Dissentities

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Dawn Bringer Invictus, Sep 20, 2010.

  1. Grave New World

    Overview And OOC Thread

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    [video=youtube;EX9TeOP8FVY]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EX9TeOP8FVY[/video]

    Soulless I have become
    Death now calls my name
    Under a dying sun
    Beneath the frozen flames

    Awaiting in silence, for there is no way out
    Blackened, isolation, for I'm the one with the dead

    Snow like ashes of bone
    The frost now slowly sets in
    (My) seconds in time have perished
    Lucifer! I recall sin

    Time.
    Enslavement.
    For there is no way out
    The walls of sanity vanish into the air

    THERE IS NO CITY OF GOD!
    THERE IS NO KINGDOM OF FIRE!
    THERE IS NO CITY OF GOD!
    UNHALLOWED BE THY NAME!

    The once proud temple of a dead soul
    Becomes as one with the ground
    Envoment by the Serpent's Son
    The reapers scythe is lowered down

    The witches, the priests, the madmen
    Weave their tales of their myths
    The lull of false security
    Guardians of the sane mind

    SATAN BE...
    THY FATHER
    SATAN BE...
    BELOW THE HEAVENS
    SATAN BE...
    UNHALLOWED
    SATAN BE...
    BE THY NAME
    KINGDOM CONE...
    KINGDOM GONE
    ON EARTH...
    AS IT IS IN EARTH

    ANCIENT MYTHS OF MODERN MAN
    AS IT SHALL BE... FOREVER


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    The world around him was a rather unforgiving sight compared to that of his forefathers. Most of it had fallen into a sort of decay in some way, shape, or form. The wars amongst humanity and inhumanity had ended many years ago, leaving horrid wounds across the surface of the earth. The forests he wandered through, on the way to France through Germany, were alive; the plants were green, animal life still made its calls, and the sun still shone. Yet its light was shrouded by the strange clouds of grey and the long, lengthy flat-bodied beasts in the sky and the massive jelly-fish like creatures, floating like de-activated light bulbs like massive cities hiding behind clouds. The beasts and their sounds were not the ones the old spoke of days past. The natural clarity and simplicity was not there, replaced with strange noises, often only half-melodic, twisting and turning as the strange forms they emanated from used their mutated organs to turn the standard call of the wild into the call of the morbid unknown.

    The worst was perhaps the trees. Once man may have found these stalwart towers, seemingly ageless and incorruptible, to be beacons of perseverance and serenity, yet they too had changed. The bark was thicker and it seemed to have twisting patterns on it, some eerily like faces, perhaps those of life that had been lost in these woods. Their bodies seemed to branch out, splitting before they even were submerged into the ground, with wild and long roots, thick as grown men, coiling around one another. The growth of their leaves and fruits and the smaller growths, fungi and litchen for example, upon them had become rampant, turning monstrous and obscene in appearence, like giant festering wounds. They seemed to try to fight one another in prolonged wars of absorption and osmosis, with the victor assimilating the body of the lesser being into itself.

    Yet as they say, modern life is war. He was old enough not to hold secret condemnation of the new life that had risen from the leftovers of the old. Like humanity, they were forced to fight for their survival, perhaps as hard as they did. Yet they never opened the gates and sent forth the violence and the wrath from beyond into this realm; no they were simply collateral damage, damage that had healed, albeit changing in the proccess of that healing.

    No, perhaps this wasn't decay; the world had become uglier, yet it had survived. To some, it had even triumphed and it had adapted. Not just the plants and the animals, humanity as well.

    He was an example of such. The man was of an age unknown and face almost skull like in how the flesh clung to his face. Eerily enough, his sharp, almost undead-like features seemd to wipe him clear of any sort of racial connection; he was nationality-free. His seemed to loom over the rest of the world ominously like some ancient wraith, seemingly floating over the ground. His robes, looking like a sort of formal suit mixed with that of a shroud of some sort. Strange and winding esoteric designs, mostly of gold and white, seemed to trace over the mostly dark green and black outfit. While this was not the appearence of many of them, he was not the only G.R.A.V.E. like this.

    Genetically Reconfigured Advanced Vessels for the Entities were beings of almsot mythical status in the new Earth. Born either naturallly from the freak conditions or in the laboratories of those looking for the next level in human evolution, they were powerful humans or to some, post-humans. Biologically, they were beyond that of the mightiest of men. The five senses plus perhaps a few beyond that were enhanced to legendary levels, and their physical capabilities such as strength, stamina, and speed, were the sort one imagined was only possible in action movies. Their attunement to the Othyrealm and ability to control powers from within and beyond, the latter granting the former, was expertise; they could cause the energies to flow softly like a stream or explode like a raging inferno.

    What made them such heated avenues of discussion though, was the fact that none of these beings was ever truly alone. Possession was not new in this new world, yet being born possessed or with the ability to contain sometimes hundreds of spiritoids was unique to them. Sometimes the ones stored were the size of small birds and housepets, other times those of lions or sharks, and a few of immense power even stored the odd gigantic spiritoids that could be over 33 feet in length. These beings from beyond enhanced the power of the user beyond the the level it was already at and G.R.A.V.E.'s could be rather creative. They could use the spiritoids as weapons, turning a single punch into one that was followed by a storm of ripping pincer-like claws, evoked out of the very space by the beast(s) within. Other times the spiritod, if it was large enough, would seemingly form over the user, like a ghastly sort of illusion they could wear and manipulate its limbs as if it were its own. To the horror of many, they could often evoke the characteristics of the outer beings into their own physical ones. Sometimes their limbs would become half physical and half immaterial, becoming like twisting claws or tendrils, or their torsos would horridly re-shape, as if becoming tough shells or wiry and long predatory forms. This was only some of what they were capable of.

    Only a fool would assume that G.R.A.V.E.'s were truly blessed. Few were able to lead normal civilian lives, twisted by the urges of the otherworldly ones that possessed them and grew increasingly intelligent and sentient as their conscousness reflected unto the possessing ones, progressively granting them increased mental capacity. More often than not, the fearful and the malicious demanded these abominations and risks to whatever remained of societies be eliminated or exiled. Other times they were the pawns of cruel corporations and militaries, used as weapons of war and subjects of harsh experiments. They were sent for the most dangerous of missions, yet were treated as weapons rather than people. Even the wilderness was not truly their ally; stronger spiritoid entities found them to be ideal prey, nourishing themselves on both their dead bodies and their soon to be absorbed possessors. The dangers simply went on and on.

