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Post by Rinny on Sept 9, 2016 23:28:44 GMT
Welcome to your
Sitting upon the intricate throne the Goddess crossed Her legs in one seamless and sensual motion. "A soul trapped in a tin can." Nevyne mused to Her parasitic colleague on top Her head. "And what an interesting collection of locked away memories in the subconscious, hm?" The Deity's strangely colored eyes would flicker above to the large set above. "What do you think, Opgraven? Think this one could be fun?" A hand would raise, petting her darling Oppy with a darkly licentious air. The tentacle curling gently at the touch. "Yeah, I think so too ...."
Dullahan would "awaken" to a sore neck. Probably due to its previous position. Hanging limp, chin resting upon her chest. How long had she been this way? The smell of chemical cleaners and alcohol was heavy. Upon opening her eyes and looking around the woman would find herself in a small cramped broom closet. Built in shelves held varying cleaning supplies. A broom and mop were shoved messily into a corner. The single naked lightbulb above her flickered unsteadily, leaving the room in complete darkness every few seconds or so.
Upon attempting movement Dullahan would recognize that she was unable to. Tied to a generic metal fold-up chair, rope held her arms tightly to her sides. If she were to attempt to remove a limb to make escape easier the woman would find that impossible. She had felt pain in her neck earlier. Looking down Dullahan would see a human body much resembling the cyborg body she had grown accustomed to in the real world. It seemed metal had been replaced by flesh without her consent for this odd dream.
Perhaps she still had that knife strapped to her boot? Could she reach it? If not surely there was something in the storage closet that she could use to break free .... And as smoke would begin to sift through the bottom of the single solitary door a sense of urgency would most likely settle. Where was she? What was going on? ... And was that a distant female scream she had just heard on the otherside of the door?
W O R D S *** M U S I C NightmareT A G Caroline Vorlan N O T E S Don't hesitate to ask me to rewrite anything. Playing your deity correctly is my primary goal above all else.
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Post by Caroline Vorlan on Sept 12, 2016 21:12:16 GMT
 Notes Fuuuuuuuuuck thiiiiiiiiiiiiis!!!!
| 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AND IT DID She blinked a few times and groaned as she rolled her neck. That was an unfamiliar pain… what…? Her eyes snapped open. What the hell?! She gasped as she pulled and felt rope resist her; it wasn’t the dulled pain she was used to… it was much stronger. Was this a dream, then? And that smell… good gods, that was a powerful stench. She rocked back and forth in her chair. A folding chair, with simple ropes? No trouble there; her strength would allow her to break free without a problem. Or… it should. She found herself becoming increasingly frustrated at the ropes refusing to budge. Why? In fact, everything felt wrong. She was weaker… the pain in her neck… her breathing… This wasn’t her cyborg body! She took a few breaths of chemical-laced air. There was no way this wasn’t a dream. She never dreamt; she had visions, hallucinations, invasive thoughts… but she hadn’t recalled the last time she’s truly dreamt for … well, for her living memory. Probably no coincidence it’s happening at the same time of all those reports of people dying mysteriously in their sleep. She had no time to dwell on it, though. Smoke began pouring in through the crack, and she felt a dire sense of panic. She breathed heavily and struggled harder. Her feet weren’t bound, and that would be her only saving grace. She backed her leg up, bending it to her hand… and almost dropped the knife when she heard the scream. Who was that? Well, she’d find out one way or the other, but it was disturbingly familiar, adding to her panic. She finally felt the grip of the knife and breathed with relief. She pulled it from her boot and turned it in her hand. Come on… come on… The smoke was getting thicker. She coughed, and redoubled her efforts. No, no more fire. Not again. Not even in a fucking dream. It took her only a few moments to slice the rope (and the surface of her skin). She shook her wrist and went to work on the other rope, freeing her hand sooner. With watering eyes, she stood. Was she shaking? Was this what it was like to be human? Her only memories of her body are pain and burning. Panic was a new sensation. She was afraid to kick open the door, to see flames, burning, and face gods-know how long suffering again. But the very real feel of the acrid smoke gave her the courage she needed. With an expert kick at the weak point of the door, she flung it open, and ran out of the room, looking for air untainted by smoke and ground untouched by flames. |
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Post by Rinny on Sept 22, 2016 3:34:22 GMT
Welcome to your
The burst of heat would be what greeted Dullahan first, along with a plume of smoke that would sting her eyes. What a bother human traits were. If the young woman were to lower herself she'd be able to vaguely see through the cloud of smoke. The air is dry. After a period of time has passed her tongue would experience parchness that was anything but pleasant. Flames flicked threateningly about the entire floor. It was a governmental office, wooden desks and paperwork burned with no hint of ceasing.
