[LAIR TASK] My Name is Death [Ren]

[kuropeco]

OOC

[ Task of Death: ] The Reaping
This task can be performed SOLO. However, it is recommended to have at least another player. You can do this with a max of three players. They may go anywhere in the Human World using the portal catacombs in the Lair. These catacombs lead to small human world towns only. All players must follow these steps to successfully harvest Fear from death.

gaia_crown [ Step 1: ]

- You reach a quiet town, and the first thing you see is a funeral procession. There is death heavy in the air, but not quite enough for a proper reaping. You will need to create more death.

All humans have 10 HP. The CAN be npced.

- Simply select a human target. If you have two players, you can BOTH attack the target until they die. If three, all three of you attack the target until they die. Use proper dice mechanics (battle dice mechanics), Fear charges CAN be used.
- All humans do +4 auto damage, if you are a Death clans member they only do +3 and Death clans members get a +2 attack modifier
- HOW IT WORKS: I am a stage 1 horseman. I roll 2d8 and get 4, 5. That means I do 9-8 modifier = 1 damage to the human. That human now has 9 HP. My partner then rolls 2d8 -8 and gets a final damage result of 8. The human is now DYING. Our group has TAKEN DOWN ONE human. We can now target another
- Make sure to post in your OOC Tally at the bottom of each post which human number you are on and their current HP as well as how many humans your group has taken down.
- When your group has killed AT LEAST 2 humans you can move on to the next phase. You can only take down a MAX of 4.

gaia_crown [ Step 2: ]

- Now it is time to reap, aka, harvest the humans. The atmosphere is just as important as the (dying) human itself, and while it may be nice to gain some additional Fear for Halloween, you have no love for Halloween, and really, there is no reason to add to the ghost population. You are going to do a mock reaping, without fully completing it. You are only harvesting the Fear before the human is entirely passed away.

Roll a 4-sided dice If odd, you harvest 1 Fear point from the body. If even, you harvest 2. You continue to watch and reap in their Fear until they are dead. It is up to you if you want to burn/ destroy/ send off /bury the body or just leave it.
- You must do this for EACH victim (per player) you harvest. The Fear amount is different harvested, as it sometimes depends on what the human is exactly going through in their death throes. All humans are npcable/ you can rp/ gm them. Ie: I am player one and we killed three humans. I will roll for human 1, and I roll a 4. 4 = even. I get 2 Fear points. I watch them die. I do this again for human 2, etc etc.

 

[kuropeco]

It had been a long time since Ren had felt this angry. And a long time since he had thought of his parents.

As a child all he had ever wanted was to leave, to get out of the house that he had been raised in and to do what he could to provide the best life for himself that was possible. It had not ever seemed likely that he would escape, but coming to Amityville had been an unexpected gold mine, a way of becoming home that Ren had not ever thought possible.

And LW...

The sky overhead was a dull grey when he arrived in the Human World, in a town called "Pontiac," as proclaimed by a moss ridden, splintered sign just on the outskirts that was half shrouded by overgrown trees and thick brush obscuring the letters. Ren made his way silently towards it and hovered near the edge, peering out around the side with narrowed eyes.

He could hear footsteps coming closer - a long procession was ahead, at least a dozen humans walking down the middle of town in a slow sort of march. Other than their shuffling steps, the town of Pontiac was quiet and dismal, the clouds blocking any sun that might have been visible at one point. Ren could taste the scent of death on the air from the direction of the humans, but it was not enough to finish his task.

If he could even finish. Ren felt the anger rise again, like the slow swelling of water, or the slow loss of air that made his chest feel tight and made breathing difficult. LW's face flashed before him, blood streaked and pained, and then Jove's, his father's face, his mother's, Medieval's, everything twisting and spinning before him until it was nothing more than a messy blur of colors, indistinguishable and confusing.

The humans were moving again. The anger swelled higher and higher.

Finish what you came here to start.  

[kuropeco]

He remembered the first time he had asked his mother why.

"Mother?"

She had turned her head, pale skin stretched across her body so that he could see the bones of her neck, the sharply defined shoulder blades beneath the simple sheath of a white dress. She never dressed elaborately, his mother, in spite of her innate gryphon nature and the desire for material wealth and status that had always been an integral part of their family. Her clothes were clean-cut and purposefully understated, clothes that would define her as someone of high status without the "unnecessary frivolity" of extravagant clothing.

Later on, when he was old enough to understand it better, Ren would laugh at the irony of that statement.

"Stop talking, Renaissance."

She never called him "Ren," just "Ren." It was always his full name, as though to remind him of what he was and where he came from and that he was always theirs.

It was why, when he had gotten to Amityville, that he had chosen to go by "Ren," just "Ren."

"Mother, why - "

"I said, stop talking."

She never liked too much talking. Too much talking meant too many answers, and Lila did not enjoy giving her children Answers. While her husband may have been the one to hold the power of the home, Lila was the one who knew how to handle the reigns.

"You realize this is for your own good, Renaissance."

He was crying - but the, he did often at that age, though he usually tried to hide it from his parents, who thought that crying was a sign of weakness. After a while his tears usually dried up, and after a few years, he simply stopped crying altogether, his eyes instead adopting a deadened look to them that became a regularity.

