grimgame

[grimgame]

AAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAaaaaAAaaAaaaaaa?!??!?!?!!??!?!.!

[grimgame]

Memoirs of a Broken Bastion

Sam finds himself unable to face the monster he has created.

Song - The Thief and The Moon - Shawn James

Said the Thief to the Moon

"I'll extinguish your light soon

I'll put an end to all the light that you shed

On this world in its darkened state"

His tired eyes barely open, staring down at the cracked floor. Blackened waves that reeked of death still crashed against these ruined walls as if there was a storm on the ashen horizon. Yet still, the man did not budge from this ruined bastion. Once... Once in a time now lost to him, these ruined walls stood tall and pristine, a symbol of power and captivity. Now, it was still a cage. Make no doubt of that. But the captor had long since become its captive.

Radiation clawed into his skin beneath his armor, the once shining metal now dull and cracking. His crumbling leather glove creaked pitifully as his grip tightened on his trident, the blades dull and no longer as lethal as they used to be. He would not budge from this place. He would not flee to the underdark like the other denizens of this once proud place. He thought himself protecting them, but what is there truly to protect in this now desolate world? Humanity had long since died alongside life ever since that accursed star fell upon the land and brought nothing but ruin in its wake. The sun no longer shined, choked out by the ash that clung to the sky. It had been years, and nothing had recovered. Perhaps it was meant to be. But still, he did not move.

Said the Moon to the Thief

"You know not of what you seek

You'll doom the world to wander the night

With no light to guide the paths that men seek"

"Oh, but all the wealth in the world will be mine

Without a means of defense for all those blind

My very existence is a race to attain wealth

For the thief's only loyalty's in life is to the devil and himself"

As he sat in his self enforced solitude, he swore he felt familiar eyes upon him. A violent green gaze burning holes into his back, the face of who they belonged to nothing but a fading, blurry memory. He did not turn to meet that demonic gaze, knowing it was all just a trick of his mind. How far gone was he really now that he hallucinating a dead man for company? He knew that man was dead. Nothing would survive that crushing wave of desolation. He himself barely did, his fortress left as a rotting carcass of rubble and ash. The gaze didn't falter. He didn't turn to meet the monster still, remaining stalwart in his isolation even in that thing's presence. Was it that he didn't want to admit he was there after seeing those charred bones? Or did he just not want to gaze upon more of his failures?

"The earth will rise up and devour all that you are

The skies call forth thunderous storms from afar

When you're dead there will be no grave to remember your name

For your greed brings your end and there's no one but yourself to blame"

[grimgame]

Home.

The way his boots, the metal heels scraping against filthy cobblestone streets, hit the ground with each step he took sounded like gunshots to his weary mind. His breaths left him in short, wheezing gasps, rasping against his dry throat and threatening to choke him with his own desperation to live. His steps were uneven and unstable as he nearly toppled over with each one. Blood flowed freely from the gaping maw of a wound that once held an arm, mocking him as he lost more and more each passing second. Idris could feel himself slipping, his skin clammy and pale from the disastrous state he now existed in.

'You have to be here, please- please tell me you're here,' He pleaded in his mind, as if he still had something to hope for even as he knew he was inches from death's door. He could feel her cold fingers grasping at his skin, pulling and tearing despite his own drive to just keep fucking moving. It had been so long since he'd last traversed the alleyways of this lost city, one he was indoctrinated into calling Blackburgh by that accursed "Golden City". He had been a child back then, pulled along by Thesri as they ran after their friends.

He felt a faint, weary smile form on his face at the memory. A choked laugh that ended in sputtering and coughing left his lungs, his legs nearly giving out as he leaned against the wall to his right. His lungs sucked in air with such violent vigor. He refused to let this happen, even as his strength was failing. He slowly slid down the wall, his eyes unfocused and watery. He looked out to the street just a few steps away. He could just barely see the people of a city he once abandoned, his heart hammering against his ribcage as if threatening to rip through his chest. He wet his cracked and busted lips, remaining hand trembling as he tried to stand but to no avail. But he wasn't truly looking at the people just outside of the alleyway.

No, his bleary-eyed stare was zeroed in on that house. He would know it anywhere. He'd know it if he was blind. Thesri had to be there. He had to be, but if he wasn't.. well.. at least he got to see it one last time.

A wobbling grin slowly etched itself onto his face as he sat in that alley, fully aware that this was likely it for him unless there was just some random streak of luck that blessed him. What a ridiculous thought that was, though. He'd never been lucky in his life, not after he betrayed his only remaining friend and turned his back on him. A resigned sigh left him as he leaned his head back on the decaying brick wall behind him, his eyes slowly shutting.

"This is it, I suppose," He murmured to no one but himself, accepting the fact that this was the end of the line. Just as his senses were dulling, fading away into nothingness.. he swore he heard footsteps approaching him.

