debris to get a better footing as he slipped his arms underneath Eris to lift her up. She was almost like a small child in his arms - light. Almost sickeningly so. To see her with any sort of tears put a knot in his stomach.
The hunters had done this to their Eris. A beautiful spark of life amongst the remains of a once as beautiful home. The spire, the pieces of the island. All of it. He would not have it. If he'd been angry before, he was barely containing a smoldering rage then. It was more apparent in the way the Heir to Conquest - no, the Protector of Conquest stood as he carefully adjusted the Protector of War in his arms, leaning over to press his lips against her forehead and half leaning his head against hers to listen to her breathe as he half-cradled her against his chest.
"Sic, domum simul." he whispered, though it echoed off of the remains of their home, audible so barely over the rush of the falling water. "Ut sit." Yes, we will go home together. As it should be.
As he stepped over the rubble, rocks shifting under his feet, FEAR began to gather in his wake, solidifying into the image of an immaculately white horse with no stray markings and an incredibly decorated saddle, the protector carefully balancing Eris as he climbed up onto it and settled the injured war in front of him, keeping his arms around her protectively before he looked back to Aisa and Cymbeline.
He said nothing, but his eyes spoke of everything - 'It is time to go.'
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Grey Dragon rolled 5 4-sided dice:
2, 4, 3, 1, 1
Total: 11 (5-20)
|
Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2012 12:59 pm
After her time back Home, the home away from HOME and home, the air... The air felt weird. It felt wrong. FEARful. Like trying to inhale a slurry of mist and vapour and ozone and mercury. Perhaps it was the change. The Insanity that made her more than herself even as she lost herself in the pure white light. In fusing itself deep down in her bones, melting into her flesh, boiling in her blood, had the Insanity changed her that strongly?
No matter... Her skin could crack and drift away like sand on the wind and she would still remain strong. Not as the rock slowly eroded by the desert's harshness, but the tumbleweed that bends and rolls. Even her mind had accepted that flexibility, with thoughts tumbling end over end in a tangled mess. It was that flexibility that had kept her from shattering.
But as she took stock, back home... HOME? Home, in Amityville with the little glowbugs. The little wriggling grubs, that had somehow grown seeds in her heart. Perhaps the seeds were dead. But hadn't she once called them roaches too? Still yearning to step on them, squish them, kill them... And yet they were her army now. Hers, and Pesty's, and Aisa and...
And...
The Insanity nagged at her. You failed, you didn't save us, you didn't save her, you didn't save Home, you didn't save them, you didn't save anyone. Eris. She was overdue. Long overdue. You didn't save her.
Then, as though reading her mind, Pesty spoke. And Cymbeline grasped his hand and went with him, rocketing along at a dizzying speed until they went home once again. Home to the crater, the pit, the destruction, the white blinding light with the grey ashes swirling into faces and nightmares of a thousand souls... To the Spire. The center of the destruction.
The charred, broken body was recognizable even in it's current form. It's pieces. Fractions of the powerful heir that once sat next to her on that red throne. Why had she not been there? You didn't save her. Safe at home with the little wormlings? You didn't save anyone. She should have been. She should have been whole, not like this.
Cymbeline fell to her knees alongside the other two, her horn lowering as she briefly pressed her forehead against her sibling's. Sometimes words only got in the way.
Then, summoning up her FEAR, the heir of Famine released it from her body like a breath of air. Flowing through her with the gift of health and harvests, healing and water and sunlight and seeds and flowers... An oasis of good things... But was she too far gone?
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Interesting Conversationalist
|
Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2012 8:12 pm
Large clumps of ash fell from her wounds as Invictus took her in his arms, the places in her torso where the rubble had impaled her crumbling around the edges. There was no FEAR to keep her body whole, nor to repair that which continued to ebb away. Still, Eris didn't seem to notice the physical state with which she was in. She didn't flinch in Conquest's arms even as he carried her away from the rubble, or even seem aware that she had been moved. She was, however, distinctly aware of him. As he shifted her in his arms, his lips coming down to brush her forehead, she gave another rattling sigh of breath, her head tilting just slightly to press against his chest. Whether or not it was to be comforted, or whether it was she trying to comfort him, it could not be said. Their distress was tangible to her, almost feeding the Insanity itself, except... it didn't. It should have -- that distress, although mild, was so akin to the voices, the screams of confusion, terror, RAGE building like a raging tempest, crashing against the broken fragments of her mind, that emotion like a drowning torrential rain. And yet, somehow, instead it was something else entirely. She clung to it, the only real thing in a cascade of memories.
