Deleted
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Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Nov 8, 2010 14:29:18 GMT -8
Kiyoshi looked at the young girl standing there in this dangerous area without a seeming care about her surroundings. It was highly suspicious to say the very least, but this driving curiosity at his back wouldn’t let him walk away just yet. So question was whether or not Kiyoshi was willing to dive further down this rabbit hole or not…
“Where is the holder of choice?”
There was to much that Kiyoshi couldn’t make sense of yet to walk away. He’d indulge this urge at least a little farther, however his guard was raised at this point due to the circumstances around him. Just as much a threat as the area was the girl… never trust some little girl who is just fine amongst the worst of the city.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 8, 2010 22:12:45 GMT -8
"Are you the Holder of Heroism?"
Jaus would ask bluntly, he didn't know what else to say in this situation. The comic shop, alone with not but the dealer of the priceless torn aback pages of myth and legend. He was standing amongst them, as one.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Nov 8, 2010 22:23:16 GMT -8
"The holder of fire...where is he?" She asked in a as gentle of a tone as she could manage although, it was farely obvious she was not happy with this outcome. The holder of fire, for whatever reason she asked, must be the cook...that would the only reason she said that- he had to have a cheese burger. THIS WAS THE VATICAN FOR CHRISTS SAKE- they where richer then the royals and J.K. Rowling for that matter. She crossed her arms and sighed.- why was it the priest smelt like cheese burgers....................................he had better not be hogging. That was just down right rude and unsaintly of him, talk about confession.
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Post by The New Student Dean on Nov 9, 2010 0:06:32 GMT -8
Time To Darkness Moderator Note: The smell of death is in the air. Choose carefully.~VETIS Endrin.
Yes, amongst the blood of so many people of all these re-victimized victims stood your... "dear" Endrin.
Hahaha.
Hehe.
HEEHEE.
He looks at you with a knowing smile, his eyes wide---THROWING BACK HIS ARMS, HIS NOSE BREATHES IN DEEPLY.
HE SCREAMS WITH ALL HIS MIGHT AT YOU.
HAHAHA.
YOU'LL DIE.
HA.
DIE.
HAHA.
YOU'LL DIE.
IF THE SOUND LASTS FOR EVEN THREE MORE SECONDS YOU.
YOU.
YOU WILL.
YOU'LL DIE.
HAHAHAHAHAHA. JAYR BYRNE "I'm looking for the Holder of Progress, Is he here?"
Apparently annoyed, the worker lets out a huge, exasperated sigh, shaking his head, tutting quietly at you.
"You're only just got here now? Do you realize how late you are? Goodness, if all the world could only take their leisurely time! Well now, you're here at least. Come along, let's hurry!"
Quietly beckoning you along with an impatient hand, the bespectacled worker leads you along into a darkened corridor, ending in a concrete stairway.
"They have been waiting for you."
With that, he turns around and away, to leave you to traverse the stairway on your own... KANG GRIMES "Could I visit 'the Holder of the Law?'"
The fog will dissipate slightly... if only to the part around the warden's face. You see it smile at you, only as if to say to you "You poor soul."
He gets up and leads you through a narrow hallway with prison cells on either side...
The prisoners are on both sides, reaching out with their hands... They look like normal people. Criminals, perhaps, but normal all the same. They reach out, as if trying to touch you...
Do you try to reach back?
...Do you maintain the course and follow the warden diligently? TSUBAME HIROTAKI The crackling underneath only begins to increase further as you stare at the compass. Whispers can be heard from overhead as strange, pulsating things occasionally drag their way through your hair. The sides of the wall are filled with rot and twisted life, the aromas attacking your nose.
...There's an increasing dangling of things that touch at your head as you keep your diligent pace...
Do you stray slightly from the center-most of the path?
Do you maintain the course? KIYOSHI AKECHI “Where is the holder of choice?”"You wann' know?"
