GoldenCat/ColdTruthsSearingLies

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Cold Truth, Searing Lies

Alexander: Kanti had healed Moon. Enough for him to speak... almost well, and to get up some. But he still felt it, gnawing at his insides. The power... the void... the lamenting souls he had eaten. Red Sparrow Song is there, waiting. Taking care of him as she can. And then, her breath gets... heavier. Sunlight becomes a little clearer.

The prince was in the room.

He waves to them both, asking Song for some juice of any fruit they might have... and failing that, some honeyed wine, as he watches Moon.

It takes a little while before he finally speaks.

"That thing really hurt you, didn't it?"

"We saw it all the way from the Industrial. A wonder you did it by yourself..."

Seventh Moon: "Didnt do it alone" he answered with finality, grinning somewhat just the same. "And I've had worse..."

On his back on the bed, arms propped behind his head, Moon stared at the ceiling rather than the prince. Bandages still engulfed his torso and caved inward slightly in a way they shouldn't have across his chest. The kid had healed him somewhat, but it was a long way to go.

"You hear ta say somethin or just gonna shoot the shit awhile?"

Alexander: Alex smiles, a little bit embarassed. "Well, I came to say... many things. I am just not sure how to say them now. Know how that is?" A hand goes behind his neck, "The talk with Kanti did not help, either..."

"But, um... I wondered how you felt, to begin with. Not with the wounds, but... with all this. This was your home, right? I was flying above it before.... kept imagining how beautiful things might have been before it was all... torched."

"I know I would" will "hate to see my home like this..."

Seventh Moon: Beautiful?

Moon turned his face towards the prince, looking for the punch line to end the joke. When it didn't come, it made Moon's laugh all the louder.

Loud, rough, and inappropriately merry. Honestly amused, but with a thread of strain running under it all. It was a rather desperate laugh.

Alexander: "What?" The prince looks at him, suddenly even more embarassed, searching his words to find which ones might have been in error... and not finding it. "Did I say anything wrong? Do you find something amusing about the dead torching your city, twisting a place of Whiteshield beyond recognition?"

Seventh Moon: The laughter died down slowly, but Moon was still smirking as it did, small fangs glinting from the edge of lips. "Naw. Just about someone thinkin' the Boil woulda looked any better if they hadn't."

Shifting slightly, Moon pushed himself slowly upwards with his legs until his back rested against the headboard. Moving up himself up to eye level with Alex. "Dont know shit about your city man, aside from its where all the rich bitches who slum in the Red Lantern come from, but mine? Aint gonna say its a fuckin improvement burnt down, but it sure as hell didnt make look any worse."

Alexander: The information takes a little while to proccess on his mind.

"But... but... this foul air? The ashes and iron in the clouds? The... the ugly houses? The narrow streets? Surely this was the dead twisting and breaking the very essence of your city, right?"

He says, looking for it on Moon's eyes... "This is Whiteshield. Such... dirty things, should not exist on it. I always heard of the Boil, of the Gears, of Iron Tears, of the noble workers risking their lives in the forges, singing for Fire and Iron to help them..."

His face reddens a bit, "Well, and I was told of the Lover once or twice..."

Seventh Moon: "You ain't never been here before, have ya?" The smile was gone from the Lunar's face, his eyes staring into the princes straight on. "First time you ever really seen how the other half lives 'n shit, ain't it?"

Alexander: He looks at Moon... and flinches, part of him scared. But he cannot yet tell of what...

"N-no, no... I have never been here before! I have seen workers in Whiteshield, though! My father took me to trips through the close countryside sometimes! Simple people, with nice farms, but living healthy, protected..."

Seventh Moon: "Tch," Moon sneered, cutting off the prince. There was judgment in his eyes, hard and cold. The thoughts behind them were plain, Moon made no effort to mask them.

This was it? This was what theyd been fighting to restore? This was what people had died for? Were dying for? Fuck no. It wasnt going down like that.

"You bothered ta take a trip through here yet?" Moon demanded. "You even bothered ta talk to anyone who wasn't a fuckin' god or some other fucked up thing? Look for ya self? Seen for ya self?" The Lunar tilted his head to one side. "Or you just let everyone else tell ya what the fuck ta think?"

