Post by tantan on Oct 23, 2011 9:11:12 GMT -5
SIX FEET BELOW
with alyssa
_____________
Helpless in his dreams, hell awaited him when he sleeps.
His terrors shall go only when he is six feet below.
_____________
***************
with alyssa
_____________
Helpless in his dreams, hell awaited him when he sleeps.
His terrors shall go only when he is six feet below.
_____________
It was half an hour past three o'clock when Shamees sneaked past the guards to enter Pokemon Tower unnoticed. While he was by no means entering to do something unlawful, Shamees did not want his personal activities be watched. As difficult and mind-draining as the task was, he had to maintain his public image as the saintly president of the peace-loving Lux organization. He wanted to stay away from any prying eyes or eavesdropping ears when there was personal business to attend to. He did not expect to have much time for himself when he was appointed the job. He was prepared to abandon his duty to himself for...well, duties he had but the self was pretty needy sometimes. Shamees would not be able to continue his job if this were not settled.
None of his associates knew Shamees lived on a constant sleep deprivation. While his outward serenity and calm have by far fooled everyone, his physician was a different story. Shamees did not really try to hide it. It was perfectly natural to set aside sleep for work...but maybe not when it goes on for three weeks. Having endured sleeplessness and strenuous tasks since his childhood, his ability to stay awake for an extreme period of time was – as his physician put it – “insane.” As his military background was no secret, Shamees explained that he simply did not want to have nightmares. Voices and images he could not decipher haunted him the instant he closed his eyes and he suffered confusion whether he was even awake or not. Unsurprisingly, he garnered extra pity from his little story although Shamees did not really find his situation sad. There were, after all, people out there with worse fate than his. He simply had to walk through the path set on him. There was no space for complains in a world with no options to take.
And now he had to face the dastard ghosts attacking his psyche. He could never get them out of his head but talking to please the souls elevated their assaults, lightened his head, set him slightly at ease. None of the denizens of Pokemon Tower was a slain creature Shamees personally knew but one way or another, their fate here had been because of him. Casualties of war. A chain of events, a domino effect on everyone's lives. Fate.
Tula, his Mismagius, faded into the air lurking above tombstones. Vrscika, his Dusknoir, was on his other side, the orb of his scarlet eye whirling in search of lost souls. The Mienshao's were positioned outside the tower as a watch and Simba and Mina were left in his house.
His wandering eyes made a stop to a fresh bouquet of flowers offered before a tombstone, which had an erect photograph of a Bellossom.
Daffodils. Shamees recognized the flower. They were golden flowers, a reminder of the glowing sunshine passed on from person to person. Shamees hated it.
Tula and Vrscika circled around him. The fire on the candles' wicks flickered eerily casting grotesque shadows on the white marbled floor and the voices began to speak.
Who are you?
“A legitimate murderer,” he mumbled, words barely any louder for the still contemplating silence. “And you?”
A victim of war started by your senseless ambition.
“I have none. I was merely appointed.”
Don't you dare deny the deaths by your hands.
He looked away from the tombstone, eyes cast down. “...that's right.”
You are aware.
“Completely. I..would rather not have...done this,” he said with difficulty. “I don't want to have anything to do with this.”
Then leave...stop fighting.
He'd been told of that many times. “I already told you why, why I cannot.” He massaged his eyes with a hand, blinking wearily. Each time he closed his eyes, he feared he would fall asleep and sink in another nightmare. Shamees then noticed pink ribbons pinned to the bouquet. “Contest Ribbons?”
My Trainer and I were Coordinators.
“That's...terrible.”
How dare you! You wouldn't understand -
Shamees mildly shook his head. “I wish you and your Trainer hadn't gotten involved. I admire Pokemon Coordinators, maybe envy them a little. If I had the chance to choose, I would pick to be a Coordinator where I can fight for something else other than human conflicts.”
The voice was silent. Shamees inwardly sighed. All he knew was to fight. When he learned fighting could be used for other than killing, he was drawn to the idea out of interest; however, he knew more than to hope, to believe. He could never be one. He had no right to choose his fate. But it slightly comforted Shamees. At least the only thing he knew how to do could after all make people happy as well.
“For someone who's dead, you have been very fortunate.”
Compared to you, I am.
