[ Graduation Dungeon ] Ren ★fin

[kuropeco]

When they came for him, he wasn't ready.

If he'd been aware of what was happening, he would have squirmed, kicked, squawked, screeched, and done all sorts of other nonsensical and probably useless things to resist, but as it was, they moved so quickly and efficiently that in the end Ren was just grateful he was actually dressed instead of in some other possible embarrassing things when one was accosted unexpectedly from their room.

When he hit the ground, he gave a grunt of pain, rubbing his nose, and by the time he looked up, the hooded figures - whoever they had been - were gone, leaving him entirely alone in the room. The only thing in front of him was a door, a set of torches flanking each side - and, thankfully, a banner strung between them that proclaimed, in bright orange letters, Welcome to the Graduation Dungeon.

"...well, then."

 

[kuropeco]

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Without Knowing the Name of the Trampled Flowers

As you step into the room, a thick mist arises. It consumes you, leaving you with nothing but a great, vast hunger. The many whispering voices tell you that you are now an Insanity Titan. Where are you now? Halloween, Human World, Deus Ex? Do you fight to control your hunger, or do you let your hunger control you?

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Everything is gray.

It's the first thing he notices and the last thing he'll see, though he doesn't know it yet. The gray wraps around him like a blanket, cocooning him in its midst, sinking into his veins like a mist. He can feel it encircling him, but that is all he feels, and then he feels nothing at all.

Nothing except the hunger.

He has never quite known hunger like the hunger he feels. Hunger for food is one thing. Hunger for companionship is something he's learned to crave, learned to live with, learned to accept because he will always crave that. It is a part of him as much as he is a part of it.

No, this hunger is different. This hunger consumes.

He doesn't know where he is. At first, he thinks he's back at Amityville, back at the first place where he's ever truly felt as though he belonged. Amityville accepted him when his own family did not - a family he disowned, and who disowned him, a family he no longer calls family. He still remembers the day he told them don't call me again. Don't talk to me again. We're through here, we're done; and he's certain they do too, because they have not tried again, not since that day.

It is at Amityville that he has found his family, and he can see them, right in front of him, made of grays and whites and shadows. When he reaches for them, they dissipate away before he can touch them.

He's not at Amityville. The gray mist shifts around him, engulfs him like a familiar friend.

He stands alone in a vast world that stretches out in front of him. Everything is unfamiliar, confusing, chaotic. Things - people - pass by him as though he does not exist, and maybe he doesn't, maybe he's not really real. One hand twitches, talons extending from freckled fingers, long and sharp and itching to reach out, to latch onto the nearest person and twist their neck to the side, hear the snap of their bones. He can taste the fear on his tongue, the pain, the anguish, the mess inside of his head.

It makes him sick to think about it, but he cannot stop himself from thinking about it.

The hunger claws at his stomach like a beast ready to escape, like an infernal creature trying to rip its way to freedom. It crawls up into his chest, seizes his heart, wraps him in fear and comfort simultaneously, and he curls into himself, crouching down so that his knees are drawn up against his chest. He curves his arms around his legs, his wings mimicking the gesture around his body, and then he is rocking back and forth, his face bent so that his nose touches his knees, so that he can no longer see the world around him, so that he is cut off from seeing what lies in front of him.

He doesn't want this.

He wants this.

His head aches with the effort of reigning it all in. The hunger pulls at him, and he has never been strong of heart, strong of mind. He's never been confident in his own abilities because there has been no one to be confident in him. His father's voice, warped and distorted, dripping with blood, echoes in his ears, and Ren puts his hands up over them, flattening them down against his head, trying to block them out.

He wants this.

He doesn't want this.

He can do this.

He can't do this.

He can.

He closes his eyes, tries to block out the sounds, the sights, the smells, the gray. The talons of his own hands dig into his skull, tangle in the golden brown curls, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to remind him that he's still, that he still exists, that the hunger has not yet gotten all of him. He can still feel it, deep in his stomach, aching in his chest, but it is not all of him.

Not yet. He draws a short, sharp breath.

One moment longer. One step further.

One more breath.

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

Interview With A Gryphon

As you enter the room, you feel the overwhelming urge to sit down. It is then that you realize you are currently being interviewed. Is it for a newspaper? TV? Radio? Why are you being interviewed? What did you do?

