Setting
Default Location for The Massiverse
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Massiverse is a part of 
The Massiverse.
6 Characters Here
Gabriella DiStefano [5] Her love was doomed from the start.
Memphis [4] A fallen angel, missing wings.
Jaryd Foster [0] Walk by faith. Not by sight.
Tycho Darsin [0] Black soul, black heart, something wicked gets it's start.
-Lamp- [0] The ferryman of death, Lamp is in charge of moving souls to the underworld. [quote]Do not make light of death.[/quote]
Black Hands [0] Click, snick, bang.
Start Character Here »
She woke up screaming.
In a violent moment during the nightmare she was envisioning, the girl was startled to wakefulness, clinging to her pillow with the sheets tangled tightly about her ankles. Gasping for breath, she shoved herself to a knelt position, her hair hanging in loose, damp tendrils around her face.
"Oh god," she gasped, pressing her hands to her face before collapsing to one hip. "I, oh..." Her gasps turned to dry sobs, eyes squeezed shut as she simply allowed herself to roll back onto her side on the mattress, burying her cheek against the pillow as she drew her knees tighter to her chest.
Her abdomen hurt, a sharp, aching pain that never really went away with time. She moved one hand to guard the faux injury out of habit, staring through her fingers towards the window, and the dull glow of the streetlamps outside.
In a violent moment during the nightmare she was envisioning, the girl was startled to wakefulness, clinging to her pillow with the sheets tangled tightly about her ankles. Gasping for breath, she shoved herself to a knelt position, her hair hanging in loose, damp tendrils around her face.
"Oh god," she gasped, pressing her hands to her face before collapsing to one hip. "I, oh..." Her gasps turned to dry sobs, eyes squeezed shut as she simply allowed herself to roll back onto her side on the mattress, burying her cheek against the pillow as she drew her knees tighter to her chest.
Her abdomen hurt, a sharp, aching pain that never really went away with time. She moved one hand to guard the faux injury out of habit, staring through her fingers towards the window, and the dull glow of the streetlamps outside.
Memphis burst into the room at the sound of her shout, the black wife beater he often wore not even close to hiding the ugly, black spines that stretched out from his shoulder blades, shrivelled and contrasting drastically to his tanned skin. The man took a glance around her room before whispering in the near dark.
"Gab...riella. What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" His eyes were wide, glancing around the room with quick, jerky movements.
"Gab...riella. What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" His eyes were wide, glancing around the room with quick, jerky movements.
"I'm fine," she forced, her voice distorted by the palm that smeared against her mouth. Her heart pounded in her chest as the adrenaline continued to drive her body into a state of panic, those images flashing in front of her eyes like she was being forced to watch the dream in its sequence over and over again.
"I can't get it out of my head, Memphis," she gasped. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to be frightened of! I can't even remember it!"
She was so terrified of the darkness of her own mind, the emptiness, the fact that the only familiar thing was the man standing at the foot of the bed, a man who wasn't even a man, but something more than that. With trembling fingers, she pulled her hands away, shifting to look at him with wide eyes.
God she wished she could remember.
"I, I'm sorry," she half-whispered.
"I can't get it out of my head, Memphis," she gasped. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to be frightened of! I can't even remember it!"
She was so terrified of the darkness of her own mind, the emptiness, the fact that the only familiar thing was the man standing at the foot of the bed, a man who wasn't even a man, but something more than that. With trembling fingers, she pulled her hands away, shifting to look at him with wide eyes.
God she wished she could remember.
"I, I'm sorry," she half-whispered.
"Don't be sorry. No, never be sorry." Memphis whispered in the darkness, moving around to place his hand on top of the distraught girl's head. They'd finally landed here after he was absolutely sure that Lamp's justice wasn't coming - or, at the very least, was delayed somewhat. For once, he was thankful that the son of a bitch was a little delayed by the other powers of the 'verse.
"I'm... here. I wish I could... tell me what you see. When you -when you dream." He was stuttering and stammering, but he just couldn't get used to the idea that she was here, and she was alive.
"I'm... here. I wish I could... tell me what you see. When you -when you dream." He was stuttering and stammering, but he just couldn't get used to the idea that she was here, and she was alive.
When she felt his hands on the top of her head, she reached for him, sitting up and finding her way to his chest, the broad warmth immediately beginning to soothe the troubling in her spirit. Resting her cheek against his chest, she took deep breaths, holding tightly to him as though she were terrified he was going to just disappear.
"I, it's just...it's black, everywhere. I feel like I'm running in place, and I know there's something behind me, chasing me, but I can't see it or hear it or anything. But I hear other people screaming. I can feel something clawing at my ankles, and..." she hesitated, her voice growing thick.
"And there's so much pain, and there isn't any hope that I'll find what I'm looking for, and I just..." She took a shuddering breath, her tears staining his shirt as she held on to him. This felt better. She was safe here.
"I, it's just...it's black, everywhere. I feel like I'm running in place, and I know there's something behind me, chasing me, but I can't see it or hear it or anything. But I hear other people screaming. I can feel something clawing at my ankles, and..." she hesitated, her voice growing thick.
