#t.o.d.

[ducktopia90264]

Time Squad oc

[omgilostmyshoe]

“all hale the OC’s” time

Finally finished with the main couple from my attempts at a novel I’m working on. Amazing templates for the profiles belong to the gorgeous @cityandking, though I made some minor adjustments to stats and colors. 

More details and lore follows. 

Leanan is currently possessing Ran’s body, while trying to regain his own, so his physical stats refer to the overall skills and their levels from the times when he was more, well, physical, rather then disembodied voice inside somebody’s head. 

Though they technically share everything they experience through the nervous system, they can both block each other out to a degree, choosing what is revealed to the other one. They can also share skills and knowledge through the bond, which is how Ran ended up with rather outdated but still fairly useful Common tongue from Nexus (working name of the world of the story) and Leanan got English so they can talk. The other weird world in Leanan’s proficiencies refer to other languages from Nexus which I’m still working on, and he actually knows a lot more, even though most of them are either pretty much dead or forgotten now, or outdated, or considered ancient and are not used by anybody safe for some scholars.   

Bond mark refers to Leanan technically being a Familiar now, all of which are represented on the bodies of their humans as living marks in various forms. It is believed that the form of the Mark can reveal the nature of the Familiar and there is a lot of superstitions about them. They come in different color and sizes, but all Marks can move along the body of a human according to Familiar’s will, though it is normally isn’t felt by humans themselves in any way, Mark being much like healed tattoo to them. They currently hide Ran’s Mark as much as they can, as it is unheard of on the Nexus to be Awakened (who have their own abilities) and a Familiar (who receive their abilities through the bond) at the same time.

For the backstory, Leanan’s whole deal is a giant spoiler. Ran’s though... For starters, Ran isn’t their real name, is was just the first thing that came to mind when they came to it on the Nexus. They are originally from what essentially our real world in my universe, so no magic or anything, and they were pretty normal, if not majorly depressed person there, before getting sucked into the whole crazy business with portals. Like literally sucked into, through an illegal portal in the secret lab, and through there they ended up on the Nexus, suddenly forced to figure out how to survive in totally different and dangerous environment. This is why their skills are kinda lacking - they never had a need to learn much beyond their profession, since they had all the modern necessities sorted out already. However they’re learning quickly, getting full use of their intellect and reveling in the whole trove of new languages and general knowledge. 

Though Ran is my current go to MC while writing for simlicity sake, I’ll probably figure out more of their variants in the future.        

[omgilostmyshoe]

Writing Challenge Day 6: aftermath

Lungs burning with every labored breath, muscles sore and used, tensing uncontrollably, throat just... numb from all the exhaustion and screaming, yet it is still not over. Battle rages on, and the stench of blood fills your nose in inescapable cloud, fogging your senses. Shake of the head, yet another desperate breath to try to clear it up, you need to concentrate, your friends need you.

So you focus, reaching inside, drenching up every scrap of power, energy you have left to release it in earth shuddering sound wave, trying your best to not think, not count all the people you're hurting, literally breaking their bones... But no, not the time, because as much as you hate the violence, letting them inflict it on your family is way worse, it's worth your agony, worth every tear and pang of guilt. It's probably even worth the deal you made. It should be... It must.

In your scattered state you don't notice the lonely figure that slipped past your defense line. Don't see the shining dully blade in its hand, don't feel the danger now that you alone again and there is no supernatural being in your head to warn you. It doesn't even really hurts the first couple moments as the dagger sinks in you back, boring deeper in the vulnerable flesh, until it does, pain flaring and radiating in scorching ripples across your chest, spine, echoing in your head. It fills you to the brim, and more, and then even further, until you left gasping weakly, collapsing to the ground, and finally -  surrendering to silence...

 ...only to be awakened from the nightmare suddenly, gasping yet again, confused and terrified at how real that felt. But the soft hand soothes its way through your hair, rub gentle circles in the shoulder, massages open tightly clutched fists. You relax, momentarily appeased, still reeling from the dream, but a bit more centered, comforting yourself that it was all it was. If it was a reality, then surely you would be dead and not enjoying this soft caresses from... who was it comforting you? Probably Amarel, always physical, always worrying. Or maybe Gleb, he hated nightmares too. Might as well be Eira even, though she was suspiciously quite in that case, but maybe...

"You really should try to sleep a little bit more, it'll help with the recovery."

But you can't sleep now, drowsiness replaced with dread so fast it can give you an emotional whiplash, because you know that voice, hearing it so many times, so many month, right in your head, instead it rings out tired and worried near your ear.

