GoldenCat/IntoShadows
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Into The Shadows
As dark clouds gathered above Windia, and a thunderstorm lit the night, it passed...
....In the warmth of a romantic book, over honest smiles and repressed giggles...
...In the lust of flesh, in the warmth of a waitress' arms, letting her loose and seeing as she liberates herself and lives her fantasy...
...In the cold of utter loneliness, devoid of all his life, all those he knew, flying somewhere in the storm, a demigod towards something smaller than him as he cried to the mercilessness of heaven...
...In the dance floor, letting your body shake and be free of everything save the music, the rhytm, and the hands running on her body, and the bodies to touch and feel as your body sings....
...In many ways, it passed. But, came morning, the thunder and storm were gone, leaving a misty day filled with sad squalls. A day where the air itself felt thick, but not with the southern moisture that clings to the skin - no, thick with the uneasy feeling of death. Monsters roaming the countryside. Intrigue. Monsters inside the city, a gravedigger swearing he'd seen Anathema rise from the graves... and the castle. Every bit people hear from the castle, things seem... worse. Like _something_ is going on there...
The day passed... and the night fell. Time of darkness, time of the dead, time to meet those forsaken by the sun, those who sold their names. A meeting between those not alive and not dead... to discuss the diplomacy of darkness.
Domiel: The day is only too short for Domiel. A night of surprisingly vibrant passion and exploration had reminded him only too well why you should never judge a book by it's cover. Then on into a morning he sought to drag out as long as he could, coaxing Aliset out of numerous attempts to leave the room and return to work, until she surrendered completely. A pleasant start to a day, being warm beneath the sheets, smiling and fondling Laughter in the air. The only emergence he made from his room was a trip down stairs to bring up a bottle of wine and a light meal. Had Fate not dictated otherwise, he'd had never left for even that long.
But the hour grew late and the light from the window eventually grew dim and there was nothing the Changling could say to keep his playmate in bed any longer. With a lingering kiss, they parted company and the Ashing Dove finally redressed himself, floating on clouds down the stair way to seek out the boy his was oath-bound to watch over and the two women who had been named in jailors.
Windia: Alex is at home, the two... on their rooms. It is time for the girls to go already, though, High time for their meeting in Blue Wind.
Windia is not a single mountain stretching foward like a needle to the sky - it does, indeed, center around the main mountain, but many other mounts grow in the roots of the great mountain, and the city wavers and flows between these mounts and some small valleys, below, forming smaller neighborhoods, still part of the city, but unlike Upper Windia, the wealthy district on the top of the great mountain, some are quite isolated on the patchwork of neighborhoods that is Lower Windia
And Blue Wind is one of the latter ones, a little neighborhood between the main mount and another,, in front of a great wall of stone, filled iwth waterfalls, both great and hidden, on both sides... It is colder in Blue Wind, and moister. The mists around it seem wet, leaving skin and clothes with droplets. The dew is strong over the woods, which take most of the eneighborhood.
It works like a little village, a small town inside the big one - many bakeries and merchants, all closed so early, and many, many villas.... a closed enough place so that the few people on the street eye the two dark goddesses walking on its streets with enough suspicion as to almost run away from them.
And, etched into stone, behind so many steps of stone, is the Immaculate Cathedral where the meeting will be held....
Selina faintly remembers something about murders here... she has been away for plenty of time, but, despite its homely feeling, it has never been devoid of scandals... rather, its closed nature always made it prone to silence its scandals. Rapists and murderers got justice on the street before anyone else could get to them, due to the fact each one spyes on the other's lives above their fences constantly. But murders have happened here. Plenty of them. Murders and rape and torture have gone by in closed basements, sometimes open secrets for every one of its denizens.... things that have been dealt with, or so it seems, but thsi neighborhood, despite its calm appearance, has always had a certain macabre air about it...
Selina De Windia: She walks the cobblestone streets, boots marking a ready candence. Maybe going to her doom, maybe not. Selina was never one to ponder that, too many nights under the blade -- nights just like this one.
Some of those nights were warmer than this though.
And most of them had been without a partner. Selina wasn't one for partners. "Hey," She says casually, conversationally, as she turns to Vorpal. "One of us should do most of the talking. Maybe I should, since I made the deal. Unless you really want to."
