The fire rages on through the night and into the next day, charring sections of the forest black. Just when one side seems all but put out, another dozen small fires mysteriously start in another corner of the forest.
There is seemingly no pattern, nor source; the fires start randomly as if from thin air, making it impossible to prevent them or make any gains. They steadily grow bigger, spreading slowly but surely towards the forest’s edge.
And you are caught on the wrong side, the fire separating you from the safety of the capitol.
No matter your reason for being in the forest, you are one of the unlucky few who find themselves trapped. All sorts of wildlife flee around you, running every which way in their attempt to find safety.
But the fire is everywhere, and you are running out of time. The flames are pressing in, threatening to swallow you whole, and there’s only so far you can retreat.
There is currently no time limit on this thread! One may be imposed down the road. Anyone who posts in this thread 4+ times before the deadline will be able to claim this thread as completed, and will receive an additional 250 signos.
This thread will be driven by YOU, so contact with other characters and NPCs will keep it moving smoothly! The topic: you're trapped in the fire! Please no valiant rescues right away! Please allow a minimum of 2 posts in between your own before replying again.
The RE account may pop in from time to time with short prompts to keep things moving, but otherwise this thread is what you make of it!
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08-19-2018, 04:07 PM - This post was last modified: 08-20-2018, 12:22 AM by inkbone
Pyxis had wandered, the small thing he was, only a year old, out of sight of many adults, and had found himself in the forest. It was a place of solace for an orphan like himself. Today had been like any other day, though he knew the fires were far from himself, he had smelled them, had sought a safe place. ...or thought he had.
Now the small boy was whinnying for his life, fleeing where fires ate up the grasses and trunks of trees behind him, where several fell and shattered. His eyes burned and his head was held low, scales dusted with soot as he coughed, his body heaving and his limbs attempting to keep him down.
"H-HELP!" He wasn't even sure if he could be heard over the snaps and crackling of the fires eating at the land, the way it devoured everything so. He wished or his father Orion, he wished for his father Rigel. One was buried, one was gone, and tears stung his eyes, clearing them of ash that got in them, and he felt the burning embers that touched his legs, sending him squealing forward several steps again, faster.
He would grow tired rapidly, and he knew it.
@ any! || please save him he's so tiny and caught in the fires. kept it short
Many years later Pavetta would wake abruptly in the night—remembering the taste of ash and soot on her tongue and the searing heat upon her skin.
She couldn’t see. The smoke was too thick, too dense—burning her eyes, searing her throat. Ashes and embers fell like an eery winter snow, leaving her silver skin singed. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. The panic built; a helpless numbness spreading in her veins. Helpless. The roar of the wind (or was it the roar of the flame) was like a hell beast that had crawled forth from the bowels of the earth—hungry, insatiable, and filled with rage. How could it sound so alive?
She didn’t know west from east, north from south. She could not see the sky—did not know whether it was day or night—so thick was the boiling black smoke rising high into the sky. She ran. What else was there to do? Away from the heat that drove the breath from her lungs, away from the flame she could see torching the trees and everything around her. But where to? Trapped. She wheeled about, searching desperately for an escape route but finding none. Only flame and smoke and ash. She screamed but no sound left her scorched throat—only a sob of despair. I am going to die she realized. The panic subsided—an icy calm taking its place.
She was about to close her eyes—knowing the superheated gas of the oncoming fire would kill her far before the actual flames would—when she saw it—a stag amid the smoke. Their gaze met and Pavetta recognized that same terrible knowledge of their doom in his black eyes—and then he was gone, bounding through the smoke. She followed without hesitation, adrenaline spiking in her veins and lighting a last desperate fire in her heart to survive. She raced through the trees, bloodying her knees and sides as she leapt from a steep ridge and fell to the bottom. She stumbled back on to her hooves, stunned and winded, pain in every nerve of her body, but she was alive. At some point, she thought she a cry for help on the wind but could not be sure.
Perhaps she was hearing her own screams.
a pearl in pigshit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse,
creature in whom nothing, but nothing, remains of an elven woman ---
08-27-2018, 03:15 PM
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Staff [PM] Posts: 309 — Threads: 165 Signos: 989,640
The fire rages on, caring little for who or what got into its way. All within its path it burns, engulfing trees whole and sending them crashing down to earth in a shower of sparks and embers. The air churns thick with smoke, shadows and light dancing side by side in the flames. The forest creatures are long gone, fled from their impending doom, and the lost equines are alone.
