Post by The Anarchist on Aug 19, 2016 23:32:21 GMT -5
(OOC: I know I didn’t have to RP, but this was a spur of the moment write for character development. Enjoy!)
“You got to realize; you’re the Devil as much as you’re God.” - Charles Manson
Click.
Clack.
Step by step down the darkened corridor went Seromine and his band of merry lunatics. The impromptu meeting with Alexa had been a most curious exploration. Seromine, by his own words, despised human life. But in equals such as “The Black Widow” and if one were to ask, the team of Anarchy, he could find kindred spirits. The group watched the violent decimation of nemesis, Nathan Saniti, from the dark recesses of the PCW arena. Joy no doubt spread amongst them, hidden behind their animal masks of choice. It had not been so long ago that they too were introducing violence to the man of poison hatpins. Had it not been for Seromine capturing his first singles title later in the night, the sight and sound of Nathan’s neck cracking at an inhuman angle would have been the highlight of their evening.
Not that it wasn’t one anyway.
As before in hopping between worlds, a portal opened up. A swirling mass of violet and black churning as if concocted from a cauldron welcomed them back. One by one they exit to the outside of Labyrinth Grove. The trees at night gave off a spooky feel, as if they were the guardians to the property itself. Black facial features etched in the supernatural bark, the oranges which hung from the limbs taking on a luminescent glow. If an intruder were to mistakenly cross over the line between dream and nightmare (the divide of Absinthe and the Grove), the final words sputtered may very well be, “The trees are alive!,” a claim that was neither confirmed or denied by anyone in the group.
Up in the sky was a continuous array of shooting stars streaking across a midnight blue palette. Time was an unknown construct in the realm. It looked like night and felt like night, but looks are deceiving. Seromine marched forward with the International title slung over his left shoulder and his right hand held tightly by the left of Destiny. Their shadows as they walked along the trees grew in stature, giant sized really. No other reason for it other than mild entertainment from the power of their leader.
Just as Seromine was about to wave his hand for the Grove to show the way home, a noise drew his attention from the outside. Everyone’s head snapped in the direction of the unseen cause, tension now breaking in the chilled air. Seromine marches down the dusty path, glaring at the dream-nightmare divide. Approaching where they’d need to cross over, the drunken sounds of a middle-aged vagrant grew irritating. The outsider was completely unaware of the surly bunch that lurked just out of his double vision. After all, there wasn’t sixteen of them walking. Seromine halts his momentum, motioning for everyone to get in formation.
“Don’t breathe...” Seromine whispered with teeth clenched. It was more like the hiss of a snake, than a human reciting those words.
“Da—m-n wife! She fucking took everything. That stupid...”
The vagrant cuts himself off long enough to take another alcoholic swig from his brown bagged bottle of choice. It was in actuality more like three swallows before a belch offended the loneliness of where he stood. Garish colors in the distance of Absinthe were but a blur to this guy. He had about a second to finish his sentence with a “bitch!” before a hand protruded out of nowhere to grab him by the collar. The vagrant was yanked from his lot and through a liquid mirror into Labyrinth Grove.
Only that mirror worked one way. Seromine could see out, but the people of Absinthe couldn’t see in. In fact, at their own peril, if they transversed down the road, from their end, it looked like an abstract painting of a highway. Only...not. Entering only had one conclusion.
“Whe...where am I?” asked the strange man, his drunken stupor reduced to a sobering reality. Literally.
The group had formed a circle around him, looking down with shadowed masks, which partially hid the satanic features. He was scared and with good reason. Wide eyed, confused and shaking in fright, every which way he scooted back brushed him against a human wall. The shooting stars which had populated just moments prior were now gone. The sky was also no longer midnight blue, but more of a concentrated storm of deep purples and reds.
Told you looks could be deceiving.
“Can we kill him!? Please!? Please!? Oh Pretty Please with sugar on top!”
That was the baby of the group speaking, Effix. She was as giddy as a little girl when asking, her speech rotating between grown woman and child. She crouches down, the eyes of her Rabbit mask beginning to glow with a neon pink hue fused with fire in it. “Hehehe, you better hope master pities you!”
