[center][h1]Zima the Cursed[/h1][/center]

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[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3A9Pvin7dE&list=PLRBNLCMaUFw2AdgtiDNmN0DEouJX8roiH&index=17]Something Lost[/url][/center]

There was only sorrow. An endless amount of it. That was what Zima felt when her eyes opened and her senses returned. She gripped herself tight, a numbing cold running down her back. She looked up to judge what time of day it was. The world had gone dark but it wasn’t night. She could see the sun but its warmth and light eluded her. That sun, it looked wrong, like a foggy haze covered it and the sky. Or maybe that was just her vision? Zima rubbed her eyes and opened them again. She could still see of course but it was a different view then what she remembered and still like before, misty. 

The spirit sat up with a single thought and took in her surroundings again just to be sure. She frowned, for her entire world was covered in a haze that muted once bright and vivid colors. Trees dripped with water, like looming giants waiting to see the light of day. The bank she sat on was damp and dark. Swirls of the spectral mist whipped and blew here and there. She felt as if that was just how it was now, a depressing sight. Why was that? Not really thinking, or thinking too much, Zima plunged her hand into the wet sand, eyes going wide as her fingers went in. In the past… She could not do that. She would have had to possess it with her strength, take control and use it as a body. 

She removed her and looked out at the still and quiet lake. The gate, she found, was still there. Even covered in a haze it stood out to her like a beacon. She could see the Vahuras ferrying souls, like the squirrel that brought her and…

Mish-Cheechel.

Pain erupted in her mind as she re-lived her most recent memories and Zima grimaced. The tunnel run. Mish vanished into the air. She ran after him. She… She looked to her hands to find them very much see through and grey. She moved them in the air before her, a smoky black after-image trailed where her appendage went. Where once this would have distrubed her, she hardly felt a thing. In fact, the pain in her chest and head had quickly faded once her memory had been jogged. 

She died again, hadn’t she?

But where was Mish? She looked around for him but she didn’t see anything or anyone. His curse meant he was alive somewhere, probably where the Green Murder killed them. She knew not where it was and didn’t really care. Mish had gotten her killed again. What had been the point of even trying to escape?

Well, she knew what to do. With or without him, she had said. It was time for peace. 

She rose and walked upon the water towards the gate. Each footstep left a small ripple in the water that faded into the dark waters. Leaving Mish behind would be fine. It was a decision she did not have to wrack her mind against. This was final and it would be so. It would also serve him right for getting her killed again. In fact, this was a mercy on her part! She would save him from having to make the hard decision to use her as a weapon again. That earlier trial where he had confessed to her about his thoughts, rang true in her own mind and Zima grew angry.

Her hands balled into fists as her posture straightened. This was all his fault to begin with! She had been stupid to wantingly kill herself just so they could scratch a god. How insane was that?

Before long the apparition from the first time she had arrived, rose from the water and stopped right before her, breaking her train of thought. Zima relaxed a little as she stared at it. 

“You may not pass.” It said suddenly, “You are not worthy.”

She froze. “What?” she asked in a voice with brimming emotion, taken aback.  She blinked, and rubbed at her throat. Even her voice sounded different, almost lifeless and devoid of energy. “H-How am I not worthy?” She managed to say. 

“Only the worthy dead my pass. You are neither dead nor worthy.” It crossed its arms, loose robes tattered and drifting far too slowly for it to be wind. 

“What… What do you mean?” Zima asked, eyes growing wide, breath quickening. If she needed to breathe or not, it was lost upon her as her mind tried to wrap itself around what the apparition was telling her.

“You are not dead. How could you be worthy?” It stated as a matter of fact. 

Zima blinked. She looked at the gate, then all the souls being brought to it. Giant squirrels, bats, owls, other creatures she could not name brought the shapes and forms of bjork, beast and other humanoid creatures. Some wept, some shouted, others were silent. 

“I’m not alive.” She said, glaring back at the apparition. “I can see the gate. I can see those souls being ferried! Only the dead may do that.” She pointed at herself. 

“They are worthy. You, on the other hand, are not alive. Nor are you dead. You are not worthy, Zima Zimmer. One who is cursed may not pass.” It began to pass beneath the waves, like before, saying one last thing. “You are barred from the underworl-”

Or at least it was going to, before Zima lurched forward and grabbed it by its ethereal garbs. Water rippled underneath her as her fists clenched the creature who made no sense. Though the figure had no face, she could feel its full gaze upon her. “Unhand me. Now.” It commanded.

Zima did no such thing. It was not an impulse that drove her to grab the figure, it had been something else more nefarious. She wanted answers and it didn’t get to leave without telling her what she wanted to know. A scowl formed on her face, born of hate.

