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Topics - pari.

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Character Creation / i'm doing fine — twc storage.
« on: June 18, 2018, 12:02:45 AM »
literally just a place to store twc characters and toss ideas and stuff here for characters
edit this later

Creative Center / waiting for your love — dump
« on: June 14, 2018, 11:55:20 PM »
i hope that you're happy with me in your life,

welcome to yet another new dump!
cause i legit hated the other one oof
buuut uh let's see how this one goes!

i hope that you won't slip away in the night.

Advanced Roleplay / hi yes plot with me please
« on: June 11, 2018, 10:32:36 PM »
somebody new is gonna comfort me, like you never do.

heyo i'm pari and i've kinda been dead for a while, but i'm back! and with that, i am in dire need of plots! i really wanna get back into writing since it's been so long (aka an entire school year oof), but i'm probably gonna highkey suck in the beginning so i'm really sorry in advance! i am honestly up for doing whatever, so don't be afraid to hmu with ideas and everything! and if not, we could totally just figure something out! anywaaaay with all that said, def throw some plots at me or just pop in!! :^)

Advanced Roleplay / RESONANCE — sign-ups
« on: May 14, 2018, 09:49:08 PM »

this is america.
it was deafening. the silence was thundering in the bunker. people were packed like sardines, a shelter meant for one hundred ended up housing three hundred. the heat was sweltering, a sticky, humid, people kind of heat. a standing in line at the amusement park in one hundred ten degree, kind of heat. it made some irritable, bitter and irrational at the lack of space, at the lack of communication to the outside world, at the silence on the radio. everyone waited with bated breath for an okay, a solid transmission from the commander-in-chief that they could surface once again.

instead, they received a booming rattle that shook the entire bunker. the lights went out, the ground trembled beneath people's feet, and everyone spiraled into a panic. but it was silent. only quiet rang through the throes of families gathering and the screams of the terrified. silence was not silent, it was a profound ringing. and for the next two days, all that everyone knew was the pelting of bombs from above. that, and radio silence. their hopes of a false alarm, of returning back to the same reality was shattered in that stifling bunker heat.

it was another three months of absolute silence. the military stopped releasing information after day two, bombing ceased after day six, and hopes dimmed by day seventeen. no one knew what had become of their once pronounced city. no one wanted to find out. furthermore, not without instruction. ones they would never receive due to the ring. peculiarly enough, once the bombs stopped wreaking havoc and the rumbling subsided, the ringing never left. it remained, and drowned out any form of noise, and no one questioned it, not when they could not hear any news and the bombs rattled the shelter for two days straight.

no one questioned it until they left the bunker for the first time in three months. the sun blazed bright above them, and the air smelled of smoke and dismay. the site was devastating, the world they knew was in shambles before them. upon attempting to convey their woes to the strangers beside them, nothing could be heard. only silence. no birds, no bugs, no noise. only a splitting ring that echoed in their ears.

communication was shakily switched to nonverbal methods- from gestures to actions to pointing and making faces, they attempted to communicate and colonize. nothing was perfect, though. it was frustrating, maddening, even. some people parted ways and took their leave, others remained in close to their destroyed memories. it was a battle of letting go, and fearing change. yet no one recognized the bigger fears that they should have housed.

for the first couple of weeks, people had assumed all the flora and fauna had been destroyed through the nuclear bombs. but they were horribly wrong. creatures only morphed due to the radiation and damage, all became grotesque things with only one instinct: to survive. flora was even a threat, it grew quicker than weeds and covered whatever surface they could grow into. it was beautiful, the first couple of days, as if seeing a jungle manifest before their eyes, but it became a hassle when they began growing over people in a single night of rest.

stuck in a world of daunting new creatures and ruin and decay, people didn't have much more of an option but to fight for their lives.

