NaraK — Roleplayer Guild

Enemies were always made in a life affected by hopelessness. Sangue knew of this because she herself made enemies of her own. Some were eager to chase after her, knowing some of her untold, sinful tales. Some always hated her from the get-go and merely wanted to end her. Some were once her friends- people she trusted- and no longer recognized her as their own kind. Some simply dreamed of being horrifyingly twisted. Sitting in a completely white room, Sangue blinked as she woke up in a bright void. She had her belongings: her blade and her claw. Confused as to where she woke up in, the woman looked around, finding nothing but white surrounding her. A strange void that evoked a feeling of coldness made her shiver- it was a familiar and unpleasant feeling she felt when her life as a lone warrior began. White. Cold. Yet, uncomfortably familiar. Some enemies were never meant to meet certain people, and Sangue knew who could possibly bring such a feeling of emptiness. In fact, she probably met the man who imprisoned her here. “W̼̬̫̫̼̟͌͋͒̉͛́̚e͚̓l̻̬̪̺͓̩͈cͪ͑̏͘o̍͌̽ͧ̆͞m̪̫͔͚͐e̙̭͓̣͕͎͚ͩ̿̎́ ̦̮͍̐̔̎͘t͚͍̺͙̄́o̳̖̰̱͉̒͐̽ͅ ̼̦̣̹̥̟̏̎̏̐m͔̯͎̦̝͍̓̎̅y̵̝̖̆̂̈́̆̀ͅ ͐́ͫç̫̖̦̫͈̯̗͌͂a̞̳̦͎̫̿̀ͬͣ̆ͩ͞ͅs̗͢t̝̳̲̱͉̩̋̒̋ͦͦ͂̊̕l̖̙̗̱͔͕͙͋ͯ͒e̤̓ͬͬ̈́̕,” an echo of dark voices slithering in unison. “I̯̯̰̳̺͚t̬̜̺̖͚̜̏ͥ̎̚ ̳̦̜̪͙̉̑̉ͅi̞̳͇͋̉ͧͧ͛͊̚s̱̫̐̋ ̦̋͆ͪ͋̽i̾ͥnt̳͓̻͍̪̿͛͌̋̂͋̚ē̦͉͚͉̓ͧ͋r̋̊̋̏̅͋͊e̜ͧ̎́͌ͥ̊s͚͉̙̻̱͚͎͑͊̚t͚̭̩̤ͪͬ̇̌i͍̪͕̙̐ͥ̏n̥͗̋ͬͧͣ̿g̦̣̹͖̜͚̪ͬ̇ ̱̱̱̜̪͍̇̈́͗ͨ̽t̥̎͊̅͛̅ȏ̤̪̟͕̒ͦ̊ ̯̤̮͍͕͈͆ͤ̓f͎͇͙͉̤̹̉̓̓i̪̎͂n̘̮̫̻͔̗̗̎d͚̙̭̗̤̣̠ ̬̫̞̗̫ͪͮ͂y̪͚͙̦̣͓̤͊͑ͧ̽̋͐o̱̩͚̊͂̍̋ͮ̉͋u͈̰̹̬̙̿͊ͅ ̻̜̰̤͖̍s̮͈͚̣͍̓ͥͮ̀͛͛ͥȋ͉͔ͥͫ͊ͨ͐̽t̩̘̲̖͔̣̰͌͒̎͂̆ͮt͍̩̣̞͙̭i̱̹̖̯͇ͨ̏̈́ͧn̳̥̮̺̖͆̔͋ͤ͋͂g̪̭͍̰̼ͪ͋ ̠̙̘̤ͬ̑̃ͦ͐b̰̩ͥ͛e̮͊͛̊f̿ő̎r͂̊e͈̲̗̹̟ ̩͕̖̹̪͋m̉ͣ͒͑e̯ͦͦ̏ͅ.̖̦͈̙͍͓ͤ͊ͨ” Sangue nodded. Indeed, it had been a long time since he spoke to her. She never did wish for him to suddenly find her, however. “…Hello,” she quietly spoke, her scarred eye remaining closed. At her response, a voice sighed, filling the room with a soothing mood. “.͚͈̈́.̪͈̘͗̓ͤ̉͋͋.̹̰͗́ͯ̍̚S͙̠̬̖̪̫̖ó̯̲ͫͣͅm̪̪̥̖ͮ̓̈̊̅e̞̥̩̫̲͍̥͑̍̌ ̮̳̱̖̥͇͆̏ͨt̙̳̣͌̏h͇͇̟͆ͣ̈i̤͚͍̘̪ͧ̋̀́̐̑ͮͅn͇ͩ̏̇g͕͉̜̼̬ͣ͐̈ͬ̄s̞͎̩̯̯̥͍ ̻͖̹ͨ͌̈́ͥn͎̠͚̜ͫ̄̏͗͂e̞͕̳̻ͤͪ͊ͯ͋͒v̀̾̽e̗̟̞͖̮̐̉̐ͥ͊ͣ̓r̭̺͐͛̾͆̽̑ ̔ͦͩ͛c͕̃͋̚ͅh͊̓ͯͭ̎ả̬̪̘̿̋̃̆ň͊ͮg̺̜̮e̩͓̱̬̓,” the voice mused. “A͡s̕ abrupt̡ ás o̵u͞r͝ męet̕i͠ng ͏i͟s, I͘,́ u̵nf͘o̵rtun̨at̕e͞lỳ,͘ ͠lac͞k th͢e time t͠o҉ che̴e̵rf̴ul͏ly ̕r̶e̢p̴lay̕ yoųr̶ ͢o͝l̷d me͟m̵orie̸s̕ įn̡ an ̢en͠d͝ļes̢s l͜oo͟ph̵ol̨e͡.̸ ̵A ͡shamȩ, considerin̨g͡ h̴o̶w ha̷rd ͟I̵ ̵wor͏k̡ed҉ ͡t̴o͘ ̧l͡e̕t͘ ͜this nift͘y tool̸ of̧ mi̵ne͢ ͡to ͘w̨ǫr̶k͢.” Sangue blinked, unfazed by the man who contributed to her lonely life with many things that made her lonelier. She never did like his attitude. “What do you want, Apophis?” At the mentioning of his name, the voice chuckled softly. “H̑̍̃̓ͥ̊ͮm̝̜̞̫̫̠̞?͓͈͙̱͍͂̄̊ͪ̑̾ ͎̫̭̭̈́̂̀͆͒̇̈́Y̯̟̹̤̘̝ͅo͍̪͕̻̹̭͆̿͑͗u̠̻͕̺̝̻̘ͬ̓ ̲͍͕͕̖ͨͫ͋̓͌̄c̫̰͎̰̈̇ͥ̃͊a͓̰͔͓̲͊̅́ͥͯ̃l̉̅̽l̙̟̞̲̳̭͉ͫe̯̮͆ͤ̃̍d̍̀̿̑̉̚ ͉͚͉̟̙̞̰m̌̀͋ë̓͂̉ͩ͊ ͔̯̼̗̻̺͍b͚̯̖͉͉͉͖͐͌̈͗y̲͕̲͕͙̼̰̓͑̀̓̒͂͌ ̚m̽y̘̫̤͒̈́̌̂̅ ̳͔̠͚̅̔ͥ̂͌ͣͅͅn̞͇̖͓͈͈a̟͈̗̱̖m̤̺̪ͧ̾̍ͩė̜͓ͯ̔̐ͧ͌̚!̗̎ͮ̐ ̥̳͎̗̲̓ͧͦ̃A̼͈͂ͥ̂̒͆̋̓ͅh̻̼̟̥̫̟̃ͫ,̿̈ͦͥ̿̄͐ ̹̖̗ͣ͗ͭ̽̚h͖̻͈̱̘̪ͦͩ̓ͬa̝̹̥͚̼͎̓̽̔ͤ ̯͖͓̜̥̮h͙a͚̓̾͋͋ ̼̳̗̭̺ͫh͖̣̣͓̃ͥ̂a̤͈ͪ͌!͔̲ͪ̾͊ͯͨͮ “H̫̬̫̮͖̪̩͑̈̐̅a̫̱̩̜̦͔̻ ̠͚̰̂̉h͓̙̙̃͗̓͂ͥa̹̯͈ͭ̇.͖͎̣̩̤̽ͮ̑́.̻̰̜̼̙̯ͅ.͚̦̖̳̝͖̰̍ “.͆̅ͬ̍̋.̫̞͕̄̋͂ͥ̿.͚̪̭̳͌ͪh̟̱͇͉͉̖ͣả̙̺͍̹̣̐ͤ.̳̝͓ͮ̎͑.̤͇̦͖͔ͣ̒.̮̎ “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “… “…

