A Squire, a Sailor and an Artist [Ricky and Gale]

A Syliran experiances an interesting dream with two Zeltivans.

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Herein lies the realm of dreams, where dreamers who are scattered all over the world in the physical can come together in the mysterious world of dreams. Remember, unless one is a Dreamwalker, there is no control over dreams. Ever. Anything can happen, and by threading a dream, you are subject to whomever can walk dreams and the whims of Storytellers.

A Squire, a Sailor and an Artist [Ricky and Gale]

Postby Kreig Messer on March 1st, 2015, 5:32 pm

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5th of spring.

“Huh, well this is interesting…” Kreig thought as he sat at the edge of the pier, not just any old piere though but a particular ratty one from bloody ol’ Sunberth. He could see the hazard that was its old floor boards threatening to break off at any moment, dropping him to an unsavory death below to the rocky waters that happened to be the sea gods domain. He almost wanted to get up and walk away but then he noticed something odd about all this ‘ Where’s the creakin’ sound?’ Sunberth’s port was old and rotten, sure it frequently got fixed up but there was no doubt about its shoddy workmanship, always there was a sense of dread when you walked overs it broken floorboards but as he sat here…. He heard nothing, not even a whine of complaint of its own weight. In fact the whole thing felt positively solid.

He turned around to look at just why that is and well….it was interesting to say the least as he looked at the sights of the building and roads behind him “ An’ here I thought I was too broke to buy myself ale yesterday….” The architecture was quite odd, as if someone brought three different cities and mashed them together to create something that a 2-year old child would be flabbergasted at the anarchic melding of it all. The Sunberth buildings were quite prominent on one side really, its dirty paths and whatever passed as roads littering the ground in comparison to the disciplined and orderly corridors of the Syliran walls that he’d come to know for more than a year or so. The walls were somehow large and spacious rather than the usual choking confines one grows accustomed to in a castle that held thousands among thousands of citizens however with some sunberthian buildings and other foreign architecture seemingly melding into them, leaving only the front of these buildings entirely visible and side by side by the doors that led into the homes and shops of Syliran citizens.

He wondered about the foreign architecture however….. It was definitely not Kenashian, much of that was certain but somehow there was some weird familiarity. As if related to something or someone he should know “ Shyke, maybe I’m actually dead and this is some odd form of afterlife in which I am to earn my penance?” It seemed like a definite possibility though he knew how highly unlikely that was. He debated to himself whither he should go and explore really, to discover more about this odd realm his mind had cooked up… but in fact he didn’t have much of a choice as his feet began to move of their own violation; Perhaps curiosity had gotten the best of him and so he went forward? At least that’s the hope he held as moved further, unaware of what or who he will find….

“I wonder if I can get drunk in a dream…” It would be something to be heavily tested if he encountered a bottle of ale somewhere.
x
Last edited by Kreig Messer on March 2nd, 2015, 7:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
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A Squire, a Sailor and an Artist [Ricky and Gale]

Postby Ricky Maze on March 2nd, 2015, 6:47 am

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The taste of iron had grown stronger and stronger in his mouth as the insane amount of ringing in his head finally died out, his entire face felt bruised and nearly broken all over while his limbs were all but useful in this situation. Chains from the ceiling bound his arms while cuffs held his ankles in place to the floor, both pairs of limbs exhausted from what felt like bells of endless fixation in this horrid position. He hadn't the slightest clue who had managed to put him in this place nor what they looked like now that he thought about it, the very room he remained bound in just so happened to be nearly pitch black save for the lonely table with a candle that burned restlessly on its surface. Why... am Oi 'ere?... What's goin' on? He wondered as he tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness around the room, his vision however refused to correct the red tinted blur the world held before him.

"Let's take a step back, shall we?" A figure stood before him finally as only an arm and shoulder became outlined, the candlelight just barely bright enough to provide that bit of detail before the figure's body swallowed the light whole. He stood in front of Ricky now, no light to provide him any means of seeing what came next. He felt an impressive jab to his lower abdomen which brought a wheeze out of him, a couple more hard punches thrown at his torso as he found no energy to struggle. He just stood there, practically dangled since his knees gave out, with his insides bruised and throbbing with incredible pain. The urge to vomit became something he managed to choke down at least, though that didn't stop the taste of blood from welling up inside his mouth. One last hit slammed him hard across the face, knocking his left eye hard as he groaned deeply in pain.

"T'at... was a step back?" He rasped between deep dry gasps as the sweat from his forehead started to drizzle, the gashes across his face soon felt burning sensations as he forced his right eye to open once more. He need something! Anything to analyze and provide detail, granted that he hadn't a single clue about this situation he found himself in.

