I am the drop of blood that stains the white rose ♥
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Post by CrimsonRose on May 2, 2015 17:29:06 GMT -8
(Note for those reading this topic : this is a sort of archive RP for how our team formed through the years ovo) - 1884 - { This fateful day, I was wearing my wedding dress. For irony, maybe? Would anyone see, would anyone care? The door of the boudoir was tightly locked, but not a soul checked on me. Perfect.
As I ran the scissors along my neck, blood rained over this white gown, creating magnificent stains of crimson. Life escaped my body, I was reaped.
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I woke up in that field of chrysanthemum. Eyes closed, as light as wind, my hand was clutching this weapon of death who would become my closest friend in this new life. }
--- For a brief moment, Elizabeth was confused. Deep within she knew what happened, but every fiber of her existense wouldn't believe this was more than a dream. Did she make the right choice, was this more than a simple illusion? As the haze lifted, she saw her, long white hair flowing, a soft smile. This, was indeed reality. This day, Eli became a Death Apprentice.
Being barefoot , her long wedding dress grazed upon the cold floor. Eli was being led to a room where she would meet her ''team'', whatever that would mean. She was confused, a bit lost, but excitement was blooming fast deep within her stomach. Eli glanced upon this weapon she couldn't stop clutching; it was the almost replica of those she took her life with, in a rather larger size. ''So you followed me in death, uh?'', she mumbled. On the corner of the eye, something grabbed her attention. It was at this moment she saw the others, looking at her weirdly. The blood stains, maybe? Eli felt a rush, her head jolted straight up in a proud and defiant manner. This is a new life, after all.
''We're there'', her guide said, ''go in and meet your team, we're going to inform you further on your new duties later tonight.''. He left. Eli looked at him disappearing into these impossible long halls. The big door was waiting for her, she could hear faint voices behind it. Her hand ran along her neck in a last second thought; the wound, it healed into an atrocious scar! Panicked, she ripped a back part of her dress and fashioned a neck piece out of it. No one would notice this way, surely?
With the all the courage she could gather, Elizabeth pushed the door to discover a strange room. |
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Post by quinnquinn on May 2, 2015 18:14:27 GMT -8
- 1863 -
{ Cassidy, where are you?
It was beautiful. It was white, then it was red. Then I fell.
Did you catch me?
Everything is so yellow… }
- 1884 -
The door began to creak. The conversations inside stopped, and two faces turned to the door. Three, if you leaned in far enough to see a pile of sheets and a human in the corner. The two closer to the blood-stained woman standing there were wide-mouthed, unsure of what to do, until the one at the back came forward. “It’s her.” he said. Once he did, the others slowly, hesitantly even, went back into their deep conversation.
“Hello, Miss.” he bowed a little. The sheets wrapped around him followed gravity as he did so, falling down from one of his shoulders. His ink-stained hands (if you caught on fast enough one would have seen a rickety pen in one of them) quickly closed the gaps by holding the ends together. He flushed a little as he brought his eyes up to her face. She was tall, this one. And looking every bit the image of perfection. The white dress told him much, but the red confused him.
“You look tidy perfect, Miss. Was today not perfect?” He scanned her clothes again. He asked the other two to prep clothes for their newcomer, but perhaps they wouldn’t fit her. He didn’t expect her to be so tall. |
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I am the drop of blood that stains the white rose ♥
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Post by CrimsonRose on May 6, 2015 19:24:43 GMT -8
- 1884 - Elizabeth entered the room, hesitant. It had been so long since she saw the sight of strangers, she was used to the loneliness of her manor. She first noticed the room; a strange mix of the eras with a giant tree passing though the floor. A few second later, her new colleagues gasping caught her attention. There was no try intention to be remotely subtle in their shock. Probably the dress yes, it had to be changed. "It's her.'' A small boy came forward, in strange robes and leather straps; this place was definitely weirder than anything books had prepared her for. As the others went back into their conversation, Elizabeth felt a rush of relief. This sort of attention was unnerving to her, still trying to figure out this realm of death. But the boy, he didn't mind the others. As he came face to face to her, he bowed in an awkward manner, half loosing his clothes. ''Hello, Miss.'' Suddenly, it hit her. An intense headache, a flow of sort entering her body, as if some stranger's soul entered hers. A wide array of emotions flew into her head wildly, emotions unfelt before and foreign to her repertoire. Drive, passion; a need for attention, a need for fame and glory. Loneliness. Wild memories took turn, so foggy as far as she tried to reach them in her mind. All of them escaped in the matter of a second, leaving deep confusion. “You look tidy perfect, Miss. Was today not perfect?” Perfect...it resonated in her mind infinitely. Small voices peered into her mind: « How was..your day at the t-..Eli..Eli..ELI! » . Liz lost it, her corset seemed so small and suffocating all sudden. She gasped for air, as subtle as possible. Her glance met again with the boy. Such pure eyes. He turned around, asking for brand new clothes for her but it was apparent he was questioned. As he turned around, again, Eli's vision flashed. Ears...ears? « N-No..the dress...it's a fine dress, clothes. Say, boy..? Have we met before? » She lifted her hand slowly, reaching for something invisible on top of the boy's head. She was met only with hair, and fluffy hair. |
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Post by quinnquinn on May 7, 2015 6:31:15 GMT -8
- 1884 -He turned back to the woman in his usual speechlessness, but concerned for her visible discomfort. Though he met with her hand on his head instead, to which he took a quick step back. “I-Is there something on my head? What is on my head..?” the boy lifted a hand from his makeshift clothing to pat his hair, wondering if there was anything at all. He too just felt hair. Realising he’d carelessly (not to mention shamelessly) opened his cloak again, his cheeks turned red as he shuffled the folds of the sheet back closed. He was nervous now, he hadn't meant to do that... twice, now. He hadn't bothered pulling it up over his shoulders again, frozen and lost with what to do next.
“This might fit,” he was called back from his embarrassment by one of the two searching for clothes. They introduced themselves to her as they offered a clean dress of some kind, and it promptly reminded the indecent boy to do the same. So much for first impressions, though he didn’t seem to care much for those.
“I-I am Owen, Miss.” he bowed again, making sure to hold his sheets tightly this time. “Are you alright, M-Miss..?” he looked back into her green eyes, his own twitching slightly as he slowly calmed himself down. "Who are you, Miss?"
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