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Post by Rocton on Mar 11, 2012 19:17:57 GMT -5
At this point, Nova's tantrums had picked a nerve in Rocton. Although he had just been added into the group as a last minute dead of the night neutrality factor and as such had little room to lean one way or another, it had been builing ever since she had yelled at him in the plane.
"NOVA WOULD YOU STOP THAT!? He's your partner, this is your issue as much as it is his. He's got people after him and now even when he dies, he's gonna get doomed to eternal torment. If everything this witch, no offense Owl lady, is true, then you might be doomed to the same fate. Would you really believe Theron if he came back to tell you that given the circumstances. No you wouldn't. So quit your bitching and start giving a damm, if not for Theron, then for yourself and your family. And once you start giving a shit, why don't you try remembering the fact that Theron hasn't thrown into the curb and actually wants to save you from this hell, even if it means his life would be on the line because as far as I can see he could have just left you back in Death city and let you get mauled by whoever the fuck is chasing him, but he didn't, did he? You know why? Pro hint, he cares. So stop acting like a spoiled little brat and get some perspective because fuck knows if both both of you are intertwined in some ancient curse that devours the souls of many like motherfucking Captain Crunch, you're gonna fucking need it."
Rocton turned back towards the witch and her servant gypsy as he finished.
"Pardon me for the language but I was an uninvited guest to this whole thing and as such as I see little reason for me to be involved with these personal matters, I'll happily wait outside if you wish."
He started to walk out the door before he turned back to Nova to conclude his point.
"FYI I don't have a stake in all this, I could just as easily be at home taking a nap and not be in imminent danger of getting my soul devoured so if anyone's replaceable in this room, it's me and you don't see me whining and bitching about it"
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Post by nova on Mar 12, 2012 3:17:41 GMT -5
Nova was not a person who could be made to do something from sheer force. If your to make her realise and come to terms with something, you do it gently. That's probably the main reason she was like she was. Not one person had been gentle about anything going on, and drop kicked her into it. By the time someone tried to, it was already too late.
It didn't matter if Rocton was trying to do something good or not, he was doing it completely wrong. The only he could achieve with her now was only a worse reaction of what had been happening. As far as Nova was concerned, while she was still being treated like the dog, then all she could was bite hands. "So...thats how it is..." After a moment of silence, the Chakram stood up.
"It doesn't matter how many times I jumped the gun to save him; put my life on the line, and no one cared, no one was greatful. But as soon as he does, get on your knees and worship him like a god?! So I am disposable?" Her voice began to rise. It didn't seem to matter where she went, she disregarded the space around her and went on a tangent. Then again, as far as she bothered to care, no one would ever ask her how she felt in a way that would allow her to do so calmly. Instead, they just kicked her while she was down, and expected her, someone on their last threads, to behave.
" You expect me to care about someone who, realistically, is only 'caring' because his ass is on the line and he knows he can't do this alone. You don't know Theron, and I was stupid enough to not see it when I could." She ballded her fist, and habit that was coming up a lot. "He's an actor. A liar. A manipulator. And before you ask, yes. I do think he'd lie about this. Not about it, per say, but reactions. I don't think any emotion resides within that shell. I think, KNOW, he lacks the ability to 'care' about anyone but himself." She looked over at Roc.
"You weren't betrayed. You didn't give up every secret in return for trust, and I didn't even get that, the one thing I asked for. You were offered money to be here, don't think I didn't hear. I was offered nothing. I was really dragged here thinking I might find a reason to keep fighting with him, for 'perspective', but there ain't one. At least you'll have something to make up for your wasted time, and your not even cursed..." Then, Nova did a strange thing; she laughed. Her voice was even and almost calm. It were as if she'd lost her mind in it all. That a different kind of madness had taken her. "If Theron truly wants to break the curse, he can do it on his own. If he wants to face the Reckoning, which he has to, he can do it on his own. And he can live with himself, on his own. But the only regret he'll have, is not being able to take back his blade." Then she turned to Theron; cold eyes looked into his. "You said it yourself. You manipulated me, and you used me, regardless of my feelings towards you. You're a liar and a backstabber who wears many masks. I don't need perspective. There's nothing to see. " Then she turned to Rocton again "And why are you here, anyway? None of this has anything to do with you, unless Theron needed someone else to throw me to curb, seeing as he won't do it himself."
She knew she was making assumptions, but she had nothing else. She knew they'd extract a nasty response, but she refused to stay quiet. No one had sat her down, and tried to talk through reasons. All she got were stories and riddles and violent outbursts of 'shut the fuck up'. Alek...well, he was close, but even he didn't really listen to her, he didn't speak through her thoughts. Now he was the only one she trusted here. Maybe it was just a girl thing, wanting to talk through your thoughts in order to straighten things out, because all the guys wanted her to magically get over it and understand what she could not. It explained so much to her. Guys often wondered why girls complained about them, but the answer was simple.
Because they just don't care.
