|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Jan 19, 2017 6:43 pm
After the initial push of assignments, Scholomance's schedule evened out into weekly meetings at a rotated location. Often they left him the meeting place at a dead drop location, and left him little more than an hour to make the travel time. The arrangement itself proved ingenious in its means of preventing interference; without his signet ring, Scholomance lacked a way to call for assistance even if he found reason to do so.
Tonight, the still-withered knight knew he needed to make his round to the dead drop. Doing so while still impaired by his recent trip to Scholomance demanded the aid of Zalmoxis - the horse often carried him at length of late. They crested the requisite buildings, gabled rooves, and parapets to approach the nestled area, where a hollowed-out tree stump in the back of a private residence offered the simple folded paper. Inside, the paper simply listed a '2', which he knew indicated the old Circle K and its collective shitheap of deferred maintenance. The last visit to the area had him chasing down a senshi alongside one of their corrupted magic-wielders. He wondered if, perhaps, this meeting would offer much of the same.
Scholomance had a half hour to make fifteen minutes of travel, and spent the extra time stopping into one of the overnight locations for Starbucks. Placing an order for a flat white and a generic latte wasted little time overall; the store looked nigh dead for its lack of customers. The ponytailed teenager behind the counter spared enough empathy and sense that she offered him a tray for holding the pair of drinks. He thanked her, tipped a dollar, and left.
In returning to powered state, Scholomance placed his bribery purchases on Zalmoxis' shoulders as he mounted the horse. Travel demanded another thirty seconds of his summon's speed, and then another six on foot. Soon the surrounding area transitioned from well-kept shops and immaculate storefronts to the familiar, almost homelike dilapidation wrought by years of deferred maintenance. Graffiti and broken glass replaced the polish in which he now lived. Scholomance tried not to dwell on the memories stirred, and instead cut through the overgrown basketball court to reach the back of the Circle K. This time of night, surprisingly, no dealers hung about for sale of their most popular Special K.
His bribes sat upon the flat edge of an aluminum trash can lid, and Scholomance himself sat on one of the overturned boxes near the dumpster. The age-old smell of rotting garbage permeated the air, intermixed with old piss and a faint trace of crack. The Negaverse would arrive soon, he knew.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 20, 2017 7:14 pm
A general's aura came to life, permeating so far and further than that of the trash to those with the nose for them. Schörl herself evaluated the feel of the air on the dilapidated block: one knight. Barbary lifted a paw showing three claws for the number of others nearby. The convenience store clerk, one driver, one customer.The dragon cane clicked less sharp on macadam, but more grated. There was a scent of coffee, espresso, too high class for the four-day-old drip tradition of such an area. It followed to around the corner, to the strong center of the Order aura and the Saturn Knight himself. He fit right in. Oh look, someone already brought the trash out. "Your research must have been short-handed of late, Solomonar. Enough to interrupt our businesses together. You have been absent."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 21, 2017 2:08 pm
Scholomance never knew that a wrench lay in his guts until it twisted with Schörl's appearance. He felt the tool twisting bile up into its throat, slowly and with a certainty matched only by the general's gait. Immediately he regretted picking up any second beverage; giving to the enemy that maimed him felt utterly wrong.
With her arrival came a dichotomous reaction, however - beyond the cringe in her auric prevalence came a base excitement, a want, that he never expected - like Schörl's presence beckoned him with an exquisite reward that he felt familiar with and yet never experienced. He felt like he faced down a dangerous stranger that offered him another chance at chasing the dragon. He tried to dismiss it.
Short-handed. Are you trying to make puns of what's left of me or did that one just 'slip out'? Hazel eyes narrowed at her but he knew better than to advance with witty repartee. "You know it's been short-handed." He tried to keep his tone even, distant, almost polite were it not for the bitter edge. "Someone tried to kill me. I had to spend some time recuperating. Without my signet ring, I can't get these messages across to you." He expected such a declaration would not see his ring returned — the Negaverse made good on their deal of holding ot hostage. Schörl herself orchestrated at least that much. He knew not whether she hand-picked the rest of his assignments, or the agents that went alongside them. Perhaps she did. Maybe that was Cinnabar.
Which, notably, the dragon-lady went absent.
