Riven Wight

MONSTORY

The first signs of autumn decorated the world around Izzy, the trees in the process of transitioning. Though many leaves flaunted the glorious reds, browns, and oranges of fall, summer still clung to some in a desperate attempt at remaining for as long as it could.
It had been so long since she had dared come here, but Izzy could not fully enjoy the satisfaction of conquering part of her fears. Instead, she trudged through the park, inwardly grumbling to herself, a scowl on her face as she mulled the morning’s events over in her head. She shivered when a cold wind blew by, and removed her hands from the pockets of her usual camouflage-patterned jacket to fully zip it up.
As she headed toward one of the trailheads she thought did not lead around the river—that fear could wait for another day[/i]—she could not help but start to feel like coming here was, perhaps, a mistake. She hesitated and glanced down either side of the sidewalk, debating on if she should return to where she had chained her bike up and find somewhere else, or continue onward.
With a quick, frustrated sigh, she decided on neither. Instead, she sat, hard, in one of the metal benches periodically lining the concrete walk. She placed her elbow on her knee and chin in her hand as the cold of the bench’s metal bars seeped through her pants, mulling over the morning’s events yet again. The more she thought on her fight with her brothers, the angrier she felt.
Her attention snapped over at the sound of a familiar voice.
“Oh, hey,” she said when she saw Holden approaching. “Nah, it’s just a shapeshifter in Izzy’s skin.”
She watched him walking toward her before her face pulled down into a glowering frown at his comment.
She sighed again when he finished, and rolled her eyes, trying to pull herself from her foul mood. “Only for today,” she grumbled. “Besides. You’re dressed in colors better suited for the circus life than me.” She nodded to him with a slight smile. “What’re you doing out here?” She scooted over from the center of the bench so he would have room if he wanted to sit.

Of Science and Magic

"Long enough?" So long as it is not, like, a single paragraph in this case, I think you should be fine. Heh. We are nearing close character interaction again. Posts will likely get shorter for the sake of reactions. Especially in a fight between player-characters. Not every post is going to be the average length of a novel chapter. I just get carried away when left alone with my characters.

Of Science and Magic

Heh, glad to hear. ^.^

If that's how you want to start it, yep! In all likelihood, he would find her resting. And on an animal path. And that's cool you get to delve into new territory. It's always exciting, but a bit nerve-wracking! The whole scientist part a bit new to me. I don't usually deal with any kind of science side, even if mixed with magic!

For the POV, it's up to you! Since Byrce blacks out for them, then yeah, personally, I would use either a sort of camera-type view, where you follow him and describe his actions, but don't touch on his inner emotions/monologue, OR do emotions from the perspective of the beast. Heck, depending on how you have Byrce effected, you could make it kind of like a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde type deal, where the pulses mess up his mind, shoves who he really is aside, and brings another sort of dark, feral personality out... Which would be interesting if it were to roll over into his human form. If he ever takes it. Just random thoughts.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

I see what you did there. xD I’m thrilled you liked it (and Drust)! And that I’ve managed that with Red.

That that made your week totally made my night. ^.^ I keep forgetting that Drust would know some literary references up to about 2002-03-ish, if set our present day.

My gosh, I love Ghent’s arrogance. “…a magical school needed him.” And hey, that was an unexpected reaction! Sweet!

I look forward to reading what you put up, whenever you get to your side characters!

*High-five for black clothes.* Sounds like a plan! Make them mandatory for every meeting.

… Dang it. Now I have something else to add to my list of characters I want to cosplay as. Thanks a lot.

If you haven’t already, check your inbox. :-D I went on a reply frenzy this weekend.

Do! And ugh. Waiting for packages is the worst. I still have a couple things I’m waiting for.

Oh, awesome! You’ve been on my “Friends List” for a while.

(Your profile picture! <3 <3 <3)

Quick reminder: The gate is one of the few pictures I have linked in the info post, if you need a better, picture-related refresher!

