Sweet Dreams Nocturne (Blue!)

Post by **Windra** » Mon Apr 03, 2006 2:57 am

<div style="text-align:center">Time: Sometime after midnight. Before dawn ... after the meeting of Arthaios, an hour or two before leaving the Fields to progress to the Caverms. 
Location: Lost Fields, edge. 
 
 
-- 
 
There are things inside you that no one wants to face - things that you keep secret, even from yourself. But secrets are funny. The things that you try to hide always turn out to be the things you can't forget. 
 
 
~Dead Like Me~ 
 
--</div> 
 
 
 
 
One night when I was young and ... well ... alive ... Elisa, then only four-years old, came into my room and she'd been crying. Her face was all red from tears. She told me that she had a nightmare, and wanted to know why she dreamt bad things? Was that proper? 
 
Ashowan was roosting back in the tree ... eyes dulled and half-lidded as they stared out over the empty fields of the dead. She didn't know for sure what were held within the grounds of this place ... if there were indeed bodies of the deceased buried under the grounds, laid to rest. But she could definitely feel the teeming energy of the lost souls that wandered here, invisible to all. Even to her. Even to a grim reaper of souls. 
 
Their energy fed into her, shocked her nerve endings and buzzed her brain. Even Terry felt them, for the graveling was running around now like a child who ate too many cookies. 
 
Graveyard vibes. 
 
The odd euphoria some felt when relieving a body of its spirit, magnified by at least ten. 
 
It would last for the first couple of visits to these fields ... because Ashowan would definitely come back. For All Saint's Day and her own Death Day Anniversary, what better place to be ... than with your kin? With people who were dead like you? 
 
But after some visits, those feelings would taper off, and Ashowan would be normal around the Fields ... though she'd still get that tingling sensation in her fingers. 
 
But even high measures of energy had to give way to fatigue at some point or another. And Ashowan hadn't slept in hours ... She was up and running about the City since three in the morning. Yesterday morning. And slowly, her eyes began to droop. 
 
Whether she willed them to, or not. There was a reason she had been trying to stay awake. 
 
I told her it would go away. The nightmares were temporary ... they couldn't hurt her. The never would. And they'd go away. Just ignore them, Elly. Big sis is here for you. 
 
The vision of the Fields faded into the world behind her eyelids. Terry skimmed by her skull from the left, shrieking ... but it wasn't enough to pull her out of this sleep world. 
 
Slowly, slowly, the black began to shift. Ashowan felt for a brief moment like she was being lifted up, lightened to the weight of a feather, and then the visions started. 
 
Nearly two centuries later, I should be following my own advice. But ... 
 
Dreams. No, nightmares. 
 
It was always the same. 
 
Warped images of a past she failed miserably at. 
 
Herself, throat cut and on the ground, trying in vain to crawl away, to get help, while the life's blood spilled out of her. In a room. Alone ... her killer fleeing. Her Jacob, the one she thought cared ... and the one she'd been told to love. Taught to love, thanks to her parents primping her on proper 'womanly duties'. 
 
Elisa getting cornered by that same man weeks later, and Ashowan taking her part as a ghost in protecting her, posessing the killer. Forcing him out ... But it was in vain. Elisa's face slowly shifted, grew older. The bright blue eyes and pale cheeks drowned into the face of an old woman, drained of energy, devoid of emotion and life. Then the face shifted again ... became a graveling, who bore its razor teeth, snarled, and lunged. 
 
Elisa the graveling faded ... 
 
Onto Greenwood ... 
 
The home Ashowan grew up in faded away into black. The rug floor became a paved road, the walls becoming houses. She was standing ina street somewhere. A dark street in the middle of a town with no businessmen strolling down the sidewalks. No cars rolling past. No kids running skipping playing. It was night here. It was always night here. 
 
Images left and right ... things flashed by ... people? Or things that were darker? 
 
From the shadows ... a menacing grin. A trapjaw, then it vanished. There was a rumbling laugh trailing after it. 
 
Ashowan ... 
 
... shuddered. Both in the dream and real life. Her form was huddled in a branch, holding the staff tighter, knuckles turning white in the biker gloves. Her eyes shifted behind their lids, soft whispers/whimpers escaping her lips 
 
The coat was wrapped around as the only source of warmth possible, because it suddenly became very cold. Though it was only her nerves acting up ... it always felt like something more. 
 
It was always like this. 
 
But ... how do you fight off a memory? You can't change fact, stop things from happening again and again and again. I of all people should know ... Nightmares can sometimesbe held back. Memories could not. 
 
Ah ... just think ... when the Death Day comes! 
 
I'd rather be exorcised then go through that for the 163'rd ... no, 164'th time. 
 
 
 

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div> Edited by: <A HREF=http://p082.ezboard.com/bunicornsvision ... >Windra</A> at: 4/2/06 18:05

Post by **Blue** » Wed Apr 05, 2006 9:26 pm

The mountains had released their call on him for a time, and Rishcath was going to take that time to look around the area. If one did not know what was around them they were as good as blind he believed. Often this was true. Whole armies could be defeated simply because they did not understand the layout of the land, where to gain access to water and food, or simply due to injuries brought on by rough landscape. It was during his wanderings that he ran into Ashowan. 
 
She was alone, sitting in a tree, asleep, seemingly, and Rishcath smiled to himself. Now here was one that intrigued him, for he had seen that she could not be killed, Ashowan was already dead. How strange. Then again, he chuckled to himself, there were stranger things. Rishcath moved through the shadows, feeling that Ashowan was due some... investigation. 
 
Slowly, he allowed his form to gain some physical solidity and he called out through the shadows... 
 
"One so young in the world that is Now, why so weighted down by sorrows." Said one voice, warped by shadows. 
"When the time comes, will you stand strong child? Or will you fail as you must have before death?" Yet another voice seemed to call out. 
"You are a disgrace to whom you call family, they will never love you." 
"If you believe you can protect your friends you are horribly mistaken." 
"They will not live Ashowan, and you know it. You will watch as they grow old and die, as their children grow old and die, and their children, and their children's children, and all the while you will ask yourself 'was there something I could have done?' You will ask yourself this because you are weak" 
 
He stepped out of the shadow, showing himself as he walked, almost glided, closer to Ashowan. His steps were silent, and his movements made not a sound. Rishcath's eyes shone out of the darkness for mere moments, before they once more vanished into the black abyss under his hood. 
 
"Why so troubled child?" He asked, for a moment, his voice seemed softer, kinder, a more gentle tone in it, almost as if he truly cared that she was in pain. His words were, perhaps, a little less cold then what they were normally, but was it all just an act? 
 
"When the night is old, and a new day dawns on a life scared and weak, all know that life has continued on."

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>

Post by **Windra** » Fri Apr 07, 2006 11:43 am

The creature Ashowan saw fleeting through the shadows of the long abandonned streets of Greenwood, New York, was the warped image of her own murderer. The distorted vision of Jacob, twisted to the grotesque styleof whatever held power over that remote town ... the town Ashowan and her gang had been foolish enough to venture into, thinking they could 'brave the storm' and push onward into the town. Farther than any other renegade reaper could go ... more daringly than anybody else ... 
 
But that was a town like no other. What it did ... It took the horrible memories of one's past and warped them, changed them ... The further Ashowan and her gang got into the town, the more times they were faced with their own inner demons. The faces of their pasts ... 
 
It was dumb to even consider going into the village. Especially when even the gravelings wouldn't step a foot near the town's perimeter. 
 
Because when death-dealers are afraid, there's usually a very good reason for it. 
 
Nonetheless, the creature Ashowan saw ... She only encountered it once in the town. But the meeting had been horrifying. Traumatizing. The creature ... she referred to it as either Trapjaw or Jacob, depending ... visited her in her dreams frequently. A bitter memory. And though it could never bring harm to her again, it still scared the hell out of her. 
 
Trapjaw's steel maw glinted in whatever dim light there was ... Behind a telephone pole, then a lampost. It grinned, seemed to mock her, then jumped so that it stood behind a swinging wooden sign ('Mr. Mekenzi's Medicinal Herbs!'). Then ontot he porch of a house, in the middle of the street, under steps, behind a window peering out, with malicious milky white eyes. 
 
