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Post by theron on Feb 10, 2012 20:21:09 GMT -5
The rest of the flight had been fairly quiet, aside from the occasional patch of turbulence and Caleb's poor taste in morbid humor. Sleep had come to some but not others; while Alek managed to doze off for several hours in the private section Theron had flitted into and out of sleep fitfully in ten to fifteen minute intervals; some were dreamless, empty black expanses of the mind that left him cold when he woke. Others were nightmare versions of the night's events -- a dagger through his chest, a shower of darkness and falling glass, the merciless eyes of a killer... the loathing in other eyes, Nova's, his teachers and fellow students, Alek's... Nova looking down on him, screaming her hate of him walking away even as he called after her desperately... falling, falling through an endless pit where regrets and judgement flitted about like phantoms swimming the void... ... and the eye, bathed in fire. Twice he'd seen it as he grabbed at fistfulls of sleep and each time it woke him with a gasp of terror and a wash of sweat pouring down his brow. The nightmare was back with a vengeance -- it would not let him sleep. If he had started the night half dead, Theron looked fully so as they disboarded at Athens International. Sometime between attempts to sleep he'd decided to change out the blood-soaked wrap on his shoulder for a fresh one; the wound was healing but still wasted no time leaving a deep crimson splotch on the assembly of cotton pads and gauze tape. Whether it was blood loss, sleeplessness, night terrors or something that ran far deeper, Theron d'Metreon had all the vigor of a shambling corpse as he descended the stairs and stepped out onto the tarmac. "Okay, no time to waste." Alek instructed as the group gathered outside the plane. Due to flying east across time zones it was now mid-day in Greece and the wandering Demon Weapon was keenly aware of it. "We'll grab a taxi to a restaurant nearby our destination -- if anyone feels like eating you can get a giro or whatever strikes your fancy there. And don't talk about last night or where you're from in public; the less attention we draw, the better. Any questions before we head out?"
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Post by nova on Feb 11, 2012 16:39:38 GMT -5
*Beep*
""Heya, Mom, Dad, it's November here.
Well... I don't really know where to start, or if Shibusen have gotten hold of you themselves by now. If not, then I... I'm on my way to Greece. Not on a Mission, or anything like that. To be honest, I don't really have much of a clue myself. If I'd never met Theron I probably wouldn't be in this situation. Dad, I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before. Ah well...too late now, I suppose.
Fox is at home, I didn't think I'd be here, just thought I'd be going to the station for a witness report and be back. She'll need looking after for a couple of days, that's the only thing. If I'm not back soon, I'll have to ask you to pay the rent, I promise I'll pay you for both things; I shouldn't have to call you for things like this but...I don't really have a choice.
If anything else, I just want you to know that I love you both, for all you've ever done for me. I don't want you to worry, but we all know you will. I'm also sorry that I'll probably fail as a Weapon in regards to my loyalty. My loyalty was betrayed and my trust forgone. When I come back, maybe I can explain things more, if you want to.
Anyway...All my love, and best wishes. See you soon."
*beep*
Silence.
At this time in the morning, the Black Household would be rife with noise; music of some sort, normally. But, that wasn't the case. Not this morning. The clock had just gone 10, the phone was in the kitchen, the Demon Weapons mother had been cooking rather happily. Shifting through orders of custom made jewellery requests on the answer-phone always meant good things.
The last message on it happened to be Nova's. The otherwise jumpy and happy air that hung about the house had been sucked out into oblivion, and a heavier one took it's place. The bacon on the frying pan began to burn and sizzle, and Gale Black stared, pale and horrified at the machine. Her emotions were caught somewhere between terror and desperation.
The whole house seemed to stand still.
The small and kind hearted woman didn't know what to do. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, ignoring her husband calling down asking what the burning smell was, and getting worried when no reply came. He walk into the Kitchen where Gale was, he was half way through his sentence when his words dimmed. His wife looked up at him.
"Gale?...Whats wrong? Is something-"
"SEPTEMBER!"
Breaking the silence on her part, Gale wrapped her arms around her husband, crying into his chest.
"She's gone! November's gone! She's gone and I can't do anything!"
His expression held a more collected composure, but one of deep thought. He returned the embrace of his wife, and placed his mouth next to her ear, trying to bring her some comfort as he whispered to her.
"Now, now, Gale, calm down, take deep breaths, and tell me what's happened..."
_______________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________
Nova, on that one rare occasion, had slept without a single nightmare. In fact, she hadn't moved an inch from were Alek had put her down. Snuggled up in the blanket, the Demon Weapon looked peaceful, but exhausted. The only break from the madness before she opened her eyes, and was thrust back into it with an unrelenting force.
She woke just before they landed, the sun of southern Europe shined brightly. From the moment her eyes opened, she was thinking again. About everything she'd said last night, and what she'd done. It had to be her left hand, didn't it? Such a foolish girl. It still hurt, though she couldn't move her fingers, not that the brace that Alek had put on helped. It did, though. If anything, she considered him someone she could talk to here. The only one. She felt isolated all the same.
The heat of the midday sun would end up getting to her; she knew that much as she walked out into the fresh air after a long flight. There was a breeze that danced a welcome now and again, if anything, the weather reminded her of home, but she felt so out of place here.
"We'll grab a taxi to a restaurant nearby our destination -- if anyone feels like eating you can get a giro or whatever strikes your fancy there. And don't talk about last night or where you're from in public; the less attention we draw, the better. Any questions before we head out?"
