|
|
| (2 intermediate revisions by 2 users not shown) |
| Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FifthMovement|Fifth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |
| − | | |
| − | == The Nightmare of Reality ==
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''"Was when Shadow Eyes first turned up, crazy old fuck. Offered ta train me. Teach me how ta do shit no one else could. Use the blood my bastard father gave me ta beat down everyone else twice as bad..."''
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''"The way you talk about it, he sounds... scary. What did he want, then?"''
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''"Me."''
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''"Wasn't trainin' me ta stop the gangs. He was train' me ta kill gods."''
| |
| − | | |
| − | Song had returned. Alex barely realised realised it was a beer when he took his own. He gulped it down, his eyes wide. Not that Song was any less. What Moon had just said was not common for anyone. A moment later, Alex realised what he had just drank, and coughed the beer out. "Say '''what'''?!?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: '''Moon offered Song a nod of thanks as he took his own beer, then worked up the energy for a playful slap to her ass she turn turned away. She looked back and glared. He grinned until she smiled too. It had been the first time he'd touched her since she'd started taking care of him. He was feeling better, even if the talk was making him depressed.
| |
| − | | |
| − | As Alex began to cough, Moon looked at him with disappointment and a shake of the head. Light weight. Can't hold it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Yeah, pretty fucked up, huh? Wanted me ta kill three of 'um. No one 'round here, at least. Said that was his price for trainin' my punk ass, when he finally got around to demandin' it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' That was simply wrong. It was well-known Chosen could do so, but... still.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Killings '''gods'''?
| |
| − | | |
| − | Suddenly, the images of Shadow Eyes seemed to not be as nice and epical, and... darker.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Why did he wanted to kill those three, however? You never even asked...?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''The price. Nothing is for free, is it? ''
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Tried once. He told me not ta ask again..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''And ripped me up good... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | That had been before Moon had been "Chosen" though. Funny how little that seemed to really mean. Chosen or just a punk with a fucked up heritage, some people could always slap you around
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Then the crazy fuck turned around 'n told me anyway. Showed me a buncha bones said were his wife. Said they'd killed the bitch. Then he started fuckin kissin um and shit." Moon snorted in disgusted amusement. "Crazy fucker."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Though, it hadnt been so amusing to him then. Standing in a dimly lit basement too old to have been part of the Boil, one that stank of corpse rot and filth. An entire wall of burning candles set around a shrine to a pile of ancient bones. Golden trinkets and bits of flesh preserved in jars hanging around them. Shadow Eyes whimpering, rotted teeth chattering, weeping and hissing as he held onto what use to be his wife.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon took a heavy swallow from his mug. Still wasnt all that amusing.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' ''This place is crazy''. is all the young prince could think of. The stories of fraticide and adultery that were scandals in Whiteshield are one thing... but those stories? Heroes killed by the army because they did not know better? Heroic officials seen as villains? Young boys freezing to death on the street? Gang wars with people dying and being raped all the time? An old... Chosen? Clutching to his wife's bones and hating gods... this place was crazy.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Alex held a disbelief as he looked at his mug of beer. The beer appeared to look back at him. He looked back at Moon. And tried again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | It did not specially endear him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "He never recovered, then. I wonder why gods had to intervene to kill his wife... there are some who stray from Heaven..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon paused for a second, the mug half way to his lips again, and frowned. It was something he'd never really thought about or felt the urge to ask Shadow Eyes. Why ''had'' a bunch of gods killed his woman? Seemed harsh. Seemed pointless too... somewhere in the back of his mind, he stirred for a moment in sympathy and whispered a promise for answers.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon squelched the sensation and finished sipping his beer. Moon didn't know a lot about gods, beyond how to kill them, but from what he'd seen out of the others, still didnt seem all that surprising. They were as fucked up as anyone.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Who knows man?" Moon shrugged, hands parting in a helpless gesture. "Maybe the bitch deserved it. Maybe they were strays. Shadow Eyes ain't said yet which it is I gotta beat down for him. Don't even know yet if I still gotta. He's been hooked up on somethin' else lately."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Oh? And what has that been? You... he seems to be from here, right? And yet he did not help the rebellion?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Alex put the beer down, and called Song. He asked for some wine. If he was to drink something with alcohol, might as well be something more to his liking. As she leaves, he turns back to Moon... "But you have not been continuing the story. What happened after he begun to train you?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: '''"Naw man, he helped..." he touched the bandages on his chest a moment, then smirked wanly. "Kinda."
