RolePlayGateway™

Key! Seeing as, these posts might get a bit..confusing, here is a key!
Italics Are Rhage's point of view.
Italics and Red are the voices inside of Rhage's head.
Normal font is Saken's point of view.
Underlined is First person writing in the journal.
And,

Quotes

Or Centered Italics are pieces of songs, or other things that go along with the story, or fit's the character's mood.

“The city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me? Yea, the city looks so pretty do you wanna burn it with me? Flood the streets with Corpses, do you wanna burn it with me? Yea, bring the city to it's knees, do you wanna burn it with me? Let's watch this city burn this world, till there's nothing left of this, lets watch it burn, yea, lets watch the city burn the world!”

Green eyes simply stared into the flames with her lips twitching upwards some, as if to twist her face into a weird expression. A smile instead of her normal smirk.Aren't you going to help here? Aren't you going to help all those puppets, screaming and crying?Laughter regained control within her, the manic sound spilling from from her lips as her eyes scrunched upwards. Her own mind seemed to be amusing her today, instead of the other way around. Should I even care about those..pathetic little beings, scurrying around below like ants under the magnifying glass of some mean-spirited little boy?Even if they said yes, tried to convince her to help the sickening display of humanity crumbling below, she wouldn't. No, let them writhe in pain, let the vomit up the truths that they barred. It was their fault, after all. The wind flirted with several strands of hair, swirling the black tresses around her small, sickly body. Her head shaking, eyes fell closed as if to ignore the display below her perch. A mountain peak jutting out to show the valley going up in flames below.

“ I don't want to sleep,
I don't want to dream.
Waking up to you-
never felt so real.
The way- you make- me feel.”

If this continues, if you let this happen, it will be your fault. You know that, right?A quick shake of her head, white teeth sinking into her lower lip, creating a sudden flash of pain, helped the girl push back the voices. Her own concise which had been absent through most of her life had finally decided to show up, when she could do naught but watch. Watch at those below, screaming and crying for her, reaching for her. Soot smeared faces with burnt hands, the edges of fingertips a nasty black color, almost like frost bite but the opposite. They could see her, a lone figure standing in the wind unmoving even through ashes and smoke blew in her direction.

Perhaps she could be called an angel, in a time such as this. With that serene smile upon her face, a peaceful look in her eyes. Yet. . . That laughter high pitched with the edge of happy hysteria, twisting within the wind it's self. If she were an angel, she was a fallen one, the devil's own right hand. That was not what she was, though. No..She was simply Rhage, locked within Saken and cast out- she had control now, could one fault her for setting fire to those who had hurt her?

Tap..Tap..Tap.. The incessant tapping of something cool and wet upon her body lead her to being woken, her head aching and throbbing. A hand rose, cracked lips parting to allow a dry tongue to lick the moisture sliding down her face into her mouth. The enjoyable taste of tears and rain mixed invading her taste buds, a refreshing taste. It had been just another dream- a memory, of when the other had been in control. That's what she was trying to believe as she stood to stumble forward. But more images assaulted her- forcing her back into the near comatose state of remembrance of things that were not her own.

Early 1800's

Her skirt dragged a crossed the ground, the hem collecting mud and leaves. Things that she wished to bend over and push from it or, better yet, lift her skirts up and allow a slight breeze to caress damp skin. That, though, was taboo- a woman showing off her ankles in public? A heathen and although she generally did not care what human's thought of her. Others of her kind, those vile being with fangs who thirsted for human blood (she, herself, thirsted for their flesh, and not lust wise), did care. A soft sigh heaved the girl's chest as a dainty palm rested on her thigh, green eyes focused upon a wooden door. They were coming in to question her about why her eyes were not their usual Heterochromntic. Her iris' were now one solid color, a cruel green.

“Hey diddle diddle,
The cat and the Fiddle,
the cow jumped over the moon.”

Lips quirked as the the child's rhyme seeming to swirl about inside of her head. Truly life was but a child's game, a bunch of people squabbling over toys.Superficial things that would not last, such as beauty and youth.And is that not what you are worried about, something that will fade? Your own existence sucked into the other(s)? Saken, who you despise, is already forcing you under...Lips twitched once more,gaze dropping to the ground as the door slowly opened forcing an eerie creaking sound echoing through the room. A chill ran up the woman's back and her shoulders squared getting ready for...

And nothing's wrong when Molly smiles.

Shaking her head, the girl bit down on her lip. "NO!" She screamed out, breaking the grasp of the memories. Why, when cursed with Rhage herself must she now get the memories..

