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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SecondMovement|Second Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT ADanceOfAngels |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == Spire of Blood ==
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| − | Whiteshield....
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| − | A beautiful land. The mountains continue on as the Organ Peaks end, the fabled Silver Peak, the Manus Reach, and The Empress, a great mountain range that seems like a woman lying down.... the plains, green and so beautiful, just touched by the white of snow in the cold season.... before they died out at the touch of death. A touch that makes the arable land, normally a beautiful patchwork, look like a burnt one, fallen embers and cigarrete doing their damage, an uneven damage, more demonstration than widespread destruction, letting most of the peasants live their lives... for now. Not all know what Selina and Moon do. None down there know.... that the Labyrinth is about to open its fanged maw under Whiteshield
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| − | Many villages you pass through easily - some burnt and destroyed, and in others, a few guards with Dark Leather Armor overseeing and slouching in what would be a completely normal village, that lives on just the same. Something odd about those villaiges, though...
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| − | None came dogging at your heels. Few notices came of those looking for you. For now. Using preternatural skill at remaining unseen, you have slipped past most of the guards you did not slay. And Then, you come... to Spire.
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| − | Spire is one of the most well-known cities around Whiteshield. Rivaling with the Boil in size, but far greater upward, it is named for its central structure - the Palace of Timeless Winters - a spire that is so high its end disappears past the clouds in all but the clearest northern days... and the city itself, the last bastion of Whiteshield before Winlandia, is a mesh of both. While the Palace is so high, every other building on Spire is great, at least four stories tall, with walkways arcs high up... for the winged ones. A place of very powerful gods who take worship of the many living in it, the best of both worlds. Although it seems mostly to be calm from what you can see over its high walls, the spire is all dirty with the blood of many and many still are impaled around it. A demonstration. And on top, there is... something....
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| − | But what calls to the eye is, of course, the great Dark God on the gates of the city, vigilant with a patrol of undead and black soldiers.
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| − | Selina notices something, on all the villages.... how there was always the dead and destroyed, even on the villages where the invaders really did not try very hard to occupy. Like in every tiny village people had raised their voices.... what ability to inspire loyalty the royal family must have possessed!
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| − | And also, there is... something, amiss on the soldiers... something she can't quite pinpoint... but there is something definetly odd about them. At least, on some of them. And the presence of gods... that Seventh Moon can feel, but not quite. It is quite strange. Looking at the city, both notice that it is, mostly, intact. Same method of occupation as the Boil, a treaty, take care of a few people who tried to scream too loud, and a garrison. On top of the Spire, thouh... there is something glittering, surrounded by little gray butterflies, once shiny, now dull. A shield.
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| − | Moon knows about it, from his mentor. Tutelage on the gods of the north comes back, and he knows about it... as does the savant that is Selina, although to a lesser extent. the shield of Amaranthine, the Maiden of Adamant, goddess of protection, whose sanctum was in Whiteshield. Selina recognizes her name and her symbol, and Moon remembers all of her story....
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Without word or explanation, Moon had abandoned the cloth-wrapped bundle some time ago. Stealing into a corpse of trees that might have once been part of a wood-lot and burying it under a fallen log, he left it behind close to the road and quietly rejoined Selina.
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| − | Keeping off the road and low behind a veil of hedgerow, the Lunar stared quietly towards the city. The Spire. Again. He'd only passed here briefly before and kept away when he caught sight of the dark flag flying over it's walls, but it didn't seem like much had changed since the last time. Except for one glaring difference.
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| − | "Huh," he grunts, his voice almost flat and disinterested. "Looks like someone knifed Amaranthine. Or she traded turfs."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Selina is more preoccupied looking at the Dark God. She heard of the ways to turn one to the Underworld, even got tempted to learn so once or twice...
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| − | <i>I wonder what controls it, though...</i>
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| − | It could be a Nephwrack. More likely, it was a deathknight.
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| − | <i>But no, likely a deathknight.</i>
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| − | And Selina was aiming to kill as many of those as possible in this run. She looked to Moon. "Eh? Oh...chased her out or killed her off? Or has her captive. Bet I know who."
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| − | Of course, the answer wasn't hard, if the whore had the ability to do it. So...like her, from the experience the Windian had with the woman. Selina was wanting to smash her face into a stone wall repeatedly alot more lately -- especially since the tart'd tried to add her to the collection. <i>She</i> did not play the slave. <b>Ever</b>.
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| − | <i>Then I'll rape her. Till her voice goes hoarse. And then I'll give her to the <b>Lover.</b></i> The assassin chuckled darkly. Maybe her mistress was good for something afterall.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "And I bet I could guess..." the Lunar grunts, but his gaze has shifted away from the shield to the giant of bone standing guard at the gateway. Disappointing that it wasn't the same one he had seen destroy Anne's village, there was a small matter of a few choice comments that had been made he needed to discus with that one, but it still strikes him as somehow important that the towering figure is here at all. "Second one of those things I've seen. Wonder how many they actually got"
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "It's heavy support, probably quite a few." Selina rasps, glaring at it before looking around it, trying to see if there were anyone she'd be able to mark as deathknights close. Standing guard in a 'strider for hours was grunt work.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Mm... wanna bust it?" he asks, glancing over at her. It was hard to say how far outside of what they were asked to do that would be. The kid had only wanted them to look around a little and maybe break a few necks. So far, they' d already trashed a whole outpost.
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| − | "Or maybe we could swipe one and stash it somewhere..." though, looking at the warstider again, he realized how foolish that sounded. Where would you hide a twenty foot suit of bone armor?