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Post by theron on Mar 13, 2012 18:03:43 GMT -5
"You said it yourself. You manipulated me, and you used me, regardless of my feelings towards you. You're a liar and a backstabber who wears many masks. I don't need perspective. There's nothing to see."Theron's eyes slowly rose to meet hers... the eyes of someone who'd been stripped bare and exposed for all his hypocrisy and falsehood. Eyes that dared not speak of pain, or rejection, or sorrow for the shame of their own illusions, for the lies they'd expressed and, at times, even believed. Those eyes were hollow and dead even as they were shaken and desperate. "Now now, children, settle down." The Oracle's tone was almost soft and motherly, though there was a clear insistence in it. She sighed to herself and reached over for the black-cloth bundle next to the chess board, first running a hand over its surface and then slowly unfolding and opening it. "What I have revealed until now has been for the knowledge of all -- something that those entangled in the curse's path ought understand while it can still be revealed to them. You are not wrong in feeling dragged along and sidelined in all of this, November Black. Nor are you, Rocton Barret, as unimportant as you make yourself out to be. I would request both of you grant me just a few more minutes of your time." The bundle was unfolded now, revealing what looked to be a deck of strange playing cards... only it was clearly of a different nature. As the Oracle's assistant stepped in to remove the chess board Pythia began to shuffle the cards, then laid them out face up on the table in front of her. "Theron, your audience with me is over now. Mirai, please escort him out through the back; that man will no doubt be waiting, and the shadow from his past draws nigh as well.""As you wish." The gypsy-priest nodded, walking over to Theron. "W-wait! What do you mean?! What shadow? How do I break the curse on Nova, on myself? And my mother -- what of her?! She never burned; the curse didn't --""The child of falsehoods expects truths now? Hah. You will have your answers in time, but not from me, boy.""Why you --!!" Theron protested. "Your friends -- if indeed they would call themselves as such -- will join you shortly. Their journey has earned my ministrations no less than yours, and their fates are not insignificant compared to your own." There was a firm tone of reprimand in the Oracle's voice now, making it clear that her decision was final. With grit teeth and clear frustration Theron shrugged off Mirai's hand from his shoulder and made his way to the back door... casting a confused, downcast look at Nova before stepping out. "Royalty. Always so self-centered, even when they don't mean to be." Pythia mused. "Now then."
"I know you were brought here for his sakes, but what awaits you both now is significant both because of and in spite of Theron d'Metreon. He has brought your paths in line with his, but the outcomes are still very much in your own hands. And so, there are truths which you should know... truths the cards will reveal to us.The cards were plain white with black symbols drawn upon them in a curious textured paint that, apparently, the blind Oracle was able to read with her hands. Some were immediately familiar -- the skull design of Shinigami's mask, the laughing face of the sun, the grinning moon -- with others being far more strange and ominous. A design of three vertical eyes stood out on one card near the middle of the deck; perhaps the two students would recognize it as the icon of madness? Strangely, though, most of the deck wasn't images -- most of it appeared to be Greek letters. A series of cards with black dots rounded out the set, representing the numbers 1 to 13 in various geometric patterns, as well as two cards whose faces were completely blank. "You have, I imagine, heard of tarot cards, yes? They are the tools of idiots and rank amateurs, though perhaps that is merely my own bias talking." Pythia explained, her hands reaching out seemingly at random to move this card here, those cards there, flip that one face down, turn that one ninety degrees and another one-eighty. "This is a divination deck of my own creation, combining the very building blocks of the world and the iconography of Greek language to delve the tangled paths of past and future. And -- ah, yes, that one there -- they are tangled, not the steady stream of squandered days or the incessant spinning of a clock that many use to understand them. The past is not dead, the present is not truly alive, and the future is not unborn -- these impossible truths are only the first illuminations required to walk the path of the seer."
"And so we begin."Cards had been laid out on Pythia's right and left, the left one in the shape of a fan or upside-down pyramid, the right one like and asterisk or six-pointed star of intersecting lines, both of six cards each. What remained of the deck Pythia now shuffled and held in one hand. "November Black... shall we do your reading first? If you wish it, draw three cards from my hand; fate, chance, and your own hand shall complete the picture that has already begun."(OOC: Okay, this is gonna be a bit trippy, so hang with me. Nova and Rocton, pick out three Greek letters from this web page, or three numbers, or any combination thereof, just whichever three jump out at you / come to mind. You can even throw in any symbols you might know like this one if you want; if you do, just provide a link or quick description for reference's sake. Don't over think it -- this is just as much a thought experiment as it is an obvious setup for any foreshadowing you'd like to do. Whatever you pick, we'll make it work into the story somehow -- enjoy the craziness!)
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Post by nova on Mar 14, 2012 2:49:08 GMT -5
Not that most would believe it, but the voice of the Oracle relaxed Nova and calmed her down. Nova wasn't the type to argue like this, but she was, as she saw it, defending herself. Just as with everyone else, she needed a reason to be like she was, so, she'd use what she had heard to her defence. However, a wounded mind can only remember so much, and the things hidden in layers of riddle and story remained as such. Hidden in layers of riddle and story.
Maybe, once, the hollow eyes of the prince may have shot an arrow home true for her, but since her own had been drained of the life that was, it wasn't the case. It just reminded her she was changed and she wasn't strong. Maybe part of her recognised the anguish in those eyes, but the recognition would not be immediate, or a long time coming.
