bobert778

Betwixt the Eternal Light

Having been ready to leave, Pick turned towards the sound of a voice which after so long in silence had startled him. Another man, off in the distance and across the rise of an uneven ridge had called Pick's attention before he could retreat back to lower ground. For the time being, Pick's thoughts of this land and the map were moved to the back of his mind as he watched the old man hobble closer. As he neared, Pick had taken the time to put away his map, don his helmet, and pull his shovel from the earth then could only listen as the stranger began to speak.

Pick nodded slowly at the mention of being lost, but what small hope that had given him began to fade as this clearly delusional man started to babble about some wandering murderer. Somewhat concerned, now not only for the man but practically everything, Pick opened his mouth to speak but the stranger turned away and motioned for Pick to follow as if he had agreed to do so.

"Um, I'm sorry?" were the first words that managed to find Pick's tongue as he rushed a few steps forward to catch up with the old man, an easy task to say the least. "Sir, you'd be right in guessing that I'm lost but I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. Are you native to this region? I can't say I've ever been here before. I'm- how did I get here..." Pick had inquired, his words trailing off as earlier concerns began to plague him. "Sir, where are we?" Pick then asked, his tone slightly panicked as for once he began to think. He'd been underground for how long? How many times had he woken up with cold stone to his face and put back to sleep with hot teeth in his side? How?

Pick addressed the man again, "Sir?" as his pace slowed to a stop, twisted and unhappy thoughts entering his mind. Suddenly everything he'd ignored before revealed itself to be as nonsensical as the map he'd been reading only a moment ago, and just like the map when he looked at things as a whole they made no sense. Pick's face noticeably grew paler, and he felt sick to his stomach as thoughts of the horrors he'd escaped from began to creep among his blurred mind. Again the pain in his ribs returned, in an effort to keep himself upright Pick drove his shovel into the earth to use as a support.

Betwixt the Eternal Light

"Fuck," Pick muttered, reaching the top of another steep ridge to see he'd somehow been turned around again. After leaving the forest Pick had understood the terrain ahead as a few rolling hill of grass, not these deep canyons and massive trenches that were almost like a walled maze at some points. Again he'd managed to find a slope that inclined softly enough to actually climb, and just like the last five times when he got to the top Pick found he had been going in any direction other than towards the mountain.

"Fucking, fuck- fuck -f-!" Pick stammered, positive he had tracked each and every turn he made correctly. He should have still been heading for the mountain, but instead for the past hour he'd been traveling towards what looked like more rolling hills, and after that an empty wasteland. Stress beginning to get the better of him, Pick kicked at the dead grass beneath him and pulled on the hair left unprotected by his helmet. Angrily, he drove his shovel into the ground and knelt beside it, grabbing the map from his jacket and laying it down on the ground before him. With a frustrated huff Pick then removed his helmet, running his other hand through his hair while he placed the helmet on top of the shovel's erect handle.

"Where am I?" he softly asked the map, hoping it would somehow start to make more sense. If anything it made even less sense than before, as for the first time Pick noticed the map's compass was missing. This wouldn't have been a problem if everything was drawn from the same perspective, but that wasn't the case as what looked like a village was upside down and on the opposite side of the map as the mountain. In an attempt to make sense of this oddity, Pick turned the map 180 degrees with the belief that he had somehow mistaken an upside down fissure or canyon for what he'd believed was a mountain. As his eyes looked over the rest of the tattered paper though, he saw everything was drawn with the same inconsistency. A picture of the sun lay in the center of the map, a forest of crisscrossing trees surrounding it. Around that and in various corners of the map were several poorly drawn types of terrain and oddities, with faded and almost nonexistent scribbles of writing here and there.

With a defeated sigh, Pick turned the map back the way it was before with what he trusted was a mountain near the 'top' again. He then turned his head to it's real life counterpart, only able to hope the two monuments were one and the same. Unconsciously the now truly lost man licked his dry lips, and remembered the canteen at his side. Quickly he retrieved it and unscrewed the top, drinking a few heavy mouthfuls before returning it to be hidden under his jacket.

A hunched silhouette against the seemingly eternal twilight, Pick gathered his things and began climbing back down the ridge. His mind had begun to wander, actually thinking for the first time since he'd escaped the underground- and he began asking questions, like how he was still alive...

