ORIGIN - Ruminations

Pages: 1 2

GM Note: please check the date on this thread, it has been pulled out of archives for continuation but it is ancient.

Far to one side of Polaris, within the wall and--by some miracle--not too near the Spire, there was a crevice. Once, Gembound had hidden there, young, newly-hatched: huddling together against flames that coursed through the cave. They had hidden in the dark, trembling in fear, as an epic battle waged throughout the cave. From the Spire had come waves of fire; battlecries and the scent of blood had filled the air.

Khloros no longer fit in that crevice. Still, every now and then he came to look upon it, and to think.

To remember the fox that had led them to safety. To remember that later, he had admitted that his intention had been to kill them all, if he could. To remember his use of disease as manipulation. It was these events that had made Khloros realize that the caves themselves were sick; that Death's purpose here was to end the cycles of torment.

He watched for a time, remembering how large the world had seemed, remembering hiding away. Remembering his fear slipping away, remembering the exact moment he'd struck adulthood: when that fox had diseased a friend to force the compliance of another. Khloros remembered plaguing Louie in turn, with a soft touch and gentle words, pretending to be kind, himself.

A trick that Louie had taught them.

The black horse turned, his bulk shifting on rail thin legs, his ribs visibly moving beneath a dull, flat coat slicked with pus. His mane hung limp and lanky over an emaciated neck, yet he showed no signs of discomfort. Eyes glowed lamplight green-white, virtually unblinking, as he turned to pace toward the Spire, to look up at this, for a time.

His plague was already spreading throughout the caves. He had noticed little effort to put a stop to it; perhaps the others had not truly realized, as yet. It would be spreading heavily among the Lesser Gembound, at first. Then the predators would become infected. Then the prey.

That would be the end of this binding cycle, the cycles implemented by some cruel and unfeeling creatures who had seen fit to bind their souls to crystals over, and over again, locked in torment, unable to be freed.

Lit by the blue glow of the Spire, the horse lifted his head, and stared, lost in thought.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Louie

The world around him was ever shifting and changing, the fluidity of time hardly giving him a chance to gain his footing. There hadn't been a day that he had experienced true rest, only fleeting moments of shut eye that allowed him to continue to subsist. Eating wasn't a requirement of those bound to stones, but it could be considered a pleasurable act by some. Lately, he had felt like just swallowing rocks and sending himself to the bottom of the river than ran alongside the magicka infused spire. The atrocities he had committed, the deaths and most seriously the torture. While death was common, to exert oneself over another and force compliance was an entirely different ball game.

But there had been love. A deep unnerving love that made him sick to his stomach as time went on. The man had disappeared, most likely killed by his savage dragon, either that or his time had merely come as he struggled with the aftermath of the fox's disease. However it had ended, Louie hadn't been there for him as he had pushed away all he loved in a feeble attempt to make himself superior. Cutting emotional ties to try and maintain an appearance of fear. It had worked. It had hollowed out whatever was left of him to the point that he couldn't even function. It had worked in destroying him and through that yes, maybe he was to be feared. A man broken by his own twisted games designed to hurt others. No wait it wasn't fear others would think when seeing him. It was pity.

Feeling himself drawn to the watery grave that lay at the bottom of the river inlet, he tore himself away and set eyes on the Spire. A beautiful creation, one that existed when he had first hatched. He mused about how he had attempted to climb it with a fisher and a bear. Both who he had decided would be valuable to him, but both had succumb to the curse of the caves, leaving no trace of their previous existence. Maji Walezi, Bonebound... Merry Men. These were all names lost to time. Maybe it was also his time, as everything moved on the old timer was stuck in the past.

Eyes drifting over the crystalline structure, he froze as they came to rest on the sickly equine. Though he required no breath, the was a conscious attempt to hold it. A past figure he had wronged at such a crucial time of the young gemlings life, during a time of great suffering and the loss of his own eye. Since then, he had regained it, he found himself running a paw over his newly restored eye. One that he hadn't deserved and one he would continue to hate as it lay nestled within his skull. But it was now he was fully getting a good look at the specimen. It was terrifying.

Lean to the point of skeletal, the plague horse oozed disease. Envy rose in the back of his throat as he studied the stallion with eagerness. He had been dethroned as the king of the bacterial world. Now it had an entirely new emperor to bow to. As he stared, he became aware of Khloros being able to see him and quickly slipped behind the Spire, pressing up against it as he tried to avoid detection. What a pitiful old man.

i feel so alone out here

@Khloros

For a long time Khloros stood eerily silent. He was still recovering from the battering he'd received at the horns and hooves (and flames) of the ram Aries; he wondered in a vague and distant sense if the ram had died, where he'd left him, lying broken and unconscious under shelves of ice.

He hoped, at least, that it had been a painless death, if so. Perhaps Aries had merely slipped into a deeper sleep, and never awoken. He did not wish to imagine him struggling there, starving, dying. Still, it was a distant thought, and it had more come to the forefront of his mind because he was in pain, himself. Ribs still ached, more noticeable when he stood with nothing to distract him from it. Seared hide still twinged as it healed.

