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Author Topic: ((update 8.8. 07)) Awakening  (Read 21049 times)
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Rue
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« on: November 11, 2006, 12:37:55 pm »

A LITTLE EXPLANATION AND INTRODUCTION TO THE STORY

This is going to be my first sim-story, and because it´s writting in a certain universe (or fandom) most of you will not know, I feel it necessary to post a few words on the start.

The entire thing takes place in a fantasy setting: post - apocalyptic Earth, where humanity is in decline, ravaged by insanity, conflict, disease and infertility. A new race has risen mysteriously from the ghettos and ruins of the northern cities: humanity has evolved into a new species, which is stronger, sharper and more beautiful than any that have come before. They possess psychic powers and the ability, through a process called inception, to transform human males into creatures like themselves. They are the Wraeththu. They are destined to inherit the earth. Humanity has only a few years left before they have lost control completely, but they will not give up without a fight. Wraeththu have begun to spread across the continent and beyond. They have glimpsed their own potential, and now want to understand and wield their unique abilities. They have formed tribes and councils, each ascribing to varying beliefs, but all united in the Wraeththu spirit. Through magic, passion and war, Wraeththu will change the face of theworld forever. They must learn from humanity’s mistakes, or risk extinction themselves. Their challenge is to rise above their origins, to understand who and what they are, before it is too late.

Wraeththu are hermaphroditic beings; a physically mature har, when clothed, closely resembles a young, human male. Whilst obviously masculine, they are uncannily feminine at the same time and posses slightly altered, both male and female reproductive organs. In comparison to mankind, Wraeththu appear ageless, but this is not strictly the case. Har bodies are not subject to cellular deterioration, but on reaching the age of 150 years or thereabouts, they begin to "fade". They have the power to change the sons of men to be like themselves, this happens through "inception", a ritual that begins with sharing of blood. Within three days of being infected with Wraeththu blood, the convert's body had completed the necessary changes.

..........

DISCLAIMER:

This is a purely fictional story about a young boy, Mystére. He finds himself in feverish state, because he has just been incepting and is becoming a wraeththu at the beginning of the story.

For those of you who will find the story confusing - the adult Mystére is a wraeththu and anything that happens to him is the presence, while his teenage and child (human) versions will be used in memories, dreams, fantasies, etc. Whatever is presence will be written in normal font, while the fantasy/memory/dream parts will be written like this. Smiley

The story will be told half from Mystére´s point of view (thus in first person), half from a general point of view (3rd person) - when needed.

The main characters will be listed here in the first post, so you don´t get lost.

MYSTÉRE (main character) in his teenage form:



LEEF Leef Sariel, the captain of Parasiel army

« Last Edit: August 07, 2007, 10:17:02 pm by Rue » Logged

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Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
starlucid
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« Reply #1 on: November 11, 2006, 12:42:27 pm »

hmm very interesting I love fantasy and this looks like it's going to be a great tale!  look forward to reading it!
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If you like ghost stories read my new Sim story..
Solitario's Don't Die..
http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=30329
Rue
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« Reply #2 on: November 11, 2006, 12:47:00 pm »

wow, you were quick... just going to post the 1st part :devill:
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Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
Rue
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« Reply #3 on: November 11, 2006, 12:47:58 pm »

AWAKENING: PART 1

MYSTÉRE




Noise...everywhere... A deafening sound of what seems to be over a thousand of little feet in heavy boots... They are stomping in military ranks all over the bedside table, accompanied by mighty buzz. Filling the air, violently shaking me awake, making me want to screem. Go away, ********, just go away! – but my lips are tightly sealed. Somewhere at the bottom of my tormented mind, a memory starts to form itself and I try to push it back, but even that costs me much more powers than I actually have. The piece of the shattered mirror that is my past has already  enrooted down there and started to swell, grow, expand...



Children playing in the woods. A girl and a boy, little angels – five, maybe six years old. The air smells of late summer, the afterstorm heat that still remembers all the little rainbows caught in each teardrop fallen from the sky. „Etienne! Briony!“ A familiar voice coming from between the trees announces its dinnertime and both children run home, clad in a haze of laughter and innocence and flying skirts and unkempt hair. It takes just one uncanny leap and the boy´s foot stays stuck in what looks like a hole in the Earth... yet is a nest of bees. The angry hive swarms out of the earth like messengers from Hell and surround the children. Angsty shrieks disrupted the peaceful atmosphere. Panic. Screaming.



I woke up wrapped in cold bandage, sore and feverish but alive. The first word I managed to mutter was the name of my playmate, the best friend of my childhood, but my mother just shook her troubled head. Briony had succumbed. I wouldn´t see her anymore.

