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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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.

Yes indeed he does.

"I'm sorry, but repression is no way to deal with your problems." A shake of his head, he doesn't back up, doesn't get defensive, doesn't even remove his lance from his sylladex.

"You need to accept things like that, especially in a place like this. Have you bothered giving this place thought yet?"

The beast inside her slipped into frenzy. This arrogant, infuriating brownblood! First, he reminds that word. Now, he doesn't even have the comprehension to know when to be terrified? Oh, he will know fear. Let's see how nonchalant he is covered in his own blood!

A savage cry escapes her throat as the Disciple throws herself at him. Whipcord muscles released from sudden tension, throwing her at the Summoner. Her leap was aimed to carry herself into his chest, knocking him flat on his back. Then, straddling her prey's chest, she raised one wicked claw-tipped hand high in the air, poised to strike down at him.

The Disciple's wild eyes looked down at him, let's see him show no fear now!

And he'll dead fish, flat on his back, wings doing well to fold under him properly. A small noise as his back hits and he's careful not to brace with his arms, knowing his lighter than average bones might break under the force. Instead he hits flat, a small startle but he was kind of anticipating this when he saw that change of face.

He watches the claw and just smiles, trying very hard not to make a comment about her being ontop of him. Instead he just stays quiet, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh come now, I'm hardly your enemy." Said quietly. He's ready to quickly wrestle he legs up and flip her back if he needs to... but he'd rather just see something first.

Mind nearly incoherent with rage, she wanted nothing more then to plunge those claws into him, ending him. There was enough of her conscious mind still left that she was able to come to a terrible realization.

When did you become like those murderers?

Shock and revulsion stole over her features, as the full realization of what she was about to do hit home. She was willing to kill the brownblood, and why? That he wasn't going to be afraid of her? That he wouldn't bow to her will? She was acting like a highblood. The Disciple felt like she was going to be violently ill.

Her hand struck down, the blow aimed away from the Summoner. Her claws find purchase in the soft soil of the forest floor. Slowly, her hand digs a jagged furrow in the soil as she pulls herself off of him, falling ungracefully onto her side.

Clumsily she lifts herself to her hands and knees and starts the arduous journey of crawling over to the nearby bushes.

"..Am so-sorry... Not them." Her mind still reeling as she fought back the waves of loathing. Suddenly a coherent sentence...

"I am not one of them!"

"Shh nonono." He immediately rises after she falls off him, furrowing his brows. He knew this would happen... Though he felt a slight wince in him when she attacked the ground near his head, he knew she wouldn't continue on with harming him. Summoner knows the legends of the Disciple. But perhaps he is just to led astray right now, away from the Signless who did so well to calm her and help her set a goal for herself.

"Don't go, please. At least let me tell you something of value, all right?" He adjusts in his seat, not following her, but ready to try and stop her if he needs to. Summoner just needs to tell her what this place is, as much as he understand himself- how it works, tell her that he is here...

Finally she makes it to the edge of the clearing, her journey at an end. Part of her wanting to throw up from her reaction to the Summoner, the other not wanting to surrender what may be her last meal for awhile. So instead, she sat propped against a tree, fighting against an intense feeling of revulsion. She had become a monster, willing to kill this brownblood for such a petty reason. The bestial part of her had retreated, her realization forcing her conscious mind to the foreground.

The greenblood found herself at an impasse. She was unwilling to face the troll she had almost attacked. She also found herself feeling physically weak, so fleeing was out of the question. So she stayed propped up against her tree, fresh tears marring her face.

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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.

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Bad kitty. Off the summoner!

Figures~ All the ladies~

All of them.

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