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Aaron Pierce

Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange.

0 · 497 views · located in Kairos

a character in “mbuki-mvuki”, as played by Verix

Description

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« Have you read the Death of a Moth? »


ImageImage F I R S T .. I M P R E S S I O N
There is something disturbingly familiar about Aaron. He has a gaze that lingers too long to be comfortable, but rather then being unfriendly it has the quality of seeming like an old friend. And the frown that's forever etched to his countenance is not malicious, but rather filled with curiosity. Unexplainably, there is something warm about him that cautions people away.

. . . .. .Image 〉〉 E I G H T E E N. . . . . . 〉〉 B I S E X U A L. . . . . . 〉〉 M A L E.

〉〉 S I X' - O N E" . . . . . 〉〉 D I S T A N T. . . . . . 〉〉 "I M P E N I T E N T"

S E C O N D .. I M P R E S S I O N
Aloof at first glance, it's a not a surprise to know that talking to him is a special affair. He does not speak unless spoken to, but shockingly when engaged in conversation the words seem to flow like water. When all is said and done however, most leave with a feeling of unease. It’s as though they've gone through something intimate without their knowledge and the only one who had benefitted was him. Many have called it disturbing, while others found it enthralling.

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A C A D E M I C . H I S T O R Y

▪ Above average student : Not a genius
▪ Most likely to answer a question
▪ Best subject is English Literature
▪ Worst subject is science
▪ Perfect attendance
▪ Attended mostly private schools
▪ ECA : Violin & Fencing

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C R E D I T S
artist | Kachiru Ishizue
faceclaim | Fon F. Littenber

user | edgelord 420
designer | angelwolf123

So begins...

Aaron Pierce's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Martin Stiles Character Portrait: Oliver Laece Character Portrait: Kirby Harrison Character Portrait: Xinyi Xú Character Portrait: Annabelle Laurence Character Portrait: Aaron Pierce Character Portrait: Jasper Winfield Character Portrait: Lily Clarkson Character Portrait: Natasha Hansen Character Portrait: Lenox Kuear Character Portrait: Christopher Robinson Character Portrait: Winter Taushet Character Portrait: Elle Halliday Character Portrait: Daisy Defoe

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"Don't be afraid to die."

That's what their homeroom teacher said, a week into the school year. The class had written words on little bits of paper, and the stationary crumpled as she spoke. Crumpled into nothing. Gone. Like magic. "As long as we wish it, you cannot leave."

Her eyes raked over her twenty-something students. Swirls of ink appeared on their skin, manifesting as strange symbols on the children's bodies. Good. It seemed the rite was proceeding safely. Not much more time left until the eclipse. She opened her mouth to continue her 'explanation'. A true explanation, of course, would be given to the students who survived.

Martin listened as the teacher spoke calmly of death. Of floating islands and curses and using words to fight said curses. God's Blight, she called it. This had to be a joke. A reality scare cam, or something. Right? Right??

Then the island blocked out the sun, just like she said it would. A shadow fell over the school campus.

'Oh, shit.' He almost puked from the immediate sensation of wrongness. Like reality had just flipped right over on it's fucking head. It was that feeling of stepping through a stair that was never there in the first place, that feeling when his parents told him his aunt had been diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer.

Martin's chest rose and fell, each panicked inhale serving as a cold dose of actuality. Was this even the same classroom?

All the desks, all his classmates still sat in the same spots. But the colors were off. Darker, and smearing at the edges like a still life painted by sad and angry artist. One that didn't like to pay a lot of attention to people. Martin's wide red eyes trailed to Annabelle sitting next to him, and her face was just a little harder to make out than usual. Blurry and pale.

The teacher sighed under her breath, coolly inspecting her nails. "First one is always monsters. No surprise there." She glanced up at the petrified classroom. "What? If you just sit there, you're going to die, you know. They'll be here soon."



That's what their homeroom teacher said, a week into the school year. That's also how Martin found himself sprinting towards the library like the little bitch seventeen year-old he was. Not like he was alone. As soon as she had spoken, basically the entire class made a fucking break for it. Monsters? Monsters!?

