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 Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2016 6:44 am
 The converging point between the geographical region of Amaranthine and the geographical region of Val'Ghast; it lays on the outskirts of a populous Kevai city known as Seldar.
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Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2016 6:56 am
Considering he and Amias had reined in Val'Ghast, at least partially, it was part of Adriel's obligation to ensure that things in Val'Ghast went smoothly. Lately, there had been reports from the border city of Seldar of earthquakes consistently that had only been getting worse in magnitude. They began in the 3's, and the last one had been in the high 6's. The fault line was very clearly agitated, and considering the great Dragon City of Mor Dulgyr was nearby, an earthquake on a massive scale would not only cause deaths within the dragonic community of Val'Ghast but also agitate the beasts to the point of attacking their Aramilian neighbors. Adriel did not wish for this outcome, and so as the strongest Electromagnetic around, he determined that he would repair the grievances with the Amarantine Fault and lay this issue to rest.
Except, the issue did not come from the fault, he quickly came to discover. There was something else happening here - something magical, energy seeping into the earth and irritating the fault awry. He imagined it could be another electromagnetic, which was awkward as a possible reality, as he would either have to incapacitate or kill them. Another possibility was some creature trying to spark conflicts within both of the nearby settlements, possibly having them war with one another. Most monsters of Val'Ghast did not approve of allowing the humanoid population on their border to grow. It only meant they'd be hunted and purged later so that the Aramilians could expand their dominion into Val'Ghast. Of course, Adriel understood these feelings, but he considered monsters to be unworthy savages and so merely ignored the complaining and the tensions. He preferred the current upswing of Kevaian colonies, and so determined that conflict between the fairly peaceful colonials and the aggravated dragon-folk was something he would like to prevent.
Sadly, though, an entire day of investigation led to nothing. The man retired to the lobby where he'd been renting his hotel room, his back against a smooth leather couch as images flashed across a screen in front of him: information. News. About the war with the angels, the demons, all that. Most people in the world had started to realize that the real enemies were the ones from above and below, and so you could see Aramilian newspapers advocating for the success of Lumirian battallions against demon infiltrators. You could see Elves in Kusana rooting for humans over the angels who came to dictate them. It was an oddly refreshing turn of events, although conflict only continued to increase in gravity . . . and virulence.
"Adriel, ser, shall you be retiring to your room any time soon? The staff retires from the lobby at 10 PM sharp, and we wouldn't like to leave you so unattended." The receptionist asked. A doe-eyed blond man with a bright smile. The Diabolos grinned. "Unless the assailant is a relative of Kala's, I think I shall be able to handle myself against any unfortunate company that springs about. But thank you . . . and I hope you have a good night." He nodded his head, and waved his goodbyes. Ah, Aramilians, he remarked. So polite.
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Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2016 3:04 pm
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Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2016 9:18 pm
All seemed quiet and relatively tame. The man had isolated himself to the back of the lobby, reading upon the bestiary that this hotel had kept in its reserves, sipping some antique wine that came forth from the early colonial vineyards here. Before long, all of the things he'd wanted to accomplish while silently reading and sitting about had been at least partially accomplished. The bestiary was useful but not as comprehensive as a military grade document. He had begun to return to his room, and then he was bumped on the shoulder by a man. He quickly sprang to apology, sorry, he said, I'm so sorry. All Adriel could think was: what for? He didn't mind something so innocent. He even quickly made sure to check his pockets and examine his body with his EM field to be sure the man didn't do anything dubious in that momentary physical exchange. As far as he could tell, it was an innocent mistake.
He easily returned with words of forgiveness. "It's okay. It was just a bump on the shoulder," he muttered a laugh. But, oddly, the man did not merely relent after apologizing. His hands went for Adriel's shoulder again, and this time they remained. He could feel a strange relaxation at the contact. The tension and relative awkwardness of the situation disappeared, and he merely stared at the man in front of him as a result. Hi . . . that's a sight, the man said. While initially he couldn't quite understand his strange words, his impression changed; memories began to flow into him, of a particular fateful moment a long time ago. Memories of a man he'd met that greatly intrigued him, on the very day that Adriel - back then Brydent - had assassinated one of his greatest political enemies. This man, too, was running from something he'd done back then. They were both unseen fugitives.
He felt comfort at seeing these memories again, though a part of him felt reluctant to attach these thoughts to the man in front of him. This person appeared differently than 'Max' did all that time ago. Then again, wasn't he a shifter? Information about the race was highly sparse. Encounters with people of that blood were infinitely rare, and more often than not, you wouldn't think anything particular of these meetings even if asked. Honestly, if not for the refresher, he wouldn't have known that the man in front of him was the one from before. It was like the images and the words escaped his mind. Where did they go?
"Kieran?" he asked. The name felt out of place. "Weren't you . . . " he bit his lower lip. He couldn't actually remember his original name, although it had been there just a moment ago. It vanished before he could say the word. "Well, nevermind that. Strange coincidence. If it is that." He couldn't help but wonder if the man had come here particularly for Adriel, given the circumstances. After all, he was different than he used to be. His hair had paled, he had grown more muscular, his name and identity had changed dramatically. For Kieran to recognize him despite the differences, he must have set Adriel to his focal point. Now the question was: why?
"So . . . Kieran." I think. "Why did you want me again? Sorry. You've kind of put me off guard here." The Shifter had contacted him, reminded him of lost memories, and revealed a different identity: a new self. He felt overwhelmed, honestly. He couldn't really take in all of this information at once with a clear head, especially considering that at least somewhere in his conscious mind, he actually came to worry for the shifter, a worry that followed him since they'd met and occassionally set-in in his post-conscious thought, always to his confusion. Seeing him here like this was relieving - it set that worry, which had continued to accrue, to rest. But still, he couldn't help but wonder: why did they continue to meet in the strangest of places, and why did he have such a hard time remembering him once he'd gone? He didn't want that phenomenon of lost memories again. This time, he hoped to burn the name 'Kieran' into his mind.
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Posted: Mon Jun 27, 2016 3:42 am
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Posted: Mon Jun 27, 2016 5:01 am
Adriel couldn't help but stare observantly at the Shifter as he spoke. While he wasn't acting entirely disorderly from his first impression, something about Kieran felt strangely... off. And a part of him was perplexed at the same time - why didn't he remember him until now, and why did a single touch bring forth droves of memories? He couldn't understand. Then words came. In particular, he latched onto 'I could have let you move on, but I can't.
Could have let you move on . . . Those words felt very odd to him. He ruled out that it was simply poetic speech, considering Kieran seemed more serious right now than he outwardly appeared. Those words meant something. What did they mean? "You . . ." Before he could say anything, the Shifter spoke again. His hand still remained on Adriel's shoulder. It was a soft touch, and it relaxed him somehow. He didn't really mind the contact, as Kieran had always appeared to be a sweet and genuine person. People like that were rare, if not extinct, in Nocturne. Meeting this individual, as fleeting as his appearances had been, was a refreshing change that diverged from the general atmosphere.
