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Personal Purgatory

Setting

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New York

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Minimap

New York is a part of Personal Purgatory.

8 Characters Here

Phyrxus [2] "Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional" |WIP|
Ryuuzaki Yagami [1] Okay than. Think I have no emotions. I don't care.
Melina Dranic [1] Gum solves all worldly problems~ Except the pink elephants that inhabit your mind~
Kaori 'Kai' [1] I'd rather do something else. [WIP]
Atreus [0] "Laws are only as strong as the people who made them."
Alexander Kingston [0] "I came to party... and you?"
Feng Chen Shun [0] "I want you to get out of my life" [WIP]
Violet Byron [0] Nothing ever happens...

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((Opps, Accidental post, Sorry!))

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Character Portrait: Phyrxus
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#, as written by Cayleen
♬ ♭ ♮

Dank, musty, abhorrent filth. That’s all that surrounded him. That’s all that ever had and ever would. He was trash just like his surroundings. Tossed away and forgotten. Left out to rot until the stench became intolerable and he was once again hauled away to be forgotten with the rest of life’s filth. Filth like the wall he found himself staring at. The dark that shrouded him and clouded his blurred vision felt heavy as he continued to stare and tried to focus on each slurred thought that flitted brokenly through his mind. He blinked slowly, opening his eyes only to find the scenery had changed. His distorted gaze fell upon filth encrusted cement that could only be the ground. He felt dizzy at the sudden realization his neck was no longer straight, the heavy feeling lolling his head further to the side. His heavy lids closed and reopened drowsily and he forced his vision to focus. The effort caused his vision to go black before it crawled back in a dizzying swirl of nonsensical colours. A wave of nausea caused his eyes to roll back and he squeezed his eyelids tightly together.

His head pounded; a hammer repeatedly coming down on his skull. A gong sounding within the confines of his skull; echoing and rattling his brain. The pain throbbed and danced around its restraints; threatening to break free. Through the pain all that was visible was black. A pitching black that stretched far out of reach, spiraling on and on. The void made his mind reel and his eyes snapped open. His lids were hastily sealed as a fresh wave of nausea threatened to drown him. A groan echoed in his ears, inciting the throbbing and nausea on. The dark was once again parted by a stream of light that steadily faded as unfocused orbs adjusted. They stared forward; into an intangible swirl of gray, distanced from physical touch. Pressure applied itself to his hammering skull and the broken thought of it being his hand flitted through his swimming mind. The nausea intensified as he found the clouded mist moving closer and then passing harmlessly over his pounding skull. His chin jabbed into his chest as the weight of his head tugged on his neck. Eyelids he had not realized he closed reopened and he found himself staring down at a ragged lap. He disconnectedly watched as his limp hand flexed and twitched in his lap. His view once again changed as his head lolled to the side. The swirling gray that had first met his gaze was clouded above him. It was too far away to clearly view and stretched on for miles; seemingly endless. His gaze dropped straight ahead of him now and viewed the flat, dusty surface he rested on. It stretched on pass the horizon, much like the gray mist, and was of a sandy tan colour. This, combined with the clouded skies, made the whole scene feel devoid of colour and feeling.

Pain erupted at his side and he found the tan surface rushing upwards. Peeling open lids that had once again sealed without his consent, his throbbing mind screamed as the tan surface pressed against his cheek and the swirling gray, still far out of reach, was now hovering over his side. His disjointed mind barely registered the maniacal cackling, and even then he couldn’t be certain of what he heard as it was muffled in comparison to his own heavy breathing.

His head felt heavy, his neck unable to support its weight, as it numbly rotated to access the view over his shoulder. Long legs and heavy boots consumed his view and his throbbing orbs slid upwards to gaze upon a shadowed face twisted in an expression of sadistic mirth. Just as heavy lids were about to slide close again to subside the rising sense of dizziness and nausea, one of the heavy boots rushed forward and greeted his already pounding skull with another surge of blooming pain.

