When he walks he hears the sounds of chains rattling, scraping against the pavement, but when he looks down he sees nothing.
Wen Ning feels weak, disoriented, and there's a slow stream of tears running steadily down his cheeks. He didn't think he was physically capable of crying anymore (he'd certainly tried) but now that he is he can't stop. They keep coming. He wipes at them with the back of one hand but it hardly helps.
"A-Yuan?" He calls the name out into the empty streets, not for the first time since he'd found himself there, not expecting to hear anyone call back. He keeps the hand not trying to stem his tears clasped to his robes near his heart. It's pounding too heavily, too loudly. Anyone nearby has to be able to hear it, he imagines.
The cobblestones under his feet become slick, wet with what he assumes must be water from a recent rain shower. But then he feels something drip onto his shoe, and turning his eyes downward reveals that both of his hands and forearms are coated in blood. It pools underneath scattered bodies that he now realizes are all around him. He freezes, breaths shaky, and a familiar voice speaks up behind him.
What did you do?
The voice is full of a venom he's only once heard directed at him, and he doesn't want to turn around. He squeezes his eyes shut instead. "I don't... I didn't... I don't remember..."
WHAT DID YOU DO?? The voice screams at him, and he's hit from behind with enough force to knock him to the ground. He throws his bloody arms over his head, still refusing to look at the speaker.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
ii. face your fears
Wen Ning stands alone, exhausted, staring at the small black orb in front of him. He finally reaches out - slowly, cautiously, to grasp the object and clasp it in his hands as if it's immensely precious, despite the nightmare it contains.
He's spent a while having to bear resentful energy, not letting it consume him, but the terrors here are still difficult to deal with. They know right where to hurt him.
The young man seems a bit wary, skittish, and the eyes that skim over the recently cleared area are completely black in color. The magic he's used still exists in a dark mist around the base of his robes that's only now dissipating.
He holds the orb close to his chest and finally limps away from the scene.
iii. wildcard
(Anything else! If necessary I can be contacted at laverinth or PMed on this journal.)
Wen Ning | The Untamed | witch
When he walks he hears the sounds of chains rattling, scraping against the pavement, but when he looks down he sees nothing.
Wen Ning feels weak, disoriented, and there's a slow stream of tears running steadily down his cheeks. He didn't think he was physically capable of crying anymore (he'd certainly tried) but now that he is he can't stop. They keep coming. He wipes at them with the back of one hand but it hardly helps.
"A-Yuan?" He calls the name out into the empty streets, not for the first time since he'd found himself there, not expecting to hear anyone call back. He keeps the hand not trying to stem his tears clasped to his robes near his heart. It's pounding too heavily, too loudly. Anyone nearby has to be able to hear it, he imagines.
The cobblestones under his feet become slick, wet with what he assumes must be water from a recent rain shower. But then he feels something drip onto his shoe, and turning his eyes downward reveals that both of his hands and forearms are coated in blood. It pools underneath scattered bodies that he now realizes are all around him. He freezes, breaths shaky, and a familiar voice speaks up behind him.
What did you do?
The voice is full of a venom he's only once heard directed at him, and he doesn't want to turn around. He squeezes his eyes shut instead. "I don't... I didn't... I don't remember..."
WHAT DID YOU DO?? The voice screams at him, and he's hit from behind with enough force to knock him to the ground. He throws his bloody arms over his head, still refusing to look at the speaker.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
ii. face your fears
Wen Ning stands alone, exhausted, staring at the small black orb in front of him. He finally reaches out - slowly, cautiously, to grasp the object and clasp it in his hands as if it's immensely precious, despite the nightmare it contains.
He's spent a while having to bear resentful energy, not letting it consume him, but the terrors here are still difficult to deal with. They know right where to hurt him.
The young man seems a bit wary, skittish, and the eyes that skim over the recently cleared area are completely black in color. The magic he's used still exists in a dark mist around the base of his robes that's only now dissipating.
He holds the orb close to his chest and finally limps away from the scene.
iii. wildcard
(Anything else! If necessary I can be contacted at