- Messages
- 1
TW: Imagery, Gore, Death, Abuse
It's quiet in the forest. Baron stands in front of Seraphim with an angry expression, but there is no yelling, only a simple request: "Turn around, child. You'll soon see there's a lot more to fear from me than some harsh words." Seraphim quivers, no longer himself. Instead, he feels like a child, back when he was Dinn. He couldn't protect himself or his brother then, and it seemed like the same would happen now. "Weeping Willow, come. Thy enemies shall know the clarity that comes with misery." Seraphim would begin to feel smaller and smaller, every word sending a chill through his spine. He managed to gain the courage to look up, and there stood Baron still creeping ever closer, a blade of absolute darkness in his hand. That wasn't there before, and Sera knew because he hadn't heard the screams of pain and sorrow before either. The aura around his teacher was not only depressing his spirits but literally pushing him to the ground, forcing him to bow before the absolute presence of Baron. "Close your eyes and imagine the happiest thing you can. It'll make recovery easier." Why would he...? What would that...? He still obeyed, desperate to ward off the worst of the affects of whatever his teacher held in his hand.
Inside his mind, he landed on the forest ground. An ethereal image of Max, the dog around camp, came to him. He smiled to himself, watching the little puppy play. He felt the weight of something dig into his back, but there was no pain, so he mostly ignored the feeling. It felt more like a tap, than anything so he looked around and was confused when he couldn't see anything. When he turned back to resume watching the dog play, the scene was different in the most horrible way possible. Max howled in pain as Seraphim continued to observe him, noting with terror that the dog's ears were nothing but bloody stumps, almost as if they had been pulled off. Suddenly, there was something soft and wet in his hand. They were some kind of felt or-...No, there was only one thing that they could be. Seraphim doubled over, retching for a second before revisiting his breakfast. He cried for a second, just breaking down in a puddle of his own bile. Suddenly, everything was quiet, and Max began whimpering a bit less. He heard the dog come padding over, and tried to look for him. Max found him first and stared at him, just a bit confused. Seraphim began retching again, this time exhaling a pile of phlegm since everything had already come out. The dog not only had no eyes, but every single one of it's claws was ripped out, making the puppy leave a trail of blood wherever it went.
"NO! NONONONONONO! PLEASE, BARON. JUST HELP ME! GET ME OUT AND I'LL LISTEN TO WHATEVER YOU SAY. DON'T PUT ME THROUGH ANY MORE, I BEG OF YOU! EVEN BEING YOUR SLAVE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE WOULD BE PLEASURABLE COMPARED TO THIS!" He'd scream, growing more and more panicked every second. For the second time today, he broke down, curling up into a ball. "I see you've learned your lesson. Remember this well, Seraphim. You are nothing but a tool, and tools are meant to serve without complaint." Seraphim couldn't find Baron's voice as he was forced to the floor, and realized it must be disembodied. The dog crept on top of him and died, it's skin becoming cold. The blood from it's eye sockets blocked his vision, and he blacked out as soon as there was nothing to view but red. Seraphim shot up and looked around, just relieved to no longer feel the pressure of his mentor. He sat there and cried for a second, memories of his childhood coming rushing back. The noise woke Jek up, because Jek came running to him, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. "That dream, huh?" Jek would say this with the utmost care, sounding as though he was focused on nothing else but his big brother.
Seraphim smiled despite his oppressive sadness, noting that even though he is the bigger sibling by age, his little brother always seemed a bit more happy and mature. "Yeah, Baron came back. I hate him, Jek. What he did to you still makes me rage even thinking about it." Jek suddenly stopped looking so caring and instead clenched his hand into a fist. "He never used the Weeping Willow on me. When I found out from you that he did, I couldn't control myself. I can only usually make constructs up to eight feet tall, but that day....I made a golem twenty four feet tall and crushed him where he slept." Seraphim gasped, unaware of this. He had known something had happened, but he never expected Jek to have killed...well, anyone. Still, though, with how dark his expression was, Sera could tell his little brother was one-hundred percent serious. "Thank you, bro. Those years were...well, the worst." He'd admit, looking out the window of the dorm and watching the sun rise. "Sera, Baron fucking deserved it anyway. He deserved to die more than anyone," Jek said, meaning every word. "You want to know why I have an easier time dealing with memories than you? I don't try to remember them at all. If anything, my happiness is a coping mechanism." The fire would disappear from his eyes, and he would extricate his arms from around Sera. "Fuck it. Let's get dressed and head to class."
Seraphim would climb out of bed, getting into his regular leather garb and brushing his teeth. He looked out the window one more time and decided a shower could wait. He had taken one before falling asleep anyway. Stumbling out the door, he fixed his hair with one hand and tried to look as presentable as possible entering class. He gripped his dagger tight, the hilt digging comfortably into his hand. Finally at the class he was scheduled for, he sat down next to someone random, nervously glancing over and trying to see if they would be up for conversation. With all of his heart, Seraphim hoped so. He needed some distraction from his latest nightmare, and making a friend couldn't hurt, yeah? "Hi. My name is Sera. New here. You are?" Seraphim would silently curse, realizing that his attempt at a friendly opener had come out much stiffer than intended. Still, there wasn't anything to do but wait for an answer.
