Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Blue Rifts

Frog was in the lack of existence, sleeping because she couldn't open her eyes. Knees bent towards the chest and her hands cradling them, Frog settled her cheek against herself. There was nothing around her, and yet it stirred her. Was her promise complete? Why would she think of that, after all these years..

Her legs stretched outward, arms bending and head rotating. She twisted slowly through the empty void in the slowest awakening dance imaginable. Then her eyes opened and they were no more, just as her body was there, and yet not. Then she moved and the void vanished from about her. There was little else but the duty to pursue.

In the desert, an old and mangled tree of white bark and green moss, stood with its branches in a crucified fashion. Branches sprouted from its back and the shape was strangely female-like, with part of the tree's structure a white face. The leaves of the tree had all parted from the branches, except one. It slowly fell upon sand, before it was slept away by the lightest of breezes. Near the base of the tree, a full bottle of something sat on a picnic blanket, while a nearby bullfrog sat and stared at the bottle, croaking idly.

Maxwell continued to struggle a bit before simply give up and rest on the ground. He glared at Metaralis when he picked up his gun. He better not break it or else...

His eye turned to the one holding him down, Delastarh. So he wasn't on... Earth? If they were «sucked» by the rift, was he too in the same case? And what about Ezekiel? Was she sucked too? Was she okay? He needed to find her as quick as possible, if this was a foreign place, then it meant foreign animals, probably dangerous ones.

He groaned and closed his visible eye.
"Alright Alright, my name's Maxwell. Maxwell Rockfield. You don't have to know my job, it's not useful for you. NOW can you free me? This is getting annoying. And now, my business just became more urgent."

Standing in a tree, hidden behind the leaves, Sombreplume was silently resting in his animal form, when the Rift appeared in the sky.
He wasn't surprised at all. He was old enough to have seen everything, it would have taken a extremly excentric soul to surprise him nowadays. However, he soon felt something... differents.

New soul's arrival.

Well, they will always be new souls in this world, people were still giving birth after all. But this time, those souls were from a whole new species.

Poor little things, he thought, they look so lost, so weak... how could they survive in this beautiful cruel world? They'll probably need to be more powerful, way beyond all hopes. Fortunatly, Baron Sombreplume was the man of the situation. He could give them the power to survive in this deadly place... against their soul of course. Everything has a price here.

"But what if the power you give them is TOO powerful for their body too handle?" He said in a tiny voice, before laughing, "Then it'll be their fault. They should have known that powers come with consequences. But enough talking. I have works to do." He answered before opening his big black wings and flying away.

"See? That wasn't so hard," De said.

He looked up toward Meta, and the two men stared at each other, like in a silent conversation. The taller man lifted his eyebrows, and the other's eye twitched in response. Metaralis didn't seem too please with his idea.

"Alright. I'll let you go, but no more pointing guns at people, okay?"

De released Maxwell, and stood up.

"That's for sure. Because I am not giving it back to you until I'm sure you are trustworthy," Meta said flatly.

Delastarh sighed. "Meta, come on..."

"I am only being prudent," he growled between his teeth. "He could have killed you."

"I'm okay. I swear."

"Still keeping it."

Metaralis was a stubborn man.

The longer Nina traveled down the road, the more all of this struck her as odd. The silence, the sign didn't seem entirely in-tact, and this road...as far as she knew, there weren't any gravel roads leading into Phoenix. At least, not the one she knew. Come to think of it, she did recall seeing these things in the sky just before she found herself here. She remembered leaving her home in a panic, grabbing her rifle and running into the streets. There was screaming, then...this silence. Where exactly was she?

Regardless of how she interpreted these events, her legs continued carrying her along the road in the cool desert night. Everything seemed just as she would expect from the barren wasteland of sand, but something seemed to appear a little ways off in the distance. The girl slowed her pace once it came into partial view. Her eyes squinted in attempt to pick out what it was. Was that..."...a tree? Out here?" Now that didn't seem very likely, but she'd be lying if she said it didn't intrigue her. Thus, she ultimately decided to go take a closer look.

