Roleplay/Interaction blog.
"Hello. I am Empty. Can I assist you in any way?"
The figure that loomed over the decaying log set before it with its gaping ends crying out in a soundless scream, or a gasp of final air before it was to wither and die. The figure that stood over the log found itself watching you, completely void of all emotions or feelings. As if it had forgotten or if it were abused in its younger years. But alas, it watches you and speaks like a normal being, but its voice is of monotone, void of any emotion. Its body was slightly smaller then normal, but it appeared massive the way it stood above the broken log. Its eyes were closed, always closed as if its ability to see had gone. But somehow he knew you were coming to see him, or your curiosity had the best of you. His fur was an off white to a very light yellow, it was short in places and long in others. He didn't seem like a potential threat at the moment, and he was far too tranquil to induce any actions that would be life threatening.
(Written or Drawn, I accept both. I am more of a writer then a drawer, so I will respond via text.)
Oiseau, with her glassy
She could borrow fleeting moments of feeling and memory from the world around her. Her face was a mask, was a mirror, reflecting facets of the beings she encountered with bitter jealousy. What was theirs was hers -- but not solely hers, not only hers, in its entirety.
She was everything, and therefore, nothing. Nothing at all, at heart.
And in approaching a creature of pure emptiness, a void, there was nothing fit to reflect -- no light to mask the darkness, the ambiguity of her soul. And her glassy eyes grew cold and dark, outwardly reflecting the darkness within. Her voice took on a dreamy tone, for she was a child full of wonder. A dying child full of imagination, clinging to a dying world.
"What is it like, to live without feeling?
Devoid of emotion; does life lose its meaning?"
Poetic nonsense escaped from her lips, musings directed towards the entity called Empty. -- but perhaps, also towards herself. In the moment, as the mirror, towards them both.
((Empty is such an interesting character <3 I hope it's okay to jump in and interact without having my bio page up yet))
((Thank you and yes, it is.
The voice took the tranquil character a moment to register every word, every syllable that this deer before it was speaking. With a somber nod and a tilt of its tree adorned head, no mouth present, it spoke. "Feeling? Emotion? No feeling, no emotions, yes. It is nothing, darkness. The emptiness devours everything." The creature responded in a monotone voice, unable to change voice pitches or loudness. It looked at her, eyes forever closed but adorned with long lashes. It was a beauty to behold, but could turn deadly. But being a tranquil, there was no reason for it to attack anything or anyone.
"I am merely non-existent. A fragment of one's imagination. I am simply here because this shell of a body provides me with a solid form. If there was no body, I wouldn't be standing here." It continued, moving along the subjects in a slow pace. It often got carried away with it's ideas and opinions on things when given the chance to have another listen. It looked to the ground then back a the one before it. It tilted its head.
"What matter of creature are you? You are empty, I can see it, nothing inside. Are you me?"
"Are you me?" Oiseau echoed
"Or am I you?
Yes. No. I could be.
I am everyone, and no one.
Nothing, in the guise of everything.
But the nothingness is full of possibilities.
I could be an architect. I could be anything.
Anything at all."
She paused a moment, musing. Roundabout words full of riddle and rhyme, with answers in the form of truths and lies. "I am .. a monster, within the darkness, hiding behind a light which I can never have nor know nor understand."
She directed her glassy stare at Empty, once more. "But were we born this way or rendered thus by an empty world? Mere reflections of a surrounding indifference?" She tapped her hoof against the ground, thoughtfully.
"What makes you, what made you, what you are?"
The creature spoke in such an
"I am what I am, and what I am not. I am the darkness, but not the light. I am the emptiness, but not the whole. I am broken, but not complete. I was born from false prophecies, broken dreams, and silence. We were born this way, yes. There is no other way to explain how we came into mere existence. A monster is a being who once was beautiful but was wronged." The words continued to flow, but the final word was said and it grew silent, its closed lids lifting slightly to show a glimpse of eyes that were taken over by cataracts but the ring of gold still shined brighter. Indeed, Empty was blind, but was near sighted, which he could see the colors clearly and without fail.
"I was created by the hands of God. I was sent upon this land with everything at my hands. But the way I am now was due to carelessness and my inability to function correctly at the right time and I lost my beads. My pieces of who I am. Four hundred and seventy-one pieces I need found." He uttered before falling into silence once more. He wasn't one who had a chance to speak his mind.
(sorry to take so long) "But
"But what is a mirror, but an image? An image of its surroundings. An image of what it's not. Defined by reflections, but not by itself.
The darkness makes it what it is.
And the light gives it purpose.
The mirror is but a tool.
And I am but a mirror."
She smiled -- a smile which enveloped her face in innocence, sweet as the spring flowers. A smile, a sense of mirth, she could never really feel. Just another thing she'd borrowed.
Or stolen, perchance.
"I am beautiful, for the world makes me so. And-
I am marred, by its corruption.
I am a reflection of the world as it is -- and as it isn't."
Her distant eyes, full of the darkness of her soul, stared onwards like the void into the two-toned blind eyes, as they closed. Oh how odd, how interesting. The glimmer took her fancy and so she took it for her own -- she did admire things of beauty, so. Her black eyes fleetingly took on a glaze of milky white ensnared in gold. Her head flitted from side to side, considering a passing whim which she allowed to fade.
Golden eyes now turned to the empty soul.
"Oh, poor soul." That motherly tone, like a saint, from a monster. The void-like creature before her was devoid of personality. She could mimic his appearance, his eccentricities, but was at a loss as to how to act. What to say. Her personality constantly shifted, in purpose, in tone. Going through her collection of stolen fragments of souls. How should she act. What should she be. It seemed that she was given a choice, now, but couldn't decide. So she'd just be them all.
"How did you lose, your everything?" She paused, as though awaiting an answer, but decided it didn't matter and continued on.
"Four hundred and seventy-one." Her tone was grating, like rusted knives, with the underlying cruelty of a cackle. "Poor fool."
Another pause, another shift -- a confusing compilation of warring personalities. "Four hundred and seventy-one," she repeated, thoughtfully. "Is there some significance, in that number? In the weight of its cadence?" Her eyes mocked the blind, staring back towards Empty in reflected light.
"Four hundred and seventy-one," like a child, an innocent face. "Let me help."
An interesting sentiment. But she hid her true intentions behind a mask, several masks, in shifting forms. It wasn't really clear what she intended, at heart. Not to herself. Not to anyone.
And she fell back into the silence, as the shadows shifted around her in a swirl of darkness.