Advanced Roleplay / song in the key of hope — private
« on: April 21, 2018, 11:36:11 PM »
claire loves u!
i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you, take me back to the night we met. i don't know what i'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you. oh, take me back to the night we met. when the night was full of terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears. when you had not touched me yet, oh, take me back to the night we met.
his heart was lodged in his throat, filled half with dread and half with excitement, and his stomach was a pit of nerves. cassidy hadn't even arrived yet and somehow, jamie was on the verge of some kind of mental breakdown. a completely unnecessary one. he and cassidy were going well, great, even. they've been on more than a handful of dates, they texted often, things were going well. which was why jamie invited him over for dinner, this time. it was also why jamie was panicking. cassidy was probably one of the only people who could both put him at ease and send him into a downward spiral of anxiety and stress all at the same time.

jamie still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, not when he was treading so lightly around him. he was afraid of disrupting a fragile bond. after losing him once during college, jamie was clinging tightly to the string of fate that intended them to meet that one night a couple of months ago. despite that being a couple of months ago, progress was slow, and jamie wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad one. he was worried about accidentally pushing the other away, or moving too fast, or scaring him off. needless to say, jamie was a wound up ball of nerves around cassidy. he just didn't want to ruin a good thing. a "too-good-to-be-true" good thing.

but god, he really liked cassidy. so much that he still got tongue-tied and nervous around the other, so much that just the mere thought of him coming over for the first time made his stomach tie into knots and his hands grow clammy. he was in deep, trying to wade through overwhelming feelings, nervous glances, soft smiles, and fumbling kisses. jamie attila castillo was in love. that was his big epiphany while trying to cook something nice and vegetarian and good enough to eat. jamie ended up burning his hand after that realization and nearly dropped two wine glasses trying to set the table.

and then he was left to sit with his thoughts upon getting everything ready. he may be in love with cassidy, but was cassidy in love with him? what if this was meant to be a casual thing? or maybe cassidy actually hated him? were they even dating? they hadn't even talked about the prospects of becoming boyfriends-- or maybe that was implied? jamie knew nothing anymore. all he knew was that sitting with georgia and waiting for the man he loved to arrive was a difficult, difficult predicament to be in. and of all the things he didn't know, he especially didn't know whether or not he should tell cassidy tonight.

/ aaaah sorry this is so shit, i just rlly wanted to get something up!!

Creative Center / another year alone — dump
« on: April 02, 2018, 10:33:09 PM »
so tell me, are you happy?

wow new dump, what's new?? literally nothing.
but i figure i just need a fresh start to get things restarted
on my end!! so uh yeah, new dump!

no, not really.

Character Creation / truth be told, i miss you / dump
« on: December 22, 2017, 06:23:16 PM »
truth be told, i'm lying
TIME FOR A NEW DUMP! just cause the other one was getting a lil cluttered and it's almost a new year and all and sO some new year cleaning and all!! anyway, feel free to track and post and whatever else you wanna do! :^)

Advanced Roleplay / wingardium leviosa - hp, open plotting!
« on: December 16, 2017, 07:02:40 PM »
hi hi hi, yes hello welcome, this is a harry potter plotting thread!!
uhhh it's open to everyone cause i mean, i think that's fun and the more wizards (and witches) the better!!

i don't have a character yet cause i wanna make someone new, but he's gonna be in slytherin (idk if he'll be a good slytherin or a bad one yet) and he's gonna be in his sixth/seventh year and yah :^)

Spoiler: character list • show

phanto's dumbass gryffindor guy - year fuck off

matthew bailey - third year
reiji yamashita - fifth year
thorne harkness - seventh year

lilian lythgoe - fifth year
alfrothul andrΓ©s - fifth year
morna park - third year

name here - sixth/seventh year

OOC Discussion / SOFT EYES & LOW LIGHTS | plot with picasso!
« on: November 20, 2017, 09:37:37 PM »
leave t snakes are biting at my heels, the worries that refuse to let us go.

hi there, hello!! i'm pari and i have this dumb dork picasso or casso or kosey or you know, just dickhead and he's new and kind of a hot mess. he's twenty-four and in desparate need of plots, all of his info is in my signature below! :^)

open to;

- friends: this much is a given, i think it'd be really nice for him to have a couple/a lot of friends, especially to keep him in line!

- frenemies: this is my vice, i love frenemies, i just want them to bicker all the time but also have each other's backs from time to time.