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Selina narrows her enhanced eyesight, and sees them... no Deathknights that she can see, and no Soulsteel. The guards are mostly alike, and none of them stand out, except for the Strider. There are quite a few of them, of course... at least twenty, there.
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| − | "Nothing." She grates in disgust, looking back to the machine, then peering at the terrain around the city. No prey here. Maybe they were going to cluster into a group and wait for her.
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| − | <i>And they'll have handed me all the initiaitive I'll ever need if they do.</i>
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| − | "This place hasn't got anything we'd want."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Eh?" the Lunar looks back at her, frowning slightly. "Shouldn't we at least duck inside for a bit? Y'know... count how many they got here or something?"
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| − | Father of Crows had ordered the gangs in the Boil to do that, after the occupation. Keep tabs on the number of dead things wandering around and mug the death-priests whenever possible. Moon had always assumed it was so he could prepare properly for rebellion, just like they were supposed to be doing now, though knowing the old crazy it could have just been something he wanted done to see if they'd do it.
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "If you like." The Windian responds, poking one of her wings idly with a gloved hand, turquoise eyes averted from the city now as she scans the countryside. "I'm mostly interested in deathknights and bigger things for now, but I suppose we should see how many 'striders they have here."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Could be some of those Deathknights inside, too..." he agrees, brushing dirt off his knees as he stands up and backs away from the bush. There might not be anything worth finding inside, but he'd feel better if they at least took a look around.
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| − | "Back in the Boil," he continues, peeling off his still blood-stained coat and tossing it onto the ground. "After they took over, the only one who ever really paraded around much was that red-haired bitch. That was mostly to snatch up girls and drag 'um back to her little private whore house..." he paused to spit bitterly. "But the rest mostly kept outta sight. They wanted everyone to pretend like it was just business as usual and ignore that their grandpa who had been dead for three years just started doing patrols in the Ash District."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "She's a one for parading." Selina purrs balefully at no one present. "That's why I'm going have a little fun with her when I catch her, dearie. And the other. The white one <b>and</b> the red one."
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| − | Her eyes seem to burn as she chuckles then, looking to Moon. "Well, if you can think of a way to sneak in undetected...I suppose we can take a look. I do want to get out of axis with that garrison and Whiteshield, though. The first place they'll look is a straight line from there to the city."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> The way she purred rose the hairs on the back of his neck and made the skin on his ears tighten and burn. None of the girls in the gang ever spoke like that. Even Simma was pretty rough about things.
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| − | <i>"Hey, Moon, wanna hit my place and shag for a while? Bright Stream needs a break."</i>
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| − | He had been blatantly checking the black-winged woman over almost since they had met, but now suddenly Moon felt the urge to make a more furtive peek in her direction. Everyone knew about the Dark Angel, or at least her reputation, and so far she had lived up to it. But there was something <i>different</i> in that tone. Something that felt almost familiar.
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| − | Looking away before she could catch him, feeling a bit flustered, Moon fingered the odd, silver little amulet on his chest. "I think I can get in pretty easy, dunno about you though. You stand out a lot more than I do."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "We'll just go over the walls." She shrugs, then chuckles again, pursing her lips. "I have magic to hide my presence, don't worry. Then we'll see what there is to see. Can't stay in too long though -- don't want to be trapped in a city."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Sh," he huffed with a grin. "Some of us ain't got wings, honey. You go over the wall..."
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| − | Moon caressed the amulet with his finger tip again, catching the chain and dangling it on the air in front of him, before letting it drop back to his chest. The odd silver cube bounced against him slightly and it was like ripple passing through a pond. The Lunar's body waver faintly in the air, color distorting and bleeding together as they were washed out of his body.
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| − | "I'm gonna go through the front door," his disembodied voice finished.
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Right, I'll meet you about a block behind and to the north of the gate then." Selina steps back, out of his immediate field of vision, and exhales softly, suddenly no longer there. The eyes of onlookers -- all of them -- seem to wash off of her now, as if she's not important enough to notice. A ghost in the world of flesh and blood.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "A'ite, see ya inside," he answers. The air wavers faintly as he steps out of the bushes, like heat rising against the distant horizon. Without much haste, he strides purposefully towards the looming gate behind the bone-white giant. Cover was sparse between here and there, but it hardly mattered anyway. He was the wind. He was water. He was glass. He was... something hard to see.
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| − | Yeah, he wasn't much for poetics.
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| − | Moon stuffed his hands into his pants pockets against the cold, missing his jacket already, as he fell into the shadow of the wall, paying the Dark God little mind as he stepped onto the road into town and passed right between it's legs. His mind was on a lot of things - what he would do inside, where Sarah might be, how much he had poetry, how shapely Selina's legs were from behind. Just about anything but anything but concern for what he was doing. It had taken a while, but you got use to somethings when you were a living god. Like no one seeing you when you didn't want them to.
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| − | Hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind, and mind anywhere but here, Seventh Moon strode through the Gates of the Spire and headed down to where he was supposed to meet Selina.
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| − | Standing on the road just outside of the path it branched into, the Lunar smirked to himself. An alley. Great. Just like home. He stepped into the shadows between the buildings where no one could readily catch sight of him and tossed off the cloak of invisibility, color blossoming into the space he occupied. " ya around?" he asked the empty air softly.
