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Post by Vanitypirate on Jun 23, 2017 8:51:42 GMT -8
THE DARKEST ROLEPLAY: GRAVEYARD
"Most will end up here, covered in the poisoned earth, awaiting merciful oblivion."
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Here is where you will post interactions that take place in the graveyard.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 16:37:08 GMT -8
The wandering knight stood there, motionless, simply looking at the man as he literally rose from one of the graves. The man was not superstitious nor faithful, but the sudden appearance still had an effect on him. People die here; seeing someone else wandering is confusing. Then again, wasn't he doing the same thing? With a shrug, he kept walking, before finally stopping a few feets away from the man, the rhythmic thuds sound of his halberd hitting the floor stopping just as suddenly as he had arrived. Unable to think of what to say to the stranger, he simple stood there in Silence.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 16:48:48 GMT -8
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Now what stood before him was a thick, juggernaut of a man. Clad in plate, and seals. It bothered Dewitt none. He rose from a seated position, standing before the Knight. "You are heavy. Like guilt."
Dewitt rose his hand to brush dirt from the back of his tunic, but behind his back, a sapling of red rose from his finger, before being forced down again. Dewitt paused, in complete silence as the Knight, nor he said nothing.
The roses liked him.
The crowded behind him, enjoying the shade of his shadow in the world of Red Dewitt found himself in. He looked, his arcane sight not needing movement of the neck muscles, and they all turned their bony skulls towards him.
They did not run.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 16:58:20 GMT -8
"Quite the assumption to make", let out the towering figure with a gruff. 'specially from a stranger.
The man in front of him made very little sense - at least, to him. Silence was, after all, a very literal person. Blind to Dewitt's sight, he simply looked around, searching for something, anything, that might explain to him what was this man doing lying onto a grave.
But then again, who never felt the need to rest their bones in a nice, cool grave? Sooner or later, he would end up here, or in another graveyard - if he even had the chance to have his body recovered safely. If he was honest with himself, he could see himself lying in a ditch on the side of the Old Road, still clutching his halberd. He would eventually be looted off his armor by bandits, and his body left to rot.
And the towering errand knight was fine with this.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 17:06:36 GMT -8
It was difficult. Attempting to speak with the man in front of him.
Dewitt was more concerned with the Roses. Their bodies clicked and cracked in audible protest to their sudden, spider-like movements, and now, they stood behind a champion of sorts.
"You do not speak, yet you tower. Here."
A Rose moved too close. It's mouth and face burned, the red steam coming off it in it's presence of Dewitt, it's burst of movement enough to move a leaf or two in the world this knight could witness.
Dewitt moved his head at this, the peeling of the face of the Rose enough for it crawl over the metal fence around this yard of graves, out towards the house of alcohol and rape they called a tavern.
Dewitt looked up at the knight again.
"You have committed much evil."
It was how Dewitt saw it.
The Roses watched.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 17:12:41 GMT -8
"You speak cryptically", he said with impatience, slamming the base of the Halberd in his hand against the floor, the loud sound resonating through the Graveyard. Despite his regrets and his desire to leave it all behind, he was still easily irritated, and he grew tired with the mindless charade this man offered him. The graveyard was, after all, a secluded place. Who would care about the disappearance of yet another nut-job?
Gripping his weapon tightly, the giant in blued Gothic armor shook his head and pointed at the man accusingly. "Only fools and corpses lie among the dead. You're going to have to chose between them; my sword-arm is itching."
His Scottish accent came through as he spoke intimidatingly, leaning his head forward slightly.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 17:22:03 GMT -8
His eyebrow raised.
"Ah, the tower can force his natural sounds to mean words in the ears of man."
Dewitt cringed slightly at the sound of the halberd hitting solid ground, and the sentence after made him, angry.
"Fools and corpses lie with the dead? Where do the cursed lie then?"
From Dewitt's shoulders rose two saplings of blood. The thorns growing from them tore his tunic, other thorns pulling it up before it feel down again.
These twin saplings grew to each be two feet high, thin as pins and undulating like slime. From these grew small twigs, and all were covered in minute, but numerous, thorns and spines.