As a chunk of the ceiling fell with a crash to showcase that this was not the only floor with a, you know, minor fire issue, another female voice would scream out. "Aunty!" cried out the voice desperately. Farah. The thirteen year old was somewhere in this hell? Why would she be here? Of all people! Another crash resounded as a light fixture landed heavily the broken desk nearest the government agent. If Caroline were to set her hand upon the ground at any moment she'd feel heat. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that the floor could give way if she weren't cautious.
"Aunty!!" The voice cried out in a higher pitch shortly followed by a handful of strained coughs. If Dullahan were to find the teenager it would be up on the next floor in the fetal position, crying and shivering in a corner. And if the woman attempted to pull or carry the girl, she'd struggle against her advances.
W O R D S *** M U S I C NightmareT A G Caroline Vorlan N O T E S Don't hesitate to ask me to rewrite anything. Playing your deity correctly is my primary goal above all else.
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Post by Caroline Vorlan on Sept 22, 2016 20:51:57 GMT
Notes fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckmefuckthisfuuuuck
| 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AND IT DID Instinct brought her arms up to shield her face, but that couldn’t stop the smoke. She knelt down to the floor, feeling the heat from below. Eyes closed with an unfamiliar sting, she coughed violently at the sudden plume of smoke. What the hell? Magi were even torturing her dreams now? She nearly gagged at the dryness in her throat; the first human sensations she’s felt, and of course it would be bombarded by heat, fire, and smoke at every turn. She lifted her knee cautiously, the flames on that familiar carpet biting at her like piranhas at the surface of the water. Her skin crawled at the constant feeling of heat, that familiar, torturous feeling. She lifted her arms up to shield her eyes from rising ash and sparks as the ceiling collapsed. She never dreamed. Why now? Why this?! Her head snapped at the voice. “Farah?!” No, an illusion, she had to be. Her thought was interrupted by the crash of the light, forcing her to step back. She wrapped her arms protectively against herself; what she wouldn’t give to have her thermal plating for this nightmare! That Farah… She was an illusion trying to guide her into another firey hell… But… dreams could be shared, couldn’t they? Even if it wasn’t… fuck, pull your damn self together, Enthaupten! With new resolve and a battle growl, she forced herself through the smoke. No hydraulic legs, but the ceiling would do it. The voice was coming from the second floor… She’d climb onto the rubble of the collapsed roof, and use it to grab onto the next level. Hot! Hot! She almost fell as she recoiled… That pain was so real, so… like that night. But Farah’s next cry drew her away from her dwelling. “Farah! Hold on!” She growled and grunted through the burning pain and she dragged herself up to the next floor. No time to dwell, where was she? There! She ran and slid to the girl, and hesitated in surprise at her first sign of resistance. “Farah, it’s aunty, we need to get out of here!” Dullahan said, crouched protectively over the girl. She turned her head to cough and tried to pick up the girl once more. “Farah, the building’s not safe! I have to get you out of here!” She tried to maintain a calming voice for her, but the heat against her skin felt like she was being flayed, as if the flesh was slowly burning from her bone as it did eight years ago. Not again, no… |
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Post by Rinny on Sept 22, 2016 22:00:19 GMT
Welcome to your
"Wah--? Let go of me! Let go!" The thirteen year old would push against the adult's grasp as well as she could. "You're not -- Aunty!" Farah's voice rang with a new found hope as she looked over Caroline's shoulder. "Aunty! I'm here--" The teenager coughed into her arm as the smoke proved too much for her. Though her smile of relief never wavered.
