Kill the One who Feels

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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.

Kill the One who Feels

Postby Matthew on January 14th, 2014, 10:59 pm



He was familar with this place. Stepping through the sparkling air, his eyes glanced from shelf to shelf, studying the many books that were perched there. There was everything from massive tomes to little slips of paper, though all of them were labeled in the same gold script. The bookshelves that they were found on were just as varied, ranging from simple wooden pedestals to glorious and twisting stone staircases. There weren't any actual shelves, just various types of scenery that had been used to hold books. The location was obviously indoors, or at least Matthew thought it was. He had never been able to find an "outside", for if one scouted the perimeter of this "library" they would find no doors. However, there were some outdoor features, which had also been used to hold books. Matthew was sitting on a rather cute wooden white bench that was beside of a small silver pond, which also held books that floated on its reflective surface. Absentmindedly he reached down, picking up one of the books from the water. It was dry. He let it drop back down again, watching it splash and sink, then pop back up to the surface. It still looked dry. Was that symbolic?

"Hi." A cheery old voice broke Matthew's thoughts, and his blue eyes shot to the source of the noise. There was a black table that hadn't been there before, with three seats placed around it. There was a single die in the middle, though the markings were different from what Matthew was familar with. One of the seats was occupied.

Grisham sat there, looking more sane than Matthew had ever seen him. Why was the old man from Sunberth in his head? "It is time to play a game, Matthew. For your sake." The harlot blinked, stepping forward. He knew this was a dream, but at the same time he didn't. Perhaps he was unsure. Glancing down, he noticed for the first time he was dressed very formally. He was wearing a nice black suit with a blood-red bowtie. He almost looked like one of the hustlers at some of the tavern poker tables. How very appropriate. He found his voice had leaked out, phrasing the obvious question. "How do I play?" Grisham chuckled, gesturing toward one of the seats. Matthew moved for it, sitting and making himself comfortable. His eyes wandered, reading the spines of books. He was familar with all of them, as well as their positions. One was labeled "Caela", one was labeled "Hunting". They were tomes of knowledge, all hand-written in his own head. He often retreated here to meditate and review, so it wasn't that uncommon for it to appear in his dreams. But Grisham? While there was a book for the old man, he had never actually materialized. The table and chairs were new as well... and if there were three chairs, that meant...

Grisham chuckled, nodding, grey eyes staring at Matthew with some level of amusement written in them. "Correct. You will have an opponent. I am only here to deliver the rules." Matthew tilted his head, eyes catching one of the various sparkling lights that hovered in the air. A game in his head. This was his head, wasn't it? Could he wake up? How would he even go about waking up if he wasn't asleep?

No, he was asleep. He was dreaming. He was just awake. In the dream. Grisham chuckled, folding his hands on the table, baring black teeth. Matthew shot him a look, annoyed. He enjoyed puzzles, but needlessly cryptic ones gave him a headache.

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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Kaie on January 16th, 2014, 2:13 am

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Her world was brighter than a splash of color upon a blank white page. Above there was no sky, only leaves. Giant green leaves of ever shade dominated only by Syna's light filtering through to expose their veins. Every now and then there was the flit of colorful birds between the branches of the canopy. Yet there was something strangely silent about the jungle. Until the soft padding of bare feet upon loose soil arrived followed by a tiger roar.

"Yashka! Ruta!" The Fang leader hissed from her hiding spot within the foliage. Momentarily, two female warriors slipped to her flank. Their eyes swept across the area before looking to their superior for instructions. "Spread out. We find Zinrah's opening and return later to smoke them out. Go."

The two nodded and turned to the rest of the small band falling in, making gestures with their hands. Within mere ticks, all had disappeared into the thick vegetation like ghosts. Only the occasional chirp to one another proved they did in fact exist. Several ticks had passed before the animal call returned to the Fang leader. A series of high pitched cries mimicking that of a territorial primate. An alarm, not an indication of a located hole to the Dhani cave city.

