LaRed
Are you stupid or something
- Location
- Mou Ikkai hell
I don't know what material you're talking about but okay.You guys do realize that talking about this kinda shit is just gonna give me more material, right? You're making it way too easy.
Advance Australia Fair [Old World of Darkness]
Life baby!
It is however, addictive...
Well let's see from the hint so far in terms of spheres we have life for all the shapeshifting either force or prime vases on the doom arrow and no time sphere. Entropy is a bit more open but I would argue for a no there together with matter. Spirit is something that we most likely also have or will develop.
And worse then being addictive it also forces our avatar into regression and stasis.
- Location
- Germany
[X] Talk to Odette. You have to admit, of all the people you've seen around here, she's the most normal. Familiar, almost. She hardly seems friendly but you can deal with that.
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
- Location
- Spain
Vote tally said:
Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
[X] Talk to Odette. You have to admit, of all the people you've seen around here, she's the most normal. Familiar, almost. She hardly seems friendly but you can deal with that.
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
Alright, so. On the one hand, Meg now has a bomb inside of him.
On the other, since he's Rakasha, will that really be an issue for him down the line?
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
Alright, so. On the one hand, Meg now has a bomb inside of him.
On the other, since he's Rakasha, will that really be an issue for him down the line?
- Location
- in the trash
Probably. I think it would only be prudent to assume this is some sort of magical bomb with enough power to vaporise an apartment block.
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Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
But see, I think Meg might be able to just cut it out down the line.
Carrnage
Human
- Location
- New Zealand
I believe the term is "enslaved", though they have heaps of self righteous navel gazing to justify it.
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
[X] Talk to Thirteen. He's a mysterious kid, and just as much the one you have to thank for getting you away from that prison as Ichiban.
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
- Location
- in the trash
MtA: All of the sides are assholes. It's just that there are slightly worse assholes and slightly better assholes.
Although, isn't this technically a breach of contract or something? Guess our dad's resources are limited here.
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SoothingCoffee
Umumumu
- Location
- The Library
[X] Talk to Thirteen. He's a mysterious kid, and just as much the one you have to thank for getting you away from that prison as Ichiban.
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
[X] Ask about vampires. Anything you know via pop culture may or may not be woefully incorrect or outdated, and it's about to get very relevant.
Nidhoggr
Suletta Permetta
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Man, this whole "joining an organization" thing sucks so far.
It's too bad we couldn't have been a nomadic murder beast.
notanautomaton
I've got 99 quests, I've finished one
I vote we kill the Dame lady. Show her how we treat slavers in Australia!
Chapter Fifteen: Meet n' Greet
ZerbanDaGreat
Daemon Noble of D E M O G R A P H I C S
- Pronouns
- They/them
Come on, talk to someone. You can't just stand around like a lemon waiting for everything to move on without you. You're lost, alone, with still barely any idea what's happening. You need to make friends. You need to find something familiar. You used to hate Lakshmi's friends but seeing that in Odette only fills you with nostalgia now. So you shuffle over to her.
"Hey."
She doesn't even notice. Probably thinks you're talking to someone else. Looks like she's checking her phone for something. You resist the urge to peek at the screen and try again.
"Hey-"
"The new kid's talking to you," says the boy in the gas mask.
"Yes thank you Thirteen." She rounds on you with a sigh, a hand on her cocked hip. She's white, pretty, almost familiar as an overall ensemble. Black jacket over white blouse, black pants, boots which might be high-heeled but you're not going to check at this point. Either way she's taller than you. A silver necklace hangs at her throat, and almost every finger has a silver ring. The stones aren't ostentatious, more tasteful in the wealth they display. Her hair is past shoulder length, blonde but quite obviously black at the roots - maybe some fashion statement, maybe she just hasn't had access to some dye in a while. Her eyes are a piercing emerald green with a stare that makes you feel very, very small.
"Can I help you?" she asks, more sharply. Oh right, you've been dead silent the whole time.
"I um, I just, uh..." You scratch the back of your neck, only to flinch as you cut quite a bit deeper than you were expecting. You snatch your hand back like nothing happened. "I'm new, is all, and I already talked to Nathan a bit and, um, since we're about to be on a, y'know, mission, thought maybe-"
Odette raises one finger sharply. You stop talking. "Think of a sentence. Start. Middle. End. Say it. Don't stretch it on a rack, Christ."
