Post by Callypso on May 31, 2011 14:09:49 GMT -5
Characters: LINDEN (see reply below)
Words: 764
Blurb: Just a quick piece on Linden's birth and immediate actions... nothing special, just trying to get a feel for him... (Cred to the Xenon for writing about Rowan, as it inspired me!)
___________________________________________
Consciousness.
It was stiflingly warm, dark and… sticky. It was encased… trapped? There was no air…? Air! A hand punched outward and amazingly, the steaming coverlet split and gave like soggy tissue paper. A large, dark form pitched forward as its enclosure was rent asunder, other unknown objects slipping and sliding forth.
Blink.
Blink.
The creature’s eyes darted about as it lay face-down in the mess that had just ruptured all over the floor. Slowly, unsteadily, the creature sat itself up and looked around.
And froze.
Panic constricted its throat, stomach threatening to expel nutrients it had yet to ever consume. Too many questions… Where am I? Who am I? What is going on? Why is there blood everywhere?
As though in answer, pinpricks of knowledge began to light in his mind like a field of stars unveiled by a dense fog. He was a Card. He was… male? And he was just born? But not a natural birth… there was nothing natural about it. Though he had yet to look at himself, he knew he was an odd mixture of realms and breeds. Aspects of culture, norms and sense of community trickled into his brain from some cosmic pool. As his mind began to fill up with second-hand experience, he simultaneously bristled and burst into tears. He flexed his hands before him, realizing what the dark liquid smeared into his fur meant.
His mother was dead.
And his father? He didn’t want to see him, even if he were still alive.
He shuddered, still huddled in his departed parent’s gory remains, and shared his grief with the empty room.
Not so empty. When he was done releasing his anguish, the boy – man – surveyed his surroundings. There were other bodies that had burst. Another trickle of distant memory stirred. A promise issued from a dying man’s mouth. There were others.
Images flickered behind his mind’s eye, like a long-lost memory or dream. But he didn’t have memories, not that were his, anyway, or dreams. It would be nice to have them for his own, but for now, he waited for these to materialize.
He was a brother.
Not just a brother, the eldest brother.
He had a sister. Sisters? No, that wasn’t right. Something confusing about the middle sibling, but they were his. Rowan. And Laurel. And Linden. No, wait. He was Linden? With a start, the creature recognized his name, though he didn’t know if it was what he was meant to be called, or simply a name his mother had heard before. All the same, he knew it was his.
Linden...
He rolled the name around, chewing the syllables as though they were sustenance. His first word! His own name? He reeled in the impossibility of everything, but decided that now was time for action.
He stumbled awkwardly to his feet – oh, a biped? That could make things easier for him, right? He mis-stepped and slid a on some entrails. His stomach lurched as he regained his footing and looked back at his mother’s battered body. Linden tried not to feel guilty. Judging by the Veldt donkey’s other injuries, his mother might have died even before Linden destroyed his midsection. Still… Then there was the matter of burial… he couldn’t manage that just now.
The biped stared lovingly at his mother and closed the eyelid that was still intact. For a while, he stared at each of the other bodies in turn, memorizing their faces (or what was left of them), sure that these people meant something. His siblings had been born of these Cards. They would have to be remembered.
With a sudden sinking feeling, Linden realized that tonight’s trials were not over. For the first time, he registered the feeling of fear, a heady, spicy scent in the air and an overall feeling of wrongness. His stomach buckled again as he also realized he didn’t know where his siblings were, or how to find them. Were they safe? Would they recognize him?
Regardless, he had to find them. Protect them. Be together.
He was suddenly scared, fearing discovery as well as the potential loss of his unnatural litter mates. Strangely, he also felt exhilarated - elated that these emotions were his own and not whispers of a corpse’s existence. Heeding his sudden urge to leave this place, he rummaged around for a cloth to wipe the blood from his hooves and hands, discarding the soiled material in a nearby wastebin.