Alexander: "No, I did not!" He says, reacting violently to... something.

"And I talked to many people, none of them 'fucked up'! All the people at parties, at my home, with the others families, the workers... I was friend with all our servants, Moon! My father encouraged it! He always told me we should not be like some of the nobles who treated people as inferiors! That I should respect them for their services! Treat them well!"

"And that I always should think for myself." He says, gazing defiantly towards Moon.

Seventh Moon: "Thats real fuckin' nice. Nice that ya talked ta the people who worked for ya all the fuckin' way over at Whiteshield. What about here? " Moon reached over suddenly and grabbed the curtain covering the window near his bed, ripping it back. "Does that look like a fuckin farm out there?"

There was reason they had kept the window closed. Poised on the edge of the hillside, the room theyd placed Moon in faced out towards the city, in all its splendorous ruin. There was smoke haze and still-open fires burning. Buildings half-crumbled and blackened, like jagged teeth. From this angle, the streets wove through the city like thin gray veins, littered still with the refuse of a million broken lives. And in the distance, the body of the great dragon of earth formed a lump against the skyline, like the ground had suddenly split open and pushed another hill up overnight.

Moon glared back at the prince. "You gotta stop livin' in a fuckin' dream. Someone painted ya real pretty picture of the world ta hide how full of a shit it was."

Alexander: He looks. And he knows.

He knows it could not have been changed overnight. That, even whole, that is how they should look...

Those narrow streets.
Those ruined blocks of houses.
Those poor, gray-dressed people.

"It was Amaranth's... it was my uncle's fault, I am sure. He must have made the Boil into this, after my father let him rule it..."

Yes. It must have been Amaranth. He is evil. A bastard. He had to!

"There is no reason my father would let this continue, Moon!"

Seventh Moon: "Bullshit."

Moon dropped his hand, leaving the curtain open, leaning back onto the bed. "Sheriff was an ass and a half, but it was Whiteshield that supported him."

"You really think your dad didnt know what the fuck this place was like? Think he was so stupid he didnt know where the fuck his own money came from? What the fuck you think paid for all those parties? Paid for the clothes ya wearin, the food ya ate. You think the money for your posh lil life just rained from the sky? " The Lunar tipped his head back towards the window. "Look out there, man. Thats your families fuckin legacy."

Alexander: He was across the room. He caught Moon by his shirt, snarling. Song was already back with the juice, but it fell to the ground as she yelped at the sight. Alex burning with white flame, tears stinging his eyes.

"Shut up! What do you know? What do you know of my family? What do you know?!?"

"Why don't you go and piss on their graves, you, you, you..." He snarls. Nothing appropriate comes.

Seventh Moon: And Moon didnt flinch. He didnt drop his eyes or look away. He met Alex's tearful gaze and answered it with... ice.

Loosing your family was for shit. Moon knew. Hed watched all of his kicking their lives out at the end of a rope. Twice. Hed seen the gutted in a dark alley. Seen them drink themselves into an obvious death. Seen them wander off laughing into the night, then never seen them again.

Moon understood exactly what Alex was going through. Moons family hadnt been good people in the way most might have thought about it and he didnt try to make excuses for them either. He wouldnt have stood for someone bad mouthing them. But putting them down and speaking truth on what theyd done were two different things. Being dead sure as fuck didnt excuse your sins though.

And being a prince didnt save your punk ass from getting slapped around when you asked for it, either.

"That hand ain't off me in two seconds man," he said softly, a crisp silvery light stirring into the air in answer to the white flames licking out from Alexs form. "Somethin' bad is gonna happen."

Alexander: For a moment, he held even tighter to the shirt....

Then let go, letting Moon fall. Moving to the window. Watching the Boil...

"You don't know them." He says, his words breaking into a more formal speech in the middle of the tears. "They did good. For everyone around them. For the whole kingdom. They did... so much good..."

