Nameless Assailant:
Antiquity Tea: A cafe opened only within the past couple of years and yet had grown to become one of a few prosperous businesses in such a short time, rumors circulate of some outside influence and yet none have been validated even with persistent questioning of the owners. The cafe itself gains its name from its styling. Extravagant pointed arches obviously influenced by the gothic styling of the city itself line it's exterior whilst it's namesake comes from the fine furniture which has been used to decorate the interior. From masonry to carpentry, what could be classed as works of fine art are used as nothing more then what they were initially intended providing a place to meet and dine not only for the elite and wealthy, but also the common man whom could easily afford the prices of the lesser items which were for sale.
The first pawn had been moved, but what would be the response?
Obsidian hues remained cast upon the Ivory tower has he had come to call it, the manor where the new mayoress of Tia had taken residence after seizing the moment and the city away from it's people. The results of such a bloody battle will still prominent among the city streets, Tia already being home to the living dead as they wandered the streets perhaps finding kinship with the sleeping dead whom littered the streets displaying for all to see their premature extinguished lives given for a cause that was now all but lost. What little moonlight escaping the overcast skies striking the building, outlining it's frame whilst the windows providing little lit keyholes into the would of the powerful. But what of the common man whom was still in mourning at the passing of kinship fighting a cause for the good of the people? Would they accept the new ruler despite the bodies of the fallen which had littered the streets? It was arrogant of her to think that taking control of a city would be so easy. Whilst the people still bitter of how the power which they fought for was wrestled away from their grasp, the mumbling of those that passed him on the street whilst entranced in conversation with the other would suggest otherwise.
The first pawn had been moved, but what would be the response?
Obsidian hues remained cast upon the Ivory tower has he had come to call it, the manor where the new mayoress of Tia had taken residence after seizing the moment and the city away from it's people. The results of such a bloody battle will still prominent among the city streets, Tia already being home to the living dead as they wandered the streets perhaps finding kinship with the sleeping dead whom littered the streets displaying for all to see their premature extinguished lives given for a cause that was now all but lost. What little moonlight escaping the overcast skies striking the building, outlining it's frame whilst the windows providing little lit keyholes into the would of the powerful. But what of the common man whom was still in mourning at the passing of kinship fighting a cause for the good of the people? Would they accept the new ruler despite the bodies of the fallen which had littered the streets? It was arrogant of her to think that taking control of a city would be so easy. Whilst the people still bitter of how the power which they fought for was wrestled away from their grasp, the mumbling of those that passed him on the street whilst entranced in conversation with the other would suggest otherwise.
Within his short time of revealing himself once more to those within Tia whom had the capacity to understand such complex energy signatures which seemed a constant albeit shadowed presence within the arcane web which stretched through Valucre, he had already learned a great deal regarding the current situation which presented itself to him. However to delve deeper into his history within Valucre one could not consult any history text or antique painting for he was not contained within, and yet through his long years upon this rock he had influenced life to flourish where otherwise it could of failed. This complex creature would not release this information freely however, locked within the confines of his mind only he knew how long he had actually been behind the scenes and even to his time scale this stretched longer then he would of liked.
This however was the way things were, resigning himself to the knowledge that despite his current displeasure at the situation as it had presented itself so long ago it had given him time to adapt and study this world far beyond others could even comprehend. Within his mind were the secrets to which scientists even now struggled to grasp the concept and the answers to the questions which would follow, even if they stretched beyond the confines of Valucre and into the heavens.
A gentleman by the name of Narius Dilinti, the owner of Antiquity Tea had come out of the building and placed a full glass of the finest red wine which the establishment had to offer in front of Animula. "One will take offense if he finds this glass as full as the rest." Obvious comical intentions with his statement yet the curiosity as to why rang through his words, Narius offering a short nod after formal greetings had already taken place previous. Elongated digits removed from tracing along the smooth surface of the exquisitely carved marble table in front of him to caress the glass in front of him, a tilt of his head towards Narius indicating he had been bought from his musings. "One feels guilty consuming such a liquid which should be savored by all." A flash of teeth as the corners of his lips turned upwards, the closing of his eyelid in a wink which caused Narius to laugh almost uncontrollably. "Ever the enigma my friend, tell me how we have known each other so long and i have yet to know my advisers name?"
Animula pondered upon the question and even his own words, retracing his steps through the short conversation to analyse the hidden subtext which came when one often had his mind elsewhere. "My name would of not bought you success Narius and therefore is unimportant, know only that your continued prosperity is what my name will strive for." Nirius shook his head still laughing at what had taken place, as always with their meets Animula had given little away to his true nature. Nirius always felt at ease with this man however, resigning to the fact that he could probe all he wants and still not receive the answers he sought. "I have never doubted your intentions for this would not be here if it was not for your involvement, to that my nameless friend i am in your debt." Nirius retorted with a smile on his face, turning upon his heeled leather shoe and opening the door to enter his establishment. "The drinks as always will be on the house, despite me having to waste them later." He laughed once again before disappearing behind the closing heavy wooden door leaving Animula in solitude once more, his smile turning more into a chuckle at Nirius's words.
Finger tracing around the rim of the glass creating a high pitched chord, not one which would cause the hairs to stand on end and those whom hear it to turn away in soul tingling horror, but one which would carry an alluring tone. This was not for the passers by whom for the most part did not notice this creature sat at the table but was created for him to loose himself once more to his own musings, waiting as time passed into the shadows which coalesced at his feet, dripping from every orifice they resided.
For those to look upon him they would not see anything out of the ordinary, at least on a physical level. The creature looked just as any other human might though stylistically there were some variances, still with these small inconsistencies most generally went by without a second glance. He himself was dressed within the same silk suit that he had wore all evening, as black as the night that hung overhead though strangely without the reflective properties which silk might contain. Each fold, each crease immaculately pressed giving the impression that this man was one whom took care of his appearance. Under the suit he wore a white linen shirt which had ruffled rather then a straight defined edge to the collar and sleeves, flowing out from the cuffs of the suit just enough to see the lace frills which were hidden underneath. Upon his head he wore the same bowler hat hiding away the blonde locks which were perfectly kept underneath, the rim casting a shadow over his luminescent features. Some say that he has the appearance of an angel and that his presence was that of the divine yet neither, when giving such compliments, knew to the extent they could have been correct.
It would not be long for the two whom had been invited would join him, of that he was certain. Not many were able to stand on the same level as he and to that he was certain that the two whom would be his company for what was left of the evening would take the same stance. To capture the attention of such one first needed to ensure they would listen, the seeds of such already planted during the first meeting the new council of Tia held despite them not being aware of it. Only three in that room knew of his presence and only two knew of his intention. No doubt that would change when the third saw it fit to tell the Mayoress that there was an unseen observer, the public theater and subsequent mental protection ensuring that nothing more then his location had been found, useless now that he had moved on. No, the two whom had been invited were much more then the third whom obeyed orders without question, they were off his stature, a puppeteer rather then a puppet on the strings, these were much more useful in his campaign.
Will a few words from an unknown entity sway the population?
Piercing shrills from the various loudspeakers echoing through the narrow streets woke him once more from his musings whilst his obsidian hues survey what was in front of him. In truth he was not to far within his own mind to notice the passers by and their conversations, simply that whilst his mind went through what had happened in such a short space of time, his subconscious mind registered all that had gone ahead before him, which for someone with an eidetic memory was a powerful tool.
The entire street was at a standstill, each member of the public cantering their heads towards the loudspeakers now crackling into life, discontent whispers between one another regarding what had befell the city whilst cursing those that allowed it to happen. A noted soft sultry voice which no doubt when heard in person would provide the up most confidence in those around, unfortunately for him however the loudspeaker did nothing but destroy that visage, a crackly broken voice signalling faulty equipment no doubt caused when the initial riots took place. Was this wise? Animula certainly did not think so when rather then speak in person she sent another to do her dirty work. Every decision this women made seemed to strike a chord with him, every word that dripped from the lips of her public speaker, despite him saying so, only furthered Animula's beliefs that this women did not have the people in her heart, but rather she considered Tia her fortress, her safety away from her enemies. He did not need to hear what was said to predict the general tone, we will do this and that as a bribe for your loyalty, we will safe guard your city from my enemies, we will clean up your dead to forget this horrid incident.
But this horrid incident was still fresh within the minds of the population whom by all rights had fought for an unknown victor, the dead still lining the streets for a battle of this magnitude could not be cleared up in a day, no amount of rain would instantly wash the spilt blood for a lost cause. Then of course it came, from the nauseating self gratitude from the obvious pre-written speech which had been passed down from her office the new laws of the land would be laid out. All respected members from each sect, previously placed by the ruler and that the people had come to love and trust were now being turfed out in favour of her own people. It had not gone unnoticed that the people at the top would be by her own appointment, that the voting system for the rest meant little when they held no real power over the city. Of course as expected all of this was wrapped up water tight by the statement that until such elections pass the Mayor had power and control over the entire city, was it a coincidence that the date of the elections had not been given? The people looked to each other and shook their heads, some retreating from the obvious gathering places to walk back to their homes, some even stating that they need to escape from this city to their loved ones.
New hospitals will be given, but of course, the people whom were now connecting the dots could see this regime for what it truly was. Even the respected healer whom had helped the city of Tia through countless problems was now tarnished by this tyranical ruler. "Of course" the mutters between themselves continued, Animula's highly tuned ears picking out the various tid bits of information from each. "It is only natural that the relation of the new 'Mayor' (said with disdain) is given priority over our homes which have been destroyed." The mutterings were starting to turn into shouts at the loudspeaker, obvious agitation which could be heard not only from this gathering, but those around. When it was announced that new schools would be built over these war torn properties however the streets went into outrage, she did not care about the people but appearances to the outside. Yes it did look good to build hospitals and schools but to what end, the sacrifice of the peoples homes whom will populate them?
Animula stood from the table, casually wandering over to the loudspeaker with measured steps, each one creating a sound which resonated through the brickwork underneath. The crowd was becoming unruly and yet on his approach the back split into two halves, much like Moses parting the seas this man had parted the crowds whilst making his way to the front.
His voice nothing but a mere whisper yet it stretched through the PA system like vines within a jungle, intermingling with the electronic signals put forth by this mysterious spokesman and altering them to his own effect, no longer was this messengers voice emanating through the airwaves but Animula's.
"Friends, a dark time has befallen the city of Tia. What was once yours has now been claimed by a foreign invader, an invader who came when you were close to obtaining your freedom. I can not tell you if these promises from the messenger will be fulfilled and if the people will really be given a voice that will echo through the ages, but i ask you is it worth the risk? When you had come so close to victory are you now to accept defeat?"
Animula paused, the voice to the people was mystery for they did not see his mouth move, yet some had a passing inkling that this could be this sublimely dressed man whom stood before them, his head cantering up towards the speaker.
