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Creative Arts and Media => Creative Writing => Topic started by: scarypuppy on June 01, 2008, 11:59:10 PM

Title: Clad In Embers.
Post by: scarypuppy on June 01, 2008, 11:59:10 PM

As per my previous serious statement, this story is still a work in progress.It will be a Gothic Fantasy Tale, Following the musings, halucinations and experiences of a man who is slowly dying from an unknown disease.The Time line is mixed.while structures, clothing and certain themes will follow Victorian to Post World War 1 Styles others will be modern or futuristic, such as the machines the Man is hooked up to, or the contraptions he sees in his medication Riddled dreams.This is one of the few stories in which I will accept requests to be a character.the Character is known simply as Howard.Also, keep this name in mind, its a character that Howard will see, though not speak to. "Thomas"

(http://www.thefurryforum.com/forums/Themes/FFCustom/images/warnwarn.gif) Stop necroing topics!

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: flames on June 02, 2008, 12:03:38 AM

Sounds interesting...

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: Dr. Strange on June 02, 2008, 12:39:12 AM

I agree, sounds sexy Master.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: scarypuppy on June 06, 2008, 12:35:58 AM

Updating Soon.
Posted on: June 03, 2008, 01:14:06 PM

---

Accepting Character Applications.

If you want to become a character in this story, submit Your fursona, Weither you would like to be represented as an Anthro or Manifestation, and a bit about YOU, NOT YOUR FURSONA, such as intrests, Fears, Dreams, Psychological state.

I'll do you justice.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: Dr. Strange on June 06, 2008, 12:40:07 AM

does that count me?

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: scarypuppy on June 06, 2008, 12:53:43 AM

Aye, it does.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: Dr. Strange on June 06, 2008, 01:07:25 AM

Ok then, let's see...

Samantha
15
5'4
Green eyes
Long, curl brown hair
Deep black fur with red ears, paws, stomach and tail
Purple bruises on left thigh, right arm, left shoulder, and right cheek.
And...
Wearing: Black tee with 'I Bite' across chest, faded tight blue jeans, black worn boots that look like thieves boots xP

Anthro
Fears: Being alone, thrown out like trash once more, and becoming like Johnnie boy. (PM me if you're curious enough to delve that deep)
Dreams: marrying Creeping Death someday soon (mutual), being paid to write poetry, and living like I should.
Psychological State: Slightly deranged; meaning completely insane :P

(get on IMVU, I want to talk, please?)

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: scarypuppy on June 06, 2008, 03:01:09 AM

To all People Applying for Character Status, here are the ground rules.

You give me permission to represent your CHARACTER, in my story, therefore how i interpret them is my personal Poetic License, and my Property, you cannot ask me to modify them, however you may ask me to remove them.

And, No more Posts NOT RELATING to the Story, which I will be posting Next time I get on.

Also, The "Theme Song" For this story is "Could Tell a Love" by Bless the Fall.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: scarypuppy on June 07, 2008, 01:35:15 AM

Embers is turning out to be one of my most difficult stories to write, besides Neverwere, So its taking longer than I had previously thought.

Last Delay, next time I log in, I'll have the story done.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: Dr. Strange on June 07, 2008, 04:50:29 PM

Not as easy as you thought, is it? *giggles* Just teasing.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers. (Working Title)
Post by: scarypuppy on June 10, 2008, 12:09:28 AM

Clad in embers.
Chapter one.

