[ At first, the darkness wrapping him feels almost familiar, but the ache of silence pressing in on him is quick to dispel that notion. The abyss is many things, but never this. Water peels off his armored form, and while he's not faint of heart, it's a skin-crawling sensation to feel it cling.
(To feel touch once again; not borrowed through another's memory, but true. To feel weariness tugging at a body wholly his...?
Well. He can handle those questions once he's not afloat in the middle of the ocean.)
The sea stretches to the horizon, lightless, endless, and there's only one way to any land at all. Fray is nothing if not determined, and so when the water shifts to glass beneath his feet, made solid by his surety, he takes one step and then another, steadily heading to his destination.
But if he hears someone cry out, sees or hears another's struggle, he changes his course; reaching without hesitation into the dark water to grasp their hand, to pull them up, to offer his hand to the drowning. ]
Walk with me. [ His voice is unwavering and brooks no question, projected perfectly with strength from beneath the concealing veil of his mask. You can do it, you will do it, he is not offering you a choice here.
Or maybe he's simply walking beside you, and you've encountered each other on the surface. Though it's clear he's observing you by the way his head turns, he doesn't seem much of a conversationalist... ]
b. feasting hall
[ If you ever wondered if it was possible for someone without even the hint of a facial expression to simply radiate disapproval, Fray certainly does. Clad in dark, shimmering robes and delicate strings of gold jewellery that seem to have somehow attached themselves to the pauldrons and replaced the longcoat of his regular armor, the knight paces around the hall and stands before each pedestal, contemplating the phantoms atop them, before finally, reluctantly taking a seat. ]
I can't say I'm much for these sorts of affairs. [ There's a dryness to his tone, but also a faint tinge of morbid amusement, as if it's a joke only he understands. ] Not much of the reputable type...
[ At later stages of the banquet, Fray can be seen reluctantly poking at some dish or another, facemask removed but veil decidedly not; he seems somewhat faded, less vivid than before. He's getting Very pressured to eat literally anything, and for a variety of reasons, he really doesn't want to...
But eventually, he has to; obeying his own, newly unpleasant instincts, if nothing else. Hunger snaps through him, red and raw and visceral, and though he approaches it like he's taking medicine -- he bites down on the taste of blood, and the memory comes forth, unbidden.
(cw for impalement, death)
It's a bitter loss, but it'd be less so if he didn't know what the consequences of it were to be. It's simply too much for him to handle; at the very least, though, Sid and Rielle have gotten free. He can only hope that Sid had some goddamn swiving sense and gotten Rielle to safety rather than trying to help him.
The breath goes out of his lungs as the knight shoves the sword through his gut with a triumphant shout, the pain radiant and sudden as it knocks him out of his trance, severing that moment of synergy with the darkness within.
(And yet, the abyss claims him as he bleeds; lovingly, without judgement. He can feel himself sinking, fragmenting...is this what death ought to feel like? He's not sure...)
He feels cold and hot all at once. Pain fractures up his back as the knight pulls his sword out, kicks him down the stairs, leaves his body where it lies. He crumples against the wall, pulling himself upright with the last of his strength, he'll be damned if he dies without some measure of dignity... The dim clatter of metal makes his senses swirl in confusion.
Generous of them to give me my sword back when I can't even use it on them, is his last, bitter thought.
Something hard is in his hand. The stone, still warm -- even hot to the touch -- tumbles from his palm, and he slips into darkness and death, and knows no more.
Fray simply stiffens, as if this memory is somewhat worn for him, but anyone else experiencing it: enjoy the Visceral Experience Of Being Fatally Impaled!
If he's not begrudgingly attempting the somewhat alarming ordeal of eating (still without actually showing his face, the veil makes it easy here) he's likely simply looking around the hall or observing his fellow diners. Though his eyes can't be seen through the mask he wears, his attention can be keenly felt, if it lands on you - as if he's looking for something.
(ooc: feel free to assume a dish for fray to Very Reluctantly eat/to be affected by besides the one provided! i can basically roll with anything o/) ]
c. unworthy
Hells--
[ What a time to not have his gods-damned sword.
There are people to be saved, of course. Why would it be anything else? He could run, likely, but for a dark knight - even one weaponless - there is no running.
That ever-present friend, anger, roils beneath his ribs and skin with hungry heat; his heart pounds, his breath quickens, and then he hears the first crack as his body begins to warp under the strain of the beast's presence.
Spine-chilling clarity dawns. This is not the malleability he is used to. It's something else.
Some remnant of the overwhelming light of the First? Some void-bound infection from the Thirteenth? He bites down on any complaints - useless as of now - and runs towards the thing, trying to drag people away from it.
All the while, trying to keep himself from changing more, futile though it might be. His breath, his heartbeat, it's spinning wildly out of control; white and gold cracks through his armor like he's stone underneath, misshapen feathers poking their way out.
Listen. Listen...
His heart pounds in his ears, his gut wrenching with how wrong it feels.
What in the hells has he gotten himself into? ]
d. wildcard
[ Anything else, i'll roll with it! i'll be playing Fray as an offering, specifically a seraph, hence the feathers and all. since i think everybody starts out looking kinda normal he doesn't look too weird Yet but as threads progress i am sure that will change hahah ]
fray myste | ffxiv | new player
[ At first, the darkness wrapping him feels almost familiar, but the ache of silence pressing in on him is quick to dispel that notion. The abyss is many things, but never this. Water peels off his armored form, and while he's not faint of heart, it's a skin-crawling sensation to feel it cling.
