PC: Golden Pearl

Run by: Walker of Shadow (3 xp)

Synopsis: Pearl's life is turned upside-down when she is killed by the ghost of her beloved on the eve of their wedding. Now, she is a ghost who's purpose in life was to hunt the very thing she has become.

 

 

Its midnight at the Nexus monestary and all has been quiet for some time. The passing of the master was several hours ago, a silent kill by the necromancer who has since slipped into the night. Golden Pearl, who was up late studying her library, now returns to her beloved master and bethrothed chambers, completely unaware of the tragedy that has taken place. Instead her thoughts are set upon their impeding marriage and finally consumation of the arrangment. Holding a candle in one hand, and heavy tome under the other arm, Pearl slips into the dark bedroom of her master and gently shuts the door behind her. While the pair must refrain from intercourse, the warm embrace of a hug and sleeping against his toned frame are not. "Dear," Pearl calls out softly. "Are you awake," she asks while slipping across the room, her slippers clapping gently against the cold stone floor.

 

A whisper of cold wind wends its way past Pearl's body, seeking to breach her clothing like a hurried lover might. It is most likely a spare draft, as the windows are definately shut. Aren't they? 

 A voice comes from the bed, source hidden behind the hangings. It speaks an affirmative, and is unmistakably that of your betrothed. But, something is different. Off, if you will. Perhaps he is getting a cold, but he sounds a little distant, and his voice is absent its usual warmth.

 

"My love," Pearl calls out, "all you all right," she asks, pausing as the bite of cold whispers about her. "Why do you have the window open in the dead of water?" Moving hurriedly over the young woman goes to close the glass plane but finds it is shut already. She blinks with confusion and then spins about holding her candle up and out to try to see better. "Love?" Her voice is paniced now. Something is definitely wrong. This fledling undead hunter can sense it. She moves towards the canopy bed. "This is not funny."

 

Again the whisper comes, and Pearl realizes it presages the voice speaking. "No one is laughing....my love. Come to bed. The sheets are cold...without you..."

 

"All right," Pearl replies softly, lowering the candle and moving to the bed. Usually she'd kick off her slippers but with the chill in the room she simply parts the canopy surrounding the bed and turns about to take a seat. One hand goes to put the candle on the nearby bedstand while the other reaches up to remove the summer style hat from her head. "I am looking forward to tomarrow," she tells her bethrowed softly.

 

A soft touch caresses the curve of her shoulder, tracing down her arm, raising goosebumps as it passes, due to the icy cold of the touch. It almost doesn't feel like a hand at all, its so cold. Again, the whisper. "So am I, love. So. Am. I." Strangely, the voice seems to express both excitement and great sorrow, at the same time. The last three words come out almost in a grunt, seemingly forced out through either a grimace of pain or a smile of exquisite delight. Maybe its both? Without turning around, there is no way to tell.

 

 

Pearl smiles as the touch lands upon her shoulder. The touch of her mate always brings such satisfaction and sense of security. Her head tilts to one side so that her cheek might rest upon the hand but it trails away before it can, sliding down her arm. She feels the chill and goosebumps and mistakes it for passion rather than temperature. "Perhaps we can tonight? I have longed to be your wife for so many years, I can hardly wait a second longer." The young woman turns about her golden brown eyes bright with love and a degree of lust.

 

 

Her lover stares back at her, eyes wide. But, several things are off: his skin is so pale that it is almost white, his eyes are a deep black(although that could be the light), and there seems to be a hole in his tunic. He smiles warmly, the warmth not reaching his eyes, or perhaps it is just the light. There is something else off, just a bit, but you can't place it. He nods, slowly and deeply, still smiling. "If you truly want to, it would be best to do this and get the ceremoniousness out of the way, so that we can lie together in peace." He begins reaching for Pearl, still smiling.

