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 Posted: Sat Feb 28, 2009 4:50 pm
The sun was now low in the horizon, stars barely reaching the dark alleyways of downers. Small barrel fires and electric devices flickered pathetically in windows and on the streets, illuminating the dank walls and dismal faces of the downers.
One building, however, was devoid of light. It wasn’t needed, nor wanted-- Ciro knew that light would only alert others that someone had heat or electricity in a home-- and that usually gained the attention of those who wanted to warm their frozen bones for a while. And so, in order to avoid the attention, there was a lack of fire in his home.
The only bone that Ciro would warm would be his own, thank you very much.
Tonight was peaceful. The fun from his outing with Vale had worn off, leaving him with a quiet half-content. He felt restless-- but at the same time, he didn’t want to move from his claimed chair. The laziness was strong within him. It melted together into a strange feeling that he couldn’t put into words.
He had planned on a quiet night: waiting for Vale to come back, to start getting some work done. It seemed that the way to build character was to sit idly while a Russian kid made sure that you had everything you could ever need in life. If that was building character, Ciro wouldn’t mind doing it for the rest of his life.
And there was an added bonus-- Shamash seemed to think of these actions as growth, and seemed to be getting ever so slightly warmer towards his Godling. He now grunted replies when Ciro had questions about the game or his alliances.
Very slowly, but without any effort, it seemed to Ciro that he was getting exactly what he wanted.
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Posted: Sat Feb 28, 2009 9:30 pm
It wasn't too hard to find Ciro Hammurabi, thought Anubis. Just follow the trail of destruction. Gallows humor - it was a death god thing. Not that he was looking forward to delivering this message. He still wasn't quite sure how he would do it. There really wasn't a good way.
The only reason he felt compelled to tell Ciro at all was because of his history with the girl. Anubis wouldn't blame Ciro if he resented the jackal god: it seemed that every time they met, Anubis was forced to take something away from him. At this point, of course, Echo was probably far away from the City, reacquainting herself with the local psychopomp. But it didn't make his job any easier. Soon the police would find the body, and then they would be out of time.
His quest for the boy took him into a pitch-dark building. He followed Ciro's power signature into a series of rooms.
"Ciro?" he called. "Ciro Hammurabi, you are hereby summoned by the referee of the Game."
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Posted: Sat Feb 28, 2009 10:00 pm
s**t.
s**t s**t s**t.
Why the hell was he getting called now? Now, when he was in a good mood. What a killjoy!
Was he being pulled out of the game? That was what Anubis had said the first time that they had met, that should they ever meet again in the game, it would be because he had lost.
But everyone was still playing-- there was no reason to go and stop the game.
Pulling himself up from his chair, he was up. Not gracefully, or courteously, no-- but he was up. And from there, he only had to take a few steps to hone in on the location of the man.
Well, hell, he had to do something. The guy knew he was here already.
“Yea, yea,” He nodded, his tone as if he was being nagged by a parent, “I’m here.”
And then, in a flash, flames had begun to lick around his raised arm. The light flickered over his face and danced on his horns, causing shadows to play on the assorted furniture.
This, of course, was simply out of kindness to the God-- it made no difference to Ciro either way.
“You here to tell me that I’m out?”
God, he hoped not. He was finally starting to get interested in the game again.
But really, logically, there wasn’t anything else it could be.
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Posted: Sat Feb 28, 2009 10:15 pm
Ciro had drawn the wrong conclusion, although Anubis couldn't blame him. That had been his warning when they first met, hadn't it? So this was where the boy had been keeping himself.
"It's not that you're out," said Anubis. "It's that someone else is. Please come with me, if you will."
He reached through space, through the flames - fire couldn't ward off death - and took Ciro by the wrist. He turned in Space. The shadows grew long and suddenly they were surrounded by a different scene all together.
If Ciro read the alleyway, he would catch glimpses of terror, of a large, feral animal, and of the dead girl in the corner, her long dark hair matted with blood.
"I'm sorry," said Anubis. For a Death god, his condolence was surprisingly sincere.
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Posted: Sat Feb 28, 2009 11:21 pm
Ciro couldn’t possibly imagine who in the game Anubis thought he cared enough about to bring him there just to kick the kid out. But if he had to take even the vaguest of guesses, he’d have thought that he’d be brought to Fish.
Fish, probably just kicked out of the game for being too passive, or something like that.
He was unable to ask who he was going to see, however, as a large hand had clasped onto his wrist.
For someone so close to the light, being engulfed by pure shadows was a strange type of experience. Ciro wished to rip himself free from this darkness-- to escape from their corrupting tangles, but at the same time, he resolve kept him in check. He knew Anubis would not trick him-- he just had to trust the referee.
