PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Misha
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Post by Aiden Garnette on Aug 21, 2017 4:53:22 GMT
 Post"Wicked" Aiden Garnette"Fall asleep to lilac and chocolate, burnt in a skull. Put your desires and emotions to paper and use it for the kindling. Accept that you may not wake."The message was crystal clear; he knew there would be no going back from this moment. Make your case, perform the ritual, and prepare to accept whatever the goddess herself was prepared to mete out. Even for someone like him, contacting Nevyne with this particular request was openly inviting peril into his home. He reflected unto himself of the danger he was braving here as he held the lilac in his palm in a secluded part of the plains where he was certain to remain un-disturbed for the remainder of the evening, guarded by two undead he had awaken to guard him while he slept. His palms were sweating and there was the faint background beating of his heart that he had grown to ignore in his confidence and bluster. More and more, that sound was creeping closer like a faraway reaper encroaching on his turf. That fateful thrumming in his chest grew mournful as he solemnly performed the ritual to the desire and felt his eyelids were growing heavy, ready for the dream that would surely come. He wasn't going to retreat from this, nor was he going to quit right after he had steeled and resolved himself to this. He would see it through to the end, no matter what the cost. Now was the perfect time however and no other opportunity would likely present itself to him. He had seen the protests and all the chaos that was happening and if he was going to have the strength to take advantage of it, he would need greater power. The power he had discovered so far was not insignificant, but it always seemed like there was more on the horizon and tempted him to reach for more power and throw himself further into Opgraven's realm. Before being tortured, he had depended on himself to keep from going out too far and kept himself purely to raising the dead and using that to aid him. That frayed for a time and made Aiden feel withered before finding strength. He was a soldier through and through, his guiding light remaining as his ideals-to-be and the solemn allies he'd made to help him get through. It had tried him yes and sent him through many harrowing trials, but also emboldened him. And now he felt more ready then ever, even if this meant he would not wake again. Once his wish and desires had been written down and kindled, Aiden laid beside it and stared up at the stars. His thoughts went to his allies and everyone else that had aided him (and Kaveri too) before his eyes followed into slumber and the dreaming began. The world at first was swirled and unshapen but then began to form at the very edges of his consciousness before coalescing into tiny imaginary bubbles that floated amusingly in front of his dreaming eyes before disrupting all of a sudden in a fictional wind, transporting him further into whatever destination the goddess had in store for him.
Note: So sorry for the delay. I had to put this off for a little bit, but now it is written and ready when you are. [font color="FireBrick"][b]"Speech Here"[/b][/font] |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Sassy
| Goddess of Dreams and Dark Arts |
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Post by Nevyne on Aug 29, 2017 17:17:55 GMT
Welcome to your
Camlorn.
Camlorn suffered tremendously in the wake of the necromancers’ awakenings. Death, ruined buildings, widespread fires… it was akin to a warzone. The peaceful little town wasn’t built to withstand the ruination caused by violence and panic, and received little to no aid from the bigger cities, who were already working to cover up this disturbing event. It never did fully recover, nor would it. This is where Aiden would find himself. Camlorn.
Except… not exactly.
The town was freshly wounded in this scene, with not a soul in sight and only silence in sound. The buildings would be familiar to the dishonored man; the area in town was crafted from the places he saw during his awakening. The rest of town was crafted from the dreams of others, which fit oddly against Aiden’s perceptions; this was only natural, as no two people dreamt of the same scene the same way. If Aiden strayed from what was familiar, he would find disjointed signs where the dreams clashed, such as half of a ruined building being connected impossibly to a pristine version, untouched by the chaos, as if someone filled in half a pothole perfectly (using a slightly different concrete) and left the rest untouched. One block could be normal and whole, while the neighboring one could be freshly crumbled from flame, and a third may be in a various state of repair from the months following the event.
