Closed Manny Can (Pandaemus)

[Meville Brightshade]

The twenty-first of Fall, 513 A.V.

Hidden away within the confines of one Lab 23B, Pandaemus prepared to begin once more preparing for the Judgement. The lab was, for the moment, unoccupied save for himself and the few animated experiments that tapped on the glass of their prisons. The slight clinking noise made for a semi-regular metronome, the perfect sort of background noise for progress. Progress however, would have to wait as the door was quickly slammed open, echoing slightly around the room.

In the doorway stood a young, fiery headed Intartian Nuit in a state of relative freshness. His icy blue eyes surveying the lab with disgust. An equally cold, calculated whine emerged from between the Nuit's lips, a slight frown at the corners of his mouth. "You are Thanadoros' apprentice?" His skinny, pale arms crossed across his chest as the Nuit continued, careful not to let any of his biting disapproval go unnoticed. "You look weak. Weak and pathetic." Rolling his eyes, the red-haired Nuit gave Pandaemus a small shrug. "Regardless, you're probably not stupid. Even mad, I can't imagine Thanadoros would put up with an idiot."

The Nuit's mouth curved into a smile that held about as much warmth as his undead body. "I have a job for you, Once-Apprentice of the Mad Thanadoros." He held up a hand, signaling he was not to be interrupted. "You're new here. Trust me when I say if a Master asks a Would Be Apprentice to do him a little favor, it's in your best interests to comply." With that, the hand was replaced by his side, and the nasal whine continued. "I need you to go out into the wood around the entrance to Sahova, you know them, I assume? Yes, well, it would seem my apprentice has taken it upon himself to get lost out there."

He rolled his eyes, muttering to himself. "If I'd have thought it would take him this many days to retrieve that blasted trinket..." Fixing his eyes once more upon Pandaemus, the Nuit continued in a louder voice, obviously meant for the one he was addressing. "Go find my apprentice and bring him and that blasted golem of his back here, do you understand?" He waited for a half-beat before continuing, "Good. Don't think there won't be a reward for this task. Incentive, you know." With that, he turned to leave, speaking his final words over his shoulder. "I'll be waiting for your return in Lab 34C. Try not to die." The words echoed slightly down the hallway as the door was shut behind him and his footsteps faded away.

With the strange Nuit gone, the small, glass encased experiments began their tapping anew, though it sounded slightly more subdued.

Common

[Pandaemus]

“You look weak. Weak and pathetic.” The nuit stated with all the air of a man making an obvious observation. Pan’s mouth dropped open, at a loss. Then the nuit mentioned Thanadoros. He had known his old master had once resided on the isle of the dead, but had not dreamt he would meet someone who had known the old kook. It was odd to see such a disdainful youth, usually that sort of bitterness and disregard came with age, and with these body-hopping undead, age was always an illusion.

The entire time the nuit master ranted on in his chilly tone he did not use Pan’s name once. Clearly he had only a passing awareness of Pan’s existence, which was ideal. Pandaemus stood up hesitantly as the nuit shifted the conversation, well the rant, to the subject of his own apprentice. Pan was trying to concentrate on the words instead of the spite infused tone they were projected with. The Sahovan nuit seemed to want Pandaemus to go into the woodland around the harbor and find his lost apprentice. The idea seemed entirely too dangerous for his expertise, or lack thereof. But before he could respond the nuit said with finality ”Try not to die.” and was gone from the Workshop.

The sudden return to quiet, spiced with the gentle tapping of the small alchemical atrocities behind him, struck a chill to his already cold bones. The quiet things were the only witness to his predicament. Pan stood and began to pace back and forth rapidly. After deep reflection on the situation he came to the conclusion that he was truly and undeniably petched!

This apprentice was lost, probably dead. Maybe even slain by something created here in the citadel. That particular thought brought Pandaemus’ mind into a macabre montage of horrors thought up by those with too much time and absolutely no humanity.

But…

He had mentioned some sort of reward. A reward from one of the Sahovan masters could only be good, right? And perhaps the apprentice would be dead and Pan could prove himself to the master, earning a place in his lab? The possibilities seemed to be opening up the more the young undead thought about it. Pan glanced over at the desk he had been working at. The bold built the world and the bland breathed their way through it. And he was done breathing.

He grabbed his staff with cold fingers and instantly the snake head began to sway slowly. It turned it’s ruby eyes on him in a primitive mimicry of life. Though without thought, he had always thought the thing represented all of Thanadoros’ spite and judgement. And now it was his to carry.

