Rockette

The Spirits Within

It's probably riddled with mistakes or something.
But I'm tired.

Don't write on three hours of sleep.

The Spirits Within

---

ｏａｋ ｒｉｄｇｅ; ｔｗｏ ｙｅａｒ ａｇｏ »

You can tell me, he had said.

If only it was as easy to be said; to retell the horrors, to finally let open that which festered in her mind in a toxic sludge, planted and nursed by the serpent and addled with a horrid darkness that seemed much more hellcious and deeper than the Despair which clung to her soul. Magdalena trembled in the depth of fear she felt, how it corded tight in a barb-wired vice around her pale, sweat teared throat and made her wheeze. Her chest cavity fell heavily with the pressure of her ribs suddenly pressing inward with her rapidly increasing inhales, ascending into a panic as she fumbled for some sort of response or explanation to what ailed her.

Her blue eyes drifted skyward, darkening and glimmering with a film of emotion and maladies that sung dark and painful in her heart. Her fingers curled inward, scraping against her scar and she clutched her hands into fists that split open the lesions atop her knuckles - having not donned for combative gear, as usual. Kim had lightly scolded her for it before, sometimes healing her wounds after their spars, but more often than not she declined him every time, just as she would now in all circumstances. There were deeper, darker wounds that she did not want him to see now, to notice with that particular, earth borne warmth of his that she knew rather well. Magdalena clenched her eyes shut, as if to sever the saltine tracks from carving down her pallid cheeks, despite the small trickles that formed to spike her lashes like spears; to stab her eyes, so she couldn't see. A wish and a yearning to be blind made Magdalena's lips part on a soft cry, a very faint score of sound that breathed and raked across her throat as it whispered in the air, so soft that no average being could hear. But Kim would, he who called her Maggie - not Lena.

Does that make me two different people? She wondered silently, finally peeling her lashes back to expose a wrenching agony in those cerulean depths as she allowed her stare to pierce the fierce, eternal glare of her gargantuan companion.

"I can't," she admitted on a murmur, a silent defeat that made her teeth clench in a soft hiss. She suddenly launched her body up, sitting up on her backside and pushing up to the balls of her feet. The rapid moment spurred a pain in her temple and a tremor in her spine as lights flashed and summoned affront in a nauseating rush. She stumbled and her shadow trembled with all the emotion bleeding out of her, spirits wailed in haunting cadences and pulsated harshly with their ruby cores, accelerating with her pounding heart that galloped behind her aching ribs. Magdalena clutched at her head before reining in the shadows around them, the apparitions wavered and slunk across the walls, not bidding to her desire as she shook with such a force it completely wracked her entire frame.

“Lena,” a soft voice warned Magdalena, as if what he was going to do next would frighten her. Slowly, the giant’s fingers lightly touched Magdalena’s cheek. They paused for a moment, when he felt her stiffen under his touch, then continued on until the giant’s hand cupped the porcelain cheek. After he was sure that she had calmed down, the man who was not Kimberly continued, “it’s okay… ‘You’ don’t have to tell me.” The man dark eyes moved towards the ground, to where Magdalena’s shadow was. When his gaze returned to look back at Magdalena’s blues, he smiled weakly, feeling guilty for what he was about to do. “Forgive me,” the giant said to her, then immediately to someone ---possibly something--- else, “show me… please.”

Kim did not smile, that was the first thing that flickered across her panicking mind whilst his touch burned against her pale cheek. Magdalena's eyes widened upon her face, blooming into alarmed sapphires as her shadow suddenly began to flicker, as if forming into something more than her commonplace, empathetic obscurity. It reached out with dark, wavering edges that slunk away from her heels and body and suddenly reached out to Kimberly speaking so softly and gently to her, as if placating a feral creature on the verge of bolting in her hellacious fear. The normally loyal shadow left her for that moment, clinging to Kim in a way of familiarity and trust that wasn't bequeathed to anyone else, as if it was okay to place any and all into this one man. It terrified her, her ebony silhouette bore emotion at a constant, swelling with those around it, but with her own reflection, it bid them to be multiplied and cumbersome - sometimes bleeding from the depth of pain. Magdalena's sallow complexion paled further, her helplessness illustrating in the way her fingers suddenly clutched on Kimberly's gear, as if it grasp her shadow back to her, to keep it from touching him, but her harsh grasp only scorched the fabric in her desperation and her eyes, now sunk with a tell tale despair, flashed up to his face.

What she saw there was not what she anticipated. Instead of a flicker of disgust or repulsion, his expression was one of pure shock, taken back by whichever Empathy proffered from him to see. Magdalena's lips parted on a soft wheeze, a sort of keening worry as her spirits swarmed around the two, creating a film and circumference of black and red: a theatre for the damned and the warrior.

