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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 4:29 pm
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 4:31 pm
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Juniper stared, eyes wide. Feeling Sunny, knowing that this...well, being, was the complete embodiment of Ashdown. Sure, Sunny had told her, but Juniper didn't, couldn't, grasp what the phrase had actually meant. But now...
"Jesus." She said. Shaking her head slowly, the hood of her jacket falling from her head with the motion.
It felt like the world was about to come a part. Pressure was building all around them, bearing down on them. Was Sunny trying to destroy them all? Why now?
On impulse, Juniper reached out and grabbed Zac's hand as she moved closer to him. Her eyes flit from Zac to the others in the group to gauge their reactions. She stopped and studied Shun for a moment longer.
"What are we going to do?" She said to Zac and Jeremiah, whose eyes she caught.
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 4:32 pm
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Alexis does not startle -- their teeth click together and their shoulders stiffen, but they keep a tight lid on their temper and think calm calm calm calm, and the water does nothing it wouldn't do anyways. "Then show us." It's a stupid thing to say. It's the stupidest thing to say. "I want to know."
Their voice is solid. They are not afraid. In fact, Alexis thinks, they're not very much of anything except alive. But alive is such a variable state.
--
Ashton doesn't want to be here. Ashton really doesn't want to be here. She can feel it in the part of her brain that's animal, cowering, ears-back tail-down to Sunny -- the witch on the beach -- something about it makes her want to choke, or claw at her ears until they bleed and she can't hear it (she'd still hear it, she knows she'd still hear it, she knows -- it is something she knows like breathing). But she can't. So she takes deep breaths and doesn't quite look at Sunny, and does not think of her own skin breaking apart like that and how comfortable it would be to be something else, because Sunny is the source.
Deep breaths. She hasn't felt so afraid in a very long time, since she was but a small boy. She doesn't want it to start again now.
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 4:41 pm
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Kaleb was painfully unsettled on Halloween, all day he had expected the more frightening aspects of living in a magical town to jump out at him, and his nerves were strained by the time he felt the call. He wanted to resist it, curl up on the couch with a blanket and enough books to barricade his little room against the world. He didn't want to go to the forest, but he felt it so strongly, he had to.
Ill prepared for a night out walking in the rain, all alone and frightened, the teen finally left his room and nervously set out towards whatever awaited him in the darkness. He wanted none of this, he didn't want to go see, but he did anyway, and after some walking he came across a surprisingly large group ahead. He was too short to see over the crowd, too timid to weave through the clustered people and take in the frightening sight of the unearthly chasm ahead, and the mad being he could hear speaking just beyond the group.
He tried to back off, not wanting to be a part of whatever was happening in front of the group, but he found it impossible to retreat.
Quote: If someone wants to take pity on the little scared straggler, plz do. @o@
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 4:48 pm
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Adjusting her glasses, Veronica offered a soft smile in response to other, looking at the procession of people with confusion and curiosity. Veronica recognized no one, which was honestly not much of a surprise-- She wasn't used to speaking to much of anyone but her own family. As she followed the group, adjusting her rumpled dress, Veronica simply followed after the other friendly guy, eyes curious and interested. It seemed like they'd been called by something, and said something didn't seem very... normal. Noticing a person wave at her, Veronica waved back, slightly embarrassed. When they all stopped in a grove, Veronica watched in confusion, biting the inside of her lip from slight nervousness and-- Wait. Who was that?
Veronica didn't recognize her either, but she didn't seem real, more ethereal, and she didn't know if she was friendly or dangerous. There was a large chasm she hadn't known was there before, and in it was nothing but black. It's grown? What's grown, Veronica didn't understand. She felt lost and frankly a little out of place, almost as if she'd stumbled in a situation that didn't concern her. She was pulled out of her stupor when the same friendly male spoke to her. Veronica offered him a sheepish smile before her gaze fell back to the figure in the distance. "I'm seeing something, alright." Veronica responded, swallowing as the others began to react nearby. One girl yelled, and the a few seemed more clued in than the rest. Before she could get too curious however, the figure began to move again, a deep desire to answer the call twisting in her.
Veronica watched her movements carefully, watching the interaction of the thing with a person among them. Veronica listened, feeling a little bit nervous that she was free and whatever that entailed. She listened, a chill shaking her spine as she "spoke", the taste on her tongue feeling very strange. Killed, torn magic out, played them like a piano? Her words were concerning, and it was then and there she felt the pull-- A connection, something deeper between her-- them all and her. The more she spoke, the more confused she was. Bored, saving and not needing to, justice-- Seeing everything. Veronica was truly confused now, but something was to happen, and this something felt big. She glanced at the others, similarly worried and/or frightened, lost. Some were speaking about killing.
