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 Posted: Mon Sep 15, 2014 10:20 pm
It was autumn now, the first autumn Avalon could ever remember.the leaves crunched under her feet, and the night air had teeth that nipped through the heavy wool of her coat. Puddles boasted a thin ring of ice at their borders and all the cafés smelled invitingly of pumpkin and caramel. Avalon knew, immediately and with fervor, that autumn was going to be her very favorite season. Not just because her uniform was not nearly so hot anymore, but because it was different and new and so quiet she could hear her blood rush in her ears. Of course, that couldn't last. Nothing good ever did. Avalon found herself paused stock-still on the edge of the gazebo roof she had climbed, something Chaotic and huge pounding at her senses. Every fiber of her said run, run now, run fast--but that had never been her way, except for a very long time ago, when she had been world weary and cynical. Today--today she tripped lightly off the roof and jogged towards the Chaos thing, trying to be as quiet as she could. It was easy, slipping between tree-shadows. The way to step lightly through the leaves came to her natural as breathing, as simply as the shore receiving the tide. When she stopped behind a tree tall enough to conceal her, she peeked around it and saw--a monster. She grinned and barely managed to restrain herself from punching the air, smothered a victorious laugh. The monster ones were fair game: she could kill this one. She called her apple to hand, bounced it in her palm, and then threw it at the back of the creature's head. Aeeth sorry for shortness!! Phone is hard.
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Posted: Mon Sep 15, 2014 10:56 pm
Bischofite halted, not far from the furrowing boughs of trees that barred, so convincingly, their passage to him. He paused on the sidewalk newly littered with leaves, not yet browned from the early season that stole away the humid heat from the air. It left him shuddered, feathers ruffled into a thickened coat that pulled around his shoulders, one bare and one covered in tattered cloth. He missed the heat, for all it was worth - how it seeped through his skin like pools of gasoline, gambling to light and burn away the last of him to the ash that so many now wished for.
He knew the smell of it, too. So many months later and it still clung to the outskirts of his senses, lingering like old pus over a wound.
The hundred thousand worlds we visit know no sanction from her reach, nor should they - nor would they. No, you, as one so steeped in her touch, are confined to this inescapable truth - she lives within your very core, knows the intrinsic impulses that power your person. Quenton's plan was never meant to work as it addressed outward influence. But she lives within you, not around you. She- Pain gnawed through his thoughts in an instant, pitching the general forward into a stumble while a taloned hand immediately searched the back of his head for signs of damage - blood, bone, skin gone astray. Something harrowingly wet met his touch, flecks of bone clinging to his fingers when he pulled away to see-
And on the pads lay seeds. Apple seeds.
A respectable chunk of the offending projectile embedded itself partially into the feathers of his wings, and Bischofite plucked the crisp flesh away for better survey. Truly an apple, no mystery or magic to it at all. No flare of surprise, no projectile, no explosive device somehow contained therein. He scoffed before he began to laugh, torn between offense and sheer mirth at the absurdity of it all.
It felt good to laugh, though it ached all the same, like his body abandoned so long ago the capabilities of heady happiness or bright and lilting curiosity. Like he slated himself to die yet never chronicled the date of the deed.
The trajectory gave more hint of its mischievous little schemer, though he knew it moot to search through trees from this angle for any hint of the little imp. Rather, a spatial shift left the sidewalk entirely empty and rendered the general opposite the trees, in a clearing not far from a gazebo. Given the new vantage point, he spotted the curious page rather quickly given the directional hints provided by auric sensing. While he approached, he took a bite of the offending apple, both surprised and delighted at its crisp sweetness - a brilliant reprieve from the dimming calm of autumn times.
"Is zat how you greet your enemy, Pa-..." He faltered, his step frozen, eyes narrowed in dark and derisive recognition for the brilliant red hair, the eyes so steeled as uniform cloud cover to wipe away all shadows. Blank though they were, he knew them with a burning hatred from a time long past - a time that left its mark, indelible, upon his skin.
"Avalon," he corrected at last, in a low and graveled tone.