"A͖̞̬͇͖̍͐̆̀̔̂H̻ͥ̕,͌͆̎̐ͯ ͋̔Ḧ͊͟A͇̳̣̠̎́H͚͙̝͍̓ͬ͗̄Aͯ̌̍ͫ̄͒Ḫ̰͔A̰͉̞̟H̟̺̘̬̹̜̦̃ͩ̆͗́͛̌Ȃ̗̻̾̿͆ͯͯ́̚H̻̪ͨ͑̆̂̄̆ͫAͨ̽̋̊̆ͤ̀H̦Ạ̶̲͖H̫͚̱̭͕́Ả̞̞͇̖͗̔̽H̤͚̻A͆̓̀H̤͙̺͖̟͑̊̒͌͝A̻̫̎ͥ̈́̃̐̆ͪ́ Ạ̶̲͖H̫͚̱̭͕́Ả̞̞͇̖͗̔̽H̤͚̻A͆̓̀H̤͙̺͖̟͑̊̒͌͝A̻̫̎ͥ̈́̃̐̆ͪ́ ͍̥͍͇͙̙͂͘ͅH̥͕̞̣̬̍ͭͣA̲͆ͣ̔̿ͧ̍H̦ͯͦ̈́ͫ̏͑A̎̇͒̈́̌ͣ͜Ḣ̼̰̅͒̊Ạ̜͕͎̼͕̀̐́̈ͬ̌̈́͢H̻̱͓A͛̋ͯ͋̔H̶̲͔͕̹̭̝̓͑͋ͨͪͮͩA͔͓̫͕̟̹̾Ȟ̠̜̗̦̣̟̀̍̾̆́̊̕A̺Ḫ̍́ͨ̎̕A͕̰͉̘͙̱̹ͦͨͮ̽͂H̘͇̺̥̞͔̆ͅA̤͇ͭ̈́ͤ̂ͣͅH̬̥̙̼͑̓̉̀ͬ͒A̦̖̩̖̫͑͗̓ ͈̳͓͔̘ͬ̐ͮH͎̬͆͡A̟̤̙̠ͧ͐̊Ḧ̳̮́̄͐̇̎ͪͩÄ͉̪͎̹́̌ͯH͔̤̹̟́A͚͒͊̃ͦ͒́H̴̺̼̟̜̜̬͐̀͂͂͊A̢̪͙̮͔͈͔͋̒̉H͔͙̹̝ͨ̇͆̃ͧ͊̈́͢Á̭̠̩̜̫̮̣͗͐ͤͨͤH̶̞̺͖̭̯̫̆̾A̛͉̲͗͋ͤ̐ͤ͑́H͕͗ͨA̞̻̻͍͊ͣͣ͋ͩ̃́̚H͇̹̬̘̤͍̔ͭͯͦ̈́͆ͨA̘̘̺͖͕̙̣H̄̓̽̐͛ͥA̶͕̎ͥ̈̒͆ ͙̼̇ͨḦ̹͖͇̦͎͕́͆̓ͧA̯͚A̙̤͇̺̠̦͌̕ͅA͌̊̆̏͌҉A͉͐̃̈́̃̒A̳͍̝̞̗̒̑͊͐̈̋̏H̟͚̭̜̆ͥ̓̒̓̚A̽ͤ̏̋͊Â͓̗͈̪H͎̆̽͆ͯ̌ͤ̾͘A̢̯̝̬͐̌A͚͛͋͋̎Ả̈͐̽̾̅!̆̑ͧ͆̊!ͩͬͨ̇̚͏̠̹̜̝̹͚!̤͎͙̫̞̪̤̽ͭ͊̂͐̒!̲̠̖͇͕͓͖͌!̗̘̃̋

