Magical training assisted in seeing the peculiarities of his magic - one he could see as both immensely helpful and equally impractical, but his wonder offered it to him alone and gave no other options. If Scholomance had another magic at its disposal, then perhaps that magic was allocated to a previous knight and therefore unusable by himself. Magic, his wonder, and knighthood itself existed as an intertwined enigma that held no easy answers - as soon as he thought he figured out one facet, it opened a surfeit of questions in reference to the rest.
He thought of Hvergelmir, and the answers she gave - the speculations alongside. She looked at her knighthood beyond accepted and basic values. Had he? Was he correct in looking at his existence as a knight being separate from his normal life, or was there an intrinsic tie between the two that he missed? Was he, therefore, a knight of Scholomance because he was Isaiah Zähne? In spite of? If he had different experiences, would he still be that knight?
Or did his predetermined knighthood shape his experiences?
Scholomance stopped his long walk when he became keenly aware of one change, which led to the recognition of a second change. First, he noticed a throaty darkness surging toward him, one slightly different from a Negaverse agent, and more different than a Dark Mirror senshi. Secondly, he became acutely aware that he did not know where he was, and could not recognize this part of town. It looked much too classy for his presence, with no bars in sight and restaurants down both sides with equally well-kept storefronts. Seasoned brand names peppered the strip mall on his right, with wedding retailers and suit tailors and all manner of expensive shops that he only ever imagined lately. He looked back just then, hoping to find the rare instinct that would inform him how to retrace his steps, but he felt nothing but that same blankness when looking at the bend in the street.
Scholomance was lost, and someone approached. Someone who may very well live in this area, and know it instinctively. Someone who would know where to take him for a quick win.
But, running forth into a blind search of familiarity promised similarly dismal results. He stayed, and expected.
frayedflower
Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2015 1:31 am
It wasn't an area Amphitrite was totally familiar with either - but she'd at least been here once or twice before, prowling for easy hits and starseeds to bring back to Umber. Maybe the train mission had already come and gone, but until he told her he no longer required her services, she would dutifully harvest research specimens for him to work with. She recalled notes, details of the people she took them from if he should ever ask.
She'd taken at least one tonight when she sensed the aura of a squire, bringing to mind the one that had just recently come between her and the basic senshi she'd been targeting - the white-haired one, the little idiot. When she caught sight of her quarry, her heels clicking lightly on the pavement - she could have pursued him by rooftop as she'd done with Victoria, but there was less fun in that, and it was a nice night. Cool, crisp, with the promise of rain on the horizon. Not the first such night, but it thrilled her, and quietly she hoped for the rumble of thunder to sound in the distance.
Yes. She was ripe for a challenge tonight, not an easy kill. Let him see her coming.
"Good evening, darling."
She crossed her arms as she strode closer, head held high.
When Scholomance saw her, he knew he didn't have to fight. His wonder made no vocal demands that he lay siege to chaos, nor did the code piece within it. But when he saw her, he recognized that this girl quite reminded him of the shattered doll that he faced with Gehenna - the one that released a volley of energy so brilliant and deleterious that he thought Gehenna might perish under its assault. Was she, then, related to the blonde in some way? Were they of a kind together?
Her offer to help implied no impetus to do so, but he took her at face value despite it. If she intended to attack him, she'd have done so by now. "You can, actually." He smiled, deep beneath the half-mask of teeth. "There's someone you might now. I think she's of the Negaverse, but I'm not certain. Her aura feels... Different from everything, but closest to the Negaverse. At least, she is to me." The miasma nearly overwhelmed him with their first meeting, he remembered, and he steadied himself against the pallet for fear he might faint. This girl felt most similar to her, and although they looked nothing alike for her seafoam green hair and her softer eyes and her black bathing suit of coral and sea. No, this Venus on a half-shell didn't share her appearance in the least.