(To feel touch once again; not borrowed through another's memory, but true. To feel weariness tugging at a body wholly his...?
Well. He can handle those questions once he's not afloat in the middle of the ocean.)
The sea stretches to the horizon, lightless, endless, and there's only one way to any land at all. Fray is nothing if not determined, and so when the water shifts to glass beneath his feet, made solid by his surety, he takes one step and then another, steadily heading to his destination.
But if he hears someone cry out, sees or hears another's struggle, he changes his course; reaching without hesitation into the dark water to grasp their hand, to pull them up, to offer his hand to the drowning. ]
Walk with me. [ His voice is unwavering and brooks no question, projected perfectly with strength from beneath the concealing veil of his mask. You can do it, you will do it, he is not offering you a choice here.
Or maybe he's simply walking beside you, and you've encountered each other on the surface. Though it's clear he's observing you by the way his head turns, he doesn't seem much of a conversationalist... ]
b. feasting hall
[ If you ever wondered if it was possible for someone without even the hint of a facial expression to simply radiate disapproval, Fray certainly does. Clad in dark, shimmering robes and delicate strings of gold jewellery that seem to have somehow attached themselves to the pauldrons and replaced the longcoat of his regular armor, the knight paces around the hall and stands before each pedestal, contemplating the phantoms atop them, before finally, reluctantly taking a seat. ]
I can't say I'm much for these sorts of affairs. [ There's a dryness to his tone, but also a faint tinge of morbid amusement, as if it's a joke only he understands. ] Not much of the reputable type...
[ At later stages of the banquet, Fray can be seen reluctantly poking at some dish or another, facemask removed but veil decidedly not; he seems somewhat faded, less vivid than before. He's getting Very pressured to eat literally anything, and for a variety of reasons, he really doesn't want to...
But eventually, he has to; obeying his own, newly unpleasant instincts, if nothing else. Hunger snaps through him, red and raw and visceral, and though he approaches it like he's taking medicine -- he bites down on the taste of blood, and the memory comes forth, unbidden.
(cw for impalement, death)
It's a bitter loss, but it'd be less so if he didn't know what the consequences of it were to be. It's simply too much for him to handle; at the very least, though, Sid and Rielle have gotten free. He can only hope that Sid had some goddamn swiving sense and gotten Rielle to safety rather than trying to help him.
The breath goes out of his lungs as the knight shoves the sword through his gut with a triumphant shout, the pain radiant and sudden as it knocks him out of his trance, severing that moment of synergy with the darkness within.
(And yet, the abyss claims him as he bleeds; lovingly, without judgement. He can feel himself sinking, fragmenting...is this what death ought to feel like? He's not sure...)
He feels cold and hot all at once. Pain fractures up his back as the knight pulls his sword out, kicks him down the stairs, leaves his body where it lies. He crumples against the wall, pulling himself upright with the last of his strength, he'll be damned if he dies without some measure of dignity... The dim clatter of metal makes his senses swirl in confusion.
Generous of them to give me my sword back when I can't even use it on them, is his last, bitter thought.
Something hard is in his hand. The stone, still warm -- even hot to the touch -- tumbles from his palm, and he slips into darkness and death, and knows no more.
Fray simply stiffens, as if this memory is somewhat worn for him, but anyone else experiencing it: enjoy the Visceral Experience Of Being Fatally Impaled!
If he's not begrudgingly attempting the somewhat alarming ordeal of eating (still without actually showing his face, the veil makes it easy here) he's likely simply looking around the hall or observing his fellow diners. Though his eyes can't be seen through the mask he wears, his attention can be keenly felt, if it lands on you - as if he's looking for something.
(ooc: feel free to assume a dish for fray to Very Reluctantly eat/to be affected by besides the one provided! i can basically roll with anything o/) ]
c. unworthy
Hells--
[ What a time to not have his gods-damned sword.
There are people to be saved, of course. Why would it be anything else? He could run, likely, but for a dark knight - even one weaponless - there is no running.
That ever-present friend, anger, roils beneath his ribs and skin with hungry heat; his heart pounds, his breath quickens, and then he hears the first crack as his body begins to warp under the strain of the beast's presence.
Spine-chilling clarity dawns. This is not the malleability he is used to. It's something else.
Some remnant of the overwhelming light of the First? Some void-bound infection from the Thirteenth? He bites down on any complaints - useless as of now - and runs towards the thing, trying to drag people away from it.
All the while, trying to keep himself from changing more, futile though it might be. His breath, his heartbeat, it's spinning wildly out of control; white and gold cracks through his armor like he's stone underneath, misshapen feathers poking their way out.
Listen. Listen...
His heart pounds in his ears, his gut wrenching with how wrong it feels.
What in the hells has he gotten himself into? ]
d. wildcard
[ Anything else, i'll roll with it! i'll be playing Fray as an offering, specifically a seraph, hence the feathers and all. since i think everybody starts out looking kinda normal he doesn't look too weird Yet but as threads progress i am sure that will change hahah ]