For one Nova stayed quiet, though she stood closer to Alek despite having known him for all of a few hours, and away from the other two. In a way, Nova felt he reminded her of her Father. She felt safer nearer him, like she'd be reduced to nothing more than a timid little child.
"I just want to know how long I'll be here before I can go back home." Nova's voice drifted off towards the end. All the anger and sadness that had once been the entirety of her thoughts and been washed out to leave something that seemed completely devoid of emotion, but not yet dead. Though she looked unwell and as disconnected as her Meister, her eyes had a spark in them. Behind those eyes, Nova was trying to regain a sense of normality to her process of thought. She didn't want to drag around a dark cloud, but she still have climbing to do. But you could sense that she was trying as hard as she could to get over her mental block.
Nevertheless, Nova wasn't hungry nor willing to eat anything. If anything at all, she just wanted to get clean. However, she didn't even know how long they were staying, and if over a couple of days, where they'd be. She didn't want to bother the question though if no one else did. She'd either wait and see, or ask when she just had to know.
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Post by theron on Feb 20, 2012 13:09:33 GMT -5
(OOC: Well... with Rocton unaccounted for, I'm just going to move this along for now. When / if you come back Roc, shoot me a PM and we'll work out a re-entrance for everyone's favorite grown-up child soldier.) "I just want to know how long I'll be here before I can go back home."Hers was the only voice amongst the three students that spoke up; Rocton kept a quiet, thoughtful vigil over the assembly and Theron... well, the Romanian had all the enthusiasm of someone waiting for the gallows. Alek couldn't help but sigh wearily -- he'd known this would be rough on the kids, but this trip was quickly turning into a circus of misery, despair, and distrust. He wasn't the kind to be all smiles and sunshine himself, sure, but the fog of depression that hung about the three -- Theron and Nova in particular -- was beginning to wear on him. 'And there's probably no good news in sight, either.' He thought to himself. "Just hang with me for a couple of hours; that should be all this takes."And with that, the travelers were on their way. --------------------------------------------------- Twenty minutes later...Kotetol was an eat-in or take-out Greek restaurant of decent but not significant reputation, a bit of local color for tourists on the run or residents just looking to grab a quick lunch. Its design gave off the sense of having been a "mom and pop" shop that had evolved with the times -- it certainly wasn't like the fast food joints known chiefly in America but neither was it a fancy establishment by any stretch. Taking an outdoor table, Alek ordered them all some water and a basket of flat breads... then set about explaining their next step. "There are some... details I haven't told you up until now, things best kept fairly quiet." He gestured with a slight nod across the street, keeping his motion subtle and his voice low. "That's where we're meeting my contact, the informant who knows about the," Remembering his conversation with Davian he quickly checked himself before the word 'curse' fell from his lips. "Fate that awaits you two."This statement alone was vague enough, as had been all of Alek's reasoning until now... but what made it even shadier was the fact that, nestled right between a dry cleaners and shoe store, was a small, dimly lit, black-curtained storefront with a neon purple sign in the window that said 'Oracle of Delphi Psychic, Tarot, and Palm Readings' right where he'd directed their attention. A moment of silence... then Theron, in a momentary burst of grim humor, looked back at the older man with a stony expression. "...Let me guess. Not the shoe store."The drinks and bread arrived; Alek took a long sip before putting the cup down. His voice was, if anything, even quieter now -- so soft the students would have to strain to hear him over the noises of the bustling Greek city. "Don't react to what I'm about to tell you. Don't say anything out loud or make a face -- I'm still not sure how safe we are. But..."
"She's a witch. An old one."
"The original Oracle of Delphi."For the first time that morning Theron's dead gaze gave way to genuine expression, wide-eyed disbelief momentarily overcoming jet lag, exhaustion, and dark contemplation. To his credit, though, he uttered not a word and let Alek continue. "She's been involved with Sly and I since around the time Theron was born, right after our partnership broke up. Originally she was just another mark I was hunting... but she saw me coming. Saw a lot of things coming, apparently -- a genuine bona fide future seer, if you can believe it. I certainly didn't at first... but when a total stranger calls you by name, offers you tea, and tells you things that no one should ever possibly be able to know . . . well, she's the real deal, that much I'm convinced of."The retelling itself seemed to unsettle Alek a bit and he took another swig of water before continuing. "She says you two are tangled up in a nasty fate, like I've mentioned... but she also said that beating that fate was absolutely vital, that really, really bad things were in store for a lot of people if you don't get this thing figured out and beaten. She was sketchy on the details -- said my aura made it hard to see clearly; anti-magic wavelength, you understand -- but that she'd explain everything to, and I quote, 'the son of the witch-slayer and the black blade at his side'. Crazy old bat loves to talk in riddles, just to warn you."
"Fortunately, the first part was obvious." He pointed at Theron. "Your mother was a witch-slayer with me as her Weapon." The finger shifted it's direction towards Nova. " 'The black blade at his side?' That took me awhile. I didn't put the pieces together until I learned about you two partnering up, at which point it practically smacked me in the face. 'Black blade'; November Black, the Demon Chakram. That's why I had to get both of you -- somehow, you're both tied up in this future-fate-changing business together."The look on Theron's face made it clear he wasn't about to just go along with this. "So you dragged us from Death City -- in the middle of the night -- because some strigoaică said she saw the future but wouldn't tell you about it?"Alek paused for a long moment, then almost too casually tossed out. "Shibusen's been testing your blood samples, kid. Wanna know what they found?""... Surprise me."Alek leaned forward across the table until his face was about a foot away from Theron's, eyes locked on his. The Romanian didn't waver in meeting his gaze. This staring contest lasted for a few seconds until Alek was confident he'd assured Theron of just how serious he was. "Magic traces. Process of elimination. Magic-user? Nope. Recent witch exposure? None. Conclusion?"
