The Gates Of Maron

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by shakenSilences, Aug 16, 2014.

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  1. The walls of the most dangerous prison have been breached and now dangerous demons run amok in Charris, a world of magic users, demons and swordsmen. This prison had been sealed for the past one-thousand and three-hundred years but those locked inside were put there for the mere concept of them being demons. There are Shylian's, the common people that are in deep chaos and fear caused by the outbreak and there are the Veroth's that are supposed to be demonic creatures. And now that this catastrophe has occurred, demons like vampires and lycanthrope, sirens and cyclops, golems and witches, Fenrir and so many more roam this land. The only thing standing in their way of escaping successfully is the hunters that devote their life to catching them.

    But now that there are more around than ever, the hunters must be careful and do whatever it takes to return the demons to the prison. They must capture all of the escapees and return them to where they belong. And hopefully the Gates of Maron won't be open for long.

    You can be a Veroth, a hunter or a plain old Shylian.

    Veroth: Probably not going to be too happy about being in the prison and will not be too kind to the people outside of the prison, especially the hunters since they are the ones who put them there.

    Hunter: If you are a hunter you might be a very strong capable person that has been doing this sort of thing since you were a child but some other's might be very inexperienced and were hired on short notice due to the outbreak.

    Shylian: These people are in fear and chaos so they will be doing whatever they can to take away the stress whether that be drinking or doing self training, or just hiding in your home and hoping for the best.

    You are not required to follow everything said in the three descriptions they were just guides in case you wanted help. Also, try not to make an over abundance of one type of thing, its good to at least have more than one hunter or more than one veroth. Shylians are there just in case they fit your fancy. I have never started a roleplay on here before so I hope I didn't do anything wrong.

    I am going to start us out in a town. So without further ado, let us begin!​
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  2. The young looking girl, Mili, was running aimlessly through the forest, no idea of where she was. She had found what seemed to be a living place for a shylian a few miles back and had broken inside to steal better clothes than what she previously wore. She had on a plain looking green dress and a brown cloak so she could hide her face. She looked up and saw a series of buildings causing her to smile, god was she staving, eating prison food for the past three hundred and seventy six years made her excited to finally eat real food. But the only problem was she didn't have money. Sighing she rushed into the town and looked around, seeing all the people going about their lives, what they were doing while she was caged and will continue to do now that she was free. They were heartless people for trapping her there for so long, and she hated every one of them.
  3. Eating? Who had time for something as trivial as eating when freedom had practically been thrust into their hands? Freedom. No more of that dark space, reeking of those who had long since lost the makeshift concept of hope. But hope for what? Salvation - no rest for the wicked. And that was why he never slept, why relief never claimed him in it's warm arms until right then and there. When the wall broke, and Hell crawled onto Earth. He'd been in there for as long as he could remember. Life before confinement was gone. Left to the wind, and he didn't fucking care.

    Tearing through the skies, body turned into nothing but a spectral, dark entity that just barely contained the shape of a humane body. One distinguishable feature, and it was the large collar that callused and chapped his neck. Suffocating, but he wore it like a momento. Every painful surge it brought him, was another reminder. Reminder of the freedom he had been given...Something akin to happiness surged through his body. Spreading through his veins, like blood. Pumping and warm, almost pleasant. And it was at that moment, that nothing mattered. Nothing mattered but the freedom he had been denied for foolish reasons. For the fear that Shylians felt. The intimidation because they were damn inferior.

    But too pleased to hate them. Hate them with every fiber of his being before he was out. They were all out, and as he gave a cackle that sounded damn near wicked, twirling in the air, either arm extended at his sides, a spectral - smoke like tail surging behind him as he moved through the sky. Through whatever cloud he could, it's been too long. Freedom, dearest freedom. It has been far too long - and he would utilize it to the last breath he took. He couldn't remember his name, life at the prison had fucking taken it from him. But he did remember one thing.