    Sadus had experienced it all; the fear, the power, the violence, the triumph, and the survival. He'd been born naturally, yet had also went through many of what the artificials had to. Once he fought as one of the elite G.R.A.V.E.'s of the Tenebrarum organization, a large mysterious organization, part templar order, part transcendentalist cult, part global military peacekeeping, and part research group. Yet those were days and the memories attached to them he did not dwell upon much. A wandering man, he could have settled down into a state of ease, yet he knew in the stationary life there was no real satisfaction with existence. No, he should wander and in his wanderings, experience things that to him exemplified existence; to burn with life was his goal, until death.

    For years, he'd wander. By foot in the wild and the civilized, by ships of sea and air across vast expanses and oceans, and sometimes through warp gates when the opportunity had presented himself. Now, he walked across these seemingly forgotten paths, leading from Germany into France, through a forest that had sprung up after the fall of the two nations, which had mostly split up into wandering and often warring tribes.

    In France, there had been strange sightings of entities that seemed both spiritoid and human, a strange fusion of the two. Alongsid ethat were reports of their supposedly wild and unusual nature, most likely exaggerated to a certain degree by shocked or traumatized witnesses. Being the restless soul he was, he increased his pace a bit, believing if his map was correct, to be nearing the end of the vast forest and approaching a town of sorts.

    He felt no presence following or obseving him, from here or from behind the veil, yet he knew that a G.R.A.V.E.'s power had its limits and often to rely on his natural skill and survival instincts. A place like this was popular for the wandering barbarians and thieves, the occult warrior tribe-orders, and always the unpredictable spiritoid entities.

    It was dark, still early morning, yet his eyes adapted naturally to the dim. He walked, half keeping track of time, half wondering of the things the newspapers and newscasts back in Britain had said.
     
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  2. No one had told her that night how they'd managed to capture the spiritoids. She knew that they hadn't just come of their own free will, something had enticed them or captured them. Meanwhile, she'd been dragged out of the warmth of her home as the skies darkened and thunder crashed in the air. The only light to comfort her was the crackling lightening and a few flickering torches surrounding a rough alter. "Bring her back! What are you doing!?" her mother cried in the night as the winds picked up and the storm raged on, rain pouring down. "It is time! She has been chosen!" the priest called over the wailing winds. She was just barely entering into womanhood; she kicked and screamed trying to escape her own people, and wondering why they were doing this to her...

    The call of a wild bird, or some other celestial being she had yet to identify, startled her from her thoughts. Crouching low in the darkness and hidden by the twisted foliage, she listened carefully to the world around her. Laughter echoed in her mind, knowing for now she was in control. At any given moment she could become possessed by any of the spiritoids within her body. A prisoner in herself, she was at their whim. Move faster! Quickly! a voice hissed to her as her head jerked to one side slightly. A sharp pain radiated in her temples as she closed her eyes and nodded her understanding. No need for verbal communication. The earth was cool beneath her bare feet, the mud sinking between her toes and almost comforting her, reminding her of better times when she was a young child exploring the wilderness.

    She had to move forward, they were urging her to do so after hearing about the reports in France. They were hungry. While she moved another spiritoid ability allowed her to conceal herself as she slipped into the shadows and moved along slowly through the shadows. All the while the voices argued within her mind, but she stayed focused on her current movement. Suddenly her body was filled with pain and a mixture of almost ecstasy as the voices chorus for her to stop. Pausing she looked around a moment, the dim light reflecting off her now crimson eyes that had turned into cat-like slits. Her breath condensed in the cool morning as she leaned forward and sniffed.

    "There is one near" a deep, feral, voice came from her mouth, her lips curling into a chesire-like grin. Talia was no longer in control of her body, she'd gone into the depths of her mind lost within a dream-like sleep. Sometimes she preferred this state, as she didn't have to worry about the pain and torment she felt when she was awake. Though this was a preferred state, she was still very aware of what was going on in the world around her. As if she were watching it all from an outside party.

    Talia, or more importantly her body, moved forward through the forest with hunger in her eyes. Pausing and peering around the tree she looked forward at the tall, skinny figure of Sadus. There....a live G.R.A.V.E! What luck. Ducking behind the tree again she would continue to follow and strike at the right time. She needed to size up her prey.

    ((sorry for crappiness))
     
  3. Following

    He heard the voice, animalistic and inhuman, yet articulated smoothly. Only an entity possessing a humanoid body would be capable of turning its savagery into the articulate sound of human voice. It came from behind him and left only the faintest of traces. He figured it had not assumed it'd have been heard; the steady pace of Sadus continued and he gave no sign that he was aware of her presence. No increase in mental or spiritual activity, simply the same smooth flow.

    He simply walked, eyes looking towards the rising sun as its bright piercing rays illuminated the paths before him, illuminating the leaves in such a way that made them almost transparent. He saw some shuffling forms retreating into the depths of the twisting roots and camoflauging greenery. Some of the new animal and now mobile plant life thrived in the dark rather than in the sun.

    He noticed that he was nearing the end of the path and a sort of clearing lay ahead. In the distance, the faint sounds of civilization, albeit a rather small scale civilization, could be heard.

    He did not forget about the one following him though.

    As he neared the mouth of the exit from the forest path, he began to gradually slow himself, taking a small cracker from his pocket and eating it.

    He spoke out loud, his voice focused and stern, yet in a way that implied less of hostility and more of a sort of natural firmness to his nature. There was a hint of a British accent in his voice; not completely dominating yet it was there behind every inflection and pronounciation.

    "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

    Now, he simply stood at the beginning of the clearing, looking out to the tall hills and the vague shapes of towers from behind the receding mist.
     
  4. …..As a traveler in a lost world on a lost road, the scatter brained Wanderer pushed on. To describe his vacant thoughts would be too difficult to put into words, instead this is what he saw and felt.

    He Was.

    The Wanderer

    ..Neither hear nor there, an empty soul, entwined with chaos and laced with fear..


    Like a black hole in the depths of a dream. Worse, and more relentless, than the darkest of nightmares summoned from the thoughts of a homicidal, psychopathic maniac. An endless stream of screaming pain and vicious words coming from the mouth of a lunatic off his meds. Like a fifty two car pile up with only one, half conscious, mutilated survivor begging for forgiveness from god and at the same time preying to die; This clearly was some sort of fantasy hell, because if it was earth then we have been in hell all along.

    For too many nights he had walked. In and out of his thoughts, but always on a straight, seemingly never ending road. Many things seemed to be never ending here. The wait - and want - to die, the dark nights and empty, starless sky, the impending doom, the constant paranoia, and the low, always calling, symphony of death that seemed to play endlessly in the distance.

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    Although death meant little to him now, as he had already past into some void, the fact that its sorrowful song played constantly was a an ever-present reminder that there would never be any peace for him. The Wanderer always heard this as he walked, everywhere, all the time.

