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| Are You Afraid of the Dark?; [P] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sun Nov 2, 2008 8:35 pm (643 Views) | |
| Abigail Abra | Sun Nov 2, 2008 8:35 pm Post #1 |
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Abigail sat in front of a flickering fire, exasperatedly poking the embers with a stick. This Imythess just seemed to be a wide expanse of ruins and forest. She may have been better off staying in Minya Amar, even if she would never be able to acquire work. “Curse that demon-tongued woman! I had no idea it was her suitor, and nothing even happened! And curse that Captain who claimed he didn’t know Taras was just a city of ruins, and then dumping me on that bloody shore!” She picked up a stone and threw it as hard as she could toward the lake, satisfied when she heard a splash echoing around the lake’s expanse. She moved a little closer to the fire, its glow the only light fighting back the dark night. |
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| Yulth | Sun Nov 2, 2008 8:51 pm Post #2 |
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Without warning, a small object buried itself lightly into the dirt next to the campfire, easily within view. It was a stone, wet and partially covered in a dark slime. It began to hiss quietly as a small pile of ember beneath the stone tried to burn its way through the muck. The smell was reminiscent of typical pond moss. Could it be the same stone that just spashed into the lake? A twig snapped out toward the lake. A figure was visible only because it was blocking an otherwise star-smeared sky. The moon, present only as a sliver, seemed to mock as it revealed no further details. "What then shall we do with this, hmm? Best not to be wasteful when there is so much," the slow, almost rasping voice said with a pause, "need." Almost too well timed to be coincidental, the fire cracked and sent up a small plume of sparks. They danced in the air and sought the sky, blinking out before ever reaching their destination. Still, no new hints to the identity of the silhouette. |
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| Abigail Abra | Sun Nov 2, 2008 9:08 pm Post #3 |
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Abigail jumped and let out a small squeal, as the hiss of steam filled her ears. She clambered to her feet, and her heart seemed to want to break free from the confines of her chest, as her quiet, rapid breathing could be heard underneath the dying hissing of the damp stone. Her hand still griped tightly onto the stick, as if it would protect her somehow. “Great weapon of choice Abigail. Her thoughts whispered sarcastically at her, even through the blanket of fear. Her eyes darted toward the sound of the snapping twig, the way a deer’s head would to any sudden noise. Fear began to mix with anger. Who did this person think they were, sneaking up on her camp? Abigail jumped again when the fire light out an uncharacteristic crack. "Get a hold of yourself girl." Her thoughts warned. Abigail retorted, her voice shaky, “I don’t know what need you are talking about, except maybe the need to scare the wits out of people in the middle of the woods in the dead of night!” |
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| Yulth | Sun Nov 2, 2008 9:34 pm Post #4 |
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A dimly amused chuckle preceded a reply. The voice agreed, "Yes, there is that need." The shadowed figure seemed to melt away. The stars returned to their rightful place in the sky and the fire continued to mingle with the night air. The bushes seemed to rustle with the wind. One bush let out is crackled chorus longer than the rest. The voice had moved and continued, "There is the need for the night air to chill the bone. There is the need for fire to compete with that same air to ignite the soul." Almost as fast as the last word had faded, the stick felt different. A boney hand gripped the top of the shed bit of tree, a hand belonging to a towering shoulder. The silhouette was clear enough now to make out a height. It was at least eight feet tall. The details were not without a cost. Somehow, the owner of the rasping voice had appeared silently and suddenly next to Abigail. The presence of a sickly, unholy aura could be clearly felt now. The figure was wearing a thick robe, unwashed and smeared with what smelled like old blood and decay. |
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| Abigail Abra | Sun Nov 2, 2008 9:58 pm Post #5 |