“Mr. Howard, I don’t know how to say this….” Everything seemed colorless, drenched in a tidal wave of a blackness that he couldn’t describe. The doctor’s face was a wide grin that never moved, with his eye sockets nothing more than bloody orifices that had once contained eyes. A maniacal laughing echoed through the room as he slowly paced to and fro before the doctor’s twisted and distorted desk. He felt his hands bleeding from every pore, his skin feeling as if it were made of nothing but the scarlet fluid. He tried to hide his face, to protect it from what he was witnessing, from the horrific vision playing before his eyes, but each attempt left his face soaked in blood and his mind slipping deeper and deeper into madness. Soon the doctor was levitating, his grin even wider now, the teeth crooked and broken ivory fangs that stretched longer and longer. His mouth opened and an inhuman scream uttered forth, so daemonic that he was forced to scream with it, in disbelief and fear, his eyes being sewn shut by the fleshy threads that erupted from the corroded mass that was once the doctor’s hands, but now was just a collective of loose tissue and bone. “Mr. Howard, Your psychosis is being caused by a serious progression….” The doctor crept forward on pointed legs resembling those of a spider, his head splitting down the middle to reveal a single, unblinking eye, “A progression….” The nightmarish form repeated this over and over, taunting him again and again by never revealing the name of his sickening state. “Forsaken is he who knows not what ails him.” Howard forced bone up into the empty space where his hands once were and grabbed at the human thread that was laced between his eyelids. The beast chortled and birthed a second head from the monstrosity that was its being; the head of the doctor it previously was, “Of the embers.” He tore, as hard as he could, and felt them give way, taking a portion of his face with them, his eyes now forever open. “WHY SHALL I SEE THIS VISION OF EVER INCREASING DEMENTIA UNTO ETERNITY!?” the doctor let out yet another bout of laughing, his coat opening to reveal his ribs extended outward like the maw of a mythical beast, each elongating and curling as they came into contact with Him. He shook his head and tried to close his eyes, cover them with something, but to no avail. The doctor said again, in his ever calm tone, “Mr. Howard, the embers of carthage have descended upon you.” Howard screamed, his flesh being stripped from the bone, his eyes evaporated by the harshest of lights from within, an outreached hand grasping him by his scalp and pulling, dragging him towards the yawning nothingness of the light, “WHY HAS THIS COME TO PASS!” as he felt the cold embrace of the void, he came to, his skin intact, his body whole.
His Disease Alive.
A single dim light shined down from the upper catwalks, a low hum of activity from the orderlies and nurses observing him filled the echoing chamber he was occupying. His bed was centered on a platform within a spherical room that was only accessed by either a door cut into the wall or by the steep metal handles that served as makeshift ladders for emergencies. Howard pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes, feeling the sting from the pressure. He leaned back on his palms and slowly opened his eyes, their bloodshot state revealing his lack of sleep. An orderly from above spoke into one of the horns hooked to the upper platform railing, “Good Morning Patient 813, how are we?” Howard shouted up from his uncomfortable lair, “I’m feeling fine, and you?” “Just great, better to see that you are still lively, we thought we were going to lose you yesterday.” Howard forced a smile and saluted the odd curio that was the orderly. Orderlies in the Vigilant Halls medical treatment facility were strange sights to look upon. Their necks seemed unnaturally long and armored by a flexible rubber stocking that cupped their oval heads and braced their broad shoulders. Their arms were abnormally long as well; their fingers dancing with every task they took on, whether it be filing, sorting medicine or even checking the automated services throughout the facility. Their bodies were lacking in curvature and definition due to their uniformity. Their outfit consisted of durable leather composite that was fastened into panels with the use of large metal clasps and buckles. Their arms and shoulders were protected by tightly wound leather straps that replicated overlapping layers of sinew and had small portions of metal plating on specific points. He could feel the thickness of the walls surrounding him, the soundproof glass with ornate and spiraling ironworks to disguise the ugliness of the structure’s true purpose. The halls resounded with any footfall that passed through them and alerted all to any minor break in the all consuming silence that held a grim hold on the minds of the unfortunate beings within. Howard hopped out of his bed and trotted around his confined space a bit, hearing the approving murmurs of his observers. His run was interrupted by the entrance of a stitcher, a clipboard held up before its face. “Mr. Howard, please be seated.” Howard walked on the balls of his feet while returning to his bed, to try and keep some semblance of balance and coordination, though he felt like he might collapse with the adding of a single ounce of pressure upon his feet. The stitcher hummed an odd tune and put the clipboard down on his bed, revealing its shielded visage. Stitchers consisted of metal appendages that were deployed upon discovery of an injury or, in his case, the administering of medication and other chemicals he couldn’t name. The stitcher trudged forward and placed a palm on Howard’s forehead, humming as gears and cogs within him turned and clinked while he ran a check up on Howard. Howard strained as he attempted to resist the urge to pull away; he always despised the feeling of these things boring into his mind and seeing every sick dream and disease induced nightmare. “My my, your hallucinations are becoming more severe.” He gritted his teeth as the feeling of needles pricking and piercing him overtook the portion of his skin that the automaton was holding, “tsk tsk, such a shame, you were coming along just fine without the anti-hallucinogens. A whirring noise erupted from underneath the plastic cover that kept all the stitcher’s instruments from spilling out, and within a second, a fully loaded syringe and several snaking wires had emerged and were streaming toward him. He felt the cold needle come into contact with his skin and enter, releasing its cocktail of medication meant to keep him from night horrors. The stitcher ‘sighed’ and withdrew all wires and instruments, turning his back and exiting the room, the door locking behind him. Howard felt his hands curl inward toward himself as the drug took effect, draining him of all energy and thought, his body slumping over onto his bed. An orderly called down through the horn, “Pleasant thought patterns are the first step to recuperation.” Howard laughed to himself as his eyes fluttered shut.