The sky was full of clouds, ranging in shade from grey to impossibly black, all swirling around like a lazy whirlpool. If there was a sun or moon beyond them, its light was blocked and form entirely obscured. Bits of smoke drifted lazily upward from still-burning fires, looking to join the circular dance. Ash rained down steadily in fluffy grey flakes, like the first gentle snowfall of winter.
The entire scene felt gray, as if any other colors were muted, as if the fires that burned did so with less intense oranges and reds, as if the abandoned cars had the vibrancy sucked from them, leaving only a partially saturated version of the colors it had once been. The only true pops of color were growths of lilac bushes. They were small, growing at random between a crack in the ground or a pothole or from the shattered windshield of a burnt-out bus. The purple blossoms were the only truly untouched color in the scene.
The air smelt faintly of chocolate and flame, with a hunt of mustiness one would find when opening an old book for the first time in a century.
Here, Aiden would wander the silent streets. Perhaps for minutes, perhaps for hours; any sense of time felt warped in this scene. There were no bodies, no corpses, no bones nor zombies, nor any sign that anyone had lived here at all. The silent city was devoid of both life and unlife, of sound and sense, of perception and reason.
No matter where Aiden wandered or explored, he would eventually come across a sole figure. Nevyne stood in the middle of a barren street, dressed in black, in the form of a pale child with sickly skin and tired eyes. Her skirt swished as she kicked a rock down the street, sending it skittering until it collided with a car with a dulled metallic “thunk!” She held a parasol in her hands, the handle made of bone and the top of an impossibly dark material. Her back would be to Aiden when he saw her, and she would give no indication of noting his arrival, save for when he got closer. Once he was perhaps twenty feet away, a voice would touch his ears, as if it came from some whispering demon peering over his shoulder.
“Recite your burned words,” the feminine (yet inhuman) voice hissed. “Repeat your desires.”
W O R D S 637 M U S I C xxx T A G Aiden Garnette N O T E S Tell me exactly what was written, at least OOC. Aiden doesn't HAVE to be honest but I need to know.
nightmare |
MADE BY VEL OF GS |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Misha
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Post by Aiden Garnette on Sept 22, 2017 2:28:40 GMT
Post"Wicked" Aiden Garnette Everything around him seemed to swirl and unravel as Aiden seemed to shift in his mind through bleeding illusions of a landscape in his dreamscape. The sensation of falling in this sort of dream was both a dark and invigorating feeling; he could faintly taste hints of a familiar, powerful presence crushing him alongside an enormous and overflowing amount of dreaming energy. That feeling enveloped and squeezed him in its grip, pulling in him before his consciousness blacked out and he was swallowed in blackness. The tints of lightly burnt chocolate and lilac put alongside the decay of death were all but forgotten with his physical body left behind as his consciousness was pulled and sucked away. Did it only last a second? Minute? Hour? He couldn't tell since all form of sensation in his mind was quashed like it was underneath a heavy stone and made him fight and struggle until the grasp let him free and he found himself facing down an old, familiar scene. Camlorn, just as reminiscent as it had been on the day he had first discovered his gift, but now tinged with the recognizable impressions of others. The buildings were only half what he could pull from his jogging memory. He didn't at first possess a visible form in that state, only a soul with an invisible consciousness that he beckoned to move at his will, pulled irresistibly towards a building that he half-recognized was the tavern crossed with someone's home and then to a bakery he had visited once or twice that was intertwined with machinations of a perfect farmhouse. Every few faint, illusory steps taken, he would suddenly be struck with inspiration or a pearl from his past of something that maybe he had only thought about once or twice in passing. Maybe he had seen a free bird fly overhead and stopped to watch it zip off or land up on a street sign. Now that one bird sat there, pecking at crumbs and offerings on the ground or off the pavement. It was much more.. unusual, but also distantly fitting and majestic too. As he wanderlusted through the intrinsic scenery, grasping at and absorbed in his own memories, Aiden felt himself become more established and aware as his own form came into light. It started with