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 Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2018 6:48 pm
Zircon.
That was the name he had been given. That was the name that had been etched in Emrys' mind for days now, ever since his husband had said it, ever since he had learned just who it was that had taken half of Eurydike's eyesight from him and left him for dead.
The sense of frustration had been welling inside of Emrys for weeks. He wanted desperately to be able to do something; to be able to take away some of the burden that Eurydike always carried because his husband was simultaneously disabled and anxiety-riddled all at once. It was always Eurydike who protected him. Always Eurydike who stood up for him. Always Eurydike who took the full brunt of everything, every attack, every bad thing that came their way.
Well, no more. No more of one sided bravery, no more of one sided protection. Eurydike was his husband, his partner, his soulmate. There was not going to be any more imbalance, and Eurydike losing half of his vision had been the last straw.
Emrys was not quite sure where to look for Zircon. There was not exactly a good way to call out a Negaverse General that you wanted to speak to, and besides, that was dangerous all on its own. But it hadn't stopped him from screwing up his courage and patrolling on his own whenever Eurydike was otherwise occupied, the sort of thing that he never used to have done because he was too scared.
Too cowardly.
Not anymore.
He was, at present, making his way through one of the darker streets, dimly lit by yellowish bulbs, high heeled boots making soft scuffling noises on the snowy sidewalk. It was just past midnight; he had told Eurydike that he'd had a DJ gig, which had been true, but it had ended almost an hour prior, Emrys glancing sideways at a closed shop whose windows were frosted over with ice.
It was cold. And he wasn't sure how much longer he should be out on his own, but he wasn't about to go back just yet.
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Posted: Sat Mar 02, 2019 11:18 pm
Zircon had a privilege few of her peers could boast--full coverage in winter weather. Unlike most of her fellow officers or senshi, she was perfectly comfortable to roam around during cold nights, where lesser people may have stayed indoors. It made for easy hunting with so few auras on patrol, and Zircon appreciated every advantage she could get. She could have forced her team to accompany her for the safety in numbers, but she'd done them the small mercy of relieving their duties for the rest of the holiday season, to spend time with their families as they required. It was no kind of life, to fight a war and not reap the spoils of its victory with the people who mattered most. She saw a hollow look in so many agents' eyes, starved and dependent, and would not let that sort of fate befall Sweetite, not while she was under her wing. Sinoite...was too much like her as a lieutenant, Zircon was afraid, impulsive and standoffish and prone to error. It would be more work to keep the reluctant agent focused and sharp, perhaps not possible.
(Zircon didn't care to look in mirrors much. She didn't want to see what was left in her eyes anymore.)
A unspoken side-effect of Thraen's medical care were Zircon's hands--as a civilian, they shivered and ached, fingers broken in too many pieces to ever quite set right. But as a general, the prognosis was even more damning--it was no longer a matter of simply reaching into someone's chest to rip out their starseed. She had to focus, her fingers moving through subspace like she was sifting through mud, sluggish and slow. She'd hoped with time, with practice, the skill would return to her, but no amount of restorative work seemed to cure the aches and spasms that made harvesting difficult. Usually, that meant she had to pin down victims, feel them squirm for their life in vain while she searched for a way to split the veil into their chests and take the seed, like a delicate surgery that she was forced to perform with oven mitts on. It's where she was currently, her knee pinning a late-night pedestrian to the concrete while she rummaged in the space between his shoulder-blades.
But the flicker of an order aura touched her senses, and she pulled away, glancing out into the night air. Frowning, Zircon stood with no starseed in hand, unwilling to continue with the procedure if she might be at risk. She focused on the aura, closing her eyes, and then pulled space around her--in the teleport, she suddenly felt the aura must closer, a sickly candle flame instead of the lingering smell of smoke. Lesser than hers. Perhaps another victim waiting to offer themselves up.
"Go home," she called out into the night, and her voice echoed across the snow. "Leave now, and nothing will happen."kuropeco I was like oh hey I'm a month behind on this tag I should really get to it--AND IT'S MARCH
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Posted: Mon Mar 04, 2019 4:30 pm
He felt it.
The power signature slid through the air like oil in water; a stark and unforgiving feeling of Chaos that dragged at ones senses. Emrys lifted his head and a cold breeze ruffled his hair, whipping the red and black strands against his pale, freckled cheeks.
Winter was a bitter thing. The voice that called out to him was less bitter, but no less unwelcome, and Emrys' throat felt dry with the effort of fighting all of his baser, more shameful instincts; the strong desire to run away, the sudden anxiety that welled in his chest, heartbeat fluttering rapidly like a bird in a cage who couldn't fly.
Leave now and nothing will happen.
They couldn't see each other. He could leave. He could walk away from this, from whoever it was, and that would be that. He didn't even know if this was Zircon or not, only that they - she? - was Chaos and that they were stronger than he was. The power signature was a surge of strength, something that Emrys himself was severely lacking in.
He could run away and then what would that accomplish? Hitch would still be at home, missing an eye.
He took a deep breath.
"No thanks," said Emrys, willing his voice to be calm. "I'd rather stay here, if it's all the same to you."
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Posted: Mon Mar 11, 2019 8:39 am
Zircon always tried to be civil, at least when it came to knight auras--it was less work on her part to take the peaceful route against people who those who still belonged to earth, but were simply misguided by a lack of connection to the true cause. Still, many times and this night included, her tokens of goodwill were turned around and spat in her face, insubordinate and stubborn as knights were known to be. She tilted her head, listening for the response, and teleported again--this time even closer, on the rooftop of a nearby business. From her perch, Zircon saw a shock of red hair against a turquoise jacket. Her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Zircon called, sitting primly on the lip of the office roof. She crossed her legs beneath her, leading with the good one, her prosthetic tucked underneath. “Or maybe you didn’t hear me correctly, or something got lost in translation, because what I said wasn’t up for debate.”
Zircon folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t have time to play with some little squire or whoever else he might call in distress--there were still starseeds to collect and energy to harvest. “So let’s try this again. Leave. Throw down your glamour and go home, forget you were ever here. I’m being generous--the last person who was so blatantly rude wasn’t half as lucky.” Her eyes crinkled like she should be smiling, but her lips stayed flat. An inside joke, perhaps.
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Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2019 10:48 am
He couldn't quite tell where her voice was coming from. Emrys' head turned first down the road to the left, then to the right, careful not to keep himself looking in the same direction for too long. Her aura was stronger now, as he drew closer; a palpable, physical thing that pressed down on him, a reminder that she was stronger and he was weaker.
He would not back down. He would not run away.
His fingers clutched the staff. When she spoke again, she was closer now, too close, and Emrys lifted his chin, his heart pounding a staccato rhythm in his chest. Whoever she was had teleported, that much he knew; and it was again a reminder of just how out of his own depths he felt.
Stay strong.
Stay focused.
Remember Hitch.
The voice was coming from above now. Emrys slowed his steps and this time, his gaze rose skyward, until he could see a figure sitting on the edge of a nearby building. If she had not been speaking to him in that tone of voice, he might have just thought she was stargazing.
"No," said Emrys again, and this time his voice was stronger, less of the tremor audible. "I will not leave. I'm searching for someone, and I will not leave until I find them."
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