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 Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2015 5:13 pm
Lawrence arrived bright and early to Rodney's room, dressed in the usual eclectic fashion that was typical for Jan, jingling with gold and various gems. It felt satisfying to be back in his most familiar persona and for the first time in some time feeling stable and in control of what decisions he was making.
This Rodney chap seemed very...emotional and that was always something to be taken advantage of, it had been before his time on the island when he'd last had someone to use as a seeing eye dog towards art, to help define when a rich vibrant red meant love, passion or rage.
"You ready pardner?" he asked keenly at the door. "Time's a-wastin."
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Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2015 6:08 pm
"Pardner?" Rodney repeated softly, with a very small smile and returning in a playful tilt of his own gently southern accent, "I guess I'm ready to mosey."
The man he had exchanged DMs with had been very eloquent in his speech. He seemed slightly older, and slight. Rodney was not very tall, and made smaller seeming by his demeanor, but he was still taller than Jan. He never knew what to expect when meeting someone for the first time, although Jan did not seem...altogether unfamiliar.
He held out a pale hand. He had a weak, light grip, as if he was afraid Jan's skin was made of paper.
"Rodney Michaels. My partner is Seven."
Seven had lectured him mostly on not looking like a mark if they were going to the city, but the end result was the same. He had checked the weather in the vatican, which was mostly warm, and dressed in a light, muted-color shirt and jacket. All of Rodney's clothes were various shades of grey (although he had dressed that way long before the novel made his wardrobe into a joke). He also a sketchbook, and a small, unprofessional camera, which had not been working since he arrived.
Rodney's smell was muted, aside from the light musk of skin. His detergent, deodorant, and shampoo were unscented.
"At least we won't be running into any demonic activity," Rodney kidded softly again. He was in unusually high spirits.
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Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2015 6:23 pm
Lawr smiled gently at the imitation of his accent and extended his only hand - with another clash of bangles - for a shake. His skin was soft but his grip was firm. "Jan Larsson." he said with an eager brightness and the same strange slant of accent he had used initially. He did not introduce his weapon.
The Life hunter took in the other man with sharp efficiency and made a further estimation of what and who he was dealing with. It was somehow reassuring that Rodney did not turn out to be a gaudy bohemian but something softer and more muted, as if he wanted to vanish into the backdrop of life itself as not to offend anyone.
"Hah, if we do we will be in some darn good hands." he said. "Best always to be prepared though, the old saying goes that sometimes you find the darkest shadows closest to the light and you can never be too careful."
Turning to move along the corridor, he expected the other man to follow and continued to speak. "I'm sure we will be fine. I am excited for the food too, I will admit, I feel you cannot truly taste the artistic flavour of a culture and location without also sampling the cuisine."
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Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2015 7:19 pm
"Oh yes, real food," Rodney sighed. "But we're...not supposed to really meet anyone else. I mean, the people who work there- are we even allowed to visit the same place twice?"
For him, the best part of local, fresh food was the social part.
"I've been having a difficult time adjusting," Rodney admitted. He locked up before going after Jan, not sure what being a man in black entailed.
But it seemed lonely.
"Have you seen them in churches?"
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Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2015 7:46 pm
"Oh we are allowed to meet other people." Jan said with a wave of his hand. "Just not people we knew. Meeting individuals that we knew before would cause problems with the death cover story and put them in danger from horsemen. If we have never met them before, we should be just fine, and repeat visits well, I would assume those would also be fine as long as you didn't let them know where we really come from."
It was a pleasant day on the way to the portals and Jan seemed to be in a contented and positive sort of mood. "It is very hard to adjust, I don't think anyone truly does, unless they are more than a little unhinged as so many sadly are on this island. But we get by however we can and those of us who do care about others do our best to band together."
He laughed. "Fortunately not! I have managed to avoid crossing demons for the most part in my line of work, I have mostly run into horsemen. Hopefully we can keep it that way. "
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2015 7:41 am
"Oh," Rodney sighed again, happier that their post didn't mean that sort of isolation, "good."
He seemed rattled by the mention of Horsemen.
"You mean the Horsemen? They're here?" Rodney hiked his bag a little higher, suddenly questioning the way he was spending his time. "Then- we must not have very long..."
Could he afford to spend it selfishly and indulgently? How long did they have, days? Months?
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2015 7:48 am
"Oh they have always been here from what I gather." Lawrence said matter of factly. "They are a subtype of the Halloween creatures that we are supposed to fight, not quite biblical and I don't think anyone is sure if they spawned from the biblical concept or vice versa. Far from the singular entities described in the book itself they are clans with hundreds perhaps thousands of members. Conquest, Famine etcetera. At present they are quiet." And that was unfortunate, he very much desired to speak with the one who had plied him originally with moths again and to see what he could potentially offer her in exchange for a few more years.