'Please be LSD, please be LSD,' he chanted in his mind. Martin ducked into a side hallway, away from the thundering mass of hysterical students. 'Or any hallucinogenic, really, I'm not picky. A bad cocaine trip would be--'

The soles of his school-standard leather oxfords caught on something wet and slippery. The blond teenager's feet skidded on the ground one moment, and in the next he found himself ass-backwards on the hardwood floor. Damn. What a stupid move. Martin pressed his hand to the wall to help haul himself up, shuddering at the distinct sensation of the liquid soaking into his pants.

A coppery, metallic stench filled his nose and mouth. His palms left red smears on the wall and... yeah. Martin looked down. Yeah. It was blood. He just fell in a puddle of blood. Another person's bodily fluids.

There was that urge to throw up, again.

Fucking... fucking gross!! His stomach seized. 'Oh my god.' Martin stiffened, glancing about in disgust before numbly wiping his trembling hands on the front of his shirt. 'So... I hope I'm not going to die today.' His mouth twisted into a tight, panicked sort of smile. Nope. Probably going to die. Whole school was a deathtrap from the very beginning.

Of course, blood must come from somewhere. The source of the ichor, sprawled a few feet away, made Martin's fixated eyes prick with horrified, unshed tears.

No. Oh fuck no.

The dude's face had been cut clean in half.

Sliced horizontally, right at the jaw. Distantly, Martin's ears detected screams of terror echoing down the hallways of the building, but by then his entire body had clamped up. The bodies of animals, smashed to paste, that he'd sometimes glimpsed on the asphalt of the highways did not compare to this.

His spine. You could see it, sticking bone white out of the gory stump of a neck. Worst of all, worst of fucking all, was the tongue. With the upper half of the jaw entirely severed, the whole tongue just flopped limply out of what was left of the corpse's mouth.

The shrieks nearest to Martin escalated into full-blown wailing before snuffing out altogether.

Wait... that wasn't right. He could still hear the screaming, but only faintly. Like someone had clapped hand over the person's mouth, or shoved their face into a pillow. The teenager's mind was silent. Completely devoid of an internal dialogue as his head turned to the right, to look further down the corridor.

It was built like a spider, with fleshy skin and many human arms in the place of arachnid legs. Long fingered hands pressed to the floor, walls, and ceiling to keep the creature suspended in place. More hands, still, pinned a student to the wall. It busily stitched up her lips with a needle and black thread; the girl's eyes were already sewn completely shut.

The giant, sick-looking set of scissors grasped by a set of fingers did not escape Martin's attention.

If the world was now a painting, then the thing had a face like a portrait. It didn't move. Only bored into the young man with penetrating eyes in the way that certain portraits do. Its hands continued to tie off the thread at the girl's mouth almost absently, as an unoccupied arm bent at the elbow. Her muffled cries choked and died down further.

The monster pressed a bony forefinger to its expressionless portrait mouth. 'Shhh.'

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Martin Stiles Character Portrait: Oliver Laece Character Portrait: Kirby Harrison Character Portrait: Xinyi Xú Character Portrait: Annabelle Laurence Character Portrait: Aaron Pierce Character Portrait: Jasper Winfield Character Portrait: Lily Clarkson Character Portrait: Natasha Hansen Character Portrait: Lenox Kuear Character Portrait: Christopher Robinson Character Portrait: Winter Taushet Character Portrait: Elle Halliday Character Portrait: Daisy Defoe

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#, as written by Zalgo
Daisy Defoe


"Write one word. The word should match how you will fight in the upcoming battle. Only one word that you believe you will... need."

That is what their teacher had asked them. There was a piece of paper in front of every one of them. Everyone had picked their word and Daisy had picked hers.

Onomatophobia

Not really taking the request seriously Daisy picked a word which literally meant a fear of words. It was erudite yet contrarian, just the way she liked it. Little did she realize the gravity of her decision was far greater than initially perceived as the papers they wrote upon crumpled up before vanishing on their own accord. It was that which first brought to mind the concern that she might of been way in over her head.

Strange symbols formed on the skins of every student, herself included. She didn't notice of course since she was wearing clothes, obscuring what was going on on her body. She probably wasn't going to notice for a while unless someone pointed it out.


"Don't be afraid to die."

Okay?

"As long as we wish it, you cannot leave."

Okay?

