N
Nightstealer
Guest
Original poster
'Come on, just go in already.'
'No.. I don't want to.' Your voice quivers as the unmistakable hint of fear is brought to your eyes. She rolls her eyes in response and shoves you into the bathroom, switching off the light and closing the door. Frantically you twist the handle but she must be holding it from the outside. 'Let me out!' You cry, banging on the door and you hear her muffled laughter through the door.
'Don't be such a baby! Just say it and we'll let you out.' You sigh, reluctantly admitting defeat. Fine, if it will get them to let you out, you'll do it. You walk to the mirror, rest your hands on the porcelain basin and take a deep breath.
'Bloody Mary...'
The mirror warps as you say her name and a shadow flits behind you. You spin around, eyes darting around as you grow accustomed to the gloom. There's nothing there and you force yourself to still your beating heart. Its just the shadows from outside the window or something. Another deep breath to help cement your courage.
'Bloody Mary...' No, something definitely moved that time. You spin around and let you gaze flit around the room. 'Guys, let me out please...' They don't answer. They probably left. You try the handle but the door still wont budge. They must've locked it from the outside. Your palms start to sweat and your throat feels dry. If you say it, they'll unlock it. They'll let you out. This is so wrong. You shouldn't be playing at this. Bad things happen to girls that play at games like this. What if you just say you did it? You hear a click outside and freeze. Is something coming in?
You wait a minute and nothing happens, so you tenaciously turn the handle. The door swings open, revealing the empty hallway. 'Guys? This isn't funny.' Where are they? Was this their plan all along? With your heart in your throat you begin to look for them. You start on the upstairs floor, because that's where you are now. You search the bedrooms, with no sign of anyone.
Well fine, they want to play like that, you'll just go home. You're sick of them, always teasing you, mocking you, pushing you to do things you don't want to. As you walk into the living room to get your bag, you stop in your tracks. There's a metallic scent on the air. What is that? There's something else, a kind of sickening stench that makes you feel queasy. 'Guys?' Now the fear's back, and you walk into the sun room. You stop dead, eyes wide with horror at the sight before your eyes. All four of them are lying in various parts of the room, their insides torn out, bodies ripped open. Blood soaks the carpet, sprayed up on the walls and curtains. Their eyes are still open, gazing blindly at the ceiling. You can't stop the bile rising up your throat and you're sick on the carpet. Your legs collapse under you, and the last thing you remember before the police turn up is her dad coming home and calling them.
~
They were fifteen when it happened. But they weren't the first. There's something following you, something you can't explain. And it's killing people in your life. Not just strangers in the street, but people you know personally. They are all killed in different ways, none ever the same. But they're all connected, by you. You've been relocated hundreds of times, changed your name, your history, even your face, but they still find you. You don't know why they're after you, or what they have to gain from it, but you have stopped waiting for the police to come and ask questions. You're running.
Sleep is rare and far between. When you do sleep, you dream of a barren landscape, of a desolate world, the violet sky lit with flashes of scarlet flame every so often, the blackened ground cracked, and what buildings you can actually see are in a miserable state. You can hear horrible cries in the distance, like someone is being tortured. But something always wakes you before you can explore. You wake up sweating and your heart racing. Sometimes you'll hear a name when you wake, but you can never quite make it out.
Something weird has happened. You expect to wake up from the dream. But you don't. You just keep seeing the desolate plains and smell the horrid air. It smells like charred flesh, mixed with mildew. You stand up slowly, brushing grey powder off your clothes. You look to be standing in what was once a great field. From the dead plant heads on the ground, you'd guess sunflowers. Your steps make crunching sounds as you follow a worn path, the dirt now cracked and dry, and further down the path, the skeleton of a creature the likes of which you've never seen before lays near the edge. A shudder makes its way down your spine as you skirt passed it, continuing your wander until you reach the ruins of what was surely once a grand city. Now it is nothing but shambles. A cracking sensation under your foot makes you look down. You pick the two halves of wood up, brushing dust from its surface. In faded letters it reads 'Aramontis'. Huh? That's a weird name for a city. But then again this is a dream, so of course it's going to be weird.
