When Fire Strikes (Closed)

[Gotten]

“IVAK!”

Gotten woke screaming the name, and passed out again as his eyes rolled back in his head.
It was the fact he’d been woken up that had him fighting back to surface his mind and wake up. Fire and heat were the first things he felt. Screams and sobs were the second thing he noted. Voices, all around, everywhere. Demanding help, someone injured, someone trapped. Even the rock seemed to be screaming as it was cracked, slammed, and melted. Grasping to thin straws of hope Gotten tried to sit up, but the roof had collapsed on him. Not the whole way, just bad enough to make him crawl on his hand and knees.

The small room had never seemed so long. With no way to tell time he crawled his way through the ruins, gathering up what he could, rope, a bow and some unbroken arrows, than leaving the rest for ruin, Gotten made his way to the door.

The scrape on his shoulder and chest were slowly seeping blood from the constant dragging of his body. And the doorway it’s self was blocked, the wall beside it was on the other hand blown out in the collapse, so he finally made it to the hall, where he could at least crawl over the stones that littered the way. Again the ceiling had dropped some, but not as far. Gotten tried not to think about the doorways he passed that were full of collapsed stone, and neither about those whom faint cries could be heard behind. Right than it was mandatory to get himself out to a place of safety, trying to save others was good, but when you couldn’t prove even you could get out……

Over and over Gotten’s mind tried to figure out what had happened, but he purposefully kept his mind away from the event, pouring all his focus instead into getting out of the state he was in first. The piercing scream, female had him lifting his head, and scrambling ahead towards it and hopefully freedom even faster.

The growing moisture told Gotten he was reaching whatever ruins the baths had become. But before he reached it the halls became an even greater mess than the ones he’d just left. Whole parts missing, dropped down deep dark holes in the mountain now, and even worse, some that showed lava deep down those drops. The rope scavenged from his snares in his hand Gotten leapt over a small dark pit, trying to now look down at the abyss that seemed to watch him. It was on his third jump that Gotten found someone.

She looked almost dead already, pale white skin, short hair. She rested on a small ledge and he looked carefully at his rope. It might haul this small thing up, be she’d have to stand up, and the ankle was even visible to him, it would hurt like hell. Taking a big breath Gotten swallowed it! Pressure like nothing he knew tried to flatten him. But he tried again. “WOMAN!” he bellowed. “WAKE UP!” Even if she came part way to the surface, the pain would quickly wake her. Gotten just knew they were running out of time, and that he only prayed stopping here wouldn’t rob him of what little was left.

[Krysanthe]

