SilentWriter83

« Pamma »

Nasim

It was blurry, fuzzy, his mind as it blinked in and out of reality. There were glimpses, bright lights, whiteness and....something warm. There was always something warmth, an ever present calmness that soothed him whenever his eyes would flutter and the pain would wash away even if only a little. How long he had been out, it wasn't very clear to him, but the human knew one thing....he was in pain. Eyes fluttered, thick lashes brushing tanned cheeks as they worked their way open, a feat easier said than done. His entire body ache, the pain dancing across the border of unbearable as it radiated from his right humerous and left femur. It pulsed and throbbed, the bones obviously snapped like twigs beneath a hunter's boot in the snow that pummeled his frame.

Wait...avalanche.....

It was coming back now, quick snippets of memory. He saw them, his guides as they took him up the mountain. It was his right of passage, his journey to become a man, his father looking upon him with pride as he started his trek up the hillside. This was supposed to be the great feat of his life and then...and then what? Something had happened, the roar of the mountain still echoed in his mind. "...Nnn..." a groan, soft and low in his chest, the struggle to rouse himself as eyes focused on what was surrounding him. It was something thick and white and coarse and it surrounded everything. It was....what the hell was it, muscles crying in a fiery protest as his uninjured arm opened to smooth his hair from his face. It hurt, then again, everything hurt as something thick and rough was felt beneath his fingertips.

Nails dug in, scrapping and lifting flakes of red from his cheek, Nasim knew instantly what it was. He cursed, a mental hiss of pained annoyance as bleary eyes focused. He needed to stay on track, to remember what he was trying to do. His eyes pushed up again, gazing at stone that created the ceiling above him. Confusion wafted through his mind, unaware of how he got here. It didn't make sense, wasn't possible less someone found him in the remains of snow but....no, no that couldn't be. No one lived this high up the mountain. There were no beasts to hunt, no crop to nourish. It was a freezing wasteland meant to test the survival skills of the young so that they many prove themselves worthy of manhood. So no, no this couldn't be anyone else's doing, so how, then, did he wind up here.

Head turning, the ache of tired muscle radiated through his neck and skull, finding more white. The first thought was snow, but it was far too soft, far too warm, to be such a thing. The hand that still worked, still moved, reached slowly, pressing against the soft hairs to find something hot and firm beneath it. Nasim felt a pulse, the steady thrum of live that pumped through veins and his wondering only grew as he made his neck arch through the pain to find a face, but not just any face. It was the face of a beast, humanoid in nature with a pink snout and brilliant icy blue orbs. There was a familiarity there when chocolate met ice, but the face that accompanied it wasn't one he should be seeing.

Fear, that was the first thing that registered, body jerking away from the arms that held but the human didn't get far. Half of his body didn't work, crippled form flopping back down as the pain pinned him to the ground. The worry was in his eyes, the fear in the way his body tensed as he fought to move even the tiniest bit away. He didn't know what this thing was, friend or faux, but it had dragged his battered body here and surely there was nothing good to come of it.

Transformed as Punishment (18+)

This sounds interesting >.>

« Pamma »

It was dark, for white some time. His body felt nothing, moved little. Everything Nasim did was purely dependent upon the bodies natural instinct to survive. It worked tirelessly to repair itself, body blazing with a cold sweat fever. The air around him was ice cold, dropping his temperature yet a fever raged inside of him. Several bones were fractured, some sprained, a few broken. It was mostly his ribs and left ankle, though most of the damage was avoided thanks to the beats the human had no knowledge of existing, save for ancient tales of a spirit that watched over their townspeople in the olden times.

They were nothing but fairytales to whisper to children. They ignited dreams and whispers of other mystical creatures. They were nothing but fabels or...at least that's what Nasim was convinced of. He wouldn't learn of his mistake for several days. He was cold and working on recovery without anything more than a warm furred body wrapped around him.

The day after being taken to the cave, the human stirred for only a moment. Heavy eyelids fluttered yet did not open. Whatever consciousness was trying to claw forwards lost its battle fairly quickly. The third day was silent, a soft groan of pain here and there but there was no big change until the fifth day. That day Nasim did more than groan or let his eyelids flutter.

No, his eyes opened, cracking ever so slightly to peer up at the world. His head ached and his throat was dry. His tongue pressed out only to swipe over dry, cracked lips. Nasim groaned, fingers twitching at his sides. He struggled to move, body slowly coming to as he worked on moving his limbs.

Everything hurt to a nearly blinding degree. He didnt remember much of what happened, only a towering wall of white, a pounding roar, and then darkness. His chest burned with each inhale of breathe, the effort to sit up proving futile as his body refused to cooperate. He was in too much pain, too weak to do anything.

A cry bubbled up, weak and pitiful. Nasim didn't know where he was or why. He could only assume he was dragged here by some wild animal for whatever reason. If that was the case then why was he alive now? The question was fleeting as he turned his head, groaning as the pain flared, tingling up the back of his neck and spreading around the top of his skull.