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Abigail’s head tried to follow the sound of the raspy voice that seemed to be circling her camp, like a predator would stalk its prey. He was laughing at her! “There is the need for fire to compete with that same air to ignite the soul…” His words echoed in Abigail's mind. "My need is that the fire is to ignite your cloak!” Abigail’s thoughts retorted sarcastically and angrily. A hushed scream escaped Abigail’s lips, as the tall man appeared at her side, holding on to her stick! She let go of the piece of branch, slowly walking backwards, her head cocked back, trying to gain a view of the hooded figure’s face. Her small, barely five foot frame seemed fragile and delicate next to the eight foot stranger. She found her back pressed against the trunk of a willow, and her nose wrinkled at the unpleasant odour of burning moss, blood and decay. She took a deep breath, and she asked, “And what is your need? Besides frightening me.” Her emotions kept flitting between anger and fear. Fear seemed to be winning. |
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| Yulth | Sun Nov 2, 2008 10:16 pm Post #6 |
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The creature smiled behind the shadow of his hood. It was a smile unseen in the darkness. Perhaps that was for the best; it was a horrifying smile of mischief. The hood seemed unmoved as Abigail backed up toward the tree. Maybe he was not watching her at all. He almost seemed like a statue until the stick dropped lifelessly to the ground with a thump. His hand - clawed, thin, and unnatural - moved slowly behind his back as the rest of his body remained deathly still. A curious tearing sound and then his hand had returned to view, this time holding an old, grotesque looking bag. Two pale fingers with needle-like nails plucked at a sinew string to open the container. He effortlessly plucked out a small, purple gem that seemed to glow independantly of the fire. "My need, my need, need, need, need," rambled the robed figure as he worked to free the gem from its bag, "Perhaps a generous donation of a poor soul?" The previously faint laugh came back with more force. The emphasis of his last sentence made it seem like he had turned that phrase intentionally. |
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| Abigail Abra | Mon Nov 3, 2008 12:00 am Post #7 |
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(OOC: Sorry I took so long, I got absorbed in studying Biochem. ~laughs~) When the low thud of the stick dropping to the ground reached Abigail she jumped, her back and arms scratching against the bark of the willow. She winced in pain, and she could only imagine their red and raw state. She knew she should run, she knew she should try escape. This situation was quickly spiralling out of control, but she was morbidly entranced the by the tall cloaked figure. That terrible and enticing curiosity, of what was going to happen next. She swallowed hard when she heard his words. He was mad, completely insane. Her eyes dropped to the purple gem, and she took a step foward seemingly drawn to its internal glow. She took another small step forward, seemingly not of her own accord. Her mind seemed to be screaming at her, “Stop! No closer! Run you fool girl, run.” But Abigail either ignored its warnings or was unable to heed its advice. Not even she knew which. “… a generous donation… of… a poor soul….” Abigail mumbled, repeating the stranger's words. Suddenly Abigail stood erect, as if suddenly coming to consciousness again. Her brown eyes darkened in anger, she didn’t know what was happening but she didn’t like it. “I think you should leave.” Abigail’s words were surprisingly steady, even though her entire being seemed to be consumed in fear. |
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| Yulth | Mon Nov 3, 2008 3:22 am Post #8 |
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(OOC: No worries, been there, kinda still doing that. How odd, two biochemists RPing together.) "Leave?" resounded a surprised response, cutting into whatever was left of his trailing laugh. The man cocked his head to the side in confusion. A moment of pause brought forward the sheer silence of the forest. The insects had stopped buzzing and chirping. The rustling of birds had ceased. Yulth moved his fingers and the gem to the opening of his hood. The faint purple glow revealed what seemed to be a horrible face for just one moment before it was lost behind sharp teeth. There was a sickening series of crunches as the creature chewed. Each bite sounded as though it were snapping bone rather than mineral. If someone listened close enough, they may have even heard a faint scream. "Why should I leave?" Yulth asked quickly, "Why should I leave when there is so much fun to be had by staying?" As he asked his questions, he bent down and moved his face closer and closer to Abigail. |
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| Abigail Abra | Mon Nov 3, 2008 5:10 am Post #9 |
