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 Female x Male The Repercussions of Failure {VacantlyHopeful x Crazy Shady}

Discussion in 'Roleplay Execution' started by Crazy Shady, Feb 2, 2019.

  1. Crazy Shady

    Crazy Shady Lazy Necromancer Member

    Messages:
    330
    Local Time:
    8:14 AM
    Nothing. It had been what greeted Alistar when he was cast aside, tumbling off the bridge and into the valley below. Nothing save what he had lost, plummeting down and slapping wetly onto his marred armor. He wasn't sure who they were, nor did he care. All he knew was that they had bested him, storming the estate's plateau and raiding the compound as he plummeted below. The only thing awaiting him at the bottom was trash, refuse, and the bodies of his fallen brethren. He had fought the longest, certainly, cutting down a handful on his own before someone of a caliber beyond grunt chose to end the charade of hope that Alistar was performing on the bridge. Battered and broken, Alistar had laid there, not conscious to do anything on his own. All he that he could do was embrace the numbness engulfing him as death crept up for him. Unfortunately, the defeated and dishonored knight would not be granted peace. He had woken in a hut, barely big enough for two to live in, but not due to size.

    A hermit had been sitting next to a crude fireplace, idly carving into stone with a knife. The blade was gliding as if the stone was butter, but that was not what Alistar noticed. What he lost had been replaced, an eerie construct of bone, stone, and metal attached to his shoulder. The hermit spoke in disjointed phrases but the gist was passed across: Alistar was a fallen knight, arisen through old magic and made whole through a new form of magic called technology. The arm moved with Alistar's thoughts, as a normal limb, and though he was physically whole, the trauma of his loss and the magic to bring him back always takes something in return. Names were not paired with the blurry faces in his mind, and once again, the numb feeling of nothingness crept into his thoughts.

    The hermit permitted him to leave, on a single condition: Alistar had to repay his debt by taking a young woman -assumedly the hermit's apprentice- with him. With no other choice, Alistar accepted, though he was swayed but a whisper of clarity from the hermit: the girl was his -in all ways- until they returned. And thus the two simply wandered. Alistar's body still obeyed him completely. There was no loss of function. But even the fallen knight noticed his movements would seem disjointed and sluggish in appearance alone. To him, it felt natural. And, after weeks of wandering in circles, Alistar found that it certainly was natural. Bandits had accosted them along the road, demanding the remains of his possessions. His blade moved normally, his footwork was normal. But he could tell from the screams of the frightened bandits that it was not normal. Whatever was left of the man who fell from the bridge had been left in that valley with the trash.....



    Today was a day in which Alistar felt numb. Not even a full day away from the hermit, it felt as if he was back in the valley. There was nothing special about this day in particular. The sky was overcast, but no rain spilled to the ground. The sun was hidden, despite the general assumption of noon. It was simply a day of nothing for Alistar. His sense of touch would be nearly gone. His steps would cause him to stumble, and his eyes would beg for sleep, despite the fact that he slept as well as he could the night before. Thus, Alistar did not make it far from where they had started the day. A grove had entered their path, and thus the nothingness filling him forced his march to a halt. He simply stumbled across the grove to a tree and pressed his back against it before allowing his weight to drag him to the ground forcefully.

    To a passerby, it would almost look at if he was asleep or dead. His left leg was splayed out as if it was dropped to where he sat, while the other was bent, the sole of his foot still on the ground. Across the raised knee, the accursed prosthetic he was 'gifted' rested like the arm of a marionette, thus being the only thing that gave away the limb under his armor was not natural. His hooded head rested against the false arm, thus completing the illusion of rest or sleep. But the nothingness he felt did not rob him of sensibility. His blade was still drawn resting largely in between his outstretched leg and the ground, hiding almost completely in view. If they were attacked, he would still be able to deal with the threat. Or at least, he thought as much.

