Envy PT 10 Terror

4/17/2018 2:44am

The moment that someone entered the room, they were met with a pitch black void. Nothingness as far as the eye could see, empty space void of light. There was nothing within, no people, no furnature.. No door.

Everything that was, was no more, wreathed in the pitch black darkness that was the illusionist. Everything was nothing, except You

Your very presence in this room caused ripples, waves, tsunamis of energy to echo in the darkness as two large eyes opened in the distance.. or it might have been the distance, it was hard to tell how far those eyes truly were. They were large and far away, or were they small and simply close? Emerald hues that existed elsewhere and everywhere, no matter where your vision turned, he.. no.. IT was everywhere.

From nothing came you, and gave rise to something entirely.. wrong. A voice echoed througout the emptiness, it sounded as if it were from your own mouth, but they weren't your own words, it wasn't your voice.

"All that you are, all that you can be.. Why do you deserve it when I could do it so much better?</color>"

The darkness begins to move, or at least something seemed to move, something was flowing by your body.. No, wait.. something was flowing FROM your body. Color was tearing away from your flesh and being replaced with patches of darkness, tearing away at your existence. Slowly those distant eyes began to change in color and shape, those were your eyes! No, they were his eyes now.

Slowly what was once your form became the form of the entity before you, the shadows melting away to reveal the man that was You, but wrong.

"Welcome."
(Rai Yasahiro)

A large and kind of sorta burly man of unknown descent curelessly wanders into what he thinks is some Inn, but in reality is the Gaiar Aetherius jails. Well shit!

He makes his way in through the dark. Possibly the only noticeable thing about him would be his bright blue shorts. What a beautiful pair!

He'd stare at the green man, wondering why he was monologue to himself but so be it he just wanted to figure out what the fuck this dark and gloomy place was. Can even see cobwebs in the corners what a dump.

Anyways he squints at the man and gives him a half wave and nod.

"A, what's this?"
(Darge the Large)


Darge the Large asks, "A, It's nothing. You need something big friend?"

Darge the Large says, "Ye, what's this place now? Ya fuckin' give yer sword to the Demons and they don't even 'ive you a tour."

Darge the Large says, "...Why are ye me."

Darge the Large says, "This is the prison. What's our name? I'd give ye a tour but I ain' able to leave righ' now."

Darge the Large asks, "Name be Darge, stranded priate by trade sword for the demons by necessit'. Who you be?"

Darge the Large says, "Name be Darge, stranded pirate by trade swrod for the demons by necessit'. Though I be a runescribe iffin' ye need it."

Darge the Large asks, "Yer not me by any means, laddy. But ye be one of those scribes? Who can write pretty colors on me blade?"

Darge the Large says, "Yer not me by any means, laddy. But ye be one of those scribes? Who write pretty colors on me blade? Well aye, me writes them pretty colors on 'em blades."
Darge , the copy, continues to refine it's mimicry of the man, illusions knitting tighter and tighter around his form, strangling the truth within.
(Darge the Large)

What an uneasy fuckin' fellow he is. Going off and takin' his name and all. Disrespectful curs like that would pay in time, but now wasn't the time.

Darge takes his blade from his back and tosses on the ground infront of his doppelganger.
(Darge the Large)

Darge the Large drops Broadsword.

There was a pulse of shadow from the man, or at least what looked like it as runes began to flow from his body like a mass of spiked tentdrils, from his body.

This man was a perfect candidate

The tendrils grabbed ahold of the sword

"And what enchantment do you desire?" His words dripped with a venomous jelousy, this man had freedom He would take it and use it so much better

The illusionary tendrils began to crawl along the edge of the blade, light carving along it's length.
(Darge the Large)


Darge the Large asks, "Make it hit things harder, what else do ye' think I am?"
"Make it hit harder?"

The false Darge grins, he could make it hit so much harder than the true darge.


"Very well."

The large man grabbed the blade and lunged forward, tip aimed at the true darge.
(Darge the Large)

You pick up Broadsword.

The blade was brought to the side moments before the false darge would have been in range. <Too soon.>

"Bring me one piece of Nyeshk if you wish it to hit harder."
(Darge the Large)

Darge would FLINCH at the scoundrel tryin' to take his life but... he stopped? Well it be his lucky day for Darge's fury was avoided. Or maybe it was Darges lucky day because sweet jesus Christ he could not take the man on.

He'd take his sword back and let out a grunt, it's hard to tell his facial features because of the darkness but he looks a bit rattled.

"Aye, aye. I don't know why I be consortin' with a brigge anyways but I'll see ye' later."

With that he'd leave, and thank the fake Darge for being a nice guy. Of course in a more spiritual sense.
(Darge the Large)

Darge , the false one, nods before wandering back over to the chair returning to his seat and drawing upon the table, shadows beginning to spread like a web, once more waiting for prey.
(Darge the Large)