Have a teaser because I'm a douche like that.
(So we've mentioned the RP we're working on, I figured maybe it'd help motivate us to work on it or something if we showed people what we had so far. This bit of writing is Kai's and it's not even done holy goddamn.)
It began with a message. A warning of such dire urgency that it rattled the inner walls of the mind ripped its way throughout the sea of consciousness with unyielding fervor. Its ripples pierced even through the veil of weary slumber. Jolted awake with a start, a man rose abruptly from his bed, alert, as though snapped free of the clutches of death by unearthly power. He blinked hard, seeking his bearings as the jarring message tore across his thoughts for a second time.
Get off the surface of the planet, or be incinerated.
A long ear twitched from where it stood out the side of his head. He recognized that woman’s voice. It belonged to the ruling monarch of the continent. With somewhat confused haste, the coppery-faced man heaved his generous girth from his bed, twisting about for the chest of drawers beside it, through which he rummaged for the first outfit he could find. Whipping on faded black pants and an ivory tunic with burgundy red embroidery, he then snatched the first sash from a rack atop the dresser with little regard to whether it matched the rest of the ensemble.
--------OH MAN HAVE SOME MORE LOL--------
There were few things the man could think of that would warrant such an ominous order. None of them were good.
Cramming his feet into an old pair of boots, he then shuffled out of his room, across his home, and made for the front door. There he paused, turned around; a long look was cast back at the embodiment of his life over the past millennia. A few chairs, a small piano, end tables, a dining table, and a mantle overhead lined with small figures and paintings of three different women. A sneaking, sinking suspicion told from the back of his mind that he would never see any of it again. A voiceless sigh puffed from his nose, and with immense reluctance he turned back around to open the door.
Barely one foot made it past the threshold before the husky man whirled around with the same suddenness as if he were fiercely struck in the face. His hip creaked angrily in protest, but he gave naught but a faint grimace to the shooting pain as he raced back across the house and once more to his bedroom. Stomping to a turning halt before the chest of drawers, he shot a hand back for the rack from which he’d taken his sash, this time snatching a chain and pendant and a pair of bangles, before he once again rushed whence he came.
----------WHOOPS AND SOME MORE LOLOL----------
Barreling out of the house, he made no effort to shut the door behind him. What purpose would there be for it? To prevent passing miscreants from stealing? If anyone got any good use out of his possessions before everything burned, then by all means they could help themselves. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he hadn’t the energy to worry about things that were largely inconsequential while his life was at stake. Would he get a chance to return? He didn’t know. As the thought crossed his mind, he came to a skidding halt and took a moment to look around. He was the only one running.
Dark brows furrowed over faded willow eyes as he scanned the vicinity. Indeed, there was some increased foot traffic on the village roads, but most of the people moving about were either unperturbed by the warning, hadn’t heard it, or were confused. Frowning, the coppery-skinned man looked up into a clear morning sky, and in the moment he spent tying his hair back with an elastic band from his wrist, his eyes gravitated further past the moons, and then he blanched.
At that instant, as he caught sight of a bright and deceptively star-like pinpoint far above the sky, the very depth of the cataclysm about to befall the world struck him. The warm colors of the sunrise turned abruptly baleful, a sinister prediction of the bleak future to come. As his mind struggled desperately to wrap about the new fate of the ecosphere, white-hot talons of dread gripped his stomach with a fierce and wrenching twist. Though he had naturally entertained the thought in fleeting moments of the past, this was not his idea of effective population control. Wieraiden was going to die.