    His body was distorted, similar to the way a flame distorts the world with heat, but behind the distortion was a definite shape. His Face held an expression of pain, frantic terror, dread and lust all at once. Below his neck, covered by a thick, loosely woven sweater, was the mass of his body. It appeared to be sunken and bent, twisted in a truly impossible way. His arms, of which there were two, swayed like dead branches in the wind as he walked. His left arm was normal, but his right was meatless up to the elbow; It was nothing more than bone, the sub structure was all that was visible. It appeared as if something was slowly eating it, slowly working its way up his body until it finally got a chance to feast on his brain. His legs were normal, for as any road worn traveler will tell you, without your legs you're doomed.


    ..Into the chaos laced with fear, in the dark a tainted mirror..


    Something was in the way. In fact something had been on The Wanderers mind all night. It was something he saw, something that haunted even his haunted thoughts. It was a freeway underpass, like the long ones you may have seen in 21st century L.A.. When he entered, he noticed right away that it must have been some kind of rip in the boundaries, a portal, a void in the depths of an already lost world. All along the walls, on either side, as well as the top, were what The Wanderer could only describe as mirrors. Mirrors with swarming scenes of death in its most brutal form. A man trapped in a burning car, as his skin boiled and cooked he was unable to move. A Women with a long open gash across her neck trying to scream but only managing to gurgle blood. A middle aged housewife that hung from a light fixture by a knotted up bed sheet. As she turned blue she tried in vain to reach the near by chair, apparently she had had second thoughts after kicking it out of the way. A young boy being beaten to death with baseball bats by two older boys, their eyes alive with hate as they swung at his head over and over and over……


    ..Haunted visions come to pass, shaking fear, they grip the glass..


    The wanderers hand shot to his head as his face contorted into a disturbing mix of pain and sadness. However, these feelings had lost all meaning to him and were now nothing more than a general sensation, similar to being cold or tired. The images he had seen under the overpass were no surprise really, but nonetheless something was disturbing him. It was as if an even darker menace was approaching. An even more wicked and demented sort of being that was beyond even the twisted thoughts of The Wanderer.

    ..Glancing at hell through the eyes of the mad, reflecting on the tortured lives that they had..

    Step after step, terror after terror he traveled. Surely this had to come to an end, or a beginning. It was a limbo, a lost world, a tainted road into the unknown and unwanted. Madness followed The Wanderer like the trumpets and horns that played a funereal march in the distance. The continuous hell that marked his every move was personified through the song, it had a chanting like quality to it; Like a homeless madman calling out to some unknown presents on the street corner.

    He came upon an old looking building. It was a single story, victorian looking house.The paint on the outside was a faded gray. In some spots it was rotted through to the framing, in others the paint had peeled away. As he got closer he saw that it was a funeral home. The rising plumes of smoke told him that it doubled as a crematory as well. The scent of burring flesh filled his nostrils as he walked. Just ahead of it was an adjoining cemetery. However this is not what your picturing. Above the grass and tombstones, hundreds and thousands of caskets floated in the air as if they were under water. Some of the caskets had come open and partially decomposed bodies hovered among them. Many of the bodies were nothing more than bone, while others were covered in tight skin with long hair that had continued to grow after death attached to the tops of their heads.

    The Wanderer took little notice and continued on.
     
  5. As Sadus moved she followed in his wake, slipping from tree to tree, her crimson eyes scanning the area carefully. Stopping behind one tree she paused and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the bark a moment. Sharp pain shot through her head as she tried to stay standing. Tears brimmed her eyes as the voices began to argue and pull at her trying to take control. Her eyes shifted again, this time her entire eye was simply black as if she were staring with a void glance. Her teeth sharpened into points and her nails extended some into claws...

    ...The storm continued to rage around her, her world was spinning. She felt the strong hands of her captors dragging her along as her mother pleaded behind her. "Bring her back! What are you doing!"
    "It is time! She has been chosen!" the voice firmly stated. Thunder rattled through the air as lightning cast its eerie glow. She could vaguely register the voices of others, but they were chanting in some other language. She felt like a wild animal being captured, and she acted out similar to one as well kicking and clawing. "Let me go!!" She shouted to her captors as she tried to escape. For a moment she kicked her way free, stumbling to the muddy ground in her nightgown. Scrambling to her feet she took off running I need to get out of here....where can I go I-- POP! Something whized past her head, ducking she looked behind her fear in her eyes. POP! A sharp pain and liquid sensation. The world began to spin and slowly fade...


    Snapping back to reality Talia felt as if she were going to puke. She only vaguely registered someone speaking. It was the man, the G.R.A.V.E. known as Sadus. "Beautiful morning isn't it?" he'd said with a slight British accent. The sound of chewing, and the smell of crackers stimulated her senses as she turned her head a moment. Breathing heavily a moment, Talia attempted to gain control. Still hidden by the tree, she straightened herself and waited to reply. Slowly the teeth and claws withdrew as her eyes swirled back to their natural dark brown color. Her skin was normally pale, but the constant wear of being possessed by the spiritoids had caused her to have an almost death like skin color, ashen to a point. Stepping shakily from behind the tree, she gave a feeble smile, her black hair falling into her face some.

    "Yes...you could say that. How long have you known I've been following you?" she asked, her voice was barely above a whisper, yet still clearly audible. Walking up beside Sadus and standing there looking at the small amount of civilization, her eyes seemed to shift again to the dark masses before settling again on her natural shade. She ignored the buzzing headache. Before she'd become whatever she was, she had been in a small Nomad clan of spiritoid worshipers. Her family had wanted to depart from the clan and seek a life in real civilization, but then her 'calling' had been made.
     
  6. Consquence of Spiritual Existence

    Sadus stood, simply gazing beyond the hills and towards the town. When he spoke, it seemed as if he had suddenly become very reserved. The hidden sense of commanding authority was gone. In its place was what we would assume is the voice of a man who enjoyed to casually speak of the beauty of natural phenomena and the mundane. It was calm and flowed smoothly, better than one would expect from such an alien being. There was no veiled harshness or the feeling that he was holding back immense capability for violence. Rather, there was only the genuine and the honest.

    "Since you spoke."

    He seemed almost speaking of it as if it was as a matter of fact, ignoring her then rather malicious intent. He remained simply staring ahead, hands now in his robe-jacket's pockets. His head tilted slightly towards her direction and his eyes gave only the slightest hints that he stole a glance at her.

    "The entities, they do it for you, don't they?"

    After hearing her or whatever was in her speak of Sadus' close physical proximity, he had noticed something. Some of the noise in the forest was not carried out with that subtle precision of its native inhabitants. Listening beyond the quiet awakenings of diurnal life forms and the hasty retreats of the nocturnal beings, he was able to pick out one sound that was unlike the rest. It stopped now and then, the sound muffled somewhat by leaves and moss, yet it seemed inconsistent, moving when he moved, location changing quickly and irregularly. It was like a child following one he or she idolized, yet not desiring being detected, moved eagerly from mail box to mail box and from corner to corner. The sound however, seemed rushed, as if it was eager to close in on him, and as if its orginator wished to close the distance fast and hard. That was more bestial than it was human; that savage and reckless eagerness.

