Difference between revisions of "Old as Dirt: Disbelief/Chapter 2"

Revision as of 03:42, 22 January 2014

( Dark is falling, and falling, it feels like forever. Spinning in nothingness, until he falls into water, the cold splash hitting his fur with almost a shock. As he crawls his way out, he seems to pull himself slowly from the water's surface, a new image. His body made up of marks hovering in the air much like the Coyote that was mocking him. His hands, now paws, are little more than the ends of matchsticks, but still seem to move in a fluid form and allow for locomotion. He's in a wide and empty endless pit of nothingness, except for an ankh, in the distance, giant and growing up into the skyless space above. )

You page, "you appear yourself, alone with him, somewhere else. Space is hard to tell, in fact, it's getting harder to make any sense out of space now. He gives you a look that you catch the meaning of rather fast, thumping his black spot of a nose against you." to Eithne.

Darkwyrm turns around in circles on his four limbs, triyng to get a good look at himself. "The fuck?", he thinks to himself. "Great, now I'm poisoned and hallucinating." He paws at his face, trying to get at an invisible itch until he realizes the itch is more like a compulsion.. a compulsion to look up.. and walk towards the sign in the sky. In a page-pose to you, Eithne can think of a couple looks he could be giving Eithne. Elaboration?

You page, "he wants something out of you. You don't /have/ to give it, but the answer is clearly sex. He's not had anyone in his shape or realm in ages to take advantage of like this." to Eithne.

In a page-pose to you, Eithne thought so, on the meaning of the look. And she understands on the RP bit.)) After several moments of consideration, Eithne licks his snout and gives in. She can understand loneliness, after all.

The wind blows across his inky flesh, blowing pieces of water off of the image that is darkwyrm. It feels amazingly real right now, more than any hallicination could ever hope to be. He however is not confronted, rather he's given a clear path, and clear image that he heads toward. The shape pressing into the back of his mind, bringing out memories of the time below the earth, where he first gained the shape of the Jackal.

You page, "That occupies quite a period of time, the feelings are like the real thing, you can feel every aspect of it, and when he floods you, you feel glorious warmth. Images flooding into your mind of the dreamscapes he's painted, the dreams he's shown to people who have shaped the world. You see flashes of things that haven't happened yet, so much information it's nearly overwhelming and all happens right at the climax." to Eithne.

In a page-pose to you, Eithne tries to hold on to some of those images - she doesn't particularly care what, just... something poignant. Something hopeful. And, afterwards, she'd nuzzle at him, pay him some affection and closeness. The thoughts drift through his head.. the images of countless assassination targets in his past life, his familiarity with death, it's inner workings, the fine lines that divide the planes of life and afterlife. He remembers the innermurable times he's felt the warm lifeblood of a victim running down the dagger planted in their heart and over his hands. Then he remembers when he put all of the pieces together. He solved death's mystery.. mastered it's essence, felt it's power coursing through him, and he believed it to be all his doing..

The ankh is closer, making progress across the baren land. The memories of the lifeblood seeping from his victims intensifies, overwhelming and causing his head to spin once more. The image of the ankh showing a jackal shaped figure, anubis himself, stabbing Dark himself in the chest, his shape when he was once human, as he struggles. The knife finding his still beating heart, and spurts of blood bursting around the ceremonial dagger. The jackal man carves a circle in the man's chest who's still struggling, and then he reaches in and pulls out the heart and brings it up to his muzzle.

You page, "You cling to a shape, a pattern of something that you've never seen before, ever, but you instantly know what it does. The coyote shaped godling returns the affections, seemingly happy to find both respect, adoration, and willingneess from the new figure. He eventually speaks saying, "I can't keep you like this for long, or you will cease to be, the lovely creature you are. We must make the most of this time, and see if we can find that clueless twat of a friend of yours before he also fades into the ether. Follow me, and I will teach you many things before our time is done."" to Eithne.

Darkwyrm wheezes for air, almost as if he actually feels the pain. His thoughts are overwhelmed with the image of his human face, the scarred, near-emotionless mask draining of its color as his essence pours out of his chest cavity. He drop to his knees, mouthing silent words, stunned into disbelief. His ink coyote form colapses onto its side, weak and weary from the overwhelming feelings. However, he musters the strength to carry on, dragging himself to his feet and inching forward.

