Completed A Quiet Place Outside Bedlam [Lenz]

[Noaru]

e

At Dawn, A.V.

The Dust Bed on the 2nd of Spring, 514

Noaru levitates amidst the presence of the trees, overlooking a field of various colors: red, orange, yellow, pink and emerald green. He watches as the sun rises over the horizon, bathing what was once darkness with light. Noaru focuses on his incorporeal form, gracing it with purpose and his will. Once he was visible, Noaru’s soulmist blazes and flickers reminiscent of a great burning flame. He banishes the garbs of darkness he dons during the night in exchange for one that was pure white, glistening with the light of dawn.

Noaru allows his jet-black hair to fall upon his chest and beyond his shoulders, bestowing his eyes of alice-blue to the world. Noaru remains quiet: even with the complete materialization of his form and looks upon the world he continues to occupy after five millennia. A spring breeze brushes pass the trees, as he grins. Noaru was proud that he was able to make it this far: beyond the mountains, beyond the forests and beyond the darkness of his own mind and soul.


“Lhex, keeper of fate. I have done horrible deeds: sins and vices to be accounted for. Lhex, by what rectitude or lore was my form contrived? There are queries of course, innumerable, that still linger in morose. I cannot answer them, Lhex, with what I have now.”


Noaru watches the path that lead to the Dust Bed cemetery: where the dead were at rest. This place serves as his temporary home and shelter until he decides he has overstayed his welcome. Noaru levitates towards the field of flowers ahead of him—where various insects were. He levitates just inches above the flowers and was careful enough to avoid touching them as he went. When he reaches his destination, Noaru levitates near the entrance of the Dust Bed cemetery, waiting to see what fate had in store for him.

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[Lenz]

LENZ

2nd of Spring, 514 AV

It was an earnest day for the woman. She had prepared numerous speeches of which she would announce to a specific audience later in the day. For now, however, she merely busied herself with endless amounts of chores inside and around her temporary shelter.

A frown gradually formed upon her lips as concentration and focus played important roles in her diligent tasking. She had been cleaning up around the tent; rolling up the bedrolls, folding blankets and organizing her personal items to the far side of the tent. She had even conjured up the possibility of washing her dirty clothes.

Ipisol was out playing in the forest, her distance reachable by the sound of her voice. If she were to call, the child were to come running. Occasionally the woman could see her picking freshly grown flowers or playing around various trees. It made her feel happy to see someone else so happy.

Without much freedom, she continued to strive with her hygienic rituals. Although, she quickly grew bored. Her patience was at a high level. She was frustrated with everything she had to do. Being an adult sent her over the edge, as she struggled to keep her head above the icy cold water she found herself drowning in. At that particular moment, she felt a weight pulling her under again. She was involuntarily being sucked underneath the harsh waves of such a fatal substance.

“Breathe,” she cried, opening her eyes. She hadn’t realised she had closed them until the sunlight burned her pupils until they had fully dilated.

“You need to get out and doing something,” she said to herself, dropping a blanket from being folded. She decided she would take a break if not, stop cleaning altogether. She wanted more out of life than such habitual redundancy.

“Ipisol?” she called to the gleeful child. She slipped on her shoes before peering out of the tent’s window flap.

“Ipisol,” she tried again, panic quickly setting like a stone inside her stomach. She fumbled around until she had retrieved her coat and had shrouded her arms with the fabric. She emerged from the tent well dressed, but not well groomed.

A simple sigh sufficed as a sort of commemoration for her attempts at looking appealing. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Yes?”

The little girl’s voice startled the woman, almost sending her falling back into the tent she had come from. Her auburn hair was illuminating in straight locks of golden purity. Her eyes were as blue as the sea, their natural colour of content.

“I must be heading out for a while,” Lenz told her, leaning forward so that the two were eye level. “You hold down the fort while I’m gone, alright?”

Ipisol nodded, a smile forming at the edges of her mouth. “Alright,” she said before returning to her playful adventurousness.

With that, Lenz turned on her heel and headed toward town, her mind a bubbling pot of many spices. Some were hot and ready to boil through the bottom of the pot whereas others were mild and simmered neutrally in the middle.

