Difference between revisions of "GoldenCat/AmberHunt02"

Revision as of 14:53, 7 November 2006

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Pale Day

Morning on Amber Post...

They had come late to the slaver's fortress, and the Captain was already out for a dinner until late at night when they finished the task of signing the mountain of paperwork at the bank... leaving the angels nothing to do but to go to their quarters in the nearby luxurious hotel, and wait....

Their night was of warmth and lust, taking them to quiet and peaceful dreams...

Interrupted by a visit of the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears.

And as the women wake up in each other's arms, heavy rain in a dark morning outside, they have the weight of their night, their dreams, their truths, weighing above them, harder than the pall of a thousand storms....

Selina de Windia: The rain falls heavily outside, as Selina comes to her senses in the room...looking right into the Pale Angel's face. Of course the Lover had to visit them when they slept in the same room. Of course.

She narrows her eyes and says in a sarcastic tone. "This is not how that usually begins."

Vorpal: Sometimes, all it takes is a single day for a person's view of life to change entirely.

Sometimes, all it takes is a single night, a single dream.

Vorpal opens her eyes slowly, her gaze quiet and hard as she stares at the woman opposite her. Once a stranger, once something of a rival, once a loved one. Now nothing but a bitter betrayer.

Vorpal pushes herself off Selina with deliberate air. She unsorts herself from their tangled blankets and climbs to her feet, the only thing covering her white skin the soulsteel amulet and its hearthstone dangling between her breasts. "I hope you are proud of yourself", she states, simply, her back bare and utterly unprotected as she strides over to the chair where her clothing is waiting. The sword is the first thing she picks up, the grating of soulsteel against the leather harness a cruel sound within their chamber.

Selina de Windia: "You still don't get it, do you?" Selina rasps, getting her sword without much trouble, not bothering to get up off of the bed. "Ah, don't say it: I'm a betraying slut who ruined everything. I should ignore the part of me that says I shouldn't be slaughtering my lovers anymore whenever they disappoint me so."

Vorpal: "I don't need to listen to your whining anymore", the Pale Angel continues with that same, ominous calmness. She sets the bared, heavy blade to rest against the wall from where she can easily snatch it, then turns her attention over to her undergarments. "You are just a piece of filth, after all."

Selina de Windia: "You're going to listen to it, you thick-headed little bitch." Selina growls, getting up off the bed. "Or I'm going to end you. There is no Prince, no Windwraith, no one to help you."

"Do you honestly think I would ruin what I managed to get out of spite?" She hisses. "The Dark Angel is not stupid."

Vorpal: "No, she's just a bloody idiot."

Panties on, she half-turns to face the Dark Angel, the profile of her naked being stark and white against the background of a window and its dark rain clouds. "I'm not going to listen to you nor to lecture to you." There is a rustle of cloth as she whisks her dark tunic up to rest on one shoulder like a towel. "Because it doesn't work with us. I will only ask you one question."

She pauses, and it is now that her mask of indifference begins to crack. Her brow twis in anger, her eyes sparkle brightly, her lips move sharply back and forth as she mouths every word with exaggerated clarity: "Why. In. The. Bloody. Hell. Couldn't. You. Say. Anything? "

Selina de Windia: "About Alex?" Selina asks, anger still in her tone. "Because I was waiting for time to take an edge off of it, you idiot! When I was confronted with our scheming, manipulating, whorish mistress, I could not resist the urge to throw that in her face: that she had failed. That I had put him beyond her reach! That I had given him sin with warning, so he'd know it and not fall to it. Something that is not your place to do -- it is mine. I am the stained whore, not you."

Vorpal: "That's not what I meant! " Vorpal shrieks abruptly, slapping her bare foot against carpet. It is not even the full force she is capable of, but even so, the stomp is powerful enough to send a shudder across the entire floor, making the tables rattle and decorative urns sway dangerously. "Why the fuck couldn't you tell me you were so jealous of him? Why the fuck couldn't you tell me the little bitch inside the red cube of ice had ordered you to rape him? Why the fuck couldn't you say you hated us so much?"

Selina de Windia: "I did tell you she ordered me to. More than once -- and she hurt me when she did it." Selina says simply. "During the party at Boil I told you. Then I realized not touching him would not be enough. I would have to show him sin and reason with him so it would lose its allure."

