A woman was walking down the sidewalk with her hands shoved into her pockets, head down and shoulders hunched. She was wearing an odd combination of...mostly trash. On her right foot, a hole-y green and black Nike shoe with neon green laces, sized ten. On her right, a blood stained pink New Balance, sized eight. She wore tens, but hell. She was wearing a pair of denim knee length cut offs with ripped and torn reddish brown leggings, a dirty, hole-y wool coat and a trucker's mesh John Deere hat.
She was looking a little thin these days, but she still had some muscle tone on her long legs and in her toned arms. She was five foot eight with long, braided black/brown hair that looked frizzy and unwashed, fitting in with her dirtied condition. Her skin was a light mocha.
Her name was Josephine, and she was one broke a** b***h. A former cage fighter, she'd been down on her luck for a while now, and the living was anything but easy. Constantly hungry, constantly hot or cold or tired, she had a hard time moving forward, but struggled hard to do so anyway. She had recently found another door to Sigil, and it was in Sigil she was determined to turn her luck around.
Ursan watched silently, even as Hartia began to falter somewhat. He was pulling massive amounts of energy out of the seal, more like a starving man given food than a patron at a fine cafe. It bubbled out of his flesh and pooled around Ingri's body, before spilling across the floor and cesspooling in with little eddies; it looked part water and part air, heavy and thick but lighter than anything else, as if it were representative of that duality within Undeath. Hartia cried out, a bit too loudly, and Ursan cocked his head, studying the demon-kin with that Gold Eye of his. There was something stopping him from embracing this power, not his life, not his lack of ability either, leaving Ursan to wonder if Hartia was having difficulties because he simply couldn't completely understand those subtle little nuances and weird rules of undeath.
Ursan peered into Hartia's mind, peeling back those initial layers, and saw those surface thoughts winding around, mere hints of deeper thinking and unconscious works tinting the rest. Demons, names, true demons, it left Ursan with a few more questions. He pushed deeper, just enough that Hartia would feel him there, but behind just enough fluff and mess that his presence wasn't oppressive or even worrying. Ursan would walk closer to Hartia, almost close enough that he could smell that small pocket of death that surrounded the Lich, and he could see how the light seemed to bend when it came to Ursan, sucking into those black black bones.
"Death. You're holding the power of death in your hands." Ursan whispered, seethed almost to the point of hissing in Hartia's ear. "It's the polar opposite of what makes your heart beat."
Ursan would snap his fingers, right by Hartia's face, as if teasing at that focus. He was trying too hard, it wasn't so much a show of force, as with some schools of magic, it required the soft touch one treated a lover with, the gentle caress and hold you had for a newborn.
"That little spark of life you've got? It's the exact opposite. Immortals, demons, extraplanar monstrosities, anything else, it all has that spark. It might be different from creature to creature," Ursan waved to Hartia, then towards the window. The curtains moved aside, and from this height, they could see how the Market Ward in the distance moved and bustled. "It might be different between a human and an immortal, but it's there, in some shape or form."
Ursan would pull back for a second, dipping his hand under on the streams of energy pouring from the table. it wormed it's way between his fingers and across his rings, sinking deep into his gloves and then into his bones, where it would coil through like some sickly disease and prostrate itself, lounging like a parasite. He could see it, even then, and it felt the way it was when enough wine had worked it's way into the blood.
"It's black and white, Pendragon. That's it, that's it entirely. You are either living or you're not."
Ursan would push his skull closer to Hartia's again, until the scent of death was almost overpowering. It wasn't the tell-tale smell of decaying matter, or even one of the more nuanced things a person might describe as dead. He smelled more like an old tomb or bleached bones.
"Don't let your ignorance stop you. Learn to feel it, learn to understand that it's your opposite. It will come, child."
((Typing on something other than my tablet today.))
Lovi's curiosity faded. This was not some mysterious, reclusive admirer. Far from it.
"Well," she went about closing the room door casually, slowly just to grate against the request, "Aren't we being a bit dramatic?" She hadn't bothered to put on a sultry tone, though her voice was rich and deeply appealing in its own right. What seemed like it might have been a wistful, romantic affair turned sour almost immediately. Sour, mind you, was a far different atmosphere than bitter. Bitterness bred contempt and a silent sort of displeasure. Sour was more of a shock to the system that left you to wonder why you kept coming back to it, but the taste, despite its effect, was strangely alluring.
She crossed the room with a slow, stoic sort of grace. She took off her coat and left it to sit at the end of one of the beds. She was dressed in a more businesslike fashion, though it meant little in the pitch darkness. She couldn't see, but she heard her client well enough to discern his location and make her way in the general direction.