You give an embarrassed nod, clear your throat, and try again. "I was just wondering if you could, maybe, give me a little background information? Since you seem, I don't know, like you know what's going on."
"Are you trying to flatter me?"
"N-ooo?" you reply, mostly bewildered.
"Good." She seems to get marginally less hostile. "So what'd you want to ask?"
"Well it's just, I 'know' what a vampire is but given the shit Cipher told me about world history I doubt what I think I know is actually true," you admit. "So I was wondering if you could tell me what vampires actually are."
"Came to the right place then. I've seen plenty of files on them." She shifts her weight to the other foot and folds her arms. Standoffish but not necessarily displeased, you think (you hope). Her voice pitches down into a lecturing tone, as practiced and perfected as any of your teachers'. "When you think of a vampire, don't think about a fey pale-skinned teen with shitty hair moaning about how he loves his girlfriend of the minute too much to hurt her. Think of an animal that's smart enough to act human, but doesn't think human. That, for all its charms, sees you as their next meal above anything else. They're predators that are only here by accident, but no matter how many we kill they just won't stay gone. Like rabbits or cane toads."
"But aren't..." you pause, try to think of how to word this without sounding naive. "Weren't they people?"
"Yeah. 'Were'." Odette waves her hand a little. "Fundamentally what you get out of a vampire bite just isn't what you put in. There's not one cell that stays the same. Most memories make the transition, helps them blend in, but that's it. The most moral vampire on the planet is at best a high-functioning sociopath."
You swallow. You don't feel like that. You know you don't. You're not faking for the sake of an observer. You know how you feel is real. You know you miss your family. You know you miss your old life. You know you're scared and angry and... and... oh shit. You cough to (badly) hide your shame and vigorously scrub your eyes with your sleeve before the tears burning at the corners can spring into visibility. Not just a monster killing other monsters. Just a freak killing monsters. Better. Slightly. Shit ask something else before you make it worse.
"S-o, so," you say, your voice cracking. "What um, what works on them? How do you kill them?"
Odette counts off her fingers, either missing or completely not caring about your emotions slipping the yoke. "Their bellies are blood reservoirs, fuels all their fancy tricks; puncture it and their options dwindle down to 'rabbit' or 'die like a dog'. Staking's nothing special - slows them to a crawl but in the end demolishing the heart's just another way to destroy the brain, cutting off the blood flow so it asphyxiates. If its healing factor's strong enough to regenerate a burst heart in under six minutes then it's the brain or bust. Or anything special you have related to stopping healing."
She pauses, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize she's...sizing you up. Weighing you, measuring you, elevator eyes from your new shoes to your stubbly, scarred scalp. If the Dame-Commander's gaze was a judgement, something pronounced from on high, this is a cold, clinical dissection. Layers being peeled back one after the next after the next. Is-is she trying to see if she can take you? Does she want to fight? You know you're not really eye-candy right now so it can't be that. You feel like a head of meat being evaluated for parts. Like if you glance away she's going to be holding a cleaver when you turn back. It's a relief when she blinks and looks away, breaking contact.
The girl -the woman- shrugs, toying with a silver ring as she continues. "Holy water, crosses, consecrated ground, none of it works on its own. I mean a Christian Mage could probably burn one with a cross but so could a Hermetic with a fireball. Fire in general is a killer but not particularly my speed. Try not to get any blood in your mouth by the by. It's like heroin for humans. Makes ghouls hopelessly-loyal addicts."
You nod jerkily, less enthused by the second. "But sunlight? That still works, right?"
"Mmhm. None of them can shake UV sensitivity," she says in agreement. "The lower-caste ones, the freshly-turned, they go up in smoke just like the movies if you shove them into direct light or a decent UV lamp. Almost any strain, it's going to hurt. A lot. Theoretically even if a vampire's strong, old or well-adapted enough to be a 'daywalker' they'd still be unable to use any of their abilities until they got back into the shade."
"Theoretically?" you ask.
"Methuselah doesn't exactly see much action and until eighteen-ish years ago almost everyone thought the Antediluvians were a myth, so yes it's staying a theory." Her eyes settle on you again. "Word is your dad got pretty close to Ravnos. He was in Bangladesh right?"
