Dark Nights, to Dark days. [Solo][closed]
Jun 30, 2015 17:25:34 GMT -6
Post by Drei on Jun 30, 2015 17:25:34 GMT -6
Twisting clouds of hazed murky fog clogged all palpable sights, making it almost impossible to discern what lay before him. Lifting his hands outwards to shakily feel for that which lie out of sight. He could see vague gestures. Dancing silhouettes that moved with a grace almost transcending beauty that any human could match. Intertwining figures which moved upon the thinnest of lines at elevated points to the amazement of crowds spectating below. As these shadowy figures danced about so precariously, he too saw the shadows themselves dance. A pang of nostalgia crept into his state of being as the twisting tendrils arced and gracefully swirled about. Some twisted and turned in unison around a central one like a dragon of serpentine build and murky black composition. Other tendrils congregated into great orbs of inky shadow which pulsated and revolved in place, all while this dragon swerved and turned upon flawless timings. He had seen this before, hadn't he?
Even as he tried to recall what it was, he felt a weightlessness take hold. His body, suddenly free of the land's burden fell with the feather like feeling easing a soft smile onto the ashen haired boy's lips. He drifted thought this point of bliss like trance for uncounted moments. Then...he fell. The descent was strong. It was harsh and abrupt, the abrasive wrath of swirling winds pulling him towards the surface. His stomach revolved and churned within, a knot of anguish and sudden confused fear as he crashed into the ground. Then..darkness.
--- Simple ----
He rose with a sudden start and gasp of air. It felt like he had been holding his breath, and he panted feverishly as he gazed around the pitch back room frantically. Amber hued eyes found only shadows, and anxiety quickly ate away at him as he tried to look for anything to focus on. Anything at all discernible in the dark. Failure. The hysteric confusion that was filling his panic ridden mind while the young shaman shifted out of the uncomfortable room. His hands lifted to the sides of his jaw before he traced his palms up to his temples. A splitting pain was ripping through his head. As if someone was driving hundreds of small knives into his mind simultaneously from every direction. The pain became all but immobilizing as the young Shaman shouted out in agony. His back seized up and he found a rough impact briefly send him sliding along it to the right while he lost his balance. His body slightly shaking from the pain and tremoring further caused him to crumple on the floor in a small semi-ball. With his knees tucked inwards towards his chest, the shaman felt the stinging pain grow.
He couldn't develop a coherent thought. Tears welled up from the pain and distress before they began to trail down the bridge of his nose and side of his cheek. every second felt like an eternity. Every moment a life time eating away at his sanity. A small part of him started to regain focus. A minute fraction grasped at the straws of sanity and collective thought. He could register small things. The hard wooden wall that he pressed against in an attempt to stop the shaking. The floor and it's soft squeaking of wooden boards as he shifted his weight. Then he noticed it. Amidst the pain that threatened to overwhelm his mental threshold...he felt a mass of negativity. As if, locked away, rested his fears, anger, and loneliness all in one swirling entity.
It hurt. Try though he might, he could not bring these thoughts to a level of discerning origin. So he didn't try. He tried to suppress it. Bury it. Wall after wall of internal focus. Every ounce of discipline he could muster. It...took several minutes. By the time he was able to cognitively focus again...his skin was ghostly pale. He gazed around with anxiety still upon his face as he realized in that daunting moment. He was alone. No one in the room with him, and no one out there for him. Was that good? He couldn't be sure. It did little to ease him..so he tried to recall what usually helped. His parents.
That. That was when he realized what was wrong. He couldn't remember. He could imagine his fathers robes. His father's build. He could even imagine the figure. No face. He couldn't picture his fathers expression, his gaze or visage. None of it. Nor for his mother. What..why? What was going on?
There he sat. In that single room, slowly tugging his knees to his chest and folding his arms over them as if to hug them. He rested ins chin on his knees and slowly shifted with a weary expression into sleepless stupor. It was going to be a long night...and he had a feeling most nights were only going to get longer...
[End]
Even as he tried to recall what it was, he felt a weightlessness take hold. His body, suddenly free of the land's burden fell with the feather like feeling easing a soft smile onto the ashen haired boy's lips. He drifted thought this point of bliss like trance for uncounted moments. Then...he fell. The descent was strong. It was harsh and abrupt, the abrasive wrath of swirling winds pulling him towards the surface. His stomach revolved and churned within, a knot of anguish and sudden confused fear as he crashed into the ground. Then..darkness.
--- Simple ----
He rose with a sudden start and gasp of air. It felt like he had been holding his breath, and he panted feverishly as he gazed around the pitch back room frantically. Amber hued eyes found only shadows, and anxiety quickly ate away at him as he tried to look for anything to focus on. Anything at all discernible in the dark. Failure. The hysteric confusion that was filling his panic ridden mind while the young shaman shifted out of the uncomfortable room. His hands lifted to the sides of his jaw before he traced his palms up to his temples. A splitting pain was ripping through his head. As if someone was driving hundreds of small knives into his mind simultaneously from every direction. The pain became all but immobilizing as the young Shaman shouted out in agony. His back seized up and he found a rough impact briefly send him sliding along it to the right while he lost his balance. His body slightly shaking from the pain and tremoring further caused him to crumple on the floor in a small semi-ball. With his knees tucked inwards towards his chest, the shaman felt the stinging pain grow.
He couldn't develop a coherent thought. Tears welled up from the pain and distress before they began to trail down the bridge of his nose and side of his cheek. every second felt like an eternity. Every moment a life time eating away at his sanity. A small part of him started to regain focus. A minute fraction grasped at the straws of sanity and collective thought. He could register small things. The hard wooden wall that he pressed against in an attempt to stop the shaking. The floor and it's soft squeaking of wooden boards as he shifted his weight. Then he noticed it. Amidst the pain that threatened to overwhelm his mental threshold...he felt a mass of negativity. As if, locked away, rested his fears, anger, and loneliness all in one swirling entity.
It hurt. Try though he might, he could not bring these thoughts to a level of discerning origin. So he didn't try. He tried to suppress it. Bury it. Wall after wall of internal focus. Every ounce of discipline he could muster. It...took several minutes. By the time he was able to cognitively focus again...his skin was ghostly pale. He gazed around with anxiety still upon his face as he realized in that daunting moment. He was alone. No one in the room with him, and no one out there for him. Was that good? He couldn't be sure. It did little to ease him..so he tried to recall what usually helped. His parents.
That. That was when he realized what was wrong. He couldn't remember. He could imagine his fathers robes. His father's build. He could even imagine the figure. No face. He couldn't picture his fathers expression, his gaze or visage. None of it. Nor for his mother. What..why? What was going on?
There he sat. In that single room, slowly tugging his knees to his chest and folding his arms over them as if to hug them. He rested ins chin on his knees and slowly shifted with a weary expression into sleepless stupor. It was going to be a long night...and he had a feeling most nights were only going to get longer...
[End]