Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 9, 2023 0:29:24 GMT 9
#s://www~religiousartdecor~com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/catholic-angel-statues-2-800x857~jpg TW: body horror
The first bite was soft and silken, sweet and savory both, neither able to overpower the other. Lacrimosa closed his eyes, savoring the bite-
A small piece of divinity.
He swallowed, and the after-taste was acrid, bitter- guilt and regret, searing and sticking on the way down. But that hardly mattered- He had feasted, and that-
Feast [feest] v. have or partake of a feast; eat sumptuously. to dwell with gratification or delight, as on a picture or view.
The thought slid into his mind as he brought more of the meal to his lips. The sweetness was gone, now, rot alone in its place, and his body surged forward without him, taking more and more. Lacrimosa fought to stop his hands-
Consequence [kon-si-kwens] n. the effect, result, or outcome of something occurring earlier; an act or instance of following something as an effect, result, or outcome.
He could not stop, taking more and more of the meal, pausing only to wipe the excess from his mouth with his hands- black, acid, tar- and sucking that from his stained fingers.
That consumed, Lacrimosa could only watch as he picked up the platter, face reflected in the polished gold- but the eyes were not his- pulling it close to lap up the stray drops of blood.
His body was still not returned to him.
His hands reached out, grabbing at what was closest, irreverent- a teacake crumpled when he touched it, gold falling away- it, too, was consumed, and with it were memories of Saint-
Earnest, wanting to help, above all else. Untouched, untainted.
The blancmange- an older man, begging for help, for more time. Sarthor promised a chance, viewing him not as man or soul, but treatments and care, and expensive surgery. Payments and payments and payments.
Every food was another person- someone used and manipulated and cast aside. Interns and nurses and patients. Assistants and families and strangers.
Each meal consumed, plate cast aside. He crawled, slowly, methodically, over the table, no scrap left behind.
Why are you doing this-
It was not wrath or gluttony or even misguided pride.
Greed [greed] n. excessive or rapacious desire, especially for wealth or possessions.
His body hunkered as he neared the end of the table, twisting and pulling, limbs snapping and peeling into halves indelicately. The pain was searing, agonizing- and Sarthor could not scream, could not retch- caught and trapped as something else puppeted him forwards.
Parasite [par-uh-sahyt] n. an organism that lives on or in an organism of another species, known as the host, from the body of which it obtains nutriment. A person who receives support, advantage, or the like, from another or others without giving any useful or proper return, as one who lives on the hospitality of others.
Stop, stop, but his mouth wasn't his own. A seared steak- Alistair, bright eyed, eager, brilliant. Drawn and snared and caught.
And then, then, at the end of the table, a small platter. Pasta mollicata. It was a child, the youngest of seven. He prayed for help, for freedom from his situation. He deserved freedom, didn't he?
He deserved all of it, didn't he?
The light grew destructive, ripping away pretense. The walls fell to mesh, to data. The clawed hands before him fell to swing joints, a skeleton to apply texture to. This wasn't real- none of it.
Sarthor saw himself- immobile, locked in place, unable to pull the headset off- and felt a quiet laugh burble in his throat.
Who are you, but his thoughts were not even thoughts, typed out impulses, programmed movements, ones and zeroes across miles of wire.
Requiem [rek-wee-uhm] n. Roman Catholic Church. Also called Requiem Mass . the Mass celebrated for the repose of the souls of the dead. a celebration of this Mass. a plainsong setting for this Mass.; any musical service, hymn, or dirge for the repose of the dead.
zubat || 0/150
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 8, 2023 1:22:21 GMT 9
TW: implied cannibalism
time crept slowly.
each second ticked, demanding the full weight and breadth of itself, only passing when pushed aside by the next.
saint moved, a methodical whirlwind, touching everything, pressing everything- lacrimosa hung back, waiting. not for saint to figure out what was to be done-
but for the Corruption to reveal itself.
his attention was turned by the sharp cry of pain, gaze moving to saint- to the venom that spilled from his hand. “don’t panic,” he cautioned first, any other words stilled as the chandelier swung, the ceiling moving.