| |
| − | | |
| − | A pause as Song left the room and an exasperated roll of the eyes at Alex's request. Not that Moon didn't drink wine either, when he could get it. But shit... you just don't waste beer.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The disapproving look gave way to a broad grin as Alex asked his question. "After? After I thought I was a fuckin' god on high. Seemed ta make a lotta people think I was. Pack kept gettin' bigger, our turf kept growing... Sheeyit, got ta the point where I didnt know half the fuckers wearin our colors."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Or maybe he had been just plain high. High on power. High on victory. After seeing how the others like him acted, the other Chosen, it made him wonder. They were a lot like he had been, back then. Running around like he owned whatever place he happened to be standing. Doing things just because he could, because no one could stop him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Maybe they were all like him. Stupid kids in a frenzy over how fucking great they thought they were. Just they never had anyone around to slap them down again and show them they werent.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Shit like that makes people notice ya though. Bad people."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' Alex was not wholly surprised... ''Shadow Eyes''. He thought it was so easy to know all the forces at work. It was not. So many powers he had no idea were even there... the sensation was not a warm one. To know you could only see the tip of the iceberg. And Moon's words... victory. He had tasted it once. Power, victory, followers... all Alex wanted, right now. All he wanted...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Like Whiteshield attracted Abyssals?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Like I attracted Deathknights? ''<br>
| |
| − | ''No... ''<br>
| |
| − | ''But like I will? ''<br>
| |
| − | ''Better to listen closely now... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | Alex leaned foward. His eyes fixed on Moon's. He wanted details of this.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Like Whiteshield attracted Abyssals.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon shrugged somewhat, then nodded. "Yeah, kinda. Guess the people I got weren't so bad compared to the shit goin' down here." They had been enough though. More than enough. "But you make enough noise and people notice ya. Either they want ya or they want ya dead. Had a buncha people after my ass for a while. Garrison wanted me dead. Spookies just wanted me. Fuck all if I could ever decide what Barr wanted. Seemed ta change his mind every time he sent someone ta meet with me."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Told um all ta fuck off. Dumb shit thing ta do, but I wasnt any brighter then than I am now, yknow?" he chuckled dryly at his own expense. But it was starting to hurt again, to talk about these things. To remember them. To have to think about what he had been like and realize how little hed changed. "Got lured down to a warehouse. Someone fed me a line of shit 'bout how there was weapons inside. Thought we'd break it, take 'um, and use 'um ta clear out the last gangs in the Ash."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Wasnt though" Moons voice grew a little quieter and his gaze distanced itself from the room again. "Some fucker set us up. Still dont know who. Barr maybe. Or that bitch Iria just know they were waitin inside for us."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "So, you got everyone against you... and walked into a trap."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He tried to imagine it. The silence of the night. The warehouse. Moon and so many others breaking into it. Shadows against the wall... all those images were foreign. But then, he added his own. So much blood. So many people screaming. The scent of blood and corpses. The screams in the air. The way all shook with violence. Those dry, dry sounds of things breaking...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... and your old Pack died?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Just like me... once. Twice. Thrice. ''<br>
| |
| − | ''You lost your family, you lost your family, you lost your followers... ''<br>
| |
| − | ''Moon... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' He only nodded an answer. There had been more to it than that. Chaos, shouting, someone screaming. Watching the little girl hed been sleeping with on the side go down next to him with an arrow through her eye. Something catching on fire. Going into a rage as he watched his gang getting cut down again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Those were memories of smoke and blood and flame. Of beating someones head into the floor until there wasn't anything left of it to even hold onto, then realizing he was the only one even left alive inside the building and that there was no way out anymore.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Those were memories hed never be drunk enough to share. Ever.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The air around Moon was shimmering and moving as he started to speak again, ripples creasing the room behind him. "Most. Some ran out. Got grabbed by a Garrison patrol and hauled off." They died later. He'd watched it happen from the wall. Again. "When I got out, ended up running into the bastards too. Least another group of 'um. Fuckers tried ta clip me."