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Thread: Walk Like an Kemetese (E)

  1. #211
    Super Senior Member Delphinus's Avatar
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    Tahira watched herself move towards the figures. She saw and felt herself moving from a distance. It was not the darkness so it was better. ∃∃again. She tried to touch one of the figures.
    Quote Originally Posted by Fenn
    You forgot your F in Modesty.

  2. #212
    Bad Enough Dude to Rescue the President Kodos's Avatar
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    The figure's skin wasn't skin.
    Wasn't skin at all.

    It was slimy. Something slimy. And it sloughed off as soon as Tahira touched it, the entire person's body falling apart and unleashing the swarm of insects that were within the entire time.

    Dark, swarming, things. They swarmed all over Tahira. Covered her from head to toe. She wanted to scream, but found she couldn't.

    The Roar. It was back. Here. Now. Come for her. Again. At last.

    The roar. It took her and killed her forever and ever and always.

    Or it would have. But then everything stopped.

    Because it was all a dream.

    None of it was real.

    Right?

    ***

    Tahira found herself on the lower deck of the ship. Somehow. And she was fine.
    Physically, at least.

    The door to the hold was right in front of her. Well, to the side. No sign of the others.

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  3. #213
    One Thousand Member Regantor's Avatar
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    "...Who... What... are you?... What did you mean, you are... 'the truth'?..." Some of the hydra personalities questioned. A handful collapsed during the effort, and another new handful was born from those that prevailed. The creature couldn't bring itself to consider any form of being any longer. There was no body, no mind, just a splintering mass of furiously self-destructive qualms. A neutron star formed of ideas in their rawest form. "...Soon?... What?..."

  4. #214
    Bad Enough Dude to Rescue the President Kodos's Avatar
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    T̛H̡̧̛̕E͢͟ ̵̷͠Í̛͘͟͠Ņ̧҉̕͜E̡V̡I̧̨͡T̡̡̀͢Ą͠͠͠B̶̵͞҉L҉̸̸̕͠E̸̷͜͜͢ .͟͞

    T͘͡H̴͏É͟͝ ̸̷̵C̸̕Y̨̢͞C̸̨͡͡͠L̕͘E̷̵̕͞͞ ̷̨͝C̢͝À̶̡̛͝N҉̴N̡҉̸́O̢͞T́͠͞ ̶̡B̶̶̡E̶̴͠ ̢͞͏̸͢B̢͟R̢̨̀ƠK̴̢̢E̢͜͠҉N̡̛͢.̸̴̧͟

    T̨̛͈̯̯H̷̡̛̳̱̳͖̭̪͓̠͘͜Í̸̖̝͎̪̲͓̻̺͖̬̝͢S̨̳͇̜͉̗̰̬̯̕ͅ ͏̧͙͔̱̳̀W҉̶̣̼̫̯̝͔̹͎͢͞I̶̲̰̣̗̜̼͙͉͖͟͡L̡̨̮̟̩͢Ļ͖͖̖̗̭͠͞͝ ̱̫̰̱̜̼̩̘̭͓ ̷̛̭͖̜̀͢͡Ṇ̵̖͈͖̟̺̖͍͖͈́͢È̜̳̠͔̘͇̩͇̟̀͘͜ͅV̨͓͎̫̣͖͇̞͕͘͢ͅ ̳̠Ȩ̀͏̧͓̺̪̜̱̖̠̖̺̙̭͇̘̟R͏̨̳̹̥̪̫͇̹͉͓̺͍̣̰̠͍̲̙̫ ̢̛̰͖̩̹̫̱̞̟̦̹̼̩̱̦͈͉͍͠͝ͅÉ̸͙̬̪̘̥̝͖̘̳̭̩̻̯̣͝N̛͔̰̭̻͚̦̳̝ ̯D̯̦͉̥̣̙̖̙͉͘


    ***

    Ismat found herself alone in a vast room. There were figures there with her, although she could not make them out.

    The room was large. It went on forever. She could see the figures. They were writing. Writing things, on the walls, and the floors, and the ceiling. She could see them, writing.
    Even though the room was forever.

    She could make out neither the people nor the writing. But she knew it was important. And she knew the words. She always knew the words. But she could never face them. The Truth. Could never face the Truth.

    And she was alone. Alone in the room, with the people. And It. It was with her. Always and forever.

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  5. #215
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    Ismat's mind still condensed, split, consumed itself, evolved. She had hands again now. Were they her hands?

    She gusted forward, ignorant of an ability to walk or the appendages involved. All was weightless. Without law.

    "Stop it." Her voice was clean-cut and fierce, through she did not remember exactly how she became angry and why. It was impossible to think. Everything presented itself in the wrong order. "Stop it. You assholes. Stop writing.... I'll... kill you...."

