Riven Wight

The Collector (2) [Closed]

Struggling to keep her breaths steady, the sound of Walter hyperventilating doing little to help stave off her own fear of drowning, a couple tendrils of shadows rose from beneath her feet and wrapped around her legs, as if trying to escape the quickly rising water. She leaned against the side of the bookcase as Conna’Cel rose with his wings, and looked to him when he neared, glancing almost enviously at his ability to currently stay above the rising liquid.
“I-I think there might be a passage behind here,” she explained, not taking his offered hand. She nodded toward one of the feathers still stuck and twitching slightly against where the shelf met the wall. “Help me move it? Please?”
When they managed to move it, the water eagerly flowed through the new opening, trying to force her and Conna’Cel inside with it. She gasped when the tug of the mysterious air current swept from the now gaping mouth in the wall and worked together with the water at her feet to pull her and the robot inside. She gripped onto the edge of the bookcase, using it to help pull herself out of the way of the opening.

---

Nikolai gave a frustrated snort when his efforts at prying it off seemed to do little. He glanced down as, with the water still rising, Soren stepped onto the bottom rung of the ladder.
“I told you that you shouldn’t be skipping weight lifting,” Soren said. “Bad form.”
And if you had listened to me back in town, we wouldn’t even be in this mess! Though bitter, anxiety of their situation saturated his mental voice.
“As great as pointing fingers, how about--” Soren’s attention snapped to Scarlet, and Nikolai pulled back in surprise when the woman threw a dagger into the portrait.
The silent fae cast her a glare, but still said nothing. Noticing the slowed flow cascading from the picture, he held the crowbar in front of him. The prongs thinned and shortened slightly, Hemmingway’s face distorting beyond recognition as it pulled into a trident shape. Looking back to the portrait, Nikolai stepped to the top rung, and thrust the three sharp points into the picture near Scarlet’s knife. He released the trident and drew back quickly in case the portrait did not much like being stabbed.

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

For the most part, yeah. :-) How about on your end? Any plans? Traditions?

The Collector (2) [Closed]

Sorry! I know I'm overdo for a post here. I'll try to get something up tomorrow... er, later today!

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Ah! Sorry. Long post again, and an information download one, to boot. Let me know if you want me to go in and edit so you have more wiggle room with Ghent during that info download. I got a bit carried away (surprise, surprise). Oh, and if you’re okay that I named Frank’s book shop... I don’t recall you giving it a name, so just threw something in there. It’s an easy fix if you wanted something else!

I so enjoy when it happens that way. The surprises in characters and plot is one aspect that makes me love writing and roleplaying! I like that he clashes that much. In both cases, it leaves room for character development in both of them, if I play my girl right. Take your time on rewriting the profile. There’s no hurry!

Any time, my friend!

I bet! Sounds like a great plan to me.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