It took her a little while to make the hike away from the gravel road and to the distant and only visible sign of life other than herself. However, as she drew closer and the night grew darker, she reached up to pull her goggles down from her forehead and over her eyes. The special lenses allowed her to see better through the darkness, enough to pick out the blanket laid out by the base of the tree as well as what was set upon it. Though, that wasn't what baffled her..For no matter how strong the assumption that someone had been here was, the bullfrog nearby tickled her curiosity a little more. The girl shook her head in disbelief "Okay, I have to be seeing shit..The tree is one thing, but why in the hell are there frogs out here?"..The girl sighed, slumping her rifle off her shoulder and into her right hand, holding it by the butt and using the length of it's barrel to try and prod at the creature whilst still keeping her distance. If this was a mirage, then her guess was this frog would probably be a rock or something. As for the container and the blanket, she wasn't even sure if she was able to trust her senses. After all, even she didn't know how long she had been out here while the sun was still high. She didn't feel exhausted or overheated, but once more...she could never be too sure.

The frog's croaking grew steadily louder as it was neared, hardly shifting its wet eyes to the newcomer to this stakeout. It hopped towards the bottle, which upon closer expection, was filled with sand and something black wiggled within the sand, the bug finding itself trapped by some cruel person's idea of a fun thing to do. But the frog was a patient sort, deciding not to move at the prodding, it's soft stomach giving to the pushes. It was clever, waiting for the most prominent moment to str--and then the frog's tongue hit the glass, the bug still squirming. After that moment, it hopped away a bit, shifting its angle of attack.

The branches of the white tree sway to the wind, sand being swept onto the blanket. Then one branch snapped off and landed on the frog, who was partially daze and found his way out of the campsite with haste. The slow, measured cracking of another branch was followed by its fall. Then lines of black sap seemed to drip out of the eyes of the tree, sticking to the surface to not fully complete the appearance of crying. A ripe line of the buried root burst the ground about it, travelling snarlingly towards the top of the tree, pieces of white bark shrapnel flying outward over the picnic area.

Then the others joined, ripping themselves apart but stopping near the tree's face. Less rapidly, a translucent darkness pushed out of the tree's chest, the tree's face pushing outward with the feminine body of a spirit. The branches behind her became it's partially white wings, the thin lines decorate the otherwise dark lack of substance. The face twisted itself upwards, skeletal hands of white bark lifting to touch the crumbling fingers to her cheeks. And she levitated out of the tree's final grasp, turning shoulders over to wrench itself out, and her eyes remained shut. There she floated above the sand, which wasn't moved by her flight. Frog's hand turned over to the human, her palm mossy and rough with the birch skin. There she stood, hovering in the air.

Once he was finally free, Maxwell get up and tried to get rid of the dirt in his shirt. Of course, it was all dirty now. Maxwell sighed, but when he heard the smaller man, Metaralis, saying he wasn't giving him his gun back, his mood switched.

He turned toward Metaralis quickly, he looked like his only eye was trying to strangle the smaller man.

"Give it back." He said, he voice sounded more like a groan. "Give. Me. My. Fricking. Gun. BACK!!"

If this wasn't for what hapenned earlier, he could have runned tow him and tried to strangle him to death with his bare hands. But Delastarh's presence kind of dissuaded him. He tried to remain calm but still, he looked crazy, his raven hair all messy, and his eye showed all the craziness Maxwell had in him.

"Give it back." He said once again, "Give it back, it's Ezekiel's present. It's mine, not yours, Give it back."