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| − | With little problem, the two enter into Spire. Mostly clay and wood houses are in front, and the city goes like a stair - the smaller buildings in front of the walls, smaller than even said walls, and getting greater and taller, very unusually so, when they get closer to the great first age tower. But, where Selina and Moon meet, the houses are still small, the streets unpaved. The periphery of the city.
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Selina ripples out of the shadows deeper in the alleyway -- not like light is returning to normal about her instead of bending, but more that she is easier to notice. Attention returns to her form, a few pieces at a time. Of course, the more eye-catching ones. "Yes, sugar? I'm here." She says in a bemused tone.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Watching her reappear is an entertaining spectacle, like she was stepping out of shadow one piece at a time. One <i>fascinating</i> piece at a time. You'd almost think she had planned it that way.
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| − | He keeps himself from staring too much, but smiles at her as she comes into focus. "Should probably start checking out towards the center of the city. If they got more of those things here, it'll be there." He gestured towards the squat buildings around them. "No where in this neighborhood they're gonna hide one."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "One can never be sure..." She replies off-handedly, brushing off her greatcoat as she opens it slightly, letting it hang a bit more free and reveal the leotard and boots underneath. So she can, of course, access her weapons quicker if the need arises. The green gem at her throat remains dull, not activated.
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| − | "So you want to go there? We hide again, then?"
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> He shrugs and puts his hands back in his pockets. "You might wanna. Don't think they'll take much notice of me, though."
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| − | Which was an honest enough statement. Even with the silvery tattoos snaking down his arms, Moon didn't seem all that out of place with the rest of the poor cusses wandering the city. Even the spray of dark splotches on the hem of his shirt weren't readily identifiable as blood anymore.
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| − | "I'll just keep my head low and look unimportant," he told her. "Might get roughed up a bit, if they're bored, but it ain't nothin' I haven't handled before. Probably easier to keep track of one another if only one of us ain't all there anyway."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Right then, I'll tail you." Selina replies, nodding slightly and looking behind her, back into the depths of the alleyway. "If the central building has a dock for 'striders, they'll be there. May be internal though."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> So, Moon lead the way and did just as he said. He kept his head bowed and his hands his pockets. He made sure to hunch and cringe, sometimes sniffle miserably and always ducked out of the way of any of the gray-clad soldiers patrolling the streets. It was an easy role for him to play - if you wanted to live through Cleaning Season, you got use to taking shit from garrison assholes and being one of the little people for a while.
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| − | But it didn't stop him from keeping his eyes open and his ears sharp to catch any snatches of conversation drifting his way. He'd slow as he passed clusters of people on the street, drifting by like a gray blur in the corner of their awareness, but straining to catch every hushed whisper or follow every furtive glance they might have cast. It made his progress slower than it could have been, but he didn't want to miss anything that could have been important.
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| − | <b>Spire:</b> Going through the city, Moon sees an occupation that went as lightly as the Boil's... nothing broken, nothing out of place... but <i>something</i> is amiss. The cats make less sound. The birds do not chirp. There are much, much less people than there should be on the street... or, actually, living there. at all Akin to the Vestal's hoarding, something was taken from them that makes each and every one left there... distressed.
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| − | Rumors about what happened in Whiteshield are only whispered, as if the shining capital was turned into a forsaken world overnight. Chants to the Undead drowning the worship to its deities, in a city that once had deities as such an importpart of it... and yet, few of the temples and shrines are desecrated. The soldiers are mostly from the city, and they seem to be just as scared. But the two or three clad in the church regalia he can see - scarlet, now, not black - walk around with a retinue of Undead, a signal to all who dare to defy them. All that, in an atmosphere of such great buildings, made Spire feel claustrophobic, crushing under the weight of its towers even with such wide streets.
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| − | On the waterways and lakes of the Palace of Timeless Winters, now turned red, its vegetation withered, stand only two creatures. Bodies covered in branded writings, pasty skin devoid of any hair... Selina knew them well, now. Visages of the Shining One.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Stepping into shadow of stoop outside one building, Moon squats onto his haunches and makes a show out of coughing and shivering. He turns his eyes this way and that, as if looking for some sign of aid on the street, but instead does what he can to take a closer look at the city around him. The new he's heard so far isn't exactly good and echoes of what happened in his own town seem to be passing through the streets. But in the Boil, it had been pretty young girls and handsome older women who were being snatched away. Here, it wasn't anything so obvious, though the color of the lake and the presence of the dark clad... things - things he can smell the sheer wrongness of even from here - leave a lot of possibilities open.
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| − | "You close darlin'?" he asks quietly, rocking back and forth and moving his lips further, as if he mumbled to himself.
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Unfortunately, Selina couldn't respond. Anyone finding out she was there would break the magic, she'd found that out before. As it was she was doing her best to remain as unremarkable as possible, hunching her wings in and wrapping her greatcoat around her tightly. At least she wasn't being shiny.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Answered that question. He smirked a little to himself and continued to rock faintly, rubbing his arms in an honest attempt to ward off the cold.
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| − | What to do from here? There were no more of those giants in the city, apparently, and that was the whole reason they had come here. But something else was clearly going on in the Spire. That left the question of which was more important, getting on to Whiteshield or figuring out what was happening in this city first.
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| − | Sheeyit times like this, he wished he had never left home. The only questions there were over who to go cause trouble for and who to sleep with at the end of the day. Sitting there wasn't going to help anything
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| − | <i>Fuck it</i>
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| − | Rising to his feet, Moon stepped over to the nearest person he could see and gently tapped their shoulder. "Hey, what the hell is going on here man?"