And once, just once, directly behind her. Stretching out a knife-sharp claw to her backside, but vanishing the moment Ashow swung on her heel. 
 
Ashowan breathed deeply. 
 
If this was all a dream, then why was she so afraid? 
 
Maybe because it would haunt her over and over and over and over again. Would there ever be a release from it? Couldn't somebody help her? 
 
No ... never. There was never a hero. 
 
You couldn't save something that was already lost. Stop something that had already played out. It was too late to be saved. Too late for a rescue. 
 
The steel jaws clacked together somewhere to her left. The sound of running feet - long claws striking the pavement - then it was to her right. Northeast, then southwest, then due south ... 
 
A voice. But it was different. 
 
"One so young in the world that is Now, why so weighted down by sorrows?" 
 
It was deeper ... Jacob's voice, when the beast in her nightmares spoke, was always light, somewhat milky, but ominous. In its own way seductive, but in such a way that it would make one cringe away in fear. This voice, though, was cold. Dark. Low. 
 
"When the time comes, will you stand strong child?" 
 
Child ... gah ... she hated being called that. Tom always ribbed her by calling her 'Squirt', Jack and Cheryl called her 'Kiddo', and Mikhail had once or twice dubbed her 'Little One'. Never child. 
 
Oh yeah ... She knew who was talking now. But the voice ... or voices? came from different directions. Trapjaw seemed to vanish in the dark, his presence drowned out by Ashowan's concentration on the source of the voice. Was it within the dream? Why would she have a nightmare involving the shadow demon? 
 
The words came out from the dark. Taunting. Insulting. And hitting a mark every single damned time. 
 
"You are a disgrace to whom you call family, they will never love you." 
 
"If you believe you can protect your friends you are horribly mistaken." 
 
"They will not live Ashowan, and you know it. You will watch as they grow old and die, as their children grow old and die, and their children, and their children's children, and all the while you will ask yourself, 'Was there something I could have done?' You will ask yourself this because you are weak." 
 
Pow-zoom, right in the kisser. 
 
It was liek somebody shoved a dagger in Ashowan, where it hurt the most. And twisted it. Every word ... almost every single word that was spoken was true ... How could she help anybody, when the duty fo a reaper was to be as the fly upon the wall, to hold back and keep from helping? 
 
"All I'm saying," Eugene, a reaper from Maine, once told her, "is do not get up and start moving things around. You know somebody's appointment. Mess around, and you ... you might just change somebody's fate." 
 
"Is that bad?" 
 
"It messes with the system, and the system hates sabotage." 
 
So much for playing the hero ... 
 
Greenwood shattered. The dream-image of nightmare steets and darkened houses with windows that peered into lifeless and long-abandonned kitchens, living rooms, bedrooms, bathrooms ... shops that were once filled with customers .. lamposts that hadn't seent he light of day for years ... broke away. 
 
Ashowan awoke. Her eyes fluttered a few times, adjusting to the night vision of the fields below her, around her. The dead trees 'whoooooo'-ed in a ghostly manner wiht the wind. The air was still damp with rain, the moisture clinging to her skin like a moth to a light. Ashowan's right hand was growing numb, and she relaxed it's death grip on the staff to, shifting her legs so that they were no longer aching with her position in the tree branch. Tail twiched, claws flexed. She yawned, then listened. 
 
Nothing. 
 
Maybe it was just a dream? 
 
No. It was suddenly a bit cold ... and there was something nearby. Ashowan could not hear anything significant move, but she felt something there. Something in the dark. The sudden bright gleam of white eyes not too far away confirmed her suspicions. 
 
Rishcath. 
 
She'd met the demon twice before. Once while greeting the Dark and Ice phoenixes, and a second time when meeting the ghost girl, Shadow. Both times Rishcath had been icy, cold, and dangerous. And both times, Ashowan had the distinct feeling that he was no good. She didn't like him from the start. 
 
Trust reaper intuition. 
 
She huddled deeper into the jacket to fend off the odd chill that came with Rishcath's presence. The cold she felt while dreaming wa sstarting to fade, her nerves calming down ... or going rapid-fire on her. The graveyard vibes started up again once she was awake, traveling into her fingers and up into the rest of her body. Giving a much-needed super charge that had her go from tired to energized in seconds. 
 
Graveyard vibes could be fun. Great. A caffeinated atmposphere. 
 
Or they could be a curse. People looking for sleep might end up playing insomniac because of the vibes. 
 
Rishcath spoke again. Almost ... calming? Soothing? Hardly. 
 
"Why so troubled, child? When the night is old, and a new day dawns on a life scared and weak, all know that life has continued on." 
 
Ashowan chuckled to herself darkly. Frowning inwardly. Her green eyes, bright and beautiful in their own respect, looked about for the death-dealer. Where'd Terry go? If she was about to speak to Rishcath on a dark night in the middle of bloody nowhere, when she'd hardly met anybody else save for some very whacky, but very interesting and cool characters ... in partly bloody clothes and with a highly revealing gash in her silk shirt-front that made her grateful for bras and the coat to cover the slice ... with nothing but a wooden staff, a switchblade, and her own fists to defend herself. 
 
And no way of getting help if she needed it ... 
 
Well, it wasn't a favorouble environment to speak with something so ... dangerous. Possibly dangerous, anyways. 
 
Ashowan wanted the graveling's company about now, so at least something she knew was close at hand, if danger arose. 
 
Even though Terry was likely to flee from a fight then join in. 
 
"You could have just said, 'Hello'," Ashowan said in a darkly humored voice. 
 
She held the staff across her chest, sighing softly. Staring at the spot where the eyes gleamed from ... Terry was nowhere in sight as of now, though Ashowan was sure that the faint sparkle of yellow many miles away across the clearing was all Terry. Oh well ... Where there was chaos, there was Terry. If something happened, the graveling would show up. 
 
If nto to help, at least to get front-row seats. 
 
Ashowan's thoughts drifted to what Rishcath had said to her while she was dreaming. Had it been a dream? Had the demon's insults been only in her mind, not real? Only one way to find out. He had said ... that she was weak. that her family did not love her. Her voice came out somewhat hard, but tired. And lined with some fleeting emotion. Despair or sadness, take your pick. 
 
"You don't know me." 
 
She half-closed one eye, the other still wide open. Muscles tensed nonetheless. 
 
"Things are about to change." She sighed. "Anyways, what's up?" 
 
Conversational ... but hey. Ashowan wasn't too keen on a confrontation right now. And maybe Rishcath would do no harm. Maybe she was just overreacting.

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div>

Post by **Blue** » Mon Apr 10, 2006 10:08 am

As he watched her, his glowing eyes slowly faded into nothingness, he knew that she did not trust him, and they had only met twice before. Once with those birds, and the other with a spirit creature. He moved no closer instead he spoke out to her. 
 
"Saying hello, is just so boring and overrated, wouldn't you say, Ashowan?" He said her name with familiarity, and smiled darkly to himself as she moved, studying her movements, allowing himself to learn more about her. He studied the wooden staff she carried, no doubt she used it as a weapon, or perhaps simply a walking stick. He smiled darkly to himself as she looked down at him, he knew his presence, the fact that he was an unknown, often brought a slight amount, to a great deal of of fear, though he thought it odd, but he could not help what he was. 
 
Rishcath's eyes turned over to the Lost Fields, and he chuckled softly to himself. 
 
"A battle was fought here long ago, and burnt the forest I believe. It is not so hard to tell. Though I cannot be sure. This place is magical, of that I've no doubt, so this barren area could be natural. Though what is natural about this place, I've no idea." Rishcath then turned back to Ashowan. He had heard her comment about not knowing her, but he was not one to raise to the bait so easily. He said nothing for a while and simply allowed his presence to weigh itself on her mind, as he began to pull the darkness towards him. He too, felt more powerful at the moment, the time right before dawn. The darkest hours of the night, how they made him feel were, indescribable. He sighed ever so softly to himself as he turned once more to Ashowan. 
 
