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Zan
Exalted Player
Posts: 206
Joined: Sat Jan 22, 2005 10:28 pm
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Post by Zan » Mon Oct 15, 2007 6:32 am

Despite all Zan's careful planning, despite the almost mechanical efficiency with which Nulus and him worked together, both could do little but watch as nothing of it came to fruition. The shadowed leap, the Kannon, the strikes at her vital points...nothing. Not even Nulus' furious, numerous swipes were given any heed. One thing was for certain: the Heavy Blade had severely underestimated the power of Angel's first form. Well...was it the first form? She had, after all, been fighting them without the sword during what he assumed was her first. Had the sword been a part of some progression? Logically, he'd have to go with 'yes.' There had been too much power and dexterous grace within her weapon to have it be simply an accessory. Or maybe he was just telling himself that to make the wound to his pride a little less deep. Who knew? One thing was for certain: everyone around him was getting hurt - Canti had even been slain - and she was still on the loose. No...no, wait. She was falling and rolling towards him. In that moment he allowed his fighter's instinct to take over, using it to guide his blade in a mirroring uppercut to Angel's own. The Ap Torv, and his own preternatural senses, told him that he was going to hit. There was no avoiding it. But...if he did?

The bitch was going down with him.

Dual contact signaled time's pause. Everything around Zan came to a halt, everything but Angel. Freedom Fighters were stuck mid-fall and others mid-strike at the fight's end. As the sting of her blade's cut zapped through his chin, the rest of his doubts went away. The werewolf didn't need to see the twin cut on her own visage to know that he had accomplished what he had set out to. It had become an ingrained knowledge, something gathered from his 'lizard brain', as scientists called it. Or, perhaps more accurately for him in particular, his 'wolf brain.' His Beast. That part of him had absorbed everything, seen everything from angles a human mind couldn't perceive and given him the result of their encounter before he had even thought to pose the question. Apparently satisfied with what had happened, Angel revoked her hold on the room's temporal flow and disappeared with a few idle words, leaving behind a golden key in the room's center in her wake. The lycanthrope didn't hesitate to walk over and pick it up, rolling the thing around idly between his fingers before stashing it away in his pocket. He knew where it went. Willing the Ghostdancer back into his inventory, he watched as the hulking Shade melted down, in wisps and green mist, into a human shape. Nul, adjusting the collar of his black, waist-length leather coat, lofted his chin up in Zan's direction and smiled.

The Lycan returned it, but moved his focus to the rest of the room, to the rest of the party. "Great job, everyone. We showed that bitch that the Freedom Fighters aren't a team to laugh and jeer at." He paused, considering a few factors. "For the most part, anyway. Awesome how Nighthand, our leader, was here to help us out." Another pointed pause. "No, wait..." Swapping out the Scarab Earrings, Zan ended it all with a spell in Canti's direction and another to the rest of the group. "Rip Maen. La Repth."

And with that, he was finished, the Heavy Blade turning away from the group to exit the room. A quick check and he noted Sekai's presence, safe and sound. Good. Wandering eyes found the doors at the end of the hall, the ones that had been barring their progression. He could go to it right then if he wanted to, but he held off. Part of him wanted to find Nighthand to verbally rip him a new asshole, but knew in the end it would accomplish nothing. Another part of him wanted to seek out Lighteria too, for similar 'way to be useless' conversations, but decided against it for similar reasons. That said, he still needed to find them, to tell them that it was time to move on. His nose told him a Flashmail would be a waste of time, that they weren't far, and Zan allowed his sloth to take hold as he began to head to a room of the mansion mostly unfamiliar to him. The werewolf had, through various fire-fighting missions and casual inspections, seen most every room. The one Lighteria and Nighthand were in, however, didn't smell like it had before. Ug. Had the sons of bitches set it on fire? No...it didn't smell like smoke, cinder or ash. Something else. Whatever it was, he hadn't had the...er, pleasure...to whiff anything like it in the past. A peek into the room and he gathered the gist - playing with potions.

"Glad to see you two have decided to be productive while we've twiddled our thumbs with Angel." He gave the room a parting look. "We have the key. We're moving onto the next floor. Feel free to join us."

When Zan turned and took a step into the hall once again, Nul was there to greet him. They spoke in the way they had come to be accustomed to during the fight. Their minds still synchronized, it wasn't so much a conversation as it was a really fast-paced mental movie. The lycanthrope knew that his partner had a similar loss of respect and distaste for Nighthand's languid actions and Lighteria's apparent need to play mad scientist. It was something they could have waited to do until after the damn fight. Things had worked out, sure, but Canti might not have had to die if Lighteria and Nighthand had been there to help. Hell, with Nighthand's State Shift? They could have had Angel eating her own blade in an attempt to cut Mr. Blur. Ah well. The two agreed that mulling over such things was pointless now. Nothing but moving on seemed appropriate. That didn't mean, of course, that it wasn't a grudge Zan would cease to harbor anytime soon. After all, he had stopped giving two shits about Nall because he had begun to slump into similar trends of standby uselessness. Despite all that, he had retained a loyalty for Nighthand and a faith in the man's ability to lead them because he, unlike the ex-Elite, had always seemed to stick it through with them. And now that was changing. What, was it some sort of disease amongst the leading structure of the Freedom Fighters to start assuming their team no longer needed their help? Zan had stopped believing the, 'It's to make you stronger,' bullshit ages ago.

In their current lull, he found his mind drifting towards thoughts of Lowen, something that made him remove the tight mental bond between him and Nul. Zan was tempted to tap into the connection he shared with her, but fought the almost overwhelming urge. It had seemed to pain her to see him during his last few...visits, or whatever they were. Dream trips, maybe. There more he did, the less hope she seemed to have that he'd appear in reality. The lycanthrope couldn't recall anyone he knew ever dying of dwindled hope, but he certainly didn't want to be the one to cause such a thing. Angel was the last God damn Guardian he had to stomp out before he finally sought out a way to temporarily return to the real world and save Lowen. It lit enough of a fire under him, if a bit suddenly, that his qualms with Lighteria and Nighthand especially were suddenly snuffed from the front of his thoughts. God help the digital beastie the stood between him and Lowen's salvation. No one was going to keep him from her much longer. Not and live - that was for damn sure. Nul had been busy cracking some joke about Canti needing flying lessons from 'a real pro' when Zan came out of his thought-trance. Attempting a patronizing laugh, but knowing the Shade-turned-human saw through it, the werewolf continued to make his way towards the door to the next floor.

Zan found himself praying that the field wasn't too much longer. Primal's had been an utter bitch to trek through and seemed to take months when, in fact, he knew only a few hours had gone by. The Lycan knew that you couldn't exactly rely on spatial dimensions in a video game, but the mansion hadn't looked so huge from the outside. Maybe it would live up to that and only be three or so floors. Yeah, that'd be just about peachy. Then? Then he could go off to do what he needed to and remember what it felt like to be content again. There were a lot of blatant difficulties he was ignoring, difficulties that would make the whole task a lot more arduous than he was giving it credit...but it wouldn't help to dwell on such things until he absolutely had to. Negativity didn't need more time to blossom in him than necessary. Zan didn't exactly consider himself an optimistic person to begin with. No way did he need any assistance on the pessimism front. Withdrawing the golden key from his pocket, he laughed as the 'I've Got a Golden Ticket' song from an ancient movie hummed its way into his brain. The damn thing was catchy and, almost the same second it came in, he found himself busy with a mental search for a better song to occupy his inner mumblings. The Heavy Blade was close...so close...but Nul wouldn't have it. Rather than let it fade, he pushed into his partner's thoughts with the lyrics.

I've got a golden ticket...

Zan laughed, coming to stand before the door as he slid the key in and heard the lock click. Opening it, the lycanthrope continued the song, not particularly caring about the stares it might garner him.

"I've got a golden twinkle in my eye..."
Lv. 50 Heavy Blade
Wishlist
Special: Levels, GR Sendai, PL Sakai, Darklore.
W: Tonosama Sword, Mineuchi, Jundachi.
A: Samurai Helm, Able Hands, Rare Greaves.
I: Holy Sap, Treebane, Cooked Bile, Nightbane.
EX: Elemental Summon (Lv. 2), Overdrive (Lv.1), Elemental Attacks (Lv. 2), Enhance Dark, Elemental Breath (Lv. 2).

Fuzzhead
Elevated Player
Posts: 37
Joined: Fri Apr 08, 2005 1:27 am

Post by Fuzzhead » Mon Oct 15, 2007 10:00 pm

Hmm… thought Silk to himself. What if this whole fight was a play written and choreographed by Shakespeare? Without warning, the Fist Fighter’s imagination took him to destinations unknown, departing from reality entirely.

--------------------------------------------

Freedom Fighters… by William Shakespeare!

Act I

Enter Freedom Fighters. Enter Angel.

Angel: Greetings, travelers. Mine master hast spoken of thou. Mine name is Angel, and I have been charged to play as thy Sentinel. Lower thy instruments of mayhem; mine corporeal form lies elsewhere, so thy aggression wouldst be vain.

Mine mode of existence is deliberate; I am no beggar, and they wouldst do well to pay heed to mine words: if thy grubby digits shouldst brush a single chalice, if thy weapons should mar one fine painting, if thy eyes should covet any item in mine grand abode… mine vengeance shall be like fire lit beneath your very breasts.

Now, warriors, thou mayst travel amongst mine fine treasures. But be wary… mine prices are stretch to the sky.

Silk: Oh fine Angel, thine eyes are like the jewels upon my mother’s ring, dancing across the graceful curves of thine faultless face as pigeons across a starry night. Fear not mine worker’s hands, as they possess the gentle course of a river’s breathless embrace, and forthcoming, is indeed the patience of a thousand years and more, for mine life is already bound to thee! Please takest mine soul amongst your other baubles, yea, the fire in my heart, like a canyon of fireworks deeper than the depths of the ocean, prepares to explode across the great green valleys, nevertheless, is like the narcotics of multiple hits of marijuana, flying and spinning across mine vision in a million expertly painted images!

Angel: You, sir, are an idiot. Your endless foolishness is cause for mine displeasure, yea, you are surely the most meaningless of encounters that I have thus, and verily, seen in mine life up to this day, the day of thy arrival.

Silk: Oh Angel, thy answer disappoints, but not destroys, as my annihilation by hands as soft and featured as thine need not be the cause for distress, and verily, whilst the stares of mine allies bore into my skull, not cause me the least of pains, as for you and your luscious body, I have unending love and envious desire, such that any words thou shouldst spake, will only hearken greater powers of absurdity from mine flowing veins!

Angel: Slash-squelch.

Act II

Enter Angel. Enter Freedom Fighters.

Angel: Scoundrels! Thou hast damaged mine brilliant mansion, and like sure fire amongst mine organs, mine fury strong and bloodthirsty, death shall rain upon thy heads like the rain of Spartans, faster, harder, stronger and yea, the Gods themselves shalt bear witness to the shallow, unmarked grave occupied by the cold, melancholy skeletons of your reeking bodies. RAGARARARAGAGARARARAGARAR!!!!

Phoenix: Hark! Mine companion’s assaults bear no effect. Like pebbles landing across the craggy rock face of New Hampshire’s Old Man, and similar to the result of infants smashing their fists against the sides of a tank, the fires of the phoenix I call my own do not burn brightly or fiercely against the powers of the Angel and her beast of burden, and for this reason I fear the worst, yet verily, I shall press on the attack for, failing any further course, at least mine efforts shall provide our mutual enemy the pleasure of a tactless challenge! If thine goal is to participate in yon lethal game, one must first assault the meandering facility of which we presently converge in noble and just battle!

Zhao: Stay thy blades, mine brave companions! Mine foolishness hast caus’d great threat for your persons, like the oncoming comet of old Europe, and for this the sorrow of my soul can be described only as the washings of great tides and ocean waves crashing upon the sandy beaches of long stretches of France. I alone shall defeat this gargantuan juggernaut, or face death with fearless eyes and a proud chin, for the legs with which I drive forth my weapon feel not like the water dripping from the cave’s stalagmite, but like the rocky foundation of the Everest mountain, for which the even the contraband of Gods pays homage!

Silk: Rayo! Succumb to mine request and arrange for the most potent of alcohols to come within my possession! My plans for the ravaging of this most rapturous of women shall come to fruition under the steady care of my powerful fists, fists which have broken the backs of men, the skulls of Hercules and Beowulf, and the beards of Zeus and great Athena!

Kit: Mew mew mew mew mew!

Sekai: O fearful Angel, please shed mercy upon our collective sinning heads! Take our women and children instead! Yea, cannibalizing thine own pet is not the directive recommended by that all-knowing omniscient, sense of the common!

