Pet Name: Worm
Owner: Apache
Theme / Type: Phantom Draklaita
Born: June 5, 2012
Gender: Female
MisticPal Name: Stealth
MisticPal Age: 4019 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Level: 1
Hit Points: 16 / 16
Strength: 16
Defense: 0
Speed: 18
Intellect: 10
Misticpower: 1
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
Books Read
Books Read:
None
Footprints in the snow. Breath on the window.
A laugh in the shadows, muffled and faint.
And suddenly...
Your pants are gone!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Oh, that's quite a nice pocket watch you have there. Is it valuable?"
ID No. 36F
Worm; "a human being who is an object of contempt, loathing, or pity"
unrestrained || evasive || confident || selfish
"The Pale Thief"
The first thing one might notice about Worm, is, well, that she isn't very noticeable at all. She does not let herself stick out. She it contained. She is usual.
And one might never realize that that's exactly the way she wants it. For you see, Worm makes a living off of others, like a leech, a parasite. She takes what she likes and bears no remorse. She, though she does not dwell on it much or consider this a particularly unusual point of view, does not believe in the concept of possession. Items are individual things, if it is not a part of you, you can not own it.
Worm feels great pride in her abilities. She has the power to fade, to disappear, to "phase", if you will. In this state it is almost as if she does not exist at all. She carries no shadow, no reflection. Even the sounds she may cause, though still there, are quite muted. She can enter this state at will, but sometimes it may activate preemptively if she is in a stressful or embarrassing situation.
Before she came into her gift she was a thief, and a thief she will always be. She will steal anything, and in fact, steals excessively. She has never payed heed to those around her, never cared for them, never worried over them. She takes what she pleases, regardless of who it is from or how desperately they may need it. She does not create ties or do favors, nor will she act on a dare or bribe.
Worm is a pushy, head-strong individual when observed in a neutral setting, though such a setting may be hard to come by. She has a jaunty, devil-may-care attitude about her, and when she really feels at ease, cracks jokes like a whip. She has even played pranks, though when prompted she insists it is beneath her talents; in reality, she plots when she can.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Single digits
mask the creatures
cloaked in white, dancing figures
long and short, fast and slow
all things crafty
slimy
sneaky
not quite there,
not quite gone,
breathing
talking
shifting
eating,
living in the corner of your eye.
-----------~-~-~----------~~-~-~-~~----------~-~-~-----------
"Come back here, you slimy little worm!"
Heh, 'worm', that's a new one, she mused silently as she bolted off with her prize. The man she had robbed was quite angry, but unfortunately he was rather large, and she swift and young. Soon she was quite out of danger. When she turned a corner she slowed her pace, appearing casual and at ease. She swung the small, though unusually heavy, sack back and forth, not bothering to suppress the glow she usually felt after a successful grab.
And anyway, she concluded, if it's cursed why would he have wanted to buy it? Surely it would only bring him misfortune. I have done him a favor.
She had listened in as the vendor and his client spoke. They didn't give too much away, and she was unable to get too close as they were very intent on being discreet, unfortunately, but what they did reveal had made her... greedy.
... Magical properties... Ancient relic created by a race long extinct... One of kind... Extremely valuable...
And of course, cursed.
Hah, she laughed, as if anyone would believe such things anyway.
At this point her feet had carried her far away from the market and into more familiar territory. She had wandered home, into a beautiful and lush forest. Discreetly marked trails led her back to her hole, though by this point in her life she could have returned without the markers.
The entrance was covered in foliage. None but her would have noticed, and in any case rarely anyone went this far off the beaten path. Out of habit she thumped her foot on the ground twice, and as always it echoed back at her, revealing the open crawlspace beneath. She bent and opened the hidden clasp, and drew it open, old hinges and wood groaning with the effort.
In no time she had slipped inside, secured the latch, worked the small boulder revealing an even smaller tunnel, and begun the long descending crawl on her hands and knees.