    He remembered what being free felt like. And this was it.
    Pain. Pain felt like a scorch of indescribable heat against his skin, inside of him - even. Like the fires of Hell a lit in his stomach, and ate at him from within. Honestly, He'd been foolish. Glee like that of a child's, making him careless. Making him forget the true ways of the world. A principle that all of them had to come to terms with at least once. 'If Freedom is given, another will yearn to take it.'

    Shooting through the air, like a bullet. But a bullet never went haywire, a bullet was always straight. And his spectral form, a pained, despair ridden expression on his face. Trickled with rage, it began to decline. Slowly moving lower, and lower as he tried only to rise higher. They were onto him - caught on his trail, the trail he'd left like a fool. His side still burned, his neck as well. If he could cough out the blood, he would. But this body held no physical form - only the impression of one. Lower, and lower...

    Until he goes so low he crashes into the ground. Physical form manifesting, but it would only prove to disable him. He was full once again - just at the precise moment to knock into the thick shoot of a tree. Tall, almost beautiful. But the impact he made with it caused it to creak and shake, and the air left his lungs. Winded -- had something broken?

    He felt nauseous.

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  4. Seeing the several Shylians outside made her feel sick, and she refused to look at them anymore as she slowly backed away shaking her head. These are the people that took everything from you, these are the people that trapped you within a dark room with the intention of never letting her escape. The one thing that had kept her living in that hell hole was the idea that one day she would escape and unleash the same horrors they unleashed upon her.

    Mili backed away from where she stood and shook her head as she mumbled softly under her breath, "And you called us the demons merely because we were better than all of you?" growling she spun around and faced the forest she emerged from to find something flying toward's the ground. Or was it falling? Whatever it was though, it most certainly was nothing to fear. The things of this world should fear her, not because of what she was, but because it was time for them to face the consequences of what they did to her... of what they did to all of them.

    Eventually whatever it was crashed to the ground and she stared at him with wide eyes, cocking her head at them. She spun around to see if any of the Shylian's in the town had seen what just happened but nobody reacted. Giving a soft whimper when she returned her gaze to him she shook her head, "What the hell am I supposed to do with him? Was he trying to do that?" She had never had to deal with this sort of thing. Maybe she could just leave him there and nature would take care of it. "No Mili, don't be stupid." She groaned and continued to stare at him before looking back and forth from him and the people of the town.
  5. [ Wope, Visual ref ]

    Every breath he took was labored, and the air he breathed was thick and horrid - like smoke. And the metal of his collar felt like it was smoldering him. But it was all because of the bloodied spot that the hunter had shot at it, in all reality? It was a miracle he wasn't dead. So close to grasping what freedom felt like, and holding onto it, and he hadn't even been able to maintain that much. It was humiliating - but what was more humiliating? Cringed and broken looking, trying to lift his body off of the ground, with little success. The bleeding was starting to clot, but that didn't mean he didn't lose a lot of it.

    He hacked up a mouthful of it. Heaving like a suffocating animal - pathetic - While he kept one hand pressed to his side, the deeper of the two wounds. A gash from God knew what those hunters had sliced away at him with. "B--astards," His voice a gruff croak, like a throaty gasp. His hand, bloodied and all - clawed at the tree. An almost painful action - but his nails dug into it none the less. Lengthening to meet the task. A deep, hot breath, followed by a strained sounding groan. Something much more similar to a growl. "Come on-" He could taste fresh blood in his mouth once more, and another hindered sound left him. Deep - a vein pulsed in his neck. With the effort he used, ignoring the pain, to pull himself up, with the support of the tree. "Come-" He edges them deeper, with a surge of anger. Angry about everything. Angry and hostile and he'd be damned if he didn't get them back for this. Get everyone back - kill, no , slaughter everyone who had ever fucking wronged him in the past in the present and anyone who would do it in the fucking future and -

    "On!" That was much louder. He seemed completely unaware of Mili's presence. And with his situation - could you blame him? That final, partial roar was enough to push his entire body. Past the pain and towards advancement. He panted, deep and ghastly, eyes blinking in and out of consciousness, before his gaze snapped in Mili's direction. Pupils narrowed in a way that one could almost consider primitive.

