Fallenreaper

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Lyn

Lyn was scared.

Her heart seemed to be pushing itself into her head, her mouth dry, and her scream was choking her within her throat. She had managed to get to her hands and knees while her toy had aided her slow crawl behind the wagon. Her fear was only increased when she noticed how far she was being left behind. Reflexively, her head darted backward to spot the fire, now gathered about the ropes, start to eat the other restrains she didn’t have the strength to affect. In minutes she would plummet to her death. At thought of the landing her head looked down, clearly against her toy’s wishes because it pretty much leapt in the middle of her vision. It used its fuzzy body to block the image of the rapidly rushing current, the rocks farther along, and the fact she wouldn’t survive very long. The fall itself would’ve been enough to kill her.

Lyn felt herself tremble horribly. Her fingers balled into fist while she tried to hurry herself along, a pointless task, and the toy helped the best it could. It wouldn’t matter she knew, somehow deep inside, it wouldn’t. She was going to die. The sound of that filled her with dread that it seemed to consume her mind. It numbed, her brain unable to think clearly or note her surroundings which was she jumped when Meirin scooped her up within her arms. Her toy had hitched a ride by leaping onto Lyn’s arm, close enough the child instinctively cling to it, namely for comfort.

Closer, closer their figures drew to the bridge in a race against the flames licking up the posts and eating the fire. Lyn’s eyes looked over Meirin’s shoulder just in time to see the last of the ropes give away. As if in slow motion, the ropes fell followed by a ripple within the planks behind them and rushed toward their retreating wake. It seemed determined to catch them up within its downward decent.

Lyn’s grip tightened, which might’ve warned Meirin or the woman extremely alert, giving a slight broken whimper. As luck would’ve had it, her grip’s strength fell short of Meirin’s next effort. Without warning Lyn felt herself ripped away and thrown toward the solid ground, clearing the gap by several feet. Naturally her eyes looked backwards with terror and sadness, increased by the realization she might’ve killed her savior with her foolishness. Like a rag doll she flew at the dirt and she half expected to feel the familiar scrap and skinning fraction would’ve had given her on landing. Instead, she felt a warm body soften her fall. A grunt of pain and effort pushed out from her aunt’s lungs while both Lyn and her crumbled to the ground. Alaira’s arms were wrapped around her, protecting her not only from her trembling but any injury on landing. Lyn had barely heard Ssarak to holler to the others to protect her when he dived for Meirin.

Right now everything was in a haze, her body shaking uncontrollable and her eyes stared off to the side. She couldn’t stop. Even if she wanted to or realize she was safe, her mind kept repeating the same guilt ridden thing over and over: She just gotten someone killed. So when Alaira, broken and bleeding slightly, finally caught her breath long enough to ask a question, Lyn’s barely held together emotions burst out. Tears soaked her cheeks quickly while she whimpered, her face buried into the half elf’s shoulder. Her body violently shook even when she held within Alaira’s arms, the gesture barely comforting her. Instead it felt like the world had fell away and she was responsible for it all. Her body started to curl, guilt ridden and unable to move beyond her chest’s heaving that seemed like it would give out.

She killed the woman, someone who saved her! Lyn couldn’t stop the sobs which escaped through her mouth until her lungs burned, and still she continued until it felt like her tears were dried up. Likely when Ssarak and Meirin returned they would find Lyn still clearly upset over the event which had happened. It was bad enough she hadn’t noticed Aunt Alaira coughing up blood, the red flecks soaked within the ground or their return. Ssarak, if his psychomancy was still in tune, would be washed over by Lyn’s emotions immediately. The feeling a mixture of pain, sadness, and most dominate…guilt.