But the stare he sent her while leaving, was something she could not understand in her current position or, maybe, ever. What she had said had been perfectly clear, and in all truth, not a lie. He had lied to her, he had manipulated her, so then why did he seem so confused? It confused Nova to think on it too much. Bothering herself with him hadn't caused her anything worthy of merit so far. Unless you'd call her current state worthy of 'merit'. Maybe their Resonance counted, but even that left her feeling something close to violated. That had been the epitome of her trust, trusting him with her soul. Something that had been a mistake, she realised, but strangely, not something she wished to undo.
The real Nova was in there somewhere, but she was being suppressed into oblivion. However, Nova came to notice something that stuck at her skin more so than anything. 'He...he didn't say anything...not a word...can't you see I need answers from you damnit...' She didn't know what she wanted him to say, but she wanted to know his stand on where her heart had once sided. But, as was common, she shushed the desire to know with her own answer; 'He doesn't care about that.'
Nova reacted to her name being called by the Oracle. It seemed that now the silence she remained in were to stay that way. She could do nothing when she spoke. Any answer she wanted in a coherent form could not be achieved or attained. So she turned to the Oracle with lifeless eyes and picked out three cards.
' Zeta, Kappa, Nu...'
(OOC- maann I hope I did that right TT__TT) |
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Post by Rocton on Mar 15, 2012 16:35:35 GMT -5
The fire arms technician stopped for a moment as he heard Nova wail back. At this point he had given up on any kind of reasoning with her and halfway wished that if anything were to happen it would happen soon because he was getting tired of the drama already.
The Oracle herself seemed unaffected. She did mention she was gonna die soon so small things like these are hardly at the top of her concern list. Still she seemed to have made her peace with it. Years of foresight could do that, I guess.
The meister hesitated more than Nova to walk back up, he would rather be outside the small shop, preparing for what the witch knew would come. It may change things, she had herself said that the future can be unclear, even if she was talking to Theron.
He slowly walked towards the table, not nervous, just tired and picked a random set of letters.
" Sigma, Epilson, Omicron"
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Post by theron on Mar 19, 2012 14:01:32 GMT -5
"Zeta is the sign of sacrifice, of the laying down of one thing to take hold of something else. In this way it is both balance and disturbance; with every sacrifice made an old way is forever cast aside and a new one takes its place." Pythia explained, gesturing to the 'Z' card Nova had chosen. "The appearance of this card can signify many things, but in your case I suspect it represents a choice that you, or perhaps someone close to you, will have to one day make -- a difficult, sacrificial choice that will shape your destiny."
"Kappa is a complicated omen. Its appearance can signify bad luck, fullness of years, death, the passage of time, and inevitability. This reinforces the first card -- the sacrifice to be made will be a choice between life and death that cannot be avoided."
"Finally, Nu. This card represents our meeting here, right now -- it is the sign of the hag, of darkness and unpleasant necessity. The very act of coming here has changed your future paths; some possibilities have been sealed away, inaccessible, while other new ones have been born and await your choices. This card also suggests that our fates are intertwined, yours and mine... and that, perhaps, you will do me a service of... unpleasant necessity once I have been killed. Time will tell."She now waved a hand over the cards arrayed on the left. "These represent what I can see of your fate. First, the card of three eyes -- if face up it points to madness and depravity; on its side it suggests enlightenment and the acquisition of great power. In your case, the card first appears face-down..."From behind the crimson blindfold Pythia's blind eyes seemed, somehow, to stare straight into November's soul. "The sign of a... sleeping darkness. It's alignment in the pattern suggests a seed that has been planted but has not yet grown. Whether this is something you will face or something within yourself is not clear to me -- the skien tangles and warps around such darkness as this, for nothing is ever certain with suck dark power as this."
"Whatever it is, however, it is integral to your fate. Three paths spring from it, three sources which may influence the seed and yourself. The sign of madness awakened is a certain path to oblivion; the card of the dragon needs no introduction at this point, though given its centrality it may not indicate Karnak's influence alone... indeed, it could be that the flanking cards, the Eyes of Madness and Eta, represent an influence that is, itself, divided -- for the dragon's path connects both to the blank card... and Gamma, the card of the triple goddess: birth, life, and death, the cycle of existence itself. And to the dragon's left..."Pythia reached over and plucked the 'H' card up, placing it in front of Nova in a way that seemed almost tender. "Eta. A card, I believe, with especial meaning to you, child. Balance. Being at peace with the world. Joy and love. The music of the spheres, the very dance of the universe itself. It symbolizes a tendency towards perfection and regeneration -- of bettering all that it touches."
"I have long awaited this day, child -- and in my waiting, I explored the threads of fate for those I would meet here, both past and future. This card, dear girl... stands for your soul... and I would have you take it with you, along with this." From the folds of her robes Pythia drew out a letter sealed in a plain white envelope and placed it down next to the card. "There is more you should know, but now is not the time. Open it when you feel your soul has recovered a measure of peace. Once I am dead this letter will give you what little else I know about the curse, the ways in which it may yet be broken, and truths which will bear fruit in due season."
"Now then, one final fortune to tell before my hour comes..."She waved her hand over the other set of cards. "This is the reading of your fate, Rocton Barrett. Unlike November's there are no clear paths... merely choices and fates yet unborn. The cards you have chosen will guide us. Now then..."