. . The natures of some people were unforgivable. Some were able to atone for sins through painstaking work, but some simply cared about committing more and more sins. A twisted addiction to the psychological sense of danger, so to speak. Apophis was an unforgivable monster who did the unspeakable, knew of the unspeakable, and spoke of the unspeakable. His very existence burned down many of those she knew of. He existed only when he felt like existing, and everything he said had, so far, come true. The great irony came from that he knew truth better than any sage would ever be able to know. He was the bane of lies, waiting to strike when despair overwhelmed his subjects. Sangue remembered him. He wore the skin of those he slaughtered, covering his entire body with bloody and rotting flesh. His loose skin gave way to his hollow eyes, two pupils of red being the only signs of life within him. Evil incarnate, destructive mastermind; the beast known as Apophis knew little about being dishonest and knew everything about everyone. Everyone feared him. Even gods would. “AGHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHAH HAH HA HAHAHA- OH, THE PITY I FEEL! OH MY GOD, THIS EUPHORIA! THIS JOY I FEEL: ALL FROM ME FINDING YOU ON A LITTLE CHILD'S GIRL SCOUT TRIP!” Sangue’s open eye squinted. The laughter of Apophis, a Deity of Chaos, died down, silence entering the room. To endlessly spread sorrow was his dream. Or perhaps there was more behind his actions? Even after fighting for her life against him, Sangue still knew little about the flesh-wearing man. “…The things I could possibly do with your body,” he whispered with an innocently monstrous voice filled with pleasure as the echos that followed his voice fell silent. “You will fit me well- just like your sisters did.” At this, the red-haired woman took her blade out before stabbing it into the white void. The mentioning of her sisters made her tremble. “They,” Apophis explained as if he committed the least amount of sins one could possibly cause, “were beautiful like you. You are the only one among your parents’ offspring to never experience the one passion I could not help but indulge myself with.” A cold snicker, a cold sweat. Sangue felt nervous as the man rambled on about something she wanted to receive forgiveness for. With a giddy tone, Apophis boldly proclaimed, “A dream that I can share with every single one of your world’s people! The thought of seeing those students cry with pleasure as they get relentlessly ravished inside-out… pleases me. The thought of splitting those who have yet to live life in ugly halves… glorifies me. Oh! OH! GEH HEHE! Oh… The thought of decorating the leader of humanity with the eyes I have collected as I nail him on a cross, sharing tales of how I gouged the eyes of virgins, and children, and men and women and the innocent and even YOU! But you…” The voice fell silent. Sangue felt her grip on her blade tighten, her unscarred eye wide open as she felt her breaths become short and heavy. Cold sweat trickled down her cheek. “…You lost ONE eye… and not the other…” The red-haired woman stood, but the voice pitied her inability to do anything. “You lost your arm to a pathetic Grimm. You lost your eye to me. You lose; all you do is lose, and you will be the sore loser in the end of my war with all that exists in Remnant, Sangue Naga. I am not a god, yet I spread more fear than one. I ravage the innocent within their dreams… and make all of it a reality.” "If you just die, misery will no longer follow you, young one. "Die as soon as possible, Sangue Naga. Die...diediediediedie...hehe..." Turning around in a familiar and hopeless fear that filled her heart with dread for her entire life, Sangue turned, gritting her teeth as the white void slowly turned black.