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"Testing...testing...is this thing on? Yes? Okay. It's on. Good. Hi there, I'm Stefan Coldbear and I'm here today interviewing Mr. Renaissance here today, good afternoon Renaissance!"

"Just Ren is fine."

"Well then, good afternoon Ren! May I ask how you're doing this particular afternoon? It's been a pretty big day, after all."

"Haha, yes it has! And I'm doing pretty well, Stefan, thank you for asking. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around everything that's happened, but maybe one day I'll get the hang of this whole thing. It's not quite really settled in just yet, know what I mean?"

"Do I ever! Well, let me be the first to congratulate you on your overwhelming success!"

"Thank you."

"So tell me - how does it feel?"

"That's such a strange question, you know. I've always thought being asked that is just a weird way. How do you say what you really feel? Nobody honestly knows unless they're inside of your head, so you can say that you feel like a turnip and nobody will know otherwise."

"Well put. So let's put it this way - what do you want to say about this particular honor that's been bestowed on you?"

"To be fair, I'm still sorta in shock over it. I never thought something like this would happen to me, ever, so trying to say anything about it is like trying to describe sleeping to someone who's never slept before. Everything is confusing and muddled and wonderful and really I just can't figure anything out right now. My brain is mush."

"Hopefully a good kind of mush."

"Yes, definitely. Definitely a good kind of mush."

"You're married, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"And what does your wife think? Or rather, what does your wife have to say about this special thing that's happened to you?"

"Haha; at first she teased me mercilessly about it, and she did a lot of giggling and laughing, which was adorable, as always - but in the end, she was just super happy for me, which I really appreciate. If she wasn't happy, I might have been concerned, but, well, she's my wife and she loves me, so she's happy for me."

"And how long have you two lovebirds been married, then?"

"More like 'lovecreatures,' as she's a werewolf and I'm a gryphon, but I get your point. And we've been married for almost three years now."

"Congratulations! Any little ones?"

"Just the one; a little boil. We call him Smallfry, or sometimes just Smalls, but his real name is Lute."

"Have you told him about this?"

"Yeah, my wife did. She said, 'Honey, your dad is Teacher of the Year at Amityville! Can you say that?' and he just went 'TEACH' really loud, so I'm not quite sure he's grasped the concept yet, but it was still cute. He's ridiculously adorable, I've got like five thousand and one pictures if you want to see - see, look, here's one of him eating (his cheeks are all poofy like that when he's upset) and here's one of him rolling over for the first time, and here's one of him trying to take off his shirt ('like father like son', my wife said), and here's one of him with a spoon - "

"Er, yes, right, so going back to your award..."

"Oh, yes, sorry. I got a bit carried away - I do that, my wife is always telling me to tone it down, but well, you can see why. I do the same thing with my little brother, since he's one of my most precious things in the world."

"That's really cute. You seem to really love and care for your family a great deal."

"Thanks. And I do. You know, I grew up in a house that wasn't exactly...well, it wasn't that pleasant. It was downright awful, really. But when I came to Amityville it was like all these doors opened for me, y'know? Suddenly I was in a place where I mattered, and where people actually thought I mattered back. It's where I met my wife, my adopted little brother, my best friends Tybalt and Gabrian, everyone I care for. It's where I first figured out what the words 'family' and 'home' really meant. And yeah, sometimes it sucked, sometimes we died, sometimes other people died and didn't come back, but it was still the best place I've been. So it was only right that I went back to teach there. Getting Teacher of the Year was just icing on the cake, really. I'm really, really honored."

"And we're honored that you're honored. I think that's all we have time for today, so thank you for coming to talk to me today, Renaissance. It's been a pleasure."

"Thank you for having me. I've always loved The Coldbear Retort, so thanks for letting me live out one of my fantasies, here, Stefan."

"Thanks for being Teacher of the Year. Until next time, folks!"

 

[kuropeco]

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What Doesn't Kill You

You step into a room. It's a bare, plain room. By the time you reach the middle it warps and shifts, and you are left facing your greatest fear. What is it and how do you deal with it?

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He didn't know where he was.

The room that stretched out in front of him was a plain one, devoid of any decorations at all, and for a moment Ren was certain he'd come to the wrong place and the wrong time. But then he felt the ground beneath his feet give a little shudder, as if something had hit it from below. He took a step back, slightly concerned, and the room gave a second shudder, a pulse running up and down the walls. The white of the left wall jerked and twisted, and then without warning it began to melt, long white streaks dripping towards the floor. The wall on the right began to the same thing, Ren's head jerking back and forth between the two, his wings giving a flap of protest, his stomach twisting.

