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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 19, 2018 12:45:38 GMT -6
Viktoria regarded her companion for a while, the grey face unreadable. But then, a warmth in her eyes, the corners crinkling just slightly. Whether he meant it truthfully, or was just hiding the true extent of his condition so he could continue to help her, Viktoria did not know. But either way, she thought fondly of him in that moment. If she could articulate quite how much it meant to her, she would have done, but instead the scarred feline gave her friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and his form seemed to glow that little bit brighter. The shimmering version of him held its shape just a touch more strongly.
As the moment passed, Viktoria's thoughts turned back to the task at hand, knowing time was of the essence. The ridges above her eyes creased together, the top of her muzzle wrinkling just a touch, her features shifting in that subtle way they did when she was thinking on a problem not easily solved. Then, with a snort through her nostrils, the hybrid humanoid gestured to Sarkany, indicating he should follow. "Zink I am knowing vherrre to go." She began to walk away from her own recollection, down a nearby hill that seemed to stetch on forever, no matter how far the pair walked. Down, down she and Sarkany travelled, until the moon and sky disappeared above them, the breeze fading from around their faces. Still Viktoria did not stop, her shoulders set, hands curling into fists as she walked. Whatever they were headed towards clearly bothered the scarred feline immensely.
A shimmer appeared, perhaps only two feet ahead. Light passing across a reflective surface. Viktoria drew to a halt with her face near pressed against the glass-like object and would only be when Sarkany also came that close that he would be able to see what was on the other side. That white-walled room again. Splattered in blood. Viktoria's battered, red-stained body lay stretched out across the floor, twitching every so often. Yet her head lay upon the lap of a child, the same child that had wracked her with such agony when they touched her previously. Now those hands ran almost lovingly across her head, stroking her ears. Soothing. With each movement of their lips a new golden thread, adding to writhing tendrils piercing into the feline's head.
"I did not make zis." There was no surprise to her tone, no trace that Viktoria had not been expecting this outcome. She stared through the barrier, watching herself as the child continued to stroke her head, unknown words spilling from lips she could see moving. When her memory's body twitched again the feline's lip curled, her muzzle pulling back in a snarl, uncovering fangs that wanted nothing more than to tear apart those who had set her upon her own companions. "I do not know hyow to brrreak." Her voice again, deadpan and analytical despite her expression. "But hyave feeling..." One claw pointed in the direction of her trapped memory. "Zhat iz sourrrce. Vhy else vould prrrotect?"
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Post by MP on Sept 19, 2018 16:36:09 GMT -6
Sarkany stepped up beside the feline, tipping his head at the barrier. Unlike Viktoria, he seemed not to see the scene beyond. There was a fixed quality to his stare, a certain set to his jaw that suggested he made an effort not to. The wall was the current problem. The wall was the focus.
He made a thorough examination of it, feeling along the surface with the back of the dead hand, testing the give of it with his shoulder. It was hard without his right hand, and at length he leaned in closer, angling his head this way and that to gauge the play of light.
“Oh!” Sarkany drew back with surprise. “Oh.” He began to laugh - a pleased, genuine sound. His glow flickered and strobed, seeming to echo the sound as he turned to Viktoria.
“It’s glass,” he told her, still chuckling. “Just ordinary glass. Thicker than usual, but still. I think they’re getting desperate.”
He gave the barrier a good-natured kick, and the thunk it emitted had a dull, recognizable quality, like a bird against the window.
It was all another lie, of course - a trick of expectation. For all his acting, Sarkany hadn’t the slightest idea what it really was. That was fine. What mattered was that Viktoria didn’t know either. And that made it as blank a slate as any Walker could hope for, whatever it tried to be.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 20, 2018 7:35:38 GMT -6
Viktoria looked at Sarkany, the glass, then back to Sarkany again as he laughed and rapped the hard, transparent surface. Her gaze slid sideways to the 'glass', the muscles of her jaw tensing and relaxing as she considered it. A recollection emerged, portrayed somewhere in the darkness as an explosion of shattering glass and splintering wood. An exhausted, desperate, yet triumphant male laughter that devolved into animal screams - any trace of humanity stripped and destroyed. The acrid scent of fear. Of fire and burnt flesh.
