Void Memories I: I Dreamed of Burning Wings (Closed)

GEAR

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https://soundcloud.com/nightshadow1055%2Flone-survivor-home-m4a
S̸h̷e̷ ̵w̸a̴s̵ ̵f̶a̴l̷l̷i̸n̵g̸.̷
̸
̴F̶l̵a̸m̷e̴ ̸l̶i̷c̴k̴e̶d̷ ̵h̵e̵r̶.̵.̵.̸ ̷s̵k̸i̸n̸?̸ ̸N̸o̸,̷ ̷m̸o̸r̸e̸ ̷l̵i̶k̸e̷.̵.̷.̶ ̶
̷
̸H̷e̸r̵ ̷c̷a̴s̸i̶n̷g̸.̶
̷
̸T̶h̴e̵ ̶m̵e̸t̴a̵l̷ ̴s̷h̶e̵l̶l̸ ̷t̶h̴a̴t̶ ̵h̶a̵d̷ ̸b̴o̶u̵n̴d̵ ̸h̷e̶r̴,̵ ̷h̴e̵r̶ ̶s̴e̴c̸o̷n̸d̸ ̸b̴o̶d̸y̷,̶ ̷t̴h̶e̸ ̴o̵n̶e̶ ̵t̵h̵a̸t̴ ̸h̷a̷d̴ ̷b̴e̷e̴n̸ ̴b̵o̸t̶h̵ ̵a̸ ̵p̵r̶i̵s̷o̷n̴ ̷a̵n̵d̴ ̸w̴e̸a̶p̷o̶n̵ ̵-̴
̴
̷I̵t̶ ̵w̷a̸s̵ ̴r̸u̷i̸n̷e̵d̴.̴
̸
̴B̶u̵r̵n̶i̷n̷g̴.̷
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̶N̸o̸ ̵-̷ ̸S̷h̶e̴ ̶w̴a̶s̷ ̷b̶u̴r̴n̵i̸n̴g̷.̸
̸
̷S̴h̸e̵ ̴w̵a̸s̵ ̴d̷y̶i̷n̵g̸,̶ ̶p̶l̶u̷n̵g̷i̶n̸g̴ ̷t̷o̸ ̷h̷e̵r̴ ̴d̵e̵a̶t̷h̵ ̸i̴n̷ ̶t̴h̷i̵s̵ ̸k̸a̸l̴e̸i̴d̶o̵s̷c̴o̵p̴i̶c̴ ̶H̷e̴l̶l̷ ̸b̷e̵t̸w̸e̵e̷n̸ ̸w̴o̶r̵l̶d̴s̴.̴
̵
̷S̴t̷i̴l̸l̸,̵ ̶s̸h̸e̸ ̴f̸o̵u̸g̶h̵t̸.̶
̵
̴S̷h̴e̸ ̴r̶a̶g̸e̶d̷,̵ ̷r̸a̸g̸e̵d̸ ̶a̴g̸a̷i̴n̴s̸t̵ ̶t̵h̶e̴ ̵H̴e̶a̴v̵e̷n̵s̷,̴ ̸a̴g̴a̷i̷n̴s̵t̵ ̵f̵a̷t̶e̴,̴ ̵a̸g̴a̸i̷n̷s̵t̴ ̵e̷v̷e̷r̴y̸t̷h̷i̵n̷g̴.̶
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̴E̴v̸e̷r̸y̶ ̶s̸i̶n̶g̸l̶e̷ ̶s̶t̵e̸p̸ ̸o̶f̵ ̴t̶h̴e̵ ̴w̷a̸y̴,̶ ̸s̵h̶e̸ ̶f̶o̸u̴g̸h̵t̸.̸
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̵I̵t̵ ̶w̵a̵s̷ ̸a̵l̴l̴ ̸s̷h̵e̸ ̶c̵o̴u̶l̸d̵ ̴d̵o̴.̵
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̵I̸t̶ ̷w̷a̴s̵ ̶a̵l̷l̵ ̸s̶h̷e̵ ̶k̴n̷e̸w̸.̴
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̸T̶h̶r̷o̶u̶g̷h̶ ̴t̴h̷e̸ ̸f̸l̴a̸m̷e̶s̴,̵ ̵t̸h̵r̵o̷u̴g̵h̸ ̸h̴e̷r̸ ̸f̴a̶d̵i̷n̴g̶ ̵v̵i̴s̴i̴o̷n̸,̷ ̸s̷h̴e̸ ̶e̵x̷t̴e̷n̵d̶e̸d̴ ̷a̵ ̶h̸a̵n̸d̷,̵ ̵g̴r̴a̷s̵p̶i̸n̴g̴ ̵f̶o̷r̶ ̷t̸h̷e̸ ̷d̷i̶s̵t̸a̴n̷t̵ ̸l̸i̵g̴h̶t̸ ̶o̶f̷ ̴h̸e̵r̴ ̶d̵e̸s̸t̷i̸n̶a̴t̷i̷o̷n̷-̷
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̴B̵u̴t̸ ̶w̶h̶a̸t̸ ̶s̷t̴r̶e̸t̵c̶h̵e̸d̶ ̷o̷u̸t̵ ̴b̷e̴f̷o̴r̸e̵ ̸h̷e̵r̷.̷.̵.̵ ̵w̴a̷s̵ ̵a̸n̵y̵t̴h̴i̷n̶g̵ ̵b̵u̷t̸ ̸h̷u̵m̶a̸n̵.̴ ̸
̶
̴M̵a̷n̷g̸l̷e̵d̴,̶ ̴m̸e̶l̴t̴e̷d̸ ̵m̸e̸t̵a̸l̴ ̷a̸n̴d̸ ̷w̷i̶r̷e̷s̶,̶ ̴m̵i̶x̵e̷d̷ ̴w̵i̸t̸h̸ ̸w̸h̵a̴t̶ ̸s̵h̸e̷ ̴c̵o̶u̵l̶d̸ ̷o̵n̶l̴y̵ ̷d̸e̸s̶c̸r̸i̸b̸e̶ ̸a̸s̴ ̴m̴o̵l̷t̸e̸n̶,̶ ̶f̵a̴u̵x̴-̸f̶l̸e̸s̷h̸ ̷t̷h̸a̷t̷ ̶d̵r̴i̴p̵p̸e̷d̷ ̶l̸i̷k̷e̸ ̴c̸a̴n̴d̷l̸e̴ ̶w̴a̴x̴ ̶i̶n̸ ̴o̸i̸l̸y̸,̶ ̵b̷l̶o̴o̶d̷y̴ ̸r̷i̶v̷u̶l̸e̴t̴s̶.̷ ̴
̴
̴T̴h̴e̷ ̸a̴r̶m̴ ̸o̸f̸ ̷a̴ ̷m̷a̷c̷h̴i̶n̶e̴.̴
̸
̵T̶h̵e̸r̶e̸ ̷w̵a̴s̸ ̶a̶ ̵h̷o̴r̷r̸i̷b̴l̴e̷ ̶s̶c̷r̵e̷e̵c̵h̵ ̴a̷s̶ ̷s̴h̵e̵ ̶h̸i̴t̶ ̵t̵h̴e̸ ̶w̶a̷l̷l̸.̵
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̶ ̶S̴h̵e̶ ̵f̸e̶l̷t̷ ̵h̷e̷r̵ ̶b̸o̴d̸y̸ ̸b̶r̷e̵a̷k̶.̷,̷ ̶t̶h̸e̷ ̴f̵o̵r̶c̵e̸ ̷t̵e̴a̷r̵i̸n̵g̸ ̵u̷p̵ ̸t̷h̸r̴o̴u̵g̸h̶ ̴h̴e̷r̴ ̵r̷i̵b̶c̵a̵g̴e̶,̵ ̶p̷r̶y̴i̴n̷g̸ ̸h̷e̴r̸ ̶a̸p̶a̴r̶t̶.̴
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̶A̴n̶d̴ ̶t̴h̸e̵n̴.̸.̷.̴ ̶
̴
̷.̸.̷.̴
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̴.̶.̴.̵A̸n̴d̴ ̵t̴h̴e̷n̶.̷.̶.̴
̵
̴(̷.̷.̴.̴S̴a̵r̵a̷.̶.̴.̴)̸

