Phio
New Member
Posts: 14
200x300 Avatar: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v726/Herochao/ketaon1_zpszayqlctz.png
OOC Name: SweetPea
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Post by Phio on Oct 15, 2013 2:28:16 GMT
Reward: 10 Rupees
Dreams of a dark future
Have a post where your character dreams of Termina being overran by dark faceless demons, the post must be four paragraphs long.
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Milrael Il'tak
Zora
Posts: 180
200x300 Avatar: http://i1364.photobucket.com/albums/r729/Linktwin95/Face%20Claim/Milrael/334f23b2-d232-4cba-84ed-76e44f53a6e8_zps9czvoki4.png
Application: http://sonata-of-awakening.proboards.com/thread/39/milrael-iltak
Inventory: http://sonata-of-awakening.proboards.com/thread/40/milraels-stuff?page=1&scrollTo=2100
Plotter: http://sonata-of-awakening.proboards.com/thread/1682/regionally-taversed-wip
OOC Name: Linktwin
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Post by Milrael Il'tak on Nov 1, 2013 0:06:33 GMT
It was a pleasant day for Milrael. He had a good jam session with the band, and even had enough time after the session to go around and swim. The water was the absolute perfect temperature, and the sun was high in the sky. He absolutely loved the day he was living, inside and out. He almost went out to Pinnacle Rock, but decided against it. The music he played was flowing through his veins, and was making him think of how wonderful it would be if every day could be like this. He wanted to infect the world with his sounds of music. Not only his, but the band's music. Together he felt like they could heal souls no matter how dark the times were. Assured that one day this may happen, Milrael swam back to Zora's Hall and to his room. The sun was setting and the stars reflected on the water's surface - one of Milrael's favorite sites. But what was eerie this particular night was that the moon was full, and for some reason Milrael thought a full moon was always something to be wary of.
Milrael climbed into his bed in his tranquil room. The water in the pools of his room trickled a little bit, creating a very comforting white noise for Milrael that helped him fall asleep. His subconscious world was always very strong, and very confusing. He lived by his dreams, and always made notice of any dream that he had. Sometimes they were omens, other times they were just pure nonsense. But here and there, he always found some kind of lesson to be found in the dream. Milrael lay his head on his pillow, and drifted slowly into the realm of his subconscious activity. Maybe it was because he was an artistic person that he always had such an active subconscious. But he was so ready to fall asleep because he was ready to see what his dreams would be. His dreams always helped him with his music. As he shifted his realities from conscious to subconscious, he braced himself for whatever he was going to see.
At first it was a pleasant occurrence. He was roaming Termina Field with all of his friends, even people he didn't know, of all the different races found in the world. They were either floating, walking, or flying. The sun was golden, and radiant light was shining through every possible break in the tree leaves, and covering any exposed areas. He felt warm, happy, and glad to be around these friendly beings. He got out his instrument and began to play, and play like he never had before. It was as if the Goddesses themselves had shone their presence, as the noises he heard were the most heavenly he had ever experienced. But as time went by and the elated party went on, the light diminished. The beautiful golden light became paler, and the shadows crept up and became stronger. The heavenly presence of the Goddesses had slipped away into space, and clouds moved in.
The clouds became darker, heavier, and lower. They nearly sunk so low that Woodfall was breaching them. He looked around and his friends were disappearing, and the warmth was declining. Milrael reached out for his friends, but they merely drifted away, and he was unable to keep them with him. The shadows from the trees grew just as dark as the clouds; everything nearly became black. The wind started blowing, and hail came down, destroying Milrael's instrument. The hail was almost like fire; it stung as it pelted Milrael. The wind blew so hard that Milrael could not walk against it. He turned around and tried to run, but it was as if his legs were permanently implanted in the ground. He could not breathe. Milrael rapidly looked around and around trying to figure out a solution to his problem, but to his demise, he saw the shadows of the trees actually take form. They were black, amorphous, and began protruding claws. So many monsters rose from the shadows, that they started encircling him.
Even the hail became larger. Every so often, a humongous chunk of ice would fall, and break apart to reveal a monster inside. Sometimes the ice was just a compact monster waiting to release itself to unleash its terror. The shadows took more forms, making them look hideous: twisted faces, rotten flesh, torn limbs, and horrible mutant creatures Milrael had never seen began crawling toward him. As he struggled to breathe, they only got closer, and closer, and closer. They grew taller, nearly as tall as the dead trees sprawling out into the sky. He tried to wake up, he desperately tried to become conscious again, but nothing was working. The darkness of his nightmare entrapped him. Milrael started yelling, yelling as loud as he could, but no sound was coming out. His panic only fed the monsters more. He tried to run again, but he quickly found he couldn't move. His legs were actually implanted in the ground, and poisonous vines were sprawling out of the ground, wrapping around him and tearing him with their prickly thorns. The monsters had a look of eerie delight on their faces, striking pure terror in Milrael. He finally gave up; he could stand it no longer.
The monsters threw themselves on top of him, clawing and biting him until he could take it no longer. They were suffocating him; they stuck their fungal claws through his stomach, stretched his arms until they broke apart, and some even stuck their teeth around his mouth, seemingly sucking his soul away from his being. Finally drained to the final point, he could stand it no longer. He felt himself give up through and through, and the vines released him. But instead of being free, Termina vanished. It was rising. Or... was it? No, it wasn't rising. Milrael fell through the surface of Termina, but wasn't falling through dirt; oh no, he was falling through dense space, full of raging storm clouds. He fell, faster, and faster, until wind was searing through his ears and the chill was freezing him to the bone. He was going even faster until -- BAM.
He woke up, looked around, and was drenched in sweat. He looked at his arms, his hands, and finally his legs. He hugged himself so tightly, just to make sure he was actually alive. "Was that... what was that? I hope to forces above that it wasn't an omen of anything to come..." [/justify]
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