plaguexroamer
I have itsy-bitsy bad news. Due to my other commitments (both schoolwork AND fiction writing), I STILL have yet to construct a viable backstory for the Magician or the Lovers.STILL, a plot bunny make itself known, and I just HAD to get it done!Basically, it's a sort of 'reimagination' of The Hanged Man, except in the context of existing in an RPG state (think WoW or something). Not really a 'backstory', but what he experiences (and feels and thinks). Much, MUCH more darker (GRIMDARK!!).No punishment worse than death, they say. No reward greater than life, they say. Neither are granted, neither are received. Long have I pondered my existence's worth, or the true meaning of my fate. How all eventually disappear, except I. How all fade to dust, like the sands of time, except I. Despair roots itself deep in my mind, festering as my sanity slowly suffers, degrading into mere fragments. How none have endured a torment as great as mine, yet claim to have faced Death itself and consider it their greatest accomplishment. It begs the question: what foolishness did they undertake to even Death to come for their soul? Death is nothing, if you yourself do not give him reason to come. Why, then, do they say Death is conquered? Death is timeless. They only prolong their existence. Oh how I long for Thanathos to come and free me from this wretched husk, yet there is no reason for him to come. My time is just not due. Why, I have asked myself. Nothing more, nothing less. Death will not visit me naturally; someone must come to release me from this husk, 'fore I am permitted the eternal rest. Now, though, I simply wait, chained in torment and despair, withering in pain and darkness, for he who is worthy enough to destroy this chained soul's binds.I raise my head, wary of the sounds approaching; no need for hope for a weakling. Power binds me to fight any and all who try to pass. I have seen many, some alone, some with allies, all who have failed. I tilt my head towards a spot on the wall next to me, towards the skulls that adorn a specific patterned artifact, flickering ethereal lights within almost trying to escape through the eye holes. Fools, I shake my head, they pay the ultimate price of attempting to take what they cannot, or fight that which they cannot defeat. Their souls lie imprisoned within the skulls of their own corpses, a hideous punishment set in place by Power, as a mockery of how I myself was defeated. Nothing more, nothing less, is my despair; Power truly mocks me with these weaklings, trapped alongside me. I let myself search deep amongst my bindings, finding my center, before the world engulfs itself with white, the chill creeping into all around me, the souls imprisoned shivering as it seeps through the seams of their spirits. Despair's tendrils grope unhesitatingly, seeking for more to rip spirits apart from within. I raise my hand, the cross adorned with skulls raises itself in parallel, a speck of snow gliding across my hidden face as the first mortal sets foot into the room.I gaze unflinchingly across the room, letting the chill return to the deepest depths of my soul, between my deep bindings, paying no heed to the fallen warriors who now will share my punishment. Some moan desperately from their position on the ground, broken forms crushed by the otherworldly strength that binds us to the earth. Some lay shattered on the ground, pieces of their form slowly melting while the remnants of their face retain eternal horror. Others lay crushed, insignificant against the cross of decided fate, combined with the otherworld strength, to create their own grave....Heh...grave...gravious...grivity? I suppose someone will eventually find the true name of this otherworldly power.I expose none of my thoughts with hushed lips, raising the cross again, before pushing despair's grips into it. The room lights up, ethereal lights rising from the mortals' corpses, all of which are sucked into the cross. Unending screams reach my ears, but I tune them out as I have done so for many years before; I will persist now and even many years later, even if despair has reached its peak within me, as my sanity lies shattered. The cross is replaced within its nook in the wall, and I hang my head again, the chains to the wall encircling my neck restricting me from resting against anything. My arms go limp, hands lightly pressed against the floor, while all that remains of my torso pulling slightly backwards into the hole in the sealed gateway. I can, may, and only wait.And wait.And wait.I have already been Hanged. My fate is decided. But how long more
chamomileess
QUOTE (An @ Apr 10 2010, 10:32 PM) quotecWah Plague,You are a very talented writer. Love the story. I has been reading lot of novels lately, you should consider becoming a write and write a novel. I would totally read it.Do you read as well?On the side note, if anyone was wondering where I went, I has not been on forum lately due to being busy with school, work and developing WoG and the new game.QuoteEndQuoteEEndIt's ok An. We know you're a busy person /happy.gif" style="vertical-align:middle" emoid="^_^" border="0" alt="happy.gif" /> And besides, you lurk around long enough anyways!PLAGUE!!!!SHEERFRIKKENEPICNESSIN BBQSAUCE. (Or Honey mustard, if that's your thing