Seventh Moon: Moon calmly brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt, the light in the air around him flickering away. "And they did bad shit too. Maybe they did bad shit for good reasons. Maybe they did it cause they were all a buncha rich fucks who didn't care who they fucked over ta stay rich."

"Be honest," Moon shrugged, looking back out the window a moment too, starring at what was left of his city. "I couldnt give a flyin fuck either way. My family did bad shit too. Smaller scale, but fucked over is fucked over, if its one person or a whole fuckin city. They're dead now, so it doesn't matter for shit."

He turned back to Alex sharply, the bed creaking under him as he leaned forward inently. "Matters now is what the fuck you're gonna do."

Alexander: "...."

He does not continue the trend about his family. He will not even go there.

What I am going to do...?

"Do you want to know what I am going to do, Moon?"

"I am going to cleanse Whiteshield of the dead. I am going to carve a new home for myself, and for Cedric. I am going to save Carina. I am going to rebuild Whiteshield, like the light it was. I am going to make the Boil be rebuilt the same way. Beautiful. Rich. Full of light. And honor. And nobility. I will make sure that no people like Amaranth get in charge of places, ever again." Song is on her knees on the ground. And the words both man and boy speak do not allow her to even flinch. "I am going to save Whiteshield, and make this a finer world. To get everyone together. To redeem the Angels. To try to make our world a finer world."

He turns back, not as hopeful as one might expect, more drained than anything. "Yes, that is what I am going to do."

"Will you be with me?"

Seventh Moon: The Lunar stared at Alex in silence a moment, then slowly shifted away. Tilting his head back, he looked up at the ceiling. "I wanted ta hear reality man, not that bullshit. Sounds like shitty pipe dream. Another pretty picture. Fix this. Change that. Same sort of crap White Dog use to go on about. All it got him was dead..."

Alexander: "That is reality, Moon. We are going to march, and crush each and every one of them. We are going to rebuild. We are going to give people a better life. I will do it, or die trying." He says, still not even hopeful, but determined, steel in his eyes. "You sound just like the Pale Angel. It is like all of you had hope crushed out of you. Like you don't even know how to dream, how to believe."

"But tell me... who is White Dog?"

Seventh Moon: "You wanna know about White Dog? I'll tell ya all about him man..."

And then maybe you can understand why the fuck we dont dream anymore

Moon closed his eyes and for a moment, his expression softened, like a man trying not so smile. "White Dog ran the Pack before me. Was in charge when I was just a pup beggin' on them for scraps. Proud fucker. Red haired, one eye been on the street forever and knew how shit worked."

"He was like you. Thought if he believed in shit enough, he could make it happen. Thought the gangs had enough sway ta change the city. Make the place clean. Wanted ta stop the turf wars 'n shit, bring everyone together. Talked some others into seein shit his way too. The Pack, couple other gangs me"

Alexander: Wonder begins to fill Alexander's eyes, even though he should know it will end badly.

He turns around, leaning on the window. Smiling. The picture in his mind, of White Dog, was nothing short of epical. "Bring... gangs together? To not be gangs, right? To make it so you would all do something decent? Wow..." His smile was genuine. Making punks, making criminals, an army to make things good and clean...

Seventh Moon: "Wow..." Moon agreed in half-hearted sarcasm. "Should heard the way he'd use to go on about it. Seen the way he'd treat everyone. Made ya believe he could do all the shit he'd talk about. Stuff he did"

Pain. Blood. The sort of sharp agony only a bloody nose and a scrapped knee could give. Down in the dirt. On the ground. The young girl behind him, clutching his back. Tears in her eyes. Tears in his, for something else.

Hed tried to save her. Tried his best. But the other boys had been so much bigger theyd beat him down, until the gangs had come. Now the brief violence of that fight was ending, the big Pack boys and members of other gangs who watched this turf hurling insults as the other punks ran back for the Ash.

Figure before the sun. Shadow taller than the clocktower. Hair blazing like the sun was actually burning inside him instead of behind him. Teeth flashing in a brilliant grin, leaning down to ruffle hair, to wipe tears, to grab a hand and haul him back to his feet. "Hey kid, don't worry about it, 'aite? Tryins what matters. Had a few more with your spirit, this shit would be a cake walk. Ya did good kid. Did good."

