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foggycuriosities · 5 months

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(closed starter for @vigos-journal Happy one year!)

He couldn’t stop moving his body and mind driven by a fever as he adjusted to being….back…back here in the woods that he left what felt like an eternity ago. He saw flashes of ghost memories reconnecting and resurfacing dancing over his vision confusing him as panic filled his chest. He smiled widely seeing an old friend her wild hair was unmistakable. “Nikki oh gosh it’s me I’m ba-” When he reached out the illusion was broken the image of his friend dissipated he pressed his hands to his eyes blocking his vision making lights appear from behind his lids from the force he was pressing against them almost painful.

“Gods Baker! Get yourself together….you need to calm down you need to find the fire and find someone real! The fire the fire remember the fire…”

Baker took a shaky anxiety-driven breath as he stood back up and with a panic stride he began pushing through the brush ignoring the path letting his broken mind lead him ignoring the foggy memories that invaded his vision. Whisps of old friends and foes danced in the shadows as he became more panicked and overwhelmed trying to cope with the fact he’s managed to find his way back here. What does that mean for him? Is this even real? Has he finally lost his mind? Is he dying? Are these just flashes before death before the void consumes you?

It can’t be….no he must find the fire or the- his soul froze. His mind and body came to a screeching halt as he looked at a place all too familiar the lab. A place he knew better than any campsite or realm here in the fog. He was frozen for all but a few moments as he made a mad dash to the building which seemed a little worse for wear….He fumbled with the door knob before he finally turned it the right way a miracle it was unlocked and he burst in.

The place was as messy as it ever was if not even more so. He inhaled the air as the familiar scent of chemicals and paper filled his nose a comforting scent that eased his mind ever so slightly. Yes. This was real but the shadows of the lab danced just as they did in the fog slowly replaying memories foggy shadows of him and….Vigo working together in the lab, joking, and eating what scraps they’ve found. Baker turned wildly grasping at the shadows begging for any of them to be real as tears filled his eyes staining his face as his throat closed with panicked breathing. Papers and notes flew about as he chased these illusions of past experiences waiting for any of them to be real.

“Please please! I’m back where are you please! I’m so sorry! I just need to touc-”

He heard the door slam open and he whipped around his eyes wide showing nothing but pure panic as he laid eyes on…him! Baker rubbed his eyes to make the shadows stopped to see him as he was. How their white streaks have gotten bigger their clothes have changed drastically too but..he could tell this was real. Baker reached out instinctively for a moment before retreating back anxiously clutching the pendent at his neck.

“V-vigo? Giovanni?”

He didn’t know what else to say his mind stuttering trying to follow a million different train tracks of thoughts. That are all colliding at once creating a devastating wreckage. hHe whipped at the tears in his eyes to clear his vision even better.

“Is that you?”

#rp reply #vigos journal #benedict baker

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foggycuriosities · 6 months

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All Return To The Fire

A little fic I wrote for my Benedict Baker muse and his return to the trials! I haven't written something for others to read in a long time and this was a destresser and practice so it's polished but not perfectly you may see a smudge here and there!

The strange figure walked through the cool fog eyes glazed over as he continued to mumble strings of sentences with no meaning. Only to him did they make any true sense and did it really matter if anyone else could understand him? No one was around….no one has been around in a long time. Not anyone who could talk to him at least. Oh well, he did run into that odd tattoo fellow a few…days? No Years. It’s been about….2? 4? 100? He didn’t really remember but he didn’t really care. The glazed-eyed man was covered in ice-like spikes that grew on his clothes only his clothes oddly enough. They clung to his thick worn leather boots and wrapped up legs and cloak. Some even grew on the staff he was using as support on the uneven rocky ground. He huffed waving his hand in slight annoyance as whispers only heard by him clung to his mind. He clutched a strange eye-like device he discovered forever ago and breathed a sigh of relief as his eyes slightly sparked back to life. “There we go…you pesky things can’t cloud my mind for too long! My dear swarming friend you must give me space at times.”