Broken Pieces Thud. Thud thud. Rumble. Swish. All around, Krysanthe could feel the world falling apart. With every warm breeze, there was a thunderous boom as rooms collapsed and volcanoes erupted. But there was something else. Something far more foreboding taking its place above her. Her eyes were closed and so she was unaware, but it was as if she could feel it. The raw magic that swirled just out of reach. of a barely breathing story. She tried to open her eyes again. For a moment, she wondered if she had slept into the evening, for she saw darkness. Soon she realized that this darkness was far less innocent, for it crept away to the corners of her eyes, hammering her body with waves of tingling numbness and dull yet exquisite pain. She closed her eyes tightly trying to banish this darkness, but it was stubborn and remained, however subdued, always in her line of sight. She felt like she was looking down a tunnel, unable to see anywhere but straight ahead. Feeling incredibly claustrophobic, she closed her eyes again, finding that it took great effort just to keep them open. Yet she couldn’t give up so easily. Boom. Rumble. Swish. Where there once was love, Her eyes flickered open once again, this time focusing directly on the object in her hand. That old journal was so filled with memories. There were many good and many terrible things associated with that little object, and through the pain that it left behind, there was a shining joy of the life that it had come from. There was so much about those many leather bound pages that she did not understand. There was so much that was gibberish. There was so much that flew past her like a leaf in the wind. Yet the few phrases that she could understand brought her such strength, for although the author was gone, through those few words, he lived on in her heart. now there's only me, It hit her again. That realization. The author was gone. First her family that she never met. Her friends she never had. The love that was snatched away. And now the world beneath her feet. All of it was leaving her behind in the dust. Everything was turning to hell. Everything was being destroyed. And there was nothing she could do about it. It was all spinning wildly out of control and she was directly in the middle of it all, unable to tell left from right and up from down. Crash. Swish. Silence. Breath. Focusing on nothing more but her breath to banish any ugly thoughts, Krys moved her eyes to the sky, attempting to find some sort of solace in the storm. Like the darkness that remained in her peripheral vision, the loneliness still remained lurking in the corners of her mind. Those thoughts were pushed back but not forgotten as Krys’s focus changed to what was happening to the sky. Surely she must be hallucinating. Or at least it must be a nightmare. Or perhaps a dream. Swish. Swoosh. Shh. Colors. Colors so alive and so wondrous that words could not describe the endless dance that they created above her. Yet there was something so dark about it. Something so sinister, so evil, that upon seeing it, every bone of her body shrieked to get away. Just as the birds cried to flee, so did her body. Something about the beauty of what was happening was far too dangerous to be messed with. But what could she do? She could hardly keep her eyes open for more than a few seconds. How would she get away from the raw magic that swirled and spun so close to her? and the lonely. She turned her head again to the book. For a moment, her lost love’s face shone clearly before her, as if he was kneeling at her side. His face was pure and white and gentle as it had once been. She saw his nose and his eyebrows and his sweet, soft lips. She saw his ears peeking out from beneath his windswept ebony hair. She saw those wonderful, lost, open, brilliant red eyes that looked upon her with such longing, such hope, such happiness that it made her smile yet broke her heart all at once. She could practically hear his voice. She could practically feel his touch. Maybe after this day they could be together again. Krys felt like they were so close now. Closer than they had ever been. Yet his voice from inside her imagination did not beckon her to him. It told her to get up. To get moving. To keep his memory alive. She knew that Erasmus wouldn’t want her to die here, like this. She still had so much to live for. She had so much to do. She had finally been moving on with her life. She had been making friends. She had been gaining skill. She couldn’t die here, now. Not like this. Never like this. Struggling, Krys slid her arms together. They were like snakes slithering through the debris as they struggled to make their way to her once again. With so much effort that she had to hold her breath, Krys got her arms beneath her and pushed up. It took all she had to get up to that position. She wasn’t really even sitting. Just elevated by two gelatinous arms. Her eyes were consumed by darkness again as the movement made her swell with vertigo. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes until the spinning went away. When she opened them, she was still looking down at her hands, where the journal remained clenched in her fist. She was moving on, but she still couldn’t let go. With teeth still tightly locked and breath coming in gasps, Krys craned her neck to get a better view of her surroundings. She didn’t recognize the courtyard anymore. Everything was fallen, broken, still breaking, or gone all together. It was so filled with destruction and sadness, that again she felt the impulse to let the darkness take her. How could anyone live with such sadness that this place so emanated? But there, in the distance. What was that? Maybe it wasn’t so far. Yet it seemed like miles. There was color. But not the unnatural brilliance of the sky. Normal color. Familiar color. Were there people over there? Yes! It must be! There, standing in the distance was some kind of embodiment of hope. Someone who might be able to help her. Someone who could get her out. She didn’t have the strength to stand on her own, let alone walk. This person, or people, she really couldn’t tell, must be a gift from whatever gods took pity on her, for without them, Krys felt she had no chance. She let out a cry for help, the hope practically glowing from her simple golden eyes. But that cry was cut short. Boom. Rumble. Shake. Swish. Krys felt the earth shake beneath her again, and her arms gave way. She fell to the ground again. Overwhelmed with despair, Krys finally understood. If whoever was over there came to help her, there was a good chance none of them would make it out of here alive. In the state that Krys was in, she could not move very quickly, and with the cloud of Djed directly above them, it would be almost foolish to come and assist her. If they even saw her. If they even heard her cry. I sing myself a quiet lullaby. Let you go and let the lonely in, to take my heart again. So this was it. This was the end. Krys closed her eyes and locked her jaw, pulling her knees in up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, both hands locking on to the leather cover of her last image of strength. Rumble. Swish. Silence. OOCI am so happy to see people posting again! I have kind of been waiting to see what will come of Krys, considering she really isn’t able to do much. But I figured everyone’s probably swamped, and believe me, I can respect that, so I thought I’d do a little post about her. That little post grew a little bigger than I expected. xD So yeah. I really REALLY don’t want her to die… So… Yeah… xD But hey! New people! Fun stuff. –Also! The lyrics in here are from ‘The Lonely’ by Christina Perri. That song was sort of an inspiration for the Krysanthe character, so yeah. Fun. Looking forward to what happens next!

