Sherry was trying to wake up. She needed to wake and do something about... whatever it was poking at her mind. What the hell? What was that? Where was she? Why was she so damn cold? The shiver that ran through her was one part cold and another part fear- she could feel something in her mind, and it wasn't Armagnac.
She cringed and probably cried out (she really didn't know) when the voice spoke. It was great and terrible and it hurt.
Sherry shook her head as consciousness returned to her. She was aware of the noise- and for a moment wondered if it was her own heart. No, she thought. Too loud. "Ahh!" Another pain, and Sherry looked down to see a vine wrapped around her leg, poking into her flesh. Another shudder ran though her and images of vines under her skin flashed through her mind. But no, this was different. This was not the same sort of vine. And it wasn't digging into her skin, it was pulling her...
She had to shake her head and look away. It hurt to look at it, much like those creatures she'd seen before. In fact, every bit of vine she tried to look at made her sick and dizzy. Moving to fight it was a struggle, one she couldn't win.
It pulled her closer, it got louder, and Sherry found herself listening to it again. Not the words, as such, for she wasn't crying in pain, but she knew what it meant. She knew what this was. She was meant for it. Meant for this, to be a part of it. All of her, everything she had, was, or ever would be.
But that wasn't right. She wasn't meant to be here. No, no. She was supposed to be-- There was another voice, faint, drowned out by the pulsating noise in her head. She knew that voice. She couldn't hear it, but she could feel it. It was there, in her mind, nestled up against her. Part of her. It was in denial of this fate, it was pleading with her to fight it.
She agreed. Some part of her agreed with that sentiment. They just had to fight. She just had to....
But why?
Quote:
Character's name: Sherry Greyson Character's faction: Life Hunter Character's survival stats: Alive BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERSherry is medium-height, blond, long fancy Hunter coat.
OOC
Character's name: Winnifred Opal Staford Character's faction: University Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Short and female, short light brown hair, dark brown eyes.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 10:30 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO:White Door] ♤Sereva the Mall District Survivor -----------------------------
Sereva’s eyes flickered under her eyelids as she begun to dream, ebbing more away from reality and closer to the façade. White washes over her truth of existence, forming into what seemed to be an empty room. She spent her days here, losing track of time… of anything she held close to her. The young woman got used to the feeling of being alone, losing the excitement and hope that came with company. What was it like? What did contact feel like? To be with someone, to talk to someone… to be held by someone. Those were the only questions that went through her mind now. The rest just waned further into nonexistence. She sat there, her back against the wall as she stared into the nothingness that now surrounded her.
Her breath shallow, rhythmic, lifeless.
Until one day Sereva heard a voice, the first bit of sound aside from her own that she was able to experience in a long time. Her face directed towards the voice, it sounded familiar, coming from someone she adored and trusted. They promised her the sense of freedom, and love. Both things the young woman would greatly accept as she was tired of negligence.
Following the voice she entered into a new world. One with things she had long forgotten about. The experience was overwhelming, as if she was a new born baby opening it’s eyes for the very first time. A smile crept onto her face, reaching her hand out to feel these things, to take in the color and the sound they make as she comes in contact with them. But as she continues to grow close to the joy that her new surroundings brought her, the reality began to crumble away. Being torn apart from her and shattering right before her very eyes. The joy she had felt distorting with it. Sereva couldn’t understand why, why was all this happening?
It wasn’t very long until she noticed it was them, the person whom she had loved began to tear things apart. They how her focus was only on the new reality and not on them they began to grow jealous and spiteful. Taking their love and freedom that they had promised and twisting it to the point of obsession. Sereva didn’t want this, her heart ached, feeling heavy and burdened. She ran away from her one chance of feeling contentment, hiding herself as she grasped onto her head. Crouching down, her eyes shut tight, trying to make everything go away again… maybe it was better to be alone than to feel this pain.