So eyes snapped open, blinking against semi-darkness of the room illuminated only by fully stocked fireplace, scrambling away, nearly falling off the.... bed?.. You were laying on; you just look. Finally look at the man, committing his features to memory, wishing suddenly yours was as good as his. You wish you could preserve the brief spark of hurt from your movement in dark brown eyes, the angle of the tightly clenched jaw, the hands, twitching as if trying to touch you again. It is gone as soon as it comes though, replaced by collected facade, impassive expression, that you instantly hate so, so much.

But can't do anything to change it. You swore to yourself after all, you already chosen your path, already excepted the deal with the closest thing to a Devil that probably ever existed and there is no way back on that. Even if that thought makes your heart clench painfully, and your hands tremble, and the tears threaten to spill like a river in the spring. But he takes your cues and reads them all wrong, fingers - actual, real fingers strong and positively male - twitching again in clear attempt to reach you.

"Does it hurt? I can renew the healing spells, it would help with the p..."

"No."

The single word falls between you like a wall, or a blade, cutting deeper than the dagger plunged in your back, which apparently did happen... You can feel the subtle throb where it was, dulled by the magic and who knows what else, but that's about it, you don't even feel any blood or stitches, more of a nasty bruise, than a life-threatening injury.

What actually hurts is insistent longing, near damn thirst to touch, to hold, to be closer, closer, closer, to finally feel his warmth and hear him breathe and know, that he's real and here. It hurts, now that it's possible - you can't, not allowed, in some twisted irony of the cruel universe denied by, well, yourself. In the stupid, rash, fucking noble attempt to be a decent human being for once, not the selfish mess of self-pity and helplessness you always were. You hope it worked, at the very least, because just as you suspected, being righteous equals being miserable, but hey, it's all for the greater good, right?..  

Quiet "I'm sorry..." falls from his lips just as the first tear rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another one, and another. You can't stop it, they just come and refuse to stop, just as you refuse to stop looking at him, even if it tears you heart to pieces. Even if it does the same to him. You can see it through the blur of the tears, the haunted look he now wears, the slumped posture, shadows clinging to his back as if answering to his mood. Hell, they probably are, his power is restored to full now, he can do whatever he wants now.

Well, almost whatever...

You don't know how much time passes until your tears dry out, leaving pathetic hiccups in their wake first, and only exhausted misery later. He doesn't move from his spot in the foot of the bed, and you don't lower your eyes, still locked on this vision of your heaven and hell rolled in one single being. Finally, the sleep claims you, drags back into thankfully dreamless abyss, and on the verge of falling into it completely you fell gentle arms around you again.

You allow yourself to cuddle closer this time, appeasing screaming conscience that you can't control it, when you're so sleepy, it's just instinct.

It doesn't really convince you.

You don't really care either, because as you drift off, you feel a barely there, soft and loving, bittersweet kiss on the corner of your mouth and can't help, but

smile.

[omgilostmyshoe]

Writing Challenge Day 5: this road

"Nope, that's it. I can't do this anymore, I give up. No. More."

To further accentuate my point I flopped on the nearest big enough root sticking out of the ground and nearly moaned with relief just not to be vertical anymore.

"You're okay, Ran?!" - of course Amarel was first by my side, all worried and beginning to fuss over me immediately. Very soon out whole company stopped, converging around me in an half concerned, half exasperated circle.  

"Oh, I'm just golden!" - sarcasm was strong in me today. "If only you forget about my legs pretty much falling off from all the damn walking! Actually, they might as well, I doubt I'll be able to tell the difference, they're so numb..."

"...Seriously? That's why we're stopping? Now you can't even walk?" - incredulity in Mstislav voice was very seriously grating on my already frayed nerves, so I just... Unloaded. Loudly.

"Well excuse me for not being blessed with enhanced strength, or stamina, or invulnerability, and, you know, being weak city raised human! Just so you know, there is such thing as proper means of transportation in my dimension! We don't have to always walk fucking everywhere and!.."

"Ran!" - cool hand on my trembling shoulder snapped me from my rant, but I batted it away, not particularly appreciating the specific brand of Amarel's comfort at the moment. And not wanting anyone to notice the frustrated tears in my eyes, but hey, I was that tired of all the damned walking.

"I'm fine... Just... Really, can't we get a mount or something, if you people can't invent cars? Like clearly, the horses are useless on this particular stretch of nearly impassible wilderness, but surely there is something... else.... we can think of..."