Each Myrian changes their course and sprinted toward the sound with weapons raised, mouths open in a savage roar. The female in charge whooped the loudest, screamed obscenities and slurs toward the unseen enemy, all the voices of different frequency giving the illusion of a larger force. However, just before the matriarch reached the fight that brought just a sadistic curl to her lip, the ground beneath her crumbled. The earth gave beneath her sprinting feet like a trap door. Suddenly she was falling, falling, legs flailing in a running fashion. Her eyes were wide, staring down into the dark abyss below. She let out a cry of defiance and grit her teeth. She would not fear, not this one.

Dira did not reap her so quickly. Instead she landed with thud of her feet upon the ground, knees bending to give away potential impact injury. However it naught but a hole she had landed herself into. Whatever jungle light that was once above was lost, lost to nothing but darkness again. Closed. Yet when she shoot, she found the ceiling was moving upward. Hands braced against it, she lifted the square up and shoved it aside. When she climbed out, the surroundings were strange. Books lined the walls. No doors in sight. No way out. Trapped.

Kaie began to move forward curiously, the elaborate bone jewelry she wore clicking with her steps. Eyes scanned about her warily, suddenly realizing the events weren't quite natural...Was she...Dreaming?

Suddenly she stumbled upon a small table with two male figures sitting, one last empty chair beside them. Kaie approached slowly toward them, prepared to interrogate the figures for some straight answers. Instead she found she recognized one. Matthew, the harlot from Syliras. But what was he doing here?


"Matthew?" She whispered in disbelief as she came around to get a better look, her features contorted by confusion.

"There she is! Sit," The unfamiliar figure in Matthew company exclaimed upon her arrival, his hand extending toward the empty chair. Strangely enough, Kaie obeyed and found herself seated in the chair. After oncing over the older fellow, the Myrian focused back to her friend with a questioning stare. Had he somehow bid her into this strange dreamscape? Or had they been dragged her together?
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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Matthew on January 18th, 2014, 12:09 am



"Oh, Kaie. What a pleasant surprise. How have you been?" For being pleasantly surprised, Matthew sounded as passive as always. He did give her a small smile though, tilting his head to watch her as she slipped forward and seated herself. Why would his mind choose her as an opponent? Was that actually the case? Or was this like some of the other dreams he had, were both people were dreaming them? Falling back on an old habit of biting his lip, he studied her for a few moments. She was quite dressed up, though in a different way than most people dressed up. For a Myrian, it seemed to involve stripping one's self of most normal clothing and adding on a lot of other decorations. He pondered this for a second, and then moved on. "Have the lessons come in handy? I have some things to ask you next time we meet. Have you ever been in love?"

The completey random question slipped innocently from his lips, but Kaie was given no room to answer before Grisham loudly clapped his hands. Matthew turned his attention to the older man, missing the look of confusion on Kaie's face. "This is a game about emotional strength. Put on these bracelets." Two thin leather bracelets materialized on the table in front of the two friends, small clear red stones set into a small metal piece that was linked to the leather. Matthew obediently took his bracelet, unclasped it, and attached it to his wrist. It immediately hugged to his flesh as if alive, causing the harlot to flinch a bit. Apparently it was not willing to come off. Grisham would wait for Kaie to put her own on, and then would continue on. "Whoever feels the most will be the one who loses. It does not matter if that feeling is love, hatred, sadness, or anger. When the emotion starts to grow strong, then stone in the bracelet will start to fill with light. If it completely flares to life, then that person has lost."