From behind, Caroline would feel a searing hot grasp upon her arm, swinging the human around to face the newcomer. What stood before those violet eyes would be a visually damaged cyborg body. Synthetic skin melting and hanging loose. Open circuitry and metal components ashen from debris. Sizzling purple hair having slid down the back of the robotic head that housed a brain inside a see-through compartment. The eyepatch having been melted into the synthetic skin was now sliding down the metallic skeletal body. The silver jawline rose and lowered as if it were attempting to speak but no words omitted. Seemed the tongue function had been destroyed as well. The metal hand that had gripped Caroline's arm, glowing an orange from the temperatures it had just traveled through, finally released after pulling her away from the teenager with a strength that was expected of a cyborg.
"Are you going to let that tin can bitch take away your niece?" Came a calm and collected voice that seemed to originate right next to Dullahan's ear. Regardless if the woman looked around for the voice's origins there would be none. It would only continue to speak in an almost seductive whisper. "You're you. That thing isn't you .... right?" The itself seemed to flow unnaturally in what could be argued to be artistic strokes of a paint brush. Meanwhile, the glowing metallic hand reached out to pull Farah into the naked cyborg's body. The same hand that had burned and caused Caroline so much pain just moments ago. If the human hesitated for a lengthier period of time the voice would continue. "You were there when she was born, weren't you? You watched her grow up from infancy to womanhood, didn't you? Surely if you're you, you'd remember that?" Meanwhile, the surroundings that had seemed so chaotic and threatening would faze slightly. The flames licked in a slower and slower speed, the smoke would continue to not threaten the entire scenery but would collect into artistic strokes across the air.
W O R D S *** M U S I C NightmareT A G Caroline Vorlan N O T E S Don't hesitate to ask me to rewrite anything. Playing your deity correctly is my primary goal above all else.
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Post by Caroline Vorlan on Sept 23, 2016 16:40:31 GMT
Notes Now there's the mindfuckery we need. Get rekt, Dully
| 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AND IT DID “Farah, what are you talking about? It’s me, au-AGGH!” She cringed and tensed at the burning sensation digging into her arm, fuck, fuck, fuck! Through half-closed eyes and a face contorted in pain, she looked upon the cybernetic skeleton of herself. Melted, demonic, twisted… Disgusting. And yet she felt the chill of fear creep into her spine; that was her, under her flesh; just a frame of metal. She tried to pull away, but found herself unable under the orange-hot grip of this abomination. When she was tossed, she landed without grace, skipping helplessly on the ground, grunting in pain. Get up, get up! She shivered in pain; the burning felt like it was crawling through her entire body from her arm. She looked down at the charred, seared flesh… this was the camp all over again. No! No, she wouldn’t let it be! On shaky arms, she forced herself up to a knee. Her head jerked at the sound of the whisper, seeing no body to make the voice. Another hallucination, even in her nightmares? Of course she was her! “Fuck… Get the hell away from her,” she hissed, forcing herself up on shaky legs, coughing and cringing. She’d be gods-damned if she let Farah feel the same type of pain she had to endure. “Get back!” She didn’t hesitate. Even without her cyborg body, Dullahan was a strong woman, with a will to match. She sprang forward at the melting caricature of herself. It would burn. It would sear. But it would not do so to her niece. She wasn’t going to risk a punch of a kick; she had to get it away. So she launched herself fully against the cyborg, shoulder to chest, throwing all her weight behind this heavy shoulder-tackle. She just needed to get it to stumble back, to stop! Put herself between the two! Gods willing, it would move, but if not, she’d go to literally put herself between Farah and the… the monster. You were there when she was born, weren’t you?Successful or not, the voice would force her into a wide-eyed look. She… She must have been, before! There were pictures, and she was there. Wasn’t she? Just because she couldn’t remember didn’t mean it didn’t happen. …Right? She would find herself trembling at her uncertainty. Did they do something to her? |
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Post by Rinny on Sept 24, 2016 21:33:30 GMT
Welcome to your
The cyborg would be successfully sent stumbling back into the flames to find itself falling through the floor as it crumbled beneath the metalic skeleton. Farah's tearful cry, watching as the being she believed to be her aunt, fell from view. However, Dullahan would find the scene slowed and muted. Farah's facial expressions insinuated that she was crying out but not a whisper could be heard. In fact the entire scenery was eerily silenced quite suddenly in fact.