Lighteria: Mine mind is shielded to the urgency of war pressing insistently at mine doorstep! Willful ignorance? Tcha!

Nighthand: Indeed, bringing force to the creature, nevertheless, is a fruitless venture. Mine services and great intellectual fortitude art clearly of better utility in the act of mild and quiet ponderment on matters not at hand; exploration of this cavernous building seems prudent and tactful!

Exit Nighthand. Exit Lighteria and Kit.

Canti: Ani Don!

Rayo: Tcha! Mine enemy’s servant is not mine enemy, and therefore, truthfully, and nevertheless, heretofore, concordantly and after all is furthermore not mine primary target!

Senna: Well said, Sekai, but the words spoken by thine lips are neither here nor there, and while I possess the greatest of sympathy for your cause, the Freedom Fighters have dictated your removal from the area, for thine own sake as well as the sakes of the Gods Mercury and Master Chief.

Enter Kit.

Kit: Mew mew mew mew mew meow!!!

Act III

Enter Angel. Enter Freedom Fighters excepting Nighthand, Kit, and Lighteria.

Zan: O divine Angel, thy powers extend beyond the vision of the sharpest eagle, like the horizon of the lands of ye old Gods, please contain the heart of great W the Compassionate, and lower thine impregnable shields protecting thy body, for yea and verily, thine shield is more powerful than the deflector dish of the legendary Enterprise captained by admirable Captain William Shatner! In exchange I shalt grant thee mine most prized items of which there are statistically few and proportionately none!

Silk and others: lol me 2!!eleven!!!one!11!!

*Hack slash bang bang bang!*

GGKTHXBAINORM!

---------------------------------------------------------

…And then Silk snapped back to reality.

Ol’ Bill Shakespeare always was a shitty writer… thought Silk with a sigh.
Level 25 Fist Fighter
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband

Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher

Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items

Phoenix512
Exalted Player
Posts: 304
Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2003 10:42 pm

Post by Phoenix512 » Tue Oct 16, 2007 1:48 am

Right now, the Freedom Fighters managed to get a small victory towards their goal but the task will get much tougher. It took the combined effort of six Freedom Fighters and Zan’s companion’s, Nulus to get a mere scratch on Angel. Phoenix knows that it would take the full effort of the Freedom Fighters to defeat Marionette’s final guardian but that may not happen with this fight. The group was splintered due to the revelation that Angel is a willing minion of Marionette. People seemed to lose their will to fight due to that one fact. It should not be a surprise that there will be people who joined the Elites willingly.

The blademaster was still worry about Angel’s multi-colored armband that seemingly absorbs the party’s spell attacks. He was disappointed that she did not use it in the battle or perhaps one of the effects allows dispelling elemental weapon skills which she did not want to risk losing an advantage. Also she did not try to absorb or dispel the Wind Blade which leads Phoenix to believe that she cannot absorb it or does not know if she could do it or not. Either way it allowed least one special attack is open season on the guardian.

Phoenix doubts that his words would make the others who did not fight Angel suddenly fight against her. They need to find their own path to fight against her especially Sekai as she is more a liability at this point. Who knows if she decides to turn on the Freedom Fighters because we were about to kill her?

Suzaku, I have an order that must be follow no matter what. If Sekai decides to turn against us, attack her immediately if I’m unable to strike against her. We can’t afford to have her trying to interfere with what we must do here. We can debate with her when we get out of here. Do you understand my order? I know it’s a tough one.

The bird did not reply back to Phoenix’s thought for a minute before answering back.

I understood, Kazuma-sama. I will do anything for you regardless how morally difficult it is to attack a fellow ally.

Thanks Suzaku.

The blademaster took a Mage’s Soul and drank it to recover his lost SP. He did not want to wait here forever. He wants to chase after Angel and get out of this mansion to find the puppet-master himself. Come Suzaku. Let’s follow Zan to the second floor. The bird flew next to her master as they followed Zan to the door to the second floor of the mansion.
Phoenix
Level 48 Blademaster
Equipped Skills: Vak Revolver, Gan Revolver, Dek Vorv, La Repth, Juk Kruz, Rue Kruz, BiVak Rom, GiGan Zot
Other Skills: Rue Kruz, Rip Synk, Rip Saem, Crack Beat, Rue Slash, Ani Slash, Gan Crack, Gan Revolver

Wish List: Phoenix's Fire, Gold Necklace
EX-Spheres: LV 3 - Overdrive, LV 3 - Curative, LV 3 - Elemental Breath

Lord Canti
Exalted Player
Posts: 300
Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 3:58 pm
Location: In da' plains of hell, natch.

Post by Lord Canti » Tue Oct 16, 2007 6:54 am

For Canti, there was nothing else in The World besides what he was doing. Listening to fast-paced music, practically ricochetting like a bullet all around the room, there was nothing for him besides the various dimensions of the room...and the one enemy located in it. He was careful not to hit anybody, but at the same time...that's all they were as he moved at high-speed. Obstacles to the target. Therefore, his universe now consisted of fighting Angel, and keeping her on her toes. However, it was during the third strike that he'd been unexpectedly hit...thanks only to perhaps some ill-timed action of one of the others, allowing Angel to slash...and then Canti felt alot lighter for some reason.

Canti: Wait a minute...

(His body thudded to the ground and his ghost traveled...right through it, actually, mostly because he was intangiable now and moving at an accelerated speed. As his body went evaporating, Canti rose from the depths in something like an Apocalypse Now! manner, looking over what was going on while he was a spirit. He was just in time to see Zan nick the Guardian, which was enough for them to pass. Angel conceded 'defeat' and vanished, leaving the key behind. As the Twin Blade winged his way to the surface to 'stand' on the ground again, his mind went back to that hit... There was no warning and no indication... He had been killed in one slash. Angel must've had either a special power, a high enough level, or both...in order to inflict damage like that so easily. Of course, noting her skills, it was clear that she was going to be a tough case.)

Canti: Actually fighting her is a tough gig to get by, and I'm pretty sure that half of us don't even want to. Maybe if there was some other way...something we could use against her. Now, what did she say before...?

(Canti was barely paying attention as Zan spoke and revived him, mostly because it was mostly some sarcastic remarks about Nighthand and such. Since Zan had the key now, Canti was merely content to follow. For the most part, it didn't matter that he'd died, since...he was technically using other people's attacks as a cover for his own in the first place. However, now that he'd 'sampled' Angel's blade, it was obvious that some OTHER method of attack would be needed. This was pretty much the lines of thinking that Canti was in as he headed after Zan to the second floor. Some ideas WERE brewing, though, so it wasn't a total loss...)

OOC: Not long because...not much going on just yet. Let's just say it's slight foreshadowing and move on.
I'll have a doozy of a sig later, I swear. It'll reflect ".hack//CODE" an' everything.

Hey look! A profile! It's got items and stats and things! Cool! If it isn't fully up to date, it will be, so don't worry 'bout it.

User avatar
Sekai
Ikkitousen
Posts: 123
Joined: Tue Apr 10, 2007 11:04 pm
Class: Archer
Location: Liminality

Post by Sekai » Tue Oct 16, 2007 9:38 am

The battle was over before she'd even realized it.

Then again, she hadn't been paying too close attention to the fight for the items because of the thoughts racing around in her head, sending her heart and pulse into overdrive. Well, that and the distinct sense of an oncoming panic-attack. Her chest tightened, lungs holding back air and dizziness hit her with the full force of an oncoming semi-truck as she reached out to brace herself against the wall behind her. Shoot, she thought weakly to herself, now was not a good time for this kind of thing to happen and for those thoughts to come back to haunt her now. There was no Vak field, there was no field to test a person's soul, there was no Mother and there was most definitely no human sacrifice and soul in eternal torment in a physical representation of Dante's Inferno.

So then why did this place suddenly carry the same air as that field had?

Her head pounded, blood beating a drum's tattoo in her veins as she tried desperately to shake it off, to drive it back and lock it down until she could release it somewhere private, to let those thoughts and feelings that ate at her continuously out until they were tolerable again. She needed to do something to take her mind off of things, off of the thoughts that Angel-san had unearthed from merely an exchange of words and away from the overwhelming feeling of panic and hopelessness that was starting to wrap icy hands around her throat. What was- there! Tawny eyes landed on and focused on the two figures in leather walking out of the room; one in green and one in black as her mind made itself up and sent her forward.

Safety usually rested in numbers, but, she couldn't shake the feeling of paranoia that people were watching her because she'd tried to end the fighting and get them to try another way. If anything... if anyone could possibly be of assistance, to be a beacon of safety right now... it must be those two ahead of her, right? Sekai's first several steps were clumsy and shaky, the attempt at moving at a quick speed to catch up failing rather spectacularly before she could manage to get her balance back together. It took her a while to catch up, watching him whistle and sing to himself and give her a slight... feeling that if she were to say anything about... what was on her mind, it would break his good mood.

But then... what should she do about that flashmail sitting in her inbox telling her to talk to him?

Pulling it up to look at once more, Sekai scanned the contents with a sinking heart and looked over at the backs turned to her. How on Earth could she bring this up with him? And what was this token that Marionette-san was talking about that Zan had? Her shoulders slumped as she fought with herself inside, there really were only two choices she had left in this case; either pretend it never happened, something she was never good at, or she could go and talk to him about it. In either case; something had to be done and it needed to be decided now.

'I wish Kira was here...'

She thought miserably, trying futilely to reach the AI who'd vanished without a single trace at the beginning of this entire excursion one more time before giving up entirely. They were getting further ahead of her again and she needed to hurry and talk a little bit before, well, before someone else came in close behind her and either caught part of the conversation or interrupted her before she could ask him a few questions about his particular deal with this odd puppet master, as she'd heard him be called before.

Sekai hesitated as she came closer to where Zan and Nulus were, fear and uncertainty building a block in her throat and compressing against her chest before she quietly reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed a small handful of the long dark green coat that Zan wore. Hey, were those symbols in the fabric? Curiosity almost took over and distracted her from why she'd reached out in the first place... but were there symbols or was it her imagination and a trick of the light?

“Um... is... is this a bad time to talk to you?”

She asked quietly, eyes trained on the handful of his coat she had in her hand and waited for the rejection or the brush off. After all, this probably wasn't the best time to be trying to broach this subject.

Zan had smelled her coming, had heard the Archer's approach before she bothered to speak even a syllable. Turning to face her, he offered his usual shadow of a smile, the scar tissue on the left side of his face creasing with the effort. Maybe that's why he didn't smile much anymore?

"Not so much. I just had to get a few things off of my chest." The werewolf stopped, nodding at Nul as the oddly polite man kept walking to give them a little privacy. "What can I do for you, mei lumen?" For no particular reason other than to stop abusing Kira's petname for her, he had chosen to switch to one of the few Latin phrases he knew.

Mei...what? That took her back a few steps, visibly puzzled over the new term as she tried to figure out what that meant, that first part might have been Japanese but, the rest of it... no, it didn't fit in with her language. She shook her thoughts almost viciously, admonishing herself for getting sidetracked again by something so simple and tried to, well, be as blunt as Kira when it came to an important subject.

"I was told to ask you about... something."

Crap. Operation Don't Beat Around the Bush was a successful failure of near epic and lame proportions. She made a face, like she'd bit into something particularly sour or bitter before trying again.

"I mean... somethingaboutatoken."

Sekai mumbled out in a rush, cheeks turning pink in irritated embarrassment at her own lack of assertiveness and courage to actually bring the full subject up.

Zan, quite honestly, seemed just as confused about her words as she had been with his. "A...what? A token?" The lycanthrope stood up a little straighter, scratching the back of his head. "I don't really know what you mean, Sekai. Who told you ask me about it?"

Her mouth went dry and some of the color left her face. Had... had she just fallen into some kind of elaborated trap and let something slip that she hadn't supposed to? Worry and anxiety filtered through as she struggled internally with the decision to either proceed and risk it... or to try and cover it up with some kind of lie that she'd probably fail at in the first place. Sekai's shoulders hunched a little as she looked up at Zan, not even blinking twice at the scarred skin on his face; that had startled her the first time but, it wasn't important to her; it was seeing if... if she were wrong about what she was doing, trying to do anyway, and if he was really, genuinely out of the loop on what she was talking about.

"Marionette-san... asked me to. In a flashmail I received."

She replied quietly and looked around quickly for any sign of someone approaching. The flashmail had said not to tell anyone else but Zan and not to let anyone else know about it.

Zan looked that much more confused at her words. Marionette's sudden involvement in the conversation didn't make understanding any of it any easier...until something clicked. The dazed expression on the lycanthrope's face suddenly slid into a stoic nothingness, his eyes narrowing in turn. For a second, just a second, the Beast in him felt cornered...felt manipulated and threatened. In that same second both eyes bled to the angry amber of the wolf, an inhuman growl beginning to rise from the depths of his throat. And then he realized who he was talking to. Sekai didn't trick people. Or, if she did, he would have been able to tell if she was trying. Right now? All that nervousness was just the weight of the conversation itself. With the Heavy Blade's eyes returning to normal, he took her gently by the arm and led them well away from earshot of anyone in the group.

