Maris Morisollen's Story

Home, home, home. That was all that floated through the mind of the ten-year-old child as she walked on her way through Central Park. Of course, it was a bit strange that this little girl, clothed in her cover-ups, was walking by herself. The bag she carried was filled with her normal clothes, and her dance shoes. Nothing more, and nothing less, just the way she preferred it. Though, it was strange that the ten-year-old was concerned with how much her bag contained than with if she was going to be able to make it home in time. However, just before she had left her dance school, the young light brunette child had phoned her guardian to let them know that she was, in fact, going to be possibly late for dinner. She let out a sigh, and loneliness scratched at the back of her mind again.

It wasn't often that the dark brown eyed girl felt this way, and whenever she looked at the blue topaz stone that was the only charm attached to the gold-colored chain, Maris Morisollen couldn't help but smile a little again. The bracelet had been given to her by her mother who was fighting lung cancer, just weeks before the strong-willed woman passed on. That was what she did, before the sudden realization that she was tired, her feet were aching and seeming to scream for a rest, hit her like a slap to the face. Another sigh was heard from the young one as she decided to sit down on a bench not too far from a man in a suit holding a cup of something from a small coffee shop. However, little Maris found her attention dragged away from the man to the group underneath the tree.

She was more shocked, however, at the dazed and disorientated girl up within the branches of said tree. However, she stayed seated, believing that the group underneath the tree was probably more than enough for the strange woman could handle.

Dorian had to admit, he was paying some attention to the people around him. Like the little girl who'd sat on the bench with him, watching the tree-drama was at least mildly entertaining. The girl perched in the tree looked like she might fall any minute, flopping around on the branch, and, upon further inspector, was dressed strangely. No shoes, for one, and a weird style of clothing he hadn't really seen before. His first impression? She may in fact be on drugs. That would explain climbing trees in central park midday dressed like that.
She wasn't really loud, but he did catch her questions. Where was she? Yes, he thought, taking another sip of tea, probably a druggie.

Maris, even though she paid no attention to the man she sat next to, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the girl's question. Of course, she shook her head sadly. To her, Tallyho seemed to be one of those people that abused drugs. The way she was talking, the way she was dressed, and DEFINITELY the way she handled the situation seemed to point in the direction that, yes, the girl was higher than a kite. Or, she could possibly be insane, and just not know it.

Maris shuddered a little, but made no point to move. She didn't want to really get caught up in the conversation.

Is that so….?” She mumbled. Tallyho struggled to get up. Her dress didn’t help her in the chilly weather. The others were acting so strange. In fact, people who she hadn’t even spoken to were stealing glances. Keeping her poker face solid, she made a lame march to the other side of the walk way— towards the lake.
“This is so surreal,” she whispered. She had nearly forgotten that her amethyst glowed hotter as more people approached.
She didn’t get far before she heard the brisk snapping of treetops, or rather one very peculiar tree top. She turned around to see the tree she was stuck in only moments ago, hanging lopsided. On one side its roots ripped from the ground. On the other side, its green-orange leaves hung towards the ground, like the hair of a ditzy girl tilting her head. She stopped and stared at the great plant, eager to watch it tip on its side. To confirm that what she saw was true.
And surely it did, the tree landed with a startling shuffle of a noise. It didn’t seem to land on anyone, but it definitely fell hard. Tallyho drew closer and sunk through the other girls like a spirit. It seemed that there was something odd about the spot where the tree was planted.

