Osiris
Uninitiated
Posts: 5
Title: The Ordinary Man
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Post by Osiris on Jun 14, 2017 16:59:01 GMT -5
I'm afraid there won't be time for that . . ."
The words drifted through the air with a singsong quality that was impossible to ignore, the voice a honeyed combination of smooth, male tones and a strange, translucent echo that drew the ear and perked the mind, causing it to hang on each syllable the melodious mouth created. Though it would undoubtedly be a surprise to the three gathered women, speaking in hushed tones of clandestine dealings, the voice would not come from afar, or over their shoulder, but instead at the end of the very table to which they had themselves sat. At the end of that table now sat a man, who though indistinct of feature, nonetheless occupied a space that each of the women must have been sure had been vacant until the man who now occupied it had spoken. They would all, perhaps, wonder how long he had been seated with them, especially since he seemed quite intimately acquainted with the subtleties of their conversation.
To fend off the inevitable surprise, the Ordinary Man raised a hand in calming way, clearly gesturing for the women to stay in their seats and not rise to defend themselves. Such was the impulse of hardened warriors, or the fearful, when they felt surprised, and though he had approached slowly and carefully, had taken his time before speaking, that he was not noticed by the least of them meant that each would register his 'sudden' appearance as a threat. Assuming the women would stay, and undoubtedly ask who he was, the Ordinary man would continue quickly, skipping past the basics of what must be said in normal introductions to strike true to the heart of his reason for appearing.
"Fear not - I bring you no threat. Only a warning, and one of great import, should you choose to listen. I ask that the four of you listen well - there will be limited time for me to answer your questions."
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Post by Jera on Jun 14, 2017 20:31:30 GMT -5
Jera was given puh-lenty to refocus on when Savryn started talking again. As the white-haired Marru'Khyran princess listed all the terrible crimes the fugitive Fureya NoName was guilty of the Halfblood's eyes became wider and wider, morphing the almondesque shapes into something more closely resembling saucers. Not only was this Fureya in league with a creature but she had more terrorist friends. Something clearly had to be done about this gang of horrible people. They couldn't just run around threatening those with Royal Blood. Jera took a moment to glance at all of the people around them, just as Savryn did. How could all of these people be a-okay with a terrorist in their midst? Jera herself wasn’t overly fond of Emperor Corvaelan, but Savryn clearly was amazing and deserved to feel safe. It wasn't that she wasn't listening to her red-haired mentor. It was simply that she couldn't grasp the larger context. To her mind, fighting for freedom could never involve trying to kill other people. That made you one of the bad guys. . .
Unfortunately Jera wouldn't be given a whole lot of time to consider the matter much deeper than that. An otherworldly voice sort of just washed over her and drew her child's focus inexorably toward the most nondescript person she'd ever seen in her life. When her mouth fell open a bit at the surprise at seeing that there was a fourth person― a man at that― seated at their table with them her reaction was possibly the most subdued and yet simultaneously exaggerated response mustered.
What? How did―? Who even―?!
A sort of half-strangled noise squeaked out of the Halfblood before she indignantly replied, "Um, excuse me?! You can't just sit with us! You have to be invited. Also: why is your voice so pretty, and clearly you can't count. . ." Without really understanding why she was suddenly much calmer. Clearly this Generic Man was no threat, and he really did have the most lovely voice. . .
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Post by Sabreíl on Jun 14, 2017 21:36:00 GMT -5
Sabreíl kept her expression even, even in the face of Savryn's rising anger. That anger, and the biting tone of voice that so often came with it, was something that the former Intercessor was extremely familiar with - suddenly, it was impossible not to see just how much the girl resembled her father - no amount of Vascxious Sigma upbringing could wipe away that distinction.
These charges are serious ones, child. However much faith you may have in Fureya as friend and confidante, you must consider that she may have fallen in with those of darker influence than she intended. Or Savryn could be misrepresenting things. Fureya isn't one to attack first - I've never seen her act as an aggressor, she always defends herself. So, then, what was she doing in Marru'Khyr anyway? Why would she travel all the way there just to incite violence? It doesn't make sense. Let's reserve all judgement until we get all of the information. Agreed. There may yet be a more complete explanation, as you say.