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(OOC: I have a midterm on Thursday so I'm trying to get myself ready. I wouldn't really call myself a Biochemist, though I find it really interesting. My majors are Biosci and EAS. ~smiles~) A small, satisfied smirk fluttered across Abigail’s lips when the manic laughter trailed into silence. She didn’t enjoy being laughed at, and even though her instincts were screeching that she was in deep, she couldn’t help but feel she had won a small… Well she wasn’t sure what she had won, but she had. Abigail flinched and grimaced as the horrible crunching sound filled the now silent night and she swore she had heard screams, though she had also thought she heard a shell talking to her on the shores of Taras, so she really couldn’t trust her judgement now, could she? She knew within her she couldn’t run from this man. He would be able to catch her, without a sliver of doubt. She forced her feet to remain planted on the ground when the man bent over and moved his face close to hers, she bent her head upwards to meet his gaze, where ever it was hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of blood, and her body began to tremble with fear, but she would not let herself fall apart. She tried to keep her face calm and answered as levelly as she could, but even she could her the quivering in her voice, “Fun for who exactly? Because in all honesty, I am not enjoying myself at all. If I continue to be honest, I think you are the worst visitor I’ve ever had that has barged into my camp!” |
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| Yulth | Mon Nov 3, 2008 5:24 am Post #10 |
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(OOC: It's all good. I double majored in Molecular and Cellular Biology last minute because Biochem was eating my soul. Now I'm in a joint PhD progam between the two deparments and am lucky enough to never have to study biochem ever again.) "Me? My my my my my, me," came another short repeat of words. Yulth remained close to Abigail as he chuckled and let out a sigh. His breath was putrid. "And how many have barged into your camp?" Without leaving half a moment to spare, a talon-like finger swung around and pointed up into Abigail's chin. Yulth continued, "Because I assure you, I can be the least of your worries." A small scorpion, pale but obvious against Yulth's ghostly skin, fled down toward the creature's elbow. His robe had fallen back and revealed his arm. It was long and thin as though it belonged to the undead itself, although unlike his robe, Yulth did not smell particularly like rot. |
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| Abigail Abra | Mon Nov 3, 2008 5:40 am Post #11 |
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Abigail tried not to gag, as the stranger began another one of his insane stuttering sessions. His breath was awful, to put it nicely, and for a second the smell even overwhelmed her fear. She still stood her ground as she answered her voice still shaky, trying as best she could to breathe through her mouth to avoid the stench, “Well, you would be the second one to barge into my camp. The first was a woman, and she was crazy too. Is that what you crazy people do?” She did her best to ignore the claw beneath her chin, but she could not ignore the scorpion that was trailing down the man’s arm. Letting out another screech, she jumped back. She did not understand the presence this man had but it terrified her, her whole body trembled with it, but she was also getting very tired of this song and dance. “What exactly do you want from me! I’m getting very tired of this game. Just tell me what you want.” Abigail wrapped her arms around her body in attempts to stop her body from shaking. |
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| Yulth | Mon Nov 3, 2008 6:06 am Post #12 |
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Yulth ignored her story about the crazy woman. He was more intrigued by how Abigail was handling her fear. He imagined pressing upward and watching the first drops of blood escape from her lips. It would be so easy, so painlessly easy. Of course, there would be plenty of pain. Yulth felt a rare warmth flow through his body as he imagined her pinned to the tree, squirming helplessly as her life faded into the abyss. One more soul for the bag and one step closer. His amusement dried up like a desert well as Abigail indicated that she no longer wanted to play. He had been particularly amused by this mortal, but perhaps he was not destined to find more enjoyment than that of killing her. That was always a chance he was willing to take. After all, death was an inevitablity one way or the other, so who was he to be impatient. "I suppose if you do not want to play this game, I will simply have to introduce you to a new one," Yulth explained with ice on his tongue. "Pity, pity, pity." The last three words were seperated by agonizing pauses. The creature's finger closed back into a loose fist sharply, nicking Abigail's skin just enough in the process to potentially draw a drop of blood. |