"Your first card, the beacon of the other two, is sigma. This is the card of the spirit guide, those who usher the dead into the afterlife. This can be seen as a reflection of your current role as a student and servant of Shinigami, but the other cards suggest that there is more to it than that. Epsilon speaks of the spirit incarnated in the body, of invisible power in the aether and the breath of life itself -- the very counterpoint of death's emissary. Finally, omicron; sun, the circle of existence, one who bears light into darkness. From these cards and what I have seen..."
"...There will come a time when you will arbitrate between life and death, as one bearing authority in both domains. A soul will live or die by your words and your hand; either they will find peace or be blinded by what you shall show them in that vital hour."
"The cards reveal paths which shall lead you to that hour, and each one will affect what awaits you. The Death card and Chaos card stand juxtaposed upon the circle -- a choice between Shibusen's leadership and the bedlam of free will. So stand the sun and moon; I foresee you will have to choose the hour for this fateful encounter. Finally, the One and Five cards -- isolation and companionship. The angle of Five is no accident either; when this fate arrives, if you choose the support of others you would be well-advised to seek out those who, like the four points of a compass, can lead you straight and true."
"There are two more cards for you, Rocton... though their meaning may alter your path irrevocably, and not for the better. Would you have me reveal them, or let what awaits you remain unchanged? The choice is yours."(OOC: Phew! That was a bit crazy, eh? In case you're wondering, source material for the mystical Greek letter meanings is here.)
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Post by nova on Apr 2, 2012 19:21:10 GMT -5
For her first two cards, Nova listened like a Student would. She knew not if she really understood it, or if it would even serve her anything later on. The old Witch had said so herself; Tarot cards were nothing but a cheep trick. The fact she was now using something similar, made little sense to the Weapon, but she was in, and never had been in, a position to question people ethics apparently. However, it was on the card of Nu, that something strange happened in the back of Nova's head. Somehow, some way, Nova knew...
...knew that the Witch was wrong. Or at least off. Something in the back of her head gnawed at the perimeters of her mind. Mocking both Nova, and the Old Witch. Nu. It was also meant the Night time. A time at which evil seemed to run amok, both in the wide ragged world, and similarly in her own dreams...
"THE NIGHT TERRORS
[/b]"[/color] And the girl froze. Completely froze down to her core. Her blood chilled to ice and her heart leapt into her throat. The Demon Weapon looked truly petrified. She didn't know that Nu had a link into the night. So then, what did? How did she know if never had before? Regardless, Nova knew she had to pull herself back together to maybe piece together what the Witch was saying to her now. It would linger though, like splinter in the skin of her thought, it would irritate and capture her attention. Still, her news seemed to go quickly down hill. Tales of Madness; an almost inevitable self-destruction for a Student who had readily battled it otherwise, but had never been capable mentally to shrug off the corruption that came with Madnesses Aura. Then, there was an even stranger card. A card that 'Represented her soul'. Eta...It enraged her. Balance? Peace? Bettering all that it touches?![/b] It felt that even fate was mocking her. She could not better the person she had loved with all her heart and soul even when she had been all this card represented, when she had been who she was before. She felt no peace, felt no balance. She was spinning rapidly into oblivion, and this card represented her?!"It should have been...Iota...don't you think?"
"Insignificance? That works well..."Nova shook her head lightly. "Shut up..." The Weapon rasped under her breath. If she could hear that voice, did that mean this was all a dream? That she would wake up tomorrow, and it would be as it was before? She wished, prayed, with all her heart that it was that way. Even if she knew it wasn't. That fact filled her with an immeasurable pain. Then, the Witch gave her a letter. A letter that contained whatever knowledge the Oracle had left to tell about the curse. Nova could have stayed quiet about the card that was both once her soul and a long lost aspiration of a young girl with the spirit to try and bring happiness to those who filled her life with it's own joy. But, this... "Why me? Couldn't you have given this to Theron? Wouldn't that save both you, and me, a lot of trouble? If I'm to carry out a deed in your place, then why does it have to be me? I tried my best before all this. If he didn't want my help then, why would he want my help now.""Well of course he wants your help now! Why do you think he dragged you here in the first place? You already know you're a pawn in his game and that's just something you're going to have to deal with one day..."Nova went rigid. Why wouldn't it stop? The voice seemed to shrug as it spoke, patronising and angering... belittling. This was the last thing she needed. The last thing she wanted. She couldn't say anything though. She'd demeaned herself enough already. No one would believe a word she said. Maybe the voice was stress getting to her. Lack of sleep? But it was pushing her either way. Somehow, it was pushing her further passed her limits. Further than she'd already fallen. And under her breath, she repeated; "I said shut up...[/blockquote] (OCC- Sorry I didn't post sooner TT___TT) |
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Post by Rocton on Apr 3, 2012 0:41:54 GMT -5
As the Oracle read out Nova's fate, the firearms meister took his time to observe his surroundings and mull over the idea of how the Oracle had come to the conclusion that her death was imminent. It might of meant that whoever was chasing Theron was likely coming and things were finally going to get rough . If anyone were to approach coming from the street was unlikely unless they were concealed, another witch possibly? A kishin less likely, they were always more...direct in their goals. If such were the case then the danger was less. But the former soldier recalled learning how to think in all dimensions if you didn't want to get shot in back. He needed to explore, if the "royal" family really would go to the trouble of sending something large at them an over sized kishin or a golem and how easily it was to surrond the building.
