inherit
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Sept 16, 2015 6:10:11 GMT
Aleksandria walked the catacombs, finding peace in the darkness that her scarred form often lacked in the light. She crossed through a long, narrow tunnel that lead directly from her personal hideout in the country-side to the city. This tunnel, often blocked off, was one of Alek's personal secrets that she would do anything to keep secret. Pulling her hood back, her tattooed eyes gazed down into the darkness, cat-like eyes adjusting easily to the darkness as something within her stirred and writhed in agony.
A ghost, a wandering spirit, had been caught by Alek within the tombs. The thing had been around so long it had gotten everything about itself, even down to what it was before it died. It could have been a young man, cut down in his prime, or an aged warrior who fell ingloriously in battle. Either way, Alek had branded the thing and sealed it inside her own body for temporary storage until she could get into the city and properly dispose of the spirit. It would need to be consumed in order for it's soul to be scattered to the wind and collected for limbo.
Death was such an interesting concept, one that often warped around Alek's mind. The idealist, popular opinion of Necromancers was that they lived forever. This was not just untrue, but a cruel lie told to children to scare them and spite Necromancers. They cheated death, certainly, but not for themselves. Knowing the powers she wielded would likely kill her long before the knife of any rival, Alek had long ago accepted her inevitable death as a part of the endless cycle. Still, something within her wondered, if she could create a Philosopher's Stone, could she cheat death?
Then, movement, she spotted something at the end of the tunnel and her body tensed up. An intruder.
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#2007f0
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Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
3
Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Sept 16, 2015 6:30:34 GMT
The dark catacombs was not a place Arthur visited often, and yet, he made the effort to stop by and see an old friend on occasion, her impact on him insurmountable. Annabell Verane had been the first real friend of the young boy when he had shown up. Despite her struggles, the weight of her responsibility, she had taken the time to get to know him, and the two had become close. It had marveled the young halfbreed that a girl of sixteen with the world against her could still smile. But when she'd died... the hole it left still ached, one of four that had been etched in his soul. Quintus, Rigel, Annabell, Mira... all of them... left their mark.
The white rose he carried in his hands as he stepped through the dark catacombs seemed weak in the dim lights, as if, at any moment, its frail life would be snuffed away. It was a reminder of the girl from four years ago, and the reason Arthur had decided to come down to the lowest level of the catacombs, where the homeless were rested, with its diamonds in the ruff.
The blue gaze of his eyes, pure azule, held in it a certain sadness, a wisp of the pain he'd felt after her death. It'd been so sudden, her there then gone. Yet her demise had brought him to the guard... it felt ironic. The hole in his heart had made him. The gap had choses his path. A soft smile played at his lips, his head down to stare at the soft, sweet rose. It didn't deserve to die. Not down here, in the cold and the dark. But Annabell was still there in his mind, and he would still visit her. Because friendship never dies.
In his pondering the halfbreed didn't notice the shadow in the catacombs, his careless steps hiding her sounds. Instead, soft eyes searched the petals of the rose, remembering every detail. This was Annabell, pure as snow.
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inherit
10
0
Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
4
blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Sept 16, 2015 7:07:37 GMT
There was no thought, only action. In an instant, Alek descended upon the intruder, her body moving faster than conscious thought could process. Pure, cold, instinct took over her body as she consumed the power of the spirit within her, dooming it to an untold amount of years in scattered nothingness til it could finally rest. The man whom walked in her tunnels would see nothing, perhaps he'd even feel nothing as Alek drew upon the power of the spirit to drive her hand through the man's heart, gripping the the dead thing and 'branding' the core within.
It was over in an instant, less than an instant, Alek's eyes glowed and her breathing came out ragged, desperate. Something she hadn't felt in a very long time had taken over her, driven her actions, forced her body into movements. It was fear. Pure, unbridled fear. A crushing terror. Power coursed through her hand as she retracted her hand from the dead husk of what she could only assume was a man of some sort. Within her hand, a small, blue object glowed and pulsated as swirls of power pulled from the body and into the stone.
Her brands glowing, her palm emanating with a pain stronger than if her hand was thrown into a fire, she focused entirely on containing the spirit she forcefully ripped from the Elemental. Something was strange, wrong, different. This was not how a soul worked, it was not tangible, it did not glow. The small room illuminated with light one more time as the stone flashed before falling permanently dull. Alek would have liked to feel something as she watched this, excitement, joy, fascination, anything.
But nothing could break past the fear. What had she just done? Everything would need to change now, something within her told her. The tunnel would need to be blocked off from her end, someone would have to find this body, this was someone important. As her eyes readjusted to the dark, she realized who she had just struck down, and the knowledge of it chilled her emotionless soul to the core.
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#2007f0
3
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1
Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
3
Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Sept 16, 2015 14:29:05 GMT
The sudden gasp that escaped his throat was something that spoke of his surprise, eyes wide as they left the rose and stared straight into the eyes of the person before him. A single breath, slow and ragged, was drawn, a sense of numbness encompassing his mind. And he slowly began to fade, his mind dulling while the color left his eyes. In his hand, the rose's theons, still as sharp as when he'd plucked it, dug into his skin. Yet it didn't register, it couldn't as trickles of his essence... of Arthur... left the body.
It was said that life flashed before the eyes of those on their dying breath. Images were all the halfbreed saw. Quintus, smiling as he first met the young boy, Annabell as she saw him from a distance, tears streaking through the dirt on her face. There was Rigel, the white orbs waiting patiently, and Mira, her red hair blowing in the wind. Then he saw his life as now... as it was. The DeCarlisle girls, all looking at him so bright eyed. Willem, in his calm comradery... Theolandra...
Then he was gone. And as his life ebbed away, so too, did the rose fall, broken and alone.
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inherit
10
0
Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
4
blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Sept 16, 2015 14:32:47 GMT
{End}
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