The words he spoke were not refreshing, though. In actuality, they were saddening. His theory was confirmed: people forgot this man when he had gone. Adriel remembered that day, after Kieran had left, that he couldn't even remember what he'd done before arriving back at Luimira. He remembered the train, but not that he'd spent hours talking to someone, enjoying himself and laughing like he hadn't done in quite some time. The man was goofy, but also very charming. He felt like something had been ripped out of him after the memory faded, and it took weeks for him to finally accept that he was simply 'imagining it'. But that wasn't true, really. There was someone, it was just that they faded from thought. And wasn't that a tragedy? To be forgotten once you'd gone? He could only grimace as the other man spoke, not out of anger, but an empathy. "I did remember you, Kieran. I didn't remember your name, or even your face, but I remembered . . . your presence, in a way." He almost tensed at saying that. It felt almost wrong to quantify it that easily. He couldn't describe the feeling. It was so strange. It was bewildering and empty and foreign. "I missed you." That was the closest word he could find to the feeling. It was akin to missing someone, to wishing you could see them again.
The Shifter seemed honestly quite melancholy. He seemed saddened and like he needed to explain himself - like he was trying to ensure that Adriel didn't get angry with him and yell him off or something. He explained that he didn't want a pity party, but very humbly asked to just allow him the time of day. He wondered if many people had been crude to Kieran before; the way he was acting was similar to the experience of talking to someone who was forlorn and often rejected. Honestly, he did pity him in a way. To live a life of being forgotten, of always having to explain yourself, of having a static identity . . . that was very sad. The man tried to smile, to reassure him. He wasn't going to say no, especially with all they needed to catch up on.
"We can spend as much time as you'd like," he said, grabbing Kieran's hand before it returned to his side and squeezing it. "It's good to see you again. Forgive me if I seemed shocked. Honestly, I was relieved. I don't forget very easily. Not being able to remember someone I got on with so well was very bothersome to me. I won't forget you again." As for whether or not he'd gotten in trouble for killing his rival . . . well. "I had it in good with the King, and I was pivotal to the death of Zachariah. I was never court marshalled, and I would've likely been forgiven regardless. The man was a blight to our war effort. He valued cruelty over efficiency. I see no reason to rape, reave and torture the people of Kusana after we've already won the fight."
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Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 3:34 am
More often than not, the people who forgot about Kieran would go on and move on with their lives without the slightest inkling of knowledge about the person they were subconsciously missing. The first time he parted ways with Alex was tough, and she came back speaking of a man she fell in love with. It was at that moment that Kieran chose to keep her in the dark about their friendship. While he could not stand the idea of going on without her, she already proved that she was happy. Like a stranger who randomly sat down next to her and began talking to her, he gave her the advice to go to this man's home and confess her feelings. He had even met the man she felt she was destined to be with, once. How is it possible to look at the man who inherently stole the love of your life without telling him to back off? The life of a Shapeshifter was a lonely one, but Kieran didn't regret his abilities at all. This life takes a certain amount of emotional stability, and sometimes a friend is needed. It was Kieran who made the mistake of falling in love with Alex, so he hurt himself.
Looking up at Adriel, the Shifter saw tidbits of a pity party beginning to start. This happened every time he told someone what happened when he left someone's sight. "Hey! No one likes a pity party. I have fun everyday. Maybe it isn't a full blown party like everyone else, but I still get to get away with a lot of silly stuff!" It was very much true. Kieran slept with nearly whoever he wanted to with absolutely no strings attached, he often received everything he wanted, and he happened to be a damn good fighter. The combination was enough to live a good of a life as anyone. "Yeah, I'm not that interesting of a person, so people tend to forget about me. It happens a lot, but it's okay! You can forgive yourself for forgetting my name!" As casually as he had put things, they weren't nearly as such. Much of his earlier days were spent living in so much anger that it almost blinded him at one point. He took someone's form and tried to make people appreciate him more while living another life. "But I'm glad that you got off easy for taking out the trash!"
Elated, for no other reason than for just having someone to talk to, Kieran quickly embraced Adriel, then proceeded to step back just as fast as it had all started. "Me? I've been keeping tabs on this place since you guys decided to colonize the place. I know about your friend. The handsome, dark one. Not a lot happens around here without whispers being sent down the grapevine. Your friend is... changing a lot of things." Val'Ghast was his first and true home. Little was done here without him knowing about it. "The fault line here has become unstable." It wasn't even a question; it was an observation. An empty one.
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Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 5:41 am
He merely stared at the man as he very clearly requested that Adriel try to not pity him too much, although in a lighthearted manner. The man casually smiled in return, although he took the message as it was given. "Yeah. Sorry." He rubbed the side of his head and regained his composure. Still, he couldn't help but laugh as Kieran dismissed being forgotten as him simply 'not being very interesting'. This guy always seemed to manage to obscure everything into humor, which was a trait he enjoyed to be around. "Alright," he said, lightly laughing, "I forgive myself for forgetting your name. Happy?"
Shortly afterwards, the Shifter embraced Adriel tightly, but quickly, and just as quickly reeling back. Before he completely pulled away though, the Lumirian kept a grip on his shoulder and stopped him. "Hey!" He grabbed him by the back and twirled him around before letting him go, swinging him up in the air, mostly for the sake of irritating him, for Adriel's own amusement of course. "That's more like it," he laughed, then let Kieran stand straight and gather himself before subjects eventually changed. "Amias? He's not that handsome, is he?" The man shrugged. He supposed in some way he was, if you liked an aged sort of attraction. He was, after all, over eight-hundred years old. He had wisdom in that pale, pasty carcass he lived inside.
"As for his policy, well... we're both changing a lot. Amias is possibly the oldest monster alive. There may be older, but I don't know of them. As such, he is fit to rule the Kingdom of Monsters, but with a clause: he and I both believe in civilization over chaos. If the monsters of Val'Ghast ever want to escape the cycle of existing just to kill pitchfork-wielding village men and twelve year old girls, they should accept the changes we're bringing." He was very passionate when it came to leadership and policy, and so Kieran struck an important chord with his mention of he and Amias' change of structure in Val'Ghast. "For example . . . this city, Seldar. We compelled the dragons to stop trying to raze it whenever they get bored. As a result, they aren't dying to Aramilian soldiers, and the city is prospering. I prefer that kind of world to the old one."
He paused for a moment, realizing he was growing too preachy. He returned to merely replying to what Kieran had brought up. "And for the fault line," he started. The man crossed his arms and put on a look as if pondering. He had some theories as to what was happening. He was a fairly renowned seismologist based purely on his mastery of his bloodline, and yet this issue was particularly confusing, even for one of his expertise. "Well... I have a theory. I think the fault line is being aggravated by an enchantment of some sort. Probably set up by one of my people, the Diabolos. They're trying to spark unrest in this region." Which was, of course, something they would pay dearly for if they were found. If they were a Diabolos, they were likely Lumirian. If they were Lumirian, they were supposed to assist with Adriel's projects, not attempt to dismantle them.
"Judging by the energy signature, the root of the seismic activity is some sort of series of waves originating from the forests of Val'Ghast. I was going to go there next, but... I mean, that can wait I suppose." He didn't want to ditch Kieran, but he did want to settle this matter. He wondered if the Shifter was suitable for combat, or if he was mostly an assassin-type individual. Shifting identities seemed useful in some situations, but he didn't know the extent of how far he could alter himself. He didn't want to bring him into the fray if it meant risk, especially considering he'd probably aggravate several of the local dragons on the way to uncover the focal point of the seismic waves.
