Enrique 'Darkrai'
LEGENDARY
[P:0]
...Thus madness is an old friend
Posts: 94
OOC Name:: Airy
|
Post by Enrique 'Darkrai' on Nov 2, 2013 1:52:39 GMT -5
mad world all around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces, bright and early for the daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere, their tears are filling up their glasses, no expression, no expression There would be no costumes for the man who roamed the streets upon this night. It was not necessary, for he came clad in his own shape and form--The shadows that reached out and clung to his shape were like extra extensions of the body and form that he now carried. It was a ploy. The night had fallen dead, and even as the masqeurade raged on, close enough for his more sensitive ears to pick up on, the nightmare itself looked for something else to entertain himself with. Was Hallow' Eve not, after all, one of his more notorious nights of the year?
For he was not a trick or treater. He was more similar to a snake waiting for it's prey, prepared to strike, coiled as tightly as a spring. The tense hold of his arms, the way those blue eyes reflected in the dim light of the alley, the small, short breathes that burst free from his chest again and again. It was all a continous pattern. He was waiting. He was listening. If there was anything that he had gained from his time as a complete mortal, it had been the ability to embrace and ensnare patience. He may have awaited something else--the younger folks upon this dark evening, or even gone to them, but the nightmare god had not been able to allow himself to diffuse the shadows and the cracks within walls quite yet.
Someone would approach--Darkrai's shoulders tensed, and that repeated inhalation finally faltered, as did the shadows that writhed out from the dark wall. The moon, conveniently, seemed to begin to cloud over--previously bright eyes glanced upwards to stare at the very culprit, the wispy shapes of barely formed clouds could be seen even as that colour dulled. A man approached. The one in hiding flared his nostrils. A scent, a slight nervousness--No one seemed to sit at ease with the idea of wandering the dark streets upon the night. The shadows writhed up to form around his right arm, building up around his fingers, even as a foot began to step out from the depths of the alley that he had concealed himself in.
Another sense, something else was out there. More specifically, someone else.
He did not stop.
The mans fears tasted of domestic abuse by a wife--unexpected, and the bad memories of a boss who often harassed him at work. He appeared to have children that he did not want to leave alone at home--Which likely explained the quick pace. Perhaps the wife had taken them out herself for this night of... festivities. Mundane, insignificant things. The increased heart rate as cold fingers, tipped with rather sharp nails suddenly clasped around a thin, wiry throat, was much more interesting. He was small, shorter than the nightmare god, and his nails easily dug into the soft skin near his upper carotid--he was not here to kill, however. A soft breathe in the mans ear, a release of energy and darkness. The Dark Void could be expelled in many ways. The rush of fear--of something darker, and the weakness in the mans legs even as Enrique himself caught him and help him up was much more fulfilling. In fact, the nightmare god gave a hiss of pleasure.
Those blue eyes, however, snapped back open from where they had shut. It was best to address the other presence, "...Kyurem. Again, if I'm so correct. Or perhaps I'm speaking to empty air."
The form in his arms jerked. The dark chuckle didn't quite sound like his own. TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP
|
|
|
Post by Kyurem "Vanadis Grímsson" on Nov 4, 2013 4:03:20 GMT -5
The dragon had abandoned her other outfit hours prior. The crown of icicles had been laid on a trash can. The white gown had been replaced with a pair if dark pants and loose shirt. She no loner looked like a true queen of ice.
Kyurem saw no reason to prance about in costumes; she wore, in her human form, something far better than anything in a two-bit shop. Her feet were bare. She stalked through the streets like a predator—sulfuric eyes paused on each smiling face. Her teeth, pointed in the pale moonlight, fit in with the scene of the night. This odd ritual, where children spoke to strangers and asked to be tricked, was nothing like the rituals once associated with this day. No dark spirit would be frightened by these cheap fabrics and little glittering princesses.
A bag in her hand, filled with a single gallon of milk, swung beside her. Where she walked, with each step, was a fine layer of white frost. The grass stiffened and broke apart. If touched, even beneath her clothing, the woman was cold. She was not controlling her temperature too well on this night; the amount of ghouls, goblins, and ghosts made her a bit jumpy and paranoid. The sounds of happy children, voices high-pitched and grating, drew her lips up in a snarl. She did not like all these people running at her with containers and fake weapons. It reminded her of days pinned inside a dark cave; spears circled her. Men shouted. “That is the past. It does not matter any longer.” Kyurem, never one to dwell, continued on her walk. The memories, shattering like thin sheets of ice, vanished into her eon’s worth of memories.