The white pooled at the base of the wall, stretching along the spaces, filling in...and it was getting steadily darker, from a pure white to a low gray to something a little brighter - a dirty, dark scarlet that was almost black that steadily grew lighter until it was a vibrant blood red. Scarlet streams undulated along the ground, and it was hard to stand, to walk. Ren tried to lift his foot, to leave, but when he did he found he was barefoot, and that his foot was now dripping with the bloody red liquid. He gave a little gasp of terror and staggered backwards, his back hitting the wall, several feathers twisting off and fluttering down, landing in the sticky mess.

It smelled like copper. And there was something lying across the floor several feet away, on its side.

With a feeling something akin to panic in his stomach, Ren pushed himself away from the wall and took several slow steps forward, each one making him wince, the scarlet liquid spreading up the legs of his pants, staining it red. He could feel his heart clattering noisily against his chest, and suddenly it felt as though the air in the room had grown thinner, making it more difficult to breathe.

He didn't want to see what the thing was.

Yet his body moved forward automatically, as though something in it was ingrained into the mind to make it step, and Ren found himself drawing nearer and nearer to the thing - and he could see it was a body now -

- a body with gold hair, stained red at the ends, little braids falling across the ashen face.

Ren dropped to his knees, and the red made a splash, spattering his legs and the walls around him with red. A hand stretched out towards the body on the ground, trembling so violently he almost couldn't control his whole arm. Fingers touched the cold face of the body, and with effort Ren rolled it over.

He almost did not reign in the yell of surprise that threatened to escape his throat. As it was, a half strangled sob came out, Ren's stomach rebelling, nearly making him retch, and he scrambled backwards away from the body, from the thing, lying half submerged in the blood around it. And now his own whole body was shaking, Ren lifting his hands to cover his face, not wanting to see it, not able to see it, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think -

I'm not dead, he thought, desperate to reassure himself, to remind himself. I'm not dead, I'm not dead, I'm not dead, I'm not not not not not dead, I'm still here, I'm alive, I'm NOT DEAD -

Not yet, said a nasty little voice in the back of his head.

- not dead not dead not dead not dead -

But even as he repeated the voices like a mantra inside of his head, more bodies had started to appear beside the twisted version of his own - a ghoul's body, with familiar bright red hair matted with blood, her face covered by it - a much smaller body, pale and little, with ghostly blue hair and freckles that were covered by specks of scarlet - and more -

Ren turned to the side, one hand over his mouth, the other pressed to his stomach as he dry heaved, his chest feeling so tight he was surprised he could draw breath. His throat felt dry, raw, and his eyes burned with the effort of holding back the tears that were making them red, as red as the blood -

- not dead not dead not dead not dead not dead -

Aren't you? said the nasty little voice. Aren't you already?

- not dead not dead not dead not dead not dead -

But you are. You're already dead, and so is everyone that you care for, your ghoulfriend, your brother, your friends...everything you've ever cared for is gone.

- NOT DEAD NOT DEAD NOT DEAD NOT DEAD -

You are alone.

"I'M NOT DEAD!" Ren shrieked, tears sliding down his cheeks and something in the room shivered violently, the entire place shaking. Blood splashed against the walls, against his legs, but somehow it seemed less than it was before, somehow it seemed slightly thinner. Ren clutched at his head, fingers digging into his skull.

"THEY'RE - "

He drew a sharp, painful breath.

"NOT - "

The room was shaking so badly it was hard to stand still.

"DEAD - "

He could taste copper on his tongue -

"WE'RE NOT DEAD - "

A long, drawn out scream ripped from Ren's throat, the sound so loud it was deafening, echoing around the room, reverberating from wall to wall until nothing was audible anymore except the echoes and a window shattered somewhere to the side, glass spitting across the room -

- and then it was silent.

Everything was silent.

When he opened his eyes, the blood - and the bodies - were gone. The room was empty, and Ren lowered shaking hands, his body still trembling. His wings gave a jerk and a shudder, lowering so that they could settle against his back. He stood, pushing himself to his feet, and swayed on unsteady legs, staggering back several steps.

I'm not dead.

No, you're not.

