Destructed World Cacophony IC

@Psyker Landshark @Click This
They rose. Neither attaining an optimal answer nor deciding to gamble for a high return, they ascended to the blue void, bodies plastered against the rubble as they looked for something safer, for a threat, for anything that would give them a stimulus or an impetus that they could react to, that would force them into action. But other than that passing blackbird, nothing happened, and they continued to fall, higher, higher, higher.

The terrible azure abyss embraced them, the warmth of a mother closing into them as they disintegrated like the rubble, bodies crumbling in the annihilating light. From dust they were made, and to dust they returned, drifting into the new world.

@Asuras
She struggled. Pushing against the limits of her body, ignoring her internal screams. Her heart pounded violently, the ice cold water countered only by her body heat as she pushed further on. The man who was with her was farther away now, too self-absorbed in his own trial to really look back and see what was happening. She was being left behind. Abandoned. Discarded. Fear encroached, and in that moment, she tried to yell for help. Water filled her mouth the moment she opened it. She sputtered, her muscles locked, and she flailed.

Her body sank, the lady still convulsing, attempting to breathe despite being unable to. One foot caught into the black abyss, disappearing. Then another. Then her stomach. Torso. Arms. Neck. And, for that instant as she was neck-deep in black mud, she realized that she could breathe properly once more.

Then, her head sank as well, and she fell into desecration.

@Jakers
He swam, the ticking still ringing incessantly in his ears, blind and deaf to the world around him. There was only a singular road now, a road of pure water that veiled a dark abyss that they could not escape from. The shots that changed the world went unnoticed as he shut off all unnecessary information. Swimming was rhythmic, something that he could do for as long as he needed, provided he didn't think of anything else. He isolated himself from the world, from his own body, pushing, pushing, pushing for that self-perceived notion that reaching the obelisk was an accomplishment.

The water gave way beneath him, and suddenly he fell onto dry ground. Beside him was a still-warm corpse, half his face missing. A familiar face. The one that told him to name a bunny after him. In the distance, he could now see three other corpses, all once lovely girls, their blood staining the white ground.

Staining, or fertilizing?

The yellow-eyed devil looked down on him, and though he struggled, his limbs had lost their rhythm, and with it, their strength. A cracked, twisted, broken foot slammed into his head over and over again. Red splotches replaced white, until all he could see was scarlet. Scarlet darkness.

@Zombehs
He was alone in the world.

The blue void had devoured everything, and only the obelisk stood untouched, a black mark against the destructed world. Below him was a jet black void. Around him were unseen pillars of gravity that he had to duck into the waters to avoid, swimming silently. His blood was seeping out of his body, but regardless, he persisted.

After all, even if he was alone, even if he was wounded, he was still a true soldier.

Around him, the world continued to break, the ticking continuing to persist, until suddenly…

It stopped.

The world was silenced. Water stopped falling. Rubble stopped cracking. All he could hear was his heart beating, an eerie tranquility settling over the place.

GU DONG. GU DONG. GU DONG.

It was breaking.

Fractures ran up the sides of the obelisk, a thousand fissures spilling out the radiance that rested within. It was loathsome, but beautiful, an ugly blessing that marred the splendor of the sky-scraping tower with its luxurious opulence. Before his captivated eyes, the stone tower crumbled, revealing a shaft of golden lightning. It stayed there, transfixed for but a moment, before lancing out at light speed, disappearing with nary a sound.

Now, there truly was nothing in this landscape but a watery expanse.

Up above, the gray sky peered down at him, watched him fight. Fail. Fall.

Disappointment.
Unseen, unheard, unnoticed, he walks through the Dropout District, drinking in the decadence. A lady in a bawdy costume hooks him by the arm, but he slides out of her grasp effortlessly, a waltz that sent him weaving into the crowd. His black eyes glance at the crook of his elbow, at the canister slipped inbetween it.

The Jade Snake glimmered back.

Unseen, unheard, unnoticed, she closes another book in the archives of the Hugo Memorial Library. The book slides in deep, before falling into a hole in the wall. Another secret kept, another miracle forgotten. Her scarlet hair drifts over her eyes, a veil against the influence of the world, as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

The Rose Sigil shimmered and disappeared.​

Unseen, unheard, unnoticed, they stand at the pinnacle of the Council Tower, the thousand lights of the school absolutely below them. The night wind rises, a cold autumnal bluster, but they stand unaffected, their gazes trained at the horizon, at the unknown. The leader's amethyst eyes flashed, a secret smile emerging. A fingersnap, and five figures disappeared.

The remaining one stretched out their arms and cradled that terrible, wonderful unknown.

"Now…shall we begin?"
.
.
.
<Your LOVE is False>
<Your WISH remains unfulfilled>
<World Destruction Complete>


Destructed ✧ World ✧ Cacophony
The Second Toll
Destruction | Resurrection | Perfection​
 
  • Nice Execution!
Reactions: Jakers

~ ~ ~​

r e d .

The devil had overwhelmed him. His delusions had overwhelmed him. He may of thought he'd had a chance, but it was over the moment he started. It was over the moment he thought simple survival was the priority. He was just another piece of trash for the world to throw out. And all he learnt about himself was his own ignorance, his own selfishness to pursue his own path that he masks with pretending to care about others. Because all he can do is hide. He hides.

The ticking and endless, high-pitched ring in his ears intensifies until, with a small pop, it subsides completely, leaving him with only a vision of pure crimson. The red color begins swirling in his dead eyes, mixing and bubbling as if it were blood, dripping down the edges of his vision as the sound of rolling dice scatter across the unseen floor around him.