What remains of a tree crashes down in front of @pyxis, blocking his path - but as he turns away, he might see the squirrel dropping from the trees.
It lands nimbly a few feet away, seemingly unperturbed by the flames that seem so eager to engulf it. He cocks his head, looking upon the kirin curiously, clacking his teeth together in a noisy chatter. One moment of hesitation is all he takes - and then he bounds brazenly right up to the foal, clambering up his legs and seating himself upon Pyxis’ back. He’s there for but a second before he leaps back down, running a couple strides away - and then he stops. The squirrel turns over his shoulder back at the foal, lifting one paw in a strange, sweeping motion as if to say, ‘Follow me!’ Could this be the help Pyxis was looking for?
Meanwhile, the flames seem to engulf @Pavetta alive. They rise up all around her, flaring, reaching, seeking to take hold of her legs, her mane, her body, to pull her down and swallow her whole. That is until she bounds away from them nimbly as the stag she follows, denying their hold upon her flesh. At the bottom of the ridge she falls from, the world seems strangely calm - fire rages high above her head, but it has not yet touched the ground she now treads.
That is, until, the first squirrel appears. He’s as surprised to see Pavetta as she probably is to see him - and when Pavetta stumbles to her feet, he lets out a squeak of surprise -
- and fire ignites a ridge upon his back.
He leaps away into the forest, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. The dry underbrush roars into flames in an instant, wildfire spreading in the blink of an eye, and the squirrel is gone.
Pavetta is alone again.
Both @Pyxis and @Pavetta have been greeted by squirrels left in the forest! Both have been awarded 250 signos for encountering a Random Event - this has already been applied to your accounts.
Happy writing! -sid
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09-03-2018, 08:03 PM - This post was last modified: 09-06-2018, 09:35 PM by Random Events
Her sides heave--sweat lathered across her skin and dripping from her flanks. Alive. She cannot breathe enough air into her lungs. She trembles on her hooves, gasping for more air, more air, more air. Everything hurts from the leap from the ridge but she is alive. The stag is gone. Was she hallucinating? Perhaps from dehydration and exhaustion.
She blinks the sweat and tears from her eyes, desperately trying to gather her bearings. Lost.
She must keep moving, must survive. She can still hear the roar of the fire in the distance, the groan of trees and the sound of rocks exploding from the intense heat. For now she is safe, though.
Or so she thinks.
A squirrel is in her path. She stares at him, shocked there is another living creature in the vicinity. She thinks to ask him where to go, but then of course, she is delirious and is in no state to realize asking squirrels for directions is ridiculous.
The squirrel burst into flames, literally. Pavetta recoiled in shock, disgust, and disbelief at the sudden realization that this wasn't a naturally occuring fire from a lightning strike. This is the gods doing...a fucking game...
How could she have expected anything to be different than the Rift? She feels more at home than ever before knowing that the odds are against her, just as life in the Rift. She is an excellent player and if they want a game, she is going to play. If she can't win, then she will damn well at least score some points.
She runs. The forest is ablaze around her once more from the squirrel's suicidal dash. She wonders idly if the stag made it out or if it too was now condemned to death once more. The forest is a blur as she leaps downfall and ducks under limbs. A rock wall was ahead--a dead end. Or was it? She could see an opening...a gaping hole in the face of the cliff.
The ash is on her tongue, the heat on her skin. Pain. The smell of her own seared hair fills her nose. I am burning she realizes in horror.
Just when she feels the heat about to overtake her once more, she throws herself through the cave entrance. The heat whooshes in behind her in a roaring inferno and it reaches greedily towards her but she slips through its fingers once more. She collapses at the back of the cave, shaking and trembling, lungs rasping in a desperate plea for clean air. Her breathing is shallow and wretched and the burns from the heat are blistered and raw.
