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 Jan 23, 2016 2:51:04 GMT
The slashed beast would screech momentarily before falling to the ground, dead. As the fighting continued, the beasts began screaming, clawing at the their own faces as much as the guards, and flinging themselves about. A particularly small ghoul leapt at Williem as the captain charged, anger and red taking over the man. When it did so, it ended up impaling itself on the much stronger man's blade. Suddenly, each and every beast unleashed an unearthly scream and crumpled to the floor. Flashes flooded the room, the monsters began transforming before the men's very eyes. Skin melted, horrible claws fell off, and maws dissolved into the crying, horrified faces of people. As if a great curtain had been lifted, the monsters suddenly revealed themselves to be the very citizens of the city that the guards had sworn to protect. Men, women, even children crumbled to the ground sobbing uncontrollably, their bodies bleeding both from their self inflicted wounds and the wounds the guards cut into them. Bodies of plainclothes men and women, bleeding to death and already dead, mingled with those of the guards. What had moments before been a noble fight against the great monsters of Timore had devolved into what appeared to have been an open slaughter of both guard and innocent civilian like. Some of them, both among the dead and among the living, the guard recognized as acquaintances, friends, even family. Slumped against a wall, Elanor Authern cried and bled from a large, but shallow, cut across her arms. However, most horrifying, even more so than all the bodies around, was the one that laid impaled upon the blade of captain Williem. Harris Authern, younger bother of Elanor and Loretta, Williem's love, stared dead-pan into Williem's eyes. The life had long left him, even as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, it was already too late. Elanor, seeing her brother, began screaming incoherently, trying to hide herself deeper into the stone walls. And in the minds of every man, the thought was forced through, 'You did this.'
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#2007f0
3
0
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 Jan 25, 2016 5:09:32 GMT
As his blade met the flesh of the abomination swinging at Willem, Akarus could hear the clear howl of the captain, his head turned to watch his sword sink through the black coating. In the corner of his vision, he could see the empty hand of Willem, and inside, he felt the slightest tinge of relief. In his young mind, he would allow the smallest of seconds to hold the thought of him saving the captain. Then, as his blade was pulled away, so was his attention, head turning to focus on the guard beneath the beasts. A few more steps forward, and he was upon them, his right leg lashing out as he kicked one off. Beside him, he could hear as Willem announced his charge to the world, moving forward with vigor as Akarus pulled back his arm, prepared to stab forward.
As the screams burst from the throats of the tortured throats and the flashes blinded the guard's eyes, instinct retracted the youth's near strike, his arm flying up to cover his head as he bent and stepped back, trying to hide his eyes while still watching the fight. But it was no longer a conflict of survival, and before Akarus' shielded eyes, the beasts began to change. What emerged horrified him more than any abomination thrown at him could possibly achieve.
As his arm fell from his face, the grip on his sword loosening, his head swiveled this way and that, mouth agape as dread warred against his heart. These were people, trapped and tortured by a state that made them beasts, and yet left them vulnerable. The monsters were gone. No... they were the monsters, and still here. Before him, the blood of innocent people bathed the floor, their wails and tears assaulting him as hos resolve caved. Then, a powerful dread began to grow, and slowly, he turned to look at where, not moments ago, he had felled one of these monsters. What he saw struck a chord deep inside, and would scar him forever.
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inherit
19
0
0
Guest
78
Aug 15, 2015 17:44:50 GMT
August 2015
guest
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Post by Guest on Jan 30, 2016 19:06:48 GMT
You did this
Muddied water. An overcast sky. Willem would never be able to look at them the same way again. Forevermore he would only see the lifeless gaze of those little eyes.. the little face staring back at him from the end of his trembling sword. The room erupted into a cacophony (shoutout to my mate Annasiel) of howls and shredding screams but the little black haired boy didn’t contribute to the noise. His lips only parted as the muscles in his jaw laxed and the weight of his limp form hunched forward over the blade. Blood oozed from his mouth like a dark poisonous sap. It dripped onto the stone floor and formed a growing pool at Willem’s feet.
The captain didn’t know what to do. Should he remove the sword? Divine fire, no. He couldn’t! The boy was still- He had to do something.. Blood was spilling so heavily from the boy’s gut that it threatened to slide him off at the slightest tilt. Willem’s hands were shaking violently trying to hold his weapon level. His eyes burned too. Had he not been blinking? It was like the boy’s departed gaze cast a spell over him, stealing his attention from the cries of the living. Muted gasps and ragged breaths left the captain speechless with his mouth agape. Do something! More will die if you don’t move, Willem. MOVE DAMN YOU!
“Get-” He licked his dry lips and stumbled over a cough. “Someone get a nurse! Get a healer!” He commanded over the quieting panic. “Now!”
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#2007f0
3
0
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 Jan 30, 2016 19:54:17 GMT
The darkness... it was terrifying. The flashed of images, dark, red, violent... and screaming. Oh, the endless screaming, constant, fluctuating, terrifying, pitiful... how it clawed at the mind. Pain was searing, burning the body as it scarred the flesh. There was no control, no power to scream against the shadows. They were winning, restricting the heart and conscious. Everything was black, expect what could be seen. Nothing made sense... it didn't make sense. The metal was so cold, so sharp... and the claws that rent at the dark dug so deep. A light flickered, pushing against shadows, and all became clear as terror walked away, finished with the mind, the body... the spirit.
