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+---- Thread: unholy screeching from the basement – open (/showthread.php?tid=4751)
unholy screeching from the basement – open - no more - 08-07-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 470px; font-size:8pt; text-align: justify;line-height: 110%; color:black"]It had been an idiotic idea to come here, to seek out the Ascended and attempt to get back their father when so much was going on, but than she hadn't been thinking. In the wake of finding Goldenluxury injured – she was dead, she couldn't survive that – she had felt as though she were little more than a dead weight, useless for anything more than getting in the way of things, her clumsy attempts to help surely only cementing her sister's demise.
Aita held no recollection of the journey itself, overwhelmed with fear and guilt she had merely gone along when Cleo had spoken to her about getting Jacob back, neither knowing he had already been released and had been on his way back, thinking highly of themselves for children. She had been within a daze, allowing herself to simply follow behind, unsure if such was a good idea but going along for there was nothing else, no reason for her to stay when she could do nothing. And it was as such Bastile had found them, the child caught within her own head to a point she never realised he was there until he was taking them, unable to do anything but try to struggle as they were left in the basement.
A day. He had promised it would only be a day and then he would give them back to Pincher, to their father, but it had been two and he hadn't returned. Another had though, offering them food and water with kind words though Aita had spat curses at them, screaming she wasn't supposed to be here before the tears flowed, before her body collapsed into a heap. Why was she here, she should have been in the tree house learning with the others, learning of the ways she might help her home and yet she was here instead in a small, confined space.
And then it had happened, the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling offering them light blew, a scream tearing from the frightened child as darkness enveloped them. She could hear the chaos outside, others startled by this seeking their friends and family, offering comfort and checking to be sure all was right, and there the two were, Aita blindly stumbling along, seeking out her sister. “Cleo,” strained was her whisper as she crouched by her side, pressing into her, seeking warmth and comfort, but there was none to be found.
Though she could feel a heartbeat, clear and strong, it felt as though she had passed, barely moving beyond the raise and fall of her chest with each breath. Fear took hold of the exhausted sage and she scrambled back to the door, screaming before she even got there. “Let us out! Please! I jus wanna go home!”
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - VERSAILLESPALACE - 08-07-2018
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - tori - 08-07-2018
The idea of having kids locked in a god forsaken basement was not his first idea of how to get back at the Typhoon. So yeah, they did some waltzing in and didn't think that something would happen, but the poor things were probably on edge enough without this new development. The idea of being so young and locked down below in a foreign, enemy territory gave him the chills. It was that factor of the unknown and the worst, he wouldn't be surprised if they thought they were going to torture or kill them, he'd think the same thing in their place. He was all for fighting the pirates to keep the honor of his home, his family, but there were children in the basement. How could you say that out loud and not feel a little bit gross?
He had paced back and forth, trying to decide whether to check on them or have to face Roy and Bast's potential wrath, and in the end he figured if they were all going to die, he'd rather die after trying to help actual children. After all, he was a kid, more or less. Maybe on the older end of adolescence but still, child.
The desperate pleas were arguably the final nail in his argument's coffin, sending him straight to the captives without another word to anyone else. However, he found Versailles had already beat him to it, leaving him a little more inclined to communicate with the young ones, he wouldn't look like the only one in the group to check on these kids, and by extent look like a traitor.
He let out a quiet sigh, stepping beside the softly glowing panther and wincing at the eeriness of the darkened basement. Bastille...what the hell was he thinking? A basement? "First Jacob and now this. Pincher is going to kill us." Alex muttered, wondering if they'd crossed a line with this. Was it business or just a personal thing? Schoolyard bullies but with more torture. He shook his head. "Focus on the kids, Alex. Focus on the kids."
He was so grateful for Vi's glowing pelt, looking like the most beautiful night sky in contrast to this hellish room. Hopefully the captives would get some comfort out of it. "We're going to get this place up again, you won't be here long." Bold statement? Maybe. This was essentially ransom, a little unfair to them. He wished they'd never shown up here. He wished this black out never happened and more importantly, he wished the Typhoon had better things to do.