"Kim -"

Her voice sputtered, the usual grace of her vocalization halted by the hurt next, the interchange was slow and dawning, as if realizing that what Empathy put on display was actually real and true. It was fresh in her heart and soul and thick in shame, her fingers immediately jerked back, leaving ebonette mars in the weaves of his gear like obsidian claws of a monster. His sudden anger, raw and frightening made her treads fall back as if she was going to finally flee, her shadow now being the only connection they had; a tunnel of agony and pain and truth and horrible memory. Magdalena fumbled for an explanation, but any words she might have spoken failed to surface, being choked within her breast in bloody, wet gasps as her panic and the events that had happened that very day came back in a rush. She felt hands, claws, eyes, tongues and mouths that bit, tore, poisoned her all over again as Kimberly continued to bore his dark eyes into her very soul; her heart fractures, splinters into pieces of unrecognizable slivers of ice and frozen terror. Her own anger, for letting it happen maybe, made her eyes flash with the vermilion circle around her iris, her occulus now one of fire and shadow; looking into a emotional hell.

Kimberly didn't say anything either, but the converging emotions and expressions across his veneer spoke volumes in the silence between them. Spirits wailed, howled, as if speaking for the both of them. And for what seemed like an eternity, only lasted a minute as Kimberly suddenly stormed away, his treads heavy and full of purpose as he vacated from the arena, but not before he growled out to her: "Come with me."

It was her shadow though that responded, whisking off after him under his bidding, clutching at his curled fist as if truly holding hands with the giant.

Kimberly had no idea what Ghost had done. He didn’t even think that Ghost, a completely fictional individual, was capable of affecting anything in the real world. Yet it just happened. In Kimberly’s eyes, Ghost was just making one of his many attempts to touch and talk to Magdalena ---two things that always ended in the petite woman not noticing--- and succeeded. If that in it self was not an accomplishment, Kimberly’s roommate surprised him even more by communicating with Magdalena’s shadow. Or at least, that what it looked like was happening. Ghost asked Empathy to do something and do something it did, but what it was, Kimberly had not the slightest clue. Kimberly was shut out by whatever was happening: he stood there, helplessly watching Magdalena’s spirits surround the two. Creating their own little world of black and red. Shutting Kimberly out completely. In that moment in time, it felt as though Kimberly was the one that did not truly exist in reality.

The thought frightened him. It frightened him, because if felt… “right.”

Then suddenly, everything happened too fast. The little world shattered around them, leaving Magdalena stunned and Ghost infuriated. Kimberly had never in his entire time living with Ghost had he seen his roommate so furious. Only more questions were generated when Ghost suddenly stomped away. “Come with me.” He ordered to someone, before existing the room, taking Magdalena’s shadow with him.

W-wait! Where are you going!? Kimberly ran after his imaginary friend, but by the time he left the room, Ghost was walking so fast that he had already turned a corner. Hey! Wait up! What’s going on!?

Kimberly’s run quickly turned into a full sprint. Every time he managed to turn the corner, Ghost was even further a way. And every time he caught a glimpse of Ghost, the imaginary man, and the spirits accompanying him, changed. What was first a party of two ---Ghost and Empathy--- grew into a platoon that was composed of nothing but predatory animals, lead none other by Kimberly’s roommate. It was a mob of hunters, tracking down one specific pray. These carnivores did not seek the prey for sustenance, supremacy, or even entertainment: they were looking for their target to bring pain to it; to vent their anger; to seek revenge. An ugly, but powerful emotion that continued to grow as Ghost morphed into something.

The human man with black hair metamorphosed into a great mystical two-legged obsidian beast; a creature that could have jumped directly out of a mythology or fairy tale; something that, if existed, would have been called a demon or, more likely in this day and age, a xenomorph. The mighty beast strode down the halls with undeniable vigor and purpose. His desideratum for what Kimberly could assume was revenge by this point, felt so powerful that it only seemed natural that the obsidian beast caught on fire. The black beast’s fur was now made up of flames that burned ever so intensely. The fire rapidly spread through the ranks of the animals, like an epidemic, making their rage magnify. The fire was fury; passion; vengeance. It was the flames of madness.

The only reason that Kimberly was able to catch up with the hunters at the indoor balcony ----where one could lean on the railing and look down to the facility’s entrance hall on the first floor with ease, regardless of what floor one was actually on--- was because the large group had stopped there, looked down at the people who walked down below. With how many people passed by the beast and his gang on this floor, Kimberly had hoped that this was all just part of another elaborate hallucination he was having. Such hope, however, was quickly shattered the second the beast finally found what he was hunting for on the first floor.

“JUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!!!!” The monster roared in such intensity that the sound waves shook every living being’s bones and broke every glass in the vicinity. Kimberly saw many people make attempts to protect themselves from either the sound, the glass, or both. The only reason why the man called Julian did not do either was because he was still in the middle of the process of turning around to see who it was that yelled his name out so loudly. Kimberly watched the beast of black and orange jump off the 4th floor balcony down towards his target, an enraged mob of animals following suit. The beast flew across the twinkling sea of shattered bits of glass ---fragments that once formed the larger pieces of glass of the main entrance--- in the air, to reach his unsuspecting prey. Julian did not know what hit him next; there was barely enough time for him to even register the fact that something was coming towards him.

Kimberly watched the beast’s foot kiss the mortal man’s face. He paled at the sight of the man’s body spinning in the air from the kick’s impact. No! Fortunately for Julian, the strength of Kimberly’s will summoned the plant spirits to created a soft cushion made up of flowers to less the impact of him slamming into the ground. Unfortunately, it meant that he would be conscious for the next few punches the beast launched at him after the beast straddled the bleeding man. Kimberly knew he had to stop the beast if he wanted to save the defenseless man. The black haired man rushed down a nearby staircase while yelling at the creature to stop what he was doing. But the beast did not listen. Consumed by hate, he could not hear Kimberly. He kept howling at Julian as he continued to punch the man to the brink of death. An odd sensation ceased Kimberly. Although he could only see the flaming beast punching a defenseless person, Kimberly thought he heard Magdalena’s voice in the creature’s roar. The punches, the hot tears, and even the rage that came from the beast, was not purely the product of the beast alone.

But Kimberly still had to stop him. Once Kimberly got to the first floor, he ran straight towards the beast “STOP!” Kimberly ordered. Although none of the animal spirits or the beast did what he commanded, the plant spirit did hear his wish. Vines shot out from the greenery that was available and flung the animal spirits and the beast away from Julian, whom which they quickly made a protective cocoon around. The enraged animal spirits growled at Kimberly for his intrusion while the beast rushed back to where Julian was and angrily ripped out the vines. It was shocking ---amongst the many unbelievable things that happened so far--- that the animal spirits actually displayed opposition towards Kimberly, their Guardian host. He had never heard of that happening before and it was apparently something that the spirits also regretted doing when they realized they were growling at Kimberly. The blazing fire that enveloped them faltered. He tried to command them to stop once again and in some sense, they did, but it was as though they were torn between what Kimberly wanted them to do versus what the mighty beast wanted them to do. So they stood there, completely lost. It was clear that Kimberly would have to stop the beast himself. He launched at the beast and did his best to hold him back. That was when he heard the Calvary arrive.

“Kimberly!” He heard his childhood friends yell before three of them ---Aaron, Fredrick, and Thael--- tackled Kimberly and the beast and pinned both of them down. The beast continued to struggle against them and though Kimberly did nothing to be free of his friends' grasp, they yelled at him to calm down. Fredrick went on to add a string of profanity before finally asking, “what the f*ck is wrong with you!?”

In the chaos that the beast created, Kimberly saw the medical team arrive. Most rushed to the aid of the victims, while the smaller group made preparations to sedate the mad beast. He didn’t know if it was the sight of the shot’s needle or the appearance of Magdalena that made the beast cease all movement, but he finally stopped struggling. As the shadow returned to its owner, the fire fur was extinguished and the black beast returned into the humanoid form that Kimberly could recognize as his roommate. He didn’t have time to see Ghost’s expression or even scold him for what he had done when he heard “Hold him still!” and the sensation of a needle breaking through his skin; of something ---a chemical to sedate him--- being pumped into his blood.

In his fading consciousness, Kimberly saw his fists painted red with the blood of Julian.

What had he done?

What was he about to do?

Was he... Was he about to... murder... someone...?

Watching Kimberly leave, with her shadow in tow, had been one of the hardest experiences that Magdalena would ever come to endure, two years from now she still wouldn't be able to discern the following events, but none the less would it follow her into her dreams. Time from now, so far and bathed in a film of pain of her shame and anguish, Magdalena would never be able to answer why she couldn't move and in that moment, why she felt so alone. Left in the arena and tumbling from the effects of her regret, she had collapsed to the floor and bit her fingers into the mats, scorching them and lining the interwoven stitches with the obsidian claw marks that illustrated her utter despair and frustration. His fury was something she had never seen or experienced, the near deadly and ominous growl had vibrated entirely through her bones and rattled her soul until all she felt was her own anger beginning to boil and ascend. Choking her throat, Magdalena sobbed against the ground and seethed at her heart, felt it pound and beat and shatter, and through all her spirits surging around her they too began to cry. The pain of the hours she had endured in that terrible, dark and horrid room that morning suddenly being unleashed in the heart wrenching cries and wails that tore a bloody, vicious path from her throat until it was raw with the keening sounds of her pain.

