Jul. 15th, 2014

silvergift: art by <user name="liga-marta" site="deviantart.com"> ([002])
[personal profile] silvergift
[The locket is broadcasting.

A modest group traveling through a pass, snow covered and somewhat treacherous but none seem concerned. All but one of the group is armed, that person being herself, and each have supplies on their horses. The talk among them is light and cheerful, she can feel herself smiling, laughing even. It seems like a peaceful ride.

And then arrows fall on them and the horses rear back. She’s thrown from her horse and lands hard, silver hair blending with the snow. One member of her escort falls just head, blood already staining the snow while his horse bolts. Another manages to hold onto their horse but it bolts as well. And then suddenly there are orcs, rough swords drawn and one member of her escort dismounts and yanks her unceremoniously behind him before the others follow.

There are too many though and they’re yelling for her to run, strong elven steel singing against curved orc blades.]


My lady, run! Run!

[She has no skill in warfare, she has a Healers hand. She can feel her heart beating hard and fast against her chest, making it hard to breathe. But with battle around her and blood spilling everywhere, nowhere safe for her to even try to help, there’s little she can actually do.

And so she does as she’s told and runs. She’s light on her feet, boots barely seeming to touch to snow as she moves. Behind her the sound of battle can still be heard, the sound of elves and orcs dying but she keeps running until she feels an arrow slam into her back on her side. She falls, gasping, and suddenly realizes there’s nothing but silence around her.

There’s hardly any time for her to try to get up before there’s the sound of movement behind her, too loud to be elves, her escort. And then there are hands on her, rough and ungentle. She does all she can think to do and struggles, cursing at them in Sindarin as they drag her, drag her past the bodies of her escort and the orcs they had felled, the mountain stained red and black with their blood.

Everyone is dead and a look of dread passes her features: what hope does she have?

Her struggles intensify and then something hard comes down on the back of her head and everything goes dark.]


(ooc: Celebrían won't answer for a little while after. Likely after curling up against her mother)
teenyoda: (Look - Thinking 3)
[personal profile] teenyoda
[If Stiles had been asked which memory he would have thought would have been forcibly pulled from his brain and broadcast to the entire Drabwurld, he never would have thought it would have been the one chosen by the star. With how his life had been lately, he would have expected something along the lines of screaming and death and pain and blood. Hurt. He'd expected to hurt.

He did, but in a different sort of way.]
[The boy that came running down the stairs had to have been about six or seven, dark hair tufted and sticking up, pajamas emblazoned with iconic little Batman symbols as bare feet padded over carpeted floors, down a set of stairs and over to the large Christmas tree set up in the corner. There was no snow outside (duh, California), but there was fake snow sprayed all over the windows, snowflake decals added to give it a winter feel. There was a gasp, little hands moving up to cover a mouth open in an 'o' of surprised glee at the presents piled up under the tree. The boy went over, pulling one out and shaking it, then looking up the stairs with a sort of thoughtful look. Maybe he could open just one before...]

Put that down, Stiles. Let us at least get a little coffee in us first?

[His dad came down the stairs, flannel pj pants and a tshirt half covered by a robe. He was yawning and scratching at his belly as he shuffled towards the kitchen. A woman followed after, looking just as sleepy but giving him a fond smile as she came over, her robe closed as she went to sit on the couch.]

Oh, let him open just one. It'll help him take the edge off, right, baby?

[The woman smiled at the boy and the boy jumped up, coming over to throw small arms around her neck and give her an enthusiastic kiss. The woman laughed and ruffled his hair, pushing him back over to the tree.]

Go on, then. One to tide you over until your old, grumpy parents get some caffeine in them.

[His dad sighed and looked over at her, but he clearly wasn't actually all that put out.]

You know you spoil him.

He's a baby. He's supposed to be spoiled.

I am not. I'm almost seven. That's practically all grown up.

See, mom? Practically a man already.