    @VacantlyHopeful
     
  2. VacantlyHopeful

    VacantlyHopeful Wild Member Moderator

    Messages:
    16
    Local Time:
    9:14 AM
    She had not heard that whisper. She had been taught how to properly care for the fallen knight, but not how to control him. She had not been prepared for his moods, but she took everything with a bit of a smile and a deep breath. It was worth it, right? The hermit was one of the best in his craft, and the arm he had given the man -- Alistar - was a thing of beauty. So this little trial and adventure was worth whatever was coming to her so that she could learn at his feet. Dora was not a simple girl. She was talented in her own right, and had a good, strong head on her shoulders. She didn't shy away from challenge and adventure, and made every experience one that she could learn from. Even this, though, was frustrating.

    Having lived with and learned from the hermit, she'd been used to fits of mood and being alone. He was not one for great company and did not often have conversations with her, so silence was an old friend. So much an old friend that she was capable of holding entire conversations in her head on her own. She did that most of the day, keeping a journal at night of their travels and adventures. During the day, she traveled with him, holding her face up to the sun so that it was soon brown with exposure, and the color of her hair, already light, was bleached even more from the sun, dancing with bits of cinnamon if the light happened to hit it correctly. Freckles, like so many specks of dirt, dotted her cheeks and nose, brought out even more by the sun exposure.

    She knew his name, and she'd said hers once while traveling, but it was -- mostly -- a companionable silence. She was the slightest bit fearful of him, only because she had been told there was a chance of side effects of all the magic that had been worked in his brain. Nothing as of yet had happened to her, and until she had to defend herself from him, there would be no fear. The meeting with the bandits had been interesting, and it had started her brain ticking and working on how she could possibly defend herself if the need arose.

    When they settled on the ground in the grove, she sat underneath a tree, away from him but with an eye still on him. The legs of her pants, much more convenient for traveling in, were rolled up to her knees and stuck out in the sun. Hopefully they would soon be able to match the color of her face from sun exposure. Hands pushed up on her sleeves, and she lay down on the grass, closing her own gray eyes and attempting to block out the world around her. It was funny how silence made things so much louder: the birds, the wind, even the blades of grass. With no speaking, the world was louder.

    She folded her arms underneath her head, face shaded by the tree, but the rest of her body being warmed by the air. It was overcast and cloudy, so there was no sun out right now, but it was still warm enough to be relaxing. It was almost a pretty picture: her resting underneath the tree, a strong soldier on the ready defense to take care of himself and his ward. That is, at least what the appearance would suggest to anyone who didn't know better. Dora felt almost cozy. Almost.

    @Crazy Shady

     
  3. Crazy Shady

    Crazy Shady Lazy Necromancer Member

    Messages:
    330
    Local Time:
    8:14 AM
    Alistar did not know how much time had passed, but he did know that he had lost focus, blanking out into some kind of void. He felt simultaneously weightless and incredibly dense. The sensation was not a pleasurable one, to say the least. It was an added bit of discomfort and confusion on top of the aftereffects of his renewed life. It was long and agonizing. The sounds were gone for him, the feel of the breeze did not register, and even the taste of the air did not exist as he delved into a semi-unconscious state. It was enough to rattle the 'man'. By the time he began to perceive the world again, there was a creeping fear all too similar to the one he felt as he fell before. His eyes opened, blurred vision fading in between impossible vision and the ability to recognize shapes. But touch was still gone from him.

    The fingers on his accursed limb began to twitch, the joints of the fingers began to skitter and bend in ways that a natural hand would not be able to mimic. But even that feeling was only 'natural' even if he could not feel the fingers hitting the metal of his leg armor. The skittering sound was dull, muted, and seemingly far away, with the rumbling against his armor akin to thunder that was miles away. It did not help to assuage Alistar's fear. In fact, it only deepened it. Perhaps this was all some horrid torture that his soul was being forced through for failing to do his job and uphold his honor. The concept remained in his head, but the will to uphold it was only a passing feeling. A memory more than anything else, even a drive. But regardless, it was still enough to cement the concept of this being his eternal torture in his mind. He did not dare try to move right now, thinking it would only start a new torture.