She didn't know how long she laid there curled against the floor with her body convulsing so hard that her muscles strained and ached in protest, their aforementioned sparring and excursions now beginning to blend in with the new strain she put onto her self not only psychically, but emotionally as well. But all of this paled and fell to the backdrop as a horrendous roar tore through her mind, it wasn't the ear splitting wail of Chaos or the howling figments of her hounds, but a voice that broke through all the hurt coating over her heart and shattered the frigid glass within it. Magdalena's head shot up from the cradle of her palms, pallid cheeks rouged with her touch and eyes bright and wet with her tears as she stared at the place where Kim had previously been. Though she had never heard it before, she somehow knew it was him and the following emotions that pulsed through her only confirmed it. It was not only her anger and shame but a throbbing need to hurt, to bleed, to reap her own vengeance upon the man who had done this to her - to them.

Her fists are shaking and she doesn't know why and they hurt, beyond the open sores on her knuckles, there is a pounding, pulsating clench that writhes across them every time her fingers curl inward to her palms. She's crying again, but the sadness in these saltine tracks are muddled against the contour of her brow lowering, forming her usually apathetic glamour into a face of wrath. It's not her manic grin of battle gluttony and painful desires, it's a pure, unrestrained fury and she basks in it. Magdalena though can't dismiss the pain banked within it, it's like her shame and regret, but somehow it seems entirely magnified by the terrible hate she feels through it. It doesn't take long for her to realize where it all is coming from and she shoots up to her feet to stumble into a sprint as she follows an invisible trail with her spirits pooling above and around her, as if guiding her along with the crescendo of voices and commotion.

There was shattered glass littered across the walkways, crunching beneath her boots with every ragged step she took to get where the epicenter of the pain was emanating from. People were scattered about in mixtures of fear and awe, having witnessed the very man she was searching for, gesturing wildly whilst calling for assistance from any authority. It was a mad scramble across the cluttered hallways and department, the further she ran - still aching and in pain - the more her heart sunk with a frigid, weighted lead of dread as she came closer to the place of her nightmares and fear. So he had seen it, that was now affirmed as Magdalena was suddenly not the only one sprinting across the glass littered walkways. The Academy's on location security and authority began assembling into formation, geared with Plexiglas shields atop fortified steal and wielding an excessive arsenal of batons and guns meant to stun potential aggressors. She grit her teeth, now jolted into a mad gallop as she tried to make it before them, she leaped over guard rails and dropped down floors with jarring thuds of impact that bid waves of shock up her bones. She bore these pains and panted, forgoing all of her endurance training as emotions bled in and out of her and shadows slunk across the walls in formations of hounds now wailing and howling a call of a hunt. Her own shadow now suddenly gone, only connected by a thread of darkness, gradually began to thicken as she ran, until the two snapped back together in a smack of black and white as she breathed in the empathetic curses it was swollen with. Magdalena's eyes began to weep, not for herself but for the man and what he had done.

There was blood and broken bones and skin peeling away at every pounding, dull smack of impact that made her lashes clench shut and her body to flinch. Every hit was fueled and empowered by the righteous anger burning around him in wavering spirits, conflicted, glowing, willing every infliction but wanting to rein it back. It was such a terrible conflict that Magdalena felt that everything she had ever held and hidden was suddenly being pulled affront from her heart and illustrated by Kimberly - he was an artist, after all was he not. Magdalena's lips gaped wide in a wail though as Julian was beaten to near death, unable to parry against Kimberly's hits. And as soon as she cried out, three saviors came in the figures of their friends. Light, golden and white, flashed across her eyes and made her hiss, turning aside to shield the blinding protection as Thael led the procession in holding Kimberly down. With Aaron's strength and Freddy's harsh vocalizations to bring some sense into him, despite all of his struggles, each managed to pin the sudden beast's intimidating girth. For a moment Magdalena did not see Kimberly, still donned in his gear scorched with her fingers and bloodied by Julian's gaping visage, sweat deluged with his excursions that turned his dark hair black and slick against his skin, but now she saw a beast in ebonette fur, an illusion of one, and roaring with all the power it held and all the pain settled across his shoulders and heart; it wasn't just hers, but his own.

The enforcers rushed on past her with a troupe of medical personals tending to those injured in the fray, from glass shards mostly, but the focal surgeons fell upon Julian whilst security began switching the safety off on their utilized weapons and trained them on Kim's figure prone and held beneath fleshy palms and arms. Magdalena rushed forward, only to be held back by one of the officers in which his combative armouring shielded most of her burning skin, she strained against them, trying to find Kimberly's eyes as one of the medical staff protested against the usage of stunning jolts; claiming that the bolts would push the Guardian into a overkill of shock and that the spirits could go volatile. They mumbled about this particular man and hallucinations but Magdalena knew it was none of that, she knew that this, this carnage, was her fault. She bared teeth and all when they prepped the syringe, the fluids within a peculiar colour of ominous off-white with a scarlet undertone.