In a page-pose to you, Eithne glees. GLEES. (Both IC and OOC) Ears perked right up, tail wagging happily she nods and bounds around. "He's not a friend of mine, actually, but I know some at the pub are fond of him, and I'd rather not see a soul vanish into the void. So yes, let's go get him. I'm open to any lessons you wish to bestow upon me, Teacher."

He can't help but feel like death is catching up behind him. He does not look back, for if he does, he fears he will be overwhelmed. Dragging, and hefting himself forward despite the pain and agony at seeing his own heart torn out. He continues towards the ankh, the spring of life renewed. And then to his side he sees that coyote loping that mocked him before, a smaller one following just behind. It gives a look of encouragement but doesn't seem to be coming any closer.

Darkwyrm snaps at the other two coyotes, as their presence distracts him from his path. The emanant force guides him like a lighthouse in the hazy blackness. He isn't sure what it is, but he knows he needs to get to it.. to touch it.. to bask in its glow. The itch in his head grows stronger, and it battles with his feelings of dread, the void that follows close behind him.

Eithne ambles along beside Coyote, examining the scene before them as she glances between the Anhk and Dark, and the void behind him. She glances over to the larger 'yote, and then back again, questioningly, even as she sets herself on a (slow) path to follow the Jackal closely, wardingly.

The larger, marked coyote doesn't seem to respond to Dark's threat, rather he nudges Eithne in the direction of the void behind. Its an overwhelming sea of nothingness rushing upon them. In front of Dark the Jackal on the screen bites into the heart, eating it whole, gulping down his essence, and he feels a pain in his chest, the strength in his muscles fleeing.

Darkwyrm's hind legs give out, the muscles suddenly refusing to respond as the pain becomes unbearable. He keeps trying though, dragging his body forward with his forelegs. In his mind, he futilly reaches out in an attempt to stop the jackal from devouring his heart. His eyes go bloodshot and shift from steel-blue to crimson. He coughs, and a spatter of blood hits the ground in front of him.

The void is catching up quickly, a wisp of something reaching out and grasping around Dark's leg. It strikes right into the muscle, filling it with the chill of death itself.

Eithne glances between Coyote, Darkwyrm, and the encroaching Nothingness. "Yes, teacher? What do you wish me to do with it...? Stand fast as a beacon of Light and Creation, or help him flee it towards the Anhk and all it stands for?" But she follows his nudging, moving into the path between the Void and Dark, steps sure and full of purpose... though she really has no idea what her purpose /is/ in the movements, yet, even as she subconsciously tries to reach for the Fire Within.

( Dark's leg seems to shrivel, the marks composing his designish leg turning dull and gray, as if the color had been sucked out of it. He whines like a dog in pain and pants heavily, struggling to keep pulling himself forward. His perseverence wins out over his pain though, and he waveringly drags himself onward. )

The marked Coyote leaps toward the tendril, severing it in his jaws, letting Dark continue. He nudges eithne towards the wound, while he standa tall against the void, his hackles raising as the flooding void approaches. His message is clear, help.

Eithne nods to the larger coyote, and moves over to Dark. She pauses at the shriveled leg, and then leans down to lap at it gently... with a tongue of fire that paints more color into it, helping work it to what it was before the tendril grasped the jackal. Then she moves up his body and squirms under one of his arms, helping support him and drag him forwards, towards the Anhk. She doesn't look back, but sends a few silent prayers to her 'Teacher' all the same. "C'mon. We need to get you moving."

Darkwyrm feels a measure of invigoration reenter his body. The colors return to his leg and he's able to stand again. He stands tall and proud (at least as tall as a quadruped can) and with renewed determination starts striding forward again, aided by the other coyote. In his mind-image, his body collapses forward, faceplanting into the dry sands. Moments pass, his corpse still and silent. However, he moves again. Life comes back to him. He grasps the sand and wrings it between his fingers. His eyes glow with a pure golden light and he uneasily pulls himself back to his feet, his body refusing to give into death so easily.