"Compared t' de stupid shyke ye've pulled, Oi'd say d'at would be a given." That voice though... it sounded strangely familiar even if he couldn't see the face, he just couldn't place a name to it yet. Who was this person he knew? What did he do to make them an enemy? In his confused frustration he managed to squirm just a bit, the chains rattled for a few ticks as their sound echoed off the walls, so far he knew he was in a room somewhere. Where though? All in good time it seems, right now he just needed to find a way out.
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A Squire, a Sailor and an Artist [Ricky and Gale]

Postby Gale Austin McCenry on March 28th, 2015, 2:41 am

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It was a nasty, horrible thing.

It was old. The twine looked like the threads where tearing apart, fraying like unkempt hair or merely disintegrating into fragments. The only thing holding the long rope together was the mold and moss and whatever gunk had managed to multiply on it. It was like green, dirty glue and the whole thing looked dreadfully dangerous even to look at. Like looking at the thing would give you an infection or burn your throat. It was made with malice intent, yet he was holding it in his hands.

Despite it's obvious old age and it's strange will to hold itself together, the noose wasn't even tied well at all. It was far too loose, it would have fallen apart should anyone attempt to use it for any purpose, and the hole was large enough to fit around his waist. The end of the rope of too short so you couldn't tie it to anything, and with all of that adding up, it was just an awful, awful piece of thread. It was a horrible thing. It's old twine was stained a light red, but it was awful. How could something like this could have ever worked for anything?

Gale, sitting on his legs on the hard wood floor, simply starred at the item. Face blanker than a fresh sheet of parchment. His blue eyes watched it as if it would move as it laid in his hands. But it just stayed there.

The room was dark, the candle having melted into a puddle several hours ago. His shadow was cast all along the floor of the room, the moonlight beaming through the window like a screen. Nothing had dared to make a sound. The silence was thick enough to have scratched with your nail. Until crumbling and all the sounds it made went off like Sirens.

The widower's head flew up eyes wide. His chest expanded, taking in the dead air around him before it bursting forth,"Wa-" he screamed, but he looked down, the noose was gone. His head zoomed up, it hung brilliantly above him. But a wooden chair that wasn't there before fell over on top of him, forcing Gale to shove it away. He scrambled to his feet, flinging himself to the door. He exited the room and looked down the dreary hall. "War-" He hollered again, but this time someone had shoved him out of the way of the doorway and ran into the room. But he didn't pay it any mind.

Standing up, the artist ran down the hall, chasing the wind in front of him like a frantic man, heart pounding in his ears. He skid around a corner, a glimpse of bare feet running around the other corner. "Wart-" He tried again. This time, he stopped himself.

His head cocked to the side as he heard mumbling through the wall. He came to a stop, holding his heavy breaths to listen. There were no discernible words, but the noise caused the man's feet to turn to the door in which the audible voices were behind. Gale's hand reached for the cold door handle, turning it slowly until it couldn't anymore.

He then pushed it open, and as it swung, silence rung through the hall that was now visible behind the unlocked door. This hall was pitch black.

NoteSorry it took me so long you guys. I wasn't sure where to put Gale because both of you were in different places and such and I really didn't know where the setting was, so I kinda just decided to do my own thing and then place him in the general area of Ricky. I can change my post and such if you need me to or anything but there we go. XD Again, sorry for the wait.
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Gale Austin McCenry
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A Squire, a Sailor and an Artist [Ricky and Gale]

Postby Kreig Messer on April 17th, 2015, 9:31 pm

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Well, this place is a delightful mess” Kreig said after wandering a bit, the mish-mashed architecture in this dream world proving to be more bizarre the longer he traversed. He wasn’t sure what the architecture that seemed to add some sort of… elegance? Whatever that contrasted with the disciplined halls of Syliras and the anarchic air of Sunberth. With each step he felt like he was walking on a dirt path merging with that of stone one, except it merged like endless patches so there was never a definite footing that solidified the feeling of his boots against the ground. Sometimes his footsteps echoed, sometimes not, it was all very annoying.

Whenever he observed the items in this world he was in, there was always a drastic difference to a subtle one; Like a door that was ten times his size while another was an inch just below his height. Another example were two lamp posts that seemed to be exactly the same, yet always elicited the feeling that one was either just shorter or taller than the other, never mind the fact the fact they were indoors with a chandelier above them.

Yes, it was all so bizarre and simply seemed to increase the longer he stayed. He was traversing a hall way now, long and seemingly infinite like a river. He had continued walking down it with his boot eliciting a random frequency of steps, the single thought on his mind simply being " Goin’ to reaaaallly need that ale about now."