"Given the elaborate precautions you've taken, am I to assume that you would prefer to remain anonymous?" As though she wouldn't have known him from the moment she stepped through the door. Then again, the voice was different from last she'd heard it. Maybe the man behind it was different as well. "I can do that: pretend you aren't you." When she reached him, she placed a firm, but gentle hand on his shoulder. She then stepped close behind him, her breath like a ghostly touch over the back of his neck.
"I'm Sivak, but more importantly...... how did you teach this guy to do people things?"
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," said the monk. "My name is Tenkai. I am a monk."
And there he went again with the 3nodding face again, stating the obvious. Or at least what was most likely an obvious statement. People in Sigil came from all places on many different worlds and planes, so it wasn't completely safe to say that everyone knew a Buddhist monk when they saw one. In fact, there were a number of them who didn't even know what a Buddhist was. At the very least, the fact that he was a holy man was clear enough by the esoteric robes he wore. In the end, obvious statement was still obvious.
"Teach him? Oh no, I didn't teach him anything. He's a good bear. Manners are natural for him."
The panda laid down the tea cup he held in two hands and let out a short, inhuman burp that caused his fuzzy body to rumble. His muzzle was still wet with the tea he had just inhaled, but somehow it felt like if he had the ability to talk, he would've said "excuse me". Pandas were unusual creatures.
"So what brings you to the Cage? Or to this bar, for that matter? I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me if its a private matter."
No one necessarily needed a reason to be in Sigil. A good number of people who ended up in the City of Doors actually happened upon the city by accident. There were as many portals leading to the city as there were leading out of it, and some of them were safer than others. Tenkai would take a moment to size up Sivak as he spoke, making sure not to be too overt in his observation as to come off as nosy. The monk was mindful to be polite, but he was far too observant to not take in whatever details he could in order to get a better idea of where Sivak came from or who she was.
((Typing on something other than my tablet today.))
Lovi's curiosity faded. This was not some mysterious, reclusive admirer. Far from it.
"Well," she went about closing the room door casually, slowly just to grate against the request, "Aren't we being a bit dramatic?" She hadn't bothered to put on a sultry tone, though her voice was rich and deeply appealing in its own right. What seemed like it might have been a wistful, romantic affair turned sour almost immediately. Sour, mind you, was a far different atmosphere than bitter. Bitterness bred contempt and a silent sort of displeasure. Sour was more of a shock to the system that left you to wonder why you kept coming back to it, but the taste, despite its effect, was strangely alluring.
She crossed the room with a slow, stoic sort of grace. She took off her coat and left it to sit at the end of one of the beds. She was dressed in a more businesslike fashion, though it meant little in the pitch darkness. She couldn't see, but she heard her client well enough to discern his location and make her way in the general direction.
"Given the elaborate precautions you've taken, am I to assume that you would prefer to remain anonymous?" As though she wouldn't have known him from the moment she stepped through the door. Then again, the voice was different from last she'd heard it. Maybe the man behind it was different as well. "I can do that: pretend you aren't you." When she reached him, she placed a firm, but gentle hand on his shoulder. She then stepped close behind him, her breath like a ghostly touch over the back of his neck.
Dorry Bed and Breakfast - Guildhall Ward - Room 14
______Her hand would arrive upon a glass like substance that was unnaturally warm to the touch. It was a sensation that Lovi would know and remember well, as there was nothing in the multiverse quite like Isshouken, the crystal arm. This limb belonged to one man. Tresondros Ecstuffuan and it seemed that he had some explaining to do. He took a step back and as if in response to some striking emotion, the limb changed color slightly, emitting a emerald green glow that illuminated the room enough for them to finally see each other.
______He looked very tired. Magical healing never -set- in quite like natural healing did. So, by this point he had already taken to wrapping his previously perforated torso and his entire right hand from where he tore out the mutation with impromptu surgery with a crystal spike. His face was bruised, somewhat swollen, marring his distinctive but angular featured face. He hadn't bothered to change out of the undergarments of his work clothes. The black white beater of the UWP uniform and the beltless slacks revealed numerous scrapes and cuts along his right arm and shoulders where it was not outright bandaged.
______But even more than the obvious signs that Tresondros Ecstuffuan had just been in a fight, something no doubt Lovi was quite used to, was the look of something unfamiliar. She could see in his blue eyes something different indeed, something Lovi probably was good at noticing in men due to her profession. Tres was embarrassed. In that moment, she would recollect his boast in the past;
"Paying for Sex? what kind of ham and eggar Jabroni do you think I am?! The Main Man doesn't pay for a woman, I got a millions of fangirls waiting for a chance to ride bronco! There's no need."