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''"Well shit, boys. Guess Heaven just opened right up and dropped our perpetrator right to us. What do you say, kid? Just admit you did it now and they probably wont kill you slowly." ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "That was when I changed, y'know? When this happened..." He tapped the lip of his mug against the circle on his brow.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Hauled off... to be killed by the patrol, right?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | The image was pretty clear in the prince's mind. At least he thought so. It was not. He could imagine worst things.. with the dead, demons, creatures... but he had never seen the depths of human cruelty, of human fear. "I... was Chosen like that. I had picked my father's blade from his corpse. Fiona was on chains, with the red-haired nun over her. Cedric was cold. Millia was crying. Otieno's blood still on my shirt. Mother's blood still on my hands, everyone dying around me..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Our gods seem to be attracted by tragedy, I think."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But you... you had this happen to you, losing your family, more than once... losing your friends, losing your followers... I should stop saying how horrible it was for me, right? You had... so much worse."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Again, he only nodded at first. It was almost a calm, accepting gesture, but his knuckles went white until the mug in his hands started to crack and the beer frothed out onto the floor. He hadnt saved them. Shadow Eyes told him not to. Told him to let the world think he was dead a while. And hed listened, just like hed always listened to the crazy old bastard. Listened and watched as the little that was left of his gang took a long drop on a short rope.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Pain. He felt it in his chest. He heard it in the soft voice speaking to him. Moon stared up into the prince's eyes. The distance between them was only a few steps across the floor, but it felt like less. Distance in years. Distance in station. Distance in lives. Bridged at least for a little while by something no one could really understand and no one should really have to.
| |
| − | | |
| − | They both knew what it was like to watch everything important die in front of you.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Our gods are fuckin assholes." Moon agreed, but then shook his head, lifting off his elbows. "But fucked is fucked man. Thats not shit someone can have worse than the next poor bastard over. We both got screwed bad enough, yknow?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' They were from completely different worlds.<br>
| |
| − | Completely different lives.<br>
| |
| − | And yet... they were so close, in that.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Alex understood. And wondered. How long he would still have ideals. How long until his new friends died as well. How long until the world turned its face and brought it all to dust. How long until he was like Moon or Vorpal... he said he would not be like that. But when seeing Moon... when imagining how it should have been..
| |
| − | | |
| − | Song came with the wine. He took it, and drank it with little ceremony, voicing only a reflexive thanks. "They gave us power to overcome it, Moon. To seek our revenge. To make a better world. Iron Tears told me how you saved the city. She gave you her blessing knowing that... and after you were Chosen... you saved the friends you could, right? When you made a new Pack... you made sure they would not be hurt like that ever again, right?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Well they gave it a little too fuckin' late!" He snarled back. "I didn't need a new Pack. Liked the one I fuckin' had. Guessin' you were fine with your family like it was too. Sheeyit..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He held up a hand, dripping with beer from the ruined glass, and licked it off his fingers. "They really gave a fuckin damn about changin anything, they woulda done somethin before we had ta loose everyone."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Before they had to watch them all die. It would have been a better world with White Dog still in it. With the old Pack still it. A growl rumbled in Moons throat and he dashed what remained of the mug aside. Glaring at the beer on his hands. Remembering the blood. "... what fuckin good is power when there aint shit left ya care enough ta protect with it?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' Alex had no answer to that. Yes, if the power had came just a little earlier... if he could have left with his father... saved Carina... saved his mother... if... tears begun to sting at his eyes again. For the third time in this conversation... a few droplets fell from his eyes. He mumbled a few things before saying anything coehrent. "The sun... when I was Chosen, he told me he had turned his face from this world. And now, he decided to turn his face back to us... that he chose us to bring his light back to the world."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He drank more of the wine. Things shook a little. He felt a little burning inside. "If... he had turned his face away... he would have chosen White Dog, Moon. I am sure of it. He would have."