The fog around him swirled slightly as if it was responding to his words as a circle of about three feet surrounded him with no fog to be seen and he smiled as he reached into his pocket pulling out an odd-looking nut. Or seed perhaps? One could not tell as he flicked it into the fog. It was still for a moment before a slight ringing noise could be heard which caused the man to flinch slightly but he still held a smile as the white fog around him swirled and danced.

Slowly he began to walk straighter his eyes becoming clearer and his mind much more like itself. That was when he noticed the spikes oh so dangerously close to his hand on the staff he used. With a surge of panic, he wrapped his hand in a scrapped pink pattern fabric that hung on him and began knocking off the spikes on his clothes and staff. The fog came closer to him almost as if it was…worried? To an outside source, this would be a very odd “exchange” indeed. The man sighed as he brushed his long ratty hair just in case some ice was tangled in there as well.

“My friend…well friends I suppose it’s getting dangerous where you lead me….my mind has been getting lost more and more…. And I haven’t been able to find any of my medicine here. I only find….” The man stopped walking as a ghostly thin hand covered in the same glowing ice that clung to him just a few moments ago poked out from the fog near his feet. He swallowed clutching the pendant tighter as he turned in a different direction not wanting to know what was attached to it. The fog swirled back around him clinging to his skin almost as he tried to focus on his fleeting thoughts. “....You’ve been leading me through what I can only assume is the void or parts near it from what I've seen and interacted with. It’s been…ravaging my mind and memory at a much more dangerous point I can’t. I can’t tell what are my thoughts or the memories of the dead around me. I’m slowly becoming….lost in these memories no longer can I really think as I used to I feel like a husk more and more an object to hold and collect these fragmented memories. I fear one day I won’t be able to leave here even with your protection…as well as the use of this device. My friends, I think our closeness may be..hurting me more than helping me at this point. “ The fog grew colder and thicker and the man reached a hand out almost as if he was petting it like an animal. “Please….I must….” The man bit his lip harshly as the fog went still it’s almost as if he was just standing in a pure white room at this point like an unused canvas. “......No I can’t. I need to leave this place but….I can’t go back I know that much.” The man suddenly hissed as odd noises and static filled his head he fell to his knees as if in pain as voices both whispers and screams echoed through his head. In multiple languages lost to time and yet to exist but he managed to still understand.

“It’s true….You shouldn’t stay here much longer. You’re…interesting Mister B. We will lead you away from this place and if your resolve is strong you’ll end up somewhere exciting!” The voice went away and the strange man took a loud breath gasping as if he just resurfaced from icey water. He looked down at his hands and realized his nose was bleeding he quickly whipped the blood up and stood up. Fear filled his heart momentarily as the fog seemed to clear up showing the twisted landscape filled with black trees knarled bark with screaming faces throughout and an odd pale glow covered the land. As an odd black tar seeped and flowed in odd directions to nowhere. He tried his best to gloss over the scraps of flesh and bodies sticking from the tar. Swallowing he gripped his staff tightly and began walking to try and leave the gorey scene but no matter where he turned it was all the same….this wasteland of tar and bodies.

It wasn’t long until his mind began to fade again as memories not his own began to swirl and overtake his vulnerable mind. He tried to cling to his own racing confused thoughts and memories but he didn't really know if they were his or the others. Faces and voices blurred as his eyes glazed over again. Lost to the unknown chaos happening in his brain. He took up mumbling again but this time his words made more sense even though they were broken phrases and loosely qualified for sentences you could almost tell what he was talking about now. “I am…..an archivist and investigator….it was the end of summer….I came here to this hell.” “Hell, that's fueled by a plankton-shaped cat…a fat one…controlled by an arrogant “owner”....” Bits and pieces of his life and time in the fog were recited as he tried to hold onto his own mind in between bouts of pure madness. Unnoticed by him the landscape slowly turned into something more familiar to the outside. The screaming trees and black tar-soaked landscape with scraps of bodies slowly turned into dirt with patches of dead grass and other odd flora. It was by the help of the mysterious fog that followed him the glazed-over man didn’t trip and fall over rotten stumps and thick dead vines. It was still for a moment and soon his eyes began to focus on the fog around him as it danced with black shapes inside it and he soon realized the thoughts and memories that were racing through his mind were being played on the fog like a tv almost. It let him focus better and he concentrated on a blurry image of someone stumbling into a basement to find an odd-looking puzzle box and began to solve it. “That’s not mine…I’ve never found a box like that in the basement. This isn’t one of my memories.” The fog swirled again as it played more and more and Bakers eyes slowly became more unglazed as he furrowed and picked out pieces of his memories brushing away the ones that he knew weren’t his with his staff. The air that was once musty and thick with the taste of death became clearer and lighter….as odd pumpkins began to show up in the landscape with dark red glowing eyes and blue flesh instead of orange. The man looked at it momentarily with a surge of curiosity before being drawn back as the fog swirled in his face forcing him to decide if the memory before him was his or another.