"Such a pity, isn't it? That this place, is the very essence of death? How things grow old, and die, while other things are made to watch? Creatures that have long life spans, and immortality such as ourselves, need not fear this natural decay. We can sit back and watch as the world around us begins to decay, as the ones with us grow old and die. We can watch their pain Ashowan, and know that we will never have to suffer through that. You and I, are not so different in some ways, Ashowan. We both cannot die, and we both shall watch as the ones around us perish." His words were different but the way he said them, he made them sound as if it were the first time he had brought the idea up. Cloaking his words to the ear, mind, and heart. 
 
For a moment, he seemed distracted as he placed his left hand over the hilt of his sword as the gem in the end of his hilt began to glow on its own, when it was not drawn from its sheath, that only meant one thing.... 
 
"Tell me, Ashowan, if I were to kill all your little friends, would it be easier for you? Perhaps I shall start with Arthiaos, hmm? There are ways even to kill any creature, one simply needs to know, where to strike." His tone, was eerily conversational. Such talk of killing and death, odd things for a conversation. The cold way he said them, in a professional tone, gave the idea that it was an every day occurrence for him to take lives, as if it were nothing stranger the taking in air. Rishcath was use to it, he had killed men, women, even children. He cared not, his heart was empty and cold, if he even had one, and his soul, if it existed, was darker then the abyss itself. 
 
"I can kill them Ashowan, and I will if they, or you ever get in my way, though it may very well be interesting just to kill them anyway, and watch your pain." Rishcath laughed quietly as he turned his back on Ashowan and walked to the edge of the Lost Fields. He bent down and picked up a handful of wet earth, and held it out in one hand. 
 
"Life lasts only so long, Ashowan, before you know it, all your friends will be no better then this:" He dropped the handful of wet earth on the ground and took a single step onto it, and crushed it beneath his boot. 
 
"What are you going to do little Reaper, when you cannot stand to be attached to anyone any longer? Will you become cold in your work? Uncaring? Or perhaps, you may end up like me. The process is not hard, when I was but a teenage boy, in a dimension that is billions of years older then this, I was taken and turned into what I am. I can do that to you, or to your friends. It would not be so hard, and then, they would be gone from you... forever." He smiled darkly as his eyes flashed for only a second, then vanished as quickly as the appeared. 
 
"Or I can give them a fate worse then death. You decide."

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>

Post by **Windra** » Mon Apr 10, 2006 4:47 pm

Vibes feeding into her body, energy crackling up her arms, into the chest, down to the legs, spreading into the tail and toes, moving up through her neck, spreading to the facial muscles, seeming to even cause the eyes to sparkle. 
 
And all that energy originated from her fingertips, which seemed to feed off of the ghostly vibrations of this area. From the presence of numerous invisible spirits, half-attatched or fully bound to this world without being able to cross over. 
 
Without being able to find a way home. 
 
Ashowan was not the only lost soul. 
 
Somewhere beyond the clearing, in the edge of the woods directly across from where Windra perched, tensed, from where Rishcath stood, speaking, was the glimmer of yellow in the trees. Terry's own acute senses picked up on Rishcath's being and focused, curiousity caught. Like a cat. But the graveling didn't move. At first. 
 
Rishcath spoke of the Fields ... The reaper tilted her head, staring out at the damp soil of the land of the dead. A battle, huh? No wonder there were so many turmoiled ghosts in this area. No wonder ... that Ashowan had dreamed of something akin to a battle. A vision had haunted her sleep beforehand ... the image of an army of wolf-warriors, clad in armor and charging, but vanishing because at that moment Sho had woken up. 
 
She closed her eyes, trying to remember more details ... How somehow in the dream, Jacob-Trapjaw had been in the lead of the army, shifting to take a form of one of them. 
 
Rishcath was speaking again ... of how they, as immortals, would be forced to watch as their friends grew old and died, passed on. Suffer, grow ill and frail, finally fall ... all while they who were undead and incapable of dying watched it all. Watched the misery, the pain ... 
 
In Ashowan's case, watch all that and not be able to help. because the system, the system of Death, would not permit the Grim Reapers of Earth to interfere. 
 
Times would change. 
 
But ... she'd told herself that so many times. Tried to fend off the system, defy it in all that was holy, try and live a normal life and act at least somewhat human. And every single time an attempt was made by her, something precious and close to her heart was swept away. 
 
Save Elisa? Pshaw, she became a graveling. 
 
Try and reunite with family members after death? Lost memories. 
 
Make a friend with the living? They would find out ... and get an early post-it. 
 
Try and fall in ... well ... 
 
It was all the same. Over and over again. Try something new, try to change things ... get screwed over ... lose what you love ... try again. Lather, rinse, repeat. 
 
Over and over, round and round. 
 
There was a new feeling welling up inside of Ashowan. Was it pity, for this creature? This thing that she didn't trust, and would detest to do so? But ... ah hell, he was in the same predicament as her. 
 
"Things can change," she answered. Almost in assurance ... for both of them. Though her voice was weak and uncertain. She rubbed her eyes, fatigue fighting a losing battle with cemetary vibes again. 
 
Movement ... Emerald orbs shot open, focused on the shadow demon. His hand was moving over something - hardly discernible in the dark. Whatever it was, was glowing a purple hue, in the shape of a stone. A very small stone. Gem? Any compassion or hint of emotion Rishcath gave off in his voice earlier were torn away. Because now, the demon spoke in so cold a tone she could swear her blood had turned cold. Whether it was the presence of Rishcath, the calculating cruelty of his voice, or what he was saying ... 
 
Nah. It was all three put together. 
 
"Tell me, Ashowan, if I were to kill all your little friends, would it be easier for you? Perhaps I shall start with Arthiaos, hmm?" 
 
Sho stood with a start, eyes wide. "Wha - " 
 
"There are ways even to kill any creature, one simply needs to know, where to strike. I can kill them Ashowan, and I will if they, or you ever get in my way, though it may very well be interesting just to kill them anyway, and watch your pain." 
 
Sympathy fell apart. What was being said, struck a chord. A chord that rang the harmony of anger, disgust. The staff was held tightly, knuckles turning white. Brows furrowed. 
 
The thought of Arthiaos, of Siltharyn, of Bren and everybody else she'd met in her brief time in the Woods ... at the hands of Rishcath ... was enough to send a vertigrath cowering. It was enough to send chills down Ashowan's spine, fueling ... 
 
Rishcath scooped up dirt. "Life lasts only so long, Ashowan, before you know it, all your friends will be no better then this:" 
 
The dirt was dropped, then crushed under the pressure of the demon's boot. Sho's tail flailed wildly. Rishcath was antagonizing her, she knew that! Trying to get her to take the bait ... trying to fight with her? The hell for? What good would come of it? But it worked. Ashowan was flaring up. 
 
"Like hell." 
 
"What are you going to do little Reaper, when you cannot stand to be attatched to anyone any longer? Will you become cold in your work? Uncaring? Or perhaps, you may end up like me. The process is not hard, when I was but a teenage boy, in a dimension that is billions of years older than this, I was taken and turned into what I am. I can do that to you, or to your friends. It would not be so hard, and then, they would be gone from you ... forever." 
 
A dark smile. A glint of light. 
 
"Or I can give them a fate worse than death. You decide." 
 
Ashowan's teeth bore in what could have been considered a growl. This was probably the first time that some draconic instincts and characteristics were shown to be present, thanks to the welding of Windra's mind and body with her own. 
 
"You compare me to you," she snarled, eyes flaring like a blaze. The staff was pointed at Rishcath. "I am nothing like you. Uncaring in my work? We try and make it easier for the people we reap .. We can't save them. But we can alleviate them of the pain." 
 
This was it ... Ashowan jumped from the branch, landing onto the ground gracefully on taloned feet, staff held in a battle-ready stance. 
 
"If we get in your way?" 
 