"I...apologize for my temper. It's not always so easy to control." And silence preceeded, his eyes looking at everything but her as he fought for some way to continue this conversation.

If Marionette had told her, and only he could have, then she was supposed to help him. God damn it, that motherfucker was involving an innocent in what could get her ostracized from the Freedom Fighters. Yet, the possibility of having someone to talk to about it, to not feel so alone in it all with, it made him a little irrational.

Finally, he spoke, his glacial eyes meeting with hers. "I...well, I made a deal with the Puppetmaster. These fields are Communication Hubs for the Elites, as I'm sure you know, and I didn't think it possible that their destruction would just go magically unnoticed. So, I, well..." He was babbling. Pausing, he indulged in a deep breath. "I made a deal with him. If he'd protect us from their radar during our trips in the Hubs, I'd convince the group to go to a field where I assume he resides. Technically, it's a trap. I'm leading them into a trap...but we all knew we'd have to fight him eventually, right? I'll do my best to keep people safe in the next field." He hung his head a bit. "I'm no traitor, Sekai. I swear." And again their eyes met.

She hadn't anticipated that he'd be angry at what she'd said, at her even, or so it seemed as she watched his eyes change and the emotion race across his face at the same time the growl rose in his throat. As per the norm of her reactions, she physically flinched and tried to make herself as small as possible, something instinctive in the girl's mind making her use her body language to show she was extremely passive and very submissive. That she knew who the stronger of them was and acknowledged that he was the one who was in control of the situation and she wouldn't be challenging his authority. The grip on her arm was gentle, though it still startled her nonetheless, thoughts racing wildly as the small child inside her wailed and wanted to know what she'd done wrong this time and if she was in trouble again. Sekai tried her best to look like nothing was wrong if any eyes were watching them, like they were going to go look at something but, the fear and the rising memories in the back of her mind of her life outside the game, before she'd escaped from her former home, were threatening to take over.

The apology was accepted with a tiny nod, uncertainty and the child in her still feeling like she was in trouble for doing something she wasn't supposed to were high as she watched his eyes wander, looking at everything except for her as she dropped her gaze as well to the floor and waited. His explanation was halting, like he wasn't sure if he should be talking to her about it or not and she listened closely. It hurt a little, knowing that he had done so much on his own and how much it probably- and there it was; the silent accusation that filled the room when the other members of their group looked at him. That suspicion she hadn't understood and still didn't even now. Shakily lifting on hand, she made her unstable feet stand on end, giving her a small boost in height as she touched his shoulder cautiously and tried to find the right words to say to him.

"I don't understand why..."

She swallowed hard and shook her head.

"...why they're acting like they are."

Sekai's eyes darkened a little, tawny color more brown than gold in hue as she shook her head again.

"You're... you're protecting them. Not hurting anyone. You're not a... a traitor."

Her eyes dropped and looked somewhere to her right, her lip bitten for a moment before she finished that thought quietly.

"Traitors do things to hurt people, not to help them."

With a shaky breath and a hard swallow, she prepared herself to forward the flashmail she'd been sent to Zan; if he wanted to see it in the first place.

"I... I want to help. S-So I asked how I could and I was given a reply. Do... do you want me to send a copy of what it says to you?"

Zan tensed at the feel of her hand, like he too expected some stinging blow to accompany the guilt he felt. Deep down, he believed what he was doing was right, but it didn't do much to fend away the surface thoughts of treachery. The moment he relaxed at her touch, however, all those fears seemed to kind of...drift. They weren't abandoned, no, but they suddenly seemed distant, like they weren't such a big deal anymore. Her words only made them ebb further and further out, something that brought that shadowed smile back to his lips once more. Why could she do that to him? It wasn't love, not in the romantic sense. It was something else, something he couldn't identify.

Something he thanked God for.

The last of her words were nodded at, the werewolf composing himself from his brief lapse of sentamentality. He couldn't afford that right now. "If you would, yes." His smiled broadened then, a strong hand coming to pat her affectionately on the head. "And thank you for believing me." Another stop. "As for what you could do to help, all I can think of is, well, helping me uphold my bargain with him. When I get the instructions, the field coordinates, I might just ask you to help me sway the group to follow. And..." The next words were spoken with shielded humor, like he expected the whole thing to sound ridiculous. "...I don't know, if the time comes where they confront me and find out...it'd just be kind of nice to have you at my back."

At first, she thought she'd royally screwed it up again by reaching out- and felt the relief rush through her at the slight smile on his face. Hope burst in anew, a cautious, delicate hope that brought a small, shy smile of her own out, especially when his hand patted her head. Busily preparing the flashmail and sending it off to him to read and look over.
To: Sekai
From: Marionette
RE: (none)

thE tableT waS yourS tO finD sO thaT I mighT seE youR minD yeT deepeR. aS foR thE otheR commenT, speaK tO thE wolF. telL hiM yoU knoW oF thE tokeN. yoU musT helP hiM iN hiS contracT iF yoU sO choosE tO inquirE. bewarE. nonE shalL bE alloweD tO knoW yoU speaK tO hiM oF thiS.
Something puzzled her about the thanks she'd received, reflecting in her expression as she tilted her head a little to one side. "Why wouldn't I believe you? I don't... um," She fidgeted in place for a moment before continuing. "I don't see you as someone who lies." The solemn idea of the rest of the Freedom Fighters turning on him, attacking him and possibly seeing him as an enemy didn't sit well with her, sending nausea through her stomach at the very thought and image created in her mind. "They... they don't know the circumstances though!"

It just burst out of her in a rush, more heated than she'd intended and heat flushing her face, brightening her eyes as the frustration rose to the surface. "That's not fair to judge someone when they don't know anything about why they did it. It's just... that's just, Something that looked kind of like a scowl that looked more indignant than anything kind of anger on her face. "...stupid and ignorant." The girl managed to bite out. Sekai looked up at him, indignant determination on her face as she nodded firmly and had both hands in fists in her own show of decisiveness. "If they're going to be rude and mean about someone trying to help, they'll have to go through me first! I may be small but, I can still do a little damage, especially from a distance and they'll have to approach from that distance too."

The lycanthrope paused to read the Flashmail, what little confirmation he needed given to him in its contents. As she began to speak, he leaned against the nearbye wall, finding himself both pitying and admiring how unable she was to grasp the irrationality of the human animal. High stress situations like this inspired loss of logic and unpredictable desires to find an enemy - even if it was amongst them. As she began to finish, he found his smile filling with more and more mirth, something he tried to quell to keep what little image he had...and failed. It was hard not to smile around her. Not wanting her to think he was mocking her with the smile, however, he finally stifled it, a nod given.

"It is stupid and ignorant. Phoenix isn't exactly known for his wisdom, Hacorie is itching for an excuse to get his ass kicked, and Senna probably has it out for me because I called her out on her mistake with Devil." Zan shrugged. "But what do I have to worry about? I have a strong-as-hell Archer watching my back now, the rest of them be damned." The final sentence held not humor, not even an ounce of jest, but pure sincerity. He really and truly believed in the might that stirred quietly within her, like Nulus' panthers, waiting to strike at those deserving.

When it came to unfamiliar people that she hadn't managed to make some conversation with... Sekai wasn't really all that good with names. Senna-san she knew as the other Long Arm, the female one with the hair that almost looked like her actual hair color outside of the game, Hacorie-san... she didn't know who he was and that frankly embarrassed her, and Phoenix-san... had to be the one with the, err, um... phoenix that followed him around. Her eyes lit up at that particular collection and, with a bit of pride in her voice at finally recognizing who Phoenix-san was.

"So that was the scary angry man with red hair's name who nearly ran me over back when I first came to the hideout's name! I can't believe I didn't draw that connection before."

She reminded herself that there was a serious discussion going on and that she should return to it instead of being pleased with committing a new name to memory. Sekai blushed at the compliment directed at her Archer's abilities and shook her head, instinctive and near beaten in humility kicking in and reminding her of her place and of what she was.

"I-I'm not that good yet. Rayo-san is stronger than me but, um, thank you for regarding me so kindly."

She bowed, as was customary, in thanks before a rather solemning thought hit her as she was reminded about the Devil-san... and of Angel-san as well.

"...they're going to kill Angel-san too, even if she asks us to spare her life like Devil-san did in the end, aren't they?"

Sekai asked quietly, as if she already knew what the expected answer would be.

Zan waved away her humility with a dismissive gesture of his hand. "Don't be so humble, mei lumen. You are an amazing asset to this team. It isn't all about flashy hacks. You've got a good heart and blatant knowledge of tactics. That's more than we could hope for." As for the question... "I believe so, yes. I know you might like me less for saying this, but unless she promises us information about Marionette or something in return for sparing her...I won't exactly be against ending her life. I've been around with the Freedom Fighters for a while now and, well, I've learned that the bad guys - and she is that - always make you regret letting them go in some way or another. She'd only hunt us later, especially after Marionette's defeat. Him...we will also have to kill. He's being passive now, but he does have darker plans for 'The World.' If this were just a game, I'd be right there with you. I admire your unwillingness to take human life...though I'm not sure he is human...and I hope you never lose that quality. That said, this game holds lives in the balance of its own."

The werewolf sighed. "I'm afraid we're in a war, Sekai. It's not pretty. It's not black and white...but it's sure as hell a murkey tone of grey. It's because of this that I almost wish you'd leave. I enjoy your company..." He laughed, short and quick. "...more than I think you know..." And his tone was right back. "...but this thing is going to break down that innocence of yours. It's something you'll miss. Are you ready to give that up for us?"

She was more than a little disheartened about the confirmation, and the admission that he wouldn't mind ending her life if he had to but restrained it for the most part. It... was a war like he said but, how could a war be in stark black and white? Weren't all wars in that murky grey area anyways when you really looked at it?

"I'm... I'm positive that Marionette-san, Devil-san, Angel-san and the...others we have not met but have heard spoken of are human."

Something flickered briefly in her expression.

"AI... aren't capable of this kind of elaborate game... they... they have rules and limitations from my understanding. Humans... humans aren't bound by such rules and limitations."

She looked up at Zan, a slightly pained, wistful smile on her face as she gave an almost helpless movement of her shoulders.

"Even, even if I'm asked to leave or I'm given an opportunity to go back... I can't. There's a reason I have to stay here as I am. And,"

Her voice went shy and quiet again as she fidgetted in place again.

"I like having company I can talk to and be of assistance to."

The mentioning of her innocence brought back the same odd flicker in her expression, an almost pitying and darker look coming into her eyes as she stared off at something to his right before shaking her head and wiping whatever thoughts there were out of her mind and off her face. She covered it with a not quite true smile and an attempt at changing the subject with a rather general response.

"I'm still me, as long as I know myself, I can't lose me, right?"

Zan ignored that darkness, ignored everything else that showed on her face (however briefly) because he knew it wasn't quite the time for it. They had a job to do. The deep emotional stuff could wait for later. "I will pray for that to be true, mei lumen. We should move on, though, mm? Doors to be unlocked." A parting pat on her head, he turned away, giving enough pause it in to allow a stop from her if she had something else to say.

She blinked at the pat on her head, believed... or chose to believe anyway, that she'd successfully to supress what had gone through her mind with a sense of surprise and pride that she was getting better about hiding her feelings from showing on her face. Maybe she wouldn't be such an open book anymore and could get a really good poker face out of this whole experience.

...there was that term again and this time, since there was nothing else besides the residing curiosity of what was behind the door, she could definitely ask what on earth that meant and that other question she had in mind. She took two steps to catch up and stay near his side, no use in waiting around for people who, well, hadn't been very nice to begin with for the most part and looked up at him.

"What does that mean? Um, how do you say it again... that thing I think you called me two or three times by now?"

Sekai's eyes landed on the sleeve of his jacket, eyes squinting a little in the lighting as she tried to look for the odd things again and looked back up at Zan again.

"Oh! and is it just the lighting or did I really see some symbols or some kind of design on your jacket?"

Zan paused at her words, turning back around without agitation. "It means..." He laughed, his own face flushing with a slight tone of color. "It means 'my light' in Latin. You...kind of...ha. I don't know how to explain it. You make the wolf in me a little calmer."

He was overjoyed at her second question, glad to be able to move past it. "There are symbols, yes. They...they mark me as the Shadow's warden and the Alpha of a dead pack." It was obvious it was a touchy subject, his hood being drawn up to hide his face at its mentioning. "Now really...we should go." And this time he didn't stop for her, didn't do anything but walk away from a memory he'd just as soon forget.