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Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2016 9:38 am
Was Amias really that old that he claimed to be the oldest monster still alive? To be as old as memories themselves is a harrowing thought; definitely not one that Kieran would have thought about himself. But that's what Pagans were, right? Just really old, powerful monsters? They were... always around. Kieran had met three in his lifetime, and all of them were equally unsettling. Still, to reign in so many creatures was... a mistake. Monsters are not toys that can be placed and played with whenever someone wants. If that was the case, why was Kieran still free, and not reigned in with the rest of the cattle? "This is... this is wrong. All of it. No one is fit to rule anyone! This place... it used to be sanctuary from your kingdoms and your empires! It was beautiful!" As Adriel returned his affectionate hug with idle body swinging, Kieran continued to voice his concerns, even as his body spun around almost comically. When he regained his composure, he latched onto Adriel's shoulders, almost gripping them.
A common feature in all of the Shifter's forms was unending passion. But many mistook the passion for whining, and it severely alienated the Shifter further from society. Further from any Shifter he had met before. "Brydent! Adriel! I don't care what you go by, but you can't support this! Not every beast in Val'Ghast has the voice to speak on their own behalf, and even less have the mental capacity to understand what is going on. You say they should accept the changes, but they won't. They are beasts. But please, the answer to the terrible leadership systems in the west is not introducing it to the rest of the world! I've seen every kindgom and their kings, queens, lords, ladies, emperors, and sovereigns... they are not what this place needs. Trust me! I know!" What? What did he know? Not even he understood his last bout, but he firmly believed it. Val'Ghast wasn't a kingdom of any sort, and was never meant to be conquered. Instead, it served as a pin for all of the stable animals to sit in who couldn't adjust to the world outside. It was a safe haven. The tear unexpectedly falling from Kieran's right eye tried to make Adriel see things from his point of view. In a world full of broken systems, this place was the last simple thing he could come back to.
The fault line was another big worry for the Shifter. Why was another Diabolos in Val'Ghast? It wasn't just Amias and Adriel here; they attracted others would would seek to gain from some sort of claim in Val'Ghast. "Do you get it? This place should remain untouched. People can be here, but they shouldn't try and disrupt the normal lives occurring here." The Shifter quickly ran to the receptionists desk and grabbed his small pack before returning to Adriel. "I might not be the smartest, or politically correct, but this is my home. If you're going to stop something, I'm going with you. This is my home. This is my home." The Shifter continued to mumble the same four words, over and over again, as if in a trance. "...my home. This is my home."
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Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2016 8:39 pm
""
Days passed before Kieran would allow himself to rise from his bed, though only to bathe. Melancholy washed over him with Adriel's departure; it had turned out that Adriel didn't agree with the Shifter about his ideals. No one ever listened to him, not fully. This was, perhaps a sign? As a Shifter, he was incapable of forming real bonds. As such, he could never feel true companionship, and when he believed he had, he was wrong. Adriel was not who Kieran thought he was. The second he thought he felt something between them happening, it was all wrong. He gave Adriel far too much credit, just as Max had done with Alex. It was repetitive; a nasty habit that bled through every form the Shifter would ever dare to assume. The Shapeshifter was far too loving. No, that was wrong. He could hardly say he loved anything. Kieran came to care for a great many of things, often growing overly passionate about all of it. Why? He never understood why. There wasn't much that he did understand, or knew. The shifter was well aware of his abilities and how to use them, but besides that... it was all blank.
There wasn't much about his past he actually knew about. In fact, he barely felt time pass. What might have seemed like days to him may have been years to others. It then hit him. How long had he been laying in bed? Weeks? Months? Most likely the latter. None of it really mattered anymore. Kieran had no one downstairs in the world that would be waiting for him. He didn't seek love. All he needed was confirmation that he is, in fact, real. Often, he would go out and flirt with the townspeople. Every day, he received different reactions; he was a stranger to them everyday. Introducing himself as something different everyday, the Shifter began to mold himself into the ideal form. With each intricate detail he changed, the more eyes he received. It was attention he wanted. Recognition that he was a real person.
It was coming again.
That time. The reminder echoed in his head, as if an alarm had been set off, and there was no end to it. With woeful sorrow, he rose from the creaky bed and onto his feet. "I want to feel alive." It was a chant he recited every day when he got up. Every day, he would tell himself his deepest wish. Some days, he hadn't a clue what it meant. Others, it made him feel adventurous. What he would give to feel the thrill of a new journey. To discover himself. To feel alive. It wouldn't happen in his room, so he departed from it. No one would even know the room was even rented out in the first place. No trace. Hardly anything to live for. When he descended down to the first floor and into the lobby, everything was different. There were many people heavily clad in armor and weapons; hardly the typical day for the average inn that resided in the town. But what attracted so many soldiers to this location? It was then that a handsome face spoke aloud. "Are you joining in, friend? Val'Ghanst hunting games are soon to begin." Hunting games? In Val'Ghast? "How unoriginal. I suppose you're all here for the glory of slaying dragons or something?" The hunters were almost too common in Val'Ghast; they were always here to claim they killed the next most dangerous Elder Dragon or slaughtered the Jeksiun mercenaries.
The man's face soon dropped to a frown. It was evident that Kieran wasn't here for the festivities, but he had no need to sound so apathetic. "It's just a little fun. An adventure. There's not much of it these days. Everyone's stuck in their castles and estates in the kingdoms and empires. There's not much room left for adventurers anymore; the rest of the world wants aristocrats and knights. I apologize for the inconvenience we're causing you." His words stung. While it didn't particularly interested Max in the slightest, he had complained not so long ago about the lack of an adventure to go on. To feel like he was free again, even if that meant hunting down monsters for the slaughter. It was clear that his apathetic behavior didn't suit him; instead of making others smile and laugh as he once had, he made them turn from him. If he waited long enough, he could start over with this man. The adventurer would have no recollections of Kieran, and would simply approach him like he once had. And so he remained out of sight until the appropriate time came for him to approach the man again. Tapping him on the shoulder, he put on a semi-enthused expression as he spoke. "What's going on here?" As the man turned around, the same expression was still on his face. It was one of disappointment, though it lifted slightly when he saw Kieran once again. "What do you mean? Oh, did you change your mind?"
Confused, Kieran remained silent for a split moment, but continued the conversation with the adventurer. "Yes! Yes, I have. Apologies for earlier, I've only just woken up, so my behavior was shoddy, at best. But where is this company headed?" Looking around, it didn't seem like much of a company; just a rag tag bunch of has-beens looking for a thrill. In fact, the only one who seemed young was the man in front of him. "Those blokes are headed to some Dragon's den of some sort, but I'm headed for bigger game. The Play Pen seems a bit fun, doesn't it? All of those toys, ripe for the picking?" The Play Pen? No one really went there anymore. It was far too dangerous for even a skilled warrior, let alone an average adrenaline seeking adventurer. With every push that those from the Empires to the South and the Kingdoms to the East did, they contained the monsters even more. The likelihood of meeting a monster that could fatally wound or even kill a lone warrior was very high. The challenge was there, and there was even a willing companion. An interesting companion, at that. One that remembered Kieran without having to hold something of his. That was what drew the Shifter to the Adventurer. Giving the Adventurer a smile as he reached his hand out to officially greet him, he introduced himself."The name's Kieran. I'd love to get in on the fun, if you wouldn't mind." Taking Kieran's hand and shaking it vigorously in excitement, the he introduced himself as well. "Kieran. I like that name, but you don't strike me as a Kieran. My name is Daniel. Why don't we save the idle chat for later? I haven't been on a decent trip for ages, and if I stay here for too long, I might go crazy."