As the teacher described the curse and that they were fight things called Blights with the words they chose Daisy's internal objections grew. Still, the disappearance of the paper they wrote on stuck with her. Her mind was quite open to mystery but she was being dropped in the deep end quite quickly for her liking.

Then the shadow descended. Like a cloak the darkness draped itself across the land, enveloping the school. The feeling swept over her no less than the shadow did, completely filling her with a supernatural dread. The colors seemed less lustrous, the people around her slightly out of focus like objects outside the center of a camera lens. Overall everything amounted to something Daisy would describe as Definitely like Silent Hill.

"First one is always monsters. No surprise there." The teacher seemed rather callous given the topic she spoke of.
"What? If you just sit there, you're going to die, you know. They'll be here soon."


Like so everyone began straight up panicking. While everyone else seemed to flee the classroom Daisy was one of the few who calmly stood up, quite unamused by the teacher's attitude, and walked out from the classroom.

She looked about the hall, everyone else having had a head start on her. The sounds of panic disseminated through the halls. Her tired eyes looked back and forth as she dwelt on what was going on.

"Words to fight the monsters... How the hell is Onomatophobia-" She was quietly talking to herself but was quickly cut off as a strange viscous feeling filled her mouth all of a sudden. She opened her mouth to cough from the sudden surprise of having something in her mouth and instead a black liquid escaped her lips, spilling out onto the front of her uniform and the floor. It looked like ink and while she didn't know what ink tasted like it certainly didn't taste like a carbonated beverage.

She coughed and hacked, the last dredges of the substance leaving her mouth. The amount she seemed to have spat up only amounted to a small puddle around her shoes and a number of ink black stains on her vest. Her eyes were wide with shock at the sudden intrusive element as she struggled to purge every last bit of this unknown fluid from her mouth.


What the hell!? Was the main thought to come across her mind as this happened. At this point the mild phenomena had escalated into a full blown paranormal eruption. She panted, regaining her breath after having it cut off by the sudden conjuring of fluids within her mouth. Bracing herself against the wall as her breath quickened she started coming to terms with what just happened.

I... I spoke the word and it just started coming out. Now with a moment she was able to start thinking. The word... A word is... A series of symbols etched in... In ink. It clicked in her head just what exactly the black substance was. I spoke the word and... It literally left my lips. Dear god what the fuck is happening!?


She had little time to dwell on the word she was given however. Her heart rate spiked as the adrenaline hit her bloodstream. Her eyes were noticeably dilated now as the fear started to sink in. She could fear a pulsating sense of dread coming from the hall to her left, this concern punctuated by a sharp high pitched cry as a female student was grabbed, the voice suddenly snuffed out as though buried. On that note she ran.

Cold sweat beaded down her forehead as she just picked a direction and kept running. On a number of junctions she'd stop briefly, that same creeping dread emanating from one of the halls. This sense of fear she held was unconsciously guiding her away from the dangers, spiking her feeling of danger whenever she was unknowingly going towards these unknown threats. The downside to this was that the fear was also driving her away from other students in possession of words. She was being guided away from words.


Of course she couldn't evade trouble forever. Just as she was nearing the library she felt a tremendous fear ahead of her. She turned to go off in the opposite direction but got a sense of danger from there too. The only other thing in the hall was a door to the janitor's closet.

She rushed inside before anything could see her, not even bothering to turn on the lights. She wanted it to be dark, she needed to hide. There were all sorts of supplies and janitorial tools in this closet as expected. Fumbling in the dark she managed to worm her way behind some boxes on the bottom shelf. She could almost feel their presence drawing near. Whatever it was she was definitely sure it was right outside the door.


Her breath caught in her chest for that very moment when the door handle turned.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aaron Pierce Character Portrait: Christopher Robinson Character Portrait: Daisy Defoe

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#, as written by Verix
AARON PIERCE & CHRISTOPHER ROBINSON
#812b5d : #080F61


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        Christopher curled his fingers experimentally against his palms, nails digging into the word 'KILL' emblazoned into his flesh. This was all a joke in bad taste, all of it. Stupid Magic, stupid school. He just came here because it'd be easier for the future, not to get caught up in some Harry Potter hunger games esque plot. He was already regretting the decision he made of joining this curriculum in the first place.

