The Last Room at Castle Black [PK]

[Moumins 378]

 

PREFACE

Spoiler

I have enjoyed every waking moment of playing Saoírse. I am incredibly thankful to those who’ve inspired me to make this post, and been a part of Saoírse’s life, good or bad.
Of course, a special mention to CelestialBleh, and Pallodium, who offered a great deal of advice in my first forum post!

  ≿————-　❈　————-≾

☼ O N E  M O R E  D E A D ☼

RADOMAVIC

A Jackalope’s End

⸙ THE HORNS THAT PIERCED ME⸙  

Eyes gloss over long, sprawling trees, stretching endlessly into a star-speckled void. A moment of silence felt like thousands. Shapes warped, and the blues of moonlight slowly shifted toward watercolour red. A butchered figure bleeds. The last moments of her breath fill the air with a groaned pain. Despite this, Saoírse’s face wrinkled into a smile, as she whispered quietly her final words. Each animal became terribly quiet in the audience of a dying hare.

“Jea held on too long, pour des souvenirs de Castle Black…”

A regret fills her tone. Finally, it was time The Antlered Hare retired.
Figures of burning, blurred horror surround her. They are in every way holy.
 

 

✶DES SOUVENIRS✶ Glimpses of a more peaceful time fill the last flickering projections of Jackalope’s retina. A castle that stood so far from mortal men, to the point it was shrouded in a darkness, not yet illuminated by their flame. A family, crowded around a dinner table, each figure seemed unconcerned. A Father shows Saoírse a balcony to paint on. Her siblings joyfully sing, under a now rotten windmill. A Mother talks for hours, over whatever it was that interested the currently dying woman. Afterall, this is what drove Jackalope to throw herself to The High Hells.

༒︎CRUSADES༒︎ Each one ticked after the last, like a metronome in the sheet music of a vampyr’s life. There was nothing more familiar than an unceremonial death. A crucifix had stood in Castle Black’s throne room for decades. Oftentimes, The Hare was driven to act in spite of those memories. Drawn to lash out against ‘Sunwalkers’. The great irony, in the end, were these final moments of her’s, cut short by a blunt, scraping axe of Dragomir’s. Hitting the earth with a heavy thud, and spraying a caustic, red rain- The last downpour she would ever experience.

꧁     A LIMITED JOURNAL     ꧂
✷⸺      ⸎      ⸺✷
Saoírse’s fragmented will
Torn from a journal, and delivered, are a series of entries. Each written by Jackalope, not intended to be viewed. The excerpts are only privy to the involved.
 

ANWEN

Spoiler

She never flinches. Her eyes are loving. Others have expressions of concern. Her laugh is the moon and I find myself waiting for its respite each day. I was wrong to bring her into this world. She will only know hardship. One day I won’t be there to watch her paint. she won’t rely on me. Worse yet, what if she is taken from me? My reason for life; my moon, my daughter. 

 

REN

Spoiler

I failed.  I was never able to find her. For years it was easier to deny the truth. Adelia was lying. Ren was hiding. In a matter of days, I'd find her. Before I did, I found him.  He saw himself a victim for slaughtering a girl. A girl begging for a cure, begging for mercy. I lost her once, by his hands, and again by the law’s. As guards dragged me from the culprit before I could make things right. 

 

FLORIAN

Spoiler

My father was a kind man. Though his mind is muddied. I remember his first gift: the balcony on which I painted our horizon. I remember meals together. I remember long days underground, by our windmill, discussing what could’ve been. These memories will continue to form in the days to come. We will talk again. He sent me a package of chocolates the other day. I believe he thinks of me still.

 

SYMPHORINE

Spoiler

There’s a rope slipping through my fingers. It does not  matter how tight I grasp. I play an act of desperate folly. My hands are burned, and our relationship is strained. I tell myself she is strong enough. I tell myself  that I can keep her around. She does not want my protection, a burden to her.  She is alone, and I must remain, where the others have not. I will be just a letter away.

 

LIN

Spoiler

I remember her presence, a strange lurking. Lin taught me how to survive where laymen wilted. It is a great irony that undeath found her. I saw a portrayal of ‘Jackalope’ in Elanil. It was duty that drove her. Without it she became aimless, a mere consequence of desperation. We are the same person. 

 

TANTULUS

Spoiler

I think I know what could have been. A VAMPYR, not lost in the past. I look at that man of oddities, seeming to manage a normal life. I know there was an alternative. Why did we not use his reason, wisdom, or tranquility? If only we had maybe VAMPYR could be proud of themselves. There will come a time where he appears again. I must wait to ask how he does it. We idolised strength, when we didn’t need it. 

 

ARIANNA

Spoiler

Does ‘The Princess’ care? She played the part of an aunt effectively. I worry she was forced to.  I saw Arianna smile just as many times as I saw her grimace with disgust. Abandoning me and Siru, just to align with the necrotic. Arianna, why did you never write? Arianna, where were you when things went wrong? Beyond my love for my aunt, the thing I remember most about her is a habitual absence. If she is out there, she does not want to be found. I’ve come to accept this, with time. It is for the best. Castle Black is our shared hell, and she is leaving behind the last fragments of it: us.  