If he edged deeper, which wasn’t hard due to Lyn’s wards completely down, then word would begin to be attached to the emotions. I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t mean… she should’ve left me on the bridge, not die. No…

A Little Roc Surprise

Memories of a Skeleton's Life

Many, many years ago for Arcadius:

The moment Arcadius had so long ago touched the cane, it activated. It glowed a sickly green lighting up what was within his small prison, the door stuck fast with runes and ancient writings long forgotten, a dim and brief escape from the darkness. However, in a moment, pain beyond measure, at least one his mortal mind could measure, ripped his body apart. Skin and muscle unraveled like thread on a spindle leaving nothing but clean bone behind and a slight glow which soon faded back into darkness. The last words he would hear before his long isolation were a sweet, gentle chuckling child’s voice. Duuri’s, clearly ignorant that her ‘gift’ had both blessed and cursed Arcadius with a terrible immortality, she seemed to speak within his head with utter glee.

“Hey, you found one of my relics. I hope you enjoy my gift!”

Present Time

In the distance beyond the small group was a wagon. Within the main part were things which ranged from College supplies to food goods, and other materials to sell when the merchant arrived. Including a rune covered coffin. Despite its age and burial underground inside a tomb near Yarsomere a few months back, it seemed as pristine as when it was first created. A odd quality the merchant thought a certain vampire teacher within the Twilight College might be interested in purchasing.

Within the coffin, Arcadius could’ve likely felt the whole journey. From his recovery within the tomb, to the excavation, and seemingly endless wagon exchanges but any attempts to gain attention through either shouts or bangs were foiled by the soundless runes placed on the outside. No one would’ve realized he was inside despite any efforts on his part, if any. So, in the end all Arcadius could do was settled in for the long trip. Though he would feel a sudden jerk when the wagon came to an abrupt stop. His bones likely banged against the coffin as he heard muffled curses and anger towards one ‘stubborn ass’ which was the cause of their abrupt and uncomfortable stop.

Naturally what the skeleton within the coffin had felt was the owner struggling with his mule. The beast had stopped its movement and fixed itself to the spot with no willingness to cooperate beyond trying to nip him. Again the merchant cursed. Its braying was easily heard by the party if they chose to quiet down, namely cause there was nothing else to complete with it, while he cursed the beast’s very living existence. Again and again he tugged the animal’s reins only to fail. In frustration he tossed up his arms in defeat and turned, spotting the small group. He nearly jumped out of his skin at that point. His instinctive response was that they were bandits and once more renewed his rein tugging to the road side, the mule unwilling to budge. Instead it seemed to panic. Its nostrils flared and head jerked side to side, its hooves raised then stomped. The flanks tried to struggle out of the restraints which were highly felt by Arcadius’s coffin, not being secured other than a single strap and slammed against the sides repeatedly. Luckily none where painful enough to shatter any bones.

It seemed the mule’s reaction was contagious. In moments, the wind shifted, all the pack animals started to steer away. The mage’s horses whinnied in fear and jerked, their head broke free of any restraints which held them. Their eyes started to roll while saliva spittle from their muzzles when they bolted back towards the College causing their guide to curse and attempt to rein in his own animal. Any attempted not to retrieve them would result in a loss of their rides and other goods attached to them.

Meanwhile, the ballista send was also in deep trouble. The two draft horse used to haul it had showed the same wildness and had tried to rip themselves free from the straps. The largest draft horse, one nicknamed Samson, had been smart enough to start to nip at the leather. With his large teeth it took no time to fray it until a loud snap could be heard and both horses were off. Unless at least one was caught then likely the weapon wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. It would only take moments for the smaller draft horse to head in the College’s direction. However Samson would stick about for a little longer before he too would be gone into the nearest wooded area.

Distracted by the animal’s reaction, no one might’ve noticed the very cause of it. A large shadow darkened over the merchant’s wagon causing the man to look up in awe and fear. The she Roc had come into view. She tilted her wings upright and reached her bluish claws out, fixed to tear the man into pieces when he screamed a blood curling one. A piercing shriek was followed in her victory while she trapped the man within her talons. Her narrow head lowered then started to rip the flesh off her small morsel, the mule reared and bucked itself free knocking the wagon over in its attempt to escape. In the chaos, Arcadius’s coffin was tossed which cracked a rune and opened the lid.