"Do not lay down so easily for it is obvious this is not what you want. Whilst hospitals are being built the dead still line the street. Whilst schools are being built your children have nowhere to sleep. Whilst those in power discuss whatever trivial matters they are discussing, you wait in the streets for their answer? Is this freedom?"
The crowds had settled and were listening to this man, they were not muttering about how the tyrannical ruler favored the elite but now were reminiscing of the short victory they had held, uniting once more from the brink of defeat.
"YOU are the ones that define your own future, YOU have the power to rise up and say you will not go silently into the night. YOU will not lay down whilst her armies walk over you to enter the castle. She shows you mercy by letting you live? I say YOU show her mercy by giving her the chance to leave. The people will rule Tia once more, your new leader will reveal themselves soon, be patient friends for your time is nearly upon you."
The crowds roared within the streets at this unknown voice, the voice that spoke for the people. The loudspeakers above whirred and clicked at the end of the messengers speech though in truth no one had noticed, the very pathways beneath their feet vibrating at the excited chants which had taken hold. Animula turned upon heeled shoe and walked back towards the beautifully carved marble table in which he took residence, fingers once more caressing the glass.
"Do you really intend to rule these people?" An unwavering voice behind him stated, Narius Dilinti had come from inside his cafe to see what the noise was.
"The people will always rise against a dictatorship Narius, they simply need a push in the right direction." Narius looked at Animula for a while, still trying to discern what he could from his answer, as always ever the enigma. He shrugged it off as he pushed open the heavy wooden door once more, his voice trailing behind him before it shut.
"You still haven't touched that drink ..."
Animula laughed a hearty chuckle, still his fingers traced along the rim whilst he settled against the back of the chair. The game was picking up pace already, however Narius asked the wrong question.
Do you really want the people ruling the streets?
Time will soon reveal that answer, for now he was content to wait for his guests whilst retreating back into his own musings.
Satrina:
"What do you ask of death?"
This however was the way things were, resigning himself to the knowledge that despite his current displeasure at the situation as it had presented itself so long ago it had given him time to adapt and study this world far beyond others could even comprehend. Within his mind were the secrets to which scientists even now struggled to grasp the concept and the answers to the questions which would follow, even if they stretched beyond the confines of Valucre and into the heavens.
A gentleman by the name of Narius Dilinti, the owner of Antiquity Tea had come out of the building and placed a full glass of the finest red wine which the establishment had to offer in front of Animula. "One will take offense if he finds this glass as full as the rest." Obvious comical intentions with his statement yet the curiosity as to why rang through his words, Narius offering a short nod after formal greetings had already taken place previous. Elongated digits removed from tracing along the smooth surface of the exquisitely carved marble table in front of him to caress the glass in front of him, a tilt of his head towards Narius indicating he had been bought from his musings. "One feels guilty consuming such a liquid which should be savored by all." A flash of teeth as the corners of his lips turned upwards, the closing of his eyelid in a wink which caused Narius to laugh almost uncontrollably. "Ever the enigma my friend, tell me how we have known each other so long and i have yet to know my advisers name?"
Animula pondered upon the question and even his own words, retracing his steps through the short conversation to analyse the hidden subtext which came when one often had his mind elsewhere. "My name would of not bought you success Narius and therefore is unimportant, know only that your continued prosperity is what my name will strive for." Nirius shook his head still laughing at what had taken place, as always with their meets Animula had given little away to his true nature. Nirius always felt at ease with this man however, resigning to the fact that he could probe all he wants and still not receive the answers he sought. "I have never doubted your intentions for this would not be here if it was not for your involvement, to that my nameless friend i am in your debt." Nirius retorted with a smile on his face, turning upon his heeled leather shoe and opening the door to enter his establishment. "The drinks as always will be on the house, despite me having to waste them later." He laughed once again before disappearing behind the closing heavy wooden door leaving Animula in solitude once more, his smile turning more into a chuckle at Nirius's words.
Finger tracing around the rim of the glass creating a high pitched chord, not one which would cause the hairs to stand on end and those whom hear it to turn away in soul tingling horror, but one which would carry an alluring tone. This was not for the passers by whom for the most part did not notice this creature sat at the table but was created for him to loose himself once more to his own musings, waiting as time passed into the shadows which coalesced at his feet, dripping from every orifice they resided.
For those to look upon him they would not see anything out of the ordinary, at least on a physical level. The creature looked just as any other human might though stylistically there were some variances, still with these small inconsistencies most generally went by without a second glance. He himself was dressed within the same silk suit that he had wore all evening, as black as the night that hung overhead though strangely without the reflective properties which silk might contain. Each fold, each crease immaculately pressed giving the impression that this man was one whom took care of his appearance. Under the suit he wore a white linen shirt which had ruffled rather then a straight defined edge to the collar and sleeves, flowing out from the cuffs of the suit just enough to see the lace frills which were hidden underneath. Upon his head he wore the same bowler hat hiding away the blonde locks which were perfectly kept underneath, the rim casting a shadow over his luminescent features. Some say that he has the appearance of an angel and that his presence was that of the divine yet neither, when giving such compliments, knew to the extent they could have been correct.
It would not be long for the two whom had been invited would join him, of that he was certain. Not many were able to stand on the same level as he and to that he was certain that the two whom would be his company for what was left of the evening would take the same stance. To capture the attention of such one first needed to ensure they would listen, the seeds of such already planted during the first meeting the new council of Tia held despite them not being aware of it. Only three in that room knew of his presence and only two knew of his intention. No doubt that would change when the third saw it fit to tell the Mayoress that there was an unseen observer, the public theater and subsequent mental protection ensuring that nothing more then his location had been found, useless now that he had moved on. No, the two whom had been invited were much more then the third whom obeyed orders without question, they were off his stature, a puppeteer rather then a puppet on the strings, these were much more useful in his campaign.
Will a few words from an unknown entity sway the population?
Piercing shrills from the various loudspeakers echoing through the narrow streets woke him once more from his musings whilst his obsidian hues survey what was in front of him. In truth he was not to far within his own mind to notice the passers by and their conversations, simply that whilst his mind went through what had happened in such a short space of time, his subconscious mind registered all that had gone ahead before him, which for someone with an eidetic memory was a powerful tool.
The entire street was at a standstill, each member of the public cantering their heads towards the loudspeakers now crackling into life, discontent whispers between one another regarding what had befell the city whilst cursing those that allowed it to happen. A noted soft sultry voice which no doubt when heard in person would provide the up most confidence in those around, unfortunately for him however the loudspeaker did nothing but destroy that visage, a crackly broken voice signalling faulty equipment no doubt caused when the initial riots took place. Was this wise? Animula certainly did not think so when rather then speak in person she sent another to do her dirty work. Every decision this women made seemed to strike a chord with him, every word that dripped from the lips of her public speaker, despite him saying so, only furthered Animula's beliefs that this women did not have the people in her heart, but rather she considered Tia her fortress, her safety away from her enemies. He did not need to hear what was said to predict the general tone, we will do this and that as a bribe for your loyalty, we will safe guard your city from my enemies, we will clean up your dead to forget this horrid incident.
But this horrid incident was still fresh within the minds of the population whom by all rights had fought for an unknown victor, the dead still lining the streets for a battle of this magnitude could not be cleared up in a day, no amount of rain would instantly wash the spilt blood for a lost cause. Then of course it came, from the nauseating self gratitude from the obvious pre-written speech which had been passed down from her office the new laws of the land would be laid out. All respected members from each sect, previously placed by the ruler and that the people had come to love and trust were now being turfed out in favour of her own people. It had not gone unnoticed that the people at the top would be by her own appointment, that the voting system for the rest meant little when they held no real power over the city. Of course as expected all of this was wrapped up water tight by the statement that until such elections pass the Mayor had power and control over the entire city, was it a coincidence that the date of the elections had not been given? The people looked to each other and shook their heads, some retreating from the obvious gathering places to walk back to their homes, some even stating that they need to escape from this city to their loved ones.
New hospitals will be given, but of course, the people whom were now connecting the dots could see this regime for what it truly was. Even the respected healer whom had helped the city of Tia through countless problems was now tarnished by this tyranical ruler. "Of course" the mutters between themselves continued, Animula's highly tuned ears picking out the various tid bits of information from each. "It is only natural that the relation of the new 'Mayor' (said with disdain) is given priority over our homes which have been destroyed." The mutterings were starting to turn into shouts at the loudspeaker, obvious agitation which could be heard not only from this gathering, but those around. When it was announced that new schools would be built over these war torn properties however the streets went into outrage, she did not care about the people but appearances to the outside. Yes it did look good to build hospitals and schools but to what end, the sacrifice of the peoples homes whom will populate them?
Animula stood from the table, casually wandering over to the loudspeaker with measured steps, each one creating a sound which resonated through the brickwork underneath. The crowd was becoming unruly and yet on his approach the back split into two halves, much like Moses parting the seas this man had parted the crowds whilst making his way to the front.
His voice nothing but a mere whisper yet it stretched through the PA system like vines within a jungle, intermingling with the electronic signals put forth by this mysterious spokesman and altering them to his own effect, no longer was this messengers voice emanating through the airwaves but Animula's.
"Friends, a dark time has befallen the city of Tia. What was once yours has now been claimed by a foreign invader, an invader who came when you were close to obtaining your freedom. I can not tell you if these promises from the messenger will be fulfilled and if the people will really be given a voice that will echo through the ages, but i ask you is it worth the risk? When you had come so close to victory are you now to accept defeat?"
Animula paused, the voice to the people was mystery for they did not see his mouth move, yet some had a passing inkling that this could be this sublimely dressed man whom stood before them, his head cantering up towards the speaker.
"Do not lay down so easily for it is obvious this is not what you want. Whilst hospitals are being built the dead still line the street. Whilst schools are being built your children have nowhere to sleep. Whilst those in power discuss whatever trivial matters they are discussing, you wait in the streets for their answer? Is this freedom?"
The crowds had settled and were listening to this man, they were not muttering about how the tyrannical ruler favored the elite but now were reminiscing of the short victory they had held, uniting once more from the brink of defeat.
"YOU are the ones that define your own future, YOU have the power to rise up and say you will not go silently into the night. YOU will not lay down whilst her armies walk over you to enter the castle. She shows you mercy by letting you live? I say YOU show her mercy by giving her the chance to leave. The people will rule Tia once more, your new leader will reveal themselves soon, be patient friends for your time is nearly upon you."
The crowds roared within the streets at this unknown voice, the voice that spoke for the people. The loudspeakers above whirred and clicked at the end of the messengers speech though in truth no one had noticed, the very pathways beneath their feet vibrating at the excited chants which had taken hold. Animula turned upon heeled shoe and walked back towards the beautifully carved marble table in which he took residence, fingers once more caressing the glass.
"Do you really intend to rule these people?" An unwavering voice behind him stated, Narius Dilinti had come from inside his cafe to see what the noise was.