Eyes narrowed ... mimicked by a pair of yellow lanterns. Terry moved in, curious at the ruckus, fltting onto the branch Ashowan occupied moments before and watching as though he was nothing more than an excited spectator eager to see the Nicks play. Sho's eyes flickered to Rishcath glowing item - that purple orb - and back to his face. If that was his face. 
 
"You won't lay a hand on them! You'd have to go through me first." Eyes narrowed, daring. "Lay a finger on them, and get an early appointment to meet your reaper." 
 
"Post-it or no post-it." 
 

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
<div style="text-align:center"><a href="http://www.pickle-green.com/egraphics/main.php?id=eggs" target="top"><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/7585 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8976 ... </a></div> 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div>

Post by **Blue** » Wed Apr 12, 2006 4:49 am

He smiled darkly to himself, for he knew he struck a nerve. Watching quietly as Ashowan grew more and more angered, allowing her emotions to gain the better of her, he waited. Soon enough, she leapt down, out of her tree and she spoke to him once more, about her work. 
 
"You may be caring now, Ashowan, but what will happen one hundred years from now? Two hundred? Will you still be able to care after seeing so much death? Will you still be so kind?" Rishcath smiled and walked towards her, stopping around seven feet away from her, making sure to keep clear of the possibility of gaining that sickness that must be running through her veins at this very moment. 
 
"You are mistaken, Ashowan, I am as easy to kill as you are. We are from different worlds. In my world, creatures like you have no power over any, and death claims whom it will, but not me. Long ago I found my immortality, and I will always have it." He smiled darkly. "I shall do with your little friends what I wish. You cannot stop me." Rishcath paused and looked over Ashowan's clothing and then, a dark and cold chuckle quietly rose from within him as he saw a few white wolf hairs. 
 
"So... you've met Siltharyn have you? We are, old friends, she and I." His voice was like ice, only even ice would have turned brittle with the cruelty in his tone. "Such a sad one she is. Has she told you? About what happened to her?" Rishcath smiled even darker to himself, and slowly, very slowly as he told Ashowan her story, did his eyes start to shine. He started to circle her, his tone conversational once more, but far colder then any winter's wind. 
 
"The poor thing, she doesn't even realize it was me whom killed her mother at pup birth. I had been hired by her pack's mage three months before she was born, and he told me what it was I needed to do." Rishcath continued to walk around Ashowan, his voice quiet, telling the story in such a way, each word was a cliff hanger, he changed his voice with each part of the story, giving it a dramatic effect. Old Rishcath, knew how to keep an 'audience' entertained. 
 
"When Celenia came to labour, I made my move, and do you know what I did Ashowan? I took each of those pup's hearts and I stopped them. By using the darkness that was within their little bodies. Talyne told me what to watch for in one of the pups, and I left that one be."His voice darkened with what he said next. 
 
"I then killed Siltharyn's mother... slowly. She had one night to live, Talyne told me it had to seem natural, I knew this, but I humored him. Slowly, I damaged her lungs, her kidneys, all her internal organs so it seemed as if it were a failure of her systems. Because I could continue to do this, that fool Serlion could not heal her. He had no way to stop what I was doing. Celinia died, but only after Siltharyn saw her mother once, and was given her mother's song." Rishcath chuckled to himself. 
"It was rather interesting seeing their pain, their perplexed looks, and the sorrow in their eyes, though watching Siltharyn grow was even more entertaining. She grew up in a family where only Serlion and her father Mancal ever really, truly cared about her. Talyne was only going to use her, the rest of her pack feared her, and despised her, believing that she should have been drowned at birth." Rishcath moved away from Ashowan and stood near the edge of the Fields, his back turned to Ashowan as he looked up into the still clouded night sky and his voice grew, if even possible, even darker. 
 
"Then came her eighteenth birthday." He turned and simply looked over his shoulder at Ashowan. 
"First Talyne sent a plague upon her pack, before the day of her birth, over half her family died and she, even Serlion were not able to stop it, it was magically induced. Siltharyn however, was able to invent a solution that took away the pain, and once the pain went away, the body was able to slowly heal without that distraction. Talyne decided he had to strike. When Siltharyn was out on the mountain and Serlion was with her ill father, Talyne bound her pack in a spell and set them against each other. Husband against wife, sister on brother, even mother against child, and I watched it all. I have to admit, it was an interesting way to break her. When Siltharyn entered the pack's main den site, she was attacked by one of the pack sisters and out of defense, she killed her sister. Talyne confronted her and then I took her in my grasp and I held her while she watched the last female of the pack, kill her own pup. From there, Talyne killed both that old fool Serlion and then Siltharyn's father Mancal. All the while I held her and forced her to watch. Though she did get away, I have followed her here. Talyne wants her back, but I killed him soon after we approached the outskirts of the waste land, I simply want to tell her this, and to... give her something." His last words were said with a great deal of malice, for Rishcath had other reasons for coming to this forest, darker reasons then to simply give Siltharyn the message, and then his eyes, brighter then Ashowan had ever possibly seen them before went out in a split second. 
 
"Then maybe I'll just kill her." He turned towards Ashowan and drew his blade from its sheath. The cold silver steel, the moment that it was revealed, started to smoke out darkness and the purple gem flashed brightly and he stood still, waiting for Ashowan and he laughed, dark and cruel and watched how she would react, his blade at the ready, and slowly, in such a way it could not be seen, the handle of a dagger drifted down into his left hand from a hidden catch under his sleeve, and he waited.

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>Edited by: <A HREF=http://p082.ezboard.com/bunicornsvision ... Silvertone Bluenote</A> <IMG HEIGHT=10 WIDTH=10 SRC="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... es/sfb.gif" BORDER=0> at: 4/11/06 19:52

Post by **Windra** » Sat Apr 15, 2006 2:38 am

It wasn't the fact that Rishcath seemed to be no more than pure shadow at the moment that spooked her. Not the fact that this demon could meld into the dark, become invisible, without a moment's hesitation or a problem that made chills run down her spine. And it wasn't how this creature's eyes lit up like the fourth of July spontaneiously, lighting up the night in a flash of a second only to condemn it once more to the dullness of the moon. 
 
It wasn't any of those things that got to Ashowan. 
 
It was how Rishcath spoke. So coldly ... nonchalantly. As if what he was saying - how he spoke of ruining a white wolf Healer's life - was nothing important. That what he did wasn't bad at all in his eyes ... He sounded like he actually enjoyed telling his horrid story! Or ... or ... or with no emotion at all. Which was worst by ten times. Because it felt so ... unnatural to be so uncaring. So vile. So deadly and downright ... 
 
Downright cruel. 
 
Ashowan had never heard Sitlharyn's side of the tale before. The white wolf was exceptionally kind, though the way she spoke and acted on occasions showed that there was more to her than what met the eye. 
 
"The end of this life, Bren, is simply the beginning of another, happier life. There is a place out there, for all good people, they just have to be willing to find it. Look inside your own heart, Bren. You'll see, you'll see ..." 
 
"I really hope that's true, Silth." 
 
"It's true, Ashowan. You know it also, in your heart. It's there. I know it's true, because they  are all there ..." 
 
No ... Ashowan still didn't believe that. 
 
But Siltharyn ... was longing. Like her. For something. For someone ... a they. But who was they? It was as mysterious as the healer's past. 
 
Until now. 
 
Until Rishcath spoke of how he killed her mother and siblings. How Rishcath held Siltharyn back and forced her to watch the rest of her packmates die at the magical hands of somebody named 'Talyne'. Whoever that was. 
 
The they Siltharyn mentioned ... had been her ... 
 
... family? 
 
Ashowan's eyes gleamed with disgust, that emotion welling up on her facial features as she stared, unblinkingly at Rishcath. His back was turned ... vulnerable ... and right now she felt like clouting him. Not for spooking her earlier by allowing his voice to penetrate her nightmares, and not for giving her a rather rude awakening. But because of Siltharyn ... what he did to her. Made her suffer. 
 
However, routine and her own rules held fast. Ashowan rarely ever struck first. 
 