______How wretched he looked for that moment, until he finally broke away from her gaze and walked around her to move to turn on the light and make sure that the door was locked. He was notably careful to approach the door in a way that would not reveal him through any apertures as he locked it thoroughly. He did not want to be found here. Not like this.
______As he moved he would say;
"Of course. This is to remain strictly confidential.", he said reflecting her tone.
As the Atmani's shield grew and turned into this fiery aura, his own shield began to tremble, though it remained in place. He could feel quite a bit of the heat, but knew that if he did not keep it up, he could be burnt badly. Her words he could hear perfectly, but it was getting hard to focus, so he took a few steps back. Petyr hoped that Baba would put an end to it, and so she did.
He was relieved when the fire ended and the magic was reduced to sparks and smokes, like a short-circuit. The vampire's own remained and he smiled, satisfied.
He watched as the Baba walked away and grabbed her staff to address the class. He dissipated the shield and listened attentively.
A fieldtrip? Sounded like fun. He beamed at the Baba and at his classmates around him, but did not say much, as he did not know any of them and did not feel like talking to Djadi just yet.
The one time Hartia truly died was in the comfort of Chartres Cathedral, however, a sort of divine intervention stopped him prior to crossing over. Holding him in a place between life and death until he chose which way he wished to go. And when he payed the price necessary, he was returned to life. So death, for what it was, was a feeling that to this day eluded him. He heard everything Ursan said, though he was silent. Even when Ursan snapped his bones in his ear, the Cambion merely shut his eyes, only shuddering for a moment when first exposed to the disgusting aroma that was the Lich King. In his own was, Ursan was still beautiful...handsome, but he simply smelled awful. Burning skin, hair, and blood, decay and decomposition, sewage, spoiled milk, rotten eggs....He could go on for days. Though he chose to fight past it, the smell actually creating a strong metaphor for the words he was hearing. Black and white, polar opposites. Ironically, he couldn't help but recall the saying that was most directly about magnets. Opposites attract.
You see that? That light bulb that just lit up over his head? Hartia suddenly understood. Life, life was a completely controllable substance, but death...Death was something you couldn't control, even in Ursan's condition. It was more like persuading or convincing was needed when working with Negative Energy, but with Positive Energy, you willed, commanded or told it what to do. A testament to which was the greater force. Suddenly, the energy quit producing from his hand, and the excessive amounts available would be recycled before wasted. As if the body was merely a sponge, the energies spilling all around it suddenly recoiled, sucking into the body rapidly where it would distribute evenly throughout it. The Cambion's eyes shot open as this happened, his emerald green iris' blotted out what could have been dilated pupil's eclipsing the iris'. He barred his fangs in a grin as his eyes narrowed on his work. Not perfect, far from it. Though this was a first attempt. Surely in a couple of weeks he'd have a much better understanding. Slowly the seal began to dim, and his eyes would be returning to normal. A single bead of swear rolled down his face as he felt the cold retreat from whence it came.
"My sincerest apologies, Lord Ursan."
He apologized for doubting Ursan's answer to his question. He could feel the Lich in his head, and he was sure the detail didn't evade him. Though if it escaped him why Hartia would apologize, he would not be offended nor wish to specify. He simply hoped Ursan would understand and accept it as it was. Finally, his left hand dropped to his side again. Though his eyes, they stayed locked onto the Dhampir. Half expecting her to wake up any moment now.
Hours after the conclusion at the Mage Guild, Lian was still not back to full health. She was miserable, curled into a ball in the corner of the chapel as others were taken away to near-by hospitals or released to finish their work. Slowly the numbers dwindled and soon she heard someone address her. "Let's get you home."A woman's voice sounded and through the haze in her eyes, Lian could only see just a black hooded figure. Death coming for her again? At this point she would probably welcome it if she hadn't already made such a promise to her spouse that they would see the end together. On their own terms. No one would take their lives until their bodies were ready to pass on naturally which for them would be still a long time off. Lian shifted stiffly as she was moved to be carried in the dark figure's back. Death was a woman?
A tall woman. Lian only remembered being so high off the ground when she was flying but this woman was fairly tall and walked quietly. Lian let her head rest on the shoulder, her head covered with the emergency blanket she had been given to keep warm after the disaster. She still felt nauseas and stuffy but the relief of going home was letting her doze off on the woman's back, not caring about the identity. The woman looked over her shoulder, smirked and kept on walking past the destruction site and toward the Dark Swan of all places. Kalmuli knew the place would be abandoned...apparently some vampire or goons at least had shot the place up. It would empty except for bodies but all she needed was Bravot's suite.