"As for the rest," Selina growls menacingly. "was it not already apparent the day I attacked you?! Except you are missing something with the hating: I hate you both, but I love you both as well. It is not something I have a choice over. I told him that. He said he loved you, when we were done. And I told him that was how I wanted it."

Vorpal: "So now you just wash away all of your responsibility with righteousness", Vorpal responds in disgust and pulls the tunic over her upper body. She thrusts her head out from the neckline and whisks her hair loose with a forceful yank of hand. "How nice. So I suppose you won't mind if I ride down to Nexus, kill your little brat and return to tell you and the Lover about how stylishly I tore his body in two? It's only for your own best, after all, since it's merely a matter of time before our beloved little mistress corrupts him for her own use. I would be saving him from a dark future as a deathlord's thrall and you from the trouble of having to kill him with your own hands."

"And before you say it - " she raises one finger, "yes, it is the same thing. The only difference would be that you'd be in the place of the sufferer instead of myself."

Selina de Windia: "You really think I did it to hurt you, don't you?" Selina shakes her head. "Obstinate wench."

Vorpal: "No. I'm just appalled that you went through all that and still have the nerve to be righteous about it. You wronged both me and Alex on your quest for vengeance, and there is still some strange chink in your mind that says that we should be praising you for your wenching! What kind of fucking saint do you think you are? "

Selina de Windia: "Fool." Selina bites off the word. "Just because I hate what you have with him does not mean I wish you both to fall in ruin. Or even one of you. The Lover truly did not choose you for your knowledge of how people work -- just for how well you swing a sword around."

Vorpal: "And there you go again", the Pale Angel snorts and turns back to the rest of her clothes. "In through one ear, out through the other. I said it already. Words don't work between us. Don't bother explaining yourself anymore. There is nothing for us to talk about."

Selina de Windia: "Apparently not, since I am not telling you the words you want to hear, you infantile little bitch." Selina spits, contempt thick in her voice. She did that, and this is what she gets! "You say it's all about me, but I am not the one who cannot share. What would you have done when Valencia finally made her move? I have barely seen them together and I saw how she looked at him."

"No, it's all about you. You and your disgusting romance, which is so perfect it can only exist in a book."

Vorpal: Vorpal pauses for a moment at that. Bent over the chair, she turns her head slightly and stares at her pair of boots waiting on the floor, her eyes and the gaze lingering in them thankfully hidden from Selina's view.

What indeed I would have done?

Killed her? Killed him?

"What's wrong with a storybook romance?" she asks with nonchalance she does not really feel, and picks up the next garment to don. "It was a nice dream while it lasted, but it has ended now. Thank you for waking me to the harsh reality once again. I needed it, I suppose. Now, get dressed. We have work to do."

Selina de Windia: That, of course, only enrages her more. "So it's to be all or nothing, is it? I hate people like you. Do you hear me? Look at my body." She gestures to the The Scar, to the other scars. "Look at my mind, my soul. They are filthy. I am unclean, but I still try to love. I killed my other loves because they left me in the mud like a filthy, discarded toy. Has this happened to you?"

Vorpal: Vorpal does not even bother to answer that particular question. She merely straightens her back long enough to give Selina a very weary look.

"Has it occurred to you", she asks after a while, speaking in surprisingly soft tones, "that you could have crawled into the mud by yourself? Maybe your lovers just got tired of pulling you out of there again and again?"

Selina de Windia: Selina glares at the other deathknight. "Has it occurred to you, that I did not choose to kill my parents and ruin my life, nor did I choose to get this thing" She stabs a finger into the center of the red scar, right into the middle of the magic circle. "tattooed on my belly, nor enjoy being violated by the demon who put it there? Maybe it should come to no surprise to you that I was messed up for awhile."

"You want to know why I look suspiciously at Cael and the others who size you up? Cause I don't want you to end up like me. I don't want to see you used and perverted by someone. I didn't trust Alex to not fall to corruption, so I made sure he would not, as best as I could. For both your sakes, oh yes, but yours especially. There was some small amount of triumphant jealousy involved in it, yes -- I cannot help that!"

Vorpal: "And I should be thanking you", the Pale Angel finishes for her darker counterpart. "For watching over me like a mother."

Selina de Windia: "I was not going to say that." Selina replies indignantly.