Then Rishcath said that he wanted to deliver her the message ... of how he killed her mother and siblings. Of how Talyne ... Of how Rishcath might just kill Siltharyn. That was enough ... Rishcath turned, eyes piercing the night once mroe, brighter than ever she had seen, fading into dark once the optics were through with their display. The flash of metal - of smoke? And the orb still glowed that amethyst hue. 
 
Then it was out of sight. Ashowan's eyes remained on where it had vanished from her view. Clenching the staff tightly, prepped to attack if it ever came to that, she backed away. Hidden blades ... a sword ... and the way he weilded it spoke of anything but peace. The sword could do no harm to her - any wounds would heal in an instant. But something about that sword unnerved her, sent reaper instincts shouting to back away, keep her distance from it. 
 
Without taking her eyes off of the spot, she spoke in a tone almost as cold as Rishcath's. There was no dry humor now ... no chuckle at the way Terry shifted a little on the branch, lost balance and toppled over, falling to the ground - though Ashowan cast a quick glance that way and there was a gleam in her green eyes that suggested some amusement. The graveling uttered a long series of curses as it tried to unwind itself from a brush that broke its fall. 
 
"Monster." 
 
Eyes narrowed. 
 
"You've targeted her from birth ... made her life a living hell, you and Talyne. Haven't you put her through enough?" 
 
Tail thrashed, muscles tensed, ready to spring. She had the distinct feeling that Rishcath would be the first to strike ... but would she be fast enough to jump out of the way, agile enough to avoid a shadow's attack? 
 
"You won't kill her." Gleam of the eyes, hard as steel. "You won't lay a hand on her, got it?"

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
<div style="text-align:center"><a href="http://www.pickle-green.com/egraphics/main.php?id=eggs" target="top"><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/7585 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8976 ... </a></div> 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div> Edited by: <A HREF=http://p082.ezboard.com/bunicornsvision ... >Windra</A> at: 4/14/06 17:43

Post by **Blue** » Mon Apr 17, 2006 7:01 am

(( ^^; this is going to be a little graphic XD If you dun like it Windra, just let me know <img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v66/V ... /smile.gif ALT=":)"> )) 
 
He just stood there not a single move did he make as Ashowan spoke, as that anger flared behind her eyes. Oh no, instead, he had just learned what he needed to know. He knew that Ashowan was attached to the wolf, and if that was the case... should Ashowan get in his way, a mortal was always the best to target. As she finished her words, speaking of how he would not kill her, he chuckled darkly and he looked at her, though she may not have been able to see that. His chuckle was cold, even darker then his words, for it was nothing more then a sound, not really a sound of amusement, nothing, simple as that, but colder then the frozen tundra. 
 
"I shall do as I wish, Ashowan, as I shall always continue to do so. You cannot kill me, but I can kill her. If you were to get this 'post-it' you speak of, with the wolf's name on it... would you step in? Would you stop it when it is your job to take others from this world?" His words were chosen specifically to hurt Ashowan, to dig a... dagger into her heart. He fingered a very real dagger's hilt in his hand, and watched on to Ashowan. 
 
"There is nothing you would be able to do Ashowan... nothing." With a blur of movement, Rishcath made his move, but it was fast, very fast and Rishcath's hand was at his side once more before the dagger even hit it's mark, for it flew... right into her heart. The dagger struck deep and if Ashowan had been alive, or able to die, she would have, but no she was immortal like himself. Within moments of the dagger's movements having stopped, Rishcath reached out into the darkness within her body, grabbed the blade of the dagger and began to pull it... in. He slowly started to walk up to her while he forced the dagger to apply more and more pressure, and as he took his last step to being within distance of her staff... he was gone. Only to reappear once more, right behind her, his sword sliding softly along her neck, softly pushing away the garment she wore over her neck, though Rishcath didn't know it, right along her scar. Then, once more... he was gone again, but his voice was not.... 
 
"You may not be able to die, Ashowan, but you can feel pain. Emotional and physical if I am not mistaken." With each of his words, the dagger began to sink, deeper, even now the hilt of the small blade was beginning to push hard against Ashowan's ribs, if enough pressure built, it would end up working it's way right through her, and that would be painful, as it was... the pressure did keep building. 
 
His form came into being once more, but he was again where he had started, on the edge of the Lost Fields, only this time, his blade was in plain sight, smoke rose up from the steel of the blade and the purple gem in the very butt of the blade was bright, and hazed out its own smoke and it throbbed. There was enough light coming from this blade to show Rishcath's hand on it, tight, but not a sound was made from the leather of his gloves and the gip of the sword. 
 
He started to move once more, but this time, he simply walked, moving around her in a circle, his pace slow, and his feet made not a sound as he walked. 
 
"When the time comes, Ashowan, will you be able to take her and your little friends? Hmm? Will you be able to remove them from this life and take them to whatever nothingness lays beyond? I've been alive for millions of years, Ashowan, but I have yet to see any proof of an afterlife, of a paradise that some believe in so deeply. There is nothing after this life, child, you should count yourself lucky that you are the way you are. Your friends? They will drift away, loose themselves, never knowing the difference, and all the while, you would know that you did that to them." He continued to walk around her, continued to pull his dagger into her, the dagger pushing harder and harder against her rib cage, as he kept his eyes upon her. 
 
He kept a tight grip on his sword, ready to move, he did not want her touching him, but he had to take care of certain... things first. The purple gem throbbed once again, and Rishcath knew it was growing impatient with him, but what for, was anyone's guess.

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>

Post by **Windra** » Tue Apr 18, 2006 8:54 am

Rishcath didn't move ... but he continued to speak. Of a post-it? How could that be? Ashowan had never mentioned how they were given post-its that told the chosen reaper of a time and place of death and the name of the unfortunate victim? As a matter of fact, she'd never said anything to him about being a reaper. She'd told Shadow she was dead, yes, but never said to them that she was more ... made to take the souls of the living before they died, and escort them to their final destination. 
 
Of the few she'd confided in ... Rishcath was not one of them. So the reaper shot him the most confused glance ... a twinkle of awed fear in those bright green eyes dimmed with so many years of seeing death and people be torn to pieces - emotionally, or literally. Reaper and human alike. 
 
Movement ... It was so quick, that it was a miracle Ashowan had seen it, much less been fast enough to react. First instinct commanded her to dodge - a movement to the right - but she wasn't as lightning-speedy as the attack. Something sharp headed straight for her chest ... Ashowan had only succeeded in diverting the target. Instead of striking at her aorta, the sharp object - a blade shown by the glint of moonlight - headed for the beating heart thump-thumping steadily with no real purpose anymore. 
 
Lucky she was already dead. 
 
It pierced the jacket, puncturing a slit into the fabric as it tore past ... Went through the hole in her shirt made from when Verierr had the idea of 'breaking her heart'. Ripped into the skin, breaking it open and sending crimson rain down her chest, hidden by the garment of the coat and shirt. And the blade burrowed deeper until it pierced the life-giving muscle that sat near the center of her chest. 
 
That thump-thump became a ragged rhythm. 
 
She was flung back from the speed, the force, gaining balance but hissing in pain. The staff fell from gloved fingers. 
 
But rather than stop upon striking so much muscle and tendons and tissues, the blade kept going. It felt as though the weapon were being tugged into her, a fresh gout of blood spilling with each time the pressure grew. The reaper's hands flung up to the hilt, wrapped around it and pulled, trying like hell to pull it out. No such luck. "Chaa .. " 
 
It distracted her. Rishcath moved again, this time appearing behind her ... dragging another blade across her throat, not cutting but leaving two chills. One chill that came from the sword ... the other chill being something deeper. A memory that clung to the depths of her mind and never left for the better part of nearly two centuries. 
 
A memory of her death. 
 
Because that blade ... slid across her scar ... 
 
If Rishcath paid any heed to her reaction, he would've seen her freeze up. Her hands went limp on the hilt of the dagger, eyes went wide ... For just one moment all resistance died. For just one moment, the dagger was allowed to go further into the internal organ. And then ... as Rishcath pulled away ... then Ashowan was back in action, fighting off that temporary, but extremely revealing, pause. And yanking on the dagger again. 
 