Matthew blinked, a bit put off. He rarely felt that much emotion, so he felt he would be able to keep it fairly under control. On the other hand, he felt like he had no idea how to invoke emotion in the Myrian woman across from him. "Each player will take seperate turns. On a player's turn, that player will say a single word. That word will cause a memory to jump to the front of the opposing players mind, and then that memory will materialize around us. This is the most common way to defeat your opponent. Using a single word, you must force them to reveal one of their most emotional memories." Matthew blinked a few more times, slowly absorbing the information. The man pointed to the die, which Matthew now noticed had words instead of dots. Pain, Hatred, Anger, Guilt, Death, and Love. "You may also choose to roll the die instead. If you roll the die, both you and your opponent will experience the same change of scenery that matches the theme rolled. If Love is rolled however, something different will happen." Grisham smiled for a brief moment, then leaned back and folded his hands.

"Each player will start by betting an item to give away to the winner of the game." Matthew was still trying to wrap his mind around the bizzare game, but found himself rising to get his bet. He couldn't tell if he was moving instinctively, or if the dream was pushing him along. In his mind though, he instinctively knew he simply had to wish, and Grisham would deposit his bet into his hand. However, this dream world seemed to consist mostly of his own mind, so he knew where to look for what he wanted to bet. Two items were gathered, and he soon came back to the table. Sitting, he placed them in front of Kaie, eyes peering at her own. "I will give you a choice of what you want to win, Kaie. It will not matter either way."

Kaie saw a familar spark in the harlot's eyes. It was that competiveness she had managed to drag out of him in their first encounters. So it was to be like that, hm?

A single key lay in front of the girl, plain and copper, dirty and worn. Beside of that was a book, exactly the same as the rest of the books in the library except for one simple thing. On the cover of the book was Kaie's name. Matthew quietly watched her, mind churning. He had noticed that the old man hadn't said if anything specific happened to the loser. He would have to get that clarified.

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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Kaie on February 4th, 2014, 1:46 am

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"Matthew?" She almost whispered in surprise, staring at the harlot she knew from Syliras in disbelief and plenty of perplexity. What was he doing here? And more so, was he actually here in the way she was in this suddenly bizarre dream? So many questions lingered on her lips and yet she couldn't find it in her to voice them just then. Besides, it's not like she could when he was sitting there with a small smile and a bite of his lip, already rattling off questions about the waking world. Like a thick mist ebbing with sunrise, Kaie was slowly recollecting memories and thoughts from her conscious mind. The slick curves of a toned body. An icy gaze that so strangely managed to freeze her fiery walls. Unfortunately she was not given leave to linger within those conjured images long. The strange man apparently had a strict agenda.

The Myrian blinked at the sudden noise of his hands, snapping her head the older man's way with an expression somewhere between annoyance and insult. Yet the man paid her no mind. Already he was speaking about some game and bracelets were summoned out of thin air. While Matthew seemed to think nothing of the request, Kaie found herself immediately wary of the entire situation. There was a pause as the other two waited for the strangely decorated savage to quit studying the leather bands and put it on. When she did it constricted around her wrist like some loathsome Anaconda suffocating its next meal. Not even her smallest finger could separate the bracelet from her skin, giving her no choice but to hope the same man would tell her how to get it off. Oh, if only she knew...

Until she did.

Holy shyke. Matthew and I are opponents in this strange little game of feelings? So I just have to pick the right word to make Matthew feel something strongly and I can take the damn bracelet off? That seems easy enough...but he conveniently said nothing of the fate of the loser...

The young Myrian woman licked her lips nervously, but kept little of her anxiety in her expression. Instead she found herself searching the harlot's face. An amber blaze working to burn away his exterior to find his secrets, expose his vulnerabilities that would give her an edge in odd match. However she found no clue of any kind behind his poker face. That is until she recognized that ever familiar smugness twinkle momentarily in his eyes. For one reason or another, they always had that affect on one another. Always bringing out the desire to challenge and conquer one another like a curse. But there was merit there. He knew things she didn't. Things about her, and like anyone, he knew dangling a whole collection of it right in front of her face would be too hard to resist. And then there was a mysterious old key. What a choice indeed.


