Post by lithuania on Mar 24, 2013 17:14:53 GMT -6
A creak penetrated the nothingness he'd been immersed within, pulling him toward the awareness he hadn't known existed before this exact moment. When another creak drifted over, seeming like someone...or something...was wandering around, his green eyes opened letting what surrounded him come into focus. The walls stood torn and several pieces of darkened furniture lay crushed beneath the wooden beams that'd been dislodged from the roof overhead at some point. Looking upward, he stared his dulled expression toward the clouds visible through the patches where the fallen pieces had came from. This isn't where I should be. No, that's wrong...I don't know where am I supposed to be.
He brought one hand over his face as he tried remembering how he'd gotten here, wherever here was given he found that information absent from his mind too. Once realizing that he focused on thinking about what he could remember from before. There was...this wasn't... The thought withdrew from him and escaped beyond his mental reach, leaving just fragments behind that didn't even have his name among them. From his chest a fear would've bubbled upward, clenching inside his throat as it couldn't pass through that narrow space. There it cut off his voice forcing his thought to remain inward, or that's what he felt was supposed to happen.
Who am I? What...what could've happened? My name...what was my name? I don't know, and I've no idea about what is going on beyond that either. His hand dropped from his face with green eyes turning once more onto the walls surrounding him, still finding them completely foreign. Nothing else around him here struck a familiar chord either as he looked around seeking anything that'd bring his memories rushing back, it all remained distant from him. The more he looked around, the more he realized it wasn't getting him anywhere.
Though his feet settled beneath him, he stopped, having noticed he wasn't even touching the ground. After all he'd nothing to work from until several thoughts later when the creaking from earlier rang out reminding him about what'd pulled him awake in the first place. The sound coming from somewhere outside carried through the holes spread around the room.
Now aware where it came from his green eyes swept across the four walls around him, soon stopping once they landed on what seemed the main door. He hesitated, not too certain whether the creaking sounded safe but, then again, he found he couldn't recall what safe sounded like either. Still not moving, his feet remained there, his uncertainty rooting him in place because there was so much he didn't know about his situation. "Um."
The inhabitant gazed down at the guest floating before him, the soul of the body now resting somewhere secret. “You know… even for a spirit, I must say that you are quite pathetic,” the reaper spoke quietly, mostly to himself, before he shook his hooded head and leaned his skeletal face near Lithuania’s.
He flinched backward as those strange features didn't make him feel that comfortable, nor had he noticed it until right before it'd spoken. But...what it said, despite the insult, rooted him in place because it gave him something to call himself. A spirit? Was that what he was?
“Welcome dear guest!” the Inhabitant exclaimed, acting as if he had never insulted Toris, “Now, I know that you must be experiencing an immense amount of confusion at the moment but I must express the importance of my next instructions, for I will not repeat them and I will not remain to be questioned.” The reaper then swept his arms wide and bowed, “I am called the First Inhabitant and am titled as such for my twin brother and I are the loyal servants to our Master, the Baudeau Manor,” with his introduction aside, the Inhabitant swept his skeleton hands within his large sleeves and began to recite his instructions with sudden boom of his deep voice, “You are dead! Is that not wonderful? You have been freed from your physical form and are now a spirit within my Master, but do not despair if this is not fitting for you, for there is a way to once more live! Once I vanish, you will feel the urge to travel and will come upon the great graveyard of the Baudeau Manor. In the spiritual realm, it is far greater than it would be if you were living and it is your choice to find… well, your grave.” The First Inhabitant grinned wickedly, not giving the nation a moment to register his words before he continued, “Now, I do realize that your memory's not what it used to be and I’m afraid you may not even know who you are, but…. it’ll come with time!” With that, the reaper began to turn to leave but paused to look back at Toris to say in parting. “However, I would recommend that you do not take too long to return to your body because, my Master’s great power will begin to… change you if you hesitate. Best of luck and I bid you farewell!” The skeleton ended with a hearty, dark laugh and began to move towards the wall, which he plainly materialized through and disappeared, his laughter echoing through the place in his wake.