Moon drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, tightening his jaw a moment before speaking again. "White Dog had dreams. Gave um to everyone he could. Made a lotta people believe um too."

Alexander: "Stuff he did? Like what? Like what?" He smiled. Seeing it inside Moon. Understanding.

"He was a good man, Moon."

Seventh Moon: "No," Moon answered and the emotion flattened in his voice. "He was a dumb fucker who made too much noise and got his ass dead for it. The Garrison killed him, cause he was street trash like the rest of us and street trash ain't worth a crap."

His eyes opened, looking hard but tiredly at the prince. "Dreams are for shit man. Ya do whatcha gotta do every day ta get by. Ya burn half the fuckin' city down ta make sure at least the other half goes on. Thats all that matters."

Alexander: Cause he was street trash like the rest of us and street trash ain't worth crap.

Alex had to admit that, when he got Moon by the shirt, he almost called him. Trash. Uneducated. Dirty. Lowlife.

It was easy, was it not? Too easy... "I am sorry, Moon."

"I am sorry. We should have been here sooner."

"There had to be a better way to win. We should have won in a better way. White dog was right, you know. He was right." He turned to Song, and waved her out of her trance, to clean the floor and get the drinks for real now. "Many heroes die. I know... you did not like him. But my father died with the blade in hand. Keeping that creature. The black statue, from that day, away. Away from his people. Away from his children. Those people... they are our examples, Moon..."

But that would not go through, would it?
Moon's world...
Moon's life...

"What was it like? Your life? Here? How did Luna look upon you...?"

Seventh Moon: Moon snorted softly in answer to the princes speech, looking down at the bed in front of him with narrowed eyes. "Some shit just dont work that way."

And I seen one dream I believed in die once already. Thats one fuckin dream too many

The next question Alex asked caught him a bit off guard. Tipping his head, Moon shot him a way glance, suspicious just on the oddity of it. "Whatcha wanna know for?"

Alexander: "I am here. I have seen it."

He walks up to the wall again, looking at the desolation...

"Want me to learn how the life is? Tell me, then. Tell me yours'. Tell me what it is like to live in the trash. Tell me why you are a Chosen, and still dress like that."

"Tell me all I do not know."

Seventh Moon: The suspicion in Moon's expression wore away gradually, turning into a fangfull smirk as Alex punctuated his request with the last sentence. "Seems like thats gonna take a long fuckin' time."

Alexander: The prince turns around, leaning against the wall, meeting Moon's smirk with his own.

"I am still young. I have aaaaallll the time in Creation."

Seventh Moon: "A'ite." Moon nodded and turned on the bed, kicking his bare legs off the edge and leaning onto his knees, taking a moment to figure out just what to say. No one had ever asked him before. Was a waste of time. You couldn't understand what it was like on the streets just hearing it second hand and if you knew one punks story, you probably knew them all.

But somehow, Alex made him want to talk about it anyway. Maybe it was just because might just feel good to jabber. Maybe because it might sound bad enough to make Alex actually pull through on some of that bullshit he was throwing around. Either way, wasnt like he had anything else to do

"My mom was a whore and fuck all if I know who my dad was. Figure on as much he was someone like me. Moon Chosen whatever, yknow?" He tapped a finger against his forehead. "Either way, never met him and didnt know my mom for shit. Died from some plague or another when I was lil."

Moon paused for a moment and blinked, looking over at his beat up boots sitting near by. He use to keep a strand of her hair, in those. Lucky charm. Keep sake. Whatever. Hadnt checked to see it was there in a long time though

Alexander: Alex walked back to the couches, just as Song came back with the juices, at long last. Some grape juice for the prince, and beer for Moon. Alex sat... and heard. "Like you? So you had any marks of his power?"

"Whore or not... she probably cared much for you, did she not?"

All parents do...

"So you grew up in that world? Among... whores?"

He could not hide he was not a bit thrilled to hear about that. Possibly only part of that world with some glamour.