While trying to get a little bit of space, I slid down the root further from barely discernible path, now facing the thick forest around us, and my eyes were roaming distractedly over the mind bogglingly thick trees with intricate foliage, the weirdly colored bushes, and, apparently the pair of very horse-like hooves... Which were attached to muscled dirty-brown horse-like legs, which in turn originated from a... not very, but still, himan-ish torso. Of somebody. Who was half-horse, half...

"Hey, why nobody said there are centaurs here?... Like... That's something you should mention, guys. In advance. Before one just comes up to us. Soundlessly. Hi there, by the way!"

I weakly waved to the creature, trying to discern his... hers? Their intentions, but the expression on the deep-green face remained passive, even when our resident shifters finally caught onto the presence of the intruder and Mstislav growled menacingly, quickly moving to stand beside me with his weapons drawn. But the centaur was motionless still, and I took a moment to actually look at him - I was fairly certain it was male, at least going from the massive branching horns on his head and general physic. His skin, on both half's of his body, was nearly indistinguishable in shades from the scenery surrounding us, which kind of explained why we haven't noticed him before. I gathered that his scent was also so akin to the nature that shifters simply didn't picked up on it. It fit, with literal little branches with leafs growing from the shoulders of the creature, and his eyes dimly glowing greenish yellow, just like fireflies.

My reverie was interrupted by half transparent shield going up between us and a centaur, and I quickly turned around, finally noticing his brethren quietly emerging from the forest and my companions tensing more and more, while assuming fighting stances. "We're surrounded. Anybody got a plan? I don't think I can actually influence them, they don't even feel very much alive to me," - Amarel nervously stepped closer to Atarah, covering his sister back, while she concentrated on maintaining the shield. Gleb was already disrobing hurriedly, no doubt wanting to shift in his much more powerful lynx form, and Eira shifted restlessly behind the curtain of the umbrella, not being able to do much at all, with the sun still so high, only keeping close to Kaiwen, probably to watch her back should anything happen.

But me... I was weirdly calm. To be honest, beyond the initial startle the centaur gave me, I haven't felt any threat from them, not even now, while they clearly outnumbered us. Even more so, Leanan was quiet and very much not warning me of the potential dangers, so... Not really afraid, I finally stood, wincing briefly from the pain in tired muscles, but still walked to the wall now separating us, smiling, when centaur I saw first did the same. He cocked his head to the side, face shifting in the somewhat puzzled expression when I pressed my palm to the shield, but couple seconds later, he returned the gesture, even going as far as ducking his head down to meet my eyes on the same level.

"Atarah... Lift the shield. I'm pretty sure they're here to help."  

[omgilostmyshoe]

Writing Challenge Day 4: mirror

TW: not very detailed, but still a description of body dysphoria. 

Gods, why it had to be so cold all the time? I really needed to invest in some sweaters, and warm socks, and probably a fluffiest, thickest coat I could find. On second thought, no fluff, it's probably made of actual animals here, and that if I was lucky those animals didn't talk at some point in time.

And I really needed to get up off the ice cold floor. "All very good points, darling, I would give you a pat on the head for them, but that would look weird and we have rather unpleasant company at the moment", - and as if heard Leanan, the creepiest laugh of all the laughs rattled around me, bouncing off the walls in sinister echo. Definitely a good queue to get moving and not being a glaringly helpless danger bait, chilling on the... literal ice?

No wonder that the floor felt so cold I mused, catching my reflection in glassy surface stretching as far as I could see. Which was not very far, room I woke up in was barely three meters from wall to wall. And those were also made of shiny reflective ice, making me think of the disturbing - and frigid - labyrinths of warped mirrors that were popular in fairs and amusement parks. "Your people go to them for fun? Truly? I will never understand humans..." - said Leanan, emphasizing his bewilderment with a dramatic sigh, but I just snorted, not even thinking of arguing. "You and me both, buddy, you and me both... This one though is especially creepy. Let's find what we need and get out. Fast."

That was obviously easier said than done. My first guess about a labyrinth was unhelpfully accurate one, and with no real way to tell one corridor from the other with them being virtually identical I just knew I was getting horribly lost. On occasion that sinister laughter echoed again, sometimes closer or further away, taunting me, but otherwise there was no sound, no reply to my calls for the twins or our new companions.

The chill coming from the walls and the floor in waves seemed to seep right into my bones and thoughts, and probably fogging my eyesight or maybe the mirrors themselves, because I kept catching something wrong in the reflections more and more with everyone I passed. My hair, or height, or figure, my posture, or walk... It was distorting and swaying, and there it is, that damned laugh again!