She was free. As Erin fell to the ground, her back against the wall, rivers of tears streaked across her cheeks, eyes wide as she gasped for breath. She was so scared. The darkness had taken her, corrupted her, changed her, then left her to die. It was too much to understand. All she could do was sit in shock, her bloodied arms held against her as she leaned against a wall, staring into the void of space. It was terrifying, and as she tried to think, all that could escape was a sob. What was happening? Why was she here? Nothing made sense, working to grasp at any sense of reality, she had escaped herself, sharp pains plaguing her for seemingly no reason. Her mind was failing to work, to think, to know, and in her attempts to grasp at a proper mind, her own physical condition had been ignored. Across her arms, thick gashes of claws marred her skin, a work of her own, demented doing, but she couldn't pinpoint the pain. Over her eyes, a deep gash stretched across her forehead, a close encounter with a sword, but her eyes couldn't see the blood dripping across her features. She was just sitting there, rocking, trying to stay sane... and couldn't tell if it was working. A voice became her salvation.
"Get a healer. Now!"
Terrified eyes snapped around to the speaker, the gray pools of Erin's eyes still shimmering with tears. Who was it? She knew his name... she thought she did... no, she did. Willem... his name was Willem, and he... he lead the guard. His men had helped her... at least, before now. Wide eyes blinked, trying to understand and see. Oh Divines... a young boy was... Erin's eyes looked away, unable to bear it. The child was dead... there was nothing she could do, even as a... Erin's head snapped up, clear thoughts rushing to her head in a stampede. Finally, something had broken through.
"I'm a medic!" The statement was more for herself than anyone else, her breath calming as she began to crawl to the nearest person, arms weak. "I... I can help." Shaky fingers grabbed the arm of the nearest figure, an elderly woman with graying hair and scared, brown eyes. The pair looked at each other, and Erin tried to smile softly, her body shuddering as the shock tried to wear off. She nodded at the woman, not knowing why or even how. "Let... let me help." Silence passed between the two, and the elderly woman closed her eyes. With a calming breath, she nodded once, and immediately, Erin set to work. Lifting the withered arm, her other hand was held just above the wounded flesh, bruises and red marring the skin. Then, with a calming breath and no small amount of focus, she began to work, concentrating on anything besides the fear.
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Divine Destiny
inherit
-1537
0
Divine Destiny
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January 1970
GUEST
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Post by Divine Destiny on Feb 22, 2016 20:42:56 GMT
Weak. She was so weak.
"C-congeria... p-p-please..."
A single whispered word, her first word spoken out loud since the beginning of time itself. The concept of voice felt foreign to the toppled goddess, austere and degrading in her once-stoic lips. A shiver wracked her body as she was whisked away by her incantation... and thrust into the most excruciating chaos she had ever hoped and feared to feel. It was numbness, it was pain, chaos all around in an incomprehensible gibberish of dark noise. This wasn't the home she had left behind. This wasn't the plane she longed to return to. No, she was a mortal now, and to mortals, Abandon was death.
Flee this place.
But to where?
Theolandra. The godchild. She can help.
Another agonizingly difficult tug of magic, and she was once again whirling through reality. Darkness dripped into psychedelic colors, swirling about in a tunnel of light, dripping into solidity as a looming palace came into sight. The goddess leaned heavily on her staff, her knees quaking, every step sending a wrack of tension through her worn corpus. There was blood, here. Corpses. Only a few outside, but Udel knew the interior told a different story. That affront against nature had assaulted the mortal shepherd, in some twisted preparation for attacking the Lady of Destiny. Theolandra was the only one who could have tipped the scale. Future sight was not needed to see that... not that she could have done so, anyway. Every single channel was static. It was unnerving, a silence the Divine was unused to experiencing, like the blank spots around Timore but magnified an infinite fold.
"Theo... Theolandra. I n-n-need Theolandra," Udel tried to shout, but only a reedy whine escaped from her throat. Disgustingly pitched, horribly weak, nothing more than a breathy bleat like from a dying sheep. Timore needed to die.
A figure moved, and the goddess' eyes shifted to watch it. From the bushes, a guard appeared, limping heavily on what appeared to be a broken ankle. He caught sight of Udel, gave a friendly wave, and hastened his hobbled walk.
"You alright there, luv?" the man called in a singsong tone, smiling through his painful winces. "Nasty battle. Evil buggers knocked me against the wall... you don't look half-right, yourself."
"I a-a-ssure you, I am... f-f-fine." The goddess feigned a relieved grin despite her gut-churning nausea, but ended up giving more of a strained grimace instead. "I w-w-wish to seek... aud... audience... with the q-queen. Please, it is an... em... em... emergency."
"You don't know, luv? The queen is out like a candle in a rainstorm. Dark magics, the boys think. Same evil that made the monsteries that gave us hell." The guard approached the wounded Divine. "Lemme help you get inside, luv. There's a healer in there, I think. Some of the other boys have already head in to get help, while I be watching to see if any of the nasty things come back." Before warning could be had, before either party knew what was going on, the soldier's hand touching the goddess began to crumble. At first it was slow, nothing more than a light sprinkle of dust from the tips of the fingers, then the disintegration began to rapidly spread across his body. Without a word, the remains of the guard blew away into the breeze.
Mortals could not touch Divines.
But she wasn't a Divine. She was now mortal. Wasn't she? Wasn't she?
Why... why did he... Udel felt a new wave of sickness roll over her vile body. The queen... out. Unconscious, or dead? This soldier was certainly dead, and by Udel's ignorant doing. An unplanned death. Everything unplanned. All the order and purpose in the world was dying, and Udel could do nothing to stop it.
"Theo...landra."
She needed some sort of familiarity, even an unresponsive queen... something to give her comfort... because right now, it seemed life itself was meaningless. She was beginning to wish Timore had just killed her.
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