Post by opossum on Sept 24, 2013 12:07:15 GMT -8
Jobless, he sits in Leslie's old home, having said his good-mornings to the centaur. Flopped back into the nest of clothing and bedding he's amassed in the room he considers his little nest. Tired, resting, sooo much to do. Smiling he looks up towards the ceiling, the reminder of his rules scrawled in paint across the ceiling and walls. Mildly, a laugh parts his lips, before he closes his eyes and drifts into slumber.
Fire. The building is consumed by it. The Bell at the top of the building rings, a shadowy figure hunched over, monstrous and hairy tugs on it. It's eyes lit by the same fire that engulfs the building. A young boy stands out in the yard before the building, arms limp at his sides as he stares on in wonder and horror of what's been done.
Drawn to the brightness like a moth to the flame, the boy wanders forwards, a look of drunken curiosity strewn across his face. Short dark brown hair, a rather pointed nose. A a very ragamuffin appearance. Black and grey stripes across his upper half, a habit as old as he can remember. Stripes. The wood of the building crackles and drops, but the building does not collapse. The boy is alone, wandering in. The foyer, once dusty and creaky, a place where many a child met their happiest moment during the meeting of their new parents.
The bell continues to ring, even more-so. Fervently, horribly. It resounds with a pained, deep and mournful bong with every swing of it's body.
The floor lights up, bringing more and more light to the scene. The name 'Corey Oswald', written in bright glowing flames spreads like a signature across the floor. The boy stares, down, his face unchanging. The bell is ringing out of control. Faster, and louder it grows, the whole building quivers and shakes from it's powerful voice.
Moments pass and the fire continues to burn, but nothing is consumed. The bell swings back and forth, it's casing cracking and shredding loudly before it snaps it's hold. the bell-tower breaking roughly. It crumbled down, straight through the floor. The massive and frightening creature ringing it hops along it, gripping the bell as it plummets down. SMASH. The floor is crushed and made concave by the massive weight of the bell. The creature merely glaring at the boy with it's flame-filled and scrutinizing eyes.
It slowls stands, a long furless tail trailing about behind is, twitching and floating on the air as if part of the fire itself. It opens it's long pointed jaw, rows upon rows of shiny, white glinting teeth; razor sharp. The horrid maw forms a smile, and before long, the creature takes a step forwards. Again, and again, sitting in the fire before the boy before it leans down and whispers the word," Run boy.....run." with a calmed, fiery tone.
The boy's face grows to show nothing but fright, and turns about immediately running straight from the building. trailing his heels, with zero effort to keep up, the creature follows. Laughing and chasing with it's massive form on all fours. Into the darkness of the world outside the yard the boy heads. The Opossum sure to follow.
A sudden and sharp intake of breath hits Pyral, he sits up. Panting a bit for a few moments before he flops his head back down against his cushions. " Hate that dream." he lets out plainly," Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate....." His voice dying off before it leaves the room. Staring up at the ceiling some more, before finally dozing back off again once more...
Fire. The building is consumed by it. The Bell at the top of the building rings, a shadowy figure hunched over, monstrous and hairy tugs on it. It's eyes lit by the same fire that engulfs the building. A young boy stands out in the yard before the building, arms limp at his sides as he stares on in wonder and horror of what's been done.
Drawn to the brightness like a moth to the flame, the boy wanders forwards, a look of drunken curiosity strewn across his face. Short dark brown hair, a rather pointed nose. A a very ragamuffin appearance. Black and grey stripes across his upper half, a habit as old as he can remember. Stripes. The wood of the building crackles and drops, but the building does not collapse. The boy is alone, wandering in. The foyer, once dusty and creaky, a place where many a child met their happiest moment during the meeting of their new parents.
The bell continues to ring, even more-so. Fervently, horribly. It resounds with a pained, deep and mournful bong with every swing of it's body.
The floor lights up, bringing more and more light to the scene. The name 'Corey Oswald', written in bright glowing flames spreads like a signature across the floor. The boy stares, down, his face unchanging. The bell is ringing out of control. Faster, and louder it grows, the whole building quivers and shakes from it's powerful voice.
Moments pass and the fire continues to burn, but nothing is consumed. The bell swings back and forth, it's casing cracking and shredding loudly before it snaps it's hold. the bell-tower breaking roughly. It crumbled down, straight through the floor. The massive and frightening creature ringing it hops along it, gripping the bell as it plummets down. SMASH. The floor is crushed and made concave by the massive weight of the bell. The creature merely glaring at the boy with it's flame-filled and scrutinizing eyes.
It slowls stands, a long furless tail trailing about behind is, twitching and floating on the air as if part of the fire itself. It opens it's long pointed jaw, rows upon rows of shiny, white glinting teeth; razor sharp. The horrid maw forms a smile, and before long, the creature takes a step forwards. Again, and again, sitting in the fire before the boy before it leans down and whispers the word," Run boy.....run." with a calmed, fiery tone.
The boy's face grows to show nothing but fright, and turns about immediately running straight from the building. trailing his heels, with zero effort to keep up, the creature follows. Laughing and chasing with it's massive form on all fours. Into the darkness of the world outside the yard the boy heads. The Opossum sure to follow.
A sudden and sharp intake of breath hits Pyral, he sits up. Panting a bit for a few moments before he flops his head back down against his cushions. " Hate that dream." he lets out plainly," Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate....." His voice dying off before it leaves the room. Staring up at the ceiling some more, before finally dozing back off again once more...