"Do not worry yourself too much about it, we have plenty of time to relax a little and indulge, we are safe here."
He retrieved their co-ordinates from the computer and handed them to the hunter on duty habitually, still speaking to the other man. "They are not quite as hostile as you might imagine, they are as sentient as you or I."
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2015 9:21 am
"Ha." Rodney did seem to relax. Not the End of the world, just- similar terminology. "Not very informed, am I? For someone in the information division. I wish I could put myself to better use. Aren't there any books, or files?"
He had gotten the pamphlet, of course, which was a very quick introduction into the lifestyle, a bit like a something you might get moving into an apartment complex.
But he was here, this was it. If anyone knew the answers to all the big conspiracies and events, everything from cryptozoology to the supernatural, it should be this island. Everyone here, however, seemed mostly concerned with combat training and the location of the cafeteria. If there was a definitive almanac of creatures and event, he would happily read through it.
"It seems like I've spent my whole life searching for answers, and everyone here has them, but they're all asking...different questions."
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2015 9:40 am
"There is a library, and various things one could potentially read around the island, all you need to do is ask pardner. I can show you if you'd like, I do enjoy reading myself, it passes the time when things are quiet and there is not a great deal to do. Some of the works in the Deus library rival even the more fantastical stories I heard in my old line of work, and frankly that is saying something."
The portal powered up behind them and he explained. "I had a long career before finding myself here, one of my occupations was, believe it or not, a psychic. Primarily a pet psychic for the sake of my own sanity but sometimes I would branch out to humans for special circumstances. As you can imagine, it was never two days the same."
He laughed. "And that is very, very true. Most of the questions asked here are how can we murder the unknown. There are very few, if any people asking should we?"
"After you." he said, sweeping his injured arm.
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2015 8:40 pm
"Oh. A library. If you'd be kind enough. Do they keep reports?"
Rodney listened attentively, and seemed to melt at the mention of pet psychic. "You worked with animals. I've always been sensitive, too."
He flinched at the murder statement. The idea of killing...he couldn't. He forged ahead, saying only, "Should is the most important question. "
Rodney had never been to the Vatican City.
He was not Catholic, but he was familiar with the wealth of statues, and the idea of seeing it all in person made him ache. This kind of magic came with a very high price, but to be here. To see it.
He took a deep breath of air that was not tinged with salt and island breezes, the cobbled streets interrupted with hard-edged paint and lined with traffic lights.
It was still morning, and dark. Quiet. They had started as early as their day constituted, and the air was crisp.
"Where to first?" Rodney asked, his voice slipping underneath the still instead of imposing on it.
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2015 1:37 pm
"As far as I am aware there are reports kept on every mission that has ever been executed in the name of the organisation, the levels of classification understandably vary. I imagine much of the basic work should be accessible however and things old enough to be declassified." At Rodney's enthusiasm he did smile and nod. "Indeed, I felt it was only appropriate after working as a veterinary surgeon to utilise at least some of my skills alongside my unique spiritual gift."
Lawrence on the other hand had been to the Vatican City various times in his life, there was something of an allure to the place where so much wealth, art and religion converged. He had always enjoyed walking the streets and imagining just how much blood had been spilled either here or in the name of the corrupt powers which had taken temporary resident at the helm of the power within the city. Such good and such evil side by side, twisted up until people saw only one side or the other. It had been a long time and things had changed, though only the veneer, in ancient spots like this much stayed the same, buildings endured and the street organisation changed around them.
"Anywhere you might feel like." Lawrence said. He had no preference, he had not come to bask in the ambience of the city itself but to bask in the naive delight of the other man, to watch him and to try to understand what it was that made something so fragile seem so curiously strong. "We can proceed directly or we could simply meander."
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2015 9:35 pm
"Let's walk a while," Rodney suggested with a small smile, "maybe stop by a café, if you see one that looks um, tempting." He used the word with sly caution, as if he had said a joke that was in slightly bad taste.
For him, the soft morning light made the city look like an impressionist painting, although he was not a painter.
He could identify the stone. A city was a wilderness to him, the rock like wildflowers. Granite, sandstone, limestone. But it was marble that he longed most to see. The translucency and warmth of the stone made it so close to skin. Rock had an old and pressed history, older than any person. As he thought the names, Seven listed a different and stranger set of names.
Garblerock, Meltstone, Charybdis.
Rodney had almost forgotten. What were you made of? he asked.
Grimstone. Watch your pockets.
Seven's totem was a rocky bangle, and Rodney used him to keep his hair tied back. He rested there now, on the back of Rodney's neck. Rodney patted his pockets.