*****

As he left the citadel the chilling wind tried to engulf him violently in his own robe. The nighttime illuminators, the stars and Leth himself, were shrouded in a dark mass of cloud. It was as if not even Leth could bring himself to look upon Sahova tonight. Pan chuckled a rough roll of crackling noises as he couldn’t blame the god. Sahova sure wasn’t the ideal location if one was concerned with scenery.

He began to walk the path down to the woods, trying to come up with some logical way to search the woodland just up the beachhead from the orderly grey buildings of the harbor. He could make out a golem rolling it’s way down one of the streets between two lines of identical buildings far beneath him at the Harbor. Another gust of wind blew his hood suddenly up onto his head. The chaotic waving of the fabric masked any other noise besides the eerie howling of the wind.

Pandaemus glanced about as he approached the woods edge. There was no practical way he could scour these trees by himself. But he could just go back in the morning and tell the redheaded nuit that he could find no trace of the apprentice. But perhaps he would reap no reward if he took that lazy approach. He would have to put in the work to get his just reward today. Petch! I don;t even know his name! He cursed himself for his naive dumbfounded silence back when given the task. He would have to work his mind more quickly if he was to succeed here on Sahova.

With a feeling of dread, the nuit stepped into the dancing trees. The shadows and noises mocked him from all around. Branch and bark all seemed to the jumpy undead to be claws reaching for him or vile faces laughing at him. These woods must be cursed with the lurkings of dark things. But hey, what could they do to him? He was already dead.

[Meville Brightshade]

But what could they do, indeed.

The darkness of the night was ever more intense within the swaying boughs of the shaded forest. Small cracks could be heard in the distance as creatures roamed about in the inky blanket that surrounded them. The forest was alive, perhaps even more so in the night than in the day. To the left of his current course there were soft, frantic scratching noises. To the right, a low, husky snarl followed by several sopping squeeks before silence. Overhead, there were the customary childlike moans from the wyfrist, apparently content that no evils had been done thus far.

As his boots crunched down upon the natural debris of the forest, a strange howling echoed through the forest, silencing those sounds that had pervaded the space before. As the howl slowly faded, the noises of the forest did not rekindle. Even the wyfrist stopped its moaning, choosing instead to alight on a branch nearby the forest's intruder. Its glowing body partially illuminated the area, giving the trees and eerie pale glow that undulated with the creature's breathing. The beady eyes stared into the Nuit's, as the bird tilted its head to the side. Then, the howl resounded again, startling the wyfrist, sending it high into the sky with shouts of "Oh gods, please no!" and several dying screams.

Secret :

I'm not sure how much of a prompt you want, so if you want more, just let me know!

Common

[Pandaemus]

The bird had seem an oddly beautiful thing in this dark forest of half-hidden nightmares and shadowed mysteries. But then the eerie noises of the night scared even that small shred of beauty from his company. In particular a shockingly terrible scream made the thing take flight and made the nuit crouch down in fright. He had heard words. “Oh gods, please no!” The plead had come from further into the ebon forest than he had initially cared to travel.

Pan was frozen. Usually this type of terror made the heart’s pounding a resounding thing to assure one they were still breathing. But Pan was not breathing, he was not living. The undead wizard hid beside the nearest tree and gazed into the darkness from which the vehement vociferate sounded. His will was sludge, as his body was stone. He had not thought about what would happen if he found the apprentice in danger.

He had gone over the scenarios in his mind. If he found him dead, he would bring back some sort of proof. If he did not find him, he would simply return to the Nuit and tell him. But he had never even thought the man may be alive. Pan stood and carefully moved forward, into the night.

His staff, the wooden lance that was once his master’s, he held out in front of him. The serpentine animation was rudimentary. But the small ruby’s in the snake head’s eyes could see, and the head would look at any being it saw. At least for a few moments. He held it out in front of him precariously. Hopefully the thing would give him some hint of the dangers to come. The wooden head swayed and hissed silently.

The darkness of the night was thick and seemed to be squeezing in on the nuit. At any moment he could happen upon the corpse of a fresh kill, or the predator that killed it. The stillness of the night and of his heart did not reflect the trembling of his willpower, nor the quaking of his fear.

OOCThis was fine! I'm following your lead on this since you are playing the forest and I the unassuming victim!

[Meville Brightshade]

As the Nuit moved on, his hand clenched against the firm wood of the staff held out in front of him as if to ward off the unseen dangers lurking just out of sight, the screams had faded into a gentle tearing sound, similar to the ripping of fabric but with more substance. The trees creaked slightly as a soft breeze ran through them, carrying with it the scent of decay mixed with a hint of coppery blood. As it passed, the trees quieted, giving way to the rhythmic tearing noise as it began to grow louder and louder as Pandaemus steps brought him closer to the source.

