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+---- Thread: tear you open, live inside you // o - entrance ritual (/showthread.php?tid=618)
tear you open, live inside you // o - entrance ritual - georgie - 04-08-2018
// if you wanna have smthn Juicy to respond to she's gonna be sending out like, hella telepathic noise all night so if u want ur character to pick up on some thoughts, all the stuff that's being projected is in bold italic
She hadn't been looking forward to this, but it was necessary. It wasn't like she could just keep refusing every strange drink offered her way. Georgie had been prodding in the brains of her new groupmates long enough to get the gist: she was going to be made to drink something that was going to dig it's nasty fingers into her subconcious and pull all the shit she had tried to keep a lid on all her existence to the forefront. Georgie didn't want to do this but it was tradition and places like these, they liked tradition. So she had to like tradition. Georgie did, that was. The thing underneath rolled its eyes.
She didn't like the taste but she smiled and laughed after gulping down the weird jungle juice when it was offered to her. Traditions, traditions. She would flutter her eyelashes and beam and look so much like a girl in need of protecting for a moment longer before skipping inland. Maybe to try and make them regret having her do this inane ritual, even if the regret was slight, or maybe just to prolong the act. Her spots faded into the foliage and her humming matched the twilight birdsong and bug calls and for a moment Georgie thought that maybe it would be alright. Maybe the drink had no influence on something like her. I just got 'duped' into taking a pleasant nighttime walk. This ritual's such a fucking joke.
But it wasn't long before the jungle started to look wrong. Opalescent tile peaked from beneath the dirt and the broad, waxy leaves of the tropical flora, shining bright in a way that it had no right to do. Tree trunks were ivory pillars that disappeared with no discernible end into the sky and everything was cold and much too quiet. The cold permeated her bones but she continued forward because behind her was only more of the same and now she knew what she was facing.
Georgie stumbled. The ground, both grounds, the tile and the jungle floor that seemed to be battling to exist in the same space at once, kept shifting under her. She thought for a moment that the pillars were coming undone before she realized that they were taking a different shape. More familiar shapes. She averted her eyes because she knew to, knew that she shouldn't look at them directly, it's only a hallucination, but it felt realer than she wanted and she, it, the thing that lived in Georgie's skin, was corralled backward all the same, and she didn't feel the edge until she was over it and the shining, too-bright coronas surrounding them were far above and she, far below.
I'll kill you for this. She was somewhere grey now, the color filling her mouth and nose like ashes, falling in flakes from her body until she realized that it [i]was her body, fur sloughing off muscle sloughing off bone, meat and ash together. I need another body. Bring me another body. Her eyes withered in their sockets, vision fading, going white. A shining, too-bright white. [i]I just need another one... One more. She needed another body. She could live forever that way, only if she got another one. [i]I don't want to die. Don't kill me. She could feel her stomach's skin turn to wet ashes and her insides spilled free, ropes of red intestines that soon crumbled as well. [i]I can't die like this. Someone needs to let me in. Anything, I'll do anything. She was trapped in her own decaying body. She couldn't move, couldn't think, could only feel herself rotting and disappearing. The telepathic cries she was sending out soon went from begging to shrieking. If this was her end, then no one would have peace. The knowledge that this was only a hallucination had been forgotten in the haze of fear that Georgie had lost herself in.
The screams and the pleading persisted until just before daybreak. Little by little, she was aware of herself, that she was whole and unharmed. She could see. She could move. Georgie found her footing, legs trembling, and she searched for the route back to Barracuda Bay, wincing at signs of her struggle. Fresh claw marks scored into the bark of trees, prints in the moist dirt that looked as though she had tripped over her own feet. [i]How embarrassing.
When she returned, when it was time to write her confession and cast it out to sea, Georgie left the paper blank. It was hastily shoved into a bottle and the bottle was thrown with similar haste, presumably before anyone could notice that she hadn't recorded anything. She was seething, but kept it hidden. A sunshine smile crawled onto Georgie's lips as she whirled around, perking up. "[color=#d4af37]That wasn't so bad!" I hate these fucking pirates.