    He looked ready to kill. And if looks could do the job? Mili would have been incarcerated.

    "What are ya' looking at?"
  6. Mili continued to stare at him helplessly when she saw him start to move and make those.... those noises. She saw his struggles and that town was starting to sound like a way better idea than heading in his direction. She shook her head at him before sighing and attempting to grab his attention though she knew deep down that it would be to no avail. "Hey, you there... Are you okay... Excuse me?" She groaned and licked her lips a bit, a nasty habit she had.

    Mili took a couple steps foreward and she finally heard him speak, standing up afterwards. She just stared at him wide eyed and frozen in place, watching him look around him until his gaze fell onto her and the way he looked at her was terrifying. No, he wouldn't harm her would he? I mean, he couldn't in that condition but the anger and hatred she heard in his voice when he spoke to her begged to differ

    Taking a huff she shook a bit as she approached him, answering him as she did
    "I'm looking at you, its kind of hard not to when you see them fall from the sky bleeding like you are." She stopped walking when she was about seven feet away from him and gulped a bit, proud of herself for not shaking too much. She wasn't weak, but when something like this happens, its hard not to at least be worried about it. "Please don't look at me like that though, it's not like I want to hurt you. If I did, I would have already with how easy of a target you are. But you need to get out of the way of the town, i doubt that it's hunter free and when you look like that...." She trailed off and gave him a glare, trying to ignore the way he stared at her, and hoping he was too injured to cause her any real harm.

    She was still wearing her hood so her lips were the only thing that peaked out from underneath but she looked short, extremely short and only stood at 5'2". She had scarlet curls of hair draping down her chest as they were not concealed by the hood.
  7. A hooded woman, that he only snarled at. A rabid dog wearing a person's shell. And when she steps closer, he growls. Low and primal, but he did nothing to step back. Or even inch away from her. Standing his ground solidly, bearing his fangs. An impressive length - he looked ready to bite. A Shylian - a fucking Shylian, he would have killed her right where she stood (or so he thought.) If he'd been completely convinced of that. But, he wasn't. No, he stood here for the sole purpose of finding out. A friend, or a foe? An obstacle, or someone who would bring him higher? ... A tiny advantage at that, the girl was tiny.

    "I'll kill any hunter I see, ya' want to join the body count, lady?" Even if he couldn't shift, or fly - he'd never consider himself a force that could be easily ignored. He would refuse to be ignored, even. Or disregarded by a girl so small, and from what he could gather - timid. "..." But she was right, as much as it niffed him to even think of admitting it. He shot his head to the side, facing away from her. Only to spit out another bat of blood. A scornful 'Tch!' before he swallowed something, saliva no doubt. To wet his immensely dry throat. He couldn't even see her face... "What are you tellin' me for, then?" She could have been anybody, underneath that hood. And he begun to growl once more. Looking about the forest, and out towards what would soon lead into the small town. Chuck full of Shylians , hunters...He should just set it all to flames. Let them taste the only mercy he'd ever give to them. Giving them a death in flames, rather then at his bloodied hands.

    "Let 'em come. I'll kill them. I'll kill 'em all, bastards. Every one of them." He regarded nothing to her glare - chest rising and falling in sync with every hoarse breath he managed. An easy target? The hand that still kept tight to his side. And hopefully the bleeding had finally stopped. And even if it didn't - he attempts a step forward. Towards her, but his goal was inevitably the town. He saw nothing but red, his rage - but never once catching sight of reason. "Get out of my way, unless you want to be a part of the bonfire."
  8. She examined his reactions carefully, the collar around his neck making her raise an eyebrow before shaking her head at the blood that spilled from his lips. "I'm afraid that joining the 'body count' as you so boldly put it, is far from my plans. And even falling under the assumption that I am a hunter is just....ugh." She gave a soft smirk though, her lips were gray and metallic looking and her skin, if you looked closely was a pearly white. She continued to carefully watch all of his reactions and movements.