| |
| − | | |
| − | More wine. "And you had... nothing left? Nothing left to protect?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' He nearly shouted at the prince. Nearly told him what a naive little shit he was. Told him how it didn't matter what happened to his family, he was still nothing but an ignoent piss-ant.
| |
| − | | |
| − | But he didn't.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon's jaw clenched until his teeth hurt and his neck strained. His finger nails dug into the flesh of his palms. At the edges of his bandaged chest, crimson began to seep into the stark white. But it was better than letting the rage out. Better than letting the tears out.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Because Alex was right. He would have. Moon knew he would have. Every clear memory of White Dog had been with the sun at the older boys back. With a glow in his eyes. If anyone should have gotten that power, it was him. He would have known what to do with it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Unlike some other stupid ass punks.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Barely." Moon rasped through his teeth, swallowing hard a moment and working his jaw until it popped. "Barely. Had Sarah... fuck all if I did much job keepin' her safe. And the Pack kids, the ones we'd taken in." Kids like Kinny, only just young and dumb enough not to take to the warehouse with them. Like Hannah, still crooked-toothed and cheerful. "Had ta keep them around. Make another Pack outta 'um." Because it had been better than being by himself.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' Moon seemed scary for a moment. But they still felt close. They still felt the same.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Alex heard his words, and knew Moon was making the same kind of effort he was. The effort not to let the tears out. He wished to help him with that But this was not the time. And not the place.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Sarah? Who is Sarah...?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' He hated feeling this way. Made him feel like one of those drunks weeping alone in an alley, bitter over how fucked up their lives had been. Made him feel pathetic.
| |
| − | | |
| − | But he wasnt alone. If Alex had given him sympathy, he would have growled at it. Understanding was something harder to know what to deal with.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Girl I knew for a long time... nother of those whores" He looked up quickly at the prince, as if daring him to say something about that. "Sweetest damn lil thing in the world." Flippant smile and soft laugh. Warm sigh in his ear. Perfume in the air. Sweet Sarah. Only person hed ever let call him Moonie and not beat down for it. "She thought the worlda me too."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon blew out a sigh and shook his head. "Red-haired bitch took her though. The Vestal. Fucker Shadow Eyes made sure she'd get nabbed while I wasnt around, so Id go after um both."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' Would the coincidences never end?<br>
| |
| − | Fiona, looking up at him, even when she was so much stronger.<br>
| |
| − | Fiona, taken by the Vestal. Done horrible things by her, for sure. Kanti wouldn't even tell him...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "''The Vestal said Fiona dreamed about you. ''", the Dark Angel had said.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And Sarah... "Shadow Eyes wanted you to go after her? He let... he let Sarah be taken so you would?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | "He is a monster."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Pain was being replaced by weight, slowly sinking the Lunar's shoulders. Sarah was something different than White Dog or the Pack. Made him feel different. But still not good.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "He think's shes his wife." Moon answered with a bland shrug, then a snort. "Should see how the creepy fuck shivers when he talks about her. Be damned if I'm gonna stick around ta see what happens when I finally get the bitch for him."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Sweet Hemlock: ''' ''The tale would be enough to stir emotion in the coldest of men. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | But he was not one of those, despite his shadowed profession. Sweet Hemlock had made certain he had held on to these precious feelings. The story, one of the many that made the Boil so very much alive, was as tragic as it was real.Things lost, things won, battles both physical and figuratives... It was things he could relate to, even though he was older now, with a respectable position... That nobody knew about.
