Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Whispered Desire on 21-01-2014, 03:37:03</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>21-01-2014, 03:37:03</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b7/Mythological_creature.jpg)</div>Marina Oceas<br><br><br><br>It was a cool spring evening as Marina sat at the edge of the small dock, toes dipping into the water, vibrant blue eyes starting out remembering….the year was 1692, and screams filled the air.&nbsp; Her mother…her father…<br><br>It was her thirteenth year, at least in human years. The year of her coming of age, even though at that time she had no idea what it meant or why it had happened.&nbsp; But now, in the present day, she could remember it vividly as though it had only happened yesterday.&nbsp; There was the trip to the lake with the other kids, she’d waded in but then something happened when she’d gotten into the water.<br><br>The strange markings that had always covered her body to some degree had begun to glow when she’d stepped into the water.&nbsp; She tried to get back out of the water before any of the other kids saw it, but it had been too late.&nbsp; They had screamed, pointing fingers at her and calling her a witch.<br><br>Katrina, the name given to her by the couple who had found her as a child and kept her, having told everyone she was a family member from another town who had lost her parents, had ran home and into the loving arms of her mother.&nbsp; When she had shown the marks to her adopted parents they had been consumed with worry for the girl. They had always known that she was different; they had hidden it well enough but now with the constant threat of anyone who was even slightly different being found out and branded a witch, they knew that it was time for her to leave.<br><br>Her mother had begged her.&nbsp; “Marina, you must run…run away and never look back.”<br><br>Marina had run, but she had not listened to her mother.&nbsp; She had turned back, the brave young girl refusing to abandon her parents.<br><br>That was in 1692.&nbsp; And now, Marina Oceas, alias Katrina Thompson was alone and the year was…<br><br>She really had no clue what the year was anymore.&nbsp; The night she had returned to see both her mother and father burned at the stake, having been branded a witch and heretic, she had run.&nbsp; She had run until she could not walk anymore, until her feet somehow had remembered the way back.<br><br>Back to where it had begun, or almost too where it had began.&nbsp; No, this was not Atlantis.&nbsp; This was the place that her real parents had brought her to when she’d begged them to make the elders see what she had saw..<br><br>The destruction of Atlantis.<br><br>--------------------------------------------------<br><em><br>*SNAP*&nbsp; </em><br><br>Then there was silence.<br><br>The white haired Atlantian’s head snapped upward, the noise having startled her.&nbsp; <br><em><br>*CRUNCH*</em><br><br><br>Marina jumped up, racing back towards the ruins..towards the place that she had called home for the past three hundred plus years.&nbsp; Nestled in a remote location high above the Eastern seaboard, the ruins of her people remained.&nbsp; The ruins of those who had listened to her parents, to their daughters vision and had fled from the paradise that was known as Atlantis.<br><br>Although Marina had been raised with the humans, her feet instinctively remembered how to move through the thicket as that of a warrior, quickly and making nary a sound.&nbsp; Within seconds, she had moved back into the ruins, scampering carefully along the upper balcony in silence, and upon hearing the noise again she quickly ducked behind some of the foliage that now over ran the ancient ruins, peering out from behind the only thing visible being the long almost pure white hair that covered her scantily clad form, her clothing having become tattered years ago and only thin strips of cloth remaining to provide her with any form of protection from the elements. But now there was another danger, even more dangerous than the elements.&nbsp; It was an odd sort of smell, but yet one she recognized. <br><br>It was human. Her breath drew into a sharp gasp as she ducked down, hoping that the human had not seen her.&nbsp; Had they finally found her, the witch hunters?&nbsp; Her heart quickened, her blood pounding in her chest as she struggled not to let fear grip her, the scent of the human drawing even nearer to her.<br><br><br><div align="center">(http://d24w6bsrhbeh9d.cloudfront.net/photo/a3YLMQN_460s_v1.jpg)</div><br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>01-02-2014, 20:28:18</strong>
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				<div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://www.thestranger.com/images/blogimages/2010/07/26/1280179265-tom_hardy_shower.jpg)</div></div><br>He wasn't insane. Not wanting to be around people didn't make him insane. The fact that he would sweat and pant and sometimes get panic attacks when in crowds didn't mean that he was insane. People were stupid. His doctor was insane. His parents, his comrades in arms were all judgmental freaks. None of them could understand what he was like, how it felt like to imagine all of the horrible things that people might plan, and if he was in a crowd, getting to him was so easy. They didn't know how that felt like. They hadn't seen what he had seen, felt what he had felt. Everyone had the potential for evil, and what if one of them decided to take it out on him?<br><br>He shook his head. He wasn't insane. He wasn't exactly healthy upstairs either, but that wasn't his fault. A lot had happened in the past few years. He knew that he wasn't healthy. Nightmares plagued him even when he was awake. A dark, dank hole that was too short to stand up in and too small to lie down in. Days, weeks, months... living on fetid water and one meal every two days, just enough to keep him alive. Barely.<br><br>He shuddered and jumped lightly over a log. He had kept himself religiously in shape ever since he had come back. He didn't want to go back to the hospital. He hadn't broken, and he was marginally proud of that. He still wasn't sure if they had actually been doing to him what they had over need of information, or just because they felt like keeping a soldier on ice like that. He was sure that it wasn't how they normally treated POWs. <br><br>Oddly enough, he didn't remember most of his stay in the Afghan prison. Bits and pieces, mostly of smelly holes, pain, cold, hunger, the works, but nothing concrete, nothing solid. The doctors said that he had gone into a coma by the time that they managed to negotiate his release, waking up a couple days after release, in a military hospital in Saudi Arabia. That was six months ago. He had been gaunt, listless, something that the doctors tending to him attributed to lack of vitamins, they worked well to get him back into working order.