Now have a completely random picture I thought was cute and thought I’d share.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra closed her eyes for a short moment at Ghent’s first comment on the voices, the set of regret-filled words she had heard running through her head: “Take care of her, Drust.”
If nothing else, she was certainly uncertain that it had belonged to her mother. She could think of no one else it could have been, no one else who would address the Knight, but if she had known the voice once, it was one long forgotten now. Had that been the last thing she had heard her mother say? A last request caught so tightly in the magic web of the world that it played even through the portals?
Her hands clenched into fists. It would do her no good to dwell on it. It was a voice that created one more memory to shove into a dusty corner to be forgotten. A voice from the past, the ghost of an echo that should have been left to rot. All that truly remained of her mother was the heavy shadow of the White Queen that Elayra was forced to walk in, a shadow darkened by the Red Sorceress. Nothing more.
When what Drust said fully sank in, her attention snapped up to him. They could also be from the future. She glanced to Ghent as discretely as he could, worry in her eyes.
Another had addressed a ‘little boy lost.’ Could that have been referring to him?
Ghent’s nervous laugh made her focus more on his words. He, too, seemed perturbed by something he had heard.
“It was probably Curse-riddled magic trying to mess with us,” she spat, hoping to convince herself of it just as much as trying to encourage Ghent’s idea of the voices meaning nothing.
Drust sighed heavily, a sigh she knew well; she had the wrong theory.
“The magic of the portals exists on a slightly different level. Neither she nor her Curse would have control over what you heard. Regardless of her power.”
Elayra frowned at Drust’s bubble-bursting abilities. “Great. Thanks.”
Drust’s neck twitched slightly as he glared back at her tone, but he said nothing. He looked forward once more.
The further they got from Hollow Hill, the more the feel of magic shifted. It grew less welcoming, drawing away from Ghent, but never fully leaving him. It lurked just outside his senses, there but not there. Long before it faded for Ghent, its almost electric feel completely vanished for Elayra and Drust, strangled out for them by the Curse.
Cracked cobblestones began to replace the overgrown dirt path. As they rounded a bend, the vines and roots at last gave up their fight with the weathered cobblestones, and the gateway came into view.
Flanked by two final hills covered in bushy vegetation, vines twirled their way up its stone pillars and draped down from the archway. Their ends swayed in a gentle breeze. Even from their distance, Elayra could make out the red stone heart at the crest of the subtly pointed arch. It had fallen stationary, its weak, magical pulse snuffed out with the portal. On this side of the gate, two more statues sat on either side of the path. Both once of a heart sitting upon a pillar, one had begun to crumble, leaving only half a heart. A blanket of moss caked the other, making its shape nearly unrecognizable.
Elayra stepped slightly to the side to better see around Drust.
“Do you remember this place?” Elayra asked, eagerly changing the subject. She cast Ghent a quick glance, wondering if he, too, retained any memory of the first time they had come through here.

MONSTORY

Though Riley did not exactly answer her question, what he had to say still held Izzy’s attention. She nodded in understanding as he stood.
“Along with the weight of it… only in a more literal sense.” She returned her arms to her sides and placed her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans.
When Riley finished, Izzy frowned and opened her mouth to object, to say that that first change could be only the beginning, but Holden beat her to it.
She returned Holden’s gaze. “I’m just glad it worked out,” she said as he stepped to her. She looked at him with mild surprise when he took one of her hands.
There was that concept again. The number of friends she kept finding in unexpected places only continued to grow. It would never cease to amaze her.
“You don’t need to apologize. I understand.” She smiled warmly. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then placed her other hand on the back of his. “I mean, what else are friends for, right?”

Of Science and Magic

It should be fun!

So, uh, that got longer than anticipated (surprise, surprise). I apologize. Hope it's at least a semi-enjoyable read. Heh. So, I end with her in the forest, but technically before Byrce's episode. Go ahead and have him find her around sunrise, and I'll get her caught up to dawn and add her reaction to Byrce's attack into my next post. The only additional detail I can think of at the moment that may be necessary is that Byrce may be capable of smelling her blood. Not a lot, but a bit. Of course, if you need anything else from me, just let me know! All that sound good?

