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Thread: Piper's Gallery.

  1. #1
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    Default Piper's Gallery.

    The Ravens Gallery!





    You step into a grand room arrayed in gold leaf and red velvet, lit by the warm flicker of candlelight. The glass-hooded candles stand atop furniture and hang cradled in sconces on the walls, doing their best to draw attention to the book cases and plush furniture, and away from the edges where cracks run through the plaster and spiders spin their cobwebs between the ceiling corners.

    Dominating the back wall are two vast portraits in scrimshawed frames, the oil paint shining in the candlelight. The pictures show RPA's most venerated figures: the admins G and Kris, both women casting a stern eye over the room below.

    In the centre of the room stands a writing desk with a skull-shaped paperweight, and atop the skull perches a raven, it's head cocked in your direction.

    "Well hello there."

    The deep voice echoes through the room and you presume from how the bird cracked its beak that the animal was the voice's source.

    Midnight feathers ruffle as vibrant eyes scan over you. "New victi...visitors to my study." Sharp talons drum against the skull. "Perhaps you can entertain me while my companions are gone. Pray tell, do you know any good tales?"

    The bird tilts forward towards you, its talons now hooking into the eye sockets of the skull. "No ordinary tales please. I like fresh tales…. Ones that have been conjured on the spot."

    One wing shoots out, a brilliant feather floats down to land atop the desk. "Please. Sit. Write me a tale… I'll even give you some inspiration…"

    The voice trails off as faint footsteps can be heard from outside the room. The bird lifts its head towards the door as the footsteps get louder and louder…

    Until a very strange looking woman crashes into the room, "Rav….Are you playing a game?" She asks as she drags in large gulps of air. The raven, now visibly annoyed, responds "Yes, I am… I was about to give my friend some creativity…."

    The woman interrupts and bounces on her feet as a grubby hand clings to the door frame. "Oh oh can I do it??" She asks feverishly. The raven narrows it's eyes before opening it's long curled beak to respond.

    Then you can hear it, the thunderous sound of hundreds of footsteps coming down the hallway. "YES YES, JUST DON'T LET THEM IN HERE" The bird screeches loudly and the woman grins triumphantly.

    "They're heeerrreeee!"

    The woman lets out a shrill cackle and slams the door shut behind her as the footstep stampede arrives. You hear grunts and snuffling noises before all goes quiet.

    The raven stretches out letting its feathers settle back from their ruffled state." That'll do I suppose. Write me a tale using that inspiration, I'm cannot wait to see what that mind of yours conjures up"


    A new inspiration will be gifted every 48 hours with a winner selected for each.

    Spoiler: Rules 


    The inspiration for Sunday 25th of October is :

    "They're here!"


  2. #2
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    Spoiler: Talismans & Turnips 

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

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    As hungry eyes gathered around to see the story teller who was about to write their tale, the hall fell silent. Eerie blood curdling scratches were heard against the window as the tree outside stretched its branches wide, as though trying to pull the window pane from where it sat so it could hear the tale. Beyond the walls, the wind had started to howl in anticipation and a rusty gate on its hinges had begun to creak and groan, wishing that it could get inside, but knew that it was tethered to its wooden post. "Alright." I began as I raised my eyebrows for emphasis and set about writing the tale that was to be told aloud so everyone could hear.

    "Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was very lonely. Every day she would sit alone by herself at school and try to ignore the taunts and chatter as people around her snickered over her appearance. They jeered and taunted, constantly pointing out every delicate feature she knew was flawed. Even her teachers would make remarks when they thought that she could not hear. The little girl was saddened by their lack of affection towards her, knowing that she was different from everyone else. For despite the fact that she dressed like everyone else, with beautiful dresses and hair tied in a bow, she knew she was different than the others. It was not their behavior that separated them from her, but her appearance instead. For instead of the soft squishy pink flesh that covered their invisible bones, she had a hard orange head with gentle looking solid black eyes and a wide grinning mouth. From her torso, two skeletal arms protruded from her body, attached to fully fleshed out hands. Her legs were partially fleshed in some areas, but revealed bones in other places. Unlike the other children, Pepo could not really run, or catch objects that were hurled at her. If something was thrown at her, her body would burst and she would have to pull herself together, which only increased the laughter she received from the other children.

