Ghosts from the Past

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Ghosts from the Past

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tiko on Sat May 05, 2012 2:09 pm

as written by Cryovizard
Messor sat against the stone of the mountain, precariously balanced on a small outcropping of stone. The hybrid stared off in the distance, troubled by the roiling emotions he felt. Whisper seemed to be avoiding him since their confrontation, and he laughed bitterly. How could he blame her, for coming back from beyond the grave, giving her an edged gift, and then losing his temper all in the same day. Snarling, he loosed a bolt of lightning into the forest, feeling none the better for his venting.

Leaning back, Messor brought his clawed hand in front of his eyes, feeling another wave of regret steal through him. Malum, his companion since nearly the beginning, shattered and spirit swept away. He had reforged the pieces, but his old friend was as silent as the rest of the ghosts that haunted him.

The hybrid was tired of losing everything.


as written by Tiko
Whisper carefully picked her way to the entrance of the temple with one hand brushing along the cool stone walls to guide her way. Overhead she heard the audible crack of lightning split the air, and for a moment she hesitated. Perhaps it was foolish to go to him after what happened the last time. Neither of them had a good reign on their emotions at the moment - as was proven by their heated argument the last time they had spoken. Pushing her doubts away and after only a moments deliberation Whisper made her way up the last of the steps and into the warmth of the sunlight.

“Messor,” Whisper offered softly. She didn't approach him though, opting instead to remain within the safety of the temple entrance. The precipice was far too precarious for her to navigate blindly and she had begun binding her eyes with bandages again. It had quickly become apparent that Messor's efforts to restore her vision were unsuccessful. Within a few days she would be completely blind once more. The distress of losing that fleeting gift of Messor's had played a large part in her seclusion these past days, but she couldn't quite find the words to explain the confusion and turmoil his presence was causing.

“Come down from there, I think that we should talk,” Whisper finally offered.

as written by Cryovizard
Messor glanced down at the sound of his name, but then kept watching the horizon. He realized he had been avoiding Whisper as well, but it seems she had sought him out finally. Hearing her request, he sighed heavily. Might as well face his demons as they happened.

Leaping into the void, he used his magnesis abilities to bring him through the entrance, dropping to the ground lightly. He looked at Whisper's shrouded eyes with a pang of regret, his gift had rejected. He touched the patch over his own half regenerated eye, wincing at the spark of pain. Shaking his head, he answered.

"I'm here, Whisper. What's on your mind?" The hybrid's tone was quiet, and he'd managed to calm the storm within him to a degree. It spoke something of his regret for losing his temper.


as written by Tiko
“I'm not sure where to begin, but I feel I owe you an explanation for the other day,” Whisper explained. “Help me down to the path, and we can talk while we walk?” Whisper offered.

With one hand on Messor's arm to keep her step and to find her way, Whisper waited until they had descended from the precipice before she started to speak again.

“You know what few do, the extent of what lays behind the facade of Whisper. But there's more that you don't. Much happened in the year you were gone. Those that held Whisper sought to return balance by suppressing the parts of her that were at odds with one another, those that were most strongly influenced by Nyx. They were successful for the most part, but they did not understand that Nyx's influence goes far deeper than simply memories. Your return... it has caused... confusion, distress, conflict where before there was tranquility and cohesion,” Whisper explained. “In the time you and I knew on another, not all of us felt the same towards yourself or Nyx. It was... difficult. Your return has awakened... aspects of Whisper that have been dormant for a long time, memories that were fragmented and forgotten. There is instability, and a great deal of anger within her.”

as written by Cryovizard
Messor silently listened to Whisper's word, feeling them resonate within him. To a degree, it was a mirror of his own inner turmoil, and so he understood all the more deeply for it. To his surprise, he felt his own pain and anger fade as he listened.

"I understand, for the most part. When I woke up again, I had no recollection of who I was. There was simply anger and pain." Glancing at Whisper, he continued. "When I finally found those memories, I was lost and even more furious. It took a man who wanted me dead to save me from myself."

