The Manyfaced One

The Illustrated Man's page

4 posts. Alias of Emperor7.


Are you reading my butt?

Picture this

As Rokk enters The Above for the 1st time in his life the brightness overwhelms him. He takes a ragged strip of cloth and covers his eyes, the gauze shielding his eyes from the strength of the Agarthan sun. He begins his trek out of the hills, heading for the shade of the valley below. The ground is softer here. To his feet it is like walking on fur. The brightness of the sun is hidden from time to time by tall columns. They're hard to the touch and rough. High above him the columns are crowned by canopies of green. The shade allows his eyes to adjust more quickly, and he is able to remove the gauze. After several hours exhaustion sets in and he searches for a secluded cranny in which to get some long-overdue sleep.

Shifting frequently in his sleep, his cloak parts and his tattooed skin reveals a shifting swirl of color. A scene takes shape, viewed by no one save perhaps the small animals in the area.

A young girl forages for food in the alleys of a run down dock area. She is covered completely in rough cloth. The only opening is a slit for her eyes. The people in the area look hardened; dangerous. Rough language, dirt, and sadness are the norm. This is a dangerous place for a girl on the cusp of womanhood to be alone.

A rough trio of men exit a tavern, swaying slightly from drink. The spot the young girl. Her back is too them. Evil grins spread upon their faces as they look at each other and nod. Two of them break ranks and make their way to the other end of the alley. The third draws a dagger and heads slowly towards the girl. He is halfways down the alley before the girl senses him. She turns and begins to back up, quickly shifting to make a break for it. She runs smack dab into the arms of his two companions. The man laugh. Their prey is caught. The girl struggles weakly against her abductors. Her eyes harden, and she screams. The screams go unnoticed. "No. You don't want to do this," she finally says. The men laugh.

"Yes, we do," is the only reply, save for the actions of the man with the dagger. He begins to cut at her clothing, revealing her legs. The man grins. His companions chuckle. Holding the dagger in his left hand, he uses his right to caress her young leg, his smile widening as his lust grows. The girl stops struggling, her green eyes take on an inner fire.

The attacker stops, a look of shock on his scarred face. He screams and backs up, dropping his dagger and clutching his right forearm. His hand smolders then begins to sizzle. The smoldering spreads, working its way up his arm. His screams drown out even the din of the dock area. His companions look on with shock. Their grip loosens slightly. The girl kicks one of them with her exposed leg. She is rewarded with a punch from the other. A punch that knocks loose the shroud she is wearing. The man's fist glides across her cheek with the glancing blow. Her skin reacts in its usual fashion. The girl is dazed, and the men throw her against a wall. The loud thump is followed by her collapsing body.

The screams form the 1st man continue to get louder, and soon he is joined by his fellows. A chorus of screams draws attention, even in this rough area. Each man looks in shock as a part of his body begins to melt away; two hands and one leg. As a crowd gathers, the last words the men scream out as they die is that the young girl is a Sea Witch. She is Poison. The crowd's faces change from confusion and shock to a single face of fear.

The dwarf rolls over in his sleep and the scene is hidden. Perhaps Fate is not so cruel. No sound comes from his illustrations.

Cast out. Again.

The story's been the same ever since...they appeared. Right as he neared the change from child to man. Once their nature was discovered, he was quickly put out from his home. And every home since.

An outsider from birth, due to his lack of speech, Fate seems to enjoy cruel jokes at his expense. He stops to rub the soon-to-be bruises on his body. Bruises that will never be seen, hidden by the swirls of color that cover his entire body. The pain of the stoning will fade. The curses from his last hope for a home will follow him for much longer. 'CURSED! DOOMSAYER! EVIL ONE!'

Young by the measure of his race, the dwarf begins the trek through the tunnels from The Below. There is no place left to try here. Maybe The Above will yield better results. He gathers his ragged cloak, a blanket in more ways than clothing, and pulls up the hood. The light ahead tells him he is near. Best not to let his 'problem' be noticed too quickly.

He silently sings a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. He stops himself. Best to leave that part of him in The Below.

No name yet. Just a title. Whatcha think? I have another creation in the works as well.