Huh, she didn't really draw a connection between the nickname and her being around him but, maybe if she thought about it enough, it'd come to her in a flash of insight that she'd probably kick herself for later on for not understanding. The wolf in him? Then again, he had that special ability or something like that to figure out where people were and he seemed to know when she was around regardless or could decipher her mumbling no matter what volume so... maybe that 'hacks' thing had something to do with his sense of hearing and such being enhanced to a wolf's degree? That was another thing to think about and keep herself occupied and out of trouble for a little while, same with the reason he'd drawn his hood up. Had she said something wrong when she'd asked her question?

Sekai watched him walk away, making up her mind and scurrying after to catch up with him without so much as a glance behind her. She hadn't known she was such a... people person before, but... maybe because she didn't have the familiar presence always with her this time... it made her realize that, without someone there, she was lonely and severely disliked being alone.

Hopefully she wasn't making herself into a pest by attaching herself and following Zan around like she was currently doing.
Image

Name: Sekai
Level: 54
EXP: 0000/1000
Class: Archer
Clan: Army of Darkness
HP: 835
SP: 347

Currently Equipped:

Einherjar: Kira, December, Zorya

Head: Bat Earrings (Ola Repth 40, Rip Maen 40)
Body: Saint Cross (Rue Zot 10, RaJuk Zot 30)
Arm: Protect Ring (Ap Vorma 15, MeJuk Kruz 20)
Leg: Ninja Anklet (BiVak Rom 20, GiGan Zot 30)
Add-Ons: Forestlore, Wood Magic (permanently raised Wood Offense/Defense by +3 total)

Wishlist: Levels, Summon: Wood, Archer Weapons, Light Armor

User avatar
Lighteria
Well-Oiled Machine
Posts: 176
Joined: Fri Oct 01, 2004 12:59 am
Location: :noitacoL

Post by Lighteria » Wed Oct 17, 2007 11:44 am

There's something to be said about accomplishing something. The are times, especially in battle, when Lighteria has a tendency to feel less than useful. After all, even though being trapped inside the game affords them all a certain modicum of extra power, Lighteria is still relatively weak when you compare him to the others... at least in his mind. When it's a group effort to take down a powerful enemy it's sometimes hard to determine ones relative worth to the fight. Being naturally pessimistic about his own abilities, the timid twin blade tends to err on the side of weakness when trying to judge his relative worth to a fight, in his mind at least. While this doesn't do a whole lot for his self esteem, it does do wonders for motivation... usually. This time though it provides a very good excuse for not participating in the battle at all period. This could be bad, but again relative worth is hard to judge in battle and in THIS instance at least, having created something tangible and real has very definite worth, at least to Lighteria.

Which is probably why he's so giddy.

"Mew... Meow meow mew mew meow... Mew mew meow meow mew mew meow... (Oy... I know I should be happy he's happy... But his bouncing and grinning is getting on my nerves...)" Kit mutters quietly, lifting a paw against her ear to relieve a momentary itch. The nap on Nighthand's lap had been relatively good... 6/10 at least, not the most comfortable lap but still has potential... Regardless, the nap will have to end, Lighteria's antics need to be trimmed if there's hope for his typical endless fawning in the near future. With this in mind, she reluctantly leaves the heavy blade's lap and scurries over to the work table where Lighteria admires his work.

This is definitely some kind of alcohol, but it's still a potion... Oh wow! Maybe she was making Noble Wine!! That would be awesome! That's a really powerful potion! ...Though... No, it can't be just that. Why would she need to experiment with potion ingredients if she was just making a standard consumable? This is probably something similar but different... some kind of restorative... Maybe for mana only? ...Nah, doesn't quite fit the bill with that... Maybe it-

"Lights." Kit suddenly says, now sitting on the table with her typical dignified pose, tail curling past her paws. Being talked to in English startles the twin blade out of his thoughts and he blinks, looking down to the gray tabby cat.

"Oh hey Kit." He says, a surprised look on his face but a calm voice. "What's wrong?"

"Mew meow meow mew mew meow mew mew meow mew MEW meow. Mew... (I can't help but notice that all this potion making is distracting you from some VERY important business. Namely...)"

Now what Kit was ABOUT to say was "Namely giving me a belly rub", however her words are cut short when the door cracks an Zan's head pops in. The kitten and the twin blade both look to the door in surprise.

"Glad to see you two have decided to be productive while we've twiddled our thumbs with Angel."
He says, moving to leave but shooting a final glance. "We have the key. We're moving onto the next floor. Feel free to join us."

Even with only seeing his face for a second or two, Lighteria could tell he was ticked off. As Zan leaves the room, Lighteria's stomach starts knotting up with guilt.

"Wow... you're right Kit." Lighteria says to his kitten, a clear sense of disappointment with himself echoing through his speech. "I really did let myself get distracted from what's important." He looks to the floor. "I screwed up big time... I could have done some real good."

Lighteria's voice trails off. As it happens, Kit opens her mouth to try and correct him but quickly forces herself to run through the costs and benefits of such a correction seeing as how she's not entirely sure how she feels about NOT being the proponent of teamwork and responsibility and instead being the voice of belly rubs. Both are very important after all. As she weighs this in her head and Lighteria looks to the flask with a clear feeling of guilt, Nighthand stands and leaves the room appearing to be taking things in stride as he often does. The door closes shut and Lighteria turns his head towards the door, looking almost through it.

"...I guess there's no sense moping... We're moving ahead and I'd better join them." He says quietly, heading towards the door, the finished flask in his hand. Kit shakes her head and leaps off the table, following at his left side. With his head hung, the twin blade reaches for the door knob. As he does though, a familiar black and white checker board pattern suddenly forms in front of his eyes. He blinks once and lifts his head, finding himself suddenly staring at Angel's face... who is staring back at him. There's a brief pause while the situation clicks in Lighteria's head. Once it does, he shrieks and jumps in surprise, falling to the floor, landing unceremoniously onto his kiester, the corked flask making a brief spin on its way down into his lap.

"Careful. Wouldn't want you to spill anything."

"It's you-!" He says, looking up.

I figured the others had killed her! What's she doing here?!! Is she going to kill me?! No no... that's silly. If she was going to attack me, she'd have done it by now. And she's being cordial again...

"S-sorry." He manages to stammer out, rising to his feet despite his shaking knees. "Just.. er... surprised."

"As well you should be. Your team has scored it's first victory against me, but you took no part in it. Instead... you've been doing me a favor." She says, making Lighteria's gut clench tighter and his face pale, guilt coming even easier now. Clearly he'd messed up big time if he'd helped the boss the team was trying to defeat.

"Ah-... that... I mean... I didn't want to hurt you-..." He stammers, realizing he's about to list off excuses to someone who doesn't actually care. As his voice trails trying to find words he's suddenly struck with a question... "Wait, what favor?" Not surprisingly, she points to the flask in his hand.

"That. I was working on it when your party arrived, and wasn't able to finish my testing. I was watching your process... erratic, but exceptional. You have a talent, if not the training." Lighteria clutches the flask tighter as she talks.

Well that clears up any doubt that it was hers... and that I finished it. ...But talent? Who me? Nice of her to say I guess...

"I.. ah... ...well thank you! I think... I thought you'd be mad I messed with stuff... ..." He trails off, completely unsure of what on earth he could say in response to that. Speaking with people is hard enough, but taking praise from a boss is confusing as heck. What does a person SAY in this situation? " ...Really? Talent?"


"Yes, talent indeed. Of course, if you left with that potion, you would be stealing my possessions. I'm sure you don't want that... so I've come to offer you a deal that would be to our mutual benefit." As she finishes, Lighteria pales again, realizing he WAS about to steal her stuff, if thoughtlessly. The prospect of a deal also flashes big Traitor signs in his head; the poor twin blade tightens his grip on the flask, not wanting to steal but also not wanting to help.

"I wouldn't-... I mean... we wouldn't have even had a fight if... well.. people didn't..." His voice cracks, unable to keep up with his own thoughts. "But I'm not saying-! I mean.. er..." Realizing he's going nowhere, he asks the only thing he can think of. "...What .. deal?" Angel smirks.

"You give me the potion back, and tell me how you figured out the proper ingredients to make it. In return, I give you one of my alchemical tools. The mortar and pestle is fitting for one of your skill level, and I've found little use of it in recent times."

Is... she serious? What would I do with a mortar and pestle?! ...Well... besides grind things up I guess. No, I can't possibly take this deal, can I? I mean, she's the enemy! ...Right? I can't just give her what she asks! ...Right? I mean... sure we might not have had to fight at ALL if people had been more careful and respectful... But... Damn it, I'm part of this team... thing... and I can't just give in like that. Even if it's stealing, I have to take some sort of stand!

Breaking out of his thoughts, his chest lightly puffs, trying to act brave as he speaks to her even though his voice is cracking again. "D-don't get me wrong... I'm flattered... but... I'm part of the team here... you'd... have to assure me you won't use this against us as well."

"Use what against you? A single potion I could just as easily take from you right now? I can't even use my lab without one of your team barging in and ruining my work if they found me. I'm offering you a chance to improve yourself AND stay in my good graces."

TAKE it from me!? ...Ugh... I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, if I kept it I'd be a thief. Still, I thought things could be better between us... I guess not.

"I won't.. give in easily." He looks up at her, with a bit of a sad look. "I would be nice to be on good terms with you... And... that's why I'll take the deal." He swallows, thoughts racing again. "But... you know that if you really do try and stop us... not just retribution for lost money, but really fighting us... well... I guess it'd be a waste, huh?" He lifts the potion up towards her, grasping it only lightly.

"It's not a waste unless you die. I guess you'll just have to avoid that, won't you?" The potion disappears suddenly, the mortar and pestle appearing in its place. Lighteria panics and scrambles with his hands to grab it before it falls to the floor, which he manages to do. "Put it to good use."

"As for making the potion..." Lighteria starts out as he fumbles with the tool, fulfilling the other part of the deal. "it.. well.... it was.. probably a fluke." He says honestly.

"Probably. Yet you still made it. I know the ingredients and the process, but out of everything on the shelves, why did you pick what you did?" Hearing this, Lighteria blushes, a little embarrassed.

"Oh.. that... well... It.. had the right consistency for the potion at the time... ...Plus the name.. kinda grabbed me."

"Instinct... fascinating. Unfortunately, not something I can replicate. Was there more?"

"Well... " He tightens his teeth suddenly as he tries to get the wording right and his own logic worked out. "If figure.. you can just poof normal potions into existence.. hacking and all that... So if you were making something beyond hacking.. well.. again, just sounded right."

"Well done. Well done indeed. Now begone with you, lest your team become suspicious. I have other business to attend to."

With that, she disappears, leaving Lighteria blinking at the empty space in front of him, still clutching the smooth stone bowl. He swallows, realizing that she was right, people will most likely be suspicious if they found out about this, even though there's no mal intent. That in mind, he slips the item into his inventory and heads out the door, deciding it would be a good idea to stay quiet and follow the group. Fortunately that's what he's best at.

Of course Kit, having gotten bored with the conversation around "wasn't able to finish my testing", has long since slipped out of the room, searching for someone to pet her back. Maybe that archer with the comfy lap? That one was a 9/10, for sure.
Lv. 37 Twin Blade (180 SP)
Weapon: Rashou (Thunder Coil- 30, Suvi Lei- 20, Mumyn Lei- 30) (Life Drain)
Armor: Holy Tree Mail (Juk Kruz- 20) - Scarab Earring (La Repth- 20, Rip Maen- 40) - Time Sandals (Ap Do- 15) - Forest Gloves (Juk Kruz- 20)
GP: 14384

Wish list (In order of priority): Angel halo accessory, chibi angel wings, Bone Armor, Professional

Lighteria: "Obsessively updating my profile since Fri Oct 01, 2004 7:10 pm"

User avatar
Zhao Xun
Elevated Player
Posts: 63
Joined: Fri May 12, 2006 3:09 am
Location: Wherever I'm needed.

Post by Zhao Xun » Thu Oct 18, 2007 6:02 am

Thank goodness.

Round one of what seemed like it would be a hellish encoutner was finally over, and I felt nothing but relief. I may have been less than useful in all our endeavors, and I may have looked the fool due to my flashmail, but in the end we had survived, and that was the most important part. I had managed to pull a suicide run and get out alive, which made me feel slightly better about the whole thing. Sure, her strike had hurt, but... I would be ok.

I retrieved my thrown blade before taking stock of those around me, and as I was doing so, I felt the healing wind of a La Repth spell sew the wound in my side up as though it had never been there. I took a deep breath, glad to be free of the pain Angel had caused me, and smiled. We'd made it over yet another hurdle. The will of the group to press forward regardless of whatever obstacles stood in our way never ceased to amaze me. Even without Nighthand, we did just fine. Hell, Zan had handled Nighthand's leadership position just fine. The werewolf had certainly become more and more impressive since I'd first met him. And for that, he deserved my thanks.