 

HYACINTH

Spoiler

There were times where warning signs were presented. Moments where we could have stopped. Moments where we were begged to stop. I remember Hyacinth. If we had only listened. Maybe then Castle Black’s forlorn would not be counted so high. If we had only run early enough.

 

 

MALACHI

Spoiler

Nevermore. There is no greater example of failure that haunts my mind than that of Malachi. It was my duty to guide my little brother. I see, fatally late, how I did it. Were we so rabid with fear of extinction that we forgot to live? I took the one trait that made Malachi my brother, his kindness, and told him it was cardinal sin. Maybe, if he comes around, we can choose the flowers for his garden. They were never planted, after all. It may be too late. I’ve lost him to our family curse: hubris. 

 

THE DEAD

Spoiler

Swinging from rafters. Sewn into crucifixes. Sardonically decapitated are my kith. Small, or big, it did not matter; the bodies decorated our home nonetheless. Sunwalkers never care, so long as it is VAMPYR they slaughter. Shells of families hung for years; I was too late to visit before their limbs began to freeze, crack, and fall to the floor. So they cried, and I sculpted, out of my mountain of failures, a monument against the rising sun. It changed nothing. Still, The Sunwalkers brighten their world. Still, they cast our shadows away. 

 

VALERIUS

Spoiler

The dead should be buried. A stain spreads sick, festering across our resistance. My eyes will not close until I see The Contaminant suffocating on the soil of his homeland. He is the salt on our fields. He is an aberration, dishonouring our once wholesome name. Valerius is no VAMPYR. We will be free when the last homage to Murkwater becomes rusted in a metal coffin. 

 

JOROGUMO

Spoiler

The dead will be buried. A witch has promised me this. I am uneasy, a bile forms in my throat. Our friendship is a tentative thing. Our pact is born of passion. Our fates are certain. Jorogomo will be the last weaver to take a breath. The Spider will curl her legs, and fall onto her back only after she has rid our home of flies. I am sure of this. 

 

FAFNIR

Spoiler

I found myself at his doorstep, and I knew it meant I was a terrible mother. Anwen deserved a better parent. I was too selfish to give her up, to let go of the one person I feel comfortable around. My daughter is burdened by my own existence, it is a terrible thing. He is kind, deserving. That is in part what scared me so much. How a figure could so easily hate me, but did not. Anwen deserves someone like him. I can never give her what she deserves. I need my daughter, after all, what else am I but a mother, now that all else is gone?

 

SIRU
 

Spoiler

There is a great irony. For she never wanted to rule, yet found herself revered as queen, in place of an absent king. The days are long; I bite my nails; knowing she cannot keep it up alone. I should help my mother; I cannot lose her too. I failed the others. I cannot see her eyes, though I know them to be tired. Most of all, I miss our time; our time spent at tables with wine stains. There’s an idea. I’ll bring her a reisling tomorrow.

≿————-　❈　————-≾
THE LIGHT ARRIVED
THE HALLS BURNED
THE FAMILY FELL SILENT
I FINALLY FOLLOWED

 

 

 

 

[wytch 870]

The snow hadn't stopped falling for weeks, the frigid northern wind blew through the open windows, it's howl the only thing disturbing the otherwise silent manor in the north. Anwen had been waiting for months, sitting in her mothers warm room upon the table, staring out at the road that led to her home.

 

She was worried, but she'd been keeping herself busy with painting and other hobbies in her absence; surely she'd be back soon, right? She always came home, she always kept her promises to Anwen, she always made her smile. It was lonely, and she just wanted to see her mother smile again, and to talk about the snow, and go swimming.

 

The letter was delivered; and her world was shattered. A promise had been broken, and she didn't even know it. She didn't truly understand what it meant, this surely wasn't her mothers, right? In her childlike mind, she wasn't able to rationalize that this was something private, something that spelled her Mother's truest end.

 

And so she waited, for a return that would never come, in an ever-freezing North. Months turned to years, and there was still no sign of her. "Mama, I miss you..." she was alone, and didn't know how to handle such an idea. So she resolved to wait to see that smile again, not knowing, she herself would likely never smile again.

 

[FoogThe2stnd 323]

*Wip*

[lemonke 6014]

Spoiler

 

"Tragedy and shattered dreams are the very sustenance of the RADOMAVIC, their daily Bread and Water. Their Blood And Flesh."

---

 

Secreted in a cave, shrouded in darkness, lingered a mass of decay and bones; a necromancer wreathed in spiders and webs. A child of Despair, still lost in the manias of power, her clawed hands reached for her heart soon.

Feelings? What a crude and ugly concept for a Weaver. She understood them not, yet she could sense them lingering there—it was as though she could eat and taste, but never enjoy it—an eternal torture. And so, even here, she felt the loss of another friend. Someone she cared about, but couldn’t understand why. From her heart, torn by her claws, and dipped into the dirt of the soil.

