Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post Reply
User avatar
Fang
Fang
Posts: 133
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 4:22 pm
Contact:

Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post by Fang » Thu Nov 01, 2018 5:01 am

The night was deep and still, the city streets buzzing with the glow of street lamps and what few vestiges of human consciousness remained. The bells of an old church rang discordantly and in the graveyard something stirred. The ground shook and groaned, the headstones shaking in their seats as dust billowed upward from the sudden split that ran the length of the graveyard grounds. A deep, heavy growl filled the air and the smell of mildew and dust filled the city streets. Several thundering booms echoed through the town, footsteps from below that increased in volume until finally a pale white hand emerged from the rift.

Slowly a man pulled himself up, his movements slow and laboured as his echoing footsteps receded. His mouth has been sewn shut, his body frail and fragile l. Skin like paper tore against rough stone only to seal itself again as the corpse of a man shuffled through the remains of the graveyard.

Light

A rock underfoot sent the man sprawling, but still he moved forward, inching toward the nearest street lamp. As he drew closer the buzz grew higher in pitch, matching the intensifying light the bulb emitted. The man reached a withered hand toward the light, his eyes squinted against its luminance.

With a snap the bulb burst and glittering glass fell to the asphalt below. Shards of light, inexplicably still intact despite the destruction of their source, fell upon the labouring man and surrounded him, filling his pores, absorbing into him as he wearily stood. Muscle filled his frame, his spine straightened and his time-bleached hair regained a healthy luster. With his right hand he ripped the stitches from his mouth, blood splattering the ground in front of him before the skin and sinew reconnected and smoothed, erasing the damage. With a sight the man stretched, flexing his newly formed muscles appreciatively.