When her cerulean depths met his own, black and inflicted, bearing and sheltering a fire within that was not him, but someone else, he seemed to quiet and still. She did not know what exactly she had witnessed and she wouldn't be able to discern it later on her days, becoming transfixed in a peculiar enchantment with a being that was not real but more true in heart than what anyone would know. Magdalena jerked against her restraints, her spirits wailing inside her head as her empathetic shadow began spinning in mad circles, clinging to everyone and the walls and cloaking over Kimberly as they cruelly jabbed the needle into his skin and waited for the lethargic cocktail to sweep through his system by adrenaline paces. Her visage fell and conformed into one of pure elation when she saw Julian's body mangled and ravaged entirely by the beast that Kim had become in those seconds before, undone by his large frame and fists that had been honed and trained into a pure efficiency with hand to hand combat. She knew the powers of those hooks and straight forward lashes with a personal, lustful qualm, now Julian would never be able to forget them. When she tried to break hold once again, the enforcer relinquished her body to Aaron who held her back just as well if not better by the vice grip on her thin shoulders and burning wrists, she didn't attempt though to break free from this imprisonment, lulled by the damage until Kimberly's waning consciousness peered into her soul again. Her aforementioned glee wavered, conflicted only by the evidence that he was going to suffer now for her lack of control on her life, on her heart and the spirits so vengeful inside her soul. Magdalena's brow fell into despair as she watched his rage addled veneer fall into the weakest smile she could imagine, a sort of sorrowful pride that connected the two in that singular moment of blood, pain, and retribution by cruel means.

But this was only the beginning.

The Academy would hardly be able to forget and allow the sudden assault on one of their newest council members, perplexed entirely by the circumstance, it put a whirlwind of inquiries and suspicions upon the rather bloody and one-sided affair. Magdalena had been put into various interrogations over the matter, only able to testify that she had been sparring with Kimberly before the event. She easily glided over the factual memory of her spirits and her shadow having taken on a sentient purpose and had transmitted to Kimberly in that moment: her darkest terror. It was easy to lie and gloss over the truth when your expressions were null and your infamous Guardianship one of apathetic detachment and emotionless masks. Donning one every time she was asked about it, Magdalena had eventually locked herself within her singular dorm, barely leaving unless required otherwise. Even when Olivia had come bustling upon her door, demanding that she come out - they were going to see Kim again, she had said, he was only permitted so many visitations during his isolation. But for a month entirely she had not been able to look upon him once.

Kimberly had been put under an evaluation, the doctors -led by Dr. Perth's knowledge with the patient- had been initially concerned over whether the man's spirits or hallucinations had been the focal point of his psychotic break. Bidden by whatever means, they never made the connection to the BATW official hospitalized for his injuries and severe facial trauma. More speculation led to pondering minds of what Kimberly had against Julian Leonhardt, but the elusive scientist was just as unwilling, or unable to speak of the entire truth behind the savagery. So it went on for a month, being forced into a temporary lock down and monitoring that proved fruitful in evaluation of his spirits, but otherwise did not shed light on the spectrum of whys. Kimberly's state of mind though had been entirely effected by what had he done, hours spent with vacant stares at his hands often trembling with the damage he had done, it had sprouted more concern of his state of mind, but more applied medication had tamed these random spurs of hollow reflection within the man and so he was released upon means of more frequent appointments to keep his psyche in check.

When Julian had finally awoken from a medical induced coma, to allow his injuries to heal, he had been completely silent and withheld, not even willing to press charges against the Guardian, in which he later dismissed as a circumstance of being in the wrong place at the wrong time - not many witnesses would be able to verify that he was deliberately sought out, but even so most had been distracted entirely by the usual stoic giant having expressed so much within so little a time. Julian's willingness into passing over the assault without reservation of persecution led to more inquires and suspicions, as the trio involved seemed to want to forget the entire thing. Oak Ridge had it filed appropriately and tucked away into their histories of unfortunate events but did not preen upon it further when Kimberly had been dismissed from his evaluation. Despite what he had done, he was an asset to their Cause, a weapon that had been cultivated and meant for a greater purpose with those he often affiliated with.

And so those horrid days finally passed and the entire group threw a meager celebration upon his release, Magdalena having been coaxed from her own prison by Emily's persuasion. But the two now interwoven into something they could not undo had merely gazed at the other - of blue and black, of sky and shadow and something akin to regret. A sort of fickle devotion had smothered them both, no words could be spared despite the wealth of things they desired to say, but they were quiet souls, expressions few and far between their eternal extremities. So they did say anything at all, perhaps out of fear of the unknown or what had occurred all together, but Magdalena and Kimberly both would have to bear the nightmares of that day.