"Your blood... is cursed, kid."
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Post by nova on Feb 20, 2012 17:18:38 GMT -5
A couple of hours? She nodded quietly, sure, she could do that. Try her best to grab hold of herself, somewhat. The ability to speak, function as a normal human being. Somehow, though, it didn't matter; her efforts would probably be wasted. Not everything had light shed on it, and all that she could see had been enough to do all this to her.
Right now, she was more afraid than anything else, and the one she used to go to for the comfort had caused it.
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Greece was...different from what she'd imagined. Then again, with the Euro's value decreasing day-by-day, and with some people having not been paid for over half a year, it was hardly going to be full of life. They'd be lucky if they didn't run into a riot. This world was corrupt; down to it's core, and the core didn't mind that at all, not one bit. Yet, you didn't have to be strong to sit on a pile of gold, nor did you have to work hard. All you needed was luck, and there it would be. Your life, literally, on a sliver plate.
For now, her thoughts were still. She listened, like she always had, without a word. She didn't even turn to look when Alek pointed out where they'd be meeting this person, informant. Nova had summed that she'd be another person with lack of emotion, lack of empathy. Just another to see a little girl. Clueless, useless and pointless. The thoughts alone caused a straining in her chest. ' Too emotional. Way, way too emotional...'
In fact, the only thing Nova understood, was that this woman was a witch, and an old one. Who was she kidding, she didn't know who the Oracle was; it meant nothing to her, but it only served to make her feel that much more stupid. Once again, everyone had a clue.
The refraction of the light in the water glass had her eye more than anything else.
Until the word curse.
Her eyes darted up. She knew now...she understood
She'd been blaming Theron for this, when he wasn't the one she should be blaming...it was...
"Myself..."
The word was under her breath, but seemed absolute with a depressing and loathing resolution. With care, she took off the brace Alek had put on her hand and even then it hurt. She showed her left palm, and on it, the scar from Fall River. "I...I did this...to...myself...by trusting you completely I...I cursed myself. I've been blaming everyone else when I..."
Ignoring what Alek said, her right fist came down on the table.
"I should only be blaming myself..."
"Can I truly do nothing right?"
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Post by theron on Feb 21, 2012 23:02:11 GMT -5
Theron's mouth had been halfway open to start a fiery retort to Alek's claims of a curse... but stopped and went silent when Nova spoke up suddenly. His eyes turned to watch her unwrap the brace on her hand, instantly falling to the trace of a scar that marked the girl's palm.
"I...I did this...to...myself...by trusting you completely I...I cursed myself. I've been blaming everyone else when I..."
It shouldn't have been possible, after all that the last several hours had put him through, all the shock and rejection, pain and despair, for Theron to once again feel like the entire world was falling out from under him... but as he looked at her, watched her reaction, and as revelation dawned as to what she was implying... everything else seemed to fall away. The Reckoning, the rejection, even Alek's crazy story and enigmatic reasoning. If she was right...
"I should only be blaming myself..."
"Can I truly do nothing right?"
Theron shot up from his seat suddenly, a hot spark of intensity in his eyes mixing oddly with the pallor of his half-dead expression. "No. Don't you dare... don't you DARE blame yourself after what I've put you through!" He grit his teeth and shrugged off Alek's hand as the older man placed it on his good shoulder, a silent warning that he was drawing too much attention. Theron didn't care. He continued. "I'm the one whose been false -- I'm the one who kept secrets and tried to play the odds for my own benefit. You did nothing, nothing wrong Nova. I... I dragged you into all this, even though I never intended to get you mixed up in it."
"Theron--" People were starting to stare.
"But I'll be damned before I let you share my fate. I may have failed as a Meister but I won't let my failures be yours to bear. I..." He visibly began to deflate, the fire in his eyes dimming as he looked regretfully to one side. "I owe you that much, at least. If there is a curse... if it's going to affect us both... then there has to be a way to break it! Somehow..."
"Kid, I really think this isn't--"
"I have a year; if I can't find a way to lift the curse by then, at least one of us will still have a chance. You deserve a better life than being the Weapon of a two-faced third-rate Meister anyway. When you go home, forget me. Forget the things I've put you through. That's... for the best."
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Post by nova on Feb 22, 2012 18:28:28 GMT -5
Theron's reaction caught her by surprise, but eased not the hurt that had been caused. Alek attempted to shush him but it didn't work, and he'd have another problem in her retaliation. She grew angry at him, and, taking his lead in suddenly not caring about the attention they drew, stood to meet him, locking him dead in the eye. "Your failures?!
[/b] If I recall right, I trusted you! That was my choice, my fault. I didn't have to team up with you, and even when I did I was told you were trouble. I let you do this, I. Trusted. You."[/color] The demon weapon grabbed her Meister by the collar and with a violent tug brought him face to face with her, closed the gap to an uncomfortable distance and had bright sapphire eyes glare with disdain into his own. "And how dare you tell me to forget you and what you did do. Not all of us are like you, Theron. Not all of us forget that easily. I could never walk the streets of Death City if it were left like this. Unlike you, those who earn a place in my heart are never forgotten, and doublely so to those who break it."Nova sighed painfully, and her grip on the fabric loosened, her body shook with rage, but was too tired to fight with it. She hung her head in shame. "I didn't have to come here...I didn't have to know what I know now. I had the choice to forget you and walk away. I'd regret either decision I made. If you came to me with the intention of breaking every promise you made, fine. If you came to me solely to use me, fine. If you couldn't care about what you have done to me, fine. I'm just a loyal weapon, and it will never matter what you do to me. I've no interest in trying to find the good in you, not when I can't tell what's a lie and what isn't."