The flames that flicked about the atmosphere did so at a surreal time's pace of a snail. "Mmm mmmmm~" Hummed the female voice from earlier. It was an eerie sing songy tone that flowed and ebbed. A form construed with woven whisps of smoke would begin to casually encircle the dreamer as the odd hummed tune continued. With every minor key, it continued in its jellyfish motions of movement.
"You don't remember, .... do you?"
The question was asked in a series of repeated phrases. Each one just a hair off in timing from the one before. Some harmonizing, others conflicting. "How can you claim that you are you?" Asked the voices as the smoke continued to curl and sway in an elegant swirling of fogged emotions. "You don't even remember your own life."
W O R D S *** M U S I C NightmareT A G Caroline Vorlan N O T E S Don't hesitate to ask me to rewrite anything. Playing your deity correctly is my primary goal above all else. Whether Dully herself is slowed down as well I leave up to you. I can roll with it either way.
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Post by Caroline Vorlan on Sept 26, 2016 22:42:42 GMT
Notes Can't punch this problem away, Dulls | 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AND IT DID “Nnghh!” Dullahan grunted at the impact, her flesh searing against the metal body. It was worth it, though, as it staggered back and disappeared. She turned to Farah once more, but… Everything was slowed. What… was going on? Was this a dream, or just a horribly vivid hallucination? And that voice… that was not the normal female voice she heard during her breakdowns. Her face contorted in pain and rage, as she dropped to one knee in front of her niece. She was shaking, the burning sensation fueling horrible memories, but she would crouch protectively in front of Farah, as if shielding her from the voice. She curled her hands into fists and growled, her head snapped around the room to look for the voice. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember. Nothing from before eight years ago… she only knew of her past from what her father told her, and a few pictures from various family get-togethers. Her growl turned into a defiant scream, and she forced herself to stand protectively in front of her niece. Composure was no longer an option; the setting unnerved her more than anything in her life, but she wasn’t going to cower and take it. She eyed the wispy form as it danced about, fists up and ready to strike. The voices seemed to come from everywhere, a cacophony that would not be silenced, eliciting another scream from her. “No! I don’t remember! I can’t! But that doesn’t mean my experiences didn’t happen!” The rage in her matched the setting of the burning building. She trembled, but remained stalwart in her defiance. This thing was toying with her and that realization only redoubled her fury. “I know who I am! Who the hell are you to say you know me any better?” As confident as her words were, she couldn’t deny the truth to the voice’s song. She didn’t know who she was before; was she different? What was her life like? Of course, she had been told plenty of small things by her family, but… Not knowing 31 years of your life wasn’t… normal. |
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Post by Rinny on Sept 28, 2016 22:19:25 GMT
Welcome to your
As soon as the graceful smoke was provoked it instantaneously collected in one precise area of the room to then shoot itself forward towards the mortal. A hideous demonic snarl screamed at the woman that dared ask such a thing of it. "I am ME, you foolish girl!!" Shrieked the collection of voices at a volume and frequency loud enough to cause extreme pain. The building itself trembled at the power. The menacing mouth filled with sharp teeth opened so widely upon the last word it encompassed Caroline's head before dissipating into wisps again.
"Thirty-nine years of life, and you can only remember eight years of it." The voices spoke in unison again, bitter annoyance clear in their tones. "And for some reason you're content with that. You just accept it. Never once considering that you should discover why that is. How unambitious. Uncreative. How selfish." The wisps would collect again to unite into a sightly female form. Though there were no facial features expressed, somehow it was apparent that it was staring directly at the mortal.