You go pale. Your tongue catches on your teeth and a sentence stumbles out. Mock-hearty and strained. "Ah! Heh! Did um, did Ichiban give everyone my file or something?"
"Nah. Not everyone." She idly polishes her nails on her jacket. They seem pretty freshly manicured. Maybe the dye thing really is a fashion statement. "But I like to keep informed, and he's not as smart as he thinks he is when it comes to people. On the run from Pentex, hm? Your Dad must've done a lot of damage to get them so pissed."
"I guess," you say uncomfortably.
"Way I hear it, you haven't got much to be afraid of from little old vampires-"
"Hey uh wow what's the time didn't you say you needed to get some gear?" you cut her off hastily. "Yeah I don't wanna impose or make you late or anything, if Jiayi gets angry just say it was my fault."
Odette doesn't reply immediately. She just looks at you, right through your pathetic attempt at deflection. The corner of her mouth quirks up into a knowing smirk. She knows. She knows everything. And she's not afraid. Why doesn't that make you feel better? "Yeah. See you around."
Everyone leaves. You just stand silently in place until it's time to go. First to try to recover from whatever...whatever that was and then because you're not sure what to do with yourself.
You briefly wish you'd followed Thirteen to the dining area to see if he takes off the mask to eat.
Nathan comes back first and he- oh jesus. He has a katana. You can see it right there in his gloved left hand, with a lacquered ebony sheath and a silvery circular handguard and a hilt wrapped in black cloth. He's got a black leather trench coat and a katana and if he put on sunglasses he would be every single tryhard on the internet ever. Is this real? Is this a test? Was the Matrix series a Union plot to make people like Nathan the least-cool people on the planet? No, no stop staring, stop being stupid. Don't assume anything, not any more. Wait and see. He might save your life from vampires in an hour.
Odette's next, not much changed at first glance. An elegantly-stitched black leather gunbelt with silver-trimmed holsters. A pair of pistols protrude from them - you don't know what kind, you're not a gun person. She has a designer bag slung over her shoulder, name-brand, probably worth about six figures because of stupid reasons. You wonder what kind of gear she could fit in there. Then you wonder if it's stupid or completely reasonable to assume it's a Prada Bag of Holding.
And then Jiayi's shadow falls over you and it's time to stop wondering much of anything. You slowly, slowly turn on your heel. Shrinking a little before him. You're sort of lanky, but even if you drew yourself up to your full height you'd maybe come even with his sternum.
"Are you ready?"
You nod jerkily, whatever you were going to say crashing and dying in a horrific multi-syllable pile-up. You're pretty sure his biceps are bigger than your thighs.
"Then let's go."
***
It doesn't have to hurt. Nothing has to hurt if you don't want it to. What is pain really? Just an alarm. A cry for help from damaged muscle, torn sinews and shredded meat. A burst heart sobbing, wailing, for someone, anyone, to hear it. To help. But that kind of thing's for mortals isn't it? And you're not mortal are you?
The figure stands arms outstretched. A cascade of long brown limbs, too many to number, each wrapped in gold and glittering metal. Ten heads turned towards the distant heavens. He stamps his foot and the earth shudders. He cries out and the night sky twists. The shining stars distort. Constellations cycling. Divine mechanisms grinding. The blue-black cracking and glowing as the cosmos reshapes itself to one will. To one overwhelming, insatiable, want.
You're made of stars.
You jerk awake with a mumbled "guh!"; cheek peeling from the window, stomach already queasy with motion sickness. You blink bleary eyes. You were...you were climbing that endless fucking ladder beside the airlock. Trying not to eat a faceful of black leather and wondering how the hell St. Augustine ever gets out for some fresh air. And then you were in a field? And there was a car and you were so tired you just sort of slumped in and…
Soft orchestral music is playing. An armoured giant of a man is behind the wheel of a completely ordinary sedan. You know it is completely ordinary because your brain tells you it is. There are four seats, four doors, wheels and an engine and a trunk. There are windows overlooking a scrub-lined roadway and misty, rain-soaked hills. All the parts are there. All the bits are more or less where they're supposed to be. None of them explain how you have all this leg room or why there's a literal aisle between the seats, or how Jaiyi doesn't even brush his head against the roof or- you press your palms to your sockets and grind the heels in.