A young fellow sat in a faded chair in the midst of a nearly empty room, save for the bed and linens bought to make it somewhat comfortable, if not livable at that. He had the quality of boyishness with his dark brown messy hair and seemingly mischievously glazed blue eyes. But with his cheeks that could have cut bread, lean but well muscled frame, and a stillness few youth as young as he could ever achieve, he seemed too serious in turn. He quietly listened to a mousy, brown-haired woman as she spoke, noting things as she went on her fingers with her index finger of the other hand, it was a familiar tap-tap in his ears. "There is food in the fridge, I've got it labeled with a sticker for you. And-..." His mother hummed, fretting. He listened to all she had to say, truthfully. But was tiring of her latest decision to dote on him today, and make sure he was all in order to survive the day before him without her there for him, it wasn't like he hadn't been through it before. His blind, blue eyes blearily attempted to focus in the vague direction of her voice echoing somewhere above his head from the chair he sat in, with mild success after years of practice, and he nodded whenever she paused to take a breath (like clock-work, oddly enough). "Mary, we'll be late, the boy will survive until we get home. Come now," Came a rough, gravely male voice from the other side of the fairly spacious apartment/lounge they rented whilst staying in New York for new business opportunities for his old man, waiting at the door. It was rare his father talked much with actual words, and less hrumping, grumbling grunts, and even rarer he seemed to be trying to save Falke a little more fond doting by his mother. Mary sighed, nitpickingly touching his shirt by making sure all buttons were buttoned and smoothed out wrinkles once again, before kissing him lightly on the fore-head and departed out of the room, "Good bye." "Bye." Falke breathed deeply once the door had shut, the voices of his mother and father departing down the hall, soon disappearing into the elevator he guessed and on their way to the dinner they where attending with other business associates, releasing it with an exasperated but amused snort. It had only taken five minutes this time to get her through her babying him and hustled out the door, which was an improvement at the very least. And she was constantly improving as he grew older, maybe one day he'd have her not blink an eye. Not likely, but still a pleasant thought. He returned to present thoughts instead of high day-dreams, glancing with bemusement around the empty room. What too do with his freedom the rest of the afternoon? Humm. "Otter?" He called, softly. In return came the slow, faithful pads as the old mutt walked to the chair its' master sat in, flopping down to lay at his feet, his tail whacking a few times into his shins. Falke leaned down, rubbing the ears of his faithful companion over the years as the dog pressed his head into his palm. "Want to go for a walk boy, Central Park, eh?" In response, Otter made a sound nothing sort of a scoffing groan, removing his head from being scratched and attempted to hide it between his front paws. Falke snorted, figuring as much. He struggled for a moment, pushing himself up out of the chair, currently attempting to engulf him whole with all the creaking and moaning noises it made while sucking him into the material. On his feet, he walked to his small closet, opening the door grabbing a black turtle-necked sweater to tug on over the blue dress shirt he currently wore, and accompanied it with a old dark brown leather business coat that had once been his fathers', imagining himself to now look like a respectable if causal young business man. It would do well enough to be able to walk outside in the slightly nippy weather, and come home without a cold, he was certainly eager to keep the doting sessions with his dearest mother five minutes or less. He made his way to the door, grabbing the keys to the apartment stuffing them in the jacket's pocket, gingerly shuffling around on the kitchen counter for his 'sunglasses' and settled them lightly on the bridge of his nose, and grabbed his walking stick leaning against the wall besides the door, tapping it experimentally on the toe of boots he wore. All in working order now, he paused before heading out, casting a forlorn voice forth, "Otter, you coming?" He was answered by something resembling a loud snore echoing across the apartment. Could dogs snore? Apparently. He rolled his eyes, opening the door with a creak, setting out down the hall and elevator when he came to it. He dipped his head politely as he slipped past the door-man, and out into the relatively crowded, smelly street of New York. In reality it wasn't all too bad, but it certainty wasn't home for him.

The trip through the winding city streets, somewhat hazardous cross-walks, he met little foot-traffic on his way to the park thankfully. Most surprisingly going out of there way of there busy lives that had worlds revolving around them alone to give him room as he confidently strode amongst the people around him. He could have liked a little less pity in the looks or whispers he earned, but what was, was, and he dealt with it by simply ignoring it. As he made it to the park the air seemed a little cleaner, and the honks of distant cars of city seemed farther away than they really were, it was the most peaceful place in the big city he'd found more often than not, a home away from home for him really. He walked calmly, slowly clicking his walking stick on the narrow pavement every now and again, sure never to stray from the path. Enjoying the quiet. He soon grew closer to sounds of commotion going on further ahead on the path, noting what seemed to be a bunch of gaggling girls talking amongst one another, shortly followed by what sounded like a tree falling now, felt like a tree falling down as the ground shook briefly under his feet even at his distance. A feathery brown eyebrow raised to be seen over the rim of his 'sunglasses', nostrils flared uncertainty. Okay. That was odd. New York was just weird, yes, that explained it all certainty. He convinced himself to continue moving again, certain it was just some weird New York thing/people, up to the point where the bench he usually sat at most days he came here, finding it occupied fully. Well, it was likely both could see far better than he and knew was was going on more or less, perhaps they'd tell him, eh, it was worth a shot; even if he didn't get a seat today, pity. "Do either of you mind, what's going on?" He mused lightly, questioning. Hoping his accent wasn't butchering his English too badly, he'd worked hard enough on it and it should have been literate sounding enough by now. He rested his walking stick against a slack leg, as he waited, politely, for an answer.