The fog darkened with the next memory as he watched a high-energy chase with a roar being heard in the background. The person jumped a pallet and…it seemed someone tried to follow but got sideswept by a large club. The blurred figure was taken and thrown roughly on a hook with a scream as the sounds of a door opening blared. The person looked at the now opened exit as someone bloody ran through to escape. He stopped his heart racing as he watched the face become clearer as the memory played from the view of this person as it unhooked and swapped places with the fancy-dressed person with eyeglasses and silver streaks in their hair. They then fled and exited the door as they looked at the down person with sorrow in their eyes that they couldn’t help the person who helped them. That person then got grabbed and harshly shoved through the same hook that once held the silver-streaked survivor. The man hung his head in shame almost as he whipped a stray tear from his eye as an eerie calmness filled his mind. “...that’s mine but…that’s not how it went….” The fog swirled showing the true events of what happened…the day he decided to leave. To walk deep into the fog and lose himself on his “terms”. The memory replayed restarting with the chase the pallet that was down in the previous version was up this time ready to be thrown. This memory version of himself without looking behind him threw the pallet behind him as he continued to run without any disregard for the person he knew was behind him. Instead trying to get the dashing demon to focus on the other survivor. He didn’t even turn to look at them as they cried in pain at being hooked. The injured person seemed hesitant to open the door but he simply opened it for them even leaving even before the injured person still not even looking back at the face of someone that was a dear friend. “That’s when I knew…they were in my mind. Infecting it. I would never do that…well I might have accidentally thrown the pallet but. I would never have done this to anyone..especially not to…” He felt a wordless command from the fog. “Say it their name.” A name he has not spoken a name he has blocked from his memory mostly. “V…Vigo….Benedict Baker would never have done that to them without remorse. Baker would not have done that and thought “that’s what you deserve for being so full of yourself.” because Vigo wasn’t most of the time heh….Baker would never had the heart or the soul to be cruel and scorned…. that's why Bak- I left because…because it wasn’t safe! I was just in the beginning stages of becoming a tool of torture for the entity. I didn’t want to be under control so I tried to find a way to escape and just went mad instead but it was better….It was better than becoming someone who I’m not.” The fog cleared with a “nod” dissipating fully revealing an all too familiar area…well almost it still had the pale blue and pitch black trees but it now had stone hills and broken windows…and. Baker swallowed as he stared at the metallic gleam of a hook..why was he here? At the new place his foggy friend promised him did he past it? He turned around and saw a fat cat made of white fog and orange eyes it licked its paw in an odd way a bit uncanny how the paw curled almost appearing broken. Much calmer this time but still overwhelming the overlapping voices filled his mind as the cat looked at him. With deep orange eyes that almost hypnotized him.

“You did it. With the help of that broken zYsjHansGGB “ The name distorted and scratched in his head causing him to flinch he felt woozy as memories filled his mind overwhelming him he could hardly focus as it still talked to him a small drop of blood dripping from his nose yet again.