"I'll take the key," She answered evenly and leaned back in her chair, turning her face back into a thick mask she hoped kept him in the dark. Kaie wasn't exactly sure why she picked the key over the book with her own name on it. Perhaps it was to spite him, to pick the thing opposite of what he might've anticipated she would. Then again, something dark lingering in the back of her mind whispered accusations of fear for the information inside. But it was not the time to ponder her own psychology. Instead it was time to rise to the stakes and offer something in return. But what could the harlot possibly find valuable?

Knowledge.


"I'll give you a choice as well," Kaie began slowly, leaning forward and placing her folded hands upon the table. She took a breath and exhaled deeply. Then she parted her fingers to reveal her own manifested object sitting in his cupped hands. An obsidian sacrificial knife. "If you win...You may choose any memory of mine to relive from my perspective. Whether you saw a glimpse of it during the game or you want to pick my brain for a specific one, all's up for grabs. Everything I saw, everything I felt is what you experience just as vividly for yourself. IF you win..." She offered wearily as she placed the cultural Myrian item in the center of the table beside the key. Then she leaned back in her chair and watched his expression, hoping it was something of some worth to him.

OOC:Is it weird I was really excited to finally respond to this one? :D
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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Matthew on February 4th, 2014, 9:58 pm




He studied her as she studied him, unflinching from her gaze. She was hiding the emotion on her face, or had at some point had her emotion taken from her. The former was much more likely, as he had heard the emotion in her voice before. She had been surprised to see him. Why hadn't he been surprised to see her? Everything here was dreamy to him, which made sense. He was aware it was a dream, even if his mind kept on insisting that it wasn't for some odd reason. Returning his attention to her, he searched the amber stare, wondering what secrets were underneath it. He knew little of her. He knew a bit about Myrians and a bit about Myri, but he didn't know that incredibly much about this particular Myrian woman. They had spent plenty of time together in Syliras, but it had all been very casual. That was how he liked it, personally. It had been an easy social interaction, and it had seemed easy for her as well.

When she chose the key, it was a surprise. He paused a moment, then collected the book. The old man offered a hand for it, and Matthew gave it over. The book had contained every bit of knowledge he had on Kaie, along with a very detailed summary of his personal opinion on the woman. This was probably obvious if she had been able to read any of the titles that were everywhere else in the dream library. He had thought it would too tempting for her to resist, but perhaps she had sensed that. That left the key. His blue eyes slowly flowed down, checking out her choice. He had never been able to solve the puzzle of that particular key. Would she be able to figure it out? Her offering was quickly given, and his nod was returned just as quickly. Already he began to turn the prize over in his mind, examining it from all angles. She had chosen correctly, if she had been aiming for something of some value to him. But what would he ask when he won?

Another thought occurred to him, and his eyes suddenly returned to Kaie. Lifting a hand, he gestured at her to come a bit closer, leaning over the table to meet her halfway if she indeed indulged in his silent request.

She would be met with a rather sudden kiss, only a faintly familar fire flashing in his eyes giving warning. There was the slow approach of course, which gave her more than ample time to pull away if she wished. If she did not, their lips would meet, Matthew's kiss as firm and bold as ever, his tongue skilled and confident in its quick entrance and exploration.

Images shimmered to life around them, replacing the library. The two of them were there, laying at the bank of the hot springs in Syliras, their eyes focused and their bodies entwined loosely. It was a nice day, exactly the sort of day it had been when they had met each other for lessons. The kiss had obviously given Matthew some sort of emotion, and just like the old man had said, that had allowed the memory to come to life around them. When they parted, the memory remained, their library table now sitting in the middle of Syliria's Wildlands. Matthew blinked a few times, furrowing his brow, staring at Kaie and then turning to Grisham. The old man sensed his question and nodded, answering before Matthew could ask. "Memories associated with strong emotion will materialize, even when done outside the turns. A sequence of words could cause a strong memory to come to mind, at which point that memory would replace the one currently seen."

