Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by MarshiestMallow
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Misty

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It seemed that Misty could never find the right balance between strong independent woman and awkward girl. She bit her lip thoughtfully, but shook her head. She hadn't meant to be rude to the angel but rather she'd been going for humor...she thought to apologize but didn't know what she had to apologize for. If she apologized for her behavior she'd be apologize all the time. She lay her hands on the keys again, listening a moment to what Lazarus was playing before she matched it with her own notes, letting the music wash over her completely.

Music was life.

The simply way of being able to comply something with others, without any thought or preparation was pretty amazing. The way that it just...was. Music could be anything, but it was always beautiful. Always amazing. You always put a little bit of heart and soul into it, to create pieces of work that were unique. No two songs, no two playings were the same.

It was almost a shame that the song ended. Misty removed her hands from the keys, and sighed softly. At lazarus's question, Misty took a few moments to answer. She wasn't really sure how to answer that. She didn't know how she was going. She tried her best...

"well. I haven't really had any troubles...I do my best and that's all I can do, right? Musics easier then the fighting...I don't think I'll ever be able to fight".

She felt self-conscious even saying that. see, no consistency in attitude. I'm a mess. she looked down at her hands and shrugged. "I mean...I'm more supportive then anything else. But I still study, and go to classes."

She knew that she was probably quite close to rambling. So she reined herself in and looked back up to Lazarus. She gave an almost bashful smile and shifted, shooting a glance to the angel as well.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by BlackPanther
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Barachiel



Barachiel gently put his flute away after the song had ended and looked over at Lazarus. He shook his head causing rainbows to bounce through his hair. "Of course. I'm always more then happy to play" a smile spread on his face before he quieted down and listened to misty. He blinked. He seemed to process her words then blinked again.

"Perhaps you haven't had enough practice" to him fighting was a necessary knowledge. To survive you had to know something he thought through the pupils he was helping...purely by looks since names did not seem to be his forte. "Would you be willing to try training with me? If you're more supportive you will know for certain rather quickly"

He seemed to stare through her as he spoke that sentence. Deep blue eyes swirling with mystery, but also the want to help. Fighting was still ingrained with him...even if he was impartial he did want to help somehow. And teaching someone how to fight was his way of doing so.

He was still sitting, but he seemed more upright now. His wings more folded then they were previously giving him a more focused impression. Though he was more curious of her answer. His state intent on her as if trying to figure her out before she said anything. He was also somewhat trying to figure out if she was more support.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Themerlinhawk
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Lazarus


It was nice to just be able to sit and listen to one of his students again. The mage hadn't realized how much he missed them. It was certainly nice to hear that Misty was still going to her classes but the fighting comment was concerning. Musicians were expected to take on some dangerous missions and those who couldn't fight were a liability. Not that he thought Misty was a liability she was just...a late bloomer.

As Barachiel offered Lazarus quirked the corner of his mouth to a smile. How the weather angle had survived the reign of Solus Grim when the chimera had been the combat instructor here was still a mystery to Lazarus.

A thought struck the mage and he quietly relaxed into his essence sight and began assessing Misty discreetly with it. Her soul was still young and brilliant through the sight, and interestingly it had potential. A lot of potential.

Letting go of his sight Lazarus let the angle finish before chiming in: “You have tried any of the introduction magic classes here have you?”. It was more statement than it was question as it was clear she hadn’t. “You absolutely have to work on your combat as its essential to your survival, but you could certainly work on your magic”. Some of the students at the Academy never developed magic beyond their instrument; part of it was due to a lack of ability but sometimes the students just never thought to try it. The Academy had no required class in basic magic application beyond fragment control. Lazarus taught, in addition to magical theory, history, and philosophy, he also taught intermediate application of magic, praticarum, and Higher Order application of magic. That being said he never got to work with the students who were just beginning.

“It might be worth your time to look into it. You seem like you might have some potential for magic independent of your instrument.”




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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by MarshiestMallow
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Misty

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The fact that both of them offered to help threw Misty off balance. Since coming to the school, Misty had just done what was required of her, and had done her best to learn. Asking for help made her feel like a burden, so she had merely tried her best, by herself. Having help offered her...Misty wasn't too sure what to do. She glanced away, trying to think it through, to process it. She bit her lip, uncertain, feeling like both of them were...piercing her, as if they wanted to study her very...soul. It threw her, and she struggled to get her footing back. She drew in a slow, deep breath, and let it out, trying to figure out what she wanted to say.

She glanced to both of them, trying not to portray her nervousness, her insecurity. "I do practice...I'm just not any good" She said softly, "I...That would be good, thank you" She said to Baracheil, although to propspect of training with an Angel was a little daunting. She knew she was no where near being even marginally good, and she didn't want to make a fool of herself. Shifting slightly, she managed a smile, grateful. Their gazes were a little disturbing, making her feel a little raw, and way to open. She cleared her throat, looking to Lazarus.

Misty had mainly been taking the required classes, unsure of where she belong or what she would need to undertake. Mostly she had just been stumbling along, getting good results in most of what she did, but music was really her one true passion here. It simply made her feel alive. Perhaps if she made an effort to make any frends...but she knew she was older then most of the beginning students, and that caused her to be a little bit...uneasy about approaching them. And no one had peaked her interest, not really. Her mind went back to the letter for a moment. More and more, she felt that that was merely becoming a task that needed to be completed, a necessity because otherwise you'd feel guilty for not doing it, by the towns people.

Clearing her throat again, she said "I haven't, no. I was under the impresison that the instrument was all the magic I could do" Although now that she thought on that, that was probably a stupid assumption. Embarrassed at that, she glanced away, frowning over that for a moment, before looking back to Lazarus, "But why do you say that? I'm sure I haven't given anyone a reason to believe I'm more capable then I show" She said, curious now as she tried to figure out just what they were seeing in her. Surely...surely they wouldn't just offer this help and advice so willingly? Or was she looking for an alterative motive? "What would you suggest?"
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by BlackPanther
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Barachiel



Barachiel smiled as misty accepted his offer. He patted his pockets and produced a card with his number on it. He gently handed it to her and tilted his head. "Whenever you are ready to begin either find me here or call me." he glanced at Lazarus and raised a brow. When the both of them were done with her he was sure she would be a formidable opponent to any whom crossed her.

Though he did wonder what exactly he saw that spurred that one. For the angel it was a matter of helping. He then took a step back to allow them to converse. His way f being there in case she wanted something, but also showing he wasn't listening in on their conversation.

Meanwhile behind him one of the pupils he was helping was sneaking up behind him. Probably not the best idea on her part, but she wanted to prove how good she was. She got closer and within seconds Barachiel had her pinned. One talon aimed at her throat the other at her heart she swallowed and managed a sheepish smile. H-Hey Bar Baraciel rubbed his face before straightening and helping her up. "Are you hurt?" the girl rubbed her neck and shook her head. Physically no....but my pride is damaged Barachiel rolled his eyes.

"Haven't I told you not to sneak up on me unless we are practicing?" Yea...my bad....anyway I came to say thanks for the help and that I can't meet up this week. Barachiel's wings folded and he nodded. "Okay...you know how to reach me when you're ready" the girl nodded and waved as she left the room. Barachiel turned to face the two and looked sheepish. Part of him hoped they didn't see the whole tackling part. Or how he nearly damaged that girl. He switched hands on the flute case.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Themerlinhawk
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Lazarus


He’d been caught. Accidentally but Misty had still caught him. Slipping his shoes off he pulled his legs up onto the piano bench and turned himself so that he was sitting cross legged on the bench and looking at her. “I used my sight on you. Your essence has all of the traditional markers of a mage. Most musicians exhibit some signs of magical potential but mostly that is just the result of being bonded with an instrument. Yours a genuine” Picking up his note book he tore a page out of it. Writing on it with one of the pencils he produced from the breast pocket of his button up shirt Lazarus handed her a piece of paper. It was a list of classes that the academy offered.

“You should still be able to make it into the initial class. Just tell the instructor Lazarus sent you and they’ll get you settled in. I don’t teach the classes until these one.” With a quick series of circles Lazarus circled four of the classes on the list: Advanced Alchemy, Combat Magic, Integrated Disciplines and Higher Order magic. “I also teach the theory classes. You can take the magical theory course progression at any time but you have to have completed the class or have me sign off on you before you can take Integrated Disciplines and Higher Order magic. And of course the Practicarum class is open to anyone who is enrolled in any of the classes.”

Most of the students at the Academy knew he was a Necromancer but never once had they asked why not a single one of his classes covered necromancy. Infact none of his classes broached the topic of dealing with souls in any other form then his Intermediate Magic classes where he taught basic Abjuration. Technically there was a class on the academy’s list called Ancient and Experimental Theory and practice of magic; one of the covered topics was necromancy. The problem was he’d never had the required ten students who had in previous years taken All of the required course work so the class was never offered.

“I think you have the potential to develop into quite a fine mage. Regardless of what discipline of magic you take to I hope to see you in one of my classes some time.”

He’d met Misty in his history class her first year but she’d never come back for another round of philosophy, history or theory of magic; and judging by her lack of any of the application classes it was clear why she’d never ended up in his other classes.

“I’ll tell you what. When you get to midterms. If you test with a higher than ninety percent proficiency in two disciplines I’ll sign off on a waiver for your basic classes and see if Lily will let you take the other classes.” Still sort of studying Misty, Lazarus hoped he was right. The academy was dying for musicians who pulled double duty. Most of them could only manage basic magic proficiency and those who did better were often reliant on things like masks to do so. Ian was a prime example and even his daughter relied on her instrument.