    One day, Pepo decided that she had had enough of the taunting and constant torment she received. She decided that she would teach the other students a lesson about kindness and respect, because despite the fact that she looked different, she was fully alive, just like they were. She deserved to have friends, and deserved to be treated like everyone else, despite the fact that she did not appear as the other children did. No, she would be respected, feared even, and perhaps even liked by some. To others she would be seen as an enemy and maybe even a monster, but if Pepo could feel good about herself for once in her life, she would do whatever it took. So she took fate into her own hands..."

    With a wide grin on my face, I leaned back and let out a low sigh "and now, the fun part." I whispered to myself, enjoying the suspense that was eminent. The group that the woman had summoned leaned forward to hear the story better as their inhuman faces begged for more. They wanted me to continue, but I knew they would not receive it; not right away at any rate. I could see in each of their hollow eyes that they needed to know what Pepo would do. Was she going to kill someone? Would she try and make friends? That alone was my decision and as I gazed around the room, I could tell they were eager for more. "So dear raven, have I caught your attention just yet? I have not written for an audience before, but I do not mind. Writing is simply what I love to do, so after I refill my ink and relax my hands, I will continue on. But in the meantime, you may simply imagine..." I said in a small purr of a voice, enjoying the attention that I myself was receiving.

  4. #4
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    He leaning into her side, pressing along the plane of her back until his face was squished against the hair behind her ear. She could feel him trembling against her even with tremors of her own coursing through her body. "Go" he whispered harshly, voice strained, quaking with the same fear that had them both trembling. "Quick. Up the stairs." The breath he pulled in shook in her hair. "I'm right behind you."

    She pulled herself up off the bottom step and out from under his weight. Whatever comfort she had gained with his solid weight against her vanished as soon as there was any distance between them. Her legs felt like jello, refusing to take her weight right. Panic shot through her as she leaned heavily on the railing, desperate to move quickly without making much sound. They had to be quiet. They had to be-

    His hands found her waist and shoved her towards the top of the stairs. Her feet fumbled beneath her, thudding hard on the hollow stairs. The sound seemed to echo around them leaving her heart pounding in her chest. The desire to round on him and demand what the heck he was playing at was quickly snuffed out when she realized the echo was his thudding up the stairs right behind her.

    "Go, go, go!" he hissed. Her foot caught the lip of a stair but she barely noticed. Her hands released the railing in favor of pressing into the steps. She shoved at them, treating the whole thing like a ladder than the staircase it was. How he managed to reach the doorknob before her was beyond her. All she cared about was the door opening at his command.

    Except, it didn't. The two of them bodily slammed into the unyielding door and the shock lasted the length of the subsequent sound. Panic filled them both. She opened her mouth - whether to scream or to cry or to ask what they were to do next - but he pinned her to the wall with his body, a hand to her mouth. Pain flared at the back of her head; he hadn't been gentle, careful, not that she could blame him. Not when he choked into her ear, "They're here!"
    Find a tale or three or five to read but be warned. It is never easy to see where the plot may be going As the Story Crumbles

  5. #5
    The Replicant
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    Prompt #2

    "Some excellent ideas so far, don't you think, Rav?" says a voice.

    The raven lets out an indignant quork and bobs around on its skull perch to face the interruption. At some point while you were weaving your stories, a bony, waxy-skinned man has slunk into the room and lain down on one of the faded chaise lounges. He appears to be taking note of your tales in a leather-bound book. As you all turn, he offers you a soft smile.

    "Hello."



    "What are you doing down here?" the raven bristles, ruffling up its feathers. "Get back in the attic!"

    "I had some spare time." The man shrugs languidly and snaps his book shut, rising to his feet to appraise you all. "Well well, look at you all here. Future defenders and traitors alike, all waiting for your cue."

    As he turns his head to regard each of you in turn, the candle light pools in the lines of his face, making him look older, uglier. He folds his arms as he turns to look through one of the arched windows, his reflection a ghostly image on the dark glass.

    "I'm reminded of something another artificial human once said in an old film: I can't lie to you about your chances, but you have my sympathy."