You think you can see someone moving and you chase after them, winding through the rubble to finally grab a hold of their shirt. 'Hey, who are you?' The girl blinks back in surprise, looking mortified before yanking her tattered clothes from your grasp. 'I'm just like you.' What? What does she mean by that? You want to ask her, but she's taken off again and you've no choice but to follow her.
She takes you to a coal shaft, and jumps down it. You hesitate but follow after her, and find yourself in a basement. But you're not alone The girl is there, as are many others, male and female alike, grimy faced, gaunt, and terrified. Then you realise the truth. They really ARE all like you.
They have all had a series of misfortune following them, and somehow, all ended up here. From what they have told you, this land is ruled by a trio of violent beings, so powerful is their bloodlust that they scattered throughout various realms to sate it. They latch onto a soul and massacre those around that person, gaining power from the turmoil caused. When the time is right, they send the soul to a sort of limbo, that is, the world you are in now.
'So you are all like me?' You ask, and they nod. 'Well then. We need a plan.'
Image by Rich35211
~
So, you liked the plot, but still don't quite understand what's going on? Well me either! I can tell you however that you're all in this other world. And yes, you are probably going to be one of the victims that the evil doers, who still have no names, have dragged to that hellish place. If you ask REALLY nicely, I may even let you be one of said evil doers. You could even be one of the few handfuls of residents that still live in that world. Those of you who have seen some of my rps before may come to recognise this world as none other than Insanistatia, a world I created that has been the basis of many of my rps in the past, and also of a WIP i have up here. This story is sort of parallel to my past rps. This is what would have happened if Dometris, the previous god of this realm, wasn't saved by a group of people he called his chosen ones. (more on that later). As the plot progresses you'll learn more about the world and its history. You will encounter all sorts of creatures, do not be limited by the mundane. This is a world controlled by insanity itself. It could be contagious.
So, to the rules.
1. Don't be an ass. That includes no god-modding, no meta-gaming, no bunnying.
2. if you want to create characters from other realms, I'm up for it, but don't be cliché. And certainly no other gods in there okay?
3. This isn't greek mythology, so please don't put it in there. It's pure, random, and, I hope, Insane.
4. preferably more than one paragraph, at least five lines long
5. No reserving spots, I don't do spot reservation.
6. Have fun!
Alrighty, onto the Skeletons!
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Species: (only if you choose not to be from the earthly realm. Remember CREATIVITY!)
Personality:
Appearance:
My Character
Name: Aerin Eldaritch
Age: 193
Gender: Female
Species: Aerin is a part of a race known as the e'ljiohn (pronounced Ail-Yo-En). They are creatures of the ice and snow, used to temperatures well below freezing, and susceptible to too much heat. Their skin glimmers, as if their skin were made of millions of tiny ice particles, which could very well be the case. They live only in the coldest climates, never straying far from the snow and ice. They are small in size, the tallest recorded being 5'1''. The children are born from a blood crystal. That is, the parents combine a drop of their blood and leave the offering in the sacred cavern. The cold solidifies the blood and the ancient spirits perform a ritual. An embryo is created inside the crystal casing, and after the winter solstice, the new E'ljiohn join the community.
There are legends that suggest where the E'ljiohn first originated, but none can truly accurately pinpoint their origins. Some say that they were created by the gods of winter, molded by their hands alone and sent to be guardians of the mountains. Others say that they were created from the first ice age. There is even the myth that Jack Frost is in fact one of these creatures. What remains true is that very few have seen what they look like, or if they have, they've forgotten.
The E'ljiohn are peaceful creatures, but the young ones tend to play jokes on unsuspecting trespassers, leading an unwary traveller to a cavern and icing the front over, or setting traps for them. They like to throw their voices and mimic other creatures. They have an affinity with the ice and cold, and have a mind connection with many of the cold-inclined creatures, in particular the Skeg, a hound-like animal with the antlers of a moose.
Personality: Aerin is a creature of solitude. She finds solace in being alone, especially after her dismal, and rather gruesome past. She is quiet, timid, unlikely to initiate any kind of relationships with anyone. She enjoys the company of her trusty Skeg, Ezeral, the only one she hasn't lost to the beast that has been plaguing her life. She is terrified of most things, including shadows, heat, sudden noises, creatures she can hear but can't see. She'll often talk to herself to keep her nerves at bay, and can often be heard singing when talking isn't enough. She has a strong sense of right and wrong, and a kind heart.