And then, a figure approaches. Her shape is familiar, but her body is a mass of dripping blackness - the blackness of the void that consumed her. He remembers. He remembers how he forgot and left her, leaving her to die alone because of his own, deluded false goal. Her contorted black mess of a body twists and screams, before countless others join her own.

He recognizes that one. The one he cheated into poverty and starvation.

He recognizes that one. The one he rolled into a chasm of abuse and drink.

But now, there is nowhere to hide.

At the head of it all, the girl of dripping black stops screaming. Her void of a body slowly approaches him, and her eyes light up into two beacons of white.

And she whispers.

" f o r
t h i s
y o u
w i l l
b u r n . "

The figures disappear, and suddenly, the redness becomes flames. His paralyzed body lays sprawled on a pyre as his mind becomes overwhelmed by screams and insults of faceless, unknown rioters in dozens of different tongues. He occasionally feels the impact of spit hiss against his burning body as the nonexistent dice still rumble around him.

And finally, the dice land. The numbers are called out in a series of rage-filled screams and cries.

1 - 1 - 1 .

His sins suddenly can't be contained inside his body anymore, and the flames around him suddenly erupt and turn black as his flesh does the same. He is in agony. And he wants nothing else other than to escape. Without a mouth he yells, and without tear ducts he weeps as his karma finally catches up to him.

Within the crowd of faceless people, three figures suddenly step forward at the front of the crowd to get a closer look. His mother and father have their arms on the suited shoulder of his younger brother. Their perfect replacement. As they watch their disappointment's flesh roast, they smile and converse as if they were at a picnic. The sinner slowly turns to ash, and his parents and sibling celebrate it with wide, demonic grins.

He knows there will be no more ceremony. There will be nothing more than insults. And his dreams of creating something brilliant were all just another mask against the simple reality: that everyone will be glad when he lays dead.

The gambler cries soot and his body wails flames as all he seeks is e s c a p e .

He would do anything to e s c a p e .

b u t
y o u
c a n ' t .

​
 
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[fieldbox= Caelan Lughr / ???, royalblue, solid] How long had it been? Left to drift in this empty world, he had long discarded most of his belongings lest they drag him beneath the still waters and into the darkness below. Even weary as he was, Caelan still recalled the moment when hope had disappeared; the one landmark in this otherwise barren yet pristine world. He would have turned to where the obelisk had once stood, but in all directions lay the same sight; a gray empty sky that stretched until it came down and touched the watery horizon. A tilt of his head let him drink easily, but the water did little for his hunger.

With only a moment of hesitation, Caelan reached for the flask that drifted next to him, chained to his belt. A gentle shake let him feel the liquid as it sloshed inside against the walls, and with a heavy sigh he twisted the top off. Tilting the flask, he shivered as how cold the liquid was. Grimacing as the fluid slid down his throat, almost like pudding, he coughed a few times after he'd managed to stomach the meager supplement of blood… The taste had been stranger than it was unpleasant, and, unsurprisingly, such a little amount did little to alleviate his hunger problem.

The gray sky greeted him again when Caelan opened his eyes. His expression twisted as a hand clutched at his waist, and his body writhed at the pain of wakefulness. Was there any meaning to clinging to his life in this empty world? With a maddened and defiant roar to be heard by no one, he turned to sink below the surface. The time that had passed made him weak, but furious at the hand he had been dealt pushed Caelan towards the darkness that engulfed the world beneath the waters. Better the unknown than to waste away slowly and pitifully.

The roar that awoke and defeaned Caelan was unfamiliar only in its intensity. Fingers clawed at burnt earth as he forced encrusted eyelids open, and then sat up. If hell had come to earth, he imagined the scenery would not have been much different. The air made each breath painful; the heat, vapors, and stench forming an atmosphere that was enough to kill.

Tears streaked down ash caked cheeks, and Caelan numbly looked around at the horrors as they unfurled around him. Great beasts tore regular men and women to pieces, showering the battlefield in a constant mist of blood. Their dying cries abruptly silenced, or left to wail on and add to the twisted symphony. A towering figure covered in armor black as night strode forth and crashed against the twin lions dragging a gore-caked chariot. The impact cast up a cloud of dust, and as it rolled over Caelan he could feel something splat against his cheek. A hand wiped the gray matter away and he stared at the trembling stained digits, unable to understand why this was happening.

He had served his country well! Laid his business with them to rest, and left in good repute. He was no deserter. No traitor, regardless what some people said! Though that did not matter to the ones he had hurt, he supposed as he recoiled from a flash that illuminated the smoke-filled battlefield. A thunderclap blotted out all other noise for a moment, and his ears rang as he watched the armored giant collapse, smoldering and blackened.

For a moment there was an eerie still. The sounds of battle raged on furiously in the distance, but in this immediate area nothing happened. A flash of pain rocked Caelan backwards, and he stumbled to his feet in confusion. The wind across the flame-swept field should have scalded, but it felt cool against Caelan's skin and it was then he realized the heat came from within. It built up without care for the body that contained it; each heartbeat a gust of fresh air to fan the flames. The sickening yellow fog that rolled towards him, rotting the land and plaguing the bodies of those unfortunate enough to survive their wounds, couldn't move him as he fell to his knees.