Please don't- I don’t - I don’t know. Please -
Viktoria's nostrils flared. Her mind may not have been her own, but she had still just been following orders. An unfeeling machine. Just like they wanted.
Hatred coiled and snapped vicious jaws within her chest. Searing heat flowed through her veins, carved a deadly, furious trail through her body. Black eyes, with only the smallest trace of green in a ring around the edges, landed upon the child still silently speaking on the other side. Each golden tendril an instruction, a binding prison, the machinations by which a scarred humanoid body had been used to torture and mutilate her own companions.
Viktoria's fist collided with the barrier so hard, all the nothingness around herself and Sarkany reverberated with earthquake-like tremors. Every muscle bulged, the blended shark and feline features were contorted into savagery by a ferocious, blinding rage that pulsed and flared a striking red beneath the pair's feet. All traces of her fatigue were forgotten, lost to the cascade of terrifying fury. A crack appeared beneath scarred knuckles. The child stopped speaking. Another blow, accompanied by a snarl this time. The crack widened and the child lifted their head. Hazel eyes met with black and the hostility inside Viktoria's chest ruptured and spread to a blazing inferno that could not be contained. Her maw tore open in an echoing roar, before her fist came down on the barrier again. It dented, fractured, tried to hold its shape. Then, in an ever-expanding deluge of cracks that spread out from the point of impact, the barrier collapsed.
A scream filled the space not a moment afterwards, the child's mouth split unnaturally wide. Swarms of tendrils, crackling with a golden glow, flowed forth. They twitched and spasmed, before surging towards Sarkany and Viktoria as a coordinated horde.
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Post by MP on Sept 20, 2018 9:42:57 GMT -6
Sarkany tensed as the mass rushed toward them, eyes flickering between the feline and the twisted shape of the child. Viktoria was ahead of him by several strides. Her break-in had moved her forward, and he thought he was clear of her peripherals.
He retreated another step for good measure, mind racing through possible phrasings. What might she use? What would she need? He’d seen from her memories that Viktoria used..unconventional weaponry. Something nonspecific, then. He opened his mouth to call out, already framing the words.
What emerged instead was a muffled sound, animal and involuntary as the air turned to fire around him. Burning on his skin, in his lungs. The force of the child-thing crashed over him like a red wave. Sarkany arched mid-breath, teeth clipping together as his muscles seized. He was down on the ground, braced on one knee as he only just stopped himself falling on his injured side. The seraph was still lucid; his eyes blazed fierce defiance as he fought to gain control of himself. But the moment of weakness meant that no help for the feline was coming.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 20, 2018 12:46:23 GMT -6
Scarely a trace of emerald remained in Viktoria's eyes as she powered on through the shattered barrier and into the space beyond. Her anger followed, swirling around her feet and licking red-black flames upwards as though trying to burn the very air. She faced the charging horde without a trace of fear or delay but, perhaps more worryingly, also without apparent consideration of the threat or what tactics to best take it on. It was only a sound behind her, familiar though there were no words, that gave the scarred feline reason to pause. One ear flicked backwards, her head turning just enough to gauge whether another foe had managed to get behind her.
What Viktoria saw, however, was Sarkany. Down on the ground.
Colour returned to her eyes and the snarl dropped from her muzzle as clarity dawned, the fires around her not... dulling, so much as being forced back behind the humanoid's own restraints. Her gaze spun back to the child just in time to leap backwards from the tendrils. She remembered now, how her split self had been threaded with these same monstrosities. The feline had no way to tell if she could fight them off with just her physical strength and claws, nor what they might do to her if they touched her. All the effort put in to get them this far, could have nearly been undone. Not only that, she realised with a chill down her back, more of the tendrils swarmed towards her friend's fallen form. They seemed to chatter with an almost excitement the closer they drew to him; not that they got a chance to touch him, because Viktoria was sprinting back now, long strides outpacing the horde and one hand snatching hold of her friend's form. She retreated with him a ways, but did not want to risk travelling too far and allowing the barrier to reform.