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| − | <b>Old Man:</b> The man, an old man taking his time staring at the s turned around, almost yelping, then shuddering, then seeing it is just... a kid. Moon has seen that face in many before. "You are... new here, aren't you? Didn't think that big <i>thing</i> of bone out there was allowing anyone in. Heh. Why are you here, boy, you should go far away... see that?" He points up, to the spire... and to the many impaled in it, and the blood of others. The blood that runs down to the lakes... "That is the work of that damned redhead and his dragon. Not a nice place to stay in, right now... least if you want to do any of the things I did on your age." He smiles, but it is a... sad smile.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Yeah, I'm new," he sniffed and jerked his head back towards the distant gate. "Snuck in behind a patrol, after they burned my families place down."
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| − | It was flimsy, but at least there was proof in the string of burnt out farmsteds they had passed on their way in. He shuddered and made his best worried expression. "Was waiting for that thing to step on me any second or someone to shout the alarm, but I don't think they're worried about anyone really wanting to get in... only reason I came was cause I needed somewhere to go, y'know?"
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| − | "What red head? Dragon?" And <i>his</i> dragon. Either the old man was blind or it was a very different red head.
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| − | <b>Old Man:</b> "Oh. Oh, of course, I suppose things are even worse out there, eh? Things are nice enough here, life goes on all the same... as long as they did not take anyone *you* like to those spikes." He looks up, sad
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| − | "What red head? Heh, thankfully you never saw him. Called <i>General of the Army of Blood and Fire</i>, and I am not forgetting this name while I live. He has a Dragon with him, a Fire one... and a Wood one bigger than a horse! it was him to throw people on those spikes.... I never saw someone so strong in all my life. But the general looks even stronger... red hair and beard, and muscles the size of my forehead, with an iron arm. The sort of image that gets burned into your mind, son...burned into your mind."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> <i>General of the Army of Blood and Fire</i>. And he had a Dragon-Blood with him? That would be something to remember. Another name on the list.
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| − | Moon nodded swiftly and spoke through chattering teeth. "I b-bet..."
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| − | "Buncha assholes, all of 'um," he sighed, looking up at the bodies dripping from the spikes. "Why the fuck did they do <i>that</i> though? Wasn't like anyone was resisting them, was it? They told us they wouldn't kill anyone that just went along with 'um, but my dad had to go and open his fuckin' mouth, so they killed him and burnt our place down."
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| − | That was the line they had gotten in the Boil, though it hadn't stopped the Bitch from snatching up every pretty face she could see and gleefully having anyone who protested hung in the Boys Field. It might have been the same, here.
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| − | <b>Old Man:</b> "Oh, they did... but there were protests. And those were silenced in the spire. And when they found out a group of youngsters was arming resistance with Teijen, our trickster spirit... the many-faced snow fox. Heh. I liked Teijen, even if his kids had stolen from me more than once." He pauses, looking up again, and pointing.
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| − | "See that faint blue glow on that spike? That was Teijen. And they threw every one of the kids at the spire, together with some people who simply... knew them. Were their relatives, lovers... that kind of thing."
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| − | "Well, not all. Some, they took away. They said their ghosts would forever envy those in the spire."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Bastards..." Moon hissed with more feeling than he intended. But it was too hard not to feel something. The spirit, whoever it had been, meant nothing, but the young men and woman hanging up there to feed the crows was another matter entirely. Just like home. Just like always. Step out of line and they'll put you down. It was the Boys Field all over again. The garrison had been traded for something worse, but they both did the same thing.
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| − | Moon's eyes flickered dangerously as he continued to stare up at the bodies impaled upon the spire. He was beginning to forget to hunch and look subdued, an angry fist curling in his pockets. "Fuckin' bastards," he repeated venomously through gritted teeth. "... someone needs to get them down. That just ain't right..."
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| − | <b>Old Man:</b> "Someone...." He says, looking up... "Yes, someone has to. But at this rate, I am not sure if anything will... we made sure the Realm forgot us, and now the only ones who could break this down are no more.... it hasn't been a month, and our spirit is crushed. In a few, people will just forget, I think.... because nothing could stop them. They come, stayed here, and when they came out of there early today, they almost trampled people on their path...."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> <i>No. You don't forget. You never fuckin' forget the Field when the Season comes, cause it's always out there waiting for you. Waiting for you to say something someone doesn't like or do something that gets you too much attention...</i>
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| − | And this would be worse. Cleaning Season every day of the year. Like hell.
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| − | "Hey, old timer..." Moon's voice was eerily calm and quite, but his body seemed to shiver, eyes intent on the spire before him. "How fast do you think you could get a lot of people together and be ready to run? Like, really run. Outta the city and outta the whole damn country?"
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| − | <b>Old Man:</b> "I wouldn't." He shrugs. "They would find out too quickly, and place us in the Spire as well. And why run out? To become beggars in Windia? Be taken by the Frozen Fog or the beings on the Shadowlands? Bad as this here is, boy... there are worse things than waiting for possible death in here. And that is, certain death out there."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> The old mans answer stunned him into silence. He turned to the man in disbelief and as he stared at the wrinkly face that seemed to beam with intent, that disbelief gave way to anger. "So <i>what</i>?" he snapped. "You'd rather stay here and wait to die anyway? Cause that's the only fuckin' thing waiting for you here, <i>codger.</i>"
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| − | His hands came out of his pockets and he grabbed the old man's arm, point towards the bloody structure before them. "Look at that and tell me if that looks like safety to you." He shoot his head. "Shit you think they're really gonna let anyone live when they're done with the place? They're gonna fuckin' <i>milk</i> you, old man, for every last drop they can get. Then they're gonna toss the husk on the Spire anyway."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> <i>They need a champion.</i> Selina thought, feeling the gazes of many sweep over her, considering the matter as Moon and the old man conversed.
