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 Holly Golightly

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Posts : 18
Join date : 2011-04-18

PostSubject: Holly Golightly   Mon Apr 18, 2011 10:47 pm

Holly was born Abagail Brighton on a Western Isle near the Coral Appeligos. At the age of 8 her family was captured by pirates. Her fathe was killed while defending his family, and her and her mother sold into slavery. Mother and daughter were eventually seperated, leaving then then twelve year old Abagail clad in irons, bereft of her last known living relative, and sent to the south. Soon after, as he body began to develop, her form and beauty attracted the eye of the owner of a whore house. Seeing good money to be made, she was bought, and trained to 'please'.
She attempted to escape several times, the last bringing a final bit of retribution in her capture. Bound and gagged, she was...'twisted' by a creature: A Raksha perhaps, or some God paid enough. Things outside the whore house were taken away. Her life as a slave, her inner courage, her resistance to a new and overwhelming vice...One so useful for the life of a whore. But THey couldn't steal her sense of conviction. Perhaps a trade in kind, but though she had new memories beyond the world of sex and depravity around her, she knew they would never break her will again...
Throwing herself into her 'work' she learned to 'love' those who gave her their adoration. She honed her skills on the strage, attacting lovers to fill a void in her soul...to fill an overwhelming need...for a lover, for a father...
On her eighteenth birthday she was the star of the stage, and a favorite prostitute of the little whore house that was her world...the more she thought about it, the more she realized she couldn't remember ever leaving it. Her owner never let her leave. From the stage to the bed, to the stage again. She seemed so exhausted all the time. She needed the comfort of a man at night, and could never turn away the stage. But she seemed to lack the stamina that the other girls had. She needed to sleep so much. She must stay limber, but muscle would scare away the men she needed...wouldn't it? That's what her owner said. She always felt so weak, except when she was needed...and she woud be needed and they would need her.

One night soon after, she claimed illness. Though she acked for company, she wanted to see the world outside. Beyond the silk veils and satin sheets, had to be something more. They believed her illness. Though she could never lie convincingly...she didn't know why, all the other girls were so good at it. And they always said she was a horrible lier. But the owner was away, and she got sick often enough...maybe it was that horrible tea he gave her. "Wouldn't want you getting preganant" her owner said. Holly supposed that was true. But tonight, she'd get out, see things!

Slipping out a window that had taken her a month to wear open. It had been nailed shut as long as she could remember. She slipped out the balcony, and shimmied down a storm drain. The first smell of free air she could remember in her life. She smiled as she took to the streets. She had little to wear, but the clothes she wore for the stage. But people seemed to like it, they stared at her, and smiled. She smiled back, Holly loved the attention no matter the reason.

On the streets, she grew tired...and lost. Was the world so large Holly asked herself. She received some encouraging calls from men she passed, "Want some lovin honey?" or "Come get some baby", or things of that nature. It made Holly feel better. Men were always so nice. The women just glared meanly at her. Like the older whores when men put their attention toward Holly.
As it neared day, Holly found herself treking towards the outside of town. In the distance, an endless desert seemed to sit. The light shimmered off the sands, and the air rippled...and there was a man out there. A large man, with golden skin beckoning her. She knew she was tired, and thirsty, but something about this man demanded her attention. She walked further, into the sands.
An hour seemed to pass, as the sun beat down on her. Her skin would rinkle, her owner had told her that...but he never told her how beautiful the sun was. And as she walked, the man in the distance kept waving her forward. Demanding she put one foot in front of the other. She had to go, he told her in his demeanor. She had a destiny to fulfill. Though what destiny she might have, she had no idea. But there he was, ever in the distance. Ever demanding she keep going. She wouldn't stop now...not for the heat, not for the sands that blew against her. She was scared, but determined. Would she ever find her way home?

Hours more, and her lips were parched. The man seemed closer now for the first time. His countenance bore no intention of waiting. She had an appointment to keep. More important than thirst or hunger, or even weariness. He demanded she stand, and walk forward...