- enemies: yeah, it's not that hard to hate picasso, so feel free to throw some enemies in if you'd like, 'cause picasso is such an obnoxious handful t b h.

- sibling figures: it'd be really nice to give him some sibling-like relationships since his own blood related siblings were such a big part of his life for so long, he's always kind of yearning to have this kind of close knit familial bond again, so it'd be really great to have!

- flings/crushes/love interests: picasso is very very much open to flings or friends with benefits, he's more the type for flings than commitment. that said though, he's definitely also open to crushes/unrequited crushes as well 'cause that'd be interesting to delve into and discover. i'm a bit more hesitant about love interests, but i don't mind if things end up taking a turn that way either.

- minor injuries/fights/possible major injuries: fighting and minor injuries would be fun, especially since picasso isn't big on fighting in the first place, but having two characters riled up enough to start a fight would be interesting. major injuries are a little iffy on me, but i'm still interested in it all the same!

closed to;
- death/rape/etc.: i think this much is a given? feel free to ask me if anything is closed though, if you aren't sure. :^)

Advanced Roleplay / god these guys are a mess - p.
« on: October 28, 2017, 11:03:47 PM »
@odds @pad o'lantern

aka naomi, jaden, and ken plotting

Advanced Roleplay / i fall apart down to my core - p.
« on: October 28, 2017, 10:22:21 PM »
abel b. meijer
you're amazing!
u rock !
"we're just strangers,
with the same damn hunger."
the ring was loud.

clambering voices of multiple people, cheers and shouting echoed in the crowded halls. no matter how many times abel was faced with all the racket, he was never used to it. never used to the prying eyes of the crowd, waiting for the spectacle to befall on them in a matter of moments. it always made abel nervous. the crowd, the lights, the ring. being the reigning champion made him nervous. he didn't like titles, he didn't like being the one that everyone placed their bets on, the one that people knew would come out on top every time. all champions fall, at some point, someone new would always have to take the lead.

his eyes flicker back to the gate as the jingle of keys pierced his ears. they locked the gates like clockwork, two minutes before every match. he could run. it took them ten seconds to lock the door, ten seconds was more than enough time for abel to ram his way past them just before the lock set in place. but as stranger pulled away from the gates, abel draws his attention back to his competitor. he never ran. he could never bring himself to physically do it. he knew he'd never make it far. not with the entire crowd in his way and all the guards surrounding the place. it wasn't a plausible escape. and frankly, abel was terrified. the prospects of making it out were grim, and furthermore, what was he to do when if he did manage to make it out? would he know wear he was? would he be able to avoid capture long enough to find someone willing to help him?

no, the answer was no.

the other kid in the ring was younger than him, but he was built like a fright train. tall and bulky, but frightened. it had to be only his second or third match, as far as abel could tell. abel could see a lot of his younger self in the kid's eyes. fear, panic, hunger. to win. no doubt to get out of their hell hole, as promised. but abel was an indicator of that lie. they were all promised freedom if they earned it through their fights, but from all the years that abel had been stuck here, he knew it was a lie. they weren't allowed to leave, at least, not back to their families.

the match was quick to start and quick to finish. while the other kid was taller and most likely stronger than abel, abel had agility and confidence on his side. while he could never get used to being a spectacle, he was used to fighting. he knew his strategies, he knew how to intimidate even the biggest of opponents. he was a champion, after all. winning was going to be a difficult feat for a newbie. abel wished he felt remorse for winning, but at this point, he'd grown indifferent. it wasn't a matter of personal feelings anymore, it was winning or losing, and abel was intent on winning. he couldn't let his emotions take control of him.

he keeps quiet as he's led back to his room, hands bound behind his back. the routine was strict. never a second out of place. there was a bag over his head, but he'd long since remembered the directions to his room by now, not that he'd ever tell them that. it's not long before he's back in his room, a couple of bandages and antiseptic tossed on the floor beside him. enough to keep him clean and healing, abel supposed. he flicks on the light, eyes briefly passing over his roommate's. he draws his attention away only moments after, he had to deal with his wounds, before dealing with the other.

/ i'm so sorry this is so shitty
it's literally so late where i'm at and idk i literally could not build up muse for the life of me for some reason>>
my next post will be better hopefullyyyy!!