"I'm staying. Because that's what I promised you. And a weapon should never break her promises to her Meister." [/blockquote]
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Post by Rocton on Feb 22, 2012 21:13:01 GMT -5
OOC: There's not much for me to add here.
IC:
The night on the plane was strangely comforting. Roc had spent the entirety of the trip sleeping, pistol magazines protruding from his jacket and at one point being shaken off by turbulence and sliding around the plane until the noise woke up the meister who scrambled around to get it back without waking up Theron.
Once in Italy, the third wheel took little time to get to his duties. He began by ensuring he rode a different taxi and arrived at a another restaurant not too far from the Kotetol and walked the rest of the way. When he finally got back with everyone, he sat a table away and only got bits and pieces of the conversation. Something about a witch and a fate or something.
At this point, the meister was more occupied with trying to discreetly check his remaining stores of ammo from behind a menu until he was served a nice hot cup of chocolate.
"This might not be so bad" he thought as he cautiously sipped the drink while keeping an eye on the surroundings in search of anyone else that seemed out of place.
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Post by theron on Mar 2, 2012 2:05:23 GMT -5
He looked at her, expression somewhere between disappointment, frustration, and just the slightest hint of anger. A thousand thoughts swam through his mind -- just how stubborn she was, how reckless, how she was so determined to throw her life away for a liar, thief, and manipulator. How one of these days, if she followed through on that promise and he didn't stop her, she was going to get herself pointlessly killed. And how much he didn't want her to die. He was about to launch a response when suddenly, with deft movements, Alek was behind him with his hand on the Romanian's uninjured shoulder, pushing Theron back down into his seat. At the same time the southerner was casting a gaze over towards Nova that sent a clear message -- "if you two don't calm down it won't be good for us". "Damnit kid, not in freakin' public!" Alek's whisper was more of an annoyed hiss, making his irritation very clear. He took a deep, calming breath before he continued. "Look, both of you, relax on the teenage melodrama for five minutes, please. I think we all agree on one thing: breaking the curse takes priority -- you can sort out loyalty and betrayal and all that good jazz later. Now," He pulled out his cell phone; sometime during the Weapon and Meister's rather public argument he'd gotten a text message and now showed it to Theron. It was just one simple letter: E. "That's her signal. She's ready to see you now -- hey, hold up!"Alek had gotten halfway through his sentence before Theron suddenly bolted upright and made a dash across the street, weaving in-between oncoming traffic with barely any regard for the half-dozen vehicles that came within inches of hitting him. Horns blared angrily; tires screeched and Greek voices shouted out open windows. None of that mattered to him right then; Theron had a goal and was absolutely focused on it to the exclusion of all else. "Damnit!" Alek cursed out loud before turning to Nova and Rocton. "So much for subtlety. You two had better follow him; she doesn't want me in there during her readings. I'll be waiting out back, in the alley behind the store."------------------------------------------------------------------ [/b][/i][/ul] 'Athan's Classical Greek and Roman Figures' had once, years before, been a prosperous business venture. Specializing in life-size stone and faux-marble statues made in the likenesses of Mediterranean classics from the age of antiquity, the proprietor had once made a good living by providing local and overseas customers with reproductions for display in their homes, gardens, community centers, parks, and elsewhere. The world loved classical Greek and Roman statues... or at least that's what Jalis' father Athan had reasoned when he'd started the business. And for a time, it was true. But every bubble bursts, and the business had gone down right along with the much of Greece's economy. With his father now a year dead from sudden heart attack it fell to Jalis to figure out what to do with the two and a half dozen man-sized statues standing, like some strange stonework army, inside the huge metal shipping container at the docks. It was eerie, really; opening that door and flooding the dark enclosure with light almost felt like intruding upon a grave... and, even as he read over the inventory list, he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes upon him. The three sharp raps upon the metal door made him jump; Jalis turned to the sound of the knock to see a strange short silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. As his eyes adjusted the person came into clearer view -- a stout, burly man, almost a dwarf in size, whose cold leering eyes and unruly stubble-field of a beard put him in sharp, almost comical contrast to the fancy suit and top hat that he wore. The description that jumped to Jalis' mind was 'an ugly leprechaun going to a wedding'... but there was something so severe about those eyes that the thought to laugh never once occurred to him. The short man looked about for a moment before his gaze, cold and strangely hungry, settled on Jalis. The young man stuttered out "Can I help you?" in English -- to his surprise, the visitor responded in Greek. <<"You must be young Jalis. I knew your father -- he and I had a long business relationship.">> <<"Truly? You were one of my father's partners? I... don't recall ever meeting you, sir.">> The short man shook his head. <<"No. I was one of his customers, a frequent buyer. Your father did good work and I was more than glad to buy. It's a shame the business ended like it did...">> <<"I see. Thank you for your kind words. Was there something I could help you with, mister...?">> <<"Call