Not wearing a dress, not this time. Business like this demands her normal attire, which Selina has underneath her greatcoat -- and both weapons at her waist. The white wings and curly red hair are still there, although she is making a point not to appear obvious. The green gemstone lies in the collar of her leotard, unactivated for now.
Vorpal: Vorpal walks silently beside Selina, her green cloak almost black in the darkening evening. Her hood has been drawn up, her eyes gleaming from the depths of the cloth as she scans the buildings each side of the street. Mournful Kiss she has hung by her hip this time, where it can be easily retrieved. Although the wounds still weight her down, she shows no visible sign of it.
"Sure", she replies to Selina after a moment, her voice a bit resigned but otherwise neutral and unreadable. "If it makes you feel better."
Selina De Windia: "No no," Selina replies, scanning the neighborhood with a vague trepidation, trying to remember old half-forgotten rumours better than she is currently. "I just think it's best if we get it settled before hand, that's all. It won't do to have them laughing up their sleeves at us because of our egos. I won't deny I have one." She ends with a neutral shrug.
So many stupid, old rumors. Like the headless Lunar ghost who arose every night, right where her body was supposedly buried before Windia got big enough to swallow the grave.
And no one ever saw her. Stupid.
It wasn't that Selina didn't think it was possible, just that she thought a hungry ghost would have been exterminated long, long before.
The po is quite unsubtle. Especially that of a Wyld God.
Vorpal: Vorpal smiles in the depth of her hood. Was this the Dark Angel's idea of a friendly suggestion?
But on the other hand, it was one of the first suggestions the other Abyssal had given the Pale Angel with a reasonable tone of voice. "And I just agreed to your suggestion, didn't I?" she says, almost genially. "Don't worry, I'll be professional enough. It is the gloating and pretentuous attitude that annoy me, that's all. Go ahead - I'll back you up."
Selina De Windia: Nodding slightly, trying to stop thinking about all the rumours, Selina would give a "Right." in reply. It just wasn't professional to think like that. She was an Abyssal, she had listened to a Malfean. She had killed rapists and torturers and demons. So why was she thinking uneasily of hungry ghosts?
Probably just being back in my home city...yeah.
It was, afterall, a bit harder to face down uncertainty when you remembered the exact same ones you'd spent some time hiding from in your bed as a child. Even when you'd seen them elsewhere.
Vorpal: "Do you have Charms for negotiating?" Vorpal asks quietly as she walks onwards.
If she does, I should concentrate in the observation...
Windia: And as they talk and walk, you begin descending the steps of the Reinbach Temple... a shadowy, dark immaculate temple, half-carved out of stone, with great wooden and bronze gates which seem to be only for show, as the true entrance seems to be two side-doors.... a great hall if cleared in the forest in front of it, and paved with green-overrun cobblestones... it seems like you hear wailing from the inside, and all the symbols of the Immaculate dragons seem... bland, burned, darkened.
Vorpal: As the two Abyssals enter the shadowy temple, Vorpal calls upon her Essence to enhance her senses, sharpening her eyes and ears to supernatural acuteness.
Selina notices some... unusual things. Or not quite unusual... the overgrown vegetation stops shy of ten or so meters of the Temple. There, only vestiges of brown, dead plants. The moonlight does not touch the temple directly, only falling over the rocky wall on its opposite side, but the reflection of the moonlight on the temple suggests.... things... like gargoyles or monsters, on every one of its shadows.
Selina De Windia: "They're using this place as their lair?" Selina voices with a sigh, continuing to walk along. They had better leave when we do. Maybe I should leave Valencia a little note to make sure she chases them out.
Vorpal: Vorpal chuckles darkly at her words. "Abyssals never fail you in that sense, do they?"
Her mirth is short-lived, however, as she scans the temple around them, her eyes discerning every single bump and dent in the stony surfaces, her ears catching the whisper of air as it gently flows through the corridors, her mind painting these sensations into an image of almost painful, macabre beauty... One of the side-effects of the Charm she employed.
Selina De Windia: "The cliche is a bit less entertaining when it's played out in your own hometown." She hisses under her breath, scanning the area for their opposites. Where are those sluggards?
Vorpal: "There... hasn't been any massacres, ritual sacrifices, mass-murdering, plague or other such events close to this temple or under it, has there?" Vorpal asks thoughtfully with a soft tone of voice. An mien of intense concentration on her face, she slowly turns around in a full circle, her cloak sweeping the floor with the move.