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| − | <i>Or...an example.</i>
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| − | <i>An example of their conquers' mortality.</i>
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| − | | |
| − | The corpses of four or more deathknights would look nice on the Spire, she decided.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>And I will hang the General up in place of the Hierophant.</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>For <b>daring</b> to attack our allies.</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>'...my <b>creations</b>!'</i> comes an enraged followup deep within her, echoing out of her shard like a ghost from the past.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Old Man:</b> The man looks at Moon... then looks down, shaking his head. "I am sorry."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I am really sorry. Now keep your voice down, young man..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He points at the Soulhunters by the door of the Spire. "They are listening..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Thunder rumbles in the Lunar throat, his face distorted in disgust, the light flickering . "Yeah, whatever..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Throwing the old man's arm down, he thrusts his way past him and storms into a near by alley. One step out of sight. A second step out of mind. A third step neatly into a pivot as he turns suddenly and slams his fist into the wall.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "<i>Damn it,</i>" he growls faintly. "Buncha fuckin' cowards here, just like back home. Someone stomps into your turf and you don't even give 'um face?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Coming up behind Moon, Selina slides around him, deeper into the alleyway as her charm begins to wear off, creating the same effect as before. "That is probably a good thing, mind you." She begins, leaning against the wall idly. "An uprising would have gotten alot of people killed with no return."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> He hisses out a sigh, not yet looking up at the Windian. "Yeah, I know... but it's still fuckin' frustrating. They didn't even <i>try</i> to begin with. Like none of these chunks got any pride at all..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Slowly, he lets his fist wall from the side of the building. He stares at the thin cracks that formed around where his hand had struck the white-wash, then shakes his head slowly. Yeah, she was right. The old man too. It was frustrating, but hitting walls wasn't going to solve any of that.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "A'ite," cross his arms over his chest, he leans back against the wall close her. "Now what? Guessing you heard what was being said too."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I did." The Windian responds off-handedly, then shrugs, looking at him with her turquoise eyes, gauging him. "They got pride -- some left, anyway. It's why he even talked to you like he did." Then she nods off toward the Spire, toward the corpses spiked on top of the structure, even though neither can see it through the building in between them and the monolith. "Most of their pride? It's up there -- spiked as an example to them. They won't risk what's left easily, not unless they have a chance. Most anyway."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Pursing her lips, she looks at him again, more intensely. "I lived in the Cinnabar District, sugar. In a nasty whorehouse. For about a year and a half. A few of us didn't have anything left to be proud of: dull eyed, the whole deal." Shifting a bit, she sighs, then continues, wings spreading behind her a bit on the cold stone of the building's wall. "I didn't keep what was left after by trying to kill those men."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Sounds like you went to a Factory," he answers quietly after a long pause. "Factories do that, to people"
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Ain't the same, though." Looking down, he nudges a loose pathing stone with the toe of his boot. "That ain't someone coming into your home, into the place you made what it is with your own sweat and blood, and tellin' you how to live in it or killing you if you don't do it their way."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Shit like that, you kill for. You don't back down for nothing least, that's what I always thought." He smirked sourly and tipped his head back, face to the open sky. "Been proved wrong about that twice already."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Shrugging again, Selina moves off the wall, spreading her wings fully in the close quarters of the alleyway, than folding them behind her again. "They probably tried that. They're bidding their time now, and slowly forgetting. Not like freeing this city would help them, not with an army about."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She turns to him now, raising an eyebrow. "That army's commander is out of town, which means, we can go rifle through his stuff. I want to know what their forces are in the region."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Tch... guess it wouldn't," he sighs, rubbing the back of his hand against the faint scar on his cheek. It was itching again for some reason. It was hard to imagine anyone forgetting anything, with the giant in the doorway and the blood of their children pooling in the center of town. Some people were just suckers though and they'd need a little reminder, sooner or later.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "More backdoor work, huh?" he grinned at her, sounding eager for the first time in a while. "Yeah, I guess I could go for that. Something to do, at least..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | But not the only thing he'd do before they left. Not that by far.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "For a bit. Once we go in, we'd better skip town if we're spotted." Exhaling a bit louder than usual, the assassin smirks, activating her sense of all things underworld. "I don't think we can learn much here, but every little bit helps."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "He might have some shit worth swipping too," he grinned in responce, stepping away from the wall and closing to the Windian. "Guess it'll be fun digging through his drawers to find out. Might even find some new clothes..." he thoughtfully rubs his blood-spotted shirt.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "My clothes are fine. You may want to change those though, yes." Selina states, brushing her greatcoat off. The leotard and the rest were clean enough, and a little dirt didn't bother her overmuch. She'd spent plenty of times dirty. "But who knows what he has that's worth stealing."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Mmm..." he makes a show out of examining her coat and leotard, then holds his hands up and shrugs. "Eh, they're alright..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moving past her towards the mouth of the alley, he adds over his shoulder after an inflated pause. "Guess that means I'll just have to think of another reason to get you out of them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | A grin flashing on his face as he slips out onto the street, the Lunar shoves his hands back into his pockets and hunches low again, on the look out for someone else to accost and find out just where the old boy lives to being with.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Don't need to be out of em for that." She says in a low voice, moving a bit further up the alleyway, but staying out of the mouth of it, keeping her view on him while he steps closer to the exit, and looking over her shoulder and above. You'd be surprised what jumped on you from above in an alleyway.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>Might not even have to give a good reason.</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Moon walks a little in the city, trying to look for the perfect person to question... it is not after much walking, much later, that he seems to see a man who is not like the low-ranking soldiers around... someone who seems high-ranking enough to know what is going on, and low-ranking enough to not be noticed. In black cape obscuring most of him, but that certainly is the black leather of the guard, walking through the streets of the city, towards... someplace.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The Lunar's eyes narrow as he catches sight of the man in black and without missing a beat, fell in step a good twnety paces behind him. Past the first glance, he did his best to never let his eye fall upon the dark figure. He kept the man as a shadow in the corner of his vision as he shuffled and sniffled his way down the street. Just another displaced soul in a city out of allignment. Just another gray splatter on the walls.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>Well, if the old crazy could do it back in the Boil, suppose it couldn't be that hard...</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | He swept his gaze up and down the street, looking for any sign of a gray uniform or even a pair of eyes that seemed to alert for their own good. This wouldn't work too well, if someone was watching...