Opening a mouth to gasp in pain, crimson flames spewed forth instead rather than any air. The fog swept over him, but it could not hurt him anymore. The flames within his body scoured the effects from Caelan as quickly as they could take hold. A blackened arm reached out to try and stop him falling face first, but it shattered to ash as he touched the ground. It was a conflagration that threatened to burn him until nothing but ash was left, and, unable to control it, Caelan did just that. In an unknown battlefield, surrounded by carnage, even the ashes were swept away by the winds. But something had been left behind…[/fieldbox]
 
Post theme: Secrecy


Alina was not dead.​

Her body was a crumpled mess.

She didn't have to analyse to figure that much out.

She blinked the blood from her eyes as her head tilted back against the obelisk.

So, we got there in the end, huh?

...That was odd.

The thought was not information.

Normally, it was pure facts, figures, numbers, statistics.
This time it was a sentence.

Am I going to die?

Through blurred red vision, she looked at the world she had landed i--

the blood was the destruction was the grey entirely an irrevocable the gravitec phenomenons as seen facet of the from her own body, world around her specifically leaking around the world stems from kinetic energy fluctations from the sun was not actually a sun wounds she had as she knew it, but sustained from blunt impact from the fall, in which she was thrown up into was in fact the sky by a as a result of distorted space used figure with superhuman strength, an existence more comparable stemming from her to create the world that of a abilities granted as a creation of the by the Bell Bell Bell Bell

I'm doing this completely wrong.

That much she knew.
Physically, she was screaming.
Of course I am. The information is too much for a single human.

Her identity was in pieces.
There used to be just one soundless voice, whispering numbers to her mind.

Now there were dozens, maybe hundreds. No, thousands.
For everything she could see, there was a different voice, eager to narrate at great length all about it.
But not one of them was her own.
They spoke of their own thoughts, not of hers. They spoke of what they could see and what she could not.
So she had to tune them out.

It was not a lot of work to organise them, to arrange them.
Channels of infinite knowledge whispered in her head.
No wonder her thoughts formed a sentence now.
Her inner analyst was not a person, but an army.

She didn't notice as she killed that which was replaced.
[glow=silver]
She observed.
[/glow]
If the sun had eyes, her own would have made contact.

Well then, hiding Bell. Let's see just how long you'll hide from 『Me』.

The world went dark.
 
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=============
Madelon Vallois


Was she crying? Water blinded her to her own feelings, frantically trying to reach that prospective end; a respite from this increasingly maddening realm. She coughed and spat as her arms and legs struggled to keep herself afloat, terrified of the abyssal portals forming beneath. It was as if she were swimming in the sky, expending all of her soul in keeping up the impossible, all to avoid falling from an infinite height. Would she strike ground? Would she continue falling forever?

Both possibilities kept her going, though it wasn't enough. Madelon cried out with no meaning upon her lips. A helpless, garbled cry as her mouth sunk below water over and over. She thought... no, begged for all this to be a dream. It must be a dream; such an insane place was the stuff of nightmares alone. The people felt so real, and yet, as she began to drown, she had hoped, too, they were not real. She shut away her empathy, as if trying to make it all true.

A last gasp escaped her as she fell.

The transition was subtle. A pressure crept around her ears, deafening her to the rumble of monoliths being broken into oblivion above. It grew and grew until... Madelon choked on nothing, instinct kicking her lungs into grasping for something her mind had not yet realized was unnecessary.

For in death, breath was breathless.

She reached above in absolute darkness, touching nothing, and hoping for anything. She begged in her mind for the merest touch of anything, be it a mote of dust or the massless rays of a light beam. Was she sinking? She could feel no air with which to determine travel. No pull of gravity. No reference of direction. She was merely there, pointless in total darkness.

Eyes looked to nothing, searching for anything as her hands did. Wide and teary, she did not dare blink in fear that 'something' may appear and be missed. She felt as if her eyes would bleed from how fiercely she stared, and then, light shone forth from 'below'.

A golden eye of indescribable identity sat at the bottom of infinity, illuminating all that never was above it. Madelon smiled, briefly, as she felt as if her existence were becoming more and more 'real' the further she sunk; like this divine gaze was focusing upon her... Making her 'real'.

Her smile turned into a frozen expression, unable to morph into anything else.

For what became of her senses was no earthly sensation any change in her visage could express. Her muscles, her mind, her emotions themselves had suddenly lost all viability in this world that the eye illuminated. The only thing that could be known by the girl was a 'fear'.

A fear so intense it had no word to it. No way of description. No qualia a philosopher could ever hope to discuss, much less make certain as existing. This fear was an incarnation of something Madelon's body could not fathom... could not stand. She felt as if the very fabric of her being had taken on fear. Fear of itself, fear of all else. She felt as if, in a moment's notice, her body would suddenly erase itself from existence and spread apart at the speed of light, simultaneously.

The word.
The word.
That word.

It crept up upon her, shaking her atoms until her mouth had begun to move. She would speak it. Give it meaning... Then...

A fire incinerated the eldritch essences that infected her soul. The eye began to dim, overshadowed by an unseen light that embraced Madelon. The fear left her, replaced by a warmth she could understand, yet could not remember. It was intrinsic... something she knew at birth, perhaps, but had never experienced, built into her very genes.

Madelon let out an uncontrollable gasp of relief as the pain and fear went away. She put out her arms, as if embracing the untouchable feeling, desiring to take it closer, to feel it as physical force upon her body, and not merely her mind.

Whiteness enveloped her minds eye.