me Vrahos Anax. And yes, there is something you can do for me.">> He gestured with a free hand at the arrayed statues, rows of Athenas and Ares, Hercules and Hermes, an array of figures from myth and history cast dramatically in stone. <<"I'd like to procure your remaining stock -- I have very immediate need for a large number of statues and I'll gladly take whatever you have.">> Jalis' eyes lit up with surprise and disbelief. Someone willing to buy up ALL his father's leftover statues in one fell swoop?! It almost sounded too good to be true! He'd been contemplating selling them on the cheap just to get rid of them but this man, this client of his father's, surely knew the value of such things and would-- It was two strange sounds that interrupted Jalis' momentary euphoria... the first, a sound like stone rubbing against stone, but smoother, less harsh somehow, and the second... ... a sickly squelch that he felt as much as heard. He heard it because its source was very close at hand and he felt it... well, because when a six foot tall faux-marble recreation of Athena drives its spear through your torso, it's something rather hard to ignore. The young man's final moments were spent staring down at the blood-dripping stone spearhead protruding from his chest and wondering how on earth such a thing was even possible. <<"Oh, and I might just add your soul to the deal, if that's all right.">> Vrahos chuckled to himself as the young man died right in front of him. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The fortuneteller's shop was essentially what one would expect: a dim space, lit mostly by dozens of candles seemingly placed at random, flavored by the scents of assorted incense and embellished with a scattering of mystical-looking paraphernalia. Astrology charts and dream catchers hung from the walls astride strange framed parchments and elaborate archaic pendants -- the very image of the eclectic esoteric. A small table draped with a star-speckled cloth occupied one corner of the room and in another was hung a large bird cage, it's occupant a small light-colored owl with strange milky-white eyes. The creature seemed not to notice as Theron and the others entered the main parlor, though it did seem to stir as if from slumber. A woman arrayed in a strange melding of gypsy and priestess fashions emerged from behind a bead-curtained doorway, her face half masked behind a hanging veil that covered her nose, mouth, and chin. Theron met her with silence and an expectant gaze. " Khairein -- welcome. The Oracle has been expecting you..."
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Post by nova on Mar 2, 2012 20:18:49 GMT -5
"This better be fucking good..." Was all the enraged demon Chakram could think of to hiss under her breath as she followed the arrogant Meister into the traffic, following the path of stopped cars as quickly as she could, completely forgetting to re-attach the brace onto her broken hand. 'That punch would have been better saved for him.' The bitter words wove into her thoughts. Theron did want the help he'd gotten her for, but it was all she had left to him. Her empty promises.
The shop inside was almost as she would have imagined it, if her brain had stopped pounding enough to let her. But that Owl...The fortune teller was a witch, right? Nova gave it a a quick glance, before disregarding it slightly.
"Khairein -- welcome. The Oracle has been expecting you..."
"It's nice to know someone has things going as they expected."
Nova wasn't one to use a harsh tone and dry sarcasm on someone she didn't know, which suggested something dangerously wrong with the little demon weapon. The aura from the two students was a glaring and almost over bearing sense of anger, frustration, and intolerance. The blue-eyed weapon's mental state was flipping between personality extremes; one moment, an emotional, the other, infuriated rage.
Part of Nova wanted so badly to put her Meister into his place; it seemed like the only thing that could stop the nauseous burning in her stomach; but he'd just look back blankly, and carry on, coming up with an excuse to do with how he had been treated in the past.
Nova no longer cared; you don't mess with the person who'd put their own life in place of yours so many times before, and were still willing to do so, because they knew in their heart that they were better than that. Better than the person who'd kick them into the dirt, and only show any regret to you in the form of self-pity when they'd realised they'd screwed up.
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Post by Rocton on Mar 3, 2012 3:16:08 GMT -5
As Nova and Theron ran through traffic, Rocton walked up behind Alek and put his hand on his shoulder as he started to pull up his bag over his shoulder.
"I suppose I should follow but before I go after them, I need to know. How could you identify me? I can get you stalking Theron because somethings has always been off about him, but I'm nothing special. As a follow up question, what's your stake in all this? He's not your kid and he's sure as hell a big problem if you went through all this trouble. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I don't think you're being honest with us but I don't like being other people's pawns without the slightest decency to let me know just how deep into the rabbit hole I'm going."
He paused a second to let Alek answer before he looked up to see Nova going into the building and decided that he would need to juggle his privileges. As much as he wanted an answer from Alek before he had time to think of a way to cover his ass, it would all be for naught if the others just walked into an ambush.
"I'm going to hate myself for this but I'm giving you some time to think of a response.
With that being said, the Meister walked away towards the "fortune teller" with an arm in his coat pocket and a respect for the traffic laws. As he pushed open the door to the building, he looked back at Alek to see if he could catch some telling glance of his true intentions.