Seventh Moon: "Yeah, kinda." Moon reached out to take the beer from Song and flashing her a quick grin as thanks. "Didn't know it then though. Too young ta know about that shit. Seen some dragon-blooded here and there, from far away. Knew what Anathema were, but had never seen one. Just figured I was born with good ears and shit, y'know?"

That actually made Moon think again, as he took a sip of the warm beer. Would it be the same for whatever brats he sired? Fuck, he hoped not

"Hey," Moon looked up, glaring at the tone in the princes voice. "They ain't bad ladies. What the fuck is it with you people thatcha think what the girls do ta get by makes 'um somethin' you can look down on? Opal tried ta pull that shit too. You ever met one? Talked ta one?"

Alexander: "No... I did not!" He says, hands in front of him, apologetically. "I used to hear talks about nobles keeping a whore or another, or that some of our servants used to be... and there was a friend of mine... Dorian... who had a whore paid by his father to... you know. I did not say they were bad people, though. If anything, I feel bad for them, Moon."

"Selling your love away cannot be a happy life..."

"... and I just wonder how it was, to live among them."

Because I am curious.
I am a pervert, right?
I must be, wanting detail on that...

He grimaces, slightly.

Seventh Moon: The glare didn't exactly fade, but it was more a set look than hostile. Moon sipped the beer again.

"Nice. Nicer 'bout the time I was your age." He added with a feral grin. Thinking back about his childhood meant he had to pass other memories on the way. Those stories could come later. When he was a lot more drunk.

"Red Lantern was a better place ta live than most others I coulda ended up. Fuck all better than the Ash. Cleaner. Easier ta get hand outs too. Workin girls got a kick outta gang-kids like me. Theyd sneak shit out to us through windows n back doors. Food, clothes Not always though. Still pretty fuckin lean sometimes. Winter was worst man. Were lucky if ya could steal food then, cause fuck if anyone had anything ta spare"

It had been winter, the first time he ever mugged somebody. Another gang boy his age, one whod attached himself to the Ropers instead of the Pack. Kid had somehow gotten damn near a whole loaf of bread, probably stole it. Moon hadnt eaten in a week. Hed beat the other boys head open against a wall and left him in the snow. Kid probably died there

That wasnt a story he wanted to talk about sober either.

Alexander: Alex shivered drowning the feeling in the glass. It did not have ice. None of the enchanted bags of air here..

He was not on Whiteshield. "They would sneak? You lived on the street? Depending on their charity even for clothes?"

"Winter. Resplendent Air... Resplendent Water..." He looked out of the window. Clear white sky. It could snow at any moment... "Now, you mean. People are feeling that, right now."

Seventh Moon: "On the streets. Under 'um. On roofs... if ya were lucky, one of the girls would sneak ya into an unused bedroom for a night. If ya werent, ya found enough other kids ya figured ya could trust not ta gut your ass and all piled up together on the side of the road." Those were rough memories too but those needed to be shared. "Sometimes, yad wake up and find out that someone in the pile had frozen to death over night anyway. So then yad steal their shoes and dump um in a barrel if ya didnt like them or else carry um ta the glue-houses for a skin burry.

"Yeah, maybe." Moon agreed, looking out the window too. No snow yet. Probably too cold for it. Soon enough though, streets would be full of the shit. A nice, dirty-white blanket to cover all the corpses. "Some people starve all year 'round though. Find 'um sometimes in abandoned buildings or stuffed inta alleys in the Ash. Nothin' but rotten rodent-chewed skin and bones."

He glanced towards Alex again, looking for the impact that might have had. Pretty easy to guess the people didn't tend to starve and die unnoticed in alleys over in his city.

Alexander: He looked to the window. He seemed ready to rush out of it, and begin picking people, to bring back there and, and...

... and even he knew they had barely enough to feed themselves.

He held the arms of the chair. He broke them, his fingers digging deep with unearthly strength. A tear.

People... live like that.. like things... freezing on the street.
Like animals, sleeping together not to freeze...
Like insects, skin and bones feeding on scraps...