At last, just a few meters away, she saw something else in the sand...A boy. A child at the feet of the golden man. In the boys arms were curled a small figurine of glass. His lips seemed to move, parched and beaten by the sands. One name over and over again. SHe would take him from this place...She knew, as thirsty as she was, his thirst was greater. As weary as she was, his weariness was greater. He could do no more than whisper over and over again.

At that moment Certainty overtook her, and she looked up at the Golden man before her. "I AM SOL INVICTUS." he said, covered in glory. "YOU ARE MY CHOSEN. MINE IS THE GLORY TO QUENCH ALL THIRSTS. HAVE FAITH IN THAT GLORY, FOR IT IS REFLECTED IN YOU. STAND AGAINST THE DARK, AND BRING RIGHTOUSNESS TO THIS TATTERED AGE." he said. And his words bore into her soul.

In that moment, the thirst waned, for her spirit was filled with glory. The hole that was missing, was filled, and she had found the task to set her will upon. Picking up the child in the sand, she lifted him up, and carried him back to the city. Near death when she arrived, water was provided. The child had suffered heat stroke, but in time he would recover. Holly had a task to complete. To sate the thirsts of those that thirst for Glory, to bring Righteousness to a tattered age.

(To Be Continued)

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Posts : 18
Join date : 2011-04-18

PostSubject: Re: Holly Golightly   Sun May 01, 2011 5:27 pm

She couldn't go back, she didn't know why, but the thought of returning home
seemed abhorant to her. The family of the young boy gave her water...she was
thirsty wasn't she? Holly looked up at the woman giving her water. She took the
water happily, and as it passed her lips, she imagined having a family. A
mother, a father...'what would it be like?' she asked herself as she smiled at
the somewhat older woman. Life seemed to have worn lines into her face, but she
couldn't have been more than a six or seven years Holly's elder. When she took
the boy from Holly's arms, she suddenly felt a need for the closeness of

"I'm...where am I?" Holly asked, as the concerned mother of the boy she had
rescued, brought her a thin shawl, to keep the sun from her face. The boy, his
skin parched, and lips blistered from the heat, slowly drank water.
"Chariscuro..." the woman said, concerned. "How far did you travel?" the woman
asked looking concerned, at Holly's obviously parched lips, her weak physique,
and the sun bleached color of the night clothes she wore. There had been light,
Holly remembered, glorious light. It had bathed her for hours as she marched
through the desert...was her hair blonde now?

Holly's clothes seemed more colorful, even bleached as they were by the light
of the sun, than those of the people around her. They were her normal attire in
the whore house, and as hearty as set of clothes as she could come up with for
the night's travels. Fishnet stalkings, a tough velvet corset, and a thin silk
nighty over it. She had planned her night out for a while, in her head...she was
going to wear a nice set of high heels, but they had broken during one
exceptionally rough night of sex with a client.

"Thank you for saving Joro's life." the woman said, looking sincerely happy, and
thankfully at Holly. "My husband and I could never repay you." the mother said.

When pressed Holly couldn't quite remember which way she had come, only that
she had set out into the desert. The family was kind enough to take her in for a
day or two. It was long enough for Holly to try and earn enough money to make
her way, and to cover the costs of food, new clothes, and other necessities. She
seemed to remember things...strange things, memories flew at her in the night,
or at the climax of overwhelming passion. She was working a side street, taking
aside the more attractive john's that passed, when visions of a towering
mountain, covered with a city scape came to her mind. Meru...she remembered its
name was Meru. And it was her home once....something inside her told her that,
but it had been taken away, fouled, and usurped...

Holly shook her head, and then smiled at the John, before stepping away. When
she looked into the man's eyes, she didn't see any real affection...just some
dull emptyness, a longing for intimacy to fill a hole in his life. Holly
understood that feeling, had felt it until she was Choosen by the greatest of
the Gods...She knew that now without certainty. Though perhaps not a thirst for
righteousness, this man was filled with a need. Something that tore at him,
caused him to tear apart of himself away while trying to stop feeling the pain.
Holly could change that, she knew, if only she could somehow bond him to her in
some meaningful way.

