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Thread: canyons // (Esperanza)

  1. #21
    ♥Fiction♥ URPG StaffAdministrator Smiles's Avatar
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    Spoiler:

    @Origamidragons;

    I apologize for the belated reply on this one!

    Esperanza: Post 10


    Medium Mission:
    This mission requires at least one (?!) player, not including the NPC, with at least 15 IC posts from each character.
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    • OOC: a Medium Pokemon of your choosing + 1 TM






    #11 // wc: 500

    Dravon sees her away with the utmost care. A death dance begins in the dark, the Dragonite waltzing away with the bloody whoosh of the Mega Houndoom that now pursue him. For every craning of their majestic heads split apart by their snarl, time seems to tick a second slower; and he feels in intimate awareness the form of the young girl crouching away towards salvation. The ancient Dragonite now thinks of a child, or perhaps also thinks of his own brother in the space above them. “We are all slaves to something or another,” he thinks for even the briefest of moments as he thinks he also hears her speak of her gratitude to him. The expression is quick, rushed: a breath of air in this whirlwind that might be the end of his life. Still, the Dragonite thanks her mentally for this wish.

    The howl of a dog punctures the afternoon.

    Meanwhile, Esperanza has begun her escape down the left passage. Cool stone wall embraces her palms. Upon those walls are murals made from the mashed and drained guts of berries from millennia ago. They sing a story to Esperanza, one about the resilience of a community and the ultimate follies of mankind. Who once laid this pathway here? Who wore this trail, which started off rocky in the beginning but gently flowed into a smooth pathway? The rocks crunch silently under her feet, as if honoring the sacred space that lingers nearby. The trail itself goes on for miles; time stretches its odd property as Esperanza continues along, the wail of beasts and the soft spreading of wings long gone.

    At the bottom of Death’s Ravine stands a small city.

    One could call it that, but one could also call it a barrier: the boundary between this world and another. Yet one also knows of it as a community. The city’s heart beats with the chanting of a proud people within; the smell of cooked food wafts upwards from thatched rooftops, each a labor of love from those who dedicated their lives to living down here. They protected something. A massive fence protrudes from the earth over the city, an outstretched jaw from the skull of the world’s keeper. This fence is made of metal, tree, a little bit of everything and even that of which is not entirely known to man. Is this the city Orhun wanted to enter? This city screams of life and secrecy and devastation.

    Before Esperanza can even begin finding out the process of how to enter such a place, a menacing growl ripples out from behind her! There, an undefeated beast of hell looms, its chest puffed and jaw snapped back with snarl. It looks towards her with eyes that are unseeing, unprocessing. A slight twitch racks its body. It is a beast being controlled by the pirates from above, or is it one which simply evaded Orhun’s mighty care? Hesitation lies in its slowed muscles. What will Esperanza do now?

    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

  2. #22
    Origamidragons's Avatar
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    ​(word count: 591)

    Esperanza’s face is hot, her hands and legs scuffed and scraped from many falls, her muscles aching from running running running. She sucks in another deep breath into pained lungs and pushed on, chest heaving. The growls and snarls chase her through the winding stone ravine, echoing and echoing until it is impossible to tell whether they are far behind or right on her heels. The noises of a fight come from behind, loud and angry.

    Dravon.

    Thank you.

    The area around her begins to lighten, almost imperceptibly at first, but then she can make out the walls looming up around her, going up for miles until she couldn’t see the sky. She slows for a moment, stops, squinting up and trying to make out the zig-zag lightning bolt of blue, however thin and faint, that should be there.

    It’s not.

    But then where is the light coming from?

    What is this place?

    There’s no answer from Espiritu, and that scares her more than anything so far.

    ...i don’t know, the Absol eventually whispers, sounding strained. there’s so much…

    Espiritu trails off, sounding lost in a way she rarely does, and tears trickle down from dark red eyes unbidden. The Pokemon is crying. Esperanza swipes briefly at the tears that come from her eyes but aren’t hers, then continues on, eyes adjusting as the faint light continues to brighten. Soon enough, she can make out the paintings on the rock walls, faintly. She stops to look when the nowhere-light is bright enough to illuminate the colors, still as fresh and bright as they were (a hundred, a thousand, a long long time) years ago, even though the paint is chipped and worn.

    Then she can make out the shapes, and the shock that slams into her stomach is like a physical blow because-

    no-

    -because this place is impossible.

    Because Pokemon only arrived ten years ago. Her sense of time may be muddled and distorted, but she knows that much. She knows they couldn’t possibly have been here when these were painted, and yet there they are, scattered here and there among the human figures of the painting. She closes her eyes, opens them again, and the paintings are still there and she can’t bear to look.

    Near the center of what she can see of the mural as it stretches up endlessly into the void above, there’s a pair of horribly familiar red eyes daubed on in what must be blood that burn with hatred.

    Esperanza turns, and she runs, faster than before even though she can’t hear the fighting behind her anymore. She’s not running from the fight.

