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Clair closed the computer and flicked off her lamp. The clock read 20 minutes until 11:00 PM. Sighing, she pulled the powder-blue coverlit up to her shoulders and focused on taking deep breaths. It had been a tough week. A tough month, actually. Clair had been relying on fast-paced and action-packed Marvel cartoons just to giver her something to look forward to at the end of each long day. Moonlight penetrated her filmy blue curtains. Somehow, it seemed brighter than usual. Slowly, Clair sank into sleep. Tired and worn, she wasn't sure if she could bear another night of awful nightmares, each one replaying another real-life tragedy. One tragedy in particular that she—no, she wouldn't think about that now. Clair's eyes closed. She pushed her pillow up against the wall as she relaxed into the mattress and fell asleep. On the other side of Clair's pine-nut brown wall, Clair's sister Samantha tossed and turned. Samantha could pretend to be strong during the day. She could put up a false wall of confidence while the sun was in the sky. But at night, she was vulnerable and weak. The nightmare always started out the same way. The snow shone brightly under a crystalized sky and everything seemed frozen and beautiful and wonderous. There was her dad, grinning, snow ball in hand, his silly black cap with the yarn pom-pom on top sticking out from behind the mounds of snow he and Clair had just built. Samantha sat on the front step, watching. Clair hefted a snowball. Dad ran out into the road, waving and yelling to his daughters. He loved the snow. Here the dream always changed. Sometimes it was the white truck slipping on the patch of ice; other times it was something more surreal, like a giant wherewolf. But it always ended the same way. No. Although she was asleep, Samantha could feel the tears dripping from her eyes and soaking her long lashes. No. No. Nooooo!
Samantha sat up, breathing heavily. She frantically wiped at her wet face with her long pajama sleeve. Reaching for her pillow to turn it around to the dry side, Samantha made several heart-stopping discoveries. The first being that her pillow was not there. Then she felt cold. it was much colder than the cold at night before the heat kicks in. No, this type of cold was the same snow-day cold she had felt on that day with Dad and Clair. Frantically, Samantha waved her hands around. Snow. She was surrounded by thick drifts of the cold, powdery stuff. A chill worked its way through to her heart. Her nightmares were coming to life. The next thing Samantha noticed was that there was moonlight. Bright, unnatural moonlight that dimly illuminated the world of shadows and snow around her. Samantha began to hyperventilate. This was no dream. This was real. Suddenly, she heard a shuffling sound behind her. Panicked, she leaped to her feet and whirled around.
"Sam?"
"Clair!" Samantha exclaimed. She had only once been so glad to see her little sister's brown eyes and dark curly hair. The two sisters were only 11 months apart and looked almost exactly alike, except that Samantha was taller.
"Where are we? How did we get here?" Samantha questioned, looking around at the barren, snow-covered land.
"I have no idea, but it sure is amazing," replied Clair, her eyes wide with wonder. That's Clair, Samantha thought, prepared to adapt and have adventure. Too many Fantastic Four episodes. Meanwhile, Clair was thinking; that's Sam; perfect and composed. I'll never be like her. Neither sister truly new the "girl behind the mask," and hadn't since they were very young, but they were about to find out on an adventure that would bring them back together.
~
Welcome to the land of Decepmyth; a land of illusions and surreality. This strange world is full of history and adventure, and words. For, of course, we few inhabitants of Decepmyth whisper the words of insperation into the ears of the only listeners: writers. Long ago, an adventure took place here that changed many people's lives forever. But sadly, there is only one account of this awe-inspiring tale, and the ending half of it has been lost forever. However, the beginning was kept safe over the years: http://www.cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox/inkwell/node/173234. Only a hand-full of people can ever complete the story of Decepmyth and the evil heir of Queen Magenta. That includes Samantha and Clair, and you. Yes, you have been chosen. You must find the end of this story and even rewrite history if necessary, and in the end, you must bring Decepmyth out of the dark and gloomy age it has entered into. The full details of your adventures will be made known to you, one at a time...
submitted by The Illusionist , Decepmyth
(December 9, 2016 - 9:32 pm)
(December 9, 2016 - 9:32 pm)
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(April 23, 2017 - 11:14 am)
(April 26, 2017 - 7:00 pm)
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(May 9, 2017 - 2:25 pm)
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(May 9, 2017 - 2:26 pm)
Stave 8
Clair was worried.
"Umm...you did hear that noise, right?" She was mostly addressing John F.Q., but she wasn't sure he would answer, so she just threw the question out there.