"I don't see your partner. Is she not skulking around?" While he wanted to look about for her, he kept his gaze trained on Schörl. How are you going to cut more off of me without her? ivynian 2nd paragraph edit - included some reactions that slipped my mind. schörl can pick up on these, as you see fit
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 23, 2017 8:50 pm
"She may be." Schörl drummed fingers of two hands over the spread wings of the dragoncane's headpiece. "You're old enough to longer be mistaken that espionage of war is governed like high school truancy. " "You make your drops and meetings unless you arrange otherwise with the parties when they personally see your condition. The world powers have seen plenty of spies meeting their contacts while still nursing bullet wounds. Meanwhile, you expect a doctor's excuse and trust to continue. You missed..." "Two. " The green General clipped the number in her mouth. "Three mishaps is your limitation trust. You're treading dangerous lines with a poor running leg. I suggest you sue for pardon, and explain your excuses more fully. "
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2017 7:58 am
Scholomance knew the dangers of talking back in these situations, yet felt unable to stop himself as his anger frothed beyond his ability to swallow it. The half-mask worn hid away signs of his growing sneer as he spoke. "Yes, and like you said, they were spies. What the ******** is there to spy for with the White Moon? With Knights? You should know they're all scrambling about on their lonesome, trying to beat everything by themselves. You know they're a guerrilla organization of s**t and piss and that the last time they all bandied together, you had a nice pile of their dead bodies in your ********. Spies…" He closed his eyes to prevent rolling them.
Scholomance shifted his position against the dumpster. He would get caned for this, or he would not. The predictability of the outcomes did not diminish his fear, however, or his sneaking suspicions that he may yet lose more to her.
Still, admitting the truth posed its own hairy complexities. Scholomance knew better than to think about them. He forced himself to act without pause for reconsideration. "My wonder has an ancestor that's supposed to govern me in the affairs of Scholomance, but lately he decided to try his hand at murder. He's been getting a little restless after being stuck in those dead halls for a thousand years, and he figured that the best way to escape to whatever salvation awaits him was to kill his predecessor. Or maybe he just got tired of me working with the Negaverse. He doesn't know what to make of you and your friends.
"He tried to kill me with some kind of poison. I don't know what it was. It hurt, and laid me out for days. I don't think I'm completely through it." The evidence lay in the way his veins hummed at the mere proximity to Schörl's darkness - a familiar call that he rejected years ago. The promise of reward beyond its natural means beckoned him, and left him wanting all the same.
"It's all I can think to give you. And coffee," he added, with a reluctant nod toward his recent purchases.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2017 10:49 pm
Hazel eyes widened, lips parted over toothsome grin, scored by the pique. Not rolling over dead yet, too spent to buck the yoke. Good for the bearing rein."The hazy man that appeared and disappeared, near the bone creature and the glass disks. " It had been a strange place, but in the year since clarity and the experience of others picked it out as a Wonder. The very Scholomance he bore the name of. Does the bone thing still exist? Make of us...has he had chance to meet agents other than that time we were drawn there? And they have not widely reported on the Scholomance? The files may tell. I want to know more, when the time is right. In idle fashion, like to any equestrian come to a club at end of day and ready for their sherry, Schörl loosed the cravat at her throat. The trinket, a starseed, tinked ever so faintly in an outstretched hand. " A treat, and wonder of wonders, two drinks to wash it down if you need." "Chew, chew, chew, it is the thing to do, Scholomance."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2017 7:43 pm
"You remembered." None present for the incident on Scholomance spoke of it - at least not to him. He found it a curious shift from the usual gossip and commiseration often done out of uniform; was it, then, a superstitious affair that one did not talk of unresolved conflicts? The knight doubted it. More likely, those involved had forgotten, or simply found it less useful to discuss since the incident did not involve or affec their own wonders. Or perhaps it was none of the above? One aspect remained certain - the Negaverse recalled its participation there. Interestingly, they found no use or need of returning to the place.
Perhaps it was Schörl's easy dispensation of the starseed that led him to accept it so willingly. He found no reason to refute it, though he wondered what cause or interest she had in giving it to him. Such became clear with her whimsical rhyme, so starkly out of place in the context of their meeting. Schörl delighted in upsetting social mores, it seemed.
If I need? You mean these things don't taste like turkish delight, for all the Negaverse eats of them? He knew the Negaverse reaped benefit from their consumption. Starseeds were exactly that, for all he knew, and nothing concerning what he knew of them gave any indication of ill will toward the imbiber. Gruesome cannibalistic connotations surrounded them, however, and afforded only a rudimentary pause in the encouraged process. Taboo of ingestion seldom stopped him before; some of his favorite substances involved battery acid, freon, acetone, and drain cleaner in their making. Who was he to complain about the composition of a soul if it promised revitalization?