<br><br>But they couldn't cure the dreams. The dreams came from something else. Something deeper. They transferred him back to the US, where he underwent physical and psychological exams. Physically, he was better than before. Stronger, tougher, with a resilience and stamina that he hadn't shown before. He failed the psych exam, though. He wasn't sure why at the time. He was given an honorable discharge and several medals, along with orders to report to a certain psychiatrist that had dealt with PTSD before.<br><br>He didn't think he needed it until his family cam around and picked him up. Being around them felt terrifying. He didn't know why, but he held his nerve until he was alone and broke down into tears. He had no idea why he was crying, why when an old highschool sweetheart of his ran her hand seductively up the inside of his thigh, he broke her arm in three places. Then he went to see the doctor. Closed placed were a no-no, he immediately found, as he nearly broke down on the elevator ride up to the fifth floor. Something was wrong with him, he realized in that terrifying ride. Something was terribly wrong with him.<br><br>It wasn't his fault!<br><br>The doctor, after three sessions told him that drugs were obviously not the answer. He needed some time away from everybody. People scared him. Their actions, no matter how normal, scared him. Their smiles gave him shivers. Their laughs had him covering his ears and begging them to stop. Why? Why the fuck was he like this? The doctor asked him to try and remember what happened in the 9 months, 2 weeks and 4 days that he had spent incarcerated. He tried. He tried as hard as he could, and nothing came. Small flashes here and there, but now the faces of his captors were replaced with the the faces of ordinary people. The feeling of a rough hand running up the inside of his thigh as three stun batons were placed on his back, but the face was that of Sarah, his highschool sweetheart and now ex-girlfriend. Feel his arms being pulled out of his sockets as freezing water dripped over his head, but now the laughter was that of his family as they watched that foolish but harmless romantic comedy.<br><br>The doctor told him that association was bad when it got to that point, so he needed to remove himself from society. There was a large and mostly unexplored forest three miles from his family's home. He should take a hike. Spend a few weeks by himself, no expectations but surviving from one day to the next. He couldn't deal with the issues if they were hiding in his head, only exploding randomly and uncontrollably. They needed to come out on their own, and once he could see them, he could put them behind him.<br><br>Psycho-babble. He just didn't want Mike Carson around people that he could hurt.<br><br>But he went on the hike anyways. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. He packed a couple days worth of food and a couple canteens, a knife and a pistol for protection and some other items that he might needs, and he set off, working his way deep into the forest, heading steadily west. But he wasn't paying much attention now on this fifth day of hiking, on the reserves of his food. He knew how to hunt, working with traps. He had already set a few and was walking around, looking to make sure that nothing had been unlucky enough to have been caught. But he wasn't paying attention.<br><br>Not until, of course, he tripped on a protruding root and, as he struggled to recapture his balance, the floor began to sway underneath him. He felt it shudder and suddenly, a loud crack sounded across the forest, and he dropped into the hole that he had made. A cry was cut short as he landed not ten feet below, twisting his ankle in the fall. He rolled and came up again, favoring his right leg as he looked around, expecting a cave and finding...<br><br>Well, it certainly wasn't a cave, he could see that. It wasn't even underground.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>09-02-2014, 18:04:46</strong>
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				It had been her fifteenth year as far as human years went when the markings of her people had begun to become too evident to hide anymore.&nbsp; What once looked as though mere birthmarks when her skin was flushed or she became emotional now was prevalent all of the time.&nbsp; It was why she'd had to leave her adopted parents. <br><br>It was why she had lived in the ruins of her people for so long, alone and not hearing the voice of another save the memories in her mind. <br><br>But now, she'd heard a voice.&nbsp; A voice that belonged with the human who she had saw.&nbsp; The voice sounded pained.&nbsp; Her heart gave a flutter.&nbsp; Was the human hurt?&nbsp; The markings of her people on her dark skin began to glow an eerie white color as her heart began to hurt for the human, not being able to bare seeing any living thing in pain.<br><br>Her decision was swift, although it might possibly leave her in a dangerous situation, she had to risk the chance. She moved quietly but swiftly through the rubble, her lithe form much stronger than she may appear.&nbsp; She was nimble in her movements and quickly had made her way only to stop behind one of the crumbling pillars that had one housed a magnificent marble roof to hid.&nbsp; The structures architects had done a brilliant design with the monolithic sized temple.&nbsp; <br><br>Marina peered from around the huge column, noting that the human was standing but looked to be in much pain.&nbsp; His appearance was not like that of the witch hunters that she had remembered, nor was his clothing the same.&nbsp; Perhaps he was not one of them she had reasoned to herself as she timidly spoke to him from her safe spot behind the column.&nbsp; He was injured, if he were a witch hunter, she could simply run away.<br><br>A light voice almost foreign sounding came from behind the pillar.&nbsp; It would sound braver than she really felt but she would not fail her people. She would not be seen as a coward in the eyes of her ancestors who now watched from the golden thrones of Mahala.&nbsp; <br><br>"Thou, stoppest, right there." She shouted out bravely although she held no weapon.&nbsp; She'd not thought to bring a weapon on her forage of the forest for food this day as humans had never been seen up here before.&nbsp; "If thou be a witch hunter say yay, and if not then say nay but be quick about it."<br><br>Marina may have not had a weapon, but she had her cunning and she still remembered..everything.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>18-02-2014, 21:31:24</strong>