Howard felt a cold breeze overcome him, something he hadn’t felt in ages. His eyes opened to reveal that he was no longer in the confines of his cold and isolated cell, but instead he was in a vast open field of strange purple and white striped flowers. He stood and felt his feet sink into the soft earth, his bare feet coming into contact with the roots of the plant life around him. “Great place to wake up from a drug induced sleep.” He made his way towards the edge of the field and pushed off of the ground with all his might, to no avail. The embankment sprung up several stories and descended as Howard slid back down to the ground. He resigned to his defeat and turned back to the field to search for any other way out of the beautiful yet enclosed ocean of flora around him. “Howwie….” Howard froze dead in his tracks and slowly became rigid as he heard the daemonic choir of voices slowly croak the childish contortion of his name. “York, it’s been too long.” Howard turned slowly and saw the crouched impish forms of the creatures that called themselves, collectively, York. They stood at barely four feet high, their short stubby legs serving no other purpose beyond balance. Their arms were large and bulky with folds of flesh that peeled and contorted like the tentacles of octopi. Their fleshy fingers dug into the ground as they prepared to move forward in their loping gait. Their skulls were concave in the rear with outward spiraling plates of skull bone, and bulbous towards the front, sores marking almost every square inch of skin. The Creatures slowly slinked forward, swinging their lower halves forward the way a primate would, and cackled his name over and over, “howwie, you left us behind the last time we met.” Howard shook his head in disbelief and sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him, the creatures keeping a brisk pace with him, “Howwie, Come back Howwie, WHY DID YOU LEAVE US BEHIND HOWWIE!?” Howard felt the ground beneath him grasp at his feet and attempt to drag him down, but he managed to keep his feet high enough in the air after every step that the roots never took full hold. He saw his opening, a small break in the embankment surrounding the fields caused by a strange looking puddle of maroon fluid. He pumped his arms for speed as he pushed himself forward, nearly toppling over when one of his pursuers latched onto his calf, digging its broken fangs into the tender muscle. Howard cried out in pain and stumbled, but managed to keep himself upright as he slowly limped toward the slowly shrinking puddle. The creatures all leapt at him at the same time, howling his name as they closed in. Howard took his chance and pushed with as much strength as he could muster and sailed through the air towards the suddenly bubbling fluid.
It was a feeling similar to breaking a thin sheet of ice atop a frozen lake, a familiar feeling of overwhelming pressure and strange weightlessness that spread over his entire awareness. He opened his eyes and felt the sting as the maroon water seeped into his vision. He struggled to swim forward but felt no movement and instead began to spin in circles, trying to grab anything that might just offer him some refuge. His hand caught the thin edge of what he assumed was another portal of sorts and frantically gripped it as he pulled himself toward it, hoping to escape the directionless abyss that had encompassed him.
He broke the surface and held himself up at waist level, coughing and gagging as he took in several deep breathes of the chilling air around him. Howard tried to blink his vision clear and tilted his head up towards the sky. As he began to see with more clarity, he saw towering structures that extended to and above the clouds, disappearing beyond the sheets of gas that blanketed the sky. He pulled himself free of the portal and felt his bare feet prick in pain as he slowly walked through the frozen streets. All the buildings were derelicts; their windows were either non-existent or shattered and lying in the street, adding more hazards to Howard’s unprotected feet. Some buildings were in such a state of decay that their insides had collapsed, dragging tons of brick and wood down to the ground floors. Howard shivered at both his bleak surroundings and at his lack of warmer clothes or any shelter. He swallowed hard and Shouted, hoping there was someone to answer him, “Hello, I need assistance, is there anyone here…..anywhere?” His voice raced through the empty streets as if they were searching for a person to hear them, yet they quickly died out and passed into obscurity within the tomblike streets. “Is there no reply?” Silence. Howard clenched his jaw as he felt his body actually burn from the cold, his clothes keeping him from feeling any of his body’s natural heat. He saw a faded sign reading ‘boutique’ and quickly plodded his way through the gaping hole where a door had once been. He held himself tightly and tried to fight his body’s cramping as he searched for some other apparel. It was useless, for all clothes that had been within had either been looted or long since gone to tatters and rags upon their shelves. Once again he ventured into the dead city, his body in agonizing pain from the cold and the previous strain he had put onto his diseased body. Howard continued along a wide thoroughfare and took notice of the abandoned cars lining the streets. He checked several and found them all locked with their engines dismantled. Howard leaned against one of the age and ash crippled vehicles and fought back tears, coupled with the feeling of utter isolation and loneliness.
Howard wandered into a nameless square structure that was completely devoid of windows and slowly wandered through the ransacked rooms one by one. In one room he was lucky enough to find a large black trench coat that was intact and also had a packet of cigarettes of a nameless brand.  The only means of light Howard had available was the end of the cigarette hanging on the edge of his lip. His footfalls were muffled by the carpet of discarded refuse and papers that lay upon the floor. The hall ended abruptly at a large steel door and a side room that read, “Quarantine Security Station.” Howard stepped into the room and quickly rummaged through the cabinets of the desk that was pressed against the wall below the counter, finding a metal flashlight and a revolver with only two unused rounds. “Good use this is to me.” Howard looked over the revolver and decided it was in well enough shape for future use, if he needed it. He tucked the revolver away into an inner pocket and slapped the flashlight against the palm of his hand, pushing the metal flick switch repeatedly as he tested its beam. The flashlight flickered on and shone through the doorway he had just passed through, shining onto the slime encompassed form of an unidentifiable being. Howard Let out a startled shout as he braced himself against the wall behind him, his hand shaking heavily as the creature stood silent. The thing stood at easily over six feet tall, it had to tilt its head heavily to even fit in the door frame. Though it had no distinguishing features, the thing gurgled and moaned like a feral human in torment. It lunged suddenly at Howard, spitting a globule of strange fluid ahead of itself. Howard barely avoided collision with the projectile, diving down toward the desk near the counter. The globule hit the wall with a wet, “SLAP” and hissed, burning through the already worn wood of a posting board attached to it. The other collided with a smaller desk and slumped over in a slightly crouched position. Howard scrambled over the desk and through the window that led into the hallway, being careful not to step on the trail the thing had left behind. Howard rushed into the hall and turned the flashlight on; revealing several more of the things slouched against the walls around them, moaning with outstretched arms, thin finger bones apparent through their ‘skin’. He stumbled back to the steel door that held either hope of escape from his pursuers, or send him straight into a den of even more. He leapt over the trail of the first creature quickly, and was almost grabbed by it when it lunged out of the darkness of the office. It rammed into the wall and seemed to sink slightly into the material, effectively stalling it while Howard struggled with the stiff steel door. He managed to get it open a creak when another globule splatted against the steel, the metal corroding and peeling. “Damnit!” He pushed harder and wedged himself between the frame and the door itself, shoving with the heels of his hands. The door opened a bit more, allowing him to slip through