A sense remained that his skin would've be crawling under normal circumstances. What normal circumstances were continued eluding him but the lingering unease when the First Inhabitant's explanation resumed made him twitch after each gesture. Then it said something that his expression reacted toward for the first time since he'd woken, eyes widening from horror as several thoughts raced through his head. I've died? I...I know what that is and am pretty sure that it's not supposed to be possible. Before he identified what made it impossible, the words coming from the Inhabitent seemed important and it drew his attention onto them again. In another moment it disappeared through the wall beside them and he, jerking toward the side, distanced himself from there before it could've tried swallowing him too.
Given those bones had appeared solid he easily imagined the wall was capable of letting him through, or eating him, though he couldn't remember what caused said idea to spring forward. For some reason I don't see how being dead is wonderful but...that is even without knowing what being alive was like. I shouldn't react like this without knowing why. Why does being dead, why does no longer breathing air unsettle me so much? Oh! His hand curled over where his heart would've been located...were he alive with an actual breathing body...for he did remember something after all. Air once brushed against his nose when he inhaled and exhaled, his heart once raced but he couldn't remember what'd send it racing. There was something about the thought of air entering his lungs that seemed bright, setting it rather far apart from the void where his memories should've been.
From elsewhere within that void something else pulled at his consciousness, if it could still be called that, wanting him to move, wanting him out of wherever here was. The Inhabitant had mentioned he'd experience an urge about traveling through the Manor but what about the thoughts he hadn't dealt with yet? Though drawn toward the door he'd spotted earlier, he hesitated, letting thoughts wash over him that almost immediately were driven out as another creak rang from somewhere outside this place.
As the sound faded, the escaping thought returned from where it'd been pushed into the back of his mind. Not to mention the way it spoke about me being changed didn't sound that comforting, it even went as far as seeming rather...threatening. Yes, that is the correct word for it. Threatening like it isn't something that I should let happen. I've so many impressions of what I should feel but no memory over why I would be feeling them, will that come back if given time too? That...Inhabitant of this place said I would remember who I am eventually. How do I decide what direction I should go without my memories? There's no guarantee I knew where things were even before I died...so waiting until I remember might not do me any good. The pull toward the door strengthened over the period he floated around, weakening his resolve about working through each and every thought until he found more memories. It seems like I've no choice.
When another creak sounded, he shuddered, snapping from his hesitation as no other thought could overwhelm the sound anymore. There's that creaking again. Where did it come from? What is causing it? Moving forward, slow and hesitant, he picked his way around the caved-in wood between him and where the door was along the wall. He reached carefully out toward the dark-stained handle as he approached, his fingers went through it never feeling it's presence under their touch. Trying another time, his fingers closed uselessly around mere air like the handle didn't really exist. Except, realizing this must've been part of being without his body, he shuddered over seeing his hand halfway through that useless-to-him handle.
That could mean I can just drift through the door. Of course that unnerved sensation beginning inside him swelled further when he considered the idea of merely stepping through the door like it didn't exist. If nothing else that proved the Inhabitants claim about him being pathetic to some degree. For some reason though he wasn't discouraged from continuing forward and he took a breath, not feeling it although he knew it would've happened were he alive, before pushing his hand through the door. Despite it's solid appearance, there was no resistance against his passage as his hand lead the way through being followed by the rest of himself.
A wood blocking his view dominated what was visible until he found himself floating outside, having reached the other side with more building around him. Their somewhat burnt exteriors matched the shack behind him that he'd exited from, some were damaged so bad that sections had collapsed inward. Given the wreck he'd came from he envisioned their interiors looked about the same and it'd weakened their structures enough that numerous places inside could be creaking under the stress. From the looks of the place, the creaking could've came from any of these shacks. They aren't that safe looking either...if I was alive I wouldn't enter any of them unless there was a good reason for doing so. His eyes remained trained onto the shacks for another moment as it crept through him that even dead he wasn't that eager about seeing what was inside those places. Despite that he needn't worry about his head being split open should more planks collapse inward, something about the darkness spread across there wasn't welcoming.
That darkness felt thicker, more impenetrable and dangerous under the clouds, hiding whatever stars might've been within the night-time sky. Nor was it just the darkness. Since he couldn't feel the air, it whispered around him in a small breeze that somehow seemed thick, like it'd normally clutch onto a person heavier than it should. Another creak drifted over calling toward him from somewhere among the buildings but the curiosity that'd hung over him was losing strength rather fast. It confronted the horrible looking place then, like the spirit himself, it too cowered letting the creak disappear into nothingness under the breeze.