But to continue required a measure of finesse that he learned from his years of customer service. He almost thanked himself for the honed skill before the words even found voice. "I met her before, and she got hurt. There was a hole the size of a grapefruit struck through her torso. I wanted to know if she's okay." He left out the part about the smoke venting from her form, about his companion who landed the blow.
She didn't know. She didn't need to.
"It's been a while since then. I don't imagine that anyone heals from that kind of wound quickly." Carefully, he refrained from summoning his weapon or crossing his arms. His fingers remained laced neatly before his waist.
frayedflower
Posted: Mon Nov 16, 2015 3:54 am
The moment he began to describe her, although Amphitrite could not know for sure, she had a sinking suspicion that it was Alkaid he was referring to. General Queens, they were not many, but they were undeniably Negaverse. Alkaid was, and sadly thus remained, the one of a kind, the first and only ascended senshi that Kurma had unwittingly helped to create. Her energy signature lay somewhere closest to corrupts like herself, but there would be none quite like her: exquisitely, devastatingly unique.
At first, she saw the fabric of that grotesque mask shift with his smile, and she smiled back in her would be charming, more intentionally disarming fashion as he spoke.
The smile fell heavily from her face as he went on to describe what had become of the 'someone' he was referring to. Rather, her expression grew hard and cold, even as dread began to twist at her insides. "I wouldn't know who you're talking about. I'd need more detail than some prose about a strange aura, darling," she slowly drawled out, her tone mostly unreadable for the ice that lay at the edges.
There was no way. Alkaid wouldn't allow herself to be harmed by someone so weak. She was powerful, too powerful, too cunning, too - it could not be her. Could it?
The ice proved apparent in her voice by someone practiced in the art of communication. She did not enjoy speaking with him, and he imagined that it had something to do with he being a Knight, and therefore on the 'wrong side' of the war, and she being part of the Negaverse (or so he guessed - he still wasn't entirely certain he wanted to make that assumption). But, sans one flag of neutrality, how was he to explain his lack of devotion to this role of 'enemy'?
But Scholomance acquiesced, closed his eyes momentarily, and fished from memory. "She had blonde hair, dreaded. It's not that common around these parts. Beautiful orange eyes, like citrus. Cracks in her skin, too, like your chest but they spread over her entire body. But she didn't look like they pained her. In fact, those smoldered orange when I first saw her; it didn't last for long, however.
"She had a very commanding presence. A very thick one. I imagine she wasn't told 'no' very often." Are you, I wonder? Do you know what it's like to be denied, Seashell girl?
He knew her power felt immense, and he imagined that the blows Gehenna sustained were indeed similarly powerful. Scholomance could not weather such magic, and even Gehenna fainted after the barrage. And while he stood before this seafoam girl as a squire, he explained that he met the creature as a page - he thought, surely, that she could not consider him the progenitor of the broken doll's pain.
But, similarly, he wondered if he trod too far already. If he asked too much of a transactional approach, whereas he should've opened himself to her as Hvergelmir had done to every officer approaching her. If that proved the case, then he would recalibrate that angle accordingly.
frayedflower
Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2015 3:56 am
There was no denying it now, either he was baiting her into an attack (less likely unless the white moon had laid out a very deliberate trap for her, and she doubted they had the capacity for something to elaborate) or he had in fact seen what he'd claimed to have seen. Her gloved fingers curled lightly at her sides, furling into themselves.
Did she think that Scholomance himself had done it, single-handed?
No. That would be a foolish thing to assume, given he was only a squire, and Amphitrite liked to think that she was by no accounts a fool. (Not anymore, anyway.) But did she think he had a role in it? - that he had in some way harmed Alkaid? Yes, that she could, and did, believe.
Either way, he'd either taken her name in vain, or he'd been part of a plot to destroy her - the sole member of her kind, and the beacon of promise that Amphitrite had begun to relentlessly pursue.
Unforgivable.