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Post by theron on Mar 5, 2012 15:41:25 GMT -5
"What's your stake in all this? He's not your kid..."That part of Rocton's questioning quite nearly brought a smile to Alek's face, though the part of the gesture that did show through had a clear undercurrent of the distant past and a tinge of regret. Yet his eyes spoke his thoughts clearly, if Rocton had the attention to read them: one day you'll understand. "... Pretty deep, honestly. But that all depends on just how far down you want to go.""I'm going to hate myself for this but I'm giving you some time to think of a response.""Answers later; that's a promise." The whip-sword replied as Rocton turned to follow after the more reckless Meister and Weapon pair. watching them go -- and knowing that most everyone in the area was now gawking at 'those crazy kids', the older man reached into his trench coat pockets and pulled out the small glass chess piece he'd picked up at Theron's apartment. When Rocton looked back he'd see Alek regarding it fondly. "... And so it begins."------------------------------------------------------------------- The strange woman who greeted them gave a slight nod, though there was a reserved and perhaps even saddened aspect to the gesture. "Even that which is expected is not necessarily desired... as I imagine the young man here can attest." Theron chafed as the gypsy turned her gaze on him, reading the meaning in her words all too clearly. "Somehow I doubt that's any of your business. Before we begin here let me make myself clear: the only reason I'm here at all and willing to even entertain the notion that events can be foretold..." His gaze dropped somewhat, betraying his true thoughts -- 'is because this curse, if it's real, effects someone important to me' -- but only for a moment. Despite his failures, his disgrace, and the near certainty that his fate was already sealed, the young Romanian now had a fight on his hands, something to be gained or lost, something that mattered. And with that mindset he returned, at least marginally, to being the level-headed tactician that Nova and everyone else had thought of him as a mere twenty-four hours before. "... is because I hate unknown variables.""That's quite the thing to say. Regardless of your feelings about prophecy, the Oracle has information to impart to all three of you. Please," She gestured through the door hung with the beaded curtain. "She will meet with you in there." The room beyond was surprisingly spartan compared to the strangely decorated main room of the fortune-telling parlor... but what awaited there was telling. A low table, set about with sitting cushions, rested in the center; on it was set up, of all things, a chess board. Stepping into the room, Theron recoiled slightly at the sight, guessing correctly that it was set up with him in mind. Next to the board was a small bundle bound loosely in folded black cloth. A hanging electric light cast a silvery pall across the room, the orb it was set into being off-white semi-translucent glass. The gypsy woman ushered all three students in, then went back into the main room for a moment. Listening carefully, they could hear the shop's front door being locked and a sign on it being turned over. The young woman returned to them with the caged owl in one hand, turning to close and lock a secondary door to the inner room as she entered. "... So, what's the importance of the owl? Not that I haven't already guessed. We were told the Oracle was a witch.""That man never did like keeping my secret."The voice seemed to echo sourcelessly in the room... though there was no real room left for doubt about who, and what, had spoken. The gypsy girl gently placed the bird cage down on the table, opened the door, and offered her arm as a perch to the bird inside. There was a deference and sense of servitude in that simple action that made this woman's relationship to the witch abundantly clear. Letting the milky-eyed owl down gently onto one of the cushions, the girl stepped back as the bird began to glow and transform, taking on human shape. The figure who materialized was striking in several ways. Long tussles of medium brown formed a curtain of hair behind her almost long enough to be considered a cape; a hooded tan robe engulfed her from head to toe, it's fabric having a subtle and faintly reflective pattern that almost seemed to breathe and ruffle on its own when the light hit it just so. A number of rings decorated her fingers, the choice of deep amber as a gemstone fitting with the woman's blend of earth tones. Her skin showed the wrinkles of age but wore it well, the lines and creases faded and soft as if her body itself was confused as to whether it should look young or old. A single tear drop of silver sat on her forehead as if glued there, a curious icon... made all the more so by the unsettling emptiness of her silver-white eyes. Placing a hand onto the table she sat down, then from the folds of her robe brought out a length of dark scarlet cloth... and wrapped it around her eyes. This, then, was her. The ancient witch. The Oracle of Delphi. "Welcome." The Oracle began, spreading her hands in an open gesture of invitation. "Welcome to the boy with much to fear. Welcome to the girl with much to regret. Welcome to the soldier who seeks his final battlefield. All, welcome."
"I am Pythia. Once, men revered me as an oracle of the gods, though few ever met me in person and fewer still knew that it was not gods that I spoke for. The witch-slaying blade has brought you to me at my request -- two at my request, that is, and one for his own reasons. This meeting I have awaited for several centuries --""So you're a witch." Theron interjected, sitting opposite Pythia and leaning aggressively across the table. "I won't dispute that. But witches are known for manipulating others, yes? What proof do you offer that this magic trace in my blood is a curse? And why should I trust anything you might say on the issue?""Ah, the prince of suffering speaks, the voice of suspicion and distrust. You are right not to trust witch-kind, child... but this is not a court of law. You ask for evidence, for facts that can be verified and truths that can be tested. From your perspective, I can offer you precious little of either, for indeed, what I see with these blind eyes is neither truth nor falsehood. It is merely shadows of that which may yet be.""Then why should I even consider what you have to say? Or are you, as a witch, going to analyze the curse's magic and tell me about it?""Hah. Child, you may as well ask me to lead you on a tour of the city. Once, perhaps, I might've examined the enchantment as you say, but conventional magic is long since gone from me. You believe not in the inevitability of future events? You said as much yourself, and you are wiser, and more foolish, than most for it. For those who ply the twisted skien of fates yet unresolved know there is not merely one future, but many. As many as the grains of salt in the sea or the dust upon distant worlds. Many... but not all equal.""What are you saying, you old crone?""Will you hear me out or not? Choose now; your future pivots upon it."Theron's face laid out clearly his frustration and disbelief... but also betrayed a faint hint of desperation. Breathing in deeply, he calmed himself, settled back down onto his cushion, and turned to Nova and Rocton. "...What do you think?"
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Post by nova on Mar 5, 2012 17:48:07 GMT -5
So, the witch was the Owl. Maybe it would have surprised her, if she had been normal. Rocton had joined them inside, neither of the women here seemed to mind the extra guest, but Nova found everyone's presence more annoying than she should. Her aggravation only increased every time someone spoke. But still...