“Time to feed,” the pale man said, testing his voice. The ground rumbled in response to his words, and with a whisper of cloth he disappeared into the shadows.



~~~~~~~

Three hours later the city square was flush with activity. Police cars blocked the incoming traffic as firemen and spare officers shuffled pedestrians away from the area. Along the barricades the police had set news crews filmed the action in the center, a standoff between an extremely pale man and several officers.

“Reports are coming in that this show of police force is in response to one man who, strangely, claims that the park and its surrounding area belongs to his family.”

The pale man stood in the center of the kerfuffle and looked to his new and unfamiliar world with disdain. Demon carriages with no horses to drive them, illusions on every corner, bits of metal, glass and some strange material the man could not identify in every hand of the people who had passed him by. Worst of all... Worst of all his castle was gone, the land around it clear of the rolling hills and fields of sunflowers he had so carefully nurtured.

“What hell have I woke to?” the man said in a deep voice touched by an exotic accent too faint to identify.

User avatar
Annasiel
Administrator
Posts: 4872
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 6:40 am
Gender: Female
Location: Somewhere grey and full of ghosts.
Contact:

Re: Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post by Annasiel » Wed Nov 07, 2018 8:33 am

Aisling had a nose for drama.

Well, that was a bit of an overstatement. Drama, unfortunately, was not among her litany of senses far superior than the silly little mortals', nor was it among the spectrum of supernatural bullshittery she could intuit. Auras, certainly. Magic? Most definitely. But drama, drama took far more than passive sensation to trace in the noise of life. Aisling's nose for drama was a matter of one part instinct, and two parts experience-sharpened skill.

"Hey, you alright?"

The fae's electric green eyes turned quickly to the boy beside her, sharp enough a glare to make him flinch. His name was... Simon? No, Drew. Drew was right. Simon had been her conquest a month prior, and had managed to last an impressive three weeks before he finally began to fall apart. In that stretch of time, he'd churned out enough poems to fill five anthologies, all of which sat on neat little stacks in her closet with all the other pointless tokens of affection. It wasn't the gift that counted, but the thought. Literally the thought.

Human creativity was delicious.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Aisling replied. The boy was an aspiring sculptor. Interesting, but... gah, the commotion going on a few streets over gnawed at her like a hoard of hungry mice. Drew was only interesting. The pressing drama was tantalizing. The fae frowned, booping the boy on the nose. He looked surprised, but consented.

"You wait right here, honeybuns," she told him. Again, surprise, but a nod of assent. He wasn't quite eating out of her hand, yet, but she'd fix that eventually. "I'll be back in a jiffy. Need to go check on something, 'kay?"

He frowned.

"I can come with you, if you l-" the boy began, but she pressed her finger to his lips.

"Hush, sweetpie. I'll come back. I promise." With a wink, Aisling slipped off the boy's arm and vanished. A hop and a skip later, and she was pushing her way to the front of the crowd. A few young boys and girls even stepped aside for her, bless their souls, no doubt enraptured by her unparalleled grace and beauty. She did that, sometimes. Poor kids, soon to be heartbroken by a woman they didn't even know the name of. Coldly, she ignored a few stammered greetings and outstretched hands, instead trying to find a break in the people to see what was causing the commotion. Police! A good few of them too, standing around a strange, pale man who shone with a much brighter light than the blue-clad mortals.

Finding out how this unfolds, or going back to a night of awkward virgin sex with Mister Clayhands?

Mister Clayhands could wait. This demanded her complete curiosity.
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

User avatar
Fang
Fang
Posts: 133
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 4:22 pm
Contact:

Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post by Fang » Fri Nov 09, 2018 8:04 am

A wave of nausea poured over the once-corpse as he looked at the humans around him, particularly at the dozens of stiff, half frozen bodies that lines the park behind him. The pavement was lined with frost, trees losing their leaves rapidly and the grass dead and broken with ice upon their edges.

“I should never have been wakened.” The man’s eyes were filled with sadness, and though he was incapable of shedding tears he felt as if they were pouring from his eyes. “I am Finian Dubhain,” he called out, stepping toward the police officers with his hands held out in a placating gesture. His clothes were rags, miracle bits of ancient cloth that had somehow survived his long slumber to cover the most important parts with some modesty. Where he stepped the grass died, and behind him his trail became clear, each step, each place he lingered.

“I am a descendent if those who once walked these lands. I wish to parley with your Magistrate and explain this situation fully.” His golden eyes seemed to flare with inner light, and a few of the police officers began to lower their weapons, but as they took a step toward him Finian lowered his gaze and clenched his fists “YOU MUST NOT COME NEAR ME!” He yelled violently, the grass around him freezing solid. “Just, arrange this parlay and have a bird sent to me,” he said more gently.

The humans hated him, and with every right to. He had hoped to wake in a world that had forgotten about him. He had arranged to be far away from human population, to avoid this happening, to avoid reminding them. Why was he awake now?

User avatar
Annasiel
Administrator
Posts: 4872
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 6:40 am
Gender: Female
Location: Somewhere grey and full of ghosts.
Contact:

Re: Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post by Annasiel » Fri Nov 09, 2018 6:54 pm

The fae girl laughed, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. Nearby bystanders glanced her way, confusion and concern obvious on their faces, but she paid them no mind. They didn't matter. All that mattered was the funny pale man with the icy touch, speaking in ways that dated him almost as harsh as his dress. Well, what was left of his dress, anyway.

"Hello! Bird here, I'm the bird!" Aisling called out, pushing past the gathered to join the empty circle of contention. A couple of the cops raised their guns her way, then hesitated. She smiled and waved. The guns didn't lower.

"You need to get back, miss," one of the blue boys warned. His eyes shifted to the nearby crowd. "You all need to get back. This is serious."

Hard luck trying to convince them of that. Mortals tended to throw logic out the window at the first sign of magic, either chalking it up to their own mental shortcomings, or to some elaborate art demonstration. Aisling suspected the latter, in this case. People didn't just make ice! There had to be clever contraptions, practical effects, perfectly rigged and timed to give other urban flash mobs a run for their money. It would have been hilarious if it didn't make escaping with her new quandary all the more difficult.

Oh, who was she kidding. It was still hilarious.

"Are you sure it's serious?" She replied with a wink, taking a step towards the officer who'd spoken. His eyes snapped back to her in an instant, and his arms twitched, finger momentarily sliding to the trigger. She took another step forward.