"Idris?"

------

Idris Madox - @grimgame

Thesri Elburn - @/pandorasprisonor

[grimgame]

Pandora has a visitor.

His stomach churned as he struggled to keep moving, his clothing in tatters and doing nothing to save him from the harsh wind of the Tundra. It was a white out, the blizzard howling around him. He couldn't even see his axe that he had to turn into a walking stick. Nearly stumbling over a stone hidden by the snow that kept piling up, he managed just barely to catch himself with a heavy breath, pausing as he tried to regain his strength. A shriek sounded out from behind him, piercing through the howling wind around him.

His entire body tensed. Already? But he shouldn't have recovered that fast. Mordred didn't waste any time, trying to shuffle forward faster even with the snow hindering his movements. The shriek sounded again, but it was further away. It seems even his hunter could not see within the squall. He felt something in him bubble and claw at his throat, but he forced it down, even if some managed to slip into his mouth and trickle down his chin. He knew it wasn't blood, instead something much more vile that got him into this situation to begin with. He spat it out of his mouth and kept moving, the disgusting, almost salty, taste lingering.

He didn't know how long he'd been moving now. The shrieks were gone, swallowed a long time ago by the wind, but Mordred's own strength had begun failing him. Without ample protection from the wind and snow, the cold was beginning to kill him. His axe slipped out of his hand, his fingers no longer able to hold on. He breathed heavily, his legs trembling as they finally gave out. Mordred tried to move, but the snow enveloped him and held him in place relentlessly. Eventually, he resigned, closing his eyes as he gave up. He let the cold take him as his breathing slowly stilled...

----

Yet, suddenly, everything was so warm. He couldn't feel it, his unconscious body tumbling down through the air before slamming into some sort of floor with an audible, wet SPLAT! thanks to his soaking clothes. The impact knocked his mask loose, the wooden creation tumbling across the floor away from him as his axe clattered down nearby. He managed a moment of consciousness, the floor foreign and unfamiliar to the house he was used to being in with the wolves.

Was that... obsidian? Just as he heard footsteps, his vision blacked out, and he slipped back into unconsciousness once again.

[grimgame]

Mordred

Mordred was a young teenager that Tech's wolf pack found and refused to leave behind. He began living with the wolves, carving that mask himself to cope with the fact that he's human while his family are all wolves. He has very little human companionship and does not seem to seek it out, despite the fact that Philza and Techno live so close by.

The wolves found him dying in the snow, red vines wrapped around his arms. At the time of his discovery, the vines had an unknown origin, though it was later found that they, in fact, came from the Egg itself. There was no indication of how he got these vines or where he came from, and he seems to have no recollection of such events either; it soon became obvious he only knew his name when Philza attempted to figure out what happened to him.

He has a strange sort of connection with BBH, though he clearly wants nothing to do with him. BBH is constantly pursuing him like a predator hunts prey. Mordred even goes as far as to nearly kill him just to get away. However, the Egg refuses to let its "precious" host die, and Mordred's attempts simply just slow BBH down.