    Yet he also felt it but not physically. The flow of energy and the reflections, both in this world and the one beyond it, had become rather tense and sharp at this point. It was a sort of emanation, felt on a level beyond the physical and on what some would call the soul while others would call the consciousness. A sort of force brushing up against the sense of one's being, like something violently moving through water and sending ripples towards you from a fair distance away. He may not have seen it, yet he had simply felt its movements through both energy flows. And through these flows, he could feel the very force driving it. Bound in a human body it may have been, but it was not humanoid at all. It had grown sentient and capble of thought; the consequence of mental reflections, when one's consciousness reflects onto a spiritoids and its reflection becomes a consciousness of its own. They must have been with her for quite some time; they were capable of the general first degree throught processes of the "reflected" spiritoids. The creatures were no less savage though, still bound to the often primal and violent natures of their more base counterparts.

    He could feel the effects from years of their command upon her body. Sadus could not pierce past the veil they seemed to have over her, that twisting, angry, shapeless spirit-mass, invisible to the human eye. It seemed to have been born of the violent combination of human and spiritoid, practically being everything about them that didn't mesh well, the refuse one could say. Beneath it, he could feel the accumulations of degradation and what he thought might just have been the dangerous physical changes beneath her flesh the entities must have encouraged. They must have adapted her especially to house them, knowingly or unknowingly disrupting the natural processes, material and immaterial, of her body. He could feel them, twisting and twirling within her as they commanded her mind, pushing her consciousness into the lower depths of her thought, and moving her form as if she was a beast rather than a human. It was not terribly subtle, yet that shroud made of suffering of the disruptive relationship between parasite and host seemed to have some sort of concealment capability. They simply hadn't used it. Perhaps they were unaware of its potential

    "I've felt it. Their consciousness, at the level it's at, you've let them live as you, letting them use you to fight and to hunt, for quite some time, haven't you?"

    Possession was not necessarily unhealthy. When the possessors though, were in control rather than the possessed, except in certain circumstances, there would be trouble. Bodies were known to physically deteriorate into dust from prolonged possesion with no control, sometimes with the host simply dying and the body going on before it finally broke. Other times, it was the excruciating experience of gradually having your soul removed from your body and implanted into a spiritoid or worse.

    In spite of all of this, the voice of Sadus remained steady and calm, strangely welcoming in spite of the legion of entities living inside of him.

    "You were rather determined to approach me. What was it you desired? The flesh? The blood? The spiritoids? The possessions?"

    After he spoke the last question, he turned to her. His face seemed rather relaxed, the facial expression neutral like the one of a man who is balanced perfectly between the positivity and negativity inducing stimuli of life. A light breeze seemed to rustle through the forest, tumbling a few leaves and the occasional piece of trash.
     
  7. Talia stood quietly next to Sadus looking out over the distance. He'd known she was there since she spoke? her mind wandered as she thought back, realizing it must have been when one of the spiritoids had spoken through her. He continued to speak, though not in an angered or threatening manner, just in a matter of fact way. He began to analyze her, telling her he knew what she was. When he finished she remained quietly standing there, a dry breeze blowing through her hair.

    For what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few moments, she said nothing. Her lips, always a dark red color, slowly faded from her meager smile into a stern appearance. Her hands slowly moved up her arms as she began to hug herself, "I did follow you...but that doesn't mean you automatically know anything about me" her voice was lower, still the soft whisper, but it held a dangerous edge to it. Her eyes flashed as the anger swelled inside her like a raging inferno from hell. She felt as if what she'd become was of her own doing and she just allowed herself, meek, weak, and feeble as she was to be taken over. That was far from the truth in her own mind.

    "You were rather determined to approach me. What was it you desired? The flesh? The blood? The spiritoids? The possessions?" Sadus spoke and turned toward her with a neutral stare. Various emotions began to tornado inside her, some being confusion, some sadness, a little elation, and mostly rage. The rage was a hunger almost, threatening to tear her apart. She knew this emotion was probably more from the spiritoids, but some of it stemmed from herself. For a moment the anger seemed to register across her face, but as quickly as it appeared it disappeared and was replaced by a coy glance. Talia slowly turned her head to face Sadus, the cheshire grin spreading across her lips once more.

    "Just because I'm here and followed you, do you really assume that I am the one who desires such vulgarities? I certainly am not something like you, more spiritoid than human, I still am a human" she turned her head again to look out at the civilization, "no...it's not what I desire....what I desire does not matter--" a sadness reflected in her eyes a moment but soon her eyes would shift into the red-slits once more. Turning sharply her hand shot out toward Sadus, reaching for his neck with inhuman strength, "I desire your very essence, perhaps. Or maybe just to see your struggling and squirming as I stamp the life out of you bit by bit. To take pleasure in the simple suffering of others, human or not...does that answer your question?" As she'd spoken her voice began to change to the deep, feral growl once more. She began to tighten her grasp, her nails began to extend into the claws as her skin began to sink in around her bones. Her teeth shaped themselves into pointed razors, "she needs us...and we require you, G.R.A.V.E" she smiled as she prepared to try and kill him.
     
  8. Confrontation

    The hand shot out like a spear, aiming for his neck, but it didn't quite make its mark. As the nails turned into bestial claws, they grazed the flesh, leaving red marks, yet they had been stopped. A single hand had raised in response, simply gripping her out-stretched wrist and stopping her by mere inches from poking five holes into his throat. Yet he didn't seem to change; his expression had hardened, yet he bore no hostility, simply a sort of caution. He was still the same calm, quiet man he was when he first met her.

    "I know you didn't desire those things, Talia. I asked the entities that."

    His next move was sudden. The hands around her wrist suddenly let go and his head shot to the side, dodging her claws. Yet his whole arm extended, wrapping around hers like a vine, travelling forth, until suddenly, his whole hand seemed to have placed itself onto her face, gripping it firmly. His other arm, his left, was raised to block any blows.

    The right arm began to glow and twist, as if reality was suddenly attempting to reject it. It was as if it emitted a great deal of heat, distorting the air around it, but in reality, he was simply getting into her head. He wanted to see the one inside, to grasp it with his own power and those of the ones in him. They felt it as well and some of the more savage ones desired its essence. Yet they had been with him and the others for some time; the relfections had granted them a degree of sentience and self-consciousness unlike most other spiritoids. They knew what he was thinking and what he'd be doing soon, along with how they planned to use him.