But also many more to come when Julian Leonhardt was finally healed.

---

ｆａｌｓｅ ｋｉｎｇｓ»

Peculiar tremors had afflicted the small, pale doll that was Magdalena Abendroth the further they descended into a void unknown and a place unseen. Never having been encumbered by a phobia of the dark before, she still could not alleviate the sensation of frigid truth and malice that had hammered her bones into figures of ice. Her skin permitted a small hiss as her arms coiled about her torso, holding her together in a figurative stance as she followed in small, light paces aside Kimberly. There was something down there, a yawning abyss of reality that threatened to swallow each of them whole. Why Olivia bid them to enter this void was unknown to her, but she could only think upon the stories whispered to her in a past long gone: of a hellacious world where the dead thrived and damned were judged. Perhaps this was their inferno, but was there such a thing as purgatory? Did they even deserve a chance of redemption after the traversing quest of war, what are we fighting for anymore, Magdalena's mind seethed and compressed to a singular thought of placing her treads in a line; one shuffle after another until a smarting coil of her shadow snapped against her spine.

Her body went rigid with a plethora of pain, of yawning shadows that split open their maws and screamed inside her head. Much like with Sophia, the hounds wailed for a soul wrought by untruths and their world, her spirits immediately rose in a tide of writhing darkness when her azure occulus began flickering up, increment by increment did they peer up through lashes until vermilion snakes corded tight around her pupils, constricting her endless, apathetic gaze into one of pure, boiling fire.

The dead don't come back.

This could only be a phantasm of their nightmares, or in the other circumstances, dreams. But this, this was cruel, devious, a sort of awakening that finalized and affirmed all of their doubts before in that office above that seemed leagues away from the now. Magdalena's fingers curled and she could no longer keep in the poison of hate that simmered beneath the surface of her skin in glowing fixtures, illuminating her external membrane when her shadow began to drink off of the emotions of her peers, guzzling down their own shocks, disbelief and their hopes; even love. Despite its' gluttony, her shadow hummed when the bladed projectile whistled on past her jawline, bringing forth a shudder across her body that flinched with the resonating ping as the sudden weapon was deflected by mere musculature flexes. Her mind tumbled with the many and various processes of the situation, transmitting into a translation of lies; lies; lies and more lies.

It was as her father said, so long ago: "There's no truth in the world Maggie."

Her eyes of boiling ebony and hell fire honed in on the constant weave of limbs and figures, of flagging dodges and whistling blows that sliced air rather than making their designated impacts. She inhaled a harsh breath, letting it crush her ribs against her heart as Sam's manic words rocketed and shattered what little belief Magdalena had. Her family had never worshiped the Kami, they never practiced ritual masses and services by whatever decision her father had decided within his own childhood. Something about a curse, a cruel trickery to the children of the constant and wavering Dusk: that borderline of light and dark and setting life.

We're not meant for the light, Maggie, even though a small part of it remains, it's always leaving us. We're descending.

She never understood what Moses has been trying to tell her during those nights when she had sought her way into her twin's bed, lying with him during those evenings because of her soul fracturing loneliness. But now, in some way, she finally got it.

Remi's fall shattered the illusion, focusing her eyes upon his prone figure on that catwalk that bore marks of their battle trance. Her fingers slowly curled upon her smallest chakram, grasping the weapon with meaningful intentions to harm the person she had once deemed her savior from the dark. But he had stolen her from it, and what gratitude she had left paled in comparison to the agony that had come with it all, the catalyst of her eternal nightmares. She pried the pieces apart in practice and time with her strides as she rushed past everyone, spirits screaming, Chaos wailing, a slow simmering magma that pooled in her mouth when she bared her teeth in a simper of false joy.

But her own battle lust and gluttony was overshadowed by a more, desperate hunger that devoured everything in its' the monstrous wake, yawning forward as sounds became muted and her spirits reared back from it, spitting fury, pulsating madly with their ruby cores. Magdalena's step faltered and her split chakram halted in the minuscule spins of the duo pieces upon her fingers, whatever Remiel had unleashed, it was dominant in its need, a festering sort of want that shuttered her manic spirits which waved around in protest, emotionally disturbed by Samuel's presence but addled with a sort of glee as his demise poised above them all.

The Spirits Within

Oh, well now I feel like the bitch for worrying about it!
My long winded PM seems so unnecessary.

But it does have some concerns for other things! Should I go ahead and post, or wait on yours?