She clung to them.
~~~
"No Invictus NO they're going to DIE," she hissed, her hand curled around his forearm, writhing and clawing for them as she struggled against him. It was no use -- he was the smallest of the four, but she had never doubted his strength, none in either of their minds that it was a futile effort on her part. Yet she could no more relax in his grip than he could let her go, and so he let her burn off her rage in his arms, screaming threats at them across the barrier of flame.
"Someday war may die, and you merda may relish in your victory, but you will never cheat Death."
Aisa's bloodied hands wrapped around the heir of War's neck instead, the blood staining Eris's pale shoulders, making what was not covered by her crimson dress a matching shade.
"We will, Eris." Her soft voice injected through the conversation, slicing through like a leaf. Her voice was weak, although conscious, a rarely used tone since Death was not often on the brink of her own domain. She chuckled, her fingers brushing against Eris's chin with a feathered touch. She embraced Eris from behind, her arms wrapped around her neck, partially using Connie as support as her shoulder leaned against his.
"War will never die. Sweet, if you die, who would whisper those sweet words to me? Connie, don't let her go .. too far away from us..."
~~~
She made no motion to help nor hinder as Invictus settled onto his horse, positioning her carefully in front of him as if she were something precious. Her consciousness had strengthened a little, coaxed from the brink of the abyss by the stability of the other heirs' words, but her body still continued to decay, falling away like clumps of ash. They had come to take her home, but even in the depths of Insanity, Eris had not expected to make it back to Amityville. It had not been what she'd asked for, when she's called them -- they'd all said they would stand alone, if the circumstances called for it. They would not rescue each other. And she had not called them to be rescued.
Don't let me be alone.
The slightest rattle of bones, brittle and sweet in the wind, alerted her to Cymbeline's presence. She said nothing, but there was nothing that needed to be said, nothing that they both didn't already know. Just the sound of the bones was enough, not only in her rib cage but the ones which decorated her hair. Eris' skin crackled dryly as she lifted her head a little as their foreheads touched, but it was worth it to feel her breath so close, fanning over her skin.
so cool... like water in the sunlight... so different than the ravaging fire she herself used...
'Find Cym. Is she still staring at the sky? That sounds like a rather pleasing idea, don't you think...?'
She wasn't completely aware of what was happening until it had already begun. At first, it was just the subtle feeling of elasticity in her skin, the dryness dissipating a little, the slightest relief she hadn't known she'd needed. The ash which had continued to crumble suddenly stopped falling. Then, it was less subtle -- something incorporeal began to flow like water from her separated shoulder and leg, swirling in lazy arcs where the limbs should have been. From seemingly nowhere, new skin and bone began to form, weaving and twisting to form what had been eaten away. The holes in her torso healed, new sinew stretching and contorting, until flesh filled the gaps.
Eris slid her eyes open when the breath of air vanished, leaving her not whole, but healed. Lifting her hands, she cupped them to Cymbeline's cheeks, leaning in weakly to touch her forehead again to Famine's.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 12:29 am
They were together again, all for Heirs, complete. A family.
And it was jealous. Not it but they, tendrils of white, white fragments of half-formed arms, claws, wings, talons tearing at Eris's half-seared fabic, digging into her burnt skin, refusing to let go as they pulled down.
'You cannot leave us', the voices hissed accusingly, familiar voices, strong and powerful ones now warped past recognition, 'You cannot leave us here, you owe us, it is your duty to stay, to bring us Home, to stay with the Clans and fight with us.'
Eris was drowning in the cries. There was the guilt, oh the heavy guilt, why did she survive, why was she more complete, why wouldn't she stay with them, stay with them in their Home forever. The arms grew to clawed fingers, fingers distorting into faces, angry voices overlapping, eyes shifting and melting, a mass, a lump of white, white flesh calling out to her.
Help us. Stay with us. Don't leave us. Stay Home.