He paused as he remembered that warrior, icy and blazing, the soul's of man and wolf intertwined. Shaking his head, he thought then on Whisper, of how the several different sides of her mind could fight and clash.

"So what would you like me to do? I very much doubt leaving would restore the balance that was put in place."


as written by Tiko
Whisper shook her head. “I don't know. If I knew the answer to that... “ Whisper sighed deeply. “I wouldn't be idling my time away in an abandoned temple trying to pick up the pieces of my life. I only felt that you should know that this was not your doing, and I don't avoid you out of anger towards you. You saved my life once, and for that I owe you. As do I for what you tried to do for me,” Whisper explained as she brushed her finger tips over the bandages wound about her eyes.

“I don't know where to go from here, but my earlier offer remains. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, it's the least I can do. You've endured far worse than I. Perhaps the company will do us both some good.”

as written by Cryovizard
Messor 's mouth quirked upwards in a smile. "Perhaps."

He closed his eyes for a few moments, and when he opened them he watched the sky. "A little more than three thousand years now. I'm old Whisper, yet I see those older than I and cannot figure how they bear the losses of the years. Every single one I've cared for, I feel them."

His head dropped, and he reached to place a hand on Whisper's shoulder. "I'm tired of losing, Whisper."


as written by Tiko
Whisper moved her hand up to rest atop Messor's own. It took her several moments to find her own words after listening to the weight of weariness and grief in his own. “I can't even begin to compare losses, but I feel it when you're near me. The weight of it is suffocating... I would say it will be fine, but that would be a lie. I think those losses will always be there, we just need to find reasons to carry on. Things worth having to make the losses worth it in the end.”

Whisper paused and a wry smile cross her lips. “I think we've both lost our way in that regard. Drifting without purpose or meaning. My beliefs used to be so strong, so unwavering, no mountain was too high to climb no loss too great. But my convictions took everything from me. If these past three years can break me so, I don't envy your immortality.”

There was a weariness in her tone, some of it Messor's influence, but some of it her own. The weight of Messor's hand on her shoulder was comforting though. For too long she had been devoid of any sort of companionship. There was Reis of course, but she couldn't talk about these things with him, he wouldn't understand.

as written by Cryovizard
Messor felt a bittersweet smile cross his face. "Immortality is only a blessing to mortals. Those of us that never die have found it to be a curse with precious few benefits."

His other hand found his amulet, and he laughed quietly. He looked to Whisper, and for a moment forgot his own troubles and focused on the woman. Her own battles had left her a shadow of her former self, were even death left him as able as ever. In a way, she was the embodiment of the reason he'd used before to live. Where others were consumed by the burdens they bore, the hybrid had always stood and taken them. He had used immortality for the most part selflessly, going so far as to forsake himself for others.

And then Messor fell, for and because of the only one who insisted he indulge himself. The irony of it all amused him.

"So, I've heard rumors you've made the Aschen your enemies?"


as written by Tiko
At Messor's inquiry into the Aschen, Whisper stepped away from him and free of the hand upon her shoulder. “Word gets around I suppose. But they're just one of many. I have a feeling there will never be any shortage of people looking to find me. Some for more nefarious reasons than others. I don't fear the Aschen. For all of their technology and weapons, they're just human in the end. The things I fear have never been of flesh and blood.”

as written by Cryovizard
Messor stood quietly as she finished. He'd already decided to stand with her, but her explanation simply hardened his resolve. He knew he was making the same choice as before, as every single time before. The hybrid didn't care. He'd stand beside the devil if he gave him reason enough. It was what he did. What he'd realized he'd become.

Messor felt compelled by curiosity to a final question. "What do you fear then?"
I've moved on. If anyone stumbles on any of my old roleplays or wants to hit me up for nostalgia sake, feel free to shoot me an e-mail me at RPGTiko@gmail.com or hit me up on http://www.storytellerscircle.com. Good luck RolePlaygateway.