Rishcath again .. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the demon appear at the edge of the fields, circling like a tiger on the prowl. The sword ... she was certain that was what he was holding .. smoked charcoal and violet, and it all seemed to throb with that pulsating amethyst that rested in its hilt. Circling ... circling .. 
 
And again, he spoke. 
 
Between the pain of metal grinding through flesh, of ice against her throat and unwelcome memories of her death ... between threats to those she considered friends, very murderous threats .. It was enough to drive a reaper mad. Or at least get one extremely pissed off. There came from her throat a most feral-sounding snarl, more draconic than human - 
 
- she was on the move. 
 
She'd made the mistake of not moving after getting the initial hit. Remaining a sitting duck wasn't an option. 
 
Ashowan crouched down and blasted off, starting at a run towards Rishcath. Hands wrapped around the mini-blade's hilt, fighting the force that drove it in and in turn increasing blood flow, only to be replenished by reaper metabolism. And now, maroon liquid started to leak from the corners of her mouth, dribbling and being swept away by the speed. 
 
She ran at Rishcath. Just moments before she would have slammed headlong into the shadow demon, just as she began to feel that overwhelming cold of shadow take over ... dragon talons dug into the ground, legs bent in a split-second crouch - 
 
- and, using the ground as a springboard, catapulted into the air. Towards the treeline, away from Rishcath. She spun in the air so that the talons dug into the wood, and used that as a board too, jumping to another oak. Then another ... Soon she was moving fast enough to rival a cheetah at full-steam ahead. Hopefully too fast for Rishcath to get a good mark, a good target, and send another blade into her body. And while she was moving, she struggled against the unseen force, pulling against it. 
 
All the while her thoughts were going. Strange how women can multi-task ... 
 
Rishcath spoke of Siltharyn's death. If Ashowan had her post-it, would she be able to do it? Would she lead the wolf to the afterlife? An afterlife that may not exist, that Rishcath claimed there was no proof of? Well, Ashowan had no proof of the afterlife either, but she believed it. And besides ... why take Siltharyn's soul, when she could possibly stop it, save her? Let her live, without the possibility of the wolf becoming a Rogue Graveling? After all, her last reap had been Talon .. and after that, she quit. For good. 
 
Of course, she had no idea she'd be meeting Mort in a bit, either. And have a few more assignments ... But ... 
 
Grip on the dagger's hilt increased. She pulled, yanked, growled and tugged again and again and again. Over and over. Until finally ... with a mighty and sickening rip ... it came free from her guts and broke out of the skin and heart. Red peppered the night sky as Ashowan tore it out and held it high, unseen save for a few glints by moonlight ... cleansed in her own blood. 
 
Without that obstacle to block the process, the heart sealed. So did the cut. Precious nerve endings and muscle walls rebuilt, tendons and tissue fused together. The sealing of the gash in her skin was the final touch. 
 
And finally, Ashowan's movements in the trees stopped ... For just an instant, long enough to be seen with the dagger above her head. Long enough to reply to Rishcath's speech of the afterlife, of Siltharyn's dying .. 
 
"You don't know anything, either." 
 
And she lunge,d from the branches. So quickly, almost unavoidable. Like a vertical bullet towards Rishcath's being. Ashowan swung the dagger in an arc to her side, bringing it down so that it would slice open Rishcath's neck .. 
 
 
 

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
<div style="text-align:center"><a href="http://www.pickle-green.com/egraphics/main.php?id=eggs" target="top"><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/7585 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8976 ... </a></div> 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div> Edited by: <A HREF=http://p082.ezboard.com/bunicornsvision ... >Windra</A> at: 4/18/06 12:34

Post by **Blue** » Fri Apr 28, 2006 7:18 am

He didn't move as she lunged at him, he didn't even blink. When Ashowan finally reached him with his dagger in her hand. He reached out, and took the blade as she passed, turning, pulling Ashowan as the blade cut into his hand. It hurt, oh yes, not even Rishcath was immune to pain, as black smoking blood started to pour forth from his hand. He turned with her momentum and then, using her own speed, he threw Ashowan at the nearest tree trunk, which was only five feet away. 
 
He didn't stop moving however as the gem in his sword flashed, and he simply said one thing. "Time for a drink." The took a few steps forward and then in a single movment, it wasn't the dagger that pierced Ashowan's heart, it was his sword, and it bit, down and through her, into the very trunk of the tree, and Rishcath pushed it all the way through, until the hilt of his blade was pressed up tight against Ashowan's chest, and then he moved and took hold of the darkness inside of the tree, and held the blade there... there was no way for Ashowan to get free this time, but the blade passing through her, wasn't going to be the painful part, because there was one problem with Rishcath's blade, it was powerful yes, but it had it's fall backs. Rishcath's blade held within it the soul of his father, forever trapped within the cold steal, forever in Rishcath's control, but the problem was, in order for the blade to remain as it was, every ten years, it had to drain the life blood of another creature... Ashowan had blood, but she couldn't die. A prime target for such a thing. As the blade was secured into the trunk of the tree, suddenly the gem's glow went out, and Rishcath stepped back long before Ashowan could have a chance to touch him and give him the plague. Instead, he stood back and looked down on her, and chuckled. 
 
The blade had already started to drink in the blood in Ashowan's body, no blood even came from the wound itself as the sword drank, instead, the edges of the wound froze over and Rishcath did not know if there would be any other repercussions to the blade being lodged inside of Ashowan. 
 
He turned his back on her and walked away, leaving her to her pain, and said aloud. 
"Whoever your invisible little friend is, I suggest you keep them away Ashowan. Unless of course, you want an even worse fate to happen to them. I can't see them, but I will hear what movement they make, or see the dirt as it moves under their feet." Rishcath went silent for a long time as he held the sword tight in the tree, increasing the pressure on it, just to make Ashowan suffer. He then started to speak to her. 
 
"I may not have seen the next life with my own eyes, Ashowan, but again, I still know there is an endless abyss out there, for I have seen that, and sometimes the soul may loose it's way, and be consumed by Darkness. I may also have no proof, but I've been around for a long time, and have seen nothing to contradict what it is I say." 
 
Rishcath kept his back to Ashowan, and simply awaited for the blade to signal it was finished with it's meal. In the mean time, he looked down at his bleeding hand as a single drop of blood fell to the ground, and a hissing sound was heard, as if his blood was made of acid.

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
P.S. Sillyness.... ROCKS MY SOCKS!!!! 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>

Post by **Windra** » Wed May 03, 2006 7:16 am

Ashowan's reflexes were a bit faster this time. Granted, the movements weren't quick enough to rival lightning, but it was enough. She was flungback towards a tree courtesy of her own momentum, at such an angle that her back would've cracked against the bark. But she turned in mid-air so that dragon talons dug into the wood instead. She sprung from that position, back towards Rishcath - 
 
-but he was fasted. Another thing went flying towards her. His sword! The force was enough to drive her back into the tree, pin her there like a stake. A prize hung up on an oak tree for the whole damned world to see. 
 
She was impaled through the heart. 
 
AGAIN. 
 
For the third friggin' time .. ! 
 
"Oh for the love of-" 
 
Rishcath already turned, focusing on his hand it seemed. Ashowan was been sure she'd inflicted some sort of injury, though she didn't know how bad. But her focus wasn't on the demon, it was on getting the sword out. Looking down, something didn't sit right with her ... Ahh, no wonder, there was no blood! It looked like it was being sucked .. into the blade? A vampire sword? 
 
She almost laughed. Of all the natty things ... 
 
Then she noticed the edges of the wound started to feel numb and freeze over. Her breath came out in plumes of vapor. Alarmed, Ashowan grasped the hilt of the sword with gloved hands, tried to pull, and uttered a meep of shock when ice coated her fingertips. The frost slowly traveled up her fingertips and to her wrists. And she'd be lying by declaring it didn't hurt (but then, some wounds could be passed off .. after all, reapers went through this type of thing daily.) 
 
What the? 
 