  6. #216
    For Sparta! zizi's Avatar
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    Ode came apart and together again and every bit of her screamed silence.

    "WHY?"

  7. #217
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    Î̷̸̛͂̄͆ͥ̇̓͊͌͘͠ ̷̧ͯ̋̒̈́́ͭͦ͆̀͜A̴̶̧ͯ̉̋ͫ̀̈́͊̐̌͑̊̈́̈́̕M͋ͦ̊̍̉̾̓͗̏̅̽̆̅ͣ̒̓ͯ͊͝ ̴́̕͜ ̡̛̿ͣ̄͐̌͆̋̇ͬ̊̆ͭ̚̕T͌̋ͤ̑̎͛̑̄͌̕͠͡Ḩ̸̷͂ͥ̐̂͒͆Ȇ̌ͭ̋̄̂̇̓̚̚ ̨̄̿͆͂ͥ͠͏ ͯͮ̔͑̂̊̐̇̒̚͝͏͘T̛ͥ̅͛̂̌ͫͫͤ͌̌ͫ͊́ͫ̂̈͌̅͘͝͠E̍̈͗ͪ̃͛͒̈̈̋͂̆̽ ̵̛̔̾ͫ̽ͥ͡R͗̔ͭ̓̐͑͑̽̀͜R̴̛͒͒́̇̓͊̄̒̆ͭ́̃̇͠O̐̓ͧͫͬͭ̿͊ͫ̀ͤͪ̆ ̷̴̛̛̎͐ͪ͜R̸ͥ̂ͥ͑ͤ́ͩ͊̋͗̓ͯ͐̌̌̑̚ ̶̨ͫ͋ͣͥ̇̿ͨ̌̃̈́́ͣͨ͒̒̃̚͢͡T̢͆͒̄̀͒̇̄ͦͥͥͣ͜͝H̃͛͋̉̓ͨ́͌̏̊ͨ̃̓ ̸̴̵̀A̢̢̍̒ͥ̄͋ͦ̏̈̌̒͢T̛̒ͧ̀̓̃̿҉̵́͜ ̶̡ͬͧ̀̽ͣ̇̑̏͒̿͂̀́͘Ŝ̸̡̑ͩ͛ͧ̆ͨ͑̉̀̆̾͘͢͡T̡̡͂ͩ̎̾̚͝Ã̇̽̄ͥͪ ̸̡̽ͤ̈́̍̌͛͐̌ͨ̉͐͜L̷̵̽ͭ̿ͣ̎ͬͮͥ̈͐̃̊͝Kͧ̍̽̓̓̀̒̆̈́͂̏̓̐ͨ̒͐͐̇̚ ̨̕͏̵S̸̡̾ͪ̑̈́̄̚ ̧ͦ̃ͩ̏͌ͧ̉͟͞Ţ̆ͩ̎͊͆̂͟͞H̢̢ͩ̓̒͌̌ͦͨ́͠҉Eͯ̾͑͋̍͂̾ͦ͛͒͒ͪ͐ͧ̇ͦ ̐҉̶͝ ̶̡͌ͪ̉͛͘E̅ͮͩ̋̊͗ͦ̍ͮͮ͢͞͠N̡̓̈́̐́͌ͯ͗ͫͧ̌̚̕Dͯͨ̓̽͗̆̅̅́̚ ̴͘͏̀ ̔̊͒ͮ̇̈́̅̀̚͜͠O̢ͧ͛̋̿͂̐̋̀ͯͫ̔́̂͒́F̾̋̏͒̾ͯ͒̎͜͠ ͛̐̅̈́̓͋̆ͮͧ̾̾ͪͦ̋̚͢͞Ḑ̊ͨ̾̃ͤ̏ͪͤͩ͋͒͂̾ͭͨ́̀͢A͋ͮͯ̊̑͛ͤͦ͐̆̋́ ̷̧̧̢̽͗̀Y̢̧̏̿̆ͣ͐̀͊ͩͭ҉͡S̵ͮ̓ͫ͗̏ͦ̑͒́̚҉̶
    I͘͠҉ ̸̵̨Ą͜͜͠M̢̡ ̛̀̕͟͠T̵̀͜H͏̡̨E̷͢ ̨̡͟͠͡Ş̛͠H̴͟͠A͝҉̶͞Ḑ͘Ớ́W̴̢̨͢ ̷̢T̸̴̀H̸̴̨̢͟A̶͢҉̵̨T̨̨͡҉ ̀̀͜L̴̵̨I҉͟͏F̨̨͘͟͞E͏҉͏ ̷̧̀̕C̀͜͡A̷͡S̨͏̧͞Ţ̛͜S҉́.͜
    Į̶̨͞ ̷A̴̵̶͜M̴̧̢ ̴̸̡͜T̶Ḩ̶̛͘͞E͜͝ ̕͟͢Ţ̧R̀Ú̶͢͜͢T͡͏́H̡̀.̢͢