The little voice was back, but this time it was quieter, more subdued, hardly even audible. Ren took a great, gulping breath, pressing a hand to his chest to try and calm down.

I'm alive. They're alive. We're alive.

Yes. You are, said the voice.

You are alive.

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

Without Knowing the Name of the Trampled Flowers

As you step into the room, a thick mist arises. It consumes you, leaving you with nothing but a great, vast hunger. The many whispering voices tell you that you are now an Insanity Titan. Where are you now? Halloween, Human World, Deus Ex? Do you fight to control your hunger, or do you let your hunger control you?

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Prompt already rolled.

 

[kuropeco]

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What Doesn't Kill You

You step into a room. It's a bare, plain room. By the time you reach the middle it warps and shifts, and you are left facing your greatest fear. What is it and how do you deal with it?

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Prompt already rolled.

 

[kuropeco]

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The World In My Hands

The room you step into shifts and spins. When it settles, something tells you you're in the Human World. What will you do? Will you harvest Fear the Halloween or Horseman way? Will you perform Tricks or Treats? You have full run of the Human World now. What will you do?

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This world is filled with fear.

I don't mean the kind of Fear that I like; the kind of Fear that my kind thrive off of, the kind of Fear that makes up the very core of my existence and the existence of everything I have ever known; the kind of Fear that makes it possible for me to do the things I do, to say the things I say, to be the thing that I am.

I mean the kind of fear that eats away at you, that draws you in like a creature that wishes to consume you, and then, if you let it, drown you as well.

Fear is such a strange emotion, after all. Sometimes it's paralyzing. Sometimes it's nauseating. Sometimes it's exhilarating, overwhelming confusing, messy, chaotic - a combination of two, or perhaps a mix of anything and everything.

Sometimes it's just terrifying.

This world - this world that the humans have built with hands that hold weapons meant to kill us - is filled with both fear and Fear. I can see in the eyes of the young ones that pass by, clutching their parents hands, wide eyes glancing at everyone, jumping at every shadow. Not that the parents care, because I can see the dismissive look in their eyes, the impatient tug forward to keep walking, to not be distracted by things that "aren't there" and are "just your imagination."

That look is just like my father and mother's.

I stand here and watch them pass, and sometimes they notice me. Sometimes they catch on that there's something off about the shadows they take for granted, but most of the time they brush it off as a trick of the eyes, or perhaps just the light hitting the corner a strange way to create an illusion in the shadows.

How wrong they are.

The scent is different up here. I don't have Tybalt's sense of smell, but I do have keener senses than most, being what I am. In Amityville it smells like spices and fog and smoke and rain and pumpkins. Here, everything is so mixed up that it's difficult to discern one thing from another. Sometimes I catch a scent of something like grass, but other times it's something more acrid, more nauseating, and I have to restrain myself from retching.

I don't like the humans.

The humans have destroyed my home so many times that it's only fair I should destroy theirs. But where their destruction is reckless, done without thought, without preamble, without so much as a consideration for what it is that we are, my destruction of them will be so much more simple - if that is the path I choose, after all, and I'm still not sure if it is.

Destruction is so easy when all one has to do is set the stage.

Humans are foolish creatures. Given the chance, they would betray themselves at a single notice in order to protect themselves. They are selfish, flawed, confused, mixed up, messed up. They don't think before they act, and when they do act it's for their own selfish reasons that make little difference in our world. This isn't to say my world is without flaws, because we are, Jack knows we are, but at least we don't destroy homes and friendships and families without reason.

They attack us just because we exist.

They claim we attack them, but we attack because we are being attacked; it's our defense. We are just defending ourselves against them, nothing more, except they don't see it as such.

It's a shame, really, because maybe we could have possibly gotten along at some point. Maybe if they hadn't come at us directly as though they were going to kill us, we could have formed a partnership of sorts, an agreement. Live and let die, isn't that what I heard one of the humans say as they passed by, unknowing that there was a monster standing behind the tree to their left?

Live and let die, forgive and forget.

It's all just a ruse, a scam. None of it's real, none of it's truthful. How can you just let something die when it's trying to kill you? If it's standing next to you with a knife in your gut, do you just forgive it and move along peacefully to your death? I can't possibly see how this is fair to us, because we have done nothing to warrant their anger, their distrust.

Sometimes I forget that the humans are as foolish as they are, but then they go and do something else, and I remember.

