Difference between revisions of "Log:The Borrower"

26 August, 2018

Olivia awakens in the realm of the borrower. Part of Olivia's Crucible

The Borrower's Realm

After that fox lady took her Olivia was banished to the world of dreams once more. As she awakens it's difficult to tell if she actually has awoken. The sky is green, and the ground beneath her feet soaked in an endless cascade of crimson ichor. To her back she finds the sheer face of a mountain going up and well above the emerald clouds in the sky. The air around her is painful to breathe, and with each breath she feels a burning in her chest. In front of her a man. No. A woman. A child. Someone's grandmother. It's difficult to tell, and every breath and blink makes it hard to tell. "I was told you had the best voice. Prove it." Each word comes in differing pitches, tones, and accents - and they all seem to speak at once.

Olivia opens her eyes slowly, looking up towards the sky. That IS the sky, right? She squints upwards, looking confused for a moment before slowly pushing herself upright. Olivia coughs a bit at the burn in her chest, rubbing at her head and looking around. "Where am I?" she mutters, mostly for herself before her gaze is drawn over to the person in front of her. "What? I'm not here to play whatever sick twisted game is going on here. And how am I supposed to even carry on a proper conversation when breathing hurts?"

"That part is easy," it says without blinking. The rise and fall of its chest betrays its ability to live in this hellscape without issue. "The first is that you pledge yourself to me. The second is that you will sing, or you shall suffer. This is your one and only choice in this matter. I am The Borrower. You will do as you have been commanded. Now. Sing."

Olivia scoffs a bit at the suggestion of pledging, the sound soon followed by a cough. "Why would I do that? I know what that means," she says, shaking her head. "Just send me home, and it's a non-issue. The whole idea of 'borrowing'..." Yes, she uses air-quotes. "...I think is lost on you. Do you intend to return me from whence I came?"

The Gentry shakes her head, taking a step forward. He reaches for her throat, effortless lifting her well off her feet. "I do not return what is mine. You ARE mine. Your voice is mine. Your sound is mine." Their other hand lifts, and is pressed against her mouth. In the next instant it adds, "You wish to defy and deny me." He then forcefully opens her mouth, and in one swift motion removes her tongue to leave her there.

Olivia chokes as she's grabbed, eyes going a bit wide. She was having trouble breathing before. This isn't helping. She kicks and flails a bit, twisting in a futile attempt to free herself. The hand that presses against her mouth causes her to still for a brief moment, watching the Gentry with fear for the first time. Now? Now she's afraid. But it's a bit too late as she feels the searing pain in her mouth as her tongue is ripped free. She screams in agony, collapsing to the ground and bringing her hands to her lips, spitting out some blood through her fingers.

His hand reaches into nowhere, gone from sight and mind. When it returns its with a tongue thats a bit longer and pnik in shade. She bends down, grabbing Olivia by the throat again, and shoves the newer tongue into the woman's mouth. The end result comes with Olivia's voice changed. Smoky, raspy, and something older. Not completely her own. There is also a hint fo some accent there, one foreign to the woman. "What do you have to say?"

Olivia can't imagine what's about to come next as she's grabbed up again, gasping as she's grabbed by the throat again, her head snapping up. There's a muffled sound of protest as the strange appendage is shoved into her mouth and she splutters a little bit, spitting what remains of the blood out of her mouth and off to one side. "I'm sorry," she wheezes, breathing heavily.

He reaches into her mouth again, ripping that tongue free. No. No that just won't do. She reaches into aether again, bringing back something green and longer than the last. Much longer. Its shoved into Olivia's mouth again as he stares into the woman's eyes. "It does not matter if you pledge to me or not. You will wither. You will die. You will be forgotten."

Olivia blinks as the Gentry decides to remove this tongue as well, the fresh pain drawing another scream from her lips. She looks back at it as the next tongue is shoved into her mouth, the length nowhere near able to actually fit as it lolls past her lips. Olivia shakes her head a bit, sniffling as she tries to fight back the most of the tears. "No..."

She brings Olivia to his face, staring into her eyes. Searching, studying the woman's gaze for far too long. There's little space between them, and The Borrower rips out the woman's tongue again to return her first. "Then survive or perish. That is your only choice. Nothing you want matters. You do not matter beyond what I say does." Then she brings Olivia less than inch away from his face. "Sing."