***​
OE 102
1:55 AM
L4 Colony "Paradisio"


She opened her eyes.

eris.jpg

Seconds ticked by, courtesy of an antique grandfather clock housed in her living room. It was an executive suite by Colonial standards, the kind that only a corporate lapdog or ruthless profiteer could afford... and she was a little of both.

Eris Pseudea slowly rose, gathering the black, silken sheets about her person as she did. Some would have been rattled by such a dream, but she only stared ahead into the darkness, almost... accusingly, as though daring the cause to come forth. It was not that the vision lacked vigor... Only that it simply had repeated so often that it no longer engendered any measure of shock. Now, she was left with only a quiet sense of unease, curdling in the pit of her stomach.

Slowly, a pale foot extended itself from the covers to the carpet (also black) below. Letting her painted nails trace a line across the (paneled, imported marble - also black) wall, she traversed the darkness, until she came to the bathroom. Internal sensors flicked on, emitting a dim light that was gentle on her eyes, slowly rising to adjust with her own vision. Making her way across the polished floor, she snapped her fingers, illuminating a mirror set into the wall before her.

Gene therapy was a luxury only the upper class could afford, and she had embraced it with open arms, going from a fairly plain looking girl to... Well, this. Smooth, ivory skin free of blemish, sharp red eyes, short, carefully cultivated azure hair... not to mention enhanced musculature, a reinforced ribcage, and reflexes that could only be matched by the latest combat androids.

Who said money couldn't buy happiness?

Still...

In the mirror, she examined her hand. It looked - and felt - as real as it always had... but the memory of the dream burned bright, refusing to let her senses dispel its phantom. Her lips parted gently, and her fingertips traveled up her hip, across the strap of her onyx, feather-print bra, up her neckline, and to her cheek, gently turning her head back and forth. She felt her chest rise and fall with every breath, her every touch, felt the warm blood flowing through her veins.



What did it mean?

...

"Void memories, huh?" She said, quietly, placing her head against the glass... and closed her eyes, giving a weak sigh.
 
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