"Apologies." A quick word, but all the feline thought she could spare as she stopped, released Sarkany and turned back to her parasitic intruder. The child had stopped screaming. Instead, it stared at the pair and, if she didn't know better, the feline would have said she thought that small person was panting. She also realised now, with distance and clearer thinking, that the golden threads has slowed. They seemed to recoil and writhe, becoming more and more agitated the further they travelled from the child. Blackened edges traced along those nearest and the storm of her own contained rage swirled up to greet them. With apparently a few moments of breathing room, Viktoria patted her friend gently on the shoulder, "You arrre hurrt?" She didn't know what was wrong with him, how she could help, if she even could. There was also still the matter of the issue at hand, to which the scarred muzzle faced for a half second, before voicing her thoughts. "Iz strrrange..." she murmured to the seraph, "Child iz, not... powerrrful, as I am rrrememberrr frrom zhat day." She looked down at her own body, recalled the touch of tiny hands upon her face. "Iz perrhyaps because, ah... iz not physical touching me?"
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Post by MP on Sept 20, 2018 13:54:51 GMT -6
Sarkany lay shivering where the feline had set him down. He was very pale, even by the standards of his altered form. His glow flickered in time to his breathing, a mirror to Viktoria’s fire. But he was still fighting to master himself, was still aware of the feline, and he rolled onto his good side at her question, acknowledging her.
“Hurts,” he muttered shortly. “Being here. Not-” Another suppressed shiver as his lungs burned. “Not built for it.”
It was all the explanation he could afford. The seraph lay back, sucking in measured breaths. You could fight through pain with enough effort. But skies, it was bad this close to the child-thing. It was strong - but not in the way Viktoria supposed. He smiled at her observations.
“Hah.” The sound was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Not a kid. Not physical. Just your imp - impression. Of that control. And you’ve already...”
He had to stop there. Had to recenter. Sarkany turned his face into the grass, teeth gritting, and focused on forcing back the tremors.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 20, 2018 15:15:24 GMT -6
Large, unblinking eyes looked down at Sarkany as he struggled. There was no pity in her gaze. No judgement or irritation at his condition. She watched and she listened, not understanding quite what he meant by 'not built for it', but grasping enough to be filled with gratitude that he continued to remain with her. Viktoria's head swivelled to watch the child, the writhing mass it had created. The pulsing, sharpened tendrils that she knew were winding their way out into her mind, penetrating every crevice they could find. Her impression. If that was the case... this was her mind and being dictated to made stubborn resentment coil in the feline's gut. Not only that, the longer she spent being confined, attacked and puppeteered, the longer her companion remained here, suffering in attempts to help her. If they didn't finish this, now, who was to say she would not fall again, be instructed to attack former friends? Where Sarkany's face lay against the grass, again that warm pressure bumping against his forehead, the deep purring of some unseen cat. A slight pat of his upper back. Then the feline stood. An inhalation, slow exhalation.
She was done being controlled.
One foot in front of the other, a juxtaposed humanoid figure strode forward; both the cold stoicism and the raging fire. Tendrils snapped at her, clambered to reach her head. But with a small growl, a slash of her claws and a roar of the flames threatening to engulf her, each fell. They twitched, curled in on themselves, blackened or severed and promptly disintegrated to ash. The child, or at least the approximation of it, began to shriek. No further strands gushed forth from the open mouth; instead, it back-peddled frantically to the far end of the white room it had been residing in, abandoning the visage of Viktoria to the floor. The imposing, near blazing scarred feline continued forward, unrelenting, her gaze set on that retreating figure.
But then, the crying of a young girl. Splashes of tears, the reflection of a terrified face on the blade of a bloodied knife. A knife now grasped within Viktoria's hand. It was here, so close, that she faltered, looked down at the blade and pinned her ears back. Whimpers, the sound of an injured, terrified animal. It wasn't the same as that time. This wasn't a defenceless innocent, it wasn't even physical. She knew that; yet still hesitation rose like bile, stilled her muscles, dimmed the fire. Those of the golden horde that still remained began to track and glide in her direction, pressing their advantage.
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Post by MP on Sept 20, 2018 22:39:39 GMT -6
They seemed frozen together in time: the feline and the child, the knife and the threads. A single hanging moment. The blade glowed sickly. The threads whispered. The stalemate started to slide. First one golden feeler. Then others stirring. Then they began to close in as one.
But as the tendrils crept forward, probing towards the guttering wall of flames, a new light rose to meet them. Fainter than the first, almost gentle compared to the harsh red glare, it carried a distant trace of comforting kitchen scents and fresh mountain air. They grew together, the blaze and the candlelight, until it was all one constant glow. There was a figure coming through the flames. Dragging, limping, finally striding forward, it moved for the child at a slow but steady pace.