Rishcath said something about her 'invisible little friend'. Ashowan chuckled this time, because Terry wasn't exactly a friend but not an ennemy either. Anyhow, the threat was about as ominous as a rubber ducky to Terry. The graveling, perched on a branch on the tree Sho was skewered on, made a mocking noise. And shrieked something nondecipherable into the air, making rude gestures at Rishcath. For censorship reasons, Ashowan decided not to translate. Nope, instead she strained against the blade. The arctic element was going up her forearms now. She pressured her body against the hilt, vying and willing to push the sword out of the tree so that she could slide off and claim independence from it. 
 
Rishcath talked of the afterlife again. Ashowan bit back pain well, (she was half-grimacing) but a retort she could not withold. Though it was broken with her efforts of fighting the blade. 
 
"But you're still in the -- dark. Doesn't feel -- good to be so high-and-mighty but -- just as clueless as the -- next guy, hmm?" 
 
The oak's wood creaked, the sword strained, the ice traveled further up .. The blade was coming loose ... If all else failed, she could get free via option B, but that would include slicing through her side and she wasn't too willing to cope with that hurty painy. 

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
<div style="text-align:center"><a href="http://www.pickle-green.com/egraphics/main.php?id=eggs" target="top"><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/7585 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8976 ... </a></div> 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div> Edited by: <A HREF=http://p082.ezboard.com/bunicornsvision ... >Windra</A> at: 5/3/06 12:30

Post by **Blue** » Fri May 12, 2006 8:22 pm

((Posty in the making, it'll be up either tonight or right away sunday morning, or perhaps on saturday <img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v66/V ... /smile.gif ALT=":)"> Rishcath kinda smacked me on the head and told me to hurry up ^^<img src=http://www.ezboard.com/images/emoticons/wink.gif ALT=";)"> )

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
P.S. Sillyness.... ROCKS MY SOCKS!!!! 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>

Post by **Windra** » Fri May 12, 2006 9:00 pm

(<img src=http://www.ezboard.com/images/emoticons/laugh.gif ALT=":lol"> Take your time, Blue. <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/images/emoticons/happy.gif ALT=":D"> )

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
<div style="text-align:center"><a href="http://www.pickle-green.com/egraphics/main.php?id=eggs" target="top"><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/7585 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8976 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8520 ... </a></div> 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div>

Post by **Blue** » Sat May 13, 2006 11:21 am

His back was turned to her, but he could feel her pull on the hilt of his sword, now, he couldn't have that. The hold Rishcath had on the blade of the sword only tightened as he pulled it further into Ashowan's body, until he could hear several ribs start to crack under the pressure. He heard her words, but for a while he chose not to say anything. He stood there, waiting, listening, and looking over the Lost Fields. His thoughts moved through a mind that many could not even fathom in its cruelty. Rishcath had yet to show his truest nature. 
 
He slowly, slowly turned around, his cloak rippling softly with a passing breeze as he looked at Ashowan. Nothing was shown within his hood as he began to take a few slow steps towards her. Not speaking a word, dead serious. His boots fell to the ground without making a single sound. He moved his one arm, moving it into one of the many folds of his robe and from it, pulled out a twisted dagger. The blade itself shaped like a spiral and the guard of the dagger, filled with spikes. With a single twitch of his fingers, this blade turned into five, splitting into five separate daggers, all had been laying one over another. He looked down at them, then looked up once more to Ashowan, and he didn't even chuckle, he didn't make a sound. 
 
His arm moved, swiftly throwing the blades, as each one landed on one of Ashowan's sides, making it impossible for the girl to go to the left or the tight. The blades sunk into the hilt and the hilt's spikes worked their way into Ashowan's flesh, locking her where she was. Again, Rishcath put his hand into his robes and pulled out yet another similar dagger, and it too, split into five. With one more flick of his wrist, he sent all five straight into Ashowan. One into each of her hands, into her feet, and one into her tail to keep her pinned tight against the tree. 
 
Still, the creature made not a sound, he continued to walk towards her, a flicker in the wind, showing something of what lay under his robe, a glint of metal, armor perhaps, but then it was gone. Covered by the cloth he swathed himself in. Now that Ashowan could not touch him, not really, he moved to her side and knelt down beside her, pulling one last dagger from within the folds of his robe. A long and blood red blade, its hilt darker then the night itself. He slowly started to thread it under the garment that Ashowan wore over her neck. He had indeed seen her reaction to his blade's touch on her neck. He cut through the cloth and saw before his eyes, the scar on her neck. 
 
He looked up into Ashowan's eyes, and slowly the blood red blade started to trace over the scar, slowly, not cutting the skin, but allowing it's cold to flow through her. Interesting, it was, how such a simple thing as a scar could affect a person. The blade's pressure slowly became greater as a single drop of blood came from the tip of the blade. Rishcath's eyes now began to slowly glow, to shine out of his good as he continued to look into Ashowan's. He paid close attention to how she would react to this, and slowly the pressure began to build on the edge of the blade, as Rishcath purposely and very slowly, began to cut alone the scar on Ashowan's neck. He cut it with such precession, that only the line of the scar was being cut, no new flesh was, only that which would effect Ashowan. 
 
Still, he didn't say anything, and the darkness only began to deepen around his form, making what seemed like a black haze around his body, the glow of the gem in the hilt of his sword, became steadily brighter and brighter as it began to reach its full. Rishcath allowed the edge of the dagger, the cold steel which never warmed, rest inside of the cut, the scar newly opened on Ashowan's neck as he continued to look at her. The whole time, he never said a thing, and when the gem in his sword reached the point where it was almost blinding to look at it, he, the daggers, and the sword suddenly... vanished. The steel that had been inside of Ashowan's flesh, was no longer there, but icy edges were on each wound. The wound from his sword, the darkest as even the edges seemed to have remains of shadow sticking to them from the sword itself. 
 
Rishcath appeared once more on the edge of the Fields, his back still turned to her, his stance now more relaxed. He had no need to attack her now, she had served his purpose, and he had learned something about the young dead girl. He turned his head, his eyes still glowing as he spoke for the first time this had happened. 
 
"When one of your friends is faced by Death.... who's side will you be on, Ashowan?" His words were darker then even his form was. It was a choice Ashowan would have to make at one point or another he believed. It is hard, very hard, to choose between two callings. Let your friends live? Or face the consequences? He turned his back on her once more, crossing his arms over his chest as he slowly started to take a step into the Lost Fields. 
 
He had started to slowly walk away from her, intent on leaving. She had given him what he needed, she wasn't of use any longer. Rishcath had others he needed to meet with, to find the truth of the plague in the forest. If the one he was after contracted this plague, lost what few powers that this one had, and there was no cure, it would be useless. He had no need for Ashowan now, he might in the future as bait perhaps, or to get this one to finally awaken, to finally realize who they were, but for now, he would leave the other be. She was safe from his wrath, for the time being.

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
P.S. Sillyness.... ROCKS MY SOCKS!!!! 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>

Post by **Windra** » Fri Jun 09, 2006 3:04 pm

<div style="text-align:center">Swords pierced, blood was spilled. It all happened before she could have a real chance of retaliating. So many daggers, all over .. and it hurt like hell. Compare it to the pain of being stung over and over again by five or six wasps, all at once, and you wouldn't reach half the experience. 
 
And the other sword ... The other daggers held her back and the blade was pressed further into her heart. The hitl started to press against the ribcage, crackling bones beneath the skin and starting some internal hemorrhaging. The feeling of it blinded Ashowan for a few seconds, brought her extremely vlose to screaming out in sheer agony and the need to be freed from this torment, but she held fast and bit her tongue. And fought. 
 
Her hands clasped around the daggers and pulled, pushing them out of the bark slowly. Painfully. And just as they were about to be liberated from the tree's bark, it was all gone. Everything. The bee-sting daggers left every place they had struck true. Even the sword vanished in thin air, leaving behind a gaping frostbitten hole that revealed a gruesome sight - her internals. The glint of a still beating heart that died over a hundred years ago. 
 
All at once, she crumpled to the ground, falling to her knees with hands holding her up. 
 