Vorpal: Vorpal tilts her head, the corner of her lip rising ever so slightly towards that familiar slanted posture. "But you thought so. That's why you are all huffy at my ungratefulness."

Selina de Windia: "It's not a matter of gratitude" Selina growls. "It's a matter of recognizing that I did not 'ruin your relationship' to get back at you both. If it was that, I would have had you both, in front of each other, the first bloody night. And I am capable of achieving this."

Vorpal: "You did", Vorpal responds, her tone hardening, her eyes narrowing. "It doesn't matter whether you intended it or not, you did. You don't intend to push someone's heirloom vase off the table, either, but you're damn right expected to apologize when it lies shattered on the floor. Well", she shrugs, "I'm not in habit of apologizing either, but that does not change the fact that you are expected to do it. Not expect for someone's acknowledgement of how much you helped them by breaking their vase."

Selina de Windia: "I'm sorry then." Selina says, looking away. "Not that I expect that to fix anything."

Vorpal: "It doesn't", Vorpal replies, honestly. "Too late for that."

Once again she turns back to finish her dressing. "Are you going to stay naked all day? I said we have work to do."

Selina de Windia: "There will be no work done until you acknowledge -- honestly -- my reasons for doing what I did." Selina states flatly. "I will not let you get away with sweeping my reasons under the rug and acting like that."

"Nor did I ruin your god-damned relationship." Selina growls. "It's ruined, because you want it to be ruined now."

Vorpal: "Acknowledged, then", Vorpal responds dryly, her back turned to Selina. "But not forgiven. Nor forgotten that your reasons were wrong and your actions mostly futile."

"If you love me, Selina de Windia, then respect me. I am not a child. I don't need your help to realize the danger Alex is in, nor do I need your protection from the likes of Cael and the others. I don't allow myself to be tilted to the bed by every other man or woman I meet, but that does not mean I do not know how some things work." Fastening the soulsteel brooch of her cloak, Vorpal turns back to give the Dark Angel a hard look. "I wish I could say I appreciate your efforts, but after all the damage your well-meaning actions caused, I cannot. Period. Now dress yourself."

Selina de Windia: "They were not futile. I showed him that turning to our path would bring him nothing." Selina says simply, finally looking for her leotard, slipping into it. "You are a rank coward. Go back to your skulking by yourself then, since real people don't work for you." She puts on the gloves and boots as well, feeling the coldness build within her. "And do not dare criticize me again. At least I have the guts to deal with life's disappointments."

Vorpal: That hurts Vorpal more than she cares to admit. She does not respond right away, merely picks up her gloves from the chair and lifts the great weight of her sword onto her shoulder.

She has almost reached the door when the finally pauses. She stands there silently for a moment, cloak-covered back towards the room, a silent figure with long white hair spilling over velvet black.

Finally, she speaks: "By killing them? Isn't that just another way to flee?

Selina de Windia: "After I asked them why, begged them not to. Most of them anyway." Selina replies, belting her weapons on. "But even that is more than you can muster, it seems." The greatcoat covers her.

"One disappointment," Selina snarls as her eyes bore holes into the other woman, baring her teeth viciously, holding up one gloved hand close to her chest and clenching it till the leather creaks. "One failure. And you run! At least I tried again. Me! Pathetic me! You cannot even muster that!"

Vorpal: Vorpal lifts her free hand, deliberately, up and over her shoulder and pulls the voluminous hood to cover her snowy head and hair from sight.

"I don't beg", she states, quietly, and opens the door.

Selina de Windia: "Because you hide." She hisses venomously.

Finishing stuffing the papers she needs into a pocket of her coat, after folding them, Selina snorts in disdain then triggers her magic, fading into shadows. Shadows that move about Vorpal and past, reappearing in front of her.

"I will not walk behind someone like that." She states, then moves off down the hallway.

Not ever.

Vorpal: Vorpal pauses as Selina reappears in front of her. Folding her arms, she tilts her head slightly and waits for the Dark Angel to vanish into the corridor.

Nor will I.

She makes a full turn and walks off, into the exact opposite direction.

Narrator: It is not long through the earthy streets filled with water puddles from the constant rain that the Pale Angel got to Amber Post itself, to meet the captain deSiri... who had been in a dinner then a reunion last night... and now, apparently, at a slave auction.