his consciousness tingling and first his face appeared that was soon accompanied by a head of white hair and the rest of his torso. Unlike his physical body in the real world however, this dream-state body had all his former limbs attached and looked as fleshy and real in this world as they had been in his boyhood. Unlike in life though, this world had scents and sounds that felt and seemed like they had been copy-pasted from somewhere he had known previously. The sweetening sound of shops opening and cooking became interlaced and nearly indistinguishable from the daily hoots and hollers that had once flowed freely through the town. Up in the far overhead sky, Aiden took his first glance towards the clouds with his newly-formed neck and at that point came to fully appreciate that he was once again in the interstice of Nevyne. No cloud coverings were coherent; the whole of everything that had come to be in this place was swathed and jumbled in a bucket sea of colors and visions with no visual purpose or intent in mind. If Kaveri were here, he would have to wonder what the little Magi would make of this place. It would certainly be amusing to watch him stumble around and make priestly quips about all the architecture and then they'd get into some kind of argument or banter along the way. In the distance as he neared the town center, Aiden sighted a lone child standing in the middle of the road with a skirt that appeared to him like it was sewn from shadow and an indistinct parasol. He approached cautiously, moving with a slight reverence in his step. Even to him, Nevyne evoked a sense of worry in him that was enough to subdue his usual snarky behavior and quips. Before meeting her and being gifted with the power of Necromancy, he hadn't even considered that another god besides Kalidas would even take notice of him, let alone feel interested enough to grant him power. As he neared her turned back and wasn't too far away, something seemed to snake up behind him in a smoky form and whisper in a voice that spooked him and caused even him to jump and cringe in his flesh. He had beaten powerful hunters without fear, wrestled nomadic Magi into submission as a hunter, and even taken a swing or two at Kaveri's usually stinging quips, but that moment even had him quaking like some demonic monster was ready to annihilate him at a moment's notice if he did not comply. Taking a deep breath to recover himself, Aiden steeled his heart and openly stated his written words aloud. "I wish... my goddess... for the power and the strength to bring about the greatest and most needed change in this world. To escape, cut, and combat the strings of puppetry that bind us all. The strings of our own hubris that has sunk into our society and our government to be silenced in revolution. I am your humbled necromancer... and with all my will I ask this of you in solemn pledge."
Note: [font color="FireBrick"][b]"Speech Here"[/b][/font] |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Sassy
| Goddess of Dreams and Dark Arts |
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Post by Nevyne on Sept 25, 2017 19:19:59 GMT
Welcome to your
As she thought.
Her expression was a perfect blank, and remained so as she slowly turned around to consider him with only the slightest tilt of her head. He was not the first necromancer who asked for this power. He was not the first mortal to believe he could use power to fix what he saw as problems. He would not be the last of either.
At least he had the good sense to kneel.
As a follower, Aiden did what was expected; he paid reverence, showed gratitude, and knew his place. But like all the others, he had the unfortunate flaw of being mortal; some things could not be fixed, and so some patience had to be exercised when dealing with them. She much preferred the company of her fellow deities, but one had responsibilities.
“Needed.” The voice now came from inside Aiden’s ears, and took on the tone of a young girl. Nevyne’s mouth did not move, nor did her expression waver; she only continued to stare at him with impossibly bright blue eyes. “What is needed in the world? Order? Chaos? Freedom? Restriction?” Each word of the list would alternate in his ears, one word in his left, then in his right.
She took a step towards him.
“What is the goal?” In his left. “What is best?” In his right. She took another step.
“Who has the answer?”
Another step.
“Is there an answer?”
Another.
“What is needed?”
Another step put her an arm’s length from Aiden. The scene around them stopped: The swirling clouds halted. The lilac bushes stood like stone. Ashfall froze in mid-air. Fire and smoke held still, a painting against a background of grey. And for the first time since the beginning of the dream, Nevyne used her mouth to speak.