Those aren't footsteps. They aren't from some...urg...I can't remember what they're called but that sound would've happened more often if it was from them. Would a graveyard be something that is inside? No...not a graveyard that warranted being called 'great'. These shacks are too small for that, I think. Any reason he'd seek whatever made the creaking noise was fast losing every foothold it'd established among his thoughts and he watched the shacks, drifting backward. He latched onto what the Inhabitant had said about seeking out the graveyard now as it really sounded a better place compare with the heaviness pressing around him. Nevermind that he couldn't feel the heaviness, just knowing it was there seemed bad enough. Just get me away from here.
He drifted further from there in response, not removing his eyes because he dared not risk looking away, not until he decided nothing was following him. Once more distant he turned and finally checked where he'd been headed.
---
After sometime drifting around, he couldn't determine how long it'd been but the vastness of land under the Manor's control was becoming rather apparent. Time didn't seem like it was passing since the clouds remained as if permanently affixed within the sky above. The first feature standing out from the dreariness rose before him eventually, being one lone hill that's single companion seemed to be the tree rising out of it's peak. From what he remembered a tree was alive and the promise of something alive drew him in closer, setting his pace at what seemed it would've otherwise been a normal walk. But he couldn't feel anything under his feet, couldn't feel the strain that climbing would've put onto someone else not dead. I wonder what the ground feels like.
His gaze flickered onto the ground, watching it pass beneath him for several 'steps' before returning his attention onto the tree he was approaching. Several ropes came into view, dangling from where they're tied onto the largest branch, so he spotted them immediately once his gaze had risen from the ground. As well as spotted the nooses tied at their ends. He froze as what interest he'd possessed toward the hill went fleeing, leaving not one shred of itself anywhere that could be found within his head.
Okay, this isn't somewhere that I'd call alive either. Getting rid of those ropes wouldn't take much work and were it not for them it'd seem an agreeable little hill, you'd never realize that someone...must've died here. The surge of horror made his eyes clench themselves shut, his intangible form shuddering as the realization sank in that this could've been where he died for all he knew. Then again, I can almost see the First Inhabitant's Master wanting those who discover this hill to realize that people have died here. Or start wondering if they're the ones that were hung, although it wouldn't get them any nearer to the graveyard. For some reason I'm certain there are other features around here that're deadly and it being nicer if the tree was alone under that category won't matter much. Not where this Master is concerned, will it? Something about that thought brought another one whispering though his head from wherever it'd been hidden until now, informing him about there being something on his back. He reached around behind him but soon realized he couldn't even feel the pressure from the hand being pressed against where his spine would've been.
There was nothing he could've done about it beyond finding that graveyard so, dropping the useless hand down beside himself, he opened his eyes, once more facing the rather unwanted sight of nooses. One of those could've been easily slipped around his neck...
Turning with a rather frantic movement, he hurried down the hill going the direction he'd came from and headed off toward somewhere else once having reached the bottom. Again what time progressed around him escaped his recognition, it might've been mere minutes or it might've continued on over numerous hours. He found another several landmarks that, while not the graveyard he was seeking, likewise didn't possess the same deathly pallor that'd hung over those first places. Not finding the graveyard among the places outside he drifted over toward the Manor wondering how a graveyard could've been inside.
---
A blank expression of someone that didn't remember what should've been there hung across his face as he drifted into the courtyard from the Manor that encircled it. Rising as mere tatters that're unlike what must've been it's former glory, the structure caught his eye but his attention strayed with the first grave he'd seen drawing him toward the fenced-off area instead. When he moved beyond the fence more tombstones spread out until one grave after another made it become a vast field that faced him. What...would've brought me here of all places? His course drifting forward, certain about his course, went into stopping dead before the second tombstone and stared toward the words carved across it without discovering even one answer. This is... I came here... Who I am...
He groaned, clutching his head, as various thought flew through it unfinished because he couldn't remember what would've finished them. There should've been a chill around here too... Despite the confusion that weighed him down, he felt certain he was looking for something rather important, something he shouldn't have forgotten among those graves. Lowering his hands, he peered toward the tombstone beside him but the unfamiliar name he saw carved there made him shake his head. Since that wasn't the correct spot, he drifted onward, passing the next tombstone after he glanced toward the corresponding flower and name that belonged with it.