Character Creation / ATTICUS - character study
« on: October 08, 2017, 09:18:03 AM »

Northstar District / sorry for the trouble | joining
« on: October 07, 2017, 11:39:04 PM »
there was nothing for him out here. and that was saying a lot. picasso was used to being alone and in the middle of nowhere, spare a couple of sparse buildings and abandoned cars. normally, there was at least a couple of items in each building or car that he could snag on his leave, but here? nothing. and that only meant one of two things. either the people who had abandoned their said homes and cars were thorough in collecting their items, or there was someone else coming around and gathering items before picasso came along. either scenario wasn't pleasant. he preferred to survive through raiding and stocking up on what he could, not particularly hunting or farming or whatever other way was available. so spending all of his time unlocking every car and checking its compartments only to receive their car documents and a pack of gum or two as reward to his efforts was both troubling and frustrating.

see, he hasn't eaten in about two days. not because he didn't have food, but mainly since he was too busy rationing. after all, who knew how long before he could find himself back in an urban area to search a couple more grocery stores? he'd much rather starve and wait it out until he could find a decent supply of food to keep him going. or at least knew where he was. picasso was wandering, drifting from one location to the next and only hoping that he'd get lucky at least once a day. living such a nomadic lifestyle was pretty taxing and stressful and occasionally, worrying, but picasso didn't mind. also, he just hasn't quite found a group to settle with yet, either. finding groups or bands of people willing to accept someone new was rare. it's even rarer to find a group that was well-off enough to take him in. even worse, he was a total kleptomaniac. not that he ever mentioned anything about it, of course.

blowing out a heavy breath, he tugs at the handle of yet another abandoned car (not that there were many, picasso just checked a lot of them), a surge of excitement coursing through his veins as it easily gave and opened with a firm click. sliding into the driver's seat, he quickly rummaged through the control center, picking up the pack of camels along with the zippo a little bit further down. shoving the two into his back pocket, he resumed searching the car, only to finally settle on the fact that the cigarettes and lighter were the only useful things in there. given half the pack was empty, but it was still a couple more to get him through the next couple of days. either way, he wasn't complaining. cigarettes were cigarettes, picasso was grateful to find some more before he ran out.

climbing back out of the car and shutting the door, he went ahead and pulled a cigarette out of the cartridge. the lighter gave a soft hiss as a spark flew, a tiny flame jumping to life and aiding in the process of lighting up the paper. picasso leans against the small honda, allowing himself a moment of rest while he took his smoke. he takes a drag, allows it to trail down his throat before releasing it into the semi-chilly air. it wasn't cold enough for picasso to look for a real jacket yet, but it also wasn't warm enough for a simple t-shirt and jeans. which explained his ratty hoodie. he needed a shower. or new clothes. both, perhaps, would be the best choice.

he could see some kind of building looming in the distance, but he couldn't quite make out what it was, not even while squinting. it looked too small to be an office, but too big to be a regular grocery store. well, at least it would give him an incentive to keep going, he supposes. it doesn't take long before picasso flicks the butt of the cigarette onto the floor, digging the ball of his foot into it with a bit of a twist. there wasn't much out here, but picasso didn't want something to catch on fire due to his idiocy if he could help it. he didn't exactly carry an ash tray around. maybe if he found some kind of pier one import for a nice, decorative one to shove into his backpack. not that he'd be able to do keep it clean without a trashcan nearby. maybe he'd skip on pier one import. unless he could find one with a lid. that'd be useful.

he shifts the backpack on his shoulders before falling into step once again, casually trekking his way to the building in the distance. it wasn't long before he was met with a fence, but upon closer inspection of the building, it looked to be a costco. perfect, this was exactly the luck he'd been hoping for. though, with the fence, it looked to be fortified and picasso highly doubted that the group staying there had left. it was a costco, they had to be set for life. unless it was raided and abandoned, by now. he'd never know unless he checked it out, right?

it takes a bit of an effort to scale the fence, but he manages, tossing his backpack onto the other side before climbing over and landing with a soft thud. right, that wasn't so bad. he pulls his backpack back onto his shoulders and cautiously makes his way toward the entrance, keeping his eyes open in search of someone, anyone. he decided against calling out, incase if there were people and they were hostile. if anything, maybe he could just quickly get in and grab a couple of essentials before ducking out of there. he just had to be quick on his feet, and quiet. and if he got caught then... maybe they'd be friendly if picasso prayed and hoped enough.