Wholeheartedly, the Shifter agreed. This hotel was growing dreary, and would lead to his demise via suicide if he remained here. Daniel seemed a bit of a wild card, though. Kieran could hardly figure out why anyone would intentionally seek out monsters that could kill them. Without saying anything to Daniel, he responded to Kieran's expression. "You must think I am mad for wanting to go to such a dangerous place. I can understand that. But let me ask you a question? Why do ignore the cattle and feel intrigue with monsters? Why is a sheep less interesting than a scorpion? One would cause us no harm, and the other would poison us before we even knew it. Its the fear. The intrigue comes from fear. I think that's why Val'Ghast appeals to so many adventurers, like you and I. We don't scare easily, but fear is always present. The Play Pen? It's a work of art. A nightmare, really. While the poets sing of beauty and squalor, we see the real beauty in the world. We get to live a life of intrigue. We get to feel alive." As he listened, not a single muscle moved. This was it, wasn't it? Everything he wanted, and it was ripe for the taking. As Daniel signaled Kieran to leave with him, Kieran took one moment of pause. Calling out to Daniel, who had moved ahead of him to exit the hotel, Kieran shouted over the loud crowd in the lobby, "You're not going to get me killed, are you? I mean, I can watch your back, but will you watch mine?" Daniel stopped, surprised at the question. "Just worry about saving my hide, and I'll worry about saving yours. I don't really want my bones used as a tooth pick! Now hurry along, we haven't got all day. Unless you're into the idea of spending the night out there with me," Grinning simultaneously at the lewd request, they both hurried to the hotel's exit and, soon, the town's.
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___youwillknownihilism Captain
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Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2016 3:33 am
  
Seldar. Seldar. Seldar. Such was the name of this place she had chosen to allow her curiosity to bring her into. It was populous, and really close the geographic landmark that was known as the Amaranthine Fault. The city itself was large enough to be well known, but not so large that it was a major location in Valghast or Aramil. It was, however, a large part of Kevai and therefore here there would be a mass of Incubi, humans and Djinn. Possibly mer. All flavors she would soon partake in. But that was not the only thing that drew her here. It was her ambition, the greatest of hungers that made her come here. The Countess of Crasta Granak needed to make some strides in the world if she was to ever be of any true note. She hit a strut once she was near the center of the town, her eyes flitting about the largely Lumirian-esque, Voloan city. The people she passed by all had up a sort of aura of confidence that she quite thoroughly enjoyed. More than once she allowed her mind to be distracted by the pheremones given off by the incubi that would do what they could to tempt a vampire, and such a young one to be in the Elder state too. She could turn into a powerful ally for them. Too bad for them she was not interested in simply making friends. She had done far more than enough of that already, at least for now. And these more mundane and drab faces would be momentary distractions. She hungered not for the pleasures a civilian could offer her.
At least.... well she didn't at first. But the moment she became just a little curious the mind of the Sin of Gluttony was immediately distracted from... well what was she here for if not to taste the pleasures of the men and women here. The very one who piqued her Curiosity just so happened to be possibly the one Incubus with a level of self control that prevented him from allowing her to pounce him right there. Instead, she approached him, sitting beside him next to a fountain with the image of a demoness spraying water from her mouth, tongue made of marble outstretched so that the water fell in a line straight into the water. The sounds the visage of Catherine, Goddess of Death made as the water, clear as crystal, made as it crashed into the surface formed the melody of the encounter. Almira turned her head to the side, toying with golden locks that bounced when she moved but still fell over sizeable bust as the energy passed. The Incubus was clean shaven, eyes of a dark doughey brown, smile white and wide. He reached for her hand, and almost instinctively the girl submitted, allowing him to take it. She didn't even remember his name; she was too busy allowing him to enamor her. He didn't even realize it but just as much as she was surrendering to him, he was surrendering to her. Curiosity being sated of this creature as he walked with her through the streets, and the closer she got the more intoxicating his scent became. Distinguishing where the trapped prey ended and the hungering lust ended became all but impossible, but nonetheless both parties were happy with their results. By nightfall, the Incubus had suggested she come back with him to his home, even if only for a drink. His eyes betrayed his intentions. So did his smile. She agreed anyway, flashing her fangs in a very sultry manner and moving behind him into his home, a studio apartment near the downtown area. One drink turned to six, six into twelve and he was pretty drunk by then, but the bottomless gullet of Gluttony prevented her from really becoming intoxicated. Still when he made his move she gave in to desire and hunger both, letting him lift her as she clawed away his shirt, wrapping lithe limbs around his waste, grasping at his hair as they kissed. His door slammed shut, and Almira satisfied her hunger.