Muffled shrieking towards the back of his skull pried his gaze free of the dark and unfocused orbs swam in the intrusion of grays and monochromes that welcomed them. He blinked lazily for a moment before his vision cleared enough that shapes didn’t blend together and then torpidly scanned the scenery. The large boots and unholy mirth were nowhere in sight, but instead he found himself once again gazing at the filth encrusted wall. His head fell heavily backwards, thudding lightly against a hard surface, and he peered at the wall through half lidded and thick lashes. His neck gave out again and he found his head hanging heavily to the side. His gaze traveled down and stared at a heavily inked arm. Midway up the forearm a large protrusion stuck out of the skin. The needle of the syringe glinted in the dim lighting and he scoffed lightly. Filth.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Kaori 'Kai' Character Portrait: Ryuuzaki Yagami
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Ryuuzaki sighed, another day of cars rushing through streets, and people walking down sidewalks. Couldn’t anything slow down? He looked up in the middle of his song, wishing for things to quiet down a little bit. Of course he was only adding to the clamor by playing his guitar, but sound is different from noise. Sound is nice, gentle, and sweet, noise is... noise.

Ryuuzaki realized that there was a small crowd of three children. All were very young, but seven. He decided to play another song. Any money? So far with the money he just had in the case, he could get a small pizza. Hopefully more.

Ryuuzaki looked at the children, than looked down, they were identical triplets, pretty cool. Brown curly hair, and round blue eyes, all three of them were boys. He began feeling awkward. He didn’t know what to do, so he started playing another song.

A simple song, with G’s C’s and D’s. The three magical chords, with the right strumming patterns, he manipulated the song to turn into something awesome. But of course, no one likes repeating patterns forever, so Ryuuzaki went down to E’s and A’s. All of a sudden, the awkwardness seemed to lift off. He was a performer, and the children were his audience. Nothing wrong, right?

As he got further into the song, it seemed to elaborate more and more, until the children’s eyes were filled with wonder. The wonder of music. They stared at him with these gigantic eyes, as the chords danced from his fingertips, and into their ears. Ryuuzaki himself was enjoying the wonderful sound of his own guitar. But there was a nagging feeling, he really didn’t know what to do about it. Since when did he feel like this? Ryuuzaki couldn’t understand when he didn’t feel like this. He felt like it’s always been there. The song ended shortly after this strange feeling came upon him.

The three boys were clapping, and smiling. Ryuuzaki ignored them, because he didn’t know what to say, but when the parents came to retrieve the three boys, the mother whispered something to them. They waved as they walked away, yelling, “Thank you!”

Ryuuzaki was happy, ‘thank you’ always made his day. Even if they had no money. He gathered up his money and shoved it in his pocket, and put his guitar back in the case. He felt that he should continue playing though.

There was still a problem. What is he going to do about it? It kept on coming back, even though the satisfaction of the ‘thank you’ was still there, the strange feeling that hadn’t left him, he tried to think about it, but everything seemed normal. He shivered suddenly as cold wind blew across the dusty streets.

Was someone watching him? He looked up and down the black, busy streets, and looked at every person that was walking around. Not one of them stopped to look at him. No one except for a strange, green haired girl. This was not just any color of green, but a beautiful color of jade green, that flowed and rippled down her back. It was adorned with a single, red, flower, lined with gold. Every single time the light hit it, it shone brightly, illuminating the streets around them. She walked towards him like she was the Queen of England. Ryuuzaki was completely calm on the outside, but truthfully, he was panicking as though a strange, monstrous, yet beautiful, creature were walking towards him. This was the weirdest most crazy feeling he’s ever felt in life. It was as though this came straight out of a movie. The time when the protagonist fell in love at first sight. It wasn’t love though. Ryuuzaki had never felt love, but he was pretty sure that this wasn’t love. He swung his guitar over his shoulder, he stared at this strange girl. He suddenly felt… very awkward.

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Character Portrait: Phyrxus Character Portrait: Melina Dranic
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Seconds dug their feet firmly into the drag, as time forced them to march in their lovely parade. The dancer stood as stiff as a statue, one of the many people time was tormenting with their sick game. How the fuck could this happen? Why did he get run over? Why not some worthless piece of shit? Why the Adios handsome soul that he was? Him. Whose laugh boomed like a wonderful, blinding firework? Whose eyes light with scintillation whenever he spotted her figure on the stage? These tortuous thoughts kept throwing jubilant memories at her, causing her doe-like eyes to glaze over with tears carrying the weight of consuming despair. She tried to hold by the tidal wave of water that would consume her.

