Announcements: Introducing INK, the Writer's Currency » RPG's New Design Team » Now Open: RPG Staff Applications » 10 Years of RPG: Share Your Story » Can't Send PMs? Need Your 10-Forum Posts NOW? » A (Friendly) Reminder to All Romance RPers. » The Newbie's Guide to RolePlayGateway: Read This First! »

Dreaming of Death.

a topic in Fantasy Roleplay, a part of the RPG forum.

If you would like to make your own roleplay based in a fantasy realm (dragons, elves, magic), use this forum. You will be in charge of all things related to your roleplay, so you're on your own here.

Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Haruka_Tenou on Mon Jul 02, 2007 12:14 am

~Lexie~

“Come to me…” The voice whispered through the crisp night air as moonlight shown down upon the small village. A young woman stood her gaze glassy as she stared out into the dark. Her mouth hung slightly askew as her arms lay limp at her sides.

“Come to me...” The voice was insistent. His words held a menacing tone. She stood, staring. To anyone passing by they would have thought her to be in a trance. That or insane. Her left index finger twitched slightly as her left foot moved along the ground. Almost as if it were being pulled by force in a certain direction. Her eyes took in nothing for at the present moment she could only see her own thoughts, and those of the other. That putrid voice that wished to command her, to own her.

“Come to me...” The voice rang through her head, anger pulsing around the notes that lingered.

She may have looked incapacitated and possibly crazy. But what had been taking place within her told another story. Colors danced within her mind. She saw the field at the end of the village in vivid detail as if it were the clearest of days. She saw the scarecrow the hung in the center the birds landing upon him to peck at his face. Beside him was a mound of dirt. It was nothing special, just a small hill. Yet the hill spoke, she moved within her mind her gaze only able to focus on what was before her, the sides of her vision blurred into what resembled a watercolor painting that had gone badly. The voice that called to her was inside the mound. The air around it dark as if it were tainted. The voice called out. It pleaded, begged and commanded her compliance and yet she did not move.

“Why would I allow such an evil to be free? Why would I allow your curse to once again plague my village?” Her words came and yet they did not sound like her. The dream, memory, was not hers. She had stumbled upon an older memory that had been so strong the land had retained it. It had held it within its soil and she had no choice but to go along. That was the problem with being a psychic.

“Please...save me...” The voice wished to plead with her. It was going through each option in the hopes of convincing her. Of breaking her resolve. Her feet carried her another inch closer, yet when she blinked she found herself standing on top of the mound. Something had taken place; something had changed within her vision. The young woman was crying. She felt tears rushing down her cheeks as her palms buried themselves into the ground.

Torment. Pain.

The creature was hurting so badly and yet she was holding it captive. She was the true monster. She understood that the woman in her vision was being tricked, that she was being misled by the creature within the mound, yet this memory was of the past. She could not change what had been.

“You will save me. You must free me. Please...” The voice was but a whisper once again. The foul demon had realized that to win the woman he needed to show he could be kind and it was working. It was taking her over. He was manipulating her and forcing his compliance through his hypnotic voice.

Lexie froze. Her eyes clearing from the vision that had taken her over. She was no longer standing in the middle of town. She was on the mound looking up at the scarecrow. Her mouth became dry as her gaze moved down to confirm with her eyes what her brain was telling her. Her palms were buried up to her elbows in the mound. She tried to shriek and yet no sound came, nothing came. Her eyes were wide and she seemed frozen in terror. Her thoughts cleared so that she could scream within her mind. Wrapped around each of her forearms was a rotting hand. The flesh hung loosely and bone stuck through. The grip made a soft squish as the grasp tightened around her. Making it nearly impossible to move. The dirt shifted, as the form began to rise. The flesh began to fix it self. Becoming smooth and pale as ivory.

Her memory had been a trap and she had released this evil into the world. Tears began to flow as he stood over her, Keeping her on her knee’s his voice echoed within her mind.

“You belong to me. “







It has been five hundred years since Gregory; The Dark One walked the earth. So much of what he had once done has become nothing more than a myth. It was said he slaughtered the innocent. That he brought with him a reign of terror. For one town they are about to learn the history is not always written as truth. That facts can’t be trusted. Darkness is falling and all will soon be revealed. In this place of death, where monsters roam the country side and children’s nightmares are that of reality. Who will you side with? Do you dare to sleep? To dream? When all of your thoughts and nightmares could become that of reality. Be wary. For until the curse is lifted, no one will be able to leave. You will forever be trapped within this land unless truth can be found. For until the dark one is able to rest in peace, he will forever allow the evil to spread.