As the Oracle mentioned her final fortune telling, Rocton snapped to attention as he lost focus on his thinking of an escape plan
...There will come a time when you will arbitrate between life and death, as one bearing authority in both domains. A soul will live or die by your words and your hand; either they will find peace or be blinded by what you shall show them in that vital hour.[/color]
The meister just stood there one hand on his face to cover his face as he went into deep thought. He couldn't think of what this all meant. Life, death, you had power over either one as long as he had his gun. In fact, he'd decided the fate of a few others before...he had long come to terms with the fact that they were forces on the world that deserved to die. Hell sometimes he fit he himself fit under that line. To blind...with truth perhaps? which option was good or bad? It sounded like he was going to reform a criminal, a powerful one. To give them a life of peace, or to end their reign? Given his track record, it was likely the latter that would be picked.
The cards reveal paths which shall lead you to that hour, and each one will affect what awaits you. The Death card and Chaos card stand juxtaposed upon the circle -- a choice between Shibusen's leadership and the bedlam of free will. So stand the sun and moon; I foresee you will have to choose the hour for this fateful encounter. Finally, the One and Five cards -- isolation and companionship. The angle of Five is no accident either; when this fate arrives, if you choose the support of others you would be well-advised to seek out those who, like the four points of a compass, can lead you straight and true.
There are two more cards for you, Rocton... though their meaning may alter your path irrevocably, and not for the better. Would you have me reveal them, or let what awaits you remain unchanged? The choice is yours.
"You're not making this easy, but go ahead. If my life leads to this I want to know as much about this as possible, worse comes to shove, I have to shoot a few more things than usual"
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Post by theron on Apr 9, 2012 12:13:51 GMT -5
Pythia's eyeless attentions seemed to take special note of Nova's whisperings; it was very subtle -- a slight inclination of the head, the gentle furrowing of the creases on her forehead and around her lips -- but an astute observer could discern the "gaze" of even the blind, if they were watchful. The old witch listened as the students spoke, then gently returned the laid out cards to the deck and began once more to shuffle with odd, drawn-out strokes of her hands. "November... had the contents of that letter been for the beggar prince I would have given it to him, though perhaps wrapped in a riddle or dark sooth-saying. It is my way, my habit of old, to frustrate those who rely too much on their own cunning, and he is such a one. But with you, I shall speak plainly when and how I can."
"Yes, what is written concerns him. But just as a wise parent does not tell a child how to create fire until they are mature enough to do so wisely, so I would not foist the letter's secrets upon him. What is contained within... could destroy him, destroy you both. In a way, it is for the best that the trust between you and he is broken right now; had you come to me mere days ago, your loyalty would likely have divulged knowledge from the letter that would have caused both of your deaths within a month."
"Know this about your Meister: he is a foolish and reckless child who thinks he understands the world and those around him. He does not. In reality, his own darkness has colored his world deeply; he sees in shadow but barely in light, like one who has dwelt in a cave and has only just begun to venture out under the sun's rays. There are things he should never know, and things he must not know unless the alternative is death." Pythia's tone suddenly became stronger, almost forceful as it entreated Nova. "You must promise me this! That letter is for your eyes only, it's knowledge only for your heart. Do not submit it to another, least of all that fool prince, if it can be avoided."Her shuffling suddenly stopped. From the top of the deck Pythia drew two cards and placed them in the center of the table. "The card of primacy here is Phi. It's meaning is simple: man. But the card that accompanies it is Alpha. Normally this card signifies wealth and the anchors of society... but here it is on it's side, rendering an alternate meaning. These cards speak of a man of corruption, Rocton Barrett, of ill-gotten wealth gained by contemptuous means, of a man who preys upon others for what they possess. This is the identity of the one you will confront. This man's cord of fate weaves very close to your own... you may well regret the day when you meet this man, for it will not have been your first encounter."The Oracle's assistant came back into the room, quietly, and stood attentively next to the old witch as would a devoted servant or dutiful child. Pythia extended one hand and the younger woman slowly helped her to her feet. "This is all the wisdom I can give you. My time is short now. Please, join the foolish young prince and the witch-slayer; Mirai will show you the way. I must prepare to meet the one who will end my life. Do not think to protect me or avenge me; my fate cannot be altered now. Live your lives fully... and bear well all I have said. It is the last gift I give to this old world.""Please, follow me." Mirai gestured towards a half-concealed back door in the corner of the room, discernible from the wall only by the fact that it hung half open. "There's not much time, and I must attend to the Oracle's last wishes before we are attacked." |
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Post by nova on Apr 9, 2012 19:43:15 GMT -5
Her words struck the young Weapon in ways she'd thought she'd never feel again, even if she was in no position to make such a claim. It may have been selfish, or even narcissistic to others, but to Nova, if this letter was for her, and only her, then it gave her a sense of purpose. She'd looked for it in Theron, back at the cafe but even then, she had been denied that sense of purpose, from the boy who had gave her purpose in the first place.
If this letter was so important, if it were for no one else to read, then it was something she had to defend until the time was right. If this were her only use, then she would dedicate herself to it unrelentingly. Anything for a sense of usefulness, of purpose...of trust. The Old Witch trusted Nova in her few words left. In the end her will had been met by a person she barely knew at all, and a witch at that. The will to be trusted, and if the Oracle trusted her, then it was only fitting for her to give her own trust in return.