The shock of having those hurts and aches removed made her eyes widen and breath catch. When she did exhale, it was with a plume of vapor, misted over. And the ice that coated her arms was beginning to thaw ever so slowly .. but faster than the wound in her heart. Muscles closed around the vital organ quickly, but the edges of the broken and frozen tissues were taking longer than normal to heal. In the meanwhile the other wounds had already sealed. 
 
A glint of light above. Rishcath's eyes. And a question followed that deadly glare. 
 
"When one of your friends is faced by Death ... who's side will you be on, Ashowan?" 
 
Struck dumb. 
 
Taught to be the fly, the shadow. Unseen, unheard, but getting the job done. And unfortunately, following that set of rules meant having no life .. not feeling how it was to be truly alive. Never feeling human again. 
 
But this was ... another shot, right? She quit. No more post-its, no more death. Just life. A new life, and a chance to start over and pick up the pieces from her old existence. 
 
She coughed - blood came from her lungs, the entire body heaved with the jarring of closing wounds and the only open one. 
 
"I ... " 
 
... don't know. 
 
" ... W-with," exhalation of cold carbon, "my f-friends ... " 
 
But even as she said it, she wasn't sure. No .. was she? Or ... Her eyes closed, her head was starting to ache a little. Slowly, shakily, she pushed herself to her feet, eyes narrowed and watchful of Rishcath's turned back, trying to tense up and be ready to jump away if he should attack again. But that would be an effort. She was hurting all over and the hole in her chest wasn't helping. And unprepared for a violent meeting with Rishcath ... It isn't ever day you meet a deadly shadow demon while walking the streets of New York. No matter what the urban legends say.</div>

<div style="text-align:center">_-Upon Leaving-_ 
<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v169/ ...  
_-Please Check for Missing Fingers and/or Limbs-_</div> 
<div style="text-align:center"><a href="http://www.pickle-green.com/egraphics/main.php?id=eggs" target="top"><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/7585 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8976 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/8520 ... <img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/egraphics/hkj8 ... </a></div> 
<div style="text-align:center">It's you and me against the world. 
We attack at dawn.</div>

Post by **Blue** » Sun Aug 20, 2006 11:59 pm

His eyes traveled over the Lost Fields, listening to Ashowan's breathing behind him, but he held no remorse. Rishcath was a creature that never should have existed. Empty, without a soul, with out a heart, emotions, or anything related to the world the were now in. Rishcath should not be alive. Yet he was. He was the impossible made possible. All thanks to the dark magic of Tanmorin. The brother world of Tanmari. With each world, came a power. Tanmari was of the Light, Tanmorin of the Dark. Each was a world where dreams were once made into reality, so long ago. Twin worlds, yet one turned to darkness. 
 
Rishcath turned his head back, and stopped moving, looking back to Ashowan. He chuckled humorlessly to himself. A laugh that there was nothing, yet so filled with darkness, it nearly dripped off of the sound of his voice. He just stood there for a while, watching her struggle to move, to heal herself. He then turned his head once more, looking up into the night sky, or what was left of it, for dawn was approaching. 
 
"Soon, all three moons shall be shown. And then, it will truly begin." He said darkly. For he knew what was to come, he had read the Scroll of Twilight. He knew what it was he had to do. 
 
Rishcath once more turned back to look at Ashowan, and as he spoke, his voice was empty, emotionless and cold. 
 
"The story I told you, of how I destroyed Siltharyn's life. Entertaining was it not?" Truthfully, Rishcath wouldn't himself know. "But just remember, things are only real and true, from a certain point of view." Those were his last words as he turned to the Lost Fields, he took three steps, and then vanished. 
 
But Rishcath left behind him a cold promise and a chill in the humid summer air. And the tree where Ashowan had been pinned, the holes in it glowed red, before they froze over with ice. This wasn't the last time Ashowan would see Rishcath, for he had taken a rather special interest in her. His cruel emotionless chuckle still echoed over the Fields, leaving Ashowan alone with only herself, Terry, and her thoughts. 
 
((Well as you can tell Windra, Rishcath has left the thread :3 this was fun ^_^ even if it took a long time XD XD but as said, this won't be the last time Rishcath visits your reaper <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/images/emoticons/wink.gif ALT=";)"> Muahahahahaha!!!! XD))

<div style="text-align:center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/ ... llbody.gif" style="border:0;"/> 
In Light, there is also Darkness, and too in Darkness there is always Light, for the two can no more live without each other than live with eachother. 
*---------------------------------------------------* 
When Darkness falls, know it's always good... to have a flashlight. 
 
P.S. Sillyness.... ROCKS MY SOCKS!!!! 
 
Would you rather live free, or live within the prison of your own sanity? 
Your Choice 
 
<a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  <a href="http://p104.ezboard.com/fsilversrpinfof ...  
</div>

Post by **Windra** » Mon Aug 21, 2006 12:01 am

[Whoosh! Yaypost!]

Post by **Windra** » Mon Oct 09, 2006 7:38 pm

Plumes of carbon were all that escaped her maw for the longest damned time. Fingerless-gloved hands clasped at her throat, feeling for that gaping cut, the abysmal stretch of scar tissue that went from one side of her neck to the other. The symbol of her death – a condemnation to what she was doomed by and doomed to. Globules of blood caked onto her nails, cold as ice and coagulated into clots. The entirety of her head felt as though encased by a glacier – so cold. So damned cold …

It didn’t help, then, that the atmosphere suddenly seemed like winter. Chilled and frosty, untimely season. Did the weather change or was that just the effect of the sword? Of it’s uncanny ice magic or because of the bloodletting? Why hadn’t she fought back, had the strength or will, or skill, for that matter? A quicker reaction would have knocked the demonic shadow away. A little more strength would have pulled that sword out quicker … But now, energy was sapped. What the hell did the blade do?

Rishcath’s words … Emerald eyes turned up hatefully to face the Zunhal. Anger for hurting her. Despising for threatening to hurt Siltharyn. For the mischief, the mayhem, the distress he'd forced the wolf into before she'd even come here: forcing her to watch as each family and pack member was slaughtered by one of their own. An urgency welled up inside.

Terry was screeching. Gaurdianship over something that belonged to the Otherworld took over. Gravelings looked after their own in a queer sense, but also kept an eye on the Reapers. Just as Grims would make sure Gravelings didn’t go too far, Gravelings would keep the Reapers in line. And both would make sure neither was destroyed in such a way that would upset the balance of life, death, and the afterlife.

And just like that … before Ashowan could speak … Rishcath was gone, leaving the world, the wounds, the open scars and the bloodstained grass in his wake.

Covering the neck cut with one hand, she slowly stood. Stumbling once and tripping forward, but gaining composure before risking a hit to the earth. What was … Ashowan pulled her palm away and looked at it, soaked in red, the leather glove shimmering with dead blood.

”What are you …, “ she whispered, to Rishcath but nobody in particular, since he was not here.

She turned, suddenly weak and needing to lean on something. How quickly the world started to spin! Lurching for the tree, she held both hands out, striking the tail behind her in a pose to help her balance. And then she noticed the glowing red gashes embedded in the bark: glowing scars of another sort, freezing cold expanding to the cells of the tree, and to the roots, ultimately fating its death.

Sudden worry. If he could do this …
Vanish and appear like shadow.
Condemn things with magic of artic.
Reach inside the darkness of the body … forcing a blade in deeper …

What the hell could he do to … ?

”Siltharyn,” Ashowan choked, now certain that what she thought was a bluff on Rishcath’s part to get her torked was not just fiction. “Siltharyn … Rishcath, just what the hell are you planning to do to her?”

Lost Fields, plague, antidote, draconic heritage, ghosts, and condemnations. All these things mattered not, and would be dealt with. But whatever the case may be, the werewolf was in danger. And Grim Reaper or not, Ashowan still had the ability to give a damn.

Siltharyn was under threat of great harm, ethereal of concrete, and Ashowan would do what she could to protect her.

If her creators didn't like it ... tough hell.

”When all three moons show, huh?”

Sweet Dreams Nocturne (Blue!)

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