| |
| − | | |
| − | The Lunar looks about, and sees nothing special... quiet walking on the streets, people walking meekly, trying not to draw any attention to themselves....
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> As the man moved out of her range of sight, Selina cursed to herself. <i>Soon I'm going to have to reveal myself with the way this is going.</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | And that, would not be a happy thing. Wrapping her greatcoat around her again, she seems to drape herself in the curtains of anonomity once more, moving out of the alleyway and keeping to the side of the road as she does so, in order to not arouse suspicion.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> All clear? Clear enough... just more drifting shells around. Just like him. Silent. Unimportant...
| |
| − | | |
| − | A faint glow stirred through the air as the tips of this particular nobodies fingers silently sprouted tiny silver claws and the length of his already sharp teeth grew enough to peek a pair of sharp tipped fangs from the corners of his mouth.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon lengthened his stride. He didn't seem hurried or intent towards closing the gap between himself and the black-capped figure. Head still bowed submissively and shuddering against the cold, taking carefully peeks over his shoulder towards the gory monument in the center of town, to any casual observer he was just a man interested in getting home and putting as much distance between himself and the gruesome sight. Just like so many in the city. Eager to put it out of sight. Eager to forget. And for every step, he drew up closer behind the man in black.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Officer:</b> The man in the black cloak does not even register Moon, walking in his stride towards wherever, beggining to walk to the left, possibly to turn around the street or enter one of the stablishments to said left... his walk is terse, as if hurt.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> As the gap closed at first, Moon let his feet scuff the ground, coughed bitterly into his hands, and kept his eyes focused on nothing but where each step would put him, as if so uncertain of the world anymore he didn't even trust the ground to be where it should be.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>A'ite man... lets see whatcha know...</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon stepped into the mans shadow and it all ended. He rose upon the balls of his feet and glided behind him as if riding his shadow. The humbled head rose as eyes of silvery-ice took stock of the man intently - where his hands were, the position of his body, the center of his balance. Running his tongue over the moonsilver fangs glinting faintly, Seventh Moon waited till a path opened up beside them, then one step became a sudden lunge as he reached for the man with arms wide, one hand going to cover his mouth while the other brought the sharpended edges of his claws to the black-clad figures throat.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "A'ite fucker," Moon hisses into the mans ear. The sharpened points of his claws dig into the soft skin bellow them until blood wells up around them and trickles hot down the mans throat. "We're gonna have ourselves a little conversation. I'm gonna as you a few questions and for every answer I like, you can keep breathing. Every answer I don't like..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Achingly slow, Moon begins to rake his claws across his captives throat, plowing furrows into the mans flesh. In an over sweet, ridiculously pleasant tone, the Lunar chimes. "We good on this arrangement, darling?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Officer:</b> "Mmmhmmhmmmm!" He nods and says in agreement, words muffled by Moon's hands... not trying to escape before the claw against his neck. Just not worth it to lose one's life so, now, is it?
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Glad we understand each other..." the path of his claws stop, though the pressure is no less than what it was. Cautiously, he eases his hand away from the mans mouth slightly. "A'ite. Where does that shit the general live?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Officer:</b> "T-the... General?" He begins a semi-laugh, not too much not to sever his neck in the proccess... "H-he.. is... how can you not know...? You know, right...? On the barracks, everyone know. On the old castle barracks!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> The laugh annoys him, but Moon resists pressing his claws in again. He needed this man alive for a bit longer.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Thats one, good job," he pats the man cheek. "Next... where did the asshole go and how long is he gonna be there?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Officer:</b> "I-I don't know! Some emergency, everyone is on about the garrison that was blown up yesterday!" He cries, trying to move some, cold sweating coming down his face...
| |
| − | | |
| − | Her shadowland senses still active, Selina feels it... pouring out of the man. Pouring out of the man, pure necrotic energy... not on her level, on the level of deathknights or necromancy, far from it... but it is... radiating from him... like a....
| |
| − | | |
| − | ...like a beacon! A signal!