Now he was exposed and venerable to being killed, but luckily the Roc was too distracted with her meal to notice him. At least yet…

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Sep said
It's having to be vote accepted again? Literally all I changed from when it was accepted is from noxomancy to runes :P

Which I might add, you didn't do that for one key part. It's not Lues magic anymore, it's Ancient. :P

Anyway, you're currently in the IC now so enjoy.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Mib seems to like my computer better then the chatzy, and the fact I can address multiple issues in all my rps at the same time is easy for me. Chaos is a very comforting thing despite my difficulty handling it. XD

Also, Sep since we worked on your Cs together and my issues on it was sorted then it has my vote.

Stargate - Alliances

Sep said
Fallen: You up for a Rea'c/Kay collab of her in the infirmary? Forsythe, Ellri and Echo finishing up the rest.

Sure, I actually a bit of an earlier post started since I wasn't sure when I was able to return and assumed it would likely be after this esp. So I can alter it a bit to lead up to something I've aiming to do as an individual Plotline for Kay herself to span through out the chapters.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Jiggled Rtron which now, if I receive no answer from him then I'll move the Djarkel mission along myself Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday latest. Also, a sound off please? Namely to ensure who's still around and not.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Lol, nope I get to sick the Roc onto him and so will enjoy.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Crossark said
Just checked back and saw Cynn under Absent Characters. I apologize for the confusion if any was caused, but I thought I had given notice that I wouldn't be able to post for a long amount of time and that I was hoping to store her.

I don't recall any Pm, though if you mentioned then I'm sorry and will change it. I was doing several things the last time I edited namely helping new blood with their PCs.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Mar's up though it was a pain on my iPhone, currently my computer's being a little screwy and hopefully I can fix it by tonight. Still, I'll try to move the Roc mission within the next two days for those waiting on me.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Mar

The next few days were pure misery for Mar.

All the way the wagon's bumpy ride rattled her down to her very bones while she coiled tightly around herself, namely to keep from hurting the others. Though it was an impossible accomplishment which only added to her growing irritation. The worst part, it wasn't the close quarters or the crowded situation that bothered her most but the confinement of their travel. Rock and caves were one thing, usually there was enough room to move at least. A moving box was another.

For most of the journey she was silent like rest of the current company. Her eyes skimmed the desolate background while it shifted from color drained surroundings to the healthy green, so different from the yellows and browns in Yarsomere. She felt a slight pang of homesickness tug at her heart. Even more tragic was the fact Lyn would likely never Yarsomere.

Slowly the carriage ride drew to a close and it was time to escape this wobbling death trap. The guide had spoken more words, many more then before, while they filed out then vanished into ruins. The moment Mar stretched out on the wide space was when she felt the effects of a long trip. She ached from her shoulders right down to her tail, every inch seemed to scream at her when they arrived at their destination.

The scene wasn't what she expected.

Ambers of a fresh fire, only hours old, burned into dimming embers where several huts seemed to once stand. Mar flickered her tongue and winched. The air was filled by cooked flesh and wood, including a scent she was unfamiliar with. Among it all as if immune to the scene of death was a single, large home. It was a disturbing sight to say the least while she continued to examine the carnage. Three humans, Yarsomere soldiers, caught her attention quickly causing her lean over their deceased corpses. Her fingers gently prodded their unmoving forms in hopes to see any clues to what might've killed them. Then the one called Leith spoke about demons being the cause against Grey's earlier observations that it was Noxomancy, Althalus's blood if she remembered right, and Mar nodded in agreement with the prior, "It's true and from the half eaten corpses, it's highly likely demons of some type. However I think this is more of a killing ground then a raid or single assault. Which means the killers might still be lurking about..."

Her eyes shifted past the soldiers and immediately her face paled, all color drained from its surface when she spotted a young, dark haired child laying face down. Mar edged closer. Impossible, can't be, it shouldn't be. It wasn't until her body was inches from the thin corpse did she reach out a hand, trembling slightly, to turn over the young six year old. Her heart pounded within her chest and seemed to drown out her surroundings before her fingers wrapped about the small shoulder. With a slow tug the child was rolled over onto her back revealing the half burnt face and dead eye staring back at her.

It wasn't Lyn.