"But why, mother, I don't understand at all - "

Smack.

She had slapped him. His face was stinging, his head reeling. He curled up into himself, wings folding around his arms, hardly large enough to reach around his entire body.

"Because this is how it is."

It was not a real answer to him, but a real answer to her, who had always been taught that there was a right way to do things and a wrong way, and this was her right way.

To Lila, there was no wrong to this.

"This is how it is."

Now, some odd years later, standing beside a sign in a dull grey town with dull grey humans, Ren could see what his mother had meant by those words. There was no real explanation, only that that was how things were, how they had always been, how they would always be.

Even after escaping from the grasp of his parents, he was still trapped.

Moving closer to the procession, which was drawing nearer, moving to a cemetery that Ren could see just beyond the road, a little dingy and dark thing with weed covered graves and headstones overrun with brush and moss. They were mostly silent, but every once in a while a few muffled murmurs would escape, quiet whispers of consolation and memories that shivered through the little group like a wind.

At his side, Ren's fingers twitched, then shifted, his hand elongating, his fingers shaping themselves into sharply defined, curved talons, the talons of his natural gryphon form.

They were close now. Close enough that when they passed by he would be able to strike.

This is how it is.


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[ Ren HP: 46/50
Damage: 0

Human #1: 10/10 ]  

[kuropeco]

As the procession passed, Ren had waited until it was almost fully gone by before attempting anything. If he started at the beginning of the line of humans, there was the off chance that he would be overrun by them, and it was neither smart nor particularly productive to attack at the beginning of a line of humans.

No, he would wait until the end, and then he would make his move.

Several more long moments past, and still Ren did not do anything, though by now both of his hands had shifted, the talons curled into the rough, scale-like palm of what had once been a normal hand.

The clouds shifted above his head. A few drops of rain spattered the ground, causing the procession to stutter in its movements, a tremor of apprehension running through them. They had to hurry to make it to the graveyard in time, where a large white tent was erected for exactly this reason.

A few more steps. Ren's eyes flickered to the figure at the end of the line, a tall man with a thick head of dark hair and a stiff posture. Unlike the others, he seemed somehow detached from the procession, and every few seconds checked his watch as though impatient to be retrieved of his duty of attending the funeral of another.

Anger seared through Ren, hot and thick, burning through his veins. A few more crucial seconds passed, during which he stood poised and waiting behind the Pontiac sign, doused in the shadows from the overhanging branches and the cloudy grey sky.

And then he leapt, as silent as a shadow, clawed talons lashing out to catch the man around his neck and drag him backwards, into the safety behind the sign.

"What the - "

He didn't have much time to react. Ren's fist found his gut, and the human gave a gasp and a wheeze, dropping to one knee, clear terror etched in the lines of his young face as he looked up to the thing that was attacking him. He scrambled backwards, and hit the sign, Ren advancing closer, the talons elongating, his gaze sharp and wary.

"It's nothing personal."


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[ Ren HP: 42/50
Damage: 6

Human #1: 4/10 ]  

[kuropeco]

He was putting up a good fight. The human was kicking and struggling, lashing out with every chance he got, but Ren's fist was clenched in the front of his shirt, and he had lifted him off of the ground, pressing him back against the Pontiac sign so that the "o" and the "n" and the "t" were obscured from view, leaving it so that it now read Piac instead. He had tried to scream, but Ren had kicked him in the side of his head, and it had sent him staggering sideways, spitting and gasping and disoriented. Now he was too weak to scream, only letting out little mumbles, pleas for his health and his life.

I'm sorry, but you've lost that chance, Ren thought, and slammed his fist into the man's face this time, hearing the crack of bone beneath his knuckles.

It had started to rain.


------------------------------------

[ Ren HP: 38/50
Damage: 4

Human #1: 0/10 ]  

[kuropeco]

Ren left the first human lying unconscious behind the sign, moving out to look to see where the procession had gotten to now. The group of humans had obviously not noticed that one of their kind had gone missing - just as the human had not noticed that checking his watch consistently throughout a funeral was an insult to the memory of those that had passed on before him. No one had heard his struggle, or attempted to figure out where he had gone.

He had been forgotten about as easily as if he had simply not existed.

The rain was starting to come down harder now, sinking into Ren's shirt and wings, which made them feel heavy against his back, but he curled them together and started to make his way across the street towards where the funeral procession was heading. They were almost to the graveyard now - he was only a short distance away, close enough to make out the expressions on a few of their faces. Woeful, contemplative; a select few were very obviously thrown into the throes of sorrow, and were weeping openly, their tears mingling with the rain that had started to come down more steadily now, making Ren's hair stick to his neck in thick, ropey strands.

He could hear his mother's voice inside of his head.

"Don't cry, Renaissance."

Slap.

"Crying is for the weak."

Slap.

"You would do well not to do it again in front of either me or your father."

Slap.

She had never listened to him, even when he had tried to explain that he could not help the tears that fell, that they had just started, without warning, and that there was no way of stopping them, they were just there. All he had gotten was another slap and another reminder that that was not the way things went around there.