Quietly, he took stock of this. It was recovering; he was nearly fully recovered. He turned his attention slowly back to the Spire.

These thoughts, this calculation, had taken him another thirty seconds of utter silent stillness. He did not even blink, ghostlight eyes gazing up emptily at the Spire.

He found himself wondering if the Spire were alive; it certainly seemed aware, at times, lashing out at those who drew too near. Or was it merely resonance? Was it as dropping water in a pool, and causing ripples--violent, electric ripples? With a soft snort the horse drew nearer. He had not noticed the fox, a shadow in the dark, flitting behind the glowing crystals; his mind was elsewhere.

He drew his magicka together, tilting his head, and tried to feel tentatively out at the Spire, tried to extend his senses for it. The buzz of bacteria, for an instant, grew in his mind--answering to him--and then he felt the magic lash through his head, violently. Perhaps it was the Spire's proximity, but the pain shut down his spell at once and he reared, unleashing a challenging, spectral scream, a horse's shriek but hollowly echoing, at the crystals. It was loud, it was sharp, and it rang off the stones as his black body arched into the air, forehooves striking out at nothing. To any watching, it might seem to have been unprompted, a sudden mad, shrill whinnying at absolutely no prompt.

He then came back to the stone, feet clattering there, snorting and staring down the crystals.

Was that an attack? Is it aware I am here? Or is it merely too dangerous, to cast so close?

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Louie

All he had to do was calm his racing heart. A vestigial heart that served no purpose other than to complete his morphology. It was like an eerie curse, a shadow that he couldn't shake in the shape of a straggly ungulate. Peering around the stone, he felt stupid being reduced to hiding, like a prey animal who was afraid of being hunted. Was it really fear that he was feeling? Louie struggled to discern how he felt and he pulled himself back and let out a soft exhale from his nose. If there was ever a time for a comeback, it was now. Defeat the miserable beast and reclaim what was rightfully his. The original plague beast.

It took him a few hesitant seconds, before he revealed himself from behind the stone. Only 20 inches at the shoulder, he didn't even come close to reaching Khloros' knee, but he glared with a newfound fire. The emotion he had decided to settle on, was arrogance. "Khloros. It's been some time." The shakiness in his voice was hard to contain, but he managed to pull it off well. Foxes weren't considered sly for nothing. Just as Khloros had, he let his mind and stone stretch out, probing the bacterial world and all its millions of inhabitants. It felt like home, one had forgotten and refused to seek aid from. Now though, he was welcomed back into its embrace. But just as he tried to contact it, it spat back at him with almost a venomous hiss. It stung both figuratively and literally, as his neck began to burn from the sensation of bacteria feeding away at his insides. A disgusting feeling he hoped to never recreate.

In that same instance, there was a roar from across the room and his pelt stood on end. Rearing and screeching, the shadowed skeletal figure was expressing anger and frustration at something. Shifting his weight to his hindquarters, the fox analysed his body language further to try and see if it was directed at him. Subconsciously, he found himself chewing the inside of his cheeks. However, it seemed to be to some unknown reactant. After the outburst, he found himself thoroughly unnerved, though the determination to redeem himself kept him planted. That and his first response to such a horrifying sound seemed to be to freeze rather than to bolt immediately.

i feel so alone out here

@Khloros

Khloros pranced for a beat, catching his footing on the rough rock and snorting. Slender neck arched, and for a moment he merely seemed like a hot-blooded stallion, rather than a dreadful plagued monster. He seemed alive.

When he lifted his head, tossing it indignantly, he spotted a new figure almost at once: something small that had crept out from behind the Spire, something that was speaking distant words. He thought he caught his name, in them.

He began to pace forward, to approach it on long, spidery legs, all knobbled knees and oversized black hoof on skeletal bone. The thing before him was long; it was furred.

It had one burn-scarred eye.

It was Louie.

Khloros lowered his head to stare closely at Louie; some distant memory reminded him that they shared their type of magic. Khloros was unconcerned; any sickness the fox threw at him could be quickly purged. Still, the horse drew his magicka forth again, unthinking, pulling it around him like a shroud, but again it simply... backfired. He could faintly feel the plague within him roil, and he pushed the thought away. Later. I will deal with that... later.

For now, he had a spectre that had long haunted his mind, standing before him in the flesh.

"Louie," he rasped. His voice was calm again, a hollow echo. His tone was empty of emotion, indifferently distant and detached. Whether it was an act, or the horse felt nothing, was difficult to tell. Then, with no change in this tone, he spoke further. "Do you hurt?"

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Louie

tw; mild swearing c:

Its movements were so fluid. The gap between them was closed in only a few quick steps and he found himself staring up at the hollow eyes of this abyssal beast. Confidence was draining fast, but he just plastered a scowl on his face. Nothing would equate to what he suffered at the hands of that horned fool. The one who wished to purge the caves of carnivores. What a joke. Everything was just a fucking joke. The words that fell almost struck the stone with the a clang, sending chills down his spine. First it was his name, then it was a question.

"Do you hurt?"