[Arandolya]

Arandolya The only limit is the Stars . . . A small flame of red hair stirred midst the dust and debris. Two honey eyes groggily opened, blinking a few times before focusing. With a groan, she straightened, arms aching from when she fell after the ecstatic release of the god. Arandolya breathed slowly, thankful to be alive, though the structure still rumbled theateningly. She curled into a protective ball around Trith, who somehow had managed not to be crushed when Arandolya fell. Tears blurred her vision, and Arandolya's mouth slowly moved in silent prayers to any god who would listen long enough. The hood mockingbird trilled sharply, obviously wanting to be free from Arandolya's restraint. The Avora held on though, until Trith settled with an arrogant whistle. The walls continued to crumble, and to Arandolya's horror, little cracks appeared in the walls. "We have to get out of here," she whispered. Where to though? Where was safe? Was anyone else alive? The question rising, an answer from the mountain returned. In the form of a painful scream. The sound of agony and terror forced the Avora to look around, rising slowly. She started to step forwards, but the sound seemed to come from everywhere!! Tears leaked again, out of frustration she couldn't help. Arandolya didn't want to risk going anywhere in case she ended up in totally the wrong direction. As much as it horrified her, she had to wait for another scream, hoping this one was more tractable. It seemed that would not be needed though, as Trith angrily pecked at Arandolya's fingers, her call urgent. The mockingbird wriggled between her fingers, pecking and singing the entire time, her tone urgent. Releasing the bird, Arandolya regarded her curiously. "What is it?" she asked, a tad irritated out of the worry she had a rock would fall upon Trith, and she would then be left alone. Singing again, Trith flew off quickly. Arandolya stared after the bird, surprised she was desert her after so long. She frowned, shaking her head, about to return to the crashing wall when another noise filtered through the groans of the dying mountain. Trith's song. A particular one that Arandolya would recognize anywhere. She didn't leave . . . Hesitantly, Arandolya followed the noise, seeing Trith before she disappeared around another corner, her urgent song forcing Arandolya to follow. "Trith, where are you going?" she wondered aloud. This looked the way to the baths? The hood mockingbird flew ahead, dodging flying debris, leading Arandolya deeper into the mountain towards some unknown goal. The mountain continued its slow crackle around her, as she paused to trace a finger along a line that was not there before. The entire mountain will fall, she thought, horrified. The Avora hurried along, the corridor soon opening up to the baths. Alright, we're here, Trith seemed to decide, fluttering back to Arandolya. Outstretching her hand, the Inarta expected Trith to land, but Trith simply flew off again, this time scoping the area before going in a determined direction. Now what?! Sighing, Arandolya followed quickly, and gasped when Trith finally landed on her shoulder. A boy seemed to already be there, screaming at a women, the sound echoing obnoxiously. Scrambling to see what was wrong, Arandolya quickly found the reason for Trith's urgent song. A woman. She lay, pale, and almost . . . dead looking. A small rise of her chest betrayed life though, and Arandolya knelt down at the edge. She looked over at the boy, scanning him for wounds. "I'm Arandolya," she introduced quickly, then peered back at the broken woman. "Miss, can you hear us? Wake up!" Arandolya called urgently. She eyed the rope, hesitant. She wouldn't be able to do much, but perhaps, the need for survival would push her like it did to all of them. "Please, Priskil, let her wake," she prayed under her breath. Extending a hand, Trith hopped down, fluttered to the girl's shoulder. Then she sung. The mockingbird sung loudly. It was bright, and cheerful, one a bird might sing at the crack of dawn to greet the new day and new opportunities. A song to attempt new hope.

