The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)
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		<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Non-Adult Sandbox =&gt; Non-Adult Roleplays =&gt; Topic started by: MaxAstro on March 18, 2013, 10:56:43 am</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MaxAstro</strong> on <strong>March 18, 2013, 10:56:43 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				((OOC: This is an open RP - feel free to create a character and jump right in!&nbsp; It is the continuation of a story I wrote long ago, but I don't have a story (or even a world) in mind yet.&nbsp; So feel free to use any kind of character - fantasy, science fiction, normal Earth human, w/e.&nbsp; :-)&nbsp; We will create the world as we write about it.&nbsp; The titular character is mine, but other then that feel free to make up whatever you want.))<br><br>The girl trudged slowly through the snowstorm, with no direction in mind.&nbsp; She couldn't remember how long she'd been walking, or why.&nbsp; She couldn't remember how she got here, or where she'd come from.<br><br>She couldn't remember, for that matter, who she was.<br><br>She knew in an instinctive way that the memories were there, inside of her, close at hand but far out of reach.&nbsp; She had given them up, locked them away.&nbsp; She didn't know why.&nbsp; Maybe she didn't want to know.&nbsp; She shivered, but not because of the cold.&nbsp; Strange.&nbsp; She should be cold, she realized.&nbsp; A normal... whatever she was... would be cold.&nbsp; She didn't know how she knew that, but there it was.&nbsp; She held on to the knowledge fiercely, as if it were all she had.&nbsp; Maybe it was.<br><br>One foot went in front of the other, over and over again.&nbsp; Her fiery red-orange dress fluttered in the driving wind.&nbsp; It had been a beautiful dress once, she thought.&nbsp; It looked very... expensive, was the word that came to mind.&nbsp; She didn't know what it meant, but it seemed to fit.&nbsp; But now the dress was a tatters, unable to stand against the wind and the elements and time.&nbsp; It suited her, she thought.&nbsp; One bare foot went in front of the other.<br><br>She reached up a hand to brush her messy, blood-red hair out of her face.&nbsp; It was a futile gesture - like the rest of her, her hair was at the mercy of the storm, out of her control.&nbsp; She started to drop her hand to her side, paused, studied it.&nbsp; Her fingernails were painted red.&nbsp; When had that happened?&nbsp; Had they always been like that?<br><br>A sudden revelation stopped her entirely, even her stubborn feet.&nbsp; Human.&nbsp; That's what a thing shaped like her was called.&nbsp; She was human.&nbsp; The thought stirred strange, undefinable feelings within her.&nbsp; As if in response, the storm began to clear.&nbsp; The curtain of sleet and snow that blinded her vision beyond a few feet began to retract.&nbsp; Just for a moment, she saw a strange vision in the snow - herself, reflected back at her.&nbsp; <em>That's what I look like?</em> she thought wonderingly.&nbsp; A human girl, maybe eighteen years old, in a ruined dress, with a shoulder-length mop of crimson hair and dull red eyes and snowy pale skin.&nbsp; Like a drop of blood spilled in the snow.&nbsp; Like her dress, the metaphor seemed to suit her.&nbsp; Her reflection stared accusingly at her for the briefest of instants, and then was gone.<br><br>With unnatural speed, the snowstorm gave way to clear sky.&nbsp; For the first time she was able to study her surroundings.<br><br>She saw...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alexxia</strong> on <strong>March 20, 2013, 01:26:56 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Haunting images tugged at the girls subconscious ,it gave direction, life and meaning to one recently stripped of all coherent thought. Dazed and brutalized, an elfin face peered from the covert circlet of her furred cape as she trudged ever onward.&nbsp; Spectral fingers, caught and ensnared the lush cape ,drawing it snugly about her skeletal frame.&nbsp; She could scarce remember her name . Stripped of even the basic memories, this seemed a beacon in a landscape as barren as her soul.&nbsp; Diandra&nbsp; . Deandra.