[The man laughed and set up the coffee maker before coming over and sitting heavily in a chair.]

Well, go on, then. It's two against one. Majority rules.

[The boy grinned, coming over and giving his dad a thankful hug before he went over to the tree, picking out one of the medium packages because he wanted to build up anticipation for that big one in the corner.

There were flickers of how that morning continued; paper everywhere, ribbons tied in hair both long and short, happy smiles as socks were oohed and ahhed over, gifts made by small hands fussed over and elated squeals of glee over the large box, which turned out to be a Star Wars compilation present with Lego sets and a pair of light sabers that would be used the next day with Scott. They'd both be broken in four months. The image flickered and faded with the three of them on the couch, the boy sitting on the woman's lap, playing with a strand of hair as the man sat beside them, showing them something in a book he'd gotten from his wife.]

IN THE MORNING
[With eyes a little red, he addressed the network.]

So... guess there's nothing we can do to stop that, huh?

[What he really wanted to ask is if there was a way to save it.]
of_the_lake: (Default)
[personal profile] of_the_lake
A MEMORY
tl;dr memory. this involves blood, minor gore and violence, though not very detailed descriptions of them )

(OOC: This is just a memory of Berserker's--him fighting the red dragon that he accidentally unleashed from a cursed graveyard. In case anyone's familiar with this legend, this is right before his weird thing with Elaine.)
brainiest: (Default)
[personal profile] brainiest
(ooc: link to a video representation here! tw for torture/blood)

THE DREAM;
[ It starts of as nothing more than blackness and screaming, the sounds flickering desperately and the panicked breathing soon taking over. When Hermione remembers this moment it's the pain that surfaces first, then the panic, then the horror of her memories, but it takes so, so long for the memories to crawl out and be more than just echoed sounds.

Then there are visions, flashes of a face bearing into her own, whispering to her and a wand moving in front of her eyes, the sound of a curse echoing around her body as she screams with the pain, twitching. Her vision swims, now, from the agony, even as she lies through her teeth - and she is lying, desperately, not expecting to be believed but relishing the fact that even now, when she's on her back on a cold floor with a witch trying to Crucio her to death, she can protect her best friends.

It doesn't take long for the other woman to come back and take over Hermione's light of sight completely, leaning close and shouting in her face even as she tries to bite back desperate sobs. It's almost impossible, not with the ravaging pain that's taking over her, and it's not until the woman moves to the side and jerks forward, body twitching as she does something out of Hermione's vision but she still screams, body lurching and everything twisting as she tries to get away.

Everything is burning pain and agony and there's nothing she can do but breathe and try to keep going, despite her tears, desperate sobs that overtake the entire nightmare. The one word that echoes, over and over, is Mudblood; mudblood, mudblood, each hiss like a stab to her heart and another cut to her body.

Eventually, finally, the screaming is over, her voice is hoarse, and she's left just... Staring. Her gaze is a little fuzzy and distant, a little lost, and her hands twitch a little, her body readjusting to it's pain threshold being pushed too far, too fast, pulling all her energy out of her and leaving her worse for it. Eventually there are more whispered shouts behind her and a hand lifts, grabbing her, a knife pressed to her throat and her best friends in front of her, their lives on the line again and she'd failed --

and then she wakes up. ]
ADDED ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, text;
I don't suppose there's any way to get rid of this, is there? I'm sorry for anyone who had to see that. I'm truly sorry.
ringbeast: (CRY THO)
[personal profile] ringbeast
It was hard enough for him, knowing that his grandmother was aware that he would die in the absence of phantoms to eat... But when she offered herself up to be turned into one in order to ensure his ability to survive, it was even worse.

She knew she'd die. Haruto had given her the speech and everything. Gates turn into phantoms when they fall to despair. He had tried so hard to keep his secret from her, he'd known that she was just going to make things even harder... But he hadn't realized it would come to this. There she was... telling the phantom to kill her.

