Amnèsie [Self RP]

Take your Serians here to chat or just roam their homeland.
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Joined: Sat Mar 12, 2005 1:00 pm

Location: USA

Post Sat Aug 13, 2005 11:00 pm

There was a sensation of walking through icy cobwebs, a cold that stuck to her skin and stabbed like freezing needles to her bones. Web heard Brittle gasp as he entered after her. She was…concerned for him. Magic was his worst enemy, possibly his greatest weakness.

The room was high and domed, bathed in that icy blue light, shimmering as if it were reflected through murky water. There were no windows, yet a white halo shone from the point of the peaked ceiling, illuminating a figure in the center of the room. A small girl, plucking idly at a crystal harp.

Brittle coughed slightly. She didn’t look at them, indeed, gave no sign she even knew they were there. Her limp white hair hung over her face, obscuring any view of it. Her emaciated form was clothed in a white slip, leaving her legs and arms indecently bare. Web could see her skin, so pale that she could make out the veins pumping under the near-translucent flesh.

Why are you here?

The voice echoed from the room, but seemed to focus from the girl (wraith? victim?) in the center. It was a rasping voice, neither male nor female, but like that of a child, something unborn, malicious and innocent at once. Brittle’s eyes narrowed and he shifted slightly, ready to fight in an instant. So, he couldn’t see the enemy, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t find a way to kill it…

Web shook her head slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. Don’t, we don’t know what we’re dealing with…

She stepped forward, toward the girl. She made no movement save the listless plucking of the silver strings. Her fingers were cut, torn from the piano wire stretched tautly across the delicate, crystalline frame. The strings shone a pretty ruby with blood, old and new. It was then that Web noticed the harp made no sound, and silence alive with a low, choir-like whisper surrounded them. The words were almost painful to listen to in this room.

We wish you no harm. We are here for the Arcanum, that is all.

Pluck, pluck, pluck and blood ran gracefully over the silver strings. The girl still did not look at them, but the voice echoed through the room.

The Arcanum? Book of dark secrets? It is my treasure to keep, mine, mine alone. I keep it, I will guard it!

Web bit her lip and stepped closer. Brittle echoed her movements, alert, angry. He’d be damned if a stupid talking room kept them from their objective.

But you have no use for it-“ Web started, slowly. The girl’s fingers stopped suddenly. Her hair echoed the movement of a hidden face.

The warrior by your side.

(Yes, I'm posting too fast, sorry ^^() I'm just on a streak right now :lol: )
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Post Sun Aug 14, 2005 11:45 am

Brittle started, narrowing his eyes. Mind games, all this magic nonsense. He was not going to be unsettled by it. He saw Web stiffen slightly, then move ever so subtly toward him. When she spoke, her voice was guarded, and dare he say it, possessive?

Yes? What of him?

The hair swayed ever so slightly as the girl moved her head a fraction more, revealing a brief slight of ghost white, sallow skin.

Would you give him for the book? A treasure for a treasure

Brittle snorted. This was turning into a bad horror movie. He edged closer to Web, holding his head high. “Im not going anywhere, and I am definitely going to be used as a bargaining chip for a book.

Web admired and cursed the stallion’s arrogance. She smiled slightly, closing her eyes. “Well, then, I suppose that would be a no.

The girl jerked suddenly, like a corpse reanimated. She rose stiffly to her feet and turned toward them, head bowed and veiled by her limp colorless strands. The voice rose to a crescendo around them, the whispers strengthening to some sort of scream. Web stepped back. The enchantment was rising in its power…

I am the Amnèsie, the castle of memories! You are in my walls, in my power, in my law!

Brittle glanced around the room. He could destroy that girl in an instant, but this voice, was the castle itself, which meant…

The girl raised her head, still covered by her hair, but it swayed slightly, stirred by a cold, unseen wind. Pale pockets of flesh crusted deep red danced beneath the swaying locks.

Your memories are mine, I see them, I use them!

Web gasped. Memories, her memories to be played like a pawn in this castle…

A pale face turned up to the moonlight, those pretty red eyes that she had buried long long ago, no, no! Blood over a mercury-mooned sky…

Stop it!

She shut her eyes and turned away sharply, gasping. Brittle pushed against her, staring at the puppet girl in defiance, in fierce fury. “Leave her!

The girl jerked closer, then stopped, head lopping to one side. “It is not her, hers are not the ones we want They are but of little power here, she cannot be broken. You warrior, your memories

Web felt him stiffen beside her, a sharp rigidity only caused by fear. She looked at him, seeing an expression of shock on his face. The puppets head lolled wildly on her neck, showing more of her blood-caked cheeks and a purplish lips sown tightly together.

You cant remember can you?! Theyre buried so deeply, but youve had the key all along! Searching and searching, round and round the carousel, but you could see the whole time, but it scared you! And now youll remember why you were so frightened, so ashamed!

Brittle staggered back, eyes wide, blank. The girl’s head jerked upward as the walls began to laugh around them, joined by that screaming banshee wind. The hair fell from her face, revealing a grinning skull visage with hollow sockets, tears of blood now long dried on the sunken cheeks.

Now I shall grow from your memories, feed on your soul until there is nothing, nothing!! Youll fall into the madness of your own mind, your own past, and there is nothing you can do!!

SHUT UP!!” Web screamed at the room, at the puppet girl swaying like a broken marionette. Brittle had fallen to his knees, eyes still frozen, as the room started to crumble around them. Cracks shattered the ceiling and webbed from the harp, breaking the very reality around them.

Web collapsed in front of Brittle as floor deteriorated around them. She searched in his eyes for something there, something other than the fear, that arrogant, chauvinistic, fierce fire that she had seen in him. Her voice was broken when she spoke, almost sobbing, almost hysterical.

Brittle! Brittle come on, you have to stop it, we have to get out you idiot stallion!! Brittle!!! BRITTLE!! Dont-!

An invisible hand knocked her away from him, over the jagged ground and into the darkness below. The last thing she saw was him falling as the floor finally gave way, and then, nothing but the darkness.

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Post Sun Aug 21, 2005 1:21 pm


Hair as dark as hers, splayed over a silver pool. Those beautiful eyes, the ones that caught you, the ones that tamed you. Scarlet like heart-blood, like fire and ruby and wine and dried roses and, so many things you could name and you still wouldn’t find that color anywhere in the world…

Oh gods, I still miss him…my koishii, my beloved…

Why can’t I remember your face?

Why can’t I remember your name…?

Her eyes snapped open. “Stop it!!

Her voice froze in the air. The dream memories vanished into her smoke. The castle, she was still in the castle. It was trying to break her…

Web blinked a few times, adjusting her eyes to the darkness. Her vision was, awkward. She couldn’t see as well as she used to…what…?

She raised her hand to her face. A human hand, on a slender human arm, lily-white in the darkness. She sat up with a start, nearly losing her balance, struggling in the new form. Just, just what the hell was going on?!

It took her a few tries to stand, then to walk with this silly two-legged balance. It didn’t help that the mass of black fabric was cluttered about her legs. After what seemed an eternity, she was able to walk in a semblance of normality, mimicking her mistress’s graceful, silent step.

It seemed she had fallen into another hall, dark, obviously. Crooked mirrors glimmered at random intervals. She topped before one, assessing her new form.

A young girl stood before her, pale, beautiful, with skin faintly marked with a crisscross of scars. Long, raven-jet hair cascaded down her back, burned with a dark red edge starting over her left eye. She was clothed in a light gown of black silk and light leather, like something one might wear to a ball, or a funeral. Black ribbon wrapped in haphazard elegance about her neck, and held scraps of lace about her forearms. A small veil of web-like lace hung over her left eye.

Her eyes, that was the only thing that remained of her. The ruby-blooded orbs gazed back at her from this stranger in glass.

I bet you would like to know whats going on.

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