The Spirits Within

..Huh, so is there any possible chance for us to get to the Tree of Life then? Or are we just SOL on that part? I ask because if not, it'll damper a few things I've planned for Mags and her sprits and the place in question and then I'll need to rearrange everything in my post.
I've haven't just gone up and went AWOL, I'm just gradually writing, recent events have caused me to not want to but I'm trying what I can and working on the graphics I promised as well.

I'll send a Pm your way, Prisk.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

Damn, it was a good post regardless!

Stefan0620 said
Kylmi will be mad? Aw yeah, character development and growth.

Of course she will! Bad Kyrtaar.

The Spirits Within

-Saves all the pictures-
Got 'em. I'll be able to work on them this following week.

Prisk said
Anyway, I've been thinking about maybe doing a spin-off roleplay set in Oakridge Academy, like a school tv-series thingy, a year or two prior to the events in this roleplay. If this became a thing, would any of you be interested in the idea? I don't know if it will happen, or when, but I can test the waters with you guys, here.

You know I'll probably follow you if you do decide to do this. Sounds interesting enough.

The Spirits Within

Prisk said
That sounds like a lovely idea, Rockette! I'd want a new image of Olivia/Megan for it, though, so I have to find one. Also, if you want more background images to work with, I have a few for you. Lastly, one of the wallpaper-like thingies for Olivia would be cool! With the texts/quotes and everything.

Oh good, more background images will work rather than just the one, I'll have more variety to work with.
Send 'em to me! Once I finish my post for Mags [in which I'm determined to do for this weekend] I'll be able to work on the new banners and Olivia's little wallpaper-like thingy as well.
For the rest of the banners, if you have new character photos for me to use, send them my way or put them here, otherwise I'll decide on my own and whatnot. Probably do another image board to show examples of what "banner styles" I have in mind.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

Steel fist said
@Rockette: Great post! I will post the attack in a short time.

We can collaborate if you want, make it into one thing. Otherwise I'll just follow up.

Nephriel said
I'm still trying to decide what's in the vial... anyone have ideas?

I'm honestly stumped for ideas - could be something entirely beneficial, or something deadly that comes with another price in using it.
Another wish perhaps or a fragment of the forest itself. . . Something.

Stefan0620 said
I was personally thinking he has immortality from disease and natural causes, but won't be immune to actually being killed. Age, I figured he'll still age for a bit, or something. I dunno. I doubt this thread will go on into infinity

Kylmi is going to flip when she sees him and realizes what he has done.

The Spirits Within

Awesome, two votes for the affirmative.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

Kylmi would be lying to admit that she wasn't a little disappointed with the entire discussion of their plan, it would seem that her former concerns over this lauded Queen were dismissed, seemingly placated by Mundhir's supposed glorification of being blessed. However Kylmi did not know his God and could not ascertain his confidence in willingly placing fate into the deity's blessing. It was no different a circumstance in mirroring aspects for the Elven Prince, these two individuals of royal, blue-blooded birth rite surrendered themselves over to some unforeseen higher will. Kylmi glanced up, briefly disturbed by these comparisons and how, once a upon a century, her family too had been swindled and devoted entirely to one God. But he was dead now, a sort of truth that these two would not know, possibly never, but it could not be trusted within the slightest.

Her peridot gaze slid over Hazim and Tarwin both when they spoke respectively; they would have to remain careful of these two, they who supported the overall execution - no slaughter - of these elven peoples. Their plans of interrogation would fall through should they come upon the insane ruler before her and her only other supporters, Frelseren and Shorus. Her grasp within Bone's mane tightened, cinched around the threads as he chuffed and bared teeth at the mortals around them, of course she could only put her trust into true, amazing beasts as they, the others couldn't, would not be trusted. Kylmi nodded silently to her companions and watched as the nomadic warrior ushered his mount into a gallop, veering off to the flank, she bid simple wishes to the nature around them as the grass being trampled beneath their bony hooves stilled and quieted with the cusp of battle ringing their hearts.

Bones and his woodland mount hesitated momentarily, green eyes flashing, resting calmly upon Mundhir before the slight shake of her antler crown bid her away, artfully tarnished stilettos boring into the Kelpie's heaving flanks before they too rode off with a speed unmatched by common equines. They followed upon Tarwin's treads before veering away upon a different course, splitting the procession partially by venturing into the surrounding thickets. Kylmi initially decided that her best usage would be hidden aback from the focal point of their assault, utilizing her powers whilst hiding upon the main line of their offensive unit in the blanket of darkness. The Nymph stilled Bones, dismounted and patted his thick neck as they glanced up towards the over bearing sun, the gleaming star slowly descending as they waited.