And, as I write this within your pages, I wish I knew. These voices, these personalities- The only hope I have of staying semi-sane is to confess. Confess to you, my journal.


((More to come, if any-one seems interested.Part two is now up.))

Part Two

June 20th 2009 10:52 pm
“All of my memories keep you near.
In silent moments imagine you here.
All of my memories keep you near.
Your silent whispers, silent tear “
-Within Temptation. Memories.

I hate them, Journal. They sneak up on me, forcing me into a state of comatose, making me defenseless. I hate them, I hate her! If only I could get rid of them, all of them but I know I can't. There was once a time, a long time ago, where we hadn't known it was wrong to be us, when we coexisted peacefully. Before I knew there was a problem, and that there are not supposed to be voices in your head.

That, of course, was where it started to go downhill.

“You clear my mind
You're my escape
From this messed up place
'Cause you let me forget
You numb my pain”
Better than drugs-Skillet

Shaking, laughing. She was unsure what she should do, let the manic laughter bubble from within her to spill from her lips, or just break into tears. The person before her..He inspired such fear in her, a fear she had only felt second hand through Saken. Unsure how to react she just stared, lips slightly parted staring up in horror at the... Thing, looming over her.

A hand came down, brushing a crossed the smooth skin of her cheek and she jerked back, a cry rising up in her throat. Her heart seemed to increase it's beating, from one heartbeat ever minute too about three, four. She was terrified, frozen in her seat with that glass of water shaking, causing ripples in the smooth surface.

Swallowing the lump that suddenly made it hard to talk she peered up through her fringe of black hair at the woman above her. A squeak, words caught in her throat, as the girl stroked idly at her cheek. Flinching back once more she attempted to disguise her hatred, and object terror, at the person, tilting her head away from the hand.

“You're her lover, don't..touch me!”[b]Oh, poor little girl fears the kind touch of another, poo-[/b] A quick shake of her head dispelled the voice, before it could tell her the truth of where her fear stemmed from.
Another quick glance upwards had her eyes meet the soft violet eyes of another woman. Kindness seemed to flow from her, and she jerked backwards from it, pressing her rigid body back against the chair in pure, undiluted, fear.

“My love is
Just waiting
To turn your tears to roses”
Skillet-Falling inside the Black

Just one touch, you know you're curious..Don't you want to feel another's skin beneath your fingertips? A soft gasp drawn from their lips from your touch, not hers, but yours? To know that they want you, your touch, your voice, your love rather than hers?Fingers crept upwards, to clench at the dark strands that halo's about her body. “I don't want your t-touch!” She was near screaming, anger starting to well up in her chest as she pushed backwards. The chair fell, her body falling through the air before a sharp crack interrupted the atmosphere of horror from the other woman.


Her head hit hard against the floor, resulting in a loud sound and a sharp flash of pain to interrupt her. Teeth gritted as she rolled over, only to stare in avid fascination from the blood which had dripped from her head to the ground. Fingers crept upwards once more, pressing into the tender flesh that had been split, bruised. Pulling her fingers back, she noted the beauty of blood on pale flesh and turned.

Fangs grew from her upper jaw, pressing into the ragged flesh of her lower lip. Her eyes became more animalistic, her body rigid as maniac laughter spread from her belly and trickled from her lips. Raising fingers curled into claws she lurched for the girl.

“The night is so long when everything's wrong
If you give me your hand
I will help you hold on.”
Skillet-Last night

aken shrieked, holding her head in pain as she bent forward, dry heaves shaking her body, mismatched eyes filled with tears of hatred. Her lover had been killed by the thing inhabiting her body- they had the same face. . . Did Elizabeth hate her in those last moments? She couldn't stand it. Crawling along the ground, her body grating on the harsh cement as she crawled over to the cupboard and took out what she needed. A soft cry left her as the needle sank into her arms- she didn't even use the tourniquet to make the high better.

Falling back against the wall she watched, from a far away land of foggy thoughts, her fingers twitch as the drugs made their way up through her system. It was one way to combat the thoughts, the anger, and the hopelessness that welled up in her from this..Why this?



I almost laugh, now, with this..stupid, stupid, pain ripping through my body, Journal. How could I have done something so..Stupid? Drugs, allowing her to get to me? I hate it, sometimes, but . . At least it was good. I still crave them sometimes, you know. Those drugs..it made everything better. I want them, they're still there, in that cupboard.

Should I fall from grace once more, allow myself to give in to the temptations of the devil? They sing for me, Journal. Want me.

Omfg. Write more!