Advanced Roleplay / RUH ROH / plotting
« on: October 01, 2017, 09:27:33 AM »
basically just gonna be a bunch of teens/young adults exploring crimes and/or haunted places and stuff and cracking these problems and getting told "i would've gotten away with it too if it weren't for u rotten kids!"

i either wanna use warner as shaggy or maisie as velma!! i neeD heLP
scooby-doo where r u

Advanced Roleplay / angel of small death - p.
« on: September 16, 2017, 09:58:40 AM »
Spoiler: show
"do you think we'll make it to earth one day?"

dark cobalt eyes glanced over at his lover, who was gazing up at the sky with hooded eyes. tilting his head, the man watched his partner link his fingers together innocently. "i mean, do you think we'll recognize one another when we pass the veil? i can't imagine that father would let us be separated, after all." the man smiled softly. the elder of the two gave a gentle huff and shrugged a little bit, smiling gently as he reached for his lover's hands.

"jackson." a voice made both men look over. this distraction was enough to make the man let go of his lover; that action costing everything. he had no time to react before he was grabbed, his lover screaming for him. dark sapphire eyes sought frantically for something to fight with, though he was interrupted by something warm hitting his face. glancing over, he noticed the splattered blood emerging from his partner; which was now coating his face and body. the man had no time to mourn before he was ripped from heaven, finally opening his mouth to scream.


earth wasn't everything people made it out to be. all the angels wanted to pass the veil, all the demons wanted to go back. i... i didn't want to be anywhere. i've lived so many lives, it was hard to distinguish what had happened in which life. i'd lived in heaven, i've died and gone to hell, i've been reborn at the same age that i died at; peaking my physical body out at about twenty-nine. in reality, i was basically as old as time. as old as satan and god themselves. beyond earth, there are three dimensions; heaven, hell, and limbo. lucifer ruled over hell, god ruled over heaven, and i... i ruled over limbo.

everyone thinks that hell is the worst place you can go. they're taught about the raging fires, the eternal torture. but, in reality, hell is nothing like that. i never understood why humans thought that hell was bad. i mean, lucifer was "evil", therefore, why would he punish you for being evil as well? it made no sense, but that's what everyone seemed to believe. heaven was... boring. everyone was sinless, had the same personality, no personal opinions about everything. there was no conflict, no lying, no cheating, no problems. it was... so boring. no one had sex, no one got drunk, no one did drugs, no one got into passionate arguments about what they disagreed on. nobody thought differently. heaven, to them, was perfect. i've lived on heaven, hell, earth and limbo and heaven, by far, is my least favorite.

limbo... to put it simply, limbo was beyond terrifying. all the souls of everyone who has died go there; but they don't know they've died. all the soul think they're still alive. every soul is separated from one another (not by force, it just ends up that way), and, therefore, it is an eternity of loneliness, an eternity of solitude and suffering. in limbo, you constantly feel the pain of your death. all of the sadness and pain from your life is constantly running through you. souls start out sane, crying for their loved ones and roaming aimlessly. the more time they spend in limbo, though, the more insane they get. the souls turn against one another. they turn limbo from a cry-fest, into a living nightmare. and i'm the one who has to rule over them. see, there are three people who rule over the main domains; lucifer rules over hell and the demons, god has heaven and the angels, and i... i get limbo and the tormented souls of the damned.

being the grim reaper has its perks, though. for example, even god and satan fear me. which, of course, is to be expected. as the ruler over limbo (and the souls of everyone) i am, quite literally, the one who determines whether you live or die. i can take anyone's soul at any time. lucifer and god both know this (and, yes, both lucifer and god have souls. every living thing does). that, by definition, makes me the most powerful being in existence. i mean, i can't make planets and new species like god. i can't command a fleet of soldiers in battle like satan. but, what i can do, is kill everything in existence. i am the only thing that is powerful enough to kill god and lucifer. not even they can destroy each other. but, much to their dismay, they gave me a little bit too much power.