"The people will always rise against a dictatorship Narius, they simply need a push in the right direction." Narius looked at Animula for a while, still trying to discern what he could from his answer, as always ever the enigma. He shrugged it off as he pushed open the heavy wooden door once more, his voice trailing behind him before it shut.
"You still haven't touched that drink ..."
Animula laughed a hearty chuckle, still his fingers traced along the rim whilst he settled against the back of the chair. The game was picking up pace already, however Narius asked the wrong question.
Do you really want the people ruling the streets?
Time will soon reveal that answer, for now he was content to wait for his guests whilst retreating back into his own musings.
Satrina:
"What do you ask of death?"
A scorching sun was lynched in the sky, trouncing heat, stifling and oppressively heavy, and people shuffling through the s boulevards without leniency beneath the metallic industry of the metropolitan egregore of wounded pride. With the heat, emotions shattered to the verge where even the winds mourned. With the crowds gathering, listening to the information of new leadership across the airwaves. Footage in holographic imagery provided by the satellites and the Terrenus crystals, there wasn't one person who didn't need to pause to wipe sweat from their forehead to look upon this information with whatever sentiment or thought had been disturbed on the wings of that very second. Dirt clung to the moisture on their skin and oppression had taken its toll... but there was still a glimmer of hope in downcast eyes, something believing in salvation. The slums of this great metropolis, was the home of many diverse people to walk the earth. Every cut-throat and crook found their way there eventually, satisfying their corrupt needs in the brothels and shady taverns, devising their dirty plans in the dark corners. Gamble's, risks and deals were made, innocence was taken, deaths were arranged by the pounds of flesh paid in cash, and the people dealt with it as best they could, each one simply trying to live their life as best, and as long, as they could merely to survive.
Atra's footsteps were heavier than usual, placed with a certain amount of pressure that left indentations within the soils, and the littered debris that cluttered the streets with yesterday's news. Polished black boots scuffling at the torn papers as another broadcast fluttered across the airwaves, and it was more than clear the hearts of the city sunk low in the chest just as the sun hung low in the sky, behind the coppery buildings and shadows. Lorenz colours, of black and cerulean blue glimmered in that same fading sun, capturing the iridescent sheen in the wavy cascades of her hair, the gilded radiance over achromatic features along with the deeper profound darkness reflected in those eyes. To Atra, it seemed that more scum were to enter the gates of Tia, scum that made these parts appear as utopic; not that it surprised her, after all a blood-sucker always lingered around feeding of the trash of another leader while sucking on a silver spoon—it reminded her all too much of Eden, how poisons seeped it until nothing remained but desolation. Power always brought the sheep and with the sheep came the wolves... and even though some profited and attributing to the knowing of politics, so little was demonstrated to actual knowledge and not mere ego clouding judgement.
Words burdened the ever-reflective mind, resonating loudly within the left hemisphere of her mind, limitless in knowledge and yet knowing so little of the people she would perhaps soon come to love, as her own. Love. Atra had so little understanding of that emotion to inspire the heart to beat and sing, a symphony of lifetimes, dreamt and soon to become a reality—and with that dawned reality and realization, new responsibility new to her ways and ideals, Determination, it perfumed the structure of her face to the slight indentation twixt her brow, the slight edge to cerise-opiate lips and the minor tension to jawline that caused the dimple in her cheeks to reveal concentration and focus. "Woe, is the city of Tia!" One man mumbled as he motioned past her, shoulder brushing against shoulder, feeling the impressions of sorrow bruising the aura of what was once a great man, who loved his family... who had lost his family. No longer did Atra walk in the steps of a militant official, or the acting Ambassador of the city... but more poignant in her father’s footsteps. A shadow, rendering a great impression in comparison to her diminutive form, spreading outwards behind her in the shape of mighty raven-bladed wings; arches that bore the souls of worlds, times and dimensions- the barriers of the void, the scourges of the dead.
In mid-pace Atra stopped, chin turning to observe the man, the tip of her chin resting on the lustrous fatale tourniquet of full piece long sleeve catsuit... the shiny metallic clasping feminine curves as if a second film of skin were but to cover sinuous landscapes attributed to Aphrodite. Frozen gaze pinned upon the man’s back who in macabre surrender stood there like a puppet waiting for the puppeteer to pluck the strands and make him dance. "Obsessio ut men dico nex est proximus ut vita quam vos somnium est mereo alius sinthoma"[Translation: "The obsession that men call death is nearer to life than you dream: it is merely another symptom"], and was then that he turned, the way the sun caught the brim of his hat where the grey-hair blew across his ashen brow like cinders. Shadows swarmed and reigned to conceal weather-beaten eyes that dripped with the jadedness only years of labour and disappointment could bring. Gnarled, aged fingers reached up towards the brim and jerked downward upon it with the nod of his head and a toothless grin.
On observation, while plutonian shimmers brushed over the details of the man’s attire, aged and faded, where the sleeves were once white they were spoiled with attrition, dirt, and broken hearts. Black and whites , antique from whatever century was previous-- that no doubt once looked smart, adorned him with the prestige of honour, now clinging to the decomposition of withered entropic limbs and torso. Body pivoting, left hip turning and lithe shoulders following in her slow and calculated motion, bringing to fully face the man that lingered, caught between two worlds, the living and the dead. It was in that instance he spoke, voice gravelled and grating over the natural sounds of the city, and even they seemed to have bleached out to the skeletal choirs of his lilt, "I see that you have recognized our guests?" His grin took on a more death-like facade, twisted and contorted in its evolution from what seemed to be an old man, but now, something attributed to the 'Reaper'. Intrigued, yet this fascination was tinged by a strange {sense} of something vaguely wrong, unnatural, bizarre.
Noticing that even his accent was of the ‘Old World’ subdued in the silver-bells of French, so thus, reaching out to this phantom with her voice piquant in the flares of the sun, "Le passé n'est jamais une chose, que les ombres devraient permettre Vieux fantômes de visiter ces rives pâles." [Translation: "The past is never a thing, that shadows should allow old ghosts to visit these pale shores."] Blood-red lips cambered in a strange smile amid her the marble pallor of her complexion, quoting the words as if they drifted from some distant memory. Riposte, mordant tomb- in lament, tenor as a death-rattle, a voice approaching the rioting of satyrs in charnels... "Mort douce O... ecouter... et oubliés des choses vont vivre pour vous une fois de plus" [Translation: "O Sweet Death... listen, and forgotten things will live for you again"] Pale, soundless, with features characteristic of the somnambulist, frail digit lifting, then extending to point tip towards her, "You must remain", while that skeletal finger pointed towards her, and the dirge spoken with elaborate eroticism, of black magicians and necromancers.
Tones of sensuality unfurled by darkened subtle degrees, into a cruel and macabre accent, where the tongue salaciously rolled only to click against the back of ivory teeth, if only but to quietly speak. "Well... the soirée that I have planned, I promise, will be sure to... enthral you." Her endless rutilance of mouth in motion, how those arches of full lips pursed and pouted to the accentuation of dialogue—harangue of Therion moons. Half-hoping and half- blasé that the time when those lips would have to speak, and deliver forth not that of oracle, or query, or doom, but judgement. Apathetic, for all world turn, every wheel turns and darkness comes to settle upon all before the light of day brings with it, the renaissance of a new age. And then, the age old quote: "Destruction is only creation with an agenda." Obeisance granted towards the phantom, in turn of an honourable nod, a tip of the head in courteous gesture before turning, never looking back over her shoulder, and continuing once again, on her way, merging in the dusky sunburnt hues of the fading sunlight rays.
More vivid than the shadows, on the sundials of doom...
NamelessAssailant: A god in chains?
Nimble digits ran along the glass placed in front of him. Patience, the whispers of his mind called out to him whilst he sat upon the wonderfully detailed marble chair which when given a few hundred years will no doubt be marked down in history as an antique giving rise to the name of the cafe that he had taken residence. Obsidian hues cast among the crowds dispersing after his speech, hijacking the electrical airwaves which stretched through the slums, the voice of her messenger replaced with his own soft sultry tones giving the locale hope where it was all but lost. The crowds had cheered when his voice ceased to transmit, replaced with the last of the messengers propaganda which was easily observed by those whom had the where-with-all to realise, a new found hope in this mysterious leader whom had yet to rise, one which they believed would be from the people and yet it could not be further from the truth.
The sun high in the sky beating down with relentless assault on the streets surface. Animula uncomfortable, his body twisting to gain refuge from the piercing heat within the shadows which dripped from every surface, coalescing by his feet in a pool of tar like consistency. What could only be observed as tentacles reaching out from it's depths to lash around his feet, trying with might to pull him back to their realm where they so craved his masterful presence.
Flashes off luminescent green lining the unneeded veins of his eyes, expanding outwards until nothing of the void like darkness remained, the shadows which had pooled recoiling way from this somewhat unique display. Almost within that instant, a strong wind had befallen Tia, sweeping through the various narrow alley ways to the widened shop lined streets bringing with it a darkness that only he could maintain. A blanket of rolling black clouds, each one looking as ominous as the last casting the entire city into shadow once more, a seemingly natural weather pattern which had materialised from a clear blue sky. Such oddities caused those looking around to stand and stare, a sign of danger perhaps? Mortals were often fickle with such superstitions, a sky of this magnitude often bringing about a somber experience, fear had started to strike through the their fragile hearts which surprisingly given current events non could blame them for.
Droplets began to form and fall from the heavens yet Animula did not move, still his elongated digits played a single note along the rim of the glass whilst his hat now not bombarded from the sun was providing cover from the rain, the people whom were once staring at the heavens now scattering with haste to the nearest covering, trying to shield themselves from the continued bombing of nature. Brow lifts at sudden curiosity from the two that remained, recognisable traits not only from the physical manifestation of the women locked within conversation but also the energy which emanated from her very soul, as bright as one would expect from such a complex waves washing over him. The other he could not discern, peaking his interest further for the women whom he had arranged this meeting with. Interesting.
His eyes flashed back to the Obsidian void which they once were, the shadows obeying without falter to the silent recognition that their master had once again called upon their presence, new found strength at the cloud cover which had cast the entire city into darkness.
"I do hope you have come to discuss those plans." The same semi whispered tone stretching through the arcane web, tendrils lashing around the various anchor points of fragile minds like vines stretching to the top of the canopy, twisting and turning through the entanglement of arcane energy to fuse with her own mind. A pulse. A flash of brilliant white energy which although containing all the details required, namely him sitting underneath the sign of the shop with his head tilted down towards the glass on the table, the rim of his bowler hat covering all recognisable features save for the black silken strangely non reflective suit. Time standing still as this flood of information, a camera pan of the area would play back within her mind only to burst back into life once the message had ended.