Nina's right eyebrow raised in a subtle twitch as she felt the frog actually give to her curious prodding. It was actually squishy. "Hmm? It's real?" she says softly to herself before promptly lowering to a crouch, setting her gun on the ground beside her as she watched the frog try to get at whatever was housed inside the glass bottle. Her eyes shifted their focus to the container, watching whatever was trapped inside. How it squirmed, likely lacking air..Following her curiosity further, Nina started to outstretch her hand towards the bottle, but suddenly jumped at the swift impact of the frog's tongue striking the side of it. Her eyes went wide "Oookay...here, let me ju-.." she tried to speak, coming inches of the bottle in attempt to free the frogs potential meal before the branch's sudden fall just shy of her hand, striking the frog and sending it fleeing. "Oh god, are you okay?"..Look at her, speaking to a frog. Maybe she was really losing it? No matter. Hearing the next branch start to give then snap swiftly grabbed Nina's attention, effectively removing the amphibian from the forefront of her mind. As it continued to seemingly shred itself to pieces, Nina cautiously stood, grabbing her rifle off the ground and taking a step further away from the tree.

Watching it continue to contort, crack and seep, Nina's hands placed themselves at the ready and prepared to take aim at a seconds notice. Something was definitely not right with either herself or this place she had found herself in. Her eyes flashed to and from every autonomous movement the tree made until she was able to make out it's most notable features. When the drastic transformation ceased, Nina readied her weapon, taking aim at the creature and feeding a round into the chamber with a swift cocking of the pull-bolt. Her nerves went wild. She had never seen anything quite like this in her life, she had no idea if she should shoot and run or..."W-What are you?!"..talk to it. She stood her ground, her feet heavy as if rooted into the sand. Though, as uncertain and shaky as she seemed, the way she had prepared to defend herself appeared very practiced and precise. Nina watched it carefully, her eyes falling to it's hand, waiting to see if this thing would either attack or respond peacefully to her.

"I am not trusting you, and I won't take the chance of us getting shot at the first opportunity," Metaralis said.

Putting himself between them, Delastarh held his hands up. "Okay, okay. Everybody, calm down. We are in the same boat, right now." He looked at his friend. "Come on, it seems precious to him."

Meta stared at him for a whole minute before sighing. "Alright."

He opened the gun, took the munitions out, and handed the gun to Maxwell. He got the gun, but he couldn't hurt them with it. The short man put the munitions in his white jean's pockets.

"Now, can we find a shelter for the night?" he asked, looking at De and completely ignoring Maxwell.

The taller man sighed, rubbing his neck. "Sure."

He knew that Metaralis was really stubborn on not trusting anybody. Something he had been trying to help Meta with. But maybe he was right, this time. That man could have killed him. But he really hoped things would get better. Maxwell had a weapon, something that could come handy in this unknown area. Oh how he was regretting not having his own. Why did it happened the only day he and Meta decided to take a break and enjoy the summer day?

Maxwell took the empty gun from Metaralis' hands and quicly checked on it, as if the man soiled it.

When he made sure the gun was alright, he put it back on his case and looked at the two men that were now ignoring him. He felt all his anger burning deep down in his heart. He was careless and got trapped so easily, he was so ashamed. More, he felt rage toward the smaller man. If he was one of his target, he would have make sure he suffered.

However, he needed to stay composed. Freeing his emotions weren't a good idea, this could worsen the situation. He took a deep breath, and walked toward both men. He placed himself before Delastarh, just in front of Metarlis on the single purpose to annoy him.

"I follow you." he began. "This is not a question, i'll follow you. Your friend..." he said the last word with disgust in his voice, "took away my ammos, my only defense. How can i survive without my g-g-gun?" he finished his sentence but immediatly groaned while taking his head between his hand.

When he took away his right hand and looked at it, it was red from the blood that was coming out from the wound Metaralis made him. He blinked a few time, oh great, NOW he was feeling dizzy.

Before she knew it, it was time to go home. Or else her parents would begin to worry.

Katherine hopped up from her position and began to walk off. The darkness not really affecting her vision.
Maybe she could eventually convince them to let her camp out one night. The forest WAS a safe place after all...as she thought anyway.

Metaralis growled when Maxwell put himself right in front of him. That guy was a real pain. First he tried to kill them, and now he wanted to come with them? The short man opened his mouth to say no, but Delastarh was faster than him.