“She is a topic to be discussed in detail within closed walls,” Drust answered unhelpfully, the malice in his voice making Elayra look to him uneasily. He gave a content nod at Ghent winning the fight. “Good… Fighting, not allowed?” he scoffed. “Have they no classes in the schools here to teach such subjects?”
The two seemed to tense further as they entered the alleyways, most sporting lights and others bathed in the night. Elayra found herself inching a bit closer to Drust when the darkness surrounded them. The dark was one of the few things she hated more than cats.
When they stopped at a door, its color just discernible in the shadows, the two Wonderlanders scanned the alleyway as Ghent brandished a key and explained what a shrink was. Drust reached up and gripped the hilt of his Katana, his gaze diligently scanning the alleyway.
Elayra and Drust waited a moment before light pooled through the open door into the alleyway.
Elayra sighed heavily, glad to have more light. The two turned and followed Ghent inside. They looked around at the shelves and boxes, ever cautious, but noticed nothing exceptionally odd or out of place as Ghent closed the door behind him.
“This will do.” Drust nodded, then removed his hood.
Glad for the chance to rest, Elayra went to the back wall, placed her pack and bow on the floor, then sunk beside her possessions, her sword and quiver clicking against the flooring as she adjusted them. Settled, she leaned her back against the boxes, her well-worn and dusty boots sticking out of the bottom of her dress.
Drust remained by the door, leaning against the wall beside it. Finally in good lighting, he looked Ghent over.
“I shall start at the beginning,” he began, his hard gaze still on Ghent. Should the boy speak, Drust would raise a hand to silence him. “I’m sure you have many questions. But it’s in your best interest to not interrupt.”
“Trust him on that one.” Elayra watched her guardian carefully, debating on if she should get up so there was less space she would have to cross if the Curse flared up.
“What did I just say?” Drust hissed, glaring threateningly at her interruption, the black, webbed lines near his eyes pulsing slightly.
She raised her hands beside her in a mix of an apology and surrender.
With no little effort, he snorted, took a breath, then looked back to Ghent. “A little over fourteen years ago, Wonderland lived in a time of peace and prosperity. The White Queen ruled over most of the land, with your father, Hatter Madrail, at her side. But there was an evil not even the Oracles foresaw.” His voice and face darkened.
Elayra pulled her feet toward her, prepared to intercede, though her tired body begged her to stay where she was. But her precautions yet proved unnecessary.
Drust leaned against the wall and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, disgust and hatred in his voice as he continued. “A power known as the Red Sorceress rose from nowhere. How she escaped her prison remains a mystery, but escape she did. Her attack on Wonderland came swiftly. The White Queen and Madrail knew it was only a matter of time before she and her followers would come for the heart of Wonderland: the Queen and Heart Castle.
“They immediately began to make preparations to fend her off and secure Wonderland’s future. But she attacked before they were completed. Even with the White Queen, Madrail, and the Tweedles on our side, the Sorceress infiltrated the castle. Fearing they couldn’t defeat her, they tasked me with getting two young residents of the castle to safety: Elayra, and you.”
Drust looked to the corner of the room, and took another deep breath, his neck twitching. “I was to bring you both to Earth, to teach and train you until you were ready to return to Wonderland and reclaim it from the Sorceress. We made it to Harrow Hollow Hill, but as soon as you had jumped into the portal, we were ambushed.” His head twitched again, and Elayra got to her feet.
Drust spared her only a quick glance. “Some of the Sorceress’ higher-ranked scouts had managed to follow us,” he continued bitterly, his eyes narrowing a fraction and hands clenching. “They cut us off from the portal. There were too many of them, and I couldn’t risk them getting Elayra. At that time, the portals were strong enough to prevent the likes of them from entering, so with you presumably safe, we fled. I had planned on returning once the scouts were gone, but the Sorceress enacted the Curse before we could.” An angered snarl pulled at Drust’s nose and mouth, his head twitching yet again.
“The Curse turned Wonderland into a wasteland,” Elayra picked up the story, her voice slow and cautious, her eyes locking with Drust’s.
He looked ready to snap at her, but apparently thought better of it. He pushed forcefully from the wall, making Elayra reach for her sword, but he strode to the opposite side of the storeroom with heavy steps.
Glad her guardian had had sense enough to distance himself, she angled her body so both he and Ghent were in her sight.
“Among other things, it closed off the portals, and turned even docile creatures into bloodthirsty monsters. There was no way we could get to you. But at least we’re all alive,” she directed the last more toward Drust than Ghent. “So, that’s pretty much it,” she finished with a shrug, as if they had simply told him a bedtime story, not a vital snippet of the past. “Jumping to this morning, Drust found out the portal to Earth’s opened for a time, we came to find you, and now here we are.”
She looked fully to Ghent, watching and waiting for his reaction to it all.

Schooled in Magic

Tee hee, "bud." ^.^

I know! Excited? Have any plans for the holiday?