"Oh, would you come out already?! What's so fucking funny?!"

I snapped and Leanan tsked disapprovingly, but at least that frankly terrifying cackling stopped, almost as if clipped, it was so sudden. Instead, insinuating but somehow off-putting voice from behind ringed out, startling me, - "You, of course, little one. You are funny."

I swirled to see, to fight, but there was only my reflection, or, well, reflections - multiple, but one of them, at the corner of my eye smiled at me, vicious and hateful only to melt to my frightened expression the second I turned to it fully. And then it was like the witch decided to crank this twisted game up a notch or more like eleven notches, and everywhere I looked, but always just out of reach, my own face kept smirking at me, or laughing, or sneering in disgust. And sometimes it wasn't even my face I kept seeing.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire...." - the voice sing-songed, but this time it was not the voice of the witch. It was female still, but the sound of it cut deeper than any insult she could've ever thrown at me. Because that voice was mine. It was weird, listening it from outside perspective, like in the echo on the phone or a recording, but it was even worse because of it - disconnected and wrong and embarrassing. "You're so funny, little girl, thinking you're fooling anybody with your lies."

This time I caught the source of the sound, caught the reflection... Mine. Of course it was mine, there was nobody else here, nobody beside me, as always, and... "Hey, there, darling, let's not panic too much, shall we? I am still here and definitely not a nobody".

But Leanan's words quickly got drowned by the rush of blood in my ears, and even more so when I took in the sight in the next mirror I stumbled to on shaking legs. No. No. No, no, no...

It was beating in my head on repeat, but the reflection did not lie, it couldn't, right? It was true, just as it was all the years before. There I was, looking at myself with terror-stricken face, which was just like it always was. All narrow and elegant and female. I could see the little wrinkles on my eyelids - the first ones to appear, and that disgustingly boring hair color again, and marks on the cheeks that never healed properly, and my body was...

There was a chocked sobbing sound and I realized it was me making it, but the reflection didn't show fear anymore, it formed in disinterested examination, only to switch again - disgusted smirk now.

So I ran. It was pure instinct - and where it came down to it, I always chose flight instead of fight, every single time. Running from my problems, from my parents, from my friends and school, from myself... Always easier than to face it, is it, no matter how much it hurt in the end. Because it did, but right now, the taunting, distorting visions still beckoning me from every mirror hurt so much more. I couldn't breathe, couldn't cry, only run and run and run in futile hope to find an end to this nightmare, or at least a moment of quiet, to reassure myself it wasn't true, I was still how I was supposed to be, and not how I had a misfortune of being born.

Truthfully, it was a miracle I made it this far without slipping, when my trembling legs finally gave out on me and I crumpled on the floor in a sobbing heap. I didn't care, didn't even really registered the sharp pain in my wrists when I landed, just wanted the tormenting me voices to stop their incessant attacks. "Stop, please stop!.." - I begged and begged, but there was only more insults, how I'm a liar, a pretender, out for attention, weak and pathetic, aren't worse the air I breath, and... - "STOP!"

My voice ringed out with desperate power and suddenly there was only blissful, sweet silence. It enveloped me like a safe blanket - warm and comforting, drawing more shuddering breath out of me, while I tried to collect my scattering thoughts. As if through some thick fog I heard Leanan, panicked and almost yelling by the time I was able to acknowledge him again. "Oh, thank Spirits! Don't speak, darling. Just concentrate on breathing for now. I tried snapping you out of it, but the enchantment is too strong for me, I'm sorry. Even your rather ingenious silence bubble or whatever you wish to call it will not last long, you'll have to get out of here quickly."

With every second passing, my panicked frenzy slowly abated, revealing more and more pain and strains my body sustained. A rather pitiful and unsuccessful attempt at moving my right wrist made me almost certain it was broken - it felt like somebody was ripping it off when I tried to change positions. However the silence was still there and it was more now, not just calming, but... energizing. An unfamiliar, indescribable sensation of something flowing through me, in me, reassuring and empowering, enough for a shaky and sluggish, but a assent nonetheless.