into another section of the darkened building. He placed the flashlight on the floor and tugged as hard as he could manage on the door to put it back into place so as to provide a barrier. The flashlight rolled on the floor and hit a fallen wooden beam from the ceiling, making it lift up slightly and point directly at Howard in his struggle. Suddenly, thin, slime covered fingers reached in through the slight opening, much of its original mass scraped off by the door. Soon several hands and arms had made their way through the opening and were all scraping along the door, sounding like the nails of a beast on a slick surface. Howard Clenched his jaw and eyes and tugged backwards with all his might in one final pull. The door slammed shut, breaking the fragile boney limbs of the creatures and sending them falling limply to the floor. Howard gripped at his chest and slowly caught his breath, crouching down to scoop up the flashlight. He drew the revolver and brought it up to bear, shining the flashlight into the darkness before him. Countless cells lined both sides of the debris littered hallway; all of their doors still sealed shut. He advanced slowly, glancing into every other cell. One cell hung open; its door laying dented and smashed on the floor. Howard pressed his back against the wall and crept towards the opening, gripping the revolver tightly, and turned the corner into the room, checking the room with a quick sweep of the light. The light slowly glided across the cramped room, nothing out of the ordinary, until it reflected back on a well shined black boot. Howard held the light on the boot and gulped, looking up to where he assumed a person’s face would be. He moved the light up, and revealed the rest of the unknown. The body sat straight in the metal chair upon which it was placed, one of its hands holding a wine glass up in a toast. The other was placed flat across the table, the fingers slowly tapping the surface. The Head was missing the top half, only the bloody, broken bottom half left to gape at him. Howard stood in the doorway and looked over the macabre scene to which he was witness. He lowered the revolver and stood calmly, keeping the light on the body, “do you speak?” The fingers stopped tapping and slowly curled up into a fist on the table, and a disembodied voice emerged from everywhere and nowhere, “With neither tongue nor mouth.” He walked in and sat on the spare chair next to the table, sighing deeply, “For some reason I fear you less than the oozing monstrosities out there.” The body’s shoulders rose and fell repeatedly, mimicking a hearty laugh, “The deaths of others holds no bearing on you, only the prospect of your own shakes you.” Howard snorted and ran his hands through his slicked back hair, gripping the back of his head firmly. The voice chuckled, “Believe my words be lies all you wish, for what am I but a corpse.” Howard leaned back in the chair and looked the body over, it’s hand raising higher in a renewed toast, “Questions mount, and none you can answer.” “try me boy, and see why your words lack backing.” He coughed and sat up straight, scratching at his right ear before returning his hand to the revolver he held between his legs, “Why have I not awoken from these delusions.” “Your reality subdues your mind with concoctions and fairytales that not even I have experienced, You may still consider your mind the biblical rock, but your body is the slightest of straw, poised to break at a moment’s notice.” Howard shook his head and tapped his temple with the cool barrel of the revolver, “For what purpose is weaponry in a world of dreams and nightmares.” “You were once a man of war, treading upon the broken and bloodied bodies of your foes, claiming God and Country as your redemption for such deeds.” Howard shot a glance over at the other, his arms were folded across his chest and his head, or what remained of it, was turned to face him, “Even in the grasp of a dream, your mind holds power and safety within the chamber of such objects.” “You make no sense, this is my dream, my world, fear of death and harm should be dispelled immediately, not allowed to even so much as make me sweat.” “Aye, but then again, this is not your dream, this is your sickness’ dream, its clouded prison to which you are imprisoned till the day you no longer draw air nor gaze upon the world of the living.” Howard stood and pressed the revolver harshly against his head, gritting his teeth as his finger slowly applied pressure to the trigger, “Your efforts shall be for naught.” “Be gone you petty ghoul.” The body stood abruptly and held a stance akin to anger, “You speak with the tongue of an ignoramus, you deny the words spoken to you, you deny the truth clawing for your flesh, you deny all but your almighty.” “If that be all between conciousness and continuation of this conversation, so be it, damn him as well.” Howard pulled the trigger, to no effect. He opened his eyes and panted, closing his eyes again and pulling once more. Again, no effect, he let out a howl and pulled the trigger several more times, each without the desired result. He collapsed to his knees and wept quietly. The body threw the table to the side and picked howard up by the collar of his scavanged cloak, “Coward, Child, Worm, you be not of man, you are beneath the simplest of creatures.” The body tossed him out into the hallway, his flashlight slamming into a wall and shattering, the numerous shards of heated glass flying through the air. Howard climbed to his feet and held the revolver in front of him, trying to see in the pitch black. Footsteps echoed through the utter silence around him, a deep breathing coming from every corner, every crack, “What say you, be you of sterner stuff, that you shall not cower and whimper like a beaten hound.” A fist impacted between Howard’s shoulderblades, sending him sprawling, still gripping the revovler. Howard fumbled through his cloak for the few matches he had gained, and struck one against the ground, spinning and holding it up to reveal his tormenter. The body leaned over him oppresively, his arms held out wide and his fingers contorted. From the stump that was the lower skull, several skull tops emerged, each fused to the other with much skin and muscle either slowly crawling across the ivory structures or solidifying completely, forming a patchwork of tissue. Howard shut his eyes and turned his head away, swinging the revolver around and landing a solid hit to the beast’s bead, shattering a portion of one of the newley developing skulls. The beast let out a horrific scream and thrashed about; clanging metal and spilling matter could be heard as it rammed into everything and ripped at whatever was around it. Howard tossed away the burnt match and drew another, lighting a cigarette and bringing the revolver to eye level, his slightly expanded field of view glowing maroon from his makeshift light. Howard swept his weapon from side to side, waiting for the beast to make another attempt. He took a deep draw and doubled his light for a precious second. Just as the light receeded he saw the beast jump forward, following the fading light. Howard pulled the trigger and this time got the satisfying kick as the round discharged. Howard heard the round hit the beast, the ‘Whump’ of it sounding solid and final. He took in one more draw and saw the beast leaned against one of the sections of wall, gripping its midsection and slowly gasping for air. Howard spat out the cigarette and spoke, “You tell of me being a coward, a man who is not capable of action, does this still hold true to you, BEAST!?” Raspy, gurgling breathing localized howard’s target, the visualization of it heaving forming in his mind. A second, shrill voice spoke loudly, “You see not what is before you, I am ageless.” Howard stepped slowly, keeping his weapon leveled, “show yourself.” The voice cackled, “I need