Character's name: Sereva Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link: [x] Character's survival stats: #77 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Fit body structure, that of a hunter ♠ Grey eyes with a cyan ring through the middle of the iris (contacts) ♠ Vibrant purple hair pulled back in a high pony tail ♠ Punk a** and courageous attitude.
[ DREAM SCENARIO:Violet Door]♤Sereva the Mall District Survivor -----------------------------
Sereva stood in a high position, her eyes able to see everything seemingly. She watched in care, and in guidance, seeing that no one would be neglected. This was her job after all, when she came into existence it was all that she knew. No one had guided her, yet she needed to be the light for others, protect them and see that they would reach contentment. But that was not enough, no matter her effort, her ways were just that. They were only hers. The young woman could only watch day after day as she gave them her all and saw them twist her grace and bend it to a fragile breaking point.
But she could not refuse to keep on giving, what they didn’t know, what they wanted to know, it was as if she was giving pieces of herself away only to see it wither into hatred. Every fiber of her being was woven into the people she had given to, that she watched over as a guardian. And as the days past she could feel the burn, the pain of those same people severing the threads of her existence. She passed away only knowing that she had given them what they wanted, but never really gave herself what she needed. Clarity was but lest a dream as she slept for all eternity.
Character's name: Sereva Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link: [x] Character's survival stats: #77 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Fit body structure, that of a hunter ♠ Grey eyes with a cyan ring through the middle of the iris (contacts) ♠ Vibrant purple hair pulled back in a high pony tail ♠ Punk a** and courageous attitude.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 10:48 pm
[ Dream Scenario: White Door ] He was conscious that it was a dream, letting it take its course as he observed and let himself be wrapped up in it. Memories to the day when it all started flooded back, and the man smiled, remembering the new ones that were made after that.
Three doors appeared before him, each one with its unique beckoning. He chose, on a whim, stepping through the white door.
He was back in his office, sitting alone just as he did in the first few days of the apocalypse. Except this loneliness was not caused by the circumstances, rather, it was a feeling of isolation he clearly remembered experiencing. Here he was, 45 years of age, unmarried and alone in Canada, away from his family. The habit of brushing off the long distance calls from his mother started years ago, and then the calls eventually stopped coming. An occasional text, an email or message between him and his brother was all that he did to keep what little contact he had with his kin.
The last message received was a few months ago, a one liner wishing him luck with his research. Research he had buried and isolated himself in, a cage he built for himself.
A recurring 9.
Had he found his answer? Was she his liberation?
And it was. In those moments, he was free from his cage, experiencing everything he had shunted away and kept himself from. But little did he know he had merely found himself in another cage, this time of her creation. For her he would stay, for her he was willing to abandon his freedom. But in her descent to madness, all he could do was watch.... and hide away...
- - - [ Dream Scenario: Violet Door ] He had seen the dirty side of things, and wanted no part in it. Money was corrupt, and the system was nothing but a prison, enslaving their souls to a cause far from worthy. He chose to be an educator, he chose to take the noble path. Guiding young minds to find their path and happiness, so they wouldn't have to take the detour he did. His research was his life, but his students were his pride.
But was it worth it? Over the years, he watched them come and go, many of them hardly remembering him. His family never understood his choice, his mother spending years begging him to come back and lead the easier life. Money, it was always about the money. Yet he knew he couldn't disappoint. He drowned himself in work, work, work, and then the money was sent back as proof, as his greatest duty.
It was never enough. They wanted his soul and freedom too.
Winnifred Opal stood before the three doors and wondered why they might mean. She had just seen her life flash before her eye- her hopes, dreams, fears and nightmares. She'd remembered her family and how much she missed them. She remembered the terror of that night when the world ended. She recalled her greatest love and her worst moment. She had watched the doors spring up from those memories.
So what did they mean?
"Well," she said to herself, "I have to choose one."
If anyone had asked her why she chose the white door, she wouldn't have been able to answer.
--
She lay on the floor, wondering just how long it had been. Weeks, at least. Longer probably. She didn't overly mind it, to be honest. She had herself, her bed, her books and her rocks. She kept busy.