 

 

As her lover reaches out, Pearl's eyes go wide and she screams in terror! Immediately her hunter instincts kick in and the young woman propels herself backwards off the bed in a sort of half flip to attempt to escape the manifested ghost, her hand flying off her lap and landing unceremoniously upon the floor. Unfortunately while attempting to land on her feet, the young woman's right ankle is canted and her foot lands awkwardly. What should be an amazing display of athletics instead ends in a crash as Pearl loses her balance and falls to the floor. She yelps in pain.

 

 

From her position on the floor, Pearl is in the perfect position to see the body under the bed. The body of her lover. The body with a large bloody stab wound in his chest. The ghost of her lover steps down off of the bed, showing that he is a bit corporeal, at least. He gets a look of sadness on his face. "I'm sorry, Pearl. I wanted to tell you. He forced me to bow to his will, and I couldn't." His voice is just as it normally is, warm and loving. His eyes, however, remain black and soulless. He also doesn't stop moving towards Pearl, hands clenching and unclenching. "You've got to get out of here, Pearl. I'm not myself anymore. I'll kill you if you stay. Ple-" At this point, his left hand comes up and he slaps himself roughly across the face. Immediately, his voice cuts off, and his face assumes a neutral expression. He continues to advance.

 

 

Golden Pearl is not accustomed to showing weakness. No, she is considered one of the most valient of the order. But the sight of her lover's body stuffed under the bed is a knife to the heart. Scrambling she rolls herself onto her back and shifts backwards on her hands and feet like a crab as tears begin to flood her eyes. "No... NO! This can't be!" Her bright warm eyes flip upwards to the corporeal ghost as it decents towrds her. "You... you can't be dead," she wimpers.

 

It reaches out its hands, fingers curled into claws aiming for her throat. The spectre blinks, and suddenly, Pearl's master is back, though just his voice. It is full of sorrow. "I'm sorry, Pearl. I tried to stop him, I really did. He was just too strong. But, we'll be together in just a few moments. We can go to Lethe together, and have a better life in our next reincarnation. Sorry, but I've got to kill you now. My new master ordered it, and I just can't disobey him. The rest of the monastary will be joining you shortly, though, so there is that consolation." He stops talking and lunges for Pearl's neck, going for the kill.

 

 

 

"You're not doing anything," Pearl shouts rolling aside deftly as the ghost lunges for her. Almost instantly the young woman leaps into at fighting position gracefully, her decades of training keeping her body in motion while her mind reels from this intense loss. "You peice of slime! I hope you can hear me! Can you!!!" Pearl turns upon the ghost and her eyes narrow. "Your not him. Your an abomination," she tells herself before leaping into the air and kicking her foot out at the creature.

 

 

The ghost of the master looks unfazed by the kick, and merely launches himself at Pearl again, attempting to capitalize on her 'being in the air'-ness. His hands reach for her again, but they are aiming to rend and tear, not grasp and subdue.

 

 

Golden Pearl ducks and weaves under the clawed hand. "You cannot defeat me. I was trained by the BEST!" Her face is stone cold as she couches down and then suddenly releases herself upward, her foot swinging around in a bicycle kick. "Hai!"

 

 

The kick connects solidly, snaping the ghost's head back with an explosive 'crack'! The attack probably would've killed a mortal, but this isn't a mortal. His head tilts slowly back forward, and his eyes are no longer black, but burning red, and his face is twisted in fury. "Fine, you bitch! I tried playing nice, but that's obviously not happening. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to do this, and spoil your last thoughts of your master, but you've forced my hand!" He throws his arms to the side and intones a single word in a strange, alien tongue. The word seems to contain all the hate, all the pain, and all the death that has ever been experienced, and the sound of it is almost physically painful for you to hear. 

 A rush of black Essence swirls up around him and darts into his body, changing and warping it. He rapidly becomes almost skeletally thin, his joints almost sticking through his 'skin'. His fingers dwindle especially much, revealing long, razor-sharp bone claws. His face also pulls back, revealing suddenly pointed teeth. His hair falls out and is consumed in a flash of black fire. Even his clothes shift and change, becoming a suit of shimmering black armor, until he stands before you, completely different, and yet still unmistakably your Master. He cracks his neck and grins, the gesture full of malice and hate, a barely-controled fury at the living.