| |
| − | | |
| − | He smiled despite himself. For all his gruff, kick in the door (and your ass) temperament, his brash behavior, his rudeness... He still liked the boy. Bastard had a heart of gold, and it was because of people like him that the Boil even held against such montrous oppression.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And he was with the young prince. Kadel's information was correct, once again, but that was hardly a surprise, after years of relying on the Glass Spider's network. He smiled again, closing his eyes for a moment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Allright, time to step in the light, if only for a moment. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Monster... This is the den of monsters, your highness. Monster and beasts and goblins and wraiths. And that's only counting the mortals - Welcome to the Boil."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He steps out of the shadows, praticed movement and grace only slightly hampered by middle-age. Dressed in blacks and reds, the blue spectacles resting on his nose, Sweet Hemlock leaves the shadows and slithers into the room, a warm smile on his face.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "So that's where you were hiding. I thought reminescing of the sort was the lot of old men like me, past their half-lives. Though I suppose you would after performing that big of a cleanup in this dirthole."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He crosses his arms, staring at the young gang member now praised by the Boil underworld. The street kid made antihero. "Just passed by to see how you were doing. I heard some sources saying you were dead, and I called in on the Glass Spider to confirm. Would have been a big, big shame.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Suddenly minding his manners, he bows his head to the young prince. Granting him a wicked smile.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Please don't mind me, Prince Alexander of Whiteshield. I'm just a fan of the boy."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "She..." ''She killed my mother... '' he thought. And even then... the more Moon talked, the more Alex imagined this horror. This wretched, insane thing. Part of him feared leaving the Vestal with him. Just because. Another part thought even she did not deserve it...
| |
| − | | |
| − | And then, the man showed up.
| |
| − | | |
| − | A flahs of golden light, and the blade was on his hand. The sacred blade of Whiteshield, Ainerach. He had not heard a step, he had not noticed a presence, until this person simply stepped out of the shadows.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And his reaction to such things now was always to try and destroy.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Who are you?!?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Hemlock." Moon growled in surprise. Annoyed at being surprised. He should have smelt the man coming. Annoyed too at the intrusion of a third party into the room. Song was one thing. She was familiar. This man...
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon's glare deepened as he regarded Hemlock. This man he didn't know. They'd only met once before, at Kadel's house. And the friendly attitude put Moon on edge immediately. You learned real damn fast to be wary of strangers who spoke in an easy manner. They were usually trying to gut you.
| |
| − | | |
| − | But what the hell would Hemlock do in a room of mad gods? Moon held a hand up towards Alex. "Its aite, man. His names Sweet Hemlock, far as anyone knows. Runs the cut throat guild 'round here. He helped alot, when shit started going bad here."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' The blade vanished. Alex sat a little easier. "An assassin?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | He looked the man, up and down. "You are an assassin?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Where is the black leather? The revealing costumes? The blades dripping with poison? The strange, flamboyant names?
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... you do not look like an assassin..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Sweet Hemlock: ''' He bows deeply to the young Lunar, then to the prince.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Now, your highness, you could call me names all day, but if you want to know, that was my trade, yes. And the fact you think I don't look the part is the best compliment I have heard in a decade. I would also love to be witty and say you do not look like a prince, but that would be a big, fat lie."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He inclines and raises up his hands, acknowledgeing the feel of suspicion he raises in the room. "I don't mean to disrupt anythng, gentlemen. Nor do I come here with harm on my mind. I only wanted to have a few words with you, Seventh Moon. Besides... If you so desired, I would be a puddle of tomato sauce on this expensive wallpaper in an instant. I'm only a puny old man."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He crosses his arms again, tapping his forehead, his expression slightly more serious now. "I suppose I should start by saying this, boy. The Boil is in shambles, everyone is working to assess what they've lost, and the internal structure is falling to pieces, but it looks like we'll finally make it. And you're to thank for this. You did well. It was a true treat to be on your side when all was going to hell."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Storm grey eyes burn with resolve and pride, burning themselves into Seventh Moon.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I guess what I'm trying to say is... Thank you, boy. On behalf of those who cannot come forth to say so themselves."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' Well, he ''did'' dress in black and red.<br>
| |
| − | That was something!<br>
| |