    The hazy reflection makes it difficult to tell who among you he is looking at as he speaks, but you do catch a smile, and unlike the first one this smile is as cold as the glass it's projected on. As you watch, a flash of green un-light joins the candle gleam, and for a moment you see emerald sparks dancing in the eyes of the reflection. When the man turns towards you once more, both the smile and the green gleam are gone.

    "Oh dear," he says, unwinding a gold pocket watch from his waistcoat and examining the face. "Time runs away from us all once again. If you'll excuse me, I must get back to the attic."

    He moves with slow, spidery grace towards the door, pausing to run a bony finger down the raven's feathers as he passes the writing desk. The raven, unimpressed, just tries to peck at his hand.

    "Hmph." the bird says, ruffling its feathers again and casting its beady black gaze around the room as if these repeated interruptions are somehow your fault. "Well, I suppose that's as good an inspiration as any." It spreads its wings and flaps them in your direction, fanning the air impatiently. "On you go, on you go!"

    The inspiration for Tuesday 27th of October is :

    "I can't lie to you about your chances, but you have my sympathy."
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


  6. #6
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    My eyes flicker between the door through which the two unusual residents have passed and the raven sitting expectantly atop its skull. What an odd house.

    Spoiler: Trespassing & Tall Tales 

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

  7. #7
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    At first my eyes are fixed up on the man who has entered the room, perplexed with how ghastly but eerily handsome he might appear to some. Although he looked gaunt and like he hadn't had a proper meal in ages, there was something intriguing about him. When he left the room once more, I relaxed a little bit, only realizing I was tense when I ease myself back into the leather chair once more. I hear my body heave an audible sigh and I feel like a little bit of weight has been lifted from me. Once more I direct my attention to the eager crowd and the raven. "Well then... seems I have a bit more to add to my story now." I grin wide, thinking over the prompt that the man had just given me as ideas stirred in my head. Visions of my little ghastly pumpkin girl dance around as I begin to imagine all of the horrible things she will do. So once again I take the quiver and ink and in a slow and languid way, dip the nib into the ink and begin to write.

    "When Pepo set her mind to something, she really set her mind to it. She made sure that she committed fully to what she was doing and followed it to a t. The fact that she wanted revenge for the horrible things the students had done to her, did not bode well for everyone else. Those that had been the cruelest would receive horrible taunts and tricks back; some would even be scared enough to wet their pants. Others, who showed a little bit of empathy towards her would be given the same kindness she had received. If they laughed at her or pointed fingers, then she would simply make their lives miserable in a pleasant way, with some kind of strange gift. One boy that constantly taunted and teased her about her looks got a small surprise in his sandwich when Pepo not only stole his lunchbox to put worms around the sandwich, but added other creepy crawlies inside the sandwich. And there were a few who were incredibly nice despite the way that she looked, so she would be kind to them in turn. She gave them small treats that they would eat and enjoy as a kind way of saying thank you.

    On one adventure of mischief, Pepo had stirred up a hornet's nest, wrapped it in a bag and then released the hornets nest in the boys locker room, just setting it beside the door so she could make an easy get away. The boys screams delighted and excited her and made her want more. From simple innocent pranks, Pepo decided it was not enough. Her small little carved smile stretched into a wide grin of glee as she rigged a trap above one of the boy's bedroom doors and when he entered the room, he was sliced clean in half. No one knew how it had happened, simply that it had happened. With every passing day, Pepo's innocent little pranks became darker and darker. One boy who had thrown poor Pepo into a lake she threw into a massive tank of pigs blood, making the boy shriek and scream with disgust and humiliation. It no longer mattered to little Pepo if people saw her as demented or crazed; she was happy.

    Eventually she got bored with her games and returned to the gentle innocent Pepo that she had been before, but now people revered her. They never bothered her again after that." I finished off, being that I could honestly think of nothing more horrible to do to the poor children. I looked back at the Raven and made a face, shaking my head "I need more inspiration for dark and devious deeds. I am a creature of light... how am I supposed to write horror?" I asked softly, sighing deeply as I pondered long and hard what to write about.