The reality washed guilty relief over Mar. Still, though she hadn't realized, she was visibly shook up by the thoughts unwilling pouring through her head. Why or how she had come to jump such ridiculous conclusions but she had. Another slap in her face of what she was becoming.

Her emotions were ripped from their rattle state when the teen's high pitch voice came through the door. Mar's had whipped about, her fingers tightened on the scythe Tyrael had given her while she eagerly left the child's image behind. Too bad it was still fixed in her mind when she joined the others.

Naturally Athalus and the others were drawn to it as it had escaped the mayhem. The moment Althalus approached however, a young voice rattled off both non sense and a warning to leave. Mar had little experience to deal with such matters and wasn't insulted Grey chose a better candid, her face tried to remain indifferent though inside was another matter. Coco however seemed to feel otherwise, her leaves out of shape and jerked upright to show her discomfort. Mar sighed then spoke.

"Coco. Inhale then exhale, slow and steady. Calm yourself is a good first step then act as you usually do. Like you would with Lyn, gentle and friendly. The boy is either a victim or the cause of this, but we won't know for sure until he speaks with us."

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Caravan Mission

An Unexpected Turn

Deep within wagon was a medium, unmark box. And inside that was a small figure. Lithe, quiet, and sleeping, Lyn had curled up among the straw contents which cradled her body. It was both warmth and softer then the box’s wood as she let her breath rustle the straw reeds with each snore. Currently Lucilia had the foresight to dress Lyn in something other than just a tunic. Her outfit was still simple, an oversize traveling tunic and tight breeches, with a belt to hold both a pouch filled by Lucilia’s Elixirs, some foodstuffs, and her weapon. She stirred slightly when the wagon came to an abrupt halt, but didn’t wake. Instead a few crumble on her body scattered into the straw heaped around before she settled back into slumber. Her grip upon her toy however had loosened as the little toy began to move, its simple mind and function popped it to life for a moment. Slowly it detangled itself then edged to one of the box sides. It reached out a small paw and touched the smoothed out interior, applying a slight pressure while the wood seemed to creak in protest. While the events outside their little hiding place continued, the toy examined the confines until it was satisfied then waddled back to a whimpering Lyn and crawled back under her arm causing her to relax.

It didn’t last long.

When the horses bolted forward, everything shifted abruptly within the wagon. Including Lyn’s box. The more fragile goods broke instantly, their contents leaked while the heavier toppled onto the side and nearby boxes. One particular heavy object fell to the side as it weighed down the box lid, trapping Lyn within. The child inside felt her body thrown against the nearest side, her body felt the sharp pain of being smacked hard then let out a small cry. Likely the sound was lost within the outside scene’s chaos and horse’s cries.

Then the smoke started to pour into Lyn location. It was subtle at first, followed by her coughing before it built to a harsh throat rattling one.What was happening? Lyn’s mind wandered while she felt her insides shake and her groggy sensation quickly fade in her fear. Her hand fisted near her mouth in a futile attempt to control the coughing. Tears had started to bud at her eye corners, her vision slightly blurred by them and this caused her to push up at the box’s lid. Nothing. It didn’t move and Lyn’s eyes widened in terror. She shoved her shoulder harder against it, but it didn’t budge. Why didn’t it move? She had started to whimper in distress, unable to figure out what had happened and no clue how to fix it. Lyn didn’t want to die here. The little girl had started to wonder why she had been so foolish as to hid within a crate in the first place, now she was going to die because of it. The tears seemed to pour in greater strength despite her shoulder’s pain and tenderness from her continual pushing.

This was enough to upset her toy into its sole purpose: protect Lyn. Without wasting any time, it picked itself out of the straw to quickly waddle to the box side and raised a small paw. Slink! Five pairs of steel claws, a few inches in length each, unsheathed from its plushy paw suddenly. They were wicked sharp and able to bloody and rip flesh easily when used. It embedded its claw right into the softer wood where it then started to tear away pieces, creating a small hole. Wood splintered easily under the aggressive action and in a short time, there was a small escape and it gently turned to Lyn. It had retracted its claws and took hold of her arm, gently but with firm strength beyond the stuff toy’s body capabilities started to pull Lyn along.