"Your sword arm might be torn from you if you linger on the idea of murder. You may wish to run to holy ground. I cannot enter."
The Roses abandoned their gargantuan champion.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 17:33:58 GMT -8
"I have no business with your charade!"
And with that, he swung his free arm at DeWitt, aiming to punch him right in the face with his gauntlet-ed fist. Screw mysteries!
Silence wasn't in the mood. The ale sucked, the harlots were too expensive, his potential comrade who would lead him to an expedition -and possibly a glorious (or not) death- had left to take care of business. Who would care about this man? Nobody.
It would be a good outlet for his rage. A good opportunity to let out his pent-up frustration until his halberd found a worthy adversary.
And Silence was so, so tired of taking people's shit.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 17:43:33 GMT -8
It was a quick movement, and soon Dewitt was on the ground.
His nose was badly broken.
Dewitt looked up at this knight, and the saplings returned to his arms.
Dewitt rose, head down, and pulled the rag from his eyes.
Red.
Vacuous holes bored into the skull, blood immediately poured from them like tears. The red-stained bone vibrated at a low hum, the puffs of flesh in the back of his sockets. It all stared into the eyes of the Knight.
The nausea would hit quickly, followed by the artificial fear and sickness within ones stomach. Dewitt raised a hand to the air, a collection of blood raised from the tips of his fingers. The thorny, thin extensions from deep within the reaches of Dewitt's body.
Dewitt took steps back, putting forward his blood-armed right hand.
"Step back."
His nose set itself.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 18:03:57 GMT -8
Silence watched in horror at DeWitt's nose fixed itself back up. He felt a pang of sickness hit him in the stomach, and his unshakeable persona quite moved at the sight of the unnatural actions; the blood at the end of his hands, his assurance as he put his arm forward. More out of incomprehension and panic than anything, he stumbled back, before rushing forward toward him. He closed his eyes, repeating the words in his head; this is not real. this is not real. THIS IS NOT REAL!
With this, he rushed at the man, aiming to catch him in his charge onto his shoulder, and slam him against one of the tombstones, hoping the hit would be enough to knock him out, or at least hurt him enough for this madness to wash away.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 18:10:47 GMT -8
Dewitt pointed his arm towards Silence, and let it go.
The thin saplings of bloody thorn and spine shooting out like vines of eldritch death.
Such was the way of anger and conflict.
The eyes bled down tears down Dewitt's face.
The Roses watched, hungry for blood.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 18:15:48 GMT -8
His eyes still close, he did not see the thorn and spine shooting out toward him; although he definitively felt it as he finally hit them. They coiled around bits of his armor, gripping furiously, some of them trying to sleep through the slits of his helmet, agitating furiously; thankfully for him, he finally hit DeWitt, although with much less momentum than he had hoped. With his arm under the man's head and around his shoulder, he purposefully fell backward, slamming him to the ground next to him.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 18:25:51 GMT -8
It was an aggressive attack, followed by an aggressive fall. Dewitt hit his head against the ground, which ultimately pacified him.
His vines returned to his hand, which he now let fall to the ground, eye sockets filling with blood as he reached for his rag, it had to be somewhere.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 18:33:18 GMT -8
Struggling to get back onto his knees, the weight of his armor bearing down on him, the towering knight managed to get one foot up, his other leg still kneeling. Stumbling, he tried to grab DeWitt, his gauntlet-clad hand seeking for a hold onto him. "You're not getting away!" he shouted as he leaned forward to try and catch him. His throat felt dry, and his gut still uncomfortably tight. Although this all felt so unnatural, he quickly rationalized the situation; surely he had hit the man strong enough for him to bleed from his eyes, and what grabbed at him during his charge was his raking fingers. It was all logical, after all.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 18:37:22 GMT -8
Dewitt found his rag, but while clutching it he found himself lifted by the large knight, blood flowing from his face onto the hand of the larger man. "You are heavy. Like guilt."
He placed the rag over his eyes, stopping the bloodflow.
The Roses gasped and snickered, and Dewitt looked up at the knight.
"You have committed much evil."
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