He seemed about to be sick.

"A... skin bury?" Is all he asked.

Seventh Moon: Moon watched the princes fingers clench, his knuckles go white, the wood bellow his hands crunch and shatter. But Alex stayed.

Good. Moon settled back before he really realized he had tensed, taking another sip of beer, half the glass gone already. Alex had a heart, made him alright by Moon. Kid needed a bit more sense ground into him before Moon was going to let him do jack shit with the Boil though.

"Thats whatcha did for friends. And if ya were a good friend, whatcha told the others ta do with you if ya died. Glue-houses would take the bones and give ya the rest in lil wooden box, plus a few pity coins. Then ya'd sneak into the Wailing Grounds, the street kids graveyard," he gestured with the mug out the window, towards the hill across from them, even though there was no way to see the Wailing Grounds from here. "And burry the box, before ya went and used the money ta buy food or somethin'."

Alexander: His right hand went to his face, brow furrowed. "... I think I am going to be sick."

The world was beautiful. It was a place of farmers, happy with their lot. A world of nobles, in every sense of the world, ruling justly over the commoners. Of crafters, of great skill, making clothes and toys and utensils. Of hard miners and factory workers, brave men who sing work songs, sweat in their strong bodies. A world of balls, of banquets. of innocence, of romance.

Playing with his cousins and friends and children of the servants in the hedge maze.
Practicing swordsmanship with Otieno, to protect his subjects.
Kissing a beautiful cousin in a gazebo, far away from a party.
Hidden with friends in another party, discussing what they knew of girls.
Trying to stop Cedric.
Going out with Elizabeth.
Watching out for Carina...

That is the world

The world is a lie.

"... I do not even want to know what they did with the bones..."

Seventh Moon: Moon nearly told him anyway, but stopped himself. He was trying to make a point, to open Alex's eyes. Not to crush him completely and make him vomit on the floor.

"Shit gets better when ya get older." Moon went on, pretending not to have heard the comments at all. Speaking mostly to give Alex something else to focus on. "If ya can muscle enough ta get into a gang. Or you're just pretty enough." The Lunar grinned somewhat, leaving it up for the prince to conclude just how Seventh Moon had gotten into his gang.

"Got inta mine pretty young. Guess I was lucky that way. Half-breeds like me usually are though. We survive easier, so we look like a better bet than some of the other kids. Sides, White Dog had really liked me"

A big grin, a calloused hand ruffling his hair again. A handsome, open face high above his beaming down. Proud. Like a father with a son. Like a brother. "Kids got heart man. The magics nice, but wouldnt care shit about it if he didnt have heart."

"Gang life is good life, compared ta most. You were colors, most people dont give ya shit no more. Ya get respected or ya get feared, but they know ta take a step outta your way."

Alexander: "So, White Dog was the one who brought you into that...?" The mention of the hero's name brightened Alexander somewhat. But he still felt awful. That life is so horrible for children did not help that any. "That was... the 'pack' right? And what does a gang do? Hold a territory? Keep people there safe?"

Seventh Moon: "Depends on the gang," Moon shrugged. "In a perfect world? Fuck, even just in Simmas world? Yeah, thats what all of 'um do. Gangs do it better than the Garrison, cause the gangs know the people in the neighborhood. They don't just stomp in and snatch up the ones makin' the most noise. Most of us grew up in the places we haunt. Were dealin with the same people who use ta toss us coins or sweets when they could spare, yknow? We take care of um, keep fuckers from messin with people on our turf. Then they take carea us. Keep us fed, give us a bed, all that shit."

Even before he said it though, the look on Moons face made it clear how imperfect it really was. "Like I said though, depends on the gang. Lot of um are just a buncha violent fucks, wanderin around making trouble. Muggin, rapin, all that shit. So the rest of us get punished for it"

It looked like some strange twenty legged creature from where he was. Something with a thin spin and too many twitching legs. But even from up on the wall, he could see the ember of bright red hair, swinging on the rope

Moon sipped his beer again and add quietly. "Get punished pretty fuckin bad."

Alexander: "By the Captain, right?"

