vatheon | Terror under the sea

Entry tags:

Terror under the sea

Who: The Disciple and whoever
Where: The Plaza, The forest, and the path in between.
When: Early morning 3/29
Style: whatever suits your fancy.
Status: Open

Water. She was Wet.

She came to lying down, somehow drenched in saltwater. Blood mingled with seawater, on her hands and face. The Disciple was unable to remember how she got here. She seemed to be in some sort of city. A heavy fear caught in her chest. She shook herself awake to figure out where exactly she was.

"Where...am..." Her voice cracked from disuse.

Her conscious brain began shutting down as her senses were pounded with information. The sights and sounds of this new place, hammered into her mind. Unfamiliar beings were all around her, some even looking at her, in the open. Her mind scrambled for purchase. Worst of all was the scent. With so many...things together in this dome, compounded with the ever-present smell of seawater. Flooded with input, her animal brain took over.

FLEE!

DANGER!

Finally, she caught wind of a familiar scent. Trees; there were trees here. She flung herself after the scent, knocking aside anything in her path. Desperate for survival she attempted back alleys and other paths that didn't reek of these many strange beings.

She fled to the southeast.

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What was the deal with this brownblood. The way it was continuing to carry itself, and the way it spoke implied familiarity. It knew her? She wracked her brain for answers. Her nose did not lie, this male trolls scent was new to her. This had to be some sort of trick, yet it bared no scent of fear or aggression. Her currently primitive mind failed to provide her with an explanation.

The greenblood took a cautious step backwards, she did not trust this male.

The words it spoke did little to part the fog of her mind; save one. Disciple. She had heard that word before, she was certain of it, but from where? A name, an important name.

My...name?

Tiny sparks of memory jumped through the haze. She was the Disciple, yes! It was a name she hadn't heard in many sweeps. And yet this peculiar brownblood seemed to know her.

"Am...Disciple...yess..." she said to herself, bringing one of her hands to her chest.

"All right, so what else about Disciple then." A smile as he moves to sit down, cross legged, keeping at her height. A seated position puts him more at a vulnerability, and since she's acting very much like a scared furbeast he figures he should treat her like one, for now. Which really? That's better than he treats most people, so she's lucky.

Summoner's not really sure what's happening with her, when she's from, before her time following the Signless? After? He doesn't know how feral she was at either time, and hasn't spoken to anyone that would know either. So he'll take his time, Lysunder doesn't mind at all.

"I'll start by giving you my name. Lysunder, or Summoner, or General, there's really a lot of things you can call me."

She re-centered her eyes on the brownblood, her head cocked slightly. This troll certainly loved to speak. The Disciples mind worked to figure out what exactly he was saying.

A name, his. Lysunder. It did seem familiar. She was quite sure she did not know this troll, but his manner showed he was at ease around her. Her brain failed to come up with an answer. She would learn more.

"Why...wings?" she forced out, voice still unsure. Her eyes darting to the brownblood's unique features.

"Oh?" He pauses, looking back, opening his wings slowly, casting orange around them as the light seeping through the canopy hits them. A small smile, fluttering them before folding them again behind him. "These old things?" A smirk, closing his eyes and lifting his head.

"Grew 'em myself! Apparently that's a rare thing or something like that." Still keeping pretty calm. just talking to like any person. Unfortunately he can speak to animals a lot easier with his commune, and though she might be acting more like an animal, she certainly was a troll, so that wouldn't work...

This troll was really wordy. The brownblood kept speaking to her, yet she found herself unable to understand most of it. Right then... that failed, she would find things out her way.

She crept forward, low to the ground, moving at a grub's pace. Her senses labored to take in everything about this mystery. Most importantly she would take in the scent of this creature fully. She just had to get closer.

Progress slow, she would eventually get to Lysunder. However, until then she remained ready to bolt if things looked dangerous.

Edited 2012-04-02 22:58 (UTC)

All she'd really smell was the forest since Summoner lives here just likes the various animals about.

He doesn't say anything, letting her get closer, casually leaning back on his hands with a smile.

Still no sign of aggression or fear. The Disciples curiosity continued to carry her closer. She hesitated about a arms length away from the brownblood, one last guarded look for hostility. Finding none, she approached the Summoner lithely.

