Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Nascence [1b]

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    Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Wed Feb 11, 2015 9:37 pm

    Week One



    Pain.

    It had become your best friend - your single confidant.

    From sunrise to sunset; if only you had been so lucky. Each day it had been the same, grueling routine: you were up before dawn, began training before the rest of the world even awoke, and retired long after the working class had left their jobs for the evening. Darkness was the first to greet you and the last to bid you good night.

    The first day had been a shock. You were clumsy and reluctant, feeling around as if you were blind and deaf. No rest, no pause; breaks were far and few in-between. It was a miracle that you had not perished on your first day, though you quickly wished that you had as the week progressed. Everything, from the top of your head and down to your toes, ached. Arms, legs, torso... They all felt as stiff as a board when you got up the next day, heavy and unwilling to budge. That didn't include how much your head throbbed or how miserable you felt inside, deep down where you were afraid to journey. Nevertheless, you went about the second day with as much gusto as you had on the first.

    Tears were your reward for persevering.

    On the third day, things had been no better. You woke up, lifelessly ate, and went through the motions. Physical, mental, spiritual, repeat. Over and over. Your body now felt as if it had been set on fire, muscles screaming for mercy. There was none, not even for yourself.

    Your mind was a mess. Every day at 1230 you were subject to relentless attack to relentless attack. Your doubts, your regrets, your fears... They were no more ugly than they were on the first day, vivid and painted with sickening detail. You soon forgot how many times you had cried, sobbing and wanting to lash out. Eventually, you forgot what it was to cry entirely; your puffy eyes could offer not a single drop more.

    It hurt.

    It hurt a lot.

    But still you marched on, despite feeling like a zombie. Week one had been hard and there were many a panicked thought racing within your disturbed mind, but you knew the risks. Hope filled the void and you told yourself that things would be better.

    That's what you said every night before bed, though the gnawing pit in your stomach knew otherwise.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Wed Feb 11, 2015 10:14 pm

    Week Two



    Anger.

    When things hadn't gotten better and hope failed, you turned to anger.

    How dare you face your doubts, your regrets, and your fears. How dare the ghosts of your past haunt you, dangled before your mind and used to further whittle down your soul. It was not fair, you told yourself. And it wasn't. You voiced this opinion every time. The reply had always been the same: life wasn't fair. This never failed to make you furious.

    You awoke each morning as expected, though your previously cheerful demeanour had become a shell of itself. You didn't want to speak, you didn't want to mingle. You simply wanted to spite. Every exercise you completed was done so mechanically; no eagerness, no pep. You weren't going to give any satisfaction. At times this was gratifying and at others you were chastised. Punishments had been liberally delegated and you accepted them with stoic determination. What was physical pain to the torments of a soul? You merely shoved everything upsetting beneath the rug and didn't so much as give it a passing thought. Why? It would only be used against you later, during tomorrow's session.

    And they were.

    Physical exercises were nothing, you began telling yourself. The easiest remedy for soothing weary muscles was a hot bath or shower at the end of each day. You could deal with the aches. But the mental? You broke down without fail, though you had managed to covet your tears. Would this ever end? It had been hard at first; Mr. Dark's fiendish eyes lingered in the back of your mind all throughout last week, but now their sway had begun to gradually fade. You were taught a simple technique to help ward off psychic attacks. It was nothing amazing, really. No hocus pocus or big, flashy special effects. All it required was a bit of creativity and a stable, peaceful mind. Imagine a white bubble enveloping you and concentrate on solidifying it; like a spherical fortress for you and you only. An easy enough instruction, but you already knew better. The technique was only as efficient as yourself, and with your current mindset the way it was... Disaster had been imminent. Your memory of Mr. Dark had not been as agonizing, and for that you were grateful, but that was all you had managed to achieve.

    The voices, Mary, Leslie - your protective bubble shattered as if it were made of glass, not the strongest element known to the Gamma. For the first time in five days you cried, shriveling into a despairing ball.