Besides, whole cultures thrived on the idea of eating human flesh and reaping the properties of that who once lived.
Scholomance used two fingers to pull away his half-mask and popped the small gem between false teeth. It cracked without great resistance under the pressure of his molars, and loosed the first of its energies. Immediately, the urge to vomit leaked bitter bile into his mouth to mix with the soul. He tried to chew as instructed, but found the rocky mash forming in his mouth to be most detestable. While trying to swallow, his body revolted against the act in a way he hadn't known for many years. Shoulders lurched in the gag, and he reached for the coffee on promise of getting the substance down and out of his taste. Smartly, he sought Schörl's intended drink. The coffee, still hot, charred tongue helpfully in swallowing back some of the larger chunks of rock.
There, true pain overcame him. Doubling over, the knight groaned with sudden, spreading pain that emanated from his stomach throughout his body. The agony of it rooted into him like vines, twisting into knots and bending his bones to their vindictive will. He could not speak, and the ever-present convulsions purged the mess onto the dirtied street. Coffee and soul fragments made their home among used rubbers, rotting food, and discarded cardboard. Still, the pain of it formed a film of sweat over the whole of his body, contrasting starkly with the desperate exhilaration felt about the affair. He wanted to keep vomiting.
He wanted to, and did, with fragmetns of nonsensical sensory inputs coming out of him with each retch. The touch of fingers to his shoulder, rushed words, a faint image beyond his grasp. Scholomance tried to make sense of none of it. Even afterward, when nothing more came of his stomach, his body wrenched itself into knots. he wondered if the soul chose to torment him for his folly. "Why in the <********>," he started, voice ragged and rasped, "do you eat starseeds if they do that?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2017 2:06 pm
Prior experience warned well that the Knight's reaction was likely one to be wettish. Schörl was not disappointed, and stepped with precision out from the immediate Splash Zone to a safer spot of pavement to enjoy his spasms. "We cut our teeth on desomorphine to weather it." Words spoken with arched brown and entertained, faux-incredulity. She considered a moment at his hunkering and trembling, his third point-of-reference hand on the dumpster to maintain balance and not fall into his own mess. "Don't fail again, if you don't like the flavour of it." "We appreciate the things you have so far managed to accomplish, but these have been tasks of good faith and standing equivalent to our Lieutenants and Captains. You are a Knight, like to a General- you are capable of far more. You brokered Intelligence, before. We will try that again. Make for me a list of names, of Knights: the keys of civilian life that unlocks the glamour from them. The White Moon and the Knights may be fractious, but they make friends and small cliques. You can accomplish this much." -to buy more of yourself, your days, your safety.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2017 2:57 pm
You're full of s**t. The scathing response shone in his eyes. The threat remained, however, and Scholomance tightened his jaw against the thought of future incidents. He knew not how many starseeds one could ingest, and cared not for learning more consequences of it. Already his stomach twisted and roiled with the taint of another soul, and the pain flooded outward to a dull ache. Still he felt sick, still he wanted to retch until little more but stomach acid came to taste.
He remained doubled over as he looked up at her, gaze baleful but tongue held neatly in check. You think anyone would make the mistake of outing themselves to me? Hardly. He wanted to rebel, to rail against her, but he knew the results of such a misstep. He knew that, eventually, he would possess nothing more of use to them and Schörl would be the one to dispose of him - or convert him into their ranks for further use.
All he could manage, he found, was quiet acceptance. If Schörl wanted a list of names, then she would have one. Denial of that was grounds for further injury, more starseed swallows, and potentially worse aftereffects. He nodded and forced himself to straighten.
"Am I dismissed?" He managed at last, voice a rasp from the vomiting. He felt exhausted, sick, and weak - if the Negaverse fed each of them starseeds somehow, then there would be no further resistance. He couldn't fight anyone in such a position.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 04, 2017 12:41 am
Schörl smiled at the daggers of his eyes. Here was nourishment in plenty of a different sort than food, stolen energy, or starseeds. "I look forward to our next meeting, Solomonar. I hope it will be most enlightening. " Such spirit, sometimes. There might be a few more dances in the old boy, yet. She turned, and vanished.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
