screwthatnoise

♥ v2

A cold, delicate hand grabs yours and pulls. It pulls, and it pulls... there's a sense of urgency in this icy grasp, as well as a trace of reluctance. Abruptly the hand let's go, right as your vision fades to black, and for a brief moment, only a brief moment, your senses disappear. There's only the eerie sensation of weightlessness before your feet are settled back on solid ground again.

(please join #echolife! ♪)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Haven't you ever wanted something different?!

[TRYING FOR A GRAB, YYY]

"Call me what you will. I am the part of Hail with the greatest desire. I am tired of repeating myself...!"

When you grab the skull, this cold, stiffening pulse is sent through your fingers, your hands—this skull wants you to kill yourself.

And the hand that Mithos is holding onto will burst into flames now.

*YELLS and -- wrenches her towards him*

[wrenches the skull away from her as that happens, wavering at that pulse — then throws it to the ground and smashes at it with his sword with a yell, if he can]

The skull shatters into pieces—and immediately dissipates, not dangerously like the tree had done before, but disappearing.

The cloaked figure screams.

Her entire body suddenly immerses into flames, but it doesn't seem like she's on fire. Rather, it seems like her body is giving off this hot, disorienting flame. Her words are almost nonsensical, and her voice is shrill; she's still screaming at the top of her lungs, and now trying to grab both of you by your shirts.

"H̢͝O͞W̸ ̛͝C̨͜͢O͘U̡LD͟ ̶́Y̶̵O҉̛Ư͜͠ ̛̀́H̵̨O̶҉͏W͟͜ ̨C̛O̷͟U̧͡Ĺ̨̢D̸̕̕ ̸Y̨O̸U̴ ͜͞H̢̕O̵W͜ ͏͢C̴̷̡Ǫ̀ÙL̷͜D̷ ̡͞YƠU!!"

Edited 2013-08-02 20:28 (UTC)

*> STOP

> DROP NPC TO THE GROUND

> ROLL NPC ALONG THE GROUND

p...probably getting burned like hell whether this succeeds or not but*

[BURNS ARE HAPPENING YES, probably getting caught up in that]

Hail!

Excellent technique there, Mithos; as long as you let go of her you will succeed to disperse the flames that caught you, but there are still some unpleasant burns left behind.

She tries to pull you closer, Lloyd.

"T̡H̸A̶̕T́҉ ́W͜͏͘AS̵͞ ҉҉WH͠Y̶͠ ͘Í̸ ͏́͠L̢̛I҉̧V̧É̴͜D̸̨ ̷͡Ţ̢͟H̵͠A̵͞T̢҉ ̶̛W͟͢͡A̴̧͞S̢͝ W̡̡H̷Y ̶͞I̶ ̧L͏̛I̸̕͞V̷̴͜ED̡̧—̢͝!̶̸̴!̸̧"

The flames from her body rise to dangerous heights.

*h-holy shit; finishes that roll back to an upright crouch and starts...casting

next time inventory a bucket of water to bring into hearts, self*

[TRYING TO WRENCH AWAY AGAIN OR GET HER FLAMES MUFFLED, one or the other, because SHIT FIRE?!]

The fiery figure let's go of you. She steps back, far back and into the table, and that, in turn, catches flame, too.

"G̴͟I̛VE͏̷͢ ̛Í̧͜T͠͡ B̶̡A̸͞C̡K͠ ͡G͘I̧͝V͞E ̷̢̛IT̸͘͝ ͜͡B͟͡AC̶̶K͜͞ TÒ̵͜ ̨M̡E̴͡ ҉̕G̶̷IV̢̀̕E͏ ̡I͟͏T̶͝ ̸̢B̛A̕͠͞C̷͡K!̕͝!̸!̀͡!̶̨͠"

*oh my god, why. aims the spell at herrr*

Spread!

*and that. that sure is a wave of water incoming.*

[I REALLY LIKE THIS PLAN.]

The water drowns the flames. Steam rises over the girl, and you're left with her dripping, crisp body—which is still standing, presumably clenching her fists. I guess she did catch on fire, but her eyes are still in tact, for they only figuratively burning with rage.

She's seething, taking labored breaths.

"T̷̡HA̵͟T̨ ̨̀W̧A͘S ̧M͏̢͠Ỳ͡ E̢̡͘V͢͡EŖ̸͜Y̧T̨̨H̵̸Í̧͟N̴̷͢G͏ ͡M͏Y ̶E̢V͏͏É̷R̶Y̵T͞͏HIN̢G͝"

*someone has hit their limit for not yelling back*

No, it's not! It's gone and you're still here!

[Mithos keeps having great ideas here]

You don't deserve to die either!

"B̢U͏͏̸T̷̢ ̸̸̡I̵ ẀA̶N̶T̢͝ ̧͝T͘͢Ơ̶ ͢I ̴̨́W̛͜A̶̡N͏T̸ ͘̕T̨O͢ ̛͡҉I̴̸ ͏̶R̴È̴ALL̴̀Y̸͝ ͘R͏̨E͡͡A̸͟͠Ļ̶̴L̡̢͠Y͏ ̡҉̨W̸͘Ą̷͠N͏̶T͞ ͟T͝͡O̢!!̴͡"

It won't do anything for you! You might think it'll help, but dying never solves anything! E-even when the problem is wanting to die! You idiot!

What does dying do?! It's meaningless! There's no point in dying!

The figure drops to its knees.

The flames disperse, leaving behind a crisp black figure.

It's still muttering incoherent words.

*moving towards her, then, if the fires are out D|*

Hail!

[k-kneeling next to her, wincing at the pain of his own burns; tries casting cure on her?]

The fires are all out now, and the cast is helping! Slowly the crisp—think of the burn on a marshmallow—falls away, revealing a person beneath.

She's just staring at the floor, curling her fists and clenching them.

"That was my hope."

*added another cure to Lloyd's to speed that along*

. . . you've got the strength to make a new one, Hail.

...I meant what I said about dying not having any point. Dying is the end of hoping too.

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