"Iria is famous for taming the Boil... they say it was all chaos and criminals before she came... that my uncle was powerless to stop it..."

Only now he was thinking straight, and remembering. Of course, now he also thought it was probably Amaranth's fault as well...

"That is what happened to White Dog? Killed by the good people as just another criminal...?"

It hurt, to think so.
That a hero could end up... like that...

Seventh Moon: "Iria's a bitch!" Moon snapped back venomously. She might have done good in the rebellion. They might have been desperate for her help even. But that was over. This was now. And talking about the past only made him remember why he hated that woman in the first place. "Her and her fuckin' Cleaning Season. Had been bad enough when it was the Patrol doin' it, but least they knew fuckin' street politics enough ta leave some people alone. That bitch just sent people in and grabbed "gangs." Did know or care which. Fuck, sometimes they didnt even grab punks, just street people. More bodies they could burry, the better it looked buncha fuckin bastards"

Moon was breathing hard as he finished, his eyes burning and unclear. Not drunk, but it felt close. Like his body couldnt decide to be angry or sad so it was just hot and dizzy instead. He tilted back his head a moment, draining the rest of his beer in several swallows. "Yeah, they killed him. Killed him and Ring and damn near every other stupid fuck who thought they were out changin shit. Who thought the Garrison would do like the Patrol and leave um alone."

Nearly everyone he had known. Absolutely everyone he had looked up to. Gone. In one single day, grabbed and hung and buried. That was when Shadow Eyes had come to him. That was when shit started to go weird and go wrong

Alexander: "I fought with Iria... she was... heavenly, Moon...."

"She must have thought she was doing the right thing..."

Too many shades of grey. Too easy not to care, for some, he supposed...
And what hurt the most, was that White Dog died, like that.
Was that a hero died, like a common criminal, never remembered.
Alexander knew he could die. He liked to think he was ready for it. And that Valencia,
Vorpal and the others would grieve... but to die like that...

He held back tears, barely. Hiccuped a bit.

"What happened then? After you lost friends?"

You were just like me...

"... no. They were your family too, right?"

"And they told you they were just common criminals, just like you spoke of my parents, right?"

It was harder to hold the tears.

Seventh Moon: "Family." Moon agreed in a low rasp. Maybe he was a little drunk. The floor under him looked a little blurry. His eyes felt like they were burning. And what Alex was saying actually made sense. "Said they were shit. Said theyd done shit White Dog woulda never done. Fuckers had no idea who they grabbed or what they were even talkin about.Strung um all up out there on the field. Tossed um all on a pile like fuckin shovels of coal, then pushed um all into a hole in the ground"

The Lunar looked up into Alexs eyes and suddenly knew what he himself looked like just then. Or at least how he had looked, ten years ago. Sadness, confusion, anger. Lost. "Just like your family, yeah. You get over it though man" Or you learn to bury it. "It stops hurtin so sharp" As long as you dont think about it.

Moon tried to take another drink from his mug, but realized quickly hed drank it all before. Twisting towards Song, he gave her a weak grin as he held the empty up towards. "Be a darlin and see if they can spare another one, hun? Think Im still kinda dry"

As he held the glass out expectantly, Moon twisted his head back to Alex. "After? After was scary man Garrison scared a lotta people into keepin quite for a while, but didnt kill any of the fuckers who were really trouble. Pack was pretty much dead. Lots of gangs outside the Ash were. Still lots of kids wanderin around the streets though, waitin ta die or get pulled inta some hidden slave house. I didnt wanna see that though. Didnt want to die like White Dog did, but didnt mean I wanted ta see kids droppin like flies too.

"So, I remade the Pack." Moon forced a small, fierce smile onto his face. "Dragged a buncha of scraps left over from other gangs together and beat their asses till they agreed we were the Pack and I was in charge."

Alexander: He tried to contain the tears at the difamation. He wondered if that is how it went. If they would say things about his father as well, say things about his family, and all the good, all the promises of Whiteshield would just end up nothing. Just memories of people who did things like the Boil. If all the beauty, all the wonder, all the dreams... would just fade, like that. "The Pack..." He asked more juice, too. He had drank it all. "... I heard they fought during the rebellion. Even a terrestrial on their ranks. You formed them even before you Exalted?"