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2014 12:05 am
She kind of expected it to react, but she didn't expect it to sound like a person. To a point, this made sense: Babylon had explained where youma came from, how they were born and where they would go at the end of it all. (It didn't matter that he was mostly wrong.) It would make sense if, for instance, part of the monster was still human from Before, just like she sometimes remembered things from Before. So, in a way, that wheezing, hiccupy laugh was unexpected. A frown pulled at the corner of her mouth as she ducked behind the tree again, but--no such luck. It had spotted her... and it knew her name. "Yes," she said, peeking around the tree trunk. "It is! If they're Chaos monsters!" Which it clearly was, okay, it had claws, and wings, and its face was a creepy bird skull. Which was kind of cool, actually. Was it like, a Chaos bird? Did she really want to kill a Chaos bird? But it was Chaos. So definitely it had to die. Obviously. Too bad she had lost the advantage of surprise. Chaos monsters were sometimes a little hard to punch to death if they knew she was there and she didn't have a stick. Avalon ducked around the other side of the tree so she could at least pretend that she could surprise it. There wasn't a war cry, because those were dumb, and there wasn't a huff of air when she chambered her kick, and not even one when she released it, the hard toe of her boot aimed at what she thought might be the creature's side. Right about then was when she realized she really should've asked how it knew her name. Maybe it had fought her before, and even all the speed and skill in the world wouldn't be able to beat foreknowledge of her abilities.
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Posted: Thu Sep 18, 2014 10:27 am
You're a page, he thought in skeptical silence. You, one of the most irredeemable in the Negaverse, are one of the knighthood. You ran me through for the sake of the Machine, your devotion to it clarion in your choice, yet here you stand as opposition.
She led with a kick, and Bischofite soon realized, with painful recognition, that starving over the long summer months offered no mercy in times of a legitimate fight. In trying to dodge, his leg buckled beneath the weight of the majority of his body. His wings offered little stability as well - even spread out, the cumbersome weight offered more hindrance than help. And there she struck him, though not in the side, but the elbow portion of his wing that managed the sensitivity of a newborn limb. Groaning with the pain, a cluster of voices joined his from the sheltered mouths embedded in the skin.
Her strike stole away the last of his balance. He reached out for her, hands newly wetted in tar, in an attempt to grasp the short braid whipping furiously in her movements.
If he could drag her to the ground, he could smother her - close combat, to his chagrin, was his sole advantage in this form.
"You stabbed me once, Avalon," he hissed in low tones. "But it won't be twice," And half of me suspects that's due to her lacking any penetrative implements. I wonder if Quenton would be jealous... He thought dryly.
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Posted: Thu Sep 18, 2014 12:53 pm
Why did it collapse like that, wondered Avalon, replaying that moment in her mind--it'd gone sideways, causing her kick to hit its wings and--"Ew," she said, " Ew. Why is your back talking? Gross!" Also, what? Avalon wasn't stupid. If she'd stabbed someone, she would've finished the job-- And that's a bout when it grabbed her braid and yanked her down. She was a skilled fighter: like Neo in the Matrix (a movie she didn't like much) she had woken up full-formed and in total knowledge of kung fu. (Or, well, it wasn't really kung fu. It was something else. Kind of more hodgepodge than kung fu, really, a series of stances and blocks that were designed around having a sword in hand. (Her hands felt so empty, anymore.)) But no matter how skilled, the Chaos thing was a monster and monsters were strong, and she crashed to the ground. "How am I going to stab anybody with an apple? I don't even know who you are!" Two important questions, but Avalon was trying to jerk her braid free, kicking out at the monster again. Maybe if she hit it hard enough, it'd let her go? "Let go of my hair, you are messing it up, that is so rude!"
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Posted: Sat Sep 20, 2014 10:16 am
"Because I backtalk," he responded in kind. These reactions - they're girlish, flippant. She is, effectively, disregarding a general while a page. Yet she was so serious before.
Her kicks struck inconsequential areas mostly - first carapace, then muscle, which lent a tolerable pain. Idly he wondered if something might break in him. Finally he shifted to try and lay tarred hand over her mouth, to silence her petulant rage for a chance to explore exactly what happened to her. He would try to straddle her, to pin arms with knees and settle into his back getting kicked until she capitulated momentarily. She possessed answers he sought, and murdering her in some skewed and hopeless fight offered no benefit. Effectively, he would be serving the Negaverse.