Matthew nodded slowly, turning this over in his head. "What happens to the loser?" The harlot abruptly asked the question that was on both of his and Kaie's minds, and the old man gave a grin. "You die." Matthew paused, then slowly shook his head. "This is a dream." The old man shrugged his shoulders. "You'll die in the real world as well. Wake up if you don't want to play." Matthew narrowed his eyes, slowly processing this completely new information. He couldn't wake up. Would he really die in the real world? That didn't happen. That wasn't logical. But then again, neither was all of this. He clenched his jaw, turning to Kaie, his eyes searching for her reaction, using it to help find his own.

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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Kaie on February 9th, 2014, 10:16 pm

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She was a bloody fool, that young Myrian woman. Like a charming serpent recoiling from a limb, Matthew had tricked the bronzed savage into mirroring his learn inward. Had she believed he was planning on telling her a secret, offering a piece of advice regarding the game and the old man he seemed familiar with? In retrospect, it didn't matter. Her folly resulted in a kiss that truly surprised her, broke her guard down in a way she had forgotten it could. She should've seen the warning in his eyes...

The touch of their lips was familiar but the skill and intensity of it had truly increased since her last memory of it. Bold and confident was movement of him against her, his tongue equally so. Like so many times before, Kaie was drawn right into it. Eyes closed and she was lost in it for but a mere tick. She pulled away. Her eyes flashed upon in a fit of annoyance, brow knitting at the mere fact she had been manipulated. Matthew knew how well he performed that day at the Hot Springs in Syliras. He was well aware the effect he managed to have on her in their more recent encounters. It was almost unfair. Yet Kaie reminded herself that all was fair in love and war. And what a war it would be. At least he seemed to be just as shocked by their change of scenery as she was.

She snapped her head to stare at the image, the harlot's question and the old man's answer out of mind. Yet it wasn't emotion that really captured her but curiosity. Sure she remembered how intense and unbroken her focus and desire had been then, but watching it all unfold herself was so strange. It was like being a bystander in her own life. Looking into a familiar world that only vaguely felt like it belonged to her. It wasn't until Matthew's switched gears to ask a different question that she finally started to pay more attention.


"Um, what?" She responded sharply, whipping back around in her chair and arching a brow at the absurd notion posed. Amber hues flashed from Matthew and then to the old man."You can't be serious."

"Wake up if you don't want to play."

Petch.

Even if she did wish to cower at the impossible threat, Kaie couldn't will herself to awaken. It was only recently she realized she was in fact dreaming to begin with. Still she almost feel as if she needed some occasional reassurance of that reality. Gestures as simple as blinking felt vivid and real. There was no sense of her unconscious existence. Nothing more than the sense of her being and the environment. So now she had a decision to make. How exactly was she supposed to even respond? Kaie felt far more in control of events on a battlefield than she did now, and she was no master of any combat arts. At least in a fight she could've done her best to keep them on par, to protect her friend with the promise of a forced stalemate. Yet it was not combat that was their challenge, it was the exploitation of emotion. How could she dictate a realm in which even she was still so powerless? And since when did a Myrian let the threat of a conjured character force her fate? A Myrian defeated by nothing more than an intangible, powerless realm could never be considered a warrior of Myri at all.


"Fine. I'll play," She finally declared evenly in a sure tone, thought part of her almost wished Matthew would cop out and be replaced by a different person. Someone Kaie would have no problem potentially killing off in the real world. But since when did she ever get what she wanted?
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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Matthew on February 11th, 2014, 12:35 am



If he could see her annoyance he didn't hint it, but his forehead did knot in a moment of confusion. He leaned forward again with his eyes determined, as if he was going to kiss her yet again... but he paused, perhaps actually noticing the moment of frustration in her stare. Instead he licked his lips, wiping up a lingering taste of her, swirling it around in his mouth as he stared at her intensely. He paused and then slowly spoke, his tone distant and thoughtful. "You taste different. Like... blood." He blinked again, an actual look of utter confusion fully blazing in his gaze. "...and mint. You don't chew mint. Why do you taste like mint?" But then they were both distracted, and rightfully so. The old man had said something very interesting.