Her mind was elsewhere, her physical body taking on the task of subconsciously walking to the proper destination the woman wished to find. She had made a plan earlier in the morning, somewhere before the birds sang to be exact, that she would say a greeting to her mother.

Lenz’s heart ached and contorted into abnormal shapes just thinking about speaking to her mother, for she had died many seasons ago. It made her feel like everything that had happened in her past was her fault. All the memories came stumbling back into her head like a raging storm of fright and fear.

She didn’t accept anything anymore, instead she simply endured it and moved on. This was a defensive strategy that was left to the hands of the most dangerous people, but was Lenz one of them?
Once she had lowered her head out from the clouds above, her eyes met an unholy sight. The cemetery and everything that lay in its territory made her stomach flare in uneasy ways. She felt her face heat up and her eyes smoulder. She despised visiting the dead and death in general.

Part of the woman was willing to leave right then and there, but another part of her insisted that she must do what she had plotted to do. She obligingly took a few more steps forward before bending down a few yards away from the first grave.

She tilted her head back, her crimson curls flowing down parallel to her spine. She closed her eyes, the green and brown flecks of her irises hidden for mere seconds before she began to whisper to herself a prayer or two.

“Mother, I hope you are safe. Mother, I hope you are happy. I am terribly sorry for what has become of you. You didn’t deserve to have the end you received. I wasn’t strong enough to save you, nor the others that demanded it. And for that, I apologise and vow to change my ways and become more self-sufficient. I vow to help anyone in need of aid at the cost of my life. I hope you perceive my visions the way I do.”

The woman took a breath and bowed her head forward before repeating, “Mother, I hope you are safe. Mother, I hope you are happy.”

And then she opened her eyes and said, “I love you so much.”

Her mouth was arid, devoid of any water. Her eyes were misty; the visions candidly displayed in front of her were blurs. She was about to let the waterfall that had been building up behind the blockade in her eyes release when she heard something from behind her.

Whirling around at incredible speed, she found nothing. The noise persisted, however, diverting her attentive stare into another direction. It was here that she saw a man.

Long, black hair cascaded down his back, framing a face of rigid edges. His eyes were like caves, mystery and potential misery lying inside them. He did not speak and he did not smile, but his eyes were locked onto hers.

The two looked at each other for quite some time before Lenz mustered up enough courage to speak one simple word, “Hello.”

OOC :

Sorry for both the delayed and terrible reply. I aim to do better next time. Meanwhile, let this adventure begin!

[Noaru]

e

The Dust Bed

“Your solemn welcome, I accept. However, fair soul, why do you carry a lonesome stare? ”

Noaru, his gaze was empty and cold—yet one could feel the genuine concern in his voice. He levitates lower to the ground to appear as though he was standing. Noaru’s soulmist flickers and sways like an open flame when he shifts his eyes to the left and witnesses the beauty surrounding a land suited for the dead or forsaken. Noaru knew that the living visited such places where the dead slept. He remembers what these places were called…graveyards.

Noaru felt the hidden purpose and beauty behind death, deceitful. He has watched a person die—the light of their eyes escapes them. The heart slows and the body begins to relax and the world, with things that once plagued their minds with worry, becoming less troubling within the quiet and calm hands of death. Noaru remembers the time when he was young and he witnessed a death. The beautiful white deer laid its body onto the ground, closed its eyes and did not open them again. The old white deer was his friend but whether or not the deer was fearless or truly trusted in him—Noaru did not know nor would he ever know.

Noaru places his attention on Len and abandons his thoughts, until later. He was curious, wondering why a young soul would come to visit a cemetery. The season was young, spring was here and many things were moving about in the world: yet she was here, paying a visit to the dead. Noaru could not feel any ill intent within Lenz, he could tell there was another purpose for her appearance; visiting the dead was one but the other remained unknown: a purpose that fate would show him…in time.


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[Lenz]

LENZ

2nd of Spring, 514 AV

It was an expected response the figure gave her. In all honestly, Lenz didn’t expect for him to give her any reply at all. She had that poor judgment on her part, feeling that all spirits couldn’t truly converse with her.