Of Science and Magic

Freedom. Thea had longed for it for so long, wished to feel a fresh breeze on her skin, the sun on her face, the grass between her toes. She knew the concepts, even if she could not remember if she had ever experienced them. Even with a fire raging through her and a haze clouding her vision, she knew she was so close, yet so far. Another surprise like that, and it would be over. No sun. No grass. Just stone and torture.
She was only just aware of the guard setting her down, her back against the wall and the agony slowly fading. She heard his armor clunk against the cold stone beside her, but did not dare move. Her chest rose and fell with shuddering breaths. She closed her eyes, focusing on pushing away the lingering effects of the Sage Scientist’s ‘failsafe.’
“You alive?” the guard grunted softly.
The light of his lantern shone a bit brighter from behind Thea’s eyelids, but she did not have the energy to stir enough to answer.
“You’re breathing. I’ll take it you’re alive.”
“Is that what I am?” she managed after a pause, her voice a weak whisper.
“Pain’s always a good indicator of that. Since you can hear me…” She heard the scuffle of him standing, the light shifting with his movements. “There’s something I need to do. Do what you need to regain your strength, but stay here and be ready to go the moment I get back. You should be safe here. As far as I know, I’m the only one in this forsaken place who knows these passages exist. Understood?”
Thea opened her eyes at the gentle tap of the lantern being placed near her feet, the handle squealing lightly as it shifted without the guard holding it.
The guard stood over her just to her left, his arms crossed. With the dim light beneath him, it cast a large, intimidating shadow of him on the wall and ceiling.
The hall surrounding them was scarcely wide enough to accommodate for her stretched-out legs. A mix of mold and spider webs clung to the walls. Water stains dripped down the cracked stones as if the structure itself cried in secret from the evils preformed within it.
“Oy!” The guard tapped his foot once in impatience. “Did you hear me or not, girl?”
“Fine.” She took a slow, deep breath, gritting her teeth and wincing as it made her side move and sent yet another reminder that she was alive down the right half of her torso.
The guard’s eyes narrowed. At least, Thea thought they did, but it could have been a trick of the light.
After a moment of deliberation, he nodded. “Good. I won’t be long.” He stepped over Thea’s legs, leaving the lantern behind, and continued down the hall.
Thea watched after him until the darkness consumed him. She took another slow breath, feeling the dampness of the stones soak through the back of her hair. The coldness of it sent a chill down her spine. Gritting her teeth, she forced her legs to bend toward her chest and leaned forward to avoid the unnecessary discomfort of the extra cold.
She gasped when the action irked her overused body, and quickly straightened her legs back out, leaning back against the wall.
At least the effects of the failsafe had at last fully faded, leaving only her familiar aches. But she could not afford to stay still long enough to let the worst of them creep over her. She would have to move, or risk being incapable of following the guard’s escape plan. Or of running if he instead brought the Sages back with him. She knew even in optimal condition, she would not get far, but she had to at least try.
She sluggishly got to her feet, her teeth clenched against the sore stiffness accompanying each contracting muscle. Letting her left arm dangle at her side, she braced her right hand against the wall, ignoring the sliminess beneath her palm.
Her body was tired. Worn. She had done too much, too soon, but now it would have to do more. She would make it do more. She glanced down at herself, the floor just as slimy beneath her feet as the walls. She slowly moved her hand to the freshest bloodstain on her worn gown, which had since dried. Beneath the thin fabric, she could feel the tapered edges of the newest plates that now wrapped half her upper torso from hip to ribcage. She hissed and drew away when her fingers brushed where skin met metal, the area still extra tender.
Thankfully, the guard did not take long to return. Only a few minutes passed before she heard the heavy thuds of his footfalls echoing down the hall. Only one set of feet. He was alone.
She turned carefully to face the direction he had left. A second later, the lamplight glinted over his armor as he stepped into its glow. He carried a bag slung over his shoulder, and his breaths came a bit quicker, as if he had been running.
“Good. You’re still here. And up.” He heaved the pack to the floor and reached inside. He struggled for a moment, then pulled out a large pair of tall, fur-lined boots. “You’ll need these.” He tossed them to the floor near her, one of them toppling over. “There’s enough snow out there to drown a cow.”