I feel my mind stir at the bottom of the muddy lake of unconsciousness, fed by the dark rivers of sleep. Subconsciously, I know I want to wipe the insects away, make them stop, squish them with a shoe or an old book, anything, but lifting an arm, or even a finger, still seems to be an unbeatable task. But this wanting is a start, a sign of will or what little is left of it in me. Where there is will, there is life as well. That means I made it alive. I survived again. Only then, my lips part in a heavy moan that, surprisingly, comes out as nothing more than a wheezy stream of breath. Whatever happened to my voice? I ask myself, the three days of inhuman screaming already walled up safely in the mind depository of things too scary to be thought of. The weight of the eylashes almost unbearable on my cheeks. Already searching for tiny changes, I ponder – have they been so thick, so long - before? Reluctant to open my eyes, afraid of more hallucinations, the primitive, the carnal... afraid of them becoming reality. What would happen now? There is something delicete and secure in pain, suffering and agony... but what lays beyond?



Unnaturally soft hands caressing my face, making me want to melt and surreder at the very moment. With Kamese I always feel like going down into an abyss, but he never lets me fall completely, never lets me taste the sweetness at the bottom. What is sex but the binding of self to other? Kamese says it´s magic once I am a har, and certain death now. But it won´t take long and this abyss will cease to be forbidden... just a few more days, and I know that no matter how scary the fall, the landing will be soft.

„Deep in thoughts? Look at me, my beautiful one... How I love your eyes. Two cups of hot chocolate, a thick and sweet invitation to drown in.“ Laughter.
„No, not drown, rather...take a sip. Wouldn´t want you to drown.“
„It would be a sweet death...“




Hint of a kiss and then... anxious, heavy silence. A faint, fearful voice. „Kamese? Will you... will you come to see me during those three days?“
„I will have my own rituals to attend, but I will be there whenever I can. When you wake up, my face will be the first thing these beautiful eyes of yours will see. I swear that, Étienne...“


The room is empty and silent, so silent that I can almost hear the clicking movements of my eyeballs in their sockets, flickering across the dark room, the sparse furniture, the wooden ceiling where I´d seen unexistent worms so many times during those last three days, attempting to hide under the blanket that threatened to burn my sensitive skin, yet I could still feel them eating me alive. Dried vomit on the floor. The flies that had woken me swarming on the small table, their hairy black and flashing green bodies covering something that seems like a puddle of blood. I attempt not to gag, but there is nothing left in my stomach that could possibly be brought up anyway. HE isn´t around, isn´t with me.



„K....“ I swallow the lump in my throat, wetting the dry lips with my tongue. „Kamese....?“ That´s better. Still, deadly silence is the only answer I get. Please, come for me, take me from my body and its pains... A creak. Not the door, it was the window. Good, at least some fresh air, the room smells terribly – my doing, of course. I need someone. It ceases to be important if it is Kamese or the two hara two took care of me since it started. „Kamese! Emeni!!! Gaia!!! Do you hear me!!“ Have I disgusted them all? They knew me as a graceful, witty and playful boy, pretty face, sweetness of youth. Perhaps they hadn´t known, how the three days would distort my body and my mind, perhaps they couldn´t take it... In the end, one always has to help oneself. Indoctrinated into this society, I accepted its rules and offered my body willingly, knowing I will rediscover it anew... with Kamese. I had to be changed to be able to survive, and I knew for years already. During the last year, all I did in my nights was counting days – how many times do I have to wake up until I can be fully and eternally his? Because I was to be his, that had been decided a long time ago, and that was what was living for. But he didn´t come.



When I take it slow, getting up proves to be painful, yet possible. The water in the bathroom is cold, but it makes me feel less dirty and awakens my senses. Shuddering, I wrap myself into the velvet dressing gown – why didn´t they leave any towels or proper clothing for me? And through the turgid voices in my head rang a single hum that made the blood in my veins stop flowing.



„Will I get a new name?“
„Yes, you will. After inception.“
„Why not now? Are you afraid I will die during althaia? Do you think I won´t need it?“
Laughter. „Mystére... You will be Mystére...“


They left me there, because they THOUGHT ME DEAD! But I will show them. I will prove myself. I haven´t disappointed, not me, I´m not as weak as they had thought. Not a foot downstairs either. I slip into Kamese´s heavy boots, one size too big for me – gods themselves must be laughing at the image of me wearing them with the dressing gown – and drag my body over the doorstep into the darkness outside. It´s night again, and in the faint starlight – has noone lit the lamps today? – I stumble over something and nearly fall down.