OOC Notes and such:

Everyone lives in this town and no one has tried to leave. It is not thought of and even if it were it would not be possible. Allow your characters to develop as the story moves along, which means you do not have to post a profile for this one. No God Mode. No one is invincible and no one is immortal. Though most NPC nightmare characters can’t be killed without a truth being reviled. To many lies have taken place within the town and each person will have one or more confessions that will need to be made to help free the town while searching for the truth of Gregory’s past. No Guns. No heavy magic, seers and small spells would be allowed. Such as spells dealing with the elements. Pretty much this is a free form RP and rule number one will be to have fun and be descriptive. Also keep all discussion to the OOC forum. Any questions send me a PM and ask away. =) Also if anyone wishes to portray Gregory please PM me and I will let you know if you can take on his character.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

Haruka_Tenou
GWC Veteran
Member for 13 years
Progenitor Conversation Starter Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Greeter

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Himros on Tue Jul 03, 2007 8:10 pm

Opening his Saphire Blue eye's and staring into the ceiling of his small one man hut, Sabard awakened, He looked around first, then brushed back his roughly shoulder length platinum white hair, He was not old, Quite the opposite actually he was only 23, It was a family trait, as where the eye's, However Sabard had more at his command, His power, His ... Foresight if you will was a curse, He could see things, The past, the present, All horrible things, If his eye's where closed though they went away, He stood, dawning his drab grey robes. Then he bound his eye's, Sitting for a minute, Sabard allowed his third eye to awaken, to view the world with his sense's. He stood again, swayed then headed for the door.
Image

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Himros
Member for 11 years
Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Faithy on Thu Jul 05, 2007 5:20 am

Running a few fingers through her long crimson hair, Kelieahn stared up at the sky. It seemed like an perfect existence. The stars that had been shinning throughout the night did so exquisitely and she watched them until they disappeared. It was peaceful on the hill and the young female enjoyed watching the sun come up. Sleep wasn’t something that was familiar to her and often times, Strider would go days without sleeping at all. The only reason she had insomnia was because of all the horrible nightmares she kept having. Leaning back on her slightly bronze elbows, the eighteen year old was glad she went to the tanning bed before they were outlawed. She wasn’t as tan as she wanted, but it was better than being pale like her family.

“So perfect… yet, I can’t get those nightmares out of my head…”

It had been three days exactly since the last night she slept and even as she lay upon the grass, Kelieahn tried to recall the nightmares in order to analyze them. Unfortunately there wasn’t anything there to analyze and after a few minutes of deep thought, the teen let out a long sigh. Shifting her gaze down towards where the rest of the huts and what not where at, Strider wondered how much longer she had to enjoy the quiet. It wasn’t that she was a loner, quite the opposite actually, but there were times when there was nothing more delightful that being able to sit alone and just think.

“Alright Kel, you’ve got about five minutes before the normal swarm of boys finds you up here and once again attempts to sway you to them.”

Rolling her eyes at the thought, Strider closed her emerald orbs, resting them for a brief second. It really annoyed her how the pompous boys around the town thought they were superb in every way. There was one male that she liked, but he was too shy for her to approach yet. Not only was he shy, but the other males wouldn't allow the two of them to talk more than five words. They wouldn’t take it well if she completely blew them off. for him. Slowly climbing to her feet, she was in the middle of dusting herself off when the normal crew came around.

Oh joy… here we go.
"...la manière vraie au coeur d'un homme est de six pouces de métal entre ses nervures"

Image

The worst part is... I would still die... for you

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Faithy
GWC Veteran
Member for 13 years
Progenitor Conversation Starter Author Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Novelist Greeter Arc Warden Contributor

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Zee All Knowing Peacock on Fri Jul 06, 2007 11:11 am

Slow, steady breathing. Long dark hair which hung down to his shoulders. He reached in his pocket and took out a leather thong. Reaching back he grabbed his hair, pulling it back and tilting his head back. A few swift motions and the thong was tied, pulling his hair up away from his face. He looked to be about thirty, though how old he actually was... that was a completely different story. He wore a thin, white cotton shirt, and light grey cotton pants. He looked around and smiled, baring large, white teeth, in a grin that looked almost sinister. Long, thin arms, and a tall body made him an awkward figure to behold. He turned and looked about.