"You are the equivalent of a shit movie on repeat." The figure spat, smoke hands upon hips. "Just ten years ago your dreams varied, had hopes and inspirations. Now all I see are the same tired images. Played over and over. I don't ask much of you mortals, I really don't. I allow you to enter my realm for escapism, peace, rest. But you dare to insult my hospitality with such tired displays night after night."
The figure tilted her head downwards to the thirteen year old girl still crying out in a slowed speed. "I don't have to be a courteous host." The being said, motioning elegantly with one hand to the girl named the woman's illusionary niece. Just like that, the teenager's skin began to unravel, spiraling into the air as blood would begin streaming where deemed necessary. The Farah on display would seem to shift her attention from the hole in the floor where the cybernetic Dullahan had fallen through to raise her fingers to her cheeks, silently seeming to scream in horror and pain. Strip after strip, flesh would spiral into the air to rise and rise until there was a collection of stripped flesh on the ceiling.
W O R D S *** M U S I C NightmareT A G Caroline Vorlan N O T E S Don't hesitate to ask me to rewrite anything. Playing your deity correctly is my primary goal above all else.
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Post by Caroline Vorlan on Sept 29, 2016 16:46:20 GMT
| 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AND IT DID Dullahan crossed her arms in front of her face as the smoke approached, closing her eyes. The screech forced a weakened grunt from her, and she fell to her knees. Her entire head pounded and skin crawled from that sound. What in the hell WAS that? She began to breathe heavily as the being addressed her. Insulted her. Her fingers tensed against the ground in indignant rage. Selfish? Who the FUCK was this thing to call her suffering selfish?! Content? Obviously this thing, whatever it was, didn’t know as much about her as it claimed. She sprung to her feet and whipped around, ready to throw a fist at this despicable trick of the mind. Her fury paused for a brief moment, and she stood still, a punch half wound back, and a furrow of confusion on her face. Dreams from… before? Did this thing really know…? No! She grit her teeth and twisted her foot to ground herself. Before she could launch herself at the wisps of smoke, the gesture drew her eyes to Farah. “No! Farah! NO!” She ran to her niece, eyes wide in terror, and her whole body trembled. “No, no, nonono,” she said, repeating the sentiment. This couldn’t be happening! Her screaming face showed the pain she wanted to make sure she never felt. She tried to hold the skin on to her, moving her hands all over, trying to force whatever magic this was AWAY from her niece. Blood covered Dullahan now; hands, arms, face, body… coated in her niece’s blood. When it was obvious she couldn’t stop it, her cries of “no” rose in volume, and, for the first time in her memory, tears began to pour from her eyes, streaking down a face twisted downward in fear. She tried to piece the skin back to her, to no avail. She sobbed. She was no stranger to blood, or to gruesome sights; she saw what Inoue did, she knew what Oliver enjoyed, and she had hundreds of lives on her hands… But to have it come from her niece… She clenched her bloodied fist. If she couldn’t stop it this way, she’d have to try another way. She sniffed once, her face to the ground and voice almost inaudible. “Leave. Her. ALONE!!” The last word came as a long scream as she whipped around and threw a full-bodied punch at the form. It didn’t matter if she connected, if the form disappeared, if it hurt like her night spent smoldering; she would do it, and do it again, and again; if the form disappeared and reappeared, she’d continue to lunge at it. The entire time, she screamed at it, tears and blood streaking off her face. “If it’s me you have a problem with, then take it out on ME! Graghhh! It’s not! My! Choice! The fire ruined my mind!” Her words were punctuated with punches and screams of rage as necessary. She was seeing red now; the setting no longer frightened her, the flames no longer dug into her psyche. She may be a merciless killer, but she was also a fiercely protective aunt. “You think I enjoy not knowing my life?! Fighting with visions? Being stuck in a fake fucking body? ARGH!!” Her screams now mixed in with desperate crying; the scream of a person whose family was taken from them, the screams of sorrow that inspired resistance, the screams of a broken woman. “I want my mind BACK too, you demon! Farah has nothing to do with it!” It was becoming hard to see through the tears and blood. She didn’t even know if she was hitting anyone or anything. Eventually, she would drop to a knee and grab her head before unleashing her most frustrated cry yet. “What. The HELL. Do you want. From. ME?!” She wiped her forearm across her eyes, and her next words came softly. “Tell me. Leave her alone, please. Just… tell me what you want.” |
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Post by Rinny on Sept 29, 2016 19:19:16 GMT
Welcome to your
The form would watch in silence as the mortal tried so desperately in vain to protect. To fix. The smoke being even remained in place as the mortal charged at her to throw a punch. Strike after strike, each passed through leaving the figure to merely stare on. There was only the lightest tilt of the head as the woman's anguish grew and grew. The intensity. The blind fury. The smoke figure was acutally able to wisp away and recollect behind her without the mortal even realizing.