As she walked, Kalmuli kept her head low and Lian's head covered with the blanket. As they crossed from Ward to Ward, Kalmuli stopped in an alleyway for just a moment to make sure that she wasn't being followed. The streets were mostly empty after most were scared off by the chaos. She adjusted Lian on her back, stepping to leave but stopped when she saw a sack on top of the garbage with a bit of hair sticking out of it. Kalmuli stooped down a moment, balancing the matron on her back and examining what was inside. Most would cringe at the sight...but whoever murdered the little girl had given her an idea. Since the body was already damaged and coagulating, Kalmuli dragged the sack behind her as they headed to the Dark Swan.
The bodies had been cleaned up. No doubt by the city's body collectors who were paid to keep the streets clear of any plagues caused by the dead bodies. Kalmuli headed upstairs to the large suite, putting Lian down on the bed and getting to work on the girl in the sack. She was a pretty little thing with brown hair and couldn't have been older than seven or eight. The only ghastly part of her tiny body was the gaping knife wound in her neck that went from the back to the front. Whoever did it had no mercy or regret for killing children. Children were the most vulnerable entities in Sigil...Kalmuli had bore witness in her time before she became one of the Travelers, just how gruesome people could be to children. The sick twisting of the brain-slug infested child and the many bodies that were sagging and pale as they crawled around in the sewer was one of her least favorite memories from that time. Kalmuli could be cruel, but children...children didn't deserve this. They deserved long lives and when they're first born, they wove golden threads into their history until about the age of twelve. The girl had her life cut short in such a violent way...Kalmuli tutted and tossed the sack way, starting to undress the girl and move her over to the tub that started to fill up with warm water as it had before in her tryst with the Dragon Tonro.
Kalmuli lowered the child's body into the warm water, the color changing to red as blood seeped into the water. The Traveler woman removed her now wet coat, exposing her true appearance and the beautiful form of her body to the dim light. Kalmuli raised her shoulder-length gloved right hand, her exposed fingertips starting to glow. From them, green threads started to slowly drift, sinking down into the water and beginning the restitching of the child's life. The soul was long gone and devoured, but the child's body could be repaired and brought back from death. It would serve as the perfect, unfortunate vessel to house what she was going to do next when she was done. The child lay in the water like a infant water nymph, her hair floating around as Kalmuli's Life threads pulled her away from death's rot and into the breath of life. The little girl's body had undergone a transformation as well, her brown hair faded to white and slight points to her ears. The threads disappeared and Kalmuli removed the body from the tub, moving her tiny body over to the bed next to Lian who was unconscious from her illness.
The Goddess of Fates and the Eternal Bonds was a clever one. From her coat pocket she had tossed carelessly onto a chair, she removed a small glass orb. It was almost similar to how Ertai created the orbs inside the infiltrator's bodies out of the souls already inside, but this one was unique. It was an artificial soul, created to be the Lady of Rebirth. It held the mannerisms appropriate to the title and Lian's body that was touched with the Divine of her home world and the connection to the earth as an elemental served as a good host. Yet, it meant that the matron's soul would have to be removed from her body and preserved in a way. Which came to the easy part. Kalmuli clutched the orb in her hand, moving her hand over Lian's heart and pushing her hand down. It became like a black mist, soaking into every pore of the body and Kalmuli deposited the artificial soul inside. Lian stirred, in a great amount of pain with her hand coming to her heart, clutching her chest as Kalmuli started to gather the energy of the soul into her hand that was inside the old body of the elf, removing her hand with a violent pull that caused Lian to wake up with a scream, gasp and fell back lifeless against the mattress again.
Kalmuli looked at the green jewel of an orb. It felt...almost odd to be holding her own soul in her hand. She imagined it to be something fragile and broken like jagged pieces of glass but it was warm and smooth. In this orb held all of her memories, her experiences...all of what made her life before up until she was rescued by Kalar. Kalmuli turned the orb around in her hands, looking to the body of the child. She had changed it in order to trick to soul into think that it was it's original body and with possibly hundreds of white-haired elves in all of Gaia, no one would think any more of her. This new body was an orphan and would no doubt be a street rat once Kalmuli found a suitable place to dump her. Kalmuli placed the orb over the slow beating heart of the child's body and pushed it down with two of her fingers. The orb sunk in easily, the body glowing for a moment and a long exhale slipped from the small, rosy lips of the child...
The child who was now the three thousand year old Queen and mother.
