Ardent Dawn
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I'm interested - I'm looking forwards to seeing how this plays out :)
Interested, with a strong preference for the first :)
Are we likely to have any Puppeteer NPCs in the near future? The current ones are outnumbered over 4-to-1 and I'd prefer for Donovan and Sickle-Cell not to be shadow-boxing with characters that we've both written.
@Minder - What sort of stressful situations could potentially leave Erika open to becoming a Doll Master without necessarily involving combat? She'll need something to propel her into the main story later on, but every character should have a reason that you want to write them - just extrapolate onwards from there.
Carmel
A bittersweet smile tugged at Carmel’s lips. Breaking such innocence felt like a desecration, but it wasn't as though there was any reasonable alternative. “I'm afraid that, as of five or so minutes ago, you aren’t the person you thought you were,” she said wistfully. Securing her mental grasp, Carmel began to draw a thin pillar of concrete from the ground, ensuring the flow remained slow and steady rather than offering the child any cause for concern. Plain geometric shapes were the easiest to form - the simpler, the better - but her Doll Master needed to understand. Within a few moments, the pillar had sculpted itself into series of interwoven vines, with minuscule flowers continuing to blossom from its length as she spoke.
“A Doll Master isn’t something you choose to become,” Carmel explained, “although whether you choose to remain so depends on how safe you feel in this world.” She gestured broadly towards the unconscious man that lay collapsed on the pavement behind them. “They are individuals who have been singled out by a Doll such as myself for protection, and if you encounter any more creatures like our companion here, you may prove extremely grateful that I have.” Despite herself, she almost pitied him. So many people wore their ignorance like a blanket; insulated from the monsters in the darkness, with a similarly negligible amount of protection from them. And as much as she could shelter others from the cold reality, the one person she could never swaddle from reality was the one who mattered most. Suppressing the twinge of regret, Carmel offered her hand out for the child. “My name is Carmel,” she smiled gently. “How should I address you, young sir?”
It’s an unforgivable cruelty, but how could he survive without me?
A bittersweet smile tugged at Carmel’s lips. Breaking such innocence felt like a desecration, but it wasn't as though there was any reasonable alternative. “I'm afraid that, as of five or so minutes ago, you aren’t the person you thought you were,” she said wistfully. Securing her mental grasp, Carmel began to draw a thin pillar of concrete from the ground, ensuring the flow remained slow and steady rather than offering the child any cause for concern. Plain geometric shapes were the easiest to form - the simpler, the better - but her Doll Master needed to understand. Within a few moments, the pillar had sculpted itself into series of interwoven vines, with minuscule flowers continuing to blossom from its length as she spoke.
“A Doll Master isn’t something you choose to become,” Carmel explained, “although whether you choose to remain so depends on how safe you feel in this world.” She gestured broadly towards the unconscious man that lay collapsed on the pavement behind them. “They are individuals who have been singled out by a Doll such as myself for protection, and if you encounter any more creatures like our companion here, you may prove extremely grateful that I have.” Despite herself, she almost pitied him. So many people wore their ignorance like a blanket; insulated from the monsters in the darkness, with a similarly negligible amount of protection from them. And as much as she could shelter others from the cold reality, the one person she could never swaddle from reality was the one who mattered most. Suppressing the twinge of regret, Carmel offered her hand out for the child. “My name is Carmel,” she smiled gently. “How should I address you, young sir?”
It’s an unforgivable cruelty, but how could he survive without me?
Would it be possible to delete this double post for me?
Carmel
“Wait here a moment, Doll Master,”, she spoke gently, letting a note of affection slip into her voice. “I need to finish tidying up.”
As his lips quivered slightly, Carmel felt her heart catch once again in her chest. Such a young, fragile creature; once there was time, she could attend to his shaken nerves. But now was not such a time. With a spark of fury at the assailant’s actions smouldering in her chest, she turned and strode towards the sinkhole. WIth every step, she could feel her awareness of the pavement’s potential shapes waxing and waning; she could only seize onto a single image while she remained fully rooted to the pavement. Not that she had intended to be giving any ground.
With a light hop, Carmel plunged into the sinkhole, air whistling in her ears as she dropped some six or seven feet into the earth. Beneath her, the Puppeteer rolled frantically, barely dodging her feet as she slammed to the floor; as she regained her balance, he spat a globule of blood to one side. They both glared silently at each other for several moments, scrutinizing each other for the first time since the fight began. The Puppeteer’s whites were tinged crimson, as though from burst blood vessels in each eye, and small nubs of teeth protruded from his jaw with every sneer.