Eventually the soul would fall to her knees, her fury bypassing for despair. Only then would the scenery change. Green grass. No longer would the government office floor flicker in fiery shadows. A soft breeze would send the grass flittering delicately, lightly kissing Caroline's balled up fists. If she were to open her eyes Dullahan would witness a peaceful hillside. Void of trees and sound other than the wind for as far as the eye could see. Above a blue sky with only the sparsest of white friendly clouds.
Finally, the mortal was kneeling before Her. The smoke would melt into gentle wisps once again. Circling the woman in gentle and delicate motions. There would no longer be multiple voices. It would be one. A females. A tone much softer than had previously be heard.
"It is good of you to know your place." The inflection began. The smoke curling around a strand of purple hair and giving it a soft playful tug. The pleading word of "please" had always been a favorite in this language. It showcased everything that it need to. Desperation. Begging. Politeness. And most of all, that She was the one in power.
To the right would be the scene of a distant Farah laughing as she ran through the grassy hills, playing with a dancing ribbon. A flower tiara in her hair and no sign of anything but joy. "The most beautiful creativity is usually derived, at its core, from personal experience." If Dullahan were to turn her head to her left, she would take witness to the goddess in Her natural form. Opgraven sitting upon His usual throne as Nevyne continued to weave a complex and beautiful floral arrangement of nothing but the brightest and most exotic forestry known to man. At closer glance to a well trained eye, quite a few of them were even unknown.
"However," The beautiful deity frowned, "Humans have discovered a technology that erases such memories, turning your artwork, your dreamscapes, to paler lackluster versions of their past selves." Turning for the first time to make direct eye contact, Nevyne's eyes glowed menacingly. "This has angered me. What I want from you," The Goddess said, leaning forward to very clearly enter Caroline's personal space, "is to stop this practice. I want you to remember who you are. And then I want you to destroy this abomination that has enraged me so." .... Then Nevyne would smile delightfully as She returned to Her floral craft with expert elegant motions, the deity's legs curled up daintily beside Her. "When you accept this quest, I shall reward you. When you accomplish this task I shall also reward you."
W O R D S *** M U S I C Pan's LabyrinthT A G Caroline Vorlan N O T E S Don't hesitate to ask me to rewrite anything. Playing your deity correctly is my primary goal above all else.