"Blessing of the Sea, " and for words that had been uttered so softly and almost sweetly, the shells that appeared on her forearms were anything but. Her eyes narrowed as she lunged at her without further warning, making an effort to look as though she were aiming for his chest - starseeds were forever vulnerable to their kind - but Amphitrite's true intention was to slam the side of his head if she could manage it.
Quote:
Super Sailor Scout Attack: Blessing of the Sea Rather than scallops, the shields on her arms form from the shells of pearl oysters. The inside is lined with nacre, the same material that forms pearls, thus making it more durable than the Gift of the Ocean. It will still shatter with two or three intense hits, though it handles smaller hits with much more ease. If used to augment a tackle, the shells will shatter, and the fragments could potentially be harmful to both Amphitrite and her target. Limit one use per battle, period.
If the girl knew the broken doll, he ventured to say yes. If she knew the answers he sought for that creature, he had no basis of determination. She offered him nothing but a small spoken phrase that he strained to understand. What he heard made little sense in the context of the conversation, and he was inclined to disbelieve his own ears until large shells appeared on her forearms. Then, he knew what he faced was magic, and he realized he knew very little of the magic that senshi wielded.
And this wasn't the most pleasant way of learning, either. She lunged at him, shells raised, and his eyes followed their hard exteriors, and he considered his magic in case it might work, but he lost track while the mind was turning and a hard cracks to the side of the head sent him stumbling in a darkened galaxy of vertigo. The pain exploded not far behind, sprawling all the way to his teeth nearest the injury, and he tented fingers over the impact site instinctively. Whether they actually assisted in mitigating the pain, he didn't know; he tried to ignore it altogether to focus on the fight.
But running away had always been his chosen modus operandi.
Scholomance summoned weapon to hand with a thought, and he wondered if his magic were enough distraction to pause her. If her assault might slow if she saw the way the world turned sour under the effects of the attack.
Instead he leveraged the cane toward the tip and brandished the weapon like a club held low. Backing away, he responded in the best manner he could to diffuse the situation. "You'd strike someone who takes no side?" He ventured. "You would kill me for knowing that she's hurt? You know she can't be attacked by me. 'Ascendant's Barrage' is a force that could stop me in my tracks. But not the person who struck her. I called for him to stop, if that means anything to you." If that meant anything to anyone. He started to doubt - these people placed such little importance on words.
frayedflower
Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2015 9:43 am
Only one facet of what he said in that moment truly meant a damn thing to her, and that was the very last thing; both an insinuation that he knew the true assailant, and that in his own words, he had rallied not to harm Alkaid. If any of this was, in fact, truth - in any case -
Amphitrite surged forward again, extending her hand palm first to deflect the would-be club if he happened to swing it fast enough to try and catch her. Her fingers ghosted up along the bleached white length to grasp then at his equally bony wrist, catching it tightly and giving a light twist.
In just so little time she had pressed herself flush against him, a tactic that had proven effective before, and the fingers of her free hand were at his neck, half-circling it with a light pressure that could easily be turned to more.
"Give me a name, darling, " she half-hissed, half-purred at the squire. "You take no side? Show me - just a name's all it takes."
Amphitrite's fluid movements wove through him like water, leaving the girl up against his chest in a breath. Her ability to do so only proved what he already knew - that Scholomance was no fighter. Scholomance knew nothing of countering a chokehold, or blocking an uppercut, or dodging an axe kick. He knew less still about how to circumvent magic - especially when it struck him in the face (which, naturally, still smarted).
And, perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him to find that there was something perversely exciting about her fingers around his neck, and her hand over his wrist. He knew nothing of what he could do to stop her like this, so he dismissed the weapon altogether.
Interestingly, he thought, he still couldn't read her.