She assumed he was a spirit, or a ghost, however they liked being labelled, by the wavering essence that surrounded his body. He had transmuted his energy, or whatever he was made out of, so that he appeared to be standing on the ground now.

At first the woman didn’t feel comfortable in speaking to such a person. She had come here to speak to her mother, having been passed for a couple seasons now. She hadn’t anticipated meeting a spirit, one that happened to still be wandering around.

He must have regrets festering inside him, she thought, repulsing herself at the thought.

She pictured maggots swarming inside a corpse, his corpse as she looked into those cold, dead eyes of his. He appeared sinister, wary and even a little ravishing, beauty tying end to end in her mind.

She shook her head, trying to recall back to the question that had left the spirit’s mouth. The letters that rolled off his tongue were musical, melodical, even harmonious in rhythm to the heart he would still have had had he been alive still.

“I uh,” she stuttered, trying to think of the right words to say. What did you say to the undead? She had never before met someone of such racial distinctions. In fact, she began to doubt herself and her eyes.

Was she indeed looking at a ghost? Was she indeed speaking to someone who was indeed dead, or was she simply sleep walking? Was she too tired or too hungry or perhaps even dehydrated to make sense of the situation she had been placed into?

It was even a possibility that had crossed her brain to assume that this entire scenario was a simple dream turn nightmare that she was living, one of which she was unable to wake up from.

She pinched her arm, hoping to release herself from the dark arms of unconsciousness, but to no avail, she remained where she stood, facing to whom she was facing which happened to be a ghost, a man more or less.

“I am here mourning my dead mother,” she told him.

She was astonished by the beautiful word structure he had formed. She had suspected everyone in such a city as Sunberth to use slang. Much of the locals she had run into tend to use such language, especially at the taverns she had wandered aimlessly by.

She was about to ask the man what his reason for being in a such a place was, but thankfully stopped herself short of doing so. Why else would he be here? He was dead, and she was standing in the midst of a graveyard.

The two pieces clung together, forming the final product of the common sense puzzle inside her mind. Boy, was she acting rather dumbfounded and gullible today.

She didn’t know what to say, so for a few moments she let a disquieting aura shroud over her, covering her like a winter blanket, heavy. She began to sweat a little, her palms soon becoming clammy at the awkwardness.

Finally she mustered up the courage to formulate words in the dryness of her mouth. She spoke, “I apologise. I am not normally so… rude.”

How hard could this be? She was making simple conversation, and she tried her best to think of this man as a regular man.

She bit her lip and hastily added, “Why are you here?”

Stupid, stupid, she thought to herself, inwardly smacking her forehead with her palm.

[Noaru]

e

The Dust Bed

The living did pay their respects to the dead and honored their names for decades and the names of the dead were remembered with each generation—comforted by the voices and memories of their loved ones. A living soul carries the will of the departed, ensuring that the sacrifice his brethren made would not go in vain. Noaru was the exact opposite—he carried on the will of the living soul. He kept the legacy and name of his family, including all their suffering and memories. He existed this long by sheer force of will and by these memories of the past.


“Fair soul, this kind gesture to your mother is a kind gesture to all souls at rest here.”


Noaru levitates to the side to grant Lenz access to the cemetery. He was certain that this young lady had pure intentions and a kind heart, as he has seen no living soul enter here after his arrival. Noaru could not blame the living for not entering this land; forsaken and barren, it was obvious the caretaker here was neglectful in some aspects of his duties. Noaru banishes his mild frustration, preventing its appearance on the surface of his expression. The early day of spring was beautiful in every way and Noaru was not going to allow the carelessness of an undertaker to crush his happiness.


“I’am here, visiting those at rest during the early spring hour.”


Noaru did not find Lenz’s question to be offensive in any way. He had to admit that his appearance was different than the forms that ghosts would undertake and many would think he was a soul, visiting its own grave. Noaru could not imagine himself looking upon the visage of his own body—lying motionless on the cold earth. Noaru knew his existence was more than that of a simple ghost, he felt that he was something more profound than the soul of a deceased existence.