It's quiet in the forest. Baron stands in front of Seraphim with an angry expression, but there is no yelling, only a simple request: "Turn around, child. You'll soon see there's a lot more to fear from me than some harsh words." Seraphim quivers, no longer himself. Instead, he feels like a child, back when he was Dinn. He couldn't protect himself or his brother then, and it seemed like the same would happen now. "Weeping Willow, come. Thy enemies shall know the clarity that comes with misery." Seraphim would begin to feel smaller and smaller, every word sending a chill through his spine. He managed to gain the courage to look up, and there stood Baron still creeping ever closer, a blade of absolute darkness in his hand. That wasn't there before, and Sera knew because he hadn't heard the screams of pain and sorrow before either. The aura around his teacher was not only depressing his spirits but literally pushing him to the ground, forcing him to bow before the absolute presence of Baron. "Close your eyes and imagine the happiest thing you can. It'll make recovery easier." Why would he...? What would that...? He still obeyed, desperate to ward off the worst of the affects of whatever his teacher held in his hand.
Inside his mind, he landed on the forest ground. An ethereal image of Max, the dog around camp, came to him. He smiled to himself, watching the little puppy play. He felt the weight of something dig into his back, but there was no pain, so he mostly ignored the feeling. It felt more like a tap, than anything so he looked around and was confused when he couldn't see anything. When he turned back to resume watching the dog play, the scene was different in the most horrible way possible. Max howled in pain as Seraphim continued to observe him, noting with terror that the dog's ears were nothing but bloody stumps, almost as if they had been pulled off. Suddenly, there was something soft and wet in his hand. They were some kind of felt or-...No, there was only one thing that they could be. Seraphim doubled over, retching for a second before revisiting his breakfast. He cried for a second, just breaking down in a puddle of his own bile. Suddenly, everything was quiet, and Max began whimpering a bit less. He heard the dog come padding over, and tried to look for him. Max found him first and stared at him, just a bit confused. Seraphim began retching again, this time exhaling a pile of phlegm since everything had already come out. The dog not only had no eyes, but every single one of it's claws was ripped out, making the puppy leave a trail of blood wherever it went.
"NO! NONONONONONO! PLEASE, BARON. JUST HELP ME! GET ME OUT AND I'LL LISTEN TO WHATEVER YOU SAY. DON'T PUT ME THROUGH ANY MORE, I BEG OF YOU! EVEN BEING YOUR SLAVE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE WOULD BE PLEASURABLE COMPARED TO THIS!" He'd scream, growing more and more panicked every second. For the second time today, he broke down, curling up into a ball. "I see you've learned your lesson. Remember this well, Seraphim. You are nothing but a tool, and tools are meant to serve without complaint." Seraphim couldn't find Baron's voice as he was forced to the floor, and realized it must be disembodied. The dog crept on top of him and died, it's skin becoming cold. The blood from it's eye sockets blocked his vision, and he blacked out as soon as there was nothing to view but red. Seraphim shot up and looked around, just relieved to no longer feel the pressure of his mentor. He sat there and cried for a second, memories of his childhood coming rushing back. The noise woke Jek up, because Jek came running to him, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. "That dream, huh?" Jek would say this with the utmost care, sounding as though he was focused on nothing else but his big brother.
Seraphim smiled despite his oppressive sadness, noting that even though he is the bigger sibling by age, his little brother always seemed a bit more happy and mature. "Yeah, Baron came back. I hate him, Jek. What he did to you still makes me rage even thinking about it." Jek suddenly stopped looking so caring and instead clenched his hand into a fist. "He never used the Weeping Willow on me. When I found out from you that he did, I couldn't control myself. I can only usually make constructs up to eight feet tall, but that day....I made a golem twenty four feet tall and crushed him where he slept." Seraphim gasped, unaware of this. He had known something had happened, but he never expected Jek to have killed...well, anyone. Still, though, with how dark his expression was, Sera could tell his little brother was one-hundred percent serious. "Thank you, bro. Those years were...well, the worst." He'd admit, looking out the window of the dorm and watching the sun rise. "Sera, Baron fucking deserved it anyway. He deserved to die more than anyone," Jek said, meaning every word. "You want to know why I have an easier time dealing with memories than you? I don't try to remember them at all. If anything, my happiness is a coping mechanism." The fire would disappear from his eyes, and he would extricate his arms from around Sera. "Fuck it. Let's get dressed and head to class."
Seraphim would climb out of bed, getting into his regular leather garb and brushing his teeth. He looked out the window one more time and decided a shower could wait. He had taken one before falling asleep anyway. Stumbling out the door, he fixed his hair with one hand and tried to look as presentable as possible entering class. He gripped his dagger tight, the hilt digging comfortably into his hand. Finally at the class he was scheduled for, he sat down next to someone random, nervously glancing over and trying to see if they would be up for conversation. With all of his heart, Seraphim hoped so. He needed some distraction from his latest nightmare, and making a friend couldn't hurt, yeah? "Hi. My name is Sera. New here. You are?" Seraphim would silently curse, realizing that his attempt at a friendly opener had come out much stiffer than intended. Still, there wasn't anything to do but wait for an answer.