Snow. She had not considered that it could be winter. That would explain the extra chill that had been lingering in the dungeons lately.
She stared at the boots for a long moment, as if unsure what they were or what to do with them, then to her feet. She could not remember the last time she wore shoes. She curled her toes at the thought.
The guard paused as he reached inside the bag again, and looked to her. “Well? Put ‘em on. We don’t have all night.” He paused at her further hesitation. “You do know what shoes are, don’t you?” Uncertainty mingled with his otherwise condescending tone.
Thea nodded, then slowly pulled the hem of her nightdress up just enough to prevent it from getting in the way. The copper- and bronze-colored plates covering her left leg shone with an opalescent sheen in the lamplight as she carefully placed her full weight onto that leg. She used her foot to right the boot that had flipped over, then slipped it on. She tentatively repeated the process with the other, unsure if footwear would irritate the muscles beneath the organic metal.
The boots were a few sizes too large, but they would do. The fur on the inside was worn down around the bottom, but still puffy enough further up to rub against the skin of the right. But to her left, she may as well have still been barefoot. Only her toes and soles felt the rough fur around them. With the rest covered in the armor, she could tell there was something there, a slight difference in pressure, but nothing beyond that.
The guard whistled to get her attention, making her head snap up toward him. He held out a long, worn cloak.
She took it in one hand, the thick, course wool heavier than she expected.
“Need help with that?” the guard asked as she debated on if she wanted to risk using her left arm to determine heads from tails on the garment.
She did not answer immediately, trying it first on her own one-handed.
He sighed impatiently. “Here.” He took the cloak from her, swiftly located its hood, and draped it around her thin shoulders. Made for a much taller, brawnier man, it hung awkwardly from her and pooled around her feet.
Between the boots, cloak, and her dwindling strength, she envisioned herself doing a few faceplants before she made it even a couple steps away.
“Thanks,” she grumbled awkwardly as he tied the strips creating the cloak’s clasp.
He bent to tighten the boots as well as he could. “Thank me when you’re out.”
Once done, he straightened, then pulled the hood up. It slipped down over her eyes, obscuring her view as the guard took a step away and looked her over.
She reached up and pushed the hood from her eyes.
“Listen closely, because I’m only going to tell you this once.” He rested a hand leisurely over his sword, making Thea take an instinctive step back.
Her foot caught on the cloak and she nearly lost her balance, but the guard reached out and grabbed her shoulder, steadying her.
“Go straight down this hall,” he jerked his head to indicate behind him, “then take a right when it forks. You’ll come out near the Sages’ lab. Go straight across, and you’ll find an opening. It won’t look like one, but it is. The wall’s designed to hide the exit. Get there, go up the ladder, and go north. There’s a village about thirty miles from here. If you’re lucky, you’ll make it to one of the farms on the outskirts by dawn. Lay low. Don’t draw any attention to yourself. They’ll start searching nearby settlements soon enough. If you get caught, I’ll deny I helped you. Am I clear?”
Thea nodded, then paused. “Which way’s north?”
“Figured you’d ask.” The guard picked up the sack once more, and pulled out a compass hanging on a leather strap, which he handed to her. “Line up the ‘N’ with—”
“I know how a compass works.” Thea took it from him and examined the dented and scratched metal casing before hanging it around her neck.
The guard snorted. “Well, you seemed befuddled by the shoes. Had to check. I’ll leave ahead of you to make sure it stays clear. Wait a couple minutes, then follow.” Without waiting for a response, he turned, leaving the bag behind, and headed down the hall. “Good luck, girl.”
As soon as he was out of sight, Thea began to count the seconds. When she reached a minute, she took a deep breath, adjusted the cloak, then stepped toward the lantern. She fidgeted with the cloak, trying unsuccessfully to keep it from dragging so heavily on the floor. At two minutes, she gave up, grabbed the lantern, and headed down the hall.
She took each step slowly, watching her feet. The size of the boots aside, having something on them after so long felt strange, and the warmth they brought stranger still.
The lamplight glistened on the walls as she held it out before her, following the mysterious guard’s directions. As he said, a fair distance down, she came to where it branched off in a T shape. She turned right, and spotted the glow of flickering torches further ahead. The light radiated through a translucent stone wall at the end of the hallway.