Tears brimmed, a choked sob, as the pain verged on too much.

He didn't understand.

Where was he?

Why was he here?

Where was his father? Mother? Sister?

Nothing made sense!

« Pamma »

Blackness.

All encompassing blackness. It was all that Nasim could see. His body was heavy, as if made of stone. Any attempt at moving only left him with a flaring pain. It never made any visible sign, not that the human was aware of such things. All he knew was black, inky, suffocating darkness. Had he died? Was this the end of his life, betrayed by two of his own kind on the day that he was to become a man. He wasn't even a man yet, at least not in the eyes of his people, since he had been cut down before he was able to complete this challenge. That meant he would die a boy, not even being able to come of age before he was slain.

It wasn't fair. There was no way this could be his life, an ache forming in his chest, only adding to the pain rolling through his body. He wanted to scream, to fight, to rage, but he couldn't move, locked within his own body as a creature of myth carried him to saftey at the risk to its own healthy. Nasim was unaware of this, convinced he'd been taken before his time, a sob bubbling up but never escaping. He could feel the burn of tears that welled in his eyes, slipping down his icy cheeks.

He didn't want to die.

Not like this.

It wasn't fair!

----

Further down the mountain, the men gasped for air, hidden away in a small cave as the snow roared over them. They'd miscalculated the blast, how much slow it would displace. Shivering as nothing by cold wrapped around them, the two started a fire, choosing to rest until the roar of the mountain ebbed. They could dig their way out come morning, but for now they would stay, in the warmth of a fire and rejuvenate. Their plan was a success. They just had to get back down to the main land, let the parents mourn the lost of their eldest and then buy them out without a challenger.

Ban the Person above you

Banned for speaking in the third person

« Pamma »

It was time.

He was of age now, a pack weighing nearly thirty pounds strapped to his back. A jacket made of the fur of the very animals they hunted, long, silky black hair braided down his back. Square shoulders rose and fell with a soft sigh as brown orbs stared at the unseeable top of the mountain he was to climb. A passage into manhood that everyone male from his tribe was to make. Led by two older men who'd completed his journey, he would be taken up the mountain, left for a week, expected to survive and make his way back down the mountain on his own. In the end, he would have become one with the forces of nature, found his true self, become a man that could work hard, contribute to his small tribe in these Northern woods. It was a pride of every one here, the young boy, soon to be man, able to feel the happy eyes of his father on his back before a large hand clapped onto his shoulder. There was warm smile on his face, one that filled Nasim with a pride he would fulfill in a weeks time. The young man was sure he'd complete this task with flying colors. He would survive this week and come home a man. He would take over the lands his father owned, find himself a suitable wife, have kids to take over his lands once they became men and then so on and so forth.

It was a simple dream that Nasim had, but they were a simple people, yet untouched by the modern world that ravaged and raged in their cities and towns, swept up in trivial matters that wouldn't hold a candle to things that mattered in the long run. How sad they must be, not that Nasim knew, locked away in such lives, nothing more than cogs in a wheel. If he ever saw that world, at first he would be in awe of their towering huts and thin clothes, but then he would be sad, sad that they were trapped by money and greed and technology. They would never smell the scent of clean hair, the coolness of crystal blue water. Not once would they know the satisfaction of working the land and growing crops to feed a village, know the joy of watching children run and play down their streets and play their games. They wouldn't understand the pride of a hunt to feed a village. They just wouldn't understand.

"I believe in you," Mameesh, Nasim's father spoke. The man pat his son on the shoulder before stepping back. It was a simple departure before Latika, Nasim's mother stepped forwards. Arms wound around her son, pulling him into a tight hug. She was proud of him, hope swelling in her chest. There was no doubt that he would return in one piece, a man. Her young boy reaching such a landmark brought tears to her eyes.

"You take care of yourself now," she whispered softly before pulling away. Nasim only chuckled, nodding to the woman as she cupped his cheeks. "My son, a beautiful young man," she cooed. Nasim flushed lightly which only served to make his mother laugh before releasing him. Seventeen and yet he got embarrassed so easily.

"Sim! Sim!" A young voice called out to him. His young sister, only five years old, raised her arms to him to be lifted. Of course the teen obliged and lifted her in his strong arms just for her to throw her arms around her neck. "Bring me back a fishy!" She declared.

"I'm not sure if they'll have fish on the mountain, Aramyth," he informed which made the young girl pout. "Buuut," He cooed. "If I find a wolf I'll make you a pretty pelt out of its fur," He whispered conspiratorily. Of course the child squealed with joy.

"Nasim! It's time to go," Jaquer, one of two of his guides called out. He was a stern man of thirty-five. The teen nodded, kissing his baby sister on the cheek, giving one final goodbye to his parents and jogging over. Herik, a man of twenty-eight flanked Nasim and Jaquer, the second guide to lead him up the mountain, to make sure he made it an agreeable distance up the mountain.