Blood rolled down her head. The woman looked up, only to feel fright enter her as dozens of large, open eyeballs hovered over her from the pitch-black ceiling, watching her with bleeding tears. She opened her mouth to scream at the sight of the white and blood-red eyes, all of which poured crimson liquids as if they were wine bottles filling an endlessly large cup. The blood carried her away, and she found herself swimming helplessly in a violent river of blood. The limbs of all she and Apophis had slain stuck out of the river unnaturally. So many children stared at her with empty eyes, their brains having turned into faces of Apophis, and their mouths stretched into unnatural and horrifying smiles. She saw her sisters, whose breasts had been sliced off of their bodies, as they reached out to embrace her, empty eyes of white morphing into rotten, shriveled chunks of black, their skin beyond recognizable conditions. No matter how much she screamed, the flow of the river never ended. The nightmare was a reality. The reality was a nightmare. No matter how much she fought, no matter how much she tried to live, there would always be something out there to end her dreams. No dream came without a nightmare to haunt it. And if Apophis was not the nightmare that haunted her, she did not know what could possibly bring her to the pinnacle of chaos and insanity. Death at every corner. All of them caused by her mistakes, and all of them caused by Apophis, who killed them because of her mistakes. And all of the people who lost their dreams sobbed uncontrollably in the river as their guts painted the river redder and redder. The empty eyes, the bleeding eyes in the skies, the eyes that floated within the river, every single one of them watching her. The Eye of Apophis was rivaled by none. He knew everything, and Sangue realized that he actually had the power to learn about anything. Murder, rape, greed, lust, anger, and satisfaction: she saw all of it reflecting off of the crimson river that refused to stop flowing. She screamed as she clutched her head, her entire body painted in red as she fell into a state of horror and realization. No one wanted to hope in a monster, and she would never be able to hope ever again. For Apophis knew all, and he would soon consume the world.