    The canyon starts to open, stops being so horrifyingly claustrophobic, although the sun is still sealed away and Esperanza still only has that strange sourceless nothing-light to see by.

    There’s a city, so much as it could be called that, and it’s alive, but Esperanza barely has time to grasp this newest impossibility before there’s a snarl from behind her. She turns around, hands open and nonthreatening at her sides.

    It might have been years and countless miles since Esperanza knew how to interact with people, how to read them, but she knows Pokemon. Has one living inside her skull who knows her better than anyone. And something about this one is wrong. It moves with a lurching hesitation, and it looks… dead, behind its eyes.

    Very carefully, Esperanza stretches out a hand, ready to yank it back to her body.

    “Do. Do you need help?” she asks softly. “Can help.”

  3. #23
    ♥Fiction♥ URPG StaffAdministrator Smiles's Avatar
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    Spoiler:

    @Origamidragons;

    no more late replies from me!! let's POWER through the end! also purple cause blue and red l m a o I have waited so long for this moment

    I hope you're having a lot of fun <333 welcome to fantasy overworld where anything and everything happens

    Esperanza: Post 11


    Medium Mission:
    This mission requires at least one (?!) player, not including the NPC, with at least 15 IC posts from each character.
    Prize Package:
    • IC: P1,500, on top of normal money that would be received from posting
    • OOC: a Medium Pokemon of your choosing + 1 TM






    #12 // wc: 742

    The dog monstrosity peers up at Esperanza’s hand with eyes that pierce. A low hunger hangs tight in its belly, constricting, shuddering through the beast as it registers conflicting feelings: this creature before me is both the hunter and the hunted. The dog backs away from her hand, black muscles rippling underneath the nearly exposed flesh of charred skin. Bones stick out here and there, as if the creature had been stripped of its skeleton and muscle mass only to be sloppily thrown back together in some strange machination. Unholy dark devastation. A moment of hesitation lingers in the air, tangible to Esperanza’s own touch. Something manifests in that bright light, a supreme darkness contrasting against the nothing light of the city right before them.

    A snarl rips free from the throat of the beast. The conflicting feelings play out in either black pupil before the spark of flame boils within its mouth. Even with this aggression, the creature backs away from Esperanza slightly. Black haunches tense as it struggles to define the nature of the one before it: friend or foe? The smell of human wafts free from its form, but the girl before it with the long hair stretching down her body also distinctively feels like Pokémon ; and all this time, the creature is confused.

    In a moment of palpable terror that extends from this present into the past, the beast digs into its superhuman senses. This technique is both barbaric yet rational: the result of centuries of hunting. The Mega Houndoom illusion throws its head back, spark of fire still lit between its jaw, as it takes in the scent of Esperanza. Many scents cover her: that of gunpowder, and the specific scents of human and beast. With its own power, the beast pulls a sight out of smell: for now it envisions a giant dragon creature beside the girl, mighty and fierce in its devotion to her protection. The beast also picks up on the sight of humans through smell, unique creatures with mixed intentions. The beast’s eyes narrow as it zooms in through sight-sound on the image of that burnt orange dragon who nearly broke scaled wings in the fray for their lives.

    She returned to this sacred place without the Dragonite at her side.

    The guardian deity makes its decision.

    The skin of the Mega Houndoom sizzles off its body in black pools and thick smoke. From the obsidian vapors, the bones shift and reshape, carving into a tunnel of bones that stretch overhead in the form of a ribcage. Black tufts of relentless fur stretch across the skin, wild and overgrown, splotches of bone still revealed in places. The full, true form of the creature before Esperanza reaches as high as the fence meant to block evil out of the city. Its thrashing tail lands against the ground, careful not to accidentally scrape the beautiful carvings and paintings from the wall. With a sick scrunching sound, paws each the size of tires bury into the ground, turning to face the PokeSoul in full form. Above, two heads roar terrifyingly, shooting flame like fireworks into the nothing-light that floods human vision with brightness.

    “I am the guardian of the OtherCity,” the Cerberus creature booms, “and I have deemed you an intruder unfit for our welcoming. Prepare for your end.”

    A shadow stalks through the brightness somehow uncaught.

    “No way,” a low voice calls out, petulant as usual, “look what mess you got yourself into this time!”

    Hands tucked into pockets, bloody stains splayed across the same leather pants from the morning, bones somehow restored in the brief time Esperanza has seen him – who knows what devil voodoo magic he used to do that?

    “Want help?” the voice urges. Orhun shrugs as he looks up smugly at Esperanza, the tufts of his own hair still matted with blood, boy-man face slightly smudged with smoke and dirt. But recognition and respect lie like cut amethysts in his eyes, scintillating in their acknowledgement of Esperanza. He has not asked for the map yet. His consciousness is still split, yet somehow shared; and all he knows is that he both owes the lady before him and wants to see them both out alive in this situation. Those eyes shoot back up towards the towering Cerberus, suddenly on edge. Orhun moves with fluidity now, preparing for whatever fight lies ahead as the Cerberus begins charging an unstoppable cannon - !

    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

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