    An idea came to his mind. If this was truly his afterlife, then he could confirm as much with the woman that traveled with him. If he could feel her, notice with his own hands that she was real, then he would still be alive and real, still on the earth that he walked before the fall. Whether or not that was the favorable outcome was something he would have to figure out later. "Girl..." Alistar said quietly, little more than a whisper on his gravely voice. "Dora. Come here." He did not move, nor did he elaborate. He was attempting his best to not corrupt this experiment of his with other stimuli. He would move only when her footfalls stopped in front of him. But of course, a vestige of his past had to at least give reason for his sudden desire to speak. "Please, I need to know what is real..." he added a few moments later, finally stilling his damnable arm's incessant twitching and skittering.
     
  4. VacantlyHopeful

    VacantlyHopeful Wild Member Moderator

    Messages:
    16
    Local Time:
    9:14 AM
    She had actually fallen asleep, enjoying the heat on her legs and the small bit on sunshine that had been peeking itself through the clouds. She rested still, her arms folded underneath her, breathing shallow. How horrible it would be, wouldn't it, to not be able to feel things, and hear things? What a dramatic change it would be as well, to go from who he had been before to who he was now. It was one of those things that she thought about when her mind wasn't preoccupied...how it must be to have to get used to this new way of life.

    At first, her attention was only startled by the way he addressed her...girl. She expected no more or no less, really. Her lashes fluttered as her attention was called to him, but she didn't move or stir otherwise. As her senses came flooding back to her from her nap, she stretched her toes briefly. Then, when he said her name, she moved her way over to him and then settled in front of him, once more sitting down, her legs crossed underneath her as she settled in front of him. She thought it might be less intimidating that way. Her head tilted to the side, confused, when she heard him speak, but she nodded and held out a hand, palm up, so that he could touch her if that was what he needed.

    "I am here. I'm not sure what I can do to help you, but that is what I'm here for." Her own voice was soft, a whisper on the wind, rocky from lack of use. It would be musical, if she cleared her throat and adjusted it to her normal speaking volume. Instead, like she was at the side of a sick bed, she kept it soft.

    @Crazy Shady
     
  5. Crazy Shady

    Crazy Shady Lazy Necromancer Member

    Messages:
    330
    Local Time:
    8:14 AM
    Alistar's vision was still lost to him for the most part, so even when she sat in front of him, he could not see more than the general color change of her in front of him. Out of instinct, his stone arm was the first to move, his dominant right arm moving to attempt to feel. But he caught himself. It was something new and something wretched. He could not trust it to tell him if this nightmare was reality or not. Thus, the prosthetic arm dropped to his side and he shifted where he sat. His left hand left the sword and reached up and forward. He could not see her hand, and thus he reached forward towards the vague difference in color. It took longer than he had expected, depth being robbed from him without even knowing. All it did was extend his torment.

    But then his fingers brushed against her hair ever so slightly. It was barely registered, like a slight breeze to him. But it was enough to allow him to correct. His calloused hand soon found it's way to the right slightly and came to rest against her cheek. Slowly, feeling began to seep into his mind as his hand gently cupped her cheek. A single note chuckle -perhaps just an exhale- of relief left his lips as his hand moved slightly against her face. He was not in some torturous afterlife after all. He was sure that there was no way to replicate the true feeling of the gentle flesh of the finer gender. "So this is real..." he said softly, voice sounding like a scratch against stone. His internal jubilation, however, soon passed away. His hand stilled on her face as realization hit him. This was no nightmare. This was his lot in life now was. A waking hell for him to wander. His mind flickered from there, jumping from fear to anger to some sort of rationalization and back again.