“It still is protected by them but you still manage to wield it restoring it somewhat. I’ve never seen it done before the many people i’ve led to it never seem to figure it out. Most don’t even see it within the broken rubble of the tower. As much as I want to keep walking with you Mister B your theories and discoveries entertained me for hours but I must return you. I’ll be in the background watching. Though do be careful you will be faced with challenges as she realizes she can no longer grip you like she could. Now good luck and farewell for now.” The cat seemed to seep into the background disappearing within the grey fog and Benedict gasped again this time as he felt the layer of protection that was unknowingly on him break. He felt….Human again. He felt as if he was in a body once more and he turned in confusion and fear as he began stumbling through this strange area. Twisting and turning among the rubble and yelped in surprise as he took a sudden turn and came face to face with a black foggy skeleton with red dull eyes he sighed in relief he’s seen these before. He tipped a nonexisting hat to the broken soul husk. “Uh sorry! Didn’t mean to bump into you good fellow hahaha! Now let me scooch on by.”

Baker sidestepped the eerie sight and not too far away was a…portal? A blue swirling cylinder of pale glowing fog emitted a low noise. His heart jumped something he hadn’t seen before even on his adventures deep into the crooks and crannies of the realms. Filled with a long-forgotten curiosity he approached it circling around it. Tapping it slightly with his staff watching it dip in and out but it seemed not to be affected. Surely something that would get him yelled at for recklessness Baker hesitantly reached out and touched it and felt his gut turn as the fog wrapped around his arm pulling him in. Before the scenery changes in the distance on a broken pillar, he saw the cat again who tilted it’s head and flicked its tail. Before he was sucked into a new area…

He blinked rapidly as he instantly changed areas revealing a rickety shack and a very surprised young woman with goggles on her head who was mid-vault. A smaller hooded figure with a strange mask and pink hair stood behind her knife-raised. Both were rather shocked at Bakers' sudden appearance and paused in their chase. “Who the fuck….”

Suddenly his heart and mind exploded as he realized. This. This was a trial! He quickly turned around and entered the voided portal but instead of being in the pale stone-ruined area he ended up in an all too familiar clearing in a dense woods. It must have been some time since he’s been gone because even as he looked through the woods he could barely see the thin hidden path that led to a secret lab.

He turned his head jumping a little as he heard a dropping sound and looked back at a white-bearded man with glowing tattoos. The man suddenly pointed at him a shocked expression written over his face as a bag filled with glowing orange flowers laid at his feet.

Baker did the same as he realized who it was. Both of them standing in shock for a moment before stuttering out words.

“You’re the odd mumbling man!” “You’re the weird tattoo guy!” The two men blinked in slight confusion and again at the same time.

“I’m weird?” “I’m odd?”

The white-bearded man laughed and approached him gripping the now stunned man and began dragging him closer to the hidden path. Oh gods. Oh to all that is unknown and know he can’t be taking him to Vigo’s not now! He barely has had any time to process his own return!

“Oh you seem much better mister mumbler, please! Let me take you to a friend it’s so odd I just mentioned you about a week ago over wine.”

“It’s Baker and please uh no no I must not it would be rude to-” Suddenly the tattoo man stopped and squeezed his arm slightly as he turned with wide eyes.

“Benedict Baker? THE Benedict Baker? Oh gods truly?” Baker nodded hesitantly how did this man know his name? Well, he seems to know Vigo at the least….he must have seen notes of his and records of this place or Vigo has talked about him.

The bearded man sighed heavily releasing him as he put his hands on his hips rocking on his heels.

“Yeah, I should definitely not drop a “oh your long lost thought to be voided or murdered friend is back!” on them….uuuh let me go see if they're home before I drag you in. I should probably tell hem you’re here before I throw you at them. Uuuh stay here! Don’t go wondering again now Mister Baker! You are one to be lost easily just sit and I’ll be back quickly.” Benedict awkwardly stood in place as the bearded man disappeared into the brush but he called out his name before being out of earshot.

“OH it’s Vittorio by the way!” With some awkward fidgeting, he sighed and did as he was requested and sat on the ground right where he was and fiddled with his hands anxiously trying to process all this at once. He chewed on his lip and mumbled his anxious thoughts to himself.

“I can’t truly be back can I? This must be a dream an illusion I must be caught in her grasp….oh heavens…”

----- With that Benedict Baker has entered the trails once more! ------ Check his bio/refs here! It also has links to his spotify and pinterest boards!

#benedict baker #dbd #foggy words #writings #shy fingers it was fun to do this i love my baker muse

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