Little had changed since he had last seen this place, when that bitch had tricked him. Hundreds of years in that prison, and he was all the more bitter for it. Revenge would be had, for a simple mistrust of a stranger. But he'd get them. He'd get every last one of them. He breathed in deep, then slowly exhaled. It was good to once again breath air. Of course, he felt sorry for that poor girl. Haunted by visions he had made her take his place, and now felt a pang of remorse for it. But he would get her out. Replacing her with whatever descendants that witch had spawned.

He walked forward, moving down the gentle slope of the hill. At its base he paused momentarily, giving himself another glance back at that mound, where that damned scarecrow was his only companion. He turned back, looking over the small town. Most people were indoors, as dusk slowly turned to night. The dying sun shone to the west, and a few stars shone through towards the east. He continued walking into the empty streets, until he came upon a small inn.

He moved forward, right hand gripping the handle. He turned and pushed, the door swinging open. Gasps could be heard as the townspeople looked upon the newcomer. He doubted they knew him, but a stranger must still be a rare occurance here. He walked to the bar, the steady thump of his bare feet on the wooden floor the only sound, as all eyes followed his slow path. He reached the bar, and looked upon the tender, who looked livid. His face was flush, probably because of a stranger disgracing his bar.

Cantankerous bastards, he thought, Just like all those years ago...

"Can I help you, fella?" asked the bartender, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Of course," he replied, "I need a room for the night. The name's Gregory..."
"Some things are important. Others are not. Yet all would claim a mortal's attention. It falls to each of us to remain ever mindful, and thus purchase wisdom in the threading of possibilities. It is our common failing that we are guided by our indifference to eventualities. The moment pleases, the future can await consideration." - Steven Erikson's Midnight Tides

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Zee All Knowing Peacock
Member for 11 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Haruka_Tenou on Fri Jul 06, 2007 3:51 pm

~Lexie~




This was all a dream…

No... A nightmare... It had to be...


The thoughts came to her even as she tried to breath. The scent that brought fear to each one of her cells and knowledge to her mind. She allowed her eyes to open wishing that she could scream. He had done this. He had locked her within his prison. Surrounded by dirt and worms the made their way through the mound. This was what people had to mean when they said hell for she did not feel as if anything could save her now. He had used her.

Tricked…Betrayed…

Any word of that nature would do for it was truth. He walked free. Her gift had been a curse after all. A curse that had brought upon the destruction of her village. It was also her own doom, her downfall. He had been able to slither into her mind and take charge. How long had he planned this? More than that why had she been chosen to take his place? Of all those within the town she was not corrupted. She was one of the few that would have helped him if he had asked for it. She could feel his pain, his anger. It radiated from the walls that kept her trapped. He had been within the ground long enough that it had absorbed his raw emotions and they were threatening to choke her. The earth would kill her if she was within it long enough.

It was true she knew some magic. She could use the most basic of earth spells. However, after a period of time her energy would wan and then she would suffocate. She would die. Lexie tried to keep the though from coming and yet it was once again brining her fear. She wanted one question answered and she allowed the thought to scream within her mind. Traveling down the link he had created by taking her will away.

WHY?










-Bella-






Where was that girl?

My mind was fuming as I paced in front of the window of our hut. Kelieahn was late. Of course that was not a huge surprise. She often took her time coming home. It was as if she did not wish to see me. A soft sound escaped me as I glanced about. I could not handle the girl’s tardiness. I was needed for work. My feet moved to look in the mirror one last time. My auburn hair was pulled at the nape of my neck allowing a gentle ponytail to fall in between my shoulder blades. Sapphire eyes stared back at me and the lines that spread out from the corners showed that I was not as young as I had once been. I wore a simply violet dress that hung loosely around my lower thighs. A pair of black sandals completed the attire. I was tired of this life. Tired of the town and just plain fed up with how my life had turned out. Yet there was nothing that could be done about it either. I was in my late forties. My life was pretty much how it was going to be. I moved to the kitchen taking a swig of my beer before rushing out the front door.

There was no point in locking it. Thieves would come and go as they pleased and no one ever bothered with my home. There was nothing of value inside. I moved swiftly down the well work dirt path, stopping only when I had reached the tavern. I smiled pushing the door inward as I waved at the regulars. Noticing only one newcomer and he seemed to be asking for a room. There was a silence within that would have made it possible to hear a cat sneeze a block away. Strangers never came here.

He turned, his gaze piercing. He was a terrifying man and he seemed to know it as well. Even with the fact that there was hardly any muscle on his body. It was clear to tell that he was not a man to cross. Yet there was also something about him that seemed familiar as if he had walked right out of a nightmare.