She wound her way around him, taking his scent in. The greenblood finally completed her circuit, spending longer on the wings and horns. Mission accomplished, she retreated a couple steps and lowered herself into a perched position. She watched Lysunder carefully as she analyzed his scent.

He smelled of the wild, trees and other wild beasts. There rang other notes she could not place, but they were washed out by the ever-present smell of seawater. And again, no hint of hostility or fear. The Disciple would trust this one for now.

He has no reason to fear her, at least he feels that way, he assumes she is not looking to kill, not looking to feed upon him like some kind of antlered hoofbeast, so why fret? Instead he stayed still, watching her as she watched him. The only time he seemed to react badly was when she was rather close to his wings, feeling every small sensation as she smelled and searched, but since she didn't touch he had no need to really back away.

"Everything check in okay? I'd hate to've missed quota some how," a smirk, watching her as she lowers herself to the ground again. Summoner raises a leg, bending a knee, and braces a bent elbow against it. His chin rests calmly on his hand there and he just sits with her, watching, waiting, making no show of it.

"Hmm, well, I don't know about you, but would you like something to eat?" A simple gesture with his free hand to his mouth before the hand rests on his lap again.

This brownblood certainly seemed to have mastered the art of speaking without saying anything. She continued watching from her position a couple steps away. More nonsense words, and now the male troll casually watched her back. Her mind was still struggling to make sense of the situation. Unfortunately, her isolation had stripped her of the requisite knowledge.

Finally, with a gesture, he said something she could understand.

He was wondering if she wanted food. She didn't seem hungry, she in fact seemed full. Had she eaten lately? She couldn't quite fully remember what led up to her showing up, drenched in seawater. She stared at her hands, still slick with blood from some beast.

"Ate...recently..." She thought she had anyways. Then just as much to convince herself as the male brownblood, "...See?" She presented her hands to him.

Summoner could talk about serious subjects when it was necessary, but right now he was keeping high spirited, felt it was necessary. He wanted to ask her about what happened to her, when she was from, if she knew the Signless yet, but that could wait till she didn't seem so frightened. He knew her to be an intelligent troll, but anyone could grow some what feral depending on their life style.

"Ah.. uh, ate meat recently. You know, I don't eat meat myself, but when I did it was all right." A smile, hands grabbing his ankles as he sits.

"Did you eat with anyone the last time you did? Have company I mean?"

This brownblood seemed content to sit and watch her while it talked. She was still to anxious to sit for any long amount of time. But. he wanted to talk, so she would try. She started slowly exploring the clearing, examining anything she came across. Her mind still worked to decipher what he was saying. With anyone...company? He was wondering if she shared a den.

"Hunt alone. Eat...alone. Am...alone" Her head perked up from a small plant she had been examining.

"How long have you been alone? We're you always like that?" Just watching, his tone calm and posture relaxed.

"Long... remember." He certainly was curious about her. She would answer for now, being just as interested in him.
"Live...cave. Eat beast...survive... hiding." More words from her, as she was examining a particularly interesting beetle.

He's being led to believe this is Disciple before she became her known title... But she's older than the version of her he met before.

"Hiding?"

She stopped her investigations into the curious chitinous fauna. Vague memories play through her mind, long forgotten thoughts of her pursuers. Without context, she remembered how they hounded her, forcing her to kill to survive.

She slumps to the ground, her head turned away from the brownblood she answers.

"Hiding...yes." A furtive glance at the sitting troll. "From them...Would kill I if caught. So Hid."

"Ah..." He's not an idiot, he pretty much already knew what she was referring to. Highbloods right? Lysunder only got by because he made sure to follow orders while he had to. But still, he doesn't like to see how strongly she's reacting to this.

He's fucking curious though...

"Were they looking for you specifically?"

A small nod. The Disciples eyes grew distant, staring inward. Small bits of her memory revealing themselves to her. Someone had died, someone...important. The Highbloods were pursuing her, she thought anyways. It was proving hard to piece the fragments together. Awkward running, she hadn't honed herself yet. A flash of her slipping. Trees. A spray of blood; it was blue? Forms of shadows playing off the wall of a cave, moving past. She was safe, for now.

She shook her head, her eyes squinting. She tried to recall more, something, anything. Nothing came.

"They Chased...Yess. Wanted. Killed... hid, long." She tried to form her thoughts into words, it was becoming difficult.