Maybe if you don't look at it the headache will go away.
"You drool, you know that?" Odette says from the seat across the aisle. You pull your face from your hands and look at her, blinking away the purple-black blotches. She has one ankle resting on her knee and is leafing through a magazine she seems to have absolutely zero interest in. Her bag poking from the spacious carry-on container in the doorway. You mutely touch your fingers to your lips and then hastily scrub away with the cuff of your sleeve.
"I-sorry." You say, feeling every inch the social invalid. She just frowns at the page.
"...Why are you apologizing?"
"For fuck's sake Odette let him sleep." Nathan mumbles from the front. He's less sitting in and more sprawled all over his chair in that liquid, almost feline way. His coat spreads around him, the fanned tails hanging off the sides of the seat. Eyes closed and sword nestled in the crook of his arm like a kid's teddybear. "He asks fewer questions when he's out."
"Oh forgive me Causer, I forgot about your particular disability; really you're so brave for going out in public you know?" she replies, scorn laced beneath the surface. So keen you cringe and flinch away, scratching your scalp with black nails as you hunch down in your seat. Willing yourself to turn invisible. "But, you see, most people with a personality genuinely enjoy the company of others. They appreciate silly little things like 'social contact' and 'decent conversation'."
"If you want to fuck him wait until we get back to Ashkelon." He retorts.
"If you want to fuck him wait until we get back to Ashkelon."
"Nathan, Odette" Jaiyi says, voice filled with gentle reproach; a weary father's impatience. Silence falls, broken only by the soft keen of violins, as the car smoothly merged with traffic joining from an off ramp. Threading through the nearly solid line of steel and chrome in a way that makes your stomach flop over. Suburbs and shopping centers ahead: blocky glass-sided islands emerging from the rain and mist, mantled in the soft grey light of a setting sun. The sprawl of Sydney stretching farther and farther over the countryside every year. An eternity of cookie cutter subdivisions and strip-malls. Nathan mutters something about being twenty three and rolls over. Facing the window with his sword cuddled up to his chest. Odette turns the next page with particular force. Glossy pages almost ripping between her fingers.
You're just wedged into the doorway and are trying not to breathe too loudly. A rabbit between two angry wolves. It's a sweet, sweet relief when the radio fills with static and the classical stuff quiets. Ichiban's voice issuing through bright and cheery as can be.
"Heyyyyyyy there little duckies, boy have I got a milk-run for yo-"
"Ichiban," Jaiyi says in precisely the same tone.
"Fiiiiiine. Bare bones it is. Meghanada! If you would look in your door compartment I have a very special surprise for you!"
You blink, you warily thumb the little latch. Half-expecting something to jump out at you. Half-expecting it to be full of sex toys and cheeto dust or...whatever someone like Ichiban does for a shock and a laugh.
"...Huh?"
It's a bow and a quiver of arrows. An ordinary (on the outside anyway) smartphone in a carrying case and an earpiece beside them. That's it, that's all. Nothing special about anything. The weapon itself isn't even that complex. Some sleek, dark metal with a few twisting engravings on the side. Your fingers brush them gingerly. Snakes and serpents, twisted and tangled together. The quiver is just a quiver. Twelve shafts all fletched in a dark red. There's nothing special about them that you can see, there's nothing that would be that out of place at the local archery club. And yet there's a warmth to it. Soft and comforting like fresh baked bread or a blanket fresh from the dryer. Some part of you quiets as you hold it. As you rifle through the broadheads, counting and recounting them. Trying to ignore the way the compartment very definitely goes below the floor of the car. Hoping there's not significantly more than twelve vampires.
"Tadaa~. Not great but best we could scrounge up on short notice. Big part of this little field trip's figuring out what you can do in combat so nothing special yet. Beyond the basics I mean."
"Thank you," you say quietly. You're surprised by how much you mean it.
"Nah, don't mention it. Not my money anyway." You hear a keyboad clicking and the hacker hums to himself, "Riiight, blueprints of the site are coming up in a second but there's some bookkeeping to run through first: how hard are you pushing yourself and who are you buddying up with? Mages usually shine under pressure or crash and burn like a comet. And it's your show so, yaknow, up to you."