"You don't know who I am because you're trying to fight me wis'out asking integral questions!" He spat back in irritation. "You knew me as a human before, and I knew you as a peer - a General." How much is lost? They warned of extensive memory loss prior to purification... She might not have retained anything about her prior life but the more mundane memories. Finally he relinquished her braid and pulled hard to sever the tar in his hand from the tar in her hair and redirected to wrench the mask from his face. While the paint differed wildly from his appearance as a regular general, his retained human features offered enough similarity to relate the two.
"My name was Bischofite, was Alois, and I was, at one time, no different zan you."
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Posted: Sat Sep 20, 2014 1:35 pm
Avalon was confused by its response-- because I backtalk, what--and she stopped trying to find a vulnerable area to kick for just a moment. Which proved to be the vital mistake, because it might be a really strange, talking monster, but it was still stronger than her. Still faster. It managed to pin her arms, but the center of its weight was too high up for her to to try bucking it off, or any of the other tricks she knew for surmounting an opponent that had pinned her. "You're corrupted," she said, "and corruption is a lost cause!! I am going to fist you in the mouth!" Which really answered questions no one had wanted to ask about what, exactly, she did with Finn's computer when he wasn't home. She tried to jerk her arms out from beneath its knees--it wasn't very heavy, she could breathe okay, but there was the tarry hand over her mouth now and she couldn't yell at it to get off any more than she could pitch it off her. She couldn't say anything, what with the hand over her mouth, and she didn't want to try because something felt too hot about that, too hot and too thick. But it removed the mask and beneath it, the Chaos monster's face was human. And she was not really allowed to kill the human-shaped Chaos. Babylon would be disappointed in her if she did. She stopped kicking it--him--and settled for just glaring, trying to channel every bit of annoyance and irritation that she knew how to. After a moment, she kneed him in the back again. She had stuff to say, damnit.
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Posted: Sat Sep 20, 2014 9:09 pm
Exasperation was quick to claim his sensibilities given his weakened state. If you're really going to say that to my face, then I'll tell you right where to fist me, Avalon. An exasperated sigh left his nose, but he added no further fuel to the fire for now.
"I know it's a lost cause," he stated calmly. When he was certain she cooled enough to speak, he intended to wrench hand from mouth to allow her as much, but a quick kick to the particularly sore shoulder joint for one of his wings roused a strained groan from his throat instead. He winced, teeth caught in a seethe while he weathered the blow. "Could you knock zat s**t off for one second? I'f half a mind to break bos' your legs off and shof'e zem up your a** at zis rate..."
Finally he pulled his hand free from her face, though it left behind some heated flecks of tar. It was cooling now, as it always does - it never seemed to last long enough.
"You were once one of ze more devoted agents of ze Negaverse, Avalon, whezzer you remember it or not. Yet now, you lie here as a Page, as one of Order instead of one of Metallia's children. I want to know how you did it. I want to know how you went from driven to serf'e all whims of Chaos to one of ze many zat forms True Chaos. So tell me, Page, how did you manage? Who purified you? What was done to enact it? I need to know so I can repeat it myself." And be free of this wretched existence eternally.
Quenton, I might've found a lead.
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Posted: Sat Sep 20, 2014 9:32 pm
Avalon continued to stare at him narrow-eyed until he ripped his hand off her face. She couldn't describe the noise she made; a choked sob, maybe, or a huff of air. There weren't any tears, though. She could be proud of that much. "I don't know," she said, venomously pleased that it was, basically, the truth. She only knew what Hvergelmir had told her. "I woke up on a park bench as you see me. I don't remember." He wanted to copy her, though. He wanted to purify. Hver and Babylon would want her to tell someone who wanted to be healed, as she was healed. Avalon squirmed guiltily, clenched her hands into fists and said, "If you let me up, I'll tell you what Hvergelmir told me. Okay? " That was fair, right, tit for tat? Or whatever the saying was?