&nbsp; The litany became a feral chant filled with desperation . Stumbling ,one foot tripped over the other as near sole less boots became more a hazard at this point then a comfort. <br><br>Slightly out of breath ,one spindly hand swept up tucking wispy ,silvered strands beneath the warmth of the bonnet as she came to a halt. Huge vacant grey eyes crawled over the horizon, seeking…something elusive and just beyond her ability to recall. Shivering as each snow flake seemed on a personal mission to locate,infiltrate and commence war on tender flesh, she crammed&nbsp; icy fingers deeply within the pockets adorning each side of the enlarged garment. Bereft of even the basic skills of survival, She simply resigned herself to death by element induced hypothermia. If only her thoughts weren't so scattered . Try as hard as&nbsp; she might, there was no breaching the blankness . Nothing. Nada. Zip.<br><br>It was in this moment ,the giving up that&nbsp; rare insight illuminated her fog- shrouded remembrances ,brought to life by the endless array of nothingness which stretched in front of her as far as her sight allowed.&nbsp; <br>The circle of atonement , this was what her mission ,her quest was and had been ordained since before her birth. Renewed vigor sent blood and purpose to limbs slowly freezing in this horrendous clime. Stumbling and careening wildly ,both palms flew outwards ,a jarring thud shot tremendous pain along her scrawny arms.&nbsp; So close . She was so close ,she could practically taste it. Using what little energy stores she had left ,tortured elbows locked as she&nbsp; thrust herself into an upright position. <br>Instinct guided one raw and bleeding palm towards the oddly shaped amulet which swung wildly to and fro upon a filigreed silver chain. Broken nails, swiping&nbsp; smeared streaks of crimson across an amber oval while bits and pieces of her past unfolded . Fragmented and discordant imagery,pierced her cranium as the film of memory began rolling through her mind.<br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MaxAstro</strong> on <strong>March 20, 2013, 09:34:09 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For a long moment the girl in crimson regarded the elven woman without apparent reaction.&nbsp; Only when she saw the woman stumble and fall, saw the blood on her fingers, did she realize that what she was seeing was a living creature.&nbsp; Another... human?&nbsp; That seemed slightly wrong somehow.&nbsp; Still, something akin to concern stirred within her.&nbsp; She did not want to watch this woman, who seemed somehow so determined and yet so lost, die.<br><br>With purpose filling her, a few powerful steps took her to the elf's side.&nbsp; Small fingers clasped about the woman's shoulder and pulled her to her feet with surprising strength.&nbsp; She held on a moment to steady the other, and then her hand fell back to her side.&nbsp; She waiting, eager to see what this strange new creature would do.&nbsp; Her face was expressionless, but her eyes stared deep into Diandra's.&nbsp; They seemed to say, <em>Don't give up.&nbsp; You can't give up, not yet.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alexxia</strong> on <strong>March 21, 2013, 07:59:31 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That brief contact, which had her surging to unsteady feet, seemed to snap an invisible thread. She couldn't remember the last time any human or otherwise, had made contact.&nbsp; She did know that the action was as unfamiliar as the ground beneath her feet.<br><br>&nbsp;Instantaneous reaction became blurred motion as&nbsp; Deandra’s dirt encrusted nail’s arced toward, latching onto the stranger’s red dress.&nbsp; Feeling a compelling need to protect, her fingers curled into the thin material.<br>&nbsp;Why was this human-like girl just standing there?&nbsp; Didn’t she know about them ? .&nbsp; <em>Go to the circle, you'll be safe there.</em>&nbsp; Although the top of her forehead barely crested that of the stranger’s midsection, she gave the imprisoned material a shake or two for emphasis.<br><br>&nbsp;Blinking rapidly,&nbsp; she waited a moment …letting her warning sink in before dropping both arms against her sides . It seemed as if time stood still. Seconds bled into minutes which turned into an agony of eternity before she stepped nimbly around and sped towards the West, leaving the stranger to follow or make her own way.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MaxAstro</strong> on <strong>March 21, 2013, 10:52:50 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Safe...&nbsp; The word echoes in the crimson girl's mind.&nbsp; Somehow it seemed silly - of course she was safe, she had... the train of memory crashed.&nbsp; There was a brief but vivid mental image of a boy standing guardedly in front of her, making her safe.&nbsp; But... he was gone now.&nbsp; She was alone.&nbsp; And she didn't even know who he had been.<br><br>Realizing that the strange small not-quite-human was running off, she decided to follow.&nbsp; One foot before the other again, but at least she was telling her feet where to go this time.