    The idea was first to locate and assess a spiritoid, and then using an immense "entity differential", cause a sort of osmosis-like diffusion. This would practically drag the possessing entity and whatever was clinging to it right out of her. He spoke again, now like an instructor speaking to a student. Yet the voice, something was strange with it. He used not his mouth, but rather his arm, using it as a conduit to direct the message right into Talia's consciousness. It seemed almost liquid like in how it filled up her hearing, as if it was all around her, yet also resolute.

    "Freedom, that's what you really want is it? To make your own choices, rather than to carry out another's. You've got the opportunity to help me now and make your human desires real. Make the push and in doing that, make this a bit less unpleasant for both of us."
     
  9. Talia hissed some as Sadus spoke to her. When he'd told her that he'd been asking the question to the entities and not Talia, she only grinned, her head tilting slightly to the side as a soft croaking sound emitted from her parted lips, "I answered" was all she said. She was about to pull back and strike again when Sadus released her wrist. He dodged her attack and soon he'd taken hold of her again, pulling himself into her in a sense. She struggled and tried to escape, but for her it was too late at this point. She felt herself withdraw into herself, along with the entities possessing her, a symbiotic connection between her and Sadus seemed formed as he spoke within her, not necessarily directly to her in normal speech.

    "Freedom, that's what you really want is it? To make your own choices, rather than to carry out another's. You've got the opportunity to help me now and make your human desires real. Make the push and in doing that, make this a bit less unpleasant for both of us."

    His voice seemed to radiate all around her, a giant wave of sound rushing at her and fading away with each syllable. The number of entities that possessed her was really unknown even to her. There were at least four dominant ones, and then Talia herself. At the moment there was just darkness as the entities took to their deep hiding, going places that even Talia herself could not yet access. Yet there was Talia sitting in the dark corner she was often confined to, watching Sadus with mistrustful eyes, "Freedom...or death?" she spoke slowly, her back was to him and her voice quivered as if she were crying, "My hopes and desires don't matter...they never have. Why should I act to trust you or even act in your behalf? Are you not anymore monstrous than them or what I have become?" she was really muttering to herself. Closing her eyes she shook her head, "just...leave me here...to my solitude" tears fell from her eyes and the light around her slowly began to fade away until her corner too was simply darkness.

    Laughter instead filled the void as the atmosphere seemed to drop and a dark purple light seemed to fill the area, "what do you expect to accomplish by coming here? inside to her domain? You want to free the girl? Save the girl from our grasp? She chose to house us...what is done cannot be undone. Let her die in peace" the voice spoke moving forward, the same dark purple haze as the lighting, "or are you afraid that we will have a feast of you yet?" It hovered momentarily before Sadus, a wispy hand reaching forward before fading within itself and vanishing. Darkness. Silence.

    Red flares of anger then burst forward as another entity made itself known. A much more hostile and unpredictable one, it lunged out at Sadus first without a word. Taloned claws attempted to pierce whatever connect Sadus might have with Talia, "she is ours!! You cannot take her away! We will not cease to be if our vessel is broken! We will hunt you down!" it snarled and laughed almost with a hyena like fervor, "Death is not an end for us!" Charging once more it attempted to sever the link but suddenly it vanished too. Darkness.

    A dreary feeling overcame everything as a deep midnight blue seemed to resonate around the area, the temperature seemed to drop as dead eyes formed with a flame, looking forward almost blankly, "what is your purpose..." the eyes hovered around scrutinizing, delving, searching. It was a stare of contemplation and thought and yet one that made you feel that this was dangerous. Razor sharp teeth appeared below the eyes smiling manically, "Darkness resides in all our hearts...you should embrace her as one similar of kin. Do not tear us apart, we have done no harm to you--yet. Her choice was long ago made..." A soft sigh, and chuckle. Silence.

    The final entity to speak seemed to carry their self with an air of ultimate authority, or perhaps that was just part of the game. A small orb seemed to hover around, radiating a warm light, "You are trying to disassemble us and destroy us? Have you thought that if you destroy us you kill Talia? We cannot be taken out of her by mere force, least you want to have the blood of yet another mortal upon your hands...leave us now and we will give you peace for the time being." It was a level voice, almost angelic, and with authority, "This does not have to end for any of us. As you may think you are helping Talia, we may be able to assist you, but we need Talia to do so." As it finished speaking what might be wings of light suddenly wrapped around the orb and there was a tremendous force of energy that would attempt to knock out Sadus' connection.

    While he was leeched onto her, she suddenly gasped and opened her eyes, returning to reality as she looked around, "Let me go!" her voice rose now above her usual whisper, "Help! Help!! I'm being attacked!!" she tried to shout to anyone who might be around. Her eyes, normal; her skin, normal; her demeanor, normal; gave no sign of the four entities that had just spoken, each in turn, to Sadus. It was as if she'd been wiped clear of memory and was clueless as to what was transpiring minus the fact that a possible G.R.A.V.E. had their armed wrapped around her like a vine, the hand grasping her as if it might be trying to steal her soul. Her plea of help was genuine as she tried to pull herself free.
     
  10. Ganz walked up to a tree with a little piece of glass. Using a claw he scrapped off a few pieces of the moss type thing that was growing on it. It wasn't natural, neither was the tree. Not any more. He brought the little piece of glass into his home and to a table with a make-shift microscope and slid it beneath the lens. He examined it closely, after a few moments he took a little dropper and dripped a tiny drop on the moss. Ganz watched as the moss reacted to the liquid, growing more where ever the liquid was, then suddenly becoming hard. Gans made a note to himself. His theory confirmed, he was thinking of how to make the liquid in another form...and then he heard the cry for help.

    Ganz stepped back outside, feeling the sunlight on his bare torso, long triangular marks coming from his spine going around his sides and the points ending at his stomach. He had six of these markings. Three on each side and two shorter triangular marks coming over his shoulders. Where they meet along his spine they are connected by a long mark resembling his spine but looking very tribal. There are also some facial markings coming down his forehead ending at his eyebrows. Ganz scanned the forest, the trees not hindering his sight. He spotted two people at a distance, we was going to leave them alone and go back to his work but he noticed dense concentrations of energy. Spiritoids. "Hm" he jumped a few times, closing the distance quickly between him and the two. Landing a ways away, he walked through the forest, bare feet silent against the ground. His presence barely registers to magical senses. He walked out and stood by a tree, watching. Ganz looked pretty normal, his arms a bit longer than normal. But what was not so normal about him were the horns on top of his head, curving back along his skull, his clawed black left hand, and his red eyes. His pupils were normal, the iris shape was normal. But the color was unnerving, peering deep inside the pairs bodies and souls. Many Spiritoids within these two...
     
  11. Dissenting Entities

    He responded in that reverberating voice.

    "Maybe I'm further down the chasm than you, perhaps I haven't fallen as far, but I don't recall many monsters being altruists at heart."