Lian's body slept quietly, the artificial soul repairing the damage and the ailments from the fight with Ertai's Infiltrators and Sigil's polluted environment. "Good bye Queen...Hello Lady of Rebirth. Let's hope you can fix up the souls of Sigil before the Lady of Pain gets back, ne? A celebratory drink I think...then there's more work to be done."She sighed, turning on her heel and heading to the drink cabinet behind the desk, pulling out a glass and a bottle, sitting at the desk and pouring herself a round.
There was still the temple to build.
People to tempt.
A child's body to dump.
New clothes to make for a wardrobe appropriate for a new Lady.
All of this she had to do on her own too...Kalmuli poured the glass to the brim, stooping her head down to slurp it up and then down it quickly. "All work and no play makes a dull day...Where's Tonro or Bravot when you need them?"
[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!] ...Hurt you… []~O~[]
While it was true that Eric -could- have simply walked away, the Tiger within him would not allow it. The likelihood of being attacked while his back was turned, or even as he moved to pass the annoying p***k by, was too great. Flight was not an option...Jinsoku would have to leave, or else fight.
"Go home? What the ******** are you talking about? I was walking down the street and YOU got in my way...YOU attacked ME!"
He was whipping himself into a frenzy, and his aura seemed to swell with the intensity of his rage. The more he thought about it, and allowed it to settle, the more he realized that this a*****e had already gone too far.
Nobody fronted on Eric [********] Suyaa!
"Time's up...I've changed my mind..."
With a whip-like unfurling of his arm, he would cast his jacket aside; allowing it to collect in a heap upon a near-by bench. Both hands would then drift down to un-clasp, and don, his spiked knuckle-dusters.
On the tallest rooftop, a woman sat with her legs crossed gazing outward. She wore a white vest the fell into a cape over a white v-necked shirt that cut just above her chest, with lavender colored designs. The shirt itself was short sleeved revealing her alabaster arms. At her waist was a belt of lavender as well, it zig-zagged across her waist, and the color expanded onto her fitting black pants in symmetrical shapes across her outer thighs. There was also a trace of the soft color on her left pant leg near her ankle in a shape similar to a tribal drawn flower. Thick black boots sheltered her feet, but there was no lengthy heel to be seen, as if they were for practical use only.
From her head ran a river of silvery white locks. In the warm glow that was the Sigil light source, it's shine was dimmed in comparison with a sun. She didn't mind, as it didn't distract attention from her dark blue eyes as they looked upon the ruins of the Mage's Guild from a distance. It was a disaster from the wake off chaos that was seizing the city upon her arrival. Chaos she was used to, destruction and mayhem, she had seen her part of it. Lives lost. It was unfortunate. Yet it was also a fact of life. Chaos. Destruction. Death. At the thought, her eyes shifted over to Kali.
Her companion, a creature whose name meant death, sat on the ledge next to her. It seemed to be absently preening it's feathers, but on closer inspection, one of it's bright eyes were focused on the girl Hitomi next to it. Kali stopped her preening and her long neck swiveled to look at Hitomi. Scales and feathers shuddered for a moment before it released a cry. The sound was low, guttural, almost annoyed. At the size of a small dog she was dangerous, a predator. Yet as Hitomi smirked at the creature it spread it's massive wings, alighted and then landed on her shoulder where it sat comfortably.
The girls smiled and reached up to pet the creature's head causing a rumble and warmth to be emitted from it's chest. While it's eyes slid closed, her's turned back towards the Mage's Guild.
“Kali I think I know what we should do next. I'm starting to remember things, and I think I know why we're here.” The creature's purring became deeper and Hitomi's eyes became lidded a bit as her lips slowly parted.
“E's yfyga huf Li'k.”
The words, imbued with power, were spoken into the wind.
Now he was certain...Eric was lost. Somewhere inside all of that darkness, that chaos, was the real Eric. Maybe there was enough of him to salvage? Jinsoku understood this was a threat against his life, though he would try his damnedest to survive without having to kill Eric in the process.
Aura: Level One
Jinsoku begins to experience electrical pulses akin to miniature lightning strikes popping up in scattered portions of his body. A zap received from this electrical current is akin to that of a bug zapper. Causes first degree burns, mild pain, and mild numbing sensations. Must reach and maintain 10 Point minimum for Aura Level One to remain in play. At 15 Points, Jin gains the ability to generate claws of shaped plasma that float an inch off of the surface of the knuckles and are roughly six inches long. Each claw is akin to the big toe claw on a raptor. (5 Milliamps - Pain threshold, Muscular Contraction)
Suddenly he took swift long legged strides, mostly without disabling his stance, also without charging in recklessly fast. As he took to this forward motion random occasions of spark began to flash scattered about is body. It wasn't much, but it was a fitting metaphor to say this was the tip of the ice burg. If Eric didn't strike first, he would be met initially with a not so threatening right jab, aimed for that chin just like the pros did it. Planning on the punch failing, he was prepared to withdraw the fist days before he launched it. His speed and power in the least was comparable to the Earth famous Bruce Lee. He could only spike up from this minimum basis.