Her nose could not have missed it. It was the acrid smell of fear. It was something akin to urine freshly splashed onto pavement. While her senses were dimmed, in order to stop herself from being overly inconvenienced, the stench was apparent. Beneath it, harder to identify as something other than a feeling, something shifted and wafted. It was the smell of nightmares. She herself had many more as of late. Vanadis had a conversation to be held with Darkrai; she decided, as she did not feel like finding his home, to speak to him of those matters now.
When she came upon the scene, nothing but her cat-like eyes visible in the shadows, she stood in silence. Frost crawled, like webs crafted by invisible spiders, as she watched. The sheer terror from the human, slightly reflected in Kyurem herself, made her stomach rumble irritably. Slowly, as she recognized the noise of freezing brick, the heat began to raise. Darkrai spoke. “You are not mistaken, Nightmare God. It is Kyurem. “ The bag was clutched tightly as she stared at the shadowy figure. Why were children afraid of an old bed sheet---even if it had blue eyes? Kyurem was not afraid. She was tense.
The man in the grasp of the fellow god looked ill. She snorted as she walked closer. The human seemed to be a piece of the scenery. He was a sofa to be sat upon. He held no more worth to the female deity than the bag writhing like a snake in her hand. “….You have missed it. This fear of stupid things.” One claw, appearing on a fingertip, gestured to the man in his grasp. No one else was upon this street. Most of the children had left for their homes and sugar-induced comatose states. The adults, fearing whatever ancient spirits supposedly roamed on nights like this, huddled like cave men within their dens. The world smelled of sugar. It was empty on this road. The human would find little help within the area—mayhap the god of fear made them wary.
It was either that or the snow.
|
|
Enrique 'Darkrai'
LEGENDARY
[P:0]
...Thus madness is an old friend
Posts: 94
OOC Name:: Airy
|
Post by Enrique 'Darkrai' on Nov 9, 2013 15:35:02 GMT -5
mad world all around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces, bright and early for the daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere, their tears are filling up their glasses, no expression, no expression Sobered. The nightmare god had not lost his mind. The rush had not overcome him, and Enrique had not succumbed to the overwhelming desire he felt to cause chaos--This may have had more to do with the state he was still in. He was not a true god yet. He could not access his divine form, and he could not even go so far as to infiltrate a dream, so much as he could cause terror, ignite nightmares, and wreak havoc on a mortals mind. The rush would get to him in these times. The man standing there, with long fingers wrapped around the throat of his victim, was not quite himself. But his breath was steadying. The words of Kyurem made a pair of bright blue eyes begin to focus again, and pale lips pressed tightly together. He had been interrupted. He did not like that. Was this not what he had been ordered to do? With what he had, there was little more chaos he could cause, for a god who was not even released from his prison.
Perhaps it would have been better to wait.
The weak human gave another struggle, his breathe came in with sharp gasps, likely inhibited by the tight grip around his throat, and his body was sweating furiously. As the nightmare god became distracted, so did his power begin to ease off, and thus whatever horrors the human had been experiencing began to ebb away--Only for a moment. The human in his arms would only serve as a distraction as he spoke to the other. A swelling of his power, the area around him seemed to become chilled, and the body gave a choked, pained noise. The shadows swelled around his fingers and up the mans face. His nostrils and mouth proved to be a good reciprocate for them, and those gasping breathes were halted--until the man slumped, limp and almost lifeless, into the nightmare gods arms. A slight hiss as the sudden weight pulled at a mostly solid back, where old wounds still pained him, and the form in Darkrai's arms was slowly lowered to the ground. The shadows receded as he did. The human male would not be dead. He would likely wake up with a pounding headache, however, and nightmares that would last for weeks.