Looking to her eyes, he answered her in practiced half-truths. "I know neither name. Not hers, not his. All I know is that he is a Mars knight, by the symbol he wears. But knights need no speech when they use their magic, so I learned nothing of him." Gehenna only volunteered his name long after the altercation ended and he woke from the exhausted stupor. Those times he considered endemic to their civilian friendship rather than powered alliance. Perhaps he should've considered Gehenna an ally, after all. But what, then, would happen if he claimed the side of Order officially? Perhaps that they would fight and he would ultimately die, or they would fight and triumph over the Negaverse, thereby ending the war. Once that happened, no more happy profiteering for Isaiah Zähne. Money grew slim without strife to drive his weapons sales.
"If we find each other in the future, I think you'll learn that mutually beneficial relationships are far more efficient than ones formed on threat and violence."
frayedflower
Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2015 1:09 am
Although her body was warm against his, her eyes were decidedly cool as they fell half-lidded, reflecting no more than Isaiah's reflection back at him - for the hole in her forehead, they seemed darker still. She took in what she had to say, and as she had been up until now, took his words with a grain of salt - it might be truth, it might be lies. Although it seemed an awfully elaborate and risky ploy if it were one, and she wouldn't know what end he sought to serve bar sparing his own skin.
Then again. People would do incredible things just to survive, wouldn't they?
Her lips curled into a smile at his last statement, a small peal of laughter bubbling from between them. "Funny - I've found the opposite to be true. And personally, I find this way much more fun - " She leaned up onto her toes for all of a few seconds to hiss in his ear, " - and I have a funny feeling - " The corrupt pressed closer. " - you do too, darling."
She tilted back down, tightening her hold on his wrist before releasing it, focusing her attention on giving his throat a definite squeeze - and with her hand now free, Amphitrite made to tug the mask down off his face. More to read. "Alkaid. Ascended General. Rank and name. - and have you nothing more to tell me, handsome?"
Really, there was no harm in giving that - if he were lying, soon enough she would come to claim his hide for sullying her name. Everyone should know her name, know and fear her. - although again. He could be lying about that too. Who knew with his kind where lies began and ended?
That's not a 'funny feeling', honey. That's my d**k.
His skin hadn't quite righted itself from the gooseflesh she gave him upon whispering in his ear, but he didn't mind the chill of it. "Let me give you a tip," he said with a smile - now bared beyond the mask, "look up the studies performed on torture and coercion as effective interrogation tools. Try to find as many different sources as you can to avoid the whole bias approach. I think you'll find there's a reason that the police don't rely on brutality as a means to get the information they wanted." But perhaps this seaform girl wanted the lies as much as she wanted the truths.
Her hand clamped and he did not wince, for it was an activity he often endured voluntarily. If nothing else, the temporary loss of breath accentuated the thrill. "Ascendant General Alkaid," he echoed back to her. It sounded foreign, the name, especially in conjunction with the rank. He wondered, then, what an ascendant general entailed. He knew of only the one, and that offered him no information to operate from. "And your name?" Would she command a similar title? A different one? A name every bit as foreign-tasting as hers?
Perhaps it was bad form to place his hands on his declared enemies, but social taboo never stopped him before. It simply urged that he remain covert about it. But Scholomance did not quash the urge, and slowly his weaponless hand found the small of her back. Petite she was, but not without muscle - not like him. She stood as no waif.
His gaze searched her face, darting from the flare of her nose to her dark eyes to the hole in her head and right down to her lips. He wanted to kiss her then, for all the perverse augmentations to her body. He wondered if they meant anything, for she seemed to think and feel perfectly fine - head and heart unimpeded. "Have you ever worked for a large corporation? If you haven't, I'll sum up my point - in a large corporation, you are bound to encounter fellow employees that are otherwise strangers to you. Sometimes these employees exhibit an unspoken bond with unknown coworkers, sometimes they don't even care that they exist, and sometimes they prefer to backstab so that they can ensure their own chances of success. I say this because the knighthood is much the same. We are all, effectively as I can tell, operating on our own schedules. There is no sense of unity or community that I know of. So for me to encounter a knight and not know his name... Well, it's become quite a commonality."
frayedflower
Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2015 3:23 am
So he sought to advise her now. How precious. "I'll be sure to look into that, darling, " Amphitrite purred out sensually, eyes following the curl of his lips. Although subconsciously, she was less aware of it than he would be, some part of her tensed at his words. Because yes, she was fully aware of the impact that brutality had on a captured party - in a way, it was the demon that haunted her dreams by night, wearing Leucite's face like a mask. "Aren't you so helpful."