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				He growled softly, leaning his back against the wall of dirt that he had fallen from, leaning on his left leg, pulling his right up to his chest and feeling the gentle swelling on his ankle. It wasn't all that bad. It wouldn't even need ice to lower the swelling. Just a couple pulled muscles from the twist, nothing injured in the joint. He would be able to walk in a couple hours.<br><br>Still hurt like a motherfucker though. He could handle pain, he thought, gritting his teeth and cursing silently, sliding himself slowly to the ground. Yes.... why didn't he just... stay right here for now, he thought as he ruefully rubbed his ankle and looked around himself. It was odd. From the angle that he had been at, it looked like this area had been just regular forest, but something drove him away from this place. Like he would instinctively walk around it without even thinking of what he was doing. He pulled a couple strips of cloth from his backpack, which had opened a bit in the fall, and he wrapped his ankle as tight as he could stand it and leaned back.<br><br>Lunch time? Yeah, he nodded, that sounded...<br><br>He visibly jumped at the sound of another voice. He had purposefully traveled in a straight line deeper and deeper into the forest to make sure that he didn't run into any other hikers. His hands, he suddenly realized, were shaking, clammy with cold sweat. His breathing was picking up and his heart has hammering so fast and so hard he could feel and hear it inside him, like a hare being chased by a dog, bounding away. He jumped for his backpack, spilling it's contents in his desperation. He drew his gun, a Colt .45 1911, dropping it once and picking it up. His hands were so slippery.<br><br>Finally able to grip his weapon with both hands, still shivering like he had the flu, he cocked the weapon and shakily thumbed off the safety," I.... I... D.. Don't want any trouble, you hear?" His voice lacked the confidence that it had once held, it was almost a plea. He was clenching his teeth to keep them from shattering. Why was he cold? "Just... keep on walking and.... and... we won't have any trouble... I don't wanna hurt you, but I will if I have..." He blinked. If he had to? He hadn't even seen the person yet.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>24-02-2014, 00:50:58</strong>
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				Marina remained partially hidden behind the column until she heard a voice. What was this? What manner of speech was this witch hunter speaking.&nbsp; The words were of the English language, that much she knew but yet they did not sound like that of anyone she'd ever spoken to before.&nbsp; She actually was surprised that she remembered any language anymore, it had been a very long time since she'd spoken to a human.&nbsp; Almost all of her conversations were with the water, wind, or a passing animal from time to time except for those times she spoke to herself, just to hear the sound of a voice again.<br><br>But there it was, indeed a human, if not strange, but at least human, voice.&nbsp; She peeked around the column, watching as a rather peculiarly dressed male dropped an object similar to the weapons that made such noise which she remembered from a very long time ago, the same weapons that had been fired when her step parents house had been raided and her parents taken custody.<br><em><br>&nbsp;"I don't wanna hurt you, but I will if I have..."</em><br><br><br>The girl with the strange markings all over her body would watch the man pick up the weapon, his hands shaking as badly as his voice.&nbsp; She chewed on her bottom lip, ducking behind the broken pc of column as she thought perhaps he might see her as he began to look around.&nbsp; Again, she peeked out around the collapsing marble and noted that the man hardly looked dangerous at all.&nbsp; In fact, he looked as though he were possibly shaking as badly as she was. That's when she noticed it.&nbsp; His ankle was bound, although barely bound well at all, it was bound.<br><br>Marina sighed, quickly praying to the gods for her protection as she drew a breath.&nbsp; A rather slim, very scantily clad female would step from behind the pillar.&nbsp; Her skin would look dark in comparison to the humans, and patterns of white that were glowing rather brightly at the moment would cover her body.&nbsp; Intricate patterns that almost looked as though they had been designed just for her as the bands of white would circle outside of her breasts and join beneath to travel side by side until reaching her abdomen where the bands again would branch out to circle her abdomen and then once again join into one band that would lead directly to her barely covered nether regions.&nbsp; She had little in the line of clothing to cover her, and now what was there was thread bare and only remnants of the beautiful clothing it had once been.&nbsp; Why she'd not removed them completely she didn't know as her people had never worn clothing and Marina had never known what it was until the day her adopted parents had found her.&nbsp; A look of sadness passed over her face but finally she would step fully out from behind the pillar, her bronzed body glowing with the markings of her people.<br><br>"I think that ye would not hurt me, stranger."&nbsp; She stepped forward then, timidly as long silver blonde colored locks fell down her front and back, covering her breasts and reaching to her lower back.<br><br>She took another step closer.&nbsp; "Ye are hurt, please let alloweth me to provide assistance."&nbsp; She stopped then and regarded him curiously, noting not only how different he looked but also how different his clothing was from that of the men who had murdered her step parents.&nbsp; She cocked her&nbsp; head slightly as she gazed upon him, her curiosity getting the better of her as she squinted her eyes against the sunlight filtering through the trees overhead. <br><br>"But ye..ye speak strangely, stranger and thine clothing.."&nbsp; Marina came even closer then, the man having made no threatening motions to her just yet and her people were not a fearful type but instead many were warriors in their own right.&nbsp; She shook her head from side to side and then her full lips would break out into a rather large smile as she clapped her hands excitedly. <br><br>"Ye be not from Salem!"&nbsp; She closed the distance between them, offering him her shoulder to use as support, the fact that she had only scraps of the undergarments she had been wearing when she was swimming that day oh so long ago remaining as her clothing not even entering her mind as she smiled up brightly at him.&nbsp; "Ye be not a witch hunter! Be it that I am correct?"&nbsp; Her voice was light and airy, but still, tinged with a mixture of fear that she was wrong, and hope that she was right.<br><br><br><br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>03-03-2014, 20:34:28</strong>