The Ankh grows nearer to the two, and the image Dark sees of the Anubis figure offers a hand to support him. Behind there's a silent yelp as the void crashes over the image of the coyote, the one known as dirt blowing into the ether as it continues to encroach.

Eithne flinches as the yelp washes over them, but... plows on. There's nothing she can do to help, that she knows of, beyond making sure everything keeps moving forwards. So she keeps at Dark's side as they continue towards the Ankh, exuding a comforting warmth all the while.

Darkwyrm's image reaches out to grasp the jackal's hand. His own hand turn's black as fur grows over it, reaching down his arm and quickly envoloping his body. He gets up fully, now a complete jackal once more. The inks composing CoyoteDark's eyes change hues from blue to green to yellow and twinkle brightly as he nears the ankh. His tail shift back and forth subtlely and the curvy lines of his arms and legs pulse with newfound power.

As they bask in the glow of the ankh, Anubis himself reaches down and swipes up both Eithne, and the changing Darkwyrm into his palm, and then swallows them both. Darkwyrm gasps awake, downstairs in the training room below the pub, having fallen through the floor. Eithne, still in the shape of a two dimensional drawing, is also laying /above/ the floor, no longer stuck in the wall, although Dark doesn't notice her til she moves.

Eithne spins and twirls in the air above the floor, trying to catch a glimpse of the mind-boggling way her form works in 3D. She does spend a moment afterwards to examine Dark's form, and make sure he's alright and intact, sitting back on her haunches as she looks over. "Are you alright, then? Everythings where it should be, sense of power over death all intact and strong? He didn't replace anything with a cartoon or leave a message scrawled in uncomfortable places...?"

Darkwyrm lays on his back, still and silent, but then his eyes shoot open and he stares at the ceiling for several moments, not sure if he's awake or dreaming. Of course the swirling image of a coyote over him doesn't help much, but he grunts and slowly pushes himself off the ground, cringing as he feels the bruises from his fall. "That.. was some crazy shit."

"Dreamquests usually are, Jackal. Do you believe in those powers generally beyond mortal ken now?" Eithne sounds amused, as she begins pacing back and forth, squirming from side to side to maximize her reality-bending animation. "It isn't often something like Dirt, since he consented to the name, deigns to give a lesson like that. Though I do wonder why he used me to help you with it. I'm sure he has his reasons, though."

Darkwyrm lowers his head and pants a few times before rolling onto his knees and sitting up. "Mortality.. is relative.", he says. "It always has been. My fault was that I thought myself to be my own beneficiary in unlocking the secrets to pulling those of the mortail coil closer towards their afterlife." He shakes his head, scowling. "Foolish. Killing people for a living and respecting the dead don't bring you closer to enlightenment.. but pleasing a god.. that, despite the unlikelyhood of it, is an explanation for power."

Eithne grins widely, showing off a multitood of cave-cartoonish teeth. "Good! You're learning. Though I meant more minds born into mortality - it takes a bit more than merely transcending death with the aid of another to move outside that bracket. I'm a phoenix most of the time. I know. But you /believe/, now, that the supernatural and Divine exist. Which, I think, means lesson learned. Don't you feel good about yourself?" She sproings around the jackal with cartoon physics, giving some braying, barking laughter as she indulges in the form. "I think you can head upstairs again, now, though I'm not exactly sure until Teacher makes his appearance."

"No, I can't say that I feel good at all.", Dark grunts. "My head is pounding, my ass is bruised, and my leg throbs. Oh, there's that whole 'I'm not in charge of my own destiny' thing too. Or whatever. I think I liked it better when I believed we as hmmm 'humans' were the great beings of the mortal plane." He gets to his feet wearily and starts walking towards the steps.

Eithne gives that barking laugh again, and grins to Dark's back. "Why do you think they need worship?" It's her only response to things, before she 'curls up' to wait in the center of the training room, tail swinging around and ears perked. She has someone to wait for, after all, as far as she's aware.

Eithne waits for a long, long time, nothing but silence, no company. Eventually she sneaks out of the bar, returning to her home. She walks right through the door into her bedroom, to find a pile of dead fish all over the ground, and Dirt, laying on her bed with a grin.