The morning came, and light shone through stained glass, red touching pale skin instead of white light. Almira shyed away from the light, feeling a minor sting against her arm. With a flick the blanket flew from her body and a dagger followed, pinning it to the wall over the window. The dagger itself was a last moment of defense against what the Incubus wasn't ready for. When Almira decided that he'd enjoyed himself enough and decided to enjoy herself. She reached into his chest, tearing free muscle and blood very suddenly, clawed at his throat. He was no challenge besides the stab wound she had barely taken note of. She pulled it free after she'd carved him apart, scattering his blood about the room and, for the first time, consuming the heart brain and muscle of an Incubus. He tasted as good as he felt, as he smelled the day they spent together. His soul tasted even better. Almira stretched, feeling the dried blood break apart a bit, yawned with the taste of blood still fresh. Soft steps took her to the bathroom, flipping on a switch that started a mix of music to get ready to, following this by turning the water on in the shower and stepping in, unphased by the cold, nor the rising heat as she allowed the soap and h2o to cleans her body, shampooing her hair, then stepping out, wrapping in a towel and drying off as best she could. Following that she was surprised to find he had a hair dryer at all, plugging it in and letting the hot air blow her locks dry. It took long enough that it bothered her. She loved her hair, but it was such a bother to get blood out of. She was thankful she'd removed her clothing on the way to his room, else it'd be soaked in blood like his sheets. She stole a pair of underwhere from him, more like shorts on her but of no consequence. She slid back into her clothes, stepped into her heals, pinned up her hair and opened the door. Waiting on the outside of it was a contingent of Wardens, each holding a weapon at her, but Almira didn't pout. She was aware they had gathered. She heard them when they stormed the halls. Perhaps someone heard the struggling. Maybe word simply got out that Greed had arrived. Either way the lawbringers of Seldar were here for her. With a deep exhale the girl allowed them to cuff her in holy silver that would have hurt enough to debilitate her if she weren't a knight. Whatever they had planned she knew how the law worked in these lands. The nature of the arrest itself was strange too. They allowed her to get ready, waited for her to open the door, were somewhat civil even though they shouldn't have been. Oh what could they possibly have in store for the Sin of Gluttony
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Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2016 9:24 pm
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Three wardens each held had her restrained, one holding her hands behind her back by the cuffs, one on each shoulder, and those two also held her forearms. Electricity flowed through her body, a low voltage but enough to make her think twice about rebelling. Little did these men know that they were only feeding her. Almira held a smirk on her lips but otherwise looked entirely stoic. Pacified is the word the Wardens would use, but in all truth it was too smug for that. She knew this was beneath her, being bound and escorted through the air to what would likely end up being a prison of some sort that she would only endure for a few hours before she left it of her own accord. At least she fed the night before. She wouldn't be very hungry for a while still. Well she was always hungry, but she would be in need of a feed for a while still at this rate. "Are you all always so dauntingly silent?" she asked, somewhat surprising them as the lightning was supposed to be burning inside of her body. Still, none of them said a word to her. The one leading them through the air turned his head to look upon Almira, giving her a once over. She sized him up in return, licking her fangs very visibly as she allowed her mind to picture the taste of a Warden. He furrowed his brow and shook his head as he turned back. They broke the cloudline, lowering quickly and holding her tightly. Almira didnt yelp even slightly when they hit terminal velocity, heading straight for a building that looked official and important. They pulled up in the last second, releasing her to fly through an open window. This did garner a bit of a yelp as she rolled through the air reactively, thankful to be a vampire once more. She landed on her feet, heels of her shoes snapping but not causing her to fall. She took her momentum and rolled with it coming to a halt in what looked to be an office of some kind. She stood up, snapping the handcuffs and taking in the room. Smelled of maple wood and marble, she could all but taste the money that had went into this place's construction.Below her feet was carpet that looked as if it got a lot of traffic. She took off her now worthless shoes, digging her toes into the soft fabric that pleased her soles. Her eyeslocked onto a bookshelf, a desk with papers scattered about it and pens here and there, as well as a stamp? She smelled ink. It had been used recently. Whoever she was supposed to meet recently stepped out, didn't even push in the chair. She meandered to the bookshelf, reaching her hand out and touching the first volume of a full set encyclopedia. To her surprise, a wisp of whiteness was absorbed into her finger tip. She suddenly had an entire knowledge of everything that started with the letter A. And she was only more curious. It seemed the sin of Gluttony was less of a singular mindset than she thought. A hunger for knowledge superceded the current hunger for blood and carnage as delicate fingers touched each volume, stealing the knowledge from every book in seconds. Her brain all but lit up with all of the possibilities and knowledge now flowing within, all accessible through perfect recall. In seconds, mere seconds, she gained a static understanding of someone four times her age, all by the time she reached Z. She took her hands free of the books, closing her eyes for just a moment as it evolved within her mind, becoming a more dynamic knowledge. With access to so much, she, in seconds, could draw comparisons, make connections she wouldn't have mere moments prior. This bookshelf contained more books however. A big black title caught her eye. "Angelic for Dummies Vol. 1." A finger touched the book and her gluttonous energy enveloped it all the same. An instant later everything within was sucked into her mind. Basic Angelica was now within her grasp. Beside that book was a dictionary. Now she knew every word's definition from within it.
This experience was enlightening, but it was also eye opening, a moment of true self discovery if you will. She had taken three minutes to steal all of the knowledge on that one shelf of the bookcase. Of course this was a boon, a true gift only she could enjoy, but Almira had forgotten to truly savor it, the ability to enjoy rather than simply envelop all within her grasp. A puff of steam would rise from her nostrils at the accusation she had just made of herself, that she was doing Too Much, of anything. There was never enough and there never would be for her, so she would eventually consume it all if she' held up that line of thought. Taking her time would prove a far more bountiful prospect anyway, less likely to have some zealous hunter try and take her head to save the planet or something. Still, this was too good to pass up. If it was this easy for her to gain knowledge she could only imagine what else being the Sin of Gluttony could afford her. She trotted towards the desk, placing her hand on a stack of papers. Red eyes glowed brightly, she could see it as her reflection in the window pane glared back at her. She rose an eyebrow, surprised at what she'd found, and then looked to the man's computer. Single digit was magnetized to it as the glow appeared again and she absorbed every single letter organized into a word within a phrase in every file. Oh my, she thought as the dark secrets the Mayor kept under lock and key became hers to keep... or not to.
By the time she heard shuffling, smelled the scent of power coming down the hall it was too late. He was now a pawn in her game. Regardless, now she sat in the chair opposite his own, legs crossed and fingers interlaced in her lap. She leaned her head back, the world inverted from her perspective as she sized up the Mayor of the town of Seldar, and his two bodyguards. Voice like velvet wrapped around the man's head as soon when she spoke.
"Mayor Dukein," she would offer nigh on invitingly. "Pleasure to make your Acquaintance." The man snorted and set his guards at ease. Clearly he wasn't worried as he walked past, keeping his gaze firm and eyes on hers while he walked around to take a seat. "The Sin of Gluttony before my very eyes. I had hoped it was a rumor that the Sins of Man had returned... but here you sit before me... bearing the mark on your neck." Almira all but purred. "Oh so you know who I am? That begs the question, Mayor Dukein," she chided adjusting her position and leaning in, seeing the blood rushing along the circulatory highway in his veins. "Why did you apprehend me? Why not slay the Sin of Gluttony and let her be rid of the world? Hmm? Oh or perhaps you wanted to kill me here, yourself and take my power. Oh the plot... thickens." she said feeling unphased by his stern features, well groomed mustache and muscular build complementing the demeanor of one who played no games. "Count yourself lucky, halfling, that the man you so readily murdered just so happened to be a major suspect in a series of kidnappings and a rumored member of a sex trafficking ring. Otherwise you're damn right this conversation wouldn't be happening." Almira flared her nostrils at being called halfling. Fun little insult used by holy and unholy races alike against vampires. Half human in lineage only, but no matter. It was ironic he mentioned the black market... especially with what she knew of his dealings behind the scenes. Still she would play his game so long as he seemed content to "let her live." "Then whatever do you need of me?" The man nodded to the guards who abdicated their positions at the door, closing it behind them and shuffling off. "My my, Mr. Mayor. Planning on taking advantage of your ward? How scandalous," she poked again. He slammed a fist on the desk hard enough that it cracked, and a buzzing sound like electricity arced from him, striking at an outlet in the wall. Almira barely even moved but to raise her eyebrows. "All of your talking will get you killed if you don't put a handle on it. You are here because you committed a crime, but you also have the potential to be a powerful ally to me. The two guards who left the room are my most trusted advisors in addition to my closest protectorates. Your secret will be safe with me, no one will know twas you that murdered the Incubus. But in return you owe me something. I want to hire you. I trust you know of the Wurm issue out in Seldar?" he asked. Almira nodded. He had all manner of files on the issue on his computer. "A queen has made a nest not too far from the fault in a very complex cave system. I do not have the men to root out a wurm infestation, not without a massive blow to resources. However, I am now in possession of a special little soldier. You, little girl, will go with the men I do have to spare, and you will root out the wurm problem. Once that is complete, consider yourself a free woman," he said. "And what if I decline, or run off the moment you cut me loose?" A powerful looking sword appeared in a bolt of lightning beside him. "Message received." "I'm glad you understand your predicament. And I am glad to know I have your full cooperation. The men will bewaiting for you at the mouth of the fault. You may leave," he said pressing a button on his keyboard to light up the screen.It seemed he was none the wiser that everything he had put into it was now locked inside of her endlessly deep mind as well. It could be so easy, honestly, for Almira to gorge herself on this man's blood, kill him and everyone in this building, eventually kill every warden guard that came before her and then devour every citizen, each and every man woman and child. She could, given the time and palying her cards right, reduce this place to a gray waste of lifelessness. Or maybe she would die trying, as was more likely. Letting the urge to splurge dictate everything would likely land her in this kind of danger mroe often. But then again, this had been a blessing in disguise. This man had provided her the means to acquire new tastes. Perhaps she should hold her cards mroe often, play the long game instead of just killing and eating everything she saw. Yes... that would lead to bigger feasts, and more satisfaction. She stood tall and turned to leave without a word. Already, the Sin of Gluttony had began to formulate a wicked plan to undermine the "Good Mayor Dukein" from the inside. For now, however, she was truly interested to see what the taste of Wurm could be likened to.