Olivia grunts quietly as she's drawn close, breathing heavily. The air is heavy, and everything hurts. She shrieks again as the tongue is once more ripped from her mouth. It's not a sensation one just gets used to. The woman coughs and splutters as she gets her own tongue returned to her, gulping in some air. As best she can anyway. And then, she does sing. It's not as robust or cheerful as she usually selects, instead singing a song of heartbreak. It's more appropriate.

He chuckles. A soft, low thing that may as well be a whisper. "Good. You know when to listen." She drops Olivia, staring down at the woman with as much empathy as can be expected from so alien a being. "My amusement is no more." And with that Olivia finds her voice gone again. "You are too boring. Mediocre. From what I last recall..." Her voice trails off until those last few notes sound exactly as Olivia's voice. "Now where were we. Right. Yes. As you are, nothing."

The fire in Olivia's soul burns away. An all too familiar feeling as her connection to the flame dwindles away in darkness. Unlike the nightmares in the hospital this proves to be rather short in comparison. Painfully so. The Borrower's realm wasn't the brightest from what she saw, but it gets brighter real quick. Pain courses all over. Agony that ripples over every inch of skin, and down to her very core.

Olivia coughs as she hits the ground, pushing herself back to a sitting position. One hand rises to her throat as she loses her voice again, but at least she still has her tongue. That's... something. She rubs at her throat slowly, looking up at the Gentry, somewhere between angry and terrified.

And when she begins to think it's over, the all-encompassing, searing pain rips through her body. Olivia would scream, but her voice is gone. Instead, her face simply contorts in agony as she collapses back against the ground, the fire pulled from the very core of her soul. She writhes in pain, tears now flowing freely.

Her tears evaporate into nothingness. Her skin cracks and tears, pain everlasting as her flesh cooks. Eventually that feeling of fire is all around her and inside her. The fire in her was once a thought. A command that required word and will. Now it is her, and the pain becomes nothing. Natural. Normal. Nothing and everything. The Borrower watches for a few seconds longer, and departs into nothingness, leaving Olivia there by her lonesome.

Olivia gasps as the pain shifts and changes, fading from agony down to... nothing. But it isn't nothing. It isn't gone. She pants softly, the remaining pain now mostly residual memories, still fresh in her mind. Olivia sits up slowly, carefully, looking around to make sure The Borrower is actually gone before making any attempts to rise, beginning to do a slow self-examination to see what remains. She's not dead. Not yet. Somehow.

Her skin is now as black as the night. A charred mess without a sight of pink anywhere. Ashes flake from cooked skin. Where skin splits and cracks fire ejects itself, and when done venting leves behind small clouds of smoke. She looks around her, finally realizing the boiling wasteland for what it is. Lava pits not too far in front of her, opposite the mountain at her back. Past that she can hear rumbling. Unclear if its a stampede or thunderstorm.

Olivia is both confused and concerned about the state of her flesh. This SHOULD be hurting, but it doesn't. Not really. She turns her hand over slowly, looking at her palm and then back again, running the fingers of her other hand up along her arm. At least she can breathe now. That's good, right? She purses her lips, looking up and around, listening to the sound. She has no idea what it is, but it probably isn't good. And so, she picks a direction AWAY from the mountain-probably-volcano, and starts to move.

The path forward is a dangerous one, but simple enough for her to follow. As she travels she sees the many of would be escapes and captives. Charred bones, carcasses, melted remains, some still burning - their death likely something recent. Eventually she trades one hell for another. Rocky lava pits soon give way to a forest as vast as she can, wider than it is tall. The tress remove any notion of light save the tiny hints of light that break through th canopy. At the edges of this emerald fortress of bark she can find a corpse, the only thing around that could serve for anything c lose to a meal as fatigue beings to settle in hard and heavy.

Olivia picks her way through, skip-hopping from one step to the next, being careful not to collapse and get herself killed. The charred corpses nearby are studied briefly, absently noted before she moves on. They may not have survived, but she did. She will. She pauses at the edge of the forest, looking along the length of it as the thick canopy blocks out the light. This isn't better. Huffing quietly, she casts a sideways look towards the corpse at the edge of the treeline, shaking her head a bit. She isn't quite THAT desperate. Not yet.