"And there's so much pain, and there isn't any hope that I'll find what I'm looking for, and I just..." She took a shuddering breath, her tears staining his shirt as she held on to him. This felt better. She was safe here.
Memphis nodded as her arms wrapped around him, hands pressing into his back as she hugged him with ferocity. Pain radiated from where her hands were placed on his back - there would always be pain where his wings once were, he realized - but at he moment the slow ache was a minute price to pay for the welcome feeling of her touch on him - around him. Anywhere. He nearly cried at the idea that this was his Gabby, that she was here and alive.
He nodded at her words. "You've experienced something that most people can't even cope with. The human brain cannot cope with such depth of emotion, and as a result, it shuts down and blocks off the experience."
He leaned back, his face tilted toward her "You've seen death, Gabriella. Death and darkness and light, all at the same time. You were Judged, and you were found to not be needed in the heavens just yet. I'm so glad you weren't."
He nodded at her words. "You've experienced something that most people can't even cope with. The human brain cannot cope with such depth of emotion, and as a result, it shuts down and blocks off the experience."
He leaned back, his face tilted toward her "You've seen death, Gabriella. Death and darkness and light, all at the same time. You were Judged, and you were found to not be needed in the heavens just yet. I'm so glad you weren't."
Death.
She had evaded it. This concept, above all others, sent her mind on a crash-course of questions that needed answering, where none was forthcoming. She had physically died, her spirit having left her body, and when she came back to life, she'd lost all memories of the life before. She had no inkling of familiarity with anyone she met, only the slight tug on her heart every time she looked into Memphis' eyes.
It was something her body, her mind responded to. No one could comfort her like he could, and in spite of the fact that it drove her mad with questions of 'why', she would take it. Something was better than nothing, and at this point, Gabriella had a whole lot of nothing to look forward to.
Her breathing slowed, grip loosening as her panic ebbed. She didn't move away from him though. She couldn't bare the thought. "Don't go." she told him, even though exhaustion pulled at her, she forced herself to stay awake. "Don't leave me."
She had evaded it. This concept, above all others, sent her mind on a crash-course of questions that needed answering, where none was forthcoming. She had physically died, her spirit having left her body, and when she came back to life, she'd lost all memories of the life before. She had no inkling of familiarity with anyone she met, only the slight tug on her heart every time she looked into Memphis' eyes.
It was something her body, her mind responded to. No one could comfort her like he could, and in spite of the fact that it drove her mad with questions of 'why', she would take it. Something was better than nothing, and at this point, Gabriella had a whole lot of nothing to look forward to.
Her breathing slowed, grip loosening as her panic ebbed. She didn't move away from him though. She couldn't bare the thought. "Don't go." she told him, even though exhaustion pulled at her, she forced herself to stay awake. "Don't leave me."
There were times in men's lives where they had to make a choice, where they had to put force into their words and ensure that the receiver got the message. These times could include times of violence or times of war; times of racism or bigotry, or even peace. Leaders around the world stood up on podiums, generals crouched in trenches, doctors faced a surgical team, and each and every one of them were willing to stand up, open their mouths, and deliver something that their reception would be able to take with them. In these moments, they made their words larger than life, made them tangible, made the person hearing them able to put the words behind their ribcage and take it with them.
Memphis wasn't a leader, or a general, and his stitching was too messy and chaotic to be a surgeon. But still, he channelled this energy, made the woman he loved - loves - not only hear what he was saying, but feel it.
"I'm not going anywhere." He said, in the darkness. He shifted her backwards, lying down on the bed beside her, maneuvering her so that she was curled into her body. "Never."
Memphis wasn't a leader, or a general, and his stitching was too messy and chaotic to be a surgeon. But still, he channelled this energy, made the woman he loved - loves - not only hear what he was saying, but feel it.
"I'm not going anywhere." He said, in the darkness. He shifted her backwards, lying down on the bed beside her, maneuvering her so that she was curled into her body. "Never."
His words struck her like a slap to the face, reassurance radiating through her even as he steadily pushed her back. She nearly scrambled for him, her arms going rigid momentarily as she wondered whether or not he was going to just leave her there, but then he was lying at her side, pulling her against him, and it was all okay.
It was all going to be okay.
She melded to his chest, eyes closed as she relaxed against him, taking deep breaths and sighing each time through her nose. Calm. She felt calm, and she knew that while he was here there would be no nightmares.
"Memphis," she asked, her voice a quiet shift in the calm that had settled in the room, like a ripple on the surface of a glassy lake. "I, God still loves me, right?"
It was all going to be okay.
She melded to his chest, eyes closed as she relaxed against him, taking deep breaths and sighing each time through her nose. Calm. She felt calm, and she knew that while he was here there would be no nightmares.
"Memphis," she asked, her voice a quiet shift in the calm that had settled in the room, like a ripple on the surface of a glassy lake. "I, God still loves me, right?"
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