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> The Lunar smiled a little, but quickly repressed it. Never the less, he feels a bit of pride. Be damned if Selina's idea didn't work after all. At least it actually accomplished something more than giving him a good time.
| |
| − | | |
| − | His hand clamsp down tighter as the man tries to move, digging his claws in deeper for an instant. "Naw, naw... ain't nice to try to take off in the middle of a conversation. We still got a few more questions to go through. Like," ... like? Moon bit his lip a moment. Like what? Shit. His mind raced for something important sounding to ask. "Like... how many troops do you have around here? And how many of those nasty bastards like the one at the gate?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Perking up, Selina moves into the alleyway as stealhily as possible, undoing her greatcoat as she goes and drawing Angeldust after she's inside the alley. Chimes of Nothing appears on the blade, as the Windian hoists the weapon back, above her head, to sunder whatever magic is trying to escape the captive.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Then she brings the weapon down...not a real strike, not really. Fully inside the alleyway, hissing "Cover his mouth." As she does so.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "What? What for" Moon asks, looking back over his shoulder at her. But he complies before she answers. Act first, question later. Or do both at once. His hand closes tightly over the mans mouth, broad paw almost smothering him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | If the order wasn't enough, the sight of her weapon out puts the Lunar on edge and causes the hair to rise on the back of his neck. It was hard not to pull away as the glistening blade came swinging down, but Moon held on tightly and gave a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess that the Windian wouldn't cut them both open.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Just as Selina severs the Arcanoi with her scythe, Moon senses... above them... coming close... closer... the scent of death. Scent of dead things he had felt ever since he came into this city... two dead things. Moving <i>fast</i> towards them!
| |
| − | | |
| − | A scent on the wind. Darkness and death. Just like everything in this place, but there is a taint there that doesn't belong. A muddy odder of something that rotted on the inside long before it's body shriveled without. He doesn't know what they are, but he's smelled it often enough to know it and what was a distant unpleasantness for a while now was getting stronger quickly. "<i>Fuck!</i>" He curses in a loud whisper, his eyes turning skyward. "We've gotta get out of here Selina. We've got to get out of here <i>fast.</i> Something is coming and it ain't gonna be happy to see us."
| |
| − | | |
| − | As soon as the arcanoi drops, Selina feels it... the presence of the undead. Unlike Moon, she can only sense their general direction, but she can feel them, approaching....
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I don't run from <i>ghosts.</i>" The Windian growls, looking heavenward then putting Angeldust away quickly. Too much running, lately. Too much failure. At least she cut the magic in that person away. "He comes with us...for now. Let's lose ourselves in some alleys."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Stopping himself from simply tearing the officers throat out at Selina's word, Moon grunts in confirmation.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> <i>Yeah, great. Bring him along... great</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | Not taking any chances of the man in black putting up a fight, Moon bowed his body backwards limberly. He looked at that moment as if he were preparing himself to spring end over end and cartwheel down the alley. Nothing quite so acrobatic followed, when the Lunar snapped upwards and smashed his brow into the back of the mans head. Light was flashing, but it was behind his eyes in that instant, not in them. But, he'd done it often enough to know who would be hurt worse and he held on tight and waited for the body to slump in his arms.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The man falls unconscious to the ground after a loud sound, a loud thud, almost a crack.
| |
| − | | |
| − | As the man begins to fall, Moon scoops his limp form up neatly and tosses the body over his shoulder. Ignoring the throbbing pain lancing through his brow, he gives Selina a dizzy grin.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "A'ite, lets get outta here."
| |
| − | | |
| − | The building looked like it had been abandoned since at least the invasion, or perhaps the occupants now graced the horns of the spire. Half the windows were smashed out and the door rotting on it's hinges. The whole place smelled of rat droppings and small, black insects scurried under foot. A pile of moldy straw wrapped in thread-bare cloth that might have once been a mattress were the only furnishings. There was refuse scattered around the room, some sign that they hadn't been the only people to use it for a squat since the real owners had left.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Kinda reminds me of home," Moon said off-handedly, looking around the little room. He had set the black-clad body down in the corner after they ducked into the house, propping the mans limp form against the wall, then surveyed the rest of the building carefully, closing the shuddered windows and casting the room into a pale twilight where motes of dust stirred in the beams of lifeless sunlight filtering through the cracks.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I've slept in worse." Selina looks to the man, casting her gaze about for something to tie him up and gag him with as she unbuttons her greatcoat again. "More pink and red cushions, though." She taps her lips thoughtfully, then smirks. "Alot more."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers." It took a little bit of jiggling, but he finally manages to get the door closed, though the bottom squeeks loudly against the floor as he jams it back into place. Dusting off his hands, he turns around and checks the room again for any other openings. The air is stale and the scent makes his nose wrinkle. "Place could sure the fuck use some of the perfume from the red-lantern district though... "
| |
| − | | |
| − | Satisfied that at least no passing bum would be able to glance in and rush off to report them, Moon stalks back over to the black clad officer. The Lunar clicked his little silver claws together as cold, unfeeling eyes bore down on the man, as if he were a sculpter contemplating just what to carve out of a fresh block of stone.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "So, what should we do with this <i>load</i>?" he voice rose angerly at the last second and Moon jabbed the toe of his heavy boots hard into the officers belly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Well, it beats a midden heap. Sleeping in shit is never very appealing." Hanging her coat on what looks to be a sturdy enough wall fixture -- whether it was for clothing or not originally no longer matters -- and looks at the man. "We tie him up, gag him, and then wait for him to come to."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Tie him up with <i>what</i>?" Moon gestured around to the nearly barren room.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> The Windian kneels down next to the man, ripping the bottoms of his coat into long strips slowly as she angles her wings up and away from the floor. "This'll do...we gag him with the same." She replies, beginning to restrain him, then doing the same for a gag. "You hit him pretty hard, may be awhile before he comes to again."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Standing to her feat, she looks down at the captive with an odd satisfaction. "This'll hold him. Unless he's some deathknight playing disguse."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Tch." Comes a faint, amused grunt as Moon watches Selina work. Despite the situation, how far off it was, he couldn't stop the thought...