Noaru looks downwards and happens to notice a white flower near him. He instinctively extends a tendril of his soulmist to grasp ahold and lift the flower but notices something out of the ordinary. The white tendril he produced was incredibly fine and thin like a thread of silk; it was as though a spider had woven it. The strand of soulmist was strong, allowing him to lift the flower despite its size and translucent nature. Noaru could not see the threadlike soulmist of his creation and was certain no one else could perceive its form. However, Noaru quietly celebrates his discovery within his mind, as a flower levitates in front of him on an invisible thread.

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[Lenz]

LENZ

2nd of Spring, 514 AV

It wasn’t embarrassing to her to be stopped by something that wasn’t truly alive nor dead. It was more awkward and discomforting to her. She had many mixed feelings about what he must have been feeling right then and there.

Does he think of me as foolish? she thought, rambling through alternative opinions. Am I being rude to him asking such questions? Where did he come from and why am I in the thick of it? Why not someone else?

Her front teeth soon found her bottom lip and tugged, straining the chapped skin until pieces of it tore off in protest. She wasn’t one for conversation, let alone socializing with a spirit! Did it come so easy to anyone else?

Suddenly the man started to move, levitate more so. It frightened her to see the way his motions stirred up so much emotion in her heart and soul. Her stomach tumbled. She wasn’t sure what to think of all this, for she had never met a ghost, nor had she been told stories about them before.

She knew rumours, and they weren’t to be trusted, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly indifferent about this particular one. He wasn’t suspicious, nor ominous, but he certainly was intimidating.

His cold stare was sickening, stewing into her own hazel orbs. She tried to look away, but couldn’t help but feel her gaze falter and drift back to him. He was mesmerizing, and it was unjust to think that anyone could be repulsed by his presence.

“I am here, visiting those at rest during the early spring hour,” he said, his voice low, causing the woman to tremble in her feet with delight. Her heart turned cold, but her mind was set on fire. She was intrigued beyond belief and didn’t want to leave even if forced to.

Suddenly she found herself speaking, her own words light and airy, drifting out between her lips with mild ease. They were strained, forced or stuttered through her teeth. Her tongue played along, striking the letters as if they were strings to a mandolin.

“I wish they were visited more-“ she paused, trying to refrain from speaking in a rude manner- “I understand that some wish for their loved ones to move on with their life, but it’s always nice to visit once and a while to make sure they know that they aren’t forgotten.”

A flower, as white as the clouds on a mid-summer’s day, she saw. When he reached down to pick it up, it startled her right out of her skin. Could they do that? she was bewildered, having no previous knowledge of someone without a true body lifting something up.

She couldn’t hold in her excitement any longer as she blurted out, “You can do that?” A smile plowed through the frightened look that had lain before. Her face beamed with intense interest. She instantly wanted to know more.

“I know nothing about your kind-“ she hoped that didn’t sound rude either- “but I must admit that is amazing. How can you do that?”

She didn’t want to sound gullible, but in all honesty, she hadn’t a clue what was going on. She assumed ghosts had some powers of their own, fluttering about on a daily basis; however she didn’t know how long they could make themselves visible. She didn’t know that they could pick things up either. Didn’t it fall through their grasp?

She wished she was told stories about spirits when she was younger. The good kinds of truth and peace rather than of terrible rumours and violence, opinionated remarks made from the ones ruled by fear.

OOC :

I'm terrible sorry for the delay. Nine days? That's unacceptable. I promise I'll be more on top of things after this!

[Noaru]

e

The Dust Bed

“The living can sometimes forget and forsake the dead, for life and death are bitter foes.”


The living soul follows the cycle of life to continue the dreams and aspirations of the present until death calls them to their final destination. The true dead follow death throughout time, destiny and space—some leave the living for only a moment, and others choose an eternity. Noaru understood what Lenz meant; he was neither alive nor dead in a true sense but understood both aspects and knew the suffering that mortals underwent while in their presence.


“These graves are visited by those like me, you need not worry. I’m certain your concern for their company would make these souls proud.”