        Like so many others Aaron had run out of the classroom in record time, not wanting to ignore the teacher’s warning. Silently however he laughed, not quite understanding the situation he was in. Maybe it was an initiation of some sorts — to weed out the unworthy.

        If he could convince himself of that fact then perhaps the sight of his classmates dead bodies lying limp on the floor would disturb his less. He sorely doubted it however.

        Christopher took a quiet moment to contemplate his life choices. Well this school was definitely illegal. Then again he should've realized that when the school was under a floating island no one else can see. Wonderful, Christopher. You have just dug yourself the perfect grave. As if the word kill wasn't already scaring people away from you, now it has been upgraded to a power he doesn't even know. Well, if it's any consolation people wouldn't want to mess with someone with 'kill' across their palm in bold capital letters. Screams came to his ears, piercing and loud, breaking him away from his internal complaints. Well, Guess where the goddamned Monster is. Resolutely, Christopher ran to the opposite direction where the sight of Aaron looking down at his hand greeted him.

        Aaron looked up from where his hand began to throb, the inky lettering of the word ‘impenitent’ standing stark against his skin.

        “W-what the hell do we do now?” Aaron asked shakily, his composure long gone. In the face of life or death niceties were pointless.

        Christopher stared at him in mild disbelief. What was he, a character in a slasher movie? If they run and he falls down halfway by tripping over something that wasn't there it wouldn't be Christopher’s responsibility. He was having a Long day. He came to this school, got the word kill over his palm, and now a Monster was chasing them and dead bodies littered the hall. Literally nothing can faze him now.

        “What do we do now? What do you think? We either run, or fight. How good are you with trying to beat down a bloody Monster?”

        Aaron looked at him in disbelief, “Probably better than you.” He admitted, anger was probably not the best emotion to be feeling toward the only alive person he’s seen since . . . well homeroom, but the child was so impertinent. “Have you actually seen what’s been killing everyone?”
        It was a fair question, he hadn’t seen the creature in action -- only the bodies that followed in it’s wake.

        “Well, no. Do I want to? Also no. I've seen what it does, that's enough for me to get the hell away.”

        Aaron stopped fuming for a second and sighed. The child was right, they needed to get away. Without another word Aaron began to run once more, eyes searching for a place to hide because like Hell would he fight the creature. He stood no chance as it was.

        Christopher ran after him, trying his best to keep up with Aaron’s strides. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a janitor’s closet, immediately shoving Aaron toward it with all his remaining breath, hoping his roommate would catch the cue and use that to hide. Turning the doorknob, he nearly flung it open to see a small girl huddled there and let out a groan of dismay.

        “Dammit. It was taken.”

        Sighing, Aaron was about to silently slink out, but the sudden appearance of a black blur behind Christopher made him move twice as fast. He grabbed the shorter male by the abdomen - slamming him to the ground and effectively pushing him out of the creatures scissor-like grasp.

        “We found it,” Aaron said, not quite sure if it was appropriate to say or not.

        Christopher was tempted to say ‘no shit, Sherlock’, but decided to keep his mouth shut for the fact that Aaron just saved his life. Now he owed that guy a favor, just great. “Yeah, we did.” He said instead, golden eyes locked with a horrid fascination on the monster before them. It looked straight out of a movie, and if Christopher was in any less danger of dean right now he might have appreciated the design, but his mind was whirling with the smell of blood and adrenaline.

        The Monster was right in front of them, Christopher was still too shocked to run and he was in no mood to show his back to the creature brandishing a pair of silver scissors. There seemed to be only one thing to do, apparently.

        “How should we kill it?”

        Just as the words left his mouth, Christopher jolted as a red hot pain started in his hand and spread slowly up his body. What was going on now? Gasping softly, he got up, flexing his body. Without thinking, Christopher launched himself at the Monster, twisting his body just enough to dodge the scissors that missed his body by an inch.

        Grabbing one of the creature’s arms that were cornering him, Christopher broke it with a sharp snap.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aaron Pierce Character Portrait: Christopher Robinson Character Portrait: Daisy Defoe

0.00 INK

#, as written by Zalgo
Daisy Defoe


It opened to reveal not a monster but a mere student. Still the feeling did not subside, in fact the dread only intensified as the boy drew closer. It illustrated a notable flaw in her ability thus far.

