CyberChaosV2
Lord of Altera
;~;
Roy gonna be visiting later today, them feelz....
Roy gonna be visiting later today, them feelz....
Medieval & Fantasy Minecraft Roleplaying
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Inactive Nylarii Fuvur
- Thread starter Elz
- Start date
- Pronouns
- He/Him
GrapeFlavDragons
Evil
The Courier
Lord of Altera
- Pronouns
- She/Her, They/Them
Asirel_Luik
Sweetheart
*Clears throat*
Awwwwyis!
Awwwwyis!
I did a dream thing. c:
More a memory but I've made it over the top ye
it was so long ago but it was the grey ladys realm solus
-
Familiar. The place she finds herself in is familiar, as if shes got a sense of deja vu, and yet its foreboding and intimidating. If she's been here before it holds very little in terms of fond memories. It scares her, and she doesn't know why. She walks, and she's aware of the quiet crunching sounds when her feet move. As if she's walking on sand, of some sort, yet she doesn't bring her gaze down to look. She looks forwards, to her sides. She stops.
All around her are glimmering shards, and panes of crystal. Or glass? She's not sure. It's almost as if she stands in something that has shattered, yet the motion is on pause. The pieces don't fall, nor fly outwards, they simply stay in place with the smallest shifts that hint to them drifting.
A hand raises, to touch - But she pauses and does not. This is not somewhere she should be, this place is somewhere that she can't be seen in. Her chest is tight, the ominous presence comes from every direction yet none at all. It's just there. One touch to the glass and she's alerting it to someone being in it's web, and so she lowers her hand.
Purple hues, blending with grey, and eventually black. The shattered, fragmented pieces are between her and the abyssal darkness beyond them. Yet she's not alone here, and she's frightened to move. She can't move, not really, because the sounds of her feet on the ground below would be like touching the things in here. She can't do that, and her breath hitches. Her chest aches, and her heart pounds.
She finds herself turning, on the spot, and then she falls silent again. An altar is now before her, and it feels cold despite not touching it. The familiarity strikes her again. She has indeed seen this before. Engraved masterfully, a dark solid marble, it is a piece of esquisitve beauty yet it's presence is a heavy one. Webs, skulls, intricate patterns but she can't make out much more despite being close. She's being watched, as she watches the altar. She dare not look up, as if seeing it will secure her fate here, and again her chest aches. Her heart hammers in her chest.
She feels like in insect. Trapped somewhere she can't escape from, and the presence is just above her now. Yet she can't move. Can't bring herself to move her feet, and she wants to cry. Cry out for someone, cry in general, but no sounds escape her either. Rigid as she is, she hopes she's left alone, and her gaze focuses on some deep purple flowers she hadn't noticed before. Fear.
The presence gets closer. Heavier.
The flowers are all over. All some shade of purple, and though there's light from somewhere yet they seem to absorb it rather than give it out. It's dim. Suffocating. She's not sure if it's getting darker, now, shadows crawling down the panes. There is no altar, no flowers, there's just her and it. This thing. There is a desire to look up, confront it, get it over with, but she doesn't. She's afraid.
Moments pass. Then she takes a sharp, deep breath, like shes going underwater.
And she looks up.
More a memory but I've made it over the top ye
it was so long ago but it was the grey ladys realm solus
-
Familiar. The place she finds herself in is familiar, as if shes got a sense of deja vu, and yet its foreboding and intimidating. If she's been here before it holds very little in terms of fond memories. It scares her, and she doesn't know why. She walks, and she's aware of the quiet crunching sounds when her feet move. As if she's walking on sand, of some sort, yet she doesn't bring her gaze down to look. She looks forwards, to her sides. She stops.
All around her are glimmering shards, and panes of crystal. Or glass? She's not sure. It's almost as if she stands in something that has shattered, yet the motion is on pause. The pieces don't fall, nor fly outwards, they simply stay in place with the smallest shifts that hint to them drifting.
A hand raises, to touch - But she pauses and does not. This is not somewhere she should be, this place is somewhere that she can't be seen in. Her chest is tight, the ominous presence comes from every direction yet none at all. It's just there. One touch to the glass and she's alerting it to someone being in it's web, and so she lowers her hand.
Purple hues, blending with grey, and eventually black. The shattered, fragmented pieces are between her and the abyssal darkness beyond them. Yet she's not alone here, and she's frightened to move. She can't move, not really, because the sounds of her feet on the ground below would be like touching the things in here. She can't do that, and her breath hitches. Her chest aches, and her heart pounds.
She finds herself turning, on the spot, and then she falls silent again. An altar is now before her, and it feels cold despite not touching it. The familiarity strikes her again. She has indeed seen this before. Engraved masterfully, a dark solid marble, it is a piece of esquisitve beauty yet it's presence is a heavy one. Webs, skulls, intricate patterns but she can't make out much more despite being close. She's being watched, as she watches the altar. She dare not look up, as if seeing it will secure her fate here, and again her chest aches. Her heart hammers in her chest.
She feels like in insect. Trapped somewhere she can't escape from, and the presence is just above her now. Yet she can't move. Can't bring herself to move her feet, and she wants to cry. Cry out for someone, cry in general, but no sounds escape her either. Rigid as she is, she hopes she's left alone, and her gaze focuses on some deep purple flowers she hadn't noticed before. Fear.
The presence gets closer. Heavier.
The flowers are all over. All some shade of purple, and though there's light from somewhere yet they seem to absorb it rather than give it out. It's dim. Suffocating. She's not sure if it's getting darker, now, shadows crawling down the panes. There is no altar, no flowers, there's just her and it. This thing. There is a desire to look up, confront it, get it over with, but she doesn't. She's afraid.
Moments pass. Then she takes a sharp, deep breath, like shes going underwater.
And she looks up.
- Pronouns
- She/Her, They/Them
Asirel_Luik
Sweetheart
nwalme certainly does
CyberChaosV2
Lord of Altera
Roy seems to have been forgotten, guess he can be a good thief steals something then hides for a week or two before walking out when nobody knows him XD
I mean no harshness by this please dont hurt me....
I mean no harshness by this please dont hurt me....