saint offered his blood- seven drops, something correct and profane, and he was rewarded for it- sunlight fell on him, and he closed his eyes, sinking into it.
a blessing.
lacrimosa loitered, casting his eyes over the ceiling above, the caisson, the chandelier- and he felt saint’s gaze on him, the weight of his wonder.
time crept slowly.
saint turned his gaze away, and lacrimosa felt a mix of pride- and disgust. that he held such a pedestal in saint’s eyes- that saint was too much of a coward to do what needed to be done, to get answers.
but saint spoke, again- asking for answers, asking for truth. asking for understanding.
the consequence.
lacrimosa looked at him, and smiled back. “i promise you, saint.”
he gave saint the decency of looking away, eyes closing at the crash, the rasping dying-breaths. he glanced back as light bathed the room, shining over the lavish dinner.
and then, the quaint chiming. a summons. a dinner bell.
“Let us feast, La-cri-mo-sa.”
Lacrimosa sat at the head of the table, by the roast’s platter. He offered his thanks, for the meal, for the opportunity, to the Corruption, to Saint-
And he began to sup.
zubat || 50/150
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 7, 2023 9:35:36 GMT 9
a newfound bravery flickered in Saint . demanding to go first, as if that would allay any fears, prevent any trauma. lacrimosa nodded, ducking back to let saint cross the threshold first.
a seed had been sown, and watered. now, perhaps, it would take root.
lacrimosa hesitated only a moment- curious, thinking- before he stepped through, following saint.
it was no gloomy, dreary forest, no quiet operating room, but a dining hall. something bright and brilliant and gleaming.
how curious.
lacrimosa trailed after saint, eyes casting over the decor. rich, refined- perhaps overdone. but lacrimosa felt more at home here, than among the drab decor of the settlement.
the table was covered in lavish foods, pristine and gilded. maybe a metaphor, of sorts- even the food of nobles being useless, and out of reach.
how interesting.
“i wonder where the main course is…” lacrimosa mused, something droll in his tone. it was unlikely to be a mystery for very long- that simply wasn’t how the corruption worked.
he picked up, delicately, an oyster shell, raw oyster and caviar within, gold polished enough to reflect.
zubat || 100/150
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 2, 2023 11:29:07 GMT 9
lacrimosa did not let his smile fade, despite the inconvenience of the game’s systems- items could not be gifted, but traded. aggravating. no matter. “that’s alright,” he said, pleasantly, reaching to inspect their character profile. “maybe there’s a pokemon you aren’t as attached to?”
his eyes roved over the lines of creatures. so much potential… “hmm, like this little white one- you’ve got two of them. would you be willing to let me have one?”
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 2, 2023 11:21:07 GMT 9
and another piece of the puzzle- a struggle at home. a fraught companion… that was something lacrimosa could work with. he blinked, a bit, and gave a soft laugh. “sorry- i guess it sounds pretty strange…” he admitted, looking away. “i… well, this is about the offer i made him, at the convention. it’s a big commitment, and i wanted to be sure that if he accepted- which i don’t want to pressure him into doing, of course- that i take care of everything he needs along the way. even if that’s something as simple as… knowing how good a friend he has.” lacrimosa finished, smiling a bit more.
silver-moon looked away, because that was the goal. “ah, but- you’ve done me a great service, just with that. i… here. let me offer you something, in return. i don’t think i have much by the way of gossip, but…” with a quick motion, he summoned the bulky thing he’d won from the prize counter- a bundle of rainbow feathers, woven into a gleaming cloak.
silver-moon’s eyes lit up. lacrimosa smiled. “please. it’s the least i could do.”
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 2, 2023 11:05:06 GMT 9
lacrimosa listened. he did not interrupt, or interject. he merely listened, looking away only to accept his tea, and sip at it gently.
it felt warm, in his hands. it did nothing to soothe the pain, heartbeat pulsing in the bones of his right hand. soon, soon, soon.