Appearance:
'No.. I don't want to.' Your voice quivers as the unmistakable hint of fear is brought to your eyes. She rolls her eyes in response and shoves you into the bathroom, switching off the light and closing the door. Frantically you twist the handle but she must be holding it from the outside. 'Let me out!' You cry, banging on the door and you hear her muffled laughter through the door.
'Don't be such a baby! Just say it and we'll let you out.' You sigh, reluctantly admitting defeat. Fine, if it will get them to let you out, you'll do it. You walk to the mirror, rest your hands on the porcelain basin and take a deep breath.
'Bloody Mary...'
The mirror warps as you say her name and a shadow flits behind you. You spin around, eyes darting around as you grow accustomed to the gloom. There's nothing there and you force yourself to still your beating heart. Its just the shadows from outside the window or something. Another deep breath to help cement your courage.
'Bloody Mary...' No, something definitely moved that time. You spin around and let you gaze flit around the room. 'Guys, let me out please...' They don't answer. They probably left. You try the handle but the door still wont budge. They must've locked it from the outside. Your palms start to sweat and your throat feels dry. If you say it, they'll unlock it. They'll let you out. This is so wrong. You shouldn't be playing at this. Bad things happen to girls that play at games like this. What if you just say you did it? You hear a click outside and freeze. Is something coming in?
You wait a minute and nothing happens, so you tenaciously turn the handle. The door swings open, revealing the empty hallway. 'Guys? This isn't funny.' Where are they? Was this their plan all along? With your heart in your throat you begin to look for them. You start on the upstairs floor, because that's where you are now. You search the bedrooms, with no sign of anyone.
Well fine, they want to play like that, you'll just go home. You're sick of them, always teasing you, mocking you, pushing you to do things you don't want to. As you walk into the living room to get your bag, you stop in your tracks. There's a metallic scent on the air. What is that? There's something else, a kind of sickening stench that makes you feel queasy. 'Guys?' Now the fear's back, and you walk into the sun room. You stop dead, eyes wide with horror at the sight before your eyes. All four of them are lying in various parts of the room, their insides torn out, bodies ripped open. Blood soaks the carpet, sprayed up on the walls and curtains. Their eyes are still open, gazing blindly at the ceiling. You can't stop the bile rising up your throat and you're sick on the carpet. Your legs collapse under you, and the last thing you remember before the police turn up is her dad coming home and calling them.
~
They were fifteen when it happened. But they weren't the first. There's something following you, something you can't explain. And it's killing people in your life. Not just strangers in the street, but people you know personally. They are all killed in different ways, none ever the same. But they're all connected, by you. You've been relocated hundreds of times, changed your name, your history, even your face, but they still find you. You don't know why they're after you, or what they have to gain from it, but you have stopped waiting for the police to come and ask questions. You're running.
Sleep is rare and far between. When you do sleep, you dream of a barren landscape, of a desolate world, the violet sky lit with flashes of scarlet flame every so often, the blackened ground cracked, and what buildings you can actually see are in a miserable state. You can hear horrible cries in the distance, like someone is being tortured. But something always wakes you before you can explore. You wake up sweating and your heart racing. Sometimes you'll hear a name when you wake, but you can never quite make it out.
Something weird has happened. You expect to wake up from the dream. But you don't. You just keep seeing the desolate plains and smell the horrid air. It smells like charred flesh, mixed with mildew. You stand up slowly, brushing grey powder off your clothes. You look to be standing in what was once a great field. From the dead plant heads on the ground, you'd guess sunflowers. Your steps make crunching sounds as you follow a worn path, the dirt now cracked and dry, and further down the path, the skeleton of a creature the likes of which you've never seen before lays near the edge. A shudder makes its way down your spine as you skirt passed it, continuing your wander until you reach the ruins of what was surely once a grand city. Now it is nothing but shambles. A cracking sensation under your foot makes you look down. You pick the two halves of wood up, brushing dust from its surface. In faded letters it reads 'Aramontis'. Huh? That's a weird name for a city. But then again this is a dream, so of course it's going to be weird.
You think you can see someone moving and you chase after them, winding through the rubble to finally grab a hold of their shirt. 'Hey, who are you?' The girl blinks back in surprise, looking mortified before yanking her tattered clothes from your grasp. 'I'm just like you.' What? What does she mean by that? You want to ask her, but she's taken off again and you've no choice but to follow her.