    It was his trick and his fault. The hermit had played with his body and left the soul tainted by whatever was across the veil. It was infuriating. Without even realizing it, his hand moved to Dora's throat and latched on tight, closing her windpipe suddenly. "He left me in the abyss," Alistar finally said, vision beginning to clear as the applied pressure -and thus sense of touch- stayed constant. He pulled Dora closer towards him, giving his slowly returning eyesight a clear look at her once again. "And sent you to tempt or watch me." He stared into Dora's eyes, his own betraying an anger bubbling from a void within. "But he chose his words poorly," he added, the anger turning cold and roiling within the windows to what was left of his soul.
     
  6. VacantlyHopeful

    VacantlyHopeful Wild Member Moderator

    Messages:
    16
    Local Time:
    9:14 AM
    At first, it was okay. She flinched the slightest bit when he brushed her hair, the intimacy of the motion more scary to her than anything else she'd witnessed so far. She took a deep, steadying breath as his hand cupped her cheek, steadying herself. Lashes fluttered, and when his hand stilled against her, her internal thoughts expressed that everything was okay. No big deal, he was just exploring his sense of touch. The hermit had warned her that his thought and feelings were different, that his senses may be altered, just to be patient.

    At his first words she nodded, her voice soft. "Very real. We're surrounded by reality." But she had barely gotten the words out when his hand reached to her throat and wrapped around it, and her eyes widened. She reached fingers up to claw at his hand, and when that was unsuccessful, she attempted to remove his hand with both of hers, trying her hardest not to struggle and make the situation worse for her. She wanted to reply to what he was saying, and parted her lips, but she couldn't get enough breath to respond. Instead she just stared into his eyes with her own full of fear, continuing to claw at and hit his hands.

    Maybe she'd pass out soon, from fear or lack of oxygen. Would he kill her then, leave her for dead in this copse of trees? Or would he just let her come to before torturing her again. This was the first time she'd been fearful for her life with him, although she had been very careful with him up to this point.
     
  7. Crazy Shady

    Crazy Shady Lazy Necromancer Member

    Messages:
    330
    Local Time:
    8:14 AM
    Alistar's muttering had devolved down into the point that it was more or less silent, he was losing himself to his anger. He was almost ignorant to the fact that he still had Dora by the throat. He was still going through the processes of understanding that this is now his life, this nightmare was what was real now. Though in general, he was taking his misfortune out on her, there was a part of him that thought that perhaps he should stop soon so that she would not collapse. He did not have to make the decision however, as they were not the only beings in this forest.

    The hunters were having a normal day. They had decided to spend the week in the wild, green tanning hides and salting any meat that they managed to get, until either their bags were completely full or the week was up. They were an experienced pair. One of them had been searching these woods for the past 30 years. The other was a huntress' kid, and had been on the hunt for his entire 25 years alive. They both knew how to defend against wolves and how to convince a bear they were not worth it. But what they were not expecting to find was a armored beast preying on a woman. Without hesitation, the younger of the two chose to act, pulling back an arrow and letting it fly into the shoulder of the arm that was at the monster's side. The elder of the two simply sighed and drew a short blade -bigger than a dagger but certainly not a long sword- in an attempt to show aggression and protect the younger of the two.

    And just like that, the muttering stopped completely. The arrow vibrated in the shoulder, blatantly going just underneath the shoulder plating of Alistar's armor. But nothing changes save for the muttering. It was not that he did not feel it, as it seems the hermit was 'kind' enough to ensure that his new accursed limb was able to feel everything, even if it did not medically function the same. After internalizing the pain, Alistar released Dora in the same movement of his real limb returning to his blade. The two to his flank had struck him, and it only felt right that he should cut them down. His blade was scooped up into his hand before he began to stand. His movement to his feet was surely horrifying. As if he was an oversized puppet that had been discarded once and now picked up again on invisible strings. He did not even bother to remove the arrow from the surface of the stone that was the prosthetic. Instead, he fell into a stance: his right side forward, accursed arm limp in front of him, while his blade was in his left hand, slightly back and pointed to the ground. He was ready to pounce, even if this stance did not reflect his formal training. He simply waited, wanting to see what these fools chose to do moving forward.
     

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