She hadn't been looking forward to this, but it was necessary. It wasn't like she could just keep refusing every strange drink offered her way. Georgie had been prodding in the brains of her new groupmates long enough to get the gist: she was going to be made to drink something that was going to dig it's nasty fingers into her subconcious and pull all the shit she had tried to keep a lid on all her existence to the forefront. Georgie didn't want to do this but it was tradition and places like these, they liked tradition. So she had to like tradition. Georgie did, that was. The thing underneath rolled its eyes.
She didn't like the taste but she smiled and laughed after gulping down the weird jungle juice when it was offered to her. Traditions, traditions. She would flutter her eyelashes and beam and look so much like a girl in need of protecting for a moment longer before skipping inland. Maybe to try and make them regret having her do this inane ritual, even if the regret was slight, or maybe just to prolong the act. Her spots faded into the foliage and her humming matched the twilight birdsong and bug calls and for a moment Georgie thought that maybe it would be alright. Maybe the drink had no influence on something like her. I just got 'duped' into taking a pleasant nighttime walk. This ritual's such a fucking joke.
But it wasn't long before the jungle started to look wrong. Opalescent tile peaked from beneath the dirt and the broad, waxy leaves of the tropical flora, shining bright in a way that it had no right to do. Tree trunks were ivory pillars that disappeared with no discernible end into the sky and everything was cold and much too quiet. The cold permeated her bones but she continued forward because behind her was only more of the same and now she knew what she was facing.
Georgie stumbled. The ground, both grounds, the tile and the jungle floor that seemed to be battling to exist in the same space at once, kept shifting under her. She thought for a moment that the pillars were coming undone before she realized that they were taking a different shape. More familiar shapes. She averted her eyes because she knew to, knew that she shouldn't look at them directly, it's only a hallucination, but it felt realer than she wanted and she, it, the thing that lived in Georgie's skin, was corralled backward all the same, and she didn't feel the edge until she was over it and the shining, too-bright coronas surrounding them were far above and she, far below.
I'll kill you for this. She was somewhere grey now, the color filling her mouth and nose like ashes, falling in flakes from her body until she realized that it [i]was her body, fur sloughing off muscle sloughing off bone, meat and ash together. I need another body. Bring me another body. Her eyes withered in their sockets, vision fading, going white. A shining, too-bright white. [i]I just need another one... One more. She needed another body. She could live forever that way, only if she got another one. [i]I don't want to die. Don't kill me. She could feel her stomach's skin turn to wet ashes and her insides spilled free, ropes of red intestines that soon crumbled as well. [i]I can't die like this. Someone needs to let me in. Anything, I'll do anything. She was trapped in her own decaying body. She couldn't move, couldn't think, could only feel herself rotting and disappearing. The telepathic cries she was sending out soon went from begging to shrieking. If this was her end, then no one would have peace. The knowledge that this was only a hallucination had been forgotten in the haze of fear that Georgie had lost herself in.
The screams and the pleading persisted until just before daybreak. Little by little, she was aware of herself, that she was whole and unharmed. She could see. She could move. Georgie found her footing, legs trembling, and she searched for the route back to Barracuda Bay, wincing at signs of her struggle. Fresh claw marks scored into the bark of trees, prints in the moist dirt that looked as though she had tripped over her own feet. [i]How embarrassing.
When she returned, when it was time to write her confession and cast it out to sea, Georgie left the paper blank. It was hastily shoved into a bottle and the bottle was thrown with similar haste, presumably before anyone could notice that she hadn't recorded anything. She was seething, but kept it hidden. A sunshine smile crawled onto Georgie's lips as she whirled around, perking up. "[color=#d4af37]That wasn't so bad!" I hate these fucking pirates.