You swallow nervously and try not to make eye contact with anyone else in the car.
[ ] Vanguard. Push yourself as hard as you can. Hopefully you'll be running on too much adrenaline to choke.
-[ ] Go with Nathan. You've trained with him a bunch already and he's a known quantity.
-[ ] Go with Odette. She seems more or less stable and you'd feel better beside her.
[ ] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[ ] Go with Nathan. You'll have time to absorb some of his lessons maybe.
-[ ] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
[ ] Reserve. Well removed from the action, plenty of range to draw a bead on enemies. Plenty of time to think it all over.
-[ ] Ichiban. A familiar voice in the ear to keep you company while you plink away.
-[ ] Odette. She has guns right? And she doesn't seem that enthused about wading in.
"Hey."
She doesn't even notice. Probably thinks you're talking to someone else. Looks like she's checking her phone for something. You resist the urge to peek at the screen and try again.
"Hey-"
"The new kid's talking to you," says the boy in the gas mask.
"Yes thank you Thirteen." She rounds on you with a sigh, a hand on her cocked hip. She's white, pretty, almost familiar as an overall ensemble. Black jacket over white blouse, black pants, boots which might be high-heeled but you're not going to check at this point. Either way she's taller than you. A silver necklace hangs at her throat, and almost every finger has a silver ring. The stones aren't ostentatious, more tasteful in the wealth they display. Her hair is past shoulder length, blonde but quite obviously black at the roots - maybe some fashion statement, maybe she just hasn't had access to some dye in a while. Her eyes are a piercing emerald green with a stare that makes you feel very, very small.
"Can I help you?" she asks, more sharply. Oh right, you've been dead silent the whole time.
"I um, I just, uh..." You scratch the back of your neck, only to flinch as you cut quite a bit deeper than you were expecting. You snatch your hand back like nothing happened. "I'm new, is all, and I already talked to Nathan a bit and, um, since we're about to be on a, y'know, mission, thought maybe-"
Odette raises one finger sharply. You stop talking. "Think of a sentence. Start. Middle. End. Say it. Don't stretch it on a rack, Christ."
You give an embarrassed nod, clear your throat, and try again. "I was just wondering if you could, maybe, give me a little background information? Since you seem, I don't know, like you know what's going on."
"Are you trying to flatter me?"
"N-ooo?" you reply, mostly bewildered.
"Good." She seems to get marginally less hostile. "So what'd you want to ask?"
"Well it's just, I 'know' what a vampire is but given the shit Cipher told me about world history I doubt what I think I know is actually true," you admit. "So I was wondering if you could tell me what vampires actually are."
"Came to the right place then. I've seen plenty of files on them." She shifts her weight to the other foot and folds her arms. Standoffish but not necessarily displeased, you think (you hope). Her voice pitches down into a lecturing tone, as practiced and perfected as any of your teachers'. "When you think of a vampire, don't think about a fey pale-skinned teen with shitty hair moaning about how he loves his girlfriend of the minute too much to hurt her. Think of an animal that's smart enough to act human, but doesn't think human. That, for all its charms, sees you as their next meal above anything else. They're predators that are only here by accident, but no matter how many we kill they just won't stay gone. Like rabbits or cane toads."
"But aren't..." you pause, try to think of how to word this without sounding naive. "Weren't they people?"
"Yeah. 'Were'." Odette waves her hand a little. "Fundamentally what you get out of a vampire bite just isn't what you put in. There's not one cell that stays the same. Most memories make the transition, helps them blend in, but that's it. The most moral vampire on the planet is at best a high-functioning sociopath."
You swallow. You don't feel like that. You know you don't. You're not faking for the sake of an observer. You know how you feel is real. You know you miss your family. You know you miss your old life. You know you're scared and angry and... and... oh shit. You cough to (badly) hide your shame and vigorously scrub your eyes with your sleeve before the tears burning at the corners can spring into visibility. Not just a monster killing other monsters. Just a freak killing monsters. Better. Slightly. Shit ask something else before you make it worse.
"S-o, so," you say, your voice cracking. "What um, what works on them? How do you kill them?"