A girl had found an alternative.
A way to prove herself in the most potent manner possible.
A force that could not be ignored.

An answer.
 
[fieldbox=Onyx Norwyn, red]

「Timeless」​
It was 「terrible 」.

The constant feeling of hopelessness. From the moment the blackbird showed, there was a pessimism in the back of his head that told him how things would end. Though he had tried to remain hopeful, the longer the fight went on, the more hopeless he became. Until the very end, and he received an odd sense of satisfaction. Even though he was meeting his end in the worst place imaginable, there was something fulfilling about being able to kill the blackbird.

But, when the barrel of the Contender was pressed against his forehead, that satisfaction faded and reality fully sunk in as he watched the blackbird smile. And then, his vision 「exploded 」and his world became crimson.

-
--
---
----


He felt stiff - as if he was waking up from a long sleep. He remembered this. Blinking, he struggled to peer through the bloody veil that clouded his gaze as everything became clear. The first thing that came into his vision was the vibrant sun that beamed down on him. Except it offered no 「warmth」- the only sensation left in his body being the tingle of the blackbird's phantom grip on his wrist. He could feel a lump in his throat when his gaze drifted to the girl that sat beside him, her facial features obscured by her raven-colored hair. Slowly, his gaze drifted downwards to the clock in her lap, both of their initials etched into the fingers of the clockwork machinations, the gears on full display.

They were at the professor's shop sitting on the patio far above the street. It was years before he went to Ringrange, and he remembered he had made the clock himself. For her. What was her name? He knew it, but there was something keeping him from remembering it. Only then did he acknowledge that there was something wrong. He couldn't move - he could only look. And as he sat, completely frozen, he felt himself grow colder. It was spreading from his wrist, and as he grew colder, he could only watch as the color drained from his world.

Yet, as the world became devoid of color, he felt himself being drained. Catching sight of himself in the reflection of the clock, he watched as he was drained of all color.

Then, he crumbled.

Piece by piece, he was reduced to ash until he was little more than a pile on the ground. But, slowly, he reformed until he stood before himself and the nameless girl. Unable to move, he could only watch as the memory played out as he remembered. The smiles, the muted laughter... Yet, he was still without color, and a sinking feeling filled him when he saw the girl was just as blank as he was.

And, just as he had previously, she crumbled to ash. But she did not return as he did. Frozen in place, as his memories seemed to blur as if time was trying to catch up with itself, he could only watch and focus on the pile of ash. Waiting for her to return. She had to. He felt as if a part of him had been stolen from him - something that left him feeling hollow.

Empty.

He had been「terminated 」.

"This is 「terrible 」."
[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="In The End (but) I Will Not Bow, blue, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"]

??? (Inside One's Own Mind?),
After Defeat
Alone


Ann was assaulted by a swell of sensations and feelings. The first thing the she noticed was the fact that she was alive. But what followed almost made her wish once again for the silence and numbness inside the darkness of being unconscious.

After all the sight before her eyes was another outlandish one, just like the ones in the previous whatever-damn-thing-that-was. Giants, constructed and moved by clockwork, identical like shirts from a textile workshop, on a march towards a monumental gate. No sky to be seen, a vast ceiling in it's place, as the clockwork giants' steps shake the very ground.

Then pain and fear replaced amazement and awe. Her eats suddenly bleed. Her eyes fail her without explanation. Almost like something blew up near her. But then nausea hits as well, shaking that possibility away. Finally Ann's body gives up and she throws up.

And when she turns her senses back to her surroundings she noticed that the ground stopped shaking. That is because the giants stopped as well. They stopped. Ann forces herself to look what happened. And is terrified when the giants now appear to be giant versions of herself, void of any emotions, staring at one of them. Something tells Ann that this one was the one that stopped first for some reason.

And then Ann doesn't feel anything but her instinct tells her something is wrong. She seams to be forgetting something, no someone. Why are her memories full of dark spots where that someone should be, like someone took a candle and burned out a part of a photo or painting? And why can't she remember anything about her father? What was going on? She only wanted her rational, organized, simple yet complex world back. But she was denied this. Her mind was assaulted by fear and hopelessness. Her body limped down, the upper part now only supported by the spine. Her head hanged low and her arms were just hanging without any will. As a tear flows down her face, the facade she always keeps up breaks.

A few moments and a lot of tears later, after what appears like an eternity to Ann, a single word quietly leaves her mouth: "Enough." Then she repeats the word, louder each time, until she screams, as she rises from the ground: "ENOUGH!!! Whoever or whatever is behind this I swear I will end you! Until I run out of blood! Until I draw my last breath! With every fiber of my being! Even if I have to become a monster! I will not rest until you are erased! THIS IS PERSONAL NOW!" Then she waits to see what will happen next, a swirl of emotions locked once again behind a calm and cold silence...​
[/fieldbox]
 
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Wen Xifeng

There was no pain. The only thing Xifeng felt as she quietly expired into the grey sun was warmth. She barely even noticed herself slowly fading away, her body simply evaporating as she rose into the air.

___

She opened her eyes to see a familiar sight before her: a pair of feet clad in masterfully woven golden sandals. Her father's feet. And next to her was...her mother, on her knees, pleading in a language she couldn't understand. Wait, why couldn't she understand? Why wasn't her mother speaking in their native tongue?

Despite her misgivings, Xifeng stared up at her father, who towered over the both of them. They were but as insects within his presence, and all around them were his advisors, whispered laughter and mocking hisses towards the fool whore and her bastard daughter.