Catch sight of Barachiel’s pounce out of the corner of his eye. Lazarus turned to watch the exchange. The angel must have had incredible hearing to pick up the young woman’s approach. Smiling Lazarus met Barachiel’s sheepish look. Turning to look at the young woman as she departed. “You know they never loved Solus the way they seem to love you. That’s an incredible talent considering that you are a combat instructor.” Chuckling at his own joke Lazarus eyes tracked the young musician through the wall as he watched her essence depart down the hallway.

Closing his notebook Lazarus tucked it back into his bag. “Well. I think I’ve taken up plenty of your time, you two. Anything else I can do for you before I go home? It's been quite the day for me and I think it’s about time for a nap.”




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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by MarshiestMallow
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Misty

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A mage? Misty was a little perplexed at that, and that someone had genuinely taken an interest in her, and sought to...was it see? See what she could be. It threw her off balance once more. She could be a mage? She could use magic without her harp? The thought of not having to rely on the harp, on Shakuntala, was oddly...reassuring and saddening. She loved the harp, but...she thought it might be amazing to be able to do magic without it. Why didn't they teach them that some people could do that? Or was that for more advance classes? She took the paper Lazarus offered her, glancing down at it curiously, she folded it up carefully and put it away. She'd look into enrolling in them, later.

She listened as Lazarus spoke, but she glanced away from him. Part of her felt like she'd just disappoint herself, and him, if she tried any of the harder classes, and that was a fear she had. Part of it was also the fact that the academy was...secure. A safety blanket for her. Yet could she ignore the advice, the offered help? She sighed to herself, but nodded. "I'll try, thank you" She said, softly, although she wasn't too sure she could get ninety in two classes. She worked hard, and she really did try to get good grades.

And now it just seemed there was slightly more pressure on her, to do well by Lazaus for the advice he was offering her, and...the fact that he seemed she could do it. She'd always tried her best, but there had never really been anyone to encourage her. She didn't want to fail, because it would just be so much worse now. And there she went, pouring self-doubt onto herself. She took a moment, and shifted, sitting up straighter, she glanced to Lazarus. "I will try. Be sure to have a seat for me, in your classes then"

She shifted to rise, watching Baracheil with what seemed to be another student, frowning a moment, wondering if that was to be her training with the angel. It didn't even seem to be anything, but a childs game of trying to sneak up on someone. The quick movements, the almost deadly percision the angel showed was impressive, but Misty knew she'd never have anything close to that level of skill. She would just be happy learning how to defend herself, and not be a burden on anyone she would team up with. She stood, and shifted the harp into a good position, comfortable.

She looked to Lazarus, and shook her head, "No, thank you for everything...I'll go see what I can do" She checked she had her things, before starting out the room, her mind heavy with the thoughts the interaction had brought her, she stopped after walking down the hall a minute, wondering what she should do right then. She wavered a moment, before starting off again, in the direction of the school's offices, to see about enrolling in the classes Lazarus had mentioned.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by BlackPanther
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Barachiel



Barachiel tilted his head at Lazarus' comment. He then shrugged. "As long as they are genuine with me I show the same to them. I'm here to help after all" he gave a less sheepish more pleased smile. Then focused on misty. He watched her leave the room before looking back at Lazarus. "She shows potential. I only hope I can help her reach it"

He then shook his head. "No..." he paused his head tilted to the other side. "Tomorrow rain wear would be a good idea" he straightened and folded his wings before giving a two finger salute. "Perhaps we could get together sometime. It was quite nice to play my flute with you" he then walked out. He carefully stored his flute in its location before leaving himself.

He didn't have anyone else who needed him today so exploring was in order. He walked with a silence of a killer. The way he stepped was with purpose yet he always stepped with his left foot first. Showing a hint of the controlled background he had before his change. He left the academy and began his exploration of the town he enjoyed so much. Even with all the demons he previously hated.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Wind Wild
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Wind Wild A sprinkle of Weird

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Loom: Darlyn's Cafe

Day 3, Afternoon
Roanne, Tokarin, Zadkiel
Collaboration between Fairess, Howler, and Wind Wild
Continued from: Part I


“Like I’d charge y--hey!” Roanne leaned over the bar as Jasper whisked himself away. She even lifted herself up and over the obstacle, practically leap-frogging in a woosh of patched jeans and fluttering hair. She was halfway to him before she realized she was lacking her sword--quite useful if there was trouble at the basement. The state of her mind came out in a few muttered phrases, “Agh.” “Now?” “I’ll just,” and “Elaine!”

The surprised waitress barely made it to the kitchen door before Roanne rushed through the back for her things. There was one surprised glance before Elaine sighed and shook her head. “Right, right. Lucky June just got in so we’ve got someone on the bar.”

“Lucky! Right.” Roanne stuffed on her jacket, swearing when it took her all of five seconds to find the right armholes. Her scabbard was buckled on a moment later, then came the goggles and mask for her mouth. It wasn’t likely she’d be doing any crazy dives, but fast flying was always easier without wind in the eyes and bugs in the teeth.

Toki blinked at Roanne’s sudden animation that seemed to be triggered by the phone-call her friend had received and saved her glass a second before the bartender swept it away with her jump. She was about to dash after the man, that much was obvious, and as Tokarin took a large gulp of her drink, she considered how she felt about this.

Not good, was the conclusion which drew a pout to her lips. Not only did they get to meet so rarely, but their meeting had been systematically sabotaged by one man after another. And maybe it was the alcohol speaking but Toki wasn’t gonna have any of it. She came here to talk to her friend and she would get to do so, dammit.

The girl looked at Lazarus and gave him a nod good-bye as she headed for the door. She knew what would happen now. Roanne would go out and spread her wings and fly off after “Jasper”. Just like that, that’s how easy it was for her. But not for Toki. She couldn’t even unfurl her wings without risking a passing car breaking one of them, let alone get enough lift to lift off.

So she had to use a different technique. Namely, to climb all the way to the top of the nearby block’s fire escape and jump from there. She’d done it once before, although that time Roanne had waited for her. This time she was probably too distracted to care. But Toki wasn’t giving up. She calmly scaled the ladder, dusting her wings off in the process and making sure her primaries were in a condition safe for flight. They were dirty and stained but they’d hold.

Just as she reached the top she saw Roanne go out of the café and fly off. Not wasting any time, Toki spread her wings and jumped off the ledge. The dread was short-lived as the upward draft caught her safely and nudged her forward. For all she hated her wings, Toki had to admit that she didn’t dislike flying. The lash of the wind in her face and the haze that blanketed the city as she circled higher and higher were second nature to the girl who had grown up in Heaven.

By the point she reached her desired altitude the buildings were the size of matchboxes and Roanne’s form would have been too far away to see with human eyes. Of course, angel ones were different, by necessity. So it was no challenge to follow her friend, Toki might have been slower, but she was higher and that gave her a good view. In the right moment, she would dive for her friend, hopefully without causing any material damage.

There was no time to enjoy the flight--she enjoyed it anyway. How could she stop feeling the wind ruffle her hair or grow numb to the thrilling speed at which her body shot through the air, a veritable arrow? It ended too soon, her wings flaring up and beating down at the ground as she slowed her descent and landed. Jasper’s little… what to call it? His prison? Sure, his prison wasn’t all too thrilling a sight to descend on, an intimidating block of concrete and brick. It was the sort of thing any beautification committee would have demanded removed ten years ago, but no one cared if the poorer districts of Loom looked nice. In fact, no one seemed dumb enough to loiter around the building period, the only person in sight an elderly man in a gray BDT uniform who was sweeping out the gutters.

Roanne glanced up and down the street, a little smug that she’d beaten Jasper there. When she looked up, though, and saw a flash of white followed by the glint of a rainbow, her jaw dropped. It couldn’t be, right?

But it was.

And when it descended to the spot a few meters away from Roanne it lifted all the dead leaves and dust from the ground and sprinkled them all over the older woman. Toki didn’t seem apologetic. In fact, she was pouting even more than before. Her was in a braid so it wouldn’t get messed up which together with the wind-and-alcohol induced pink of her cheeks and the slight wobble when she straightened, gave her a weird appearance – halfway between childish and drunk.

“Roanne…” She moaned in a scolding fashion. “I can’t believe you ditched me like that. I still have things I want to talk to you about.”

Roanne stared for a moment, then blinked as the wind shifted a dusty leaf from her wild hair. “Uh… oh, I…” Yeah, she totally did ditch Toki, didn’t she? The guardian didn’t know how to explain such a blunder, only that her one track mind had completely forgotten her friend in the panic to be somewhere else. Jasper’s little prison block was no place for Toki, but in her rush she hadn’t set aside a time and place to catch up over more booze, so… there Toki was. And it was her fault.

“I’m sorry, Toki.” Roanne awkwardly scratched the back of her head, dislodging a few more leaves in the process. “It just sounded like Jasper needed help, so… here we are?”

The other girl’s big blue eyes reflected her hurt and blame but when she blinked and averted them with a sigh, she dropped them just like that. There was no point to get mad at Roanne, she always meant the best for people and that was exactly why Toki liked her. It would be paradoxical to judge her for her nature.

In fact, the other angel suddenly felt guilty for being so selfish and needy to chase after Roanne all the way here when she clearly wouldn’t have left the café if she didn’t deem the problem urgent.