'Why him?' Kept searing itself into her feeble mind. Destroy those memories with the image of her beloved lying on the disgustingly blank bed. Life seemingly being sucked out of his beautiful body through traitorous tubes, connecting to mechanical, plastic boxes. If only she could reverse it and get to tubes to fill him with life.

But she was a flimsy, pathetic human. With no supernatural power to save her love. Helplessness pored itself into a large compartment of her aching heart to keep the cold misery a bit of company. The muscle pounded furiously against the dancer’s now bruising rib cage. It felt as though her heart was going to explode from too much pressure. She would have preferred than to live a day without her love.

In the reality outside of her world of clotting pain, humans were buzzing around some trying to save others, some like her and some were trying to keep themselves from fall apart, while others were battling a viscous battle to breathe the sweet scent of life for at least one more day.

Numbly, the dancer forced her normally graceful legs to stagger towards a plastic chair worn from years of others sitting, waiting. Her typically nimble form slump against the chair, she was on the verge of spilling over onto the floor and simply screaming her voice raw. Her normally straight, raven hair, now hung limply around her trembling body making her look as though she had escaped from a highly guarded mental institute. In stark contrast, her creamy skin tone had taken the sickly shade of paste. She was really a sight to behold, still dressed in her elegantly woven costume. It probably would have given others a laugh seeing someone wearing a vivid red ballet costume, if it weren’t such dire consequences. The female’s feet were even clad in worn, scuffed up ballet shoes due to vigorous use over only a few months.

“Miss?” the cool, calculative voice dripped past the macabre branches of her despair into the center of her common sense. The dancer gazed up with haunted eyes at the pristine coated doctor, who seemed content in avoiding weighted stare. Once the male realized that he had captured a portion of her attention he continued on, “Anyways, I am sorry to inform you, but he has slipped into coma and the chances of him ever regaining consciousness are slim to none.”

What did he say?

Did he really say those horrendous words?

Blinking, the dancer let her eyes flit around the room. Confused. This setting wasn’t what it was just a few seconds ago. She wasn’t lying on a bed. Nor was she in a hospital room. What happened? She was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room.

She blinked again. When did that towering, menacing-looking male enter her room? Was he always standing far too close to the rigid, rock-like bed? The dancer slowly inched away from the business suited man to the opposite edge of the bed. Blink. Holy shit. He was on the side she was scooting towards without any motion that caught her eyes.

A smirk curled around his thin, bloodless lips. The man had an angular face with razor sharp cheek bones that could slice through diamond and a strong jaw that must have taken down a few fists. The dancer was horrified when she glanced into his empty, desolate eye sockets. Black holes sucked all of her attention as she desperately searched for the male’s lost eyes.

Without eyes. Without soul.

She screamed. Or tried to at least. The male, with his inhuman speed, successfully stifled all noise from her by sufficiently smothering her with a thin pillow.

“It’s rude to scream at another’s deformities,” he hissed out like a snake being awoken from their nap in the sun. The dancer flinched at the sugary coated mockery that surrounded his words.

“Alrighty then,” he said, clapping his hands together, “Down to business.”

The dancer stared at him with guarded yet startled fear. The male took her silences as a motivation to continue on with his ‘business proposal’.

“I couldn’t help but notice the pain you are currently going through. And as any gentleman would; I would like to solve whatever is ailing your emotional state of mind. With a price of course. But, I can do just about anything for a lovely lady like you. With the right payment, I could wake up your sleeping prince,” he spoke in a light, soothing tone. The man’s mouth had painted on a sincere and caring smile that could never reach his eyes.


The constant flow of words from her mind to paper was interrupted by an odd tingling sensation along her spine. She shifted slightly, the hairs of the back of her neck pricked upward in alert. Melina tightened her grip on the pencil as she tried to ward off the feeling of being observed.

After that particular feeling subsided, she continued writing the blooming story. Scribbling away on the loose leaf of paper; Mel once again immersed in the realm of plot lines and characters.

Again, unseen eyes burned on the back of her head. The small sparks of irritation began to bounce into each other as she lost the connection to her writing. Glancing around the room, she noticed no one in her bland sanctuary. With a small sigh, she returned her gaze towards her paper. Now she had to find her lovely muse once again. It was a difficult search because the muse decided to hide among her memories. That sneaky bastard didn’t want to leave her mind.