She crawled from her hiding space and pressed on past the door, much against what the feeling in her chest was warning her from. Once in the hall she could see two things she wasn't supposed to be afraid of and one thing she definitely was. What caught her attention more however were the words now hovering over the two boy's heads. This caught her attention as immediately upon seeing the words ink started running freely from her mouth.

It was pouring far more intensely this time around, pushing out a greater volume than before. Like a broken faucet it just kept coming and coming keeping Daisy hunched forward so it doesn't run down onto her clothes. Any blood that was on the ground was pushed out by the flow of ink, it's pool expanding down the hall as it had already filled out it's width. She was unable to react appropriately when the boy who was no taller than herself assaulted the creature, breaking one of it's arms.


It wasn't long but it felt like forever. It was still a strange feeling, having something appearing in her own mouth. Given how much volume it produced all at once she had inevitably swallowed some, making her feel somewhat ill at the feeling. She felt like a mess and assumed she must of looked like such too. The ink had stained the ends of her hair which had fallen in the way during the ink's manifestation. Portions of her clothes also had spots of ink staining them.

She looked up after her power had finished laying the foundation, looking at the two and the creature they fought. There were voices elsewhere, multiple ones and all drawing closer it seemed. This was all much too overwhelming for her as her fear of words screamed ever louder in her heart and at her mind. With that she turned and fled, putting the monster and the two who were fighting it behind her.


With her fears at her back she made her way towards the library. Coming to a slow before eventually stopping she arrived at the doors to the library. She could feel a sense of dread emanating from within. Despite this feeling she knew there was little help to be had from running when both student and monster radiated the same fear. Given the attrition rate it was likely there were more monsters than students left anyways.

There were no good answers left. Whatever it was inside the library she was reluctantly consigned to dealing with it once inside. Adrenaline mingled with her very blood and her heart was beating like a rabbit's but she swallowed her fears and set her hand on the door knob. With a twist she opened the doors to reveal...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aaron Pierce Character Portrait: Christopher Robinson Character Portrait: Nori Wright Character Portrait: Jean Rousseau

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#, as written by Verix
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AARON PIERCE & CHRISTOPHER ROBINSON

#812b5d : #080F61


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        The sudden change in character in his roommate made Aaron realize two things. One he had no idea his roommate could be so violent, or strong for that matter.

        Two, as much as he thought he recognized the situation he was in, the truth of the matter was he had no fucking idea what the hell was going on.

        “TO YOUR LEFT,” he yelled, unsure if his yelling would be heard to the man possessed.

        Christopher could barely think of anything other than the Monster his was fighting, attention zeroed in on every detail. It's next step, how he could avoid that. His arm was grabbed by one of the monster’s limbs while he was thinking, causing the boy to let out a snarl.

        He twisted himself out of the tight grip, dislocating his arm in the process. It dangled by his side, useless as Christopher fell back to think of the next step, body still tensed for a fight. He grabbed his useless arm and pushed, moving it back into his arm socket with a sickening pop. If he was any more conscious of his situation, he would've passed out from the pain.

        Instead, Christopher let out a Low growl and launched himself into the fight again, zig zagging out of the arms' reach, biting whenever he could with a fierce vengeance. Booms echoed throughout the school, summoning the Monster's attention for a brief second, but it was enough.

        Christopher gripped the closest arm he could find tightly, feeling himself being flung up as the Monster tried to get rid of his grasp. Using the force, Christopher landed himself right on the neck of the creature, barely noticing the silver scissors that grazed his head, enough to leave a gaping wound oozing blood. His eyes were zeroed in keenly on the beast, arms wrapped around its neck. Nothing else mattered but to kill, hurt, injure, relish the feeling of taking life away like a long, cool drink.

        Aaron watched in morbid fascination. The level of respect he had for his companion growing with every creature he killed.

        However, with each spider Christopher slaughtered another one appeared in its place. Never stopping, never slowing.

        By Aaron’s calculations it would only be a matter of minutes before his roommate would be too overwhelmed with enemies to keep them both safe. With no option other than to fight — or flee without his partner, but that was hardly a choice when Aaron could save the both of them — he called upon his own word.

        “Impenitent,” the word rang soft and clear, the underlying intention behind it adding to its strength.

        He would not die like so many others had. Not there, not anywhere.