Tokarin locked her hands behind her back and forced herself to concentrate on the present, and on others but her own petulant self. She shoved all her negative feelings to the back of her mind and smoothed her expression for Roanne, even if she couldn’t quite smile.

“I’m sorry… I just feel a bit overwhelmed recently. It’s not your fault. …so, what are we helping Jasper with?”

Roanne ventured an awkward smile, her lip still heavy with guilt as she tried to curve it upward. She even walked forward a few paces, keeping their conversational distance close so she could lower her voice. “It sounded like there was a breach or break-in of some sort. Jasper’s heading here to sort it out, but I wanted to make sure nothing was too out of hand for him to handle.” She was casually lying--Jasper could level the city with the full strength of his power--but she was also never one to admit when she was being overprotective.

“Anyways, don’t be sorry. I really didn’t mean to ditch you back there, but y’know, when duty calls, it’s… sort of the gas pedal and the break. I don’t switch gears all that well.” Roanne’s gaze narrowed a bit, concern knitting her brow as she regarded Toki. “It’s okay if you stay here until we get it sorted out, you know. I don’t want to drag you into harm’s way if I can help it.”

Toki, who had nodded in understanding at Roanne’s reasons and nodded again in mock-understanding of her metaphor simply had to scoff at the last remark.

“I can see the future and I’ve been trained as a battle angel in my past life, and you think I can’t handle myself?” It was half real confidence and half boasting to smooth her friends’ eyebrow but in the end, none of what she said was a lie. Just a bit of exaggeration to give them both some courage. “And I saved a baby yesterday.” She added, finally cracking a smile to dispel the awkward situation she’d created. “Well, my left wing did. So I’m a bit of a hero. How often have you been proclaimed a hero on TV?” It was friendly banter but the way she said it was so unconvincing that it sounded like a ridiculous self-irony instead of boasting and that made the girl smile even wider. “We’ll be fine. I’m sure between two angels your friend is going to be as safe as he possibly can.”

Roanne snorted, smirking as she folded her arms. Toki was right--she was no pushover--but it was Roanne’s duty to protect innocent angels, not lead them into a conflict where said angel might get hurt. She thought about saying as much, but with Toki’s cheery boasting and the fact that she totally did ditch the angel earlier, she couldn’t brush aside the help. No, Roanne decided letting Toki in on Jasper’s strange and dangerous world would make them even for the earlier abandonment.

“Oh, whatever, catching a baby with your wing makes you a hero?” Roanne flexed her shoulders, hands on her hips like she was a superhero. “I keep these streets clean even in the darkest moments of… gang history? We can brag all day, but you know me not being on T.V. makes me the bigger hero. Justice has little reward!”

“So all you’re missing is the cape and the silly badass name.” Toki chuckled, taking a mental note of trying to draw Roanne in a superhero costume when she got back. Then she remembered her own costume and how easily she’d let the assistant convince her to buy it and thought maybe instead of drawing it, she should straight-out buy Roanne one. “You seem awfully unprepared to save the day today, Roanne. I think I might need to take the lead role today.” She gestured at herself and stuck her chest out. “Unless.” She paused and her voice ditched into a very sly tone. “Unless you have your costume stashed somewhere convenient at Mr Jasper’s residence.”

When did Toki become quite so… Roanne couldn’t help but blush. She didn’t have the subtle flush of a lady whose cheeks might turn a pretty pink. Her face went full lobster, obvious and entirely impossible to hide as her mouth struggled not to gasp. Naturally, what Toki called to mind had nothing to do with superhero garb. Exactly what sort of costume was the ‘innocent’ angel imagining Roanne wearing for the fashion blind Jasper? The images coming to her mind were, well--

“I don’t do the whole ‘costume’ thing, thank you.” Roanne’s higher pitched voice adopted a sense of decorum as her arms folded back over her chest. “No lead roles for you--I’m the veteran here. And you know, you’re really not going to like what you see. Just… whatever happens, let me explain later, okay?”

The younger girl, who had indeed been talking about mere superhero costumes, found Roanne’s mortified reaction puzzling at first. Then she realised how red the woman’s face had become and remembered her own flashback from the other day. The result was the instant (further) reddening of her own cheeks and an awkward laugh. “Yeah… sure.” She said, happy to change the topic. “Just…” she pointed to Roanne’s neck and advised in a small voice. “…cover up…”

If Jasper had only realized what he’d be stepping out of his car to, he might have reconsidered his approach. A pair of blushing young angels wasn’t exactly what he expected to see standing awkwardly outside of the center, but as Alba stepped out of the back of the dark sudan to open his door he stepped past the bulky demon...and blinked.

“What are you--” he started before blinking to a stop as his mind flicked gears and caught up. Of course Roanne would drop everything after hearing him talk that way. Of course Tokarin would pal along--why wouldn't he also have to deal with a potential security risk today? It was only natural, but he didn't have time to argue with either of them.

“Nevermind.” He closed his eyes to avoid rolling them and instead stepped forward to the facility doors; they opened smoothly and automatically, never interrupting a step. “Follow me and listen carefully. The situation is dangerous but relatively simple.”

A lie, but a white lie.

The inside of the BTD was surprisingly pleasant, completely remodeled and gently clinical. Tiled floors, muted creams and beiges, a small citing area and a front desk manned by a demon doing an excellent impression of a bored-but-still-cheerful intern. She looked to be painting her nails an alarmingly intricate range of neon colors, but as soon as Jasper stepped in the door she almost knocked over her assorted bottles in haste to stand up and address him. If her eyes flicked to the angels behind him first, she didn't say a word about them. She knew better.

“Dr. J, there’s been an incident--”

“I’m aware, thank you Amy. Proceed as normal, no additional alerts.” He responded without looking, striding swiftly and pointedly across the floor with the slight click at each step. It was rare to see Jasper in any sort of hurry--gone was the arthritic tentativity, replaced with purpose as he strode for a small door to the back.

“Be aware that you will not be able to step back through this door until the situation is addressed.” He called over his shoulder as he grasped the handle and twisted it open, a surprising amount of clicking emanating from within as he finally looked back over his shoulder to acknowledge Tokarin and Roanne once more. “You may speak to no one other than myself about what you see in the lower levels, and I will guarantee that to be the case. I apologize, in particular to you Tokarin, but it is necessary.”

The sudden shift in the mood surprised the young girl whose first instinctive reaction when Jasper climbed out of the car had been to check his neck for kissmarks. She followed without asking any questions and both the interior and the receptionist were met with curious gazes and innocent blinks. As they walked down the corridor she noticed something new about the man - somehow he seemed different. Some aura of authority surrounded him that she hadn’t noticed before. Or perhaps it hadn’t been there before - she wondered, tilting her head to the side.

She started when he stopped and addressed her and nodded with a gulp. “We’re here to help.” She reassured him and peeked into the next few seconds, wondering what exactly was going on in here and saw nothing special about the immediate future.

“So dramatic.” Roanne felt an urge to crack a kink in her neck, but decided against touching it at all--apparently just scratching her neck had mussed enough foundation to reveal one of many hickeys. “Just point me a direction and I’ll get this taken care of.”

“In the lower levels there is a demon loose. Hellion, fairly powerful but in no condition to engage.” Fairly. Ricket had eaten his way through a good number of men, women, children and demons--if Jasper was right he was very nearly ready for his next apotheosis, which was part of why he’d gone to such pains to bring him in.

“If you’re going to help, come along and help me contain him. Contain, Roanne, not kill.” He said sharply, looking to her with even, unwavering eyes. “No exceptions, no excuses. Am I understood?”

What was it about the ice of those blues that made even her unable to meet them? She snorted at his shoes instead, carefully unsheathing her sword. “Yes, Sir. It wasn’t like I had plans to immediately start killing, you know.”

Maybe it was because his gaze wasn't pinning her or because the angels she had grown up weren't exactly nice people, but Toki found herself unable to take her eyes off the man's. What was it about him? He seemed so different from the beige-coloured suited man she had talked back to in the café. And it wasn't just the surprise of her friend being so suddenly submissive around him.

Then his words clicked.

“Wait.. did you say 'Hellion’? And, 'contained’?!” Suddenly she had a very bad feeling about this. Something was going very wrong.

“I did, yes.” Jasper’s voice was calm and collected as he turned to look at Tokarin. “I manage a rehabilitory clinic for the demons, among other things. I was in the process of addressing a particular Hellion by the name or Ricket when he was somehow able to escape. I have wards and guardians preventing him from leaving the area but we need to get him back into confinement before he brings harm to himself. First and foremost, we should head to his room. Follow me, please, and somewhat closely.”

The lower levels, as he lead them down the cement stairs, were quite different. Gone was the pleasant tile and soft music, the lemony scent of antiseptic. In its place was the grit and structure of concrete, the yellow hum of halogen fluorescence from nestled strip-lighting above. The entire hallway, from walls to stairs to the sloping ceiling above, was covered in carefully scribed writing in white wax-pen, thick and enduring even beneath their feet. The second metal door at the bottom was similarly coated, though Jasper opened it with ease and stepped inside.

“You will see demons present--ignore them, as they will you, but do not try to leave without me. Paladin protocol dictates that any but myself will be assaulted should they attempt to leave the subsector without my accompaniment.”