I felt a palm wrap around my wrist tugging me to the left and out of the path of the strangers gaze. A cold chill swept through me a moment before I gazed into a new pair of eyes. Familiar eyes that held warmth. Nathan. I allowed him to pull me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck nuzzling my cheek against his chest. My only wish was for the stranger to take his leave. I may have also been thinking about how wonderful Nathan’s arms felt around my waist as he held me close. My night was starting. I just hoped that my daughter made it home in one piece. I may not have always shown her but I loved her and wanted only the best for her future. She deserved more. She required better. Something I wasn’t able to offer her.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

Haruka_Tenou
GWC Veteran
Member for 13 years
Progenitor Conversation Starter Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Greeter

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Himros on Sat Jul 07, 2007 5:31 pm

Sabard stumbled into a crowd of people they Had Almost come from Nowhere, then the taunts returned 'what's wrong with your eye's!' ... 'Blind as a bat!' .... "can you see me!?' "I'm Blind, lease just ... leave me alone" Sabard tripped trying to escape the torment silence ensued, He had fell onto the mound ... the hole .... Gregory .... Sabard looked at the gound and unbound his eye's He could see, the pain, the suffering .... the girl. the Girl? she let him out ... she was in pain, afraid, alone. He looked around there was a web, A complex web, that grew ever larger, A lie here a lie there, he looked down, A strand touched him, and fed into the web 'I'm Blind' Another strand was attached to him, He could not remeber what it was from though, The curse, the sight that was it! that had to be it! He looked a down into his hands, then bound the strip of cloth back around his eye's and walked away from the mound.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Himros
Member for 11 years
Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jakob Gray on Sat Jul 07, 2007 6:58 pm

Cairne woke up, with a feverish sweat. It was so strange, he was always up all night, and only when the sun rose did he ever feel safe enough to rest. People had always thought of him as the outcast, with his gray-black hair and red eyes. He was twenty-two now, and the only friend he had really made was Sabard. Cairne the "daemon" and Sabard the blind was their nicknames, the gruesome twosome.
"Cairne, why do you have red eyes like that? What are you the son of Gregory or something?" Was always what he'd heard throughout his childhood. "I mean, since no one knows who your dad is, and your mom died days after you were born, it's probably true. Cairne the daemon. What else explains your eyes and skin?"
(( Cairne isn't the son of Greg, that'd change the story too much. He's just different. xD))
It had definitely left its marks on him, he never talked to someone unless talked to first, unless it was Sabard, the only person he truly thought was his friend.
And even as exhausted as he was, something called him. Something told him to stay awake for the day.
He got dressed in his normal gray tunic and leather boots, his prized possessions. His house was on the bad side of the town, the town Cairne had never considered leaving for a better life.
It was almost as if it was his duty to suffer like this.
He walked out of his shabby little house.
"Oh, if it isn't the daemon?" An old woman asked jokingly.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Jakob Gray
Member for 11 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversation Starter Author Inspiration Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Himros on Sat Jul 07, 2007 9:07 pm

Walking step by step carefully Sabard navigated the streets towards His friend, the one man who did not make fun of him. Although he could not say why. Bumping into an old hag, the woman screamed and hit him with her cane, repeatedly yelping with each hit. He fell to be bruised and further beaten on the ground. The dirt was cold, unforgiving, the marks now lining his flesh seared as they continued to grow more numerous. The woman reaked her scent was almost unbearable, It made him want to empty his stomach. The feel of the wooden cane raking along his skin had stopped, as if the woman thought his judgement just. Then her scent left, A door slammed a woman muttered. I'm alone again. He thought.

Pain, It seemed to last an eternity, every individual move was pain. slowly yet surely His skin accustomed itself to the soft, tender patches. The Wind moved by, Bringing A whisper of hopelessness with it. This town was almost unbearable, But it was home. The people hated him, and his friend, His only friend was as much an outcast. Is it my lot to be cast out? To be the village leper? Pushing himself away from the ground, he winced as the tender skin flexed. the dirt and grit on his hands become painfully obvious to him as he tried to wipe it off on his drab clothing. it was persistent. Wiping frantically now the dirt seemed to dig it's way into his hands. Howling He scratched at his hands the dirt! it won't come ... off!
Last edited by Himros on Mon Jul 09, 2007 3:16 pm, edited 3 times in total.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Himros
Member for 11 years
Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Zee All Knowing Peacock on Sat Jul 07, 2007 10:53 pm

((repeatedly.))