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				It was the drive back home with his parents all over again. He felt that chill in the center of his body. He knew he should be stronger than this, knew that this wasn't normal and in a way, it was like he was an outsider looking in, wondering at the changes that had happened to this former jockey, quarterback with promises of awesome colleges and openings in the professional leagues. He had served his time in the armed forces because he knew that it was the right thing to do. He had been blessed in this country. His parents were good parents and well off, and he had grown up to a decent family with decent values. And he felt that helping his country in the armed forces before moving along with his promising life was the way to go.<br><br>But now that he realized how much they had taken, looking into himself, he was trying to figure out what he had left. Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. They had sucked him dry and left him good for nothing, not even going for another tour. He was damaged goods, and nobody wanted that, not for family, not for friends, not for employees. <br><br>He really couldn't blame the government for what had happened, he knew. But it was easier to blame them for putting him in that situation than blaming the faceless people that had actually turned him into damaged goods. See? He knew a little something about human psychology!<br><br>He blinked, bringing himself back to the present, where a young woman, had stepped out of the cover that she had been hiding behind. She was a strange specimen, the tattoos on her skin a pale white glow. Her form was perfect, her skin neatly bronzed and in another life, Mike Carson would even now be thinking up the pick-up lines that were the most likely to succeed. Maybe something about Puritans, or Thanksgiving, due to the way that she talked.<br><br>But not now. Now, Mike was breaking into a cold sweat, his heart hammering so fast that he could feel his head getting lighter and lighter, filling his center with a sense of vertigo and nausea, his fingers so slippery over the trigger he wasn't sure if he was even going to be able to pull it. He was going to pass out in about five seconds, he realized. No, he shook his head, please don't come any closer, please don't. His jaw was locked and his entire body tense, working on pushing himself as far away from her as he could. React like a normal person would, he remembered his father's dark glare telling him. What's wrong with you, his mother's would ask. What a freak said his sister's.<br><br>White lights were shooting in front of his vision. He was hyperventilating, and his arms flopped uselessly to his side, a shaking taking over his body," Don't hurt me..." He said in a slurred, drugged voice," I don't know anything I swear."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>09-03-2014, 18:27:54</strong>
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				Marina stopped moving, cocking her head slightly and observing the human.&nbsp; It was something more that she sensed was different about him than just his appearance or his pattern of speech.&nbsp; It was in the way his body moved.&nbsp; It was in the way his voice held something she couldn't quite put her finger on.&nbsp; <br><br>The dark skinned female allowed her hands to rest at her sides and she allowed her gaze to drift to his face and remain fixed there.&nbsp; And then, there was that stabbing in her heart once more as a sort of recognition washed over her.<br><br>The strange man was in pain.&nbsp; Not mere physical pain, but something much deeper.&nbsp; Something painful to his soul.&nbsp; It was the same pain that she had felt when her people disappeared.&nbsp; It was the same pain that she had felt when her adopted parents were murdered. She wanted to reach out, to touch him and pull him into a comforting embrace but she did not.&nbsp; <br><br>He even appeared to be afraid of her.&nbsp; She had made no effort to harm him.&nbsp; She'd made no threatening movements towards him.&nbsp; <br><br>"I promise thee this stranger."&nbsp; Finally she spoke, her voice soft and genuine.&nbsp; She said the words as she slowly moved, lowering herself into almost what would appear to be a meditation position but instead with her hands being folded in her lap so that he mught see her words held truth.<br><br>"I do not wish to hurt thee.&nbsp; It was only my intent to help." She glanced then at his injured ankle.&nbsp; She would remain seated, allowing him to see that he could walk away from her with no threat if he so desired.&nbsp; A cool breeze passed across her near naked body and a shiver passed through her as her body reacted naturally to the sensation of the much cooler air meeting with her golden skin.&nbsp; The white design that had been much brighter across her body minutes before had begun to glow softly,the intensity of the light fading as she sat.<br><br>A thought occurred to her then.&nbsp; If the stranger was going to choose to leave, she would at least like to know one thing since in her seclusion from the world she'd lost all track of time.<br><br>Her eyes sought out his although his gaze appeared distant to her and her voice would ask very softly.&nbsp; "Could thine tell me please stranger, what year of our Lord is this?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>15-03-2014, 21:39:09</strong>
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				Heart hammering, the white spots in his vision turned black as he fell back against the wall that was behind him. He could feel the roots of the trees above that area digging into his back, but he didn't move. He was somewhere else, nearly unconscious. He knew that it was a dream. It had to be. Why would he ever be afraid of his parents, why would he hurt a long time friend that had once been his girlfriend? No, he thought. He was still here, his hands extended and tied to a wooden pole with what felt like a board of spikes pressing against his back, keeping him bent over himself as he sat, unable to lift his head and see anything other than his bare and filthy feet.<br><br>As well as the boots of his captors, when they came close enough. He had been this way, being fed rice putty through a dirty straw. He was naked and the bottom of the chair that he was seat on had a hole in it where he could pass his food. But he was never moved. Kept in that horrid, back breaking position for what felt like years, each day, he assumed anyway, someone would come and ask him the same question over and over again, applying small currents of electricity that, while mere nuisance at first, would slowly build until his body was shaking painfully against his restraints...<br><br>"God, please, I don't know anything..." He whispered, his mouth dry as paper from the lack of water," I swear to God..." He kept repeating those words as the sounds of boots striking the dirt floor coming closer, and he tried to say it louder, hoping that they would believe him, but they never did.