But she knew she's been lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling for hours. Up and up. She was sad it was too far away to touch. "Just like the stars." It did glitter like the stars, she noticed. Constellations even. A ceiling of blue marble fitted with silver constellations. They seemed to twinkle and glow, to move and change. Winnifred Opal sighed and watched them move.
She watched as they faded. Everything faded. She was still on the floor, but her comforts were gone. The ceiling with it's lovely stars was gone. There was nothing here, nothing but her. She stared up at the nothingness that was the ceiling. Or was she staring down at the floor?
The voice was familiar. An old friend, a professor with a deep tone. They'd worked together for years before he moved away. He called out to her again, and Opal wondered how he had survived the end of the world.
The third time he called she answered. Yes, she said. She did want to leave. He was offering nothing bad, after all. And she was so very lonely. She didn't remember being lonely, but she was, and she knew it. She cried when he let her out again.
Her tears were marvelous, and then were of happiness. She continued to cry, seeing the sky above her again, feeling the wind on her face. She couldn't wait for the sun to set so that she could see stars again.
And look! The flowers were lovely! A whole garden full. Winnifred Opal ran through them, remembering a time when she had so as a girl. A whole garden of tulips, with a few gladiolas tossed in for good measure. On the other side of the garden she found a table set for brunch. The food smelled heavenly, and tasted just as good. She didn't remember the last time she'd been able to eat. When had she last had bacon? How has she survived without it?
A cat -her cat from when she was young- jumped up onto the table. Bumper! She had named him when she was very young. He still liked to be scratched behind the ears.
Winnifred Opal laughed as she watched her cat jump down off of the table and run after a butterfly. She laughed as she saw her old friend pick up the cat. She stopped laughing as Bumper turned gray and withered to something like a mummified husk.
Why? It was her only question.
Her friend shook his head and tossed the cat behind him. Winnifred could then see the pile behind him. Everything. The cat, the flowers, even the food she'd been so keen to eat- all withered and gray. Dead and dust. Even the stars were there, tiny and cold.
Winnifred look with horror upon her companion. She knew then. She knew. He would take everything in this world from her and turn it into dust. So that there was nothing but he and her.
No. Winnifred Opal fled. She had been in a cage once. She didn't want to be put back in one. She would run and she would hide and she would never be happy about anything again.
OOC
Character's name: Winnifred Opal Staford Character's faction: University Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Short and female, short light brown hair, dark brown eyes.
A sudden cold feeling woke Imbere, wide eyes snapping open, blinking the the grogginess away. The water nix felt a sharp coldness hit her all at once, teeth chattering, head whipping back and forth. A sudden weight fell on her conscious, and realization dawned on her suddenly-- Was... There someone there? Watching her? The grogginess left her almost immediately after that thought, feeling a personal violation of her thoughts seep through, clenching her teeth a little tightly. A voice-- What voice? Shot through her like a rocket, voice startling and powerful, almost knocking her out-- But she stayed strong. She wouldn't let this s**t get to her. She didn't even know what it was talking about. Nor do I care. It did seem, however, she was a lot more tired than she thought and fell back, almost passing out... until she felt a sharp pain in her leg. Blue blood seeped down her leg as she looked up to see a vine wrap around her leg, a loud gulp making her body tense.
Her head was filled with thoughts that weren't her own. As she struggled against the vines groggily, her body slowed, eyes staring at the moving vines as if in a trance, mesmerized by its strangeness.
No. NO. She couldn't look. It'd kill her. She'd die.
They'd die?
Her body felt looser, more relaxed. Was she dying, or would she simply... Evolve? Into something greater...? The thoughts, the thoughts she'd understand, her mind, it all... It all made sense now. Her body, her everything-- She was... She was created for this very moment, to be used and essentially become a mass of Fear. This was her calling.
No. No. Imbere, stop thinking like this, She heard, a whisper upon futile ears-- Don't let this happen to you. Think about what you want to become.
She couldn't become anything.