Betwixt the Eternal Light

@NewSun

So Perfect is following the Turncloak group, and the Turncloak group is heading to or through the forest, and Oblivion is in said forest? Then the graveyard group is kind on their own, and all those other characters I suppose are inactive.

Okay, that makes enough sense: Thank you that helps a lot :). I'm heading out now but might be on the OOC with my phone still if I get a chance. Later I'll work on a post once I'm at a computer :)

Betwixt the Eternal Light

Hey so I'm probably going to start typing a new post some time later in the day, but I'll be busy for a few hours so I can't start until then. Meanwhile I have a query or two about the IC, that hopefully someone will be able to answer.

So far to my understanding from what I've managed to read of the IC posts is that there are two groups and I'd like to be corrected if this is wrong but they include:

Group one (Graveyard?): Rook, John Cleaver, Important, and soon Ashgans character

Group two (No idea where they are): Jester, Sarah Downwell, Maldron, and the NPC Turncloak

Is everyone else wandering on their own right now? My other question is: do we individually work to find other characters or does NewSun control who finds who's footprints? The only reason I'm confused about this is because there doesn't seem to be set geography and I'm left wondering if the land possibly distorts it's borders.

Sorry for needing the clarification but between the collab posts and the fact that I'm not sure who's active I'm a little lost :P

The Dust

@Aeonumbra

The Hatter and I are working on a collab post. I think we might have it done soonish :).

Don't go crazy just yet- there's plenty of time for that when you're senile.

Betwixt the Eternal Light

I'm stroking my beard stubble in intrigue. So far I'm glad I've joined this RP :P

A friendly reminder to all on the test forums

Continue Testing

Betwixt the Eternal Light

@Ashgan

For a long enough time that Pick now only has a scant few memories, his short wake up routine is: Push self off the ground, try to avoid any action however minor that could cause death, discover a new wrong thing to do and die. The pain, which he believes is in his chest and not his back, has been the least of his worries. At this point he's started ignoring it is all since he can't properly feel it. As for someone trying to pull it out, we'll wait and see :).

Now regarding the map, I purposefully was very light in how I tread here. I have yet to describe anything else about the map, and there are mountains in the other world so this connection might be one that isn't there. I didn't even properly say where on the map the mountain is (only that it's in a corner), or if he's even reading it right. If these possible parallels are something NewSun wants to use then he may but for now things will remain vague and I'll keep my thoughts to myself ;). I have a plan, but it's very flexible.

Finally, yes the world before. While the oil headlamp is an invention that has only existed for a bit over 100 years (to my understanding), the world before doesn't seem to run perfectly with ours. 'Mer' are mentioned, and magic is apparently an existing factor. Normally when these are the case certain technologies can sprout up before their time. The idea of putting a lamp on a helmet was born of necessity, so the necessity could have come far sooner in the world our characters came from. That's all I have to say on my contribution to the confusion- I do my research to an extent :P

Betwixt the Eternal Light

Finally . Alright, first post is up and I'm lost as ever :P. I think I've put myself near one or two people but I can't be sure- I guess if anyone heard or saw him when he dug himself free then I have no objections as otherwise I'll just hope I find someone's footprints :). I'm heading to bed now- Gnight everyone.

@SirBeowulf

I kinda like him too :). He's the third draft of a character that started out a little more- out of place I should say. I think his first draft might actually make a good NPC if the future calls for it.

You will never take me alive! I will call upon my dark magikz to curse your land for a bagillion years heckechehcksskaind I like cleavers btw :P

@goodmorrowtou

Thank you :)

Betwixt the Eternal Light

Out of the Cave, and into the Fire

How long have I been down here? How many times? How-

Again he awoke to nothing but shadow, and that same pain persisted in his chest though now it had dulled. He always awoke face to the earth, his body cold and his things scattered out in the shadows. How many times had he gone through this? It was just rise, repeat- over and over again. He was beginning to forget what he was doing here, why would he be here? Who was he?

"Oy, Pick!"

Those words echo'd again in the back of his mind. 'Pick'. That was him name, right? Or was it 'Mate'? No- 'Pick' seemed right. But why? Why why why whywhwywhwywhwywhwywhwyyyy....

Another scream of frustration, another screech of the reaping soon to come, another splash of crimson never to see the light of day. How many times was that now? It was hard to remember how many- it was hard to remember at all.

Shivering, Pick pushed himself off the floor again, awakening the same way each time but still just as lost as he had been the first. Was there a first time? He couldn't remember- there must have been a first- cold...