'The girl with much to regret.' The notion alone confused her; if she could feel regret much deeper than she had and was already, she didn't know if she could take it. Most definitely not alone. What on earth was there left that could make her feel much worse? What was there to regret? Nova's eyes started to burn slightly, whites reddening as she realised she was just fighter back tears as she thought.
How deep had she dug her own grave?
"What do you think?"
Nova's eyes looked up and glared at him again. "I think you should shut the fuck up and stop being an arrogant shit before I punch your teeth out. For once, take the help your offered, and realise when people are trying to do something good for you before you fuck up." The weapon then sat, rather heavily, down on the pillows, completely disregarding the fact her threat held no water. She would've done it, only, with a badly injured left hand, she wasn't hitting anything any time soon. Or painting, either. "Don't know why your asking me anyway. Since when did you care." That was all she said, her soul giving his a violent lash through their fragile connection.
Nova wasn't even sure if she wanted to hear what the Oracle had to say. However, coming this far from home, and all the suffering, couldn't be for nothing. The choice had been made before they'd even boarded the plane. It didn't matter if Nova liked what she heard but she knew she wouldn't. She wouldn't like anything anyone had to say for a long time but she was here now. The least she deserved, the least she needed to know, was the extent of the damage she had brought upon herself.
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Post by Rocton on Mar 8, 2012 1:41:04 GMT -5
As the entire event transpired, Rocton had mostly given up on the idea of either Theron or Nova being in any imminent danger in this place. The witch herself had taken Rocton off guard with her transformation as he had only read about witches up to that moment. He knew that some could turn into animals but the only things he had read about mentioned beasts of evil whose very presence screamed of evil. This witch was different though, or maybe she wasn't, but whatever she was, she wasn't as clear cut as the books made witches out to be.
He looked at the gypsy, the servant, willing or unwilling, he was unable to tell. It was clear however that she was neutral to what was going on...perhaps the same could be said of the witch.
Theron's question snapped him back.
"Theron, I'm just the third wheel in all this. You do what you want. Personally, I wouldn't say no to some extra info in all this. We can choose to ignore it later or accept regardless. If anything goes wrong, I think we can come back and confront her without too much of a issue"
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Post by theron on Mar 8, 2012 18:16:44 GMT -5
"In that, you would be wrong, child. For my life ends this very day."The comment brought everyone's attention back to the Oracle, some with surprise... "Hmph. Now you're just trying to lure us in with false drama."... others not so much. "You think I lie to gain your trust, but that could not be farther from the truth." She sighed wearily. "I suspected we would have some misunderstandings, you and I. Come then, Theron d'Metreon, and understand me better."She gestured towards the chess board. Theron raised an eyebrow in suspicious disbelief. "Is that what you're going to use that for? I play a blind old woman in chess and if, through some miracle, she wins I'm forced to believe you can see the future."At this Pythia cracked a coy smile. "Ah, you are indeed mired in distrust, child. But no, it is not like that at all. Even with my... gift, the outcome of any game between us two is already decided. This is not, after all, a game for the blind -- the odds of me defeating you in chess, your own specialty, are almost beyond grasping.""But if you can see the future, you can see my moves. You could have your assistant here move the pieces.""So stubborn. No, child, that is not how it works."
"The chess set I put before you as an illustration. I cannot beat you because you are a better player -- I have not foreseen even one fate in which playing you at chess results in my victory. For that, child, is the only clear element of prophecy, if such a thing can be called 'clear'. Outcomes. The end results of actions, not the actions themselves, for delving into that mire of cause and effect is a fool's errand. Will he start with a pawn or a knight? Which pawn, which knight? The number of moves which make up the game is staggering and to foresee every possible one would drive a mortal mind, even that of a witch, to madness. So it is with prophecy. A thousand paths arrive all at the same destination; some vary by miles, some by inches, some by an impossibly narrow margin. In such a cloud of dust no one can see clearly, not even the most gifted. Yet the dust can only settle in so many ways."
"You look upon the chessboard and you see latent possibility, like a writer before an empty page or an artist at a blank canvas. A single move writes a story before your eyes and you combine geometry and psychology to project forward unto the most likely outcomes. Prophecy is no different. Every moment, every breath, is a move, winnowing the cloud of possibilities until only the strongest outcomes remain. I will die today. This is a fact. The assassin is already on his way to do his master's bidding, to slay my body and collect my soul..."
"...For the witch who bound the curse upon your blood covets my soul for what it has seen.""...You're not going to run? To fight back? Just let it happen?""You do not see as I do, boy. When I was young I achieved the impossible: through lost rituals and terrible sacrifice I looked upon the threads of existence laid bare, knowledge in its most pure and terrible form, that which your theosophists call the 'akashic records'. Just a glimpse..." She looked away and upwards for a moment, as if gazing at some impossibly distant object. "But that moment sealed my fate. I learned then both how to see the skien of fate and every possible way in which I might die. Both were burned into me irrevocably; just as your eyes would go blind if you stared into the heart of the sun so, too, the 'eyes' of my soul were blinded, and as goes the soul so too, gradually, goes the body. All I have left now is the after-image, if you will, of such pure insight seared into the very core of my being."