not do so, for I am all that you see.” Howard lit a match and turned, running down the hall with the revolver held out. A single window was visible at the end, with a bright blue light glowing through. “Futility is the only quality of MY Reality.” Howard tucked his arms into his chest and jumped, crashing through the panes of filthy glass and being cut by the jagged ends. He rolled onto the cold pavement, unable to stand or even move. “What is it you want to do, escape?” He struggled to even lift his head up, but the strain was unbearable. A dark cloud descended from the sky and quickly formed into a single black mass of continuous movement. Two red slashes broke through the cloud, with a fanged grin spreading as well, “Forsaken is he who knows not what ails him, remember Howard, your last nightmare?” Howard shouted at the top of his lungs and cried out as he felt his forearm crack from the pressure. The cloud shifted and swirled into itself, and from it emerged a being of glowing energy, with liquid platings of what seemed to be skin containing the pulsating light within. He was dressed in a toga of atmosphere, his hair a swirling storm of the blackness of space. In his right hand was a Roman gladius, stained in what appeared to be blood. “From the fires, above the ashes, birthing the billowing smoke…” Howard felt himself finally able to move and rolled to the right as the celestial deity brought his blade down. “Howard, it is meaningless to even attempt to evade me.” He slid the sword’s edge against his finger, splitting it down the center completely, yet no blood flowed. “I’ll have your mind, and leave your carcass for the mongrels” “A devil with no name is no great enemy, for what is not known can be forgotten.” He grinned and walked towards Howard slowly, dragging his tool of death along the ground which split into fissures. “Clad in Embers and Armed in Ruins, I am what smoldered in Carthage.” “Only the mindless speak in verse.” “The embers of Carthage are upon you!” Howard Shook his head and crawled backwards, away from the entity which called for his doom. He lifted the revolver and shouted, “I’ll leave nothing to be mourned”. A black fog snaked along the ground behind Howard, a childish laughing rising in volume till it had reached him. The sickness halted and scowled, “You dare even approach me, hilarity?” A head and broad shoulders solidified and rose from the fog, a wide-set grin playing across the new manifestation’s face. “I have a title, SIR, it’s THE Hilarity, besides, I can never resist causing you annoyance, oh malevolent master of….well nothing to be truly honest.” The sickness growled and raised his sword above his head, his arms pulsating brightly, energy flowing into his weapon. The fog swirled around Howard and enveloped his being, the voice whispering, “Just relax, and let me take care of this.” Howard felt his hands clench tighter around the grip of his firearm, his bones creaking from some unseen stress. A gray crystal cocoon formed around his arms and hands, as well as the weapon itself. The sickness brought his weapon crashing down without warning, the blade piercing the protective shroud the other manifestation had created. “Ow, damn, that hurt, alright you ready kid?” “I have no idea what it is I’m to be ready for!” The crystal cocoon around his arms burst brightly with a golden light that broke apart the shroud around him. Howard’s vision cleared and revealed that his revolver was aimed directly at the sickness’ heart. “NO!” “HAHAH, YEAHP!!!” A massive surge of energy shot through the revolver and disintegrated the top half of the sickness’ body, leaving only a charred pair of legs that kicked and twitched on the floor. Wisps of smoke suffocated the air around him, his coughing mingling with the erratic laughter of the strange manifestation. “Did you see that, wow, I didn’t even think I could do that.” Howard lay on the floor completely, “you speak like you’re a child of 4 years of age.” “yeah…well…” the fog rolled to Howard’s feet and compressed into a ball, then spread out two feet. A slim figure emerged from the fog with long hair that obscured any view of his face. An emerald vest clung tightly to his torso, the pinstriped maroon dress shirt underneath having sleeves that were too long and hung over his hands. His legs seemed to be covered by slacks, but at times would waver and swirl into tendrils of smoke. The manifestation tossed the bangs out of his eyes to show his wide grin, his bright green eyes shining in the moonlight. “I heard your little exchange back in the isolation wing, very forceful, you should be a speech writer.” Howard stood and held his left arm, “Why are you even here?” “You know, for such a well spoken guy, you’re a complete dick.” “You have yet to answer my question.” The manifestation smiled and extended his left hand while he bent at the waist, “Mr. The Hilarity, in the…uhmm…ah…well….not flesh so much as fog…or is it smoke…” “I get the jist of what you mean.” “Good, because I’m horrible at explaining myself.” Howard looked up at the sky, the buildings all dissolving down to the ground. “I see I’m waking up.” “Man.” The Hilarity kicked his foot at the ground, which spread out into more fog, “I thought we were going to have more time to get to know each other.” Howard shook his head and closed his eyes, “You’ll see me soon, I’m sure of it.” “Well...alright then, bye!”
Howard awoke to a more familiar face. “Welcome back to consciousness.” His friend Joseph stood next to his bed, his military uniform crisp and clean, trousers and tunic perfectly pressed. Howard sat up slowly and shook his head, “Didn’t know people were aware that I was still alive.” “Only those who care.” Howard nodded slowly and slid off of his bed, steadying himself on his friend’s shoulder, “well THAT, was a boldfaced lie.” Joseph laughed and patted him on the back, nearly sending him to the floor. “Sorry, forgot you’re still a bit weak.” “don’t worry about it, I’d be better if I got some actual food once and a while.” The pair stood in the hallway for a long while, speaking, telling each other the news of the world outside, and inside. “And how is Allysa, have you yet to propose?” Joseph wiped at the corners of his mouth with his thumb and index finger, “I proposed, just before my last tour, she accepted.” “that’s great news, why are you not out with your soon to be bride, instead of visiting with some bedridden wretch.” He flicked Joseph’s cap off his head and laughed, holding his sides. Joseph took a deep breath and looked out into nothing, “Im being sent to the southern islands, a territorial war has broken out with us and the bronze empire.” Howard bit his lip and looked at his friend for the longest time, finally placing his hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll be fine, you’ve returned countless times from other conflicts, why should this be any different?” Joseph hung his head and wringed his hands, “I remember you saying the same thing to York.” Howard retracted his hand and looked at Joseph harshly, “Your not York, are you?”
 Joseph crossed his arms and stood next to Howard while they watched the violet sun set off to the north from the facilities’ roof . “How much time did the doctors give you?” “They’re unsure, so far it is too early for them to determine.” Howard looked over at Joseph and smiled, “either way, I believe I’m going to have some unique times here.” “How, your locked up inside some sterile, claustrophobic room never to see the sun unless you’re lucky enough for someone to pass through and let you out.” Howard shook his head and spat over the side of the roof. “You give horrible encouragement.” The sun set slowly, stars screaming through the atmosphere and dissipating after a few seconds. Howard, just for a second, thought he saw the sickness descending from the vacuum of space. With The Hilarity right behind.