"Oh, poor Jackalope. Lady of Dreams, Lady of Tragedy, Lady of Loss! What can I do with this accursed gift, this accursed life, to bring contempt? To stop loss?"

A terrible life it was. A gift to bring back the dead—to speak with them, and yet unable to do so. Unable to manipulate life to prevent people from disappearing from her. She, who was immortal, could not outlive the tragedy that this world would always bring. Death.

"Father, Mother, Pharamir, Higanbana, Shirunai, Arianna, Jack, Saoírse...

Where are you all? Why—why should I suffer? Why should I live?"

Her knees dragged across the ground, descending further into the darkness of the cave—like a once angel, a once leader, bidden and chained to fall from the skies. Behind her, a trail of tears, as soon as she began to weep like a child. Someone who had made many mistakes—an evil thing of regrets, not misunderstood, not good, not mistaken. Simply evil. Simply wicked—and she couldn’t do anything about it.

No less, upon reaching the end of the cave, she stared into the abyss. There was a reflection of something, and for a moment, she beheld a creature of evil, but a desperate one. She saw a woman hugged, loved, and cherished. She saw what she had not seen before. What she had lost—her life was one of misery, treated as a bastard since her birth, and yet—she had her brother, her friends, and the blood of honorable warriors within her veins.

Bloodied claws reached for that vision and then...

DRIP...

DRIP...

DRIP...

Nothing. It faded away as soon as a drop of blood painted the stony floor, waking her from that dream where all could return as it once was.

"Born to be the child of evil. Born to be a disgrace, so that shall I become.

Beacons of death, of chaos, and madness, but also..."

In her mind, a phrase, for no reason, lingered. The dead will be buried.

"I will carry dreams. I will carry ambitions—I, who cannot die, whom death prefers to take from those she admires. I will ensure all remain undying, their memories—that I shall carry."

She understood. She was to become the symbol of darkness that carries ambitions and dreams. She had understood her purpose finally—not to lead, but to carry. To bring a utopia, and then destroy what would remain of her gifts once everything was finished. Herself. Alas, while she knew what to do. She still could not understand why the world was against her. Why did those she cared for have to die? Why did she have to do it all alone.

"AHAHAHAH..."

"AHAHAHA..."

"HAAHAHAH!"

"ahahahah... KAKAKAK!"

---

Spoiler

 

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

As laughter rang from her accursed maw, growing large and distorted, a hand reached out—of green, of pale, of many. A figure familiar to her. A vision, reality? Dreams or nightmares. Unsure, but bloodied it was. Tarnished and ruined—and yet met with a friendly smile. Ready to assist the lost one who was Jorogumo.

"Ça va, mon amie?"

Joro’s eyes widened, and so she smiled as the same hand went to wipe away her tears, a reminder, that she is strong and must remain strong.

"Ah, it's you. Did you know that your language... sounds so... silly?"

A memento of her past, of the first time they met.

The voice’s expression frowned and then...

They laughed in the shadows. A shared laughter—a moment of happiness.

"AHAHAHA!"

 "ahahahah!"

 "ahahahah!"

 "AAHAHAH!!"

Only one laugh remained. Left alone in the shades of darkness.

"Ah... Ah... Eeh..."

Drip... Drip...

"Sayonara, Saoírse... RADOMAVIC. Jackalope, friend of mine… "

Quiet. It was over. Finally, all that gave her company were her tears for another friend lost. But this time, her tears carried an ambition that shall not be forgotten. She will remain strong.

 

Therein, the spider shall return, but for now—

 

Peace.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

[RatFromTheTrash 531]

4 hours ago, Moumins said:

 

ARIANNA

 

 

---

 

[!]

 

In some far and hidden land, a single candle lit.

 

Torn up shards met the flame, each engulfed in the heat.

 

She let that wick burn, a pool of wax left.

 

 

---

[Myrthe 273]

** To be written..**

 

Spoiler

I will make a proper respons to the note, though for now! Cool post :D.

 

[Celestial_Bleh 224]

21 hours ago, Moumins said:

TANTULUS

  Reveal hidden contents

I think I know what could have been. A VAMPYR, not lost in the past. I look at that man of oddities, seeming to manage a normal life. I know there was an alternative. Why did we not use his reason, wisdom, or tranquility? If only we had maybe VAMPYR could be proud of themselves. There will come a time where he appears again. I must wait to ask how he does it. We idolised strength, when we didn’t need it. 

 

“I’ll never taste the soup again.” How odd. There are many things his mind could of turned to. Should have turned to. The daring rescue, the terrifying rumors heard upon the roads, that grinning shadow he had yet to meet again. There he is; thinking about soup. 

 

It is odd. “Never.” It is an odd thing for someone long lived. One never grows used to it. For you settle into thinking that something will be ever. And then it becomes never. For all the magic and tricks and horrors in the world, there’ll never be the same soup. Never given by that goggled face. Never the same deeds. Never the same words. 

 

The parchment is folded. Tucked into a pocket. A thing to be treasured until the never takes it as well. The cobbled street stains red as wine splashes onto it. A drink never shared. 

Edited April 29, 2025 by Anonymous_Rando