Maris watched closely, but her attention was drawn from the group of girls to the blind man talking to the other one she sat next to. Not wanting to overhear, the girl scooted closer to her edge of the bench, her mind and focus now on the girls. She shivered, shuddered, and looked to her left wrist in almost a passive shock. The heat that she felt from it was scaring her.

When she heard that one girl had pulled out a knife, the little one was up and on her feet. However, she couldn't bring herself to leave, something glued her there to that very spot. Fear? Most likely, since she was starting to shake uncontrollably from it. Her eyes were wide, and she could barely process what was going on. A possible druggie, one girl wielding a knife and waving it at the direction of the fallen tree, a blind man, and apparently the person she had been sitting next to was a perfect gentleman. This must be some weird dream!

It was easy enough to pretend that this was just New York, weird things happening there day by day, but then again-... Falke felt his hackles raising up as if he were a feral dog ready to fight or flee, whichever seemed productive in the situation at hand. He could tell something just wasn't right, and couldn't be explained just as simple weirdness. And his hand felt oddly warm, a soft heat searing from the metal coils wrapped around his finger and the jewel, a star-shaped sapphire, lay transfixed within. But he didn't pay it any more mind, save for noting it was a odd annoyance and occurrence in the beginning of a bitter fall season in the city around him, considering the situation at hand. What was going on, seriously?

He listened intently to what the stranger had to say, growing more uneasy. But his facial features remained carefully blank, thoughtful even. Generally when people began freaking out about something, and butter-knife, or knife in general, was involved, that didn't mean anything good was happening. Yes, it was likely a good idea to leave, especially before it got to out of hand, whatever was happening. Just as he decided he would turn and leave and walk another trail in the park far away from whatever was going on here today and thank the stranger for his answers as he went, he barely kept himself from nearly skittering sideways when sudden sound and movement close at hand crashed abruptly against his heightened and alerted senses. He tensed, strung up as tightly as a hunting bow. His nostrils flared as he snorted in surprise. Glancing vaguely in the direction of the sound at the bench, the other person, a little person at that, that had sat at the bench along with the stranger who had spoken with him and answered his questions had gotten up suddenly, he imagined he could smell the fear coming off her little shaking form. Okay. Nothing scary, more or less, here. But geez', he wasn't normally this easily jumpy. "Leaving seems rather logical." He hummed roughly in answer, finally. Just as a sudden explosion of sound ontop of what was already going on, clicking, crackling, and hissing, like some giant, monster bug-thing. He took a step back then, a thin line on his maw. Okay, yes, leaving sounded very good right now.

Maris still stood where she was, and she watched as the gentleman pulled the blind person along with him in his race to get out of here. She, herself, wanted to run, but her feet were positively glued to the sidewalk on which she stood. The young girl bit her lip to hold back the scream that rose up in her throat. She tried to move and follow the two men out of there, but she was panicking because she still couldn't move.

The sharp intensity of the heat on her left wrist, however, broke her trance. She gave her bracelet a quick glance before taking a breath and running after the blind man and the gentleman. Hopefully, Maris would make it far away from here and closer to home.

“Well get something!” Tallyho hissed as she broke from the young man’s grip and veered off towards the right of the beast. The cyclopean wasn’t exactly paying attention to her, however. It kept its sights on the other two. Without sound, it broke into a manic dash towards the two, its teeth clicked rapidly.
Tallyho found that as her opportunity. She had to kill it right then and she wasn’t going to stop until it was dead. She was always taught that letting a cyclopean roam free was just like killing five people. The blonde hurried across the grass trying to make as little sound as possible as she went.
Once she got a hold of the knife she looked back to check how far the beast had gotten. Really, the cyclopean was very unorganized. It abandoned its quest for the two teens and went running after a group consisting of the other young people who had run off earlier.
“Hey! Come back.”