The countless jabs and insults were still fresh in my memory, but relentless encouraging banter from Leanan was going and going and kept it at bay, at least for now, and also thankfully prevented me from walking into walls with timely directions. Apparently the whole horror show was an elaborate security enchantment, meant to drive intruders insane with their worst fears projected through mirrors - an ingenious idea for sure, one I would be even more impressed by if it wasn't just used on me. "Silence bubble" - totally coming up with a better name for it when I have the time - was currently shielding me from the worst of it, effectively cutting off, no, devouring even all the sounds around me. Keeping eyes closed on the other hand canceled out the visual component. "Our only grace in all of this is the fact, that such powerful magics require immense amounts of power, so nobody can keep it up for long, and once broken, they take time to regenerate. And while you were... distracted, I was able to map out our corner of this wretched place. A little further and we should either get out entirely or find another section."

Leanan kept chatting, now, that I was a little more sane switching to more pressing issues. Like finding our friends and hopefully saving them before they lose their minds completely. "That is the plan, darling, so keep walking. I really hate to harry you right now, but the time is of the essence..." - it was like accursed spell has heard him, because there it was again - a barely there murmur in my ear, indecipherable for now, but gaining in volume. The cold, that I almost forgot at this point was returning  along with it, but I refused to slow my steps, jogging with eyes shut tight, praying that the only voice I wanted to hear right now - my resident ghost' one - will not lead me astray...

And then it was suddenly gone - the pressure in my head, the freezing chill, the tormenting whispers - all of it. Almost like a string snapping the enchantment was clearly gone, and with it went my barely holding bubble. But now it would have been more of hindrance than anything, I needed to hear to find my friends. I had to be there for them, to manage it somehow - through the fear still thundering in my veins, through the pain and anxiety. Just this ones... I had to fight.

[omgilostmyshoe]

Writing Challenge Day 3: faces in the street

It was rather disconcerting - waking up from shivering too hard. My first impulse was to shrink into myself more, trying to preserve any shred of warmth I could, but there was no room with how tight of a ball I already curled into. So moving it was and literal snow falling from my skin and clothes was very, very disconcerting. It meant I was not moving for quite some time now and that snowfall around me was there all this time with no intention of easing up, if the thick clouds covering the sky were any indication.

The conciseness was coming back to me in pieces, with overwhelming cold being front and center, but as moments passed, I could feel the throbbing in the back of my head - probably where I got knocked out. After which I was apparently put in a cage..? Sturdy wooden beams interwoven with thick ropes were all around me, only the floor of the cage was made out of solid planks with no spaces between them, for which I was grateful in that particular moment. Trying to sit comfortably on even closely spaced branches was not my idea of fun. But why the cage..? Who put me there? Where are Atorah, Amarel?!

Worry surged stronger inside me, as understanding of the situation slowly crept up on me, and I probably made some kind of noise, or moved too much, because there was rather real-life growl behind me - menacing and absolutely terrifying. And no, I was not embarrassed of my horrified shriek, for when I turned around, there was a wolf  - stalking close to the bars of the cage, continuing growling and leveling me with the threatening stare of shining golden eyes.  My frantic scrambling to get as far away as possible weirdly shook the cage, and my foggy from the cold brain finally caught up on the fact that it was moving - pulled along by rather impressively massive horse, which didn't seem to be even slightly unnerved about a presence of a predator...  Scratch that, multiple predators, because now that I was looking, there were at least five wolfs around, stretched out around a procession made out of three cages including mine and a couple more carts, loaded with what looked to be dead birds and... a... deer? A dead deer. With bite marks on his slumped neck and unmoving dead eyes that stared right at me, making a wave of nausea rise in my throat.

It was the silence in my head that really got me panicking though, because that was the moment where Leanan usually piped up with some ridiculous comment, or a lame joke, or reference to things I didn't know, but he comforted me nonetheless. But not now, and only my own anxiety and shuddering breaths were running through my head, no ghosts of any kind. He didn't just.. leave, right? He couldn't. He wouldn't. He promised and I believed him despite everything, but now there was a cage around me - again - and he was nowhere to be found.

"Need to get out of here" - was flashing in my head over and over, get out, grab the twins, whom I noticed in other cages and run, run as fast as I could, as far as I would manage. Preferably avoiding becoming a wolf snack in the process. So I breathed deep, just like I practiced, trying to feel out that elusive feeling in the core of my being, where magic apparently resided, and then shouted at the bars.

Then there were several things happening at once. The wolf barked angrily and stalked even closer to the cage - a clear warning. Atarah stirred, awoken by all the noises and her sluggish movements were at least undeniable proof that she was alive. The bars also stayed exactly as they were - solid and slightly swaying with the motion of the horse's stride. Not only Leanan - my powers were gone, or... Blocked? There was also a burning sensation around my neck, now slowly fading, and quick inspection showed that somebody put some kind of metal collar on me while I was unconscious.