And, after something so unsettling as being wrapped in darkness, he found himself needing to stabilize his shaken body. A naked hand reached out, planting against a dirty brick wall.
That’s when it hit him.
The dropped flower.
The footfalls.
Her hurried pace.
The flutter of her hair as she spun around.
The smell of the creature’s breath as it descended on her.
The warm feeling as her blood rushed from her throat.
And then, as if all the images collided together, he saw her form. Amongst the dirt, leaves, and bits of broken terra cotta-- all of these things seemed to be together in a dried puddle of blood. Her hair, matted and dirty, spread about her angelic face almost like a dark halo, her eyes closed and expression one that he could almost describe as peaceful.
Somehow, by some strange chance, it was the beauty of the girl that he noticed before his attention drifted to her throat.
A place where he had once planted the most voracious of kisses was now torn apart by another’s mouth. The shoulders which had fit so perfectly into his hands were now scratched to bits. This body, which had been one with his own, had now been mauled beyond recognition.
It was too viscous to be just a murder… Whoever did this to her, he wanted her to suffer.
He had to distance himself from the sight-- there was no way he could bear it any longer. Tearing his hand form the wall, he held it close to his chest, the other gripping it as if it might try to reach for that wall once more-- to try to show him more of that horrible vision.
Chocking back, he couldn’t find the strength to reply to the death God. He couldn’t find the strength to cry. He couldn’t even find the strength to stand, his legs bucking under him as he fell to his knees.
But the images only poured forth once more, his bare knee coming into contact with the cold, bloodied cement. Her clothes, tattered and bloodied, the flowers that had fallen onto her body, his armband, now shining dully in the cool night light.
She was still wearing that thing?! He had even forgotten that he had given it to her. She had been there, walking down the street, with his armband… Now that he thought of it, she had been wearing it under the dock as well… The dock… He had said he would protect her. He said he wouldn’t let anything happen to her--
“DAMNIT!!!”
A fist slammed against the concrete, thudding alongside the raspy cry of the man.
“GOD DAMNIT!!!”
He pounded at the ground once more, slamming down on the concrete with all of his might.
How could this have happened? How could he have let it happen? He said he was going to protect her-- he was suppose to protect her!
And yet he failed--again! Was he doomed to lose everyone, one by one, until there was no one left?!
Choking back once more on a series of lung-wrenching coughs, his entire body shook with effort. Choking, gasping for air, he finally regained himself, though his whole body continued to tremble.
But he couldn’t cry.
Why couldn’t he cry?
He was sad, wasn’t he? He felt loss over Echo!
So why wasn’t he crying!?
His fist slammed down once more, beating into the pavement with a weakened force.
“Damnit…”
He repeated once more, his voice weak and torn. He had been broken.
“Damn….it….”
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Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2009 7:20 am
Anubis said nothing. He let the boy rage. He let the boy grieve. There was something about watching grief as it happened that made the god ache - he had been admitting souls into the underworld for millenia. He could not feel pain or loss. When you were a death god, no one was truly gone.
His keen hearing picked up a siren racing through the zone. Finally, Anubis intervened. He put a hand on Ciro's shoulder. It was an almost paternal gesture, but he knew trying to behave fatherly towards the boy was pointless. Only Abbot could do that, and Abbot was wandering the realms of the dead now.
"Ciro," he said, "We should go. The police will be here soon."
He swallowed and looked at the armband the girl wore.
"If there's anything you need to retrieve from her, you should do it now."
Technically, it was a bad idea to touch a murder victim, but Anubis could remove fingerprints if need be.
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Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2009 11:59 am
He knew… that he had to be responsible. He knew that he’d have to leave the body, erasing all ties that he had with the girl.
If the City found her like this, with a Godling’s possessions on her, it would only cause trouble for everyone.
But more importantly… If the City found his armband on her… She’d be taken to the Blacksuit’s headquarters. And that….
That was something too enraging for Ciro to even think about.
In a moment of sheer, cold decision, his hand quickly snatched pack his armband.
He had already turned around before the sound of her cold hand falling back onto the pavement had reached his ears.
“Let’s just go.”
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Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2009 12:16 pm
Anubis magically wiped the scene of any trace of their presence and placed a hand on Ciro's shoulder again, but it wasn't patronizing this time. It was the same teleportation skill he shown off earlier. In a swirl of shadows, they were back in the darkness of Ciro's new lair.
Again, Anubis said, "I'm sorry, Ciro."
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Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2009 12:25 pm
Words had no meaning. Nothing that Anubis could say would alleviate Ciro’s sufferings.
Even apologizing for something he didn’t do? It just irritated Ciro even more.
“Don’t.”
He footfalls could be heard as he began his trek into his home.
“Just don’t.”
There was nothing that could be said.
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