The cyclopean kept going. It wasn’t until her third taunt that the creature turned to her. Tallyho gripped the knife and narrowed her eyes. The sun was setting and the light tore through them like a march of madmen. The silhouette of the cyclopean turned and finally, it came running. She locked her sights on its chest, where the heart was and held the lifted the knife. The dull, useless knife. She sprinted forward and prayed to feel the squishy bruised flesh protecting the heart’s cavity.
She didn’t even feel its breath on her neck. She took another step forward and squealed in pain. She stepped into a heaping pile of…black glass? She knelt down and took one of the shards, held it up to examine it in the light, but no light came through.
“Onyx…”
An odd sensation engulfed her. Her heart dropped and she felt like she was falling. She was positive that her eyes were open but all she could see was black.
Then she felt the ground beneath her. Laying face up she opened her eyes to see stars, bright white stars, long yellow streaks, and strawberry milk gas clouds. She stood up, dazzled and panicked. The floor was cold, almost marble like. It was a transparent pink but all she could see below her were lights and planets.
Then she scanned her general vicinity. Each of the young people from before were sprawled out on the dreamy pink path way. Even the ones who ran.
“Why… I’m not too sure what going on,” Tallyho mumbled. At least she meant to. Her voice was amplified, and echoed.

Dorian came back to reality slowly, eyes taking in the insanity around him without actually comprehending what was going on. The last thing he remembered... The last thing he remembered was running from that thing and then he'd been falling, somehow. His brain was finally catching up with the sudden scenery jump, and he sat up in a sudden motion, finally seeing but still not understanding a sky above him that looked like it had been painted by a particularly artistic six-year-old girl.
He looked around himself and saw all of those people from the park- the little girl, the blind boy he'd been running with, even the girl from the tree who had apparently just spoken. It was like he was in a dream, a painfully realistic dream and he wasn't waking up.

A slight tired groan escaped Anagenisi, as she rolled on her side of what appeared to be a hard ground, not the grass she was standing on not long ago. Her brain was frazzled, all she remembered was watching the girl from teh tree plunger the weak butter knife into the beast, ad then a sudden feeling of falling and slipping into black. She squeezed her clear blue eyes shut tight and pushed herself up from the ground, and into a stance. Her eyes wandered around the confusing space, it seemed like a little child's dream, where they would run away and maybe escape. Looking down at the ground, she noticed the people from the park, and now her head seemed to throb with confusion, yet she noticed two were conscious, the girl from the tree and a boy who she thought was on a bench before. Shaking her head a bit, a to get her eyes straight she realized, thsi wasn't any dream. But at the same time, was this even a reality?

Maris let out a small groan as she woke up against the cold ground. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and stood, clutching the straps of her bag as she looked around. Blinking, the sky's colors particularly amused her, but her attention was torn from it to the others that had woken up. That is, until the sight of the strange blonde from the tree being engulfed by a light. Then another one of the girls that had been almost attacked by the monster was brave enough to step into it as well. Humming a little, Maris disregarded the others for a moment as her feet carried her, along with the echos of her footsteps, closer to the group that was around the light.

Curiosity won this time, despite the fact she was humming to keep it in check by distracting herself. Maris grew cautious, however, as she neared the light. She stopped a respectable distance away, only to observe as of now. The young dancer didn't want to step through it herself right now.

Tallyho found herself on her back again. Only this time there was the sky. She immediately dug her fingers into the ground for proof of home. Grass. Then, she sat up. Not too far away a familiar wicker basket turned upside down.
“My apples…” She stood up and quietly tiptoed over to her belonging. When she pulled the basket up there were only seven brown apples rotting in the grass. Her brows furrowed. Just how long was she gone?
“I was only in that strange place for an hour at the most. “
Then there was the matter of why the others littered the ground around her. She really wished that they hadn’t followed her home. It wasn’t like she could take care of them.
So she hung her basket in the rook of her arm and looked back. It didn’t seem like anyone was awake yet, so hopefully they wouldn’t have seen her as she slowly lingered away from the waking spot.

Maris rolled to her side, on top of her bag, and opened her reluctant eyes. The young girl was more shocked by the second change in scenery for today than by the fact that she had actually survived stepping into the light. She was oblivious to the strange girl leaving, so that was one thing counting for the disappearance of the girl that had been in the tree. Again, Maris put herself into a standing position out of habit. She had been taught to stand up if you were able to, and keep on going. So, she stood and glanced around at the still sleeping people to more of the scenery, shocked into an appreciative silence.

The shock wore off after five minutes as she finally noticed the retreating figure of the girl that had killed the monster. Maris didn't want to be left behind, so she wound her way among the still sleeping others and quickened her pace to catch up with the girl. "Hey! Where are you going!?" The question came out of her mouth a bit louder than she intended, but she was honestly curious.