I won't destroy this world. That would be too easy, too quick, too useless. Destroying this world, when it is filled with fear and Fear and artifacts and questions and answers is like throwing out the answers to a particularly hard test. And someone once told me sometimes you have to get yourself dirty if you want to play in the mud.

Well, here I am in the mud. And it's time to get dirty.

So I'll act casual. I'll be myself, I don't want to draw too much attention to the fact that I now exist within this world. I'll do some tricks here, some treating there. I'll find a way to harvest Fear, to draw it to myself for later use.

And when they are ready, when they are lying in bed all peaceful and rested, ready to sleep, ready to let go of their day and just simply relax, that is when I will appear, on the edges of their dreams, to remind them that we exist, that we have as much right to this world as they do.

I don't know how this will end, or how I will end. But I won't stand idly by, not when I have the opportunity that I do to be here.

They will let their guards down, and when they finally let go, I will be waiting.

 

[kuropeco]

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BOSS PROMPT

You enter a circular room. A fine, clean mist covers the ground. The clatter of steel and iron can be heard as a large figure emerges from the mist. Some may be jolted with recognition. Others may marvel at how large and foreboding the figure is.

The large, Green Knight plants itself in your way. Beyond it you can see something glimmering, something you want really badly: your diploma.

A large, shadowy javelin suddenly appears between your feet as you try to step forward.

"HALT. YOU SHALL NOT PASS."

Of course it was going to end with a fight. You ready yourself and prepare for combat!


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He was huge.

Ren stood for a long moment, staring up at the creature. He said nothing at first, merely wondered whether or not he was going to be able to make it through - and yet for the most part he wasn't afraid, wasn't upset or angry or anything. Determination slid through him like cold ice in his veins, and Ren lifted his head, his eyes flashing.

"Yes," he said, in answer to the knight's declaration. "I will.

"And you're gonna let me."

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

HP: 45 / 50
DMG: 6
HITS: 1 / 3

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The talons extended along his left hand, finger bones cracking and jerking into place as they claws replaced them. Ren took a step forward, and his wings gave a single flap, a feather slipping free and fluttering towards the ground, where it landed silently, like an unobtrusive beacon. Of what, Ren wasn't sure, but it was there and it made him feel strangely reassured just looking at it.

He lunged.

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

HP: 40 / 50
DMG: 5
HITS: 2 / 3

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Talons ripped into the creature's side, and Ren was no longer a gryphon, but a blur as he soared through the air, moving as fast as he could. He landed on the knight's back and sank his claws into the sides of its neck, feet braced against its hips to keep himself steady. The knight made a strangled sort of sound, but Ren gave another twist of his wrist, and a catlike growl escaped his throat.

"You will let me pass."

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

HP: 30 / 50
DMG: 0
HITS: 2 / 3

┗━━━━━━━━━┛

He felt invigorated, energized by the furious denial of the knight that swayed in front of him. Ren took a swipe towards it, talons barely scraping the outside of the armor, and danced backwards. Something hit him around the side of his face - the knight had backhanded him - and stars exploded in Ren's line of vision. He hit the wall and collapsed in a heap on the ground, gasping for breath -

- but then he was back on his feet, unsteady, perhaps a bit more than he had been before, but still on his feet.

"That the best you got, tin man?"

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

HP: 25 / 50
DMG: 1
HITS: 3 / 3

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Sweat beaded on his forehead, slid down his face. And still Ren leapt, jumped, bounded, his tail whipping behind him, his hair cascading over his shoulders. It had grown too long, he thought, as he twisted away from the knight's grasp. He had probably better cut it soon.

When I am done here, Ren thought. I will go fix my hair.

His hand shot out, talons catching the knight's arm and scraping hard.

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

HP: 25 / 50
DMG: zippo A+ ren

┗━━━━━━━━━┛

He could feel his heart beating almost in slow motion.

His next attack missed entirely.

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

HP: 20 / 50
DMG: 2
HITS: 1 / 3

┗━━━━━━━━━┛

It was hard to breathe, to think.

He was moving blindly now, Ren lashing out at the knight in quick successive gestures, though the blows were merely glancing off of its armor, hardly doing it justice. He moved sideways, wings flapping, and managed to kick it in the side, sending it staggering sideways.

 

[kuropeco]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

HP: 15 / 50
DMG: 1
HITS: 2 / 3

┗━━━━━━━━━┛

He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.

Ren kept moving.