That was what Nova had longed for, and she would turn herself into a living machine if it meant that the task she had been given was completed. If she had been permitted the trust of someone at deaths door, then Nova would do all she could.
A spark of determination returned in the eyes of the Chakram.
"...Of course. I'll...I'll try my best."
"You are foolish...tsk, to give away trust so easily? No wonder people take advantage of you all the time. You're pathetic..."
With a slight wince, the raven-haired girl shrugged off the off-handed comment from her head as she took the letter and, more cautiously, the Eta card. Some part of her wanted to ask why this card represented her any more, but troubling the Witch now, asking only more questions, would probably try her patience.
It seemed that Nova's loyalty had found a place in someone who was already dead. A witch, like one she would have to hunt down and kill, should she wish to become a Death Scythe. Once this was complete, however, Nova would find herself, again, with no one to trust or align herself to. If, however, she died first, she would apologize to the witch in what ever afterlife there was.
"This is all the wisdom I can give you. My time is short now. Please, join the foolish young prince and the witch-slayer; Mirai will show you the way. I must prepare to meet the one who will end my life. Do not think to protect me or avenge me; my fate cannot be altered now. Live your lives fully... and bear well all I have said. It is the last gift I give to this old world."
Somewhere in Nova, she was questioning. If that gem stone ring in her pocket belonged to anyone, would it not be with the Witch? It had been one of many things that had tried to symbolise her trust, and her bond, and had failed. So, then, would it not be right, for her to have it, even if she had no need for such a thing?
No, such a token would be pointless.
Nova turned to the Oracles assistant, as it were, and obeyed her, exiting the building without a sound. It was only common place for her to respect what she had heard here, and to respect what both women wanted, though she still had many questions. For the first time, Nova had true trust. In her hand she carried the evidence of it, and the words of someone waiting to die. |
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Post by Rocton on Apr 19, 2012 0:29:00 GMT -5
The firearms meister himself was at a loss for words for the first time in a long time. He never had much to say regardless but this was more than just that. He was out of the whole situation, from the curses and the high school drama to being in Greece to trying to understand what the ancient seer had just said. His head just racking trying to gather up memories and lists upon lists of who he might of met in his past, who he hadn't dealt with already but he was blank. Throughout most of his memory, the people he had encountered all them greedy in their own way but he could not recall a single absurdly evil one that he hadn't killed. His own comrades he had shot when they had gotten out of control. The entire thing had just sent him into a spiral of confusion, until he heard Nova start to shuffle and walk out of the room alongside the slave seer.
He followed slowly, still pondering his past until he made it out the room and realized his time to ask questions was over so quickly. He needed to know more now, his task with Theron and guarding Nova meant less now, Nova's attitude wasn't helping matters either.
He turned to speak to the assistant
"I need to know more about this, I need to talk to her, I need more to go on. When can I get her to clarify these things for me?"
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Post by theron on Apr 23, 2012 11:03:51 GMT -5
"Her time is already over, young one." Mirai shook her head slowly. "Only death awaits her now." "I have been her eyes for many decades now, the closest thing to a student that Pythia has had since the loss of her temple. Perhaps her apprentices from ages past still live and can reveal more to you; I know not. Perhaps in time even I will..." Her eyes suddenly misted over and the young woman wiped away a tear. "No, there's no time for me to think like that. Maybe we will meet again, if fate is kind. For now though, our paths must separate." The short passage led to an altogether plain door with a bolt-and-chain lock, already undone. Mirai gestured ahead. "The others are waiting out there. I must return to my master; she has yet one more task for me." She reached into her pocket suddenly and pulled out a strange silver coin, placing it in Rocton's hand with an almost uncanny swiftness. "The tetradrachm is a token of good fortune. Bear it well; if we do meet again you can return it to me then. Please, go, and... good luck." Without another word she turned and made haste back down the passage, closing the heavy hidden door behind her. The heavy sound of a lock echoed and then all was quiet. No going back. ------------------------------------------------------ "So that's all the old witch said, huh?" The alleyway behind the fortune-telling shop was an odd place of scattered light and deep shadows; apparently this area was popular with those homeless who lived on the streets, children especially, as the narrow gap between buildings had been granted a semi-roof of scavenged plywood, sheet metal, and detritus bound together by rope and lengths of wood. This patchwork covering had a fair number of gaps, however, casting long shafts of light into the otherwise omnipresent gloom. In this broken darkness Theron and Alek stood, waiting; the young prince leaning against the wall next to the doorway, arms folded and expression both weary and grim whilst the Demon Weapon stood off to one side, his lit cigarette glowing deep amber in the gloom. "Yes, that's all. Unless the curse can be broken, whether I live or die in the Reckoning is meaningless -- my soul... and Nova's... will both be consumed by some kind of sealed-away dragon spirit. The witch called it Karnak; mean anything to you?""Hell no. What, do I look like some kinda magic historian? I eat witches, kid, not sit down and chat with 'em."It was at that moment that the door opened and both Nova and Rocton stepped out. Theron glanced over at them and then away, as though he were about to say something and then thought better of it. "Welcome back. Hope you got something out of all this -- Theron was just filling me in and it sounds pretty much as bad as I'd thought." Alek dropped his cig onto the pavement and ground it out under his heel. "Alright, time to get you two home, like I promised. We'd better--"The streak of black erupted from the shadowy alleyway without warning, a swift bolt that impacted a mere inch from Theron's head and stuck there, quivering ever so slightly. The young prince's eyes went wide with disbelief as they rounded on the object, backing away as he did so. There, visible in a patch of daylight that fell across the wall... ... was a fork. A black, obsidian fork. " . . . La naiba, not him." |
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Post by majordom on Apr 23, 2012 17:12:16 GMT -5