Tallyho jumped. Well, so much for getting away. “I was… going back to town,” she hummed.
“You’re all going back to town,” a man-ish, unfamiliar voice cued in. But all Tallyho could see from the direction the voice came was an orange cat running down the hill. His short legs went far, especially for a cat with such a portly figure.
Tallyho looked at the younger girl. “Did you hear that also?”
She gazed down at the cat who sat in front of them suavely swiping his tail.
“I think it was the cat...Or am I crazy?”

Maris glanced to the girl and then back to the cat that sat in front of the two. Gulping, Maris slowly nodded. "Ye-yeah, I heard it," she stuttered, "and I don't think you're crazy." Maris, herself, was questioning her sanity, though. She couldn't get over the fact that she possibly heard a man's voice come from the orange cat in front of them. Something wasn't right, not at all.

Dorian pushed himself through the light, only a slight hesitation when he finally stood in front of it. He had no idea where he was going, but anything was better than sitting around, waiting for something to happen in a preschooler's nightmare. It felt almost like walking through a thick fog at first, and then, nothing.
When he woke up and felt grass around him, before he had even opened his eyes, he knew it wasn't Central Park. The grass was too soft and unkempt, much unlike the prickly, freshly mown lawn inside Central Park. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes. The sky was blue, but there was no mistaking this place for New York. For the second time in the past few minutes, he sat up, dragging himself to his feet just in time to hear something about a cat talking. Honestly, from the way this day was going? Yes. Yes the cat had probably talked.

Groggily, Autumn opened her eyes. She was flat on her back for a second time now. Well, at least her cards weren't tossed about this time. Now, what was this about a talking cat? "I think I heard it too." She said with mild curiosity. "It's not all together crazy. I mean, we were brought here by a strange light and some otherworldly creature attacked us. Honestly, this seems to be more normal than anything." She shakily stood up, brushing grass off of her jeans.

When his rather widely based question answered by a vague answer and suggestion of what they should do from the same stranger whom had told him that some weird stuff was going on in the park and had then preceded to drag him along behind away from the screeching, hissing danger, Falke remained silent, weary but thoughtful. Alright then, fine... Go where? He pushed himself fully upright from his hands and knees, rolling stiff shoulders. Noting his walking stick wasn't with him anymore either, wonderful. Blearily he scanned his surroundings, ignoring the mild stings from the various cuts on his face, focusing on the general direction the others echoing, then abruptly disappearing footsteps, were heading. This was just weird. He hesitated before following /blindly/. Listening closer, he heard a soft humming sound in the direction the other teenagers had headed, it was bright, high, and an alien sound to his ears. And then someone mentioned light. Right. Sure, walk through the humming light to whatever lay beyond, sounded reasonable. Not. And weren't you often told never to walk toward the light in the first place? Yea... Reluctantly though, he forced himself to move closer, out of the base human nature of preferring not to be left alone in a strange, particularly unwelcome place, after just having their morning's shattered by the screams of a other worldly beast. He frowned, eyes narrowed as he sightlessly tried to size up what was just in front of him. The humming was louder now this close, and he had a feeling of in-between from it rolling around in his gut. "Here goes nothing..." He muttered to himself, now alone and the last to head through. Hesitantly he stepped forward, the light seemingly liquid pressing against tightly against his skin, and then nothing...

The second time he woke up, he'd landed on his back, and slowly he shoved himself into a sitting position with a low, nearly inaudible groan. Okay. He really could deal with a little less of this brain meddling, teleporting, whats' ever you'd call it, nonsense. Blinking, he glanced around. Nostrils flared. He felt soft greenery tickling between his fingers, very overgrown grass. The air seemed cleaner, gentler. Well, where ever they'd ended up this time, it wasn't anywhere close to Central Park, or even New York for that matter. And then there was the matter when his brain finally caught up and was able to process what his ears were hearing from the others talking around him... The gist he got was; a talking cat, turned into a man, so cat-man, Haru, not a dream this is real folks, destiny, special stones in their jewelry, month warriors, and cyclopeans. Okay, okay. Wait, what?! Falke just sat there, not bothering to get up just yet. Trying to process all the information, story, really crazy dream, etc, he was getting with some success. But he continued to stay silent, not jumping to conclusions or trying to call wolf at once. He flicked his eyes toward the general direction the voice of Haru, the cat-man, whatever, had spoken from, quietly and patiently waiting to listen more.