And awesome sauce.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra trailed just beside and slightly behind Ghent as they headed toward the well-lit sidewalk, Drust just behind her towering over the teenagers. She glanced to the shadows cowering behind the streetlights, questioning Ghent’s choice of traveling in plain sight, but the boy knew this world far better than her; if he thought it best to travel beneath the light, then it was potentially wiser to trust his instincts on the matter. After all, even the lighting here was of a foreign creation.
When they reached the pools of artificial light, Drust pulled the hood back over his head as Ghent inquired about their weapons.
“Ninjas?” Elayra asked, unfamiliar with the term. She shook her head, and instead answered his first question, a hand resting on the hilt of her saber. “Have you a better way of hunting or defending yourself, if not with weapons?”
Though ever conscious of Ghent’s gaze on her and Drust, Elayra constantly scanned their surroundings. Her grip on the sword hilt tightened with every unusual sound, Drust flinching and twitching behind her as he, too, watched for trouble lurking in the darkness beyond the streetlights.
She snorted when Ghent pointed out their paranoia. “I’d call it more a method to survival.”
“Look around, not a soul in sight. We can talk on the way, if you want.”
“The things you see and the things that are, are not always one in the same,” Drust offered stiffly. “We can talk. But about what should be limited in the open. She would have had plenty of time to send any number of scouts here by now,” he finished, his tone dangerously dark.
Elayra quickly turned to look at him better, trying to see his eyes beneath his hood. “That’s not your fault, Drust. And even if she has sent any,” she followed Drust’s lead of not saying the Sorceress’ title. A malicious smile perked up a corner of the girl’s lips and glittered in her gray eyes as she continued, “they’ll be nothing but stains on the ground by the time we’re done with them.”
“And to think, I was worried you lacked confidence in your abilities.” Drust gave an exasperated sigh. “Don’t get cocky.”
Fairly confident Drust was okay for the time being, Elayra looked to Ghent when he spoke again.
“I mean. I used to dream of you.”
Elayra’s brows rose in mild amusement, the expression intensifying as he stuttered to explain himself.
“What’s a shrink?” she asked as Ghent glanced to Drust.
“You were detained for fighting, then,” Drust said, a mix of relief and disapproval in his voice. “Interesting. Were you proven the better combatant?”

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Anora remained equally as motionless as Pahn, her intense stare ever honed on him. Part of her did not want to know the answer, feared it, even--after all, if he could destroy a city in only a couple minutes, there was no telling how quickly the earth could fall to him if he turned against it--but the other part of her wanted, needed to know. If there was someone, something out there seeking to destroy her home and, by extension, the people she loved, she felt it more than just her duty to do something about it, whether that meant helping or hindering the impossible being sitting before her.
When he did answer the question, she slowly let out a breath she had not realized she held. Though he might not be out to save it, at least he did not intend on destroying it. Yet, anyway.
She eyed him for a moment when his posture shifted regally, a king ready to lead an army into battle against an enemy.
“Who’s Preph…” she began, but her question faltered as, for the second time that day, a vision consumed her mind like a waking dream or an all-consuming memory.
Much like her dreams, it felt real, as if what she saw was a long-forgotten recollection recreating itself before her eyes. The vines pulsating with changing light kept her attention for only a short moment before the man engulfed in a silvery aura gained her focus.
Pahn, she thought, watching him and wondering where they were. Had he perhaps transported the both of them somewhere, or was this all in her head?
She took a slight step forward when she heard his voice, an action that felt like the first movement in the strange room in hours. To her dismay, though she stood a bit closer now, his words grew faint then fell into silence. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but darkness consumed coffin, vines, and Pahn in a single slow bite.
When the world returned around her, she was once more greeted with the familiar scent of Italian food and spices, and the sound of mumbled conversations from other occupied tables.
Anora inhaled, confused, as she glanced around, one hand tightly gripping the edge of the table and the other rising to rub at her temple. But she had only a short moment to dwell on the unexpected vision before her chest grew heavy and the atmosphere thickened with a familiar power.
Her attention snapped to Pahn, the flame between them flickering mysteriously and casting eerie light and shadows over his face. Her eyes widened, and panic flooded through her at the thought of what might happen if he did not get a hold of himself.
“Pahn!” she breathed, reaching forward and placing a hand on the table between them, trying to snap him out of the anger that had consumed him.
She startled back and drew her hand away when he moved and slapped both hands to his face, a streak of misty purple riddled with with electric gold unintentionally trailing with her fingers and making her own eyes glow. She did not bother to banish it as it swirled around her hand, ready for use, until the power rolling from him vanished as quickly as it had begun. She watched him rub his face, adding the topic of Prephlin to a list of topics best not brought up with Pahn in a public place.
“What other questions do you have?”
This time, it was Anora’s turn to pause. She bit her lower lip for a moment, the desire to ask about the creature that had upset Pahn overwhelming, but one she dared not try to satisfy with others around.
“Did you… I just saw…” She took a breath, sure however she phrased it, it would sound ridiculous. “This might sound stupid, but I saw a vision… memory… something of you. On a coffin. In a room made of vines. Was that… did that come from you?” she finished slowly, her uncertainty displayed on her face.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

^.^ So many ways their relationships could go, and mishaps that could occur. >:-)

Yep, yep! Heh, I hear you. I hate when I reuse a word multiple times close to each other! Makes it even worse when there really isn’t another synonym for it. Irks me even more when I use the same word in some form in the same or consecutive sentences, and don’t catch it.