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| Abigail Abra | Mon Nov 3, 2008 6:29 am Post #13 |
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Abigail gasped as a slight jolt of pain occurred just under her chin. He had scratched her! She applied pressure with her fingertips to where he had inflicted the small wound, and then held her hand out. Red blood stained her fingertips. Her eyes left her fingertips to the man standing just a few feet away, her eyes flashing this time from brown to black in an instant. She took an aggressive step forward, her body still trembling from a fear she could not control, but anger was rapidly taking precedence. “You’re the one to be pitied! Taking pleasure in my fear, toying with me!” Abigail took another angry step forward, not exactly sure what she could do to the man that towered before her. She sputtered “If I could I would box your ears like a small child!” The wind began to pick up strength, whipping Abigail's burgundy skirts around her ankles and her chestnut hair around her face. She took no notice, and simply glared at the hooded man. |
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| Yulth | Mon Nov 3, 2008 3:16 pm Post #14 |
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Even as Abigail approached him, Yulth made no effort to give her any ground. There was hardly any space between them anymore. Once again, this time with unprecedented conviction, Yulth began to cackle wildly. His voice was a mix of the same rasping that had accompanied the entire conversation, but now it held something more, something unreal. His loose fist rotated and his fingers opened again so that they were pointing toward Abigail's face. Yulth cherished the hint of blood that he had seen on her skin. "Such a pity," came a dark, ominous tone. A faint shift in the air could be felt between Abigail and Yulth's fingertips. Yulth could feel Abigail's life seeping from her and into his palm. He wondered if it would be painful for her. He hoped he would see her scream. Yes, this would be the same game as he had been playing for years, but at least he was becoming quite efficient at it. Recently he had begun to enjoy testing his playmates before they died. It allowed him to savor their cries for mercy that much longer. With his free hand, the one holding the opened sack, he swept back his hood to reveal a ghastly skull. The skin was pulled tight as though he had been buried during a previous life. Worst of all, his fanged smile mocked Abigail and her fate. (OOC: the spell is a quickened Death Knell. It's rather powerful due to Yulth's inherent magical ability, but it should only act to slowly weaken you given how minor the original wound is )
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| Abigail Abra | Tue Nov 4, 2008 4:10 am Post #15 |
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Abigail shivered as the inhuman and venomous sound of the man’s cackling echoed through the silent night again. Gods, she was in trouble. She should have run in the beginning, not that it would have helped. She wasn’t a girl to run anyway. She flinched as he mentioned pity once more, she was tired of hearing him speak of pity. He was obviously that last creature in the world that understood pity. She wrinkled her brow as she watched him open his hand, palm upward. She felt a tension in the air, and suddenly something was very wrong. Her chin and neck began to throb, she clasped her slender fingers around her own throat as if in protection. She started to feel slightly light-headed and stumbled backward and found herself leaning against the trunk of the willow she had been backed up against before. She focused her eyes and she saw that the man had thrown back his hood, smiling coldly at her. She blinked at his corpse-like appearance, and then said hoarsely, “Is your ugly face supposed to scare me? I once saw a man that had his nose cut clean off while falling trees in the woods, looked much worse than you.” She coughed, trying to rid herself of the pain in her neck. Her mind suddenly became clear, this was magic! An unlikely feeling of triumph filled her. In Minya Amar there was no magic, she had often heard stories that drifted through of unbelievable acts occurring, but everyone always shunned them. She had always believed, it had been cause for much torment inflicted by other townsfolk. She coughed again as she glared at the creature before her, “I wouldn’t want to play your game anyway. You don’t play fair, or nicely with others.” Magic. Too bad this might be her first and last encounter with this new development in her perception of reality. |
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