Gathering her Essence for the second time and calling upon one of the powers given to her by her ghostly heritage, she sniffs at the air, once, twice.
Selina De Windia: "I've heard rumors." Selina answers smoothly, beginning to consider whether she should dive into the Trance or not.
I may as well.
"But I've no idea how true they are or not." She continues, closing her eyes for a moment as the world seems to shift around her -- only for her vision though -- and when she opens them..the patterns of life and death interlay over her normal view.
Vorpal: Vorpal does not seem to hear. She stands silently like a statue, her chin slightly raised, her face turned to the shadows around them.
"Three", she whispers after a moment, tasting the air once more. Carefully, she shuts down the powerful, delicious scent wafting in from Selina, concentrating on the other sensations coming to her from the other parts of the temple. "Three powerful Essence, a number of smaller ones."
...and you are making me hungry... she adds silently, trying to banish the overwhelming lure of the Dark Angel's own Essence.
Selina De Windia: "Come out, deathknights." Selina purrs, giving the same achingly sultry affect to her voice as she had the other day with Charmaine, as she shifts her weight to one side. "I tire of waiting for you."
Ghostly Girl: ...And only silence answers her.
Silence... and the image of a little girl holding a stuffed rabbit.... blood trickling from the corners of her mouth. "...who tires waiting of who?" She laughs, a joyful young laugh. "Mistress has been waiting for you for awhile..."
Selina De Windia: "Has she?" Selina answers in the same tone as before, gaze falling on the little girl like a searchlight. "I am here at the appointed time. Let the meeting commence then."
Ghostly Girl: "Mistress asked for you in the church, silly, silly Deathknight... not outside of it, or did she?" She says, a finger over her cute little lips, looking at Selina with eyes that are tantamout to her shaking her head, "She's waiting for you in there... hurry hurry! She doesn't like being bored!"
Vorpal: Silent and in the background, Vorpal folds her arms under the confines of her cloak.
Trying to put us into the role of an audience-seeker while they play the mistress, hmm?
She should have told them to come to us instead.
Selina De Windia: "How picky." Comes the smooth response, then with a final look about, she moves to enter the building proper.
As she approaches the building, its door opens, with a loud creaking sound, shadows still too thick inside of it...
Vorpal: "Isn't this a flashy show", Vorpal states, more to herself than anyone else as she follows after Selina, her eyes sweeping over the doorway as they move through.
Darkness: As they come in, you feel... at home. The opression of the living world is lifted, and the angels feel like.... home. Inside, they see a large patium, doubtless where Immaculate Monks once trained... but now, where dead and living alike kneel down in prayer over many improvised shrines, nothing more than towels placed on the ground before the devouts, then filled with a plate, incense, blood offerings, pictures, and other things to be burned.
The patium continues foward to the Temple proper, stagnant winds somehow making a bell chime ominously. And the little girl walks in front of the angels... "This way, this way!" She says, pointing to the Temple. Then, she vanishes... replaced by a figure walking from behind you. A girl, the same one, but now as a young woman, not a illusion this time as Selina's sight can attest, but a Ghost, clearly on the corpus of her being... smiling at them. "Let's go quickly, shall we?"
Selina De Windia: Fury
It washes through her, at the sight of the dead and living worshipping the unliving in her city. She channels it away quickly enough, but it is still an affront to her. An obscenity.
This city is mine, and mine alone.
Managing to smile back at the Ghost, with more of an edge to it this time, Selina follows. She will deal with this appropriately at a later date. Perhaps it had been going on longer than she thought, and the tree is ready for a little pruning indeed.
Not the Malfeans'!
And not the Bishop's!
Cathedral: Looking around them... the angels see the same wall of stone, but now, taller... and sharp. Its ending is sharp as a knife, and it has many, many razor-sharp edges jutting out of it, the Corpus of many ghosts impaled in them, wailing. The Temple itself is now a huge Cathedral, several stores tall, made of black rock and the razor metal of the wall, but mostly colored, in its windows, sculptures and releves, by the ivory of bone and the essence of oddly pulsing crystals... cutting a black heaven, an otherworldy spire....
Vorpal: "Goddamn..." Vorpal whispers, halting, her eyes fixed directly upwards. Her lips part slightly, her chest swells as she takes in a deep breath, her mind running its own conclusions.Not a wonder they wanted us here after nightfall!