    Anger turned to sorrow, sorrow devolved into hatred.

    But to hate what, you wondered?

    Psychic trauma beget psychic healing. It had never once failed to bring you back to the precipice of sanity, though you could feel the tatters of your resolve fraying. Spiritual exercises were quickly becoming your favourite, along with the following hour of reading.

    Tired, you clung to your pillow and again told yourself that things would become better.

    You still had hope.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Wed Feb 11, 2015 11:03 pm

    Week Three



    Sorrow.

    Hatred was a funny, fickle thing.

    Each day was the same, repetitive struggle. You were worked to the bone and shown not an ounce of leniency. Food was bland, sun rays felt cold, and you cried yourself to sleep. It hadn't come easy and nightmares infiltrated your dreams. Many had been fleeting and unable to be recalled, but there was one in particular that troubled you.

    It started the same every time. You awoke in a meadow, not unlike the one in front of your cottage, and a forest loomed at its edge. Night had fallen and you were all, all alone... The air was bitter and cold, but not enough to cause discomfort. Never could you see into the darkness and there was always this unmistakeable sensation of dread. The air was saturated with it. Still you felt compelled to venture forward, hands brushing tree branches and scruffy bushes aside as you reached the forest treeline. Sometimes you could only manage several steps before waking up, and other times you had made it further within. Tonight belonged to the latter.

    Condensed air trailed from your nostrils, the evening sounds of nocturnal creatures filling your ears.

    But you continued, nevertheless. You continued, despite a few warning bells loudly chiming in the back of your mind. Turn back, turn back! No, you will not. Your feet lightly crunched against virgin earth and for some reason you felt compelled... to stop. It was quiet now. Deathly quiet. Where had the noises gone?

    "SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

    Danger, danger!

    Your mind at once exploded into a panic, limbs shaking. W-What was that? It had come from far away, but it was loud enough to be heard. Frightened, you ran. You ran back to the meadow and that is where the nightmare ended. Your eyes fluttered open and you gasped, a shiver zipping down your spine. That is when you noticed how damp your pillow was, along with your sheets and blanket. It would seem that you had accidentally defecated yourself and now you were lying in it.

    The nearby clock read 0436. Roughly less than an hour before you had to wake up.

    Looks like you were getting up early.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Mon Mar 02, 2015 5:26 am

    Week Four



    Numb.

    Everything else failed. Hope, anger, your tears... It was tempting to pray at the altar of indifference; to banish every conscious thought from the mind and only focus on the present task at hand. You missed a lot of details this way, but what did you care? So long as it got the job done, you couldn't be bothered to try an alternative coping mechanism. Your instructor naturally disapproved.

    Just as you had managed to survive the last three weeks of your training, he threw a curve ball. Things had changed. Things had changed immensely. What worked for you before had now become moot; no more could you pray to apathy. Pain filled the void, as did your anger. Desperate, you vocally asked for death and to simply give up. He refused, much to your growing aggravation. Why? Why refuse an easy kill? No matter how many times you insisted and wheedled for an answer, it was always the same: because he didn't feel like it. You were resigned to hold your tongue and just get through with your training.

    Things weren't so bleak as they seemed, however.

    You learned through trial and error. You learned that success did not happen in the span of a day, let alone three weeks. By making your mistakes and being shown the way to overcome them, gradually did you learn the path to enlightenment. It wasn't much and you knew it wouldn't be for a while. You were like a blind man who suddenly could see the beauty of the earth and sky. A crude sense was developing. You simply had to remain patient and finish your lessons. And no matter how irritating and cruel your instructor acted, he was with you every step of the way. He crushed you and uplifted you, never allowing you to quit and succumb to what came easily. Eventually, you came to accept this take-and-give approach. This wouldn't last forever, you told yourself. The pain, the weariness, the general feeling as if your head was filled with cotton... It was already week four, and that meant your were a quarter finished. That wasn't so bad, right? What was eight more weeks to an entire lifetime of potential benefit?