        Aaron felt his body loose tension. His jaw unclenched, his hands steadied, and his vision cleared. It was as though the fear that kept him from moving had simply ceased to exist.

        Wasting no time Aaron jumped into the fray, picking up one of the spiders many missing legs and began to wield it like the sabre he’d grown to love. He then began to attack.

        He positioned his body sideways and lunged at the spider's stomach, his action not as quick as he would have expected but far surpassing what was needed. The creature gave an inhuman screech, and before it died Aaron withdrew the leg (an acting sabre) from its abdomen and began to fight the next oncoming creature.

        He kept fighting like that for a dozen more spiders before finally only two remained. Aaron took the one on the right and left the other Christopher to take care of.

        Never before had Aaron felt so in his element.

        Getting into his power was easy. Getting out was the most hellish thing Christopher had ever come across. As the last monster was being killed, something seemed to evaporate from his body. And oh god, when it left it hurt.

        The whole world came into focus as though he had been living in a pleasant fantasy the whole time. There were cuts all over his arms and a particularly deep one at his abdomen, his arms have been dislocated and reattached at least twice and Christopher could swear his guts were going to spill out. The blood flowing from his head didn't do anything to help his headache. All around him were carcasses of various monsters, but if there was anything he wanted more than ever to do now was to curl up and cry. Without the strength filling his body, Christopher felt suddenly small and helpless. It wasn't often that he was given so much only to have it stripped away, and the pain that was withheld before was coming back like an opened dam.

        Falling back onto the ground, Christopher curled around his wound and groaned. “I feel as though I'm having a hangover but so much worse. What the heck did I do?”

        As the last spider crumpled to the ground, all eight of it’s legs severed, Aaron raised his weapon above it’s head and let it come down with a sickening crunch. A satisfied smile rested on his lips.

        Aaron then discarded the leg into a pile of bodies and quickly ran over to where his roommate was withering in pain, loudly complaining about how much he was hurting.

        “Are you telling me you have no idea what you just did?”

        “Well, no! Whatever I just did, it hurts now.” Despite being heavily injured, Christopher was somewhat able to feel a hint of annoyance. “What now? I can't move. I'm not going to.”

        Aaron looked at him with a deadpan face, “Would you like me to carry you?”

        Christopher spared a glance at him, trying to phantom if he was joking or not. He couldn't tell, at all. Just his luck, he had a roommate with an unemotional face. “I don't know, do you want to?”

        Without saying another word Aaron gracefully picked his roommate off the ground, not caring that it was another person's blood soaking his shirt. He could always buy another one.

        Christopher shut his eyes and tried his best to relax in the arms of a complete stranger. Not quite stranger, because he knew his roommate at least. But he doesn't know what Aaron was going to do with him. Heck, he could be used as bait for all he knows. Still, he was grateful that his roommate had the decency not to leave him for dead. “Thanks.” He muttered under his breath, mildly embarrassed that he had to say it.

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        For what seemed like an eternity Aaron kept walking down the bloodied hallways, keeping his footwork light and quiet. The destination he had in mind was their shared room, but the hallways began to blur together and soon he could not decipher where he had been and where he should go.

        He tightened his grip on Christopher, “I really wish you were a map.” Sighing he then continued walking.

        His roommate was relatively light, but still a burden and as time wore on he felt the strain of the weight on his arms. As he was about to set him down for a break however an ear shattering scream caught his attention.

        Aaron looked down at the body before him, and almost instinctively he began running toward the source of the noise.

        Noise meant life, and life meant the possibility of finding someone who could help Aaron and Christopher out of their predicament. It was arrogant of him to think anyone would want to help him, but at the pace they were going they’d be dead before reaching their room.

        Although, if worst came to worst leaving Christopher was still a viable option . . . but for as long as he could Aaron would try his best to help him.

        As he rounded a corner however he was met with the sight of two students still fighting against a spider. He waited, not quite wanting to fight it himself when they seemed perfectly capable of doing so.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Martin Stiles Character Portrait: Oliver Laece Character Portrait: Kirby Harrison Character Portrait: Xinyi Xú Character Portrait: Annabelle Laurence Character Portrait: Aaron Pierce Character Portrait: Lily Clarkson Character Portrait: Natasha Hansen Character Portrait: Drake Evans Character Portrait: Lenox Kuear Character Portrait: Christopher Robinson Character Portrait: Elle Halliday Character Portrait: Zed Richter Character Portrait: Daisy Defoe Character Portrait: Hyeon-Ju Park Character Portrait: Blaise Smith Character Portrait: Nori Wright Character Portrait: Jean Rousseau

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They all knew it was going to happen.