[Phoenix]

It seemed as if the entire city was crumbling around them from the top down. Time seemed to slow, taking its time as it meandered around the city while those within and among the madness suffered. Time was a cruel master, rarely showing any mercy.

The handful of Inartans that were unfortunate to be stuck outside saw this all first hand while their brethren were trapped behind the same walls that kept them out. For those who weren’t already in the Courtyard of the Sky, crumbling stone and falling boulders seemed to almost herd them that way; there was no choice but to stay ahead of the destruction and try to stay alive.

Tension was high among the group as they stumbled into the Courtyard in their pairs or solo. Various scrapes and bruises littered everyone’s flesh, blood darkening skin and staining clothing; no one was clean, dust from the breaking stone mixing with dirt that had settled over the years in secluded cracks and crevasse’s hung heavy in the air, clinging to sweat and blood alike.

In the very center of the Courtyard, where Krys lay unconscious, there was an area of ground that wasn’t cluttered with pieces of the broken city. This is where the group gathered, strangers coming together in this time of need, drawn to each other by the mere presence of another living, breathing creature in this time of chaos. They would have to stick together, work with each other and trust if they were going to survive.

With the wind nonexistent, the natural heat of the volcano was overbearing. As the aftershocks of the eruption started to subside the sky began to lessen it’s rain of stone. That eerie silence descended once more over the city; The only difference was the distant caw’s of the Wind Eagles could no longer be heard. What had happened to them? Were their Cities protectors forever gone?

And then it hit them.

Pain, pain like nothing that they had possibly experienced before. As one, the group fell to their knees with another united outcry; this one was of desperation rather than elation. It wasn’t a physical pain, however, but an emotional rampage that nearly tore their minds to shred. Ivak was free, but the joy of his escape had faded. Now, anger remained.

The emotional upheaval that grounded the survivors was different for each. The strong feelings they had been experiencing, whether it be fear, anger, confusion, or anxiety, was multiplied tenfold. Vaas roared with fury, forgetting the pains of his injury as he lunged the nearest companion. Gotten was overcome with a sadness that kept him on his knees, unable to stop the tears spilled from his eyes, the doubt and depression that crept into his mind. Arandolya found it hard to stand in one place, chittering nervously in Nari as the others raged around her, constantly glancing around as if something was about to leap from amongst the fallen stone and attack. She urged the others that they needed to run, to hide, to do anything but stay where they were.

Krys was the only one left unaffected. When Ivak threw the emotional upheaval at them, the young woman had lain unconscious, though that didn’t mean her body didn’t react to the Gods hand as it descended upon the group. The surge of power and the changes it wrought was like a bolt of pure energy lashing out, striking the Krys and bringing her back to full consciousness.

Able to think straight and correctly assess the situation, Krys was left trying to calm the group and get them under control, even though she had no idea where they had come from. A calmness surrounded her, removing any doubt or apprehension she might otherwise feel. She knew what they had to do.

When the group was sedated and ready to move, Krys led them through a small gap in the rubble, a path that lead straight towards the crafts gallery. Something told Krys that she would find them a way to safety there, out from beneath the open sky with it’s unnatural, swirling colors.