Slowly, the sky's natural curtain that had been concealing the pale, milky light of Leth parted to inundate Pandaemus' surroundings in a silvery, ethereal glow. Before him there sat a figure cloaked in shadow as it was slightly larger than the average human even hunched over whatever lay in its lap. The creature was centered in a small clearing. The trees around it formed a circular window for the light of the moon to illuminate the surroundings more completely. There was blood everywhere, and though the hues of the gore were definitive, it seemed as though some of the blood had taken on the rusty hue often associated with time spent outside the body where it belonged.

The creature shifted, having still not noticed its newcomer, rocking back and fourth. "Ma Nee. Ma Nee Can Tabree Tha." The words were broken, halting, but carried with them an eerie lack of emotion. In fact, the intonation of the syllables was so foreign, it sounded synthetic, like the sounds of Common had been mashed together to form the words it was trying to say. A smaller cloud than its cousins drifted across Leth's face, temporarily pulling the scene back into darkness.

There was the sound of something falling to the ground, a wet thud followed by the creature's uncanny voice. "It Has Fah Len. Ma Nee. Ma Nee." The tempo of the words was entirely too consistent. Each gap between syllables was the exact same as the last, save for where there were obvious pauses that were twice as long as the usual.

When light once more filled the grove, there was a very distinct change: upon the ground a short distance from the creature was an arm. The race of such an appendage could only be guessed at as the majority of the flesh that was left of it lacked its usual coating of skin. It was bent in a fashion that suggested a break right in the middle, making it appear like the bend of an elbow. The fingers were mostly bone, as was the portion where the elbow would have been. It lay in a shallow pool of crimson, shining palely in the light of the moon.

Behind Pandaemus, several sticks snapped in quick succession as a creature of the night rushed on after some hapless prey. The noise was enough to grab the creature's attention. It moved in twiches, slowly shifting its way out of its hunched position into an inquisitive stance, allowing the light to further define its features.

The creature that now stood in the clearing was clearly a golem, though what sort was difficult to say. The golem's head was poorly carved with a face, an unseeing, disembodied eye sat precariously in one of the sockets, rolling around as the golem twitched from side to side to ascertain the source of the noise that had drawn its attention from the mess in its arms.

There, broken and entirely lifeless, lay the eviscerated figure of what had once been the red haired Nuit's apprentice. His head was still mostly intact, though it was missing an eye and the majority of its skin. As for the rest, it was so mangled and crushed, the apprentice appeared more like a head attached to a large chunk of meat rather than a body. The golem's wooden frame was coated in gore, most of it fresh but some, like what stained the rocks some distance to its left, was a rusty copper.

"You."

The golem had clearly noticed the other Nuit's presence.

"Ma Nee Bro Ken."

Note :

AHHHH. TOOK ME SO LONG I"M SO SORRY.

Common

-

Common

[Pandaemus]

Shock petrified the nuit. Undead legs could not move, no matter how much the nuit wanted to flee. He had been reborn into a corpse, and liked to think he was well accustomed to horror of such caliber. But this… was chilling in it’s preposterous gruesomeness.

The night whispered on and the smell of iron accosted his nose. Blood. Gore and bone were littering the fallen leaves around them, and the shell of this obviously malfunctioning golem. What had happened? Was this thing vindictive in nature or was this a case of a faulty directive. These were all thoughts that went through his head, chased away by the overriding terror of such sudden brutality.

Ma Nee, Ma Nee, Ma Nee…

Pan felt sick. His body held no means of being sick really, but is mind was shuddering and convulsing. Noises broke the silent behind him and he jumped. Pan fell backwards and slowly crawled on his rear until his back hit a nearby tree. How had the thing done this to what Pan could only assume was the apprentice. Did it have some sort of weapon? A claw, a sword?

That train of thought lead him to another realization. He had absolutely no means of protection. He had no mastery of personal magic to combat a carzed golem with, nor a weapon to defend himself with. His staff would be woefully inadequate in this situation.

The thing was looking at him now. Gore ran red across it’s body. The bloody remnants of the mangled corpse below it strewn over it like some macabre form of clothing. An eye glistened from it’s crudely carved face, the slime of it’s optic nerve hanging down like some sort of worm from beneath it.

People felt many types of terror in life. Some terrors cause racing hearts and flight, others cause paranoia, fear of the dark, or fear of the unknown. Pandaemus was accosted with the most heart wrenching fear he had ever known. If it had killed the apprentice, it would easily be able to kill him.