"Atarah, you're okay there? Is Amarel?..." - apparently talking really was on the wolfs "no-no" list because not only the closest to me one growled, but those closer to the other cages as well. Atarah did nodded though and shot me a weak smile, while checking her neck as well, and damn, she had a collar too. No escaping that way then. It was still a mystery as to who put them there, it couldn't very well be the wolfs since those didn't have necessary fine motor control, or hands, or, you know, enough intelligence for that.  Right?...

That was also when Leanan would've loved to rant about all the things I always got wrong in this world, but there was still silence. At least inside my head, as our surroundings were actually startingto fill with some noises beside rustling of the trees and squeaking of the snow under the wheels of the carts. No, that was closer to a... City? A slamming of doors, tramping of many feet, occasional cling of coins and some other ambient sounds, but weirdly something was glaringly missing. "Talking. Why nobody is talking?" - bewildered I was trying to look ahead, to check if it was an actual city and not my imagination or possibly hypothermia induced hallucination. But no, that was a city, alright, even if it was guarded by even more wolfs, who checked out all the cages and the carts and definitely greeted the wolfs escorting us... And what was even weirder - no one person on fairly bustling streets freaked out even a little bit over a fact that actual wild animals were walking right next to them, next to their children, one of which even gave a wolf in the head of our column a freaking petting. And the wolf let him, wagging his tale a bit, before becoming all focused and menacing again, when child's mother pulled him away. And then signed to him with practice and precision which spoke of life-long use of the language, - "You shouldn't distract Protectors while they work, sweety, remember?"

And the child answered signing as well, and now that I was looking, everybody around were using only sign language. Not one word was spoken aloud... Which was freaky, and weird, and even weirder that they used the version of the language that I understood, which was my native one, and looking closer now...

Not only language. Architecture, clothing, even paintings on some tableware of some street store were achingly familiar and definitely not supposed to be in another dimension for god's sake. And the faces. The faces, and the hair, and skin tones, everything about people here hit too close to home, looked too close to home, but also wasn't? More like somebody just dumped me through a time-machine in the addition to a portal and now I was in some kind of twisted version of ancient Russia. With wolfs freely roaming the streets. And nobody talking with their voices.

"What the actual hell is going on?..." - helpless and confused I said, and even with how quiet it was, everybody just turned to me like snapped on some invisible strings. Some looked with honest hatred, so visceral, it hurt, just like it hurt in school so many years ago, with people laughing at me and... Not the time for that trip on the memory lane, not the time. Because there were curious glances as well, and some jealous, and some finger pointing too. And fear. And even literal hiding of children in the houses, like I was some kind of monster trying to hurt them, which was ridiculous - I was in the cage, and collared, and powerless, and didn't even want to hurt anybody, not to mention children.

But there was clearly something going on that I didn't know, and that something was probably the reason why the twins were so reluctant to go even near the woods, even to escape and run for their lives with no other options available. That was also something they will need to work on - sharing of all the information, so I didn't have to sit in the still present and biting cold and guess on what was happening and if I will actually have a chance to grill the wonder couple about anything. "Just hold on... Hold on and don't forget to seize the moment when it comes. There will be time for yelling on them. There have to be."

[omgilostmyshoe]

Writing Challenge Day 2: an open door

Of all the things my parents taught me... Don't talk to strangers. Always ask who it is before opening the door. Wear hats in winter. Depend only on yourself, because even those who are supposed to protect you won't bother actually doing it. They really should have stressed "Mind your own business! " some more.  Like tattooing it on my forehead or something... Because I clearly never learned that lesson. Never could just close my eyes and go the other way, just had to stick my nose in everything, make it right, make it... just. Little did I know that there is no justice.

There is pain, however, and regrets, and unavoidable consequences. And now all of those have decided to catch up with me in one go, for I failed in the most important lesson yet again. I should have just kept walking, should have pretended I didn't see that weird light coming out of the supposedly closed lab. How many movies did I see and ranted about stupid heroes who just walk right into trouble because they're curious? Apparently not enough, since I went and did the exact same thing when it came down to it. I saw the light. And I heard a voice... Calling me. There were no words, nor even a sound that I could perceive with my ears, but I just knew somebody called me. It was like I was a kid, the same feeling of phantom need to turn around for somebody's call and never finding anyone there. Only shivers of dread crawling down my spine that I chased away with everything I could think of.