Some sat ramrod straight at their desks, others pressed their faces into the windows in anticipation. The teacher of class 2A, of course, supervised the students with a face of stone. Everyone watched on as the floating island ate up the sun, plunging the cursed grounds into darkness.

Pitch black darkness, actually.

Threads of reality bent and snapped around the word-bearing individuals. The floor dropped out from under their feet, all sound and sensation stripped from the students' eyes and skin. That gut-twisting sickness returned. Martin hadn't felt that deep sense of wrongness since the first Blight.

When his sight returned, the blond found himself in an... arena? It was small, about the size of a room. Stone piled around outside of the clearing, higher than he could see. It was he was in the bottom of some deep feeding pit. But, if this was a feeding pit... then what was being fed?

Martin's head ached and throbbed, his arms and shoulders itching and burning. Damnit. He looked up, finally noticing that he was not, in fact, alone. Two other students from his class stood with him in the stone clearing.



T H E.. S C E N E

There is an unreadable symbol on the floor of the stone clearing.

Three circular stone platforms, a decent distance from one another, all have symbols written on them as well. These symbols are readable. Two of the platforms read 'WITNESS', and the last reads 'MURDERER'. These stones are weighted. If someone stands on one, it will sink to the floor level.

An abstract tattoo can be found across the arms and shoulders of each student. If all three students in a group were to hold hands, the tattoo would form a complete centipede. As time passes, segments of the centipede tattoo will disappear from their skin. Blown up, enlarged versions of the vanished centipede segments will appear carved in the stone around them.

For the purposes of the Blight, the pit-like clearing is inescapable.

If you don't recognize the name of a character in your group, then they are a student from another classroom. Their character sheets are pending and I will be accepting them shortly.

Since this is a team based Blight, it will be easier to write replies if you collab with the RPers you got paired up with. This is also a puzzle oriented Blight. Even if the solution is obvious to you OOC, the characters still must work together to come to an answer on their own.


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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oliver Laece Character Portrait: Aaron Pierce Character Portrait: Natasha Hansen

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#, as written by Byte
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“Little Oliver fell down the well...”
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And just like that, Oliver realised she had braced herself in all the wrong directions. Again.

“Fuck.”

It came as suddenly as the last time, darkness encroaching the building in anticipation of another basket of dead bodies like treats to bring to dear old grandmothers house in the woods. And Oliver had about a millisecond to contemplate another murder-suicide scenario before the floor promptly made that decision for her and swallowed her whole in some sort of twisted irony to the other times she’d wished it had eaten her. And she decided that giving a considerable flying rat’s fuck was definitely off the table now that life itself had given her the finger; eyes rolling back with the sarcasm that one came to expect from Oliver “zero fucks given” Laece. She’d just hoped they’d get it over with quickly this time around… Maybe the afterlife was less unforgiving. ‘Yeah, right.’

It was but with a soft thud on the flooring of her next death-trap that Oliver had finally gotten the energy (and care) to even bother looking around the contraption she’d fallen in. An almost pit-like room, bare safe for the stone walls and platforms scribbled with markings that on closer inspection had several words written on them that only raised more questions than it answered.

“Oh,”

She had only just now taken notice of the two silhouettes standing beside her, glaring with indifference when she figured they were other students. Probably classmates if she’d thought hard enough, but the prospect of having to spend her final minutes with people she probably, most likely didn’t know was an even worse hell than whatever this concoction of a blight had in store for her. You could only make a joke so many times before it stopped being funny, and somewhere this one had worn down so much no laundry service would be able to iron out the wrinkles.

The other options was, of course, to become an impromptu super group and that idea held about as much credibility. Options were running thin, however, and Oliver wasn’t exactly willing to advocate for heaven just yet. And so, mustering something of a more proactive disposition, she raised a hand in greeting to the other two students. “Hey,” She offered rather casually. “welcome to hell.”