Effix shoves the unnamed vagrant onto his back as she stands up to hug Lylyth from the side, her older sister by several years. Seromine for his part leans down and throttles the man’s throat, cinching his fingers like a vice as he violently rips him off the earth and several feet of the ground. Watching him struggle for air, for words, for escape was no doubt bringing happiness to everyone, apparent by the skipping around they did around their leader. All but Destiny, whom at this point was jamming her black nails like knives into his back. Blood began to stain where crust, dirt and god knows what else was on his tan trench coat. His color was beginning to go pallor before Seromine releases his grip.
“Consider yourself lucky” Seromine raged “I’m not going to use your spine as a xylophone. This is a time for celebration! A conquest from “their” world which has rewarded me with gold.”
Seromine leans down to...OFFER HELP? The vagrant no doubt struggling to get his lungs filled with air, was not about to trust the dangerous figure. Seromine nods and pulls his hand away. He says “Smart move” without emotion while standing back up. Tapping his fingers over the faceplate of his title has positioned the followers to pick the man in the air and press him up over their heads. His squirming was futile. His voice no longer in use after having his larynx crushed.
“Every time someone is murdered, a demon gets it’s wings. The trees deserve a gift as well!”
"Yes they do! Brothers and Sisters...it's time to celebrate!"
After those words came the gaggle of laughter. Seromine and Destiny watch as like an army of ants, the followers marched over to the grove. Every tree began to snap open as their bark separated from itself into a gaping mouth. It really didn’t matter which one got to do the physical eating, the human nourishment travelled through all of their roots, which brightened the already bright oranges. The vagrant gets deposited in the lucky trees mouth, it’s teeth quickly shredding flesh, bone and tissue in a mechanical whir. Blood sprayed to surrounding groups, and before long the meal was finished. Seromine and his bride join the others as he motions without interruption for the trees to divide. As they part, the eight figures of evil walk inside and are soon hidden within the maze. The two parents would soon be at home, with a chance to celebrate with the people who mattered the most to them: Their daughters.
“You got to realize; you’re the Devil as much as you’re God.” - Charles Manson
Click.
Clack.
Step by step down the darkened corridor went Seromine and his band of merry lunatics. The impromptu meeting with Alexa had been a most curious exploration. Seromine, by his own words, despised human life. But in equals such as “The Black Widow” and if one were to ask, the team of Anarchy, he could find kindred spirits. The group watched the violent decimation of nemesis, Nathan Saniti, from the dark recesses of the PCW arena. Joy no doubt spread amongst them, hidden behind their animal masks of choice. It had not been so long ago that they too were introducing violence to the man of poison hatpins. Had it not been for Seromine capturing his first singles title later in the night, the sight and sound of Nathan’s neck cracking at an inhuman angle would have been the highlight of their evening.
Not that it wasn’t one anyway.
As before in hopping between worlds, a portal opened up. A swirling mass of violet and black churning as if concocted from a cauldron welcomed them back. One by one they exit to the outside of Labyrinth Grove. The trees at night gave off a spooky feel, as if they were the guardians to the property itself. Black facial features etched in the supernatural bark, the oranges which hung from the limbs taking on a luminescent glow. If an intruder were to mistakenly cross over the line between dream and nightmare (the divide of Absinthe and the Grove), the final words sputtered may very well be, “The trees are alive!,” a claim that was neither confirmed or denied by anyone in the group.
Up in the sky was a continuous array of shooting stars streaking across a midnight blue palette. Time was an unknown construct in the realm. It looked like night and felt like night, but looks are deceiving. Seromine marched forward with the International title slung over his left shoulder and his right hand held tightly by the left of Destiny. Their shadows as they walked along the trees grew in stature, giant sized really. No other reason for it other than mild entertainment from the power of their leader.