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___youwillknownihilism Captain
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___youwillknownihilism Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 17, 2016 3:29 am
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This time, when Almira entered the office it was not in shackles, nor with an escort. She walked with Solaris's marked as an equal, even if they were wary of each others brandings. The pep in her step was mirrored by the warriors whent hey reached Seldar once more, even as a few of the men took the wounded warrior off of Grunt's shoulder, even as the others bade them farewell. It was only her and Grunt trekking through the city to town hall before long. Almira could all but smell the curiosity on him. "I can hear you looking at me," she joked staring at their reflection in the window of a storefront nearby. He saw her looking and smiled in defeat. "I was just curious to how someone becomes a slave to one of the seven deadly sins," he spat in reply. She knew it was a jest, but answered just as crudely.
"I imagine it is quite like coming to be the slave of the state, and further a slave of religion." Her eyes landed on his chest, where she had seen the mark before. He scoffed, locking fingers behind his head. "Somehow I highly doubt it's the same on either count. And I asked you first," he retorted. Almira giggled in a manner that almost disarmed him. Almost. "Well, I have always been the sin of gluttony. It just took 21 years of my life to realize it. You don't become a slave to the sin, as so many believe. I am no more the host to Gluttony as I am host to my own soul. There is no duality. Almira Herakk is the Sin of Gluttony." Accidentally she'd let a bit more slip than she intended. "Herakk? I know of that name. Old Vampire line right? Pure?" he asked. Almira heard surprise in his voice alongside something else. Was that... empathy? Like he could know how it felt to be the child of an aristocrat. He was a Grunt with rank. "You're not wrong, I am indeed daughter of Alhirek and Miran of the pureblood line Herakk." He seemed to laugh knowingly again. "I hear it in your voice," he said ambiguously. Almira looked up at the man, raising an eyebrow, ignoring the want to gouge out and eat his eyes. "Tired of being defined by your name, judged by blood before anyone even knows who you are," he replied. Almira was disarmed now. "How could you know about that?" she asked recovering quick even if her face still looked sour. He was quiet. She looked his face over more carefully to see his poker face crack. Rather than picking up on a tell, Almira puffed out her nostrils and pointed. He had the mayors nose. "Grunt! You're the mayor's son?" she accused very incredilously. He smacked her hand away and shushed her, looking around. A grin played on her lips, along with a drawn out coo. Two and two were being put together in her mind.
"It seemed odd that he sent me to your aid, considering he had a gaggle of flying fools protecting him that he could have sent to help root out a single, small wurm's nest. He had vested interest in bringing you home didn't he, Marcus?" He flinched as if the name hadn't been spoken in ages. "No, that's not it. You think he would have sent you to protect me? You? A vampire with the age old mark of gluttony, unseen and unrecorded in ages? He cares less about me and those wurms than everyone thinks. I'll let you in on a secret that really burns me up inside," he said, clearly irritated by his tone but not directly at Almira, who seemed to shrink. Even as such a young Elder Vampire she knew not to call the wrath of such a powerful being down, not one protected by Solonor. "My father wanted that cave cleared because the wurms were making whatever business he was conducting there harder than necessary. He wanted that cave, not for the safety of the people but for personal gain. Think about it, that cave was small, far too small to be a long term option for an entire brood, and that very same cave is unmarked on maps, in case you couldn't tell. It's far from where we patrol, dug deep into darkness most people aren't brave enough to venture." He had stopped walking, thinking deep. Almira called on the knowledge she gained from the computer and realized that he was catching onto his father's dirty dealings. She fought against her urge to smile.
"You don't trust dear old daddy?" she asked moving close, placing a hand on his shoulder like a friend would. He didn't seem moved. "I know better than to trust a vassal ruler from the King of Aramil so far away that he may as well be autonomous. Absolute power corrupts absolutely." Almira felt a knowing hunger deep in her mind and gullet both. To taste absolute power... that would be a meal worthy of Gluttony. Once again her mind began plotting. The wurm food was grand, just as she knew it would be. While her hunger was of a true kind that could never hope to be abated, the sizeable feast left her merely... well hungry and not famished or, god forbid, starving. Her new conquest would serve to fill her even better. Marcus began walking again, taking Almira in tow. "If you want... I could help you stop him. I know some things that would be a great boon if you wanted to over throw his rule." He seemed unsure, voicing his concern. "I am not sure. This could be the natural order of things. Maybe... maybe it is for those in power to ignore the conventional laws and constraints. And if I remove my father, someone worse could take his place. I wouldn't have that on my watch." Almira licked her lips, ensuring her snake-like words would be lubricated as they slithered into his mind. "You could lead the nation." He was not as receptive as she wanted yet, but more open to the idea. Seduction was not Gluttony's ball park, but even so, it was easy to get into the heads of those without proper defenses against manipulation. "I'm not an office man. I'm a soldier, a peacekeeper." She spoke softly, aware of their proximity to town hall. She took his hand as well, drawing his eyes to hers. She could read his mind, and he could feel her intentions. He did not draw away, feeling increasingly enamored by her in that moment, as their steps slowed. He sensed her curiosity, like her hunger, being sated as she saw into his interactions with him, his achievements as a leader but moreover his failures hounding his thoughts. She blinked, knowing how she could go forth without altering his memories. "I could advise you. I have a pair of friends, strong necromancers with no ties to any lawmakers or otherwise shifty individuals. We could be impartial mediators, as well as confidants. Keep your head on straight," he slowly trailed away. "And why should I believe you? Going to look into my eyes and read my mind to know what to say next? Perhaps you'll say you only want to see me rise? I don't know you well enough to trust you off the battlefield." Almira laughed, and he felt truly triumphant. "Pulled my card you did. But you know I'm right about helping you. That much you cannot ignore." He shrugged, back in control of himself in this situation. They turned the knob on the doors into town hall. "Perhaps this would be a good idea. Maybe I'm a fool. But either way, we shall first report back to him. I'm going to request you stay on with me, and we'll see if you can confirm yourself worth trusting, half-blood." "Hey now," she warned. He brushed her off with another shrug.