And then Shunpei was captured and held for ransom... With her as the payment. She wanted to go. She ordered him to take her. He'd never felt so miserable in his entire life. His chest hurt just thinking about it. She was always giving of herself to take care of him... And he'd only just realized.

In this memory, he stands in front of the door of the spare room in Remnants, knocks, and pushes it open, face drawn and serious.

"Kousuke..." She says.

"Gramma..." he answers. "Let's go back to Fukui right now, okay?"

"No, Kousuke!" she yells. He jumps, hands at his side like a child... Always like that with her.

She sighs. "How shameful... Yesterday, that's all I wanted to hear. But now, it's the last thing I want to hear!"

He turns, shouting back. "I finally figured it out! How you felt... You've been worried about me this whole time. I finally get it..." He feels his eyes filling with tears, his throat tightens. "But if I lost you now... I'd be the one to fall into despair."

She starts to cry, too. "You silly boy! I would despair if you sacrificed anyone else for my sake!"

"Gramma..." He sniffles back.

"You need to get ready, Kousuke!" She insists, shaking him. "You don't want to abandon Shunpei, either, do you?"

He shakes his head, tears beginning to fall, and then she offers something to him. He doesn't cry very often... He doesn't smile very often when he does. But seeing the origami lion she made him, the symbol of his identity as beast, he smiles even as the tears fall from his eyes.

"That's my gramma..." he whispers. "You saw right through me..."

She pats him gently, reminding him of all the times she took care of him over the years. And then the two of them come up with a plan, together.
fell_to_hell: (All the broken chords)
[personal profile] fell_to_hell
Lengthy and spoilers for House of Hades )

[For anybody trying to look for him in Caer Glaem, it's already too late. Nico is gone, along with his belongings and Clifford the Hellhound. Attempting to reach him by the locket will only get radio silence. While he might make a couple exceptions, it won't be to talk about this. Never this. He can't....]

{OOC: Dialogue and everything is from the House of Hades by Rick Riordan.}
thebreakingwave: (01 » dreaming)
[personal profile] thebreakingwave
Harry is ten years old and he's almost an adult. He knows this because next year he'll be going to a new school and he doesn't need to stand on a box to turn the range on. He can make all sorts of meals that he never eats for the Dursleys. Standing up on tip-toe, he reaches the gas knob and feels how the hem of his slacks rise up over his ankles and it makes him smile. His trousers (not really his, really Dudley's) are still too long for him, but he doesn't trip over them as much - not only is he almost an adult, but he can run better, faster, and further without tripping.

His stomach is empty and rumbles as he puts the beans and toast on. Stirring it, he debates whether or not he should be brave and take a few cool spoonfuls for himself before the others come to eat their tea. Normally, he might, but today he remembers the words of their new homeroom teacher. Her name is Miss Ferguson and she's round, jolly, and has chocolate brown hair that falls all over in big, swooping curls. He saw her outside, in a yellow raincoat and thought she looked like a beautiful lemon. (She's pregnant you see, with a bump in the middle.) She told the class that she's always there for them, to help them with school work, with their friendships, and their lives at home.

She lied to them all and smiled about it. It turns his stomach and he doesn't have the heart to steal any beans. All adults lie. He's almost an adult.
orcsurfing: (taking the hobbits where?)
[personal profile] orcsurfing
[ All around is white, snow whips across the picture along with long strands of pale golden hair. A pace or two away a couple figures stand huddled together, pressed against a wall of a mountain. Two tall men, four hobbits whose heads barely stand above the surface of the snow, A DWARF* that stands a little taller yet still, and a greying man dressed in greys in a pointed hat. The image, oddly enough, shows them from somehow above all. ]

If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you.

[ For some, perhaps a familiar voice, for others perhaps not. Light of heart and little troubled by the storm. The man in the pointed hat answers him. ]

If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us.