I approached Zan with a smile on my face. "Hey, just wanted to say... sorry for not believing in you guys, and thanks for saving our asses back there. For the umpteenth time."

The werewolf didn't turn to face me but offered up a half-hearted shrug. "I don't need thanks."

My smile faltered a little, but remained in place. "But even if you don't need them, you deserve them. Without you... well, we wouldn't be here, I'm pretty sure. I know I'd be dead for sure, and, well... I'm just trying to say, I appreciate what you do for us. Which is a ton. So... yeah." I shifted my weight back and forth for a moment, but kept smiling.

Zan remained quiet long enough that I questioned whether or not he was going to respond, but finally he piped up what seemed like a sincere response, despite the fact that he still wouldn't look at me. "Welcome."

That was good enough for me. I decided to give him his space, and moved off, ready to move on when the rest of the group was.
Zhao's Profile

Wishlist:
Levels
Slayers
Other level 16+ Twin Blade Weapons
Cougar Bandanna
Snow Panther
Level 16+ Twin Blade Armor

Miakita hazu no tasogare ga
Konna ni kirei dato naita

Raquar
Ikkitousen
Posts: 108
Joined: Tue Apr 10, 2007 8:28 pm
Location: Hiding in the shadows

Post by Raquar » Thu Oct 18, 2007 11:15 pm

Miss Angel was quite the acrobat. She didn’t settle for dodging or parrying there attacks, she had to do so in style. Flips, twists, she was a freaking gymnast in the air. The Long Arm thought he might have been able to strike her, the target in question having just oriented herself, yet it was not so. Demonstrating incredible upper body strength, she leveraged herself up into the ceiling by solely her blade. He swore as she dropped down, backing away from the woman. That was until, he couldn’t back away any more.

The entirety of the room was bathed in a golden luminescence. For a split moment, it reminded him of a field a while ago, where he had experienced a similar flash. That one however had been accompanied with the knowledge and wisdom of the universe. This was coupled with the simple being of coherency. He stood confused for a moment, before Angel spoke and once again vanished. They were done, for now. The light receded and once again the group was able to move. Bit by bit they slowly filtered through the door, emerging back onto the first floor of the mansion. The boy distanced himself from the others slightly. He felt drastically out of place.

With the exception of Zhao, he was the lowest leveled one here, the least experienced, the weakest. That was evident in the last fight, his ability to be absolutely useless shining through in outstanding brilliance. Was it that he was too weak? Did he need more training? Was he lacking in experience? What was it that so separated him from the others? Maybe it was a team cohesiveness that they all seemed to share. Something he discovered he was almost afraid to become a part of. He had that once. That feeling, the bond of friendship and cooperation. He had been part of a group. The Eventide Crescendo. His best friend. He hung his head at that thought, wondering how exactly Tiral was fairing. What was it like to be trapped as giant flaming monster? What was it like to know that one of your better friends had made the choice to trap him there?

That was why he was here. To get stronger. He made an oath, not only for him, but for Raven, for Nemera, for all those that suffered in the EC now because of his decision. He had to. That was his one major attachment to this place. No, wait. There was another. A certain individual, who now like him, was comatose, trapped into this video game, in what could be a hellish prison at times. Her to. The two of them, probably his two best friends in The World, and there they were, trapped in their own methods of confinement, and it was his fault. But gone were the days of pity and self-loathing, instead it was replaced by a fury of sorts. A quiet fury, one that made him vow to never be useless again. One that by necessitation, would force him to become better and stronger. Until he reached a point, where he could free those two people. And from then on, he would be free.

There was no sense in brooding over it now. The next phase was beginning soon, and he mounted the stairs to the second level of the mansion. This would be a test. And he would pass, there should be no reason for him not to. He should be able to prove himself. So what of the level discrepancy? There had to be a talent he could contribute, something he could provide for the group. It was just up to him to find it.
Level 28 Long Arm
Archspear, Newt Necklace, Smith's Gloves, Wyrm Scale, Kuja's Thong Dress
EXP: [700/1000]

WISHLIST
Levels
Weapons: - All
Armor: Head - Scarab Earring
Body - Nothing until Mid 30's. Ninja Garb Hand - Nothing until Mid 30's. Leg - Nothing until Mid 30's.
Items: Cooked Biles, Darkness Scrolls (Any and All)

Hacorie
Ikkitousen
Posts: 105
Joined: Thu Sep 30, 2004 11:30 pm
Location: Here and there.
Contact:

Post by Hacorie » Sat Oct 20, 2007 1:21 am

Did it really just happen? Had everything just ended right as the battle had truly begun? It was unimaginable to say the least. The one striking key factor to everything was the person who stopped the battle so quickly: it was Zan. The cocky beast had once again proven his prowess in physical combat. He was becoming the main powerhouse of the entire group. He was soon going to rival Nighthand for power. It was all quite intriguing to say the least: after all, Zan was only a level lower that Hac, but for the brief minutes in which time froze, Hac felt…as if he was the weaker link of the two. One true key factor shoved Hac’s thoughts back into normal perspective though: Hac had never truly given his all outside of dueling. How was he to know how far his power and strength had evolved? Until the time came in which Zan and Hac met with blades en garde, the true answer would remain hidden within the depths of alternate realities.

Until that time comes

…I wonder if it will be soon?


Once again, the recurring thought of dueling with Zan could not leave Hac’s mind. Fate had to be telling Hac something; that had to be the answer, and his interpretation of the signs was: “You two will fight…”. No matter how much Hac did not want to seriously battle against a comrade, no matter how ‘unmoronic’ the opponent was, the Heavy Blade dressed in blue knew it would come to fruition. The two personalities the two character’s possessed were not similar in most regards, but they also were not different. It was simple to see that Zan was more outgoing than Hac, but then again, Hac acted on his own will at points without really dwelling too much on the aftershocks: Case and point being how Zan tore up the trophy room. He did it, in Hac’s eyes, without fully fathoming the true consequences. Same goes for Hacorie: He and Senna destroyed Devil. Maybe if the two defiant Freedom Fighters would have been able to see the future yelling session, they would not have gone against most of the other’s decisions.

All the thought of the business with Zan made Hacorie stray off subject a small bit. His mind began to wander as he opened his Flashmail box. Not one message from the Heavy Blade dissenter. Hac knew that he had sent his findings to Zan via Flashmail. Hacorie knew, by conclusions drawn from Marionette’s own Flashmails that Zan was a true Benedict Arnold. The boy had created treason against the unwritten code of the Freedom Fighters. He had allied himself with Marionette: the current rival of the group. Even though there was still a large chance Marionette was just playing mind games, Hac could not shake the fact that the puppet master was actually telling the truth. After all, so far the one pulling the strings had not once lied to the Freedom Fighters(that Hac could see anyway). Of course now that a reply was not noticed from the other high level Heavy Blade, Hac’s internal balance shifted even more toward believing Marionette completely. Maybe Zan was trying to ignore the fact that he had been discovered. Maybe the Flashmail did not send. Maybe Zan disregared the mail from the 'stupid' character who sent it. Who really knew? In a logical sense however, Hac still had the utmost notion tha Zan’s protective actions toward the group proved his loyalty. Everything was so twisted...the truth was hidden somewhere in the jungle of clues.

After snapping out of his wandering thoughts, the Heavy Blade found himself near the new location of the group: the locked door. Everyone had congregated on said door: waiting to head on to the next level of the mansion. It was interesting how one could be zoned out into a subconscious state, and the body still moves and functions as if the person was paying attention to the physical world around.

After a bit of time with unseen circumstances involving certain characters of the group, the locked door was unlocked and the staircase leading upward was now visible by the team. Who knew what the Freedom Fighters would see on floor two. Maybe their eyes would get to glare upon Angel and her pet once more. Of course, maybe even Marionette would come in a physical form to the group: that way Hac finally can place a face with the puppet master’s handle. All were just purely speculation, but maybe at least one of the conclusions would come true….then again….maybe both of the expressions would come out false. Maybe a higher evil was lurking in the shadows of the hub…if so…The group would soon find out.

Oh what lies beyond the staircase to heaven?
Hacorie
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237

Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama

Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls

User avatar
Nighthand
Master of Games
Posts: 1265
Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
Class: Bladesmage
Location: ...Tracking...please wait...

Post by Nighthand » Sat Oct 20, 2007 6:22 am

One by one the group left the scene of the battle and proceeded to the now-unlocked final exit doors. The key, when used in one of the two doors, unlocked the other. Behind each was an identical, but mirrored, scene. Stairs spaced evenly and carved out of rock led upwards towards the center of the mansion. Climbing to the top of the dimly-lit staircase revealed the source of the light; a cracked wooden door. Not cracked open; a large crack ran through the thick aged oak of the door, though which a soft golden light leaked. It was as though the sheer age of the door had cracked it. The staircase was cool, exposed to the elements more than the rest of the mansion. It was also dusty, dingy, and altogether reeked of disuse. Angel, apparently, had no need for the stairwell, and so didn’t keep it up.

The door was not locked, and swung easily on its hinges without a noise. The mass made it slow to open, and when it was finally pushed aside, warm light bathed the stairwell.

What was revealed at the top was a library. Their path was lined by twin bookcases, easily eight feet tall in a room no more than ten feet high. The shelves were lined with books, completely varied in color, shape, and size. The titles were as random as the books that held them, everything from Cooking with Mad Grass to The Iliad. There was no order to the books; no Dewey decimal system, no alphabetical order. Whatever system they were sorted on, it wasn’t something they would be able to figure out. The light came from the end of each book case, where a small oil lamp burned.

Across from them as they exited the door was a long, large table with four massive books space equally across it. Their titles were impossible to see, and the sheer weight of the books would make it hard, if not impossible, to lift the massive volumes long enough to glimpse it. Each was easily four feet tall and three wide, opened to a seemingly random page near the middle. To either side of the table were large candelabras, each holding 21 candles in a cross pattern, their flames burning higher than those of the oil lamps. They were the source of the majority of the light in the room.

Each book was bound in leather, the pages a thick parchment. The ink was a deep, rich blue, slightly faded with age on the yellowed pages. In each along the spine lay a thick leather bookmark with a medallion hanging on the end of it.

To either side of the long room were doors identical to those below, save lacking in numbers. Simple and wooden, they served their purpose well enough. What hallway was beyond was closed off to them as yet.

Upon exploration, what hallway lay beyond proved to be very similar to what lay below. A similar layout, save for two looping hallways that dead-ended where their entrance to the library had been. Two doors were unlocked and led into short hallways that, in turn, led to two locked doors each. Additionally, in the main hallway, a single locked door presented itself.

The two rooms to the East side of the hall had small circular holes in them, with raised symbols in the middle of them. The Northeast room was marked by a starburst symbol. The southeast was similarly marked, but with the pattern of a crescent moon. On the other side, the west side, of the floor, the doors also had the same sort of holes and symbols. Northwest was a wavy-edged circle, a sun to follow the cosmology, while the southwest was marked with a simple plus-sign shape.

In the library, the bookmarks proved to have matching shapes missing from their circular medallions.
Sun Book wrote: It was a grand ball. The king and queen had arranged a party like none other to be seen in all the land. It was their daughter’s first, after all, and they wished to make it as special as it could be. The ballroom was radiant. Elegant glass lanterns lit the room from every few paces along the walls, while three great chandeliers held hundred of lit candles, leaving little room for shadow. Hundreds of guests packed the room. Most of them were nobles from the kingdom, dressed in radiant attire, fit only for such an occasion. Many had not had a chance to wear such finery since the recent coronation of their king. Gowns of all colors, many-piece suits for the lords and princes, and resplendent jewelry decked every form. The king was splendid in his crown and regal uniform, watching the affair with a proud eye. He had been crowned late, and his only daughter was to be their only heir. His eyes were filled with tears of pride, tears he refused to let fall. The queen was splendid in her golden gown, ivory-white gloves protecting her dainty hands. Her hair was done up magnificently in all its coppery glory, jeweled hairpins holding it all in place. Still, each was but a pauper in the presence of their daughter, Emerine.

Her form was dazzling, and all who saw her gave her looks of praise and admiration. She was known as the most beautiful in all the land, and her glory was unmatched. Her hands were covered similarly to her mothers, and her gown was equally golden, and yet all would say if asked that it was her mother who copied the look. Her hair, as splendidly red as her mothers, was let free to cascade around her pale shoulders. Her skin was white as freshly fallen snow, and her lips as red as the berries of holly. Her eyes were blue as the midday sky, matching the sapphires she wore around her neck.