He did not suspect her to fear him. He was not at the state where any of the other gods had any reason to fear him, except perhaps the weaker ones. Enrique was no better than a demi-god in the state he was in. He had powers that he could utilize, and mortals may fall to their knees before him, but there was no way that he was anywhere near his full power. He also had no doubt that if she so wished, Kyurem could play the simple card of having the abilities she had granted him revoked. Darkrai was not ready for that. He would rather avoid it at all costs, in fact. He did not, however, show the mortal reactions of fear in her presence. Something had steeled in him. Enrique watched her with almost unfeeling eyes, "I am curious your reason for interrupting me, Kyurem. It is not appreciated."
Her words made him pause. His eyes turned to stare at the form below him, and the nightmare god frowned, even as he nudged it with one boot clad foot. The fear of humans was as he remembered, and it was better than what he had been able to taste for such a very long time. He had missed it, and he would lie if he claimed he was not greedy. He wanted his divine form back. He wanted his full powers. He was not patient, but gritted teeth was enough to stop him from saying anything too quickly for him to think it over, "I was created into fear. It makes sense that I would miss it. I'm sure you understand that, Kyurem, unless I have misread you." He would not be doing himself any favors, however, by prying where he did not belong, especially when he was so close to one of the woman's other halves. TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP
|
|
|
Post by Kyurem "Vanadis Grímsson" on Nov 18, 2013 6:25:03 GMT -5
The dragoness stared at him with sulfuric eyes; they reflected and shone in the light like those of a cat. She refused to admit any sense of dread invoked by nightmares; there were few foes that she could not tear limb from limb. The infection, which may reduce her to a mindless animal, would have been the only thing to draw up fear in sleep; capable of lying, unable to be detected, Vanadis could deny her terror. Some things frightened her. She doubted this man, who had come to her begging for powers like a kitten for milk, was truly a threat. It was not as if, with his powers, he hand-crafted all nightmares; he would not be able to spend time walking upon sidewalks if that were the case. Head held high, in a feral show of superiority, Vanadis aimed to prove who was mistress.
The pressing of lips, a sign of displeasure, resulted in a narrowing of yellow eyes. Body language from the ice-type seemed to indicate a sort of annoyance. Any sign of anger on his part, as she attempted to hold up his half of the bargain, would likely result in a consequence. The growling, as many of these apes were walking about in supposedly frightening things, would just be brushed away as a costume. Darkrai would respond to her inquiries in a timely and submissive manner. Those who threw tantrums, whether tiny-humans or gods, were harshly dealt with.
Nostrils flaring angrily, as the human gasped, Vana began to snarl at the rude primate. Gods were speaking; this was the wrong place for a pack member to deny one of its alpha. If it were her, and not the likely weak nightmare-god (who dealt only in cheap parlor tricks), that human would end up a piece of ice. The anger turned to bewilderment briefly. The temperature had dropped; her own aura was suppressed. Fear became more tangible on her tongue. Hunger growled deep within her belly; she had little but human fare this past week. It compared little to a meal garnered with a hunt. As odd things began to happen, shadows raising to suffocate the man, Kyurem gave another noise of savage reproach. It was the way a coward, such as a snake, disposed of prey. It was not holy. “Did you kill him, nightmare-god? The humans will not enjoy that. They are picky.” The weakness in his back, displayed in his pained grunts, did not bring sympathy into the ice-types soul. She would likely lack the word to describe such a feeling. Keen ears picked up a heart beat within the ape’s comatose form. Taking a step forward, gently prodding it with her foot, she turned to continue her conversation. Mad humans who prattled about gods were put in white-rooms with no windows. The man, if he did not die, could gossip to his heart’s content.
One assumption was incorrect. Vanadis had little idea how to remove the abilities. The instructions had been simple and straight-forward; not even a quick scrawl indicated how to reverse the action. The dragon cared little about what the boogeyman threatened her with. It was long past the time where, like a primitive person, she screeched at the skies in the thralls of sleep. She would not bite at her nightmares. They were no more true than the vampires strolling around on this holiday. Judging by what happened next, ice spreading across the sidewalk and the victim’s clothes, Darkrai’s words were not welcome: “You may be curious as a skinned cat. I care not for your ‘appreciated’.” The nightmare god seemed to be wasting his abilities on large humans. They struggled more. They fought. Large humans might succeed in breaking free from a predators. The nightmare god, in the eyes of the feral deity, was a stupid lion cub. Enrique misunderstood the hunt. The young and feeble were easier targets. The vicious expression, which looked odd on a human face, was replaced with cool apathy.