But now there were no distractions and no escape. The call in my head was too strong, too enchanting, too... familiar, and I didn't want to resist. Truthfully, I think I did watch enough movies after all. I knew the danger and I walked straight into it, because it really couldn't be worse that what I had now.

But you should never say never, because fate will surely jump at the opportunity to prove you wrong in the most spectacular way imaginable. In my case - throwing me head first in the menacingly glowing vortex of pulsing energy, or to be more specific, getting me sucked into one by mysterious force which came as a surprise to everyone in attendance, including scientists working on the damn thing. But there was no time to react, not even enough time to properly get scared, as my body hit glittering surface and... went right through it.

The feeling was so extremely foreign and jarring, that I believe I passed out for a while. There was no actual pain that I felt, but distinct and overwhelming sense of wrongness, while my body slowly disintegrated before my eyes. And then my eyes disintegrated too. And probably my brain, which should have been the end of it... but it wasn't. I came to not so long after, as far as I could tell. It was rather confusing, as there was no "Me" at all anymore. Only thoughts in everlasting darkness or maybe it wasn't dark at all, how could I tell for sure without eyes? On reflex I tried to move, to scream, to do anything.

But there was only darkness. Panic muddled the next few... hours? Minutes? Days? Time was meaningless in this Void, only my increasingly hysteric thoughts running around in circles were my company and reference points. Which obviously didn't do me any good...  Or did anything at all.

Or did it?...

It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but I could swear, I "saw" movement just now. That is granted that I could actually see and wasn't going completely insane. Or was already. But hey, nothing to lose in that case. So I watched and hoped and tried to shout for help, until...

I was standing on the floor. Still darkness all around, but I could feel my body, or parts of it. It was strange and disjointed, like I was some half assembled doll, barely holding upright. But I stood and felt and that alone made me almost cry for joy.

"No, no, let's save the tears for when we actually get out of here, shall we, darling?"

And that were first words I ever heard from Leanan, not counting his "calls" for me. He went on then, counseling me through my panic and my rage, my despair and unbelief. He soothed and laughed and made me laugh along, and finally, he convinced.

It wasn't all that hard either. Being trapped in this... nothingness was my worst nightmare after all. That was exactly what I was afraid of, no end, but eternal suffering, why I never...

But it was a mute point now.

Now I had a choice.

A deal to make.

An open door.

Cloaked in darkness still, but as I felt an unfamiliar mind wrapping around me, so close, that I felt, as I knew him not all my life, but for all the time of this word...

Light. Fighting through a tiniest crack at the bottom of the nonexistent floor, and as I reached out, getting bigger, stronger, filling my vision with radiating glow and returning the pain and the wrongness and finally...

"Breath... Breath, my darling. You did it. You actually did it!..

We...

are.....

free......"

 The door of the cell located in unreachable timeless Limbo was wide open. The prisoner - or rather escapee right now, was ready to scream in delight, or dance, or maybe cry out of shear relief. But that could wait. His new... host was resting, lying limp and unmoving on the patch of miraculously preserved grass. To the outside perspective they could have looked dead, but Leanan could feel the slow breaths, feeling his... no, their chest rising and falling. They were breathing. They were alive. They were free.

And soon - everybody else will pay for what has been done.

He has waited enough.

The door will always remain open.

[omgilostmyshoe]

Writing Challenge Day 1: things we carry

I never thought about it, being the ever city-living person, but there's really not that much stuff you can bring when you're travelling on foot through the countryside. Sure, we have mounts, but their bags are filled with useful things, things that we all use - tents and blankets, pots and pans, food and other necessities. What's personal, what's just yours - for that there's so little space and even less energy to carry, for me anyway, as pretty much the only one not used to constant walking through wilderness or some other physical activity.

So, as our unlikely company packs for the road in the morning, I get to watch others, noticing their personal touches to our burden sometimes with no actual effort for it.

Like with Mstislav,  because his only personal belongings seem to include the clothes he's got on him and his weapons - giant spear with wide head, reminiscing in shape of birch's leaf, and tear-shaped shield with bright markings of his tribe.  Both of them are in pristine condition, despite me knowing for a fact, that they are used quit often. But there's a reason for that - in his little ritual that imposing warrior dutifully performs every morning and evening. Even now I can hear it - rhythmic whine and grind of the sharpening stone on the metal edge. They're always the same pattern, the same speed, like it's done by some machine and not a live person. But in this times where everything around me turns upside down every other day that consistency is soothing, promising at least a piece of normalcy, something that'll be there, even if everything goes to hell.