Booksy opened her mouth to answer, but stopped as the noise came again. Clair focused on the sound. It was a dragging-shuffling sort of noise, seperate from the sounds of the trudging adventurers. Booksy Owly looked at Clair, her eyes wide with question. The snow-covered plains around them were completely bare.
"Must have been the wind," Rose bud said reassuringly. She turned away, kicking up powdery snow with every step. Danie started whistling. Clair focused on the pale sky, wavering between darkenss and light, and let her mind wander.
And then it came. Faster than anyone could blink or yell, an enormous brown shape leapt into the center of the small group with a heart-freezing growl. Clair moved backwards impulsively, almost falling over. Booksy Owly turned away, her hands automatically rising to cover her face. Clair saw flashes of a rock-like body, which shouldn't have been able to move with the liveliness of the puma.
But it did move. Before Clair had time to react, the beast was lunging at her, snow flying out from behind its four powerful legs.
She didn't register what was happening until the beast's claws were at her throat.
~
Samantha's instincts were screaming at her to turn and run. There was snow in her face, and although it wasn't quite cold enough, having anything fly at your face is rather unpleasant. She blinked away the powdery stuff from her eyelashes. In between blinks, the snow-world flickered crazily as it swung like a pendulum between very real chaos and a surreal, dreamlike feeling.
There was the beast. Dark all over, like a forest at night. Four-legged, long, and powerful. And there was Clair, stumbling away from the shocked group. In a matter of seconds, the scene changed. The beast jumped at her sister. In that fragment of a second, Samantha knew that she would be forced to stand by yet again while someone she dearly loved was killed. Hopelessness took hold of her body, but there was no time for the emotion to fully register.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Samantha didn't even have time to think the words to herself, but somehow a deep, hidden part of her understood what she wanted.
She wanted time to stop completely. She wanted it to with every part of her body.
And it did.
(May 9, 2017 - 8:40 pm)
Wooo! interesting!
(May 10, 2017 - 5:51 pm)
Nice!
(May 11, 2017 - 7:06 am)
(May 11, 2017 - 8:28 am)
Stave 9
John wasn't frozen. He just saw the time wave explode from Samantha and stood very still, watching to see what she would do next.
What Samantha Bagely did was sit down, hard. She felt as if someone had kicked her in the ribs. No, she felt like someone with extra-pointy cleats on had just kicked her in the ribs. She gasped as the pain expanded. It felt sharp and real, contrasting the distant, dreamy snowland. Horrible images filled her mind. Was she dying? Had the sudden burst of abnormality snapped something inside of her? Samantha glanced frantically up at her statue-like comrades. Of course, they didn't move (hence the words 'statue-like'). Her sister stood mid-turn, braced with a look of slowly-dawning terror on her face. The beast that had attacked them mere seconds ago was frozen in the air. That shouldn't be possible.
And yet there it was.
Samantha doubled over as the sharp, spreading pain increased. She had only felt so helpless once in her life. Ironically, that was one of the few times that she had admitted she needed help, and reached out to her family and friends. Loosing her father had been a long list of helplessness, but talking had helped. Admiting defeat had helped. Samantha's pride splintered.
"Clair? Can you hear me? Anyone?" No one moved.
Samantha let out a breathless sob. And then someone moved. John F.Q. shook himself from his frozen position.
"You control time waves?" He asked, as if it were a perfectly normal question.
"I don't know," Samantha answered honestly. Her voice was almost a whisper. Every time she tried to breathe, her chest constricted and more lines of pain were etched deep, deep into her body.
"I was waiting for you to accept the magic," John explained, walking over, "you have to wait it out, okay? When someone first experiances magic, it has to be excepted." He didn't want to explain more than he had to. John liked riddles. They were compforting works of art he could always rely upon.
He wanted to help Samantha. To tell her the pain was natural. To tell her she wasn't alone in the world. The cold Decepmythian part of him rebelled, wanting to fade into the shadows; offer no assistance, but his human heart felt nothing but warmnth. Snow and fire. Dark and light. Cold and warm. John lived with two raging powers.
~
(May 17, 2017 - 9:07 pm)
(May 18, 2017 - 7:02 pm)
Asking someone if they can control time waves, is in my opinion a normal question,that is of course if you live Decepmyth. The way you described magic in this instalment is really interesting,and of course I always find it intresting when my backstory is alluded to. Can't wait to read more!
(May 20, 2017 - 5:15 pm)
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