It was oddly hard not to get distracted by the scene of him and Kaie toying with each other in the background. He had used mirrors before in his line of work, but mirrors hadn't exactly caught the life of the scene that was playing out around them. He could smell sweat in the air, hear the pants of tongues in the air. It was unsettlingly real, and it kept dragging his eyes back. He didn't like distractions. It was usually hard for him to be distracted by anything but his own thoughts. Now his own thoughts were being painted in front of him in frighteningly real shades of paint.

He lounged back in his chair again, still studying Kaie, not so sure how to react. There was a moment of disbelief in her eyes, then a moment of unsureness, and then resolve. Would she be able to apply herself fully, then? Would he be able to apply himself fully? He reflected for a moment on this, and then lifted a hand to his face. Sighing to himself, he rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes and kneading at the knot that was forming in his skull. His head was starting to buzz. The gears were starting to move faster. The machine was whirring to life, and soon he would be consumed by his thoughts. "I don' t know where that key goes. No matter what I dream, it is always in my pocket. But there are no doors in this library. There are only the books. Only my mind. Perhaps you could find the door, Kaie. I've always wondered what would lie behind it." He slowly reached forward, grabbing the dagger, running his fingers over the handle of the obsidian knife. He slowly grabbed it, drawing it up to the tip, eyes still closed as the machine hummed.

Could he fully apply himself?

There was never any doubt.

"Hopefully you won't really die when I win this, then. Perhaps one day you can try again." His eyes flickered open, blue steel as cold as ice. It was a familar and unfeeling stare, the one she had gazed into when she had met him that very first day. His tone was not evil or malicious, merely there. They were merely words. They were logic, as was his reason for playing this game. As was his reasons for hoping she would play. He would not fault her for killing him to save herself. That wasn't the correct way to put it, perhaps. But he liked a puzzle. He liked a game. He liked having another to make the puzzle even more complex. If the man could feel thrill, this was the way he felt it. If he was almost a dead husk inside, then this was one of the few things that made him feel alive. This was the strongest emotion that he had left.

The key hummed for a split second, viberating in place. Matthew didn't seem to notice. He would strike and he would strike hard, using the only thing he knew about Myrians right off the bat. If it was true for Kaie like it was for Razkar, then perhaps this first blow would hurt enough to put her on her guard. He couldn't think of anything else at the moment, and would soon be left at the mercy of the dice. Fast and hard, a killing blow.

"I'll go first." He paused, blue eyes burning, stare considering Kaie for a moment. There was affection for the woman somewhere inside of him. He felt it with so very few people. Kaie, Razkar, Edreina... three, off the top of his head. Would there soon be only two? The word spilled out, firm and clear. "Home."

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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Kaie on February 16th, 2014, 10:12 pm

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At his mention of the key, Kaie's stomach twisted with guilt. If it really was a game to the death, the Myrian had no real intention of losing. There was so much gone undone...So much to be accomplished. So much to be expected from her. Yet that did not mean winning would be easy in any definition. For to win meant Matthew's potential demise, and that was not something to be desired. At least that's how she felt until he so coolly transitioned from an almost melancholy discussion of his lack of luck with the key, to a rather confident announcement of his eminent succession with her knife in hand. And she had thought him to be such a puzzle before...

Within an instant the twist of guilt's dagger in her torso disappeared like it had never pierced her at all. In its place came a mirthful grin, the twinkle of competition and defiance to adversity glittering in her eyes. It was a look she knew him to be well acquainted with. Yet in his laid that imperceptible steely cold glare in his. Even when Dira breathed upon their necks did they seem to feed off each other's unwillingness to submit. There was silent understanding between the two. There would be no foul for one triumphing over the other. Just the loss of the thrill that left when the game ended.