The village saw him off, cheering for the teen as the trio began their adventure up the mountain. Moving was harder than one would imagine, the thick furs on his body to keep him warm hindering his usual movements. His furred boots were also rather heavy on his feet, like three pound weights on each foot. He was out of breath rather quickly but refused to complain, sweat clinging to his skin beneath his furs. How long they had been hiking, he had no clue, but could only hope that it would end soon.

"This seems like a good place," Jaquer spoke, halting his steps. He shared a look with the man at the back, a subtle nod shared between them that the youngest didn't notice. Nasim moved further up the trail, a small landing jutting out from the side of the mountain. He smiled, turning to his guides, intent on thanking them only to feel a fist collide with his face.

Nasim stumbled back as the shock reverbrated through his body. Confusion washed over his mind, eyes wide as he stared at his guides turned attackers. Their faces were blank, emotionless maskes, Jaquer advancing for another blow while Herik dug through his pack. Fear gripped Nasim's heart, feet scrambling back from the older male.

"Wh-What are...What are you doing?!" Nasim demanded, hands raising to block the second swing. It certainly bruised his forearms, a distraction while Herik set the charges. If there was no heir to Mameesh's lands, then they would be up for sale and Herik and Jaquer would be the top bidders for that sweet chunk of money that old geezer sat on.

"That's something you'll never get to know," Jaquer growled, fist connecting with Nasim's cheek again and sending him sprawling. The world went black, body falling limp in the snow while the two older men scrambled away. The hit was only enough to knock him down, send his world into a black oblivion for only a few minutes, world spinning as he came to. A hand settled on his forehead, iron on his tongue from the blood seeping in through his cut cheek. The teen spit out the crimson liquid, flinching as it stained the pure white snow at his side.

"What the hell?" he groaned, previous events coming to him slowly. The moment they did, Nasim was on his feet, rushing down the trail that the two older males had sent him down. "JAQUER! HERIK! YOU ASSHOLES!" He cursed them as he ran but it was too late. The earth shook with a resounding boom, the teens voice the signal that the plotter's needed to set off the charges.

Instantly Nasim froze, turning over his shoulder and staring.

It was white.

Everything was a pure white while the ground shook. It was like the earth itself was growling, warning him, telling him to run for his life. Billowing clouds of powder rushed towards him, a surreal feeling really. It was almost like it wasn't happening, the way the snow moved so slowly, thick chunks falling rapidly towards him. He tried to pinch himself, tell himself that it was a dream. He would wake up soon enough in his bed with his mother and father and sister and tell them of such a strange dream only...

it wasn't a dream.

Sil's Little Art Shop!

@MatthiasAngel
I feel terrible
I never saw this and I'm sooooooooooo sorry >.<
if you're still interested I can do it
and since it's been a month since you posted that, I'll do it for free
Again
I'm sooooo sorry

« Pamma »

Nasim Salim Malik

❝_{Character Quote/Motto}❞

_{N A M E}

-Nasim Salim Malik

_{N I C K N A M E}

-Salim
-Nas
-Lim

_{G E N D E R}

- male

_{A G E}

- 17

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

- athletic
-ocher toned
-deep chocolate eyes
-strong jaw
-5ft 11in
-long black hair with a few braids

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y / T R A I T S}

-Stubborn
-friendly
-charismatic
-kind
-curious

_{S K I L L S}

-hunting
-climbing
-cooking

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

-Born in a small village in Alaska, Nasim is the son of a large landowner.
He is not the richest, nor is he in line to lead their tiny town, more of a tribe than a village really. He learned to farm and to hunt, excelling at the latter early on in life. His favorite was the bow, silent, swift, and easy on the prey.
You had hunters that liked to take their time, but he hunted not for sport but for necessity. His tribe waisted no food and therefore, he had never learned the art of gluttonous hunting like that in the other fifty states of his country. Sometimes he wondered if that place even existed. In their tundra land,
where grass only peeked out of snowy drifts during the warmer months, it was hard to believe that there was anything outside of his tiny home surrounded by ice and snow and unforgiving animals. This was all he knew, all he cared to know. He loved his village, its traditions, especially their legends. The stories about the fantastical beasts that lay outside of their lands. He had heard about the water creatures, the mountain Yeti's, the viscous wolf's in the woods that turned into men to sneak into their homes and steal them away. They were things that used to keep him up at night but now left him wondering into early mornings. What really lay out there?

_{R E L A T I O N S}

—Father: Mameesh
-Mother: Latika
-Younger Sister: Aramyth

_{O T H E R}

—

WIP

MxM RP Anyone? {more plot options inside}

The first plot seems really fun. I'd love to give it a go :)

Infectious: Zone B Archives

@Spud take your time! lord knows I did >.>