In truth it was not hard to send such an image for he had her in his vision, both her and the mysterious figure standing across from him on one of the many market squares of Tia, lifting his glass towards her if she could recognise the similar architecture which surrounded her. Was it that she was just out walking among the streets, not wanting to accept her invitation yet the fates of those unseen had bound her to him? His mind poured over what information he could, the events which had transpired over the past couple of days, an observer among the chaos of hostile takeovers and a rioting population. Soon perhaps to these people he would make himself known, that he would tell of how his influence has shaped their past and now defines not just the future of Tia, but perhaps the future of Valucre?
First he would need to ensure that the cards were dealt in his favour, that the deck in which they all played from had been fixed to give him the advantage. He needed to get off this rock and embrace the shadows once more, to return to a land where no other has set foot aside from his siblings. These off-world creatures were the key for if they could escape the confines of this planet then he could remove the shackles which bound him to it, he could once again move freely among the shadow realm, the power of the gods would be released once more.
Satrina:
Beware, dear child, heed this critique,
when danger nears, don't hesitate...
Under the overwhelming spirited sun, emblematic towards a silo of blood that expands and falls upon the quivering lips of a dying child, or as the resplendent ruby cascades from blackening hands of a sepulchre, and the decayed necromancer, the final continent lies cowed by a heavy burden of forgotten dreams and memories, or the oppressed thumb of another authoritarian. Deep within its city streets, far from the soughing seas and the aged mechanical structures of its industry, it is here that lays the heart of Tia, the people who look upon the deepening gloom with silent eyes, who look into the western skies, hissing sibilant hymns no longer than the acerbic sirocco that touches the heat-embraced walls awaiting the night which will come forth upon silent, nigrescent wings bringing the carnivorous winds of the dead.
Promises that blessed time, with the cover of night, and the sun snuffed as a waxen taper after a night's steady burning-- where solemn creatures of death walk upon the withered earth; where once life, rejoicing forevermore in their infinitely... nothing but a cold inheritance. Those who await the coming of the night — those who linger amongst the forgotten fanes and stammer balefully with evil intent; heralding the time when they will walk forth freely upon the earth like unto men in form, like unto demons in spirit, or the hungry dead that know no rest, no peace only the ravishing hunger clinging to the abyss of insanity. The hours of darkness beckoning them forth, feeding their ferocious and ruthless odium of the guttering sun; vanished by the devoted starless firmament.
But it was days like these, with the heat that sickness and plague took its toll, which were the worst, with lack of medical supplies, immunizations and hospitalization. Dark days were ahead, even if the general consensus preached, all things unicorns, rainbows and peaches. "Malevolent imprecations!" was the phrase that couldn’t be refrained despite the sultry sweep of tongue across the lips of wine and fire. Unaware of the full extent of the situation throughout Tia, only sparingly accessing bits and pieces of the data transmitted. Seemed a little far-fetched and unreal to her, even when stopping beside a group of people gossiping amongst themselves about riots, 'The Dead', Zombies, Vampires and other shenanigans.
Her memory burned with the musings of scepticism, truly only ever feeling content whilst walking abroad in reverie where no outward thing could encroach, except the tiny rhombus globules falling from the sky as the heavens opened and chaos sanctified the roads, sizzling and steaming at the relief of the coolness. Silky lengths of black, tumbling over shoulders, rain beading glistening gems, a tiara of stars before they dispersed to saturate. Crystalline trinkets dripping, skin-tight bodice, over shoulder and even the celestial tip of turned-up nose. No disconnection has been attempted against the ‘link’ of this unusual and curious man, he was an intrigue.
No master would ever pull her strings, but it offered an alternative to the quandary of the norm? Lengths of zibeline rivulets billowing across the weapon at her side, Venenum ab Ater Abyssus (or also known as the 'Poison of the Black Abyss' adorned with mysterious sigil's and glyph's unknown to any outside of her order), visible strapped to salacious lengths of both thighs, proud and pulsating with the sentient powers attributed to them. Languidly, as the voice caressed the psychic pall of her mind, filtering like electromagnetic waves of subtle transmission, her features returned to a more horizontal position, though somewhat cocking to the side in mere amusement. Eyes slowly moving along the littered street to the weak shadows flittering, drowning in the dense darkness that came and went with the passing of storm clouds smothering the sun in the maws of Tiamat.
Typically, having given her escort.... the slip.... it didn't take much to leave an imprint of a holographic image of herself, a little trick accustomed to the 'Harlequins'. To dance with the shadows and no sooner had she weaved amongst the shadows the image would fade with the balmy zephyr. Infectious, hypnotizing... what was he, a Devil, an Angel, an Advent or something from the far-flung galaxies of black stars? No mistake ‘he’ was a being of power, Animula. Tapering senses with the psychic strands, coercing to entwine, though just as effortlessly knowing she could retreat them and even as accepting of those communications... there was forceful resistance pushing back against the tendrils of Animula's psionics.
Following the coercions, and subtle manipulations of his location, moving through the shadows with fluid prowess, passing citizens that simply did not perceive nor see her, for them Atra simply was not there. It was not uncommon for the Seraphim or Demons to move amongst man, unseen, how subtle the manipulations were to control those lavish meatsacks for whatever bidding or purpose—and now a whole new spectrum of deity was coming to the board, to dance or play at whatever games their design had it. It was all the same, it was only a unpretentious matter of who held the ‘king’ at the end of the match. Doorways to certain parts of her mind, would not be available for the viewing, secured behind the confusing mind fogs and mechanisms to generate 'false' thoughts and memories—meaning that if infiltrated, all that he would see, was something obscure, false and possibly disturbing.
Crossing the last street of where he sat, Antiquity Tea, "How quaint!" the thought drifted in her mind with the seductive purrs of accent, insidious and emphatic. Behind the decors of illimitable life, in the darkest gulfs of the abyss, beheld distinctly singular worlds; the ecstatic victims of curiosity—where both clung of a ledge of the unknown. No mistake, Atra had considered this new essence to be of a threat, to never underestimate one who had the ability to seduce her mind, something in itself never before breached, and this ‘man’? Had the capability to be just that, it tapped on her senses like a detonation to be difficult and aggressive. A twitch flickered at the side of her mouth, black eyes pinned upon his form as she crossed the street and appeared at his right. Standing there for a moment, head tiling to the side, "Why else would I come, other than to discuss said plans!", a snicker enveloped with her words, stare leaving his eyes and then instantly taking to the chair in front of him with her back to the street, folding arms across corseted bodice. "So, Come, oh, come, upon the voyage into dreams, beyond all that is possible, beyond all that is known!" the smirk widening gradually at the amusement of this, meeting of minds, spurred on the words of so many variable meanings.
NamelessAssailant: The queen has moved whilst still some pieces remain a mystery.
Death fallen upon his mind with it's repulsive stench so vivid it would make those of lesser minds turn a nose, a response to his little intrusion into Lady Atra'Lamia's mind. There was no response however, not even the slightest of nervous twitches registered within his bio-mechanical frame at such savagery. In truth he was used to it, death was an inevitable part of life and even in the midst of destruction their was a beauty in the symmetry it held with it's counterpart. More so it held an amusing insight, false pretenses maybe yet information could still be discerned, this women, tightly wrapped hips swaying through the busy streets, was certainly one whom was also used to such things. If she was not surely the response would be of sunshine, puppies and kittens. She excited him, far beyond the mortal mind of lust and desire. Whilst one could certainly admire those qualities about the mortal mind, immortal logic far outweighed such trivial things.
'A voyage into dreams?' Oh how this creature now taking residence within one of the same detailed marble chairs knew so little about him, no doubt guessing through the energies which flowed from his soul with constant persistence, battering against the dykes which protected the shores from such waves.
Without any request sent Narius had come out of his cafe with another glass in hand, his smile ear to ear, proud of the finest of wines he bought his trusted friends guest. Yet as the heavy baroque door shut behind him, the glass slipping from his fingers only to be caught by Animula without a single drop being spilt, a step back with a gracious bow more formal then any he had greeted Animula.
"The ambassador of Tia!" Stammered words falling from his lips as he matched her face to that of the crystal ball he had just been viewing within the cafe. "It's an honour."
The glass placed upon the table in front of Atra before falling back against the hard smooth surface of his chair, his head tilting upwards revealing the Obsidian optics with flashes of luminescent green between non existent veins. Milliseconds and this somewhat invasion of his eyes had taken full effect leaving nothing but a green covering to his shifting hues.
"The ambassador of Tia?" Honeyed words oozing from his lips as elongated digits begin to trace the rim of the glass again, Narius who was frozen in position awoken from Animula's words.
"You will have to forgive him, it's truly an honour, please if you need anything else do not hesitate to ask. I do hope you enjoy the wine more then my rather ignorant guest." Casting a sideways glance at Animula with a slight smile, regaining a somewhat semblance of his former self. Animula couldn't contain his laughter at the thought that he considered him a guest, yet he entertained such mortal arrogance asking only that he leave them for some privacy. Narius looked at Animula with a curious taint, and yet obeyed his wishes without any question and proceeded back into the cafe.
"So the mayoress has chosen the one whom will take the fall." Animula mused, still luminescent hues focused upon the rim of the glass, his finger playing a note so beautiful it seemed sang from a choir of angels. "I will not speak in riddles, nor will i hide my intentions from you, such things are frivolous when dealing with beings such as us." Taking a short pause, allowing the truth of the statement to settle within her mind.
"I am not off this world, but then neither are you." His head cantered up to her for the first time since she sat, studying her form for the most simple of reactions, shock, awe, complacency, anything which he could gather information from. "I sit before you lady Atra'Lamia, Ambassador of Tia with a simple request which in return i could offer you so much more. First however a history lesson, of how i came to be bound to this world." Digits still tracing the rim of the glass yet the note was changing, with each full rotation there seemed to be an introduction of a note, a slight bump until a musical score started to form. If her mind was sharp she could see the change, the slight bumps within the glass as it liquidized and reformed in almost instantaneous fashion, reflecting the varying changes in mood off the following story.
"Life on this planet pales in comparison to my existence. Years, decades, millenia. These are comparable to seconds, minutes and hours within my span. The details of my kind will be revealed soon enough but now for know that i have twelve siblings, one of them is named Azrael. Death. A time long forgotten we had a disagreement which resulted as most disagreements do, mortal or immortal, in the spilling of blood."
Animula paused once again though this time not for dramatic effect, merely he was searching through the depths of his eidetic mind recalling the event. It appeared, so clear yet so long ago, a smile forming upon his perfectly plain lips.
"The fight did not span the length of any arena, or even planet, but spanned the very stars themselves. From planet to planet we sent each other, through rock and metals our bodies crashed until finally we both arrived here, a once desolate rock which has now flourished with life. Now as you are probably most aware travelling to any plane is incredibly taxing on ones energy due to the intense arcane influence within the very structure of this planet. Azrael however did not understand such limitations, or he didn't care, who knows? The important thing to take is that whilst i conserved my energy he expended his, escaping leaving me here, imprisoned within a cage with no walls."