Sabreíl watched the Syrkhan princess calm herself with some interest, and also spared a look to Jera to see just how the girl was taking all this in. Clearly, she was enamored with Savryn - Ilyssa should have expected as much, given the way Jera had described their new dinner partner, but the girl was rapt in attention and hanging on Savryn's every word. Ilyssa knew the look - it was the same one she had given when she was a touch younger than Jera, the night she had decided it was a fantastic idea to sneak away from her older sister's watchful eye and steal off with a boy she was sure would be her first love. The Nephilim had to be extra vigilant where Jera and Savryn were concerned - it wouldn't be the slightest bit out of character for the girl to try and steal away with Savryn, or do something else that was foolish in order to help her new friend.
Ilyssa- Something is wrong.
Mithria's warning came as Savryn was suggesting absconding to her quarters in the Blooming Orchid. Sabreíl found herself staring past the Marru'Khyran princess to the fourth seat of the table, where -something was . . . Appearing? Sitting? Ilyssa couldn't make out anything but a shadow, or distortion . . . A distortion quickly resolving into the shape of a man.
A man who spoke.
Suddenly, Ilyssa felt as though she were falling - tumbling into blackness. A sense of vertigo accompanied a sense of intense emptiness, and suddenly she felt as though she were watching the table from a distance, rather than sitting there herself.
Did you just- Quiet! This creature is beyond you, child: let me handle this.
To those at the table, Sabreíl's entire demeanor would have seemed to change in an instant - her back straightened, and rather than the pleasant, neutral expression that had been warming her features, now the woman appe4ared carved from cold glass. Even her eyes, just a moment before as green as emeralds, had changed - were the girls to be looking, icy blue would greet their gaze instead. The voice, too, that came from Sabreíl's mouth sounded only slightly like it had only seconds before - the cadence and tone had changed, and the unearthly quality that had only before been hinted at now rang true like a bell through the room.
"Bring your warning quickly, then, and be gone as though you had come only in a dream - I shall not suffer these ones to endure your presence long. Speak!"
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Jun 14, 2017 21:50:59 GMT -5
Alissia gaped at the origin of the voice, staring at a man that she both had no hope of identifying and that had definitely not been there ten seconds ago. The bottom dropped out of the stomach of the Marru'Khyran Operative as her mind tried to make sense of what she was perceiving - the voice was enrapturing, and Alissia was both aware that she felt entranced by what it was saying and simultaneously didn't think it was odd at all that she suddenly felt so calmed and drawn to the voice. Yet, as she tried to make sense of the man's face - to find something, anything that she could latch on to as an identifying feature, she felt her gaze slipping again and again out of focus, always just before she could latch on to something real.
It took the woman a few heartbeats to get over how the sound of the words felt in order to replay them in her mind and grasp some of their content. What kind of warning did he bring, and why was time so much of a factor? Jera's words triggered a realization in Alissia too - why had he said four pf them, when there were clearly only three women for him to have been speaking to?
What was more startling than the man's appearance to Alissia, though, was the unearthly, cutting voice that came out of the Intercessor across the table - suddenly, the woman sounded completely different, as though she were possessed. What was going on?
Alissia couldn't make heads or tails of anything that was going on - she felt as though she were falling, and had no idea which direction was the sky and which was the ground. All she could do was try her best to focus on what the man was saying and attempt to make some sense out of it.
"What's so urgent, then? Who are you?"
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Osiris
Uninitiated
Posts: 5
Title: The Ordinary Man
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Post by Osiris on Jun 14, 2017 22:41:12 GMT -5
"I am afraid my warning is not meant for you - but her."