“Do you believe you know? You are not the first.” Even her childlike voice seemed to boom against the perfect silence of the city around them. Without giving him time to reply, she continued. “Stand,” she commanded. She regarded him for a moment, then outstretched her hand with the parasol towards him, offering the handle to him in an obvious gesture.
“Come. This is not alone my decision.”
Upon grasping the parasol, the fabric would melt down like a black curtain, covering the scene of Camlorn with perfect darkness. And yet Aiden and Nevyne remained visible, despite the lack of a light source or… anything. Anything at all.
There was nothing in the void. Yet on nothing they stood, as if it were solid ground. The parasol was gone. Nevyne took a long step back and closed her eyes. There was nothing but stillness for an impossible to determine length of time. Time did not exist in the void. Space did not exist. Form did not exist.
As it turned out, there was one thing that did exist in the void, and only one.
A voice.
“Mortal,” it said, rumbling and deep like the unexplored depths of the ocean, or the unknown bottom of an earthquake’s fissure. “What is needed in your world? How does the one before me seek to make change?”
nightmare |
MADE BY VEL OF GS |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Misha
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Post by Aiden Garnette on Nov 12, 2017 3:27:30 GMT
Post"Wicked" Aiden Garnette There was an almost suffocating quality to being in her presence, he noticed. Just like before, being in the dream made him feel like his mind and body were moving through a swell of mud and his lips were drier than his tongue could lick. As the curtain of darkness flew down over him and the heavy voice burst up from the bottoms of the abyss, Aiden's mind began to wander deep again and re-dredge up the reasons he had for coming to this point. This had been in the works for a long time... perhaps it had always been inevitable. As it just so happened, Aiden had long pondered that exact question for days on end in his exile to the fringes of society. Ever since departing the Hunter's guild, there had been times where he wondered: what was he ever going to do to change anything? Would he just continue to undermine the guild, struggling against the tides that clearly just wanted him washed up on the shoreline? Would he just give up and settle down somewhere to live in obscurity? These questions brought him to the brink of his humanity and the ends of his mortality just thinking about them, musing over whether they did indeed possess an answer he knew not. However...He couldn't stop now. Leaving the status quo to go on unchallenged in this time was complacency, not an answer. There were other things to think about as well; losing his leg due to his own carelessness and the endless badgering of what kind of world awaited him after his actions were completed. He was about as able as before, but it still wasn't enough. The government and the guild were still the ones holding all the power and he was relegated to little more than a fugitive. But that was not an acceptable reason for doing nothing. Not when the recent highly-publicized Ethean government crackdown had given him the perfect opportunity to act in the coming days and strike while the flames were still alive and well. The embers were still simmering and his actions could turn the world on its head. He didn't know if it was the thing that would be best for the world, but he had long settled on the ideology that in order to make an omelet, he would have to break a few eggs. The ex-hunter's dream-like face remained stoic and empty of emotion, but he didn't need to smile to convey the red-hot feelings that were boiling and steadily simmering up inside him. "I don't need to make change, only channel what is there already. This world is fighting for that very same thing right at this very moment and the society we live in has already provided me with the fuel. All it needs is for a spark to be lit at the right place when the time comes and an instrument to ignite it and a figure to stand up for it and let it burn. Someone to make a bold statement at the right time and at the right place. I want the power to let that figure be me."His backbone stiffened and he held out his breath, readied for whatever answer was to come. "What I want is a reset, a chance to upset the ones holding all the power and make them piss themselves. The ability to cast this world into the void and then use the will that is there to remake the world. I could be leaving this world a worse-off place or I could be making it better. Staying put however... that is not something I'm willing to accept. I and many other people have allowed the abuses to stay and go unanswered, but not this time."
Note: Apologies for letting this go for a long time. I lost this post twice and got unhealthily frustrated so it took me a bit of time to work up the nerve to suck it up and rewrite it thrice but I did it. May not be extremely long or my best work, but it's finally here after a whole month. Terribly sorry again for making you wait 6 weeks for this post. [font color="FireBrick"][b]"Speech Here"[/b][/font] |
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