He's unaware of her inner turmoil but he can get the gist of it watching her, knees bending up, arms resting on them as he watches. Chased... chased... It's still so vague, he can't tell if she's from before or after yet. He knows nothing about her time before she became the Disciple, so this could easily be her past self.

A sigh, distant, his eyes closing as he tilts his head up to the canopy.

"Killed. Killed what?" Did she kill something? Or did 'they'? It was tough, he wasn't sure if she was just learning speech or if she had known it and then fell backwards... He knows the disciple went into hiding after Darkleer's failed actions to execute her... But. Again, he can't be sure, this is all too vague. Part of him wants to find Signless, but he'd rather speak to her himself first.

More hesitation from the Disciple as she tries to conjure the words from the misty haze of her mind. Killed. Yes killed. She had killed. Taken the life of one of her pursuers who had found her. Wait, or had she stumbled upon him? She remembered hefting a large rock. There was a spray of blue. Highblood filth. Yet, she remembered tears; vomiting. She had been sick at what she had done. Why? It was one of them. She was confused by her own actions.

"Killed... yess. Was... upset." she shook her head in disbelief at her last statement "...Had to... been found...blueblood."

The greenbloods gaze shifted to the corner of her eyes, watching the Summoner, seeing if that was the answer he was seeking.

"Hmm, all right. Not uh, exactly what I thought. But-" Eh, fuck it. He can be the bold party here.

"Have you heard of The Signless?" His eyes move to her, locking there, staring as he awaited an answer, and if not an answer, he'll just read her body language, that would give him a good enough answer alone.

Signless.

That name she had hid from, she had been tired of the pain. More of her memories fell into place, bringing to her more of That night. The Disciple remembered...him...

The many sweeps of repressed memories flooding back overwhelmed her. Her vision wavered, turning olive green as tears began spilling down her cheeks. Her legs went weak, giving out, knocking her to her hands and knees.

From her mouth, which had been open to respond, came only a series wracking sobs.

"Shhh shh..." Bingo... though he certainly didn't feel like jumping up and sprinting to the stage to get his prize. Summoner's face immediately showed his understanding and he quickly pushed to his knees then feet, stepping over to her to crouch down near her if she'd let him.

"Come on now, no crying, no crying because you don't know what a wonderful gift you've been given yet... coming here." He tries to smile, small, at the same time wondering if he can set a hand on her head to smooth her hair away, but he doesn't, that hand lingering near but doesn't touch, trying to read her, understand the best approach to comforting her.

Events of that horrible night had drifted up from her subconscious. The painful images continued to play over in the Disciple's mind. Tears continued to stream from her, falling the short distance to the ground below. She felt lost, drowning in these memories. Her bestial mind stirred.

Her tears started to slack, the steady pattering growing irregular, and finally stopping. She blinked as she looked at the ground below her; it was wet. What had happened? Feeling a strangeness on her face, She brought one of her hands to her cheek, and pulled it back to see the tips of her fingers tipped olive, tears mingling with the blood of her earlier hunt. The Disciple looked at her fingers, confused.

The greenblood righted herself to a kneeling position. Blinking away the last of the tears, she noticed that the brownblood had moved next to her. Bewildered, she looked around the clearing, then back at the brownblood. Olive smears still lining her cheeks, she cocked her head at the Summoner. There was a strange look in her eyes, she could not recall the last thing he had said.

Edited 2012-04-09 07:29 (UTC)

Shock, seriously? Had she repressed it that much? Summoner took a deep breath.

Sorry Disciple, he doesn't really believe in repression as a way to go about solving your problems.

"You were thinking of The Signless, if you are confused as to what's happening." Aaannd round two, let's see if he hits it out of the park. What a frank and bold guys he is.

That name had been said again, sparking those buried memories. Her body started to slacken once gain. This time, however, something else forced itself to the surface. Recently quieted by her perceived safety, the beast inside her lay dormant. The mental turmoil allowed it to break free, as she retreated inward. She nimbly jumps to her feet, turning her gaze on the Summoner. The greenblood's eyes turn wild; dangerous.

This brownblood dares to say that name, dares to invoke it in front of her.

"Do not..speak that...word!" Said past bared fangs, a thin growl following.

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Oops, you broke her.

That was easy.

Well, to be fair, she was already broken.

A lot of people are.

They are special, broken, butterflies.