---

When the battle sounded, Kylmi's eyes immediately adopted a phosphorous glow, gleaming within moonlight and bearing a silver sheen akin to Bone's stare as they witnessed the beginning ascension of this nearly one-sided confrontation. Forging a temporary bond, the two creatures of exotic, far away lands and myths began to coexist in their glowing eyes, seeing what the other saw and utilizing Bone's keen sight as means to peer far and deep into the encampment. Kylmi's fingers flexed as Mundhir's impressive soldiers began their crawl, she bid the grasses and surrounding flora to become rigid and curl to cloak their precise movements, the thicket around her groaned and bent to smother the gleam of her armour as she initiated her manipulation of the ground and nature around them. She had not done so in such a long time, not in such vast quantities, and cruel intentions marred the plants in bruises and thorns as she lifted her arms and thus started the snaking of vines out from the elaborate knot in her hair, permitting the threads to wave down her frame as they slithered across the ground in serpentine patterns. Trees whispered somewhere in the far beyond, yielding to the stench of magic that was Kylmi's unique signature.

Arrows blotted the sky and Kylmi watched, still not attacking but preparing the wrath of the wood around her with vines crusted in thorns and poisonous flowers that bloomed violet in the moonlight. Bones grew impatient, throwing his head and rattling the bones and reeds woven within and screeching with the call of something feral and hungry, the elves below would know, feel their fury and the will of nature that was old and never forgiving, a merciless pounding galloped away deep inside as the desires of her Fernium blood sung with a haunting melody of vengeance. Her sweltering heart was being swelled with the emotions of fear and pain in the battle below, cloaking over her as she mounted upon Bones once more and descended into battle. She veered through the lines with his agility, weaving between bolstering Mamalukes as they roared with a loyal righteousness of their prince and worships. Kylmi lifted her arm, extended her clawed digits as the tines upon her wrist began to swell and grow, sharpening into a sword forged of ebonette bark that pulsed in tempo with her erratic heart beating betwixt her ribs.

But the two weren't the only ones gifted with a peculiar sight in the night, Bones' stare swung around to the left with Kylmi's as fletching whistled upon a lucky gale of wind, piercing deep and purposely into Kylmi's bare shoulder with a dark shaft protruding from her rounded joint. She jerked with the hit, her lips parting on a screech of agony as another grazed on past her cheek and split the skin to will a tearful track of evergreen blood to leak across her thin jaw. Her silver lined eyes flashed with the impulse of power as vines wreathed around her assailants poising to strike her again, cruelly sealing the two elven warriors in coffins of thorns and poison; venom seeping slow and deadly into their wounds as she clenched her fist and silenced their wails of anguish. She balanced upon Bones' spine for a moment before leaping off, hitting the ground as the Kelpie turned and charged at the enemy exchanging volley with Hazim's retreating procession, his tail whipping and lashing with his agitation and thirst. She ignored the crunch of bone and armour, tried to breathe on past the smells of battle and death permeating the air as she gripped the arrow making her muscles burn with pain. With a cry she tore the shaft free, her blood trickling down to coat across her arm still forged into a nature esque weapon.

Her inexperience with recent battle left her prone to such injury, she knew this would happen and should she survive this, she would have to train hard to ensure that she would even survive long enough to see peace returned to these lands. The Nymph panted around her pain and pressed her palm to the wound, sealing it shut temporarily with a wrap of leaves before she whistled for Bones' and ran across the battlefield. She saw Tarwin, the flash of his red blade the only way she could pinpoint him sneaking in the camp from the exposed rear, she clenched her felidae teeth and searched for her Frelseren, only slightly worried when she couldn't find him among the swathes of elf and man.

Unfortunately there was little time for her, Kylmi ran with Bones, using vines to snare and strangle the elves before them, holstering them as Bones sunk his blunt teeth and fangs into their throats and crushed their incredible frames of height beneath his bleached bone hooves. She did not like killing, that much was evident in the way her eyes would waver with every occurrence a soul bled out with the light of their shining eyes, but she had a point to follow and a plan that was dependent on her part in it. So the Nymph bore her discomfort and continued onward with Bones, the Kelpie using his senses to scope out their path as they soon came upon Shorus. He appeared to be the only one present, but Kylmi was grateful for that small blessing as she flashed a fanged smile and used the thickets around them to keep themselves hidden, more so him and Bones for their gargantuan sizes.

"I saw Tarwin sneaking into the camp," Kylmi muttered, not surprised that the nomad had gone off on his own impulses again. After all he had done the same within the dank underground of the dungeons. "I don't know where Frelseren went but Hazim and the rest are beginning to fall back." She gestured vaguely with her opposite hand not festooned with bark and thorns. "I can use my vines and magic to capture the Mad Prince but I'm going to need you and Bones to protect me," Kylmi uttered, nodding to her Kelpie mount snorting in disdain at the minotaur, baring blunt teeth now stained with elven taint and blood.

"It's not the best plan, but we can capture him at least and try to get what information we can, I don't care what happens after that - let the men have their revenge."