He had warned them when he did because the first of the monsters wasn’t far beyond the door--it was, in fact, settled above it some few feet in the hallway like a massive spider, it’s many legs and arms stretched out to hold it in place along the ceiling while it’s torso hung down to the hallway. With its arms wrapped around its chest and no visible eyes it looked somewhat like a mummy, its skin milky and sickly white as it turned its sightless face to the door, briefly, before swiveling back to return to its vigil.

“Cacodrem.” Jasper pointed out without looking, continuing down the hallway and taking a right at the fork. “Stay close, please.”

For a second, even after explaining the nature of this facility and his job here, Toki had thought he was joking. After all, for all intensive purposes, she saw nothing more than a handsome, tall, tired man.

But it was quickly becoming apparent this wasn’t the case. Not by a long shot.

She did make sure to walk reasonably close and didn’t question the need for Jasper to warn her not to try leaving the building on her own. Perhaps if it wasn’t for Roanne she would have had a reason to, or at least a reason to be scared. But the Guardian’s presence changed things. It allowed Toki to stare at the arachnoid with surprise and curiosity rather than weariness and horror.

While they walked, Jasper seemed to be concerned with security first and foremost. Toki was concerned with his relationship to Roanne. Well… the part she didn’t know about.

“You sure know how to pick your men, Roanne.” She whispered to her friend, quoting a line from a movie in an attempt to sound more mature than she felt. “I bet there’s never a dull moment with him around.”

Roanne snorted and smirked, eyes flicking to Toki. “Heh. You didn’t imagine me hanging around boring people, did you?” Truth be told, she needed a little humor or she might go stabbing things despite Jasper’s warning. No matter how many times he told her it was safe, that these demons were his, cleansed and bent to lead less criminal lives, she would never lose the instinct to fight them. It went deeper than her streetfighting reflexes--her fractured memories said that she had been battling Hell’s offspring for a long, long time.

And why not fight them? As she glared up at the ceiling where the spidery demon lurked, all she saw was a parasite, not a person. Demons weren’t just monsters, they were a disease, latching onto humans like a friend while they gouged out their souls. Jasper had the luxury of feeling out their brains, snapping what he didn’t like and feeling the resulting obedience, but exercising the same amount of trust without being able to feel or sense any of that was difficult--impossible, even! No doubt she’d be falling into another argument about demons and angels with Jasper, perhaps sooner than she thought.

For the time being, however, she remained protectively close to Toki. Smile as she might, her jaw was set tight, her hands agitated as she struggled to keep them from grasping her sword.

The hallways were surprisingly extensive, a veritable labyrinth of rooms beneath the complex. Though well maintained there were clear signs of damage--long gouges patched up with clearly new cement, specific patches of flooring that were conspicuously clean. Solid metal doors lined much of it, occasionally labeled neatly in white wax-pen, but compared to the spotless facility above with its soothing music it was the silence that most stood out. As they turned the corner to a flung open door and a dragging trail of blood across the floor it looked almost staged in the stillness, like something out of a movie. It didn’t seem to bother Jasper, who walked through it without stopping--his bare feet didn’t seem to leave footprints in it, and not a drop of it coated the white of his trailing wings.

Inside a demon lay on the floor, bleeding heavily from a wicked facial wound that had removed a good portion of his lower jaw. It was likely in shock, though Jasper didn’t seem to show either fear or hurry of it as he approached and knelt to the ground beside it. Pressing a pair of fingers to the side of the creature’s scaled throat, he cocked his head to the side slightly.

“Roanne, the escaped demon is named Ricket. He is not yet fully calibrated, so please be quite careful, but judging from the blood he’s also quite injured. Please detain him and bring him back here. Tokarin, you can stay with me here or go with Roanne but please be careful--something isn’t right.”

Toki had forgotten all her humour when she saw the blood. Somehow things hadn’t seemed serious until that point – not the explanations, not the spidery demon…. Perhaps it had been Roanne’s proximity which was soon to be lost, or the sight of the blood and the man much of it was oozing from. Yes, demon, but also man.

The world was crumbling. It was like clouds gathering to obstruct the sun or like ashes clinging to your wings until they stain them black. A familiar sense of foreboding. She didn’t need to look into the future to know what would happen. If she followed Roanne, she would witness her friend hurting, possibly killing somebody. And if she stayed with Jasper, she would probably see something worse.

“I’ll stay.” She concluded with a weak smile in Roanne’s direction. Hopefully the woman wouldn’t mind. Toki crouched next to the man and forced herself to be brave – look at the wound as if it doesn’t make you ill, keep talking to distract yourself. “Is he one of your employees?”

Roanne's lip twitched upward as she fought a grin. Finally, some real action! And she wouldn't even have to endanger Toki. A few strands of her wild hair slid across her forehead as she nodded.

"Leave it to me. I'll be... gentle." As a rolling boulder. To her credit, though, she didn't draw her blade as she followed the exiting trail of blood with her eyes and started walking.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Synthorian
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Synthorian

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Trade-offs


Day 9, Morning
Azel, Hazumi, Solus
Collaboration between Synthorian and Wild Wind


Azel wasn’t used to receiving visitors of the divine kind. In fact, in his safe-house under Fleet Street, he wasn’t used to receiving any guests at all.

But Loom was a strange place and if the proverb “anything could happen” was true anywhere in the world, it would be here. For one, he’d somehow ended up a custodian to the Essence of the World - an event purely driven by chance and with minimal effort on his part. So a man materialising in a room that was supposed to be protected, both physically and magically, felt like an almost natural progression to a considerably stranger week than most.

Some hundred years ago, he might have been scared. But he’d grown since he’d come to the Surface. Matured, perhaps. He had learned to recognise danger even better than before. And learned to avoid it masterfully. Really, life was just a roll of the dice, when one thought about it objectively. Fate was a whimsical little whore but you had no choice but to deal with her.

So the stranger was met with well-polished calm and only a slight look of surprise. As a second ticked by and he still wasn’t attacked, he assumed it safe to start talking.

“Well hello there. I wasn’t expecting any guests but given your rude entry I don’t suppose you really care about what I expected.” He looked the man up and down curiously, wondering what his business was here. More than certainly it was Hazumi and not himself. So the question he should start thinking about was probably “is he here to help or use her”? “Harm” was unlikely, she was too valuable not to be used. The man was in his fourties, bearded, wearing a smart casual polo-neck and a black tailored jacket. The smart casual outfit meant he could be either a thug or a businessman. Interesting.

“If you consider bypassing your invasive security measures to be rude, then no, I really don’t care what you expected.” The man stated matter-of-factly, putting his lit cigar between his lips as he walked past Azel towards the door that led to Hazumi’s unconscious body.

The demon followed curiously, his slippers dragging lazily along the polished wooden floor to the next room. “What are you?” He asked, deducing that the man could see essence well enough to find the little princess that nobody yet knew about. “And after, what do you intend on doing with her?”

The man placed his hand on the door handle and turned to Azel. “Hazumi can answer both those questions in about…” He looked down at his watch. “38 seconds and counting.” He smiled at him and proceeded to open the door into Hazumi’s resting place.

Azel whistled and leaned against the door frame. During his infrequent visits to the safe house over the past week he’d tried everything he could think of trying to wake Hazumi up, with little success. She didn’t always seem as dead as today, sometimes she would moan or twist in her sleep but for all he’d seen, she hadn’t once opened her eyes. Interesting coincidence it should happen exactly when his security system failed.

The man took one look at his old rival and friend, and cracked a small smile. “Been a while, Haz…” He lifted up his hand and clicked his fingers. Hazumi’s eyes began to flutter as she began to wake from her restless coma. “See? Right on the dot.” He said to Azel.

The other man couldn’t stop a chuckle (not that he tried) and pointed out it was better than a kiss. Hazumi’s eyes were open but unseeing. It took another few moments for the haze of confusion to completely lift from her eyes and for a frown to settle on her face. Then suddenly she sat up and stared at the two men in panic. Azel had helpfully reverted to the appearance she knew him in, so he had no doubt she’d recognize him. Interestingly, that didn’t seem to calm her.

The woman’s mouth opened but no words came out until the second try. “What’s… going on?”

“You were out cold… for a long ass time.” The man replied. “Your friend here took you in to keep you hidden while you were unconscious.”

Hazumi’s voice was rough and raw. As if someone had ripped the vocal cords out of her throat and put them back wrong, coiled. It hurt to speak. It also hurt to see – the light hurt her eyes. But then again, her whole existence hurt, even if there were no visible signs.

“How long is “long”?” She asked gripping her hands together to stop them from trembling.

“Two weeks.” The man replied.

Two weeks.... a small sigh escaped her. It could be worse. Back in the prison of her own flesh it had felt like an eternity of pain and anguish with little hope of escape. Now that it was over, it turned out it had lasted far less than she had assumed it would. For one, she had woken up.

“What has happened in that time?” She asked, not only because she was dreading the answer itself. She was also dreading a question.

“Not as much as you might think.” Azel spoke up, seeing how the other man was in no hurry to answer. Interestingly, the demon still couldn’t figure out what his motives were for being here given how he didn’t attempt to obtain or even manipulate the Essence just yet. The thought of manipulating her himself was mildly tempting, but Azel wasn’t one to temper with such power in a direct fashion, and especially not under the observation by a free radical. Truth it is, then.

“Murder and hate crime have increased but because your disappearance isn’t common knowledge it’s not as bad as one could expect. However something is going wrong with essence manipulation and it’s affecting magic, the Academy and even some more arcane-prone chimeras. You might want to look into that.” Unsurprisingly, he was in no rush to mention Lucien’s latest cock-up and the ensued Blackguard mobilisation.