At the wall, she stopped to watch and listen. She saw no movement besides the flicker of firelight. The echo of familiar voices floated to her from further off, guards complaining about having to search for her at this "unforsaken hour."
After a short beat, even those echoes faded. Thea took a breath then rushed out into the all too familiar hall. The double doors of the Sages’ lab were further down to her right, while the dead end was closer to her left
She glanced down the deserted hall. Both Gaillard and the body of the Sages' latest victim had been moved, leaving the area utterly vacant. Only the flicker of the torches created movement, casting their own shadows against the walls and turning the lab’s doors into an ominous display of dancing light and darkness.
Setting her gaze on the far wall, she extended her left palm toward it and slowed her pace as she neared. It looked solid enough, but, then again, so had the wall of the storage room.
When she expected her fingers to press against the stone, instead, they kept going. She blinked in surprise, then took a single step forward.
Unlike in the storage room or the secret exit behind her, the only magic of this illusion was in the architecture. Someone had built it so the opening resembled the rest of the wall from whatever angle you viewed it, the torches spaced just right so their light enhanced the effect. At least until you stepped through.
Thea followed the narrow corridor beyond to the left, then sharply right. It ended in another dead end, but unlike all the others in the dungeon, this one had an iron ladder attached to the stone. A single torch at its side illuminated it, its top disappearing into the darkness above.
Neck craned to look up at it, Thea swallowed hard. She would have to climb. She looked to her left hand and flexed her fingers, trying to prepare it for the stress to come. She glanced to her lantern, then to the dark above. The lantern would make climbing more difficult, and potentially make enough noise to arouse suspicion if it hit the ladder.
With a heavy sigh, she doused the lantern then hung it on a hook opposite the torch. She pulled her hood down for better visibility as she stood in front of the ladder. Hoping for the best, she took a deep breath and gripped the chilled metal of a rung in her right hand.
The climb was painfully slow. Though she felt a bit safer once covered by the cloak of the darkness, her eyes adjusting just enough to make out the ladder, her garments and aching muscles made the ascent that much more arduous. Her feet slipped a few times, and she nearly fell, but she just managed to hang on, her arms screaming in protest and heart pounding madly.
When she at last reached the top, her head thunked against a wooden hatch door. Wrapping her right arm around a rung and making sure her feet were well-braced against another, she grit her teeth and reached up with her left. Trying to avoid any unnecessary noise, she pushed slowly, the use making prickles of pain spear down her arm.
To her relief, the hatch pushed upward, despite its weight. Its hinges squealed slightly and the rumble of dirt rolling off it filled her ears. A spear of silvery moonlight shot through the opening, bringing with it the crisp chill of winter.
Thea pushed it open as far as the chain connecting it to the wall allowed, then pulled herself up and out. Instead of the outdoors, she found herself in an old, abandoned shack that looked like it may fall down if she sneezed too hard. A wintery breeze blew through the broken windows and where it looked like something had taken a massive bite out of one of the shack’s corners.
Panting heavily, she let herself take a moment. She leaned her back against the earthen ground, her feet still dangling over the ladder. But she rested for only a moment.
Forcing her legs from the tunnel, she knelt and closed the hatch. Covering it with the dirt of the floor so it blended in perfectly with its surroundings, she got to her feet and went to the missing corner.
A forest stretched around her, the trees bare. Snow glittered like diamonds in the light of the full moon, the powder showing no evidence of any guards’ comings and goings. A gentle breeze nipped at her face, but Thea did not care.
Thea scarcely dared believe it; at long last, she was free. But she could not let that thought go to her head. Not yet. The snow would show where she had gone. She would have to find a way to cover her tracks. Stay away from main roads, but find a well-trodden animal path, somewhere the snow was already packed down.
With that thought, she headed out into the snow, which had drifted nearly to the top of her tall, borrowed boots around the shack. Doing her best to sweep the snow back into her footprints and keep her premature elation in check, she checked the compass to make sure she headed north, and began her journey toward town, praying neither the Sages nor their guards would catch up to her first.