“No. I won’t until you give me a better answer.” Her voice grew with anger and disbelief. “You aren’t making any sense. How can one not be alive and not be dead? I’m cursed? How? Why?” It said nothing to her, nor did she give it the opportunity to do so. “Tell me.” Her voice cut like a knife, growing distraught. “Why won’t you say anything? Just tell me! TELL ME!” She shouted at it and the figure began to squirm in her grasp, trying to break free. 

A black, smoking flame quickly spread from her fingertips and across the figure’s robes. Where the fire consumed, its body wore away to nothing. It only gasped as she watched it become nothing within her grasp. Zima had never even let go. 

Her hands shook as she looked at them. What had she just done? What had… She had just killed. She had just… Murdered. The thing that was Zima caught her reflection in the glassy waters below and she stared at the creature that looked back. Gaunt was her face, harrowed and tired. Her entire body was practically see through with swirling grey lines and black after-images. Her hair drifted in a breeze she could not feel. But it was her eyes she could not peer away from. Black pupils, surrounded by a deep crimson in a sea of grey. Where once they had been blue and friendly, now her eyes only reminded her of something darker and pervasive. 

Zima recoiled and tried to change forms, tried to make the living nightmare end but it was no use. She had been attuned so strongly to the world and now her connection was gone. She could not change her form, she could not even use the waters as a shield to hide her visage. 

Yet. It was not her image that frightened her, however. It was more so that she felt nothing for what she had just done to that apparition. A greater part of her was more annoyed at the fact she hadn’t gotten any answers to her current predicament. Another part only felt disgust at the act but even that was fading. 

She clutched her fists again and strode forth towards the barrier with renewed focus. About halfway to it, she felt repulsed by some invisible shield. No matter how much she wanted to go on, the Gate never became closer. This didn’t work well with her, so Zima screamed with rage and battered her fists on the force that repelled her. Black flame leaked from her hands, dripping into the water and making it exhume a dark steam. It was odorless and Zima paid no attention to it as she pounded her fists against the unknown. 

With a final strike, she was flung far back onto the water, sending violent waves as she sank beneath the waves. It was an odd sensation, for it felt as if she was falling through the water. It did not want to touch her and only then did Zima gain a semblance of control over herself. She landed on the murky bottom and stared up at the darkness.

What had she become? She clutched at her bare chest.

Something was missing… Try as she might to remember, she could not. What was it? What had it been? Where had it gone? Who [i]took[/i] it? She was not the same as she was before. This was not a startling fact, for it felt as if it had always been so. But that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. She remembered everything before she rushed through the gate. How life had been, how she had acted, how she had felt. 

But now?

They felt like the land around her, foggy. She grabbed her head and slammed a fist into her temple out of frustration. Gritting her teeth she let out an anger filled cry, muffled by the water. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t like this. What was she missing? What was-

A rock sank right beside her. Then another, a small ways off. Zima perked up and calmed herself just enough to stand upon the rocky bottom before she floated to the surface. Another rock came tumbling down as she neared the surface. There was some sort of muffled voices up on land.

She peaked her eyes up out of the water and saw a strange sight. There stood two figures. Both were breathtakingly pale with glowing blue eyes. The smaller one, a boy, with stark white hair, was being held back by the larger figure. One hand was over his mouth and the other was gripping his wrist, which held a rock. The larger figure was a girl, with wide blue eyes and long grey hair. They wore fur garments and then the boy, with his free hand pointed at her. The girl turned to look and froze. She blinked and her eyes stopped glowing, then the boy’s. IThey looked shocked to see her.

The girl gave a quick and hasty bow, before she began to pull away the boy with great haste. Enough that he dropped his last rock. Zima erupted from the water and landed upon the surface, sending waves. She shouted at them, “Wait! WAIT!” as she began to give chase but they didn’t stop, vanishing into the forest. 

Zima reached the beach, her legs carried her with a speed she had never known on two legs. She could hover but could she even fly still? She shook her head, there would be time for that but not now. She didn’t know who they were but Zima was intrigued and there was nothing at the gate for her anymore. 

She would have answers to her questions, no matter what it took. 

[hider=Summary]
Zima wakes up from her transformation and thinks herself dead again since she can see souls and what not. She looks around for Mish, blames him for her predicament and gives up. So she heads out over the water and is stopped by the ghost apparition again, who says she cannot pass for she is neither dead, worthy, or even alive for that matter. This doesn’t go over well with Zima and she accidentally murks the dude. She finds out she cannot even get close to the gate, for she is repulsed by an unseen force and so throws a tantrum and sinks to the bottom of the lake. A little later she sees that rocks are being thrown down and nearly hitting her at the bottom so she goes to investigate and finds two Voirans, a boy and a girl, who upon seeing two crimson eyes peering out from the water at them, dip real fast. So Zima gives chase.
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[hider=Spirit]
Zima = 16
+1 for post
+1 for main char
+1 for medium length

= 19 Spirit for Zima
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