 

 

Golden Pearl pants from the exertsion, a bead of sweat growing upon her brow. "I'm not going to lay down and die," she grumbles while at ready again. Then when the word is released the young woman places her hands to her ears and temples from the pain that shoots through her. Still covering herself she gasps in horror at what the ghost becomes. Swallowing she drops her hands into a ready position, strenghtens her stance, and then begins to ball he fists up before releasing them flat, and then balling them up again. "You're not him," she declares. "Your that necromancer, aren't you? I'm sending you back to the grave, corpse!" Suddenly Pearl sprints forward, flips foward, lands upon her hands and then springs off them, throwing her feet outward as a giant pike at the creature's armored chest.

 

As Pearl makes her declaration, the ghost just laughs. He doesn't even bother to block the attack, allowing it to strike him full in the chest. His armor, which seems to be made up of hundreds of screaming faces, absorbs the blow harmlessly, and he doesn't even seem to notice it. Still laughing, he says, "Very astute, mortal! But, no, I am not. I am Shattered Dreams, his right hand. He wouldn't sully himself on such petty targets as you lot. And now, mortal, you die!" Without another word, he brings his claws down in a glittering, deadly arc that actually whistles as it comes around, heading right for the floor, by way of Pearl's torso.

 

 

 

Pearl screams with agony as the claws rake across her torso, slicing open both her clothes and her flesh. Blood immediately pours out, staining Pearl's legs, feet, and the floor. Staggering backwards from the nearly leathal blow she wraps one arm about her abdomen trying to contain the hemmoraging. She trembles and gasps for breath as the adrenaline begins flowing, numbing what might incapaciate some. "I was trained by the best," she tells herself again. Taking a deep breath the young woman lowers the arm that clutches herself and it joins with the other in rising to another fighting stance. "You won't win." Then summoning her reserves she charges forward, tumbles into a roll and then leaps upwards with a headbutt directed right at Shatter Dream's head.

 

 

 

Shattered Dreams sneers at her antics, and sways backwards, just barely managing to get his hands up in time, catching her head with his claws, turning it aside. Unless she is imensely lucky, this also serves as his attack, this time directed at her skull, and the precious treasure it contains. Should it connect, she will most likely die.

 

 

 

The claws rip into the sides of Pearl's face, penetrating the skull and mushing about in her brain. The lights in her expressive golden eyes go out almost immediately, and it is a good bet that she doesn't even feel the pain of her passing. Just a blissful, great nothingness. She isn't quite dead yet, though she is completely unaware of the world around her. Shattered Dreams lays her down on the ground and wipes his claws on her chest. Then, he speaks another word, this one evoking eternal torment and never-found peace. He lays a hand over her forehead, and a rune etches itself there. The rune for 'life', in the tongue of the Underworld. Then, he rises to his feet, chuckling. "You have intrigued me, young one. Maybe you'll be able to free me from this curse at some point. Get strong. I wish you luck in your second 'life'." Then, still chuckling, he leaves the room. 

 Soon, screams are heard. First of fear, then of despair, then of pain. 

 Then silence. 

 Then nothing.

 

 

 

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 The nothing presists only temporarily until Pearl awakens with a gasp. She sits up with a start, her hands flying backwards to support herself as she sits upon the ground. Things feel cold, very cold. Her eyes immediately drop to her grevious wound however its gone. Instead she is only dressed as she was earlier and her fine clothes are again intact. Even her favorite summer hat sits atop her head. "What on earth," Pearl asks herself, while looking around. Gone is the monestary, gone is the undead creature. Instead she appears to be in a desolate forest of dried out, leafless trees. Slowly the young woman rises to her feet and glances about. Its then that she notices that something is very wrong. Her once beautifully olive skin has turned a pale grey-blue. Her eyes widen. What is this?!