<br><br>Minutes passed, and then a sudden impulse seized her.&nbsp; She grabbed the elven girl's arm again, spinning her about.&nbsp; Once she was sure she had the other girl's attention, she bent down and began tracing symbols in the snow.&nbsp; When she finished, she looked up expectantly.&nbsp; If she was knowledgeable about such things, Diandra would recognize the symbols as an ancient language, one not spoken in thousands of years.<br><br>If she saw that Diandra didn't recognize the writing, the girl would write again in a different language and then another, both languages Diandra had never seen before.&nbsp; Not seeming to get frustrated by her lack of success, the girl simply tried a fourth time.&nbsp; This time she wrote in a language Diandra knew: Elven, although a somewhat dated style of Elven.<br><br><em>Shinkuko</em>, the writing said.&nbsp; The girl in crimson stood expectantly, looking at Diandra for a reaction.&nbsp; Something about the way she stood, the look in her eyes, told Diandra that this was the girl's name.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alexxia</strong> on <strong>March 21, 2013, 12:46:04 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Glancing at the singular word then back at the human-like creature, she nodded.&nbsp; Dropping to her haunches, she scrawled directly behind, forming a sentence.&nbsp; Shinkuku……. Deandra………Follow. <br><br>&nbsp;Standing, she brushed sand off of her fingers . The change was coming. Scenes blurred her vision causing her slight form to sway as the imagery played out. Blood. There was so much blood.&nbsp; Light seeped through the kaleidoscope of horror, unraveling it’s hold.&nbsp; <br><br>Expelling pent breath, she stomped on the middle elven word, obliterating it.&nbsp; Eyes feverishly lit with determination, snapped toward Shinkuku.&nbsp; It was imperative that she make herself understood. Gesturing, she pointed from beginning to end, Shinkuku………..Follow. Hoping upon hope that this had been enough of an explanation. She rather admired the others grit and creative improvising. <br><br>Attention now returning to the ever approaching threat, would see&nbsp; amber laced irises scan the horizon.&nbsp; The terrain seemed formidably rocky once one left the meadow . Delicate nostrils quivered ,scenting the slight breeze and dissecting each acrid odor in her quest for sustenance, rumbling belly propelling each foot forward.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MaxAstro</strong> on <strong>March 22, 2013, 01:52:02 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Shinkuko cocked her head to the side, puzzled.&nbsp; The last time, Deandra had spoken to her - used her mouth to form sound and words as she once could but had forgotten how.&nbsp; This time she had written in the sand instead.&nbsp; Had Deandra forgotten how to speak?&nbsp; Was it because of her?&nbsp; ...Wait, sand?<br><br>Eyes went wide with shock as the change swept over the landscape, turning snow and cold to sand and heat in an instant's time.&nbsp; It didn't affect her, of course - she felt the heat no more than she felt the cold.&nbsp; But she knew in an instinctive way that change of this nature was unnatural, wrong somehow.&nbsp; Or at least, different than she was used to.<br><br>Seeing anew the determination in Deandra's eyes, Shinkuko nodded at the elven girl and set off towards the rocky terrain - moving at a speed that the shorter girl might find difficult to maintain.&nbsp; In the back of her mind, memories were replayed and something came together.&nbsp; There had been more than determination in the elf's eyes.&nbsp; There had been fear; fear for her, a desire to protect her.<br><br>Shinkuko smiled.&nbsp; She felt safe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ElvenKitten</strong> on <strong>March 24, 2013, 11:45:40 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Caitlyn&nbsp; spat a mouthful of sand out of her mouth half remembering it should have been seawater. She stood up slowly her body aching all-over, she brushed the sand off her clothing which was black tactical gear of some sort. She saw a compact assault weapon of some sort she recalled as an FNP90, she picked it up and fiddled with it immediately knowing it was just a useless piece of scrap now. She had a holster for her side arm and a sheath for a blade but both were empty. She shook her head to get the sand out of her long brown hair and checked the various ouches on her webbing, all were empty aside from one containing a small swiss army knife and a chocolate bar.