Woo! I can see the indentations.

That’s a very valid excuse, there! Yeash. Stupid finals. GO YOU for getting through them!

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra’s brows rose as Ghent, turning into a bumbling idiot, tripped over the slide and fell. At least he missed the mud puddle this time. She glanced to Drust, questioning him with her gaze if he was sure this boy was related to Hatter, though she unfortunately knew the answer. Drust’s expression was even more unimpressed than hers.
“And I was beginning to worry you didn’t have a plan,” Drust said softly with a snort, sparing Elayra a quick look.
She shrugged, unwilling to admit that, really, she had not had one.
The two shared another look when they picked out being “sent to detention” amidst Ghent’s ramblings, the same questions passing over their faces: were they somehow better known here than the whispers Wonderland knew of the world? Could they be in more danger here than they initially feared?
“They detained you here for speaking of us?” Drust asked slowly as if addressing an ignorant child unaware of a ravenous wolf lurking behind it. “Why? To what purpose?”
Before Ghent had a chance at answering, two brilliant lights swept over the group for a second as a car neared.
With a surprised snarl as two successive honks shattered the night, Elayra nimbly leapt out of reach of the light, simultaneously drawing the saber hanging at her belt as Drust drew his own weapon. The metal of her sword glinted in the light as, realizing Ghent had not had as quick or startled of a reaction, she moved closer to him in the event he needed protecting.
Elayra looked to Ghent as he spoke, Drust lowering his weapon a few inches as the boy stood.
The two watched him hurry to the waiting car, the lights turning his form into a silhouette with a long shadow cast beside it.
Drust reluctantly returned his weapon to its sheath.
Elayra looked to him with only her eyes, her sword lowered but still in hand. “You know we’re doomed, right?”
Drust snorted. “We’ll make do,” he growled, his neck twitching. “If I recall correctly,” he turned back toward the tree where their things waited, and started toward them, “you weren’t the most skilled when I began training you.”
“Because I was a toddler,” she muttered under her breath, not daring to say it so he would hear. At least they had scratched the stress of finding the Madrail boy off the list.
Only to add five more, she thought bitterly, scowling.
She glanced after Drust, hoping he would be okay and praying he would not snap again tonight. Ghent was an unknown variable, a wrench oblivious to what it could do if thrust carelessly into the unstable gears of Drust’s overloaded mental state. And since Ghent could scarcely best the slide, she was certain he would not be capable of holding his own against the White Knight even if the odds were in his favor.
She returned her attention to observing the exchange between Ghent and the woman in the car as well as she could, watching for any signs of trouble. She listened to Drust’s quiet footsteps when they approached just before Ghent turned from the car.
Drust glanced to Elayra’s necklace, its glow fainter with Ghent’s distance. “Let it know you no longer need it.”
“What?” She looked to him.
He nodded to the pendant.
“Oh.” She gripped it with her free hand, the light again intensifying as Ghent grew nearer. She tried concentrating on it without closing her eyes, not wanting to lose even temporary use of any of her senses.
The glow dimmed, then vanished altogether as Ghent rejoined them, now cat-free and the whitest envelope Elayra had ever seen in hand.
She nodded in relief when he offered them his trust. Now they just had to convince him to return with them to Wonderland without scaring him off.
Elayra took her pack and bow from Drust as he handed it to her, sheathed her sword, then put them in their proper place over chest and back.
Drust flipped her dagger in the air, caught it by the tip of the blade, and offered it to her as Ghent stated he knew a place to talk.
“Good.” She placed the dagger in its sheath near her quiver of arrows. “Lead the way, Ghent. We will follow.”