"I have chosen this day to die, boy, because what I must tell you is important. Important beyond your reckoning. I have seen the fiery thread that twines around your own fate... and it must not be unleashed."M U S I C A L . S H I F T Menouthis from E.S. Posthumus Fiery... thread? Suddenly a queasiness gripped Theron's insides as, completely against his will, a flash of recollection shot through him. The ground, breaking, falling away beneath him; a fire-wreathed eye splitting open the endless dark with a blood-chilling roar; darkness above, fire below, falling, hopelessly falling... His body shook for a moment and he bent forward, hands to his mouth, quite nearly about to vomit. Somehow the broken prince pushed back, though the fresh shade of green that came over him was evident. "...So, you have felt it. The creature's influence.""... Th... the nightmares? They're linked to this curse?""Nightmares? Intriguing... yes, I would say they likely are. For what you face is not merely a curse, but a bond."
"A pact.""What? What do you mean? A pact with what? By whom?""By your ancestor... though he made it unwillingly. The one you call Lord Lucien d'Metreon was deceived. He feared the touch of death more than any man ought, to the point of obsession.""NO! Lord Lucien established the Sovereign Barony at the edge of a sword. He fought dozens of wars and scores of battles in his lifetime -- a man afraid to die cannot succeed on the battlefield!""True, Lucien showed great valor. And it was not a death in war that he feared... it was a death in peace. The idea of old age repulsed him, of growing feeble and soft where once he had been strong and fierce. He spent years and half his wealth searching for a way to never become old, calling upon holy relics and dark magic each in turn. Finally, he was approached by a witch of great skill and power... who offered him an arrangement."
"She claimed she could transfer souls between bodies, offered to give him younger flesh at the expense of one of his heirs. Their agreement was no secret; Lucien sired many children and it was assumed that whichever one displeased him most would become his sacrifice. In exchange, a deal was struck; the house of d'Metreon, your lineage, would be at the witch's service if ever she would need them... but in the end, this was not all she exacted from your ancient lord."
"She enacted a perfect betrayal."
"Lucien believed the magic she wove into his and his children's blood was preparation for the soul transfer ritual, but this was deception. He believed that the enchanted vault she'd had constructed merely housed powerful magics to sustain his soul while it waited between bodies. He believed every lie she told him and did whatever she asked, all in the hopes of avoiding that one fate which none can escape. Had he but heeded my council at that time nothing which confronts you now would have existed...""You knew Lord Lucien?!""I knew many. I knew the witch who deceived him, too, and I knew the terror she bound within the Soul Vault. It is a being born of a fury that was kindled before man's most ancient dominions rose from the dirt, whose kind was hunted nearly to extinction but is now rising again. You have seen the first echoes of their coming -- dead souls that have forgotten how to die, that warp any creature they claim so that they may feast on blood as they once did long ago, in a time red in tooth and claw. What is bound in that vault, what is bound to your blood and that of your companion..."Theron rose unsteadily, body shaking as the meaning sank in. Those creatures from the Greater Nevada Zoo that he and so many other students had fought off... this curse bound him and Nova to something like THAT?! Something ancient, something 'red in tooth and claw'... but what could... "Its name, or that which passes for a name amongst their kind, is 'the flame that devours'. In ages past, when it roamed freely, men gave unto it many names... but for our purposes 'Karnak' will suffice. The traitorous witch sealed Karnak's soul within the Vault and then linked the binding magics of the Vault to the d'Metreon bloodline -- this is the nature of the curse. While the Vault holds him Karnak's blood-stained spirit does not decay like his kin... and the curse ensures he is fed regularly.""Fed? You mean that...""When you die, the curse will take full effect. Your body will be consumed by flame from within, reduced to mere fuel to transport your soul into an eternal hell within the Vault where it -- where you -- will share the fate of every d'Metreon since Lucien. You will be consumed by the undying soul of the ancient dragon, Karnak, merely one more sacrifice to the beast."He staggered back, half falling and half leaning as he found the wall and braced himself against it. Theron's eyes, filled with fresh terror, were locked on the blind witch. No rest in death... only a second death, as mere food for a terrible monstrosity...
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Post by nova on Mar 9, 2012 14:59:07 GMT -5
With every passing second, Nova felt more and more excluded from a diabolical fate that was just as much her's as it was her partners. For they were bound by blood, and the only one at fault was her. Theron was only ever doing what he had been taught. Trust was naught but a tool towards attaining victory, and she had well and truly danced it. Though that fact could never ease the pain.
Unlike the Prince, the weapon didn't flinch or move. Her striking blue eyes seemed hollow and empty. Unmoved by the Meister, whose reaction to the truth of his fate, was proper and disorientated. It was hers, similarly, but the last 24 hours had changed Nova. The words didn't pang an emotion, not fear, nor anger. Right now, Theron had refused the help she had offered, the reason for his deceit was to use her to become stronger, but he wouldn't let her help willingly.
Thus, any meaning she felt, by serving as his weapon, had gone with everything else.
Her cold eyes fell to the witch, whose death would be imminent by her own choice. A heavy silence fell in the room, before the weapons words cut it.
"So, why am I here? Theron could have told me all of this when he returned from this little venture, or not. If you've got nothing to say to the companion-" The word was spat out. She was not addressed by name, nor acknowledged personally. She was the companion, the helper, the servant without a name, the dog that followed blindly, stupidly. " - then why the hell did you ask for me to be here? The only thing I've been taking from this is how ignorable and meaningless my presence here is, so unless there's anything to say to me, then this has been a waste of time and effort in some way on everyone's part."
"Unless the only thing I'm here to do is get used to my pawn-like, throw away roll in all this shit." She sighed "Everyone just looks at me like I'm an idiot. My part in this is as replaceable as I am, so why did you want me here?"
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