“a few months? that’s quite a while… i’m sorry to hear that you suffered in mistra- but all the same, i’m glad saint was there to offer you aid.”
this, this was the source of his determination, then. why he had offered to walk into mistra, not once- but twice. lacrimosa regarded silver-moon again, careful. studying.
“do you know if he’s doing well, at home?”
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 2, 2023 10:31:22 GMT 9
something in silver-moon’s face cracked. maybe sympathy. maybe pity. it didn’t matter, truly. they were receptive to him, and that was all that mattered.
he moved to sit, where they gestured, every movement precise, exacting, expending nothing that couldn’t be wasted. he watched silver-moon, the worry creasing their face. “how long have you and saint been friends?” he asked first. something casual. small talk.
a waitress came by, and he quietly ordered tea, eyes never leaving his victim.
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 2, 2023 9:38:57 GMT 9
fortune smiled on him, yet again.
lacrimosa had been in briar-bane on a whim, a hope at chance- and it had arrived before him, the same pale-haired trainer he had seen angelo with. kasey. but here, now, a persona. silver-moon. something a bit more fantasy, ethereal.
hopeful.
“silvermoon,” he said, offering a smile. “you’re saint’s friend- i remember you from the convention. i- i’m glad to have found you. do you mind if i ask you some questions?”
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 1, 2023 21:41:07 GMT 9
Sarthor had wanted to be done with it- but an advantage in the game was too good an opportunity to pass up. He made his way to the prize booth- only for there already to be a throng of people. He ground his teeth, and waited.
To the girl at the counter, though, he waspleasant enough, ofering his app with a smile. "One prize from the battle,please." He said. Hopefully now he could leave. What a waste.
defeated C0D13_2 Noonlight loot crate
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Nov 1, 2023 8:05:37 GMT 9
#s://files~catbox~moe/uwkb0v~jpg At the vocal realization, Sarthor smiled a bit more. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Angelo. Dr. Caldwell,” He said, extending his hand to shake- his grip hale and sturdy, commanding, unlike Lacrimosa’s frail and withered appearance- and then he paused, seeming to realize himself. “Ah- forgive me. You… can just call me Sarthor, if you’d like.”
This wasn’t a patient. This was- in the strangest sense of the word- a peer.
He turned, glancing at Angelo’s companion- who seemed to balk, a bit, under the attention. “And a pleasure to meet you, as well. Are you Angelo’s friend?”
“Oh- um, yes- I- I’m Kasey.” They said, eyes wide, and hesitantly taking Sarthor’s hand when it was offered to them, as well.
Sarthor turned his attention back to Angelo. “Forgive me- Might I have a moment of your time? I had something I wanted to discuss with you.”
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Oct 23, 2023 9:44:57 GMT 9
#s://files~catbox~moe/uwkb0v~jpg Sarthor had finally managed to escape the chaos of the food truck area- though, in a twist of fate, it was because everyone had rushed towards the North Hall, and he had gotten caught along with them.
So, he was still trapped in this hell, and Alistair was ignoring his texts.
He made his way through the throng, past a pair of babbling schoolchildren (Wolf & Bergamot Gristleborg ), getting away from the worst of it- until people started howling at “merchandise” being “deleted.”
Which was funny, in that it was all still on the table. Children were howling about Zapdos plushies being “recycled,” and there were thousands more in boxes. Mass hysteria? Who was to say.
His phone finally buzzed, and he glanced down, a frown creasing his expression.
A string of nonsense texts.
And an instant reply-
Sarthor refrained from responding, and tapped at the button as instructed. What a waste of time.
{Damage Roll}PzFKy9RB2d100 +10 (Interact with Previous Post) +10 (Merch) +20 (Supereffective) Damage Dealt: 186 Attack type used: against C0D13_2 HP: 1,722/5,000 2d100
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Oct 14, 2023 11:22:19 GMT 9
#s://media~discordapp~net/attachments/322481299875168256/1090850611446173696/Shibusawa~Tatsuhiko~full~3772105~jpg Sarthor did not want to be in the arena plaza- he was not hungry, and did not want to be trapped in whatever crowd was swarming it, everyone speaking and screeching far too loudly. They were all gawking and pointing at a spot in the air- presumably, whatever the announcement had been about. Everyone had on little papery glasses.