Veronica could feel her palms dampen. This was definitely not the way she'd imagined her day would go.
Quote: there are a few mentions of others!!
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 4:51 pm
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Darcie O'Hare Meta 4 Darcie was still glancing behind her every minute or so. She really wasn't sure about all this. Scratch that, she was defiantly unsure about that, if the contradiction fit. If she had gone home and told anyone about this... feeling she was having. About how she felt she needed, needed to enter this forest, and join a group of people she really didn't know, and eave leave her responsibility tied to a tree.
Darcie smiled down at the girl she was walking with, and pulled out another plastic dog poncho. Darcie looked at the poncho, a little embarrassed to be offering such a well put together woman some dinky little animal coat, but offered it anyway with a shrug. Darcie grinned awkwardly as the woman grabbed her arm. "Hey don't sweat it, I, uh, i don't really know whats even happening." Darcie joined the group in a sudden gasp of surprise. She wasn't really sure what she was seeing, but she could tell that the others seemed to have a much better grasp on the situation. Darcie shoved her hands into her coat pockets, and subtly shifted from foot to foot, unsure what was even happening.
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 5:09 pm
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"Sunny, it's cool that you're free - but ya don't look so hot, though. Are ya sick?" Sunny was very much not okay. "Shut the ******** up," she muttered at the pounding voices in her head. Preacher wished she could leap the chasm and take Sunny's hands, stop the pick, pick, pick of her nails against her skin, quiet her somehow.
Instead she edged closer. The babbling about justice... there was no ******** justice in the world, never was, and accepting that should have happened long ago, she thought. Like how homes weren't real. "Show me whatever, Suns, but stop pickin' ya hands!" The ground rumbled beneath her.
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2016 5:24 pm
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At first all there is is the rift. All the exists is the head pounding pressure of magic and the suspicious grin of Sunny, and then there's just that—Jamie slips his hand into his but then there's just Sunny. Everything is Sunny. The sky, the rain, the grass, the trees, the flowers—they're blooming on his skin in anticipation, in fear, in resolve, and those are Sunny too. She's the court and she's the air he breathes and she's the magic in his veins and she's the source of his Nobility.
They're all involved with something far beyond their understanding. Shiloh doesn't even understand himself, his own position. He doesn't know how he fits into this game or how Jamie fits into this game or what it means to be a Noble or a Moonwalker. His mind snaps two memories together and he remembers that dark night at Denny's, however stupid it was, and their "fight" and the promise that hey, they could do it again sometime, and it was so so so stupid but there was something childish there, something small, something pathetic, something so far out of bounds of what he was witnessing now. This wasn't Sunny—but it was—but not how he knew her.
And in the end, despite any reserved feelings, it meant nothing. It meant nothing because the thing next to him was more important; Jamie was more important, and in that moment he wasn't looking at Sunny—he was looking at Micheal, back at Blackfriar's—he was consumed with this overwhelming urge that screamed protect, protect, protect. Was that him? Was that his nobility? Who was he? All he could smell was Sunny, ashen and old like something from ages past. It made him feel nostalgic, even though he had never been there.
Had ******** ******** <********> he swore because his mind was racing and had nothing else to offer. His hand was strangling Jamie's and he was stepping in front of him, thick vines lined with thorns coiling around his fingers like nature-made brass knuckles. Sunny was immeasurable—incomprehensible—but damn if Shiloh wouldn't go down fighting. He'd struggled to much, fought too much, actually had something to lose. Then again, what was nightshade to a god? Purple flowers dripped out of his pockets, beautiful and deadly. He's afraid, but he consoles himself with the thought that he's probably already dead.
You're removed from the cycle. If you die it's game over.
The impending earthquake felt like it might shatter him rather than the earth.
"How the <********> do you stop something like this..." he hissed to himself, only just now noticing Zac. "W-Who the ******** are you texting at a time like this?" he was panicking, very obviously panicking, and he didn't mean to take it out on him (not that anyone knew that about him, sans perhaps Jamie). Under the rumbling thunder he managed to notice Kaleb too, eyes widening at the recognition. They weren't friends, but that didn't change much; he knew that guy was thrown headfirst into this s**t, and it hadn't been that long ago. "Stay back!" Get the ******** out of here! was what he wanted to say, but it was useless. None of them could leave. Something was culminating here and they were all prisoner to it. "Or at least get the ******** over ******** I don't know," he was cracking, <******** ISN'T WHAT I MEANT," he was yelling now, way to go Shiloh, "WHEN I SAID FIGHT ME." At least fight him, don't kill everyone else, Jesus ******** Christ. They were all ******** anyway so he didn't have that much to lose. "THERE'S A VERY DISTINCT FIGHT ME THERE." his voice cracked, hoarse with effort, strained with stress. RIP Shiloh Beaumont.
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