| Welcome to the Flaming Atom Forum. This site is a subsidiary of Fission's blog site, FlamingAtom. We have discussion and play-by-post role play, we try to cater to everyone. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Shadows in Darkness | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 11 2010, 05:25 AM (859 Views) | |
| Fission | Dec 11 2010, 05:25 AM Post #1 |
|
Uguu desu
|
This is a completely free-form, open-ended RPG. You are free to use any character you want (save for ones that aren't your own, of course) and add anything you want to the story, so long as it does not conflict with what has already been presented. Thunder shook the citadel and awoke the beast from its endless slumber. Small flicks of light shuddered within the dark, black orbs that one might call "eyes." They took in no light, for there was no light to take in. Its entire body shuddered as it tried to move, quickly realizing that its wrists and ankles were all bound, chained and connected to the thick wall behind it. It struggled not, instead taking in its surroundings. Dark. Damp. Very damp. Water trickled from above, forming small puddles before draining into the cracks in the castle stone. The beast did not understand this concept of water, not fully. Any memories were far and distance, locked in some ancient past that it could not control. It let out a moan. It was mournful, sorrowful, full of pain. It clenched its right fist, felt its strength, then it pulled. The chains gave way with a mere tug, rusted as they were. It did the same to the chains latching its ankles and right arm. With its arms dangling, it took its first step into this new world, a world that had forgotten about it long ago. It looked on into the pitch black, the absolute darkness-- No, it thought. This is not absolute darkness. That is a sunbeam. Sunbeam. It rolled the concept and the word in its mind. Sunbeam. Light. Life. Giving. Gifts. Presents. Family. An explosion of connections reaffirmed themselves in its unorthodox mind, giving its world a new meaning. The floor was stone. The chains were metal, rusted. And it was... it was... Well, it was definitely a he, a male. He took a few more steps, finally entering small ray of light that floated down in the morbid abyss of the dungeon. He looked at his left hand, saw the slender, deadly-looking claws. Claws, he thought. His hand was a dark gray, almost black, metallic in nature, and he traced the red lines that ran from the red--red, crystalline--orb on the back of his left hand all the way up to his shoulder. Shoulder, he thought. He looked down at the rest of his body and saw that he was made of this dark, slate material, smooth yet rough, so alien to this world. Was it metal? Was it stone? Was it flesh? Flesh. Living, breathing flesh, he thought. He ran his right hand--the normal one, he thought--over the back of his head and across his face. Completely smooth. His eyes were but small abutments on an otherwise completely smooth surface. He felt a somewhat thing line run across the lower part of his face--mouth. He moaned again, trying to form the word. "M... mouf. Mouf. My mouf. Mouth," he finally pronounced, annunciating the last "th" like some estranged serpent. His mouth did not move, but the sound definitely came out, including the sigh which followed it. Was he alone? Was this world so cruel? He no longer focused on the individual concepts that he was remembering--including the concept of remembering--but felt them come and go as they pleased. Those memories were still distant, faces mostly forgotten, the full details gone but small tidbits--an eye here, a nose here, a chin here, a haircut there--flooded with no apparent connections. Places came and went. An entire world blew by in his mind, vague and unremembered. And then he found his name. "Drahk. Drahk." he said out loud, repeating himself a few more times. For some reason he dared not talk at any volume above a harsh whisper, for fear that the ceiling might collapse on him. Drahk stared around in the near-darkness. He felt those small, dark globules he called eyes pierce farther and farther into the shroud of pitch. His cell had no door, but others in the dungeon did, all connected to some odd, misshapen room. There was a staircase--staircase, he humorously mused on--in the far end. He smelled--sensed, more than smelled, for he had no nose as far as he could tell--the scent of decay. Not just decay, ancient decay, old rotting corpses locked up in a dungeon and abandoned for all time. Decades? No. Centuries? Probably. No more than a millenia. The concept of numbers interested him, and he quickly counted--in his head, of course--up to somewhere around six hundred seventy-eight before giving up. He knew of the concept of time, but in that absolute darkness time seemed far and distant. And was it not? In such a place, forgotten and ignored for centuries, would time itself start to slip away from it, retract away from it like people from a mine town when the mine stopped producing? Heheh. What a thought. Edited by Fission, Dec 14 2010, 12:00 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| RunawayAra | Dec 13 2010, 11:44 PM Post #2 |