Let's see what you've got, Matthew, She smirked to herself alone, arching a brow in a challenging manner as if daring him to really strike her. What she hadn't realized was that he might've actually had to tools to do just that. To hit her with a single word that could all but cripple her. One that was felt like someone had buried an ax in her middle, nailed her right into that seat and left her speechless.

Home...

The Hot Springs dissolved as suddenly as it had come. In its place arose a vast congregation of tropical trees interwoven with bright vegetation in their prime, bright blooming flowers exploding from their shells from the ends of tangled tendrils. Yet in their mist was a sudden interrupted. Several long structures made from the jungle itself arose like great brown stones. Smoke reached lazily through openings along the wooden roofs up into the canopy. Myrians with skin much like Kaie's wandered about the tiny ghost of civilization outside Taloba. Some disappeared into the foliage with weapons and snares in hand, others flitted around with freshly killed animals tied by their appendages to the stake that carried them. Each body moved here and there, vanishing as quickly as they came.

Pain. Longing. Fear. Determination.

So many emotions mixed strangely into one vision. It was written all over her face, that internal battle each feeling waged inside of her. For so long her eyes glazed off into the image she so yearned for. It was never enough no matter how long she stared. No memory enough to sate her, especially when a younger version of herself exploded from the brush with a giggling Keikyo behind her, racing between the longhouses and back into the thick leaves. So close was she to breaking in that one moment. So close to defeat. Yet she would not have it. Not them. So without a single word being spoken, her set her jaw and jerked her head in Matthew's direction. Her eyes boiled with both inner rage and stubbornness. Revenge, she warned him.

Sooner or later...I'll have it.


"Family."
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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Matthew on February 18th, 2014, 10:25 pm



He saw the grin and he felt it, oddly understanding it perfectly. Excellent. She wasn't held back any longer, not for now. She was the strong Myrian female he had met in Syliras, and she would not hesitate to strike him down in this clash of wits. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Her bracelet lit, and a small piece of the puzzle firmly clicked into place deep within his mind. He saw the expression on her face suddenly replace itself with one much different than the last. Even if he couldn't understand everything in it, he could understand some things. He could understand the pain and the longing. He turned his eyes from her, taking a moment to soak in the surroundings. He had never been to her homelands before. Was this what it looked like? He allowed himself the time to marvel, finding a beauty in the vines and flowers, in the great trees and the dripping leaves. More Myrians than he had ever seen at once wandered around, each of them engaged in their own little task. Then one in particular burst through the underbrush, oddly drawing Matthew's attention right away. The child looked familar, the other child not so much. Why did the child look familar?

The harlot was distracted by the sudden flare of Kaie's anger, the sudden heat in the air singing the tips of his hair. It wasn't the same heat as last time. He had enraged the Tigress of Taloba. Her word caused him to blink, a stark realization coming to mind. He never talked about these sort of things. He instinctively held them close to his chest, even hiding them from his own eyes if he ever dared to try and look. But now? It was all laid bare.

Happy. Emotion. Loved.

I can't remember.

Her vision faded away, replaced by a family walking on the shore of the Zeltivian beach. It was Matthews bay, the place that the harlot himself had been named after. The vision fizzled for a moment, flickering in and out of existance. The gamemaster would not allow this, however. With a casual wave of his hand the entire thing solidified. Perhaps un-noticed, the old and rusted key viberated just a little.

The mother and father weren't all that extraordinary. They were a simple pair, though their clasped hands and the look of utter love in their eyes betrayed their precious intimacy. There was an intellect in the air around both of them, perhaps hinting at where Matthew got it from. More interesting perhaps was the young boy that darted around and between them, laughing and playing in the tide with a look of utter joy on his face. The bright blue eyes and mop of black hair instantly identified the child. It was Matthew, with more emotion than anyone had ever seen in years plainly displayed on his face. It was all there, astounding just because of who it was on, normal for any other child that the vision would have shown. Even more interesting was the young girl that was yelling at him, scolding him like only a little sister could. Her eyes matched his, as did her long mane of black hair. He stuck out his tongue, making a face at her.