"Heh. Alright." [/center] Reaching for your hand, she pulls you gently, leading you not too far---the nearby building, in fact. The building itself looks old and run down, but you can make out the fact that it is in fact an old apartment-turned hideout for more shady activities.
The aroma of various substances fill the air. Some of them are familiar to you... others, you've never smelled before in your life. One of the tables you pass by are surrounded by a group of what appears to be such shady teenagers, sampling some drugs.
Do you stop to check who they are and what they're doing?
...Or do you continue to follow the girl diligently?
Heehee.
Choose carefully.[/spoiler] KAZUYA HIKARI "... I need to see 'The Holder of Joy.'"Your scouter fails to detect anything...
...From the person who is sitting quietly, in front of you now. Perhaps it is ever-pervading fog, but you have difficulty in seeing this person. However, you can for certain see the individual in front of you shudder violently as you make your request to see the Holder. Quietly, he looks up at you, knowing what you may very well throw yourself into, what you risk.
He knows. "...I... I beg of you. Please. Please, reconsider." Is it for your own well being that he speaks to you?
Well, you have choice.
Do you gently, gently insist to the man that you see the Holder of Joy?
Do you heed the man and walk away, accepting ignorance for what may be more probably sanctity? JAUS VALENTINE "Are you the Holder of Heroism?""Hm." "No." Perhaps he has no idea what you're talking about. Or perhaps this man is hiding something.
However, so far as you know, he is the comic book owner. Perhaps if you asked to speak to...
...Danger is closing in.
The fog is growing thicker...
You can feel it in your heart. BASTILLE CUNNINGHAM Your timing is impeccable. The old man reacts, shaking his head three times---while pulling out of his robes a cheeseburger. He bites into it.
Knowingly.
Tauntingly.
The dribble of the freshly cooked meat, mustard, ketchup, and melted cheese gently swim down to his chin, where an old tongue licks away at it.
You have a choice.
Take heed of his shaking head and exiting.
Insist again that you see the Holder of Fire.
...Say "f*** it," Grab the cheeseburger and run out like a loon.
Might not be so bad. This may very well be your last chance to safely say no and attempt to find dreamland again. Or perhaps you've already fallen into the Holder's domain... FARREN REMINGTON TREBORN "I'm here to see the 'Holder of the Mind'." Nutjob?
The receptionist looks up at you... she looks up with you, holding a look of reluctance on her face just long enough for you to see it. Standing up quietly, the receptionist looks up at you and extends her hand for a moment. She beckons you with the tips of her fingers to follow her.
Should you follow her, the receptionist will lead you down a hallway and then, up a flight of stairs...
...Up a flight of stairs...
...Up a flight of...
...
Should you follow the receptionist down the hallway and up the stairs... well, there's a lot of stairs. An unrealistic amount of stairs to go up. BRAD WHITE ...Years pass.
Literal. Years.
Three-hundred sixty-five days multiplied by X.
So many years that you lose count...
...Hehe.
Do you keep waiting?
Or will you let impatience get the better of you? MATTHEW AMTRUM And with that, for no reason other then... a reason...
You understand. Yes.
Yes.
You understand.
You have to get yourself to a mental institution or halfway house.
Why?
Perhaps you do not understand that... but the feeling grows into a developing desire.
You feel you should head out. Now. KENIN KATASHI Your call out to the fog presents itself to be fruitless. Or perhaps... you only hope that it was fruitless. After all, in this all-consuming fog... it's impossible to tell what it contains.
And with that, for no reason other then... a reason...
You understand. Yes.
Yes.
You understand.
You have to get yourself to a mental institution or halfway house.
Why?
Perhaps you do not understand that... but the feeling grows into a developing desire.
You feel you should head out. Now. ROTH O'ROAK And with that, for no reason other then... a reason...
You understand. Yes.
Yes.
You understand.
You have to get yourself to a homeless shelter.
Why?