Soon he found himself becoming uncertain about which tombstones he'd checked, there were more extending out around him into what seemed an endless expanse. He couldn't determine anymore whether he'd accidentally doubled back on himself during the search at some point. If I knew what I was looking for it still wouldn't get me somewhere any faster, not when I've these countless tombstones surrounding me that need to be looked through. Then again it seems so strange that I can't remember what I'm doing. Was there some reason for this happening... His arm wrapped around his stomach area and startled him from his thoughts, that he hadn't expected that movement made it come across as instinctive.
Not one former thought remained once the realization he'd still been moving, pulled forward attached onto some subconscious string that didn't care much about what clambered through his head, sank in. A somewhat familiar sensation descended across his expression, a nervous shadow making him severely uncomfortable about having not noticed. He tossed one hesitant glance over his shoulder and disappointment slowed him further, permeating his forward momentum when none of the flowers accompanying the graves was familiar.
Questions about whether the aimless wandering had gotten him anywhere crossed his mind, tormenting him whenever he'd went passing another meaningless grave. There were many names dancing within his head but none seemed like what he sought, eventually the earlier ones blended together into some unintelligible mess after each new tombstone. Likewise he asked himself how much time he'd spent in looking around. Somewhere after the 50th grave the amount of time he'd been drifting among the stone slabs escaped him, his non-existent stomach rolled, being unnerved about how many had died here.
It took passing another 30ish graves before a familiar color came teasing across the corner of his eyes, making him look toward where it rested. Those yellow, but fingered, petals cast their brightness throughout the stagnant gloom that'd cloaked the grave within pure stillness, as dead as each previous grave. Seeing those familiar petals sent relief surging through him. Because he remembered that flower from somewhere, because that slight knowledge made the tombstone seem more alive despite it being made of stone, he drew nearer the grave with his eyes focused unwaveringly on the Rue. He dropped straight onto both knees beside the grave, reaching toward the Rue until his hands paused mere inches from the delicate petals.
This can't have been everything, can it? It is my flower. His gaze rose, breaking the fixation he'd shown toward the flower, and brought his attention onto the tombstone that'd been awaiting him. "Here lies Tor...Toris Laurinaitis." Abandoning the flower, his hand reached toward the name carved onto the tombstone then something tugged his arm downward before he could've touched it. Just as he shuddered there was a sudden, external force dragging him through the dirt.
He brought one hand over his face as he tried remembering how he'd gotten here, wherever here was given he found that information absent from his mind too. Once realizing that he focused on thinking about what he could remember from before. There was...this wasn't... The thought withdrew from him and escaped beyond his mental reach, leaving just fragments behind that didn't even have his name among them. From his chest a fear would've bubbled upward, clenching inside his throat as it couldn't pass through that narrow space. There it cut off his voice forcing his thought to remain inward, or that's what he felt was supposed to happen.
Who am I? What...what could've happened? My name...what was my name? I don't know, and I've no idea about what is going on beyond that either. His hand dropped from his face with green eyes turning once more onto the walls surrounding him, still finding them completely foreign. Nothing else around him here struck a familiar chord either as he looked around seeking anything that'd bring his memories rushing back, it all remained distant from him. The more he looked around, the more he realized it wasn't getting him anywhere.
Though his feet settled beneath him, he stopped, having noticed he wasn't even touching the ground. After all he'd nothing to work from until several thoughts later when the creaking from earlier rang out reminding him about what'd pulled him awake in the first place. The sound coming from somewhere outside carried through the holes spread around the room.
Now aware where it came from his green eyes swept across the four walls around him, soon stopping once they landed on what seemed the main door. He hesitated, not too certain whether the creaking sounded safe but, then again, he found he couldn't recall what safe sounded like either. Still not moving, his feet remained there, his uncertainty rooting him in place because there was so much he didn't know about his situation. "Um."
The inhabitant gazed down at the guest floating before him, the soul of the body now resting somewhere secret. “You know… even for a spirit, I must say that you are quite pathetic,” the reaper spoke quietly, mostly to himself, before he shook his hooded head and leaned his skeletal face near Lithuania’s.