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>Lucky bastard.</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | Sarah never went for that kinda kinky shit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Heh, could always just carve his eyes out..." Squatting on his haunches, Moon regards the man with a feral smile, his silver fangs shimmering in the pale light. "Think that might slow down even one of your gang..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Another thought crosses his mind as he stares at the slow breathing of the man, the rise and fall of his chest, the dim beating of his heart thumping rhythmically in the outskirts of his senses. Father of Crows said it could be done, but Moon didn't usually like to contemplate the idea. Part of him he couldn't deny was always curious to try though, and another part, the part he tried to most often ignore, was always hungry for it too. Now, it told him, was the perfect excuse to sate the impulse...
| |
| − | | |
| − | But, not in front of her
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>Mmm other hungers</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon turned his gaze up to Selina, letting his eyes travel up from the black tips of her boots and over the pale contours of her legs, up further, passing over every curve and swell till he finally reached her eyes.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "So," he smiled, the look of a hound waiting to see if the cat would run. "What do we do till then?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Now?" She asks, turning her body to match her head's facing, slowly, on the heels of her boots. "Well, I suppose now we wait." She takes a few steps up to him, then stops, mischevious smirk still on her lips as she brushes her long pale blonde hair down a bit, voice turning sultry. "Perhaps you have an idea? Or should I suggest you see what a deathknight's like in bed? We're both thinking it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Looking past him for a moment, she regards the sole bed there, then shakes her head, tone more joking. "Sorry excuse for a bed, though."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> That the air of the room was hot and stiff, that it smelled of something foul. That there was a half-sleeping man they had just kidnapped laying on the floor a few steps away. None of that mattered. Words were ringing in his head - all of them hers and his eyes were alight with something smoldering.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Some things you don't need a bed for..." He rose lithely to his feet, his arm brushing against her hair, peering straight into her eyes. The warmth in the air suddenly had little to do with the room.
| |
| − | | |
| − | His thumbs were hooked in his pockets, but they stood close enough that when he stretched out his fingers, the tips of his claws still scratched lightly against her hips. His tone was softer, teasing faintly. "Seem to recall <i>someone</i> tellin' me that once"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "So I did." She purrs again, sideling up against Moon -- almost pressing her body on his -- and chuckling low in her throat, almost seeming to bare fangs that aren't there for a moment, then smirking naughtily again. "Ain't throwing my clothes on the floor, though...so you'll have to go around. But...some find that a bit <i>fun.</i>"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Had Moon been in a state of mind more alert, he may have taken more notice of the odd, unnatural scent that filled the air as she moved closer to him. He may have even paid attention to that dark little part of him that had been urging him along all this tie only to suddenly recoil from her. Maybe sometime later, he'd think back to it and take more notice. But then, no one would really fault him for not thinking with his head just then.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Eh, that ain't gonna be a problem..." his voice grew deeper with every word, softer, until it was little more than a hot whisper. Slipping his hands away from his pockets, he twisted his wrists and brushed the backs of his claws against her. One hand moved in a teasing, almost tickling caress up her side while the other explored her hip and journeyed purposefully inward until the cold tips brushed her thigh. "Might just have ta get a little creative..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Hmmph." The Windian murmurs almost amusedly, exhaling just a bit sharply as he lightly caresses her, her own voice down to a silky purr just above a whisper. "I'd like that."
| |
| − | | |
| − | One hand would reach around Moon, pulling him to her, and the other would join it as sighs in satisfaction. And a few shivers from the backs of his claws -- she'd never been petted by a Lunar before. Not one like this, anyway.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> His body stiffens noticeable for a second as they move into each other, then relaxes. A low rumble shivers in his throat as he leans into her further, lets his hand slide deeper between her thigh and rub slowly at her leg. He goes for her neck, first. Some part of him always wants to go there first. Lips caressing her pale skin, then parting to gentle bite, harsh points for rending flesh now dimpling her skin, the pulse of a vein strong bellow where he caressed her with his tongue.
| |
| − | | |
| − | He inhales deeply. Her scent is strong, body and blood, feminine and dark. Her flesh tasted sweet and clean in a way even Sarahs never did.
| |
| − | | |
| − | A thought occurs to him, as his fingers slip under the leg band of her leotard and begin to explore a deeper, warmer places on her body. This is the second time in his life he'd been standing somewhere that looks like shit, smells twice as bad, and had his hand dipped in royalty. Seventh Moon chuckles softly against her skin, but doesn't stop to explain.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Damn but was he gonna have some bragging rights when he got back home
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> <i>Not...too bad.</i> Selina thought, shivering again a bit as he kissed her neck, stroked her elsewhere. Her pulse quickened somewhat, and she did definitely come close to flinching when she felt the sharp points of teeth just settle on her throat. Just a bit, a feather-light touch. Enough to thrill her, and she murmured something approving as she nestled tighter against him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>Of course he isn't, you idiot.</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | She ended that thought with a hum, and one of her hands began exploring on its own. From there on, it went rather well. Considering the place she was in.
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| − | | |
| − | ----
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| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SecondMovement|Second Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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