Perhaps you do not understand that... but the feeling grows into a developing desire.
You feel you should head out. Now.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Nov 9, 2010 0:17:13 GMT -8
Oh look...the taunting type. With a quick smash Bastille rammed her her leg up and hooked it to his neck forcing him to the ground and using her heeled boot to dig into his chest. Grabbing the burger she bit out of the other end and then smirked.
"Time for Confession father....I asked where the holder of fire was, and you will tell me....." Time for option four. She unsheithed her sword and dragged it along his chest and towards his vital regions.
"Lets start with confessing the sins to do with gluttony....that would be your stomach right?" Her sunglasses fell down her nose a bit exposing her blood red eyes and the black scar marks around them.
"God is impatient..."
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Lasia Able
Trainee
Sacred Guardian
Posts: 46
200x300 Avatar: https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/steins-gate/images/a/ad/Kurisusg0.png/revision/latest?cb=20181010151114
Application: http://phs259.proboards.com/thread/8847/syrene-drevis?page=1&scrollTo=211747
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Post by Lasia Able on Nov 9, 2010 0:21:16 GMT -8
I'm tired
Tsubame kept walking forward never once straying or stopping. Where did this path lead? What was her final fate? She would not find these things if she stopped. Such minor distractions as things moving through or past her could be ignored. All things could be ignored... My legs hurt
I am thirsty
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Roth O'Roak
Soldier
Arrogant Warrior Blacksmoke[M:1067]
A knight without armor in a savage land[A1i:3]
Posts: 433
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Post by Roth O'Roak on Nov 9, 2010 8:07:56 GMT -8
All this fog reminded Roth of when he used to smoke. He could use a cig right now. Mint Menthol, or perhaps a nice Black. Or maybe if he could find a smoke shop he could roll his own. That was when it was it's best, although it did look like a joint.
There wasn't many people around. In fact there was no one really around. It just seemed empty and lonely. He still hadn't seen Marcus, but still didn't think much of it. From here he would set out behind the Jungle Cat to head for his car. Wait, where was his car? Orange Supra...maybe Marcus had borrowed it. Oh well.
Roth began to stroll the empty foggy streets. He enjoyed the loneliness, and his body still felt pretty good even after a full night of drinking. He had the urge to go somewhere. He knew how to get there, and where it was, but he didn't know what he was after.
It felt like an instant. He remembered walking, and now he was here. On the East Side of Long Beach no doubt. The fog was still present. Roth looked up to see a large sign that read 'Homeless Shelter'. Guess this is what he wanted.
Looking around he remembered he was shirtless. Maybe he wanted in the homeless shelter because he was cold. Was he homeless? The strip joint wasn't a good home. The Chula Vista dorms were not his home. Neither were the dorms at Mugen Hall. No. Unless he was back in Boston, he was indeed homeless.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Nov 9, 2010 9:44:35 GMT -8
Mathew was feeling overwhelmed by the fog, the crushing loneliness. He knew it was a dream, but only vaguely, after all there was no way he could be the only one here. That thought was only in the back of his mind, in the forefront Mathew was in a slight panic. He didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be forgotten. This was his greatest fear. To be alone, forgotten, fading in to mist. He felt almost frantic.
Suddenly he knew what to do. He needed to go to a mental institute. It made sense. He couldn't explain why it made sense but he knew it made sense. He didn't even remember deciding to go before the ground started to shift under his feet. It seemed like only seconds, though it could have been hours, before he stood in front of the old Saint Hugo's hospital for the mentally ill. It had been abandoned for close to twenty years. The gates in the front were old and worn, the gate hung by a single hinge and the fog seemed to choke the grounds.
Reaching once more in to his pocket he closed his eyes. Trying to bring the fact that it was a dream to the forefront of his mind, it worked for a moment, if only a moment. Then the gut wrenching loneliness gripped him again. Not a single soul was left alive, he was alone, he was in hell.