The first day of spring was meaningful after all. Noaru was able to meet a kind soul, who was concerned for the dead. He considers this a rare sight, knowing that most spiritists or mortals would rudely ask him to move on and reincarnate. Instead, Lenz communicated with him as though he was a normal person, her posture and spirit never faltering. Noaru felt he should reward her with the spiritual sense. He would need to spend time with Lenz, teaching her how to connect with the natural world and how to synchronize her body, mind and soul with the aspects of death.

That would require hours and days of meditation and possession—sessions most mortals would not undertake. Noaru’s fiery form sways in the direction of the spring wind, displaying an essence that seemed to originate from the very forces of nature that surrounded him. He extends the thread of soulmist holding the white flower and tries to give the severed piece of nature to Lenz.


“The grace surrounding a soul can be exceedingly powerful and hold powers, innumerable in number. Soulmist manipulation is one of many powers a ghost can display by manipulating a small portion of the essence surrounding their soul.”


Noaru when he looks upon Lenz’s happy expression remembers the time when he would display tricks for the children in his family; they would clap and laugh hysterically. He did not understand the concept of laughter or happiness back then and could not display emotion but he was able to tell that they were pleased by his actions and did not mind exhausting himself for the goodness of his family.


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[Lenz]

LENZ

2nd of Spring, 514 AV

She was enchanted, held captive by the words that flowed off his tongue. They were magnificent and majestic all at the same time. They sent shivers down her spine, yet wrapped her in a warm blanket and fostered her until she was brave enough to spread out her wings and take flight into the tremendous expanse of life that lay before her.

She sighed, but not in an impolite way. She was always polite, or at least tried to be. Sometimes the words that left her mouth were too truthful or rude as to set someone off. She couldn’t help but try to quell her powers of making enemies, but to no avail. They wouldn’t respect her wishes.

“It’s nice for those who are lucky; for those who have clear thoughts and pure minds, who aren’t drained by their innocence to such an extent as to be manipulated into creating last minute regrets.” She stopped short, realising what she was saying.

Had he any regrets? Is that why he was still drifting around, not pertaining to the category of living and dead? She felt great remorse for him, for she didn’t know how he felt if he felt anything at all. He was bound to know what had happened to him, yet some did not, and some probably would never know.

She was about to ask him if he did have any regrets, but she bit her tongue, holding back the words that threatened to ignite the fume of questions that were sure to tumble rampantly out from between her teeth.

She waited for the answers to her previous questions instead, receiving them with open palms. She smiled as knowledge filled her brain. It was wonderful! She was always craving to learn, feeding off of words and numbers and philosophical explanation over various topics. It was a great gift for her to embrace.

“The grace surrounding a soul… powers innumerable… Soulmist manipulation is one of many powers a ghost can display by manipulating a small portion of the essence surrounding their soul.”

She was enthralled if not a little taken aback. Soulmist projection? She couldn’t fully wrap her head around the term. She had never heard it before, so the only logical thing to assume would be that only ghosts possessed this power and no one else, for the words would have popped out to her before now.

“Soulmist,” she murmured, hearing the word come out of her own mouth. “Is there anything else you can do? Is there anything you know that I could do?”

Such a silly question she had asked just then. She wished she could grasp ahold of those words and shove them back into her mouth. Zip her lips or sew them shut as to prevent their meaning to exploit his ideas once more.

Instead, as to try and prevent him from dwelling on that question and that question alone, she posed another idea, and watched it linger in the air stagnantly.

“Why is it that you are the only ghost I’ve seen yet today? I’m in a cemetery. Isn’t there bound to be others?”

She meant no disrespect and hoped that none would be perceived by him like she thought would.

ooc :

Haha, no problem. Now we're even!

[Noaru]

e

The Dust Bed

“I possess powers, many of darkness and few of light. But, I’ am aware of the powers that slumber within you, fair soul. However, the names of said powers and what they manifest from remain beyond my ability of recognition.”


Noaru levitates into the cemetery and gestures with his hand for Lenz to follow. He believes his form was a distraction to Lenz, who had probably forgotten about visiting her mother’s grave. Noaru levitates closely to the ground, creating a kind of illusion that would have a person believe that he was actually sliding across the ground. He had long white wisps of soulmist trailing behind him, they were blazing and translucent, resembling spider silk that had been set ablaze but was not harmed by flames that lit them.


