Desecration Smile

[Arage Bao]

Black scorched walls, melted floors, souls of the dead, living and the in between wisping amongst the realm. It was a world made up of the dreams of a dead man, the rapture (or creativism of a long bygone ancient, as the sleeping man liked to put it) had taken him slightly unaware.

He had long since put aside the material and physical, instead he had slept and in his waking trances he had created, or perhaps that was just a flyig fancy inspired by the egomania still embedded into his very being.

Perhaps, it all had been worlds, dreams and realms of the if's and maybe's. Maybe he didn't have anything to do with their creation and he had simply playef the age old spectator, witnessing events of thr now, later and never.

A peculiar notion for the dreaming man.

He sat within the construct of hope, his eyes flitting over the possibilities. This place had been found by him within the dead lands of the Netherland, it was not as fancy as the rolling hills of blades, or the wastes of the leaping poison, but for the time being it was his.

His head edged slightly, a new tune, broken and yet familiar. The dreaming man smiled and finally spoke. Voice cracked under the stress of disuse. He had not produced these syllables for a long time.

"Evelynn."

A statement of welcome, acknowledgment of her presence? Or something entirely else.

You never knew with Ovmar.

 

[Evelynn]

A fat fly buzzed.

Lazily it rolled around the putrid suffocating air, zig-zagging in that aimless way that fat flies tended to do. It wasn't poisonous, nor venomous. It didn't devour its prey in an unstoppable swarm. No epidemics to ruin the crops, to mark the sign of the coming God driven apocalypse.

Just a fly. Found where there is stench, found where there is death.

It landed atop porcelain flesh, stopping to rub those front two arms in the way that flies loved to do, as if they were scheming inside those minute brains. It crawled across the ghastly pale, onto harsh and mottled red, open and festering flesh where it promptly disappeared into a wanting eye socket.

Jaaaaaarrrrreeeeeeeeed.

A mental whisper, of course in harmony with the world around them. Sinister, undying, vengeful. Perhaps not seeking vengeance against one [member="Jared Ovmar"] but rather everlasting contempt for those who could still draw in breath in the lands beyond the void. But we don't have to worry about that any more. Do we, mon cher?

Skeletal, rotting from the inside and out. Little Evelynn Dorn had never been born, never been raised, never been prepared to manage the horrors of Chaos, but when death came knocking at the tearing hands of the wrong it was she who was placed into eternal damnation while the real monstrosity was conspicuously absent from torment.

She moved in a manner unnatural, holding onto the construct of physicality, unable to use limbs where the flesh and muscle had eroded away to leave yellowing bones. Evelynn oh-so-disjointedly crawled towards Ovmar, through the black scorched walls and the melted floors.

Hhhhheeeeeeeelllllpp mmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

 

[Arage Bao]

‘Mmmm. Hmmm. Hm. Mhmm. Mhhmm.’ the melody of want buzzed on the baseline of the fly, it caressed the airs and made people want to remember times of better, times when things weren’t yet so… complicated, kark to the new level and more. But time was only fluid for a handful of people, one who possessed the orb and yet even he could not go against the wishes of the Force, another who had taken her freedom and erased herself from time itself and then there was the third. He had seen much, the sleeping one, and so it was that when Ovmar slowly, lazily even opened his eyes, he did not seem perturbed by the gruesome scene whatsoever.

The former Sith Lord had transcended, visit planes and seen sights that would make the heartless cry and the most valiant shudder in fear. No, the sight of [member="Evelynn"] did not make him cower in fear anymore than a fly would make a lion think twice. Ovmar simply studied the crawling form, the room shifted as his mind and memories went back to Endor and what had transpired there.

Finally then, he spoke, yet his lips did not move.

As she entered his reality, crawled into the fabric that his will held together, she would feel just a smidgen of serenity giving her tormented form and mind some peace, some measure of calmness; just enough to qualify as a worthy conversation partner.

‘You disturb my rest, why?’

 

[Evelynn]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

An inch of serenity maybe, yes, to give but a pinch of clarity but when all sanity is gone, where do we find ourselves then?

Her mind had been the first thing lost upon the descent to Chaos, of course most would reckon that Evelynn's mind was long since gone, since Nemene, since Kaine, since Endor. However she had come to the after-world more intact than she had even been, just so the degradation could begin anew.

When the mind was gone, then followed the flesh.

Slowly what was physical and what was mental eroded, sifting out the poor unfortunate souls who could not stand to suffer and stew with true Sith Lords. The girl (who was much older than what a girl was, but remained so) had been caught in her state of decay when things changed. A realm appeared, one which she had crawled to on bone and tattered flesh.

Still upon the ground, which shifted to gain earthy properties beneath her, the shambling necrosis formerly known as Evelynn Dorn looked up.

I waaaaant to gooo hhhhhome...