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Post by Caroline Vorlan on Sept 30, 2016 17:10:11 GMT
Notes 100% broken, good LORD Dully what the hell happened to you
| 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AND IT DID Dullahan’s gentle, desperate sobs ceased at the feeling of a gentle breeze. She opened her eyes and looked down to her hand. She let the blades of greenery run between her fingers, mouthing the word “what…?” Slowly, she looked up and around at the beautiful scenery. Where… how… Farah? Where was she? And at the sound of familiar laughing, her head snapped to that direction. She was… happy, and playing… no longer being torn. With a whimpering sigh, she dropped to her other knees, tension melting from her torso. She wobbled slightly as she bowed her head forward into her hands. She was okay… gods, she was okay, and happy, and beautiful. Silently, she wept into her hands, only pulling her head up at Nevyne’s voice. She wiped a tear from her eye and considered the woman. Classy, feminine, soft… and what the hell was that thing on her head? She eyed Opgraven cautiously for a few seconds, but it appeared to be… nonthreatening. For the moment. Slowly, she moved her eyes to Nevyne, her mouth slightly agape in astonishment at the shift in scenery. Was this one responsible for the firey scene she just endured? The smoke figure tearing her niece apart?! She went to make a fist, but only got halfway before unfurling it once more. The feeling of grass below reminded her that right now, Farah was okay. And she would do anything to keep this scene. Her face shifted from lingering sorrow to confusion; a device? Was she referring to her chassis? She didn’t have time to linger on the thought just yet before the woman pressed forward to her. She pulled her head back and away, and arm half-raising to be ready to shield herself. Her words, too, came as a surprise. She relaxed only when the other figure returned to her flower craft. “A device?” She finally said, her voice soft. There was no rage or defiance left in the woman, leaving only exhaustion and confusion. “I thought it was the fire that had ruined my mind. They… told me I would never recover from it.” She sounded unsure, and she was; this was only beginning to confirm what she had suspected for some time. The visions, the red tape, the vague answers, the documentation of her past mysteriously erased, save for some family photos… It wasn’t just her injuries, was it? A familiar part of her brain told her to tell this woman to fuck off, whoever she was; when did Dullahan take orders from people outside the government? She looked around at the scenery again. It was… peaceful. When was the last time she had felt this at ease? She didn’t even mind her submissive state to this person, which normally would have driven her to kill her. “You aren’t just toying with me,” she said, a statement, not a question. An… acceptance. “There’s something more to it. Something they did while … ‘saving’ me. Do other hosted humans dream normally? It’s not just my body doing this, is it?” She asked the question without looking at her. She stared off at nothing, now lost in her thoughts. This was… a lot to take in, even if she had suspicions before. Was she not… herself? Who was she before? It only took this small statement from Nevyne to turn her reality completely askew. She found herself questioning who she could trust, and why anyone would choose to erase memories? She shuddered at the implications. Who the hell is she, now, if not herself? The weight of her body fell to one side, and she leaned heavily in that direction, supported by an outstretched arm. “I… want to remember,” she said, after sitting in thought. “I want to know everything that happened. I… will do as you ask.” She didn’t even have to swallow her pride to say so; her mind was more rattled and unfocused than it had ever been. She seemed willing to aid Dullahan, at least on the surface. And the broker was already looking into the matter. |
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Post by Rinny on Sept 30, 2016 23:28:54 GMT
Welcome to your
"They lied." Would be Nevyne's simple answer to the mortal's mistaken concept on her situation. The tone wasn't cruel or amused. It was merely a stating of the truth while never once looking up from Her art. Simple and clean. The deity's fingers busied themselves in their craft with a precision and expertise that was truly mesmerizing. Every loop, knot, twist. As the weaving continued it became more apparent that the item within Her hands was being crafted into a crown.
The goddess didn't bother the mortal during their thinking process. Souls tended to be a bit boorish when confronted with facts. They didn't take the best to having their understandings of the world clarified or corrected. A touch slow on the uptake, that was Nevyne's experience with mortals. So She would wait. Cheerfully continuing Her intricate lattice work with such fragile ingredients. It wouldn't be until another gentle breeze set Nevyne's long hair elegantly tussling that Her gaze to turn to meet Dullahan's.
"Of course you will." Came the pleased reply. "Because Opgraven wishes it. Isn't that right, my sweetest?" Asked the deity as she, upon completing the final gentle knot, would reach up and place the floral crown upon the being's head.
....... The lesser god blinked twice.
"Hngg! You're just so cute!" Nevyne proclaimed with a joyful clapping of her hands as if the blinks were an audible answer. Perhaps there had been an exchange that had gone expressed in a silent manner? Who knew? Dullahan sure didn't. With a fond kind smile upon her features, her hands would raise to begin soothingly stroking one of Opgraven's limbs as if it were a strand of her hair.