A chilling quake ran down Pick's spine, and he shuddered as his eyes tried to adjust to the shadow. It had taken him only a few tries to learn that lighting his lamp always ended badly. Then it had taken a few more to learn that if his shovel scraped any stone that was it. Now he just had to get over the pain in his ribs, and stay quiet. His breathing became shallow as he tried learning to cope with the situation, little clouds of his breath dissolving into the stale air. It was coming again- it was only a mater of time before it took him again. IT was just waiting for him to do something wrong. Break one rule of it's twisted game and you had to start all over.

The board had changed this time though. With a hand pressing to the ground, Pick's scarred fingers lightly raked through what felt like soil. His pinkie caught on something, and he seized up in preparation for whatever had come to end him but nothing happened. It was only a root.

A root. Trees. The- the surface...

Shakily Pick pushed himself off the wall and onto his knees, feeling the dirt floor and finding both his shovel and helmet. They were his, weren't they? They were always there when he awoke, but still each time he clung to them till the end in fear he wouldn't see them again. Perhaps this time wasn't an end though- and with that thought, Pick stood in the tunnel and drove his shovel up. A soft crunch- soil fell downward, and in the distance something stirred. Again and again, Pick jabbed the spade over his head as more dirt fell away and roots crunched as they were snapped by the metal edge.

IT screamed, and with adrenalin pumping through his veins Pick clawed and stabbed at the earth above him. The rake of claws through soil accompanied the flood of shadow moving through the underground, and the pain in Pick's chest grew more intense with each clod of dirt that fell past him. IT was upon him, screaming in defiance of Pick's very existence and with one final cry the spade was thrust upward once more.

The tool left his hands, diving out of the tunnel and into the aperture of light it had created. The beam broke the darkness and stabbed through the shadow like the tooth of some great beast sinking into the flesh of the earth. Pick scrambled back, away from IT and shut his eyes in preparation for what came next.

There was nothing though. He didn't wake up this time- no, this time he was still awake. Slowly, Pick opened his eyes to see the beam of light shining down; dull but far brighter than anything he had seen for a long time. In the distance he could still hear the scrape of claws, though it was a slow and irregular sound now as opposed to the rapid clicks from moments ago. Knowing there would be no second chances, Pick looked toward the pinhole of light and clawed towards it, ripping apart the earth and emerging into the sunlight.

Pick pulled himself from the hole, sobbing as he hugged the brittle grass beneath him and kissed the dry soil it grew in. "YES!" He screamed towards the heavens, on his knees with fists held high in the air. He'd won the game, he'd beaten IT, he could return to what had been befo-

What was before?

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Pick took in his surroundings and felt that sense of loss return all to quickly. He was at the edge of a long dead forest, near the fringes of what he could see as rolling grass hills. A dry, "Oh," escaped Pick's cracked lips, hardly a whisper that was quickly blown away by a soundless wind. Slowly he pushed himself to stand, trembling as one hand grasped the handle of his shovel which he then used to help support his effort to get upright.

For a while, all he could do was look- examining the surrounding terrain and seeing there was far more to this land than just trees and hills. From his somewhat admirable vantage point, there was a fair amount of land to be seen but it all felt strangely empty and anything too far away was blurred, and shrouded by fog. The one thing that stood out though was the mountain- a king among the rest of the land's features which drew Pick's eye as if it were actually demanding his attention. A passing memory drifted through his skull, and with his free hand Pick dug through the pockets of his jacket until he found the tattered piece of paper he somehow knew would be there.

Sloppily, he unfolded it; the brown paper aged and filthy but still holding together well. Most of the map was unreadable, but on one of the far corners was a jagged looking triangle that could only be a mountain. It's name was faded to nothing, and whatever notes had been written near the shape were almost impossible to read.

This****************************** digg**g up ********** of va************************************ey were abando******************he people *********************************rbed sp************************ separated ************* here.

Pick squinted at the faded smudges, trying to make sense of what was still readable but failing. The one thing that he could connect though was 'separated here', and the large X drawn halfway up the mountain on what looked like a crag. "Huh," he murmured, looking at the mountain in the distance. Taking his only hint thus far, Pick folded the map up and left the forest behind with only the mountain now in his thoughts. Doesn't look that far, he thought, shovel clutched in one hand as he tried to ignore the aching in his ribs.