When Carmel finally spoke, ice could have formed around her words. “Let me make this exceptionally clear,” she whispered. “You can choose to perish swiftly and gently, in which case I pull a well-deserved end to your miserable little mockery of a life. Personally, I prefer the thought of that option.” She leaned in closer. “Or you can attempt to resist until I’ve broken every bone in your body, then re-shattered every fragment under earth and stone until you’re finally ready to die. Which would you prefer?”
With a roar, the Puppeteer hurled itself forwards, fanged exposed and jaws slavering. Sliding sideways across the floor rather than surrender her footing, Carmel pivoted, slamming the flat of her palm into his back and ramming him head-first into the sinkhole wall. Within a few moments of fruitless struggling, concrete cuffs had unfolded from the wall and slowly snaked around his joints, locking him firmly into place. There. Given the choice, she would honestly prefer to finish this without unnecessary bloodshed; every drop she spilled from the host would just become a burden on her conscience later on. Snarling under her breath, she thrust her hand deep into the small of his back, slipping through the man’s spine and ribcage like butter. The creature she tore free wore feral, almost wolf-like features that were shortly crushed between a pair of concrete pillars.
A small plume of light erupted from the Puppeteer's form, drifting up through the concrete and into her body through the soles of her feet. For a split second, her vision swam as the world folded again, just at it had when she arrived - countless images superimposed across the world as clearly as the light of day. Then the moment faded, leaving only silence in its wake. Sighing in mingled relief and exhaustion, Carmel reached into her fibres and uncoupled herself from the ‘strain’ of maintaining her image. Almost at once, the ground began to fold back into its original form, releasing the unconscious host from his imprisonment and sluggishly carrying the pair of them back to street level.
“Wait here a moment, Doll Master,”, she spoke gently, letting a note of affection slip into her voice. “I need to finish tidying up.”
As his lips quivered slightly, Carmel felt her heart catch once again in her chest. Such a young, fragile creature; once there was time, she could attend to his shaken nerves. But now was not such a time. With a spark of fury at the assailant’s actions smouldering in her chest, she turned and strode towards the sinkhole. WIth every step, she could feel her awareness of the pavement’s potential shapes waxing and waning; she could only seize onto a single image while she remained fully rooted to the pavement. Not that she had intended to be giving any ground.
With a light hop, Carmel plunged into the sinkhole, air whistling in her ears as she dropped some six or seven feet into the earth. Beneath her, the Puppeteer rolled frantically, barely dodging her feet as she slammed to the floor; as she regained her balance, he spat a globule of blood to one side. They both glared silently at each other for several moments, scrutinizing each other for the first time since the fight began. The Puppeteer’s whites were tinged crimson, as though from burst blood vessels in each eye, and small nubs of teeth protruded from his jaw with every sneer.
When Carmel finally spoke, ice could have formed around her words. “Let me make this exceptionally clear,” she whispered. “You can choose to perish swiftly and gently, in which case I pull a well-deserved end to your miserable little mockery of a life. Personally, I prefer the thought of that option.” She leaned in closer. “Or you can attempt to resist until I’ve broken every bone in your body, then re-shattered every fragment under earth and stone until you’re finally ready to die. Which would you prefer?”
With a roar, the Puppeteer hurled itself forwards, fanged exposed and jaws slavering. Sliding sideways across the floor rather than surrender her footing, Carmel pivoted, slamming the flat of her palm into his back and ramming him head-first into the sinkhole wall. Within a few moments of fruitless struggling, concrete cuffs had unfolded from the wall and slowly snaked around his joints, locking him firmly into place. There. Given the choice, she would honestly prefer to finish this without unnecessary bloodshed; every drop she spilled from the host would just become a burden on her conscience later on. Snarling under her breath, she thrust her hand deep into the small of his back, slipping through the man’s spine and ribcage like butter. The creature she tore free wore feral, almost wolf-like features that were shortly crushed between a pair of concrete pillars.
A small plume of light erupted from the Puppeteer's form, drifting up through the concrete and into her body through the soles of her feet. For a split second, her vision swam as the world folded again, just at it had when she arrived - countless images superimposed across the world as clearly as the light of day. Then the moment faded, leaving only silence in its wake. Sighing in mingled relief and exhaustion, Carmel reached into her fibres and uncoupled herself from the ‘strain’ of maintaining her image. Almost at once, the ground began to fold back into its original form, releasing the unconscious host from his imprisonment and sluggishly carrying the pair of them back to street level.
@Ddblade - Yeah, I'm cool with that. I'll happily take any PMs about Worm, though - I've never met someone who's read it before that I haven't personally introduced to the series :P
D&D are easily the most heart-warming part of the story- they just work so well together <3 My heart still goes out completely and utterly to Riley, but Dragon just makes every possible situation awesome - the school scene is easily one of my favourites in the series.
Also, the Simurgh. We shouldn't discount the Simurgh :P
Also, the Simurgh. We shouldn't discount the Simurgh :P
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