With Good Intent
Aug. 18th, 2013 03:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
primordial_visitation in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
birthright_rpgIt began with a pulse... An echoing thrum of an ancient rhythm. Something causing the age-old veil between worlds to ripple, no matter how slightly, allowing resonance to flow from one realm's vibrational frequency to another. A glint of light sparkling out through a prism of that most curious thing... Life.
"...playback looks good..."
"...monitor isn't picking up any..."
"...on the Council, but..."
Voices being heard far off, attracting further attention. Voices on the other side. Something stirring; something moving closer, like some undersea beast investigating a lure in the deepest, darkest ocean.
"You sure this is the correct tone? What if it's not? What if it's a-a-an octave too-"
"Will you relax? Jesus, Steve... I had Linda run it through the system - it models perfectly. We've been over this a thousand times."
"Yeah, I... I know, it's just..."
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP
All conversation swiftly halted. Crystals being held in place by clamps, not twine - shaking for no discernible reason. No Earthly reason, at least. Monitoring gear sending its impatient electronic alarm in reception of... Something. A dot matrix printer loudly beginning to fire off its readings in staccato fashion.
And red... There was red... At first, an almost magnetic pull compelling incorporeal bulk onward and through. All too soon, the dimensional slipstream taking hold, urging it forth, like a plughole immersed in quicksand. At first, the strangeness of light, but then - yes - the red. A welcoming home of crimson, unwilling or unable to reject.
It didn't know where. It didn't know what. It only knew sanctuary.
To other eyes, what unravelled was a sight most chilling. Their proverbial bait had been not only taken, but snatched. The woman's body, formerly prone, now lifting suddenly, thrusting up by some invisible force and held aloft - just for a moment. Then suddenly lurching, from one side to the other, as if clutched by the unseen hand of an angry god. Body trying to slam up against ceiling, held in check only by chained restraints, only to be hurled straight back down, connecting against the floor with a loud THUD.
And then... Nothing. Electronics sparking. Those few bulbs which had escaped explosive destruction, providing dim light over what had unfolded. No voices now. Not for a while. Just a long pause and then...
"Fuck!"
It took several moments for the figures to gather their composure. One shouting to the other about protocol. The other retorting with how this defied protocol. That this had been more than expected. Different, somehow. That they must have missed something or that perhaps the translations had been off or...
"What do you mean, off?"
"I... Look, it's nothing. Just a... There was some phrasing which didn't match up - this was the only logical-"
"What do you mean... Off."
More determination, that time. Steve wasn't going to have his concerns hand-waved away. Not after that. A few others in the group now voicing their worries, too. A couple picking themselves off the floor with a look of sheer disbelief.
"Hey, I'm not the one who substituted-"
Noise. More specifically, the sound of something wet. Flesh and bone giving a mild thump, like a fish out of water slapping its tail, trying to breathe. A shoulder... Moving. All eyes casting down to where she laid. Their lure. Their bait.
Now the new home of something other.
"This... This isn't the inscription for... What the hell did you use for 'Slayer'? This is... I mean, it's generic for 'slayer', but it's..."
"What?"
But Linda's face was ashen as she looked up. Her head slowly turning back to something which should have remained unmoving. Looking on as it raised itself, unsteadily, to unfamiliar feet.
"Something else..."
A something which did not belong. A something which gazed at them through human eyes with deadly, seething contempt. A something now trapped against its will in man's domain.
"...playback looks good..."
"...monitor isn't picking up any..."
"...on the Council, but..."
Voices being heard far off, attracting further attention. Voices on the other side. Something stirring; something moving closer, like some undersea beast investigating a lure in the deepest, darkest ocean.
"You sure this is the correct tone? What if it's not? What if it's a-a-an octave too-"
"Will you relax? Jesus, Steve... I had Linda run it through the system - it models perfectly. We've been over this a thousand times."
"Yeah, I... I know, it's just..."
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP
All conversation swiftly halted. Crystals being held in place by clamps, not twine - shaking for no discernible reason. No Earthly reason, at least. Monitoring gear sending its impatient electronic alarm in reception of... Something. A dot matrix printer loudly beginning to fire off its readings in staccato fashion.
And red... There was red... At first, an almost magnetic pull compelling incorporeal bulk onward and through. All too soon, the dimensional slipstream taking hold, urging it forth, like a plughole immersed in quicksand. At first, the strangeness of light, but then - yes - the red. A welcoming home of crimson, unwilling or unable to reject.
It didn't know where. It didn't know what. It only knew sanctuary.
To other eyes, what unravelled was a sight most chilling. Their proverbial bait had been not only taken, but snatched. The woman's body, formerly prone, now lifting suddenly, thrusting up by some invisible force and held aloft - just for a moment. Then suddenly lurching, from one side to the other, as if clutched by the unseen hand of an angry god. Body trying to slam up against ceiling, held in check only by chained restraints, only to be hurled straight back down, connecting against the floor with a loud THUD.
And then... Nothing. Electronics sparking. Those few bulbs which had escaped explosive destruction, providing dim light over what had unfolded. No voices now. Not for a while. Just a long pause and then...
"Fuck!"
It took several moments for the figures to gather their composure. One shouting to the other about protocol. The other retorting with how this defied protocol. That this had been more than expected. Different, somehow. That they must have missed something or that perhaps the translations had been off or...
"What do you mean, off?"
"I... Look, it's nothing. Just a... There was some phrasing which didn't match up - this was the only logical-"
"What do you mean... Off."
More determination, that time. Steve wasn't going to have his concerns hand-waved away. Not after that. A few others in the group now voicing their worries, too. A couple picking themselves off the floor with a look of sheer disbelief.
"Hey, I'm not the one who substituted-"
Noise. More specifically, the sound of something wet. Flesh and bone giving a mild thump, like a fish out of water slapping its tail, trying to breathe. A shoulder... Moving. All eyes casting down to where she laid. Their lure. Their bait.
Now the new home of something other.
"This... This isn't the inscription for... What the hell did you use for 'Slayer'? This is... I mean, it's generic for 'slayer', but it's..."
"What?"
But Linda's face was ashen as she looked up. Her head slowly turning back to something which should have remained unmoving. Looking on as it raised itself, unsteadily, to unfamiliar feet.
"Something else..."
A something which did not belong. A something which gazed at them through human eyes with deadly, seething contempt. A something now trapped against its will in man's domain.