    That night, when you went to bed, you found yourself unable to cry. Not because your eyes were dry and you had no more tears to give, but because you felt, for once throughout these hellish weeks, that you could make it. No, not could... can. You can make it, and you weren't going to be alone.

    A sense of peace overtook your body as you lapsed into a restful sleep, the quiet clicking of your front door barely registering. It was probably the raccoons again.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Mon Mar 02, 2015 6:14 am

    Week Five



    Awake.

    An unfamiliar feeling stirred deep within your breast, eager to claw its way to the surface and emerge. You were simultaneously exhilarated and scared at the growing creature inside you. When you ran, it flew. When you screamed, it roared. And when you fell upon your knees and stopped to examine your wounds, it helped you arise twice as stronger. This beast was you.

    The fifth week had been no different than the fourth; you wisely played this to your advantage. Already you had adapted to your exercises, the bulging muscles underneath your emerald scales no stranger to exhaustion. They, like your hardening soul, had been conditioned throughout the four weeks prior. Running came easier to you, as did lifting whatever your instructor commanded. Weights, heavy pieces of detritus, sheep; it didn't matter. You lifted it all the same and never once asked to be killed. In fact, you grew to rather like breaking out into a sweat before the afternoon sun greeted the day. It felt as if you had accomplished so much in so little time. You felt good.

    And then came your mental exercises.

    These had been received with mixed feelings, at first. Last week you had sunk low; lower than you've ever gone. You weren't necessarily sure you wanted to experience this depression, but your instructor insisted. Always did he insist, slamming psychic blow after psychic blow against your own defenses. Unsurprisingly, you repeatedly failed.

    But that was fine, because you picked yourself back up and kept at it. And not only did you keep at it, but you found yourself asking for another go. This desire to overcome your mental demons startled you, but you found the beast stirring within your heart to be wanting. You failed and you learned, gradually inching step-by-step closer to obtaining a better understanding. It was through embracing your mental exercises that you were finally able to ward off the mental haunts of your instructor's attack. Rhys, Megamind, Kefka, Blade, Terra, and Harry... You accepted their words and allowed them to flow around you, like water in a tranquil stream. They hurt, yes. They had hurt a lot, but you told yourself one thing and one thing only: you remained. You continued to persevere and strive to become a better, stronger person. Had you made your mistakes? Yes, but no longer did you find yourself at fault. You were here, willingly embracing this struggle, and were determined to accomplish what many could only dream of.

    To change.

    Though you still couldn't manage to tune out Sonia and Leslie, or the vivid imagery of a nuclear holocaust, you took the smaller victories whenever you could. No longer did you falter at the sight of Mr. Dark or the others. No longer did you allow the past to hold you captive. It was... liberating. Your spiritual exercises reflected the calming waters beneath the surface of your thoughts, and soon... you would have the answer needed to unlock your full potential.

    This week had been full of surprises and that night, when you retired for the evening, you felt the happiest you had in weeks. The warmth of your animals lulled you into a soothing rest, where a single thought floated through the void.

    He remembered that you liked yellow tulips.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Mon Mar 02, 2015 6:59 am

    Week Six



    Muladhara.

    The root of the soul - or so your instructor said.

    It didn't make sense to you in the beginning, admittedly. How can a soul have a root? But the more you stopped to consider these words and reflect, however, the more you slowly began to realize: everything you had experienced thus far, from week one and onwards, had been for this moment. The moment where your body, mind, and spirit were starting to harmonize with each other. You had by no means achieved cosmic oneness with the universe, but you had developed a greater appreciation for both yourself and the limited world around you.

    Every shudder of your breath during your physical training laid the foundation for your body to push itself harder. Every dark thought that troubled you paved the stepping stones necessary to approach them. Every time your soul ached, your existence questioned... you bloomed.

    Things were beginning to change; a dormant flower budding to welcome the spring.