Hazumi nodded stoically, trying to ground herself in the moment and forget the entirety of the last few days. Replace the worries for herself with worries for others. It usually worked well enough.

She wasn’t about to ask about Lazarus. She was a queen, and whatever the circumstances, she had to appear strong and impartial. Even when she wasn’t.

“In that case, I should be off.” She nodded to the ground and pushed herself to her shaky feet. Her body definitely remembered.

“Where are heading? I'll drive you.” The man suggested.

Hazumi glanced at the man but didn't see any reason to object despite having no idea who he was. “Thank you. The location is Lazarus’ place… can you…” she hesitated, looking over to Azel wearily. “Can you please call him? I need to know where he is.”

The demon kept his expression mild but on the inside his excitement was growing. The situation was turning more and more interesting by the minute. Who was this man? What had happened to the Essence? And what was about to happen from now on? Something was clearly wrong with her but what? And would he ever find out, or would she simply disappear from existence, leaving him the last person to see her alive?

That could be troublesome. Or intriguing. Either way, he wasn't bothered. Azel gave a small bow and went to talk to Lazarus in the other room after asking about his number. Not asking why she couldn't do it herself was a small token of respect for the time she'd protected him from Lucien all those years ago.

---

“Engaging Autopilot.” The computer of the car chirped as the steering wheel compressed into a smaller wheel. It began to move with no noise at all, and the ride was awfully smooth. No bumps or pothole affected the comfort of the drive. Hazumi has never seen such a vehicle before.




The car was sleek and gleamed in the light of the sun like a jewel. Hazumi couldn’t help but notice that this thing was just barely touching the ground, or perhaps it wasn’t even touching the ground at all…

The interior was just as lavish. Black with gold trimming along smooth lines that traced the shape of the dashboard, dim holograms gently lighting up the inside of the vehicle.
Such vehicles weren’t easy to come by and even in Loom they were reserved for some very, very special individuals. It was certainly eye-catching, impressive even. Yet it wasn’t something Hazumi could appreciate right now. Having grown up as an angel, she was never one for artificial means of transformation to begin with and while she tolerated cars, she didn’t like them.

However over time she had learned to recognise people’s infatuation with them. For humans, angels and demons alike, transport was a sign of authority. And this car’s owner definitely had a high status.

When she sat down with a tired sigh, she wasn’t thinking about any of this. Anxiety was gripping her throat tight and leaching all her energy from her. She probably should be worried about waking up in Azel’s apartment and allowing what she presumed to be one of his employees to drive her to Lazarus. But in truth she couldn’t find it in her to care. The physical pain had ceased but her world hadn’t stopped from crumbling. The nightmare hadn’t stopped and the culmination was yet to come.

“So…” The unnamed man began as the car entered traffic and began to head towards the highway. “You have been in a coma for a little while. Not much has changed, but things are beginning to brew under the surface with your absence. Heading for the Herald's Keep was a wise decision.”

Hazumi scoffed slightly and gave the man a grim look. “That's my role as Essence. You all expect me to be wise, don't you?”

Not her usual benign response.

“Oh, I know you far better than that.” The man chuckled. “The people expect you to be wise, being a Demigod and all. The Elite view you as a tool to puppet the world. I see you as someone who didn’t want this job in the first place.”

“Oh?” A hostile spark appeared in her eyes, now trained on him. “You seem to know a lot. Or think you do, anyway.”

“All that power and pressure was placed on your shoulders by politicians to keep people in control after the Purging War. You are… Were, a weapon, a method of keeping the population docile. Made by a Demon with a ridiculous vision for a future world, and used like a dirty dishrag for the benefit of a certain few. You keep telling yourself that it’s to save all these lives. But even you know that the chaotic nature of sentient life can’t be controlled or ruled over.” The man sighed and looked Hazumi right in the eyes. “But we have had this conversation already.”

Hazumi’s expression changed like the colours of the rainbow. Intrigue, anger and then shock. The final stage was when she finally understood the truth of the man's identity. Really, she should have figured it out long ago.

Her hand found her forehead and rubbed it helplessly. “What do you want, Solus?” Her voice trembled, suddenly a like she was on the verge of tears. It was impossible to hide anything from this man - a bitter truth she couldn't deny even when she knew her life hung in the balance and a secret was her last protection.

“What… No “Hi, Solus. How are things?”?” The Terminus shook his head, a little disappointed. “But then again, I do always show up when the shit hits the fan. And this is no exception.” The car had now smoothly glided onto the highway and increased in speed to keep up with traffic. “You know… your reaction is more appropriate for a visit from a Djin.” He pause for what seemed like an eternity in Hazumi’s mind. Seconds ticked away as Solus processed his thoughts. “I don’t want anything from you, Haz. Ever since I went… up there-” He gestured towards the ceiling offhandedly. “-I saw a chance to fix this mess of a planet. All that power under my fingertips, and yet I’m sat here pretending to be human in a place where supernatural shit is a common occurrence.”

Solus signed to himself, frustration showing on his face. “I want to help, but Aaurus has tied my hands.”

Well, at least it didn't seem like he wanted to kill her this time. Much unlike the first time they met after Judas’ War, shortly after she became the Musicians’ patron. Back then he had made it obvious he wouldn't hesitate to kill her given the chance. Since then he'd have many but somehow it never came to it. They'd struck an uneasy balance over time and learned to tolerate, and even respect each other.

But 'Haz’ was new. Was he saying it to reassure her? She didn't feel strong enough to look him in the eye yet but she appreciated him being more sensitive than usual. Perhaps people did change after all.

“That's sad. This time we really could use with your help.” She admitted, slowing past the lump in her throat.

“He wants to wipe this world clean, you know…” Solus said solemnly. “Start over.”

“Is that why?” Hazumi muttered and finally looked at him seemingly feeling a bit calmer. “And you can't do a thing? I'm sorry. It must be hard.” She said sincerely but continued, knowing Solus didn't appreciate sympathy. “So why are you here?”

“To help in whatever way I can without drawing Aaurus’ attention. Influence things a little.”

A small smirk twitched at the corner of Hazumi’s lip. “Now we’re talking. You never were one to sit still. I think it’s the first time I appreciate it.”
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Themerlinhawk
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Themerlinhawk Aegis Kai Doru

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Reunion


Day 9, Morning
Hazumi, Lazarus
Collaboration between Themerlinhawk and Wild Wind


Hazumi was unsteady on her feet as she climbed out of the taxi, knowing that Lazarus would be waiting for her here. She couldn’t bear to call him so she’d asked Azel to make the call.
Because there was something fundamentally wrong with her senses. She couldn’t find him. Not even if she tried.

It was a busy street but she didn’t notice. Didn’t care.
There he was. He looked worried.
He hadn’t changed.
Of course he hadn’t changed!
She had been gone for less than three weeks!
But somehow… she hadn’t expected to ever see him again.

Her steps forwards were ginger and uncertain but gravity pushed her towards him. She didn’t know what her face bore but she felt it was twisted with pain and sorrow. Her eyes were blurring already, hot tears burning her cheeks.

No sooner than reaching him she crumbled in his arms and burst into uncontrollable tears.

As he stood waiting for Hazumi Lazarus thought that perhaps it was all a lie, that he would have to make someone pay for jerking him around. It all melted away when he saw her walking towards him. Every cell in his body screamed to run to her and sweep her off her feet and carefully whisk her away to Finch’s Loft where he could lock the two of them away from this idiot world and its problems.

Meeting her eyes he could see the tears forming in them and it snapped his heart in half like a piece of rotten wood. As she fell into his arms he wrapped her up tightly and as he wrapped her in his arms he weaved a fence of essence around them. Very rarely did he use veils but this one was something to keep the world around them away. Even if just for a moment as it caused the people on the street to part around them like water around a stone. In addition to that he changed the air pressure around them so no one could hear them.

Collecting his beloved up in his arms Lazarus stroked her hair and softly whispered to her that it would be alright. With careful hands he supported the majority of her weight and the back of her head. Resting her against him; his eyes scanned the area around them. Even with her back safely in his arms he was in no way letting his guard down.

But this wasn’t a trick and it wasn’t a trap either. Just the two of them, finally reunited, rejecting everything around but each other. It took a long time for Hazumi’s heart to settle to a steady beat and for her breath and tears to calm. “Hysterical”, some might have called her. But maybe also “relieved”.

“Thomas….” She tested and even just the sound of the name almost made her cry again. And she didn’t know how to continue. ‘I’m sorry’? ‘Please don’t let me go’? Everything sounded too trivial. And weak.

She squeezed his jacket and tried to swallow the shame and guilt she felt. For disappearing. For feeling so relieved to be in his embrace again. For crying. For shaking.

A small smile crept to her lips, the compass seemingly settling on ‘hysterical’. “Stupid ‘dry clean only’ coat. All smudged now. Very poor choice, Thomas.” The scoff sounded a lot like a sob. Ordinarily she would have pulled away by now and put up a front.

But not today. Today she was defeated, once and for all. This moment was a gift. Possibly the last one she’d get to share with him.

With a wry smile he shook his head “Oh how quickly we forget how little makeup and my clothing matters.” The master mage’s own front was quickly falling to pieces and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up in public. The centuries had robbed him of tears long ago but she’d found them soon after they’d become close. Pressing eyes tight shut he buried his face in her hair and inhaled slowly.