The night howled as Leth’s light fell upon the gruesome golem, throwing into sharp relief it’s silhouette, covered in the body parts of it’s former master. The face was banished to shadow, but Pan knew it was looking at him. When it spoke next, the words were broken, but Pan thought he heard common.

”Ma Nee Bro Ken.”

Broken? Was Manny the name of the apprentice? If so, he was indeed broken. Pandaemus opened his mouth but felt no words come out. Maybe if he didn’t say anything, if he didn’t admit it was happening, it might all disappear and he would be back at the edge of the woods. It didn’t happen, and the thing was still looking at him. He had come too far to die here. Too long had he been working towards Sahova. He had to find some way out. Could he run? No. He was not fast enough and the golem might attack if he fled. No, he had to find some other way to escape…

Pandaemus felt an idea forming in his head…

“Manny? Manny is broken?” He stood and held his hands out, a universal gesture of peace. The golem would probably not know it, but it made Pan feel better about what he was doing. “That’s too bad. Did you break Manny?”

[Meville Brightshade]

The moment the Nuit spoke, the golem's jerky twitches shifted into a fluid, straight backed salute of sorts. The arms still held what was left of Manny, but the rest of the automaton looked, for a moment, perfectly functional. The eye rolled slightly off center, appearing to gaze a few meters to the left of where Pandaemus was standing.

"Too Bad. I Broke Ma Nee."

The golem twitched again, its body slumping forward some, clutching the figure in its arms tighter with a horrendous squelching noise.

"Bro Ken. Ma Nee."

Jerking its head back up to face Pandaemus, the eye rolled back to where it had been, staring blindly into the face of Nuit.

"Did. Did You Break Ma Nee."

Once more, the body was brought closer to the golem's chest. Several bits and pieces oozed down along its abdomen while a steady dripping of blood trailed down its rudimentary fingers.

"Did You Break. Break. Did You."

The golem twitched forward, its legs creaking beneath its weight. The shadow of the wyfrist as it circled above the surreal scene danced about the golem, as if enticing it forward towards Pandaemus.

"You Broke. Broke Ma Nee."

The trees shook as the wind raced through them, shivering before its unseen strength. In the far distance there was the sound of a dying animal's last scream before it was over taken by its larger predator. In the clearing, there was only the labored sounds of the golem as it moved ever closer to the Nuit. Its heavy wooden steps crunching the few bones and sticks that lay strewn across its path.

"Fix Ma Nee. Fix. You Broke. You Fix. Fix."

Common

[Pandaemus]

The golem approached. It was hard to tell it’s intent behind the guise of entrails smeared across it’s horrid visage and the emotionless tone of it’s unnatural voice. Pan did not want to risk unforeseen hostility from the golem. His plan was quickly going stray from it’s ambitious roots. Quick adaptability was what he needed here. Or perhaps a master swordsman to spring from the dark forest and save him. Right, adaptability…

“Oh no I didn’t break Manny. But I might be able to… to fix him. You want me to help fix Manny? Manny and I, were both Fixers you see.” Pandaemus said, smiling at the golem. Again, the endearing mannerism was probably lost on the thing. It was not alive, at least in the sense he thought of life as. It’s sentience was crafted by a wizard, and only extends to the directives instilled within it. They were obviously faulty… But he would have to maneuver around that to survive this encounter. Perhaps ‘fixing’ Manny was his way of endearing himself to the golem.

“How about you bring him here and I’ll see what I can do? Will you help me fix Manny?” Pandaemus said, his voice calm. He spoke to the golem as someone would to a child. A child with a psychotic tendency to wear other’s skins as clothes.

The forest made it’s evil noises. But the nuit was more concerned with this faulty golem than any of the vile beasts or unsavory failed projects that roamed the island. He was sure that they would, at least, give him a quick death. The golem had clearly made the apprentice suffer.

Pan’s memory sparked as the golem approached. He remembered mention of the apprentice’s original purpose in coming out here. A trinket? Pan’s greed for power was fighting his fear of death. He found his eyes searching the mangled corpse for something…

“What’s your name? Did Manny give you one?” He asked the golem. He needed to keep it talking, computing. If it stopped computing what he said, it might start thinking about killing him. He did not want that. The night pressed in upon the macabre scene and Pan knew he was in for a long, stressful night.

He glanced up at the wyfrist longingly. If it found fear or horror in these woods it could fly away. He wished for that ability. To forget one’s trouble and abandon the dark ties that chain one to their life would be a magic he would trade for all his others. Such a gift was without price. Too bad the wyfrist probably had no idea of it’s wonderful gift. Caiyha certainly was a cruel jester… Perhaps as cruel as Uldr himself.