    With this rediscovered confidence in yourself and a desire to embrace, week six flew like a gentle breeze. You hungered for a challenge; something to once again pit you against strife. You hungered for more lessons; your shielding technique was now several layers thick and strong. Ah, but patience... Everything must happen in due time and not a second sooner. It had, after all, taken you six weeks to appreciate your growth and his instruction. Though there was... something. A recurring visitor that puzzled you. Whereas the waking world was becoming more and more promising by the day, your dreams were few and far between. Nightmares plagued your mind. Or, rather, a nightmare. You weren't sure what to make of this... thing. This thing that has been bothersome since week one.

    Again, you were in a meadow. And again you had traversed the darkened forest to only experience a harrowing shriek. During the previous weeks when you hadn't been as strong, you could hardly manage a few steps before waking up in a panic. Now, however...

    Now you boldly crossed these ominous woods and you did so with conviction.

    "SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

    Ah, there it was.

    You didn't flinch and kept pressing forward, the soles of your feet lightly crunching against earth and grass. What could make such an ungodly wail? It was no animal you had ever heard, though your knowledge of fauna was rusty. As you brushed aside low-sweeping branches and trudged ahead, your eyes caught sight of a... cave. Shivers raced down your spine, fear entrenching itself deeper into your resolve.

    A black entrance greeted you; nothing could be seen inside, not even with the bright moonlight shining from above. Large and incredibly foreboding, you found this discovery... unsettling.

    Could the source of all this yowling be coming from there?

    This was the farthest you had gone. Surely you couldn't back out now, could you? Your mind tried to rationalize the options before you. If you leaved, you wouldn't see what the fuss was about; however, you'd also be safe. If you entered, your curiosity would be sated; however, you'd also be imperiled. Decisions, decisions... All internal conflict drew to a startled close as a low, raspy moan of stale air whispered past you. Ah... it must have come from the cave. Those sorts of things were filled with... uncomfortable stuff, right? Right... You tapped your fingers anxiously and glanced around. Well, fortune did favour the bold... Your mind set and your feet disgruntled, you bravely tiptoed toward the cave and... entered. Darkness swallowed you alive and all of your senses became useless. A pity, because as you reached out to grip a nearby cave wall and find your bearings... something roughly lashed out against stone. Metal struck metal and a deep growl sounded before you.

    That was the extent of your nightmare before you woke up, eyes flashing open. Gasping, you sharply rose out of bed and noticed the time: 0436. Always 0436... Seems you had another early day ahead of you. Best to practice your shielding technique and hone the senses.

    There was no way you were going back to sleep.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Tue Mar 31, 2015 6:42 pm

    Week Seven



    Svadhisthana.

    The wellspring of desire - or so your instructor said.

    Lust, greed, passion; all underlying symptoms of a greater illness: emptiness. It was hard, wasn't it? It was hard to live without fulfillment, without satisfaction. Loneliness, vulnerability, abandonment... Such devils were easily overpowered by the abundance of friends and power, were they not? Ah, but you knew better... Once had you surrounded yourself with companions, by so-called "friends" that would never leave your side. Their promises were as empty as the gap left in your soul. Once had you tasted power, its allure bittersweet and euphoric. Alas, it had brought you nothing but ruin and the further decimation of fraying bonds. Gone were those friends... Gone was that power... You had only your lonely, weak self. Or... did you?

    Too long had you looked to others for strength, dependent on their company and support, when you had only to seek within. Did they see you through your training? Did they help you rise out of bed each morning, encouraging you to face another day of hardship? Did they comfort you when tears could not? No, for you had yourself; a broken husk of an alien looking to mend the impurities of his damaged soul. Isolation became a staple of your everyday life, your powerlessness in all things an undisputed fact. You feared them not, however.

    Solitude wizened your weary spirit as the exercises hardened your mortal shell. Already you had become stronger and found your thirst for wants dwindling. You were enough, you thought. Everything you needed was right here and always had been. Why yearn for delights that were well beyond your limitations and control?

