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Karth - Dreams
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Friday, 22 Jul 2011, 9:51 PM | Message # 1 |
 Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Karth suddenly realized that he was suddenly realizing something. It wasn't a normal state of realization; however, more like the gradual awakening one gets after a bender - a sharp, sudden migraine followed by a hazy cognizance. He was trapped in a void, encumbered by an overwhelming sense of helplessness; his arms and legs refused to move, he simply stood, paralyzed, and watched in stunned silence as the emptiness around him began to shift. Where once there was nothing, suddenly there was everything. A structure, ablaze and crumbling, the air choked by smoke and the scattered, dying screams of the condemned. It was a place just on the edge of memory; a cruel reminder of all he had lost - everything.
Faceless, soulless devils clad in chalk-white armor paraded throughout; reveling in the torment they wrought upon their victims. Innumerable, horrified stares pleaded with him for some sort of salvation; be it some fruitless attempt at rescue or simply a reprieve from their suffering, and it pained him that he was unable to grant them even that. Off in the distance, the night sky burned with the fires of change; as if heralding the destruction in a violent procession, the harbinger of a new era. It was simultaneously terrifying and eerily calming, even as the steps of the great temple were stained crimson with blood. He tried to scream, but found himself frozen in time; a witness to unspeakable acts of betrayal, of utter ruthlessness.
The world around him shifted yet again; he soon found himself standing in a white room, devoid of furnishing or decoration, just four windowless walls. A shape sat in the corner - a woman, from the looks of it - and she showed no indication of sensing him. Her raven hair spilled over her bent knees and she sat there, head resting against folded arms; a portrait of abject sadness, shutting herself off from the rest of the world. He soon found that, unlike before, he was able to move. He approached her hesitantly, and she turned to look up at him. Those eyes, those azure-specked rings, they bore into him like daggers. Her expressionless face simply regarded him, studying him as though he were some lab rat, before she turned away again. Where had he seen her before?
One more shift, this time the colorless walls faded away; she faded as well, and he found himself staring into a sea of bodies. Each one cried out in silent terror; widened eyes that chilled him to the bone, mouths twisted in unimaginably grotesque screams. At the forefront of them all stood a man; aged and emaciated, who offered a hand out to him. Karth stretched out his own; yet he could never reach him. He simply floated above them all, as if they were but ants beneath him; and he tried to scream again. This time, the scream ripped out of his lungs like the shrieks of the damned, the space around him reverberated beneath his fury. The corpses dissipated, replaced by the empty void once again, leaving the former Jedi to his thoughts.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Tuesday, 26 Jul 2011, 9:38 PM | Message # 2 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Children are little bastards.
His ears were always too big; he'd lost count of how many times they had poked fun at it - called him names, ostracized him. He'd told himself it only made him stronger, drove him; forced him to be ten times better than they were. But no matter how many times he'd smirked, brushed them off with a joke or completely ignored them completely; there were still times where the boy had hid in closets, head tucked in his knees, weeping. Weak, pathetic - ignoring all that made him what he was. And there were times that he'd fought back, and lost, but still wore a triumphant smile beneath the swelling of his bottom lip. They could say whatever they wanted to about him, save one thing - that he was afraid of them.
The alabaster walls of the large hallway glinted in the light of the rising sun; casting a warm glow on the bustling inhabitants of the temple. Students, adults, they all milled about as part of some never-ending dance, completely oblivious to the world beyond. The large-eared boy walked alone, lost in his thoughts, struggling to keep from stepping on his over-sized robe. He was a lanky teenager, then, all wiry frame and a tousled muss of jet-black hair; his sharp, penetrating amber eyes fixated on the floor as he maneuvered through the crowd. His entire life was ahead of him, or so it had seemed at the time. Had he known, perhaps, what lay in store for him... he'd have stayed in that damn closet and never come out.
He felt the sudden press of another body against his, the impact so forceful that he clean knocked the other person to their back. Stumbling over his words, he bent down to help collect the scattered datapads on the floor, his eyes catching the other student's for but a moment. They widened. The vision that stood before him, raven-haired and fair as the moon; she offered him a shy smile and mouthed some words. So focused was the boy on her eyes, however, that he'd failed to hear her at all. It wasn't until she brought a hand up to those accursed ears, snapping loudly, that he was drawn back into the real world.
"I said, are you okay?"
Struggling to find the right words, he bit back an apology and simply nodded. Surprisingly, the girl didn't seem to mind; in fact, she smiled, a wide grin that was more teeth than anything else. "You really should be careful," she began, rising to her feet and rearranging the contents she once again carried in thin arms. "Keep walking like that and you'll walk headfirst into a column, or something."
"Aha... right..." he finally mumbled, scratching his temple and praying to some god he didn't know that he didn't look as much of a fool as he assumed. "Sorry about that, it's a bad habit of mine."
"Well you know what they say about bad habits."
"... No? What do they say?"
To her credit, she simply giggled. "I don't know, I figured you would." She helped him to his feet, brushing the dust off his robes without so much as a pause. Who was this girl? "It's just a tip, anyhow, the next person you walk into might not be as nice about it."
This time he smiled. He wasn't sure what it was about this girl... but in the span of a few moments she'd completely disarmed him. Again she grinned, this one more wry in nature, almost playful. "What's your name?" The girl mused, brushing an ebon lock away from her forehead as she stared him down. Those eyes, so vivid.
"Karth. You?"
"Daneira. But... you can call me Dani, everyone does."
The sudden awakening hit him like a pile of bricks; or perhaps that was simply the after-effect of the dry bottle of whiskey he kept by his bedside. His head pounded with every bated breath. The dreams were becoming more vivid; scattered memories of a life he'd left behind long ago. Dani, that was all he knew about her; nothing else. Not her last name, nor where she was from. Not even her damned favorite color. Even worse, why did he keep dreaming about her?
One of his nerfs called out in the early morning light, it was feeding time. Whatever that dream was; however brief it had been, Karth made sure that he took note of it. Every vision, every fragmented memory of his past, no matter how small, was a treasure.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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