<br>She took stock of her surroundings just sand and rocks as far as she could see, she picked a direction and started walking taking the useless weapon with her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MaxAstro</strong> on <strong>March 25, 2013, 10:11:24 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Shinkuko crested a small ridge, easily clambering over the sand and rocks.&nbsp; She glanced back for a moment to make sure Deandra was still following, then waited a couple seconds for the elf to catch up.&nbsp; When she returned her gaze to the path ahead, she immediately froze.<br><br>Another human had appeared, stepping out from some rocks a short distance away.&nbsp; She looked different from Deandra, and wore strange clothing, but seemed to be a regular human.&nbsp; So why did Shinkuko feel so suddenly apprehensive...&nbsp; Her eyes fixed on the woman's hands.&nbsp; A weapon.&nbsp; She was carrying a weapon.<br><br><em>FN P90 selective fire personal defense weapon.&nbsp; Human origin.&nbsp; Introduced Earth year 1990AD.&nbsp; Fires 5.7x28mm ammunition at approximately 900RPM with a muzzle velocity of 715m/s.&nbsp; Effective range roughly 200 meters.</em>''<br><br>Shinkuko grimaced and clutched her head in pain, swaying slightly on her feet as she was suddenly bombarded with information about the black device the woman carried, most of which was words that made no sense to her.&nbsp; With a force of will, driven by her new-found determination to let nothing happen to Deandra, Shinkuko forced the torrent of data to stop.&nbsp; Recovering her senses, she threw her arms wide and regarded the new woman with a set look; Caitlyn would see that Shinkuko was acting as a living shield between her and Deandra.<br><br>Deandra had made her safe, and now Shinkuko was going to return the favor.<br><br>-------------------------<br><br><em>The Hunter tasted the air again, and this time something intruded on it's consciousness.&nbsp; <strong>Prey.</strong>&nbsp; The singular thought seared through it's being, bringing change.&nbsp; It's wings tilted, shifting it from one air current to another.&nbsp; It's entire consciousness became focused on it's long-awaited task.&nbsp; It felt its body twisting, elongating, becoming more aerodynamic.&nbsp; A better Hunter.&nbsp; The prey was distant still, far beyond the horizon.&nbsp; But it was tireless, and it had the scent.<br><br>The Hunt would end soon.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ElvenKitten</strong> on <strong>March 25, 2013, 04:46:55 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Caitlyn raised her arms above her head when she saw Shinkuko and Deandra, her useless weapon hanging from it's shoulder strap. She approached slowly careful not to make sudden moves and the Shinkuko's body language told her the weapon wouldn't help matters.<br>"Hello, my name is Caitlyn Moore I mean you no harm" she shouted with a feint Scottish accent.<br>&nbsp;She slowly took the weapon and placed it on the ground
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Crimson Child (Open Invitation!)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MaxAstro</strong> on <strong>March 26, 2013, 01:44:47 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Shinkuko let her arms fall to her side, her head cocked as she considered Caitlyn's words.&nbsp; Finally she nodded and gave an inscrutable smile.&nbsp; Moving with surprising speed, she walked over to Caitlyn, grabbed her hand, and led her - gently but firmly - over to where Deandra waited.&nbsp; Releasing her hand, she started away... then seemed to think better of it.&nbsp; Walking back to the weapon, she picked it up and slung it over her shoulder; it looked almost humorously anachronistic in contrast to her garb.<br><br>Returning to the other two women, she gave each a small smile, then pointed in the direction she and Deandra had been heading before.&nbsp; Without waiting to see if she was being followed, she set out again.<br><br>-------------------------<br><br><em>The Hunter was becoming frustrated.&nbsp; It had been so sure it had found the prey's trail, but twice now the trail had been lost, only to be found in a different direction.&nbsp; Now it circled an updraft warily, not trusting the scent anymore.&nbsp; Once, twice, three times it circled, each time climbing higher.&nbsp; Finally, when it could no longer smell the prey's scent, it reached out with its other senses.&nbsp; Perceptions beyond mortal comprehension searched the shifting lands around it, seeking... seeking... <strong>there.</strong>&nbsp; Something akin to joy surged through it, and it swept into a powerful dive to build up speed.&nbsp; The prey had eluded it for a brief moment, but it was the Hunter.<br><br>The Hunter never failed.</em>
			</dd>
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