<br><br>But this time, the voice was different. It wasn't that cold voice, speaking in perfect English with a mix of Oxford and Pashto accents, but something old, something British. A woman's voice, and she wasn't asking what he had come to term in his mind as the 'Question'. What was she saying. He had to concentrate, it felt like the voice was coming through a tube, echoing and hard to understand. He tilted his head, suddenly surprised that the restraints didn't hold him back...<br><br>He opened his eyes with a gasp. He was back in the forest, and the woman was slightly closer but, for the moment it didn't seem to spark any reaction in him. He could feel it somewhere in the back of his mind, some masochistic side that enjoyed torturing himself with images of his past, but it seemed to be sated for the moment, but it would be back. He knew it would be back. He had passed out, it seemed, but only for a couple of seconds. He shook his head, trying to physically dislodge the cobweb in his head before he looked up. She was a stunning woman, not beautiful in a traditional sense... there was just something so wild about her, indomitable.<br><br>"Hey..." He tried to push himself to his feet, but failed miserably and settled back on the leaf covered ground, his body somehow sapped of strength," I'm sorry about all that, I've just had a rough couple of..." Years, months?" Time," He concluded lamely.<br><br>His eyes began to focus better as she came closer, his eyes narrowing," Why are you... shining?" He asked, his mind scrabbling for what the side-effects of the anti-psychotics that he was taking were.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>31-03-2014, 02:49:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Marina watched him attempt to rise to his feet but again pain would overtake him and she instantly moved into action.&nbsp; Her feet made light work of scrambling over to him and stopping right before reaching him.&nbsp; "Thou art safe here."&nbsp; She took another step and then she knelt down next to his ankle.<br><br>She did not immediately reach out to touch him, but first turned and offered "And thou art injured."&nbsp; Only then did she reach with a great measure of caution towards his ankle as she offered him a smile.&nbsp; "My name is Marina."&nbsp; Her hand touched his ankle lightly then.&nbsp; "I do not think that it is broken, but all the same it is injured."<br><br>She stood, nodding at him "I will return in just a moment."&nbsp; <br><br>Bare feet swiftly carried her to the small vein of water that now ran through the partially collapsed building that had once been a grand site having been built by the few Atlantians who had escaped.&nbsp; Taking one of the larger leafs from the nearby foliage she used it as a makeshift bowl where she prepared the leaves from another bush and mixed them with some of the wet earth near the waters edge.<br><br>She returned to him then.&nbsp; "I need to remove thou's shoes and socks."<br><br>Marina didn't wait for his permission, she simply began to remove the shoe and sock of his injured ankle.&nbsp; As she worked she would glance at him.<br><br>"And to answer thees question, the shining is not really shining."&nbsp; She wrapped the ankle inside of the leave, holding it with her hand until the mixture was pasty enough to keep the leaf and natural concoction wrapped securely around his ankle.&nbsp; Answering his question would not be easy.&nbsp; She took a moment to deliberate before deciding that since she did not yet know what year it was, or the laws of man now it would be best to speak the truth.<br><br>She wiped her hands on the small strip of cloth that covered her more private areas.&nbsp; <br><br>"It is the mark of my people...."&nbsp; As she said the words, she traced the tattoo like markings that were now beginning to not glow as brightly but instead faded to what appeared to be a white ink all over her body in intricate patterns. "The Atlantians." <br><br>One more time she would lean down next to him, this time directly beside him.&nbsp; It was then that she pulled her long white locks off to one side to reveal bare shoulders and it would also be then that he'd likely realize she was lacking clothing from the waist up.<br><br>"Slip thou's arm around my neck and put thine weight on my shoulder.&nbsp; I need to move thine self to a drier spot until you are healed."<br><br>She did not force him, but merely waited for him to accept or refuse her help once more.&nbsp; Perhaps once his pain had subsided some he would be able to answer the questions she had of him.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"Please"</em> she said in a non threatening hushed tone&nbsp; "I only wish to help, and we must go before the night falls."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>25-04-2014, 03:56:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Odd," He whispered, more to himself than to her," Looks like shining from where I'm standing," He chuckled softly. The meds were doing this. One their less-than-terrible side effects, he thought with a nod. Or maybe it was one of those bio-luminescent tattoos that someone had told him that they were working on. Who was it that had said... his fifteen-year-old niece, just growing into a woman's body and annoyed that her parents wouldn't let her get a tattoo. At the night of their family reunion, she had approached him while he was seated on the front steps of their house and, when he had said something about getting a secret tattoo as a teenager, a dumb thing after he had managed to score some beer from his older brother, a rat wearing a Navy cap, bending over and mooning, with an evil grin on his face as he turned around, thankfully placed down low where very few people would be able to see it, she had unloaded all of her teenager troubles on him.<br><br>Most of which had shot right over his head at the time, but he had nodded and grunted at appropriate times to show her that he was paying attention. He had apparently helped, even if he was still unsure as to what exactly her troubles had been, being so involved in his own.<br><br>He jumped a bit when she had suddenly reached over and pulled his shoe and sock off, watching, part alarmed, part intrigued and part not really there as she wrapped his injured ankle up in a poultice-covered... leaf? He nodded his thanks as soon as she was don.e He could feel the difference immediately, feeling the throbbing heat in the area decrease dramatically.<br><br>His eyebrows shot up, however, when she mentioned that she was... what, atlantian?" Your... People?" He asked, feeling himself relax. Well, at least he wasn't the only one that could see those shiny markings, and he wasn't the craziest person in these woods.