As inspiration took her, Holly began to...preach to those she met. At first
it was simply a kind word of a better tomorrow to her Johns, but as money soon
ceased to be an issue, she found other ways to pass on her message. And she soon
learned that even the best of messages must sometimes be backed by willful
actions, and staunch reguard. It was when she had decided to travel the desert
once more. It had called to her one day, something had called to her. An
overwhelming need to help those calling out for assistance. It spoke like a
burning in her blood, like a whisper on the wind.

Three days into the desert, in white silk garb that breathed down to her bare
skin underneath, Holly felt she was weathering the heat and sand well. She had
long since gave up on trying to keep her more colorful clothing. The light that
suffused her always seemed to bleach it as if the sun itself had washed it for
weeks at a time. Though she had enough money to sustain her, she hadn't enough
to waste on constant redying of her clothes. Besides, white seemed to have fewer
stain problems with her chosen profession.

As the third day passed, she crossed a small atol in the desert. A small
outcropping of cliffs formed a semi circle, in which a set of tents and shacks
had gone up. Holly smiled as she watched, because when she checked the water in
her waterskin, it was empty...she knew she should have been concerned about that
earlier, but it somehow seemed not to matter. She'd find way, she knew that.
When she arrived the sun hung low in the sky. The wind blew sand against her,
and Holly knew it would end up in 'interesting' spots, to say the least.

The men of the little settlement came out to meet her, with spears and
longpoles in hand. The wind had whiped the white silk of her cloak free, causing
what was apparently a ghostly figure in the dusk light. Seeing her as being
'real', they gave her what amounted to a cold welcome, though a welcome still.
Holly was sure she could warm their attitudes. The men were hearty, broad
shouldered, and amazingly eager...if only with their weapons, at perceived
threats. Still, you work with what you're given.

The women and children of the village were nestled into one of the larger
tent. The children seemed to giggle at Holly as she removed one of the outer
layers of her clothes, her shawl, leaving only a thin wrapping of white silk
between the world and her bare flesh. It was hot, and Holly enjoyed the feel of
the breeze penetrating the cloth. One of the men brought her water, and was kind
enough to give her appreciative looks. It had been three days alone in the
desert, and it felt good to be wanted. Reaching up, she brushed his hand lightly
as she took the water from the young man, and watched his body come to the
ready. She smiled happily, only to feel some overwhelming disappointment as the
young man suddenly bolted away for some distant shack...By the God's why did
young men always try to frustrate her? Something insider her said it wasn't an
insult, that the young man was only overwhelmed...but what of her needs?
'...What of the need that called her here to begin with' the ever-constant voice
inside demanded harshly. Holly quickly composed herself. As she paid attention
now, she saw the first hints of a greater need.

As Holly looked around at the men and women, scared of the night around them, she frowned. Perhaps in some inner place, she imagined a village in need of her. But this was a fallacy that she quickly shamed herself with. These people had no need of her, they needed what she represented. They needed the glory of the Unconquered Sun, if only she could find out why...

"I..." Holly began, only to pause and look up at the desert sands. Figures slowly waded through the night. Men dressed in rags with swords, whose bodies reflected the moonlight dully, their skin a tone of corpselike palor. Looking to her side, she saw an old man crying, his hand dropping to his side. "Forgive me son..." the old man whispered. A couple of the women in the camp were crying, even as the men of the village armed themselves...and something snapped inside of Holly, at the thought of people being forced to cut down their loved ones.

"Stand back!" Holly said, her voice filled with a deep certainty. That burdgeoning of a personality that would watch her from the back of her mind stepped forward. With an iron hand it pushed her aside...was Holly crying?
Stepping into the desert sands, light erupted around her body. Stepping forward with hands empty but for the light that they could not contain, she lept past the armed men, into the windy night.