The surrounding crowd pushed further way from the two. Though Jinsoku was aware they could all be in grave danger, he wouldn't go out of his way to save them. If they were ignorant enough to stand around and watch, that was their choice. And their life was their responsibility. Some chick that thought Eric was super cute took his jacket and draped it around her shoulders before backing up some. Well if they wanted a show, they would surely get one. Today Sigil would learn first hand what happened when a wolf met a tiger in combat.
Roen frowned at these things. "I came, I threw lightning at him, he ran. I imagine he has crawled beneath into a hole, trembling in fear of the disappointment he kindled within this devil. I don't think we're like to see him again for sometime." He drew his hand away, looked at it for blood seeping through his jacket, found none. The arm dropped. "That's it. Out of respect for your father, I have humbled myself and explained my actions. I will leave now. Perhaps to get a drink, maybe to wring Tenkai Matsomoto's neck, I've yet to decide, but I will be leaving, Tresondros. Unless you and your brave, intrepid friends have an objection or two." He paused, lowering the lids of his eyes in a slow, deliberate blink. He hadn't done it once since he had caught the Chairman's eye, not for the entirety of the explanation. He did it now, adding inflection to the pause, that terrible, muted silence lives hinged on.
Whether the Devil realized it or not, Tenkai had been standing right there as he listened to Roen speak of his involvement in what had transpired. It was more than likely Roen was completely aware of it, with his words of hostility towards the monk being an expected part of his painfully appropriate "devil may care" attitude. He stood there, his hands balled into fists but not clenched in any sort of rage or prepared to strike. It would be unlike Tenkai to be so impulsive as to take the bait like any easily-angered human. This was not to say he was any more pleased with the situation than Roen seemed to be, though much of the monk's displeasure at that moment seemed to be focused on the devil. His mouth was flattened into a hard line, his jaw as firm as his brow as the monk cast his adamant gaze in the direction of the Devil and the Psion he was speaking to. From here, Tenkai could see that Tres was no less thrilled by what had transpired, either, though there was something about the way Tres referred to Sigil as "my city" that felt...uneasy. It was not so much an incorrect statement as it was the general implication of his words. For a moment, it felt like a glimpse of things to come, and the weight of the realization that the battle was not yet over dragged against Tenkai's weary soul.
Roen's marginally complicit nature in this entire catastrophe alone should have been enough justification for Tenkai to take his head right then and there. The amount of lives that could have been spared such horrible fates had Roen put aside whatever selfish desires motivated him and put a stop to this madness before it even began. On the other hand, such a cruel punishment was probably ill-fitting for what was ultimately a result of Roen doing nothing at all. It was still wrong, but not as bad as it would've been if he actively conspired with the invaders. Not to mention the fact that without Roen's aid, many more lives would've been lost to the colossal infiltrator's onslaught.
At the same time, in doing this Roen had nearly caused a much bigger catastrophe than the one they were already facing. The warp predators were bad enough, preying mercilessly upon the souls of the just defenders who had given their lives to protect the city. They even posed a threat to Tres, a psion who was just as much a construct of thought as he was flesh and blood. As capable as the son of Sieg Ecstuffuan was, he lacked the faith of his father, and as such his powerful mind was as vulnerable to the predations of the Warp as a hearty slab of meat was to a pack of wolves. Had Tenkai not intervened when he had, the sheer magnitude of unfettered psychic power Roen put into use would have ended up tearing a hole in reality itself, leaving them at the mercy of whatever incarnate daemon that managed to pierce through the veil into realspace. Even with James Eredas and himself in the area, daemons were not some simple trifling matter, and dealing with them on top of everything else would have turned this catastrophic encounter into an absolute disaster.
That alone should've been more than enough reason for Tenkai to do something, and yet he did not. The truth of the matter was that the monk was a defender and protector, rarely an avenger and never an executioner. With the battle ended for now, fighting Roen would do nothing but further the bloodshed on what was already a day filled with carnage and death. Roen's motives were selfish and held callous disregard for the innocent, but he wasn't actively trying to destroy Sigil. What point would there be in fighting now after the fact?