however, this doesn't mean that i'm immortal. beat me up too much and i can die. or, rather, my physical body dies. my soul will be transported back to limbo while my physical body is remade. this is possible by the ring that i wear at all times. when my physical body is beaten beyond repair, my soul retreats back into the ring, which is like a portal back to limbo for me. my body repairs itself while i wait in limbo, and i'm automatically transported back when it's been fixed. it was an odd process, and, depending on how bad the injuries are, it could take up to a century for me to get back to earth.

hell was predictable. heaven was boring. limbo was a nightmare. the only solace i found was on earth. there, i could do as i pleased. i could make myself seen or not. i could kill whoever i wanted, whenever i wanted. i could drink as much as i wanted and not hurt from it in the long run. i couldn't get any sicknesses (i could fuck the dirtiest person on earth and be fine). normal humans typically couldn't dish out enough to kill me. i'd only ever been killed by demons and myself. i could pretty much do anything i wanted. well, except for the one thing that i wished i could do. no matter what i did, i couldn't die. not permanently, anyway. despite how much i wanted to; despite being able to take every living thing's soul, i couldn't take my own soul. it was the curse that i had been stuck with towards the beginning of existence. right before i was going to pass the veil and live my life on earth with my lover.

i know that i can't die.

nothing can kill me permanently; i know that.

but that doesn't stop me from trying anyway.

+ + + + +

i made sure he didn't die. i made sure that, every time life threw him something (sickness, an enemy, natural disasters, etc.) i was there to help. he never noticed all i did for him; which was understandable because i never made myself visible. i never let him know that i was there. i'd watch him for hours on end, watching him grow and go through the stages of human (or, rather, inhuman) life. he wasn't a human, i knew that, but he was still part human. not fully mortal, but nowhere near being immortal, either. people made fun of him; thinking that he was just making up the flickering movement in the corner of his eyes. neither he, nor anyone else knew that he was telling the truth. he couldn't have known that he was being hunted. he couldn't have known that the grim reaper was playing the part of his bodyguard.

he was so much like him. same face, same hair, same laugh, same name... i couldn't take him. i couldn't let anyone else take him. he shared everything with my previous love, and yet... it wasn't him. this man wasn't my pilot, and i knew that. but, any time i thought him him being dead, it hurt. i couldn't let anything happen to him. not again. even if this man wasn't the one i had thought i was going to spend all eternity with, he looked so much like him that i couldn't stand the thought.

so, when i saw the armada of demons heading towards his house, of course i went, too.

i wasn't sure why lucifer wanted him dead so much, but i wouldn't stand for it. not at all. i couldn't control who lucifer wanted dead, but i could prevent it. this was the first time i had given a shit about who satan targeted. but, since pilot wasn't immortal, i couldn't let his physical body die, otherwise i'd be forced to take his soul. so, i followed after the demons, my weapon of choice (twin chain scythes that were identical in every way, connected by a long chain that allowed for both close-quarters combat, and long ranged attacks. i made sure my weapon was fairly simple, but effective. when your heard the chains of my scythes rattling, you were terrified beyond belief. it was effective, and, honestly, i found it fun to watch the panicking of anyone who heard it. it was told in children's stories; folklore made sure that most everyone was terrified of the sound of rattling chains. rattling chains meant i was coming. some people brushed it off because they didn't believe in me, but you won't believe how fast they beg for their lives when i actually show up.

following the demons, i frowned a little bit. there were a lot... i ignored this factor, though, positioning the scythes so that the chain dragged behind me. they circled around the man's house, and i wasn't long before they had dragged him out. frowning a bit more, i moved forward, chains rattling noisily. of course, i couldn't mask the sounds i made, and the demons were able to see me. one of them turned upon hearing the chains and shouted to the others, "the reaper is here!" the rest turned towards me, and a good portion of the group moved forward to me, while a few demons stayed back. no doubt calling for reinforcements. like it would matter. one way or another, they will all end up dead.