It was such a small thing when the whole of reality could be picked apart by the right tool; but to him her smell drove away all his fears and replaced them with her presence. The rational part of his mind told him that there were questions that needed answering but his heart, starved as a feral dog drove the questions away.

Reaching down Thomas hooked his left arm under her legs and picked her up in his arms. No superhuman strength needed. With a quick shift of her weight so that she was was settled firmly in his arms he crossed out of the street to a bench and sat down settling her in his lap firmly. Before taking her chin in his hand and lifting her face to meet his eyes.

So desperately he wanted this moment to last, to run on forever and never end. Unfortunately he knew it wouldn’t but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prolong it. With his thumb he gently wiped away her tears caressing her more delicately than he’d ever touched anyone in his life, he was sure. It was almost as though he was afraid she might shatter into a thousand pieces and rip his heart away with her.

“I missed you Hazumi-” The Necromancer’s voice broke and he had to bite down to keep from his own tears.

The pain from his words was unbearable. It was larger than a thousand deaths. And those simple, wonderful eyes… They were hard to meet.

But she tried. And she tried to believe this is true and not just another trick of her mind. It was true. She was here, in his arms… and ‘it will be alright’.

Her gaze faltered and she dropped her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms rightly around him. She didn’t want any distance between them, not even just air, not even just enough to see his face.
She didn’t have to. She felt his body against hers, his breath in her neck, his warmth all around her. If death were to come to her, then this is how it ought to be. And if it were to retreat, then this is how life itself should resume. This is all she needed. This odd body and the wonderful soul that resided within. Here. Next to her.

But what about him?
He had the right to know.

She braced herself, against him. “I am so sorry for leaving you…” Her voice was so pained. “And… I lost all my power.” She finished. And it took all she had not to plead him to stay despite.

The statement seemed to tickle the back of Thomas’ mind but he pushed it aside. Having her here in his arms was all he cared about as he caressed her hair. “It’s okay, you’re back that is all that matters.”

The Necromancer knew that he should address the fact that she had just suggested that her return at this point only solved his problems. The thought bounced off of the fact that she was here in his arms and his entire search was over.

Realizing that she was still waiting on a response to the fact that she was now effectively mortal Thomas pulled her back up so that he could smile down at her through misty eyes. Taking a moment he rolled his eyes at the effect she was having on him before wiping at them. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll figure that out when we have time for something less important than our reunion.” With that he pressed her back to his chest and wrap his arms tight against her so that she was right against his chest.

Safe

The thought hit him that his either made her much safer or much more vulnerable. Either way she was back in his arms and that was something he could work with. The parts of his brain that were less wired into emotion tried to begin planning but the huddled weeping form of Hazumi was too much for him and his full attention turned back to her as he stroked her wonderfully soft hair. She needed something more immediate than for him to protect her. Hazumi needed his acceptance and assurance. Tugging her face back up he smiled at her before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.

Kissing a goddess never got old and this time was no different. Even without her powers she was still the only thing in this life that he worshipped. The world saw them as dangerous; he had won the Essence of the World's heart and she was a dangerous weapon. No one even stopped for a moment to consider that the reason might be that he never saw her as a weapon. Not once from the day they had met.

Pressing his lips to hers firmly he savored the feeling of his heart fluttering at the contact. For a brief moment he was back in her office; the feeling of their first kiss as though his cold grey world had suddenly had a bucket of paint dumped across the whole of it and the colors hurt his eyes. Snapping back to the present he could taste the warmth of her lips and the slight salt of her tears where they had rolled down her face. Twisting her so she was facing him he pulled in essence and sent it outward in a rolling wave. It was similar to the earlier veil only it blurred them from existence and sent those around them scurrying like mice. Not sure why they were running. It was a simple trick and wouldn’t last or work on anyone essence sensitive but it bought them some much needed privacy.

Perhaps people were right to say “seal it with a kiss” because at that moment her worries eased, replaced magically with the overwhelming sensation of security. After all, words could lie but his kisses never could. And he made it last, this simple, wonderful, reassuring feeling that no magic could ever evoke, no matter how strong. No magic other than love. So she finally focused on the present - on his warmth and his affection, and kissed back, remembering all the times they've been together.

For all the decades they'd shared, it had never been enough. At first she was scared, timid, intimidated by a man she was falling madly in love with. A man so deeply hurt by the death of his beloved, so willing to trust her. Then they had to protect what fragile safety they had found in each other against the Academy and the Peacekeepers, only for it to be ripped from them by Sathanus. And now… now this.

It was just another challenge to be overcome.

“It will be alright.” he loved telling her. But sometimes she forgot he really meant it. She took a breath that felt like the first in forever and stroked his chest. “It is alright, in your arms. We're here, aren't we? As long as you're beside me, I need no other magic.” Of course, that was wrong. The world wasn't that forgiving. But in this moment it was the only truth in her heart.

Clasping her hand to his heart Thomas smiled as she touched him. Cradling her he nodded - this was all they needed. Shifting her so that she was held in his lap comfortably and carefully. The rush of people had died down and with a flick of his hand he rearranged organic and inorganic particles weaving them into a blanket that he cast of the two of them. Keeping her close he kissed the side and top of her head kissing her over and over again. Making oh so certain that she was real as his tears dripped down over the sallow skin of his face.

“Don’t...don’t leave again. I don’t know what happened and right now I don’t care at all. You are all that matters to me. I don’t care where I have to follow; just don’t leave me again. That’s all I’m asking. I will do anything, I will stop anything, just name it.” Squeezing her tighter to his chest he was suddenly very angry and very afraid. All of the sudden the world was a threat that needed to be ground under his heel to protect her. Every single threat could be neutralized and...The thought trailed off as he continued to stroke her hair.

There was no way he could do this. I didn’t matter that she had no powers; he’d always wanted nothing more than to protect her and keep her away from the light of so many burning gazes.

“Can we go home now love?”

All of the sudden the ring in his pocket was no longer a reminder of something. It could have a future now…

Hazumi nodded and finally managed a smile. “I never want to leave you again. You are the only meaning of 'home’ for me. You are all that matters.”
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Synthorian
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Synthorian

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Assembly

Unknown Date and Time


Ein stepped through the massive wooden doors and into the north Aula's warm core.

The space was majestic, meant to hold and teach a total of 150 students, half of the institution's intended students. Of course, a few hundred years after the Academy’s establishment, its growing prestige as a top-ranked musical school and later importance as a paramilitary organisation had led to an increase in population which necessitated the creation of a new Aula at the center of the south wing. It was admittedly bigger, more modern and better equipped for the various activities tutors engaged in besides speaking.

But the old auditorium remained, harboring the charm of old architecture which many of the more sentimental staff preferred. The north Aula carried on the tradition of the late nineteenth century in placing an elevated stage near the door and an amphitheatrical design of the long wooden benches and desks spreading outwards and up . It was an old-fashioned room, coated in oak from floor to ceiling with relatively small windows covering one of the walls. That, along with the grey autumn skies obstructed by wooden shutters made the space seem darker than it actually was.

Of course, it wasn't the usual place for an Assembly and it wasn't really perfect for one either. It was far from the Peacekeepers moot hall and it was far too big for it's current residents, numbering only eleven. What wasn't explicitly said was that the Academy was one of the most secure places in the world, even better protected than most Parliaments. It was also omitted that just a few hours prior, the wooden walls and shutters were treated with a thin layer of onyx to effectively render the space a magic-free zone and thus allowing maximum privacy by restricting any magical interferences.

Today they were faced with very special circumstances. Hence why only Ein and Hazumi wore their official Assembly robes. The Peacekeepers had been called in with very little time to respond which left them unable to retrieve their own gowns. As a result, the nine representatives of the three races were left boasting their regular clothes: an interesting sight providing some insight into the personalities they usually concealed.

Hazumi followed Ein in, closing the door behind them. She followed the principal to the podium, glancing at each of the Peacekeepers but not actually staring. Tradition meant that Ein would speak for her as the person deemed to be the Essence’s keeper, and he would have the ‘pleasure’ of letting the rest know what had happened over the past two weeks. Hazumi didn’t mind, and in fact she was grateful for it. The hellion’s halo was making slow circles above his head revealing only the slightest animation - a feat she herself couldn’t muster. Standing beside him, Hazumi stared into the fire and tried to detach herself from what she was about to hear and fake her own composure.

“Dear Peacekeepers, thank you very much for responding to my request on such short notice. Without further ado, please let me proceed to explain the reason for this emergency meeting. As you have heard and can now see for yourselves, the Essence of the World is back with us.
She disappeared on the twelfth of september, just over two weeks ago, and everyone’s best efforts yielded no results in finding her. However less than twenty-four hours ago she awoke in a demon’s residence here in Loom and was able to return to us.

The location of her disappearance was Heaven which she vaguely remembers reaching on her own on the twelfth, after which an agony overcame her that she compares with the moment of her inception during which the Fleshshaper knit together the souls of millions of victims of the Great War. The Essence does not remember why she went to Heaven or what happened with her while she was there. She claims the pain was so overwhelming it was impossible to keep track of time or space, and that all her attempts but one in communicating her whereabouts were futile.