You know you deserve this Mathew. You push everyone that tries to get close to you away. You are unloved because you can't love yourself.
The thought came unbidden to his mind.
"Shut up!" He growled to himself as he stood at the gates of the old mental hospital. And as if to prove that he could love himself by taking action, any course of action he stepped forward, entering the grounds.
His skin started to crawl, it the fog was ominous and he could only make out shadows in the fog. Shadows that revealed themselves to be statues and a fountain as he got closer. Closer and closer the door became, Mathew spinning around slowly, trying to keep his eyes on all directions at once. He was expecting something to jump out at him. Like in a horror movie, unable to accept that he was alone, he knew something had to be in the fog. Watching him, waiting for him.
"I'm not afraid of you!" He called out defiantly at nothing. Unable to even decide which way to face. Then suddenly out of the fog there was a thinning of the fog. The stairs. He saw the stairs that lead to the door of the hospital. Slowly he made his way up them, wary of them falling under him, sending him to a black abyss, until he made the door.
He closed his eyes again for the smallest of moments to gather strength before he pushed the door open with a loud creak the old abandoned mental hospital was no longer abandoned...
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Brad White
Trainee
[M:444]
Now you all know the Bards and their songs.[A1i:4]
Posts: 85
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Post by Brad White on Nov 9, 2010 11:38:42 GMT -8
Time passed as Brad sung to hall with no one in, so much time he wondered why he hadn't already stopped. Days flew, become weeks then months and year how could he not have notice, and sense of dread that he had from when he first left his home grew as the years went by. "What the f**k, what am I doing, why am I still bloody here." Brad growled to himself, not realizing that all these years that had passed not once had he done things required to remain alive.
Suddenly he stood with in agitation, and looked up at the stage and then to the door. "Damn this." He muttered moving as if to head for the door only to realize he was instead heading for the stage. His backpack coming to his hands, being opened and his guitar pulled out, before jumping up onto the stage. Fingers moved like lighting as he started to ram to the air, and sing about the situation with line made up on the spot.
"Many years and cheers have passed, and it seems I am truly the last. Master of music to herald this hall, creating the words as I stand tall. To bare this boredom, a simple task, when music I make pours like water from flask."
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Post by Kazuya Hikari on Nov 9, 2010 12:09:54 GMT -8
His eyes flaring in mild surprise, strange... and yet intriguing. His scouter had failed to detect anything from the person that was sitting right in front of him, under his nose. Perhaps it was his eyes playing tricks on him, or perhaps it was the fog, but Kazuya had difficulty in seeing the individual. And yet... he could see with 100% certainty the individual shudder quite violently at Kazuya's request, his eyes flaring in mild surprise in reaction, as the man looked up at Kazuya quietly, as if he knew something that Kazuya didn't.
But what was it that he knew? "..." Was the man speaking to Kazuya for his own well-being? Or was it something else? Everyone held a fear of the unknown, whether they knew it or not. The difference was, there were those who accepted it and trudged on, and those who ignored it and ran from it, to escape from it. "... Please allow me to see 'The Holder of Joy.'" Kazuya repeated once more, this time gently, he had come this far into the unknown, there was no turning back... even if it cost him... everything.
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Post by Vetis on Nov 9, 2010 17:35:37 GMT -8
Endrin was making his head hurt. He had to die.... again apparently. With the exception of all the pain running through his head this nightmare was more like a dream come true. Vetis was sort of depressed when he had heard Endrin had died. How he wished to kill him with his own hands. Ask and ye shall receive!
"I always fucking hated you" he would say to Endrin as he made his way through the mass of spectors protecting him. He went matrix on there asses. A tossed head here, a spinning flip kick there. Using on person as a bat to beat the shit out of the others. He made his way over to Endrin to finish what he had started on his back. DIE MOTHER FUCKER DIE MOTHER FUCKER DIE!