Clad In Embers, Chapter one, sort of an introduction, the other installments wont be so, final, at the end.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: scarypuppy on June 11, 2008, 10:29:04 PM

Installments for Clad in Embers will be weekly, most likely on fridays.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: flames on June 13, 2008, 06:07:46 AM

That was a brilliant read. The use of subconcious metaphors, imagination and the whole presentation of Howard's mind was truly wonderful to read. :)

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: scarypuppy on June 24, 2008, 09:26:24 PM

New Installment this Friday.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: Somebody on July 02, 2008, 12:54:07 PM

Wow great read. very well done.

Id like to apply if your still taking people for the story

I will be Tezztor, naturally as a anthro.

My interests are reptiles, video games, war, guitar, Racing, pokemon

My Fears are Spiders, being rejected, Loosing my mate, Dying alone

I dream about stuff usually a mix of Games, war and other macho things, but in a crazy detailed way.

Psychologically Im hateful, mistrusting and spiteful, but I can also be kind, caring and extremely moral. It all depends on whats happening to me.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: scarypuppy on July 02, 2008, 09:33:16 PM

you sound adorable.

Im still taking applications but its a bit tricky now.

So far I only have one Anthro Character in the story, "The Primal"

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: Dr. Strange on July 22, 2008, 12:49:04 PM

ooh! Sounds like one cool anthro. :) How's the story coming along?

oh! And, I'M BAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: scarypuppy on August 30, 2008, 11:59:53 PM

Clad in Embers Chapter 2 (Forgive my spelling)