<br><br>He took a moment to wonder if he should be impressed or alarmed by this.<br><br>Shaking his head, he chuckled and pulled himself to his feet, doing as she bid and wrapping an arm around her neck. While his ankle did feel better, it was still sprained and he would need the help of a crutch, her for the moment, until he could give it some rest and let it heal," Don't worry," He grunted as he took a step, alternating between wanting to not overload her with his lean, muscular weight and wincing and leaning hard on her when his injured leg touched the ground," I am only crazy in spurts. I should be alright for the next few hours."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>05-05-2014, 00:41:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yes, my people" she said softly, almost reverently.<br><br>Then she glanced over at him, smiling.&nbsp; His weight was no burden to her as her people possessed great strength and were much stronger than humans.&nbsp; She moved effortlessly, feet carefully stepping over roots and vines as she led him upward and into the ancient ruins.&nbsp; <br><br>"I do not think thou to be crazy, perhaps a bit lost, but not crazy..."&nbsp; <br><br>Her voice wondered off.&nbsp; He was different, she had to admit that.&nbsp; His clothing was different than she remembered and his speech was not that of a puritan.<br><br>"Thou art different though.&nbsp; Thine clothing is odd, and thine speech is strange and different from mine own and the voices of those I remember."<br><br>She would lead him through several run down rooms, ceilings having long since fallen in and the rooms overtaken by the vines of the forest.&nbsp; But she would press on, finally coming to a massive room which she would explain in some small detail to him.<br><br>"This room was where our leaders once gathered."&nbsp; She would shake her head slowly.&nbsp; "But they hath all passed from this place." <br><br>The markings on her skin glowed softly as she recalled to mind her people, her life as it was before she had went to live with the humans.<br><br>"I art the last remaining one of my kind."&nbsp; <br><br>She fell silent then as she helped him to walk, her words a painful reminder that she was alone in this place.<br><br>Finally they would reach another room, one that was quite remarkably still standing with roof intact.&nbsp; Marina had used bits and pieces of old broken furniture that she found throughout the dwelling and had fashioned it into usable pieces of furniture the best that she could with the limited resources that she had.&nbsp; In one corner was a large area for sleeping, the bed made of the soft elephant tree leaves that grew abundantly in the surrounding forest.<br><br>She helped him into a seat, once again quickly checking the ankle and as she did, she stopped to look up at him, her mind full of questions.&nbsp; He'd still not answered her question as to what year it was, but perhaps he might later when he felt stronger.&nbsp; She was also curious about his speech and she stopped what she was doing satisfied that for now his ankle needed no further attending.&nbsp; The walk had not done more damage.&nbsp; &nbsp;Cocking her head slightly as she stood then directly in front of him in his seated position on the chair.&nbsp; <br><br>"Thou hath spoken words I do not understand such as you and your." <br><br>&nbsp;She struggled slightly to say the odd words, both words not feeling natural for her to speak.<br><br>"Are these strange words part of thine language?&nbsp; Can thee tell me what they mean please?"<br><br>She drug an old barrel over and used it to sit on as she waited for his response and took a seat, sitting cross legged atop of it, long hair spilling down to hide her naked breasts but the small strip of cloth that had barely covered her bottom. It also now did little to provide proper coverage for the area that once upon a time would have been covered by an undergarment, Marina seeming to not have even noticed that she was not properly covered, rather seemingly that it was natural for her to expose herself so openly without hesitation. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>17-05-2014, 02:56:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh no," He shook his head with a laugh, still half hopping on his good leg and half leaning on her," I am crazy. I'm not lost. They taught me how to make my way in the woods while I was in the army. I mean, compared to the forests you could find in Afghanistan, this place is surprisingly tame," His mood had increased substantially, alarmingly so. It felt like when that dark, evil, masochistic side of him was asleep, lightly albeit, he felt an irresistible need to enjoy life to the full, to the point where some people thought he was exaggerating. The doc had explained it as a mood swing. When Mike got alarmed, the doctor explained it further. Everyone had mood swings, but they were inhibited. They were used to controlling themselves, so they mood swings were slim and easy to predict. Some people had it worse, be it because of mental instabilities, drugs or alcohol abuse, which lifted the inhibitions, which allowed them to have more fun when they were having it, feel everything so much more intensely, be it good or bad.<br><br>Mike guessed that he was one of these people.<br><br>"You know," He continued rambling," Here we have a couple bears, maybe a cougar or two. They had those there too, you know, plus AK-47 toting Talibans with issues..." He grinned at her, realizing for the first time that she probably had no idea what he was talking about. Not unlike the way that he had no idea where the were going. He looked around, and contained a gasp. The place was beautiful, hauntingly so. It looked old. Heck, it felt old. The decrepit statues looked at him like he was some sort of invader, their stone eyes looking down on him, making him feel inferior.<br><br>He took a deep breath, forcing himself back into the conversation with the young woman that was helping him," Your... kind?" He queried. Was she the last of some native american tribe that had died out before anybody could record anything? He tilted his head, his intelligent mind suddenly interested. He was a smart man, despite all his issues, and when he came across a mystery or something that hooked his intellect, he held to it like a dog with a bone.<br><br>Sort of why he had said issues, he thought bitterly.<br><br>"What... kind are you, exactly?" He asked, deciding that she was probably kidding about the You and Your thing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>03-06-2014, 01:32:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marina smiled when he stated he was not lost.&nbsp; She offered only "Perhaps thou doth know where thou art, but that does not mean that thou can not be lost as well."