So now, much like his encounter with Dzan Streea alongside Lokas back in Durem, the best option was to let the weary devil leave without any further quarrel with the equally weary defenders. From the looks of things, Tres felt the same way.
Tenkai did not make any move, nor did he speak any word in response to Roen's pondered threat. It was clear that the pain of Tenkai's scolding shout had left the devil wracked and vexed, even if it didn't do nearly as much damage as the Warp had done. Things of such holy and exorcising nature were anathema to creatures born of chaos and shadow, and the monk was audacious enough to have dared use it against Roen. Yet Tenkai had done it for the sake of those that had fallen and those who still continued to fight. In the end, they had still triumphed. In the end, as Roen had eloquently put it, Sigil survived. Tenkai would rather die taking the monster down with him than survive only for the innocent to succumb to further horrors. It was something the Devil would not understand.
No, that was not it. He was smart enough to understand it perfectly. Perfectly foolish.
If Roen was so adamant on wringing Tenkai's neck, it was there for him to take. The monk would make no move to offer it to him, but he did not retreat as Tres had. He simply stood there, looking at the Devil with those hardened, human eyes as if they were locked onto Roen without actually fixating on him at all. It would feel as if Tenkai was looking through him rather than at him.
Meanwhile, inside Tenkai's mind
Tenkai's Ego had fallen silent. This was not a time for compassion. Few were still alive to receive it.
"I should've known he was tied up in this mess," said his Superego, bearing the same face that Tenkai wore outwardly at that present moment. "I had a bad feeling about his involvement the moment I saw him here. Devils tend to be selfish creatures that care more for their own benefit than the lives of those around them. To just think of all the people that could have been spared if he had just..."
"Oh, thank goodness the horror is all over!" said Tenkai's Id, somewhat unsusually.
"What's the matter?" replied the Superego, "Still shaken from the Warp? It was painful for me too, but..."
"What? Oh, heck no. I'm just glad he put on some clothes! Eugh! If he had turned around all the way, we would've seen his-"
*WHUD*
Superego was in no mood, and would gladly vent his frustrations by clobbering his brother.
"...hgnk...I mean...maybe I'll recover if we can find Hoshiko and-"
*WHAM*
"...or like...what about Gloria and the sorceress? Maybe they need some-"
*WHACK*
"...there was a succubu-"
*WHUP*
".....the General?"
*BIFF*
The last strike had come from Tenkai's Ego, in a manner that was very uncharacteristic for the normally docile facet of the monk's psyche. It seemed that after all that just happened, even he didn't have time for this crap.
Come to think of it, Tenkai could have swore he saw General Kanzaki in the area as well. It was then that the monk remembered what Raven had spoken to him about nearly a month or so ago back at the Malevolence of Innocence. She had wanted him to aid her and the UWP in battling the threat of a "renegade god", and now Roen had spoken of "godlings" and the like, even so far as to giving him a name; Ertai. Somehow the name seemed familiar to Tenkai, but he couldn't remember where he had first heard it or why it sounded so familiar. It seemed to hearken back to his now almost distant memories of fighting alongside Tresondros' father in the days following Tenkai's first travels upon the world of Gaia. Was this "Ertai" the man-...the "god" responsible for this? Was this the force that Raven had asked him to aid the UWP against?
He would need to speak to her later, though settling to speak with "The Main Man" himself would probably be more than enough for Tenkai until he got that chance. For now, however, Tenkai would stand as silently as a statue as he waited for Roen to take this window of amnesty and depart before he took the time to speak to Tresondros.
Redwing knew what she was planning to do was dangerous and possibly the thing that would make her already expected short life span even shorter but she was at the end of her rope. Was that what this city turned people to? No, Redwing didn't think it was Sigil. It was those people who filled her life with promise and failed to live up to them. Her mother failed her.
Redwing closed her eyes and paused for a moment in her searching. Her anger wad bringing tears to her eyes. No, she wouldn't let the failure of her mother to pull her down. If this path she was going to travel on was going to lead to her death, she was going to enjoy herself while she could. No more thinking of her mother and false promises.
Redwing made a promise to herself. She was going to make a better life for herself. No matter what she had to do.
The secrecy seemed a little unnecessary. They had, after all, caused a bit of a public scene not long before then. What exactly did he expect to hide that the world wasn't already painfully aware of? Was he afraid that if the public eye focused too hard they'd see through his very obvious facade? Lovi didn't know. For the moment she didn't care. Briefly, she wondered if any goodbye was final, given that each time they said it seemed to shorten the length between their hellos.