Sarkany passed Viktoria's shoulder and stopped before the tendrils. He stood between them, one-armed and ashen, watching the child shape. Compared to its insidious strength, his figure was small and fragile. As rooted as a stone.
As the golden threads extended, he reached out a hand to meet them. The dead fingers curled in on themselves, a pitiful barrier. The word was smaller still. But all the room seemed to fall quiet before the single, tired syllable:
"Lus."
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 21, 2018 4:21:05 GMT -6
Amongst the haunting visions rising to greet her came gentle suggestions, promises, reminders. Whispered. Incessant. Layered over one another, piercing her defenses even as the stubborn anger and rebellion continued to thrum in her veins. Why fight it? Nothing but a tool It's what you were made for, denying it you'll never be like them only hurts you. Wasn't it easier didn't it feel good? when someone else made the decisions? You're lying to yourself, lying to everyone, dangerous monster by pretending to care, pretending to feel. You're only copying, replicating what you've read, infilitration was always a good skill but it's not real. Just let go.
The new warmth, friendly and pleasant to contrast the destructive nature of her own liquid fire, initially went mostly unnoticed by the feline. It was a presence against the edge of her awareness, present but disconnected. Only when Sarkany moved in front of her did she notice his nearness. But she said nothing, made no move. When the threads recoiled at her companion's command, Viktoria's head tipped down to look at him. That figure now so fragile it seemed she could just enclose her hands around him and he would extinguish. Crumble like dust.
Her arm rose, the blade glinted - a cruel, dangerous flash of light. When the scarred limb descended, all trace of her conflicted, tumultuous series of emotions had been stripped from her features. She was blank once again; muzzle smooth and eyes steadfast.
There was a dull thunk as the knife sank right up to the hilt, carving through flesh, skull and brain in one smooth, fluid motion. The tip of the blade had travelled far enough to embed in the wall beyond, leaving the child stuck to the tiles. An open-mouthed insect to the board. There was a gurgle, a hiss, before the parastic manifestation began to spasm violently. It's mouth gulped like a dying fish, soundless, while melting fingers clawing desperately at the blade handle protruding from it's head. The thorns trembled and shook, before convulsing and collapsing in on themselves as a moaning, dying beast. Viktoria fell to one knee, a breathless grunt escaping her lips as pain erupted behind her eyes and lanced down her spine. She hadn't been prepared for it, could never have anticipated the feeling of clawed fingers dragging steadily out of her head.
The world pitched sideways, rolled, churned. Viktoria could do nothing to stop it, paralysed by the pounding in her skull, the agony that seemed ready to split her head in two. She was falling, tumbling, unable to determine up from down - and she'd lost him, lost Sarkany. Still that slow, excruciating scrape through her head continued; until, with a wet shlick and a pop like extrication from flesh, the pain receeded. Replaced by a dull throb. Manageable. Still she was falling, her world a scrambling, uncoordinated maelstrom as it tried to right itself from the mental invasion she had endured. Her back hit solid ground, she finally stopped spinning.
Then, the scents of a familiar abode, the gentle sound of sleeping breaths. An occassional flutter from a turning page. Viktoria sat up, one hand pressed to her forehead, only a single eye open. She felt hungover, pulsing red tinged the edges of her vision, but a constricting weight had released from her chest. It was like breathing for the first time. "Sarrrkany?" She called out to the memory, trying to roll onto her knees so she could stand. The feline was unable to focus, but needed to see if he was alright. Her friend had looked so small, so insubstantial, when last she had seen him and that worried her immensely.
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Post by MP on Sept 21, 2018 6:04:25 GMT -6
The name rebounded in the little space, claustrophobic and fading. Pages continued to rustle nearby, the breathing keeping gentle time beneath it all. Peaceful. Untroubled.
There was no answer. No seraph. The feline was alone in the place save for the sleeping memory and the echo of herself.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 21, 2018 6:21:27 GMT -6
Her voice echoed, none returned.
The feline's ears flickered atop her head, listening for a sound as much as she was seeking out the presence of him in her mindspace. "Sarrkany?" Again the question. A little louder, a little stronger, as her hand fell away from her face and Viktoria forced herself to her feet. He was stretched out on the sofa, an arm draped over his face as she tried to read without disturbing his sleeping form. But that wasn't the right Sarkany, not the one she was looking for. Just a memory.