Before her opened a vast and dripping cavern, a beautiful and sacred place that she had made her home. It had been crafted by an unnatural force, and it showed. There were intricate carvings in the walls, but more importantly, passageways. Rooms. Space. And beautiful, unusual architecture and art wherever you went. This earth had been opened up by some ancient hands long ago and transformed to bear their people. But it was empty now. Save for her.
She stretched out her legs and made her way passed into a smaller tunnel, this one with a deep channel of water flowing beside her path. She lay a hand on the wall for guidance, and because the floor was slippery, and at last came to a secondary, but no less vast, cavern.
This one she enjoyed more than the last, though it bore the marks of time more heavily, as this area was open to the sky.
She did not keep her things in this section, for fear of flooding. Anticipating this, she had grabbed a lantern from the base cavern that she always kept there, specifically for lighting in this cavern. She favored this particular place for what she was about to do: examine her prize.
She lit the lantern and sat cross-legged with the sack in her lap. With unnecessary finesse she slipped the smooth, perfectly spherical object from its prison, and into her waiting, eager hands.
It was milky-white, cloudy, and opaque. It was large enough to need two hands to hold, but was not too large besides. Quite beautiful. A well crafted stone. But...
"Well, look at you," she murmured to herself, turning the stone over and over, inspecting for any imperfections and finding none. She sighed, a little disappointed, and tapped its side with one finger. "I just thought you'd be more impressive."
"Oh?" She exclaimed, spying movement. She raised it to one eye and took a long look, but ended up lowering it quickly, annoyed at herself. "It was nothing of course."
She took a long, deep, relaxing breath, suddenly tired after her long afternoon. She set the ball down beside her.
And it promptly rolled away.
"Hey!" She jumped up, at first laughing a little and tripping after it. Fortunately it was in no hurry to get away. She caught up to it quickly and snatched it back up.
As she turned to go back to her spot near the lantern, an odd and chilling realization clawed its way up her spine.
It had rolled uphill.
She rolled a cautious eye towards the thing in her hands, half ready to drop it where she stood.
A small flicker broke the stillness inside of it, and for a moment she saw one narrow, slit eye, staring back at her.
So she did drop it. It broke, shattering like glass, riddling the ground with hundreds of small milky stone pieces.
And nothing happened.
She stood still, breathing hard breaths a long while. She waited and waited.
But nothing happened. There was no wind. Nothing flickered, nothing moved. It was as if the world stood completely still, holding its breath, just as she did.
Finally, she exhaled and started to laugh. Look at how scared I am! This is ridiculous!
The sound of her own laughter echoing in the cave pulled her back to reality and steeled her.
With a sad grin on her face she bowed at the fragments, throwing one hand out extravagantly, mocking her own fear.
"It's a pity, you were a fine thing. Well, I guess you were. We'll never quite know, will we?"
Age must have made it brittle... Yes, that's it.
She walked, a little more briskly than normal, back up the walkway and out of the cavern, carrying the lantern with her. She left the pieces of the orb where they lay.
She could ignore what she had seen -- no, thought she had seen -- for the vision of the eye had been quick, fleeting. She could easily reason it away.
But it would not be long before she would become aware of other occurrences. Ones she could not run away from.
For the light of the lantern cast no shadow from her. And when it shined on the stream, the water bore no reflection, save of the lantern itself.
As if she was not there, as if light passed through her.
But she did not notice these things of yet, and as she walked the pathway, she repeated, at the back of her mind, a quiet but constant mantra:
I do not believe in magic. I do not believe in magic.
I do not believe in magic.
~
Worm belongs to Apache.
Boxed Phantom on 12/23/13!
[Adopted from the pound as a Northern Zisscor]
Hero says I smiled to see this message. I'm glad she found a great home - I love what you've done with her! =) So thank YOU for adopting her; you've done far more with her than I had managed when I owned for, and that's what I was hoping for.
|
Hero says Hello! Worm was one of my companions, but we thought he might prefer to go off and find his own home. Thanks for adopting him! =)
|
All Comments
Pet Collections
Collection Limit: 4
This pet has no collections.