Howard shook slightly as he stood nude in the crampt shower compartment. He kept his eyes trained on the showerhead and it's monotonous drip, drip, drip as well as what he swore was a continually spreading black rust. He diddnt move, save fore occasionally lifting his hand to brush aside his wet bangs. He felt his chest shudder with every breath, his skin pricked by the cold and his own sense of detachment with everything. The dim light-blue light panel set into the ceiling above him added a feeling of surreality to his already misty view of himself. He watched the next drop plummet to the floor of the shower, watched it as it sailed through the air downward and impacted harshly on the marble tile. He focused on the drop as it struck the floor, noticing that it sent a massive surge of water around him, filling the slightly depressed shower floor up to his heel. He looked up and followed the next, with the same effect. He smiled and watched yet another, his grin disappearing when it froze meer inches from the quickly filling puddle at his feet. He watched it and began to entertain the want to touch it, when he saw the water at his feet begin to swirl and turn a pitch black. He lifted his feet and saw they had been tainted by the inky substance but made no move to leave, instead he watched in his amused state for a bit longer. The drop above the water began to lengthen and elongate at it's center, the water becoming a thin dresslike sheet separating the narrow top from the rounded bottom. The drop began to spin and twirl, changing a strange pink from its center. It was then that Howard realized that the droplet was dancing, and that it had become a miniature dancer, small and graceful above a massive sea of black. He reached back to feel the wall of the shower and saw that it was gone, and that he was standing alone in the center of a massive black lake, with grassy shores on all sides. He shrugged off his suprise and watched the droplet intently as it continued to move, and even fancied he heard a small tune emerging in his head. As the dancer continued to move, the song in his head became louder and more understandable, and he couldnt help humming along with the famiiar lyrics, "So fancy me a petty lad and save yourself a cry, for nothing lasts beyond this point, the Gods all foolish cads." The dancer spun and twirled faster and faster, becoming taller and taller, more defined, gaining apendages and even some facial features. "Say ye not to be accused, of loss of love and degrade my heart, for foolish children know of this place, and Men shall never stray." The dancer began to bound this way and that, her legs becoming sinewy and more alive, her face showing sides of a sly smile. Howard yearned to grasp her, to hold her, to feel her, she was the exact opposite of his world within the sterile prison that he called home, she was vibrant and alive, she was beautiful and different. He brought his leg forward and saw it liquidate as it came into contact with the air. He collapsed in a screaming mess onto his knees, realizing that any movement would come with the same exact result. He kept his eyes trained on the dancer none the less and cried out to her, "Please, Tell me your name!" the dancer let out a soft, musical sigh and continued dancing. Howard lifted himself, straining his muscles and saw even more of himself deteriorate to nothingness. He thrust his arm forward to halt himself from plummeting into the degrading fluid. He looked at the dancer and watched in sadness as she continued to dance in her carefree way. At this time he noticed long tendrils of the black fluid rising from the water, dancing as she was, yet keeping their inhuman appearance. He shouted, "Love, Watch yourself!" but to no avail. She spun in the center of the gathering crowd and ignored the daemonic forms. Howard Cried out in pain and threw himself forward, loosing himself and landing flat on the right side of his face, and as he writhed in his own helpless sorrow, he saw the forms close in around the dancer, their arms linking, their mouths opening and revealing fanged maws that grew larger and larger in anticipation of their meal. Howard Shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to make something happen, but to no avail. As the forms all surrounded the dancer completely, he saw a new singular being rise from their center, a being not wholy of substance. What seemed like her hair was flowing like a dark violet river from a beautifuly shaped head of luminescent light with only a pair of serious and piercing eyes of radiant Gold with specks of the lightest brown throughout. Her slender from was draped in robes of radiant, changing color that continually ran like fresh paint on a new canvas. Her eyes locked on Howard and narrowed, showing contempt mixed with a slight hinting of pity and sorrow. She uttered no words but instead sank back into the huddled crowd of dark beings that had enveloped Howard's beautiful and oblivious dancer. As the last of her shape disapeared, the beings separated and revealed the dancer yet again, but she was no longer that childish hue of pink, now she was drenched in the darkest shroud of red. To Howard's horror she was disemboweled, with her flesh removed from below her breasts to the bottom of her feet. She continued her dance, though now it was more macab then divine, and her eyes opened to reveal that they as well were absent. Howard Shut his eyes and screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to drown out the song which was still playing in his mind, the final verse too unbearable to listen to, "Be gone, from me, you see my faults, and thus you no longer hold with me, a look, meant to, entrance and subdue, your body a plaything and your spirit never gone." He tried to move, any way possible, but found himself still entrapped by the thickening fluid around him. The dancer began to bound towards him, but now in her current state she was no longer a being of attained beauty, she was now a creature of slaughtered wholesomeness, and therefore repulsed rather than entranced Howard. The dancer halted on a single foot, holding in place like a music-box's figurine, and began to slowly lean forward towards Howard, whispering something at a tone so low that Howard was forced to allow her to come close enough that he could see her skin rotting in place. The dancer paused and smiled, her teeth still perfectly white, then spoke in a voice that belonged to a demon rather than a dancer, "Your desires are no longer yours, they are the wants of a being seeking your destruction." at these final words she began to laugh loudly and bounded about on the lake yet again, her flesh slipping free and her bones snapping and shattering. Howard continued to shout at this being, trying to do something in his utter helplesness.
And then, he awoke. Howard looked about him and found that he was slumped against the freezing wall of one of the shower compartments he had occupied at the start of his nightmare. He stood and slowly let himself out of the isolated compartment and looked at his surroundings. The Showers of the Eastern wing of the hospital were massive, at 200 feet long by 100 feet wide, there was enough room for hundreds of people to bathe and still have room to move about. The entire Southern and western walls of the hall were made up of shower compartments like his, while the floorspace of the center of the hall and the norhtern and eastern walls were made up of underground baths and lockers. He walked weakly to his effects locker and dressed slowly, trying to avoid making himself collapse, and crept out into the main hall after he had completed changing. Howard sullenly walked back towards his chambers and looked out a large window at the setting sun. He placed one hand on the thick glass and watched the sun slowly descend, it's light retreating like a beaten army and the darkness quickly filling it's place. Howard grinned and looked towards the sky for the stars. There were none.

WOW, really long time you guys, sorry hah. I should be continuing this story soon, Ive just been extremely busy with personal matters and the like.
Next installment will be twice as long, and will fully introduce the Unknown figure mentioned earlier. Not the dancer, the other one.