&nbsp; Most likely it would sound like a riddle to him, but there was meaning held in the words if one looked deep enough.<br><br>Then she cocked her head slightly as she realized he'd not given her a name, and once again, he'd not answered her question either.&nbsp; Once they had a moment to gather themselves and make themselves a bit more comfortable she would answer his question and perhaps now that he was talking to her, he might answer the questions that were burning through her mind.<br><br><em>"You know" </em> She mulled over his strange words.&nbsp; &nbsp;He'd used the word you when he was speaking of bears and cougars.&nbsp; Atlantian's were usually rather quick to pick up on new things and she'd form the word in his mouth as he spoke.<br><em><br>"Your kind"</em><br><br>She smiled softly as she toyed with long locks, raking her fingers through long silvery white tresses as though she were using them like one would a comb. <br><br>"Yes, my kind." Her reply was not very loud as she'd long since become accustomed to the general silence of the woods.&nbsp; <br><br><em>You</em>, she thought to herself. <em> Your</em>....<br><br>They were such odd words but if she had deduced correctly, these strange words were similar not in sound, but in meaning to thou and thine.&nbsp; Then again that word came as she heard his voice, this time he sounded like he was becoming a bit interested, if not even more relaxed than he had been.<br><br><em>"What kind are you, exactly?"</em><br><br>It was obvious to her that his question was in response to her earlier comment. <br><br>She would state the same thing again that she'd stated earlier and she'd reiterate what she'd stated earlier but those odd colored eyes of hers would seem distant as she spoke.<br><br>"My kind, yes, my people."&nbsp; Her gaze would be drawn back to his face.&nbsp; He was a handsome human, although she would still fear him as he'd not replied to her inquiry about being a witch hunter.&nbsp; By now she'd drawn her own conclusion that he was indeed no witch hunter, or at least not that she could recall of any such as him in her past.<br><br>She hopped down off of the barrel then, tossing her long locks over her shoulders as she approached him to extend her hand.<br><br>"I am Marina Oceas of Atlantis.&nbsp; The Atlantians<em> were my people</em>."&nbsp; She waited to see if he would shrink away from her again as she continued.&nbsp; <br><br>"What is..."&nbsp; she struggled with the correct word to use, quickly trying to remember how he'd used the words that were so unfamiliar to her.&nbsp; Then her face lit up with some small measure of certainty as she continued with a rather bright smile, Marina being rather pleased with herself for figuring it out on her own, or at least having tried.<br><br>"What is y..your?" she said the word almost as though she were asking him if the word she'd chosen was correct. <br><br>"What is your name?"&nbsp; She became a bit braver then.&nbsp; "You..your clothing is so different than I remember." <br><br>His attire was nothing like that of the Puritans.&nbsp; It was only then that she even vaguely considered the fact that she had barely any clothing on.&nbsp; She'd not worn clothes for so long and then she almost left out a small giggle as she'd be able to hear her adopted mother chastising her if so much as her ankle showed beneath her dresses.<br><br>"I've been here for a very long time." She offered quietly hoping that she could get him to tell her what year it was now if she led the conversation in that direction.<br><br>"I'm not really sure how long I've been here.&nbsp; The last year I remember was 1693. I followed the phases of the moon to tell days, months, years by but after a while, days blended into seasons, seasons to years."<br><br>She shrugged slightly then, still standing near him but if one were to look closely enough, they might think that she was actually pleading for him to tell her what year it was so she might know how long she'd been alone in these woods.<br><br>"Please, wouldest thou...you...can you tell me, what year of our Lord this is."&nbsp; <br><br>Her eyes would reflect her desire to know the answer to that one question and she'd begin to bite down on her lower lip as she waited for the answer she wasn't certain she really wanted to hear.<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>12-06-2014, 02:42:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Riddles. Great. Not only did he need shrinks telling him all sorts of shit concerning how his mind worked, but now he had an amateur philosopher spewing gibberish at him in a weirdly old dialect of English. His face changed to a bored blank," Maybe I know where I am, literally and metaphorically speaking," His tone was a little hotter than he intended," But I just happen to not want to be in said place," He took a deep breath. He didn't want to lose it again, not with her around to see it... again. While there seemed to be something odd about the semi-nude character across from him, he had a feeling that his own issues made him the weirder one around here by an immense margin. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing, though.<br><br>He watched as her face showed signs of quick thinking as he spoke. She was a quick learner, he could tell from the rapid evolution of her speaking from ancient, Pre-Civil War English to something a bit closer to modern times. His eyes shot up when she asked him his name. Something came roaring out of a short hibernation, threatening to take control of him once more but he fought it down with visible effort. During that pause, she mentioned his clothes. That calmed him down, even if it did make his left eyebrow shoot up," My clothes. Speak for yourself. You barely have any. Or is that how your people dressed too?"<br><br>Okay. He was being unnecessarily hostile, and he knew it. His face relaxed and he looked a bit more trite," I mean... sorry, I didn't mean to..." He gulped and shook his head, thoughts coming hard and fast as to how to make it right. Comment on how nice her figure was? Possibly. It was a nice figure, neatly toned, not too thin, not too large in the places that some men liked excessive... largeness? Was that even a word? Not the point. He mentally shook his head to get it back on track. No, mentioning her nice body would probably not be appropriate at this point. Ummmm he had an extra set of clothes in his backpack?<br><br>Yes.<br><br>He dove for his backpack, relieved to finally have something resembling a solution to their dilemma, and he pulled out a shirt, his size, but would probably be too big for her. Better that way, he supposed, covering more of her lower half. He had a feeling he would need his pants. He handed her his shirt," Look... I'm sorry about that. Here..." Have my shirt? Seriously?<br><br>"I'm Mike," He corrected, quickly changing the subject," Mike Carson. The... year of our lord," Come on, did he remember nothing from high school?" It's the Year of our Lord 2014... as you might guess, it's been a while since sixteen ninety-three."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Whispered Desire</strong> on <strong>14-06-2014, 23:45:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marina stammered slightly, taken aback by his sudden anger.<br><br>"I didn't mean..."<br><br>Her apology went unfinished as he seemed to wish to berate her even more with his words.<br><br>"Speak for yourself. You barely have any. Or is that how your people dressed too?"<br><br>Why must he be so angry at her, she was certain she'd not done anything to be deserving of such anger and her tone held a slight edge to it as she responded to him.<br><br>"I have worn the attire of the humans.&nbsp; My adopted mother"&nbsp; Her voice would falter, markings on her skin taking on a very soft glow as she spoke about her human mother.&nbsp; "My mother made clothing for me, but my people did not wear the clothing of humans."<br><br>And then just as quickly his demeanor would again change as he offered both an apology and a shirt of a much different style than the white shirt with long sleeves she was accustomed to seeing human men in.&nbsp; Her hand briefly touch the warm fingers that held the shirt as she retrieved it from him.&nbsp; <br><br>As he introduced himself the Atlantian female would pull all of her hair to one side before very awkwardly pulling the shirt over her head and struggling to get her arms in.&nbsp; She barely remembered wearing clothing, let alone remembering how to put it on. Once both arms were in she would pull the shirt down from where the longer part had stopped just short of covering ample breasts.&nbsp; With a tug she shimmied into the shirt and watched as it loosely fell downward, stopping short of covered her entire bottom if she so much as moved the wrong way.&nbsp; She'd not even bother to try to tug it down to cover herself, she simply holding the philosophy of her people and not that of the humans.<br><br>She smiled wide when he told her his name, she well pleased that he had chosen to share it with her. <br><br>"Greetings Mike Carson." <br><br>The smile had not yet faded from her face but when he told her the year, not only did her smile fade, but she became lightheaded, half falling and half stepping back against a tree that would support her.&nbsp; Slowly she sank to the ground, her mind attempting to process math in her head. She had always been a rather intelligent girl but the lack of need for math and other such educational tools in the wilderness left her struggling to find the answer she sought.&nbsp; <br><br>Her eyes closed,&nbsp; but her fingers moved slightly as she determined an answer to the equation.&nbsp; Over three hundred...<br><br>Her eyes shot open, her gaze turning towards the man she'd stumbled upon. Or, had he stumbled upon her?<br><br>"2014?" She said the word, questioning it as though it were impossible and she'd reinforce that thought as she spoke.<br><br>"How can that be?&nbsp; It is not possible..."<br><br>So many thoughts raced through her mind leaving her with so many questions that couldn't be asked or answered quickly enough.<br><br>"Are there still witch hunters in the villages below?"&nbsp; Her voice was small, frightened even of his response, but even more upsetting to her was the next question she would ask.<br><br>"My people...where are...I mean, can you tell me how to find them?"&nbsp; Surely if she had lived so long, there must be others, that was, if the witch hunters had not burned them all.&nbsp; She would shiver as she remembered the smell of burning flesh...her step parents burning flesh.<br><br>Marina quickly looked away, blinking back tears but when she would again look in his direction it was evident that she had shed at least one tear, the colors on her skin glowing softly in brighter and darker shades of what appeared to be light moving over the markings on her skin.<br><br>"Please" she whispered rather softly.&nbsp; "Please..help me...&nbsp; She stammered through the words, finally spilling them from her lips.<br><br>"Please, I beg of you, help me to find others, surely there are...my people, I mean."<br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Out Of The Darkness (Deamonbane and Whispered Desire)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>01-07-2014, 00:17:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He narrowed his eyes. As the rule dictated, the shirt looked better on her than it would ever look on him. Her ample breasts pressing at the thin fabric were eye-catchers for sure, and the way that the shirt itself dipped low enough to cover about what was considered decent, he found that it tantalized his imagination a tad more than her entirely naked and inviting him to a comfortable bed. He bit his lip a bit at the thought, finding himself a bit more distracted than he intended to be as she kept on speaking. This warm sensation, however, was something that his dark passenger didn't care for, bringing forth images unbidden of his time in capture.<br><br>He shuddered and swallowed, bringing his mind back to the conversation at hand. And just in time too. She didn't seem to be taking the fact that she had been in this forest, not hidden but safe from the outside world for the better part of 300 years, whether she was crazy or not. His eyes narrowed at her next question," Listen doll, there isn't even a village down there anymore, much less... witch hunters?" Great. He had had the rotten luck of stumbling on the one person in the world that was crazier than he was. They were near Salem, near being conditional. They weren't really near anywhere at this point.<br><br>He pushed himself to his feet and gingerly limped over to where she had crumpled to the floor, sitting down with a sigh beside her, wrapping a powerful arm around her shoulders. Fuck, even if you were crazy, this kind of shit was usually introduced to you in a more gentle and suave way than Carson was capable of," Look... Marina, right? The Atlantians aren't much more of a myth nowadays. Barely that. It's like a child's story that children don't like anymore. So if you keep talking like this, people are gonna think you're nuts...." He stopped in his line of thought as his hand stroked her swarthy skin. It wasn't that her skin was smooth, inviting, soft and warm, although he was pretty sure those elements would have him distracted anyways.<br><br>"Fuck," He whispered, looking at her tattoos, squinting a bit. They were changing colors, glowing and seeming to increase and decrease in brightness as they seemed to pulse with her emotions," Are they supposed to be doing that?"
			</dd>
		</dl>
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