Xifeng grit her teeth as her mother was forced into silence, her fury rising. She should have been his heir. Her mother should have been honored as the empress dowager, not cowed into obedience in favor of a fool who had lost the mandate of Heaven and couldn't even supply an heir. Her rage reached a crescendo as she witnessed her mother stomped under the giant's feet, and she rose, screaming a denial as she drew her sword. The girl dashed forwards, only to meet a similar fate to her mother, crushed into a crimson stain on the throne room floor as the laughter around her only grew.

Iron refused to bend. It was inflexible. But brittle. Xifeng's will, sword, and body shattered underneath her father's feet.
 
.
.
.
.snrut tI It turns.
.swols tI It slows.
reven ti tuB But it never
.spotS Stops.​

< Roaring Surf Street >​
@Jakers
He pitches forward, the bonds that locked him in place suddenly releasing him. Stumbling, he falls onto the cobbled streets, at the feet of a couple passing by. The two students look at him strangely, before walking around him. His hands feel the cold stone. His skin feels the night wind. His eyes see the gentle night.

@Asuras
She blinks, the whiteness and the warmth still lingering in her body. Reality, or, at least, one reality, has returned, and she could hear the Morceban ballroom music waft through the air. Her stomach grumbles even though she had just eaten dinner an hour or so ago. The exhaustion, perhaps, also lingered, but…she was 'home'.

@Jageroux
His expression crumbles, all the life (color) sucked out of him as he collapses, limp body propped up only by the stone railings that were beside him. Others glance, wondering if he was truly that distraught at being seemingly rejected by the woman before him. They murmur, before averting their gaze from the unpleasant sight.

@Click This
She starts, the still-hot octopus balls tumbling out its containers and onto her undamaged clothes. The fragrant sauce splatters and stains, but she doesn't take notice. Her stomach clenches, violently so, and she retches, that unpleasant feeling overwhelming her. One of the stall owners cringe at the sight, hoping that the Eirchenstahdt girl didn't press charges. Maybe it just went down her throat the wrong way.

Before them, the Roaring Surf Street was just as eloquent and picturesque as ever, lit up by warmly-glowing incandescent lights. Heavy clouds blanketed the terrible void they had witnessed, and the smell of a variety of foods from restaurants whet their appetite. For all they had experienced…nothing seemed to be wrong.

A dream? A hallucination?

Hopefully, nothing more than that.

And yet, something was still missing.

< Student District >​
@Random @Bob Cut
She gazes on, eyes locking onto the purple irises before her. Onto the person who should be nothing but a mess of flesh and blood at this moment. Whole, but empty. She catches the puppetmaster before she falls over, the body of her acquaintance unmoving. Unmoving but warm. It was a start.

@gamer5
She glares, a violent vengeance burning in her chest, unaware of her surroundings. Her knuckles tighten around the handle of her trunk, the memories of what was lost still clinging onto her, a thick cloud that stained her mind. Somewhere along the way, she had returned to reality, to the peaceful streets she had walked. What was her objective before this? Where had she been heading? It didn't matter now. All that was swallowed by the oath she made.

@Zombehs @Psyker Landshark
She rages. He rages. Adrenaline courses, instincts driven to lightning speeds by their nightmarish visions, hands grasping once more onto the weapons, unable to comprehend the scene around them. But as they calm…

She screams.

Horrifying, broken, the girl they both knew, the one with limbs of clockwork, collapses, her bags of grocery spilling onto the dry ground, her shoulders shaking terribly. A long, long wail that stretches on for an eternity. One that draws them into an eternity.

"Xi Feng!" A short bark and a slap on the back snapped her out of her trance. "Don't get cold feet now! Follow me!"

With that, her senior disciplinary officer marched off towards the screaming girl.

Ah, right. This was still orientation.

Before them, the flashing advertisements and the songs of the merry-makers persisted as they always had, dulled only slightly by the screams of a single girl. There were already Disciplinary Members on hand. The students had no reason to worry about it, even if that girl happened to be the clockwork 'monster' circulating in the rumors amongst first years. The dancing halls continued to have dancers. The restaurants continued to have diners.

The hysteria of one girl wasn't enough to change the pleasant atmosphere.
 
"M A K E
I T
S T O P
---! "

The sinner awakened.

The air suddenly turned to a freezing cold as the young man's low voice emitted a guttural sob; one that slowly died down as his body twitched. The sounds of flames and the high-pitched scream in his ear slowly whistled away into silence. His charred skin and tendons were restored to normal, and he was no longer facing the grinning demons that scared him the most.

Yohan Rye's eyes leaked tears and his throat gasped for air as his brain experienced the euphoria of painlessness. He'd desperately demanded the same thing in his head hundreds - no, thousands of times. Out of some miracle - the best miracle he could ever hope for - his prayers had been answered. Not even able to comprehend the fact he'd returned to the 'normal' world once more, Yohan closed his eyes as he simply enjoyed the moment, ignoring everything around him as he lay facing the night sky on the floor, his voice still tearfully groaning.

"G-God..." he began, his voice cracking. "Thank you... I'll... I'll never do it again, I promise. I'll throw them away now. ...My dice... my..." Suddenly, as he felt them, Yohan suddenly snapped out of his pitiful state, his eyes jolting.

"My dice?"