Late.

Ex's and Oh's, Emopuppy.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: scarypuppy on September 27, 2008, 06:28:45 AM

(Note, Tierlund, if you read, is a popular word for Nation, Land, Peoples or even in some cases Belief System, in this world of course)

Howard strolled leisurely to his quarters, taking note of a throbbing pain in the back of his head. An orderly followed him for a better part of his walk, continually asking if he was in need of assistance, to which he only replied, "no." After the orderly had let him back into his room, he looked up towards the ceiling, the throbbing pain becoming more and more unbearable with every second. The dim light on the ceiling seemed to dim, if not gain altitude and stretch into the darkening shadows all around it. Howard walked to his cot and placed his hands firmly on it, assuring himself of his substance. the pain continued, making his eyes feel as if they might pop if it continued. He finally submitted to the pain and fell to his knees, looking again at the ceiling which had previously been the catalyst to his current headpains. The shadows around the light seemed to curve, and even thicken towards his rear, and in his current state, he had no intentions of turning in any way. A voice trickled through his stupor, the familiar tone of sarcastic questioning bringing some of his imagination into the light, "Nice place, ever consider carpeting?" "What are you doing in a realm not your own?" "Oh dont mind me, I'm just, well, actually I dont really know what I'm doing." Howard forced his paralyzed body to shift and sit down on the floor, facing a now fully materialized Hilarity leaning against one of the curved chamber walls, "You dont look well, they not give you your meds?" "Oh no, in fact they've doubled my rate, trying to ensure my safety from further manifestations." "Oh, so they still poisoning you." "In so many words." The Hilarity walked, or rather glided forward on his Amorphous appendages that passed for legs. "you should dream more often." "Excuse me?" "Reality is a formality with which you have bedded with for far too long." "Since when did you make use of proper language?" "Since I started ripping lines out of your little head." Howard managed a slight smile as he slowly lifted himself up, the sheer effort sending his head into a spin. The Hilarity toyed with one of the metal instruments left on a nearby table, "they cut you open or sumethin?" "Those are for routine treatment  of my battle wounds." "Ah right, ouch, Shrapnel and a bullet wound, did they ever get that out?" "The shrapnel yes, the bullet not so much." The Hilarity chuckled and threw the instrument at the light of the ceiling, shattering it and sending a shower of sparkling glass towards the ground. The shards however slowed and twirled in place, keeping what remained of their original illuminated state. Having the appearance of a medieval candle-lit cathedral, Howard fell into a slight moment of nostalgia for his religious past, though in his mind no richous God could permit what he has known. The Hilarity was suddenly in his immediate presence, his face downturned and a veil of hair obscuring his face. Howard dared not touch or question The manifestation on it's actions, but instead waited. His patience was soon rewarded by a heavy, if not sorrowful sigh, "you shouldnt think out loud Howard." Howard's eyes widened and gazed skyward, the numerous shards of glass now vanished and replaced by the blinding light of the Embers as it descended from on high, mocking his previous afterthoughts of religion. "You mock my convictions yet force men unto madness?" "Madness is my gift to your kind, seeing as  how you are not far removed from the kindred of mine own." "You speak of nonsense." The Hilarity maintained his silent and rigid stance, not even hinting at signs of acknowledgment or activity beyond 'breathing'. The Embers seemed to tower stories above them now, leaning in to come face to face with Howard, his hollow eyes filling with a strange blackened mass of motion and life that in itself had an unholiness to it. The Embers opened it's maw and uttered forth a phrase known only to those who have experienced the hell of combat, "To Which my body belongs, of this I am sure, tis not mine to bury, but mine to kill, mine to give, mine to destroy and mine to desecrate, and my enemies shall know my utter sorrow by my own actions, I shall defeat, I shall annihilate, I will cleanse, and I will Incinerate, all those who are not of me, nor of my Tierlund." The words that passed his cut and bloodied lips were followed by a hoard of insects and reptiles which swarmed like an unclean army towards Howard. Howard scrambled backwards and was followed by the drifting form of the Hilarity, who came within a hair's length of contact, before parting the veil that concealed him. His face was devoid of eyes, or any optical orifice, and was instead replaced by an extended and horrifically warped set of fangs and canines that moved only slightly, betraying the daemonic visage's tries at fully opening it's mouth. Howard did not retract in fear or disgust, but rather in anticipation for some action by the newly disfigured Hilarity. The Hilarity crept forward, the insects and reptiles being repelled by some invisible force, and once again came within an uncomfortable distance to Howard's own face. The only words escaping the entanglement of ivory were, "Unto Madness doth the spawn of the Highest descend, for he is of corruption and folly, and therefore is not of purity." Howard shut his eyes and numerous bat-wings and angel-wings sprouted from the form of the Hilarity, completely enveloping his form in a fleshy and feathery prism that he felt try to strange him to death. Howard thrashed, and struggled, but soon saw the toothy apparition once again thrust into his view, and became silent as it fully opened and revealed a Light that washed over him like a cool water, on the heels of a shrieking cry that awoke him, yet again, in the world that was his, yet not his.
His mind was once again his prison.

Newest Installment.

Title: Re: Clad In Embers.
Post by: scarypuppy on January 01, 2009, 05:21:55 AM

Never completed.

So long guys, love you all. :-[