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 7:33 am
She tolerated pain well enough, he recognized, as she braved what he knew hurt so terribly by experience - the linger of heat on his skin, melting fabric to flesh while it seared through all oxygen in his lungs. Every portion of him burned that night, another night, and he remembered so fiercely the utterly domineering agony.
"So you're telling me you're useless," he spat back, both unamused and unsurprised that his fate offered such a tantalizing lead and yet nothing would stem from it. With an exasperated sigh filtered between teeth, the creature wrenched his gaze from her shortly before he stood, and she grappled his attention yet again before he managed to leave her there for a better source of knowledge.
It gave him pause, and he looked down at her across the long bone beak that demanded great care in operating in such close proximity to others. "Is zat so?" She offered an opportunity that came to him as sheer bonus. Her freedom was already mentally assured in his mind, as he knew no reason to murder her beyond vengeance for an act that she claimed no memory for. She did not, as far as he could discern, act on an impulse sent by Metallia, but one misplaced motherly instinct toward her comrades and their so-sorry lives bathed in human connection and novelty. Her actions and his reactions found no further purpose than whims.
He hated it, part of him, the part that snarled so terribly at his recognition of her and all the white that dusted across her body like fresh fallen snow.
No one asked you for your opinion, Malicious. Finally the creature rose, both feet flanked near her ribs but a moment longer. "Fine, I'll take hearsay over claim of ignorance." Afterward he stepped across her and watched in mild expectation of another attack. You were nothing if not blisteringly persistent. The thought came with the duality of knowing that it pertained to both recipients, though he knew not which he directed it toward.
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 12:39 pm
She sat up and scooted back, one hand up to her face to try to scrape at the flecks of tar that Bischofite had left there. When they didn't yield, she dropped her hands and looked at them, a little disconsolately. She was so caught. "Lady Cosmos found me encased in crystal, somewhere," she recited. The Cosmos token which granted memories of what had happened still hung around her neck, tucked safely under her jacket. She didn't feel safe handing it over to a Chaos creature, no matter how human he was; it was hers, a gift from the woman who had saved her life and healed her again. "I guess I tried to corrupt my Wonder and the Code didn't like that?" She picked idly at the tar, and smiled when she managed to flake one piece off. Maybe she just had to wait for it to dry a little? It burned, though. "She took me to a safe place with many white trees, and she scraped out my starseed like you take the insides out of a pumpkin. I lost my magic and my power and all my memories, which isn't supposed to happen, but I guess a lot of this is weird. Once she knew I was going to live, she sent me back to Earth, where Hvergelmir found me." Avalon pillowed her chin on her hands. "I'm not gonna attack you again," she said. "Even though you messed up my hair. Babylon wouldn't like it if I attacked a human Chaos monster. He'd say But we could have saved him, Avalon, and I'd have to tell him he's wrong again." Then he would get sad, and maybe even cry. Sigh. Taking care of Babylon was so difficult sometimes.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 7:01 pm
Encased in crystal... Avalon must've transgressed rather severely to earn such a punishment. I wonder if any record of it remains in Negaverse archives... Or if that information is localized to each specific branch. Perhaps I can look into it myself, and discern what she might've done to demand such a fate. "Crystallization is a known Negaverse tactic for punishment - ze first example zat comes to mind is Charonite, who even now sits ornamental more zan anysing. But corruption of one's wonder should not incur Metallia's wras'... Somesing else must sport ze same or similar powers. Tell me of zis 'Code'."
She mentions a Lady Cosmos. The name sounds unfamiliar, but if she managed to purify Avalon without effective consciousness, then she may know what to do with my predicament. Hvergelmir, as a Page of Cosmos, found this hollow iteration of Avalon afterward - so I wager this Cosmos called her Page to finish with the b***h work of purification. If that is the case... Then perhaps Hvergelmir might manage an audience with Cosmos for me. I only hope that she can manage feats that previously trumped Iris.
Still, the whole of my memories is a hefty price to pay... Assuming that's the worst of it.
"You can tell your Babylon zat some sings just need to die. He would do best to learn it." Ruffling wings, he began the preening process while he listened for her explanations over the Code. It proved ample busywork to maintain his beleaguered image while he exercised his ability to extrapolate potential facts from raw information.
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