He flinched backward as those strange features didn't make him feel that comfortable, nor had he noticed it until right before it'd spoken. But...what it said, despite the insult, rooted him in place because it gave him something to call himself. A spirit? Was that what he was?
“Welcome dear guest!” the Inhabitant exclaimed, acting as if he had never insulted Toris, “Now, I know that you must be experiencing an immense amount of confusion at the moment but I must express the importance of my next instructions, for I will not repeat them and I will not remain to be questioned.” The reaper then swept his arms wide and bowed, “I am called the First Inhabitant and am titled as such for my twin brother and I are the loyal servants to our Master, the Baudeau Manor,” with his introduction aside, the Inhabitant swept his skeleton hands within his large sleeves and began to recite his instructions with sudden boom of his deep voice, “You are dead! Is that not wonderful? You have been freed from your physical form and are now a spirit within my Master, but do not despair if this is not fitting for you, for there is a way to once more live! Once I vanish, you will feel the urge to travel and will come upon the great graveyard of the Baudeau Manor. In the spiritual realm, it is far greater than it would be if you were living and it is your choice to find… well, your grave.” The First Inhabitant grinned wickedly, not giving the nation a moment to register his words before he continued, “Now, I do realize that your memory's not what it used to be and I’m afraid you may not even know who you are, but…. it’ll come with time!” With that, the reaper began to turn to leave but paused to look back at Toris to say in parting. “However, I would recommend that you do not take too long to return to your body because, my Master’s great power will begin to… change you if you hesitate. Best of luck and I bid you farewell!” The skeleton ended with a hearty, dark laugh and began to move towards the wall, which he plainly materialized through and disappeared, his laughter echoing through the place in his wake.
A sense remained that his skin would've be crawling under normal circumstances. What normal circumstances were continued eluding him but the lingering unease when the First Inhabitant's explanation resumed made him twitch after each gesture. Then it said something that his expression reacted toward for the first time since he'd woken, eyes widening from horror as several thoughts raced through his head. I've died? I...I know what that is and am pretty sure that it's not supposed to be possible. Before he identified what made it impossible, the words coming from the Inhabitent seemed important and it drew his attention onto them again. In another moment it disappeared through the wall beside them and he, jerking toward the side, distanced himself from there before it could've tried swallowing him too.
Given those bones had appeared solid he easily imagined the wall was capable of letting him through, or eating him, though he couldn't remember what caused said idea to spring forward. For some reason I don't see how being dead is wonderful but...that is even without knowing what being alive was like. I shouldn't react like this without knowing why. Why does being dead, why does no longer breathing air unsettle me so much? Oh! His hand curled over where his heart would've been located...were he alive with an actual breathing body...for he did remember something after all. Air once brushed against his nose when he inhaled and exhaled, his heart once raced but he couldn't remember what'd send it racing. There was something about the thought of air entering his lungs that seemed bright, setting it rather far apart from the void where his memories should've been.
From elsewhere within that void something else pulled at his consciousness, if it could still be called that, wanting him to move, wanting him out of wherever here was. The Inhabitant had mentioned he'd experience an urge about traveling through the Manor but what about the thoughts he hadn't dealt with yet? Though drawn toward the door he'd spotted earlier, he hesitated, letting thoughts wash over him that almost immediately were driven out as another creak rang from somewhere outside this place.
As the sound faded, the escaping thought returned from where it'd been pushed into the back of his mind. Not to mention the way it spoke about me being changed didn't sound that comforting, it even went as far as seeming rather...threatening. Yes, that is the correct word for it. Threatening like it isn't something that I should let happen. I've so many impressions of what I should feel but no memory over why I would be feeling them, will that come back if given time too? That...Inhabitant of this place said I would remember who I am eventually. How do I decide what direction I should go without my memories? There's no guarantee I knew where things were even before I died...so waiting until I remember might not do me any good. The pull toward the door strengthened over the period he floated around, weakening his resolve about working through each and every thought until he found more memories. It seems like I've no choice.
When another creak sounded, he shuddered, snapping from his hesitation as no other thought could overwhelm the sound anymore. There's that creaking again. Where did it come from? What is causing it? Moving forward, slow and hesitant, he picked his way around the caved-in wood between him and where the door was along the wall. He reached carefully out toward the dark-stained handle as he approached, his fingers went through it never feeling it's presence under their touch. Trying another time, his fingers closed uselessly around mere air like the handle didn't really exist. Except, realizing this must've been part of being without his body, he shuddered over seeing his hand halfway through that useless-to-him handle.