None of his associates knew Shamees lived on a constant sleep deprivation. While his outward serenity and calm have by far fooled everyone, his physician was a different story. Shamees did not really try to hide it. It was perfectly natural to set aside sleep for work...but maybe not when it goes on for three weeks. Having endured sleeplessness and strenuous tasks since his childhood, his ability to stay awake for an extreme period of time was – as his physician put it – “insane.” As his military background was no secret, Shamees explained that he simply did not want to have nightmares. Voices and images he could not decipher haunted him the instant he closed his eyes and he suffered confusion whether he was even awake or not. Unsurprisingly, he garnered extra pity from his little story although Shamees did not really find his situation sad. There were, after all, people out there with worse fate than his. He simply had to walk through the path set on him. There was no space for complains in a world with no options to take.
And now he had to face the dastard ghosts attacking his psyche. He could never get them out of his head but talking to please the souls elevated their assaults, lightened his head, set him slightly at ease. None of the denizens of Pokemon Tower was a slain creature Shamees personally knew but one way or another, their fate here had been because of him. Casualties of war. A chain of events, a domino effect on everyone's lives. Fate.
Tula, his Mismagius, faded into the air lurking above tombstones. Vrscika, his Dusknoir, was on his other side, the orb of his scarlet eye whirling in search of lost souls. The Mienshao's were positioned outside the tower as a watch and Simba and Mina were left in his house.
His wandering eyes made a stop to a fresh bouquet of flowers offered before a tombstone, which had an erect photograph of a Bellossom.
Daffodils. Shamees recognized the flower. They were golden flowers, a reminder of the glowing sunshine passed on from person to person. Shamees hated it.
Tula and Vrscika circled around him. The fire on the candles' wicks flickered eerily casting grotesque shadows on the white marbled floor and the voices began to speak.
Who are you?
“A legitimate murderer,” he mumbled, words barely any louder for the still contemplating silence. “And you?”
A victim of war started by your senseless ambition.
“I have none. I was merely appointed.”
Don't you dare deny the deaths by your hands.
He looked away from the tombstone, eyes cast down. “...that's right.”
You are aware.
“Completely. I..would rather not have...done this,” he said with difficulty. “I don't want to have anything to do with this.”
Then leave...stop fighting.
He'd been told of that many times. “I already told you why, why I cannot.” He massaged his eyes with a hand, blinking wearily. Each time he closed his eyes, he feared he would fall asleep and sink in another nightmare. Shamees then noticed pink ribbons pinned to the bouquet. “Contest Ribbons?”
My Trainer and I were Coordinators.
“That's...terrible.”
How dare you! You wouldn't understand -
Shamees mildly shook his head. “I wish you and your Trainer hadn't gotten involved. I admire Pokemon Coordinators, maybe envy them a little. If I had the chance to choose, I would pick to be a Coordinator where I can fight for something else other than human conflicts.”
The voice was silent. Shamees inwardly sighed. All he knew was to fight. When he learned fighting could be used for other than killing, he was drawn to the idea out of interest; however, he knew more than to hope, to believe. He could never be one. He had no right to choose his fate. But it slightly comforted Shamees. At least the only thing he knew how to do could after all make people happy as well.
“For someone who's dead, you have been very fortunate.”
Compared to you, I am.
***************
ooc; gah, why does my muse always abandon me at the end of my posts Dx the “conversation” with the “ghost” totally screwed up when I wrote it down lololol. Well here we go! *runs off to do reply with her other threads*
-/six hours of sleep-
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[/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-size: 45px; color: #E7E1CD; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -8px;]let me save you[/style][STYLE=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 12px; margin-top: -10px; color: #CEC6AA; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase;]to redeem myself[/style] [STYLE=font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; width: 340px; text-align: justify; background-color: #6E6E6E; padding: 17px; color: #000000; margin-top: 8px; opacity: 0.9;]Alyssa’s cerulean eyes searched the many tombstones in the room. To her, they almost seemed to have piled up on one another, to have practically doubled since the last time she was there in the tower. She couldn’t see as well in the dark as she could, had there been better light. She had been looking for the names of her grandparents. However, something told her she would not find them here. Nor the loyal companions they had been buried with. At least, she hoped they’d been buried with their pokemon. I’d want to be buried with mine if we die… she thought silently, her hand sub-consciously brushing against the pokeballs at her belt. They’re my dearest friends… she thought, glancing down at Daybreak. Nobody in this world is more important to me than them..