Who:
nvrtheeasyway and
somarium Where: Noctaerium
Style: Starts in third, but either is good
Status: OPEN! Come and make Lara live your worst fear, since I couldn't decide on one for her XD
Warnings: None for now (will be edited if needed)
(
A dead world, a dark path. Not even crossroads to choose from all the bloodred carpets before me. )
Comments 18
In the room was a small group of strange monsters. They weren't noctaere, but cie'th, creatures of Fang's own world -- of her own nightmare.
As she staggered upright, she noticed Lara and shouted at her, "Get out of here, I can handle this!"
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"Yes, clearly." Her tone was sarcastic, but still she threw her light stick at the monsters, catching their attention as she pulled her other gun.
"Come on, pretty face, show me what you got..." she taunted them as she opened fire on them.
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"They're not what you think." How was she going to explain this? Did she even have time? "No time to explain, but short version is this. They're my friends, and if they have to die, I'd rather they die by my own hands."
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"...You seriously need new, better friends."
A scream from elsewhere in the castle reminded Lara of the other passengers on the train.
"How can they be contained?" She wasn't about to let monsters run around and terrorize innocent people, friends or not.
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She could hear heavy breathing and when she heard the scream, she turned around. The door had closed behind her, leaving her in the thick blackness, but still she moved towards the sound. After a short moment, her light touched a curled black armor on the floor. The sheer size of it, as well as the thick accent had given away the identity of the form on the floor.
Lara cautiously approached the man:
"Your name is Abel, for a starter..." Had this strange room robbed the Frenchman of his memories?
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She barely knows the Frenchman, but when his twin yells at him that he's nothing more than a shell, she grits her teeth, bringing up her gun once more. She aims at the head, her own gaze cold and angry:
"That's where you're wrong..."
Even with the very few interactions they had, Lara doesn't agree with the shadow-self of the Frenchman. A soulless man wouldn't have warned a complete stranger against potential enemies. An empty shell wouldn't have offered to cook her her favorite meal from home. Even if one could argue that all those gestures might have been born out of the desire to hurt her, they had been done anyhow. If Abel had truly been only a vessel, he wouldn't have cared for ( ... )
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