Scared she was as any child would’ve been within this situation, yet Lyn crawled through into the smoke and fire light. Just like her toy wanted. The students wouldn’t know what emerged from the wagon’s back thanks to the smoke billowing around, her features hidden when she stood up in the back. She squinted against the harsh elements while she absorbed the scene around her. Her Aunt Alaira had already leapt the gap to the other side, her feet and body hunched low in the familiar posture of sneaking, a rare thing for Lyn to see because usually her Aunt was a more a head on hunter then her mother. There were other sounds, shouts and a curse, causing Lyn to look to the only other figures on the bridge: Meirin, Ssarak, and Darius.

Lyn felt her heart stop when she saw Meirin’s body strung up between the rope and post, the woman’s face filled with stress and pain while she held onto the frayed rope end. Ssarak was naturally right behind her and trying to help, followed by Darius who moved right past the wagon to the other side. It wasn’t’ hard to spot him through the haze as he curses were rather vocal. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before they all tumbled into the river and was washed away.

She had to help them. Her small figure had leapt over the wagon back, briefly bring her toy alongside her, as her feet smacked the planks on landing then reached out for the nearest rope. Despite it being dead, the rope was made from plant materials since it was cheaper and more plentiful, allowing Lyn to be of some use with her magic. She poured her mageblood into the item with as much focus as she dared. Thanks to Lucilia’s earlier doses still pulsing through her system, Lyn’s magic was slightly amplified to a higher level than her novice skills should’ve been able to do. Some of the rope turned a vivid green and moved, its broken threads started to stretch out and twist about the post firmly creating another fasten. It wasn’t the best and it was temporary, already it was strained moments after its creation, but it might buy the wagon some time to trot across. At least until the fire burn through the other side. Lyn was feeling the past due effects, her hands trembled and heavy, yet she couldn’t stop. The other rope, the one Meirin was holding, still needed to be fixed and it was likely going to be the hardest since it was already broken.

Unable to do it while the group held onto the rope and its end too far from the post, Lyn squirmed in place, unsure at how to tell them what to do. It wasn’t until she noticed Ssarak’s scale coloring that she realized what blood he might’ve been. Remembering what Satori had once told her, Lyn fought back her hacking to gather her thoughts carefully. Then, when she was satisfied with the effect, she put most her mental effort in to throwing her mental words towards Ssarak. She only hoped his wards were down to allow her message through.

‘Mr. Esyire, move the rope closer to the post. I can latch it. Please, hurry! I don’t think the other will hold for long…’ If Ssarak had ever encountered Lyn before, a possibility since sometimes she visited Satori, then likely he might recognize her mental voice in a way. That is if the message got through.

Either way, Lyn scrambled across to the other rope. Her foot slipped when the bridge shifted either by the fact one rope was held by an unsteady post or merely the students started to follow her request was an uncertainty, yet it didn’t matter. Lyn let out a small yelp when she was brought down hard. Her lip split and bled when she hit the hard planks. She ignored the pain. Determined to reach the rope, she forced herself to her knees then threw her arm out for it. Missed. Her hand was a few inches short. Lyn huffed in anger then tried again. Success swelled within her chest when she felt the rope in her grasp, rapidly poured what remained of her boosted magic into it. It would slither through the rope, its strands reached to fix itself once more to the post before its growth died, securing the bridge for a limited time.

However there was a catch. Lyn’s body slumped to the bridge’s floor and fell to all fours, her lungs breathing hard while the scene spun around her. Not good. She knew she had get back into the wagon but when she tried to stand, her head felt light and ached in protest causing her to fall back down. No…no, Lyn whined within her head. Any psychomancer could easily feel her worry and fear, an indication something wasn’t right. Already her toy was trying to pull her towards the wagon, its strength beyond a normal toy, while it struggle. It might’ve not lacked the strength to carry Lyn, but its smaller size made it clumsy and awkward which hindered this great trait. Too bad Uicle hadn’t taken this into account when he created Lyn’s little protector or else, alone, the toy would’ve been able to carry the small girl back into the wagon. Right now, unless it was helped, the process was going to a very slow one.