Odette counts off her fingers, either missing or completely not caring about your emotions slipping the yoke. "Their bellies are blood reservoirs, fuels all their fancy tricks; puncture it and their options dwindle down to 'rabbit' or 'die like a dog'. Staking's nothing special - slows them to a crawl but in the end demolishing the heart's just another way to destroy the brain, cutting off the blood flow so it asphyxiates. If its healing factor's strong enough to regenerate a burst heart in under six minutes then it's the brain or bust. Or anything special you have related to stopping healing."
She pauses, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize she's...sizing you up. Weighing you, measuring you, elevator eyes from your new shoes to your stubbly, scarred scalp. If the Dame-Commander's gaze was a judgement, something pronounced from on high, this is a cold, clinical dissection. Layers being peeled back one after the next after the next. Is-is she trying to see if she can take you? Does she want to fight? You know you're not really eye-candy right now so it can't be that. You feel like a head of meat being evaluated for parts. Like if you glance away she's going to be holding a cleaver when you turn back. It's a relief when she blinks and looks away, breaking contact.
The girl -the woman- shrugs, toying with a silver ring as she continues. "Holy water, crosses, consecrated ground, none of it works on its own. I mean a Christian Mage could probably burn one with a cross but so could a Hermetic with a fireball. Fire in general is a killer but not particularly my speed. Try not to get any blood in your mouth by the by. It's like heroin for humans. Makes ghouls hopelessly-loyal addicts."
You nod jerkily, less enthused by the second. "But sunlight? That still works, right?"
"Mmhm. None of them can shake UV sensitivity," she says in agreement. "The lower-caste ones, the freshly-turned, they go up in smoke just like the movies if you shove them into direct light or a decent UV lamp. Almost any strain, it's going to hurt. A lot. Theoretically even if a vampire's strong, old or well-adapted enough to be a 'daywalker' they'd still be unable to use any of their abilities until they got back into the shade."
"Theoretically?" you ask.
"Methuselah doesn't exactly see much action and until eighteen-ish years ago almost everyone thought the Antediluvians were a myth, so yes it's staying a theory." Her eyes settle on you again. "Word is your dad got pretty close to Ravnos. He was in Bangladesh right?"
You go pale. Your tongue catches on your teeth and a sentence stumbles out. Mock-hearty and strained. "Ah! Heh! Did um, did Ichiban give everyone my file or something?"
"Nah. Not everyone." She idly polishes her nails on her jacket. They seem pretty freshly manicured. Maybe the dye thing really is a fashion statement. "But I like to keep informed, and he's not as smart as he thinks he is when it comes to people. On the run from Pentex, hm? Your Dad must've done a lot of damage to get them so pissed."
"I guess," you say uncomfortably.
"Way I hear it, you haven't got much to be afraid of from little old vampires-"
"Hey uh wow what's the time didn't you say you needed to get some gear?" you cut her off hastily. "Yeah I don't wanna impose or make you late or anything, if Jiayi gets angry just say it was my fault."
Odette doesn't reply immediately. She just looks at you, right through your pathetic attempt at deflection. The corner of her mouth quirks up into a knowing smirk. She knows. She knows everything. And she's not afraid. Why doesn't that make you feel better? "Yeah. See you around."
Everyone leaves. You just stand silently in place until it's time to go. First to try to recover from whatever...whatever that was and then because you're not sure what to do with yourself.
You briefly wish you'd followed Thirteen to the dining area to see if he takes off the mask to eat.
Nathan comes back first and he- oh jesus. He has a katana. You can see it right there in his gloved left hand, with a lacquered ebony sheath and a silvery circular handguard and a hilt wrapped in black cloth. He's got a black leather trench coat and a katana and if he put on sunglasses he would be every single tryhard on the internet ever. Is this real? Is this a test? Was the Matrix series a Union plot to make people like Nathan the least-cool people on the planet? No, no stop staring, stop being stupid. Don't assume anything, not any more. Wait and see. He might save your life from vampires in an hour.
Odette's next, not much changed at first glance. An elegantly-stitched black leather gunbelt with silver-trimmed holsters. A pair of pistols protrude from them - you don't know what kind, you're not a gun person. She has a designer bag slung over her shoulder, name-brand, probably worth about six figures because of stupid reasons. You wonder what kind of gear she could fit in there. Then you wonder if it's stupid or completely reasonable to assume it's a Prada Bag of Holding.