Matthew's face didn't change. His bracelet let out a single flare of light, then faded.

Family? Interesting. But enough to budge him? Not quite, Kaie. Not quite.

But he still had nothing to fight back with. Dare he roll the dice? After 'Home', he was completely out of ideas. For a moment his eyes glanced to the dice, but he was afraid. One of the things he could roll had a hidden result. 'Love' was a wild card. He didn't like wild cards. He grimaced, then quickly spoke.

"Barbarians." Perhaps he could target that anger she had so quickly showed.

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Kill the One who Feels

Postby Kaie on April 29th, 2014, 10:38 pm

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At first it appeared as if her attempt had yielded results. Her own sphere of torment whirled into a world that belonged exclusively to Matthew. It was strange, how it all worked, the way it made her feel as if she had been present during the time of the images. The harlot and the savage were so intimate within the ever changing stage and yet so distant. It touched them with emotion but they could not so much as smell the environment's air. Instead they sat there and watched a little boy, with all the likeness of Matthew, race about mischievously with (what she assumed was) his family not far behind. She studied them all curiously, the small family. Wondered where his sister went, curious of how a boy with parents like his could grow into a man profiting off lust and whoring. And then it was gone. All with the uttering of a single world.

"Barbarians."

The image swirled and whirled as one like a whirlpool in a basin, down, down, down... and then it stopped. Like water it shifted with the change in motion. The colors shuttered and swam into one another almost as indecisively as the mind they were supposed to create imagery from. When it did settle there was a jumble of action, the idea shattering into thick shards of ideas like a broken mirror. Everything seemed mismatched and dysfunctional, as if each memory had been vying to prove its importance in representing the command over another.

"Deyhan. Barbarian."
"Savage. Cannibal. Heathens!"

The voices of both Myrian and outsider whispered in their appropriate tongues: Fratava, Common, Tukant, Myrian, and Pavi. The languages she'd heard most often in her travels. The image itself was less complex. Before the players there laid a bustling dock. Sailors waded up and down the planks to their ships, pedestrians from Syliras, Falyndar, and Endrykas passed by in sporadic bursts. It was no different than any street. Yet then the whispers turned to shouts and each language fought the others for the newcomer's attention.

"Killers!"
"Animals!"
"Flesh-eaters!"
"Savages!"


The bronzed woman entered the scene and one by one a passerby would join in with the whispers. They came closer as they took notice, barring her way until the jungle-born was moving more briskly. Her forearms whipped about, shoving and bursting through the growing bodies, their voices and accusations turning to shouts. It was if they were trying to suffocate her with their masses. And that's when the harshest accent of them all made its presence known. It was that one that had the heavily impact on the illusion of Kaie. Her own mother tongue. Their whispers were already her thoughts.

Deyhan. Deyhan. Deyhan.
"They do not live in Myri's light. They do not pay her in blood and gore."
"What better sacrifices to the Goddess Queen than these?"
Deyhan. Deyhan. Deyhan.


And just like that the gladius was tore from the sunkissed woman and she began to cut them down as they opposed her, chanting along with the most powerful whisper of all. Her sword flung red about the docks like a splatter of paint upon a large canvas. All the while her eyes were vacant, remorseless as if possessed. Kaie recoiled from the image and looked at Matthew but her band hardly stirred. Too mixed were her emotions and too basic was her understanding for anything else. The memory itself wasn't even whole but a combination to satisfy their needs. Now it was her turn and this time she rolled the die.


"Death," She read aloud when the die settled, her voice filled with curiosity. Amber eyes settled on blue and each knew once again it would begin.
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