Taking a last sweeping glance at the crumpled, bloody departed, he swiftly fled the room. The echoes of his footfalls seemed to chase him down the halls and out of this nightmare as his whispered apology escaped his lips:
I’m sorry, Mother…
Words: 764
Blurb: Just a quick piece on Linden's birth and immediate actions... nothing special, just trying to get a feel for him... (Cred to the Xenon for writing about Rowan, as it inspired me!)
___________________________________________
Consciousness.
It was stiflingly warm, dark and… sticky. It was encased… trapped? There was no air…? Air! A hand punched outward and amazingly, the steaming coverlet split and gave like soggy tissue paper. A large, dark form pitched forward as its enclosure was rent asunder, other unknown objects slipping and sliding forth.
Blink.
Blink.
The creature’s eyes darted about as it lay face-down in the mess that had just ruptured all over the floor. Slowly, unsteadily, the creature sat itself up and looked around.
And froze.
Panic constricted its throat, stomach threatening to expel nutrients it had yet to ever consume. Too many questions… Where am I? Who am I? What is going on? Why is there blood everywhere?
As though in answer, pinpricks of knowledge began to light in his mind like a field of stars unveiled by a dense fog. He was a Card. He was… male? And he was just born? But not a natural birth… there was nothing natural about it. Though he had yet to look at himself, he knew he was an odd mixture of realms and breeds. Aspects of culture, norms and sense of community trickled into his brain from some cosmic pool. As his mind began to fill up with second-hand experience, he simultaneously bristled and burst into tears. He flexed his hands before him, realizing what the dark liquid smeared into his fur meant.
His mother was dead.
And his father? He didn’t want to see him, even if he were still alive.
He shuddered, still huddled in his departed parent’s gory remains, and shared his grief with the empty room.
Not so empty. When he was done releasing his anguish, the boy – man – surveyed his surroundings. There were other bodies that had burst. Another trickle of distant memory stirred. A promise issued from a dying man’s mouth. There were others.
Images flickered behind his mind’s eye, like a long-lost memory or dream. But he didn’t have memories, not that were his, anyway, or dreams. It would be nice to have them for his own, but for now, he waited for these to materialize.
He was a brother.
Not just a brother, the eldest brother.
He had a sister. Sisters? No, that wasn’t right. Something confusing about the middle sibling, but they were his. Rowan. And Laurel. And Linden. No, wait. He was Linden? With a start, the creature recognized his name, though he didn’t know if it was what he was meant to be called, or simply a name his mother had heard before. All the same, he knew it was his.
Linden...
He rolled the name around, chewing the syllables as though they were sustenance. His first word! His own name? He reeled in the impossibility of everything, but decided that now was time for action.
He stumbled awkwardly to his feet – oh, a biped? That could make things easier for him, right? He mis-stepped and slid a on some entrails. His stomach lurched as he regained his footing and looked back at his mother’s battered body. Linden tried not to feel guilty. Judging by the Veldt donkey’s other injuries, his mother might have died even before Linden destroyed his midsection. Still… Then there was the matter of burial… he couldn’t manage that just now.
The biped stared lovingly at his mother and closed the eyelid that was still intact. For a while, he stared at each of the other bodies in turn, memorizing their faces (or what was left of them), sure that these people meant something. His siblings had been born of these Cards. They would have to be remembered.
With a sudden sinking feeling, Linden realized that tonight’s trials were not over. For the first time, he registered the feeling of fear, a heady, spicy scent in the air and an overall feeling of wrongness. His stomach buckled again as he also realized he didn’t know where his siblings were, or how to find them. Were they safe? Would they recognize him?
Regardless, he had to find them. Protect them. Be together.
He was suddenly scared, fearing discovery as well as the potential loss of his unnatural litter mates. Strangely, he also felt exhilarated - elated that these emotions were his own and not whispers of a corpse’s existence. Heeding his sudden urge to leave this place, he rummaged around for a cloth to wipe the blood from his hooves and hands, discarding the soiled material in a nearby wastebin.
Taking a last sweeping glance at the crumpled, bloody departed, he swiftly fled the room. The echoes of his footfalls seemed to chase him down the halls and out of this nightmare as his whispered apology escaped his lips:
I’m sorry, Mother…