He had paced back and forth, trying to decide whether to check on them or have to face Roy and Bast's potential wrath, and in the end he figured if they were all going to die, he'd rather die after trying to help actual children. After all, he was a kid, more or less. Maybe on the older end of adolescence but still, child.
The desperate pleas were arguably the final nail in his argument's coffin, sending him straight to the captives without another word to anyone else. However, he found Versailles had already beat him to it, leaving him a little more inclined to communicate with the young ones, he wouldn't look like the only one in the group to check on these kids, and by extent look like a traitor.
He let out a quiet sigh, stepping beside the softly glowing panther and wincing at the eeriness of the darkened basement. Bastille...what the hell was he thinking? A basement? "First Jacob and now this. Pincher is going to kill us." Alex muttered, wondering if they'd crossed a line with this. Was it business or just a personal thing? Schoolyard bullies but with more torture. He shook his head. "Focus on the kids, Alex. Focus on the kids."
He was so grateful for Vi's glowing pelt, looking like the most beautiful night sky in contrast to this hellish room. Hopefully the captives would get some comfort out of it. "We're going to get this place up again, you won't be here long." Bold statement? Maybe. This was essentially ransom, a little unfair to them. He wished they'd never shown up here. He wished this black out never happened and more importantly, he wished the Typhoon had better things to do.
♡♡♡
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - ADAKIAS - 08-07-2018
/ a ngry sis track
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - no more - 08-07-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 470px; font-size:7.5pt; font-family:verdana; text-align: justify;line-height: 110%; color:black"]There is only fear in dark eyes, lips parting with a soft murmur of sound one could not mistake as anything but fear, the tiny body drawing closer to her sister, instinctive in her desire to protect though her heart feels as though it might escape pushing at her ribs with each ragged beat. For a time Aita could do nothing but watch as the door seemed to bow beneath the pressure placed upon it, struggling to keep at bay the tears, yet the cry which escapes her is clear once the door is opened. Flinching away as it slams against the wall the young sage presses closer to Cleo, wanting nothing more than to be left with her, never realising this was caused by her own actions, her previous pleas fading from memory.
Gentle and soft, a voice she is unfamiliar with and yet offers only kindness if not words given a sweet touch to soften the blow. Within her throat her breath catches, escaping in a hiccup once she was able to finally force it through, her movements slow as she lifted her head towards the stranger. For a time she can only stare for she is like nothing she had come to see upon the island she called home, seemingly a constellation of her own written across dark fur, an overpowering desire to touch and count those points, to see if they are truly apart of her or painted on, briefly taking her. But once more that fear closes around her mind, a steel bear trap with teeth tearing at her, never relenting in their pursuit to take her down, as the panther continues to speak.
They were stuck in here. It had been an idiotic thing to follow Cleo here, to seek out Jacob in hopes they might take him back when they were just children, too young even for basic self defence training, the trek to this place long and gruelling upon both, yet they had ignored it all, the threat of death never once touched Aita's mind. Now it seemed all she could think on for there seemed nothing else, the sobs finally breaking through. No thought is put to her actions, just the want for comfort, a closeness she had only had with a select few, shaky, stiff limbs drawing her closer to Versailles until she made an attempt to wrap her arms around one of her legs, burying her face into her fur.
“I-I'm sorry, I jus wanted ta get ma da back, I didn mean nutin,” Aita struggled to get the words out between each sob, mind clearly turning to the thought that it was their presence here that had caused this, something about them enough to force this lock down. For a time she focused entirely upon her breathing once she had finished speaking before another voice rose, a soft squeak of surprise touched with fear escaping her, one dark eye peaking around Vi to look upon the next.
He was harder to see, the darkness of his pelt mixing all too well with the shadows which filled this space, yet she had no need to see him to reply to his words. “Ya promise? A-an it was us, not Capin, our fault,” rushing to get the last words out Aita hoped they got her meaning in the words, trying to make it clear she would be sure Pincher listened to the fact they had decided to come here alone, this had been their own fault not that of the Ascended members. She might have harboured little interest in the political side of matters but she had been attempt to brush up on it and knew this was her own fault, a stupid idea she would take the punishment for, not force upon the innocent few who proved caring towards them when they were from an enemy group. "I can 'elp, I-I can 'elp da Soothsayers, or uh... healers." A tone of guilt touches her next words as she readily gave the offer, yet its purpose was somewhat selfish in turn, her want to learn from the medics in turn for this clear, but if it made things easier and would allow them to leave she would do what was necessary.