Yet... Viktoria could feel... something. Another, still inhabiting the confines of her self. It didn't prickle or rumble with threat, nor did it feel invasive and manipulative. The seraph, she would assume. But as she took a step forward, intending to move memories, the scarred feline found she near pitched forward, wanting to black out and sleep. She huffed, shook her head, drove away the dark edges beginning to spill into the memory. Rest would come later.
Another step as she reached out with a hand to a wisp in the air. Like a thread of conversation given life and form. She was having trouble pinpointing Sarkany through the haze and remaining headache, but determined to push on and search for him anyway.
Her fingertips brushed the strand.
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Post by MP on Sept 23, 2018 2:11:10 GMT -6
Half images flickered at Viktoria's fingertips, sound and sensation. The splap of a sandwich bouncing across the floor. A startled exclamation, more disappointed than annoyed. The retaliatory nip of teeth at the feline's ears and skull. But the real Sarkany wasn't in these scraps of memory. The storm and the dark held no sign of him. It was only when the feline returned to the earlier landscape, the endlessly sloping hill, that she found him again. He hadn't moved far.
The figure was more vapor than a recognizable human shape - nearly diffuse. But it stood upright, and the spasms and fits of weakness had gone along with the child. He turned at her approach, the glow shining through him like sun through the clouds. Sarkany stared an extra moment before he seemed to see her, but he was steady enough on his feet. He strode toward her.
"Lost you at the end. Too much turbulence." His voice, though slightly distorted, sounded pleased with what he saw. "For a minute there I thought you'd gone back to the dark."
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 24, 2018 4:02:58 GMT -6
To those who knew how to read her stoical face, the relief when Viktoria found Sarkany again was plain to see; in the set of her ears, the slight softening of her eyes at the corners, a closing of her eyes just slightly longer than a blink, with a sigh of breath just that little bit harder than the others. At his words, the mention of her potential return to the dark - which she assumed he meant the child's control and the group who utilised it - Viktoria lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Nyet. Hyow else vill you be staying, ah, alerrrt forr sandvich stealerrrs? If not I am hyitting frrrom hands?" A small baring of teeth, an amused chuckle and then Viktoria looked up and around herself as though she anticipated the threads return. Or at least was alert for the posibility.
"Iz overrr?" She asked, returning emerald eyes to look at her friend's shining form.
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Post by MP on Sept 24, 2018 11:36:05 GMT -6
The figure chuckled at that, blurring and flickering as it did so. At times a ripple seemed to pass through the length of it, wisps of substance breaking and dispersing like sea surf.
“I’ve no idea,” it said in its distorted voice, vapor rising in the impression of a shrug. “If we’re honest, I’ve never done this before.”
The figure seemed to stare around the slope. It was hard to tell with most of its features gone. Funny. Sarkany supposed he must look a lot like Her now.
“How do you feel?”
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 25, 2018 7:14:53 GMT -6
Considering the question, Viktoria tilted her head up towards where the sky would be, rubbing the back of her head with one hand. "Iz... ah, harrrd. To say. Differrrent? Ah, iz lyike..." She lowered her muzzle again, looking slightly downwards and framed an invisible sphere with both hands. "Beforrre zherre iz, ah, forrrce? Prrressurre?" She squeezed her hands together, though with a small gap between her fingers as though there were something physical she was crushing between her palms. "Vhen I am told vhat to do. See no rrreason to fight it, orr hurrrt vhen do, but... if I am to listen, follow instrrruction, iz best feeling. Like whole body strrrong and alive. But, rrrestrrictive, false, lead me to do zings I am not vant. I do not like zis."
Her hands expanded, but the very tips of her fingers still touched. "Now, iz... less. I am feeling, lighterr, morrre frree. Can, ah, be making of morrre choice, I zink. But..." Her hands flexed, one finger curled inwards, a claw extended as though to pierce this invisible sphere she had been holding the whole time. "Still iz... somezing. Desirre to follow orrrderrs of, ah, cerrrtain people. Hyas alvays been. But, less now. Easierrr to manage." Again, the hand went to the back of her head, rubbing the skin there as the scarred feline glanced away.
"I am not explain vell."
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