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Re: Ghosts from the Past

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby CHain_Way on Thu May 10, 2012 5:54 am

Whatever the pair might expect during their quietly-spoken conversation, it most likely wasn't the interruption they would soon face. Far above them in the sky would come the faintest of crackles; like that of a firework about to be released close by, accompanied by a tiny spec of blackness against the pale blue, A shape was just about visible, should they look up at the sound, and gradually increased in size as whatever it was plummeted downwards towards the ground where they stood. More than the oddity of something falling from the sky however, would be the sense of familiarity the thing held; a vague sense of a long-lost friend returning to them... Her presence, her power almost shivered through the air in a telling of what was to come.

As the shape drew closer however, a small wail would echo from a tiny, toothed mouth and the shape of bat-like wings would be seen flailing frantically to try and right the small imp's figure before he fell to the floor. Thankfully the creature's effort wasn't futile as the result was his small frame tumbling into a nearby outcrop of rock with a pained cry, slowly rolling down the stoney hill until he came to a stop, breathing heavily after the unpleasant journey.

Black eyes blinked quickly as Mephit's body twitched, suddenly righting himself in an instant and flitting towards the pair who spoke so solemnly, his movement quick and nervous as he wound himself around Whisper's right leg, tiny clawed fingers tugging urgency at the fabric of her clothing. "The Whispy One!" He declared, his voice a chatter of frantic emotion as he continued to tug. "Mephit has been looking, and searching for months, and months more! Wispy One, where have you been!?" He spoke as if it was a personal insult to himself that she had gone, and only then did he turn to Messor, blinking slowly with a small sniff of his pointed nose.

"You! You smell familiar. You know her, yes? You will help her, yes?" He returned to tug at Whisper's clothing, peering up at her. "The Mistress suffers, she does! You will help, Wispy One? Mephit can't do it by himself!"
Orsa of Terminus

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Re: Ghosts from the Past

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tiko on Thu May 10, 2012 8:26 am

Messor's question, though not entirely unexpected, gave Whisper pause. Before she could give voice to her reply however, her attention was drawn elsewhere. “Was that you?” Whisper asked. No, Messor hadn't moved from her side. Furthermore, there was something familiar in the air. It was subtle but it elicited feelings within Whisper that she couldn't explain. A sense of loss, mingled with a subconscious yearning.

Turning, she reached a hand for Messor to reassure herself that he was still at her side, and to orient herself to his position. It had been foolish to leave the temple, out in the open like this she was too vulnerable without her vision. Stepping back beside Messor, Whisper didn't detect the small imp until it rather forcefully latched about her leg. Recognition swiftly dawned on her.

“Messor, send it away,” Whisper urged him. Unfortunately amidst the scrambling of tiny nails and the frantic babbling of the small imp, it was too late. Mephit had spoken the words Whisper had been dreading to hear.

She knew Messor, and she knew his attachment to Nyx ran much deeper than her own ever had, even during the peak of the succubus' influence. She had gone pale and a sickening sensation grew inside of her. Leave this place it told her, but she had nowhere to go.

“Messor...” she began again, her words hesitant and full of uncertainty.

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Re: Ghosts from the Past

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lobos on Tue May 15, 2012 9:26 am

Stiffening as he recognized the imp, Messor narrowed his eyes at Mephit. Sparks danced between his fingers as he heard its words, the painful reminder of what he'd lost enough to distract his control. Hearing Whisper's pleading voice, he closed his eyes for a moment, struggling between the urge to annihilate the imp and suspicion to its sudden appearance. Reaching a hand to squeeze Whisper's reassuringly, he turned his attention to Mephit with cold precision.

"What are you talking about Mephit? Nyx is dead. I felt her go." The hybrid's voice was cold, tightly leashed. The stirrings of crimson bled into the edges of his lambent eyes. "Now of all times is not the time for cruel jokes, little demon. Speak, or flee as fast as you can run."

In reaction to his black mood and hard words, the chain around his right arm stirred, links rustling over each other as it uncoiled slightly. Messor's pain was still raw and deep. If Mephit was acting out of delusion, the hybrid's grief was still enough to find release in a bloody rage. Forcing the rising tide down, he glanced at Whisper, lips curling into a faint frown at the distraught on her face.

Mephit had little time to explain himself before Messor's restraint slipped.
Serenade the moon, and let loose your howl.

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