|
His eyes now adjusted to the gloomy depths of the dungeon, the man could see movement ahead. He crept closer on silent feet, listening and watching carefully as a form took shape ahead. It resembled a man, but... larger, and where skin should have been, what looked like stone. This... was not what the man had expected to find down here. The book made no mention of a guardian, so what was this thing? Best not to attract unwanted attention. The man thought to himself, sliding into deeper shadows. The thing seemed top be moving more now, as if stretching from a long slumber, and... What was that sound? Was it trying... to speak? The man listened intently as the form suddenly produced coherent words. What ever it is, it can apparently speak common... What on earth is that thing? Ideas, fears, hopes, all vied for attention in the mans mind as he observed the creature. He had been hoping to find something of value down in this god forsaken place, at least enough to recoup the losses from buying the information. Maybe this thing could lead him to something, if he let it be. Silently, the man waded back into the shadows, all but invisible in the darkness, and waited, watching. Edited by RunawayAra, Dec 21 2010, 08:34 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| Fission | Dec 21 2010, 10:21 AM Post #3 |
|
Uguu desu
|
The creature flexed his shoulders, his back contorting at sharp angles with unseen muscle and bone, if he had such a thing. He splayed out his fingers, including the terrifying claws on his left hand; joints popped with sickening pleasure, filling the dungeon with life. Drahk continued to gain consciousness, trying to come up with a goal. Leave? Stay? He certain could stay, since had already been there for so long. He wasn't sure, however, that the castle itself could stay up. It seemed old and worn, ground down by the elements. He reached up toward the ceiling; it was beyond even his grasp. Instead, he knelt and reached down the floor--the cold, damp floor--and ran his normal hand along it. There was no scraping sound as one might expect, if Drahk were made of metal or stone. Instead, his fingers squished and morphed like any flesh would, running smoothly along the cobble. Sighing, Drahk stood to full height. He seemed at least a good eight feet, though Drahk had no real understanding of what a feet or a meter or even an inch was. He had no purpose, and this bothered him as if the philosophical ramifications were part of his very being. He needed to do something. But what? He took a few more careful steps, making no sound save for his feet softly plodding onto the stone and the small splashed as his heel disturbed a small puddle. His lithe figure seemed somewhat like a ghost or ghoul, outlined by the small crack of light from the ceiling of his cell. His slender form frightened even himself, his shadow tracking across the room and merging with the absolute darkness of the far side of the dungeon. |
![]() |
|
| RunawayAra | Dec 29 2010, 03:30 AM Post #4 |
|
He watched as the figure knelt down to run his hand along the floor. The creature looked like stone, but the sound of his hand was that of flesh on stone, not the grinding one would have expected. Interesting... What is this thing made out of?, he thought, watching the form rise to it's feet again and stretch to its full height, a good two feet more than the man himself. This gave the man pause, for though it was quite large it moved with a grace that belied it's speed, and had long, wicked looking claws. Shrugging off the feeling of unease looking upon the creature, the man decided to take action with the creature. Maybe it knew something about the supposed great treasure to be found down here. Or maybe it will just slice me to bits. Well, Cole, you got yourself into this, might as well see it through to the end. Which could be about three seconds from now. Taking a deep breath, Cole stepped from the shadows into the dim light, one step towards where the creature stood illuminated by the light spilling from the ceiling and called out, "'Lo there! Don't suppose you've seen anything that looks like treasure down here?" |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Miscellanea · Next Topic » |






2:42 PM Jul 11