Her shawl whipped from her as she stood in the sands, the light of the unconquered sun a beacon in the night. "Be ready to return to the cycle of life and death." she said, as she crossed the desert sands. The armed undead layed into her, their swords and polearms crashing towards her, even as she returned blows. Her hands, infused with the potent essence of the Sun, easily turned the attacks that rained down upon her. Her hands struck the rotting flesh of the undead, tearing it and leaving a trail of holy fire in its path.

After several pulse wrenching moments that seemed to stretch into minutes, the hungry dead fell back from her blows, they seemed to regather themselves for a second attack. A near transparent figure, whose mouth was a gnashing of teeth, stepped forward. Armored in chain and pieces of plate mail, the corpsely figure shone in the moonlight. It's yellow eyes stared with intelligence and malice. It screamed as it pulled a sharp if shattered sword forward. As it moved, the moonlight highlighted the arrows the protruded from its back and side. At it's hollow howling, the undead line up and brought force upon Holly once again. She screamed...a howl of utter anguish and anger. For the natural order of creation to be so perversed was a sin against man, as well as the Unconquered Sun. In her bones, Holly knew this wouldn't stand. The man in the back of her head told her so.

Burning the essence in her body, Holly set loose upon the hungrey dead once more. She tore their limbs from their bodies, and tossed them with the force of her internal essence into the sands. She crippled them with her blows and strikes, using attacks she never knew she knew. But they were a part of her now. Some of the attacks she could dodge, but she knew better to waste her essence from such badly timed attacks. The cut through the cloth of her clothes, tearing the thin silk from her body as she wrenched deathly flesh from palid corpses that attacked her with vehmenant malice. Even as they fell, her clothes were ripped from her body, leaving only the burning light of her essence upon the field.

When the last of the hungry dead fell, the War Ghost, as the man in her mind told her it was, leaped towards her full of madness and anguish. Reaching deeply into her being, she pulled harder of the essence that filled her body. Power erupted as she slamed her hand into the ghost, shattering and burning it with her light. As the essence exploded outward from her, essence forged wings spun from her back. Wings of pure and brilliant white, tiped and tripped with Orichalcum spread outwards. She screamed like some terrible angel, as she slammed her open hands into the chest of the Ghost. It screamed, and disappated. It was gone for now, dispersed for the near future, the man in the back of her mind told her. She stood up, and with what essence remained to her, burned the bodies with a prayer to the Unconquered Sun. As the golden fires burned, she turned her eyes upon the small settlement and strode forward.

"You have called for the aid of the Unconquered Sun. It has been delivered to you." Holly said as she stepped forward into the settlement. "Fear not...for I bring righteousness to those that thirst for Glory." she said, the warm wind of the night beating off her bare exposed flesh. The last shreds of her garments were tattered at her feet. Grasping the thin silk shawl, she tossed around her nude form, which draped between flesh and esseence. "Listen...and find hope." she said, taking her seat...at that moment, Holly decided to sleep. The man in her head could finish this she thought, and she was so tired. As the voice continued on, like a chant, she slowly fell into sleep. Moments later she felt warm broad shoulders holding her. Someone had come to hold her. Wasn't that nice?

When she had woken, she was once more wrapped in her thin shawl. A couple of women stared at her as she awoke...Holly smiled at them, and they smiled back. In the days that followed she found a people both willing to listen to her, and happy for her company. She helped them carve away the stone, to create an alcove, A place for them to worship. She helped dig through limestone that blocked the way between a short set of tunnels carved into the cliffsides, and a naturally occuring aquaduct. A point where an underground river brushed the surface. The water would help these people, and they said she would always have a home with them...but she knew she had more work to do elsewhere. Taking her leave, after making a point to bed every available and unattached male in the settlement...quietly, no point in upsetting the uncaring women of the settlement who obviously held out on them. Holly then headed back the three days in the desert towards Chariscuro...she seemed to know the way this time, and could spot it from where the sand had been burned to glass.
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Holly Golightly
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