Seventh Moon: Before Song could leave, he gave her a meaningful glance and tipped his head slightly towards the mug. Two beers this time. No juice for the prince. If they were going to sit around talking about this stuff, Moon was at least going to make sure they were both proper trashed. She smiled wanly and nodded in understanding before slipping out the door.

"Way before. Not the Pack I got now. Kinny, Hannah... they came later." Most of them had just been kids when he grabbed them. He still remembered Hannah, barely as tall as his waist, grinning up at him with a crooked-toothed grin. Made him smile slightly. Thank the Lover those teeth had straightened as she got older.

"Shit was scary then too. Garrison hadn't done shit and once people realized Cleaning Season was over, shit started ta fly in a big way. Everyone was grabbin' up the turf that got left empty, grabbin' or stompin' whatever gangs couldn't stand on their own anymore. When all that settled, they started beatin on each other instead" That, at least, was a memory he had never buried. "That was a war too. We fought it in the alleys and side streets at night. Every mornin people would find corpses on the streets and bloodstains on walls. Sheeyit didnt think it would ever end."

Alexander: "So, they took the good gangs, and the bad ones just went at each other's throats?" Somewhere within Alexander, a voice says what some should have thought, 'Well, the animals are killing one another'. He sighed. "They were killing everyone in the way, right? Territory... just out of pride?"

Oh, I understand pride.

I bet their leaders were people like the Angels.

"And you tried to stop it?"

Seventh Moon: Moon nodded silently in accession as Alex spoke. It was a hard picture for him to paint. Things had been confusing then. Frightening. Couldnt go anywhere without a blade in your boot and eyes in the back of your head. You slept in shifts so someone would always watch the door. You never took ladies you didnt know home and frisked even the ones you did. The only pride he had out of it at first was that the Pack never killed anyone who wasn't part of another gang. But he couldn't say they always killed the right people.

"Did." He corrected with a lack luster smirk. Not looking or feeling quite as proud at the accomplishment as he should. "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..."

And if he could have gone back, knowing what he knew now, Moon would have said no. Not that no had ever really been an option.

Alexander: Alex smiled. Moon had won. No wonder he had been Chosen. No wonder at all.... he was a hero, himself.

He just semed to have a hard time realising that.

"Shadow Eyes?" The image of a chosen of Luna, blindfold over his eyes, usign a staff, a calm old man who could beat any and all who fought with him even in the dark appeared in Alex's mind. It was soon replaced by a Spider Lunar with lustrous carapace, always there, eyes in the shadows everywhere, one who would weave a network of spies in the Boil... "What was he like? He sensed you were going to be Chosen? They say other Chosen can do that, sometimes..."

Seventh Moon: "Shadow Eyes? I can probably set ya up with a meetin' if ya wanna see him first hand..." Moon's smirk had more feeling this time, but it was a wicked look. There was a glint the Lunars eyes, one that suggested Alex really didnt want to.

Shaking his head, Moon straightened up slightly, picking at his bandaged chest as the thought of the elder Lunar suddenly made the wound tingle and itch uncomfortably. "And I don't know if the old fucker sensed anything. Think maybe he just figured I was enough to make use outta even like I was. Know for a fact he didn't give a shit about what things were like with the gangs."

Alexander: "The way you talk about it, he sounds... scary. What did he want, then?"

"Why train you, if he did not care what you would do with the power?"

Something was wrong with that. Very wrong. Alex just couldn't pinpoint what

Seventh Moon: "Me."

It was an easy answer to give now, but it had taken Moon a long time to figure it out back then. He'd been blinded enough by the chance to fix the gangs, to stop the wars, that he never hesitated leaping into it long enough to think why some old crazy living in a basement for fuck knows how long would pop out of the ground just to show him how to knock a building over. He'd realized it eventually though. And it had been too late.

"Wasn't trainin' me ta stop the gangs. He was train' me ta kill gods."

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