That could mean I can just drift through the door. Of course that unnerved sensation beginning inside him swelled further when he considered the idea of merely stepping through the door like it didn't exist. If nothing else that proved the Inhabitants claim about him being pathetic to some degree. For some reason though he wasn't discouraged from continuing forward and he took a breath, not feeling it although he knew it would've happened were he alive, before pushing his hand through the door. Despite it's solid appearance, there was no resistance against his passage as his hand lead the way through being followed by the rest of himself.
A wood blocking his view dominated what was visible until he found himself floating outside, having reached the other side with more building around him. Their somewhat burnt exteriors matched the shack behind him that he'd exited from, some were damaged so bad that sections had collapsed inward. Given the wreck he'd came from he envisioned their interiors looked about the same and it'd weakened their structures enough that numerous places inside could be creaking under the stress. From the looks of the place, the creaking could've came from any of these shacks. They aren't that safe looking either...if I was alive I wouldn't enter any of them unless there was a good reason for doing so. His eyes remained trained onto the shacks for another moment as it crept through him that even dead he wasn't that eager about seeing what was inside those places. Despite that he needn't worry about his head being split open should more planks collapse inward, something about the darkness spread across there wasn't welcoming.
That darkness felt thicker, more impenetrable and dangerous under the clouds, hiding whatever stars might've been within the night-time sky. Nor was it just the darkness. Since he couldn't feel the air, it whispered around him in a small breeze that somehow seemed thick, like it'd normally clutch onto a person heavier than it should. Another creak drifted over calling toward him from somewhere among the buildings but the curiosity that'd hung over him was losing strength rather fast. It confronted the horrible looking place then, like the spirit himself, it too cowered letting the creak disappear into nothingness under the breeze.
Those aren't footsteps. They aren't from some...urg...I can't remember what they're called but that sound would've happened more often if it was from them. Would a graveyard be something that is inside? No...not a graveyard that warranted being called 'great'. These shacks are too small for that, I think. Any reason he'd seek whatever made the creaking noise was fast losing every foothold it'd established among his thoughts and he watched the shacks, drifting backward. He latched onto what the Inhabitant had said about seeking out the graveyard now as it really sounded a better place compare with the heaviness pressing around him. Nevermind that he couldn't feel the heaviness, just knowing it was there seemed bad enough. Just get me away from here.
He drifted further from there in response, not removing his eyes because he dared not risk looking away, not until he decided nothing was following him. Once more distant he turned and finally checked where he'd been headed.
---
After sometime drifting around, he couldn't determine how long it'd been but the vastness of land under the Manor's control was becoming rather apparent. Time didn't seem like it was passing since the clouds remained as if permanently affixed within the sky above. The first feature standing out from the dreariness rose before him eventually, being one lone hill that's single companion seemed to be the tree rising out of it's peak. From what he remembered a tree was alive and the promise of something alive drew him in closer, setting his pace at what seemed it would've otherwise been a normal walk. But he couldn't feel anything under his feet, couldn't feel the strain that climbing would've put onto someone else not dead. I wonder what the ground feels like.
His gaze flickered onto the ground, watching it pass beneath him for several 'steps' before returning his attention onto the tree he was approaching. Several ropes came into view, dangling from where they're tied onto the largest branch, so he spotted them immediately once his gaze had risen from the ground. As well as spotted the nooses tied at their ends. He froze as what interest he'd possessed toward the hill went fleeing, leaving not one shred of itself anywhere that could be found within his head.
Okay, this isn't somewhere that I'd call alive either. Getting rid of those ropes wouldn't take much work and were it not for them it'd seem an agreeable little hill, you'd never realize that someone...must've died here. The surge of horror made his eyes clench themselves shut, his intangible form shuddering as the realization sank in that this could've been where he died for all he knew. Then again, I can almost see the First Inhabitant's Master wanting those who discover this hill to realize that people have died here. Or start wondering if they're the ones that were hung, although it wouldn't get them any nearer to the graveyard. For some reason I'm certain there are other features around here that're deadly and it being nicer if the tree was alone under that category won't matter much. Not where this Master is concerned, will it? Something about that thought brought another one whispering though his head from wherever it'd been hidden until now, informing him about there being something on his back. He reached around behind him but soon realized he couldn't even feel the pressure from the hand being pressed against where his spine would've been.