    A̵̢̾́̈́̓̒ͮ͒̓̐̏ͨͭ̓̋ͣ́̀̀N̛̑̈͊ͧ̑̂͏D̛̑͌ͩ̌̋̅͋̿̒̍͛̎̑҉͟ ̶̸ͫ̎͒̐̀T̨͋̐͒̂͑ͨ͌͛̀͡͏̴̕H̢̿̔͛͋̔ͩ͐̇͘͞I͑̒ͪͬ͂̈́͋̐̐͋̏̈́͗̚̚ ̧ͫ̀̕͠S̢̡͗̈́̋ͤ́̽̿͐ͪ̉̉ͭ̽̽ͣ̚ ̌̓͗͒̊ͪͩ͐̋͌̓͛̅ͣ̈́͒͐̓̈̀͞W̧̃̆͑̿͆̒ͮ͋̽̎̉ͭ̄̔̏͑͏I̷͆͛̎͊̽́̕͢ ͏Ļ̓̉̊ͯ̃͠Lͮͯ͑͗̑̂ͤͤ͒̂̆̉͐̌̚͜͠ ̨̋͛̅̑̎͛͂̈́͐̃͐̆ͨͦ̑̿̒̒̽͏͘͏̛N̵̵ͬ̋ͯ͂ͤ͋̽̑͂̔ͣ̂ͮ̓̈́͊ͯ̉͞Ë́̈̂ ̷ͧ̓̍ͮ͂̊̉ͬ͑ͫͨ̓̅̂̃͊͏̀V͊ͣ̐̊̔͗̐͆̅͘͡E̴̢̢ͣ̀͛ͭ͑̊̒Rͥͪ̍ͭ̃͐͑ ̵̑ͩ͂̈͗̑ͯ̆ͮͫ ̨̡ͥ͑̾́̕̕E̷ͬ̉͒̎̓ͧ̀̒̔͒ͣ͊ͧͤͩ͘V̐̔̓̾ͤ̚͜͜͝E̅ͣͩͮ̃̏̅ͦ̎ͫ̈́́͝ R̸̵̡͊͊͆ͨ̓͋̿ͭ̔ͥ̆ͩ̾͛ͬ̇̚̕͝ ̢́̔͆̎̇̏̏̅̋̎͢͝͡Ê̶ͯ̒̂͌̇͒̔ͩ̒̀͒̆ͭͬͨ̆̄͆̀͟͡N̸̷͆ͩͥͧͯͤ̒̋ͥ ̡̡͝D̶̷̿͛ͫͤ͗͛̑̏̒̍̓̑̏ͯ̈́͛ͨͮ͝.̐ͥͣ̑ͥ̇̌ͥ̀͝͏̶̸̨


    There was laughter and then It came for her. The Roar. It tore Ode apart and killed her a thousand, thousand, times.

    L̡̔̂͛ͭͭͧ̊͆̎̿ͯ̾̌ͤ̋̇҉́͜O͛̿ͥͨͣͮ͘͏̛Ơ̧̿̋͊ͯ̒̿̌̈̑̑̈́̊̐́͞K ̐̋ͪ̃͂ͪ͠͞ ̵̢̧̧́̈͛͋̾ͤͫͮ͌͊͞A̴̽ͫ̿ͯ͒̓̓̍͋͋̒͛̚͝T̐̈́̓ͥͣ̈́͛̀͆ͭ͆ͦ̑͂̅ͥ̐̑ ̛̀ ̸͊ͧ͗͋̀̾̏̂͋ͤ͗͡M̨̨̛ͣ̔̒͋ͤ̆ͤ̕͜E̵ͫ͋͊͒̆͒̔̐̓͑̔ͥ̒͒̃

    ***

    Ode found herself in a vast and endless desert.

    There was no sun. No stars. Nothing. Just Ode and the desert. And It. Always and forever It was there with her.

    And this would never end.

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  8. #218
    For Sparta! zizi's Avatar
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    Ode ran forward, seeing no point but unwilling to just stand. She ran and ran and didn't move at all.

  9. #219
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    Do you like big boobs? Dragons? Ninja? Martial arts? Wizards? Then click here and make all your wildest dreams come true!!

  10. #220
    For Sparta! zizi's Avatar
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    Ode stared at Tahira, then moved fluidly and grabbed the girl bodily, hands stroking her face and hair. "But are you real?" Ode asked. "Which is the dream?"

    She dropped Tahira and paced around the room. Eventually she slowed, seeming calmer. She touched her fingers to her lips, eyes and forehead. "Who Knows," she mused, "now that She is dead?" She shuddered at her own question, then snapped her gaze to Tahira once more.

    "Did you get it?" she demanded, "The monolith?"

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