He could feel them in there. His coat was on. His cap lay softly atop his head. The sound of music was playing faintly in the background. His skin feels the night wind. His eyes see the gentle night. Yohan moved his hand a little, and could feel his suitcase. His mouth lay half open, his eyes slowly panning across the lightened buildings and flowing water as fresh evening air brushed against his cheeks like an angel's kiss.


"How," he whispers, blind to the looks of confused individuals that pass by him and purposely detour around his half-standing body. "It was... so it was..." he swallows, the saliva feeling like sandpaper as it went down his throat. "...Drugged." He told himself at last. That was the first conclusion he'd came to when he was in the broken world. He could remember now. His mind was slowly piecing back together after the torture that had absolutely broken him. He didn't feel the same at all.


As his mind buzzed and looked around, he suddenly saw her.

Her pink-brown hair flowed gently in the wind. Her eyes looked around, as if waking up. And the longer Yohan looked, the more he felt a horrible feeling in his stomach collapsing in on itself. It was guilt. It was questioning whether she too had been in the 'dream', and whether she'd feel spite for him for his actions. But either way, Yohan found himself getting to his feet. He found himself trudging towards her, zombie-like, as if he was dedicated to do something before he did anything else.

Stopping in front of her, Yohan paused. His mouth opened slightly, trying to find words, before he found them.

"I'm sorry."

He fell to his knees, before the changed man repeated himself, his voice but a whisper amidst the ambiance of the Roaring Surf.

"I'm so sorry..."
 
VhkoLdS.png

=============
Madelon Vallois​

A cocoon of heavenly light had become her singular desire in life, coalesced into pure bliss and surrounded by nothingness. If she could simply stay there amidst that love forever, she would be satisfied. Resigned to a deep yet aware sleep; nothing else to be, nothing else that was.

It persisted into a fading potency, diminishing in power and yet just as needed. Anything at all was better than whatever was without that world. Madelon slowly, first, felt air, and then the clothes on her skin, and then the ground beneath her feet. Finally, she felt the pressure of gravity, and then her ears began to hear the familiar commotion of the district. Her eyes remained closed, as if ignoring the obvious fact that she was returning to reality, reveling in those last few inklings of bliss.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry..."

Madelon opened her eyes to find herself exactly where she figured she was. For a brief moment, a scowl appeared on her face, angered by her leave of a mother's embrace. She blinked a few times, raising her hand as if to make sure she herself were truly there, and not merely witnessing the scene as a disembodied entity.

The first thing she could be sure of, was that it was no mere dream; Yohan' behavior was distraught enough that there could be no other explanation. She seemed put-off at first, confused by how repentant he was for 'something'. Did he feel responsible? In those last moments of drowning, had he attempted to rescue her? Was this because of his decision to leave the building. A memory flashed in her mind. A memory of structures ripping into the sky, towards oblivion. Madelon closed her eyes and shook her head with a sigh. Instead of offering a hand, she crossed her arms at the young man's embarrassing behavior. People were watching.

"If you are speaking of when we left 'ze building, 'zen 'zere is no reason for being upset. If I 'ad stayed, I would 'ave fallen into 'ze sky. Drowning was no better 'owever..." she mused, frowning at Onyx. He, too, had appeared disturbed by something. Where had he gone in that... 'other world'? She blinked at him, and turned back to Yohan.

"Stand yourself up. You are making a scene."
 
[fieldbox= Caelan Lughr / Student District, royalblue, solid] He saw a world painted by red, a sharp clash with the peaceful going ons in the Student District. The vivid dream, vision, or whatever it truly remained at the forefront of his memories as the feeling faded from his hands; his grip so tight the digits begin to numb. Xi Feng's presence next to him, started him, but it was the shrill scream that truly shifted his attention.

The voice is only vaguely familiar, but her striking appearance was unforgettable and the scream resembled her death cry just a bit too much. Stepping backwards at the face of a dead girl as it mixed with the gruesome moments before she was crushed, Caelan fought to keep control. 'What the hell is going on,' he thought as his mind raced, searching for answers that he had far too little knowledge to arrive at. Her death in that… world, realm, or whatever caused this? All too likely, but that didn't tell him what he could do.

Oblivious or uncaring to the situation, the other students continued to enjoy their night out. He could feel it with all his senses, and it pushed him to act. This is how things should have been, and he'd damn well see it back, somehow. Traitorous thoughts whispered doubts about such a thing, but he ignored them with action. Following the Disciplinary Member towards the clockwork girl whose name he'd never heard, his staff planted itself into the cobblestone with each step.

While the senior member stopped a few feet away to try and catch her attention, Caelan approached once it became clear she simply had no attention for anything else past her broken stare and attempt to destroy her vocal chords. "Machine girl," he grunted out, hoping it'd elicit some reaction as he reached out to shake her shoulder. Her reaction was faster than Caelan had expected, but he planted his staff into the ground ahead of the clockwork limb.

There was a sharp clang as metal hit metal, and his eyes widened momentarily at the strength the frail girl possessed. He flushed a bit, heart pumping, as he wrenched the staff from cracked stone and backed away. "Well then…" he muttered, trailing off when she didn't pursue him and just returned to her screaming. [/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox=Onyx Norwyn, red]

Leaning onto the rail, Onyx stared hollowly out at the water. He felt so numb. Blinking, he didn't even realize he was back on Roaring Surf Street. With the same dead stare, he looked to the side to see Madelon before looking back out to the water. Was he alive? Pushing away from the railing, it was a pitiful sight when he immediately crumbled to the ground. With his back against the railing, he stared down at his hands as he struggled to breath.