And then Jiayi's shadow falls over you and it's time to stop wondering much of anything. You slowly, slowly turn on your heel. Shrinking a little before him. You're sort of lanky, but even if you drew yourself up to your full height you'd maybe come even with his sternum.
"Are you ready?"
You nod jerkily, whatever you were going to say crashing and dying in a horrific multi-syllable pile-up. You're pretty sure his biceps are bigger than your thighs.
"Then let's go."
***
It doesn't have to hurt. Nothing has to hurt if you don't want it to. What is pain really? Just an alarm. A cry for help from damaged muscle, torn sinews and shredded meat. A burst heart sobbing, wailing, for someone, anyone, to hear it. To help. But that kind of thing's for mortals isn't it? And you're not mortal are you?
The figure stands arms outstretched. A cascade of long brown limbs, too many to number, each wrapped in gold and glittering metal. Ten heads turned towards the distant heavens. He stamps his foot and the earth shudders. He cries out and the night sky twists. The shining stars distort. Constellations cycling. Divine mechanisms grinding. The blue-black cracking and glowing as the cosmos reshapes itself to one will. To one overwhelming, insatiable, want.
You're made of stars.
You jerk awake with a mumbled "guh!"; cheek peeling from the window, stomach already queasy with motion sickness. You blink bleary eyes. You were...you were climbing that endless fucking ladder beside the airlock. Trying not to eat a faceful of black leather and wondering how the hell St. Augustine ever gets out for some fresh air. And then you were in a field? And there was a car and you were so tired you just sort of slumped in and…
Soft orchestral music is playing. An armoured giant of a man is behind the wheel of a completely ordinary sedan. You know it is completely ordinary because your brain tells you it is. There are four seats, four doors, wheels and an engine and a trunk. There are windows overlooking a scrub-lined roadway and misty, rain-soaked hills. All the parts are there. All the bits are more or less where they're supposed to be. None of them explain how you have all this leg room or why there's a literal aisle between the seats, or how Jaiyi doesn't even brush his head against the roof or- you press your palms to your sockets and grind the heels in.
Maybe if you don't look at it the headache will go away.
"You drool, you know that?" Odette says from the seat across the aisle. You pull your face from your hands and look at her, blinking away the purple-black blotches. She has one ankle resting on her knee and is leafing through a magazine she seems to have absolutely zero interest in. Her bag poking from the spacious carry-on container in the doorway. You mutely touch your fingers to your lips and then hastily scrub away with the cuff of your sleeve.
"I-sorry." You say, feeling every inch the social invalid. She just frowns at the page.
"...Why are you apologizing?"
"For fuck's sake Odette let him sleep." Nathan mumbles from the front. He's less sitting in and more sprawled all over his chair in that liquid, almost feline way. His coat spreads around him, the fanned tails hanging off the sides of the seat. Eyes closed and sword nestled in the crook of his arm like a kid's teddybear. "He asks fewer questions when he's out."
"Oh forgive me Causer, I forgot about your particular disability; really you're so brave for going out in public you know?" she replies, scorn laced beneath the surface. So keen you cringe and flinch away, scratching your scalp with black nails as you hunch down in your seat. Willing yourself to turn invisible. "But, you see, most people with a personality genuinely enjoy the company of others. They appreciate silly little things like 'social contact' and 'decent conversation'."
"If you want to fuck him wait until we get back to Ashkelon." He retorts.
"If you want to fuck him wait until we get back to Ashkelon."
"Nathan, Odette" Jaiyi says, voice filled with gentle reproach; a weary father's impatience. Silence falls, broken only by the soft keen of violins, as the car smoothly merged with traffic joining from an off ramp. Threading through the nearly solid line of steel and chrome in a way that makes your stomach flop over. Suburbs and shopping centers ahead: blocky glass-sided islands emerging from the rain and mist, mantled in the soft grey light of a setting sun. The sprawl of Sydney stretching farther and farther over the countryside every year. An eternity of cookie cutter subdivisions and strip-malls. Nathan mutters something about being twenty three and rolls over. Facing the window with his sword cuddled up to his chest. Odette turns the next page with particular force. Glossy pages almost ripping between her fingers.