    He growled and seemed uncaring of his injuries and condition so she chuckled softly, listening to his breathing as she licked her lips again. But he began to speak again and his intentions made her smile widely.
    "Move out of the way because you wish to burn the town....?" With that she spun around to face the buildings and cackled deeply before sighing and turning back around. "And how do you plan to do that? Because as long as they can see me as they catch fire, as long as I can see them as they realize what they brought upon themselves because of what they did to me."

    She sighed a bit and frowned a bit at her reaction, the ground, closing her eyes. God Mili, way to make an impression, towards something that is contemplating killing you.
  9. (I tried finding a picture that would describe how she looks but I couldn't find anything sorry. I'll try and draw something. ;D)
  10. [ That's fine! Your written description is more then enough! ]

    The woman was growing bolder by the moment, and he wasn't sure why. Did she know something that he didn't? What an infuriating thought. What was she? A maniac shylian, caught in the superiority of the Veroth race? Trying to act the part of something they could never even hope to be? Or a shamelessly sly Hunter, whose only goal was to coax his doom through convincing trickery? Ha. No hunter could be that stupid. ... What surprised him most was that he actually listened to her banter. Heavy, rough breaths were the only things that broke his silence. In the darkness of the forest, one would only assume a young woman spoke - to none other then a savage beast.

    "You make it sound like I can't n' won't..." If anything, it only broadened his need to see flames engulf them all. Destroy their happiness, and take their freedom along with their lives. Burning flesh, burning bone. Leave nothing but dust and ash and fucking regret. It was an intoxicating image, so appeasing - but not entirely. Because it was only a fraction of the Shylian race. Only a fraction...

    He'd been moving, albeit unsteadily. Mind zoning in and out, from shaky and light to dark and heavy. That was his consciousness - 'Goddamnit --' and he didn't want it to leave him just yet. Not when they all roamed around, without a care in the world. The world they'd tried to rule and contaminate. Yes, the Shylians and the hunters alike were nothing but a plague upon this world. The worst kind.

    When he stops by her, looming before her at an impressive five foot eight. (5'8) Compared to her height at least. He might have looked frightening, maybe. But that wasn't any of his concern, any of what he wanted. Putting aside his most genuine and true of desires, he wanted to know...

    "And just what are you?" A free hand slowly reaches for her hood, from behind. While his eyes, red and dark - stare down at her. Impending, gaze just as heavy as their color.
  11. Mili smirked wider as her metalic lips pursed slightly in response to his sudden contact on her cheek. She reached up and placed her hand over his, and eased it away, "For now, all you need to know is that I am a Veroth like you and once I know I can trust you, I will show you my face." Licking her lips a bit she leaned onto her tip toes and smiled up at him before turning to face the other way where she smiled psychotically at the village folk, thinking about the faces they would make in fear and terror.

    A soft tattoo of slithering black tendrils that curled around her neck and jaw line. Though if you paid close attention to them, you could almost recognize that they were moving against her white, porcelain skin. "You darling, need help and since I am feeling generous today, I will help you. I want to see those people die as much as you do but if you don't accept my help I can settle for just watching you die until I figure out my own plans for destroying the village." The woman's attitude quickly changed from how she was when she first approached him but she had no real intentions of letting this man die just yet.

    Mili frowned a bit then pulled her hood further over her face before speaking again, "trust me, nobody wants to see my face, I promise you that." At that she allowed her body to revert to its original form, her teeth pointed and jagged while her metallic gray lips went black. Her pearly white skin stayed the same but the black tendrils moved about freely, no longer giving the illusion that they were still. a cracking was heard coming from her spine as she grunted a bit from the pain of her wings protruding from her back. When they were fully emerged the back of her cloak tented around them. Lastly she grew about 5 inches taller but her body was unnaturally thinner. "I am honestly nothing to look at hun..."