Animula had stopped tracing his finger along the glass, which if she wasn't watching would no doubt startle her when her eyes returned, for what was once a chalice was now a perfect sphere containing the fine wine inside, floating above the palm of his hand. Luminescent eyes focused upon each small movement she made, body language being an important part in all communications and given his time in studying how life flourished, developing from a single cell to the complex carbon creations which walked the streets behind her, he had mastered reading such, even being able to alter the minds of the lesser beings with simple gestures. He waited for her response if she had any at all? Though in truth it did not matter, the tale was something off irrelevance until the request was made, yet it was a tale that only she would have heard told. A strange sense of trust had washed over him with a splattering of caution garnishing.
To know the symbolism however one would need to understand his species, the lack of trust when it came to dealing with anyone outside their influence. He knew this women's mind could not be swayed with simple tricks, perhaps it was that which endeared him to her?
Satrina: Cradled back against her chair, her form a sombre Babel where myth and science and parable exhibited, amongst of course the Latin cinders and ancient dust that her beloved legions had left in their wake, of faded memories long bereft, were all commingled. An in-folio, a tribute to the wars of feud and embittered anarchy, swept now to the passiveness benevolently displayed, although elaborately feigned to be clandestine behind that perfumed smile. Such a smile many had fallen victim to thought congenial or breathtakingly attractive, however, in this case with false aspersions thrown to the winds it was as it was, pure malevolence. Afterall, wasn’t this 'meeting' a moment of truths? Deadpan were her features, and with all due respect, the 'Queen' had ye to digress a move, though multiple had already been calculated in those brief moments of her arrival. That although she approached with amicability and honour, how that remained was to be determined on the pawns played, and where the pieces sat in conjunction with 'offer' and 'interest'. For displays of vehemence, there was no horror to be found when each stared into the mirrors of a nightmare... on different spectrum of the webs being currently woven and entwined, the spider to its silvery web.
There was nothing neither misleading nor misgiving to assume. From the star-like quality to her skin, the frozen glimmers locked within the universe that seemed to be her eyes, the quality of unique splendour. But, they were not there to grant admiration of the flesh, feeble qualities compared to what those vassals could ever portray, if unlocked. Her demeanour displayed an assertive preparation, relaxed as her body was; it was prepped and primed for the unexpected—for it was her role in the 'higher' scheme of things. Even the adornments on her hands resonated with a phosphorescent gleam; nebula's dancing in the blackness of the cosmos (or perhaps one of the many voids). Eyes snapping on the visage of the enthused cafe owner, stumbling over himself as if prodded by nerves and shock, a slender brow arching as he stuttered to correct himself from the lose thrown terms of her 'temporary' status and that of his journey into clumsiness. “Charmed, I am sure!” her accent rolling from the tip of tongue, sinfully accentuating the "r's" in purred veneration.
It was within those depths midnight orbs rested, her mind, thoughts and visuals conglomerated into one ‘audible’ transmission, attuning to the frequencies of the seraph, not psionics- no evidence of any communication attempted within her mind (should Animula maintain that connection or enforce it). Left hand thumb playing with the silver band of a ring on her second last digit where the diamond sat elegantly shining in the variations of the light. To anyone, or even the line of sight, that is all it appeared to be, but to her, it was a tangible means to a 'connection' in which to replay the information, as presented, and only that which physically occurred. Visuals and audible facts, not the intrusive thoughts or interpretation received via psionics as this would give away the hand she was currently playing, deceptively. [The Seraphic data transmission to: Adrin Eitan]
Ebony shimmers moving to the glass of wine, bestowing a nod of gratitude and towards the libertine of the present situation and circumstance. The scent of clockwork and industry thick on the breeze, heightened by the heat and rain, of steam and mechanical labour—even the dull thud of those large machines rumbling beneath her feet and the mechanical heartbeat of Tia rhythmically throbbing. An elongated fingernail tapping against the marble top of the table reflecting this din, while the other reaching to retrieve the wine in the most sinuous of manicured digits. "Tia is a honeycomb full of sweetness... and I am able, should it be thy pleasure to delve where it is I please! In any case that shall be endless, to make for thee an appetite more than sufficient in its capacity." Words equally sarcastic and envenomed to the exact definition her words carried. Digits furling around the delicate glass of piquant flavours, rife with berry and grape... deep crimson like the rivers where ALL life flowed.
Bold, this creature was, one whose lips moved with the incite to spark riots and feuds—frivolous words or seductions of betrayals, no doubt the creature would indeed speak his mind and play his cards if only to hide true intent with a poker face. In ascent, the wine would not meet her rubicund apertures, ears attentive to his stories and placebo of geniality; no doubt at all in her mind that he was a smooth customer and as velveteen his words were, Atra was intelligent enough to see the same embittered venom's her tongue dispelled over silvered and honeyed terms, cordiality served on a platter of antagonism. "Ah yes, says the tempter with his tuneful voice." a smirk breaking the angelic antagonism in her tone. "But I find a smooth savour in the bitterest of wine; that I take often the most arrant verities for lies, and with eyes upraised to heaven, I chose not to stumble into your pitfalls. To assume perhaps, that I am not wise enough to know when the hissing serpents of ruinous gardens seek to sting my heels."
Spoken with a 'true' voice of iron will, sonorous, and her eyes carbonised in fervent protohistoric holocaust, promising sweet nihilistic destruction. Dark and enigmatic; and whereas he had never seen one such as she, the gnosis of the revelation was thus returned, that she saw the complexity of his natures. There was only one other similar to his energies that she had dealt with in the past, those beyond the zones and spheres of stars and suns—from the irrevocable darkness beyond. There was no reason to pretend, nor hide behind carefully chosen words, to everyone who walked past them, were oblivious to the game being played across the gauntlet and the patterned web of time and space.
NamelessAssailant: Pulses of light ebbing and flowing across the arcane web, tendrils interlacing in a dance which no other could seen, wrapping and caressing each others ego with nothing else but themselves printed within the somber embrace. The sudden change in wavelength had not gone unnoticed, but there was similarities that could be found, whilst the information of such enigmatic communication was lost to him, the intended receiver was not. Her kin, her husband, or some other close relation born from the most dominant of human emotions. Love. Of course he knew, he had eluded to such in his original message, her intended receiver whom with the briefest of glances his very being was imprinted within his mind. No names needed to be exchanged for they were useless, names often could be falsified, lies spewing forth in order to protect ones identity and yet when it comes to the soul, no man can hide his intentions, no man can falsify the energies which cascading through the airwaves trickled into his Eidetic memory.
She had not finished speaking however, and ever the gentleman that he was he would allow her to continue without interruption. Sweet serenity blowing through the tiny hairs within the ear, playing an invisible orchestra of riddles and rhymes which chimed to the bitter tune off underestimation. Not that he had underestimated her, though that is what her words displayed through paradoxical tones; But that she had underestimated him for he did not 'split any hairs' as the mortal saying goes.
"If i didn't think you were aware Lady Atra'Lamia, the voice of the government whom within this short day has already insulted these people far beyond a few more honeyed words could reclaim." His voice extending through the silence which had enveloped them, which held them close in its hollow embrace. The glass orb which had been created still hovering above outstretched palm, the liquid inside peaceful, a sea of tranquility without a ripple from the outside world effecting its secluded existence. "If i did think you were then we would not be sitting here, for how could i trust one that does not see what i see? That does not hear what i hear? That does not recognize the mind of mortals for it's fickle allegiance. No, i recognize you as Lady Atra'Lamia, the voice of the people whom with her immortal judgement and clear logic could take what is rightfully hers and rule not just Tia, but the entirety of Terrenus."
He allowed the words to sink in, pulling back the tendril which had so wantonly embraced her, surrounding her with its unneeded justification of intrusion. Body in a state of absolute tranquility, his outstretched palm not even wavering as he considered how best to word his proposal. Had he already done it? With the bold statement that together they could take Terrenus? Would she even believe that a being such as he was capable of such inaccessible goals? He wouldn't if this women had sat before him now with nothing but a whisper of reputation stated only by him, why would she believe that he had influenced life from it's very beginning on this planet, and that even long before that he influences elsewhere among the vast cosmos, a universe teeming with life in each galaxy, civilizations which stretch to the very stars that neighbors them.
"I do not trust Tia for I believe it has fallen in the wrong hands, and as little information I have given you to go on I am asking that you trust me. Do not trust in my words but what you feel when you approach, what you felt when our minds first interlaced for that is the only thing you can truly believe, this i am aware." The liquid inside the glass was starting to become a torrent, waves crashing against one side of the sphere then rolling across to the other, almost seemingly defying gravity as it climbed up the walls with force. "We need to get off this planet Atra'Lamia, the portals are the key, after this i will reveal a valued ally in which will help us claim Tia, whom will move with such determination that the ground before him trembles and quakes in fear."
Standing up from his chair he placed the crystal like sphere back upon the table, letting it rest in perfect stillness despite it's shape, a gift to his cheeky mortal companion whom so enjoyed his little jokes. "You give me clearance to move from this world Atra, and i will show you a plane that no mortal has stood before, that no one other then me and my siblings has had the pleasure of seeing." He would not wait for her response before he started to wander in the direction of the portals, he was in no rush with his steps nor was it a power play move. Either she would accept or she wouldn't, but ultimately this was irrelevant. Without her help he would still strive towards his goals, though with her help he would of gained a powerful ally, unrestricted movement through the continent of Terrenus which would simply make those goals easier for the both of them.
Satrina: Encapsulate on an expedition into the nostalgia...
For every consequence there is a foundation; and who shall have the right to own it?
What a question to behold beneath the cosmos that stands in question.
And to kill a killer, you must be a more severe killer,
or perish in the trembling wake of the voids merciless maws.
And so it may be asked by philosophers how one 'seer' gets imperviousness to a certain malady, and at what price; for there always is a price that comes with enlightenment or gnosis...that price depends on the actual worth of the soul when it is measured and source such things are obtained. "What source was it?" Insofar, a virtuous question; and hence to the revelation of such... life no matter where you are sent, has it trials and tribulations. Shall she share a dream or the sad shores of tales unspoken? Notions flickered through her mind while he spoke, each word dancing in her mind, the quantum physics and equations of each word compiled correctly to the definition and syntax of its 'true' agenda. Deciphering if any lies were being spoken, and knowing in fact had they been, despite how elaborately cloaked in politeness and prose... Atra would see between the lines and witness for what it is, true or false.
An amused glimmer drifted over her features musing at the levitating globe adrift upon the air, beguiling blood oceans and the streams of chaos that flows into them. The light dancing within its crux, symbolic of the summer lightning, the storm-piercing illume of superbly fashioned nightmares. There were no delusions, nothing to misconstrue, all things were as they were, and even as his energies washed over her like a tide of darkness, hers repeated the same in representation of ‘who’ she was. Her duty surpassed any 'physical' nation, any 'physical location', eons to millennia, before these planets had been spat out from the womb of creation to form the star-scattered universe these creatures looked upon, and admired as a thing of beauty. Disappointment sunk its talons into her heart, though not knowing the true extent as to why, perhaps it was moreso in herself for failing to see?