    Tired that evening, you slipped away into slumber and felt twice the person you were all those weeks ago.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Tue Mar 31, 2015 8:03 pm

    Week Eight



    Manipura.

    The power to shape reality - or so your instructor said.

    Shame and hubris were parasites of the ego, gnawing at the foundation of the self. Nevertheless, you fought hard to keep the leeches at bay. Through daily chores and a continuous effort on your behalf to discourage the ghosts of old, the foundation of the self was as impenetrable as any loving heart. You had power, yes. But not the power of kings and gods. You had the power of choice, the power to weave your own destiny. Strength lied not in the trunk of the body or in the thickness of one's muscles; no matter how strong you may be, mentally and physically, each day was as trying as the last. No, you realized. True power came from the respect of oneself and one's world - of the ability to remain humble and appreciative. As biting as their words had been, they were nothing more than such: words. The dying gasps of your panicking regrets.

    No one will define you, let alone their acidic thoughts made manifest. You knew of your shame and guilt, you knew of their ramifications, but still you welcomed them beside your hearth, your soul, as if they were good friends. Were they not as every much a part of you as you were them? Friend and foe, lover and distant memory; there were infinite possibilities with forgiveness. A newly-found energy revitalized your weary bones and aching muscles as you went about your daily tasks. A dynamo that had lied buried underneath self-loathing. With its power and your heightened awareness of both the self and the world, you shaped your future as you saw fit.

    You, and only you, had the responsibility of defining it.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Wed Apr 01, 2015 3:05 am

    Week Nine



    Anahata.

    The beauty of a loving heart - or so your instructor said.

    There was a saying amongst the people of Earth: it is better to have loved than to have never loved at all. But was this necessarily true? You, for example, had loved. You had loved many, yet seldom returned the affection. Whatever happened to dear, dear Leslie... Or your friendly bonded, Terra? Where was Blade? ...Potter and 5? Where had all your precious friends gone? Oblivion, is the answer. They left everyone else behind, where you had to pick up the broken pieces. How did that make you feel?

    In the absence of love blooms hatred; resentment for those who dare to proclaim their hideous mockery that is selfish love. But to hate... Ah, to truly hate... Hatred is a fire in the palm of a naive man, thinking himself lord and master of its searing flame. One can no sooner tame a wildfire than one can bag the western wind, yet this does not stop the man from sending its cinders upon his enemies. Eager is this flame, this passionate spark. It feasts on whomever the man desires and always yearns for more. More, more, more. More kindling, more coals. More, more, more. Never once does it tire, never once does it disobey. It is a good companion, a faithful ally when all is bleak. After all, does not fire bring about warmth and light to banish the devils of frost and darkness away? But as the man retires and closes his eyes, for the moment content with his fire's obedience, he loses sight of its eternal hunger. Complacency breeds ruin. Gone are his enemies, yet the fire still craves. It will not rest until its appetite has been satisfied, and so it turns upon its caretaker. The first to be consumed are the man's loved ones; friend or foe, the flame shall covet the taste of burning flesh all the same. And then, once it has taken from the man everything, it devours him as well. There is nothing else to strive for. No family, no friends, and no purpose; the man throws himself willingly into the fire and withers away into ash. The fire, meanwhile, dislodges from the man's breast and roars through the sea of strife and despair the man had caused, all in a delightful effort to consume another ignorant host.

    Are you this man? This keeper of the destructive flame?

    Suppose, then, that you are. Your hatred for the Megaminds and Ridleys of the world burns at your very core. You wish to crush them, to annihilate them. To whittle them away into dust so that others may never become intimate with the pain you have suffered. That others have suffered. And indeed, you could. You had the power, the means. You could devout your entire life's purpose to the eradication of those who sought to harm your cherished loved ones. But what would you seek to gain? You would not be able to live in your cottage. You would not be able to oversee your animals. You would not be able to maintain a steady job in the city, nor would you be able to enjoy regular visits to the Sanctuary. You would be a different man, a soul hellbent on achieving an end goal. You would be... him. Passion, no matter how seemingly righteous, was a sibling hatred knew quite well.