The Ordinary Man gestured generally towards Alissia Syrkhan as he spoke again, seemingly unphased by the sudden outburst from Sabreíl. In fact, the figure seemed to ignore the most powerful and imposing among them almost entirely, focusing his attention, vague though it was, on Alissia and, in turn, Jera, instead.
"The status of my being asked to appear, as well as that which I am, both are of little importance right now. What is of importance to you is your quarry - that which you seek is closer at hand than you could possibly imagine."
The vague figure held up a finger at the end of his statement, a gesture that not only asked for continued silence, but somehow seemed to impose it, as though any who chose to speak would be trying to push their words through water, instead of air. Even the tavern 'round the women seemed deathly silent . . . And eerily still.
"Allow me to explain what the next hour of your lives holds, quickly, so you will understand why it is I have come to speak with you. You will return, from here, to your quarters - yet, on your way, you will encounter your quarry . . . And he who walks beside her."
The figure's words were enrapturing, and they painted such a clear picture that those listening would nearly be able to see the events he described in their mind, as though they were memories of events that had already taken place. The walk, the cold, the sudden snowdrift . . . The sight of silver hair, the outcry, the burst of power.
The red.
The screams.
"Though the four of you will find them . . . Only two among you will survive the encounter. Those two that do not will accompany countless others, innocents, into death. Because, despite the power you each possess . . . It will not be enough. You are not ready. And you will fall."
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Post by Jera on Jun 14, 2017 23:35:07 GMT -5
The respective reactions of both Savryn and Sabreíl did not go unnoticed though Jera already felt the way she did when sitting before a well-tended fire. Her body seemed a lot heavier than it should but instead of it making her feel sleepy or otherwise not alert she really just felt calm and at peace. When she realized she could sit and listen to this extraordinarily ordinary man talk all day somehow the thought wasn't out of place.
That which we seek. . Did he mean the evil fugitive?
For once Jera experienced no impulse to offer a biting retort nor did she have a burning desire to ask a million more questions. Instead she was pulled into the Ordinary Man's voice-story. She could feel the bite of snow-cold through the warmth of her tunic. Somehow she both experienced this other reality and also understood that it wasn't real. Her pupils expanded to see better; the moonlight was limited and didn't offer much to go by. There was a scent on the air that didn't make sense for the cold. Lightning and burning air. The otherworldly narrative enveloped her as the outcry sounded, muted by the silence inside the Inn. There was chaos and blurred movement. Jera half-turned when she heard her name and felt the sudden emptiness as the breath was taken from her. In awe the Halfblood looked down to see dark red blooming from the center of her chest outward― a hole the size of a fist had opened there― and shock was beginning to shake her form. There was a flash of red hair and suddenly her vision was blocked by white. She was still in the Tavern with Savryn and her teacher, but she was also facedown in the snow, in the dark. Watching helplessly as two shadowed figures converged on Savryn only yards away. Jera watched her own hand tremble as she reached, understanding that she wouldn't ever move from this spot again. That it was her lifeblood pouring from her mouth and staining the snow.
And then there was nothing.
You are not ready. And you will fall.
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Post by Sabreíl on Jun 15, 2017 0:26:23 GMT -5
Despite her apparent anger at the Stranger’s presence, Sabreíl nonetheless did not interrupt the figure as he spoke. Yet, the Nephilim’s eyes burned brighter blue still as she watched, her teeth clenching as she rapidly picked apart what was being said.
Wait, is he trying to say he can tell the future? What’s going on, who IS he?! A being beyond the scope of your understanding. I believe he can see outside of time, yet that does not mean I trust in his words. He not only seems to know about you, but is saying that Jera and Savryn are going to die? And be killed by Fureya and whatever she is traveling with? He is indicating that Fureya either is, or will very shortly be, here in Tamryn. That is likely the only portion of his scenario that is truly certain, however.
”You bring this warning to spare them this fate, then? And where is it that you claim I shall be, when these young ones fall to their fate? Surely, you who sees me as I truly am, would not be so foolish as to think that I lack the strength to protect them!”
