Once home to the Crystal Cities of the Hunter clans, Craiss Caverns is now a hollow empty shell of its former glory due to a strange misfortune in the past. Man-made tunnels now lead to this place, but tales tell of some never returning. (+3 Defense, +2 Offense)

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&When All You Need is Missing&//hunt

Postby Dawnhawk » 05/06/2010 4:50 PM

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He was a scholar. There was nothing more that he asked from life than to be able to give and gain knowledge. It was what he lived, what he breathed. It was all of the thoughts that filled his head and everything that he did. There was nothing more, and nothing less, than knowledge.
Without knowledge, you couldn't survive. You couldn't eat. Couldn't drink.  Sleep. You couldn't even sleep without knowledge.
But he had gotten sick, Maat had, of trudging about with only the dense friends of Dawnhawk's to share with. Of course, he could try and teach them what he knew, but none of them truly appreciated it. Perhaps the Kuhna Veridian would listen to him once and a while, but he probably knew more about magic than the Imeut could tell him. And, naturally, Maat understood more than just magic, but he had vowed to never share more than was asked of him, and Veridian needed no more.

Maat sighed inwardly. He did not particularly enjoy recalling that day, but he couldn't stop himself as the memories swirled within his head, begging to be let out.

~~~

She had let him in. When she opened the door of her home, she was opening the door to her mind as well.
She had been in love.
He was, most probably, more attractive than Maat. But Maat couldn't help it. Back then, if he saw someone in pain, he would try to lift it. So it wasn't as if his motives were impure; it was just that she was asking only something that he didn't want to give.
She wanted him to give away the little piece of his soul that he had not reserved for her. The Imeut had it under lock and key, and he kept it in a place where he thought that no one would ever look. And even if they did look, they would never recognize it.

Her name was Firabi. He thought that she was broken, but she had never cared for her lover at all.
He thought that that lover was the first, but she knew the story differently than she had said before.
He thought that she was sweet and pure, but she kept her truth as hidden as he kept his.
He thought that, despite the odds as he stacked them, she really was falling in love with him.

I suppose you can figure out the way that she saw it.

So Firabi drew him in, with her little touches and fleeting embraces. And she knew that he actually believed all of her lies, because he was not so wise back then. She was smarter than him, knew how to use her knowledge better than he.
And she almost won.

She had him there, in her bed, defenseless in human form. The Blood Hollowheart wanted to be an enchantress, wanted to test out her powers on him. And Maat was too young and naive to truly understand.

It was almost stolen. You know what I'm talking about. You just think that rape can't work that way.
It can, and it very nearly did that day, in that white room, on those violet satin sheets.

Maat almost smiled, later, upon realizing how very similar violet is to violent. Almost.

But Firabi wouldn't be able to. She had her face ripped off.
And who can smile without lips?

It was his fault. Maat would always think so, place the blame upon himself instead of the true culprit.
He just didn't want to doubt her innocence so much.


Okay, okay, so things are not, perhaps, as clear as they should be. Would you like me to make the same mistake as Maat had, give the wrong kind of information out to unwilling ears? I wouldn't like that. So, if you've come this far and you don't want to know, please look away. Go back. Don't read this account.
Things are always worse from the dragon's mouth, aren't they? And I am the only one fit to scribe around here.

What, did you think that I wouldn't be allowed to write my own story? I would speak it, but there are no ears to listen.
I am alone. Recovering. From what? I'll tell you, now.
Firabi lured me into her house on the pretense that I had to 'take care of something' for her. You know that I didn't understand anything that came from that stripper's mouth, so I didn't object.
Oh yeah, didn't you figure out that she was a stripper?
She used binds on me, tied me to her bed and told me that she was going to take what she had wanted from the start, even if I wouldn't give it to her. Just like that. Easy as juicy, stupid Imeut pie.

In my rage, I warped back into my Imeut form and slashed her pretty little head in two, severed that pretty little face from that pretty little skull and watched as the pretty little blood poured from the pretty little wound that I left open.
I didn't even wait until I got home to scour that shit from my claws. I burst my way outside in typical monster fashion: through the wall. And I thrashed in the puddles on the tar until every last moleule of her acid was rid from my hand.
Or perhaps it was only a hand again when she no longer marred it.

Long story short, I killed her under my own power, and abandoned the human form I had loved so much because of her. And now, to get away from it all, he had come to Craiss Caverns, if only to end with more knowlegde than he had come with. Perhaps he would even find someone with a love for knowlegde akin to his own...

{owo I love my Maat-kun. He's my baybay. But I really need to develop his character... Already, this post is different than the first time I tried writing it. a.e  So if you'd like to join my crazy RP, you might want to PM me first. I mean, I think I'd like to do this alone even if Maat-kun wasn't in Craiss because that's where Akail are. Ohhel, I'm having an affair with this wall. Right here. -snogs and is dead-
I can't help it if you make me wanna lose control
It's too hard for me, I'm done resisting
I'm gonna listen to your every beck and call
And let your hands reduce me.
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Re: &When All You Need is Missing&//hunt

Postby Dawnhawk » 05/09/2010 1:15 AM

Maat did not marvel in the sight of the caverns just yet; he crouched, shivering, at their mouth, inching forward as fast as his eyes adjusted to the oncoming darkness. He tossed the progression of his night vision away as he looked over at the sun, and yet he didn't regret it. The colors there, although they threatened to blind him, were something that he held very dear. The mere thought of them sent his scarab aflutter, and he moved a paw to pull it to his chest.

Makin was the one who kept track of all of his desires when there was no more room in the Imeut's head to hold them any more. She was very loyal and true, and she shared a bond with Maat that would last until both of their bodies had melted back into the earth.
When Maat died, the scarab would sit upon his headdress, eternally patient, and wait until a hole had opened up in his chest. The inner workings of this exchange were kept very secret, and only the spirit of the the dead Imeut would be able to see the lengths to which their scarab would go for them. In this case, Makin would crawl into the space where Maat's heart was supposed to be, and throw all of the things he had ever loved back into him. Every scarab knows when their bond's heart has stopped beating, for they can sense it every second of every day, like clockwork.
Glug, glug. Glug, glug. Glug, glug. Like a slow waltz along the floor of life, if you will.

Out from Makin's mouth will flow the beams of the setting sun as Maat remembered them. Their rich warmth will carry the love he used to feel through his veins, and it is the ecstacy caused by this that will finally carry their soul up to a heaven or weigh it down into a hell. Makin will put all of the energy remaining in her small, stolid body into the last beats of Maat's heart. If this process were ever to be interrupted, the Guiding spirits would become flustered and unable to get the Imeut's soul to where it belongs. That would put Maat and Makin as well as he who disturbed them at great risk of half-living for eternity, stuck between here and the afterlife.
If the light you needed to live was allowed to spill from your veins, and you were there to watch it pool on the floor, would there really be anything left in you to care about the resting place of your soul?
I'm not talking about blood, or food, or oxygen. I'm talking about the only thing that you need, the one thing that makes you wake up in the morning and really live.

There. Now you understand.

That was how Maat felt about the colors of the setting sun, and he kissed them goodbye as he plunged into the caverns indefinitely.
I can't help it if you make me wanna lose control
It's too hard for me, I'm done resisting
I'm gonna listen to your every beck and call
And let your hands reduce me.
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