WHY?

That one word, so simply written, yet with so much meaning behind it, hit him like a hammerblow. Gregory staggered backwards as the threat of an eternity of isolation once more hit him, as if he had once again been imprisoned for the first time. Pain ripped through his head, blinding and deafening. He coughed and immediately tasted blood, while he simultaneously felt his stomach clench, the feeling not leaving. He managed to squeeze a few words out of his mouth, and immediately the pain began to lessen. When it was gone, he stood, suddenly feeling exhausted, both mentally and physically. He was drenched in sweat, and he looked around the bar. He let out a shaky breath, than turned towards the door. He needed to get outside; he needed fresh air.

Looking around the room, he felt as if the walls were suddenly closing in, moving to trap him once more. He ran for the door, his shoulder connecting, while a simultaneous blast of invisible energy blew it outward. He ran outside, then looked up at the hill, where he had so long been imprisoned. He set out for it, his legs carrying him forward in long, slow strides. When he reached the hill he looked down, one hand reaching towards it. He felt a wave of sorrow hit him, and realized those were his own emotions. Tears rolled down his face, as he looked down upon the place he had so long suffered. The place where he now forced another to suffer.

One hand extended itself towards the tomb, and blue tendrils snaked out from the fingers. These tendrils probed deep into the ground, through the earth, and down to where she lay. I am sorry... it was the only thing that would come to his mind right away. He felt her presence, and more tears flowed down his cheeks. They seemed to burn paths in his skin, as he finally felt the consequences of his actions. Do not worry. I will free you from this place. I will save your soul, and replace it with whatever I can find. There are people in this village guilty enough to suffer an infinity of such a prison, and I will make sure they are placed there. He looked up at the sky, which was starlight, and said, I will free you. This I vow. I will keep you alive until my job is done, and I shall make sure you get out of there. You can contact me by talking, I will always hear you, and I will never be far. His gaze swung back to the town, and as no more tears ran, the fires of pure, unfiltered rage burned in his eyes.

I shall make sure every last one of them pays...

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Zee All Knowing Peacock
Member for 11 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Faithy on Sun Jul 08, 2007 5:49 pm

Staring up at the sky, Kelieahn let out a long deep sigh. Her drunken mother was probably at the tavern by now and that meant Bella probably noticed her daughter didn’t come home. It wasn’t the first time Strider stayed out for days at a time and it wouldn’t be the last. She hated being home because her mother the wench was either drinking in the living room and treating her like shit, or she was whoring it up with a random guy. There was nothing more disturbing than walking in the front door and seeing your mother and a man naked on the table, going at it. Shuddering at the mere thought, Kel ran a few fingers through her hair, fixing it up. Her long crimson locks were good to her and it didn’t take much to make them look like she just stepped out of the shower and fixed her hair perfectly. Debating whether or not to go straight home and find something to eat or head to the tavern to get food, the teen rolled her emerald orbs. The decision was simple because there wouldn’t be any food at home. No, whatever money her mother acquired went straight to her precious booze. The men she slept with either gave her money or just brought her booze. Lately, they just brought booze because that’s what she would use the money for anyways and this way they too could get smashed.

“Stupid drunken whore... I hate you.”

In shear determination that she would be nothing like her mother, Kelieahn walked past the group of boys, finding it easy to ignore their catcalls and rude comments that seemed to occur on a daily basis. It wasn’t until one of them reached out to touch her, did she react. Grabbing a hold of his arm, she pulled him forward towards her until he was in a perfect position. Slamming her knee up into his family jewels, Strider dropped his whimpering form to the ground. The others understood and kept their distance though they still leered at her backside. Kelieahn wasn’t stupid, she knew exactly what they were doing, but this morning like most, she chose to disregard it. Jogging towards the tavern, Kel paused in order to peer glance down at two fairly familiar men, standing by an old woman with a cane. Unsure of their names, she instead continued to the tavern. Once again stopping in order to watch a stranger with dark hair tied back with a leather thong heading away from the tavern, Strider thought about following him. Deciding that wouldn’t be wise, she instead walked into the tavern. Glancing around at the silence, she was glad when people started talking again, even if it was mere gossip about the man that just left.

There she is… the whore. Look at her with her hands all over that man… Nathan I think? Makes me sick that I have to work in the same place as that stupid wench.