Sabreíl’s hands were splayed on the table in front of her, and from her fingers began to writhe blue-grey tendrils of energy that licked at the wood like electricity, leaving black burn marks on the weathered wood. Similar tendrils threatened to escape her eyes, as though the raw magical force that was within Sabreíl’s body was having difficulty being contained.
”What would you have us do, if such a fate is foretold? For surely taking another path would avoid such calamity. I can take them away, and avoid such a chance encounter. Yet, now that you have spoken, you have set this future partially in stone.”
Wait, what? If this path is the most likely, by telling us what is in store, he has virtually assured it. Think of it, child – Savryn has been told exactly where here quarry is to be. Would you turn away from your goal due to the threat of death? Or would you change your plan, act more cautiously, and yet still try and accomplish that which you sought, and cheat death all the while? By telling Savryn what to expect, he has virtually assured that she will meet the end he has indicated. Such is the way of prophecy – we more often walk the intended path while trying to escape it than we do wreathed in our own ignorance. So then, why didn’t he just make sure they walked a different way? Why all the show? I do not know.
”Tell us the true score of your music, specter, so that we may more appropriately devise the best steps with which to dance to it.”
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Jun 15, 2017 0:45:18 GMT -5
As Jera seemed to be, Alissia was drawn into the narrative the figure wove with his words. She saw the turn, saw them leave the Mountain Spring Inn and felt the cold bite of the nighttime wind on her cheeks. She remembered smiling at Jera in the dark, and sneaking a touch of her hand when Sabreíl wasn’t looking.
She saw Sabreíl step ahead, taking a shortcut. She saw the flash of silver ahead, felt the white-hot rage in her veins, felt herself rush forward, felt herself scream, her lungs and throat burning like her blood, felt herself strike-
Alissia also felt herself fall. She felt pain, darkness, and despair. She felt the heat of the blast that threw her to the earth, saw the countless innocent bystanders who had gathered torn to pieces by its force. She saw the blood leak from Jera’s chest, even as things began to get dark and cold as she realized she could only see from one eye, only feel half of her face.
She felt the darkness descend. And all the while, as she felt, it was the cutting, spectral force of Sabreíl’s voice that narrated past her visions.
Where was Sabreíl?
She saw the giant strike ahead – a glowing blue light, a lance that came from nowhere. A blur of motion, and then . . . the woman’s red hair caught in a maelstrom as she fell, fell through a hole in the sky, and vanished.
”You fall . . . through a dark hole in the sky. You disappear.”
Alissia ‘s words were nearly mumbled, and it was the sound of her own voice that helped her shake off the reverie that had settled on her, the spell that had been woven by this strange man’s stranger voice.
”Why are you telling us this?"
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Osiris
Uninitiated
Posts: 5
Title: The Ordinary Man
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Post by Osiris on Jun 15, 2017 10:45:06 GMT -5
The Ordinary Man seemed to primarily ignore Sabreíl, despite that her presence was made to be the most significant in the room. The woman was a light next to his shadow, with both parts of the incomplete whole shining brilliantly, though misguidedly - Mithria thought she could shake off the darkness of his presence with force, but the goddess of justice mistook subtlety and shadow for evil. That the Stranger was wreathed in misdirection and misunderstanding was not an attempt to deceive, but rather a failing of the minds viewing him to accurately perceive - though, of course, they were ultimately incapable of seeing him as he truly was, save perhaps Mithria herself, unbound by the mortal form she was trapped within.
"Because these events effect far more than only you. The calamity that approaches drowns not only the potential of your life, but chains others as well to an incompatible fate. You, your kin, your quarry, her consort - even those tasked with controlling the fate of the icy city above, all share in your fate, as too theirs shall be twisted. Such it is when those outside the bounds of mortality interfere with that which they should have left behind."
Though the Stranger did not move in any discernable way, all at the table would be aware that his gaze turned to Sabreíl with his last, most pointed words.
"Yet, I am afraid our time has run out. Just know, young ones, that, though your stories were meant to end this night, it shall not be so."