Vampires are power hungry, do whatever they must in order to gain strength. As the sin of Gluttony it was an even more deeply rooted part of her as a person, and he knew it. Whatever he stood to gain, she would get more, and he would not be the catalyst of something bad happening because his father was a bad man. Still she was very... compelling. He pondered as they ascended the stairs, took down halls of the center of Commerce and Politics in Seldar. Almira's ears picked up a lot of things as they wandered, learning a great deal of this place's inner workings, how the judges were kept on tight leashes behind closed doors and how ranking officers weren't being given their hush money on time. This place was all but dank with the smell of corruption and Almira loved it, loved the thought of being the center of it all, keeping everyone on tight leashes, holding them all hostage to their own foolish desires. Her stomach was almost growling at the need to taste that power. For now she simply needed to wait, to let the hard work be done by her soon-to-be thrall.
They arrived at the Mayor's office and Marcus opened the door without knocking. The Mayor looked perturbed at first, but then he welcomed his son. "Lt. Dukein! Glad you could make it back," he offered. Almira observed how he didn't elate like a father who's son returned from a long trip, much less a dangerous mission. Marcus, in the corner of her eye, seemed unsurprised. "Yes, father, I am here, along with your mercenary." His eyes fell on Almira then. "I see. I am glad my gamble paid off. I knew she would be helpful. Now, as per our arrangement, Almira, you are released. See that you do not cross my law enforcement again." She puffed air from her nose as Marcus spoke up. "Actually, I will be conscripting Maria as my personal bodyguard. She's far more than capable," he replied crossing his arms. Almira took a step back as sparks and arcs electricity formed between the two. "You must be crazy. She is a liability, especially to in your position. She will betray you, just as is her nature as a damn halfling." The shadows in the room noticeably shifted, and Mayor Dukein stood, daring her to speak. BEfore she had the chance, Marcus intervened. "You don't approve of anything I do, with all do respect. If I make a decision about who joins my militia, as it's head I need no one's permission to do so. Not even the Mayor." Almira bit her lip, looking at the back of his head. So commanding... she really needed to stay on his good side. "I can keep my urges under control. And as he saw, I am a boom in combat, and a keen mind. He won't be in better hands," she said challengingly. They shared a look that spoke volumes of their unmoving stance. He waved his hand with a loud "Bah!" "Do what you want, you always have. Just don't expect me to be there when she does turn on you, idiot. You'll get your payment in a few days, now, as you know things in the east have been unstable for years, what with Valghast, the Makassar and the King up our a** about aiding him. I'm going to send you all as a team to Luhkan's Landing, see how you can be of help so he gets off my back." Marcus looked shocked. "You're going to send us to fight in a war against the monsters, the wurms and those Makassar? What help will we be?" he asked. Mayor Dukein went to typing away again as he had been before we arrived. "I don't know, which is why I am sending you to him. I have a meeting in five minutes. Get lost, boy. Don't return until he's off my back about sending troops for the war." Marcus clenched his fists but didn't challenge the powerful man further. Instead the two merely bowed lightly and left in a hurry.
Once they were on the street, Almira followed him in a forced silence to his compound, where his men waited. Of the many knights and weapon masters, only a few were mages, a handful more than she fought beside flew about the large barracks. Men sharpened blades, sparring with weapons born of true steel rather than wooden ones. The lightning arced and buzzed all over, and the scent of fresh blood filled her nostrils. Control had come with the evolution of her body and mark both. Still, it was better she not test it, rather she just stop breathing and keep her mouth closed as they hurried along, pulling a few of the Wardens along into a huge wooden door, closing it behind them. "Welcome back grunt," the largest of them said. His only armor was his graves over leather pants and a large, metallic shoulder piece. He had a long scar on his chest like a crude blade had cut deep and left a pretty picture for the monster of a man to show off. He had a long mane of wild hair as well, and a sword as tall as her body, nearly as wide. She could see in his face and stature. Like her, he was a knight, a vanguard possibly. Marcus nodded, but continued walking with hands locked behind his back around a round table. "Yeah Bran, welcome indeed," He pulled out a chair, offering it to Almira, who sat down wordlessly. A woman around her size Almira was so barely aware of she almost startled her spoke next, plopping down across from her. "Who's the bloodsucker?" She picked at her nails with a dagger as crude as her question, didn't even bother to look up or pull the soft satin that covered the lower half of her face, just darker tha mocha colored skin. She wore a black vest and fingerless gloves, skintight latex pants and boots. Dark hair was wrapped in a loose ponytail, and Almira saw a particular looking tattoo, something in elven? From what she knew... "Do not fear the abyss." Curiosity would have gotten the better of her if her question hadn't bothered her so much. "The bloodsucker is Almira, and she'd rather you keep snide comments to yourself," she warned. Everyone seemed zoned in, including Marcus who looked over his shoulder at the tension he could see. The girl looked Almira in the eyes, lightning bolts visible in them. Shadows danced around the Night Master, who didn't close to back down. The woman broke eye contact, back to picking her nails. "Almira then. Call me Lu," she offered disinterestedly once more. Bran plopped down noisily to Almira's left, and to her right, Marcus relaxed into his wooden seat like a throne. Two more shuffled in and took seats aside Lu. "Oh, a new girl, and a vampire? Interesting," the female said. She tipped her head, a head of blonde hair and forced, heavy breathing from her spar betraying her as a human. Almira took a whiff subtly, unsure if the girl was just crazy strong or crazy to end up working along side the wardens. "Cecilia, militia Spellmaster and one of the few human's present in the whole compound. Pleasure's mine miss..." Almira nodded back with a smile. "Almira." The other man who walked in right after her sat, a bladeat his side, hands in his pockets. Another warden by the smell of ozone from lightning on his body. His tank top was black with soot, as well. "Quarter Master, Jehrico," he said. Marcus sat up, drawing attention. "Alright, now that we've broken the ice, Almira is going to join our little group for the forseeable future, and on top of that she's going to be joining the council. Say hello to my new bodyguard. Dear old dad didn't approve, but she's going to prove extremely useful." Bran spoke, looking down at Almira who met his eyes. "The boys told us about you having their back and pulling that young queen off of her high ground. Nice work." Lu looked over at Marcus, as did Jehrico. "All will become clear soon, relax. As I was saying: Mission to root out wurms went well, and as you can imagine my father already plans to use us again. Except, unlike what a militia is for... he plans to send us to Luhakn's Landing." Cecillia and Lu perked up. "What for?" Lu asked. Marcus paused, then spoke up. "We're being sent to "get King Akeem off his back" and shore up his military forces. We're joining the war on Reds, Monsters and Wurm monsters," he exhaled as the others seemed less excited. "Get everyone ready to go in the morning." Jehrico cut in. "So what, we're gonna be cannon fodder? We have 208 men, 207 with the new guy out for a few months while the shaman's fix his eyes. We're strong, but what are 207 men and women of various races and combat levels going to add to the entire army? Why's he throwing us out?" Marcus sighed, but even Bran leaned past Almira to read his face. "I don't know but I doubt he knows we plan on exposing him." Almira smirked. So he already had the idea in his head. Good. All the more reason for him to trust her. "But we can't very well disobey his orders. Unless you wanna go tangle with the man who killed 100 reds. No? Alright then. Minor setback. We will go there, and Almira and I are going to go see the King. Just stay patient, at least until we get back." Lu stood then, throwing her dagger at the center of the table. "The spies won't wait much longer, Grunt," she said almost like a threat. Almira looked to Marcus, who watched her leave like he wanted to throw the dagger at her skull. Bran scooted his char back loudly, and she saw that this chair had been put through the ringer for years through the scrape marks on the ground. He clapped twice. "Knights will be riding at dawn as you wish," Jehrico followed him out and Cecillia was the only one left. She eyed him with an expression of concern, but Marcus merely seemed to ponder the events of the day. "I can go prepare the mages and make sure we're ready provisions wise. Daylight's dying. Might wanna retire for the night, Grunt." He nodded, and she fled the room as well. He looked to Almira, who was scrutinizing every inch of his face. "Not to worry. Going to the king is precisely the sort of thing we need currently. I didn't say anything because I was surprised that you had any inkling at all. How'd you learn my name?" "I touch a book, or a computer, and i consume all of the knowledge in it." "And you touched my father's computer? So that's how you know about his dealings. I see. Well that makes this easier, you know what he keeps in that thing yeah? Good... Good... Alright here's what we're gonna do. Im going to bed, then on the way you can fill in the milita leaders on what you know so we can form a legitimate argument against that ******** for Akeem. You need a room? We have lots of cots..." he offered her. "Me, cramped with sleeping, some wounded from sparring humans? Not smart. Besides... I have some business to tend before we leave. But I will be back by dawn. Rest easy," she offered him with a smile and a kiss blown wryly. In the next second her form shifted into that of bats, and she left through the open door, right into the air before disappearing among the darkening skies.