If I listen carefully, there's also another sound that just as consistent. A quiet rustle of pages of the book turning - that's Atarah, who somehow manages to log on her fragile frame am impressive amount of tomes, that she reads every chance she gets. Honestly, I'm half convinced that she uses magic to be able to even walk with all that weight, but she just threw me silent and unimpressed look when I asked.  

Amarel however was quick to jump into conversation, proudly announcing that his medicinal bag is most definitely magic - a complex weave of enchantments, creating basically a pocket dimension with plenty of space and many compartments, each with its own temperature and humidity, preserving various herbs and elixirs that he made in perfect condition. He's face was practically glowing with pride, wide smile so infectious, even with inhuman fangs glinting in the evening sun, and I couldn't help but laugh then. Right now though I can see his long fingers deftly and gently sorting through a bouquet oh half dried stems of some flowers, collecting already dry buds and checking on those that aren't yet how he wants them to. There's no smile on his beautiful face, but rather uncharacteristic focused frown, that reminds me - he's not just all bubbly flirtations and easygoing jokes. There's depth,  and intellect, and suffering that he went through to gain the skills he has.

Speaking of suffering... the sick crunch of rearranging bones, accompanied by more wet thumps of muscles and skin taking their place catches my attention. It's Gleb of course, returning from his usual walk slash patrol in his animal form. He still spends most of his time just as he used to when under the curse - as a silver-furred lynx, even though being free to turn human anytime he wants now. But at least he always eats breakfast with all of us, though almost never speaking, just smiling softly and sometimes signing something to Mstislav. His necklace glints in the morning sun proudly, signaling to all the world about the lineage of the wearer, but I know, that it's as much a collar, as the source of comfort and a sign of belonging. So I greet Gleb as cheerfully as I can, giggling at his startled reaction, and feeling a lot warmer when he actually returns the greeting with that raspy quiet voice of his, instead of resorting to sign language or simply a smile.

"And where is my greeting, human? Or are you courteous only to this... warm-skins?", - high pitched female voice cuts through the sleepy quiet, arrogant, but still captivating with it's unnaturally melodic modulations. "Of course not, Kaiwen. Good morning to you too! Did you sleep well?" I get an indulgent nod for my troubles, as elegant naiad practically glides across the little clearing where we camped for the night. Faint smell of salt, seaweed and some fleeting  floral aroma follows her, just as always, and I notice a tear on the hem of her rich red dress, a broken branch in the golden tiara adorning intricate hairstyle - the little, but regretful signs that even she, as infallible as she likes to pretend to look, is not immune to hardships of travel.

"Not the red, NOT THE RED!", - a sudden shout, followed by a mini explosion is probably strange, but not so unexpected sign of the last member of our little company waking.  Eira practically shoots out of the ground, jerking upright with a dazed expression on her purple face - she often has nightmares when sleeping with the sun so high, a side effect of being undead. I put prepared beforehand bucket of fresh water and a cloth closer so she can clean up, making sure it is fully under the shade of the impressive umbrella currently standing over her shallow grave-bed. It's dark ribbon tendrils of heavy fabric cover what wide dome can't manage to, so that our not so alive companion doesn't get too much sun exposure. Slightly more awake, she sends me a tight, but grateful smile, starting her morning rituals of digging herself out and washing away the dirt and the soil in the preparation for the day ahead. Thankfully for her, Eira's supernatural strength allows her carry her rather weighty umbrella with such ease, that she often ends up helping out with the supplies of others. Or, well, even carrying said others themselves, depending on the day.  

Me though... My burden is not so easy to describe and impossible to get rid of. "Oh? Come on, darling, why would you want to "get rid of me" as you so kindly put it? Don't you enjoy my company? We are getting along rather nicely, if I may say so myself". Disembodied and annoyingly teasing voice rings out in my head, cutting through the mindless chatter of my mind, and I sigh, not bothering with an answer. Leanan - the mystery man, whose consciousness and life essence are currently attached to my soul - can very well read it in my brain, if he's so interested in my idle thoughts. He is after all the only thing that could be called "mine" in this world that I ended up, as fumbling through an intro dimensional portal isn't very conductive to retaining one's personal belongings. So, all I have are snarky ghost (possibly dangerous and/or lying his virtual ass off about everything including himself), clothes on my rather battered person (not really mine - some borrowed and some plain stolen in the cities we passed through) and my memories - all that's left of my home, my former life and the reasons that led me to this very moment.

But thinking about those will bring nothing but pain and possible relapse of depression, so I better snap out of it and maybe go talk to somebody if only to distract myself.