"Because you're a very discrete man. I understand." she replied with no lack of sarcasm. She was enjoying the blow to his ego maybe a bit too much, but that was not to say the affair was an entirely pleasant one. He was very different from what he had been, and she didn't like that.
"Just relax. It's not as though we've never done this before... Unless, of course, we haven't, in which case I may not have come prepared." She was trying to make it casual, comfortable. The tension was familiar in a way. New clients were always a little nervous, but Tres was hardly a stranger to the experience. She sat at the end of the bed with her legs crossed and watched him move about the room in an embarrassed frenzy.
Kalmuli had figured out that it would be some time before Bravot would even come back to the Dark Swan. No Biggie. Not like she wanted to do anything fun...She looked over to the two bodies on the bed, the child who slept fitfully and the older elf who was very still as the body was being repaired. The child she needed to get rid of before she woke up. Kalmuli finished her last glass and got up, retrieving her now dry coat. There would be Enforcers still about trying to maintain organization within the destroyed wards but someone like Kalmuli could easily walk by them. She picked up the child, wrapping her small body in a blanket and carrying her out of the Dark Swan. The Guildhall was just far enough that she could toss her anywhere and either she would be swallowed by the city or rescued. Either way, She stood with the tiny body in her arms and set her down in an alleyway almost like she was a child who had stopped to sleep after running around. Kalmuli took only a moment to put her hand through the now white hair of the child, her palm glowing and a seal appearing on the back of the girl's neck. It would prevent Lian's soul from trying to leave the body and from others trying to fix what she had done.
At least for now anyway.
What would be the point of this was easy?
Kalmuli walked away, leaving the trapped Lian in a seven year old's body in the dangerous streets of Sigil while she went to tend to the Lady of Rebirth back at the Dark Swan. It would be some time before the Lady would awaken to begin her crusade, but it gave her time to finish some final touches. In the Ladies Ward, the plot of land that was the old Feaorne Manor that had burned to the ground would serve it's purpose. Plus, having the lab below would suit her needs just fine as well so long as no one else remembered it was there. Doubtful though. There were only two others in Sigil who were non-family who were aware of it and from what she concluded they were either in hiding or living in the stadium.
Kalmuli made her way to the Ladies Ward to start the formation of the Temple of Rebirth.
Lian felt heavy...It was like an uncomfortable weight was attached to her arms and legs, making her feel like waking up was like being bound to the floor. She could barely open her eyes, coughing and reaching up to her throat to rub it. It was sore and raw. She looked up from where she was, reaching a hand up to the blanket that was over her head before she caught the sight of what appeared to be her hand...but it was tiny.
She turned it over and over again. It was so tiny! What the hell?! Lian threw the blanket off of her head looking at both of her hands, then her feet and her short little legs. Feeling around the blanket, her clothes were missing too. All she had was the blanket. She started hyperventilating, hearing the higher pitch of her voice and the tenderness there. What had happened while she was asleep? Was it a spell? Lian gathered the blanket, making a small toga about her smaller frame and moved into the streets, her feet dragging at first until she could make her way to a window. When she saw her reflection, she screamed. "AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! What the hell?!"She screamed, patting her hands around her face and looking at her arms. She examined her neck, seeing a thin scar there and panted as she looked around. Everything was so much bigger. People were so much taller and the buildings looked like they went on forever at this height.
"I don't...How...Someone! Anyone!"She said, running around. She bumped into the first pair of legs she could grab, shaking the fabric of their pants. "Please! You have to help me! I don't know what's going on!"
They shook their leg, kicking her way. Lian grew more scared as she approached people on the street, looking up and begging for any help she could get. Someone had to know what happened to her! Was it something Ertai did? What if it was backlash from the tornado she made around the barrier?
....What if this was permanent?
Tiny Lian sat down on a pile of rubble, looking down at her tiny and now dirty hands. She was starting to feel the emotions of a child...scared. Lost. She wanted to cry her heart out until she couldn't anymore and scream until something happened. She rubbed her eyes, looking up to the Torus and trying to figure out where she was first off. She couldn't see the Fal'lain Corp building nor the Library from her low vantage point. Her small stomach growled and she wrapped her arms around it to try and silence it. How long had it been since she ate? How long had she been like this? Lian sniffed. "What if no one believes who I am? I don't know if I can use my magic...or the Anahata in this form...I have no weapons. I might as well be a flea to anyone I try to fight...and I'm at risk out here. I have to find someone to stick with or some place to hide. At least until I can recover fully...There has to be someone bleeding heart enough to get me food and let me hang around them long enough..."She thought. At least her mind worked like an adult's. She needed to survive through this and she had to use this form in whatever advantage it had...