He died, right? He was shot in the face. You don't get shot in the face and then not be dead. Staring at his shaking hands, he cautiously raised them up this face. Gently, he touched his face, as if searching for the massive hole that the Contender should have been left from the Contender.

"I'm alive..." He spoke under his breath in disbelief as his mind began to race. What about the others? Alina, Ann, Marionette? Were they alive too? What about that thing? Did he really kill it?

Looking over to the side, he noticed Yohan apologizing to Madelon for... Something. He couldn't really focus on what was being said. Closing his eyes, he turned and gripped the railing as he pulled himself to his feet and looked over the area. He needed to go find the others, make sure they were alive, but he felt stuck. And as he watched people go past, everything seemed slow, but he knew it was just his mind struggling to cope.

Hanging his head, he just leaned on the railing as he kept replaying the events over and over in his head. The other three were killed, then his wrist... His face.

"Dammit." He muttered under his breath, holding his head as he attempted to focus on the fact he was alive.

And not really, really dead.
[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="Cost and Sacrifices with no Gain, blue, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"]

Student District,
Present Time
Crowd of strangers. Screaming girl. A certain disciplinary member (Xi Feng / @Psyker Landshark ) .


Ann was back in the real world. Almost like all that happened was just a really bad dream. Apparently something was also going on nearby. Some sort of commotion. Ann almost reached for her gun, but then rememberer she had none. But like always she was one to take charge. Wasting no time she approached the only disciplinary member that was not rushing to deal with the screaming girl, another girl, roughly Ann's age. Wasting no time she addressed her: "Miss do you perchance know how could I find some fellow student only by description? Or at least with a name and a description?"

What Ann was aiming for was simple, find those that were also in that place. Discuss things together. Make plans in case that or something similar happens again. So next time they are the ones that come triumphant. She would find Alina, Marionette and that guy. She also pondered if there were more then the four of them, hoping that the answer was negative, despite instinct telling her that that was probably a empty hope...​
[/fieldbox]
 
The first thing Alina did was check the small girl's pulse.
She was alive.
It was a start.
She glanced at the table.
The mug was gone.
That settled it. It had happened.
They had left this world to appear in some, unknown place else, and they had died there.
And then they returned, as if having woken up.

In an instant, a course of action was devised.
First, Marionette would be placed somewhere safe.
Second, a weapon.
Third, to find the other two. Ann. That otherOnyx​.

Her train of thought was derailed by a single word.
That name was not familiar to her. Ergo, the thousand voices were still there.
Whether it was simple psychology or something more sinister, Alina couldn't say.
She knew his name, but nothing else.
She couldn't imagine forgetting an introduction, but perhaps she had lost more than she thought in that place.
She shook her head vigorously as if to dispel her speculation. It wasn't important right now.
A shelter, a weapon, and allies.
And then, Alina noted wistfully as she glanced at the empty table again, some new puppets to replace Marionette's lost ones.
Carrying the short girl on her back, she left, dismissing questions with a simple joke about Marionette's lack of tolerance for alcohol.
The only safe private place she knew well enough to be sure of anything was her own dorm.

And so the two left the night.
 