Third time is the charm. But when she lost concentration this time, it was because of loud, echoing crashes not far from outside her door. Mel made a noise akin to an irritated growl as she stood up abruptly, dropping her pencil, and stomped out of her shelter. Once in the dingy living room, the wonderful sight of her beloved mother lying on the ground while clutching her stomach and a disgusting man looming over her graced her eyes. Now she knew where the noises came from.

Mel froze to the spot. Fury spread all over her body, travelling in her veins. It sparked and clashed with all of the more rational emotions. Devouring all of them until only anger was left to guide her actions. In a disjointed manner, she picked up an empty bottle and, with a sneer, broke it against the male’s thick skull.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t put in enough momentum behind the throw. “Fucking shit. Why the fuck does that bastard have such a thick skull?” she muttered to herself.

The male, with his disgustingly beady eyes, slowly, menacingly stalked over towards where she was standing. As a response she slowly backed away from the muddy brown haired man, inching closer and closer to the exit. He had a scary amount of muscles and was easily a full head taller than her.

“You fucking bitch!” the male so eloquently shouted in a nauseating tone of voice. She was screwed if he caught her. A scowl marred his already ugly as fuck face as the man suddenly lunged forward at her. Luckily, Mel was faster and in a flash, she was out of the tiny hell, known as her home.

You idiot! How could she have left her mom alone with that bastard?!? She was such a fucking coward, saving herself but not her mother! Now her mother was probably fucking dead. She slammed her leg against the concrete wall in the stairwell, which sent searing pain shooting all over her leg. “Fuck fuck fuck shit,” she cursed, in a very colorful manner as she comically hopped on one foot and attempted to nurse her leg.

Mel really was not having a good day.

As if that thought tugged on sister Fate’s attention, her hopping caused her to crash her skull against the brick wall of the stairwell. Echoing curses filled the chilly air, Mel sagged ungracefully against the cruel wall while rubbing the spots where pain was being emitted from. Throbbing, searing pain. Burned into her brain. Mel squeezed her eyes closed tightly shut while her fingers made an attempt to smother the pain. After a few moments the fire-like hurt subsided slightly. Snapping her eyes open. Her charcoal eyes tried to focus on the blank wall opposite of her, but it wouldn’t stop fucking swaying. Oh wait, that was her.

Heh, funny how she caused more pain for herself on accident than an outside force. In an almost hysterical mannerism she doubled over in giggles that seemed endless. In an outsider’s point of view, you would be in a supposedly empty stairwell, but with hysterical giggles bouncing off the walls.

After the giggles subsided, Mel closed her eyes and rested against the wall with a lazy expression relaxing her facial features. Unfortunately, the noise of someone opening the door rang through the stairwell. Bringing Mel out of her cozy mind and caused her to race down the stairs, two at a time until she was at the surface level.

Glancing upwards, her eyes caught the burly figure of the disgusting male. At least he wasn’t focused on beating the shit out of her mom.

But Mel desperately needed to lose the man. She forced her legs to sprint making herself out as a blurry of black and stark white out of the apartment building into the lovely streets of New York. She ran past two hobos sitting next to each other staring blankly, an old lady taking out the trash, and a gangster trying to impress a bimbo. Breathing in and out Mel stopped paying attention to the busy world around her and focused on moving one leg after another in a corridanted manner.

She had no idea where she was going, Mel just relied on her instincts to take her wherever. Time blended together holding no more meaning. Only the rush of air flowing in and out of her lungs and the burn in her legs registered in her mind. It wasn’t until she fell over a skinny mass of pale human was she pulled back into reality.

In a completely gracefully manner, Mel arranged herself so she was sitting next to the human she tripped over. Peering around, she realized she was in the druggy alley. Joys, she was probably sitting on dried semen. Shuddering involuntarily, she turned her gaze towards the cadaverous male. Although the male wasn’t wearing a shirt, which caused her pinky to twitch slightly, his inked chest had a hypnotic quality that would allow almost anyone stare at them in wonder for hours. He seemed like an odd creature. Probably so high in the sky that he sees unicorns puking rainbow flavored…not going to finish that thought.

Mel poked his arm while tilting her head. She looked at him similar to how children look at a fascinating object. “Hey, human…do you have cows stuffed in your head so that you can’t see the floating dust mites that are at battle?” she asked in a curious tone.