She is told to wait on an adjacent room together with others that wait in its many seats, while the bouncer, the same tall, armored ant creature who was at Amber Post's doors before stands there, telling the Pale Angel to wait. Nobody disturbs the slave auction.

Vorpal: "How long will it take?" Vorpal asks, folding her arms over her chest.

Narrator: The bouncer does the same with all four of his arms folded. "As long as he has to. Slaves are our trade, it has to be done well." He nods... and time passes. And passes..

Vorpal: "Tell deSiri I'm in no mood for waiting games", Vorpal replies with an uncaring wave of hand. "I'll be having breakfast at the inn. Tell him to join me." She moves to turn, then pauses, and adds: "And tell him he should hurry. It's not nice to keep a lady waiting. She gets edgy, since it's supposed to be her privilege to keep others waiting for her. He never enjoyed it when I was edgy."

And with that, she strides off, back to the inn.

Narrator: Vorpal comes back to the Inn through the small road, getting back to the breakfast hall... filled with people as usual.

At first, no waitress seems to come her way...

Vorpal: Oh, please.

Vorpal would otherwise allow a sarcastic smile decorate her face in a situation such as this, but she is in no mood for humor.

She waits by the doorway, back straight, arms folded, feet slightly apart and her head bent down as if in deep thought. There is that trick in letting other people know of your presence. You do not move or gesture at all, you do not shout, speak or clear your throat, you do not make a gaze contact with anyone in particular. In short, you make it very clear to everyone that you are not attempting to catch attention at all, yet, at the same time, you make everyone aware of your presence. You are the looming shape in the background, the silent form who seems to suck up all the sound and warmth from the room, the brooding mind that kills off all the joy from your surroundings.

Vorpal does just that now. Technically, she does threaten anyone nor attempt to disturb the general peace, but something about her dark being makes it loud and clear that someone would better come and take her into a table, or she might get... edgy.

Selina de Windia: Selina is already eating. Or, still eating. Not really paying attention to much around her, back to the entrance and where Vorpal is. Basically, not aware of the Pale Angel and slowly eating her meal, poking at it.

Narrator: They were all afraid of her.

None approached her in fear, but then they realised that might be even worse...

After a straw-drawing contest, the one to draw the short straw was no other than Mariana, a fae-blooded waitress that approached the Pale Angel tentatively... ".. E... ex... excuse... me? I... is there any... anything we can... do... for you...?"

Vorpal: "A table for two", Vorpal responds, matter-of-factly, and opens her eyes. "And food. You will be paid, so don't worry."

Narrator: "A... alr... alright! This way..." She gulps, trying hard to be more composed, but nearly jumping back as Vorpal opens her eyes, bringing the Pale Angel to her table... and trying not to stutter this time, trying to speak fast and decidedly! "HereGreatLadyIsThereAnythingICanDoForYou?PleaseTellMeYouLikedTheTableWhatWillYouWantForBreakFast?"

Vorpal: "Surprise me."

She pulls her cloak out of the way and sits down. The Dark Angel in the other end of the room might just as well not exist for her, this much she pays attention to her counterpart. After settling down comfortably, Vorpal pulls out a few coins from the folds of her clothins and tosses them over to the girl. "For starters. Tell me when you need more."

Narrator: On the rest of the room, Vorpal notices so many eyes are on her... subtle, however. No one wants to stare. The Dragon-Blooded there will not stare. The Raksha there will not stare. No one will stare. But all steal looks.... while Mariana picks the coins, trying a smile... "Thank you!" She says as sweat runs down her face as she thinks of what the Pale Angel would like.... "I will, I will, hope you will like!" She says as she runs off to the kitchen...

Vorpal: Maybe she was being unnecessarily mean to the girl, making her try and come up with something good enough for the Pale Angel to eat.

Vorpal's conscience nags at her a bit at this, but she soon tosses it out of her mind. The fact is, she feels like hurting someone badly, preferrably someone who would deserve it through their own stupidity. She had almost hurt the bouncer back at the slave auction, but such a thing wouldn't have been very wise, considering that she was supposed to be making a deal with captain deSiri, not make an enemy out of him and the Guild.

Although Vorpal does not appear like it, she is well aware of the sneaky glances, of course. In her present mood, they irritate her a bit.