The noise had caused him to further bleed out of orphesus one should not bleed out from but it didnt matter. Vetis grabbed Endrin by the throat and slammed his head into the bedpost over and over again until his ghostly wails went a bit quiter. Grabbing both of his undead hands he would bend them like Beckham until he heard the satisfying pop of the bones going through the skin. Using his qi on it he transmuted the bones in Endrins arms into batons and smashed in Endrins ribs until they were naught but jelly. If you are wondering why Endrin wasnt putting up a fight, it was cause the resistance he could offer Vetis wasnt worth mentioning. At one point he was his greatest rival but he was always soft when it came to fighting, more of an idealist. Also he was apparently an undead zombie banshee and decay took its toll on his ability to take a punch. When Vetis did things he often heard music in his head, this was his 9th symphony moment right here. Thank you Beethoven
Endrins last words "I forgive you." Yea way to ruin the moment....dick.
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"Adam"
Trainee
[M:694]
Why am I here? Might as well make the most of it.[A1i:5]
Posts: 32
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Post by "Adam" on Nov 9, 2010 21:58:56 GMT -8
Yea, thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. [/center] As Kang began to follow the warden into the narrow hallway, he saw hands grasp towards him. Those words were what stuck in his mind. Where was he going, or what shall he find? Only one way to go. Forward. He tried his best to ignore and move out of the hands way. He would have to go on instincts, for that was all he was surviving on now. Thinking too hard, he didn't know what could happen. It seemed like it was literally a "do or die" situation.[/spoiler]
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2010 23:01:36 GMT -8
"No."
A pensive stare in reply as he revealed his otherwise impatient mood. No, was not the answer he was looking for. With the fog cloud coming in Jaus lurched forward to grab the man by his collar and rise him up from the ground into the wall behind him.
"Listen I'm not very patient.....can you tell me where I can find him?"
A patient moment, that being said quite liberally.
"Last chance."
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Jayr Byrne
Veteran
[M:-1304]
Student Liberation Front[A1i:1]
Posts: 776
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Post by Jayr Byrne on Nov 10, 2010 0:34:28 GMT -8
The long Wait "You're only just got here now? Do you realize how late you are? Goodness, if all the world could only take their leisurely time! Well now, you're here at least. Come along, let's hurry!"
The quick beckoning hand would trigger Jayr along to follow in silence, all but of course her heels matching with the pace of the floor. Each step bringing her along closer to the person leading the way. Intimidated slightly, albeit the fog outside rang to her notions far worse than the initial prospect of this one here so she pursued. Blindly, stupidly perhaps but she followed. Finally stopped at the long stairwell.
"They have been waiting for you."
"They?"
Gone, left with no reply as Jayr looked about, her hand quickly pivoting against the wall for safety wanting to retreat back up but bravely she descended coming along the corridors and fearful manners lying in the emptiness.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
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Post by Veyugan ~* on Nov 10, 2010 0:40:57 GMT -8
I apologize for the delay. As soon as the Czech's fingers wrapped around the scythe, his body was flooded with a foreign cold. Hopelessness poured into Veyugan as the cold spread throughout his body. What was going on? He had never experienced anything like this before. It wasn't anything like the cold he had experienced in either the New York or the Czechoslovakian winters. It seemed that the cold wasn't the only thing affecting Veyugan. Darkness began to fill the room - or was it his vision? Falling to his knees, the Czech began to shake violently. What was happening? Is this the end? No, he wouldn't let that happen. Struggling to his feet, Veyugan wielded the scythe, rushing toward the balcony. The darkness had almost extinguished the light in his vision, or the room - whichever was being consumed by the void. The Czech hoped the daylight - however 'foggy' would stamp out the dark. As the Czech opened the door, blackness consumed him. With his last move, he swung the scythe in anger at the blackness, dropping it as the movement was completed. He felt his body fall to the ground as a metallic cling rang out as the scythe hit the ground.
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