"I guess it's fair," he said.

Meta was about to argue, but De suddenly frowned with a worried look.

"Hey, are you alright?" the tall man asked Maxwell.

He put a hand on the black-haired man's shoulder. Taking the handkerchief he had in his pocket, De pressed it against the bleeding forehead. Meta threw that rock pretty hard, it was probably because of that.

"I think it would be better to just stay here. We can camp here for the night."

"Or we could go and leave him here," Metaralis said, crossing his arms.

"Meta!" De scolded, still holding the fabric against Maxwell's forehead.

"Alright, alright!" the other man groaned. "I'm going to find wood for the fire, then."

With that, Metaralis walked away toward a bunch a tree. Delastarh sighed. How he was going to do if these two continue to jump at each other's throat?

"My head... It hurts..." Maxwell groaned as the taller man put a fabric on his forehead. "It fricking hurts..."

He felt like a bunch of bells were rigning inside his head together at the same time. That wasn't a good feeling for sure. Keeping the handkerchief on his forehead, he went against a tree and sat down, closing his eye. He tried not to think too much about how he got here, how he will survive, how to hunt, where Ezekiel was...

He opened his eyes and looked at Delastarh. Even if he felt anger toward Metaralis, he didn't felt... anything particular about this man. He had no reason of hating him (he was the one who pointed his gun at him after all.). He also had no reason on liking him too.

"Excuse me..." he said silently to Delastarh, "I have a question.... i ask you this, because i don't want to talk to your other friens, and because you look like you were always together..." He swallowed his saliva and groaned, his wound did really hurt him.

"Have you seen a girl..." he started, reciting his speech as if he was describing someone to a policeman, "Well... She kinda look like a boy at first sight... She has ginger hair, and green eyes. And a lot of freckles too. She is wearing a poncho, a dirty green one. She has a white shirt, and brown pants. She isn't armed, well she had a gun, but she gave me her weapon... that gun. She is discreet, but she would be happy if she saw someone. I have to find her... I need to find her, she would never survive here, all alone. Her name's Ezekiel, Ezekiel Moore, have you seen her?"

Frog hardly moved at the femme's movements, her outstretched hand lifting to touch its fingertips against the mask she wore, her voice seemingly answering the question from a distance not near her lips, "I am." Turning the white, wooden mask to the skies, her arms lifted to turn their palms as if she offered something great to the aboves, "Release me." The pieces of wood tied to her body all collapsed at once, except the mask and its closed eyes.

Frog's much larger self was formed with the translucent darkness, her wings a murky and cold absence. The tree's leftovers were all piled beneath her feet, her body losing its shadow. With this done, she let her arms down slowly and turned her mask to the human below, "You fear me. You wish to attack me." Her hand moved to draw the back of its fingers through the barrel of the gun, past her hands, on its way to her cheek. Where it was the coldest touch that couldn't be felt, moving through her flesh without leaving a trace of it ever doing so, as she spoke, "But I have chosen you, you who has witnessed my birth. Know this; I am and will be."

Nina could only watch this...thing as it spoke into the air. Her hands still firmly placed at the ready with her right index finger placed gingerly on the trigger, fading in and out of temptation to just fire. Though, something kept her from doing so. What exactly did, she didn't know..Perhaps it was solely the fact that this creature wasn't exhibiting any outwardly threatening motions or intentions. Although...her hands did tense when the thing actually reached through her rifle and made it's chilling contact with her face. In fact, her whole spine chilled, her body partially paralyzed as she stared right at this 'thing's' face..

The words spoken took a moment for her mind to register as she tried and failed to logically process what was happening here. Once she did, however, she responded in a soft...nervous tone "C-Chosen?...Chosen for what,..e-exactly?" she asks as her hands slowly lower the barrel of her gun closer to the entity's midsection.."W-Where am I? What are you?" she adds, wanting to know what in all hell was going on here!