[ But no matter the wizard and elf exchanging jabs at each other, there are still Men with ideas here. One speaks: ]

Well, when heads are at a loss bodies must severe, as we say in my country. The strongest of us must seek a way. See! Though all is now snow-clad, our path, as we came up, turned about that shoulder or rock down yonder. It was there that the snow first began to burden us. If we could reach that point, maybe it would prove easier beyond. It is no more than a furlong off, I guess.

[ Another - the tallest - answers him: ]

Then let us force a path thither, you and I!

[ And for a moment there it seems that would be the end of the conversation, the camera - so to speak - follows the toiling men, the way they work through the snow with great trouble yet also with some success. Yet not before long, Legolas speaks up again, his voice rising easily in the noise of the snow storm. ]

The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow - an Elf!

[ With that said, he springs forth nimbly. The camera briefly showing his feet on the snow, sinking but only a little, leaving little imprints in the cover of snow. And he runs light and easy. ]

Farewell! I go to find the Sun!

[ He says with a last look to Gandalf first, then to the toiling men, Aragorn and Boromir. For them, he has a wave of a hand, before he speeds off. ]

( ooc; paraphrased book excerpt, sassing off to a maia, have at! visual aid, I mean what. *blanche is a loser kill me now I FORGOT GIMLI )
rube: (pic#7859563)
[personal profile] rube
SPOILERS FOR CARNIVALE, WARNINGS FOR MURDER )
ACTION.
[after the memory was broadcasted and ben found out about it, he chucked the locket out of his window as hard as humanly possible in a rage. and, of course, regrets the decision immediately. he mopes around in his room for a while in silent frustration before forcing himself to go out and look for it.

he can be found wandering around the castle near his window, looking around just about every bush and tree, refusing to ask for help from anyone. he convinces himself he doesn't need the help, mostly because he doesn't want to see anyone's face, not now, and not ever. he would be fine if he was suddenly kidnapped and plopped in the middle of the forest. he'd prefer it anywhere else.]


Dammit.

[he's too emotionally tired to care, and with conflicting emotions (mostly anger) interrupting his thoughts, he doesn't have the patience to look for his locket. he decides to take walk to blow off some steam and come back to look for his locket later.]


( ooc: icly, ben won't respond for a full 24 hours because he threw the locket out of his window and hates life 5eva. as a warning, he's going to come across as even more difficult and angry than he usually does, so don't take it personally! )
whereyouneedme: (pic#7926339)
[personal profile] whereyouneedme
cut for length and content (death, violence) )
 

[ voice ]

[ It hadn't taken Aveline long to see it, after long minutes of trying to remove it, something anything - one of her memories that had been taken and twisted, now up for all to see. She swears at the locket, throws the thing across her room once before picking it up... They had no right to her memories. None. ]
 

Son of a bitch -- 
marred: (Default)
[personal profile] marred
DREAM/MEMORY )

text
[ two hours later, luke will respond to any commentary he earns, but first he opts to press this into the hands of everyone an hour and fifteen minutes after the broadcast. the moment it happens, he knows — he's the kid of the guy who rules technology, after all. despite his own attempts to manipulate the video from sight, he can't quite erase it from the locket network. ]

I guess this is the time to make a confession.

I'm a big Wookie fan.


[ it's easier to be flippant about something he refuses to acknowledge, not even within the moment both annabeth and thalia had met may castellan with a fourteen year old luke. he misses his mom, but it's the shame of his own actions that has him acting as though he doesn't. ]


( ooc: may's vision dialogue was shamelessly borrowed from the last olympian. )
knightspirit: (sounds about right.)
[personal profile] knightspirit
cut for inazuma galaxy spoilers and length )

[ sometime later, Tsurugi appears on the network again, but his face is visible this time and is sporting a deep frown. ]

I take it there's no way to delete this. [ figures. ] ... Sorry about the disturbance. I'd appreciate if everyone just ignored that.

[ he is ... kind of mortified tbh, although he's doing his best not to let it show. ]