| − | But... well, he needed more. The glasses, the scholarly face... so different from the Dark Angel's sexy, dangerous mien. From the Iron Shades' way to blend into the shadows and move as steel birds... and he would not even get to Merun.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Why do you look so normal...?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | He asked, but his voice was forgotten during Hemlock's words with Moon. He did not wish to disturb, and instead only said a quiet "Pleased to meet you, Hemlock."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon listened with a growing itch behind ears as the older man spoke. Thanks was something he never got much of.<br>
| |
| − | Or expected.<br>
| |
| − | Or gave.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Yeah, well... good." Is the most Moon can think to offer in return to Hemlocks words. He shifted on the bed, uncertainty of the niceties that followed in moments like this. "Howd your people pull through?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Sweet Hemlock: ''' He responds to the Prince's polite affirmation with a bow of his own, and a genuine greting, this time. "The pleasure is all mine, Prince Alexander of Whiteshield."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "They got through all right, all things considered." He sighs for a moment, for all those that were taken down, unevitable toll for people at war. And, even more uneasy thought, that he was actually glad the people close to him actually made it all right.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "We mourn just like everyone else. The murmur has lost many people to, and it's always something that's hard to deal with. My boys and girls are good though. And they are headstrong as all hells. They grew here in the streets, so they'll manage. Survival is not a luxury here - they'll be fine, in the end."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He takes a moment to nod, trying to defuse some pressure from the somewhat... solemn environment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It's tough for everyone. There's a crapload of rebuilding and everything to take care of. Everybody is depressed and gloomy and down in the dumps. But hey, thanks to those that fought, we have a freakin' place to rebuild. There is people left ot be gloomy and mopey and generally disagreeable."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But hey, that's the place for you. If it's not waking up the morning grumpy and hurting everywhere after having a bunch of drinks and fighting all night -- then it's the frickin' Realm. The city's in a large scale hangover right now. But it will pass."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Yeah, thats somethin', aint it?" Moon grinned grimly at the comparison, wiping the still damp beer off onto his pants. Comforted... no. But then he'd never been depressed about what they'd done. Shit as it was, to see the city broken up, it was still a city. That had never left him. The past was a more haunting thing, because there wasnt anything you could do about it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | They were talking about the present though. About the city now, not how it had been, however much the two were intertwined. "Did what had ta do, y'know? What we tried ta do. Sheeyit" Moon looked out the window for the first time in a while, at the smoke and ruin. "This shit-holes been through worse"
| |
| − | | |
| − | He was old enough to remember the riots, the fires, the anarchists the Garrison marching through the streets and cutting down or arresting everyone who didnt clear out. And if he was, Hemlock had to have been. "This aint nothin we aint done ta ourselves before, yknow? What fucked it up was that someone else tried ta do it to us." He grinned, tight and defiant. "Boil dont stand for that shit."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' The prince's hand came to his face, and he smiled in amused happyness, watching the talk..
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I wonder if it will all be like the Boil."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''I hope so... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But... we will have to do something about this name."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Sweet Hemlock: ''' The spark, that glint in the Lunar's eyes mirrors in those of the older man. They had exchanged, with so few words, what it meant to them. How important it was to them to save thie pile of mud and smoke and iron that was their home. And he can only join in the devilish grin that lights up his face.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Damn right, boy. This war, the fires from back then... It's all the same. This city gets kicked in the nuts time after time after time. But you know, the goal of this game is not who gets to kick the first. It's about who stands ''last''. And you better wake up early to win at this game against this here town."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He too, gazes outside the window, and the sight is not very pretty. But somehow, he cannot help but grin with Seventh Moon at the blasted landscape below them. When it came down to that, he always remembered the words first spoken by a certain fortune-telling friend of his.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''In the end, when all this continent has benn blasted to pieces, all's that's going to be left are rats, and the dirty denizens of this blasted town. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | He turns his focus to the young Prince, suddenly aware that he was forgetting him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Name?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "If this is to be the last time the city is hurt, if I am to try to lift the city from that ''dirt''" He points at the window, and it clearly means not just what it is like right now, "I will sure as hell be helping a place other than 'The Boil'. You are already proud. But we have to change ''what'' you are proud of."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "The fuck's wrong with the name?" Moon demanded, the glare he leveled at the prince anything but serious. "Ya call Whiteshield Whiteshield cause the place gleams and shit. Boils the Boil for a reason, y'know?