________________________________

Sangue screamed as she bolted up from the ground, shivering uncontrollably as her lips quivered. No longer did a river of red surround her, but a heart-wrenching pain swirled within her. She knew what she just witnessed was real. Knowing the power of the frightening creature simply referred to as “Apophis,” she knew that all of the blood and death she was reminded of was true. Everything Apophis said was true. She was pitiful to hope for redemption. Her entire life was just a mere plaything to a psychotic monster, who manipulated her into sacrificing many lives for nothing good. She felt darkness surround her as she reached for her blade, only to find that it was missing. Her unscarred eye wide open, she reached for her Claw instead, hastily wrenching it away from its retracted state as she stared at it with a trembling hand. Without any hesitation, she threw the Claw to her head. … … … … … … … … … … … … … … “HEY!” The red-haired girl frantically dropped the Claw, huddling herself into a fetal position as she lay still. “…” “…” Sangue felt a warm hand brush past the back of her head. With a soothing warmth somehow calming her down ever-so-slowly, the hand then lifted Sangue up from her pathetic state, letting her sit hunched over. Her unscarred eye trailed up to the man who kneeled in front of her. “…? You’re…” “Hm? Whatcha say?” The red-haired woman remembered him. He wore a black jacket, dark baggy pants, and an old hat with a sharp design to it. Donning a pair of sunglasses, the pale-blue haired man raised an eyebrow before grinning widely. “I’ll point out that you were bawlin’ like a baby when I found you,” the man said with an expression filled with cockiness and energy. Mithril Linseis: successful adventurer who was in charge of multiple corporations. He was not the strongest man to exist, but his cleverness and intelligence allowed him to succeed financially. Sangue first met him when she was in need of shelter that could accept her for just a short amount of time. She had no money, and only Linseis, who lived in a large mansion, decided to take her in with the same expression he now gave Sangue. He was an interesting man. Mithril’s mansion was filled to the brim with maids, all of whom he dubbed “The Sexies of Linsexy.” His cockiness knew no limits, yet he knew how to control it when serious times called for it. She learned that he was a strong-hearted man who care little for rules and only desired to live a life filled with women praising him and men aspiring to be like him. While his dream was childish, he certainly seemed like he could make it come true. After all, he was a master at being persuasive. Mithril was, in fact, Sangue’s first friend after she lost everything. Despite being a woman, Sangue was treated like a friend. He seemed to understand that she was under dire circumstances, as his speculating eyes apparently recognized her sorrowful mood almost instantly. It was only until she slowly hardened her heart that he began to show his true personality to her. He made her laugh at times, even if he did not know that he actually warmed her troubled soul at times. He made her laugh even after he found her breaking down after meeting Apophis for the first time. “…Mithril,” she whispered, staring at the man with a flabbergasted look. “How did-“ The man shrugged, his sharp and thin ponytail swinging around as he shook his head vigorously. “Man, you reaaaaaaaaally freaked me out earlier! I found you twitching on the ground right around my backyard.” “…That entire forest filled with Grimm was your backyard?” “Yup- wait, what the hell? I don’t remember owning a forest.” The red-haired woman stared at Linseis, who looked into blankly at the air before turning back to her. “Okay, I honestly don’t know how I ended up walking around a forest thinking it was my backyard, but whatever! The important thing is that I helped you. Right…? Unless I was disturbing you in your extremely crazy spaz-outs during your sleep?” She did not know what to say. Did she feel relief? No, she could not feel relief. Sangue was too far away from the path of being human. Only beasts did not feel relief. But… she still felt a warm emotion tingling in her heart. The sight of Mithril somehow brightened her day almost instantly. “I had a nightmare,” she stated bluntly. “No shit,” Linseis answered back with an equal amount of bluntness. “…” The man raised an eyebrow when Sangue lowered her head. She let out a small sigh before looking back up to him. Even… if she was destined to die, and even if she was never to be able to hope on someone else… She still felt the guilty desire to be human again. “…Thank you, Mithril.” The sunglasses-wearing man opened his mouth to say something, his eyebrow raised, as he tilted his head. He was then interrupted by a maid who entered the room Sangue sat in. “Mr. Linseis? Your tea is ready-“

”OH MY GOD YOU’RE WEARING A CHINA DRESS! AWWWWWWWW YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!-“

As Mithril stood up to take a bunch of pictures of the startled maid, Sangue blinked at the sight of him rolling around the place with an outdated device. She smiled, wondering if she was allowed to live with such people before she would eventually meet her end.

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