Suddenly he felt like he could hear voices, loud enough to seem that they were near him yet muffled as if behind a closed door. Except, there was no door near him and nothing but this endless hallway that threatened to consume infinity. Picking up his step, he began running to try and get closer and closer to this sound, the sounds he heard seemed to be something out of a scuffle except one sided and thus his sense justice and curiosity was well lit to try and find out what was going on.

He just need to reach the end of this hallway….

x
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"You gents best be careful, I'm feelin' mighty rabid right now... and your the only ones around to bite"
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A Squire, a Sailor and an Artist [Ricky and Gale]

Postby Ricky Maze on April 21st, 2015, 6:58 am

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At first he tried to pick himself up but his legs couldn't support his weight any at all, the amount of exhaustion he felt within them had been too great and with the chains to holster him up for such a extended period, it shouldn't have been a surprise he felt so weak and weary compared to his usual self he wore everyday. "It's not every day yer own guilt git's t' punish ya, d'en again ye've only allowed it t' do so quietly 'fter all." The voice of the torturer echoed within the chasm of darkness Ricky felt trapped in, he wondered just infinite this pitch black carried out since there didn't appear to be any sort of artificial light.

How can d'is bastard see in de dark? An' why does he sound... It almost sounded way to close to be exact, but he couldn't let his imagination deceive him in this room. The enemy had already trapped him in his grasp after all, there had to be means of getting out. "Ye're a... cowardly bastard. Hidin' away in de dark de way ye do." He challenged as he hoped to provoke the man, so far he had a voice to go by that sounded deep. A deep voice that lacked the absence of warmth he was familiar with, if anything he could guess that this person could easily be angered if antagonized. "Why resort t' such a pathetic means t' hide yer self, when it would be all de more satisfyin' if ye can see in light?" For a moment he dangled there in silence, and then a smug light chuckle could be heard two to four feet before him.

"Oi can see ya just fine. D'at stupid look ye wear reminds me just how much o' a dumb ass ye 're, besides it's not important t' as t' why ye 're 'ere in de first place." Ricky tried to crook his head to where his left ear would pick up the sound more, in an attempt to find the source of the location for him anyways. It didn't pay off course because he felt the hard impact of a fist slug his right cheek, with another malicious chuckle to follow as something pierced flesh in his left shoulder. He felt some sort of metal object cut deep into his flesh, all the way out the other side of the shoulder while a jagged edge slowly tore the muscle found in its path. The fisherman bellowed with a cry of pain as he tried to fight burning throbs that pulsed from the point of the wound. "What's de matter? D'at hurt too much?!" His torturer beckoned with delight, the tool on a reverse path from its entry point in the same slow manner it had protruded. Ricky stirred as he tried to struggle and fight back, a sense of agonizing hurt flared all around his left shoulder.

Once the damned object finally left his flesh all that remained was the warmth that trickled down both his front and back torso, his left arm nearly gone numb save for the area which throbbed the most. Then the door at last flew open to allow in only a small amount of light, enough that it nearly blinded Ricky upon first seeing its appearance. Yet it had been the curtain of hope he'd hoped to come across, the meaningful sign that he wasn't alone granted him cause to fight against the impossible odds put before him. The person before him had at last taken to become a figure in the darkness, and with just the right amount of light this figure would soon have a detailed form. Ye tricky bastard!! The fisherman yelled with rage as he directed his right hand as far down as he could, with the mark of Luminance still present on his hand he called forth the power it granted him. From a tiny glimmer that barely held any life before its fade, a ball of light greatly burst before him to illuminate the area before him. Just as darkness swallowed and devoured all light in this room, the new found light chased away all shadows as the figure retreated back.

Before the light dimmed Ricky managed to get a good look at his torturer, his menacingly glare turned to shock upon what he'd saw. Big and burly with brown hair and the same deep blue eye color, and the same facial features that gave Ricky his own appearance. Ricky had been torturing Ricky? Well he wouldn't anymore as the light from Ricky's Luminance sent him away, the shadows quick to engulf him as he disappeared without a trace. All that remained was Ricky and whoever had come to his rescue, whether they intended for it or not anyways. He looked over to the doorway with eyes squinted from the light, his own source now faded away just before allowing the person to get a good look at who he'd come to find.
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Credit goes to Fallon for allowing me to temper with her codings! :)
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Ricky Maze
"Bottom's up!"
 
Posts: 2397
Words: 2035002
Joined roleplay: March 30th, 2011, 9:02 pm
Location: Nyka -> Wildlands -> Syliras
Race: Human, Mixed
Character sheet
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Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 7
Trailblazer (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2014 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)


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