She was already complete.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 11:24 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO: GOLD DOOR ]
Winnifred Opal found herself gasping for air, and staring at three different doors. There was no where else to go. There was nothing else to be done. Her hand reached out--
She had no real regrets. She could see it all, her life story, there on the tapestries around her. Her birth- that of a small princess in a land where her father and mother ruled. She grew up under that tapestry, seeing her baby self and how noble her parents were. She could see there the painting they had commissioned when she came of age. She had not enjoyed posing for it -it had been hours and hours- but it had done her justice, more than justice.
The "Tapestry of Blood" was hung next to it. An artist depiction of battle- a battle that had claimed the life of her father. A battle that she had ended up being a leader for. A battle she had won. It had been luck, mostly.
The painting of her mother smiled down her. The woman was decades dead, but that painting kept her frozen in time.
The tapestry they'd done to commemorate her coronation was glorious. Gold thread and jewels woven into it.
The old Queen sighed. She'd had other things commissioned, painting and tapestries- all commemorating her life and the lives of her family. It had been a good life.
The kingdom had liked her. Respected her, trusted her. The people celebrated her birthday and they would mourn her death. They would drink to her for years to come, but she knew they would forget her eventually. They'd forgotten her parents, after all.
The knights were already taking orders from her son, so that would be okay. They'd always treated her a bit too special, anyway. Their little princess. Their Queen. It didn't matter that she was a better rider than any of them. The old woman let out a little laugh at that.
She settled herself a little more comfortably in her throne. She'd had it all done up with cushions ages ago. No reason her old bones should ache because she sat on wood all day.
Torchlight danced on the edges of the room- enough she could see the artwork around her. Night. She must have missed the sunset. Oh well. It would rise again tomorrow.
She knew she would not see it. And that was okay. She had been a good Queen. The kingdom was fine, and would be for years hence. She could die content, and she would.
She chuckled to herself as she closed her eyes. They had better find the note she left. The picture of her in the blue dress should be the one they hang up; she had always liked it best, and it was the one she wanted them to remember her in.
OOC
Character's name: Winnifred Opal Staford Character's faction: University Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Short and female, short light brown hair, dark brown eyes.
Merope's eyes gradually flickered from dull to a dim awareness. He closed his working eye socket, dragging one arm up to cover his exposed eye while waiting for his mind to catch up. It was hard to think, to concentrate; he didn't feel like he was by himself.
The words came. They rang and clattered around his mind, eliciting a long, drawn-out hiss from him. He didn't like the words he realized. His thoughts were cut short as he blacked out, coming to again only as the sharp vine wrapped around his leg and began to drag him away. There go my fins, one part of his brain realized. Do you honestly have time to worry about your vanity? another part of himself wondered sharply. Oh, the other part responded.
That was his last thought as the words came back, crawling through his mind like dozens of tiny skitters.
OOC
Character's name: Merope Character's faction: Halloween Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: Guy Riley, #59 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER An undead sea-draconic being. While a majority of his scales are a deep turquoise, he also has bioluminescent scales that mark him with a series of lines and dots. He has several fins: two on his back, two on his arms, and two more at the base of his tail.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 11:40 pm
[ VICTIMS'S POV ] [ DREAM SCENARIO: WHITE DOOR ]
Guy Riley was in a white room with white walls and a white floor. He reached out towards the windowsill, staring at it as he ran his hand over it. It was smooth with soft curves to it, ivory white and seamlessly fit into interlocking and adjoining bones that formed the --
There was a splash of red now. Guy pulled his hand back as his eyes moved from the long paper cut on his hand to the windowsill, staring at the freckled deck of cards that someone had glued together. Diamonds, spaces, hearts, clubs, kings, queens, aces, jacks, jokers; he could see the full deck repeated again and again as the walls shifted again to dice then to round white balls with the numbers removed. Liver, Heart, Neck --
He took a step backwards. The handwriting. It wasn't his.