Muttering silent curses, I look down and freeze again, taking a few minutes to realize that the thing in my way is no forgotten bag, but Emeni´s dead body. Looking around, I discover more similar heaps on the street, shattered caressly like pieces of trash, but the could that has just covered the moon and the tears in my eyes make it impossible to guess which body belongs to Kemese... if any, because there is still the faintest hope...



An insane little laugh forms itself in my throat. I had been counting with my possible death. Being the only one who survived was something that had never crossed my mind. Like a machine, I walk to the closest corpse and roll it over to see the har´s face.
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Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
starlucid
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« Reply #4 on: November 11, 2006, 01:05:38 pm »

wow! very different loved it so far!
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Solitario's Don't Die..
http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=30329
Dr Pony
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« Reply #5 on: November 11, 2006, 02:32:29 pm »

Very Cool Story
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oddball011
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« Reply #6 on: November 11, 2006, 03:29:29 pm »

Awesome story

In the picture of the little kids were did you find the little boy's hair?
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Rue
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« Reply #7 on: November 11, 2006, 04:32:43 pm »

Quote from: oddball011
Awesome story

In the picture of the little kids were did you find the little boy's hair?


It´s from http://sims2sisters.sme.sk/ but for some reason the site doesn´t display for me in the moment. They also have a site here http://www.thesimsresource.com/artists/sims2sisters/ maybe you can find the hair there too, I can see it shows a picture of the same style for women there.
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Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
Rue
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« Reply #8 on: November 14, 2006, 05:21:48 pm »

PART 2: LEEF



Captain Leef Sariel har Parasiel was fed up, which was most unusual. He’d taken far too long to accomplish a simple task. All he’d had to do was to harvest some lignum vitae from an area of the southern forest and return to Galhea. The parsics used the rare hardwood for ceremonial swords. A new sword was needed to present to Lord Swift on the anniversary of his becoming the archon of their tribe, an occasion which was generally celebrated as riotously as possible.



After a number of weeks of trekking, he and two subordinates had taken a further week to find a suitable tree. He’d sent them back to Galhea with the precious cargo yesterday and today he’d paid the forest master for the privilege of extracting the wood by bartering his horse. Usually the parsics managed to get the wood free, but this particular time they’d been forced to infringe upon an area that was settled and farmed. If the lignum didn’t get back to Galhea in time for the carpenter and blacksmith to assemble the sword, then Leef would lose face. It was not something he envisaged as being useful to his career.



He was a day behind his men and trying to catch up. Now he’d wrenched his ankle into the bargain. That required half a day to heal so he was stuck in the forest, next to a stream for refreshment, with the weather looking inclement overhead. Just what he needed. The thought of trudging through mud for the next couple of weeks until he got back to base did not improve his mood.



But, being Leef Sariel, he was never irritated for long. The black clouds passed during the course of the afternoon, and by evening he was back on route, much fitter in body and spirit. Since he had rested for most of the day, he decided to press on through the night. The woods did not disturb him. He’d ridden through Gebbadon before and been hardly affected by the blight of the place. The only thing that had ever affected him had been when Lord Swift decided to prefer Calanthe har Aralis over him during the archon’s feybraiha. But that was the past, and the past, as they say, is a foreign country.



By ten o’clock that night, he’d come upon another settlement. He decided to walk straight through it rather than stick to the forest, as it would cut another few hours off his journey. Dirt tracks masqueraded as streets and the area seemed preternaturally quiet, as if all the villagers had left. No lights burned in the houses and no dogs barked to herald the arrival of a stranger.



Then, as he rounded a corner, he came upon a massacre. Bodies lay like heaps of discarded rubbish, strangely poignant in the moonlight. A young har dressed in a gown and boots was bending over one of them.

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Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
jerrand
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« Reply #9 on: November 15, 2006, 03:46:52 pm »

Cool! This is really starting to catch my interest....Keep going Smiley
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Rue
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« Reply #10 on: November 17, 2006, 10:50:33 pm »

PART 3: MYSTÉRE

Kemese´s body was maybe the twentieth one I discovered laying in the dust of the main street, although I am not entirely sure... I didn´t count them. I only know that a long time had passed before I finally came to kneel by his side, prolonged even by my lack of strenght... long enough for me to hope that perhaps, somehow, he had been spared. Of course, I should have known better – had he survived that pointless massacre, he would have found a way to let me know, but the child in me refused to believe the obvious less seen with my own eyes. So I kept searching... walking through the darkness, and I forgot about the complete exhaustion I had been feeling just a little while ago. Driven by madness and despair, I never stopped bending over my lifeless friends, my tribe to be, mentally preparing myself for what was to come. And come it did.



