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Found 2 results

  1. Oh, how she cried. - = || ―━―━+━―━― || = - - = || ―━―━+━―━― || = - ~ Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. ( -Unknown ). A faint flick of a match against the candle wicker: bright, contained within the pitch black of dust and grimoires from centuries past. Plans continued, passed word of mouth between each being within that pit. Cascading down the vertical hall of void, came again the armored figure, piles and cases of bottles in hand every time; or, further... gifts, to add to her collection. Her favorite? The latter. Each time someone left, each time someone entered, always signaled by the creaking of the lift, threatening to snap under someone's weight some day. Some decades in the future, to some unlucky soul's fate. Ones of stone, of unpresence, stone or something higher to bow to. Someone inferior, gathering supplies: the occasional equal, one to spit insults across the aging hall. Another dead to add to the collection. Wandering the closed corridors, one were almost certain to find a corpse or two, a body or two, a skull, or a few. Most often, you'd find it was him, [REDACTED], with the cases in hand. Armor does screech so horridly with nothing to cover each joint and crease of it's form, doesn't it? And yet, it could be considered for someone to be within, maybe, if you considered them beings worth of philosophy, beings worth conversation, if they could be considered those such things at all. She had, once upon a time, long before she had been what she had now become. What is it she had become? Was she always this way? Who did she used to be? Who did I exist as, before this? Was I always something as wretched as this? Can it truly be called such a detestable thing? - = || ―━―━+━―━― || = - - = || ―━―━+━―━― || = - Who was to know? No one, no one that had seen her, after all. Not a living mortal soul had, not in years, nor in decades. After all, the thing that had once been a woman had long forgotten, if she'd used to have a name, it no longer belonged to her. Not anymore, nor was she longer worth such a title, no matter what it may have been. The screeches of a pained mind fell on ignorant ears. Ones that did not much mind her suffering, as they wallowed within their own. They grew more frequent, these flashes of thoughts. Things the former woman used to know, but no longer. People she used to know, places, seasons, colors, feelings. The sobbing rung so loud, akin one most horrid bell. Unable to shed tears, nor to tell if they were true ones. What were true tears? What were they for? Were hers real? Life remained scarce, in some place you could hardly call a residence. Yet, she stayed there. Most days, weeks, months, years, decades. Her dear friends, so long past her existence. She had seen one, recently. Apparently, unrecognizable from what she had once appeared as, whatever color, shape, frame that had been. How long had she been this way? How long, to go on like this? What was the original reason, anyway? Had there been one? Every night, every day, when the sun crossed the horizon. Every time, every singular time, did these cross her mind so many times over it made her ribs ache. Her innards, no longer there, churning in nausea; despite the long lost ability to so much as to have a glass of water. Tears of blackened ichor poured down her faceless visage, crying to the moon; for: one day, to know what she was to be. What she had been. What she was to become, or to cease being. Yet, on these worst of nights, where the former woman were so unsure, again came [REDACTED]. He too, so plagued by this: thought, he was a tool. She assured him, he were not, and neither were she. But what were the two of them then? People? Surely not. - = || ―━―━+━―━― || = - - = || ―━―━+━―━― || = - Wandering out into the depths of the night, did she cry out her lungs into the sky. They had been long lost. Her fingers scraped against the stone bridge, hoping for cold. She felt none. Crying out into the sky, hoping to swallow the wind, to feel the fog in her throat. There was a big gaping hole, that which marked her demise, from so long ago. Her whole being, through and throughout, presented itself before the moonlight, long before the sunlight was to come. Screaming to whatever may lay in the heavens above, shrieking, wailing, howling, bawling, for something, anything, to explain. Nothing answered. The disfigured, disgusting once-was woman laid on the moss-stricken bricks for quite some time. She could only weep, curling up with her arms wrapped about her legs. One long forgotten ballgown, so wrecked and torn, it could no longer be identified to nation. Her hair kept neat and tidy, even as ebony streaks decorated her cheeks, dissolving soon into the ground they landed upon as her bones faced the sky. A quiet maelstrom of thoughts ravaged her mind, not soon to be answered, nor to be lost.
  2. The Daunting Salmon did-mc, Deviantart Folklore tells of a once great ship, filled with the greatest crew, richest treasures and wisest men. A pirate ship even, raiding and pillaging any town they could came across to, old ruins were victim to this mighty ship as well, their treasures soon got taken when the ship was in sight. However, the story of this mighty ship didn’t last too long, as it mysteriously dissapeared in the horizon, never to be seen again. Very mysterious, isn’t it? It was a stormy night in a small fishers village, thunder rumbled down from the crying skies and the sea was in peril, when suddenly... CRASH! A loud crash of wood slamming against rock could be heard... even more mysterious was when the storm stopped soon after. Thus, the villagers decided to investigate the mysterious sound. Malthael, Deviantart. It was a ship, crashed against the rocks on the shoreline, seeminly in very bad shape; the wood was rotten, there were holes everywhere, the sails were missing... But what the villagers saw shocked them. On the side of the ship, barely visible but still readable read “The Daunting Salmon”. It was the ship that dissapeared many years ago! Out of natural curiosity, the villagers decided to investigate the ship further, stepping on its deck with loud, creaking steps. The ship itself was completely empty. No crew [Or what would remain of them], no journals, no nothing. Very spooky, when suddenly... the storm came back out of nowhere... and in the distance, a ship could be seen, floating a few feet above the water, transparent and with an eerie glow... Miarath, Deviantart Sooooo, you might be asking yourself “What the cluck.”. And yeah, I can see that. I made this ‘lore’, well... it’s not really lore... it’s more of a backstory for some sort of ghost ship that roams the seas. The ship and crew have mysteriously died ‘n’ the like, but the remainders, their souls, still roam the seas. This would just make some fun RP I think for a spooky ship that scares people, blah blah. tl;dr: Ship was rich, ship dissapeared, ship appeared again, nothing on it, spooky ship in the distance. Thank yous for reading!
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