There was nothing he could've done about it beyond finding that graveyard so, dropping the useless hand down beside himself, he opened his eyes, once more facing the rather unwanted sight of nooses. One of those could've been easily slipped around his neck...
Turning with a rather frantic movement, he hurried down the hill going the direction he'd came from and headed off toward somewhere else once having reached the bottom. Again what time progressed around him escaped his recognition, it might've been mere minutes or it might've continued on over numerous hours. He found another several landmarks that, while not the graveyard he was seeking, likewise didn't possess the same deathly pallor that'd hung over those first places. Not finding the graveyard among the places outside he drifted over toward the Manor wondering how a graveyard could've been inside.
---
A blank expression of someone that didn't remember what should've been there hung across his face as he drifted into the courtyard from the Manor that encircled it. Rising as mere tatters that're unlike what must've been it's former glory, the structure caught his eye but his attention strayed with the first grave he'd seen drawing him toward the fenced-off area instead. When he moved beyond the fence more tombstones spread out until one grave after another made it become a vast field that faced him. What...would've brought me here of all places? His course drifting forward, certain about his course, went into stopping dead before the second tombstone and stared toward the words carved across it without discovering even one answer. This is... I came here... Who I am...
He groaned, clutching his head, as various thought flew through it unfinished because he couldn't remember what would've finished them. There should've been a chill around here too... Despite the confusion that weighed him down, he felt certain he was looking for something rather important, something he shouldn't have forgotten among those graves. Lowering his hands, he peered toward the tombstone beside him but the unfamiliar name he saw carved there made him shake his head. Since that wasn't the correct spot, he drifted onward, passing the next tombstone after he glanced toward the corresponding flower and name that belonged with it.
Soon he found himself becoming uncertain about which tombstones he'd checked, there were more extending out around him into what seemed an endless expanse. He couldn't determine anymore whether he'd accidentally doubled back on himself during the search at some point. If I knew what I was looking for it still wouldn't get me somewhere any faster, not when I've these countless tombstones surrounding me that need to be looked through. Then again it seems so strange that I can't remember what I'm doing. Was there some reason for this happening... His arm wrapped around his stomach area and startled him from his thoughts, that he hadn't expected that movement made it come across as instinctive.
Not one former thought remained once the realization he'd still been moving, pulled forward attached onto some subconscious string that didn't care much about what clambered through his head, sank in. A somewhat familiar sensation descended across his expression, a nervous shadow making him severely uncomfortable about having not noticed. He tossed one hesitant glance over his shoulder and disappointment slowed him further, permeating his forward momentum when none of the flowers accompanying the graves was familiar.
Questions about whether the aimless wandering had gotten him anywhere crossed his mind, tormenting him whenever he'd went passing another meaningless grave. There were many names dancing within his head but none seemed like what he sought, eventually the earlier ones blended together into some unintelligible mess after each new tombstone. Likewise he asked himself how much time he'd spent in looking around. Somewhere after the 50th grave the amount of time he'd been drifting among the stone slabs escaped him, his non-existent stomach rolled, being unnerved about how many had died here.
It took passing another 30ish graves before a familiar color came teasing across the corner of his eyes, making him look toward where it rested. Those yellow, but fingered, petals cast their brightness throughout the stagnant gloom that'd cloaked the grave within pure stillness, as dead as each previous grave. Seeing those familiar petals sent relief surging through him. Because he remembered that flower from somewhere, because that slight knowledge made the tombstone seem more alive despite it being made of stone, he drew nearer the grave with his eyes focused unwaveringly on the Rue. He dropped straight onto both knees beside the grave, reaching toward the Rue until his hands paused mere inches from the delicate petals.
This can't have been everything, can it? It is my flower. His gaze rose, breaking the fixation he'd shown toward the flower, and brought his attention onto the tombstone that'd been awaiting him. "Here lies Tor...Toris Laurinaitis." Abandoning the flower, his hand reached toward the name carved onto the tombstone then something tugged his arm downward before he could've touched it. Just as he shuddered there was a sudden, external force dragging him through the dirt.