Selina De Windia: "I don't see anything special." Selina murmurs, looking around crossly, still annoyed at the worshippers she just saw.
Vorpal: "Then look again", Vorpal replies, not moving her gaze from the heavens. "This isn't Windia anymore."
Underworld: Looking upwards, Selina sees what Vorpal did. Some movement, something ruffling... the dark, thundering clouds... and, below them you see a great spire of Obsidian disappearing above the clouds, two razor-sharp wings coming from its sides, a tower... no, a castle, so greatly sculpted! with pavilliosn that seem connected by nothing but tiny strands people wouldn't actually walk in!
And coming down from it, the city... following the same alien patterns, not made for anything that walks... that CANNOT be Windia!
Selina De Windia: "They dare." She growls now, looking up at the sight. A portal to the Bishop's realm? She would have none of it! None.
For all that, it feels...oddly magnetic. Cursing her Abyssal nature inwardly, Selina waits for the people she was supposed to meet.
Vorpal: "I'll have to admit", the Ghost-Blooded says absently, a somewhat impressed mien on her face, "They did a very good job getting this in the middle of the city."
Finally does she turn away from the sight, throwing a glance at Selina instead. "Let's finish this negotiation before morning, shall we? Just in case."
Selina De Windia: Giving the otherwordly cathedral a dry look, Selina begins to stride inward, ready to yell at Charmaine for making her jump through so many hoops to get there.
Cathedral: As Selina enters, she sees... a cathedral. In the style of gothic churches, people praying, many shrines to individual Malfeans or some important Ancestors of the Dead Winged City... both living and dead pray, and prayer seems almost visible on this room... Vorpal can sense the essence without even needing to use her charms. On the center altar, an imposing, great ghostly figure preaches, reading of some lytanny of oblivion... but the girl walks to the right and past him and the room, to a little door to the right... one of the many doors leading out of this main Hall, and you can see walkways high above you... in what is an Impressive architecture - least half of that great size is in the main hall going up alone, even though it seems to have so many plataforms higher up... and all of it, all of it, rich with details....
Vorpal: Vorpal halts by the doorway, sniffing inconspiciously at the air in an attempt to determine the location of the three most powerful sources of Essence.
Ghostly Girl: The girl comes out of the door to the right, "Hey, come o~o~n! I know it's impressive, but mistress is waiting, come, come!"
The two hear... slightly below the sound of the many prayers, of the constant chant in Old Realm... a voice. A whimper, a moan. More than one, more than one, whimpers and moans, no giggles... like suffering and lust all at once... somewhere in there...
Vorpal: Vorpal shivers inwardly at the sound. It reminds her of the Lover's own Fortress and the grotesque nights of lust and passion there. "Let's get this over with", she mutters to Selina, nudging her onwards.
Selina De Windia: Raising an eyebrow, Selina sighs and follows the door, reaching the door as she purses her lips,growling "This meeting had better get us something worthwhile."
Deathknights: As both Angels go into the cathedral hall’s door, they step step into a... corridor. walking some steps down towards a larger door at the end... and opening it, to a luxurious room.
Very religious, empty aside from the altars on the walls, the burning incense filling their lungs, the images of Stygia and the Void... and of the Shining One. To the center, a table covered in red velvet, as well as four large chairs covered in the same...
And... langushing on one of them, lips curling in a wicked smile as they come in... Charmaine.
The heavy black robes of her order covering her wholly, and yet, her voluptuous figure still shows through. A bang of her fiery hair falls over her face as she smiles at the newcomers... a chain on her hand, leading to a scantily-clad girl knelt at her feet and resting her face on her leg, a beautiful girl, of a heart-shaped face, full pouty lips and purple eyes, clinging to Charmaine as if she was the only thing in the world...
And standing, not far from her... someone else. His head is cleanly shaven, and he shows traces of Realm Ancestry, on his coal-black eyebrows. He clads himself as an Immaculate Monk, only all in black and violet, the images of dark serpents on his outfit. On his hand, rests a cane of Black Jade and Soulsteel, marked with the figure of serpents, the head of them at both of its ends....
"Welcome, welcome! You finally got here, Dark Angel, took your time... and this is the Pale Angel, is it? She is prettier than I imagined, indeed.." Her voice seems to be aroused as she says so. Her partner lifts an eyebrow, but says nothing, as their dark meeting is joined...
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