naturally, i went for the demons closest to the mortal.

throwing one of the scythes, it stuck in the head of the demon closest to him, and i ripped the scythe back hard enough that it completely tore the head from its body. this made the rest of the demons snarl and jump towards me at once. of course, as the fight was going on, pilot could not see me. he just hear the rattling off my chains and see the demons' bodies being cut apart; their gross black blood being strewn out everywhere and anywhere. now, this wasn't to say that i wasn't taking hits, because i definitely was. the reason for this being that more and more demons were coming through the portal that they had opened previously. it was getting overwhelming, actually, but i was somehow managing.

well, i was managing until he screamed.

i made the mistake of looking over, seeing one of the demons running a sword through his chest -- just barely missing his heart. this made me lose my concentration. the barrier i had put up to keep myself invisible disappeared. this meant that, for the first time in his entire life, he could see me (though i wasn't aware at the time). and i stood there, struck dumb as the demon kicked the man to the ground, his wings spreading as he shot off into the sky towards the portal. the rest of the demons did the same as i watched him begin to bleed out. the seconds felt like centuries and, for a while, i felt like i was going to cry. the man that i had tried so hard to protect was going to die, and all those demons were going to get away with it. i was going to be forced to take his soul. it felt like i had been standing there, staring at him for eons, but, in reality, it had only been about five seconds before the rage hit me. the overwhelming rage. the very same rage that made lucifer himself shake in his boots.

a black fog covered my body and my fingers tightened on my scythes, my gaze turning up towards the demons who were still trying to flee to the portal. it looked like i was just a shadow, though my head had turned into something that looked like the shadow of a bull skull, but with teeth that looked like a saber tooth tiger. my eyes, however, were nothing but a pure white light. still, though, when one of the demons had looked down, this sight was enough to make him screech to the others. "go! quickly!" from my back sprouted wings, though... they weren't actually wings, and instead just the bones of what would be inside of wings. they, too, were made of the same black fog that covered my entire body; and they had a span of nearly fifty feet when fully outstretched. i could even fly with them, but i was too furious to. this was the kind of fury that even a murderous rampage could not quench.

so, instead of trying to go after them all, i simply threw one of my scythes a few feet away form me, having it stick into the ground. quickly after, i ripped it away from the ground, tearing a hole between the worlds. not even satan himself wanted to go to limbo, and, now, i was going to personally introduce all these demons to it. from the small rip i had made came hands, made of the same black fog that enveloped my body. the hands shot up, the fog covered in the facing of thousands of damned souls, crying for their loved ones, begging for death, pleading for mercy, wishing eternal damnation on others. the hands began grabbing the demons as they scrambled towards the portal. "where do you think you're going?" even my voice was different. my voice wasn't just a single voice anymore; it echoed and reverberated thousands of times over, sounding exactly like all of the souls that were trapped in limbo were speaking in unison. it had a terrifying array of chords and notes that it was hitting at the same time, making for a rather eerie and petrifying chorus of damnation. "you all. belong. to me." more hands shot out of the portal and my wings outstretched as the hands began covering the screaming demons, pulling them down towards earth. the crying souls on the outside of the hands began covering the demons as they were forced into the portal. the demons were already begging for mercy. hah. like i would give them any.

"please! no! we'd rather face the wrath of satan! we will repair the boy! we will never touch him again! don't make us go to limbo! we beg you!"

i laughed as they were dragged into my domain.

as the last of the demons were pulled through the earth, screaming, crying, and begging for his life, i grew tired. incredibly tired. both portals were closed and the black fog melted from my body, though the anger hadn't subsided. not fully. i found myself dropping my scythes and grabbing a fallen log, making my way to one of the demons who was still, miraculously alive. i then proceeded to beat him with the log, taking great joy in the amount of blood that was gushing from his body and the pained screams he was making. a few minutes had passed before i heard a weak voice and i growled, turning around to face the new voice. "make one more sound and i will tear off your jaw and shove it up your--" i paused when i noticed who the voice belonged to. oh. i frowned and tossed the log away, picking up my scythes and making them disappear. when i looked back at the man, he was staring directly at me. oh. fuck. for a few seconds, i found myself staring back at him, mimicking the way he was looking at me.

