Post by illustrex on Feb 11, 2008 12:23:11 GMT 8
. -{Illustrex}- .: What do you think of when you think of the darkness. Most think of shadows, dancing and shaking as they hide from the light. But that is just it... Shadows need a source of light for life. Like yin and yang, they strugle back and forth. As the light grows smaller, the shadows grow larger, and as the light grows larger, the shadows run to their hiding places. Yet what happens when there is no light? When there is nothing to give birth to the shadows? ...You are left with darkness....The Primal Darkness. Void of all the comforts of man... Heat, light, emotion... The Primal Darkness devours everything, leaving not but more darkness in its wake. Most beings will never witness the true side of Darkness, but some do. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- .: Some get lost within the darkness, left to wander endlessly in the labyrinth of their own mind. The Illusionary Harlequin is one such being. He had long since been lost within the darkness, and even now, the being found himself lost again. For times longer than he could remember, he had been falling. His milky porcleian masque, void of any features except a small crack reaching out from the right eye, stared endlessly upward into the sky from which he was falling. A circular wall surrouned the Jester on every side as he cascaded downward within the darkness. Blank, the wall was, above and below the Harlequin, yet as he fell, the wall around his body seemed to spring into life. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- .: As the Jester passed, the hanuting faces of his past victims appeared upon the wall. Contorted into tortured screams, the faces would reach out for the being, though they soon withdrew back into the wall and faded away, giving birth to another. With each face...came a taunting voice. The voices echoed agaist the wall, growing louder with each reverbiration and continuing to haunt the young Harlequin as he tumbled downward within the darkness. (e)
Enola Reverof: Without a warning, a voice exploded through the tunnel from both directions. The whispering of a thousand men, women, and children with the same message to bring surrounded by thier own cries of torment and pleading for freedom. A voice that was unmistakable to whomever heard the sound of it. A voice that uttered only two simple words with a mocking tone... "You fool..." Silence followed that voice as even the shadows on the walls of the tunnel disappeared and left the Harlequin falling only through a blank existance alone in all of his insanity. For what seemed an eternity as he fell without company or thought, time passed idly by first with dread, then with helplessness, <c1>
Enola Reverof: and finally with simply boredom. As if on queue at the point where this boy felt himself wishing for anything to happen simply so it would happen,. right below him the wall shattered apart as an arm emerged from the side of it. Chunks of rock and dust scattered below him in the tunnel as the arm came fully through the side of the wall just in time to grab the Harlequin by his throat. He could feel his body snap taught as it almost broke his neck with the sudden stop he came to, and yet he felt fine after the tension was gone and he was simply dangling there. He waited for hours as the arm simply held him in place while nothing else seemed to happen.<e2>
. -{Illustrex}- .: As the voice eched throughout the others, everything grew quiet. He let the words echo idly with his own. "You fool..." He had given up on himself a long time ago and gave into the voices. They were right. He was worthless. He was weak... He was a fool. Once the hand broke through the wall below him broke from the outside, sending shards of rock and dust into his perfect darkness. From his current positon, the arm that thrust into his domain had an easy time reaching his throat and holding his head in place, thought the rest of his body caught up, passed, and then continued to fall untill it was pulled taught with a snap. A sickening crack echoed outward, but there was no pain. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- .: Keeping his body limp, the young Harlequin refused to struggle or even show a hint of resistence to this arm. The debrit continued to fall downward through the black void, yet the Jester was stopped. He let the words replay in his mind once again. "You fool..." He couldn't place it, but the voice was familiar. He could remember a foggy memory... Laying upon the floor with two others bent over him. He blinked a few times, trying to get his senses to come back to him. Dull buzzing in his ears slowly turned into distant voices. As the voices drew closer he could almost make out what they were saying. The frst voice he could hear, almost like a soft chorus upon his ears, was that of the woman who gave him life. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- .: But the second... It was the same voice as now, but the Jester could not focus through the haze.... No face...no name... only a voice. A haunting voice from that day. (e)
Enola Reverof: After hours had passed and there was no change in the world around them, the hand suddenly began to tighten around his throat, choking him slowly. As if in response to the new action, the wall around where the arm was petruding from began to spiderweb outwards. Cracks traveled slowly through the concrete as they moved in an irregular pattern of ending in some places and continuing in others. Unusually enough, the cracks seemed to make the outline of a body as they traveled down the tunnel wall. Flakes of white stone began to fall away from the arm before the spiderweb had completly made the outline of a man, and they fell silently into the abyss below. Follwoing behind those flakes
Enola Reverof: was a cloud of dust that blotted out the abyss below them while huge chunks began to crack apart and echoed through the tunnel every time they slammed into the wall in thier great descent. It wasn't long before the rock peeled away enough to show through to the man standing on the other side. Black leather was glimpsed at first until the arm's sleeve gave way to a chest, and then to legs. The other arm revealed itself to casually have its hand in the pocket of this trenchcoat, and the trenchcoat only led down to a pair of black boots standing on nothing but darkness on the other side of the wall. Everything was pulled away to reveal the man except for his face, which remained covered by spiderwebbed stone... and still, the hand choked the man it was holding in complete silence.<e2?