Still alive, she thinks as she passes out from smoke inhalation, a smirk on her lips.
a pearl in pigshit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse,
creature in whom nothing, but nothing, remains of an elven woman ---
This place was some sort of bullshit. She had wandered into the wrong land at precisely the wrong time. She should have stayed at Rift…in Neverland. It was safe there. She had no enemies and most people left her alone. She didn’t have to deal with fire or smoke. Her lungs never burned as badly as they did now. Her vision was never this unpredictable. If she were honest with herself, she was scared. However, that was an emotion that Sloane refused to show. She refused to play into the weakness of emotions. Instead…she kept moving.
As she meandered the forest, trying to find her way to cleaner air, she could hear the crackling of branches as the fire consumed them. She could hear the cries of the fauna as they cried into their deaths. She could almost hear the please of a young soul, but surely it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She was in this forest alone and there wasn’t a single soul that was here to help her find some sort of safety.
That is until someone practically falls out of the sky, landing just a few paces in front of her. Eyes look upward, searching for where this stranger had come from. She can barely make out a ridge and she deduces that this mare had come from there. She makes no motion to say hello just yet. The female seems confused, perhaps she was just as confused as Sloane was.
But there is something else that catches her attention, something that normally wouldn’t. There’s a squirrel that seems to appear out of nowhere. Sloane hated those little beasts. They got up under one’s hooves and were just little nuisances as they threw acorns from the trees that seemed to always land dead center in Sloane’s forehead. It was a miracle the mare didn’t suffer any sort of brain damage. Something was different about this little pest, though. It made this ungodly noise that made her neck arch. She watched as a fire seemed to ignite along the squirrel’s back. Sloane is quiet as she watches the little thing scurry off, leaving a trail of embers that was slowly roaring to life. Was this the cause of the fires? Now she needed to follow it so she could kill the little bastard. It was ruining her day.
Slowly, she steps forward now, clearing her throat to announce her presence as well as try to breathe. She comes to a halt a little closer to the strange mare but she doesn’t get so close to impede on either one of their personal spaces. Then again, Sloane didn’t like to be close to anyone anyway…regardless if she even cared about their personal space. “Are those things responsible for this? Because...” She paused for a moment. “…they are truly ruining my day.” it didn’t matter that they might be ruining her day. It didn’t matter that they might be destroying someone’s home…her home. None of that mattered to Sloane.
It seemed that the mare didn’t see or hear her, or perhaps she simply chose to ignore her. The roaring of the fires was quite loud, so perhaps she really didn’t hear her. However, just as Sloane was about to ensure that she was being heard, the mare takes off at a full run. Sloane watches her for a moment before she sighs and decides to follow. Perhaps this mare knew the way out.
Never the one who liked to work up a sweat, Sloane groans as she puts her muscles to work, following as quickly as she can behind the fleeting form of the other. She had no idea how to navigate this land and she was the only one in this moment who knew more about these lands than she did. So she follows.
By now she’s on the heels of the mare, chasing her, trying to catch up to her. And just when she was just close enough to call out to her, she darts into the cave. Sloane follows, unable to comprehend just how stupid this decision would prove to be. Sloane was usually more calculating than this, but she had put her trust into someone who could not lead her to safety. In fact, she led her into a death trap. There was no way out and the flames only heated the air she was breathing, burning her lungs and making her wish she hadn’t followed.
As she went towards the back of the cave, she can see that the female has collapsed. She eases up to her, using her forelimb to tap at her form, trying to see if she’s even alive. “Another one bites the dust…” She doesn’t wait to see if there’s movement, she just assumes the mare is dead…or will be dead shortly. Instead, she steps over the body, heading further into the cave. She thinks she can see light. Perhaps it’s just her mind playing tricks on her. “I’m going to kill these fucking squirrels.” There is malicious intent in her words as they come forth like lava from a volcano. But after that, her voice grows silent and she continues to walk towards the light.
Is it hours later? Days? Hoofbeats on the cold cavern floor, a gentle hum of vibrations and echoes. Not alone, she realizes gratefully, until…the hoofbeats aren’t close anymore, they are receding rapidly into the darkness. Pavetta struggles to regain consciousness, to open her eyes, to call out. Wait, she wants to say--scream—but her throat burns in protest and her mind is shrouded in a heavy, impenetrable fog. Or is it smoke that clouds her senses? She can still taste the ash on her tongue; in her throat, in her eyes, everywhere. Or is she hallucinating? Imagining another soul because it might bring her some sense of comfort to still the terror in her heart?