    Something seemed to glow in the walls of her own mind and soul; a sort of snow-white mass, amorphous and fluctuating. It seemed to start off as a sort of flat colouration on the walls of her thoughts, but it grew in size and dimension, becoming like a long and almost invertebrate shape. Twisting limbs seem to burst out of it, thin-bodied and wriggling. They gripped onto the walls, spreading a sort of strange force, one that seemed to slowly twist and distort the walls of her consciousness.

    "Hopes and desires, your own matter the most, not to those cunts that keep on trying to tell you otherwise. You've come this far, no going back now. I've heard out hundreds of beings just as, if not more, desperate. I've taken twice as many back from beyond the point of no supposed return."

    Something thrashed violently from within the piercing white and now partially silver amorphous mass. A cluster of eye-like organs formed on its front, peering around cautiously. They seemed to part at the center, and another inhuman shape burst through. Its general form was amorphous and shifted like a single-celled organism, yet it retained a sort of general shape. Through its transparent motley green-yellow membrane-body, various organelles could be seen, shifting around inside and moving around their innards, keeping the thing together. Behind it, a cluster of cilia and a few spine-like shapes seemed to shake frantically, propelling the creature forward.

    It simply floated, detached from the strange energy-flesh bridge it used as a breaching point, descending to Talia. Long and wavy tendrils seemed to emerge from it, moving lazily towards her, yet they didn't make contact. Rather they encircled around her, just a few inches from making contact, as the creature turned around, its back now facing her yet its "face" facing all the spiritoids inside of her.

    In his mind's eye, Sadus simply watched with calculating intent. In the physical realm, all one would have seen were some rather furrowed brows, adding to a facial expression of careful focus.

    The voice of Sadus, rather than emanating from all around, simply came from the strange spiritoid he had inserted into her mind. With each word it spoke, a strange eye-like organelle floating just outside its nucleus would grow a sort of radioactive green.

    "She seems to have made a rather poor choice then, but it couldn't have been as bad as choosing to attempt to sneak up on a veteran G.R.A.V.E. of the spiritoid wars."

    The radioactive green seemed to change suddenly, becoming a sort of intense blue, as if the eye was lit aflame from the inside out.

    "I've feared many things before, yet I've denied even more. Courage is not the absence of fear but simply putting the boot down on it."

    The tendrils now touched her flesh, yet rather tenderly, as if she was fragile enough to scatter into a thousand pieces by a slight miscalculation of force. They seemed cool, emitting no heat, and surprisingly soft. They were not so much holding her as pressing against her softly.


    Back in the physical world cuts suddenly appeared upon the G.R.A.V.E.'s arm as if an invisible blade had sliced him. Teeth gritted and his eyes twitched slightly, yet his grip did not falter.


    In the war within their spectral selves, the spiritoid standing in front of Talia protectively seemed to simply look back into the latest spiritoid, its glass-eye gaze defiant.


    "Kill you? No, I don't need to kill something to deal with it effectively. Uncreation works just as well."




    "My purpose? You know the true meaning of my name, don't you? I'm a judge you could say; you've done no harm to me, but you're despicable in my sight, what you've done to her. That's enough for the retribution I'll be dealing."


    The eye then looked off to the side, facing another one of the possessing spiritoids.



    "I've got an exit plan of my own, one that doesn't involve people who were attempting to hunt me down a few minutes earlier."


    In the outside world, a small smile played onto the face of Sadus.


    A sudden shock travelled down his bleeding arm, bits of red lightning-like energy flashing as he fired something powerful right into her.


    From the inside, it seemed that the whole world suddenly shook violently. The walls of consciousenss suddenly seemed less like a wall and more like some liquid-sheet. They shuddered and shook violently and the place seemed to fill with a sense of thickness, as if there was suddenly a lot of a sort of heavy fluid floating around. The scenery around them seemed to break and detach from the landscape of her mind as if a tidal wave an through it.


    All around them, it seemed to be pure disorganized madness, floating around in a sea of debris and shattered mental architecture, yet beneath the half-transparent madness, a bubble seemed to have formed around the entity Sadus was controlling and the soul of Talia. With the construct protecting them, the entity turned around and looked at her. Despite its alien appearence, it seemed strangely relaxed and un-intimidating, watching her as if it was her guardian.


    It wrapped a tendril unto her shoulder and turned her around, firmly as an adult does to its child, yet carefully and kindly, like one person trying to return a missing belonging to another. Another went to her chin, crooking the end of the limb like it was bending a hand down from its wrist, and pushed her chin up slowly, until she was looking into its calm blue eye, now like a single large gemstone.


    The voice spoke again.


    "Stay here, Talia."


    It patted her on the shoulder, and then lept through the bubble and into the sea inside her own head. Dashing over to the white bridge, still standing stalwartly, it drove its tendrils into it, and suddenly, began to glow a dark red.


    Less than a second later, there was a bright flash.


    Where once stood the amorphous entity, now stood a strangely humanoid shape, over which a strange armour with the complexion of the tendril-entity stood. Its face was obscured by a skull-like mask and like wings, tendrils trailed behind it, now thicker and armoured. In each of its clawed-hands were two large and black hand-scythes, the sort that could be combined at their blunt ends for a single large one.



    All of the strange water-substance was gone; the entity simply floated.



    Whatever it was, it said nothing, and simply looked back at the spiritoids, raising both scythes, and assuming a fighting stance. A few words were spoken, in a sort of determined voice.


    The eyes of the reflection of Sadus' soul looked at Talia, transmitting an unspoken message of understanding and sympathy. Suddenly, it dashed forward, a barrier of energy seemingly encasing it and becoming sharper at the front, as if it was a great bolt meant to smash through armour. On he dashed, right into the possessing entities, scythes raised.
     
  12. As Sadus made his form known within the realm of Talia's vessel, the four main spiritoids had gathered and hovered in a small line. The first to have appeared remained in its ghostly shadow form the purple light surrounding it and shimmering in and out of luminance. The second flickered with anger and anxiousness, weaving back and forth with quick jerking motions, it took on more of a feral animal form. The third was almost like a Grim Reaper, its dead eyes its strongest feature followed by its razor sharp teeth, a cloak of midnight blue wrapped around it. Finally there was the fourth entity, still its pure white light with feather like wings folding and unfolding about it. It seemed to have added an amour as well as Sadus came charging forward with his scythes.

    The entities never flinched or faltered as he charged, they simply stood there waiting, as if embracing the chance to cease existing once and for all. No fear or regret of any sort emitted from their celestial selves as their doom loomed closer and closer with all intent of 'freeing' Talia. As Sadus would strike there would suddenly be a blinding flash of light and the mournful screaming of a woman.