Just as Seromine was about to wave his hand for the Grove to show the way home, a noise drew his attention from the outside. Everyone’s head snapped in the direction of the unseen cause, tension now breaking in the chilled air. Seromine marches down the dusty path, glaring at the dream-nightmare divide. Approaching where they’d need to cross over, the drunken sounds of a middle-aged vagrant grew irritating. The outsider was completely unaware of the surly bunch that lurked just out of his double vision. After all, there wasn’t sixteen of them walking. Seromine halts his momentum, motioning for everyone to get in formation.
“Don’t breathe...” Seromine whispered with teeth clenched. It was more like the hiss of a snake, than a human reciting those words.
“Da—m-n wife! She fucking took everything. That stupid...”
The vagrant cuts himself off long enough to take another alcoholic swig from his brown bagged bottle of choice. It was in actuality more like three swallows before a belch offended the loneliness of where he stood. Garish colors in the distance of Absinthe were but a blur to this guy. He had about a second to finish his sentence with a “bitch!” before a hand protruded out of nowhere to grab him by the collar. The vagrant was yanked from his lot and through a liquid mirror into Labyrinth Grove.
Only that mirror worked one way. Seromine could see out, but the people of Absinthe couldn’t see in. In fact, at their own peril, if they transversed down the road, from their end, it looked like an abstract painting of a highway. Only...not. Entering only had one conclusion.
“Whe...where am I?” asked the strange man, his drunken stupor reduced to a sobering reality. Literally.
The group had formed a circle around him, looking down with shadowed masks, which partially hid the satanic features. He was scared and with good reason. Wide eyed, confused and shaking in fright, every which way he scooted back brushed him against a human wall. The shooting stars which had populated just moments prior were now gone. The sky was also no longer midnight blue, but more of a concentrated storm of deep purples and reds.
Told you looks could be deceiving.
“Can we kill him!? Please!? Please!? Oh Pretty Please with sugar on top!”
That was the baby of the group speaking, Effix. She was as giddy as a little girl when asking, her speech rotating between grown woman and child. She crouches down, the eyes of her Rabbit mask beginning to glow with a neon pink hue fused with fire in it. “Hehehe, you better hope master pities you!”
Effix shoves the unnamed vagrant onto his back as she stands up to hug Lylyth from the side, her older sister by several years. Seromine for his part leans down and throttles the man’s throat, cinching his fingers like a vice as he violently rips him off the earth and several feet of the ground. Watching him struggle for air, for words, for escape was no doubt bringing happiness to everyone, apparent by the skipping around they did around their leader. All but Destiny, whom at this point was jamming her black nails like knives into his back. Blood began to stain where crust, dirt and god knows what else was on his tan trench coat. His color was beginning to go pallor before Seromine releases his grip.
“Consider yourself lucky” Seromine raged “I’m not going to use your spine as a xylophone. This is a time for celebration! A conquest from “their” world which has rewarded me with gold.”
Seromine leans down to...OFFER HELP? The vagrant no doubt struggling to get his lungs filled with air, was not about to trust the dangerous figure. Seromine nods and pulls his hand away. He says “Smart move” without emotion while standing back up. Tapping his fingers over the faceplate of his title has positioned the followers to pick the man in the air and press him up over their heads. His squirming was futile. His voice no longer in use after having his larynx crushed.
“Every time someone is murdered, a demon gets it’s wings. The trees deserve a gift as well!”
"Yes they do! Brothers and Sisters...it's time to celebrate!"
After those words came the gaggle of laughter. Seromine and Destiny watch as like an army of ants, the followers marched over to the grove. Every tree began to snap open as their bark separated from itself into a gaping mouth. It really didn’t matter which one got to do the physical eating, the human nourishment travelled through all of their roots, which brightened the already bright oranges. The vagrant gets deposited in the lucky trees mouth, it’s teeth quickly shredding flesh, bone and tissue in a mechanical whir. Blood sprayed to surrounding groups, and before long the meal was finished. Seromine and his bride join the others as he motions without interruption for the trees to divide. As they part, the eight figures of evil walk inside and are soon hidden within the maze. The two parents would soon be at home, with a chance to celebrate with the people who mattered the most to them: Their daughters.