Frog stared at the femme, withholding her answer for a bit, before the mask slowly leaned several feet down to stop in front of Nina's, "I have chosen you to know." Withdrawing her face with grace, she turned it towards the distant city's location. She didn't turn back to look at Nina, "You are in a new reality." Her head shifted as if she had caught something interesting to look at, "You have strange names for me. You know of angels and devils, as you call them, but your knowledge is only partial. With time, it will be complete."

Then her head slowly turned towards the human, "You do wish to know, don't you? I will let you know, if you promise me your name. Tell me."

Nichole slowly lowered her weapon until it was no longer pointed at the creature, all as her mind tried to comprehend all of what she was being told. A lot of it, she still had difficulty believing, but she did just see a tree just she'd itself to bits and give 'birth' to this thing. So she was at a loss for what to think..It was like something out of a fantasy movie! "Uhh...so...I just witnessed your, 'birth'. And we're in different 'reality'? I got this right?" she asks, suddenly straightening her posture and hefting her gun up, hugging it loosely against her chest. Her eyes casted down to the ground at the feet as she thought silently to herself to a second, lightly tapping her feet against the sand.

After a moments passing, her head lifted to cast her eyes back up to the one still floating before her "Okay...I think I can somewhat buy into that. Although still rattled by the idea.." she says, then giving fourth a soft sigh, lightly shutting her eyes for that brief instance in attempt to quickly settle her nerves "My name's Nichole. Nichole Firana.." she answers, then opening her eyes to gaze upon Frog with a slight smile. "Care to tell me more?" she promptly asks, slightly canting her head to her right.

Delastarh frowned, crossing his arms. "You are the only person we met since... what happened. I am sorry."

He sat down in front of Maxwell, looking over his should to see if Metaralis was around. "Don't mind Meta, please. He's not a bad guy. He's just... very protective toward me. When he was a child, he lost everything, and when he tried to find help he has be spat on like a worthless insect. That made him angry and cold, never trusting anyone. I manage to get him to open and trust me. It wasn't easy, but I knew he needed to have someone to help him. But that means I am everything to him, and you pointing a gun at me probably made him very mad, but especially scared. I'm sure if you show him that you are good, he'll warm up to you!" he said, the last sentence with a hopeful smile.

"So she is not here..." Maxwell thought as Delastarh told him about his friend's past. Even if his thought were on Ezekiel now, he still listened, and as surprising it may be, he identified with Metaralis.

After all, the only on that saw good in him, even if he still doubted about that, was Ezekiel. When he had nothing, and when he was cold and strickly professional, she was here, she offered help, even if it was strange to offer help to the one that pointed a gun at you (seemed like it was his new greetings, Maxwell thought.). And now, Ezekiel was his everything, the only reason he made efforts to show his emotions, to act normally around other people, just because it made her happy. And after all, if he saw someone pointing a gun at Ezekiel, he would probably had killed this same person without asking for any explanations.

He looked at Delastarh, his face not changing from an inche:

"Look," he said, "I understand why your friend did that to me, and i understand why he wants to leave me alone. But know two thing, Mr Nagahoshi, First, that doesn't mean i will like him more, and second thing..."

He closed his eyes, his head still hurting:

"I am no good. The only one that think she see that in me is an hopeless optimist that should need to be more mature somtimes."

Delastarh frowned. "If you really were no good, I don't think that she would stay with you. No matter how much of a hopeless optimist she is. And really, I don't care what you are up to, usually, because right now we are completely lost somewhere unknown, and I will gladly have someone with a weapon around. If you get Meta to trust you enough, I'm sure he'll give you back your munitions. But he's a stubborn man, so you will need to make efforts."

The said stubborn man suddenly reappeared with a stack of wood in the arms. He dropped it in the middle of the clearing, and wiped his hands together.

"That should be enough for the night. Do you have a lighter?"

The tall man pressed his lips together. "No."

Metaralis sighed. "I'll have to get this fire started by the old fashion way, then..."