    ~~rewind~~

    Talia had watched everything so quietly from her corner. The four entities she'd been possessed by she'd gotten to know very well over the many years. She'd long ago lost track of how long it had really been, as time seemed to stop for her once she'd become their vessel. None of the spiritoids had really had any names when first they'd become bound inside her, but she secretly had always called them by names to keep track of whom was whom. The first entity to have spoken to Sadus with the dark purple aura she'd referred to many a time as Desiderium. Regret. The reminder of what she had become and the memories of so long ago. The second with the red aura and angry temperament she referred to as Animositas. Wrath. Obvious reasons remained for her name of this entity, the one she most often feared. The third with the void stare and razor teeth she referred to as Nex. Death. Seeking wisdom and knowledge but ultimately a crazed killer behind the calm exterior. The last entity she was unsure of, but she felt most calm when they were in control. She referred to the entity of white as Patronus. Protector.

    After Patronus had spoken it seemed as if the world were shaking. In the outside world, Talia's face would contort into an uncomfortable frown as she continued to squirm to try and free herself. Sadus seemed to encase herself and him in some sort of barrier as he privately spoke to her "Stay here Talia" he spoke to her and bounded off. Talia blinked trying to figure out what had just transpired...

    ~~present~~

    Before Sadus could strike Talia had indeed moved and placed herself before the entities, trying to shield them from the onslaught. "No! please stop!!" she pleaded. The rise in her voice something that didn't' occur very often, "It is as they said...this is my choice. I serve them and they serve my clan, do not take them away" she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and yet still a sort of fear and uncertainty. It was hard to decipher if these were her true feelings and words or if perhaps one of the entities might be trying to control or influence her actions. The four entities remained behind her in the same manner simply staring down Sadus and the situation.
     
  13. Ganz crossed his arms over his chest, watching the two fight silently. He couldn't tell what they were doing in detail but he could see a struggle in the energy that transpired between them. If he had a tail it would be flicking in anticipation, he wondered if he'd be able to get his claws into the Spiritoids that may be ripped away. He watched the flow of energy with his smoldering eyes. If he focused he could hazily witness the scene transpiring between them, but he couldn't hear anything and see very little. But he was able to infer the presence of four Spiritoids within the girl. He felt there was much power in the man, a G.R.A.V.E. Ganz chuckled quietly, being reminded of his past. He leaned himself against a tree, it hasn't been very long at all since he first started watching them. Ganz continued watching and waiting.
     
  14. Reintegration

    And just like that, Sadus froze, as if suddenly he was a three dimensional still image. Yet he spoke.

    "Choice...choice...that's a funny word amongst your kind, spiritoids. I've seen others speak of their own choice when your tendrils were running up their backs, turning them into little more than puppets. I wonder whose choice it really was in those cases."

    He lowered his scythes and looked back at her. The holes in the skull-like mask seemed to glow lightly.

    "But you know what? I can understand Talia and perhaps see why she'd need you; never hurts to be prepared in a world like this. It'd be hypocritical if I robbed you of perhaps the only thing that kept you alive out here so long."

    The hands, still gripped tightly on their weapons, stretched out to his sides. It was as if suddenly invisible ropes were holding him back, yet he pulled against them. They rose as he methodically and carefully seemed to drag something out of the white bridge. At first it seemed like a bump was forming gradually, but then it started to jerk to the left and right, as if it was a bag covering some beast attempting to free itself. The bump split open slowly, and like a flock of birds emerging from a tree, a small group of tabula rasas emerged.

    To many, these were useless spiritoids of a very base and primitive sort, lacking any really noticeable powers or intimidating charactestics. Sadus knew otherwise; these spiritoids could in some cases engulf and absorb even gigantic sized spiritoids. When linked to an owner, they could be used to engulf and then modify the nature of another spiritoid, make it easier to absorb and adapt to one's body, or even split other entities apart, alongside various other things.

    The glowing glass-like spheres seemed to be trailing long and graceful tendrils behind them, almost looking like large and thick strands of hair. They shimmered and fluctuated like a strummed guitar string while the nearly perfect spherical bodies they were attached to gracefully moved weightlessly through the air, glowing like small stars. They were roughly the size of a grown man's upper torso.

    Movement wise, their direction seemed tied to the motions of the G.R.A.V.E.'s fingers. His scythes simply floated next to him, as if there was no more gravity. Like the hands of a conductor, they seemed to be arranging them above Talia, himself, and the possessors, and they swam in a circle, like sharks.

    He looked right at Talia and then at the possessors.

    "You know what these do, don't you?"

    There was a hint of something sinister in his voice, yet there was no time to contemplate. With a sudden movement of his arms, he now pointed with both hands at the spiritoids. A few of the tabula rasa suddenly shot towards them, like diving birds. They were soon obscured by thrashing tendrils and flashing lights.

    Amidst the madness of the jellyfish like creatures, he turned to Talia and raised his left arm. The bubble she was in suddenly began to glow and four of the tabula rasas descended to it, wrapping it in their tendrils, then pressing their bodies to it. They seemed to be fusing into it, their tentacles creating elaborate black line patterns over the whiteness that their bodies had dissolved into.

    Sadus spoke again.

    "I'm not hurting anyone, Talia, I'm just...reconfiguring your soul, to prevent the decomposition of yourself and you could say to improve your efficiency. Stay calm."

    Outside their bodies, a few large white shapes, the tabula rasas, now containing Talia's spiritoids, shot out of her body, forming a rough circle around her. Her body seemed to glow a sort of ethreal light, jumping between black and white, piercing through the gaze of others, as if she was being lit up from within. The circle began to turn slowly, and then quickly, strange beams of energy linking all the spiritoid-tabula-rasas together, binding them as one, with a central focal point.

    That point was like one large angular shape, bearing many sides, points and edges. Within it, was Talia's soul and firing into it were the energies of her entities. Suddenly, the spheres dissappeared, seemingly having drained themselves into the central shape, which soon shot back into her, distorting the fabric of reality around her.

    Sadus let go and picked up the woman, deciding that she was probably rather exhausted and that all of that spiritual activity had likely attracted attention from whatever was lurking out there. He walked quickly, his great strength meaning the woman was rather light in his arms, going off towards the town.
     
  15. The entities stood quietly and watched as Sadus spoke to Talia, when the tabula rasas appeared, the entities moved to attack, but it was too late. Talia had no idea what was really going on. Suddenly there was simply a bright flash of light and for a moment she cried out as she felt as if she were being pulled in all directions. It wasn't really pain she was feeling, but it wasn't comfortable. She felt distant and detached from everything before suddenly it all came back together hitting her as if a brick wall were thrown at her.

    Breathing heavily reality seemed to tear and then slowly weave its way back together. It was hard to explain really what was going on and what she was seeing or feeling. Gasping for air she remained standing only for a moment before the force of the event simply drained almost everything out of her and she felt herself falling. Though this all happened quickly it felt as if everything were in slow motion to her. Soon she felt Sadus' arms beneath her as he took her into his arms and began to talk quickly. She looked up at him with a dazed glance before simply falling into unconsciousness. However, unlike most times when she fell unconscious her mind was calm and left blank. No intrusion of the entities or fight to take control over her vessel. An almost content sigh seemed to escape her lips.