Whether or not the story was true, saving his own hide certainly seemed a priority - as it'd be for anyone, she suspected - but he played his cards much differently than the likes of Valhalla and Ganymede. The latter especially had been most unwilling to cooperate, and she hadn't really tried since.
His lack of a wince was strangely intriguing - almost as much as her desire to see it. "My name... Amphitrite. Super senshi of shells." A throaty laugh bubbled from her throat, and in the cool night air, her breath fogged. "Not nearly as impressive. But that will change, given time." Or she hoped. Ambition was ripe on her tongue alongside the subtle purr of her voice. "And your name then, handsome?"
Her eyes flashed a warning at him as he touched her, but they were loose and unassuming enough that she did not push them away. Really, Amphitrite knew she was in no danger. She was the stronger here, and more to the point, even if she weren't, she had teleportation at her disposal. He didn't even have his weapon.
Not to mention she was more than aware of his eyes skimming her face - and even from an enemy, someone with an aura that sickened her and made her stomach churn, Amphitrite would never shy away from such attention. "Even if I had, I wouldn't remember, " she offered almost cheerfully, her eyes betraying nothing of her underlying bitterness towards him and his kind at her loss.
His analogy though. That was, perhaps, the most interesting thing she'd heard so far. Amphitrite's eyes glinted then, a hint of genuine interest there. "Oh? - is that so? - then tell me." Chin held high, she regarded him. "What sort of knight are you, then?"
'That will change'. Is she referring to becoming an eternal senshi, or is Alkaid's condition linked to hers? It would make sense, given that they both have holes that most people would die from, and impressively long hair. No batwings, though. But Isaiah decided on the stretch and confirmed to himself that, yes, Amphitrite wanted to reach the rank of Ascended General and yes, that meant there was reason enough to become a broken creature. He wondered what, exactly, provided the impetus; he was certain that looks weren't a part of that conclusion.
"Squire Scholomance," he responded in kind. "I suppose it doesn't sound very impressive, either." Knight of the Cosmos did, by virtue of standing as a soldier for something so vast and incomprehensible, but to be a knight of a planet based on death? Scholomance found such titles wanting. At least, from what Ploutonion had said, there's little cause for concern with wonders - he needn't continue babysitting his.
Plus, of course, weaponry and teleportation were two very distinct and very seductive benefits granted to agents. Therefore, to escape from each encounter unscathed required his careful sensibilities, and a lot more footwork since he lacked an oath to rely on to comfort others (not that he felt particularly smitten with the idea of dying if he laid a hand on someone). "But that, too, will change in time." He left his statement purposefully vague, in hope that she may construe it as consideration for joining the Negaverse's forces. He knew quite well the perks they had to offer - Cinnabar listed them herself - but his life just recently met an upturn that he was loathe to sacrifice. Scholomance, too, had not yet finished opening its secrets to the squire either.
"You wouldn't remember," he echoed back to her. "Corrupted, then. Do you think it changed your life for the better?" He was tempted to speak further; Scholomance quite enjoyed the tension of fingers on his neck while he rumbled out syllables.