He had trained himself to not cry after that.

He took another man, because a part of him somehow could not bear to take a woman, in spite of the fact that these were humans and they were of little use other than trying to exterminate his entire world. But all he could see was the crying faces of the women, the stern, stoic looks of the men, and Ren decided that the men were easier.

The one he took this time was a shorter man, and stockier, with a round face and pale blonde hair. He looked older than the other, but not by much, as there weren't that many lines on his face and his hair had not started greying yet.

It was easy for Ren to maneuver himself behind a grave, and then lean over and snake a hand over the man's mouth and pull him back into the shadows before he could make a sound.


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[ Ren HP: 34/50
Damage: 0

Human #2: 10/10 ]  

[kuropeco]

"Get off of me! Get away! What the hell are you?!"

This one was quite a bit more vocal than the other, but by the time he had managed to wrench his face out from beneath Ren's hand, Ren had already dragged him back to behind the Pontiac sign again, and it was out of range of the hearing of the funeral procession. He was struggling madly against Ren, who winced a little when he felt a knee connect with his side, his wings flapping furiously behind his back.

"No one of consequence," replied Ren vaguely, and lashed out a kick to the man's side, hoping to incapacitate him. He doubled over, gasping for breath, and slid down the Pontiac sign clutching his stomach and looking up at Ren in utmost horror.

"You're not human."

That, at least, was something solid, something that Ren could attest to. Grimly he surveyed the man, his wings flapping again, tail flicking through the damp grass behind him.

"No," he said quietly. "No, I'm not."


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[ Ren HP: 30/50
Damage: 6

Human #2: 4/10 ]  

[kuropeco]

A part of him, a small part that he could not seem to bury deeply, no matter how hard he tried, was nagging at him, pressing into him, warning him the way a sense of nausea was a preemptive notion of throwing up. It stabbed at his side, making its way into his stomach and up to his heart, gripping at his chest and making it somewhat difficult to breathe.

Why are you doing this?

He didn't ask why anymore. Asking why had only made things worse.

You are not at that house anymore.

Perhaps not, thought Ren, staring down at the man on the ground through the rain that now pounded down around them, drowning out any sound from the procession across the street at the graveyard. All he could hear now was the tremendous rainfall and the sound of his own breathing. He couldn't even hear what the human man was saying anymore, or even his own thoughts.

Perhaps not, but I will never be rid of it.

He had tried for so long to escape his past, but it was never going to escape him. He was out of the house, but stuck in the nightmare, a perpetual nightmare that would never cease to plague him no matter what he did.

One last hit, and the man slumped to the ground.


------------------------------------

[ Ren HP: 30/50
Damage: 4

Human #2: 0/10 ]  

[kuropeco]

"Mother?"

"Renaissance, I thought I told you not to talk."

"Mother, I had a question."

"Fine. What is it?"

"I wanted to know...to know what you and Father...what you think of me."

"...what we think of you?"


He watches the humans as they lay there on the ground, the rain pouring down around him, drenching them all in an icy glaze of water and wind. They are both weak, extremely weakened, and their breathing is shallow. He has lain them side by side so that it's easier to work, but now, as he crouches beside them, he is left wondering what it is that he wants from this, what it is that he has done all of this for.

It was easier than expected. They had put up a good fight, and there is reddened skin and scratches all down Ren's arms and some on his neck. Blood soaks his hands, which are back to normal; evidence of the struggles of the humans as they tried to fight their way to a freedom that would never come.

He has to give them credit for their tenacity, but that is all that he is giving them credit for.

The breathing of the man on the right has slowed to the barest hint of a breath now, and it stutters and weakens even further. Ren moves closer, his eyes narrowing slightly, and he can taste the FEAR on his tongue, the scent of rainwater and of grass and the human world, and suddenly he feels sick, filled with a thick nausea that rises in his throat, threatening to make him ill, but he forces the feelings back, swallows hard, and continues with his work.


"What do you mean, 'what do we think of you?' What sort of question is that?"

"I just - "

"Renaissance, what do you expect to hear from us? You are a member of this family. You will do what is asked of you, and you will do it properly."

"...is that it?"

"Is what it?"

"...is that all you think when you think of me?"

"What else is there to think of?"


The humans are dying. He can hear it in the rattle of breath of the one on the right, hear the last few inhales as he desperately attempts to hold on, struggling in the last crucial seconds between life and death. But then his body gives a shudder and a shake and he is gone, his head tilting to the side, eyes wide open but not seeing anything.

The other man is on the verge as well, but his eyes are focused on Ren, and not at the sky like the other one, as though he is hoping for some sort of mercy from him, for some sort of sign that he is not about to die.

Ren does not make a move, but he looks away, and his teeth are gritted together so tightly that he can feel them grinding, and it hurts, and his head hurts and his chest and everything feels confusing and messy and angry and even as the man gives his last breath Ren is feeling the nausea rising again, heavy in his throat, thick in his heart.

He asks himself again question of what it is that he wants, what his reason is for coming here, for doing this, but he gets no profound answer, no sparkling wisdom or sudden epiphany.

All there is is a ringing silence and the sound of rainfall.



(( 3pts ))