Every day he had hurt. Every fucking day for the past year and a half he hurt. Pushing himself into the farthest reaches of origin caves so he could be in quiet solitude as he continued to torture himself. Replaying over and over what he had done in such a short year, how he had caused both gain and loss within others and himself. How he had constantly denied himself happiness, friends. Corrupted others. Corrupted Khloros. Even if his reach hadn't extended far, those he had touched always suffered a misfortune as a direct result of meeting him.

"No.". The answer was dry, a firmness to his voice. He was curious as to whether Khloros would pick up on his newest acquisition. The peridot coloured eye to match the extended, jagged piece down his neck. He'd undergone a recovery transformation, his gem sealing over his body so that he may once again be reborn a new. What did he remember of his sealing? Not enough. Just his confession.

In preparation for whatever horrifying concoction would attempt to throw itself down his throat, he steeled his body.

i feel so alone out here

Khloros watched Louie for a very long time, waiting. The fox offered nothing further, but nor did Khloros. He simply stood there, staring, unblinking.

He showed no expression. He asked nothing further. He just... waited.

In his mind, of course, there were thoughts; slow, unhurried. He was remembering a vague desire to kill Louie. He wondered if Louie would provoke this from him now, or try to. He wondered what the fox desired, why he was speaking to Khloros at all. Surely he knew he was unwelcome, after what had happened..?

Perhaps he was merely lonely.

Indifferent, detached, Khloros stared down. And indifferent, detached, he waited in silence.

I wonder if he will scramble for words. I wonder if the slime will pour out of his mind in their form. I wonder if he will again try his fumbling manipulation. I wonder if he will merely leave.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Louie

Slowly, he found himself catching his breath as he stared down the horse. They stood in unblinking, unwavering silence. This provided him with time to think, time to remember. So much had transpired in his absence, he had watched from the shadows uninterested. Truly, the only thing that had kept him going was gone. Booker was gone. The various "versions" of Booker were gone as well. They weren't coming back. There was no point in continuing. Why did he even continue surviving? Their last conversation though... It was over before he had even disappeared.

Chest tightening, he was as hollow as the beast in front of him. Never getting a chance to truly meld and find true connections. Except Louie had that chance, squandered it and spat it out. Khloros hadn't had the luxury of choice. "I stole your chance at forming some semblance of a functioning relationship with other creatures." An observation. "We both each have a stake in the world of our element. There aren't many of us. You are the only other I know of who has taken the time to observe and master what others consider a curse." But yet he too had fallen into the destruction that it brought. Again, a direct result of Louie's own actions, but still it was a good way to wax poetic.

"I've seen what you've done. Impressive." Causing death and misfortune to others, on a scale even he hadn't achieved. "Did I even want to achieve that?" Cautiously, he awaited a response, a movement.

i feel so alone out here

@Khloros

Khloros listened, remaining wholly indifferent. This is what he feels the need to say? What is it that he expects? Wants? Khloros's reply came without tone, nor was it rushed or clipped, or in any way hostile. It was simply factual, detached as before.

"You stole little, bar innocence. It was not I you wronged. Though I would like to kill you for it," Khloros added, as if this were a mere curious observation that--for now--he had no intention of following through on. His head tilted slightly, as if wondering about this to himself, and then he continued.

"Have you seen what I have done? I think," he added, mildly, "that you give me too much credit. I wish to remove pain. If you have seen the plague spreading... I was not in my right mind. There is a bat. It calls itself, Crack. It is black." The words came almost unbidden, and in this moment a dark, twisted satisfaction knitted itself within Khloros' heart.

Let them find one another. They deserve one another.

"It touched me with its death, and for a time, I was mad. I am... recovered, now, though I have done great ill. This, 'Crack,' will spread plague and kill the caves, so it says. It matters little. These cycles are coming to an end. The souls trapped in birth, pain and rebirth, will be freed. The bat merely speeds it along."

The horse watched Louie, wondering what he'd been up to. Wondering where he'd been slinking, all these years. "That bat may be stronger than I. It may be stronger than you. Should you seek it, use caution." Again, aloof indifference.

And hidden behind it, a deep, grim pleasure.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Louie

There was something in the way he spoke that made him feel sick, the cool tone in which he threatened violence on the fox. Louie felt his gaze becoming a stare, as he strained for the slightest sign of hostility from the horse. When speaking of the Plague, he refused to take credit and spoke instead of another. Although it came out as almost a sing-song rhyme which was hard to distinguish if it was... well true. The idea of another prokaryotic entity that sought to spread harm was definitely telling of the nature of their element. While they sought to influence the microbiota they did so with only the cruellest intentions. Except this horse, who spoke as though he had become redeemed. Despite everything.

Louie gave a sniff, "So... you have managed to break free from whatever was ailing you. I merely assumed that was how your prokaryotic power manifested within you." Nothing looked different about the horse. Although maybe that was just his unaccostumed eyes that were looking over him. Eyes that seemingly gazed unfocused as he mulled over the years. "If this "Crack" creature is what you caused to be the way that you are, how did you manage to... well get over it?" A beast breaking free of its own identity was something he needed to learn if he ever wished to progress past his two-dimensional obsession and desire with ruling these caverns.

i feel so alone out here

@Khloros

Pages: 1 2