Post by Noctis Corvo on Sept 11, 2015 3:13:45 GMT
It was strange really, the feeling of getting tired of the voices in your own head. When it all started Noctis didn't really know what to think. His new body felt foreign, like it wasn't quite his. It wasn't, he had designed it to be its own character. Slightly taller than his normal self, some dark disfigurements such as scars and stitching, even forgoing higher health and strength for more magic abilities. Its not like he was going to complain at the time. It was all going to fit into his master plan for this character. It was when he found himself suddenly in the body of the character that things went wrong. His normal short brown hair was replaced with long, messy black and dark violet mop, his body felt slightly more frail. At the time he had rushed to the nearest mirror, tripping on his way to find himself in the body of the very madman he had designed. The emaciated figure, the torn robes, the strange eyes with dark purple coloring to match the miasma he had chosen to wield, his body, cut apart and stitched back together with thick black threads.
The worst part was the voices. Cut. Maim. Kill. No. It's not me. Cut. Stitch. Experiment. No, I refuse! CUT. TORTURE. KILL.
"NO!"
The outburst was sudden and brought him out of his own thoughts. He looked around at the world around him, letting the cool air caress his face, the loose stitching on the edge of his mouth tickling as it moved with the midnight air's gentle touch. He stood there, looking about him on the street. How long had he been here now? How long would he continue like this? There must be a way out. He stared down at his hands, the hands he had created for the sole purpose of dark experiments.
Knowledge. Power. Understanding. Control. They would be his in time.
Noctis looked up at the sky, staring at the stars, loosing himself in his thoughts.
The worst part was the voices. Cut. Maim. Kill. No. It's not me. Cut. Stitch. Experiment. No, I refuse! CUT. TORTURE. KILL.
"NO!"
The outburst was sudden and brought him out of his own thoughts. He looked around at the world around him, letting the cool air caress his face, the loose stitching on the edge of his mouth tickling as it moved with the midnight air's gentle touch. He stood there, looking about him on the street. How long had he been here now? How long would he continue like this? There must be a way out. He stared down at his hands, the hands he had created for the sole purpose of dark experiments.
Knowledge. Power. Understanding. Control. They would be his in time.
Noctis looked up at the sky, staring at the stars, loosing himself in his thoughts.