Her question left him curious. Perhaps she hadn't acquainted herself with the astrological symbols growing up. He couldn't blame her; space was not everyone's interest. "I am a knight of Saturn. From what I've seen of it, the gas giant is a massive charnel house. Therefore, I guard the dead. Ridiculous, isn't it? I guard the people that finally need no guarding." He laughed gently. Her fingertips felt cold.
frayedflower
Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2015 6:09 am
Squire Scholomance. He did not offer his planet, although she could wager a guess from his garb. He was not the first knight of Saturn she'd seen - the tall one with the yellow eyes had interfered more than once, and at a glance the two might even seem related.
Scholomance was certainly less annoying.
"I don't know that I'd say that, " she said lightly, dismissing his self-deprecation with the same airiness someone may have discussed the weather, her brows arched slightly at the implication behind his mention of change. Was there perhaps hope for this one, then? - a chance to win him over? - or was it another ploy? Ploy upon ploy upon ploy, how much to be ventured and gained from such an encounter?
His aura still make her stomach twist as it was. But the sheer fact that she had to question as much as she was - he was not boring. He was not accusatory, so far. He was not like the Cosmos knight, asking series of questions to poke and prod at her.
Which was why given his question, although her fingers tightened enough to obscure the flow of air for several long moments (she rather hoped it bruised), Amphitrite laughed and readily answered, "Given the order left me there to die, yes - I'd say anything was a distinct improvement. The order can say what they want about corruption, " she angled her face just so for warm breaths to roll against the side of his neck in the cool fall air. "But rather than anything, they've given me everything. We take care of our own in ways you couldn't imagine, darling."
She let that statement linger, thoughts travel where they liked, and then couldn't help but laugh, threading the fingertips of her free hand almost affectionately through his hair. "Cute - but you misunderstand me. I know full well what planet you serve, handsome." Although that confirmed it at any rate. Her eyes narrowed a touch, not out of anything but shades of interest. "I meant in the 'corporate world' of knighthood you spoke of. Where do you stand, Scholomance?"
A woman's hand around his throat was a highly familiar feeling - one that invoked a heady allure with the simple squeeze of fingers. Scholomance issued little more noise than the shift of muscles and gurgle of saliva when his windpipe constricted. He refrained from stopping her. Perhaps he could've cast his magic, but he neglected that, too, for even as she let up on her grip, he felt the beautifully seductive sense of dominance rolling off her. Here was a woman who knew precisely what she wanted, and Scholomance wanted to match her. Perhaps he couldn't do it now, but with steady training...
"And how did they take care of you?" The breath on neck tantalized, the cool fingers against warm skin beckoned. Scholomance flatted his palm against the small of her back to draw her closer. He wondered if the rest of her felt as tight and fit. "Do they give you wages for your service, my dear? Did they set you up with an apartment? Did they forge a convincing resume, give you a new name and identity, front you some money to start a new life? Did they give you contacts to begin friendships among other agents? Did they give you a station of power? Did they give you power that you never had before?
"And at what price?" He scarcely breathed now, for he loathed to loose the scent caught from her hair. The slightly bitter waft of seafoam against the salted cleanliness of the ocean came to mind, and something spicier - ambergris and citrus, perhaps.
Sworn allegiance to Metallia, as Hvergelmir said. A lack of willpower beholden to yourself. And with all these people behind her... Am I supposed to pity them, or am I supposed to commend Metallia?
Scholomance's eyes lost some of their luster to the blatant misunderstanding. He did his best to carry the simile. "In terms of importance? I probably stand in the mail room. Well - no, that would place me as more important than I actually am. No, I'm more like a member of the consumerbase that's forced to do business with the company. Sort of like how you can't get internet in certain parts of DC unless it comes from Comcast. Internet is essentially a utility these days - you have to go through Comcast." He couldn't decide if he cared whether he answered her question properly; they could banter for hours without his complaint.
"I don't pretend to understand the purpose of the knighthood. I only vaguely know my own. And perhaps it's common sentiment to oppose Chaos, to take up arms against anyone garbed in black, but I haven't found that as part of my duties." If Blaine's reactions proved the litmus test of Scholomance, then the wonder cared little either way about Chaos.