Soon, soon now, and it would be time. The party was in her honor, and his; the man she had yet to meet. The man she would meet tonight. The man known as Prince Miloban, a noble of some great stature from their nearby neighbor kingdom. The man she was to marry, and hopefully, to love. The collective intake of breath rushing across the room was accompanied by the ringing announcement of the herald. Prince Miloban, here to meet the lady Princess Emerine. It was time to meet him, at last.
Star Book wrote: She sighed, leaning on the balcony rail of her suite. The only room in the castle in which she could be alone, well and truly alone. No servant would bother her here, if she asked it of them. Only her mother had the right of passage to enter as she pleased, and even she would respect her daughter’s wishes if she so wished. Tonight, she so wished.

The banquet had been a success, as far as anyone was concerned, but she wasn’t as happy as she would have liked. The Prince had been charming, no doubt, but something about him rang false. She sighed again, looking up at the moon high above her. It was so bright and clear, tonight, it looked as if she could reach out and touch it, take it down and string it on a thread to wear about her neck. She reached out, her fingers brushing the sky, wishing she could do such a thing.

A strain of music from below startled her, and she drew back her hand with a gasp. Her eyes strained, looking through the courtyard below, but she could see nothing. Too many trees blocked too much of the courtyard from her sight to see who played. The music continued, and she listened, forgetting that it meant someone was in her courtyard. Forgetting that it was imprudent for anyone to look upon her in her nightgown, retreated as she was to her room for the evening. She listened to the unearthly strains of music and forgot herself, as her mind was taken on a journey of the imagination.

She saw scenes of a country the likes of which she had never seen before. Her own kingdom was one of lush forests and deep rivers, green and blue wherever the eye could see. What she saw now was a land of oceans and sand, the border between too much water and too little. The people were dressed in ways she couldn’t picture in her own land, garish colors and patterns unlike any she had seen before. Everything was new and different, and she was swept through the land as though on the back of a great eagle, viewing what could only be the kingdom of Prince Miloban.

The music ended, and so did her imagination. No words were spoken, but her own will of gratitude was cast so radiant on her moonlit face that the watcher below could not hope to miss it. A smile on her face, she turned and retired to her bed.
Moon Book wrote: The day was bright and new, the sun inching itself over the horizon. The king was dressed in his finest riding gear, as was the prince beside him. Today was the day of the hunt, and it would be a fine day, he could smell it on the air. No weather would spoil this day.

Today would be a day of bonding, and a day of bartering, between himself and the proposing prince. They would be bonding as friends, and as a possible father to son, but that relation was not set in stone. While it was their intent, the intent of both himself and the father of the prince whose presence he now would spend the day with, to unite the kingdoms through marriage… It still came down to personal relations. The king was not such a tyrant that he would marry his daughter to a man he did not trust, did not like. As yet, the prince had not set well with him. Perhaps that would change, over the day.

His horse was brought to him, a magnificent steed fit for the king. He stood tall, his chestnut coloring deep and lustrous. The saddle and bridle were gleaming, and the king, satisfied, mounted. A moment later, the price's page arrived on the horse he had brought from his own country, the steed he had ridden all the way here. A mare as black as night, calm and of fine temperament for riding in the hunt. She would serve her rider well, that much was certain.

The party had saddled up behind them, their weapons at the ready, though they well knew game would likely to be scarce. Today they hunted the white stag, the fabled master of their forest. Never before had one been slain, though often the hunting parties would catch sight of the beast. Giving chase, while merry and a wonderful way to spend the day, never resulted in a catch.

The king loosed his sword at his belt, making sure it was ready to draw at a moment’s notice. Whether he would draw it for the death of the stag, or draw it for a battle with a treacherous prince, he did not know. He was not dim enough to go unprepared for treachery, however. He knew too well the stories of princes killing kings on the traditional hunt, to weaken their daughters for marriage with grief. He would not be a victim.
Cross Book wrote: It was a merry day, a merry day indeed. Today was the day of the proposal, and Emerine was nervous. She knew now that the music she had heard was Miloban’s, a song native to his homeland, known for the emotions it was able to inspire in all who listened. He himself had been just as lost in its performance as she had been. She had found this out talking to him much later in the week. The prince was a man of few words, which had put her ill at ease initially, but she knew now it was not from any illness that he did not speak. He held his tongue because that was his nature. His mind held a fabulous wit and a cunning mind, the mind of a great king.

It was dinner, and a great feast had been prepared. Fowl and game from the hunt had been prepared for all who would attend, which seemed to be most of the kingdom. Nobles from across the land, and even some from Miloban’s homeland, sat at the table. Miloban himself had a place next to Emerine, while her father and mother sat across from her. The head of the table was left empty, though set and served as would any other place. It was a tradition of her people for the great feasts to be celebrated with one extra place. That was the place for their first great king, said to still be watching over them all.

Miloban rose and the table silenced, and he presented a bottle to the king. The bottle was wine from his homeland, he said, saved only for the best of occasions. The vintage was sweet and ancient, from a land that had been their capital before the desert had claimed its arable land. He poured a glass for the king and the queen, and one for the princess. The glass for himself he filled as well, though he did not touch it. Again, a tradition, and none questioned it. Instead he lifted a goblet of the local wine in toast with the royal family.

To good live, to merry days, and to prosperous harvests. To every blessing and good tiding and cheer. To each god and goddess of each land he could name, the toast was raised to. By the end the goblets were drained, and the feast was begun. It was interrupted once more, however, by the prince. He pushed back his chair and knelt at the side of the princess, looking into her eyes, and she knew before he moved what her answer would be.
-------------ooc:
Feel free to make up titles of other books in the library. Sorry for the delay in posting, it’s been a long week and I only now was able to finish it. Hopefully it was worth the wait.

Map:
Image
Last edited by Nighthand on Mon Oct 29, 2007 3:20 am, edited 1 time in total.

Phoenix512
Exalted Player
Posts: 304
Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2003 10:42 pm

Post by Phoenix512 » Sat Oct 20, 2007 9:26 pm

Phoenix and the others climbed the stairs to the second floor to find themselves in Angel’s library. The library had various types of books from the real world to something that exists in the World if it was more real. The books on the shelves did not seem that important compared to the four massive books on the table. The blademaster would think that those four books were the key to deduce the objective of this floor but at the same time, he wondered what else is on this floor.

Suzaku, can you read these books for me while I checked out the rest of the floor?

Of course, Kazuma-sama. Be careful.

Will do.

Phoenix exited the library through the western door and began to follow the left wall. He passed up the door on his right and turned left. He walked to the other end of the hallway and passing up the central door and the eastern door before turning left again. The first door he actually tries only opens up to the library and decides to open the eastern door.

After passing through the eastern door, he noticed two sets of doors and tries to open them both but with no success. Phoenix notices a symbol on each of the doors along with a circular hole: a starburst on the northern door and a moon on the southern door. He leaves the eastern hallway and quickly does a pass on the southeastern hallway to find a dead-end with no doors lined on it. The blademaster walks on the central hallway again and tries the central door but was locked. The door had nothing unique on it or to indicate how to open it.

Phoenix walked towards the end of the central hallway in the western hallway and turned left. Once again, he reached a dead-end similar to the southeastern side of the floor earlier. So he tried the western door and managed to open it. He discovered that it was similar to the eastern one he opened earlier and both doors were locked as well along with a symbol and circular hole on each door. The northern door had a wavy sun while the southern door had a cross symbol on it.

After exploring the floor, he returned to the library to update the party on the floor layout and receive information on the four books from Suzaku. Kazuma-sama, after reading the four books, they tell a story about a princess who is about to get engaged to a prince from another kingdom and how the prince try to win the favor from the king. I also note the order of the story by the circular medallions on the bookmarks. It goes from sun, star, moon, and cross.

Thanks Suzaku. I found four locked doors with those exact symbols on them. Anything else?

There is no end to the story. The princess never gave an answer to the prince’s proposal.

Alright then, I’m going to examine the medallions real quick since they might be the key to open those doors.

Phoenix examined the medallions and confirmed that their size will fit into the doors. He decided to tell the others about his findings.

“After exploring the second floor and what my pet told me about the books, this is what I came up with. This floor mirrors itself pretty well. There are five locked doors in the mansion: two to the west, two to the east, and one in the center. The four in the west and east are related to the books while the center has no way to determine how to open it. The west doors have the sun and cross symbols on the doors while the east doors have the star and moon on them. There’s a circular insert in the doors which match the medallions on the bookmarks. With the medallions, we can opened those doors but the question becomes, should we go in order and do each door one by one or split up and deal with all of them at once? I would like to split up and deal with all the doors all at once and get this over with. I’ll go on ahead to the Sun room. If anyone else wants to join, go on ahead.”

The blademaster takes the Sun medallion from the bookmark and proceeds to the western hallway where the Sun room is with Suzaku following him. Once reaching the door, he waits a few moments for anyone else to join him before inserting the medallion into the door. Phoenix decides to switch his weapon back to the Bloody Pain in case Angel was not waiting for them behind that door. He inserts the medallion and waits to see if the door would unlock or not.
Phoenix
Level 48 Blademaster
Equipped Skills: Vak Revolver, Gan Revolver, Dek Vorv, La Repth, Juk Kruz, Rue Kruz, BiVak Rom, GiGan Zot
Other Skills: Rue Kruz, Rip Synk, Rip Saem, Crack Beat, Rue Slash, Ani Slash, Gan Crack, Gan Revolver

Wish List: Phoenix's Fire, Gold Necklace
EX-Spheres: LV 3 - Overdrive, LV 3 - Curative, LV 3 - Elemental Breath

User avatar
Lighteria
Well-Oiled Machine
Posts: 176
Joined: Fri Oct 01, 2004 12:59 am
Location: :noitacoL

Post by Lighteria » Mon Oct 22, 2007 8:26 am

As Lighteria enters the library, Kit following at his heels, the twin blade is somewhat struck by the sight of the bookshelves and oil lamps. As is sometimes the case in video games, the scene is eerily similar to one you woud envision in your head when hearing a story. For this instance, Lighteria is reminded of a very old story he had written after his first visit to the library as a child. The feeling of nostalgia is so strong in overwhelms the twin blade, his face looking like he's fallen into a trance.

As he runs a hand along a bookshelf, staring at the four books that are open on the table, Lighteria suddenly finds himself talking out loud, loud enough for pretty much everyone in the room to hear in fact... NOT something that happens normally.




"This place reminds me of an old story I know..." He starts, staring at the titles of the random books, barely even thinking about people listening in. "A long time ago, back in medieval times there were three friends, a wizard, a priest, and a scholar, who all sought true knowledge. The wizard, a tall man with a brown beard, sought knowledge of the most powerful spell in existence. The priest, an aged man adorned in black robes, sought definitive proof of the gods themselves. The scholar, a young but wise woman, sought enlightenment into the betterment herself and others.

During their travels, the three of them happened upon a small cottage in the woods with an old, dying sorcerer living within. The sorcerer, versed well in the realm of forbidden knowledge, revealed to them the location of an ancient library where it is said all the knowledge in the world is held. Excited with the prospect of finding what they sought for so long, the trio walked into the woods for a day and half until finally catching sight of the tower.

The building was massive, floors upon floors each filled hundreds of bookcases filled completely to the rim with books. Tables and lamps scattered the open floor, the lamps burning lightly with flames that never seemed to fade, piles of books on each table, some left open as though people had left their work open or simply left carelessly without cleaning up. At the back of the structure towered a long, spiral stairwell that reached up to the tallest parts of the library. Surely if there was a book on any subject, it would be stored here.

Excitedly, the three friends hurried off into the library, each of them searching for the knowledge they sought.

The wizard wound up on the fifth floor, having found shelves and shelves full of mystic tomes, forbidden grimoires and simple spell books. Even a few fiction books were wedged in the shelves, telling stories of wizards finally casting the most powerful of spells. Without hesitating, he reached into the shelves and plucked out a single book that told of components and rituals.

The priest made his way to the seventh floor, finding a large bookshelf filled to the brim with holy texts, reverent hymn books and ancient stories on the creation of the world of man. He searched through the books, seeing nearly every religion in existence represented within the titles. He quickly found a book on his deity and sat at the foot of the shelf reading the prayers and history of his god.

The scholar reached the tenth floor of the library before stumbling upon a shelf with a great amalgam of books. Intrigued, she looked through the titles finding them to be a strange mix of different topics. Some books were treatises of the works of good men, others still were broad philosophy books spanning every aspect of human nature, another group seemed to be a large collection of inspirational quotes, topped off with what seemed to be a section of children's stories with moral endings. Unsure where to begin, she took a book at random and sat down at a table with it.