Upon taking a moment to relax, enjoying the company of the one upon her head, Nevyne would meet eye contact once again. "You may remain here for the duration of your night's sleep if you wish. I'm sure it's preferred over your previous experiences." The goddess laughed lightly as if they were discussing Caroline having ketchup upon her blouse. "Now before I flutter off to my next dreamer, I promised you a reward upon accepting my quest." Nevyne said, leaning her head lovingly upon Oppy's leg. "I shall allow you to come with me but only for one showing." The deity's smile grew. "I will allow you free tickets to view one person's dreams. Any person you wish! Because I am a gracious goddess."
W O R D S *** M U S I C Pan's LabyrinthT A G Caroline Vorlan N O T E S Don't hesitate to ask me to rewrite anything. Playing your deity correctly is my primary goal above all else.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
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Post by Caroline Vorlan on Oct 4, 2016 2:28:29 GMT
Notes Nevvy/Oppy BFFs 4 evers | 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AND IT DID Well, that was the obvious answer, wasn’t it? And while she didn’t completely trust this woman… or goddess, really; she knew of the pantheon, even though she wasn’t an active worshipper. This could really only be Nevyne, the banshee goddess. She could be playing an elaborate trick but… why? Maybe it was just easier to believe that, instead of dealing with the idea that her entire reality could be based on a foundation of lies. But the easy path wasn’t one she ever took. She couldn’t hide her confusion as she addressed, and then sweetly decorated and spoke to the strange creature atop her head. It was best to just… keep quiet, really. Her brain had been under attack since the moment the nightmare started, and she was struggling to keep up; she wasn’t used to this… this mental strain, questioning things about her life, feeling vulnerable, and more or less submitting to an unknown person. She didn’t have much time to think on it, though. Preferred over her previous experiences… her fingers twitched, wanting to form fists. Wasn’t she the one who did that in the first place?! But another laugh from Farah calmed her; for her sake, she would do as the woman wished. Her anger turned to surprise at the sudden offer. A chance to view someone’s dream? She shifted a bit. “Anyone?” She echoed. The possibilities raced through her head. Perhaps Farah’s, to make sure she was okay? No, she dashed that idea away; no way was she going to bring Her any closer to her family. Maybe one of the magi leaders, to get a glimpse of information or weakness? The idea was tempting, but it didn’t stir her like she thought it should. No, her mind was on herself now. She gave Her a serious, confident look, back to her old self. “My father’s,” She stated. “Jorgen Enthaupten.” Maybe this would shed some light into her past. He was, after all, heavily involved in her … reconstruction. It could be a bust, but it was her best option now. |
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PLAYED BY god
Rinny
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Post by Rinny on Oct 5, 2016 6:41:12 GMT
Welcome to your
The deity waited with a patience that perhaps the earlier nightmare insinuated was outside of Her norm. However here Her face glowed with a gentle contentment. And why not? The mortal had agreed to accept her quest. The bothersome malpractice of erasing one's memories would hopefully no longer be a thorn in Her side. No longer would She have to deal with lukewarm limited imaginings disgracing Her realm.
And there was Oppy. The very presence of the lesser demigod always had a way of calming Her as well. After the necessary rage was completed of course. Nevyne's cheek affectionately rubbed against the leg. "That is what I said, yes." Mortals were silly in many rights and this was one of them. Funny how humans kept parrots as pets when they weren't much better themselves.
A breeze would carry a delicate scent through the scenery. Grass lightly tumbling, the teenage girl's laughter would be the only other sound to address the soft silence. As a few of Opgraven's back crustacean legs brushed through Nevyne's hair, the Goddess rose a brow. "Your father? I can do that." A seemingly kind smile would dress the deity's lips as she extended a hand. "Give us your hand and we could go there now if you'd like." Beside the human-looking hand would also showcase one of Opgraven's jointed legs. Obviously the mortal could choose one or the other.
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