Slowly, the figure gestured to the other side of the table.
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Isis
Uninitiated
Posts: 2
Title: The Radiant Woman
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Post by Isis on Jun 18, 2017 22:57:02 GMT -5
The Radiant Woman stood before them at the conclusion of the Ordinary Man's gesture. Her dark eyes held theirs at once and none of the women seated at the table would remain troubled by the goings on around them. Time held his breath here too, for Isis could not be without grand repercussion.
To Alissia She offered a sun-dark hand to cup her chin and a gentle gesture to indicate her companions. You must go, Her Light said. It is only Death for you here, the whispers sighed. The Radiant Woman bestowed a smile upon her then, this princess of Marru'Khyr, and Light flooded the room that was blinding and not. She allowed the young woman a final look should she wish it before Her lips brushed against the tip of her nose― a sendoff that echoed that of her brother who was already waiting for her in the next place.
To Jera She held out both arms, gathering the girl like the child she was and comforting her with the sense of weightlessness. Like those before her this child of Marru'Khyr bore wounds that would chafe until Time could harden them into scars. Isis would touch the tears streaming from her eyes, causing them to pearl as they were cast instantly in citrine crystal― a parting gift among others she'd soon find on the other side.
To Mithria and to Ilyssa the Radiant Woman stepped lightly, bare feet soundless on the hardwood floors. Those endlessly dark eyes harbored eternity and Isis knew Mithria could do more than glimpse the Woman before her. Dark skinned hands that were both blackest jet and palest pearl wove into strands of red. Isis looked into her, Her mouth curving in delight at what she saw. Their mouths met and Her lips parted and suddenly the Light that filled the room was pouring into she who called herself Sabreíl. If she so chose she would see the women she had so easily come to think of as her charges and how it was their story ended. She would be shown the fear and the rage that hasted across eyes of silver, and too soon the horror that would fill them as he who walks beside her moved to seal the fate of Sabreíl. The longer Her mouth remained pressed to hers, the warmer the flow of Light. Should she relax into Her touch, and surely she would feel some compulsion to do just that, she might be left in wonder at the result. Isis' mouth smirked against hers as She grasped the Curse of Mithria in her hand and breathed into it, binding it even tighter from fulfilling its purpose and dragging its Nephilim carrier into madness. How foolish Mithria was in her youth, to mete out judgment as if she might never be forced to contend with the consequences of her own wrath. One day she might be invited to walk with the Speaker and The Hand That Moves, but until that day Isis could only offer the smallest gift― though one that would prove useful in the time to come.
As the Radiant Woman retreated from her the Light seemed to coalesce into a single point on her forehead. The Light became blinding for a fraction of second before fading into a lit-from-within impression of a waxing crescent nested in the ideogram of a full sun. The Mark would fade shortly, but the feeling that everything had changed would linger much longer. Just as easily as Isis stepped toward the red-haired woman so She stepped away, turning toward the Ordinary Man with a small smile.
Their time had come as well.
{ Location Change: Alissia Syrkhan & Jera to The Second Dominion; Sabreíl to Central Vascxious Sigma - Seventh District - The Basilica }
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Osiris
Uninitiated
Posts: 5
Title: The Ordinary Man
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Post by Osiris on Jun 22, 2017 21:14:22 GMT -5
The Ordinary Man folded his arms atop each other as his Companion did her work. The Labor was done, then, at least in majority - that which had been seen had now been altered, and while the other of his eternity struck out to handle the last of her task, the Stranger too, would have to move on to accomplish the remainder of his own.
Again, the Ordinary Man would rise, and walk - his lips closed, his visage unseen by those within the surroundings, to whom nothing would be amiss, despite the sudden absence of a table of female revelers. Perhaps they had never been within the tavern's confines - perhaps their table had already been taken by another group sharing similar traits. Nothing of note would be remembered, or even regarded for more than a mere fleeting moment.
The Ordinary man smiled, and walked.
{ Location Change to The Tower - City Seat }
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