The day quickly turned to night as the three friends read through the books they'd found. Each one crowded around a flickering lamp set on a reading table that littered each floor. The lights were not bright but they still somehow managed to make the books perfectly readable. The wizard eventually found himself sitting next to a large stack of books, each one relevant and each one fascinating. The priest found a similar stack and also read feverously through historical texts and prayer books. The scholar also found herself with a large pile of books, each on a different subject but each brilliant in its own right. The trio eventually spent the entire night reading as though in a trance.

Come morning however, something changed. The scholar awoke at her table, her face having been resting on the pages of a children's story book about a princess who traveled the world. Her eyes hurt from all the reading the previous night, so, having finished the children's story, she closed the book and stood from the table, deciding to check on her friends. As she walked from the table she couldn't help but feel excited about the reading she'd soon come back to. The books were all wonderfully written and she was sure that reading through the rest of them would expand her mind in some way. However, seeing a good chance to stop for the time being, she headed down the steps to the lower floors.

As she walked up to the priest she found him wearing his reading glasses, his old back hunched over a book filled with religious pictures and verses.


"Friend..." She said, walking up to the priest. "Did you find any answers?"

"Not yet." The priest said, looking up only briefly. "But I feel that I will soon. This text has brought me much closer to finding the proof I seek."

Satisfied, the scholar descended the tower again and walked up to her wizard friend.


"Friend..." She said, standing at the tall wizard's side. "Did you find any answers?"

"Not now!" The wizard snapped suddenly at her. "This book has lead me to the cusp of something grand! With this knowledge I'll surely find the spell I seek!"

Satisfied her friends were making progress as she was, the scholar ascended the tower once again to return to her own reading. However as she sat down at her desk she realized she had forgotten where she was in her reading, since her studies were so varied she’d never really set an order. However, assured that the books she had chosen beforehand would provide her with good material, she reached into the pile of books at random and opened a brand new book. At first glance the story seemed to be another children’s story, this one about three good friends who traveled together. Feeling the book was absolutely perfect for her situation she began to read the new book.

As the scholar finished the book, however, a feeling of unease came over her. The book was perfect, it taught a good life lesson that she completely agreed with... in fact every book she had read so far had taught good lessons or talked of good works she felt were necessary. There was not a thing she had disagreed with or felt was a poor lesson. However, she realized long ago that the nature of enlightenment and learning was studying things you do NOT agree with and trying to glean meaning or personal change for the better from them. Thus far, she had found only reinforcement for herself and nothing to the contrary. Having read dozens of books, the feeling of unease grew until she could no longer read her books. Instead, she hurried downstairs to her friends to seek their support.

"My friend..." She said to the priest after descending to his floor. "I am ill at ease for some reason. Do you perhaps have a prayer that may help me?"

"I'm sorry." The priest replied succinctly. "I believe I have found what I have been seeking, I cannot divert my attention right now to give you a different prayer."


Disappointed, the scholar descended again to the wizard.

"My friend..." She said to the wizard, her hands folded in worry. "I am ill at ease for some reason. Do you have a spell that may soothe my mind?"

"I can't!" The wizard said, his brow furrowing. "This text will soon teach me the nature of the spell I seek! I cannot think of another spell now!"


Her heart heavy, the scholar returned to her floor. As she sat at the table, she looked at the books, the texts almost inviting her back. As she reached for another book, however, her unease only increased. The book's title was again perfect. Surely if she read the book she would gain insight... But instead of delving back into the book, she shut her eyes and sought calm her unsettled spirit first. Drawing on her mind's center, she let out a deep breath and allowed her mind to relax, her thoughts becoming free and clear. Eventually the unease subsided and she smiled, opening her eyes once again. However, as she opened her eyes she was met with a sight that made her recoil in horror.

The books were all blank.

Panic quickly setting in, she shuffled through her collection of books, finding each title wiped clean, each page completely devoid of words. For a moment in her fear she wished she was simply seeing things and as she wished, titles flashed upon the books just as they had before. However, having glimpsed the books being blank she could no longer believe the words that appeared on the books. As she slowly became drained of any belief she had in the library, so too did the words and titles drain from the pages, until finally every bookshelf appeared to have only a few books, each of them completely blank. The tables too, became dusty and covered in cobwebs, and the reading lamp that had shined so calmly since she arrived was snuffed out, only a blackened clump of wax remaining. Fearing for her friends, she rushed back to the seventh floor.

"Friend priest!" She called, rushing to his side. "Something is terribly wrong!"

"Keep your voice down." The priest replied firmly, eyes locked on a passage in his book. "I cannot concentrate with you yelling."

"Friend... you must stop. This library is not what it seems."

"I will not." The priest stated firmly. "Every piece of evidence I find brings me closer to my proof. Soon I will find all I need to prove it to everyone.”

Dejected at his statement, the scholar looked over his shoulder, seeing him reading nothing more than a blank book. Quickly, she ran to the fifth floor, the spiral stairwell now also old and weathered, suddenly realizing she has not been hungry or thirsty since she had entered.

"Friend wizard!" She yelled, gripping his shoulder. "Something is terribly wrong!"

"Leave me be!" He snapped harshly. "I cannot abide your ramblings when I am so close!"

"Friend... you must stop. This library is not what it seems."

"Don't be ridiculous!" The wizard snapped again. "I cannot possibly stop now! Each book I read brings me closer to the knowledge I seek! I am so very close!"

Again, the book gripped so tightly in the wizard's hands was blank. Unwilling to give up so easily, the scholar pleaded. "Friend! The books are blank!"

"Preposterous!" The wizard shouted, shrugging her hand from his shoulder. "I can read every line as you are able to as well!"


Panic setting in and thinking only of escape, the scholar rushed to the bottom floor of the library and pushed to doors open, the sunlight flooding the barren and ancient walls of the lobby. For a moment, she stares at the distant sun, pondering over her flight back into the world. But as she watches the clouds roll through the sky, her mind returns to her dear friends, hunched over blank books and focused on nothing else. Her heart sank into her stomach at the thought of leaving them like that. So with a hung head, she stepped backwards and closed the doors of the cursed library, propping a chair against the door to keep it shut so no one else could wander in.

The curse on the library, set by the old sorcerer, kept the trio from aging. And though she tried, the scholar was never able to convince her friends to leave the library. Some say they are still there, the sorcerer feeding off their souls to keep himself alive until the three became mere shells of their former selves... not truly alive anymore but not dead either. Simply ghosts, wandering the halls of the old library, sorrowful and timeless."





There's a pause. Clearly the story is over, but the twin blade isn't really explaining himself.

"Is there a point to this story?" Zan suddenly says. Lighteria looks to him and blinks in surprise.

It takes exactly ten seconds for the twin blade's mind to wrap around having talked that long with other people in the room. Once that fact snaps in place though it's not long before his knees give out and he falls over himself in shock. While on the floor, a large part of him wishes he could just curl up under a table and disappear from sight to save himself embarrassment... buuut he owed him an answer at least, and doing that would just draw more attention to himself. So, with reluctance, he looks up from the floor, back to stammering and blushing as he normally would.

"W-well... er... sorta..." He starts out, trying to stand back up. "It's... It's... ...It's supposed to... say that... well..." He swallows, his voice quieting down. "If you... focus too much on the goal... you lose sight of the world around you. ...And... and when that happens, you may fall into a trap..." He quiets even more. "...or hurt people you care for. ...That's all."

Noticing Kit has long since curled up on the comfiest chair in the room, Lighteria kneels down and starts petting her back, trying very hard to turn invisible but ultimately failing very, very hard at it.

"This whole library puzzle..." He whispers, trying to only talk to himself now. "We need to solve it... but it's just leading us where they want us to be. It's a big trap... ...and we might hurt..."

"Meow. Mew. (Ear scratch. Now.)" Kit suddenly says, snapping him out of it.

"R-right." Lighteria says quietly, scratching behind Kit's ear.
Lv. 37 Twin Blade (180 SP)
Weapon: Rashou (Thunder Coil- 30, Suvi Lei- 20, Mumyn Lei- 30) (Life Drain)
Armor: Holy Tree Mail (Juk Kruz- 20) - Scarab Earring (La Repth- 20, Rip Maen- 40) - Time Sandals (Ap Do- 15) - Forest Gloves (Juk Kruz- 20)
GP: 14384

Wish list (In order of priority): Angel halo accessory, chibi angel wings, Bone Armor, Professional

Lighteria: "Obsessively updating my profile since Fri Oct 01, 2004 7:10 pm"

Zan
Exalted Player
Posts: 206
Joined: Sat Jan 22, 2005 10:28 pm
Contact:

Post by Zan » Tue Oct 23, 2007 8:26 am

Zan found entering the second portion of the mansion to not be quite as comforting as he had originally expected. After all, the act of moving on, of moving forward usually proved to be something akin to soothing for him. This time, however, the Heavy Blade's thoughts were too busy being occupied with what had occurred between him and Sekai. A part of him was absolutely infuriated that Marionette had brought her on the deal, something that could have her as a focus of the group's future malice. The other half, the sadly bigger half, was so relieved that putting it into words was almost too difficult for the otherwise mentally-outspoken werewolf. Not being alone in it all, not bearing the weight of a decision that might damn them as much as it helped them by himself...it was a godsend. It really was. It was something he would have told Sekai if it didn't sound so foolish. Every now and then he'd find himself drifting a glance to either Phoenix or Hacorie, the two that suspected his transaction with the Puppetmaster the most. Fools. Ignorant, ignorant fools. The Lycan wasn't a traitor. It was because of him that the Elites hadn't found out about their work in the last two Hubs. It was because of him (and now, Sekai) that the Elites would find themselves blissfully unaware when Angel's mansion and the Hub within was taken out.

But no, as Zan began to ascend the steps before him, he realized it wouldn't matter to them. No matter how much he proved his loyalty to the group, no matter how many times he helped them or saved them, both wanted violence too much to see reason. Phoenix had...hope...but the ice-obsessed Heavy Blade itched for the Lycan's defeat and the splash of his blood and would not be deterred. Didn't he see that he was making himself the traitor in all of this, that he was taking on the role that he would so readily accused Zan of? Did he see it and just not care? God. Why did that little shit ever have to come back to the Freedom Fighters? They had done just fine without him. When he had left, the werewolf had persisted, had continued to fight for their cause. Not for a single step had the party faltered in his absence, like so many before him. And, now that he's back, all he's looking for is a fight and something that might cause the player to actually leave the Freedom Fighters? Zan could put up with a lot, could endure a lot of insults and threats. One thing he wouldn't tolerate, however, was being accused of treacherous intent. The moment the word 'traitor' slipped Hac's lips, if no one but Sekai spoke for him, defended him, he would simply go. It would show that all the faith he had put in them, all the times he had put his life in their hands and guarded theirs in his, had meant absolutely nothing to all of them.

Resisting the urge to growl, Zan focused on the library they had stepped into. People were immediately spreading out, doing this and that. Nul had his hands shoved into his pants pockets and was, for all intents and purposes, whistling the theme to the old Sherlock cartoon. At least, that's where the werewolf thought he had heard it before. Zan's attentions were focused more solely on the quad assortment of books and the cross-display of candles that lit them. Each was decorated with its own special bookmark, one with four particular symbols marring the medallions. As the Heavy Blade rounded the table, reading page by page, he took in a story that reminded him of a combination of things ranging from Romeo and Juliet (vaguely) to about every other fantasy fiction about love and kingdoms he had ever had the pleasure (and mild displeasure) of reading. What it had to do with anything was beyond him, but Zan was certain it would make itself known in time. While he waited for that inspiration to dawn on him, he found himself flipped through the opened books for more insight into the story, only to find the pages continued on in a language he couldn't understand, that he was fairly certain wasn't even remotely human (or from any recorded languages, anyway).

Well, damn.

This little discovery was followed by a very long, but oddly interesting story-spiel that rambled and babbled from the passive Twin Blade, Lighteria. Zan had been on a great number of little quests with the kid in the past, could even recall facing against Jett and the guardian bird with him, but still hadn't grown very close. It was strange, really. Aside from Reinier, he hadn't really kept his ties to anyone from that time or strengthened a single one of them. The 'lone wolf' aspect of his personality played part in that, he supposed. Now, of course, Reinier was off somewhere else with the mind of a ten year-old. So what was the use of that? Dien, another of his few friends in 'The World', was absent and potentially in some kind of lethal danger somewhere where he wasn't contacting or couldn't contact anyone else. So that was in the shitter. Who else did he have? Aside from Nul, who really was becoming something like a friend to him, he was alone. Lowen hardly opened an eye when he mentally pinged her anymore, but he couldn't blame her for that. She was sick. She was, as far as he knew, dying in some scientific compound with a bunch of twisted sons of bitches playing doctor on her for reasons he was still unsure of. He had theories, of course, but none of them had foundation yet. When Light's finished, Zan having managed to vaguely listen the whole time, he offered a question that he felt more polite than simply asking, 'Huh?'