 

The world around Pearl is strangely grey, and muted, as if it is foggy. The telltale swirl of fog isn't there, though. It is just a quality of the light itself, as if it only grudgingly lights this desolate, blasted forest. 

 A wind whips through the trees, causing them to sway creepily, but again, the sound of that is muted as well. When the wind hits Pearl, it doesn't cause a chill. It is merely a sensation against her skin. 

 Looking around, Pearl catches sight of what looks like a mausoleum nearby, its carved marble almost white against the grey background. Pearl recognises it as the place where fallen members of the Order are placed, but what is it doing all the way out here? 

 The door is open, invitingly.

 

Golden Pearl feels the wind but not the chill. Her eyes, the only part of her with great color, swirl around to take in this nightmarish landscape. Wraping her arms about herself the young woman begins to feel real fear. Nothing in her teachings ever prepared her for this. What is /this/ anyhow? Sighting the mausoleum, a familiar sight, provides some sense of security and immeidately Pearl breaks into a run, moving towards and into the open door.

 

 

 

Golden Pearl runs right into the door as if it were closed, and the force of the impact sends Pearl flying backwards. She lands uncermoniously upon her back. The pain of such seems muted. "What the," she mutters to herself, sitting up an reaching to rub at the back of her head. Its this moment that she realizes her clothes are different, abit slightly. Instead her sleeve, which usually ends at the wrist, is exceedingly long. "Oh no, oh no," Pearl yells. She looks down at herself again. Her outer dress is a muted /burgendy/ /velvet/. These aren't normal clothes...

 

 

Inside the mausoleum, there are the familiar rows of alcoves with coffins in them. In the center, though, is an altar with a plaque in it. On top of the altar is a large amount of goods: food, wine, clothing, weapons, armor, even some jewelery and jade money. It is all arrayed around the space where a body would be, and in the manner of a funeral panopoly, though it is much more extravagant than any panopoly that Pearl has ever seen. 

 The plaque is made of burnished black steel, and reads, simply: 

 

 Here lies Golden Pearl, much beloved of the Order of Nexus. Her bravery will never be forgotten, nor will her sacrifice be in vain.

 

 

Golden Pearl rises to her feet, and approaches the door once again. She tests it again and this time is able to pass through. Her breathes are very shallow as she looks around, noting the familiar alcoves from previous burials she attended. But the one in the center strikes her directly in the heart. "Oh no oh on," she murmers softly, realization setting in as she goes to kneel beside the altar. Reaching up she strokes at the plaque with one of her tentacle sleeved hands. "This... this... can't be." Her eyes look to the space where the body would be.

 

The space looks like it would be exactly her size, were she to lay in it.

 

 

 

Golden Pearl begins to cry softly. "I'm dead?" Turning about she lays up against her altar as the tears flow long and freely. She cries for several minutes before finally running out of tears. Eyes red the reaches up and wipes them on the bounty of her funeral sleeves. "Then... am I..." She quickly grabs at the fabric and quicky pulls the sleeve back to reveal her pale blue-grey hand. "This can't be right. Unless... I am..." The last word does not escape her thin lips.

 

 

 

Golden Pearl leans her head back on the altar and takes a deep breath to try to calm herself, but fear, anger, and great sorrow is all she feels. "No no no," she tells herself. "I can't let myself become that, I have to focus. This must be a mistake, I just can't be this," she tells herself while turning about, grasping hold of the alter and lifting herself to her feet. "I can't be a ghost. I'm good, I know I am. Unless... I'm going to turn evil." Her eyes turn towards the open door and quickly Pearl runs to it. With a great exertion of energy she closes it, cutting off all light from the outside and plunging herself into total darkness. Beginning to sob again she lowers herself to the floor and crawls back in the direction of the altar. Upon reaching it she presses herself against the plaque and curls up in a fetal position. "I won't hurt anyone... I won't hurt anyone," she tells herself over and over, as tears drip down her pale face. Pulling her favorite hat from her head Pearl grasps it closely and closes her eyes. "I won't hurt anyone I won't hurt anyone..."