Tap. Tap. Tap. The sharp sounds of footsteps echoed down the alley like a well-wounded time piece. Calm, collected and in perfect, timed collaboration with one another. They'd stop for a moment, and then begin once more. Tap. Tap. Tap. From somewhere unseen, a voice called out. It carried only the barest markings of an accentation, though otherwise perfected with its pronounciation of the English language. Every syllable pronounced and carrying an almost melodic charisma that exuded refinement and established a quality of upbringing, whilst restraining it of any kind of uncouth tonation. "The game commences. White pawn to E5, black pawn to E5."Ah, how they had played such games of cat and mouse for years. Each day spent pushing the boy's limits. Each moment practicing tact and method, tutoring combat one part of the day, and the other tutoring the boy's mind. Every vital instance utilized to try and mold and shape the frail infant lump he had been left with into something presentable. "White pawn to F4, black knight to F6."The boy's opening move. Full of risks and potential dangers for the one meant to otherwise be safeguarded. A daring strategy, an old one at that. Some might find it an original venture, to utilize such a tactic, though that would only be so if it succeeds. He, however, had preparations already in place for such an occurrance. "White pawn to E5, take black pawn. Black knight to E4."Indeed, the very instance he had an inkling of the boy's intent, of his daring game at risking his own neck, he had set about formulating counter-measures. He allowed the boy his victory, allowed him to escape, or believe that he had done so, because by the time the boy had even a moment to breathe anew, he had already put him within his sights far in advance. Tracking devices. Spycams. Wiretaps. Informants. Intelligence gathering. Assassination network exchanges. He was thorough. That was his duty, after all. That was his job. "White knight to F3, black knight to G5 - white at a disadvantage."And so he had waited. Watched. Listened. Pressured. Studied. Bribed. Everything to follow the boy. Every opportunity taken in order to never take his eyes off of his target. Off of his prey. Every possible moment that he could afford, he kept the boy in his sights, regardless of the distance that had him just out of grasp. Not a moment where he could not have plucked the boy out from his imaginary safety and brought him simpering to his knees in recognition of his betters. By now the footsteps had began to form a kind of clarity in their source.. as the far end of the alleyway to the source of light the tailcoated silhouette embarked towards the small group of youths and their chaperone. And as he got closer, the more of him there was to see. Slender, tall, well-groomed and handsome. He could barely look older than his twenties, and so well dressed was he in such black clothing that one had to wonder how he managed to not break a single drop of sweat in the Greek heat. "White pawn to D4. Black knight to F3 - check."They had found the boy eventually. It was to be expected of them. He made sure to make it difficult for them, however, up until they did. Secretively, diligently, and with the skill in which his profession demanded, he had blocked their success at many a turn, keeping his prey to himself. His target safe for when he chose to go after it personally. The man in black was dressed in all of the elegant refinements of a nobleman's servant, a butler. His hair black and groomed neatly, though with a small amount of aloofness with the allowance of a few bangs to hang while ruby eyes looked out but gave away nothing. Donning a tailcoat and a vest and a white shirt with silken gloves, his finely polished, shiny black dress shoes continued their well-timed tapping against the pavement. The shafts of light seeping through the holes above reflected off his silver buttons and the glittering chain attached to a timepiece, safely pocketed. The man's right hand was raised in a flourished hand gesture, his fingers poised and bent as another beam of light drew attention to the obsidian set of two knives, a form and a teaspoon held between his gloved digits.. the same as the one beside the d'Metreon prince's head. "White queen to F3, take black knight. Black queen to H4 - check."He had waited for this eventuality. For when he would no longer be able to keep the boy from their sights, and when he would be forced to take action at long last. He was already aware of the attack on the boy's little perch in the western land of the Americas. He was accutely aware of the injuries he'd sustained, and of how the boy's foolish endeavors had served him thusfar. The d'Metreon prince was protected. The tall man, the familiar face from almost seventeen or so years ago. He was a risk. The boy as well. Armed, judging by the posture and shifting of weight. Experienced from the stance and the ever-so familiar look in the eyes. The girl did not present a threat in her present state. The man suddenly stepped to the side.. and vanished. Somehow not even the remotest trace of his presence remaining, visually speaking, as through perfected skill and practice the well-dressed man became one with the shadows. "White queen to F2. Black queen to F2, white queen falls - check."The voice came again, though no longer from where it once had been.. instead.. from the other side entirely! As another set of forks, knives and spoons would be launched with that same deadly accuracy and pin-point precision as before. Their aim was guided towards the adult Weapon's arms and legs - counting on the man's age and experience to be able to at least dodge that much - and the young, white-haired Meister's clothing, seeking to immobilize the two combatants first.. ..before he'd spring forth as if out of the very shadows themselves. His face a calm portrait of a smiling man, ruby eyes reflecting the pale light that shone through ever so briefly. Ah, how he had missed the sight of his prey. The boy had ran this far, but was there ever any question as to whether he'd be able to elude him or not? Another obsidian knife slid from the man's sleeve and into his hands, as he moved as if a guided missile until he stopped right before the d'Metreon prince.. knife to his throat. "I fear your King's Gambit has concluded poorly, my little lord. Allow me to commend you for your attempt, though ultimately I fear that such a move may have been presumptuous on your part when dealing with an opponent such as I. After all.."He withdrew sharply, as a strange blue light wrapped itself around the obsidian cuttlery and was then suddenly gone from sight altogether, vanishing into thin air and leaving mere wisps of blue light as the sole sign of them ever having been present. The man straightened his back, adjusted his collar and his tie. His feet snapped to attention with enough force that the heels of his well-polished boots clicked together. With a sweeping gesture of the arm, he lowered his head into a gracious bow for the d'Metreon prince, before raising his gaze.. that smile, that tone of voice, it never having broken character, not even for a fraction of a millisecond. Every act and spoken piece of his vocabulary practiced and carried with the fine-tuned edge of an expert. "..am I not Theron Bradford d'Metreon's butler?" |
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Post by nova on Apr 24, 2012 1:36:52 GMT -5
What.