She takes you to a coal shaft, and jumps down it. You hesitate but follow after her, and find yourself in a basement. But you're not alone The girl is there, as are many others, male and female alike, grimy faced, gaunt, and terrified. Then you realise the truth. They really ARE all like you.
They have all had a series of misfortune following them, and somehow, all ended up here. From what they have told you, this land is ruled by a trio of violent beings, so powerful is their bloodlust that they scattered throughout various realms to sate it. They latch onto a soul and massacre those around that person, gaining power from the turmoil caused. When the time is right, they send the soul to a sort of limbo, that is, the world you are in now.
'So you are all like me?' You ask, and they nod. 'Well then. We need a plan.'
Image by Rich35211
~
So, you liked the plot, but still don't quite understand what's going on? Well me either! I can tell you however that you're all in this other world. And yes, you are probably going to be one of the victims that the evil doers, who still have no names, have dragged to that hellish place. If you ask REALLY nicely, I may even let you be one of said evil doers. You could even be one of the few handfuls of residents that still live in that world. Those of you who have seen some of my rps before may come to recognise this world as none other than Insanistatia, a world I created that has been the basis of many of my rps in the past, and also of a WIP i have up here. This story is sort of parallel to my past rps. This is what would have happened if Dometris, the previous god of this realm, wasn't saved by a group of people he called his chosen ones. (more on that later). As the plot progresses you'll learn more about the world and its history. You will encounter all sorts of creatures, do not be limited by the mundane. This is a world controlled by insanity itself. It could be contagious.
So, to the rules.
1. Don't be an ass. That includes no god-modding, no meta-gaming, no bunnying.
2. if you want to create characters from other realms, I'm up for it, but don't be cliché. And certainly no other gods in there okay?
3. This isn't greek mythology, so please don't put it in there. It's pure, random, and, I hope, Insane.
4. preferably more than one paragraph, at least five lines long
5. No reserving spots, I don't do spot reservation.
6. Have fun!
Alrighty, onto the Skeletons!
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Species: (only if you choose not to be from the earthly realm. Remember CREATIVITY!)
Personality:
Appearance:
My Character
Name: Aerin Eldaritch
Age: 193
Gender: Female
Species: Aerin is a part of a race known as the e'ljiohn (pronounced Ail-Yo-En). They are creatures of the ice and snow, used to temperatures well below freezing, and susceptible to too much heat. Their skin glimmers, as if their skin were made of millions of tiny ice particles, which could very well be the case. They live only in the coldest climates, never straying far from the snow and ice. They are small in size, the tallest recorded being 5'1''. The children are born from a blood crystal. That is, the parents combine a drop of their blood and leave the offering in the sacred cavern. The cold solidifies the blood and the ancient spirits perform a ritual. An embryo is created inside the crystal casing, and after the winter solstice, the new E'ljiohn join the community.
There are legends that suggest where the E'ljiohn first originated, but none can truly accurately pinpoint their origins. Some say that they were created by the gods of winter, molded by their hands alone and sent to be guardians of the mountains. Others say that they were created from the first ice age. There is even the myth that Jack Frost is in fact one of these creatures. What remains true is that very few have seen what they look like, or if they have, they've forgotten.
The E'ljiohn are peaceful creatures, but the young ones tend to play jokes on unsuspecting trespassers, leading an unwary traveller to a cavern and icing the front over, or setting traps for them. They like to throw their voices and mimic other creatures. They have an affinity with the ice and cold, and have a mind connection with many of the cold-inclined creatures, in particular the Skeg, a hound-like animal with the antlers of a moose.
Personality: Aerin is a creature of solitude. She finds solace in being alone, especially after her dismal, and rather gruesome past. She is quiet, timid, unlikely to initiate any kind of relationships with anyone. She enjoys the company of her trusty Skeg, Ezeral, the only one she hasn't lost to the beast that has been plaguing her life. She is terrified of most things, including shadows, heat, sudden noises, creatures she can hear but can't see. She'll often talk to herself to keep her nerves at bay, and can often be heard singing when talking isn't enough. She has a strong sense of right and wrong, and a kind heart.
Appearance:
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