"Is there a point to this story?" It was true his tone was slightly agitated, but it wasn't necessarily because of the Twin Blade.

The response he was given was...rather deep, to say the least. It was ridiculous that it had never occurred to Zan before, that he had never once really gone, 'Hey, we're probably walking into a trap.' Alright, so that wasn't completely true, but it was for the most part. He usually just considered things like a video game, like a pre-determined layout that wasn't really meant for anyone or anything. Whatever they did in it was cause and effect rather than blatant agenda against them. Now, however, he wasn't so sure of that particular brand of thinking. The kitten-wielding player had opened his eyes to a path of thought that had been otherwise closed off to him. Was Angel listening in? Was Marionette? Were they both suddenly panicking now, fearful that more than just Zan would take the boy's words to heart? Let them. Let them sweat. All of that considered, the werewolf found himself feeling vaguely guilty for the way he had posted his question to the Freedom Fighter. He wasn't one to apologize, of course, but perhaps Lights deserved something to at least balance out the previous comment. The Heavy Blade found himself wondering if his comrade even knew how to take a compliment, being the tentative figure that he was. Him and Sekai were a lot alike in that way. What would it be like to have them in a small room alone together? Watching them mutter and fidget would be worth it, but he was getting off track...

"That's, uh, that's actually a good point. I never really thought about that before." The next part was a little harder, but he felt obligated to say it just the same. "Er, thanks. And stuff."

With the awkward silence rather weighty then, Zan took his leave with Nul to explore the outside of the library (only stopping to eye the library's contents for a moment, amused at the range of things from hardbacks, paperbacks and even comic books). Phoenix had done the same before, but it didn't mean he didn't want to get a good look too. Besides, it wasn't like the Blademaster would up and tell him anything in the first place. What he saw was, for the most part, uninspiring. More halls, more locked doors, the same old same old. One thing that captured his attention, however, were the shapes present on the doors, shapes he had seen elsewhere. Aha. Nul was back in the library before the Heavy Blade, but they both had returned with the same medallion/bookmark in mind - the moon. It was slightly cliché for a werewolf to be so obsessed with the moon, but Michael Grahm had made that part of his Twilight Virus adaptation rather clear. There was a peace and certain...magnetic quality about the moon in any of its forms (though the full moon had obvious, particular strength). The Lycan took up the medallion in his hand and made his exit out, walking with no particular bounce in his step towards the room that held what he sought. Attempting to fit the moon slot into the moon shape of the door, he tried to turn it as well, hoping to open the door in the process. All the while he found himself mentally typing up a Flashmail, something that would give the group a little insight into what they may not have seen yet.

Flashmail!
To: The Freedom Fighters
From: Zan
Subject: Doors

Out in the halls here are four doors (after you go through two others) with the same upraised shapes as the missing parts from the bookmark medallions. I'm about to walk into the moon room myself, so you guys might want to divide the rooms up amongst the rest of you. Anyone who wants to back me up is welcome to, but Nul's here with me as well.

Just wanted to shoot you some info.

-Zan

Flashmail! End


And he pushed the door.
Lv. 50 Heavy Blade
Wishlist
Special: Levels, GR Sendai, PL Sakai, Darklore.
W: Tonosama Sword, Mineuchi, Jundachi.
A: Samurai Helm, Able Hands, Rare Greaves.
I: Holy Sap, Treebane, Cooked Bile, Nightbane.
EX: Elemental Summon (Lv. 2), Overdrive (Lv.1), Elemental Attacks (Lv. 2), Enhance Dark, Elemental Breath (Lv. 2).

Hacorie
Ikkitousen
Posts: 105
Joined: Thu Sep 30, 2004 11:30 pm
Location: Here and there.
Contact:

Post by Hacorie » Tue Oct 23, 2007 6:02 pm

Everything was progressing quite smoothly in the eyes of the water based Heavy Blade. The time had finally come to leave the first floor of the mansion, and with the opening of the step way now available, the group took immediate action: climbing up them. As they ascended unto higher ground, the group was met with the most majestic of sights which almost utterly made Hacorie piss his pants in ecstacy. Was the over enjoyment conceived by the room’s look due to it being all illuminated and pretty? NO! The room’s gallant causing feeling was perceived due to the countless number of books which lined shelf after shelf. The new room was a paradise of books; one that held so much information and it would be almost impossible to completely consume the knowledge in one lifetime. Only one fact would be enough evidence to let the previous statement be true: reading had to be a lifetime experience. One would have to read from dawn til dusk and even the hours before and after. It could be proposed the said person who achieved such a goal would have either no personal life, or it would have to be their job . . . their devotion.

Whatever the case was, the fact still remained which stated the room was engrossed with pages and articles from every subject imaginable. Just by simply looking around at the left bookcase which lined the entrance to the room, Hac’s eyes were immediately drawn to a few books. “How to Cook the Perfect Grunty Burger” and “The History of ‘The World’ Gods”. How strange... The Heavy Blade thought to himself as he simply began to slip into another mind set dedicated to the wonderful pair of words known as intensive pondering. It was easily noted that the books were completely different. They had no common links in titles, and the authors, whose names were withered and illegible but noticeably different, had no common links either. No alphabetized system, no common section heading, nothing. The books were completely random in all aspects. To prove his theory, Hacorie kept pacing forward while examining more book titles. “Calculus 101" and “How to Catch a Goblin”: Again, neither the two(nor four for that matter) had any joint ground. “Random...this seems...a bit strange...” Hacorie said to himself as he looked up back toward the front. The rest of the group had left him behind in thought; as Hac tried to figure out the weird book placements, the group was already looking at the next ‘looks like a’ clue.

Having finished his inspection of the one shelf of randomly assorted books, the Heavy Blade decided to see what all the hullabaloo was about. Of course, as he neared part of the group, his eyes were drawn to four large books. In this case, large did not mean a Harry Potter book, but instead it meant a book length was that of a dresser. “Wowza...” Hacorie accidentally said aloud as his eyes began to widen to compensate for the largest books he had ever seen, and just about the time he began to read the far left massive object, Lighteria quickly began to start his spiel. Of course, by reading the first sentence, Hac was already enthralled in the story. He could not look away from the book; it was grand. However, this does not mean that Hacorie just simply read with tuning Lighteria out; no, instead he listened, read, and even thought about what he had seen with the books. It was all strange. Why would Angel, such a freak of having rare objects and money....let all her books just simply reside wherever she felt like putting them? The woman seemed more like the person who would have her own strategically devised system for finding a book. Of course, that point could still be the case, but by the looks of it, the point was void.

Just about the time he finished the opened page on the last book, Hac heard Lighteria’s cliche’ story drawing to an end. Turning around, as not to be rude to the speaker throughout the entire oral presentation, Hac listened to the end...followed by Zan’s voice popping up immediately afterward. "Is there a point to this story?" Sort of...either afraid, or at loss for words, Lighteria bumbled around an answer, which more or less what was to be expected. Angel was leading the entire group into a trap. It could have been a ‘duh’ moment for everyone. After all, the group was in Angel’s mansion, playing by her rules. OF COURSE IT WAS A TRAP OF SOME SORT. However, unable to cause such a disruption in the momentary peace, Hacorie just nodded. After all, he did not need to make any more enemies of his current comrades: especially the ones who were still (at least acted) neutral toward him for his actions. Taking a small inhalation of air, Hacorie turned back to the four books. His eyes seemed to be drawn to the medallion bookmarks. They were all so unique and awesome looking; maybe they were...Rare Itemus?

Phoenix, who Hac did not really even notice leave the room, returned with his overview of the mansion at some point or another. Along with the layout, he also provided a bit of insight about how to move on: the symbol inscriptions on the doors were directly related to the bookmarks in Phoenix’s hypothesis. About the time Phoenix started explaining things, Hacorie did notice another person leave the room: Zan. Hac, even though he did not want to fight the Heavy Blade, still kept tabs on him: just in case. Noticing him leave, Hacorie slowly turned to the books once again. He was going to take one of the marks and go to one of the rooms. So far, only one medallion had been taken: the sun. That left three: moon, star, and cross. Moments later, Zan returned and quickly swept the moon medallion and left the room in the opposite direction of Phoenix. Still not knowing if Zan ever received word of Hac’s rampaging Flashmail. Hac reached his hand out and grabbed one of the remaining two medallions: the one depicted by the symbol of a star.

After clenching the item between his tightly closed fist, Hacorie began walking, at an accelerating pace, toward the exit Zan hit. The Heavy Blade had to say something to his fellow -class-man. Just as Hacorie hit the exiting doorway, the sound of a Flashmail rang in. It was from Zan, to everyone. Basically, the note just said ‘I am going to the moon room and whoever wants to help, cool, but I do not need it cause Nul is here.’ Reading and walking, Hacorie reached the specified hallway and walked toward the location occupied currently by Zan and Nulus. Feeling a bit uneasy about this time, Hacorie’s pace slowed. What would happen as he neared the Heavy Blade? Would Zan and/or Nulus attack? The conclusions were all so unclear. However, Hac had to push on. Just as Zan pressed his hands on the door to push it open, Hac spoke.

“Zan...do not let my anger clouded words disrupt my intentions...” Hac said followed by a small pause before continuing. “We have the same goals, and...the last thing I want to do is fight a fellow Freedom Fighter.” Another pause ensued as Hacorie tried to gather his words...for he already felt like a fool for becoming sentimental. “So whether my previous accusations were true or false, please keep that in mind....”

“Good luck in there.”

With his final statement made, Hacorie turned and inserted the star-shaped symbol into the door with one hand and pressed with the other. Hopefully something would happen...
Hacorie
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237

Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama

Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls

User avatar
Senna
Awakened Player
Posts: 150
Joined: Sat Jul 01, 2006 10:28 pm

Post by Senna » Tue Oct 23, 2007 11:17 pm

It was over in a rush – Zan and Angel paused, their forms still like something out of an anime. Then Angel was taking her leave and the group was free to proceed to the next level of this personal Tartarus the woman called her home.

In the wake of the end of the battle, some people wandered off while others just hung out together, talking or waiting. Senna wasn’t all that interested in either. She was more or less just happy to have avoided the fight in its entirety. Pleased enough with this turn of events, Senna was content to just wait for the group to move on.

And move on it did, after a short break, perhaps to prepare spells or prepare one another.

As they finally moved on, Senna dropped to the back of the pack. As a result, she was able to spend more time than she really wanted in the space between the floors – or the world between the worlds, if you were into that sort of thing. Looking at the space, she found it hard to believe that Angel would have left it this way just because. It had to be created, one way or the other, so why create it to look so utterly off?

Well, either way, Senna was plenty happy to get out of there and into the next room. And what a room. For a bibliophile, an English major, the sort of person who bought books the way most people buy food, a library with such an array of titles was like a treasure on its own. Senna could almost forgive the drama of down below (and not the good kind of drama, not to Senna.) Almost.

As she began a slow circuit of the book shelves – some books she’d read and others she’d never even heard of – she listened with one ear to the story someone, the one some people called “Lights,” spun a tale. She had to admit, if a trap were to take her unawares, it would have to be one like he was explaining in his story. She made no excuse for that. Everyone had to have at least one weakness, right?

The tale’s moral was a little obvious, but in the end, maybe someone would take it to heart. Were that the case, she might have to thank the guy later. Perhaps she was a little too paranoid, but she still thought some weren’t paranoid enough.

Eventually, as the story ended, Senna drifted around to the open books – she was too nervous of the place to actually bring down any of the others. These stories – or rather this, as it seemed all were part of the same story – were not the sort Senna would normally find interesting. The perfect princess part was enough to turn the stomach of the literary critic in her. However, after that, the story took at least a moderately interesting turn – music that could cloud the mind, a king fearing treachery from his daughter’s would-be husband, old, dark wine in goblets raised to all lips but the prince’s. It seemed the story was heading for an unhappy ending, at least to her.

Otherwise there was not much to take away, not yet. Nothing screamed out that it was in code like the previous ones. The story seemed rather short, and fairly new, all literature considered. The icons could have something to do with tarot, or religion (that last section, especially) but really, she had no clue. Theories, to be fully created by whatever people found behind those doors. Speaking of which…

“I’ll try the cross room, if someone else wants to join me?” she half said, half asked.
Senna, level 33 Long Arm (710 HP/180 SP)
Most common kit: Ichigou, Racoon Earcaps, Air Bracer, Snow Panther, Winter Coat, Graceful Book
Spells/Skills: (Critical Hit/Death) Repulse Cage, Ap Corv, Ap Vorv, Rai Rom, Rue Zot, La Repth
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