[Meville Brightshade]

"Help. Fix."

The golem seemed to hesitate for a moment, a truly unnerving moment of near-humanity in which it seemed uncertain. The mangled corpse was released slightly, allowing Pandaemus a clear image of the once Manny. What was left of the body were broken bones, smashed organs, and fecal matter smashed together into an elongated oval of sorts. Everywhichwhere bones stuck out like jagged teeth in the middle of devouring the meaty mass. The head dangled like a tassel, rocking back and fourth as the golem slowly extended the remains towards the Nuit. The sightless eye and gaping chasm where the other should have been both stared upwards, as if watching the soul that had once inhabited it drift off into the nether.

"Name: Man Can. Ver Shun: Al Fa Mark One."

The Nuit's question about Man-can's name seemed to have the same effect the initial noise that had drawn its attention had had. Though the corpse was still delicately held out for examination, the golem had fluidly shifted into its upright and proper position - its loose eye rolling frantically in the socket. Once the name had been delivered, the golem twitched back into its partially hunched posture, shifting its arms slightly. With the adjustment, the mass of flesh gave way to a slight glinting in the middle of the mess. It was about the size of a human child's fist, rounded, and a deep shade of red. Whatever material it was made of was reflective when hit with the moon's light.

Touching Manny :

Just thought I'd leave a note for you: If you plan on touching any part of Manny, the Man-can will attack by pulling the body in and trying to headbutt Pandaemus. I just wanted you to have this info in case you were thinking of doing something with the body, but not wanting to powerplay. This way, you can write in the initial attack for fluidity. :) Also, Man-can won't continue attacking you right away after the first attack unless you go for the body again.

Good writing so far! :D And a side-side note as a grader: "its" is the proper possessive. "it's" is just a conjunction. <3

Common

[Pandaemus]

As the night howled on, Pan felt the Autumn air a little more than he would normally. The danger of the forest was much more real now that he was thrown into it. Such precarious scenarios were not amongst the situations he had envisioned himself getting into when coming to the island. Safe rooms guarded by thick walls. And an enthralling schedule of magical study. That was the Sahova he had envisioned. But here he was, thrown into a dark forrest with an apparently murderous golem and only his wit to protect him. Pandaemus’ face contorted into a pained grimace. He could definitely due with honing his weapon’s edge if that was the case.

The nuit examines the body. A mass of mutilated flesh and innards lay between the golem’s deceivingly caring arms. Pan searched the remains, not for some miracle of mending them, but for some identifying mark. The body’s face was gone, se he could not show that to the Nuit Master. He would have to settle for the flayed head, disgusting and grisly though it-

A glint of moon light shone off of something within the mass. It made his train of thought stop suddenly. He had thought it was a bone, but no. Where bone shone ivory, it had been red. He searched the area with his eyes, through mangled organs and ripped flesh. Concentration pushed aside the fear and anxiety of the situation. There! He saw it again. Some sort of jewel perhaps? Whatever it was, it had to be the trinket the nuit had mentioned.

Perhaps his better judgement was besmirched by an ambitious curiosity, or perhaps he was just so overcome with greed for such things he did not think of any reprocussions, but Pandaemus reached for the trinket with a careful hand. He stared open mouthed at the thing, totally enthralled. The golem and the woods were temporarily forgotten in the light of this new development. His fingers inched through the air, ready to grasp it. The golem watched the ambitious nuit without any discernible reaction.

His fingers touched the surface of whatever it was. He attempted to grab it. An earth shattering pain erupted through his head. He was blind and his mind was utterly on fire. The nuit fell back and groaned. His body smashed against the ground, fallen leaves sticking to him or in his hair, or else flying into the air to fall gently to the ground. “Petch!” He moaned as he attempted to right himself.

The damn golem had head butted him! “Man Can! How am I supposed to fix your master if I can’t touch him, eh?” The frustration was thick like molasses in his voice, but golem’s could rarely pick up on such things. “You are going to have to let me touch him eventually.” At risk of angering the golem further he added. “I mean if you want me to fix Manny.” He hoped his reasonable tone was enough to dissuade the construct from further retaliation.

Pan began to focus on the task at hand again, slowly. The thing he had seen, where was it? Had he successfully grabbed it or was it lodged in the body still? Pandaemus frantically looked around the ground nearby. He checked the corpse quickly with a fervent glance as well, though more hesitantly than before if at all possible. Where was the damn thing?