He could hear someone writing. The squeak of the marker as it scratched out and smudged away the numbers. The soft pattering noise as a word was written in that not-so-neat handwriting that wasn't his that he recognized.
But it wasn't hers either.
"Who...?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"It's me." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"Don't you remember?" xxxxxxxxxxxx"It wasn't that long, Guy."xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxYou're being silly." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"Have you already forgotten?" xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"How could you forget me?"
He took a step back and away.
Then another.
And another.
He hid.
OOC
Character's name: Guy Riley Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: Here, #59 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A guy with several piercings and tattoos, except his tattoos are covered up with a He-Man costume. Despite the apocalypse, he's still sporting yellow contacts that make his eyes look like tiny bats. Currently on top of his He-Man costume he is wearing a frayed once-fancy suit. He also has a white, pristine skull mask that he may or may not be wearing over his face that is an actual human skull.
Things weren't ever supposed to turn out this way. Guy Riley was never meant to be a leader. But things just... happened.
He was Undying. The words still tasted sour on his lips. He was too young, too inexperienced. There was a thought that his lack of self-awareness would ease the tension and bring some semblance of controlled chaos into the upheaval they were going through. He thought of himself as a figurehead, something for people to focus on while things worked as they always did in the background.
Traitor. He can't be trusted. Look what he did to Jeff. All of this was for petty revenge.
Guy ran his hand across his mouth. What he did; was it really a form of justice? Was it fair? Right? It wouldn't bring Her back. He was a promise-breaker. He couldn't be trusted.
Perhaps he should embrace it. After all, he was a cannibal. It didn't matter that eating the flesh of others gave him enough strength to survive. What he did was unforgivable in their eyes. They wanted him dead.
Luckily for them, they got what they wanted.
OOC
Character's name: Guy Riley Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: Here, #59 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A guy with several piercings and tattoos, except his tattoos are covered up with a He-Man costume. Despite the apocalypse, he's still sporting yellow contacts that make his eyes look like tiny bats. Currently on top of his He-Man costume he is wearing a frayed once-fancy suit. He also has a white, pristine skull mask that he may or may not be wearing over his face that is an actual human skull.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 11:59 pm
[ VICTIM'S POV ] [ DREAM SCENARIO: BLACK DOOR ]
Oscar's dreams were amazing.
He'd started off on a beach, chilling, drinking a margarita and flirting with a tanned girl on the side, feeling genuinely good and like he needed a vacation. His thoughts eventually blurred, a sort of strange, empty feeling curling in him. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in front of three doors, freshly tanned and wet with the salty water. Dripping, leaving small puddles on the floor, Oscar lifted his sunglasses from his eyes, staring at them. This was ...strange. He walked up to each of them, inspecting them before finally picking the black door.
Oscar could feel his body fly in, scattered memories of his family and friends flying around his head-- Friends he hadn't seen in a month, life he hadn't lived in years. Suddenly, he blinked, only to find himself... Changed? He looked around, piercing grey eyes watching around him, curious and slightly nervous. He looked so regal. This was a world... So hightech. His kinda world. He wished he'd-- No wait. He was a king. Of course he was regal. His old thoughts were flooded now by overwhelming thoughts of surprise before becoming thoughts of giddiness, rushing outside only to see his subjects out there, pleased, happy. His mental world was full of high tech people, and this realization made him more and more excited. As he looked at them, so small, below him, Oscar's eyes widened in realization.
He was above them. Literally and physically. A dark smile spread across his face.
All those against him could suffer a painful death, organized personally by his own men. A burning feeling coursed through him, eyes glimmering in the light of the fire coursing through him.
The voices, the whispers-- They suddenly disappeared all at once, thoughts replaced by a deafening silence ringing in his ears. While Oscar didn't remember exactly what it was he dreamt, he did remember the power he felt. The fulfillment. The excitement. He felt his insides churn at the thought-- Why was it that all good things must come to an end? Especially when they were particularly beneficial to him. Oscar blinked and startlingly found himself again in front of 3 doors. Red, purple, and yellow. Oscar's eyes stared, analyzed the door better said, swallowing hard as he eyed their patterns. Who was he kidding. Oscar didn't care about meaning. With a rush, he grabbed the door handle tightly and pulled it open, soul feeling the rush before his own body could comprehend it. He was overwhelmed by the new emotions, a tornado of thought coursing through his brain like a tumor.