    Mili turned away from him and let her body shrink back to its normal size. Her wings retreating back into her as everything else retreated to the way it was before. She turned back around to face him and held her hand out encouragingly, her eyes still stinging with hatred while mili sucked her lips in. She would do whatever it took to destroy the shylians and the hunters. There was one thing though, one thing she hated more than either of those people. The Veroth who swore lives of loyalty to the Shylians to resist going to the prison. They degraded themselves to the level of nothing more than a dog used to sniff out its own kind and she hated them for their betrayal. Especially since the person she trusted more than anything, was the person who ultimately turned her into the hunters, sending her to that prison... to that living hell.
    #11 shakenSilences, Aug 18, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 20, 2014
  12. (I made some very important additions to the last reply, please either reread the reply or read the new additions if you haven't done either thing already.)
  13. [ Alright! Also I -- Don't believe my character ever touched her cheek? Sorry if anything I wrote might have seemed that way! That was a mistake on my part! ]

    A Veroth...Could he put his faith into her? Of course not - he barely trusted any of the Veroth that escaped with him. As they ran towards their freedom, like a pack of animals who had lost all direction. And acted only of their truest impulses. She seemed composed, sophisticated - there was something about her composure that almost unsettled him...If it didn't enrage him so. She may trust him, but he had no reason to trust her.

    And then he realized it wasn't composure. It was a calmer form of madness.

    Her tattoo acted like a sly familiar, slithering along her pale body, ready to strike, as deadly as a viper. But he pays no mind to it, far too immersed in glaring at the girl. Who became more and more as the minutes passed. Trust could descend no deeper then his own distrust of her. Realization strikes him with the ungodly crack and contortion of her body, and her bones. Adjusting her appearance, for whatever reason - with whatever ability - he only knew one thing, it was monstrous.

    He takes a step back, without even knowing it. A snake, she might as well have been a fucking snake. Who could sink her teeth into him at any moment. Snatch his life away, just as he'd truly grasped it once more. Falling at the hand of another Veroth? The thought almost made his stomach contract, just as much as the thought of being ended by a Hunter did.

    But there was something about her eyes. Something familiar in them, that within a moment's glance, he couldn't distinguish.

    Her look, there was no hope. Nothing but that raw, fiery hatred that looked just about tangible in her eyes. It was nearly spine chilling - how much he found himself...agreeing with them, even if no verbal point was made. He'd recognized it, but he hadn't been sure from where. And now? He fully recalls it as his own animosity. Just as damned vibrant, and deep. Festering - a need to see them bleed. An even greater need to make them bleed and for some reason, the cold of the night's breeze only made his skin even hotter.


    This one understanding, is what compelled him to take the hand she offered to him. Knowing nothing of the girl, or of her past. But he just knew that she wanted the exact same thing. "...Alright." Their destruction, and would do anything to get it...And, holding her smaller hand in his own, tightly, giving her a sideway glance, without any regard toward his physical wounds hindrance, a thought silently speaks in his head.

    He likes that.

    "So just what do you have in mind for this, lady?..."
  14. The day the walls of the prison broke down, all hell broke loose. Every creature rushing out with empty thoughts devoid of rationalization. Mili though, had waited in the back of her cell until everyone else had left. From there she calmly left the building. While the others just wanted out, she was fine with just waiting until the rest had made their way. Knowing that after keeping everyone in this hell hole, the hell part was what escaped. She was never one for crowds because crowds didn't much like her.

    When he took a step back from her she gave a sly smile, a knowing smile. No one had ever looked at her true form with thoughts of kindness, she was a hideous creature worse than either a witch or a bloodsucker alone. For she was a combination between the two, and her porcelain skin practically glowed with rage. Mili stayed silent though as she watched him awaiting his decision of whether to accept her help or deny it. Either was fine with her, because both would have the same conclusion. The people In that town, would be dead, whether by her hands or by his, the deed would get done. Once returned to his original form though she realized. The man had caught a glimpse of her eyes.

    Soon enough though she watched as his expression eased. The quick glance at her eyes fueling him further with his own hatred.
    Mili's lips curled into a smirk as she recognized this. Then he placed his hand into hers and she gave it a gentle squeeze. Silent as she stared into his eyes, giving him full view of her own. Cloaked in hatred were her two iris' glimmering with blue, the silent pact they made spoke louder than the most shrill scream.