Still, her attentions focused back to Animula, "My purpose does not begin nor finish here in Tia, Animula. I have yet to earn the love of a world I know nothing of, to fight for people who may rise against me. But, if I shy away, that makes me less befitting for the role. And I understand the mayor's position of this city, because I am yet to face it, myself." Smooth-honeyed tones sung forth his name, how the sounds undulated, emphasizing and stressing the upper tones into the silk-mellifluous timbres of her accent followed by a chuckle. "For whatever design or agenda that this city's major may or may not have, you give her more discredit by assuming her position. All have their opinion on how a city should be run and held in the esteem and love for its people, and, even though perhaps some of her ideas may be incorrect for some, it will not be so for all. I know her heart. As for Terrenus and Tia, this world’s politics are intricate and delicate, for only a relatively new world in comparison to others, it's unspoiled lands are rich with opportunity, Animula. Whether my beloved dear sister and dearest friend have insulted the people of Tia, it is for them to bring it to office and to public light, or to speak up perhaps more forwardly with the voice of a nation?" The niggling sensation in the back of her mind, and the long tapered digit ceased playing with the engagement band around her finger, ending the communication link to Adrin, somewhat, abruptly. It now seemed this situation came with its perils not to mention risks, with the soft voice of concern, should such a link remain it could be detrimental to other things, and that quandary disturbed her further... not knowing why.
"Perhaps you should clear your eyes as I must clear mine, and see... see truly something worthy other than what our eyes wish to see... perhaps something beyond this solemn mourning of truth can be found? I assure you, I am gripped by duty. Perchance not wholly, that riddled and careless meanings rest unrolled on tongues of those who lack wisdom, yet, conceivably my mouth is strangely wistful for hidden things none know not of. And my eyes... see far across the universe, and they never forget, and, even less forgiving. But I know of my heart and that is where I look for truth when staring into the face of doubt." Vespertine, the philtre of Tia’s wealth resided in that crystalline glass entwined, not so blissfully magistral, but very regal in her stateliness. Sanguinolent in its dark hues, gently swirling the sweet liquid, rhythmically against the inner wall of the glass, what looked to be an innocent action bore a whole new weight upon the situation and not just one of wine appreciation. As the wine lapped the glass only to swish around again, seraphimic barriers and walls began to escalate from the energy summoned by the motion of glass, then amplified by vibrational influences, rising from around the table only to form a dome above—a nimbus of unbendable 'light'; a pearlescent transparent shimmer. To conceal from the exterior but also seal from the interior. Using that 'divine' energy (also messing with electromagnetic and transmissive currents) to then tweak that dome tighter, more solid at least in effectiveness... applying a bit of pressure, enough to make it noticeable. Nothing of visual or audibility able to be received broadcasted or heard. "And I do protect those I love, vehemently, that I have no qualms in placing my life on the line, or before the jaws of adversary!"
Raising the glass towards him, though tilting it just a little spills upon the surface of the table, and her eyes look upon it casting forth the images from her mind while they play a visual sequence for his to share. Then tilting the glass towards him, as if gesturing towards a toast... then placing the rim of the glass towards her nose "It is a shame that even the menial things in life, we do not get to taste, but I am deprived of many things... and wine is the least of those to mourn over...". Inhaling the delicious fragrances-- eyes languidly closing, ebony lashes resting against the sculptured surface, thoughtful in her reflection; a pensive visage that sometimes preternatural light emanating from her void-like eyes. "Let me reveal unto you, a little story..." born on the voice of a silver star perished by the beauty of devouring black suns.
"I have governed from the Outer Gates of the Zone beyond the Great Gates of Ganzir, and the fought the wars of the ancient Lilit in a time long before the homosapiens knew what it was of breath and free-will, when we danced in chaos and war, and that was all we knew. The Inner Gates of Eden to the Cedar Crags of Mesopotamia, who fought an eminent battle with the fifth king of Uruk! The fall of Krhact-saatth, that abysmal -forgotten star; they were a sombre, necromantic, clandestine, many-sorrowed people; who dwelt beneath that plutonian sky of endless twilight. It burdens a heart beyond words to watch a world die, devoured till only you remain and the ashes. To remain, bound and tied to duty. This is not to boast, I have seen more of war than what I have of love, more death than what I have of life. I have seen more treachery and I have of loyalty and I have seen many worlds from the Abyss to Ayenee, in many spheres through the blackest of voids. So what of your world, Star-Traveller... what does it have to offer me, when all others but one [Lorenz] have left me unsated? I seem to be lost to my own assumed 'darkness' why trade it in for another? I extend my eyes to the light, that is where I reign, people mistake me, and they terribly underestimate me."
... The gentle flutters of the leaves that expire, whisper and sigh of ruinous gardens.
NamelessAssailant: Fate has a funny way off bringing up the past.
Heeled footsteps from his fine seemingly leather boots clicking upon the stone surface as he risen from the table, only to be stopped by her voice emanating around him, curling around his form. His head cantered yet his body did not follow, her words registering with his eidetic memory whilst he took in the sights and sounds from the busy city streets. Energies entwined, crashing against his form in waves of pure power, met only by the continuous stream sent forth naturally by himself, an energy signature which could not be felt in Tia, but throughout Terrenus. No doubt this could be felt, the meeting of the two sending ripples through the arcane web, a source that possibly could be felt greater the the glaciers residing in the north. Two creatures whom at this point in time were locked in a deliciously delicate battle of words and politics, where none were ready to reveal to much and yet had already revealed what was needed for the other to know whom they were dealing with. Perhaps she underestimated him? Perhaps the hidden subtext between the lines had gone lost on her and yet no lies had been spewed.
Vibrations plucked the string of the Arcane web, pushing forward far past the meeting at Antiquity Tea and into the room in which he had so casually invaded, where they had first made each other known if not to the world, then to each other. He wasn't tuned into the room at this point however so he could not hear what was going on, nor see the actions of those involved. He could however feel the surge of emotions rush through Satrina as the signals came back. Betrayal, anger, it was written within the pulses that emanated from her.
His body turned to face, naturalistic luminescent green sweeping over her like beams from a lighthouse, surveying the shores of her skin. Slight smile raising from the corners of his lips into a semi smirk, revealing the pearly white gates which rested beneath. He was amused, that trivial things she allowed to effect her, that when in the grand scheme of things ones opinion meant little. Was this a mute point? For he had bought her to this meeting and given her his opinion on how the city of Tia was going to be met with dark times, that this women wished for a fortress, not a city full of people to rule.
Still as the last of her words hit his highly tuned ears she seemed not to understand why he had said what he said, there was no boasting for he felt that it was never needed, being confident in who he is he need not put on displays of lavish arrogance for all to see. Far from it, he told her the story because it was required for her to understand what was to come, whom the one she would meet, that an allegiance would be formed, well he hoped.
The matter at hand required his undivided attention, and with that he casually sauntered back to the chair, taking a seat though not allowing his legs to travel under the table, simply lifting his right arm to rest over the back whilst the side of his body leaned.
"You ask the people to rise against the new government when after they had, they had their victory snatched. When they thought that they had defended their rights another comes in and takes them away? Have you not seen the men standing by the gates? Heard the mutterings of pastures new on the other side off the city walls? Perhaps you are right, that my observations over times inconceivable have led me astray from the preservation i once strove to uphold, that my trust in mortals has all but disappeared with the many lives lost through war." Animula's eyes were not focused on her now, more so staring down at the sphere which had not moved, still the liquid inside swirled as if a stormy sea, a torrent which coincidentally represented his mind at this point. A moment of thought, allowing her to continue on, reiterating his thoughts for him, allowing him to focus, to clear his mind of any distractions that had arisen.
The dome had appeared yet there are no change in his demeanor, sombre in appearance, obsidian hues flashing replacing the luminescent green, the liquid inside the newly formed sphere starting settle as finally gravity had taken hold, the sphere rolling across the table to be caught by him, fingers twisting it like some sort of chime ball. He did not speak, just listened as she in her own words explained how she had traveled across many stars and seen many wars, that before mortals had free'ed themselves from the divine binds which held them she was there to guide them, to fight over them with whomever took interest. His siblings perhaps? He doubted it, very rare would they get involved in something such as this, even now he was performing an act of rarity, allowing her to know whom he was, which in return she had granted him the very same respect. Still though as always after careful consideration the words seemed to drip from his tongue, without thought he seemed to wrap them within the guise of serenity, angelic tones rising.
"What does it have to offer you? To understand your own question you have to realise that this is no world you will travel too, there are no stars for you to view and no humans wandering it's dusty vast expanse. Where you view your adventures in the eyes of a mortal, you fail to see that mortality is what has allowed you to define your world. Eden? Mesopotamia? The plutonian sky?" He chuckled slightly, as he said the words it was starting to make sense. "These lands are nothing more then the imaginations of mortals come to life, your worlds defined by their fantastical stories, those you thought given titles that they willingly accept. Do not take this as me diminishing your efforts for i have no doubt that you have been on brink of death and spat in it's face, that these creatures you speak were powerful, war mongering demi gods. You have watched a world die when i have seen a galaxy fall, you speak of treachery and yet i offer a world where treachery is not recognised, where loyalty is merely companionship which stretches millenia. Love? such emotions do not register with us for they are fickle, marvelous creations within a mind which is vastly complex and yet simple in comparison. Life? Death? A continuous cycle which despite how one happens, returns them to the dust they had once came, the stars that would form in replacement of these lost planets."
Animula once more stood from the chair, walking over to the pearlescent barrier which surrounded them, lifting a finger to trace upon the psionic surface, plasma like energy forming at it's tip.
"I do not underestimate you Atra but you underestimate me, I offer you transcendence to a plane where gods stand, where the stars in the sky are replaced by the different universes which everything resides. I do not ask you to submit, i do not ask you to bow down to me, i ask you to join me in my goals, to help shape the world we both stand on now so that it does not end up in some cosmic dust storm." Pausing once more turning his head back to her, studying her for a second. It was strange, the waves he felt like nothing he had ever seen in this universe, this women was most certainly telling the truth in that she had experienced, she had been touched by the divine though not his siblings. Those that had risen in power they thought they were divine, if such a thing exists. But still they were limited, still they could not transcend to what he offered, the gates which allowed entry. His steps took him towards her, crouching down though his knee's did not touch the floor, either leg by the side of hers as he stood on his toes. "You are unique Atra, that was something i had recognised as soon as i saw you. Those i intend you to meet will see that too. Will they be happy you have walked upon our home soil? Only time, or lack there off will tell. But trust me when i say you cannot hide yourself any longer."