Heidemarie Krupp
~~~~~~~~~

Heidemarie felt nothing. There was no ceremony of noise nor pain as the grey sun engulfed her, dismantling her very being.

The unnatural world fluttered away around her as brilliant light surrounded her vision. It was the end, but despite her seeming finality, she felt at rest; a serene trance fell around her as if Heidemarie had been parted from her worldly worries. Slowly, she ascended into the heavens, breaking past the barriers of the grey marble beneath her. Gliding forward, clouds of cotton parted to reveal the golden gates of heaven.

Greeting her there was the unmistakable figure of her long-lost brother. The golden metal of his flyer's goggles glinted in the light as the blissful image of her sibling beckoned out to her.

Reaching out her own, Heidemarie gladly joined him. With a tantalizing touch, their fingertips met, but Heidemarie is stopped. The harsh rattle and bind of chains suddenly clashed around her, yanking her from her brother's embrace as the soot black restraints of Eirchenstadht steel began to pull her down. Her arm was perpetually outstretched as she freefell back into atmosphere, screaming her brother's name as his figure faded from view.

Reaching speeds unknown to man, she was dashed against the ground, her body shattering into a thousand shards.

-

She heaved, gasping for air as the innumerable senses overwhelmed her. The lights, sounds, and smells of Roaring Surf Street rushed at her. Heidemarie started with a jolt, and the food forgotten in her hands tumble, staining the white weave of her cloth shirt brown. She made a brief moment of eye contact with the vendor before she rushed to support herself against a light pole, panting unnaturally. Everything around her seemed… normal.

What had just happened? A dream, certainly not?

But as she righted herself, still reeling from the unpleasant feeling, a figure in white across the cobblestone path caught her eye. A figure from a dream? Or a lazy fault of the brain? Heidemarie had seen her before her fall in that wretched building.

She approached, but did not speak.
 
Wen Xifeng

Xifeng jolted with a start as her name was called out, nodding in assent as she scrambled to keep up with her club superior. They happened upon the mechanical girl she'd seen in...whatever had happened to them.

She'd assumed the girl had been seriously hurt or maimed in that strange realm they'd been in. Then...that hadn't been some kind of delusion after all. Or at least, it had enough of an impact to seriously injure her psyche. Against her will, Xifeng shuddered for a brief moment. The thought of supernatural forces with motives she had no idea of and possibly couldn't comprehend simply disturbed her. And to be rendered so vulnerable as a result? Despite herself, Xifeng found herself thankful she wasn't in the mechanical girl's position.

Xifeng glanced over towards her superior.

"She seems distressed." Xifeng said, trying to maintain her composure. "Should we...try to quiet her? Drag her off to an infirmary?"

Before anything else could be said, Xifeng found herself accosted by some other student. She shook her head at the question.

"Apologies, but I'm only a first year. I doubt I'll be able to help you in that regard."
 
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The words.

The words...

What did she say? The words just seemed to bounce off the ears of Yohan as he kept kneeling, his eyes staring into a nonexistent distance; his body stuck in a trance. Passers-by wouldn't stop staring at him. Eyes pierced into him like bullets, and the buildings, the lights, the starry night sky... it all just seemed to dissappear. All he could see was eyes, and Madelon standing above him. What was that look in her eye? Was it hatred? Why had he even come over here?

But suddenly, some words seemed to shake him out of it.

"Stand yourself up.

You
are
making
a
scene."

---=====> * *

"...Wh..." Yohan blinked, looking up. He remembered why he'd come here now. The apology, for... forgetting about her, wasn't it? He paused for a moment, before getting to his knees with a puzzled expression, his eyes squinting as they watched running water flow across the edge of the bridge. Not crystal water. The true, opaque water he was used to. It was a while before the strange, non-talkative, non-frowning Yohan talked again.

"...No, you're right. Sorry for being a fool." He murmurs as he brushes dirt off his knees. "It's just... it may not have been as much of a big deal as I thought, but I forgot about you. I just assumed you could keep going. When I finally reached that obelisk and saw you weren't by my side, I knew. But... if we're here again..." Yohan's eyes scan all the other people. They didn't seem to care at all, but Onyx, Madelon, and himself... they all looked bewildered. Was it really just them who'd experienced all that? And why was Madelon acting so oddly calm about it? Had she not been tortured alive for what felt like an eternity.

"...This..." Yohan tried to begin a sentence, but no words came out. He was utterly bewildered. "We must've been drugged, correct? That's the only explanation. And... and..." But he stopped. With every word Yohan said, he could see more and more people staring at him, wondering what ravings the lunatic would come out with next. He felt himself slowly becoming alien, alien, alien. Sweating under the pressure, Yohan stopped talking, glancing at the crowd that felt like it was building up.

"What are you all looking at?" He began, though his voice wasn't loud enough to be heard. "You don't understand. None of you understand. You didn't have to go through what we did... it was... it was like we'd been transported somewhere else. A hell. And... and..."

As the pressure weighed down on Yohan as every word made him seem more and more insane, he suddenly bolted from the bridge, suitcase in hand and holding onto his hat as he ran away from the scene before his face could be recognized. It was clear to him now. Only a very select few had been transported 'there'. But there was no way he could explain this without looking stark raving mad. He needed to relax. Calm down. Forget everything, somehow. Then... formulate something from there.

The lost gambler ran through street by street, passed lamp by lamp, until he shut himself up in the safety of his own room.
 
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=============
Madelon Vallois​

Distraught. Perhaps more than herself. Madelon could surmise that much of Yohan's behavior. What had he seen? It could not have been what she herself experienced otherwise the man wouldn't have been so absent-minded. Still, she gripped her arms tightly, a subtle action that most might not have even noticed. It was all she could do to simulate that lost feeling.

Melancholy, rather than fear and confusion, was what had disturbed her. With a naturally passive expression, the emotion was hard to discern, even for the more perceptive.

"Drugged?" she replied, thinking. Her frown did not agree with Yohan. She had little belief it was something so simple, but she did not want to appear the more superstitious one of the lot. Madelon would need to think on that one.

As Yohan spoke to the crowd, even unheard, Madelon visibly shied away from him, as if distancing from madness. His sudden dash fettered her little, and the crowd began to disperse its attention; the public display of mild insanity had vanished. Madelon turned to Onyx, then to the skies.

"Tell me, did you see 'anozer person while you were away in 'zat... 'world'?" she asked aside to the white-haired boy.
 
[fieldbox=Onyx Norwyn, red]

Pushing away from the railing, Onyx remained silent as Yohan seemed to have some sort of breakdown. Onyx understood, though - he was barely keeping his composure himself. Yet, he was slowly beginning to feel awkward and uncomfortable as Yohan began to talk to the crowd. Onyx could only wonder what had happened that could have put such mental strain on him. Did he die as well? Was it possible all of them met the same fate?

Standing awkwardly, he watched as Yohan ran away. He couldn't blame him, either. Onyx wanted to run away - he wanted to go find the others, but he felt... Stuck. He felt like his drive was gone - that 'force' that gave him the power to be who he was. Leaning back against the railing, he rubbed his face and sighed.

"Yeah. There were three girls... Ann, Alina and Marionette. The water was rising so we started trying to get to the Obelisk. I... Can't really remember why. I guess we were drawn to it, but we never made it. There was... There was this Goddamn piece of shit that cut us off. It..." He paused, letting out a dry laugh, glaring down at the ground. "It killed every single one of us. Honestly? Dying was a lot more awful than I thought it'd be." Onyx chuckled humorlessly.

"Did the same thing happen to you and Yohan?" He inquired, looking over to Madelon. He had a suspicion that something awful must have occurred to have left Yohan so shook and he couldn't imagine anything more awful than dying.
[/fieldbox]
 
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