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - VERSAILLESPALACE - 08-07-2018
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - BASTILLEPAW - 08-08-2018
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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS
BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES
Bastille left from handing out assignments to the basement, having realized that he had two little shits to release now that they were all fucking trapped in here. He wasn’t exactly pleased with this turn of events. He’d expected something a little quicker: he keeps the kids for a few hours, maybe a day at most while he prepared to go see Pinch, and then they had a nice easy member exchange. Pincher had probably fucking tortured his people, so Bastille didn’t exactly feel bad about handing over two perfectly healthy children after a couple of hours of captivity. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt them, nor had he actually planned on taking kids until they were right there. Of course shit would be messy, though.
He found that his sister had beaten him to it, however, and he sighed at the sight of her and the feistier of the two sisters. Alex was there too, he noted. [b]”I see you beat me here,” he mused dryly, not bothering to point out she’d gone ahead and freed prisoners. He didn’t really care, frankly. They were all trapped now. His pale stare dropped to the girl, and he offered a rueful smile. [b]”Sorry, squirt. Looks like we’re keeping you a little longer than intended.”
He found that his sister had beaten him to it, however, and he sighed at the sight of her and the feistier of the two sisters. Alex was there too, he noted. [b]”I see you beat me here,” he mused dryly, not bothering to point out she’d gone ahead and freed prisoners. He didn’t really care, frankly. They were all trapped now. His pale stare dropped to the girl, and he offered a rueful smile. [b]”Sorry, squirt. Looks like we’re keeping you a little longer than intended.”
[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - rhosmari - 08-08-2018
[align=center][div style="0px; width:450px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px; color:black;"]Her prerogative had not been to come to the basement at all. Instead she should have been in the control room. Should have been. She'd told herself not to go to the basement because of those kids being down there. The ones that Bastille had found wandering in the territory before locking them up. Hell, she had even told herself not to go to that basement, especially after the thing she had said in the meeting. The thing no one seemed to notice slip from her muzzle but then again she wasn't going to refresh their memories or even bring it up again. She could take matters into her own paws if need be. Yet, she had tried her hardest to keep away because something was wrong. Rather anyone else noticed it or not she got this creeping feeling along her spine as if something was crawling up her back. Flashes of that white tree, always that white tree but it mattered little now.
Quiet paws stepped forward through the darkness, eyes partially glowed with ominous amber. Such a deeper shade than they normally was. Her black pelt kept her well hidden as she watched the group all clamoring around the kids whom she no longer saw as just that. War was pain. War shattered and broke things and now she only saw the kids as bargaining chips, something to be used. Her mind was bending and breaking to some dark will that was stronger than herself and her eyes narrowed upon one of the kids. Claws lightly unsheathed and she breathed in a low breath, head twitching, a feeling pressing heavily on the back of her neck where her implants used to be. A strange mental itch she just couldn't shake and yet she didn't say anything, just watched with a vague look of pain upon her face for the moment and then after another second she seemed fine. Fine enough to come forward now and shift her gaze over to Bastille. "We should be getting to that control room....soon." Her voice was neutral as she swept her gaze back over the room. Her tail wavering just slightly before she looked to the kid again.
It happened like a lighting rod. In her head she saw her movements, her claws outstretched and piecing the child's throat before anyone had any idea what had even happened. She was quick enough that was for sure and she could do it, she could. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back a bit, wincing outwardly as she turned her head away from the kid as if bitch slapped. Her jaw trembled before she forcibly turned her back to all of them, shoulders hunched and claws tapping against the ground. Calm, calm. Her eyes closed for a moment before she breathed out a breath and forced herself to sit up straight but she didn't turn back to look at them. They would decide where the kids would go and she try to desperately keep herself away from them.