Eithne rolls her eyes, taking a moment to glance around, before she pounces the grinning Dirt with a whistling cry! "So this is where those fish swam off to. Quite the mess you've left me to clean up, oh teacher. And here I thought you'd appreciate the 'bigger fish' metaphor I was going for." She tries to playfully tussle with her 'Teacher', grinning back at him.

He licks Eithne, awkward and dizzying considering the shapes between the two, and then says, "I appreciated a lot of things you did, which is why I gave you this chance to see what it is to make dream, rather than be a victim of it. I see you haven't changed back into your old skin like the other, does that mean you still want time for lessons?" grinning widely, almost comically so.

Eithne licks back, nodding and settling in beside the coyote. "I do. I have many thoughts and ideas and curiosities, any anything learned will help me solve them, in the end. And the dreams you've painted..." She shakes her head, unable to cut the awe from her tone. "I could learn so much from you."

The coyote leans in and whispers softly into Eithne's ear, so low and so inaudible, which is odd considering there's no one there. He says, "You can join me instead of dreaming each night if you'd like. I can show you how I walk the dreamscape." then he licks Eithne's ear, and lecherously says, "And all you have to do is submit to me when I want."

Eithne giggles, the ear twitching 'away' from the tongue, and 'leans' against the other coyote for a moment while she considers her response. "That would be something. Something amazing and breathtaking..." She nuzzles her head against his neck, eyeing him. "And I'm... actually inclined to agree. For reasons beyond the knowledge. I... I know what it's like to be alone, to walk a seperate path by yourself - and even if you interact with people, if they're not on a similar level it's hard to consider them breaking up the loneliness. Is it... like that for you?" She 'inclines' her head, watching Dirt's response.

He glares for a moment at the woman, making assumptions about him. It clashes with his ego. However, the words ring true, truer than he would like to admit, and his head comes down onto his paws. "I admit, that's why I enjoy making appearances. I'm tired of dreamwalking alone. And the dreams of late have grown hopeless and bleak. It's hard for me to find the energy to keep creating for a people than wants to die."

Eithne nods. Assumptions make an ass out of me and you, but she's a scientist and trained to observe. She 'snuggles' in beside him, and licks at his muzzle. "My answer, then, is yes. I will walk with you in my dreams, talk with you and larn from you, and consent to lay with you there. But you've got to promise me that it won't be mostly the last, hm?" The last sentence is teasing, for all that she means it. "I would scarce wish lasting loneliness on my enemies, let alone friends. And maybe some of my fire can kindle hope in your heart, hm?"

He nods, "I promise it will not come to this always, but my heart and loins are both lonely, and I would like to look upon you in your prefered shape, let me see you give yourself to me completely when you aren't at my mercy." and as he speaks, Eithne's already becoming three dimensional, and her form shifting back to her prefered shape.

Eithne slowly shifts into a waifish young woman, thin and pale. But, ultimately, human looking as she lays below the coyote. She strokes her red hair in a nervous gesture, matching nail polish from the transformation gleaming in the light, and then reaches up to feel at his 'fur' with her 3D, normal hands, to test the feeling. "I... don't actually assume it much. There are so many other forms in my stable that I toy with and experiment with. But, in privacy... This is what I really relax like. When I relax."

His eyes are full of fire, the heat radiating off of him, and touching him feels like touching a normal coyote, his fur soft and lush, even though eithe's hand is still tracing the extremities of the image. It's actually quite facinating how it works, but there's little time before the crude illustration makes it known what its after. He does, however admit, "You're beautiful in all your shapes, and your dreams, your vision of making things better fills me with both lust and joy. With you, maybe we can help humanity find its spark again." and then he presses his nose to Eithne's neck and snuffs and licks. Eventually he loses his ability to speak, the smells, and scents and instincts overriding.

Eithne gasps as he lets that lust be known, and whispers into his ear; "I am Phoenix. I am Fire. But more importantly... I am Hope. Of Life, of Rebirth. That something beautiful can come from the end. That from the ashes, a wonder can rise. Before and after her blessing... that was so." And she wraps her arms around him throughout the act, burying her face in his fur and taking in the heat and scent, the passion and the joy.