Sarthor, noticeably, did not.
He did, though, notice people shouting at the blank spot of air, tapping their phones with reckless abandon. The closest being some woman in a Southern outfit that seemed a bit more fitting for a reenactment than an animal video game.
His phone beeped, annoyingly, and he pulled it out to mirror the others, seeing flashing icons and buttons- one a black set of eyes blinking harder than the rest.
Sarthor did not have any witty catch-phrases, or even interest in what this was. His only intention was to get it done with, so everyone would let him leave
{Damage Roll}gyZMP6Rg2d100 +10 (Interact with Previous Post) +20 (Supereffective) Damage Dealt: 86 Attack type used: Seer / DARK C0D13_2 HP: 9039/10,000 2d100
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Oct 14, 2023 11:16:36 GMT 9
#s://media~discordapp~net/attachments/322481299875168256/1090850611446173696/Shibusawa~Tatsuhiko~full~3772105~jpg Sarthor ghosted back by the stages, eyes flicking over the WorldScreen Lite Demo. He'd gleaned all he could from it personally already- asked questions, tried to understand its mechanisms. Now, though, he needed not answers, but observations. He leaned against a wall, holding his phone open- universal language for "I'm busy," and waited.
The app beeped, gently, reminding him of the Seer Stamp bound to his account, which he ignored. What used did he have for it? Unless it was tied to the Corruption, to Mistra- which he was certain it wasn't- He did not care.
Instead, he watched those leaving the trial. Mentally noted their ages, about how long they'd been in the demo booth. How they acted upon leaving. If they swayed, if they stumbled. Each one was a data point, another seed of knowledge buried and coveted.
Soon, it would be released, and with it, more things to test- more things to try.
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Oct 12, 2023 12:09:10 GMT 9
a voice called out his name. lacrimosa paused, cautiously starting to turn- hunger and desperation still lingered in his gaze, something sharp and unyielding. but lacrimosa blinked, and it was gone, the man giving Saint a gentle smile instead.
"saint- i'm grateful to see you again. why did you think you wouldn't see me?" he asked, with a soft laugh. nothing was allowed to die, here.
lacrimosa glanced at the creature saint had with it- tainted, cursed. changed and delighted in that change. how was he to be anything but envious? but perhaps he was a fair portent...
lacrimosa let his gaze slide back to saint, smile brightening a bit. "of course. you did quite well last time. i would certainly feel much safer with you at my side..."
zubat || 150/150
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Lacrimosa
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Player Character
Posts: 136
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Sarthor Caldwell
OOC Username: spibe
Arena Points: 50
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Post by Lacrimosa on Oct 10, 2023 10:54:55 GMT 9
#s://files~catbox~moe/uwkb0v~jpg #s://media~discordapp~net/attachments/322481299875168256/1090850611446173696/Shibusawa~Tatsuhiko~full~3772105~jpg Sarthor found this all exhausting. He'd wanted to learn more about he current and upcoming WorldScreen technology, and with that out of the way... well, he had little else to do. Especially given he'd shooed his assistant off to handle his most pressing matters.
However... he'd seen a familiar mop of hair, when leaving the stage. It'd been too late to worry then but, now, armed with a new day, Sarthor knew he just had to wait. He'd waited in the Dream Garden. The other player was anxious, and craved quiet.
And his hunch was right- there was Saint , being coaxed into the area by another trainer, one Sarthor did not recognize, or care about. He let them have a moment, and approached the table they sat at.
His mannerisms were familiar- moving with Lacrimosa's quiet dignity and care- but with a affect that commanded power and respect. Sarthor knew his worth well. Despite that, he offered the trainers a gentle smile. "Pardon me..." He said. They looked young- maybe out of college, but likely still in it. "I'm looking for a companion from this game, and I... think you might be him. I'm, ah, 'Lacrimosa.' Does that sound familiar?"
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