. -{Illustrex}- .: Hours may have passed, but to the being suspened, each empty second seemed like an eternity. His mind was blank and empty except for the occasional echo of the hallow words that taunted him so. "You fool..." As the digits about his neck gripped tighter, he didn't move, didn't even flinch. He could feel the hand crushing his windpipe shut, though it did not matter. The young harlequin had long since died and no longer needed the precious breath that most mortal's could not live without. His gloved digits twitched at his sides as the Jester debated stuggling against the hand. It would have been in vain, but it would give him something to focus upon. (c1)
. -{Illustrex}- .: Just as if he were being granted a wish, the wall beside him began to crumble and crack in the shape of a man. The harlequin turned his masqued face toward the wall as best as he could, but his orange hair kept him from seeing much of what was going on. His orange orbs narrowed upon what he could of the crumbling wall, letting them follow a few chunks as they bounced upon the walls on their decent. The Jester returned his gaze to the blank wall before him, back to the endless darkness. The Illusionary Harlequin could not place his finger on what was going on. His domain... his own private realm was being invaded... but by who? Who could force their way into his private hell. (c2)
. -{Illustrex}- .: He could not take in a breath to ask, seeing as the hand was closing tighter about his neck. 'What do you think of this?' He thought to himself, but it was moreso a question to that haunting voice that had been with him through all of his life. He waited for a few moments, fearing that the demonic creature would not answer. ``What do you want of me?`` The voice eched into his mind as always. ``This being has broken into your realm, not mine. If you wish to know why, then raise your voice to them. Do not idly ponder to yourself. Stand up, take your tail from between your legs and fight back insted of acting like a weakling in front of another being stronger than you.`` (c3)
. -{Illustrex}- .: And just as it came, the voice faded into the darkness leaving the Jester to the words and the faceless body holding him aloft over the abyssal void of darkness. (e4)
Enola Reverof: Without warning, the hand suddenly just opens and releases the boy from its grasp. Remaining extended, the body just seemed to remain frozen the way it was in the wall.... yet it no longer held the boy there drifting. As the boy started to fall once more, the stone blocking the face of this body cracked and fell away. Behind the stone was a suprise even the boy would not have understood. Staring back at him from the wall was his own mask, smiling to him as he could feel himself falling once more. Simply smiling, staring at him as if delighted to see the look on his face... It just kept smiling. <e1>
. -{Illustrex}- .: As the Illusionary Harlequin felt his body begin to slip from the gripping digits of the other beings hand. He quickly turned his head now that he was granted free range of his neck. He managed to turn to catch the wall crumbling into the familiar face of his. His orange orbs blinked a few times, trying to make sense of this situation. His mind was racing, yet he could not force his dry lungs to take in more than a shallow breath. He threw up his right arm out of reflex to grab at the extended arm. As his gloved fingers wrapped about the wrist of the being, he felt his body pull taught again, as another crack reverbirated against the walls. (e1)
Enola Reverof: Ah, how he loved these beautiful sunny days. Most would assume that a creature of shadow would despise the sun, but then again, most are not intelligent enough to know that the sun is what creates a shadow to begin with. So he felt as all creatures do about thier creator, that he should be thankful for his existance by worshiping the beauty of the creator. It was here in this field that he chose to worship his creator as his form seemed a plague upon the beauty and elegance of nature. His hair fell to sheild his face from the lethal rays of his duel natured god. His curse was so that he knew his creation would also be his death. Strands like liquid tar that seemed to sway in a wind that did <c1>
Enola Reverof: not blow, or to simply move of thier own accord to cover an area whenever it seemed one might finally catch a glimpse at the features of this mysterious visitor. Never did they allow the sight of his features except for his eyes. Oceans of blood that simply floated in the sockets of where his eyes once were, before he had torn them out in an attempt to remove his humanity. However, it was never these oceans that caught the attention of the one that caught a glimpse at them, but rather the very pupils of these unusual eyes. Flames burned in the center of these oceans that seemed to be the very flames of Hell itself, as if a glance could reveal to a mortal what awaited him after death. <c2>