She also has no recollection of how she awoke back in Loom. However, as some of you might notice, she did not come back complete.” Ein turned to the angels and humans in the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am afraid our Essence has lost her divine powers. She is incapable of perceiving and manipulating essence and our doctors have observed that she now bleeds like a regular human being with no magical abilities whatsoever. Of course, the heart of Heaven’s Gatekeeper still beats in her chest but as that was the organ originally planted inside her current human body, it is reasonable to say that it is impossible to extract that without Hazumi’s complete and utter demise in physical terms. No signs of violence, torture, or invasive surgery were found on her body, but she does report feeling weak, fatigued and disoriented, probably as a result to seeing the World in a new way.

So far, the only people to know of the Essence’s condition are us, her partner, doctor Fiera. As the information is very sensitive and has the capacity to shake the Peace in an unprecedented way, we have asked you to assemble and decide how to proceed. Should we make the matter public, and if yes, whom should we tell and under what conditions?”

The first voice to respond came from one of the human representatives. The human was in his late forties with light blonde hair and a slightly distracted demeanor. Maximilian Gent, the Founder and CEO of one of the world's bleeding edge technology companies and notorious for his slightly radical tendencies. The man's seat on the council was all but bought and paid for by his insights into essence through a modern lens but it also paid dividends for the council as he was also a practical man.

“Why would we ever tell the public? The world got along just fine before the creation of the Essence is my understanding. Are we so afraid that we think we need a weapon that was created for the purpose of subjugation just to do our job?” The man had been reading what appeared to be profit margins reports prior to Ein entry with Hazumi in tow. Now he folded them and set them aside, all business in a nicely pressed light grey business suit.

“We step up our boots on the ground, make our execution of murderers more public and we show the masses there is nothing wrong, Hazumi is back, everyone can rejoice.” His tone was bleeding sarcasm “We already exist in an orwellian world so I hardly think a little more deception to keep the rates down for now is a problem. Besides if she still has the gatekeeper’s heart beating in her chest it seems to me there is no reason why she can't get her powers back. That and it hardly seems like she's in danger…”

Maximilian was of course referencing the hair raising sight of The Herald in the hallway outside of the room. Having walked passed the necromancer on his way in he'd gotten a good look at the pair of massive zombie mastiffs flanking their master who was waiting patiently for the meeting to be over.

“More importantly, unless or until she does get her powers back, what exactly is the point of this little coalition?” Pierce was characteristically blunt as always, a petite woman with a shock of peroxide hair cut in an angled bob. In her robes she was an elect of the council same as any other, dignified and professional, but in a red hoodie four sizes too large and a pair of high top sneakers she didn’t exactly look the part. Still, she watched the others evenly over laced fingers, her voice as wry as the businessman’s had been. She’d been an easy choice when it came to choosing a representative for the Peacekeepers--her clairvoyance was impressive even by the standards of her limited kin and she wasn’t at all afraid to cut to the heart of the matter.

“The Peacekeepers are predicated on our ability to prevent demons from doing what demons do; without the ability to know if they do it, how exactly do you think we can expect to maintain any sort of legitimacy? We can lie about it all we want, but if we’re flying blind it doesn’t change the fact that it will come out and we will be looking at a significant percentage of the world’s population whose entire existence is based on devouring the rest. I’m surprised we’re not calling for an evacuation.” Flicking her eyes to the other angels on the council, her sharp little hummingbird wings gave a nearly subsonic flutter before returning flat to her back as before.

Ceri was silent, listening to the discussion and wondering just how long this could go on for. Years, if they allowed it. Hours certainly. She studied her companions, contemplating each and every one of them. These were the people she had to work with, to help maintain peace, yet as the discussion began, Ceri wondered if they had always seemed so stupid, or if something about her had changed. Probably the latter. She closed her eyes, and shifted, breathing in and out slowly, as if trying to maintain her patience. Ceri was normally known for her patience, yet lately it seemed that just about anything had her a step away from exploding. With a heavy sigh, Ceri decided she couldn't maintain her silence.

"Maximillian, the problem with that is by becoming more strict, we risk people seeing us as unreasonable. Oppressed people bring about more venomous thoughts, and ultimately bring out a revolt that will leave the population sorely depleted. Think of what a war could do, and the statistics that could very well bring about-life loss, land destroyed. The general population are happy to think that we keep the dirty laundry hidden, throw it out, and there will be problems. And sooner or later, it will be noticed by many Hazumi's lack of power.

Yes, the world has survived without an Essence before, but having an Essence is essential in maintaining the peace." She shook her head, smoothing her dress of imaginary wrinkles, looking to Pierce now. Maybe he assumption about he comrades becoming stupider than they had been was correct. "the point of this is to develop ideas about what we can do to ensure chaos does not rain. It's so we can get a handle on this situation before things get out of hand." She brushed back her curly red hair from her face, wondering if she should have put the long, difficult to maintain hair up in a bun, anything to have the semblance of a well-maintained appearance, yet the well-built young woman did certainly leave a striking impression. Pale skin that seemed to glow, nails painted a shocking, vibrant red, a tight dress that showed off her curves, yet tantalisingly hid her chest, and brilliant green eyes that seemed to pierce the soul.

"Calling for an evacuation will cause a mass panic. We can do something about this situation, we just have to figure out what."

Dilgar, a Hellion who had lived most of his life in Hell, scoffed loudly and then raised his hand sarcastically as if it was necessary at all. He wasn't ancient but he seemed to really believe in the superiority of his mind.. and consider it an excuse to behave like a jerk. Sadly, his physical power meant he rarely met sufficient opposition. Peacekeepers were chosen democratically and apparently many demons though he was the model bureaucrat.

“Excuse me, but am I the only one who doubts what Hazumi says?”

The woman's eyes focused on the room. She didn't like it when he addressed her by name on those meetings. It meant it was a personal accusations. After all, she was both Hazumi and the Essence. Hazumi was the weaker part.

She didn't flinch. But she couldn't help it when the suggestion to read her mind left his mouth. Instantly her blood was boiling.

“Are we really going to accept that half-assed explanation of what happened? Do you remember Judas? And even before that, I heard she wiped out a ton of Academy students back in 2012.” Hazumi's mouth opened to protest but he continued. “So what's to say she hasn't done it again? Went and gave the next dictator a gift. For all we know, the Essence is indestructible, the Instruments still exist… so where is that power?”

The woman stared at him violently, clenching her jaw shut. The halo over Ein’s head was picking pace. If it came to it, would he protect her?

“So I suggest we read her mind. See for ourselves exactly what happened.”

“I'm sorry, as I have no powers left I also have no means of showing you…” Hazumi hissed through gritted teeth. “Oh it's ok, I'm sure we'll find someone who can break in, as things are.”

“Outrageous!” Hazumi exclaimed, unable to take it any longer. “Are you insinuating you don't trust me?! That your faith in me was entirely predicted on my powers alone?! I have made mistakes, and so have you. All of you! Are you saying that's reason enough to violate my mind?!”

“Why would you consider it a violation? It doesn't have to be, if you're willing. After all, you serve the people, right?” He smirked. A cold wave passed through Hazumi. He had her.

“I serve the people. Not you. I'll comply with what's decided.” She said. Lied. There was no way she'd let them. If she could help it.

“How about you still your tongue, Dilgar… Before I cut it out and force it down your throat…” Garvagh was ancient, enormously tall, with horns that could puncture the weaker Hellion’s face with ease should she wish to do so. She is the daughter of the once Warden of the Northern Realm, Corvax, Mephistopheles’ right hand and advisor, before the Demon Lord was cut down by the infamous Solus Grim.

Having been forced into this meeting without formal preparations, she was still brandishing her massive SawBlade and Qun Armor.

“We will not resort to manipulating the soul of ANYONE.” Her armored hands clutched into fists, ready to pummel the pompous fool into oblivion. Her breath heaved, and molten ashes escaped the mouth of the helmet as she attempted to contain her rage. That was the trouble with the Qun. They were bred for war, and were constantly consumed by rage and a lust for combat. Hence her position as the current Commander and Chief of the Black Guard. Despite her genetic vices, she still has a tactical head on her shoulders. Investigation and wisdom came first, but sometimes, like in Dilgar’s case, a good backhanded strike that would send the demon across the room would be more that satisfactory. This, however, was not the time.

“We need to think about the now. What’s done is done.” Her armoured head turned to Hazumi and addressed her directly. “What about Sameda? Would it be a suitable replacement under a capable wielder while you search for your lost power?”

Maximilian's eyes bulged at the suggested violation of the Essence; it was amazing how savage these beings were. For all their magic and their superiority complex they were incredibly crude in their execution of...well everything really. As Dilgar continued the vein on Max’s temple pulsed as he bit down on his tongue doing his best to continue keeping the veneer of the cool multi-billionaire CEO.

It went rather well and then the leader of the Blackguard opened her mouth and said everything that Maximilian wanted to say. Settling back Max folded his arms with a rather smug look on his face until the word Sameda came out of Garvagh’s mouth. It went without saying that there were lots of people and lots of things that lived in and around Loom which were fully capable of doing a fair bit more than the council of Peacekeepers were comfortable with. Some of them were the relics of Judas’ age much like the necromancer in the hallway. Some were newer and more unstable and some predated all of them. The problem was the vast majority of them were unstable and dangerous. Surprisingly for all her power the Essence had proved to be the least deranged of a long list of beings on Maximilian’s list of ‘Things to attend to’. Sameda rated somewhere near the bottom third of the list in terms of stability and somewhere above the 50th percentile in power.