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Sides man..." He glanced out the window again. At the dragon still slumped into the industrial district. At the dots that were people moving around. Getting their lives back together. At the curls of smoke rising from fouderies that had refused to go out even while war raged around them. They got kicked in the nuts, just like the old man said. And they were still standing. "After the shit we went through, sayin ya from the Boils somethin ta be fuckin proud of."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Sweet Hemlock: ''' He cannot help but chuckle at the exchange between the two Exalts, his gaze still set on the scenery that displays through the window. "Hey, it's not my place to be saying yes or no. I'm just a little man in the big town, after all. But I kind of like this name. It stuck for so long, that I think even if it was changed, I'd still be calling it the Boil."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Besides," he continues, an amused look on his face, "I suppose it also gives straight facts to tourists. Like that, they know they're going to get Coal and Iron and foundries and dirt. Wouldn't want a loving couple from Great Forks coming here on vacation and having to break the news that it's not exactly an exotic beach doubling as a health resort."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Coal, and Iron, and foundries, yes."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But not dirt. And who knows, maybe they will be met with something quite like that. There must be more to the city than that."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "If not, there will be when we have finished."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He shrugs, "But, well, we will see about the name. But if you want a finer world..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: '''"Same here man, same here..." he nodded to Hemlock. Kinda funny, but he was starting to find he liked the man pretty quick. Back at Kadels, he hadnt been interesting in getting to know any of the lieutenants, just in making them come along. Might have been better if he had. Could have spotted Barr for the ass he was sooner. And might have know he could count on Hemlock a little more.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Finer world, huh?" Moon echoed dubiously. "Morea that shit, huh? Whatever gets ya off man." Rounding on Alex, he thrust a finger at the prince. "But ya gotta get through some serious shit if ya think ya can just stride in and change the name of this town."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Alright, alright..." He places his arms in front of himself, in peace and defense.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''I will leave '''that''' for when it is not possibly a Boil anymore. ''<br>
| |
| − | ''The iron heart of my land will not be a Boil upon the North. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Do you want me to leave?" He says, stretching the wings a bit. "You criminals certainly have too many things to talk about that would not sound right if heard for a innocent and spoiled prince, right?" He said criminals sarcasically. He felt like he knew more of the world already.
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Don't matter none ta me man," he looked over at Hemlock for what the elder man wanted. Hadn't occurred to him until the prince had said it, but despite the introduction, the assassin chief probably came here for some reason other than thanking him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Sweet Hemlock: ''' He smiles at Moon's comments, then is a bit taken aback by the Prince's comments. He raises an eyebrow, and the smile returns to his lips.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Did we offend you, majesty? If you're referring to me, I don't think you're what you just said. You just proved the prince has got claws, right? And that's good. I like that. How do they say that again... 'The Sly eagle hides his claws'?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Besides, if anybody has got to leave here, that would be me. I merely passed by to pass a few words to Moon, and the opportunity to meet the crown prince was also too good to pass. I hope we haven't hurt your feelings with our patriotic prattling. Besides, you already know the type of business I operate, so no, you're not seen as a threat here, obviously. You also fought, and you deserve your share of thanks."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He nods to Moon, his hand securing the band keeping his ponytail in place. "Right. I thought I'd make it official, Seventh Moon. There's not much of an underworld left in here, but there's still some. And well... I speak for my boys and girls here. Should you ever need anything... The murmur will stand by your side. We'll help out in the little ways we do. Debt of honor for helping us keep our turf and our home, and in some cases, our families."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "No need to go, really. And you have not offended me. In fact, only pleased me, Thank you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He gets comfortable again, "The 'patriotic prattle' is understandable. But after what I heard today... I will change this. I am sorry, Moon. But I will. I may not be a White Dog. I may just be a spoiled, naive boy with too much repressed on his chest... but what you told me today will end. Every part of it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''And when it is done, it will not be the Boil anymore. But I put my carriage ahead of the horses with you two. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Of course, I might die trying. Like happened to my betters..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''But no man. ''<br>
| |
| − | ''God. ''<br>
| |
| − | ''Or Chosen. ''<br>
| |
| − | ''Will stand in my way. ''
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon listened to Alex talk with a deepening glower. More pipe dreams. More bullshit same sort of bullshit White Dog would spout. No, Alex wasnt White Dog. He talked like White Dog. Something about him even looked like White Dog. The glow in their eyes. But they werent alike. White Dog was a punk with big dreams. Dreams he died before he could carry out. Dreams he might not have been able to carry out even if he lived.