"I said get back," he warned, but made no motion to move.

"I think everybody needs to take a deep breath and relax," Aisling said, voice barely above a whisper. The gun lowered. "Fighting won't get us anywhere, right? We're all stressed, all scared, and fights'll just make that worse. Much better to take a nap."

There was a clatter as one of the other cops dropped her gun, arms sagging to either side. The others didn't even seem to notice. Officers and civilians alike were watching her, intent, eyes drooping lower with every soft-spoken word. Nodding, hands spread out placidly, Aisling began to slowly back up towards the pale man until she was close enough for her voice to carry.

"It's not gonna last long. Time to run."
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

User avatar
Fang
Fang
Posts: 133
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 4:22 pm
Contact:

Re: Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post by Fang » Sat Dec 01, 2018 8:59 am

He could feel her warmth from across the field, and when that warmth moved closer he barely contained his shock. The ice crackled around his feet as he saw his power fail him, consuming whatever it wished without regard to his need.

Even as the female cast her glamour frost touched at her feet. Finian focused on the warmth of the sun, allowing it to flow into him and abate his hunger. The ring of frost around him quieted it’s crackling, and it’s borders shrank minutely, assurance he had abated that immediate disaster.

At the word run he sprang into action, taking the woman’s hand in his and yanking her away as he drove forward at maximum speed. The landscape blurred around him, the wind blowing behind him as he ran gradually faster than humanly possible, outpacing even the metal carriages that followed the black path he paralleled. Spying a dark side road he turned, skidding to a stop with a billow of wind, snow, and dust obscuring the alleyway. Stray cats yowled in protest as they sprang from crevices around the alley and raced for safety.

Quickly Finian released the girl, hoping he hadn’t invited her with his touch. His face twisted in anguish and he threw himself against the side of a nearby dumpster, denting it significantly and collapsing with his head in his hands. “It was too early! Who brought me back? This is no time for winter!”

User avatar
Stitches
Token Witch
Posts: 1339
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 12:25 am
Location: Gravity Falls, Oregon
Contact:

Re: Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post by Stitches » Tue Dec 18, 2018 6:13 am

The smoke from the various incense sticks around her turned the living room of the three room apartment hazy. The red haired witch was careful in her placement of them, as well as the salt circle that she now laid down. After making sure their front door was locked and properly warded, Stephanie stepped into the circle. She curled her legs under herself, placing both palms up on her knees. By this point the entire apartment was filled with a thick cloud of lavender and sage and smoke. Her eyes fluttered shut, darkened lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks in a butterfly soft touch.

She descended to the White net, and thousands, possibly a million, voices brushed against her mind. Women, men, children, all screaming, crying, pleading, praying, laughing, brushing against her mind. This was the easiest level to access, and therefore, the noisiest. She pushed past the attempts of others to connect to her mind into the Yellow net. The golden warmth that encompassed it caressed her mind, inviting her in. Still, it was too loud. She forced her way past it, gaining speed as she went. Amber, Rose, and Blue Dawn passed by quickly. The volume dropped drastically as she entered Purple Dusk, and she slowed as she descended down through Opal, Green, Sapphire, and Red. By the time she had come to Gray, there is near absolute silence. Ebon-Gray pitches her into a void of absolute silence, a wide open, cold, and calm wave of darkness. It isn’t the final level, but she had never encountered anyone at this depth before. For all she knew, no one else in the world could reach this far down.

She unleashed her thoughts, and the void around her swirled with colors as she expanded the reach of her mind. All of her worries, her fears, and her anxieties tinted the air with blue and purple, while her clenched anger ignited the void in streaks of fire. The lights grew in size until they practically engulfed all within sight. As she continued the emotional detoxing, however, the aural cloud around her spliced open, parting like a waterfall meeting a rock halfway down. It startled her, and she moved toward the parting, peering out. Her hair swirled forward, blocking her eyes for a moment, but she brushed it aside and went still upon seeing the outside.

At the very edge of the cloud was a young man, not much older than Steph by the looks of him. He wore a hoodie with the hood up, but she could see the edges of lip piercings and a smooth, strong jaw from under it. Tattoos wrapped around his exposed forearms and denim jeans clung to thick legs and hips. He was staring in awe at the lights, hesitantly reaching out to it. The colors coiled around his hand invitingly, tracing up his arm. With a soft huff, she swept an arm through the cloud, and the entirety of it dispersed. The man looked up at her, and she was taken aback by the face that stared at her. A moment of electric silence passed between them before Stephanie abruptly and violently threw herself upwards. The man shot himself up as well, trying to catch up to her again, but she was far faster, and very clearly better at navigating.

Her ass collided with the wooden floor of the apartment as she gave a startled shriek. Her circle broke as her legs hit it. The smoke from her incense had nearly cleared entirely, bringing the room back into focus. Her hair had become tangled with her necklace at some point, leaving it disheveled and even more unruly than normal, wrapped in long chunks down it’s length. The girl sat, dazed and more than slightly confused, as she struggled to figure out what the actual fuck had just occurred.

You've been bitten by a true believer
You've been bitten by
someone who's hungrier than you
You've been bitten by
someone's false beliefs

User avatar
Annasiel
Administrator
Posts: 4872
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 6:40 am
Gender: Female
Location: Somewhere grey and full of ghosts.
Contact:

Re: Monsters Can’t Be Roomates

Post by Annasiel » Tue Dec 18, 2018 8:36 am

Aisling didn't realize how cold her hand had grown until she pulled it away from the odd man's, allowing air to rush against her clammy palm. She held it against her chest, turning to face him with wide, curious eyes - and a nigh malevolent smile. He was fast. Faster than she'd been able to keep up with. Less painful than the cold, her arm ached from wrist to shoulder, and her feet felt like she'd spent the past hour marching barefoot on concrete. She took a step forward, prodding his side with the toe of her shoe.

"You one of those, uh, snowbirds?" she asked pointedly. "Shouldn't a stopped your vacation so soon."

The words had a tinge of humor, but were spoken blankly. Aisling was preoccupied with thinking. Thinking was a task she didn't like to commit, much often, for too much of it left her with a terrible migraine. For this, though, thinking was a necessity. She needed to unravel this little basket of curiosity that had so kindly stumbled right across her path.

"An bhfuil tú Aos Si?"

She gave him another prod with her foot.

In the corner of her mind, a well of energy erupted, then shrunk. She glanced away from the man for a moment.

Fuck. Steph.
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 3 guests