Eris was drowning. She could only watch, like she always did.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Interesting Conversationalist
|
Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 12:33 pm
Eris' body convulsed again, eyes snapping wide again as the tendrils of white began to claw at her form, unwilling to let her go. The screams amplified in her mind as spectral limbs grappled for some sort of leverage, trying to tear her from Invictus' stallion. Cymbeline's healing gift had given her some strength back, but no amount of twisting and struggling could abate their searching talons, nails digging into her flesh to pull her back to the ground. War gave a strangled sound of frustration as they dragged her downward, back onto the broken shards of rock and metal, her hands reaching up to clasp her ears, hair strewn wildly as she shook her head to try to clear it. Red fabric tore in their clutches, fingers tangling into her hair and feathers and skin, beginning to consume her in this mass of white. White like the explosion, white like those hellish rooms on that god-forsaken island.
And she would let them. The guilt was crushing, all encompassing... how could she not let them? It wasn't fair. She alone had survived... where they had died, each and every one, she lived and drew breath. As they never again would. She could not leave them... she owed them... she was their kin, how could she leave them how could she leave her HOME IT WAS HER DUTY TO STAY IT WAS HER DUTY. They had nearly enveloped her now, only flashes of red shining through the mass of white. Letting out a choked cry, Eris allowed her knees to bend, rubble slicing new wounds into her legs as she fell, curling her spine over her body. Yielding to them. Conceding.
Except...
No...
It didn't feel right. To just... lay down and die.
It is not my duty to stay...
She was WAR. She could not stay. She could not sit back and let those who murdered her kin survive unpunished.
It is my duty to GO.
She would fight until her dying breath.
THEY WILL PAY.
A scream of defiance pierced the mass which had all but swallowed her. From beneath, tendrils of flame suddenly erupted, engulfing her completely, a new boundary of flame between herself and what had been her kin, lapping at her flesh.
I WILL NOT REST UNTIL THEY ARE ALL DEAD.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 2:47 pm
The flames burned. Fire was not Eris's ally, it had never, been, wild, proud and free, its own master.
The flames burned, they licked her skin, tasted her flesh, and threatened to consumed what little remained of the Heir, once Eris, once something proud and not a mass of convoluted flesh and Insanity, once something- but what- who was she really who-
- Perhaps she shrieked one last time as they consumed her entirely, washed over her, took over her-
Perhaps she fell silent as they faded, sated, quiet. They had chosen their wielder as had the Insanity.
They had chosen their wielder to fight until everything was consumed by fire. OOC - Congratulations! Eris is now a stage 4 horseman (Protector of the new Lost Clans!. She has 120 base HP and her attack modifier is now 2d12 -6. For more information about the Lost Clans, please read the background HERE. - All former Heirs can now leave the grounds and return to Amityville, there is nothing left here...
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 3:08 pm
To be honest, the flames did bring a degree of worry to Invictus, even as Eris began to fight against them as she as brought down from the horse he had summoned, his brows furrowing together as he dismounted and unsummoned it, arm moving to reach into the flames that had begun to consume the once Heir of War. It took him a moment to realize what had begun to happen - it happened to Eris as it had to himself and Cymbeline.
It consumed her, and then brought her out once again as it had the other two - and she was beautiful. They all were, but this was as magnificent as the Eris he recalled the last time he had seen her. Whole, a being made to take over the battlefield.
Still, when it seemed everything was done, Invictus again summoned his horse to the group. "It is very refreshing, is it not?" he noted, familiar with that sensation when FEAR combined with Insanity and became whole again. Almost invigorating, in some ways. As though they had all taken up a piece of their home as their own. "Do you wish to ride with us still or on your own now, Eris?" he inquired, extending his hand to her as he settled again. He would have her either way. They were a group, never to be separated as this had done to them all ever again.
"It is time for us all to return home."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 4:00 pm
Was it a flicker of worry that crossed Cymbeline's face... or just a mad tic? It was hard to say, but the pleasure when her sibling emerged from the white blindness as whole as ever. Whole, and in control of that fire. That fire that burned in her always, and she was it's keeper, not it's victim. This time at least, she burned with the fire, not in it.
The crazy grin resurfaced as Cymbeline crowded close to Eris, tugging on one of the heir's black wings. One of... many wings. Like a flock of crows. Of ravens... or turkey vultures. But mostly ravens~ Dark like Death's pupil in the black of midnight...
She tugged the wing again, and giggled. "Come, I want to ride. Make Pesty bring it back. Let's ride together~" Cymbeline touched foreheads with the other heir again, this time more of a playful headbutt. It seemed some emotion had pierced her madness, and she was relieved after all.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|