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - ★ HAZEL - 08-08-2018
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with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair
Of course, when Bastille had mentioned he had children locked in said basement, Hazel's panicked mind had flown to the image of a cell, barred with metal and little suggestion of comfort. The thought of a permanently enclosed space was already scary enough, so the naked concept of two supposedly innocent children shivering on the cold cement floor had been close to enraging with her temper. The only thing that had shoved it aside was...everything else, really. The second she had managed to gain some level of control over her emotions and memories, she had essentially followed Vi and Alex, Aita's scream finally registering in her brain. She had forgotten that everyone lived in the basement, and it could possibly be as bad as her mind was making it out to be.
Upon seeing the children, Hazel found herself less angry with Bastille than she originally thought. He'd said that they would remain unhurt, which was a relief to hear but part of her still wanted that visual confirmation. They were tiny little things, too, their auras silhouetting their small figures. Hazel stopped beside Bast, struggling to keep her heart rate under control. She nodded along at Vi's suggestion. "Somewhere other than here would be good," She agreed.
The girl shifted a faintly glowing gaze to Carolina as she spoke, ears twitching in acknowledgement as the suggestion wasn't directed at her. Then she shifted her eyes back to the children, drawing in a shaky breath to smile. "We don't bite," She assured. "And we definitely won't keep you down here; that would be mean." Her language was curbed carefully for the girls' sake, though she was trying not to sound...patronizing. "What's your name, puer puella?"
Upon seeing the children, Hazel found herself less angry with Bastille than she originally thought. He'd said that they would remain unhurt, which was a relief to hear but part of her still wanted that visual confirmation. They were tiny little things, too, their auras silhouetting their small figures. Hazel stopped beside Bast, struggling to keep her heart rate under control. She nodded along at Vi's suggestion. "Somewhere other than here would be good," She agreed.
The girl shifted a faintly glowing gaze to Carolina as she spoke, ears twitching in acknowledgement as the suggestion wasn't directed at her. Then she shifted her eyes back to the children, drawing in a shaky breath to smile. "We don't bite," She assured. "And we definitely won't keep you down here; that would be mean." Her language was curbed carefully for the girls' sake, though she was trying not to sound...patronizing. "What's your name, puer puella?"
© MADI
Re: unholy screeching from the basement – open - no more - 08-15-2018
[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"][ replying late to my own thread? of course ]
Too many voices, all coming together into a mass of sound, individual words unable to be picked out, nothing more than static scraping along the inside of their skull. It hurt.
Hitching breath, catching within their throat before it rose once more in sobs, tiny body shaking as they struggled to swallow them, to hide it all away. They weren't meant to cry, to show any sign of weakness but what could one expect of a child driven to exhaustion, barely hanging on by a mere thread as their body tried to shut down, force them to process things within the depths of unconsciousness. Against the encroaching darkness they fought as best they could, trying to ground themself, to focus only on the world about them. And then it was there, the soft glow of the light dancing before their eyes, the gentle weight draped about their back an unfamiliar comfort. The words are lost, swallowed within thoughts which bounce about their skull like ping pong balls, clamouring for their attention, but the gentle tone gets through, the sense of shared experience. Quiet was the sound they murmured into Vi's leg, the ear she brushed flicking in response, everything within the child focused upon keeping themself grounded.
And then he was there.
Why was his the voice to be the clearest, a knife cutting through the static, breaking it apart until his voice was all they could hear, each word only twisting the knife further. So much lingered upon the edge of their tongue, words they wanted to spit at him, curses once so easily flung in the face of others now nothing more than dying embers, fading as they tried to grasp at them, to find their voice. “Why...” It was all Aita could force out, croaking and low, head slowly turning to regard Bastille. “Why.”
Why did you bring us here when you could have taken us back, why did you not see how bad an idea this was, why did you lock us away?
So many questions ran through their mind, and yet none arose to their lips, their gaze steely though tears gathered still, waiting to be shed. Slowly did the child regain control and beneath anger did they hide it all, the pain and fear pushed aside in favour for that fire, so familiar as it pooled within their stomach, forcing each breath to even out, struggling to hold back the tears.