“How fortunate for you, fair soul—there are ghost here but they're at rest. In the world, there are entities that will not be as calm and placid as I’ am—they will use the powers of possession: to take ahold of your body and mind. I do not advise you come to these lands often, especially at dusk or during the night—unless you are confident in your strength.”


Noaru felt he should warn his company of the dangers that lingered in the spiritual side of the world. He could not have the good souls he met fall into the arms of evil and darkness. Those who have already given into the temptation of evil were not his concern. Noaru stops in the center of the cemetery and grins slightly. He was glad that the days in Sunberth had been peaceful. He was able to gain a substantial amount of power by lingering in the cemetery—where soulmist was plentiful. The plants and animals were at peace: a sign that the land was good. Although Noaru felt a peace, he could not help but feel he should avoid the city—a place of bedlam was what he avoided the most.

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[Lenz]

LENZ

2nd of Spring, 514 AV

Lenz was starting to tire, her eyes grew heavier as she listened to the spirits voice trailing over her eardrums. She was becoming easily fatigued over the span of the following chimes, waiting for something to happen, but when nothing came, she jolted awake, dejected at the sight of nothing to see.

Why wouldn’t he show her more of his magical powers? Were ghosts only allowed to portray their abilities in sporadic increments? She held many questions, but found that her tongue was held still, by the claws of feared rejection and humiliation.

Why did she not know about this kind of thing before? Why was she shunned from the world of the dead and undead? Did he even classify as dead seeing as how he was still hovering about in front of her?

Her mind spun with a multitude of questions, all of which she was frightened to ask. She didn’t know if she had already angered him as the conversation laid. She didn’t want to enrage something she could not fight, let alone wish to fight. She felt some sort of pity for his being. Did he loath being able to wander the world without being able to age or experience things as a living individual?

Before she knew it, she was apologising, although she knew not why. She was sorry for him and how he had turned out. If she were to die spontaneously, she would certainly not wish to hang around on the feelings of remorse and suddenty. She would want to pass on into the afterlife and feed her anger and sorrow to the goddess or death, if there was one.

And then the conversation continued on, in a way she couldn’t have predicted it would. The word cycled in her brain, hitting the lining of the inner walls and trying to puncture into her membranes. What was possession? Did he mean the word in a different way?

She tried to deduce the definition, finally being able to come up with a relative term for what he must have meant. Instead of holding superiority to all those around someone and claiming something as their own, the word was put into more literal use.

Possession as in the actual act of possessing someone, she thought to herself, shivering at the realisation. She definitely did not want to become possession by a wandering spirit.

Suddenly the clocks and gears in her mind clicked into place. Did that mean this spirit she was currently talking to could possess her as she stood? She took a few large steps backwards, instantly becoming fearful of all he could do.

She was strong, but only mentally. She tried her best to be emotionally and even so physically, but those sides of her mentality were much harder to control. Could she help herself when faced with more menacing individuals?

Instantly she felt the need to leave. A cold sensation rippled over her skin and elicited goose bumps to cover her flesh. She wanted to turn and run and leave this creature behind her. No wonder she had been kept from the truth. Fear grappled onto those she knew and restrained them from mentioning the spirits’ worth.

She knew not why they were intensely fearful as they were, although she assumed the basis. She herself was beginning to get the creeps, although she wasn’t one to judge upon first impressions. He was a nice ghost, one she thought she could come to in times of more supernatural needs. However, the thoughts of more malevolent spirits lingering in the world gave her the chills. They spread down her spine and tangled around her spinal cord.

She knew about ghosts now, that not all were bad, but only a small portion were good, or so she insinuated upon this conversation today. Although her feelings were mutual, her mind was reeling at the possibilities of becoming manipulated against her will by something that wasn’t even alive.

“I really must be going now,” she whispered, taking a few more steps backwards. She almost tripped over a headstone from her hasty movements.

“I’m sorry.”

ooc :

Sorry for the delay! Life has been rather hectic lately. Since I don’t see this thread going anywhere anytime soon, I was wondering if we could wrap it up somewhat? Unless you have a huge event up your sleeve, I think it would be alright to let this die down.