Pausing again he looked up to her, obsidian optics focused upon her own crystalline eyes. "You do not need to accept your subservient fate you have already resigned yourself too. I do not talk about anything as obvious as your connection with the other, nor your friendship with the Mayor. I talk about YOU, how YOUR in the interest in keeping peace have allowed yourself to fall into something which you are not." Shaking his head, it lowered only allowing the rim of his hat to hide his face. "I do not tell you these things to boast, i did not lay my history for you to be impressed, I told you what you needed to know to accept what was to come. If you feel you cannot join me now Atra then you are free to walk away, but believe me when i say that whatever you have faced in the past, pales in significance to the ones whom have been around before this universe existed, before any universe existed, the ones whom have created and shaped the deities that those around believe so hard in."
Satrina:
My love is an unfamiliar sentiment, a subtler unknown it seems, but far more potent than a disregarded deity's dreams...
To convey entirely would be to revolutionize the entirety of her philosophy which had already been challenged beyond question in order to prepare for future question-- already a thing of undetermined shadows, of half shaped allusion and forbidden assumption. Otherwise, it could never be touched by mortal hand or seen by mortal eye. Atra’s own slight function in the repugnant drama was restricted to its last act; and to her its earlier scenes were merely a filthy and ill-mannered incident. Yet, even so, the shattered spontaneous effect of its deviant dismay congested her perspective. Proceeding to this ‘habitual’ existence including Atra’s impartiality somewhat less fruitless to compromise, and certainly more officious to its deed? Silk woven on the gloomy, windy brink of some unsealed void, some terrestrial, half-open charnel, wherein the nethermost corruptions lurk and fester.
Stings by strings they were plucked only to play yet another musical tune, "I do not ask the people to rise, I ask them to speak as one nation, and declare their unrest to ears that are willing to listen. Homosapiens have never reduced themselves to the pits of silence, why should this situation play privy to anything else. Upsurge, always comes before peace, how else will they know what peace is? Mortals are elusive, their natures are elusive, and because, as with all these things, it is a mystery that can only properly approached indirectly, through metaphor. Neither you nor I can speak for these people, as I am the 'acting' Ambassador for Tia, here I sit, ready to listen to their parenthesis and displeasures. I however believe that if they give the mayor her chance, she will bring strength to Tia unlike never seen, so long as her trust is placed in the right people and not those with flowery words and striking charisma’s merely for show and not for the wisdom.Perhaps you should play the silent observer and see before you judge?" Shrugging slightly, shoulders lifting in a nonchalant manner, there was no more she could really say in regards to the matter, it was all speculation, heresy or controversy. Hysteria being thrown around like the oil on an old rag...
The sensual perfection of vernacular tone, again, whether uttered with silvery hints of solemnity or bliss that the latter lines evoking and provoking. Atra's responses not shaded with fear, and really gave no response other than when her accent rose of a dulcet cadence or a hushed whisper towards the mind of Animula, "My eyes, go beyond the liminal of mortal, you misplace my symbolism with that of your own dusty sentiments. For one so old, my dear you have a perverse perception of the cosmos. Galaxies fall, they also engorge their celestial bodies merely to be born again, and to those revelations of milestones I have travelled I assure you, my eyes are not so young they can be blinded by your silky words and infallible charm." There was nothing to be mistaken in her words, nor were they spoken due to lack of respect for neither his kind nor his business within this world. The mood further enthused by the sultry crests of opal and fire burning deep down in the chill and liquid ebon of Atra's eyes. Oh the bitter irony. When dreams come to the forefront of mind, swirling to the physical manifestations of reality... then born upon the shores of man? Could this be?
Maybe Atra was subversive in opposition, but demonstrated by experience, gnosis and unprejudiced opinion, an intellectual discourse that perhaps would have done well to study and apply with enthusiastic principle. A privilege or right that appeared strongly to have lacked elsewhere; with intentionally or unintentionally, the sting was felt beneath the sensitivity of disregard. "Your world speaks volumes of being a dead clump of rock, barren to the temptations that come with existence, the very builds desire that triggers creation and lays waste to a form of entropy or the necrosis of the soul/essence/whatever it is that flows through your veins? Nothing, emptiness and dust?" Even at the taunt to the barrier with a stroke of delicate provocation. Peculiar diamond- radiances brightened; where mist-like of faces merged, as if materializing through necromantic-smoke, gathering of vapors, human faces that melted and reformed incessantly and were never twice the same, at his touch only to dissolve and re-limned to invisibility. Challenge issued forth in each retort to his statements, the tone forever ranging between the honeyed to the assertive—but either beguiling with the bittersweet venom to tongue.
Imbued eyes like candles dancing in the night-tide hours—dark mists within them chilled, adamant "Oh such a dear heart!!", said with a kind of remorseless voice; a chill unearthly storm, dim from traversing the gulfs between the worlds, flown over imposing spheres of hoarfrost -bound wastelands. "I do not underestimate you at all, for that would be foolish and have me play folly to my own pitfalls. There are some that are long elapsed to the memory of man and forgotten to all worlds, oblivious to the terrible latter days of their unveiling. Those which are the most dreadful and vile of all are haply still to be declared. But among those that have revealed the squamous masses of their black ire and have made manifest their veritable presence. There is one which may not candidly be named, for its exceeding foulness. It is that spawn which the hidden dweller in the vaults has begotten upon transience." A questioning appearance crossed the features of her face, unsure if that reference had significance?
Retorting to Animula, there was nothing false in the words chosen or woven elaborately to form intricate patterns in the intellect... and as she wove a scene of elegance and illustration, the sentiment and the optical. Each relayed in subtle frequency so that her words would not be misconstrued or twisted to suit the chaos of a warped mind. "So, you ask of me to be a Judas, the betrayer of souls? The second line continues with this species of imagery: love is a pimp to life? Perhaps... is it a submissive... sometimes. However, love is the fire of the all universes and dimensions, for hatred, loathing and even apathy—is a dead-matter of a quintessence that long succumbs to the necrosis of oblivion. Love comes in the form of reverence and devotion, then what do your deities and Gods live on, if not reverence or devotion? Fear?"—closing her eyes, a cryptic weariness on edging over her lips and eyelids, seeming to meditate rather than sleep, like one who wanders in a maze of distant memories or profound reverie.
And there grew a tiny doubt — a doubt no less absurd than intolerable, but nevertheless, it was there. "It is life, the octet persists, whose lie exemplifies the covert of our dolour, and which makes immortal ‘mortal woes’, and this woe draws wisdom back from forgetfulness. The sestet resume the dismissal of love: love's kisses in compound reflex ‘the world's old dust’ and with the fires of Hell, it provides less gentle rest than death." "So feast your eyes upon this thing called love, the 'lust' of the final line and word, in dismissive, submissive, pejorative... opinion and suggestion of declaration or that of sentiment. The mere citation of love, it says, is kin to wrongness, kin to repression, kin to slavery, and kin to damnation. The words allied with love, 'Judas', 'lies', 'perfidy', are negative in tendency and disposition, highlighting love's falseness and inherent evil nature. So you tell me again that love is.... frivolous?" Clearing her throat and bestowing a slight confident smirk, love was such a misconstrued emotion and even she thought the same as Animula—her views had changed and a new philosophy merged from the darkness of fallacy.
The convivial dulcet speech, entwining the vocal chords with thorns and roses, as the deceptive dove sung her sweet melody. Energy extended towards Animula that he would feel the caress of light with subtle fingers in the darkness of the void beyond voids. His approach inspiring a change in Atra’s position and posture, causing her to shift slightly and pivot her physique angular to the left ideally bringing her form in close again and able to see eye to eye. Another energy undulation, flickered only to dissipate to the embittered breeze promising the tempest.
The rebirth of a new empire will spread afar the stars, into damned worlds undreamt of by mortal minds...
NamelessAssailant: His head still bowed whilst standing upon his toes in front of her, his knee's bent allowing his eyes to remain level with hers if he lifted his head. But he didn't, remaining in an almost subservient pose though this was not the intention. "A silent observer? Honeyed words repeated as he started to formulate his response, having listened to her words intently, the rim of his hat hiding his facial response if she cared to look. "I have been a silent observer for Millenia Atra? I have seen those rise up against their leaders only to be met with bloodshed. I have seen rebellions quelled with an iron fist so that they lived in fear and tyranny. These people will not rise up in a single union because their numbers will not be heard, they do not have the strength to ensure they prosper. Even your own words doubt what impact she can bring. Even you as you recite the conditions which must be met in order to ensure that Tia flourishes. Trusting in the right people? Let me ask do you believe this to be the case? The decisions that have already been made which are visible to the people off Tia, are these decisions which will allow such a thing to happen? That welcome their opinions or are they merely offers off scraps from the table to keep them begging for more? Animula let out a deep Ammonia tainted stench, the smell rising up in the atmosphere which even in such little concentrations would cause those around to turn their noses up, to avoid the spot which made their eyes water. "I believe you when you say she wishes Tia gain strength, but i also believe she is going about such things the wrong way. In order for the bloodshed to stop and for the rebellious to be satisfied, a drastic change is required."
Animula would stand, without notice nor restriction placing both hands on either of her knee's and applying pressure to ease the process. "Perhaps I am wrong Atra? Perhaps i have seen so much in Valucre's history that i no longer place faith in those that wish to lead them. They need a hand which not only will allow them to prosper, but also ensure that they are happy whilst they are. A nation can always prosper despite the unhappiness in which their lives are lead, tyrannical leaders forcing labour or spewing propaganda. Such things will not work whilst other cities do not employ the same tactics, whilst their family members tell of greener pastures on the other side of the walls which surround them."
He was at a loss, which was not a common occurrence to this claimed deity, not with words but his positioning. He did not want to leave this conversation as it was but his mind was already set. Despite the conversation which was taking place between them, albeit an interesting one where she had put points eloquently, even mentioning of one whom may not be named which caused a curious raise of a brow. Did she know of him? The one he had intended her to meet. The one that he was indeed the perfect symmetry off, for life could not exist without his deathly gaze.
"I ask you not to become Judas, the betrayer off a story which holds no significance. I ask that you now come forth and put forward your case as you have done to me. If you truly believe that this women is right for Tia then you will be heard, she will be saved and the city will hopefully rise as you envision. My mind however Atra has been made and despite the words exchanged here my actions are already defined. I offer you the chance to not plead the case of your existence but to decide the future of this world as our equal. We being creatures whom do not require the love off others as you believe, such things whilst important in defining your species history does not equate to ours. My siblings and I do not love each other, we understand each other, we respect the other for our unique perspectives that whilst they may vastly differ we have the same goals. The preservation of life, not just our own but all of life in it's complex variety. For that is the true miracle, that is the true divine touch which has graced the physical planes. There is no deceit for we are always open, there are no lies for they are our thoughts. Merely differences of opinion which have caused us to separate, to war as debates escalate."