Of Science and Magic

I was hoping you'd go with the first. You've got the perfect setup for that going, and the tension in it is wonderful.

Noted. Hmm. I gave her that “Energy Absorption” ability. Maybe she could accidentally discover she has that if necessary, and have it work against the energy behind his powers? If nothing else, it could still be a shorter attack for your guy, snapping out of it just in the nick of time, but still after a bit of damage? By the time they encounter, Thea’s going to be on the verge of dropping… and probably having frostbite. xD

Advice? Hmm. Well, since he’s blacked-out, I would probably avoid any internal monologue, such as opinions and emotions, and just stick with his actions. Or write as if from the perspective of a crazed wolf, with any thoughts and feelings done in that mindset instead of Byrce’s. If you mean on how he’s going to act, that’s really up to you. Just remember the original purpose was to make it seem like he had murdered Thea. If he’s completely out of control, maybe something like a rabid wolf on a rampage, sniffing out anything and everything he could possibly attack?

Until later, signature copy-cat! <3

MONSTORY

Holden’s reaction to the apparent appearance of the Crab made Izzy’s breath catch as she took another quick look around the room. Still careful to keep her head bent, she focused on the direction he was avoiding, but still saw nothing. She supposed it made sense; after all, he was the one who had been effected by the god.
She looked to Riley when he told Holden to join him. She hesitated a moment, unsure if she should follow to stay close, or remain where she was to avoid potentially running into what she could not see. In the end, she took a couple cautious steps toward the two, but still kept a respectful distance from them.
When they placed their hands in their laps, Izzy awkwardly clasped hers behind her back, her head still slightly bent. Though she remained mostly still, her eyes continued to switch from focusing on Riley and Holden to flitting about the room. That the Crab was there and she could not see it was more than a little unsettling.
She listened as the two talked, the barren walls giving their voices a slight echo.
Her attention settled back on Holden when he jolted straighter. She inhaled as he told his story, pity glittering in her emerald eyes. Now that was something she could not possibly imagine how it had felt to go through.
She bit her lower lip as he broke down, wishing there was something she could do to comfort him, when he began to return to his feet.
No. Not return, but be pulled up by his throat.
She took a startled step back when what could only be the Crab pinned Holden against the wall. She glanced frantically between Riley and Holden, unsure what to do about an aberration she could not see.
Thankfully, Riley had a better grasp on the situation. Whether Riley could actually see it, or was simply guessing at where it was, Izzy could not tell, but as soon as he succeeded in freeing Holden of the Crab, she hurried toward Holden to stand between him and where the now destroyed alter and, presumably, the Crab was.
As Riley moved toward it, Izzy took a defensive stance, ready to do what she could against an invisible opponent.
Her head twitched toward Holden when he called out. She adjusted herself so she could keep him partially in sight, without fully sacrificing a view of a good portion of the room. She relaxed her stance slightly when Holden pleaded with the Crab.
As his words faded, the tension in the room became tangible. Would the Crab accept, or would it attack again? Time seemed to have forgotten how to pass, the trio frozen as if their world had been transformed into a painting. Only the flickering candlelight served as proof that life still went on around them.
Then, at last, the Crab broke the stillness. With a briny, almost electric-scented burst of air, as if the angry sea had at last decided to exhale, the world remembered how to turn. Izzy tensed when the candles sputtered out, leaving them in the pitch black for a short moment before the golden glow of first light filtered in through a grimy window.
Dawn. They had stood there until dawn.
Izzy’s attention snapped to Holden as he began to both cry and laugh. She looked at him curiously, debating on if everything had worked out, or if he had lost his mind.
A smile pulled at Izzy’s lips at Holden’s words. It had worked.
“Well.” She crossed her arms, and stepped toward him. “That’s usually what happens when you weigh more than five pounds.” She looked toward Riley. “Was I the only one who couldn’t see the Heavy Crab?” she asked, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. “Or were you totally just winging it?”