Growling a little, Kelieahn walked around to the back of the tavern, putting on the apron she was forced to wear. Tying it behind her, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail so that it was out of her way. Shaking her head, she removed the hair-tie and instead quickly double French-braided it. Tying off each section, she walked back out, grabbing a tray in order to take out drinks and food to what customers still needed it. It was easy to ignore Bella because she did it all the time at home. This was no different except there were people that weren’t sleeping with her mother and she got paid. Putting on a pleasant face, which really wasn’t that difficult because she did like most of the people in town, Kel tended to whatever food or drink needs they might have had, ignoring the lusting gaze they gave her whorish mother.

I really… really… hate her.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Faithy
GWC Veteran
Member for 13 years
Progenitor Conversation Starter Author Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Novelist Greeter Arc Warden Contributor

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Haruka_Tenou on Mon Jul 09, 2007 12:51 am

~Lexie~


Lexie froze as he spoke. The words echoed within her mind as she allowed the panic to be pushed back. He sounded so sincere. There was so much pain. So much anger within him. What had caused him to become so vengeful? What was in his past that haunted him? The stories always spoke of Gregory as a monster. It was said that the town had found him covered in a child’s blood her corpse in his arms. Many had been vanishing and the village had been in an uproar. They had wanted answers and he had proven himself to be a murderer. The question was, were the stories true or had it all been a lie? Her mind reached out, his was a place of blind hatred and fury. Yet under it all, at his very core she felt something that was almost gentle. They had truly created their monster.

She allowed his pain to sink in. There was no point in fighting it. He would bring destruction, chaos and death. The people of her village deserved it. They were corrupt.

Yes… They were horrid people, only a selective few were actually honest. Tears welled up behind her eyelids running slowly down her cheeks. He would free her as she had done for him.

I trust you to keep your word...She allowed the words to flow to him. She meant it. There was something about him that stood out from those she knew. She just prayed that her instincts were correct in the matter. She had felt fear in the beginning. It was natural that she would. However; Things had changed the moment he had placed her within the ground. Strange as it might have seemed it was true. There was a clarity that could not be found above. She would remain calm and most importantly she was going to remain in the back of his mind.

They tried to murder you didn’t they? It was her final thought as her fingers reached out to touch the far wall. So many memories were stored within the soil. She did not wish to see it in vivid detail and yet she wished to understand him.




-Bella-




I watched as my daughter made her rounds. She would chat cheerfully with so many of the regulars and yet when she accidentally looked my direction there was utter loathing. I never could understand where the feelings came from. Had I not clothed her, fed her and kept a roof over her head throughout her life? Was that not enough? Apparently not. I felt the soft sigh escape me as I ran my palm over Nathan’s jaw. The stranger had made his way out and I wanted to make my way to a private room.

“Why do you do this Bella?” His words were so strange and yet familiar. He had asked me before and I had never been able to give him a good reason. Most of the time it was due to the fact that I was able to choose when I would be working and with whom. I did not have to deal with some imbecile of a boss. My daughter may have been fine with the idea of working for peanuts but I was not her. I could drink, eat and have pleasurable company.

“Why won’t you settle down? Work a decent job.” His words were a lie he told himself to make him more comfortable. He was a married man who went looking for more. He had found me. I smiled leaning in to place a soft kiss upon his cheek.

“You know that is not a possibility.” My response was soft as I felt a cold palm move around the base of my neck. With the fact the Nathan’s hands were around my waist I knew that someone else has decided to join us at the table.

“Bella, you will come join me later yes?” The voice said it was John. He was a special case. Bossy little beast yet I favored him most nights.

“Of course.” I turned my head slightly to smile up at him as I cuddled closer to Nathan. I was glad to have the stranger gone from our midst. He made me uncomfortable. It was as if his eyes had burned with a dark vengeance. John smiled once before making his way back to a separate table. His palm moved out grabbing one of the girls as she passed. That was John alright. He was never satisfied with anything or anyone. As I snuggled with Nathan bringing the sweet taste of alcohol to my lips I found my thoughts centered around a thought. Something was coming and it would end badly. All I wanted was to drown out the thought and so far it was working well. Just needed to drink and keep myself… Occupied.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

Haruka_Tenou
GWC Veteran
Member for 13 years
Progenitor Conversation Starter Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Greeter

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jakob Gray on Mon Jul 09, 2007 7:43 pm

Cairne made his way throughout town, ignoring the whispers about "the daemon", or whatever insults were whispered that were caught by his keen ear. He always gave people more than enough space- the residents had half a mind to swing if he came close. Even so, he dragged his feet along the grubby cobbled streets.