Do you really think we have to worry?
Yeah. You're a tourist. This is touristopia. You don't have to wait on this light, you can just go.
Rodney looked at the empty morning street, and slowed his stride to wait on the light anyway.
"Would you mind...answering some of the big questions?"
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2015 4:47 pm
It felt pleasant to move through the hazy morning in the company of someone who was new to him and who in so many ways was pure, sheltered from the island and sheltered from what he walked with. Rodney had not heard the public denunciations on twitter or in person and saw no reason to doubt his companions humanity. It was a breath of life into the pale man and the fact that he felt it here, in the ancient hulking presence of sleeping Catholicism was not lost on him. It was a biblical line he had always resented and least puzzled over, God had formed man from dust and breathed life into him and henceforth he was alive, that was how it went, and yet, despite having unmistakable life coursing in his veins, breathing, eating, sleeping like the rest of god's little creatures, there were those who said he was not human at all, just a doll, just dust. Rodney did not think this, and there was something refreshing about being treated like a human subject to novel things like temptation. Perhaps he was tempted at times, but it was certainly not in the same way as conventional humans were, there was a certain degree of longing involved in human temptation he had read, yearning which ran right down to the bones and a sorrow and melancholy over the factors which prevented one from acting, it was something rich and beautiful. For him there was simply the restlessness, more akin to a tic or a reflex than anything that could be defined as beauty, he acted or he did not act and it did not seem to matter which path he took.
"I have always felt in these cities that one could almost inhale the history and drink it in like a fine wine were it not for the smog, were it not for the grating onslaught of tourism and the modern world." he mused as they went, and eyed a woman wearing a loose shirt was some nonsensical state and number emblazoned on it as they passed her. It endorsed a team which had likely never and would never exist. It was a nonsensical affront, someone with crusted infected feet treading upon hallowed ground. The restlessness stirred in him and it was only a life of long conditioning which stayed him from acting, though he envisioned what he should do to make them fit, to make them truly suit this city. It was a burden to know the nature of humanity and yet have to exist amongst the thronging press of mortality, burdened by their own carnality and ignoring the sweet call of refinement, of music, spirituality and art. The renaissance was long departed, relegated once more to the minds of a select and fading few.
Rodney was given a gentle and beatific smile for his question. "That depends on what sort of questions those would be." he said. "But within the bounds of my own limited knowledge, I will certainly do what I can."
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2015 8:01 pm
Rodney's mouth tilted in a small smile. "Seven was complaining that we were tourists. I don't think people change, in any era. For...better or worse. Any history would only be a costume change. When it's personal, art is only a perspective. Preserving something intangible. Something that...only happened once. In one mind. Even if it's a copy, the hand...betrays itself."
To come look at art, for Rodney, was not distant from meeting people.
The light turned, and he walked, turning over the first question
"Do they know what happens after? Death, I mean."
Rodney felt like he knew. Just asking felt like doubt, but to deliberately ignore facts, on either side the facts fell, seemed worse. He just had faith there was a right answer, that everyone would arrive at it, with time. Even if the middle path seemed incomprehensible.
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2015 8:46 pm
Lawrence paused for just a second at the prospect that they were tourists. "I would only be a tourist if I was here simply for pleasure. I am not, I am here as a scholar, as a student, a disciple. And I could argue that in some ways I also belong here, as much as the buildings, as much as the art. Tourist has such a negative connotation." And he thought of the guides with their throng of mixed followers, some impressed, others bored, treading the worn tracks of the masters in the hope that some flecks of enlightenment might stick to their uncultured hides. He smiled. "And people do stay the same, I agree, the same flaws, the same virtues written out over and over again. But they are washed away by time, until only their brightest points remain like slow exposure photography."
He did not seem concerned by the other man's waiting on the lights on an empty street, it spoke of something in him that respected rules, that did not resist or rebel, or at the very least ample patience.
"Well." he said, and exhaled slowly. "They know parts, fractured and scattered snapshots. The literature is sketchy, as is all literature, but it appears that when we die there is a chance that we can end up part of Halloween in some way, though accounts are vague. My weapon is a ghost but there are strange almost human facets to him and sometimes I wonder. Perhaps." and he hesitated, looking up at the sky overhead. "Perhaps we don't know anything at all. Perhaps it is just one potential path of many. We cannot piece together the jigsaw from two pieces. I personally am more concerned in my own way with what makes us human and what sets us apart from those creatures we are supposed to deal with." Rodney got a calm glance and he wondered if Deus had destabilised the things he'd formerly believed. It was impossible to tell.
"There are a lot of questions Rodney, and I would not be quick to believe anyone's answers, even mine."
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