""
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Posted: Fri Dec 09, 2016 2:01 am
 
Echoes of the night,
Wherein dark dreams dwell,
Follow the sliver of light,
He'll guide you towards heaven... or hell,
In what tongue dwells his name - the word behind his might?
Not a single fool may yet tell;
Yet there he whispers, in echoes of the night,
Wherein dark dreams dwell.
Icarus.
You yet fashion yourself as a reaper of souls - the great adversary to organic life on this, the Third Plane. Proud as a God, yet empty like the machine that you are, you live in a realm of delusion, reinforcing your own inflated image of your self-worth.
What life - if any - led you to this point? Where in your life did your disposition become so maligned to others around you? You may yet claim that it is for the ills of this world that you are who you are; or that all Cordonus believe this way, but, that -
Always an echo of my thought, there to doubt me. There to make me question the life I've led, the claims I've made. The demands I've distributed to every cell that allows for my organic framework to function alongside my cold steel innards. I relent, I relent. The conscience that accompanies organic mortality is a thing that cannot easily be beaten.
And so, with a heavy heart, I admit to the world the lie that I live in. It isn't true, what I've said. About myself, about my life. Nothing I ever told anyone had any significance, because no words I've ever spoken have had transparency behind them.
Cordonomentus Homosylozasene. The name of my people. The species I have been a part of for... a long time, but not always. The mother and father I claimed to have, I fabricated... really, it was only the man and woman who converted my cellular composition in a cramped laboratory. Icarus, the name they gave me - because I was a sign to them of the hubris of mortals. Unlike them, I was not born into a body of cold metal, but warm flesh. I had not always been this way, a creature of foul intentions, a repulsive "evolutionary" biologist whose interest was only inflamed by his vindictive tendencies; his will to destroy life by creating predatory species, his will to enact the wrath of a synthetic God upon a world he deemed unfit.
I wasn't like them, always. These Cordonus. No . . .
Maybe it was for my optimism that they chose for me to live this way, to embody the malediction that is being a Cordonus. I was the opposite of the fiberoptic hull I live in now . . . a Mer, of the Great Ocean, one who sung with Sirens and listened to the waves from islands away in a conch I called my companion. And yet there I was, years later, not long into the first "contact war" between Los Anthos and Aramil . . . swept away without a single person noticing, for many thousands had disappeared in this horrid conflict.
A lab . . . black gloves, organic compositions; alchemical reagents, a chemist's concoction, a brew only a witch could craft. Injected, injected, injected. Mutated. Morphed. Halfway done and I couldn't even recognize myself. I'd become a monster. My body rejected living only on organic compounds, and nutrients weren't enough to sustain my life. The longer it all went, the more robotic I became. First my skin was replaced with fiberoptic material - Mark IV, the most advanced - then my cells themselves were augmented to adapt to a synthetic-organic framework.
The Mer I was, whose name I can't even recall, changed. I became like them, these individuals. Them in their lab coats. Them with their crooked smiles upon witnessing suffering they deemed as progress. Eventually, I could no longer hear the ocean's call, and the splendors of life did not compel me.
Even in my suffering, for the longest time, I could still see the beauty of life. I felt joy at the simplest of things; popping bubbles that sprouted in my aquatic cell, made for my experimentation. The beauty of the animals and other creatures that they operated upon beside me. I ignored the pain. My people often do. We focus on the greatness around us . . . always.
But when the operation was finalized, and I was no longer that creature of yore, that joyous optimism became . . . nothing.
An empty, dull walk into the darkness around me. All things became as naught to eyes that once viewed the world with such joviality.
Where love once was, grew anger. Rage. Hatred. My virulent disgust towards my masters led to their painful execution, and the view in which I witnessed them tainted my perception of my own self. I hated this thing that I am. I still do. A Cordonus, a thing that feels so little - so dulled by their robotic ambivalence - yet in their organic framework, longing for a thrill. The combination of organic and synthetic cannot function, and as a machine cannot feel love, yet a man desperately needs feeling; they meet in the middle. The desire is replaced by a bloodthirst. A machine loves to produce results, something love is inherently forbidden from. Efficiency. I become impassioned at the very idea of how horrid a monster I craft can be, or how many children I can slaughter in one raid, or how many heinous actions I can deliver and process in my brain at any given time.
The organic want melds with the mechanical need to deliver results, and the results I measure are things that compel violence and desolation.
To be an organic-synthetic is to be an abomination of life. They made me because they, the Cordonus, feared their own extinction. They wanted to learn if one from another species could be converted to their own, and they succeeded in doing so. But my kind does not deserve to grow. It deserves to vanish from the history surrounding it, to recede into the dark tunnels in which it once dwelled and examine closely the crime of its biology.
My objective has been, forever, to expand upon my organic arsenal. To develop the greatest of beasts, creatures I may call my own. Perhaps a reminder of who I once was; a lover of all animals and creatures in this world.
Yet the objective that I search for, longingly, as I go about this life . . . is one that I have only now come to understand.
All Cordonus, not just Kamilla, must die. What they are - what we are, is a thing that should never have been. You can't always get what you want. You can't be a man and a machine.
I will prove the weakness of the metal monsters that gave me life.
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