Enola Reverof: Illuminating only slightly the rest of his face, these unusual eyes gave him only one thing... blindness. When he removed his sight from his flesh, he had forced himself to leatn to see through the use of shadows. Always, they whispered to him from all around about where he was and who awaited his presence. Never did one truly understand how well he could see until they had witnessed the beauty of his self-inflicted curse. A curse hidden with the rest of his essence by those straight strands of darkness that fell to the middle of his most recognizable garb. The leather appearing trenchcoat that flowed around his body like a satin sheet that drifted around with every movement of the body, <c3>
Enola Reverof: yet resembled the impenetrable darkness of a coffin buried so far beneath the earth from which all mortal life stems. Drifting lazily only inches from the ground, there was nothing left of his features except the bottom of those boots which never seemed to impact whatever they stood upon. It was as if he were there, yet never truly walked upon the surfaces of what the mortal world deemed fragile. To the eyes, it seemed as if he did walk in this place as the grass disappeared beneath his boots and the dirt always seemed to be touched beneath, yet never were there any imprints left when he moved on nor a single blade of grass broken when he lifted his foot on briefly. So he was this <c4>
Enola Reverof: creature of eternal mystery enshrouded in the very essence of the things which defined him. So he walked this day through this field as he relished in the light of the day. On this unexpected day, however, his casual walk through a field was interrupted by the simple and unmoving form of a sleeping Harlequin. Standing in front of it, he crossed his arms over his chest and brought one hand up to let his finger tap on his chin while he waited. Minutes passed, then hours as the sun began to set in the distance and still he stood there. He watched without moving this entire time as the boy just laid there with his back against the trunk of a tree, and slept as if he were invincible. He twitched every <c5>
Enola Reverof: now and then, mumbled incoherently sometimes, and even stopped breathing all together at one point. All of this amazed him as he stood there watching, until the boy's arm reached out and grabbed his own. Growling audibly while he looked down to the boy's handing holding on to his arm, he brought his leg back behind him while his lips parted enough for his voice to break through and practically scream at the Harlequin's sleeping body. "You idiot! You fell asleep against a tree! Now wake up!" Noticing the boy didn't even twitch at his words, he spun his hips as hard as he could as his whole body spun to increase the power put into his kick. Coming around from the side, his foot was <c6>
Enola Reverof: about to connect with the side of the Harlequin's sleeping head as he screamed out again at the boy. "I said.... wake up!" <e7>
. -{Illustrex}- .: As he looked up at the form that held onto the extended arm. The weight of the Jester's body caused the exteneded arm to bend slightly, as a crackling echoed about him. Slowly, the arm began to crumble and break. The Harlequin could feel the arm giving as he tried to reach out and grab ahold of something...anything, but it was too late. The arm snapped off at the elbow and the young Jester felt himself cascading once again in the darkness. The hole in the perfect wall drifted from view, and once again, the creature was lost within the darkness, falling endlessly. He once again let the familiar voice echo within his mind. "You fool..." He could not understand. Why was this voice from his past coming back to haunt him? (c)
. -{Illustrex}- .: What was going on? How was it that his own private sanctum had been violated? As he fell, the Illusionary Harlequin began to tuck his body together, into a fetal position. His once perfect masque stared upward at the endless darkness once again. He expected the demonic duck to say something, but the voice remained silent. Back in the field, the sleeping harlequin did not respond to the words of the other, and as he swung his leg around to kick the Jester, he would not respond to this either. As the boot of the new being came down, it struck the Jester in the side of the head. The force of the kick impacting the the head of the sleeping Harlequin to explode in a spray of porcleain, blood, and bone. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- .: The body of the harlequin simply fell over onto the grass, blood leaking from the open wound.