    "I have a couple things in mind... We could burn them like you said. Or we could kill one person every night until theyres one left and they die the most painfully of all....but I think, we should drown them."
    She gave a subtle smirk pulling her hood down to cover her face again as she spoke. Her voice still soft and that of one like a child. Mili was never one for being chaotic in her ways. When she was in the prison she would meditate. Not through herself against the walls or iron bars. She just sat there in silent, composed insanity.

    This was a dark alliance formed through pure hatred, neither completely trusting if the other. Giving a light chuckle she smiled again,
    "And please. Call me Mili."
  15. A dark alliance it was. Only tied by their shared feelings towards the same, troublesome , matter at hand. A problem that both saw needed to be dealt with. Shylians...Blood boiling temper aside, a need to act now and think later be damned - he listened to her. Staring off into the distance, where life warmed the area, like a lantern in a sea of darkness. Warm, fuzzy - pleasant, so pleasant - but he found it disgusting. Because they didn't deserve it.

    "I don't care how we do...Mili. I just want it done. No matter what - I'll make sure it gets done."

    Through rain or through hail, through flames and through hell - he would see to it that it happened. Even if this was only a minor, maybe even petty, fraction of their entire race. It was a fraction none the less. A blow to their humanity that they prided themselves in, God only knew why, and a dip into his own satisfaction. His grip tightens on her hand, was it anticipation? Or a minuscule slice of worry that managed to wedge itself into his throat? Doubt? The thoughts of turning back now while he - never.

    The thought itself made the taste on his tongue turn sour. Another cool breeze that felt like a whisper of fire against him, and he begins to move closer towards the town, and towards it's townspeople. Hands still touching, and bound. It was almost as if he'd forgotten he was holding her hand. He was impulsive - but not quite as foolish as impulse would persuade. Staying within the shadows, and once he got close enough - Which was never too close, he'd stop. Stop right in his tracks, just short of where he could practically smell their carefree lifestyle. A hint of their unease, a taste of their small fear for the beast that had unleashed themselves once more. And might just come around, and bite back.

    In their necks, hopefully.

    He was almost completely silently. Almost. Aside from a few bats of rugged breathing, that was swallowed down dryly, his stealth proved admirable. Not even a crunch of the forest floor's leaves...His hand never left Mili's. Perhaps because of that one shred of distrust he held for her - or maybe he'd simply forgotten.

  16. Mili smirked at the electricity igniting deep fires between the two of them. She turned to the people in the village hating their warmth and happiness but when she looked close enough, that was most certainly not what she saw. She saw fear in every glance they took, constantly changing directions of where they faced as if they were looking for something. Hesitation in every interaction, growing uncomfortable with each other on the off chance that, among them was a Veroth. Worry in every action they made so as not to set off a chain reaction ending in their death. This... This is what they deserved. The constant everlasting fear that what they did would come back to bite them. Something she could easily provide.

    She had always tried to be creative with how she killed, haunting towns and villages with her hideousness. None of them would ever see her as this dark creature. Which is why if she and this collared man got caught she would merely act as if she was his hostage. She would eventually work to saving him back but first... First she would gain the townspeople's trust, and learn of who the hunters were before attacking.she planed to flood the river over and in turn wash away all the villagers. Luckily though, he was silent and careful, stealth obvious in his nature.

    He was going to be a fun ally.

    Mili knew all too well that he would do anything and everything to see that these plans were completed. She knew because the same fire of hatred and dark intention lurked within her. She felt his grip tightened and she curiously watched him as she did. Her body completely at ease be side him. Maybe, it was the lack of trust between them, the darkness that bonded him, the fear that pairing together was a mistake. But whatever the reason was, she liked it. The was he drew closer to tho buildings like a moth to light when the world was shrouded in darkness.

    Once they were in the shadows she spoke in just hardly a whisper, a soft chant that could just barely be heard let alone understood. "Jaqure mestelli derom. Seter corron botolles. Catede molteer ciendence." Soon one of the black tendrils slithered from her hand and dropped to the ground in the form of a snake. It moved with high grace as it made way into the -for the time being- peaceful town. She smirked looking back to the man and smirked.
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