Exiting the dark hollow through the back door, Nova felt the presence of both Alek, and, less so, Theron. Roc followed soon after her, being denied any more knowledge from the Seer. Seemed only fair. Both herself and her Partner had been spoken to in riddles, Rocton was entitled to nothing more than that either.
In her hand was the Card and the Letter, in which she found her purpose for now. The Demon Weapon would of course go to Alek; she had disregarded the hand brace and how her wrist was aflame in pain. She didn't know how long this would take to heal again, but she had things she needed to do now and this was just an hindrance to her.
What.
However, someone else had jumped on board. Theron had become a popular bandwagon along with all his misdeeds.
THWACK
A black fork sunk itself into the wall. No doubt most peoples attention would be on the soon-to-be newcomer. A familiar face to maybe two of them but yet another annoying stranger that would test the thin pieces of rope that kept the Weapon from flying in a Berserker Rage of useless proportion. The voice of the elegant man danced off the walls. Nova understood none of it. She'd probably be the only one stupid enough not to.
The old partner of the Prince flinched with her Moral Code when the knife was presented and placed at the Princes throat. This man would probably draw sound nor scream from the people around him for a good few moment while it was let sink in that he was almost comic relief. But, as he announced, what a servant and butler to the d'Metreon Household, as so, it would probably be a mistake to take him as such.
WHAT!?
This was all rather confusing, but the whole day and more and been confusing. She wondered if it was too much of her to ask for a break, she didn't want to be around Theron any more, the longer he said nothing the more pissed she got and him and as soon as her hand fixed up, he'd be the first person she'd punch regardless. She couldn't even bother with Roc, she'd probably never see him again and he hadn't...no, take that back, he'd been laughing at her the whole time; most likely because it took a lot less effort to 'feel sorry for' a guy. Pfff, a girl? What ever pain you'd dealt her, she deserved. She'd punch him, too.
"...Now, can we go?" The weapon didn't have enough mental capacity left to regard the Butler with any noticeable emotion. She just wanted to get gone, go home, break down for a bit, and see if any one she knew thought Nova was worth their time let alone actually listen to, rather than being shallow, like everyone else had proved so far. Nova was obviously at the end of her string, but that didn't mean someone would intentionally kick her into a sinking abyss.
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Post by Rocton on Apr 25, 2012 2:41:10 GMT -5
Rocton's habit of zoning in and out of thoughts, trying to figure things out had once again cost him vital information. He was shocked for a brief moment as he recalled the seer's prediction of her own death. For a half a second, he contemplated turning back, walking back and demanding to help. Something in the back of his head just kept him from doing it. It knew he was on a different mission, even if he didn't like it. Nova and Theron's survival was what was at risk right now, he had given his word he would help Theron, even if Nova was being kinda a bitch, whether or not she had reason, still a bitch.
When the seer swiftly placed the silver coin in his hand, he took a moment to observe it, to try and understand it, what it was, if he'd seen it before. The giant owl on one side was hard to forget so he gave up on the idea of it being familiar and looked up to thank the witch only to find that she was gone.
He reluctantly put the silver in the coat pocket that hid his pistol and walked up to Theron besides Nova when he started to hear a tapping noise. He looked up quickly and tried to get a good luck with his soul perception. It burned his eyes to do, he was still trying to get a good handle on activating the ability, but he noticed this new figure approaching, stopping and going and disappearing when it attacked with some sort of projectile directed at Alek.
The meister tried his best to react, to get a shot at this new person before things went from bad to worse. He tried to reach for his gun but he was pulled back by the force of a fork clinging his jacket to the wall. More "silverware" got his pants in a similiar situation but he cared little about his clothes and tore himself off the wall in one swift motion. As he pulled out his gun and tried to get it aimed mentally, he swore he heard something about Theron's butler so he paused for half a second as he asked, "Is everyone in Romania this crazy?"
(OOC: crappy post sorry guys)
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