Darkrai had relented. She felt no need to over-assert her authority; that was the sign of a weak leader. The next noise to emerge, a quiet snort, was followed with cool words: “You have not misread. I am not foolish, Darkrai. I miss snow. I do not call winter without reason. That is stupid.” Tilting her head back, staring at the moon for a moment, the goddess pondered how to word her reasoning. Finally, lifting one pale hand, she pointed to a child’s form in the distance. It was dressed as some sort of metal box. Its handler, in a black outfit, seemed eager to plunder candy. “Smaller humans are simpler targets. Go after them. There are many here.”
|
|
Enrique 'Darkrai'
LEGENDARY
[P:0]
...Thus madness is an old friend
Posts: 94
OOC Name:: Airy
|
Post by Enrique 'Darkrai' on Nov 23, 2013 15:29:33 GMT -5
mad world all around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces, bright and early for the daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere, their tears are filling up their glasses, no expression, no expression He would have denied that. Darkrai had not come to her begging for his powers back. She had approached him--He had simply shown a moment of desperation at the offer. He had not been able to turn it down, and thus far he had not regreted it. His powers have been a true blessing, and he would not have gone back to being a mortal for anything. Arceus himself would have to strike him down for that... Something had happened before. Before Vanadis had approached him, Darkrai had resigned himself to the next many centuries as a mortal--He had not seen a 'light' at the end of the tunnel. He had not expected his powers back anytime in the near future. He had surprised him with the offer. He had taken it with an almost greedy enthusiasm. His eyes rested on her and that head held high. He was not one to bow down to superiority. His top lip curled, and his eyes narrowed--but he said nothing. He remained wary that she could, somehow, take the powers he had gained back away.
He was throwing no tantrums. He was irritated. The growling made him want to scoff, but his arms simply tightened around the man in them, nails digging deep into the humans skin. He would have returned the noise himself, but he remained silent. He felt that his silence was, somehow, a better reaction than anything. His eyes showed no change in his current stance on the matter--He refused to show that he was bothered by her. For he was not. Did she want to snarl at him like some feral beast? Then so be it. Darkrai was doing his job. He was doing what she had asked of him, and that had not changed.
Darkrai did not deal in death. He dealt in the fear of death, and the darkness that often surrounded death. It did not mean that he had not killed before. His powers often brought about this nasty little side effect. Fear did horrible things to the human heart, and there was times when his more savage side could get carried away. Enrique watched Vanadis warily as the shadows crept up the human--his eyes did not move from her, even as the man slumped in his arms, even as his back proved itself to still be a hindrance, and the body was disposed upon the ground, "I am no executioner, Kyurem. He will wake up, likely with a headache and a new set of fears that he did not believe he had." Her foot nudged the man, but he did not move. He had been effectively put out. Darkrai may very well pass him in the streets within the next few weeks--he simply hoped his presence didn't send the human into hysterics.
He would remain unaware of her inability to take his powers, or if it was even possible. The gate that had been thrown up between himself and his abilities by Arceus's hand had been cracked, and his powers were gradually trickling out. That would be hard to block again. Arceus would be the creature for that feat. Darkrai would have argued that nightmares could very well turn real--his own often had, but this was not the time, nor place. The chill and ice, which touched at the shoes upon his feet, only made his harsh blue eyes turn down to look at the ground, "I suppose you wouldn't, Kyurem. Is there even many things that you do care for?" There was a reason behind him going for the larger humans. He avoided the thought as if it was a plague, it was much more simple to simply interrupt the thoughts of an adult.
"Than you only confirm my point. What you previously said held no reason." Kyurem's next words left little room for avoiding the issue, however. The young's minds were very susceptible. They brought a greater rush, they often brought about a more savage side of himself that he could not shake. The last time Darkrai had infiltrated a childs mind with fear, they had died at his hands. He had gotten carried away. Did he care for the life that had been lost, and the ghost that had wandered that house for many years after? Not particularly.
He had, however, lost his powers because of it.
"I would be blind not to have seen them, Vanadis. I will do as you say--It seemed more beneficial to wait until they had all fallen asleep."
A lie. There was many children already deep within slumber.
(24 hours before responding~) TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP
|
|