“Don’t leave me…” Her voice is a mere whisper. Will the stranger even hear her pathetic cry for help? “Please...”
Don’t leave me…
Her eyes close once again and she drifts.
She is a child on the mountain, surrounded by lonely temple walls and vain sorceresses. She recalls a figure in the rain, shrouded in shadow and mist. Mother. Pavetta knows it is her—hair the color of spilled wine, green eyes like a viper. Why does she stand there in the rain, cold and indifferent to Pavetta's childish cries? The sisters usher Pavetta away urgently, their voices low and fierce until she can no longer see the woman in the rain... Mother…
Drip, drip, drip.
She blinks again, waking to droplets of water peppering her brow from above. Am I alone? Cool, musty darkness. A still, quiet emptiness. She can feel the cave breathing; the air circulates and pulls drafts from deep within the bowels of the earth. The raging fire seems to be a distant dream—a nightmare. The cave must be larger than she initially thought if the air is this cool, this clean. And the dripping…might there be a spring nearby? Her eyes are foggy with uncertainty, but yes, someone else is here but it is difficult to make out the stranger’s shape due to her dark coloring. A haze of glowing red lingers on coal black skin.
“Water,” she croaks as she props herself up with all the strength she can muster. “Please.”
a pearl in pigshit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse,
creature in whom nothing, but nothing, remains of an elven woman ---
Already her attention has turned away from the collapsed mare and onto following the light at the back of the small cave. She cannot see any benefit trying to help the mare. Anything she does for the mare is only an advantage for the other female, but not to herself. There’s no good that can come from helping her. It’s not like she’ll be rewarded for her efforts. And so, the mare walks on, completely forgetting that there was ever anyone else in this cave with her.
That is until she hears the small simper, that small cry for help.
Her ears pin backwards, slowly taking in the soft whisper. So the mare is alive. What a travesty. Now she will simply have to die a much slower death. Sloane is hardly bothered by the mare, but something causes her to pause in her journey. Slowly, she turns her head to look back at the heap of flesh only to hear that almost desperate plea for help.
Sloane turns her body to fully look at the heap of mare. She’s still contemplating if she should help the female. There’s no benefit to her. She doesn’t get anything special and it certainly doesn’t advance her goals to help. If anything, she would be nothing but a burden. Trying to exit the cave while ushering forth a dying female will do nothing but hinder her speed. She should leave her to die. Yes, she probably should.
And yet, she doesn’t move. She watches as the mare tries to stand, pleading for Sloane to bring her some water. Sloane is no servant and she takes no orders from anyone. “There’s water back here…” Her voice finally breaks the silence as he offers the mare help. While it wasn’t the help she was originally asking for, it was something. She should be quite grateful that Sloane even offered her directions to where the small spring was. She can hear the steady dripping of the water into a puddle, a puddle that might be life-saving to her.
She turns away from the struggling mare and begins to take a step towards the light. “Come, follow me.” Her words are deceptive, her intent not exactly pure. She wants to appear as though she is helping the stranger but in reality, she is simply wanting to move towards the light. Surely something good will come of it.
She finally reaches the small puddle of fresh water and she takes a moment to sip it. She should probably have let the other drink first, but Sloane is not very gracious in that way. She never has put others before herself and it is a character trait that she has never developed. She’s selfish but she doesn’t care. “Come now, it’s cool and will quench your thirst.” If she were being honest with herself, the water was refreshing and it did cool the burning in the back of her throat from the smoke. Briefly she wonders just why there is no smoke in this cave. One would think that the small draft would draw it in. And yet, it is relatively smoke free.
Only when the mare is close enough to engage in conversation once more does Sloane step forward. There is a small light from above, the light she had been following. Moonlight shines down into the small cave and Sloane wonders how long it’s been since the fires have started. She wonders why the air is not smoky. She wonders why the light has brought her here but not towards and exit. “Is there a way out of here?” She does not really want to go back the way she came. The fires had engulfed the path and left no where to go but into the cave. Surely there was another way out. Perhaps a hidden passageway that this stranger knows about. After all, Sloane is new here…she does not know her way.