My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. His body was not left behind in some unnatural position, nor were there any visible wounds or traces of blood on his body. One of his arms folded, he might have been sleeping, except his chest wasn´t moving in the usual calming rise and fall. Softly I laid my hand upon him, a gentle touch he couldn´t feel. I bent my head close and half enveloped him, pressing my body onto his as if I could nurse him to life by my touch. „Please... Kemese, please...“ Finally I found the wound at the back of his head, still wet, blood covering his beautiful hair, which erased the last faint glimpse of hope. And with noone around to see me, I felt entitled to start sobbing.

When I was a little boy, my mother always tought me that death is a natural part of life. I still feared it, more so after the unfortunate death of my little girl friend. For me, death was exact and merciless, an enemy to hate and fight against in that lost battle of life. No one escapes its clutches, and no one long escapes the harsh reality of dealing with the loss of someone dear, but this semblant fairness can´t lessen the pain. Not in the slightest.  



At the age of seven, I once heard someone calling it the „long sleep“. Since the moment, sleep too became my foe. Night after night, I would lay in my bed, finding countless little tasks to employ my mind with, trying not to fall into slumber, using all my willpower to keep me heavy lids from falling, believing blindly that perhaps if I found a way to overcome sleep, the same willpower would help me to keep myself alive, out of the Death´s reach. Usually, I surrendered eventually, mentally yelling at myself in the mornings, or I managed to stay awake and kept dozing off then during the day. Either way, I learnt that my efforts on that field were and would always be fruitless, but the hathred and reluctancy to go to bed stayed with me... until Kemese changed it.


I never talked to him about it, afraid that he might think me crazy, but I was in love... and suddenly I wanted to dream about him. About our future. Sometimes, he would steal into my room, or let me stay in his house overnight, and we would spend the night chatting, lauging like children, cuddling and touching here and there, knowing more isn´t allowed. Then we would fall asleep in each others arms, the sky already whitening on the East, and all at once sleep was welcome and precious, shared with another.



That was over now. Beyond redemption, like a dream, and my new life would also end as soon as it started, I knew that much. The ritual wasn´t completed... the most pleasurable part of it, the prize for my suffering was missing, and I knew what that meant. There was noone left to complete my make over, and even if I had the chance, I would never let someone else have me, never let them take what I wanted to give to Kemese. In fact, I wanted to cross the bridge to the other side as soon as possible and meet him there. What point was there to living without the one I lived for? I sat quietly by, remained faithful, my sobs fainter and fainter – I have exhausted myself. The tears though would not stop flowing.



Later, I found a better position and placed my head on his chest, like I so often did in sleep, intending to lay like that until my last breath, warming his coldness with my fever. How long would it take? Would it be painful again, delirous, or would I just fade away? Thoughts swirled through my mind like in those sleepless nights, the corpse under my body becoming stiff. His soul, his spiritual body, the eternal one... where was it? And where would my soul go? I could remember my wraeththu teacher speaking about their Gods, about Aghama, just as I recalled my mother praying to the human God, Jesus. If she was dead too, she´d surely gone to Heaven...and Kemese... he would exist in the other plane he believed in, with the dehara. But what about me? I was stuck on the way, neither human nor wraeththu... perhaps my soul was destined to wander in darkness till the end of times, an outcast. The thought made me shiver.



I must have fallen asleep or unconscious... either way I didn´t hear the har until he was just a few steps away from me, a combination of beauty and danger in the moonlight. We didn´t get strangers were often, the villige was not an area loved by tourists, and there was nothing of particular importance around. My first and only thought was that this person was responsible for the massacre and returned to enjoy the sight. Very well then, at least he would end my waiting. Come on. Finish me off.



My tongue, surprisingly, refused to cooperate with my mind and instead of this silent wish, I voiced a hysterical moan. „Get away!!! Leave us alone!!!“ My hand was searching for Kemese´s dagger. Like if there was an „us“. Like if there was someone or something to fight for.
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Read my story:
Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
velvet69
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« Reply #11 on: November 18, 2006, 03:47:54 am »

Really good story I hope to see more soon
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wawayaya
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« Reply #12 on: November 18, 2006, 12:19:23 pm »

Beautifully done!
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Rue
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« Reply #13 on: November 18, 2006, 03:19:01 pm »

Aw thank you and thank you!
Velvet, weren´t you the one who liked Laurell K. Hamilton?
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Read my story:
Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
Rue
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« Reply #14 on: November 27, 2006, 10:39:08 am »

TEMPORALLY SUSPENDED.

I have about 3 parts written but game died, pictures can´t be taken.

PLEASE HELP!!!
http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?p=442389#post442389
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Read my story:
Awakening
Thiede won the spot of bassist in: http://www.insimenator.org/showthread.php?t=27739 WHITE CLAUDIA
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