06-24-2014, 11:50 AM
This was it. He was in a padded room that his subconscious named Komukai City. His nut-house cell mate was a snake and Jaxen was stuck there. Maybe they'd shoot him up with a sedative or something if he made a scene. Might as well make the most of it.
He lifted his face just enough to cast careful eyes around him. But he froze when the gaze fell on his savior's true form.
He stared at her body, and not in the fun way. Her face rippled with scales like ancient gold coins. Her eyes slanted and sinister. Her skull fanned like the hood of a standing cobra.
Jaxen hadn't realized he'd crawled away from her. "NO! Creature! Stay out of my head!"
He yelled defiantly and in a flash he ran the opposite way.
The stalls and stands of a market loomed. He ran to it, hoping to lose her inside. Blinded by fear of her torture, he barrelled through a wall of people that hissed at his passing without realizing he'd run into the belly of the beast itself. He shot a brief glance over his shoulder to check on the creature's distance.
Despite his dancer's agility, he tripped on a thick rope that sent him tumbling. When he realized the 'rope' slithered out of the path, the footwork flailed uncontrollably to get away all the faster. The ground rushed up to meet him. A scream shattered the air - not his. White spheres that looked like giant eggs rolled around him having toppled from the stand of a creature seemingly slicing them apart to sell.
Pain flashed through his hip and back, but he rolled, more-like scrambled, to his feet. The dazed creature that came out to check on him found Jaxen's elbow in its face moments before the Ancient stole his knife.
Of course, by then a goodly crowd of snakes, some on two legs, others wormian formed, had circled him. Some were small enough to crawl up his leg, others big enough to swallow him whole, and all manner of scale, color, fang and eyes came for him. Horror panicked inside until defiance grappled his mind of all reason. They wouldn't break him! Not again!
He shifted back and forth, twisting one way and another to keep them all in his sight. "STAY BACK!"
He hefted the knife so that it slashed a radius of warning through the air. They kept their distance.
Threats, horror, betrayal. They made war in his mind a trauma to last the ages. One that burned bright defiance behind ever-shifting eyes.
"On the rocks the gods bind thee with bowels torn forth from thy frost-cold son." A distant voice threatened.
His answer spewed hatred in return.
"Veizt, ef ā hjǫrvi skulumkens hrīmkalda magar“
<em>Though on rocks the gods bind me with bowels
"torngǫrnum binda goþ"
of from my frost-cold son,
"fyrstr ok øfstr vask at fjǫrlagi"
I was first and last at the deadly fight while cowards leered behind</em>
He'd gut his way out, if he had to. Or he'd fall on the knife himself. But either way, he would never let them in again. "STAY OUT OF MY HEAD YOU SONS OF BITCHES."
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Jun 24 2014, 11:51 AM.
He lifted his face just enough to cast careful eyes around him. But he froze when the gaze fell on his savior's true form.
He stared at her body, and not in the fun way. Her face rippled with scales like ancient gold coins. Her eyes slanted and sinister. Her skull fanned like the hood of a standing cobra.
Jaxen hadn't realized he'd crawled away from her. "NO! Creature! Stay out of my head!"
He yelled defiantly and in a flash he ran the opposite way.
The stalls and stands of a market loomed. He ran to it, hoping to lose her inside. Blinded by fear of her torture, he barrelled through a wall of people that hissed at his passing without realizing he'd run into the belly of the beast itself. He shot a brief glance over his shoulder to check on the creature's distance.
Despite his dancer's agility, he tripped on a thick rope that sent him tumbling. When he realized the 'rope' slithered out of the path, the footwork flailed uncontrollably to get away all the faster. The ground rushed up to meet him. A scream shattered the air - not his. White spheres that looked like giant eggs rolled around him having toppled from the stand of a creature seemingly slicing them apart to sell.
Pain flashed through his hip and back, but he rolled, more-like scrambled, to his feet. The dazed creature that came out to check on him found Jaxen's elbow in its face moments before the Ancient stole his knife.
Of course, by then a goodly crowd of snakes, some on two legs, others wormian formed, had circled him. Some were small enough to crawl up his leg, others big enough to swallow him whole, and all manner of scale, color, fang and eyes came for him. Horror panicked inside until defiance grappled his mind of all reason. They wouldn't break him! Not again!
He shifted back and forth, twisting one way and another to keep them all in his sight. "STAY BACK!"
He hefted the knife so that it slashed a radius of warning through the air. They kept their distance.
Threats, horror, betrayal. They made war in his mind a trauma to last the ages. One that burned bright defiance behind ever-shifting eyes.
"On the rocks the gods bind thee with bowels torn forth from thy frost-cold son." A distant voice threatened.
His answer spewed hatred in return.
"Veizt, ef ā hjǫrvi skulumkens hrīmkalda magar“
<em>Though on rocks the gods bind me with bowels
"torngǫrnum binda goþ"
of from my frost-cold son,
"fyrstr ok øfstr vask at fjǫrlagi"
I was first and last at the deadly fight while cowards leered behind</em>
He'd gut his way out, if he had to. Or he'd fall on the knife himself. But either way, he would never let them in again. "STAY OUT OF MY HEAD YOU SONS OF BITCHES."
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Jun 24 2014, 11:51 AM.