Shadow Fiend: Inactive | Beefed Up (T3) | Ultimate Predator: Inactive | Hulk SMASH! [Inactive]
___________
CW: Disscociation
Peace.
Quiet.
Darkness.
That’s what replaced the tumultuous symphony of screaming voices that made up the dark-furred tom’s nightmares. Though the nightmares had left, so too had Darkfall’s sense of identity. A new persona had taken over during the waking hours, and while the one called The Spectre slept, there was nothing.
Well… while that was normally the case, something had changed. Things were different tonight.
Darkfall, or the cat who referred to himself as such awoke in darkness. The raging hellscape that had been his mind had simmered down to dark forest lit only by a larger-than-average moon. Deep within this forest, the former enforcer was in a pit illuminated by the moonlight. In this pit, he was held immobile by dark green vines — unable to so much as call out due to the tight grip that was suffocating the air from his lungs.
Oh how far he had fallen. At one point he had been a well-respected warrior, one who could be relied upon and held in great esteem, however, now he was reduced to this state. The massive tom was locked in place deep within the confines of his own mind, prevented from seeing the outside world by an alternative version of himself.
Maybe this was for the better. Though The Spectre had gotten them kicked out of both the guards and Enforcers, he had to admit that there was an opportunity for growth. Everyone seemed to have the opinion that he was a weak, feeble warrior underserving of the position and unfit for the clan, but perhaps this would change that. Perhaps seeing him like this would improve their perception of him. Maybe, just maybe, Larkfire would deem him worthy of standing by her side once more.
The Spectre was under the impression that he had killed Darkfall — that the one who called himself such no longer existed. However, that was not the case. The empty place within Darkfall’s heart was a reminder of that fact. The dull throbbing in his head was a reminder of th— wait. Something was off.
What he had perceived to be a headache was the echo of pawsteps. Someone was here.
He wasn’t sure who, or why, but someone else was making their way through the forest. He wasn’t quite sure what direction they were coming from, or what direction they were going, but each step pounded into him — reverberating through his very being. Sensing an opportunity, he strained against the vines to no avail. ”Mmmf!” He managed, trying to call out to the unknown being, unsure of whether they were friend or foe ”Mmmff!!”
Would they be able to hear him? Or would they walk past without so much as a word? He didn’t know, but he wanted to be freed. Even though his life had been nothing but filled with pain and sorrow, there was something that he knew deep within his heart.
She had not meant to... intrude. Someone else's mind. Someone else's thoughts. Someone else's dreamscape. And yet, she found she could not leave once she'd touched down, once her paws had pressed against this dreary landscape, once she felt the insistant pulsing of a beating heart.
A beating heart being constricted. Smothered. Restrained and restricted.
Something was wrong here, and Lostspark felt a calling, the red string of fate tugging her forward, her pawsteps slow and measured. Her gait was a prowl, fiery-amber eyes lit against the dark forest she stalked through. The moon provided no light this night - it was Lostspark who was provided the light in this dream, and she felt odd about it. This mind both welcomed her and despised her, the wind itself both a loving embrace and a harsh cold shoulder.
The vines spiraling through the dark forest grew thicker, more alive, as she progressed forwards, following them back to where she supposed this ... rot(..?) was growing from.
And then she saw it, from behind; a clump of the vines, coiling over and over and over again, no end in sight. The vines were so thick, so congested. It was only when she carefully picked her way around the thrashing plants that she noted... there was a cat in the center. A cat she knew, or had known, quite well.
He had been her best friend before her mate, and Lostspark was not one to turn her back on cat's she considered beloved, not unless they betrayed her first. And while Darkfall had been staying away from her lately - Lostspark figured he wanted to avoid her/disliked her now - this seemed. . . off.
Something was not right here. In fact, this entire place screamed wrong, just like her dreamscape did. Without another thought, Lostspark plunged into the fray on tangling vines, ivory-coloured claws sawing through the vines with diligent efficiency, even if it took a while.
Shadow Fiend: Inactive | Beefed Up (T3) | Ultimate Predator: Inactive | Hulk SMASH! [Inactive]
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CW: Dissociation
Pp perms granted by @/Rose
Step… Step… Step…
The pounding steps seemed to draw closer with each passing second. The idea that whoever or whatever was here with him had malicious intentions crossed his mind. It was eerie. He could feel the presence drawing closer, but was unable to determine who they were. An uncomfortable prickle ran through his pelt and he foudn himself struggling with earnest. He wanted to get out – he needed to get out. But alas, he was held stuck with no way to free himself. He hated it, this feeling of helplessness. It reminded him of a lot of memories he worked so hard to suppress. Memories of not being able to help those he held most dear.
Eventually, the vines behind him began to give way. Someone was cutting through them. Someone, was coming to him. But what was their purpose, just who was– Oh. When their eyes met, the struggling ceased. It was someone He knew quite well, someone that had been the light of his life, his reason for living for a long time. It was…
“Lark… fire…?” The tom said, words broken and distorted as the dream began to unravel, darkness rushing in from the edges – swallowing everything in their wake. He was relieved to have been freed from his bindings, however, he didn’t expect to see her in this place. A sad smile graced his lips as he leaned down, tongue making contact with soft fur as he gently licked the top of her head. It was a gesture he’d done on occasion, starting when they were mere apprentices. Taking a step back, he fumbled with his words for a bit as he thought of what to say. There was so much he’d wanted to tell her, so much that he had left unsaid for moons, but he could sense it. Just as their relationship had been cut agonizingly short, so too would their time here in their place. He had to hurry. He had to say it. Opening his mouth, his words came out warbled, as if he were underwater. “I’m… I’m really sor—“ He began before being cut off as the darkness swallowed him and engulfed the former healer.
The dream didn’t end there, no no, there was more. The one in control of the body was beginning to wake up, and as such, Darkfall was once agin pushed back into the dark corners at the back of his mind. That’s when they appeared. A plethora of wispy, dark-furred faces surrounded the lithe she-cat. ”Darkfall is dead.” They began chanting in echoed unison, bearing a malicious smile and a glint of mischief in their azure blue eyes.
And then that was it. The dream was over, and The Spectre woke up in a daze within the confines of the medicine den. The stale scent of herbs smacked him in the face and he couldn’t help but frown. He could scarcely remember being dragged into her, but the details of how much time had passed since Mossfreckle began treating him were fuzzy. Something was off. He didn’t know what, but the persona that had taken over this body could feel that things had changed somehow. Eyes growing heavy once more, he fell back into a deep slumber. That would be a problem for later.
Shadow Fiend: Inactive | Beefed Up (T3) | Ultimate Predator: Inactive | Hulk SMASH! [Inactive]
___________
CW: Dissociation
Pp perms granted by @/Rose
Step… Step… Step…
The pounding steps seemed to draw closer with each passing second. The idea that whoever or whatever was here with him had malicious intentions crossed his mind. It was eerie. He could feel the presence drawing closer, but was unable to determine who they were. An uncomfortable prickle ran through his pelt and he foudn himself struggling with earnest. He wanted to get out – he needed to get out. But alas, he was held stuck with no way to free himself. He hated it, this feeling of helplessness. It reminded him of a lot of memories he worked so hard to suppress. Memories of not being able to help those he held most dear.
Eventually, the vines behind him began to give way. Someone was cutting through them. Someone, was coming to him. But what was their purpose, just who was– Oh. When their eyes met, the struggling ceased. It was someone He knew quite well, someone that had been the light of his life, his reason for living for a long time. It was…
“Lark… fire…?” The tom said, words broken and distorted as the dream began to unravel, darkness rushing in from the edges – swallowing everything in their wake. He was relieved to have been freed from his bindings, however, he didn’t expect to see her in this place. A sad smile graced his lips as he leaned down, tongue making contact with soft fur as he gently licked the top of her head. It was a gesture he’d done on occasion, starting when they were mere apprentices. Taking a step back, he fumbled with his words for a bit as he thought of what to say. There was so much he’d wanted to tell her, so much that he had left unsaid for moons, but he could sense it. Just as their relationship had been cut agonizingly short, so too would their time here in their place. He had to hurry. He had to say it. Opening his mouth, his words came out warbled, as if he were underwater. “I’m… I’m really sor—“ He began before being cut off as the darkness swallowed him and engulfed the former healer.
The dream didn’t end there, no no, there was more. The one in control of the body was beginning to wake up, and as such, Darkfall was once agin pushed back into the dark corners at the back of his mind. That’s when they appeared. A plethora of wispy, dark-furred faces surrounded the lithe she-cat. ”Darkfall is dead.” They began chanting in echoed unison, bearing a malicious smile and a glint of mischief in their azure blue eyes.
And then that was it. The dream was over, and The Spectre woke up in a daze within the confines of the medicine den. The stale scent of herbs smacked him in the face and he couldn’t help but frown. He could scarcely remember being dragged into her, but the details of how much time had passed since Mossfreckle began treating him were fuzzy. Something was off. He didn’t know what, but the persona that had taken over this body could feel that things had changed somehow. Eyes growing heavy once more, he fell back into a deep slumber. That would be a problem for later.
How many times must she say, must she prove, that she was not Larkfire, that she would never be Larkfire again? But Lostspark didn't correct him. Instead, her single-minded focus was entirely on freeing him from the vines. Or at least, until she felt the gentle scrape of his tongue against the top of her head. Lostspark stilled, amber gaze flitting upward with surprise, her heart suddenly feeling more off-center than usual at the sad smile on her ex-mate's face. When he opened his mouth, somehow she already knew what he was going to say, and Lostspark attempted to talk over him, to make him stop before he could start. "You don't need to—"
Her words cut off as she choked on the sudden darkness that engulfed them whole, and Lostspark was wheezing for breath as she was lurched aside, tossed elsewhere like she weighed nothing, like she meant nothing. And maybe, just maybe, in this dark world, she did mean nothing at all.
Her hackles rose, her ears pinned back, her lips peeled back in a feral snarl. Lostspark whirled to face the wispy creatures of hell as they surrounded her, circling like sharks drawn to blood. A low, guttural snarl rumbling in her throat, the herbalist kept her eyes on the shadowy figures, unease prickling her pelt as they began to chant.
Darkfall is alive. Darkfall was alive. Darkfall is not dead. Darkfall was not dead. Darkfall was dead. Darkfall... is dead?
No other explanation, no other words, as she was thrown back into her own landscape of personal terrors, her dreamscape overflowing with nightmares.
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❝ You don't think I know my own palace? I built it. ❞
I'm Aching, Begging You to Come Help [p]