    You were not this man. You may harbour dark thoughts and think to entertain them with meager scraps, but you were no more skilled to wield hatred than you were to command fear itself. You were, alas, a small alien with big ideas and a big heart. There was nothing creative about fire. It simply purged all who foolishly stood before it.

    Troubled, you fell asleep that night with an uncertain mind. Could you honestly forgive them?
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Thu Jul 02, 2015 2:05 pm

    Week Ten



    Vishuddha.

    The freedom of expression - or so your instructor said.

    There was something to be admired when one was truthful and liberated of prejudices; to remain honest to oneself and reject hungry lies. Though you and your instructor differed in terms of belief and approach, never once did you compromise yourself to kowtow to his views. In that, you had gained respect; a pity it carried little weight, your daily chores progressively becoming harder and harder. Nevertheless, you succeeded all the same. But if you were to become successful... then he was to gradually sink into a role of insignificance.

    Ten weeks had passed; an entire seventy days of grueling hardship and continuous exhaustion. It had felt like an eternity of anguish to your soul, but you knew better. Ten weeks was nothing, but it was enough for growth and learning. A tree, after all, does not mature in a single day. However, there was something on your mind. A new thought that, although calmer than its more turbulent cousins, was as equally disquieting: your instructor was tired. Tired and steadily becoming more obsolete by the day. How much had you learned in these ten paltry weeks? Enough to stand up for yourself, enough to value your own person, and enough to at last realize the potential you possessed. By now, you had already learned all the tricks of the trade; conducting your exercises without oversight was as easy as breathing, and your chores? You need only take a studious look around and determine what needed to be done. Even the mental exercises could now be replicated, your resolve no longer prone to relying on cowardice. You were becoming your own instructor at the expense of the one you already had.

    But this was surely the point, wasn't it? It stood within reason to believe that you could not have one all throughout your life. How would you apply what you have learned? How would you discover things for yourself? How would you continue to grow? It was... sad, you thought. Sad, because you had come to enjoy a presence you had taken for granted.

    A lesson came to mind - nothing lasts forever. The world is gridlocked in a state of impermanence.

    As you finished your daily assessment and grooming, slipping into bed with your animals, you finally realized just what those words meant. This, all of this, will soon be coming to an end. And whereas once before you would have been overjoyed to be freed of this demanding routine, control over your life again absolute, you now felt... lost. You knew better than to lie to yourself, but now was hardly the time to contemplate this ordeal further. Taking a deep breath and rolling onto a side, you closed your eyes and focused on rest. Two more weeks was still two more weeks.
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    Re: Nascence [1b]

    Post by Fear on Thu Jul 02, 2015 10:18 pm

    Week Eleven



    Ajna.

    The eye of intuition - or so your instructor said.

    Your rebirth was nearly complete. One more week, you told yourself, one more week. It had all happened so fast, weeks one - ten almost a dizzying blur. It was almost a shock. Nevertheless, you kept a well-maintained handle on yourself and went about your duties as if it were the very first day, the knowledge and experience you had accumulated granting you refreshing clarity. Things were surprisingly... easy. Easy, though quiet. You no longer minded, however, and instead kept your thoughts focused on whatever challenges you set for yourself. The days moved faster when you did.

    With the gradual lessening of your stress and denial, week eleven was by far the smoothest week imaginable. You wondered... what would week twelve be like? It was impossible to know for now, so you figured to make better use of your time by staying in the here and now. There was little else captivating your interest this week, not even a worthwhile struggle to remember, and soon the night beckoned you to slumber.

    An uneventful day for a rather uneventful week. For the first time in the longest while, things felt normal.

    You weren't sure if you were ready.

      Current date/time is Tue Oct 17, 2017 9:11 am