| |
| − | | |
| − | But White Dog was just a punk, who should have been more. Alex was something else. Seventh Moon was too.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Maybe it was time to start acting like it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Anything, huh?" The Lunar asked Hemlock, sitting up higher on his bed. He looked at the older man for a moment, cold eyes piercing through whatever layers of wordy crap had been in Hemlocks speech until he got at scent of truth behind it. The same look turned to Alex, growing harder as he stared at the prince. "And ya really mean that? Ya really think ya pull off all that bullshit ya keep talkin about?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Sweet Hemlock: ''' He smiles at the Lunar's intervention, gazing back at him as if in challenge. "Anything. The Murmur would not be there anymore if it wasn't for your warning call, so we owe it all to you. I might be a murderous bastard, but at least I'm a murderous bastard that keeps his word. I won't end up like that poor pathetic dummy Barr, Seventh Moon. I won't spit on my allies and alienate everyone around me. I won't die having betrayed so many people nobody will be left to mourn me."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Besides," he continues, adjusting the tinted lenses on the bridge of his nose, "I sure as hell would not have been crazy enough to slip in here personally to lie to you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "And as for you, young Prince..." He looks at him appraisingly, his smile never vanishing his lips. "If you mean what you say, and you have the guts and the spine to back it up, then I say good. That means the end of people like me, but people like me are born out of necessity."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I'm not so stricken with hubris that I would think of having a better life for the people here as bad."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Yes. I do."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "There was an army on Winlandia's countryside, Moon. We brought them down. Me, the Pale Angel and the Windwraith, alone."<br>
| |
| − | "A Moon-touched like you, a frog, held a place of powerful gods hostage. We let freed them, and beat him."<br>
| |
| − | "Two beings held the Pale Angel, near her death, and we stopped them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He says it matter-of-factly - he is not gloating.
| |
| − | Well... just a ''bit''.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I have not failed yet, Moon. And what I intend to do now, is make sure nobody else suffers what you did. That children do not starve. Iria will be under '''my''' orders, Moon. And I will visit often. And I will not have any balls if it means children will starve. I will not do any celebrations if it means women will have to sell their love. I will not stand by while young people live short lives of violence."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He says, and the sun shines with him as he says that. The day becomes a little less cloudy.
| |
| − | | |
| − | He looks at Hemlock, and smiles, "Pehaps assassins will still be used. But in a few years, you better hope you hide even better than you already do. But, hey. You look like a Librarian anyway!”
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Wanted ta hear it, out of both of ya." He answered them with a nod, but his gaze was locked on the prince, speaking evenly and spoke bluntly. Not accusatory, but honest. "Can talk all ya want bout the shit youve done I aint been around ta see. Dont mean a fuckin thing ta me man. Seen plenty of asshole who turn up, talkin about all the people theyve fucked over, women theyve fucked aint one yet didnt turn out ta be just another bullshit artist."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''And I aint gonna be left standin on the wall alone again. One dead dreams enough. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I aint gonna believe shit till I see ya do it." From prince, to assassin, and back again, Moon looked around the room. The assassin whod just promised him anything, who probably didnt realize how much everything really was. The prince whod promised to fix the city, to change the world, who couldnt possibly knew what he was getting into. And between them, a punk whod be damned before he believed in what even he was going to ask them to do.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Fuck hed done more with less.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "So lets get ta work."
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | ----
| |
| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FifthMovement|Fifth Movement]]
| |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |
