Nisahime

Within that faceless crowd, a participant that shouldn't be. Obscured and yet with more definition. Morrighan's eyes twist to look at another beside her, and it was as if peering at a silhouette. It showed how important they really were, to the owner of this nightmare. Back to the altar, with rays of light pooling in from seemingly nowhere. To put the woman on display, clearly not in control in the slightest. Fate had her trapped, as it did the others, outside the bounds of it. And yet, that spark she sought existed. Raising from the given chair, and moving toward the center aisle, passing thr

An entire mess of funny, aimed at ire or jest. But it was as close as one could get, taking a handful of putty and throwing it at a brick wall. Not even a reaction, just total silence as he was venting his frustration and confusion in the way he knew how. "Simple, Takeshi. I know what you are, I know who you are. Names given to different parts, but they are all the same box. Even when divided." Moving in a slow trail, as she spoke drawing a hand along a table as if inspecting it for dust. "Moreso, I can feel your concern. The one you wish to ignore. A copper rose, too close for comfort f

Step by step, the hell plane of blackened whispers. Dissonance reiterated here over and over, sourceless and yet very much real. Every scream, every bit of laughter, like thoughts made real. Occasionally, on the edge of peripheral, a semblance of movement can be detected. A long white dress, it was hard to make out movement and yet the trailing rings of white, rippling out as if a droplet in a puddle. "Fitting truth, in attire worn. Isn't it Takeshi, or is it Freyd?" The voice cuts through the shadow like a knife, piercing and powerful. Long black hair, as was expected within these vacuum

Her eyes flicker just a bit, acknowledging the audio from the child's voice. Sliding her hand free, as such an overbearing presence would only work to damage her in this state. "Good, then there is hope." Waving her hand along the top of this tomb, the coffin of stone. Her hand begins to glow, like sunlight but whiter. More pure. Racking Sam's noggin, the boy turns and smiles, but not in some sickly twist. "So easy to distort the truth, so fickle the heart to twist a memory." The girl would recall the look on that boy's face, one of happiness, in that instant as he lied in a pool of his own bl

A clasping hand around Sam's wrist, reaching out to drag her into the depths of despair. Within her grief, her guilt, she wasn't the slightest bit aware of another participant. Every step rings off the surrounding walls, this graveyard of old still trapped the girl within that past. Clutching that killed son, that boy that had produced valiance at such a ripe young age. A black gloved hand rips it away, and that corpse smiles, laughing harshly. A twist of her body, lips begin to move and yet Sam cannot hear a sound. The woman's eyes begin to burn, casting rays in a place of almost total d

"Morrighan, will suffice. Despite what this facsimile has given me to dissuade me from what must be done." Static burns bright above, racking against wood and setting some of it ablaze. "Correct, you are doing exactly what I intended you to. Hesitation will muddy that, and I will not tolerate such discord. Those that have chosen cowardice, fear, sorrow receive what they deserve. But cure yourself of allowing it to taint you, linger on it naught but relish it neither. The line between the two must be walked. Do what must, but do not savor it. Else you will become what shouldn't, you will become

House Name: World That Never Was Location: Floor 13 - Angel's Point? Description: A strange place, takes on the shape of a large open field of emerald green. Old devices for crafting of all types, for resting, litter the place in tired old segments from old dominions long forgotten. Locating it is difficult, nigh impossible if you don't know where to look. Walking away from the only major landmark: A single cherry blossom tree, finds that no matter how far you move, you never seem to get further than about 50 ft from it. Time holds no place here, weather does not change. A simple breeze, a

"I thought you were better than this, girl. I've been gone for all about two seconds, and here you are wallowing like a child." A flash of light rocks the sky, painting the entire place in clarity. Striking blonde hair, a twisted smile with the soft tapping of feet upon stone. "You know, that idiot fianceé of yours was up here to, stuck in a torment of his own making..." He laughs in a sinister bark before continuing, "Just...Like...You." Another stroke of lightning, punching a hole in the dirt and making it steam. Rain poured down in that same taste of Gemini, as Freya came face to face with

*Psh* Another step, as the stone begins to cool. Long strands of silver begin to bloom like a rose toward a sun, becoming weightless. The heat seemed to have no hold on her, and was simply reacting to her footfalls. Ripping a sliver of white to her side, it takes shape. A star turned rod, before it seers into the liquid and begins to carve. It begins to take shape and yet even still there was still so much to remove. A single long sliver of white, in the shape of a blade. It began to look like a person, somewhere trapped beneath all that magma. "Good, Titan. Then heed me and obey. That he

An immense weight that felt almost overbearing. The gravity here felt so oppressive, that even the slightest movement was tiring. Clattering heels rack against blackened glass, sand turned crystal. Amber glow matched with boiling blood, the very inferno raged on in the distance. A wasteland, a hearth. Ground bubbles, bleeding molten metal that conjoins into pools that do well to light up the space. Thick, heavy, taxing but still those footprints in the ash continue. The print had been left, and as the blaze went on, drowning all under its depths. It was here of all places, under the brimstone,

Releasing that pyre, and raising another arm to link with her other. Wrists connect, and they clench shut. Starlight shines as they begin to unfurl, eyes ablaze the same. Dust surrounds her and yet, an obvious cut at the space near her hands. Hair scattered and rushing along in a violent splay. Revealed a single vestige in her grasp, hanging betwixt her palms. A knife through that gale as it could not find purchase on the maiden in black. "Gale, that does deny you, a past that haunts you. Winds that scorn one's skin. Hidden I am not, but it seems as my voice can reach you even in this st

Light snap underfoot, running a hand along a spire of stone. One of man make, carved, not grown. Wind carries through the trees, dancing upon the mountain, and due to its height it was vigorous. It causes her hair to stir aggressively, being held aloft as dust screams by in a vapor. Animals in the distance bellow and boom, making known their territory and claiming what was owned. Foolish. The woman's hand begins to slide, listening for that boast that beckon of home. Eyes flash white and stick there, becoming silver lenses as they stare into that wind. Morrighan leans forward, punching a hole

Sound returned? It was so distant, but ever so faded. Her grin remains, as she twists her head off to the right, nestling it on her shoulder. Long white locks parade down, finding it's way closer to her shoulders. "Child of the waves, Daughter of the tide. My voice can reach you in this torment? Then there is still hope" Clasping hands toward her chest, a single glimmer that copies the shine in her eyes. They cup shut, before they begin to sprawl out. A single spark, a sliver of white floating in her grasp between hooked fingers. "Heed my call, fair child of the waves. I can sense your tr

Dive beneath the waves, hair aloft as it dances in strands that unweave. Silver lines that bloom in the dark, glowing like a lantern and cutting a way in the black expanse. Eyes in a gentle expression, focused with intention on a horizon in their submersion. Hands sway, playing in the current like strings in a web. Fingers tracing as if along a harp, twisting some unseen force. Adorning lips, a smile which held something so close to playful. Conducting and fiddling with that force, and beneath that wide expanse. She begins to speak, the words lost and muffled. "Such horrors, drowning within th

The sloshing of a deeper body of water, up to her waist in the black water that was cold even through a long black glove. Her hair begins to pool out, floating on the surface as she submerges into the muck. A pair of ivory eyes, lit up through the mess as it peered beneath that swamp. The creatures within seemed to pay her no mind, as if she didn't exist at all. Running an outstretched hand against the rough bottom, a current of sediment being rustled with a few fingers that scrape it. A small opal, from the bed. Raising to the surface, a single breath escaping her lungs but not out of duress.

The somber clacking of her heels, atop long black leggings where it was nigh impossible to tell where the boot ended and the pants began. Long white locks, drifting with every step in a cascade past the shoulder. A rumble of the storm that was so angry, drenching the birth of this bitter swamp in its blackness. But she seemed untouched by the staining wetness that fell from the heavens, some effect was keeping her dry when others were not so lucky. "Alas little herring, where have you found yourself now? Found you'll be, you cannot escape forever." That mysterious tongue, spoken for no one's b

A clatter of a cup being placed on the bar top. The woman leans forward and takes a whiff of what swill was inside. It was strong and bitter. "Interesting." Morrighan responds before downing the entire cup, making patrons that surround the place jerk. Eyes wide, she didn't seem to be bothered at all by the taste. "Wow, you can really put it down." The barkeeper remarks with a perplexed stare, eyeing the glass and sure as shit it was entirely empty. The maiden slides from the stool, a handful of silver coins left behind. She had yet to find what it was that she sought, coming up empty in this h

Such a simple thing, how plainly these droves just loitered about with no end goal in mind. A long and silver hair, virtually pure and unaffected by the elements, while others are drenched almost black. Rain beats bullets into a wooden roof overhead, and the woman could feel eyes on her back. It didn't bother her in the slightest, turning and folding her legs as she sat on a bar stool. The stare, as she peered into those that were looking first. There was something about that intensity that makes those that do avert their eyes, without not a single word spoken. A single keeper, to her suspecte

Bringing a handful of strange white colored flakes into a wave of blacks and oranges, a place a bustle with masks painted in all manner of horrors. A small child, darting back and forth through the sea of these people feigning creatures, like a needle through fabric. It catches the woman's curiosity, and she stops. Watching on as Kuni pick at the ground like a bird, another boy begins to speak to the silver haired maiden that stuck out like a sore thumb. A large tarp is deployed, one of darkened and thick leather. Presumably out of nowhere, as was customary of the game as a whole. "Kuni and On

"And that is where, dear mockingbird, we agree. But I have yet the tool of my design. Talent lies in those that are willing to ride the bleeding edge. I sense the same from you, and yet I know not if it has been seen. If left bare, alone and caged. Most would die like dogs, but you." That same coy and playful grin, although she found no humor in it, but a production to mirror emotion. "Would escape such a prison tooth and nail, blood and teeth without naught but the clothes upon your back. Kill with whatever tool you were given, and succeed." Her image distorts, and twists between two, an

A deflated expression and a notion that was disconnected, here were the simplest contrasts. A white haired maiden, almost glowing in the light of a day about to shift to night and a man stained pure black for what was coming. "What limits, pardon the ones that you set upon yourself? You are correct, messenger. My choice is to wait and see, to allow my own two hands and two eyes find it, be it as it may. Not thrust upon me, not bestowed upon me. I choose to allow no limits, and the unknown to become known, without settling for what 'is'. Else you do thy self a disservice, for in that acceptance

That same coy expression, unfazed by the notion, without even an attempt at concealing it. "What a simple shade to become, doubt leaves one's mind closed." she eyes Pete, still working to patch up some fishing pole that had been damaged. "Perchance, it will be. But I care naught of any chains, any given affairs. If I seek it, it will be of my own volition and not the decree of some falsehood or figment. I see no value in gains given." A handful of boar tusks still ripe in her palm, she ushers into the thoroughfare to the sound of a beating hammer. Casting the bones from the slain upon the top

"What an interesting play, my sir, you wound me." She ushers past as if that were meant as some joke, but the reflection on her face could easily leave anyone to take her seriously. A listful sway without any sense of urgency, as if going with some flow or tune that only she could hear. A multitude of screams and shouts, players a plenty grinding away to devices and desires that they wished to fulfill. A slightly waning sun hung on the horizon, burning bright over the large tanned stone that ringed the town of beginnings. A glance over her right shoulder, finding wherever Freyd's eyes wou

A somber and brisk walk, utterly unconcerned by the notion that whatever methods she had been doing would cease to function. It was almost alien, her lack of concern. There was a strange contrast between the two, where Freyd almost seemed consumed by the dark, the faint film of white light fades from the woman's shoulders. A strange enhancement, if one could call it that. "A build, effectiveness? My messenger do not mistake me for some soldier. I go wherever the fates wish me to go, such simplicity in it. I need not a direction, for it will be given unto me. Your concern is noted, if that is w

A soft tone spoken as the girl began to leave, destroyed by the sudden exhaustion. "Then the deed is done, such curiosity in how a spark will alter steps along that journey. Best not forget." her words echo, before a crash of light sees her exit. Through the dark forest of memories, twisting and bending through the winding walks. Seeing all manner of creature in the lines between, glancing upon some symbology that was not completely lost on her. To some it would bring fear, or disbelief. But locked upon the woman's face, mixed with a lax composure, was a simple and disarming smile. Sounds play