    The raven just scoffed at me and let out a small caw before it flew over and landed on the desk in front of me. It gave me a look of pity then simply said in a saddened voice, "I can't lie about your chances, but you have my sympathy." It obviously meant that if I could not figure out what to write about next, then I would be doomed forever to be trapped in the room with it, or to simply fail at what I was trying to do. The onlookers seemed disappointed and when I stared at their disheartened faces, I felt my courage bolstering.

    "Very well then raven... I will try my best to continue to entertain." I smiled a little, getting nothing more than a simple nod as the raven flew back to the skull and buried its head beneath its wings in thought. I could not tell if it was trying to give me ideas or not, but it gave me a little bit of hope that perhaps... just perhaps, I could finish what I started.

  8. #8
    The Invisible One
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    Prompt #3

    The raven once again perks up, preparing to address the new stories, when it was once again interrupted, this time by a loud cackle. The source of the interruption is revealed as a slender, pale man exits the shadows in the corner of the room. "How long have you been there?" The raven caws. I didn't even notice you left your drawing room."

    The man approaches you as he answers the raven. "Heard the commotion. Had to join in." The man brushes his long blood-red hair out of his face. "Have an idea for your little game here." He begins pacing around the room. "Something is coming. No one will stand. Even the shadows run in fear." The man draws near to you once more, bringing his face inches away from yours.

    A moment passes as he stares into your eyes, then he breaks away and begins laughing again. "Yes, that is the inspiration this time. 'Even the shadows run in fear.' And indeed they shall." He continues his chilling laugh as he returns to the corner of the room he emerged from, his voice slowly fading away.

    When silence once again filled the room, the raven took the chance to speak up. "I suppose that will do." The bird again stretches it's wings out and caws, then returns to it's resting position. "Now then, if there will be no more interruptions." It gazes at you, awaiting your next story.

    The inspiration for Thursday 29th of October is :

    "Even the shadows run in fear."

  9. #9
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    The silence weighed heavily on them both as they waited. She strained to hear whatever it was that he had heard but she hadn’t needed to; the creak of the kitchen floor echoed through the basement and into the stairwell. The floorboards beyond the door gave a groan under the weight of someone passing by. There was a telling delay before the sound continued on.

    “Such misfortune for such young souls.”

    They both jumped, their attention snapping to the bottom of the stairs. The shadows of the basement hid it from sight but it looked like there was a cat sitting on the bottom step. It moved and he pressed into her more as fear drove them to back away from the thing’s movement. From one moment to the next, the thing was in their face revealing a shadow of a person with a haunted, tired gaze.

    "I can't lie to you about your chances, but you have my sympathy." The ghost – it had to be a ghost because if it was anything else, she didn’t know what it was – retreated back a bit before stepping around his back. She tracked it with her eyes, feeling him shift against her to keep the ghost in sight. “You aren’t the only poor soul to have gotten caught up in all of this.”

    He pulled back and her fear spiked when she realized what he was about to do. She brought her hands up to stop him but was too slow. He asked in a harsh whisper, “What do you mean? What are we caught up in?”



    The ghost grinned at them, the grin itself stretching unnaturally wide. He jolted. The foot holding his weight slipped and thudded onto the step beneath it. She clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the whimper that escaped.

    Either the silence was deafening or her heartbeat was too loud in her ears. She couldn’t make out the sounds of the house, couldn’t even hear him breathing against her if he was even breathing. They stayed there pressed against the stairwell wall for what felt like an eternity before she felt him start to relax.

    The door opened violently.

    Light flooded the stairwell and chased them down the stairs as he barreled head first towards the darkness of the basement holding tight to her hand to drag her with; even the shadows run in fear of whatever had shattered the darkness of the stairwell. He caught the last of the railing with his other hand and used it to make the tight corner, yanking her after him.

    She shouldn’t have looked back, she knew that, but he had grabbed her left hand and the turn had opened her up to the top of the stairs. Unintentionally her eyes snapped to the doorway full of light at the top of the stairs. Something stood in the light, a sharp dark outline of a form that she lost sight of as soon as she had caught sight of it. It didn’t tell her what had opened the door - didn’t tell her if they were against something human or something more. All it did was confirm they were being pursued.
    Find a tale or three or five to read but be warned. It is never easy to see where the plot may be going As the Story Crumbles

  10. #10
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    Spoiler: Terror & Tragitti 

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

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