None knew why Cairne's eyes were the way they were. Cairne himself thought it may have been the horrible sickness he had caught as a child, one that caused any light upon his eyes to burn- people thought he was cursed, even after it went away. Whatever it was, it had left scars around his eyes.

"S....Sabard." Cairne said, finding his only friend climbing up off of the ground, red. "What happened...?" His lack of sleep showed, though it was a surprise to see Cairne during the day anyway. "...I can't sleep. My dreams weren't... so bad. You were beaten...?" Cairne was not very skilled at speaking. He spoke very rarely, so much to the point where it was hard to turn his many thoughts into coherency.
Last edited by Jakob Gray on Mon Jul 09, 2007 8:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Jakob Gray
Member for 11 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversation Starter Author Inspiration Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Himros on Mon Jul 09, 2007 8:06 pm

" you where beaten?" that voice. He knew that voice. "cairne, Is that? I am fine. You sound troubled?" he said. He was cold now, and Tired, The Red marks Striped across his body ached. The dirt on his hands still wouldnt come off, Rubbing more frantically "help me, The dirt won't come off my hands ..." The grains, they felt Filthy, Scrubbing A drop of blood fell from the tip of his fingers scratches opening up on his palms.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Himros
Member for 11 years
Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jakob Gray on Mon Jul 09, 2007 8:20 pm

"I am. I can't sleep..... the dirt... you need a bath?" Cairne looked around, finding the town well in a few seconds. "Here." He mumbled, grabbing Sabard by the wrist and leading him over to the well. "Quick, we'll get water and wash your hands before we're seen.... I don't want to be caught.... they don't let us use it." The words were coming out more easily now, as Cairne grew accustomed to using his vocal chords once more. He lowered the bucket, hearing the sploosh as it broke the surface. And thirty seconds later, the black bucket was filled to the brim with water, some spilling over the sides onto the ground. "Here."

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Jakob Gray
Member for 11 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversation Starter Author Inspiration Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Himros on Mon Jul 09, 2007 8:34 pm

Dipping his hands into the water, he shivered, It was cold and the edges of the bucket where slimy. but it must be clean. Scrubbing quickly, He felt releived, There clean now "thank you, cairne. Let us head back to your home we will discuss what troubles you?"

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Himros
Member for 11 years
Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jakob Gray on Thu Jul 12, 2007 6:40 pm

"That sounds good.... I don't enjoy the stares we get."

He still remembered the time where he nearly killed that boy. They were both about fifteen then. It was just a random encounter, really. The boy was as bad as the rest of the town when it came to hating Cairne. The boy, being bigger and stronger, thought it would be fun to pick a fight with Cairne. But it turned out for the worst for the other boy- Cairne had paralyzed him from the waist down. It was how Cairne fought- hurt them so that they don't come back. Though he didn't spend more than two weeks time in the town jail, Cairne was met with an even more hostile populace henceforth.

Cairne took hold of Sabard's wrist and led him towards Cairne's small house. The place was in good shape, though it was incredibly small, with just a bed, a barrel with what seemed to have bread in it, and a table with two chairs.Cairne opened the door, shutting the latch. Then he led Sabard over to sit at the tiny table.
"I was able to buy this with the money... that I saved, working as a scullery in the diner." He said, smiling meekly. "Now I can eat on something. But.... I can't explain it.... I can't sleep... And it's not bright outside... I don't know... My dreams haven't come... For that I am thankful, but... Something is happening." He looked out the only window into the street. "How I wish I could enjoy the day and not be awake all night..."
Last edited by Jakob Gray on Sat Jul 14, 2007 10:33 pm, edited 3 times in total.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Jakob Gray
Member for 11 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversation Starter Author Inspiration Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Faithy on Fri Jul 13, 2007 3:48 am

After what seemed to be forever, there was a break in the crowd and she was able to eat for the first time in forever. Sliding down onto a bar stool, Kelieahn quietly ate the eggs and toast, chewing it politely with immaculate manners. Sure, her mother didn’t teach her much, but she did at least demand that Strider ate perfectly, like a woman. Chew like you have a secret… Rolling her eyes, she took a swig of the milk, grinning at the bar-keep who had been watching her in amusement. After finishing up, she walked into the back in order to put her plate beside the sink so that the dishwasher could take care of them.

“She seriously needs to get a grip on reality before something bad happens to her. The stupid whore.”