finally, i turned my anger towards him. i didn't mean to, but, y'know. it happens. "what the fuck?! why are they always trying to fucking kill you?! do you know how much time and effort i spend trying to keep your dumb ass alive?! you'd be fucking dead if it wasn't for me; do you even realize that?!"i must have forgotten that he was bleeding to death but... he was a ----. even with his current state, it would take him over an hour to actually die. i had time. time to bitch at him.

things always went wrong where ever day was.

perhaps it was just bad luck, but day could've sworn that he was cursed from the moment he was born. doom trailed his tail ever since he took his first breath in the hospital and brooded over his shoulder every day since then. maybe god hated him. maybe he wasn't meant to be alive in the first place. either way, he was. by some odd, miraculous turn of events, he somehow managed to still be alive. and by bad luck, it wasn't as if it were small things like getting gum stuck in his hair or stepping in dog shit at the park or something, day had consistently had near death experiences ever since he was young.

when he was two, his mother dropped him. twice. once into snow, and another time on the wooden floors of their family home. he could've died, but luckily, he didn't. he was four when he fell out of a tree and broke two ribs and his foot. surely, this was his own fault but still, how many kids had shitty luck and fell out of trees to break three things in their body? day was seven when he was nearly kidnapped by his neighbor on his walk home from school. he fell insanely ill when he was eight and that lasted until he was nine, none of his doctors really thought that he'd actually survive. ten through fourteen were his golden years, an era where day didn't almost die every year. it was also then that he ended up being picked on in school.

he wasn't a strong kid to begin with, especially not after fighting a life-threatening illness and for some reason, day still was graced with the fact that he was different. and that he'd never fit in. no matter how much he conformed or stayed quiet, he knew fully well that he wasn't normal. he was twelve when he accidentally killed his gym teacher in the locker room of his school. not on purpose, of course. day had only been singing, just a little bit. it was a clip of a song, and yet his gym teacher fell to the floor only moments after and that was that. it was ruled as a heart attack, but day knew better. it'd been his fault. he always knew something was wrong. if only his mother actually told him what he was before his old gym teacher had to die.

following that incident, his mother finally told day what was going on. he was a siren. like his mother, unlike his other siblings and his father. for some reason, his mother only managed to pass it down onto day, the youngest of the family, the black sheep. day never really fit in with his family either. either way, day figured that he wasn't meant to after he learnt the truth. he didn't sing after that (at least not while other people were around) and he couldn't go to the beach anymore in fear of randomly sprouting a tail in public as soon as he fully submerged himself in the water.

day was fifteen when he felt even more isolated. he fell sick once again and remained in the hospital for the rest of his high school years. doctors couldn't exactly pinpoint what was wrong with him, but day was definitely not okay. upon finally getting well enough to leave when he was eighteen, things seemed to go fine for a while. and now this.

this, being having to watch the heads of what seemed like demons magically being torn away from their bodies.

this, being stabbed in the chest with a sword by a demon.

so yes, day was very, extremely unlucky. and now, he was going to die for his shitty luck. ironically, after facing death so many times, day didn't really want to die yet. but fuck, he had a feeling that this was it. he blinked blearily as someone else appeared. he sent the rest of the demons scrambling, only for most of them to be swallowed into an abyss. and by then, day had to screw his eyes shut while the other beat the last demon with a log. right, well, now he was probably also going to bashed to death with the same log. day could help but stare at him, though. everything was strange, and all wrong. why did he randomly appear and, quite literally, kill everything? was day next? why did this shit storm have to happen to him.

he flinched as the other yelled at him, squeezing his exhausted eyes shut once more as he rolled the other way. he didn't want to be yelled at for the rest of the time that he had left. he was confused, and bleeding, and in utter, total pain. he didn't even know who the other was, or why he was here. all day knew was that he needed to die now, or not die at all. he didn't want to be stuck with this excruciating pain anymore. "just kill me already," he managed to sputter out, a bit of blood escaping the corner of his mouth. gross. "i'm supposed to, aren't i?"


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