Animula had been wandering within the make shift bubble which had surrounded them, the spectral visages which had appeared through it's pearlescent walls like wisps among the wind. Now he had stopped, standing in front of Atra as she sat, knee's pointed towards him. His eyes cast down towards hers if she would raise them to meet his, his hand offered out for only a few seconds for her to stand by his side. Not to submit to him, not for him to be her leader, but for her to join these debates that he had mentioned. If she would not accept his hand to bring her to her feet then he would merely turn his back on her, walking towards the portals in which was his original goal. He meant no disrespect by this, her not accepting his offer to stand would indicate that she did not wish to pursue this any further which of course was her own choice. He however was determined in his resolve, he must contact those of his own kind once more, for whilst Atra'Lamia could put forth a case, her words only confirmed to him that she did not have the whole in her hearts. By asking if he asked her to betray those she had come forth to know and love was indication that she did not understand what he asked, it was not about betrayal, it was about doing what she believed was right.
Satrina:
Again you stand, as once you stood...
Silken garlands of hair caught by the wind-talons, beads of rain luminous, like black jewels darker than the blackest of Tian rivers as the sky above opened and the fugitive rain poured down to relieve the street in arabesques of steam and vapours. Its precipitation frantically upon the dirty paved chromatic street and like a menacing spell fashioned a quagmire of halo-rimmed portals for the lone soul to travel. In the distance rolling thunder echoed in ear-splitting crescendos crashing down hump-backed Alps and reverberating from valley and vale like the accoutrements of the Tian Valley's. Pulled in by unseen forces, lightning lashed the great pile again and even the people who had been walking in street ducked for cover beneath the awnings. Atra had not moved, apart from the manner of how she sat, turned slightly in towards him—Erzulie-like in the pallid light between the sporadic flashes of lightening.
Eyes like black vast abysses locked on Animula's eyes, but not in the way he may have expected. Angular and not directly fixated, but beyond his decipherable form, ebon hair which fell over one bare shoulder and down, down beyond the Lorenzian uniform, all made Atra seem the Siren, and that she was indeed. In a throaty, haunted, other-worldly voice she spoke "XU'ZANA BITI SA ERIBUSU!". The only of ineffable thing about her demeanour were the golden glyphs and silver sigils forming intricate patterns across limbs, entwining beneath the taut fabric of her attire. Elaborate cuneiform inscriptions elusive, an elusive light reminiscent of the waning moon, or the phantasmal phosphorescence of the dead. Faint at first, the flickering of flames [Flame of Samael— Sanctus Incendia], dancing along the tapered limbs, the hues of frost and moonlight with the dim spectral blue. Insidious but indistinct waves of heat rippled outwards from her form, though still her features or expression gave away any hint of intention or cause.
The sphere around them, of seraphimic energy, sluggish at first (or what it appeared to be with the contorted facial imagery and unusual smoke/ miasma), but as time passed, consuming the 'negative' energies around it from the exterior influences only to purify them on contact adding to the potency of the globe, fuelling it. Reduction... each passing moment eventually growing 'smaller', programmed by the essence of his 'touch' and the quintessential calculations of locking/weaving his 'equation' into the energies circling [Seraphimic Trap] progressively solidifying as the time trickled past and the sands of the hourglass, ran out. Edging towards him, body leaning in from the waist while slender legs uncrossed and heels were placed ‘firmly’ against the pavement, symmetrically balanced in position, relaxed from the knee to thigh. Figure untroubled by the burden of physical laws. Atra leaned into towards him, since they were pretty much eye to eye on the level of sight, though perhaps not on the same page of ethics and judgment.
Lips of sculpted rubies moving just sojourn to his right ear (should she reach or close to the proximity of his shoulder), "Seal of darkness, where dead mouths mutter not in sleep, to betray oblivion's trust". What was this, a spell of some arcane tryst or riddle? Or merely words evolved from her salacious mouth where nightshade lingered to the hymn of some bitter lament. "You speak of worlds unknown, unseen by eyes of light and fires of life... and yet you concern yourself with the bitter affairs of this world and the politics of this world, the ways of one woman trying to mark on this world. Yet you judge! Without the offer to another elucidation, and you trifle yourself with these lower affairs? Speak of darkness and then in reprise utter words of peace and the end of bloodshed. So which is it, are you a prophet, a seer of peace or is that just the twisted tongue of pestilence speaking in order to subterfuge? A pretty package you preach, but I see the decay which lays beneath velvet words and a tempting smile."
In truth, Atra entirely understood this being; she had been there herself in the darkest of her days, and perhaps even those sorely missed; from time to time with a fond mind for destruction. She was after all the'Monarch of Darkbane', it was a mark and a taint that could never been scrubbed or flayed from her regardless of how well Atra feigned its presence beneath a subterfuge of her own. Perhaps 'that' was what struck the attentions of this entity and not the manner of her knowledge and disposition? And like a nemesis, his visage clung to her, a dark creeping sensation that rippled across her seated form—a conflict of essence? Matter and energy that is wholly diverse from all subterranean, celestial and terrestrial states and forms...
Of planets and dimensions, the transmuted negative power, amplified by countless folds (a paradox) by the dynamos of continuum, one that 'ideally' would remove him from this planar realm an incalculable distance from contemporary time and space. Causing an instant projection across the temporal stream that enfolds the entire cosmos in its endless, equal flowing and to the very darkness he so affectionately referred. "ISTU ULLANUMMA!" Uttered with a sorrowful timbre, that caused even the stars of the heavens to blink and weep. There emanated the visible and invisible agencies of annihilation; slowly at first, and then with cyclonic acceleration. Leaning forwards more, while the energies continued to solidify and constrict around in a labyrinthine whorl of luminosity and engulfed shadow, equation upon equation till they weaved an inescapable sequence. With televisic clarity, there grew in her mind, visually programming the globe with destination and co-ordinates, with the glaring perspectives of remote, black unearthly lands, the mightily swarming piles of nonhuman cities, lying beneath an incandescent of some waning, dying star.
For a moment, Atra felt herself loathing these lands and cities with the cold, imagineless rancour of a tainted otherworld psychology. Accent alternating, less harmonious... "I care not if you believe me to be your equal or not, your essence is like a dead carcass lying on a city dump, torpid and wilted and sprawling, amid a rotten chaos of ill- hotchpotch remnants and the maggots of narcissism, of rain-soaked whiskey cartons, empty wine bottles, soiled brassieres, worn-out tires and Sunday suits full of defunct moths and maybe a blue box or two labelled Kleenex." Apertures rolled into a macabre smile, whirling and falling emptiness, continuation of out-poured energies, and obviously 'evident', blurring the exterior world from sight, feeling the immeasurable eddying of the further voids, the frozen entropy of its carnivorous caress. Tempest-impel, wind-born dark rivulets wildly lashing in the gnarled embrace of such a cold revelation, a corpse of wind trapped in death throes, with crystalline 'frozen' clarity of the 'Outer Spaces'; a helix vacuum paradox as the world of Valucre began to vanish, and the starless blackness slowly opened its obsidian maws before them to devour... "BA-IO-DGALDINGIR", reverberant through caverns of the soul, uttered with all humanity's misery....
... But this was only so as to bring the games to a speedier end.
“Ah the scientific spirit, which cannot permit anything to be left alone and aspires to extract the entire universe of substance, people, data and even emotions into its own dreary, unearthly empire-- sooner or later, to throw its screwed-up, manipulative eyes on the splendour in the grain and the glory in the flower.”
Nameless Assailant: The heavy rain distracting him with it's melodic fall upon the uneven stone, worn through the constant steps of time passing, off the many Tian's, hero's and monsters whom have walked through the streets on their claim to fame. Streams mixing with the dried blood which still clung to it's surface, dropping through the decorative iron drains into the vast network of sewers beneath, highly tuned ears picking up each droplet as it became part of the bigger torrent flowing through the underground network into the river that ran by the city. The silence was stiffing, suffocating almost until soft words uttered from Aphrodite's lips in a language which was not recognised, though did it need to be? Darkness certainly prevalent against the back drop of the stormy sky causing the soft glow of glyph's which usually would of gone unnoticed to stand out within his periphery and draw his eyes. No words uttered in response, merely waiting to see what the effects were which soon enough came. The dome which surrounded them, clearly visible with the ghastly visages, tortured faces screaming in silent anguish running across the stone floor where the gaps acted as his reference.
No change in outward appearance, his eyes quickly removing from where they lay to return to her with attentive recognition, a slight twist in the corner of his lips perhaps? If one was perceptive they could certainly see that he was aware, but whilst in the midst of speech, a riddle or spell, an incantation to perhaps explain what was happening around him? Would she be able to tell such movements?
A deep resonating laughter escaping his lips, the ground before them showing stress, mini waves forming, crashing against the energy fueled dome which surrounded them. Could she have been so wrong? Relating him to death? Irrelevances for soon she will know the truth, soon she will meet the death that she so casually tosses around as insult, as if such words really meant much in the grand scheme of things. This women, this child had underestimated him and that move at least had sealed her fate.
His eyes obsidian black as they ever were, the tar like substance which was ever replenished naturally by the shadows which flocked to his whim, which begged him to return to their realm after craving his touch for so long. Void like stare with maniacal laughter building, his hands not removing from her form as now he knelt, he had not turned away after she had not taken her hand, but had stayed where he was with a soft touch on either knee.
His laughter had died down though sinister grin remained upon his features, the hat only exaggerating such with the shadow cast over one side of his face, defined separation off from his luminous skin. "Once again Atra you have underestimated me, for i am no prophet nor bringer of peace. I am not the essence of a dead carcass as it was so casually tossed into a refuse pile. Should i come back with a retort? Should i spin some line which is meant to cause equal pain? You have underestimated me Atra for your words mean nothing, the slide of my form like the rain drops which assault it." His head tilted a little, revealing the corner of his lip through the clear cut shadows which hid his expression. "You know of darkness Atra? Do you know of what you speak?" The shadows which pooled by his feet took on sudden life, flowing out in every direction hitting the sphere but not stopping, instead they flowed up the dome like structure as if a new coat of paint, eventually blocking all light which would enter, but more importantly the tar like substance was now closing in on them, the dome only fueling it's descent, aiding it. He was using her power, using the energy which she was expelling in the closing of this dome to fuel the plane shift that he so craved, that the shadows craved. Darkness within, no light to be amplified within the shadow structure, merely darkness, the void.
"I AM A GOD" The last words seeming to rumble through the energies, rippling the shadows which lined them though of course not visible, nothing was within the dome. It was quick, fueled by her own design the shadows had collapsed in on themselves, the dome reducing until nothing was left, the table in which they sat empty with the chairs unmoved. A huge crack thundered through the sky at their departure, the energy dispersing in it's singularity whilst the shadows scattered to whichever corner they had come from, both had disappeared from Valucre.
"Welcome to my world Lady Atra"
[Exit Animula and Atra'Lamia]
OOC
Credits: Thank you to NamelessAssailant aka Nick for the chance to write with you.