Why was he a god? A small voice inside of him wondered this as he listened to the requests of humans-- The requests of war, destruction, and ultimately-- Chaos. They looked to him in times of need because they desired him, sacrificing food and drink for his wisdom and power, his rage and justice. Only... What was justice? What was wisdom? He didn't know. He just knew they thought he had it, so he did what they asked.
How wrong that was.
Oscar did as they asked, every question, everything within his power. He wanted to be perfect for them, but he was anything but. He ripped apart other humans like paper, following what they said. Eventually, it became fun. His fingers would enjoy squishing their heads like grapes, their bodies like dolls. Even those he'd loved, those you cared about-- They perished in the wake of his destruction.
He was eternal. He was... a monster.
When he realized where he was again, it was back, in the dream. He stared at the last door.
It was time to go in.
Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2015 8:04 am
[ DREAM SCENARIO: VIOLET DOOR ]
For a time, things were as they were supposed to be. His name was Charles, and he was a guardian.
Chosen by the people, embraced by greater power, he used his skills and newfound position to help those around him. Everyone was given the same aid, the same treatment. He showed no bias, helping friend and foe in their times of need. To the individual, he was a saint.
To the general populace, he was a menace.
Because he so blindly helped wherever was needed, he sometimes would help both sides in disputes. He was considered a great aid yes, but if his aid was not currently on whatever side the individuals placement was on, he was the enemy.
It was a bitter struggle, the people eventually forgetting all the good he did for them and seeing only his deeds as against them. They craved retribution, wanting to destroy the 'monster' they created. They no longer wanted help, no longer needed it. They wanted to stand on their own two feet, wanted to take care of matters themselves instead of relying on the efforts of their once-guardian.
So when they came to put a end to it all, he was ok with it. Because he was no longer needed.
Lilwolfpard
Magical Unicorn
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Jaglion
Enigmatic Gambler
Offline
Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2015 9:00 am
[ RESCUER POV ]
She woke.
Autumn didn't remember falling asleep, nor did she remember it being so cold. She shivered. Something felt off, like there was fly buzzing around in her head. It was uncomfortable, and she had the feeling that something was watching, listening to her thoughts and feelings. She clutched her bow tighter, and a voice rang in her head.
It spoke to her. It was painful, but she listened. Secrets, weapons, knowledge, awakening and then, blackness.
She awoke again, to a loud thumping. It kept thumping, and then there was pain. Something had just stabbed her. When her vision focused, Autumn could clearly see what it was. A vine, a long thorn covered vine, and it began to drag her away. There was nothing to grab onto, and it pulled her deeper into the mess of pulsating,vines. She couldn't look at the vines, so she stared at the floor, the humming in her mind only getting louder.
She tried to think of how to escape, and for a moment, wished that Kreston was some sort of blade rather than a bow. The thought didn't stay for long, and she heard the words again. She continued to be dragged, and as she was drawn closer to the center, she understood.
Not one, but part of many. She was part of something greater, something amazing.
No! Another part of her responded, fighting back. They were part of a bigger picture yes, but not like this. They were..
She couldn't remember. What had she been before? What was her name? She couldn't remember. Everything was fading, and presence around her overwhelming. She was unimportant, and pushed aside like dust in the wind.
This was what she was.
OOC
Name: Autumn Tremblay Faction: Deus Suspecies/Division: Mist General appearance: This girl reminds you of a playful puppy. She has wide chestnut eyes. Her hair is bright blue, and is worn in a french braid that reaches to her mid back. She is short, 5'2" and is fairly skinny. Her skin is hazel. She is wearing a Deus coat, and a purple scarf. HP: 40/40