You're just wedged into the doorway and are trying not to breathe too loudly. A rabbit between two angry wolves. It's a sweet, sweet relief when the radio fills with static and the classical stuff quiets. Ichiban's voice issuing through bright and cheery as can be.
"Heyyyyyyy there little duckies, boy have I got a milk-run for yo-"
"Ichiban," Jaiyi says in precisely the same tone.
"Fiiiiiine. Bare bones it is. Meghanada! If you would look in your door compartment I have a very special surprise for you!"
You blink, you warily thumb the little latch. Half-expecting something to jump out at you. Half-expecting it to be full of sex toys and cheeto dust or...whatever someone like Ichiban does for a shock and a laugh.
"...Huh?"
It's a bow and a quiver of arrows. An ordinary (on the outside anyway) smartphone in a carrying case and an earpiece beside them. That's it, that's all. Nothing special about anything. The weapon itself isn't even that complex. Some sleek, dark metal with a few twisting engravings on the side. Your fingers brush them gingerly. Snakes and serpents, twisted and tangled together. The quiver is just a quiver. Twelve shafts all fletched in a dark red. There's nothing special about them that you can see, there's nothing that would be that out of place at the local archery club. And yet there's a warmth to it. Soft and comforting like fresh baked bread or a blanket fresh from the dryer. Some part of you quiets as you hold it. As you rifle through the broadheads, counting and recounting them. Trying to ignore the way the compartment very definitely goes below the floor of the car. Hoping there's not significantly more than twelve vampires.
"Tadaa~. Not great but best we could scrounge up on short notice. Big part of this little field trip's figuring out what you can do in combat so nothing special yet. Beyond the basics I mean."
"Thank you," you say quietly. You're surprised by how much you mean it.
"Nah, don't mention it. Not my money anyway." You hear a keyboad clicking and the hacker hums to himself, "Riiight, blueprints of the site are coming up in a second but there's some bookkeeping to run through first: how hard are you pushing yourself and who are you buddying up with? Mages usually shine under pressure or crash and burn like a comet. And it's your show so, yaknow, up to you."
You swallow nervously and try not to make eye contact with anyone else in the car.
[ ] Vanguard. Push yourself as hard as you can. Hopefully you'll be running on too much adrenaline to choke.
-[ ] Go with Nathan. You've trained with him a bunch already and he's a known quantity.
-[ ] Go with Odette. She seems more or less stable and you'd feel better beside her.
[ ] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[ ] Go with Nathan. You'll have time to absorb some of his lessons maybe.
-[ ] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
[ ] Reserve. Well removed from the action, plenty of range to draw a bead on enemies. Plenty of time to think it all over.
-[ ] Ichiban. A familiar voice in the ear to keep you company while you plink away.
-[ ] Odette. She has guns right? And she doesn't seem that enthused about wading in.
Malaquez
[MUFFLED EUROBEAT]
- Location
- Singapore
[X] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
Well, at least we didn't act like too much of a spastic. I want to talk to Ichiban, but the action man.
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
Well, at least we didn't act like too much of a spastic. I want to talk to Ichiban, but the action man.
notanautomaton
I've got 99 quests, I've finished one
[x] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[x] Go with Nathan. You'll have time to absorb some of his lessons maybe.
-[x] Go with Nathan. You'll have time to absorb some of his lessons maybe.
[X] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
We fucking doomed
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
We fucking doomed
[X] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
Malaquez
[MUFFLED EUROBEAT]
- Location
- Singapore
Naaaah, Ichiban would never steer us wrong.
Maybe steer us off-road, but never wrong.
LaRed
Are you stupid or something
- Location
- Mou Ikkai hell
Hey Ravana.
[X] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
- Location
- Canadia
[X] Midline. Best (or worst) of both worlds. Room to breathe and room to doubt, murder at your own pace.
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
A freaking katana? Nathan you hilarious loser.
-[X] Go with Odette. You want to hear more about what she has to say.
A freaking katana? Nathan you hilarious loser.
Watch out, Odette's got killer comebacks.
Malaquez
[MUFFLED EUROBEAT]
- Location
- Singapore
Hey, if it works, it works. And if he looks /edgy/ in the process...eh, his problem.
The best.