    This new freedom of sorts was a good thing for Talia, whom slowly was beginning to almost break apart from the stress the entities were putting upon her. Outwardly she even appeared a bit more 'lively'. The ashen color of her skin was taking on more of a pale peach color, and she had a slight tint to her cheeks and lips now. Even her dark hair seemed a bit more vibrant than usual as if new life had been placed within her. In her mind the tugging of the entities was almost nonexistent. They hadn't been banished or destroyed, as she still faintly sensed them, but they seemed contained for the time being. Whenever she awoke, she would awaken as herself for once.
     
  16. …As the bodies floated past, The wanderer made his way on towards whatever hell awaited..

    His brain felt like it was being strangled. Like two massive fists were clenching down on it with all their might. The Wanderer could almost feel something dripping down the side of his face, but surely it was in his mind? This paranoid fantasy was nothing more that a twisted delusion brought on by the sight of so much death in such a short amount of time. But that thought, in itself, brought more fantasy paranoia. Whatever 'life' this was, The wanderer felt no time. He felt no pain. And he certainly felt no remorse for the dead. As his mind wrenched and twisted, and debated with itself, he walked on.

    Again feeling the drip on his face, The Wanderer touched the spot with his finger. Against the burnt out glow from the sky he saw a black wetness where he had touched. As he followed the wetness up he felt that it was coming from his ear. His face contorted into an awful grimace. Now his mind felt like it was in a vice; Being tightened very slowly. Slowly, but steadily. He wiped at his ear with the back of his hand, but at this point the black substance was coming out in a steady flow. Whatever it was was consistent with the pressing pain in his head. Although the pain was great, with each steady throb he felt as if he had a better grasp on reality …and for that matter himself.

    The sky faded into a grayish blue, dusk twilight. Similar to something you might see after a chemical fire in the fading sunlight. Except, as far as the Wanderer could tell, there was no real sun here. It was the most dismal outcast grey any living human would ever want to see. If there was a brightness shining, it was definitely dead to his eyes.

    Suddenly, like a burst of lightening in his head, the Wanderers' hands shot to his face. Something felt like it was trying to break through his face. Both his ears were now spewing the blackish ooze. His eyes shot open, filled with terror and pain, they leaked too. However there was no balkiness in his tears, they were real. A true sign that there was something left in him, an emotion, a hope? All he knew was that is was coming from somewhere, there was something creating it near by.

    The wanderer, unable to take the pain a second longer, ran at full speed towards the sensation. He was briefly aware of the pain exploding into his eyes when everything went black.

    When the world came rushing back to him, he was aware of others in the area, and something extraordinary had happened. The pain was gone. He approached what he thought to be two figures, although he thought he spotted a third. His vision was still hazy, like looking though a foggy window, but he could definitely make out a hooded figure, and a female.

    Unable to speak, he simply looked to the others. Searching, without words, for answers.
     
  17. Out of the Frying Pan...

    Somewhat abruptly, he changed his hold on the woman, from both arms to one. The other was partially raised, not quite hostile, but not really a greeting either. He looked right back at the strange figure, who had simply ran up to them and stopped. He seemed wild and mutated, human but not as much as he could be. He'd seen many before of varying intellectual capabilities, some more possessed and derranged than others, while some were eerily knowledgeable of the othyrworld and its effects on the physical world.

    If one charged at you, it was probably little more than a wild animal in human form, figuratively, yet it simply stopped. Sadus did so as well and looked at right back into its eyes, seemingly devoid of life, like portals into a small realm, but one he was not in the mood to visit anytime soon. He'd experienced enough of that already. Yet it wasn't some mindless maniac being pushed by the demons, literal and figurative, of his twisted mind. It seemed smarter than that. That could either be very good or very bad.

    His free arm tensed and raised as if he was trying to signal him to stop, he spoke, loud, clear, and neutral in tone.

    "We're just passing by; don't want any trouble."
     
  18. Ganz didn't move from his position at the edge of the trees, thinking. G.R.A.V.E.s have a lot of spiritoid power, he could probably pull them from his body, but that would be rude. He rubbed his forehead, one of his small headaches returned, but it didn't stick around for long. He looked back up, eyes gazing into the distance, seeing the two figures moving away, clearly. But what's this? A third. Ganz focused on this one, he looked in bad shape. He could see some source of energy in this guy. Looks like this guy had some deep trouble, like, soul deep even. Ideas and thoughts, possibilities, hypotheses, maybe a solution, whirred through his brain. From afar he analyzed the dudes body with just his super red eyes. Ganz picked at his chin with his black left arm.
     
  19. The wanderer, devoid of though for the moment, simply stared into the eye's of this person…this G.R.A.V.E. GRAVE, how did he know this word as a reference to this person? Images of death and black things circled in his mind like a swarm of locust. For the moment the god awful pain in his head had ceased. The faces of death he had encountered under the dark overpass were forgotten and the graveyard seemed worlds away. He tried to formulate a sentence, communication, but the only thing he could manage for the time being was.

    "We're just passing by; don't want any trouble."

    " I Feel the suffering of the dead, trouble is following me with every step I take, I need help…I need an answer ." He stepped back and raised his rotted, boney right arm, as if that would put his new aquantence at ease. Its funny how the mind of a truly deranged man can work.

    The wanderer stepped back and for the first time noticed a women with the G.R.A.V.E, he cast a look at her before returning his dark gaze back to the man.

    "I am Lost, and I do not wish to return the way I came."

    Another man, The wanderer noticed, was standing near the edge of the trees. Were these people together? Were they evil like the forces that filled his own body? The Wanderer knew he needed help, he needed answers.
     
  20. ...and into the open

    Sadus didn't make any motion, his body tense after the somewhat taxing confrontation with Talia. His arm was still bleeding noticeably and his clothing was torn around that arm. He listened closely; as derranged as this man seemed, he also did not come off as a lier or as dishonest. There was a sort of awkwardly expressed genuine-ness to his way of talking. Just by looking at him he could tell he had the facts to back up his claims.

    Sadus lowered his arm, his protection against him and spoke, somewhat more calmly now.

    "There's a town up ahead, it should have some sort of spiritual form maintenance facilities for us. It's a short distance from here. You can accompany us if you'd like."

    A brief pause, and Sadus looked over his shoulder, right into the eyes of the only other conscious individual.

    "I assume you'd like to follow as well...then come along, I'd like to get out of here quickly. You saw what just happened; they'll be coming soon."

    With that, he continued marching towards the settlement.