Keplo

Lantern

As the horrific, all consuming pain invaded his every fiber and very soul, the knight unleashed an agonizing roar. No matter how loud and earth shattering his scream, it was unable to match the lantern's punishment. There followed a metallic taste as he was certain his vocal cords hadn't been able withstand the strain, but his throat was the least of his worries.

Over almost as quick as it began, the winds disappeared and the pressure started to dissolve away from his body. Fyair's massive chest heaved, his shaken uneven breath the aftermath of pure and real suffering. He wobbled and wavered, exhausted beyond his limits by the traumatic event. The lids of his glazed eyes felt heavy as darkness closed in around his senses. With the last of his strength he teetered and tottered on his unstable standing before finally giving in as his massive form toppled backwards.

However long he was unconscious, it allowed a minimal amount of regain to bring the mountain back to life. He groaned and grabbed at his temples with one hand. What a pain in the ass. Never again would he make such a rash decision to satisfy his deadly curiosity. Fyair frowned as he glanced the skin of his hand and down to his wrist and forearm where he glared at the hidden scales. "What on earth?" He flexed his fingers and muscles, watching intensely as the odd things rippled beneath the surface. His head and hand fell to the side with an agitated sigh. Perhaps he deserved to be trapped in this strange forest--deserved to be assigned to this odd asylum.

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Instinctually, Fyair crossed his arm over his face managing to shield the majority of the barrage from his eyes, but left the softer areas of his torso fully exposed. Bits of glass sharded pass his outline and stuck into his ribs, forearm, and thighs. There was no time to care for the pain as the mountain struggled to keep himself from collapsing to his knees under the weakened state of the lantern’s effect. The screech tore through his mind and made his nerves numb, radiating from ears to toes. A low rumble bubbled up in his throat and was denied eruption as he choked on his own breath. All around the world seemed to implode, gathering all its fury in on his center of gravity threatening to bring him to earth all the more. The soldier waged a silent war of mental and spiritual tug-of-war. And, perhaps an ounce of regard mixed in for good measure.

The newcomer’s foolish ignorance alerted him to the ripple effect of the lanterns. It hadn’t occured in his original assumptions that the lamps could interact with one another. The idea they were parts of a large being had gone above and beyond his thought process. He gathered enough strength to finally lower his stance only to be overpowered by the fierce colorful winds. What a hassle. What a colossal mess! Suddenly, Fyair became aware of his transformation--feeling a sense of dread overtake him as he slowly became a true mountain. The stone shell was heavier than any natural material and compressed painfully over his mass. When the oddity of an object manifesting in his hand reached his consciousness, it drew the front of his attention. Overwhelming was all too light a term to describe the clash of actions that had exploded from the simple act of smashing a lantern. Focusing on other thing over another was a near impossible task.

Slowly, vague synapses began to bring the man back to mild awareness as he was given a brief opportunity to examine his current state. His eyes grew wide and wild at the sight of his new armored attire. A quiet whisper in the depths of his mind told him to make a choice. To choose which poison best suited his torment. Then the voice came again; much louder like the growl of an animal giving warning before attack. Decide, the idea screamed into his psyche, The dragon… the lightning… Scales or Illusion. Choose. CHOOSE. Fyair’s scrambled thoughts struggled to grasp anything solid or retain the magnitude of the situation. All he wanted was for it to stop. He wanted the madness to dissipate far away and leave him be. Casting away the sword and purple lantern he chose the dragon, with no more reason than he wanted some peace and quiet.

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Will have something in the morning! Or afternoon. Bad sleeping habits.

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-throws around confetti- Let's get this party started!

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@Mokley I'm glad you're always there. <3

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This forest was a madhouse. Day was night, up was down. All things true and all things false.

Fyair heaved a sigh when the young princess dashed from his side and remained steadfast, it was beyond him to play hide and seek. He rubbed the line of his brow back and forth for a moment. Of course he would choose a lunatic to service faithfully. Making a mental note to track the little miss down later, he focused his attention on the crowd of bizzarro strangers. His lips turned up in a high frown as he listened, simply listened. The warrior had no answers, only more questions. The pirate woman respun old tales of too many generations back. And the masked boy just didn't sit right with him--it was possible the eerie voice throwing trick had played a big part of that decision. Although, NO ONE had real answers. If one person said something, another said something that completely contradicted whatever truth either party believed. The knight peered down between his two lanterns. Did any of the forest dwellers know more than accident stories and rumors? His dark eyes caught the light of the third blue lantern over his shoulder. Dragons were fairytales and magic was mere sleight of hand in his mind, the world were he knew his life lacked any form of the truly supernatural. What did he have to weigh the dangers against? For him, there were only more questions and room full of jesters spouting this and that.

The mountainous man looked up though his stare seemed distant and dull. "Two out of three," he called back to the tribesman then grinned at the tattooed lady, "Those are good odds, yeah? For whoever is right and whoever is wrong." Fyair then lifted the green lantern high above his head and without hesitation threw the thing to the ground with all his impressive might. The only immediate regret being that he hoped the glass would shatter on the first try, so he wouldn't be left standing like an idiot having wasted a moment to show off.

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Fyair's gonna use it as a toothpick.

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@Red_massa I was a part of that RP for awhile! It was loads of fun. Nice people. Fast paced.

Darkness Within (A Dark themed rp)

I'm working on a post...