Returning back to the main area, Kel hummed a bit under her breath. Things seemed different today, almost as if they had stepped into another reality. Shaking her head to remove such thoughts from her mind, Kelieahn shifted her gaze towards Bella. Every time the teen would glance over, the woman was staring at her. Something told the eighteen year old that Bella didn’t understand why there was such hatred stemming from her daughter. Grunting in irritation as her slut mother attempted to sway Nathan into the back, Strider honestly thought about walking over to the two and interjecting. It would be a waste of time because there would be another man in Bella’s bed later on.

Wow, would you look at that? She’s hanging all over one man and another has approached her, probably for a screw later on tonight. Hell, she’ll probably have sex with them both and then invite ten more into her bed. Definitely not going home tonight except to shower and grab clean clothes. On second thought, I can do that elsewhere. That is why I keep a bag here… damn bitch keeping me from my own home.

Growling softly, Kelieahn cleared the table her mother was sitting at, walking back to set the dirty dishes down. Clenching her jaw to keep herself from shouting in supreme irritation, Kelieahn took in a few breaths. Upon hearing her name, she headed back out to give a fresh round of beer to a few of the tables. Walking past Bella once again, Strider glared at the alcoholic. Finally, unable to control her temper any longer, Kel grabbed a nearby tray and slammed it against her mother’s face before dumping the glass the woman had been drinking from all over her head. Dropping the tray to the table, Kelieahn threw the glass into a nearby wall.

“You’re such an alcoholic whore. Do you know why I haven’t been home for days? I have grown sick and tired of walking into the house, seeing mounds of empty bottles, glasses, and clothing. I am sick of walking in and seeing you screwing a random guy on the table or the floor or the couch! I am sick of not having any food in the house because you spend all your whoring money on booze! You are not my mother… you are just a woman who gave birth to me and I LOATHE you!”

Turning around, Kelieahn gathered her money, heading to the back. Throwing off the apron, she grabbed her bag, swinging it over her shoulder before walking out of the tavern. Heading down the street, she ignored the normal catcalls and made her way towards the outskirts of town. There was an old place nearby that she often went to for solitude. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a mound and a shadow, but it was passed off as a stray animal. Pushing open the door to the hut, Strider walked inside, closing the door behind her. Dropping her bag onto a makeshift couch, Kel sighed heavily.

“What a mess…”

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Faithy
GWC Veteran
Member for 13 years
Progenitor Conversation Starter Author Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Novelist Greeter Arc Warden Contributor

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Himros on Sat Jul 14, 2007 8:33 am

"cairne, For a village Leper, You are more perceptive than most others. Tell me what is it you think is happening?" He said, The web popping into mind. He wasn't sure if he could talk about that. and that would lead down the path to his 'blindness', Better to let Cairne think his way through things. Feeling his way across the Dry cracked Excuse (GAH sp?) for a table. He need something to hold. Grabbing a small wooden spoon, Probably stolen, He held it tapping it for the pitch, It felt like it would splinter at any moment.

The scent of the bread filled the Room, It was, Nice to smell something alive in this hut, Maybe things where Finnaly turning the other way for his friend, Maybe he would escape the torture of Poverty.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Himros
Member for 11 years
Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jakob Gray on Sat Jul 14, 2007 3:24 pm

"I don't know... I feel that... change. Change is coming, and I'm not sure... is it for the better?" Cairne kept glancing out the window. Something was.... happening, but he couldn't tell. He scratched at his neck, ripping a hunk off of the bread loaf. "Are you hungry?" He asked, eating the dry bread.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Jakob Gray
Member for 11 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversation Starter Author Inspiration Conversationalist

Re: Dreaming of Death.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Himros on Sat Jul 14, 2007 6:06 pm

"nay, Cairne, It is your bread. Indeed change is coming although for better or worse I cannot say." Opening and closing his eye's beneath the cloth Sabard felt the usual Itch, The coming head-ache would be almost unbearable, He beleived it had something to do with restraining his sight, But he could not say for sure. The web is un-raveling(sp?) The lies coming undone, all would be revealed soon, whether it was wanted or not.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Himros
Member for 11 years
Conversationalist

Next

Post a reply

RolePlayGateway is a site built by a couple roleplayers who wanted to give a little something back to the roleplay community. The site has no intention of earning any profit, and is paid for out of their own pockets.

If you appreciate what they do, feel free to donate your spare change to help feed them on the weekends. After selecting the amount you want to donate from the menu, you can continue by clicking on PayPal logo.

 

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest