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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"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.

A long sigh leaves him, followed by a string of light hearted chuckles as he pushes himself up and moves over to her to kneel infront of her.

"You know-" Said distantly, moving to remove a small towel from his sylladex as he sat close. His hand soon moved up to her face, slowly, not wanting to startle her too much, and pressed the soft cloth to her cheek, his other hand braced in a knee.

"Crying only makes some people more gorgeous. I think-" A pause, glancing upwards with an expression of contemplation before he looks back and wipes her other cheek.

"I think you look all right. But I've yet to see that smile." And the towel's gone, sitting on his bent knees now, wings folded neatly behind him and hands going to rest on his lap.

"But I'm sure you'll smile once we talk a bit, okay? So cry, uh, what you need to anyway, and when you are more emotionally stable we'll get to some of the more interesting topics. Like, uh, heh, where you are, and who else is here. We're not the only trolls you know."

The Disciple had been engrossed in her self-loathing, still going over in her mind what she had been moments away from doing. She was startled from her thoughts by a careful caress of her cheek, the gentle play of a towel across her cheek brought her back to the present. The brownblood had moved closer once again, that same calm demeanor marking his features. Why was he so infuriating, and why was she actually growing to like him?

She continued to lean on the tree for support, but she fixed her gaze on him, her tears ceasing. The greenblood's eyes had really started to feel sore from all this crying she had been doing. As always he spoke many words, most of them hard for her to grasp. It had been so long since she has had to communicate verbally, barring savage grunts and growls. The brownblood seemed quite willing to keep talking, so she would try her best to figure out what it was that he was saying.

She caught bits and pieces of his wording, long-unused concepts being dredged from the riverbed of her mind. He seemed to wish her better, and wanted to help her find out about this place. Then he mentioned the further trolls. This she actually found herself quite interested in.

"Trolls...think sensed some, running...scented some. Wanted safety of forest. Many others...smell strange. Look...weird, no horns." she found herself speaking a lot more then she intended. She had opened her mouth to simply report of the scent, and more words kept tumbling out.

Edited 2012-04-15 07:05 (UTC)

The more she talks the more confident he gets and his posture seems to change a little. Though, he does notice her facial expressions when he tries to say certain things, tries to explain things here and there. Was she that distant intellectually right now?

Hiding.

Right.

The Disciple went into hiding.

Summoner clears his throat, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again and glancing up to her her. He soon removes a small plastic bag from his sylladex and scoots away from her slightly to set the bag down. It looks to be full of birdseed, and he soon opens it and pulls out a small handful.

"You," he points to her, "And I," points to himself, and then points to his hand full of birdseed, "And everyone else, are in a place called 'Vatheon'." And then he looks down and starts to pour small bits of birdseed here and there. Each colony of seeds is distant from another, some closer to eachother, some further away.

"The people here, all of us, we come from different places in the universe, in a bunch of universes." He points to each small group of seeds.

"And this place, Vatheon, had the power to pull us from home and bring us all here." He moves his hands to pinch seed up from each small pile to make one bigger one now, a finger tracing an invisible circle around this new seed pile.

"We all, from different planets and universes, live together here, in a rather peaceful and together society." A he speaks he's making rather simple gestures with his hands, things he'd use to denote calmer and more caring ideas when speaking to animals. A lot of open palms, slow movements, and a tranquil expression to match.

"Many people from our planet, Alternia, are here as well, but there's something else that happens." He takes removes a piece of rope from his sylladex and puts it on the ground, horizontal, stretched straight.

"This place is magical, and not only can it take a lot of people from many places, but-" His hand moves to the rope and moves down it, touching at certain places from one end to another.

"It can take you from any point in your own life."

His hand moves very close to one end.

"You could of come here when little, a cub, or-" He moves his finger further, "You could have come her older, which you did. For example."

He takes a breath, now comes the hardest part to explain.

"I never met the Signless until I came here. I would have never met you unless I cam here." Gestures, pointing to either of them, shaking his head.

"I am born from the Mother Grub, but not until a long time after you die and many die. This place here, it can take people from any time ever." He pauses, sitting back a little.

"I realize this is difficult to comprehend, but, do you understand?"

Edited 2012-04-15 19:08 (UTC)

The greenblood watched with obvious curiosity as the male troll started spreading the various piles of seed. She had even relinquished her hold of the tree to approach slightly, her head cocked slightly as she tried tried to make sense of was being told to her. The birdseed prop was proving to be quite helpful for her understanding. Her mind so focused on figuring out what he was saying that the comment about the Signless failed to register. The Disciple waited for him to finish his explanation, before she slowly moved forward to the piles of seed.

"Think...yes"

She cautiously reached out for a small pinch of the seeds. She then painstakingly took two of the tiny seeds and dropped them in one of the piles.

"We here. Home." Then picking up the two of the seeds from 'Alternia', she moved them to the encircled larger pile. "Moved...here. Water place. Vat-heon?"

"Come not just different where...different when." A look of confused disbelief flashing across her face. Different when, there was a weird idea. Coming from different times, back when things were better. A strange notion began to form in her mind, pieces of the puzzle fitting together. The Disciple continued speaking, this time a question.

"So taken...but why? Why here? Why us?"

"Yes! Many people here are from different places, but us?" Gestures to either of them.

"We're from the same place, Alternia, but from different times, or 'when'."

"Uh, as for what, remember all that glowing stuff in the plaza? Um, where you probably showed up? That's coral. People this that is what brought us here." He shrugged, back up a little.

"Uh, not sure why we're here exactly... and dunno why us, it seems to bring many different kinds of people from many different places."

"Other trolls, different whens...times." She said, taking a small amount of seeds from 'Alternia', and spreads them across the rope line. Flashing him a questioning glance.

Oh it was so much to take in, but she was trying her best. The greenblood thinks she remembers the blue coral when she first woke up here, though most of that is a blur of overloaded senses. Too many sights, sounds, and smells to confuse her. She had many questions, and not enough of a recovered vocabulary to ask them. The disciple would try her best, however.

"Take us forever? or go home?" She shook her head, trying to recall what to say.

"Other trolls, met some, ran past one. How many of us? We safe... are... Are we safe here?"

Terror under the sea

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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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