Here's something to make you uncomfortable, she decides, impulsively.

She inhales deeply, as if yawning, covering her mouth with one hand and raising her elbows to her sides like little wings. She draws in further and further breath, feeling how the tunic she wears first turns taut and then begins to stretch over her expanding chest. She tilts her head slightly, allowing her hair to sensuously fall over one shoulder... before exhaling sharply, her elbows falling down. She leans her hands against the table, sitting unmoving and uncaring, as if nothing had ever even happened, waiting for the breakfast and the captain to arrive.

Narrator: It does not take too long and she is back, a basket on her hand! She sets it down in front of the Pale Angel, steaming.... "I... I thought you would ant fried rose petals... but then I thought it might be too much for a breakfast, then I got steaming melon pan... and then, and then, I decided to just add some honey to warm cheese bread.... I... I thought of all sorts of flavors! There're some strawberries too if they are your thing...I hope... hope you will like..."

Vorpal: "I'll decide after I've eaten", Vorpal replies, perhaps with a hint of warmth in her voice. "Come back then. I might give you a tip."

After a lazy, dismissive wave at the maid, she turns her eyes absently towards the doorway.

Now what's taking so long, deSiri, you old raiton?

Narrator: She looks at the doorway... and notices that not only was she sat a couple tables away from everyone else, but they have moved an extra table away. Apparently, just by her looking. And then, in a stroke of Mercury's coincidence, deSiri is on the doorway. Smiling at her, his face as usual so strange, with his long goatee and his long hair, like twin scimitars on his face.... the four-armed ant at his side as a bodyguard.

He waves at the Pale Angel, walking towards her....

Vorpal: "Oi", Vorpal calls to him without waving back, a piece of melon impaled by a knife in one hand. "You've been keeping me waiting."

Captain deSiri: "Sorry. You know I would never leave the great pale general waiting, would I?" He shrugs, with an amiable smile on his face trying to dispell any foul moods. "In fact, I will whip the people who let you waiting! Yes, whip! The Pale Angel should not be left waiting like that!" He nods... as his hand falls over her knife, in a prohibitive fashion. He shakes his head slightly.

Vorpal: Vorpal pauses at his gesture, looking up at his eyes... then she sets the knife down onto the table with a sigh. "A lady cannot even eat these days. Honestly, dealing with the Guild leaves me hungry. Sit down and tell me what you have been up to."

Captain deSiri: "You wouldn't believe! This war up north... we got refugees, we got a steady stream of slaves from Winlandia and Whiteshield, we also got plenty of mercenaries wanting to join in either of the many sides... takes all sorts! Even gods and the fae are running from it! We live in interesting times, General!" He nods, sagely.

????: A figure gets up then. A figure scarred, branded by fire in the shape of smokey-burn tatoos, half-covered in bandages... and picking something like a ball on his hand.... "The Firebrands rule here, Siri! Say goodbye to the Pale!" He calls, throwing the ball... and not at them. Not in a way they could stop... it is aimed at the table between them... faster than the ant can move...

And then, Firedust blows out, an explosion of searing fire taking them all....

Vorpal: There is no time for thought. No time for action. There is only time for instinct, and the Pale Angel's instinct tells her to move.

She cannot draw her heavy blade from such a position, so she doesn't. Instead, she dives across the table. The chair clatters onto the floor behind her. Twisting her waist, she yanks her shoulders and upper body around with brutal strength. The whirling movement that is immediately caught by her legs as well, and for a split-second she spins there like a black leaf in the wind, suspended horizontally in mid-air. The sheer force of the movement pulls the Betrayer up and away from her, its great soulsteel blade trailing the black light in a wild spiral --

-- the split-second passes. The blade gains enough momentum --

There is a chilling bang, and the flames are suddenly sent hurtling away from them all, tossed helplessly against the walls by a circular shockwave irresistible in its force.

The Pale Angel lands onto the floor in a lithe crouch, one foot extended to the side and the other bent under her, the sound of her boots stomping to a halt deafening in the silence that follows. Her broad velvet cloak slowly unravels itself from around her strong form, hems quietly falling in neat folds onto the floor behind her.

"...Finally", she murmurs after a moment, slowly raising the twin embers of her gaze to meet this latest enemy.

"I've felt like hurting someone all day now..."

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