Ŵ̵͚̣͎̳͇͔̮͖͙̽̎̓̃̂́̏̓͑̈́̕͜ͅͅh̶̡̛̖͉̬͍͕̩̓̌̄̂̏̊́̈̀̂̂͌̿̚y̷̨͔͙͓͙̗̩̥͔̩̺͐̐̆̏̓̈́͗̌̀͒͐̃̐͠ͅ ̶̢̨͓̤͉̲̦̱̘̈́̋d̴̨͉͉̟̬̠͙͕͙̝̾͛̆̈́ȍ̵̮͍̠̹̲̓̚ë̶̡̛̖͔̣̘̩͉́̽̀̑̊̅̈̅͜͜͝s̵̛̙̩̳̽̌̿̐͛̊̾ ̴͖̪͉̠̩̞̋͛͐̒̀̑̉̃̓h̴̢̨͎͕̩͚̾̍́̌͐̀͊͛͂̋͗̏ḛ̷̳͓̪̉̂͐͛ ̸̤̈́î̴͉̟͔̩̘͖̗͓̪̱̯̈́̌͊̅̕͠ͅn̸̼̳̤̄̽̒̽͗̈́͛͐̚͝͠s̵̹̼̯̭͇͌̏́͑̈́̏͜ḯ̶̘̾̋͘ş̷̨̛̫̝̗̪͈̘̱̲̗̥̤̣̈́́͛̔̇͐͒̈͊̍͝͝t̵̳̩̥̬͓̟̫̬͓͉̣̮̝̘̒̆́̅̾̊̾͆̍͊̀ͅ ̸̟̣̤̰̜̜͓́̀͆̓̅͌̓̈́́o̵̳̝̓͌̓̔͋̑̂̄̚̕n̴̻͔͚̤̞͍͕̬̏̇̿́̊̉͊̈̃̏́͘͘͝͝ ̵̡̭̦̦̬͕̹̜̒͒̄͊̓̒̒̿̈̕͝é̶̳̞̈͆̋̀̃̊̄͂̄̔̏̚͠s̸̨͓̰͓͙̥̗͎͉̳͍̓͊͊̃̕ͅc̴̣͍̔͆͐̽̑͘ẵ̷̢͉̬̅́̏̽̎̑̑̉̉̓̎͛͝p̵̛͈̥̪̓̐́̌̃i̷͚̙͉̜̬̓͐͊̈̂̈̓̌̈́̑͘͠n̸̲̳͕̻̹̰̯̓̐͋̍̄̇̑͌̀̈́̽̃͝g̸̨̛͓̙̝̭̠̖̮̳̻̥͇͉͉͐͊̓̅͆̄̈́͝͠ ̶̨̪͖͖͓̹̭̲̅m̴̨̡͓̅̈́̃̊̈̈̏̚̚͝͝y̵̧̗͉̩̖͔̠͎̖̠̠̱͋̈́̆͜ ̵̨̧̛̘̲͉̥̳̫͗̈́̒͒̊̅̕͠l̶̓̑̈́��̧̘̞́̈́̄̀͆̔͆o̵̧̢̩̲͈̞̱̲̰̜̥̓̈́̀͑̉̓͑̆̐̊̈́v̶̡̦̞͎̤͚̟̭͉͍͚̫̥͈͗͗ë̶̛̺̝̣̭̤̦̜̠́͂̓?̴̢̛̫̯͇͙͉̱̤̲̪̻̖͛͆̋͒͊̃̀͑̉̃͝ͅ

[grimgame]

Local child raised by massive wolf pack in the Tundra fist fights a huge demon possessed by some weird fucking egg thing more at 7

I'm gonna eat a fence. My brain is so full of my stupid little fan child oc and my BBH interp

[grimgame]

I'm gonna eat a fence. My brain is so full of my stupid little fan child oc and my BBH interp

[grimgame]

I was bored

Decided out of the blue one day that I was making my own c!BBH design

I'm a fan of body horror, I wanted to make him get taken over by his God slowly, and so here we are

[grimgame]

You may be behind, but at least you're still making progress!! Look at you go!! I'm proud of you, kiddo!!

Societal pressure!!!! (YOU'RE DOING GREAT KIDDO!!! 💙)

!!!! I GOT STUFF DONE (im so far behind dear god)

[grimgame]

Idris stared out into the blank nothingness of the night sky that surrounded his world on the other side of a broken window. Tired eyes that held such a light green hue watched the swirling clouds beyond the cracked glass, wind passing through the holes and ruffling the curly hair that grew from his scalp.

His jaw tensed as the door to his room was knocked upon and subsequently opened, though he didn't turn to see who entered. He'd know that man from his footsteps alone. The one person who he'd lay down his life for in this dog eat dog world of theirs. His lungs stuttered with a trembling breath as he felt Thesri's hand on his amputated arm, and only then did he tear his weary gaze from the infinite skies to look at the man next to him. His mouth opened, lips trembling with unsaid words, but nothing emerged. He knew there was nothing to be said. No amount of apologies would fix what he had done. Yet, despite this, Thesri still touched him in a way so gentle his mind nearly counted it as a threat.

Idris shook his hand off, the act instinctual, yet the touch persisted even after Thesri moved his hand away. The way it coiled into his skin, mapping into each and every muscle, ignited a warmth in his chest that the former mariner could hardly formulate a reason or explanation to. Idris looked down, green eyes burning holes into the sheets that covered his weak legs. He thought and thought, his throat clicking with a dry swallow as his remaining hand shook with anticipation of anger and pain that wouldn't come.

His breath caught in his throat, eyes closing as he finally caved into Thesri's presence. His body bent, spine contorting as he leaned against the man next to him. His shoulder that once held an arm pressed into his chest, his head resting upon Thesri's shoulder. His own heart threatened to beat out of his ribcage, his body ignited in fear of this vulnerability and closeness; but the breath that left his lungs was so freeing as he finally remembered to breathe. He didn't deserve this, his mind made that decision on its own. But the way Thesri's hand found its way into the curls of his hair, removing the knots that attempted to form with ease, reminded him that he was allowed to feel peace, even if for the first time.

His remaining hand reached up and held tight on Thesri's arm, fingers digging roughly into his bicep as a silent plead to never leave him. The kiss he felt to the crown of his head cemented itself as an answer to his desperation.

————

Character Creds:

Idris Maddox - @grimgame

Thesri Elburn - @pandorasprisoner