“And who the hell do you think we are going to place Sameda in the hands of pray tell? There isn’t a single musician I can think of who is trustworthy enough to respond to this council’s wishes and who is sufficiently skilled enough to reign Sameda in. So run that by me one more time? Why are we considering letting something that rabid off the leash in the middle of a crisis? In all honesty you’re better off releasing Sathanus’ essence back into the care of The Herald and then asking him nicely not to level the other half of Loom. Any more bright ideas?”

There actually was one who came to mind but it would be like handing an unhinged huntsman the leash to a rabid dog. Sure the huntsman could probably use the dog but you were never quite sure who was going to be on the receiving end of the dog’s bite.

It took Max a long moment to realize what he’d said and whom he’d said it to. When it dawned on him, he visibly blanched but that was all. The CEO was many things but a coward was not one of them. At least he wasn’t afraid of demons; humans had stopped fearing them in the 1800s and rightly so. Technology was the solution to the vast majority of humanity's problems and Maximilian was the conductor of the particular train. Still. One did not [i]lightly[/] imply the leader of the Blackguard was being dense.

“Dawton Gray…” The demon replied matter-of-factly. “Sameda’s primary, controlling soul is that of Samantha Beat, a now deceased musician who sacrificed herself in order to keep the instruments out of Lashiel’s hands. Her and Dawton were close, and he is the only one who can wield Sameda to its fullest, and safest potential.” The demon paused as she inspected the corporate man. “Or would you rather sit and watch as the Three Races tear down the very foundation of peace while Hazumi is weak?”

Maximilian rolled his eyes at the comment “I somehow doubt that the races will be at each other's throats that quickly. Hazumi is back which is the notable feature of this discussion. Until someone actively figures out that the Essence has no teeth so to speak we have Time. Better to think this through fully before jumping to a rash decision. Not only that you are suggesting putting Sameda in the spotlight. A merged musician and instrument. I can think of about a dozen people off the top of my head who will react poorly to us parading some thing who shouldn’t exist. As for Mr. Gray I have my own reservations.” Max trailed off as he contemplated the implications of the proposed plan. It appeared that most or all of the control he might have had was predicated on them listening. There was no doubt in his mind that they were being driven largely by fear at this point; this whole meeting was going to end with an incredibly poor choice.

The Academy’s headmaster kept quiet during the short alteration, quite impassive about the whole thing. If he had an opinion about any of what was said, he didn’t let it show. Then again, he was known to be a very reasonable, albeit occasionally very narrow-minded man. The only things that concerned him were his Academy, his students and his Essence. If he could even call her that. Either way, he was… pleased… that Hazumi wouldn’t need to be examined by those people, even though he did see the logic behind Dilgar’s questions.

He glanced at his watch – a big thing with a brilliantly red body so as to stand out from the Hellion’s near-black scales, and considered the progression of the meeting. They had much to talk about and a consensus seemed increasingly unlikely. They would probably need to decide things with a popular vote in the end.

Then he glanced at the Ess-- at Hazumi, giving her a small nod. After all, she was addressed before this whole thing happened. The woman frowned slightly at him, probably irked by the etiquette but it didn’t matter. Perhaps they would listen to her, even if she was almost as good as worthless now.

“To address Garvagh’s question…. While Sameda is indeed powerful, it is in no way comparable to what I was capable of. Indeed, it is a fraction of myself and as such, capable of assimilating foreign essence, but that would require sacrifice – willing or not. As you know, I myself would be capable of growing my strength but refrain from doing so for moral and practical reasons. In contrast, Sameda knows little restraint and I wouldn’t trust it not to act out, even if our current system of controlling it seems capable. I wouldn’t be comfortable entrusting Sameda on anyone. I am not willing to put any of my students in such risk.

As far as Dawton is concerned…. Yes, they were indeed close. Yes, he might be capable of controlling her. But to what end? Sameda is a weapon – she will want to cut. And Dawton…. Is a demon. And one who was presumably in love with her. What do you think he would do with her?

I believe Sameda would be a good display of power and authority. But the only way I can see this happen is if we erase his memories of her…. Or employ someone to actively control him while he controls her.” She left the implication hang in the air.

Maximilian pursed his lips before picking a device up off the arm of the chair where he was sitting. The item was about the size of a small tv remote depressing one of the buttons on its surface and pointed it at the wall. The device projected an image onto the wall; it was the beginning of a video of a room. The whole room was a collection of masks under cases. Hitting play on the device the video rolled forward. After a few moments a demon entered the room with two individuals in tow. One was immediately recognizable as the female they were talking about; the original owner of Samantha Rule's body. The second was a male with short black hair and the build of a soldier or perhaps a martial artist. Pausing the video here Maximilian turned to address the rest of the peacekeepers.

“Can anyone explain to me who this is?” The tech company CEO didn’t actually need the question answered but it seemed like this was an opportunity to see which members of the peacekeepers had any clue what was going on in the streets of Loom right now.

Not waiting for an answer Maximilian switched the feed from the mask room to a cut from the Academy tragedy. It was a feed from just before Solus showed up to start the rescue; although rescue was a stretch given that by that time the vast majority of Lashriel’s forces had already made off with the students they were after. This footage however was focused on a part of the room that also included the original owner of Sam’s body. Once again the younger man appeared in the footage but this time he was armed with an automatic rifle and as the footage rolled forward he shot three of the angels near Sam to death in quick order before making a beeline for her through four or five other students to make sure she was okay.

Pausing the feed again Maximilian turned and held up his hands as though to say: help me out?

“It would seem to me that there were other individuals in Sameda’s life besides Mr. Gray. In all honesty this individual” Maximilian pointed to the man in the video feed “Seems far more stable than Mr. Gray.” Max never thought the words stable would come out of his own mouth when describing the Academy’s black sheep but it was better than unleashing Sameda under the direction of Dawton Gray. The CEO had really hoped to avoid this conversation all together as Mr. Snyder had been obsessive in his search for Sam after she’d merged with the weapon.

“So” His gaze turned to Ein. “Care to enlighten us as to who he is?”

“And where are your facts regarding Dawton’s stability?” The demon interrupted the human. “The man was trained by Solus Grim himself, and was recently been selected for Black Guard recruitment. What, if you mind telling me, makes you think he is incapable?”

Ein cleared his throat and cut in, hopeful to at least partially cool the tempers.

“The man in the video is Ian Snyder, a highly valued asset in our fight against Lashiel’s forces, among others. If I'm allowed to express an opinion, I would say I consider him too valuable to be wasted in an experiment. Thus far we have taken precaution not to allow his mental health to degrade any further by meeting with Sameda in its present state.”

“May I remind you that the question isn't who but if we need to use Sameda at all?” Hazumi said, visibly annoyed by Ian’s mention. The man had a special place in her heart which was hardly a secret. “If you have decided to do so anyway, may I suggest we request that Zadkiel become part of a team, dedicated on controlling her? One person wouldn't be enough and can think of nobody better to serve as a safety net. He has been loyal to us this far, and if he puts up any resistance we can always use Lucien’s name to make him comply.”

Ein looked at Hazumi with a slight surprise in his eyes. A bold proposition to raise at the keepers of peace. Could she really be hiding something?

Garvagh responded, positively. “One one condition. We will only touch Dawton’s memories should he become dangerous. If we do so before he acquires Sameda, we will have a useless zombie controlling the instrument instead. I have recommended him based on his skill, and wiping his memories will render him incapable of doing the job in the first place.”

Ceri stayed silent as the rest argued what would be pointless in the long run. The simple fact to Ceri was that something needed to be done, and done now. Max, to Ceri, was fooling himself if he didn't think the races wouldn't be at each others throat without the Essences guidance. You simply had to look at history to know. "Those that don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it" She murmured to herself. Were they doomed to repeat the endless mistakes of their predecessors? Yes, this wasn't the same situation as in history, yet this constant back and forth could very well lead to a bad decision.

They were going to be here for a while, and Ceri settled back, content for now to listen. If she had to be the voice of reason, she would be. For now though, they could wear themselves out by this bickering. Something stuck with her though, and she frowned over it.

Trust.

If they couldn't trust the musicians that had been trained, that were being trained, then what was the point of the whole thing? If they couldn't trust Hazumi, as some seemed to think wasn't wise, questioning her as they had, then why were they here? She had some doubts about the group actually trusting each other. So. Why were they here? Were they deluding themselves that they were in control, when in fact they weren't?

Finding herself rising, she spoke loudly "You state that Zadkiel is loyal. And yet earlier Maximilian said that there isn't a single musician that is trustworthy enough. Why do we demand trust from them, but don't give it in return? Many of you questioned Hazumi mere moments ago, whether she herself could be trusted because you didn't like the explanation of what had happened. So there is no single musician we will trust, but a group of them is enough? Why, because there will always be someone watching someone else? Because that has worked so well for us?" she shook her head, and sighed wearily, "Yes, there needs to be a group for this to work. Yes, it probably has to happen. But we are speaking of lives as if they are things to throw away. Take a moment to seriously think, instead of trying to prove who has the biggest balls. This arguing will get us no where. Because there is always going to be a reason not to do something. But if we don't do something here, now, then its not going to matter. So i think the question is not who, but how we will get this to work with as minimal loss of life as possible"

She reflected on her words a moment, nodding to herself as if satisfied. "Because if we screw up, it doesn't matter. Everything we do to prevent disaster won't matter, because it will happen anyway. This has to be done. But we can't be stupid about it. Zadkiel is a good choice to help in control, potentially destroying Snyder is not-perhaps the only logical choice is Dawton, and yes, we cannot take his memory simply because it would be easier for us, only if the threat is there. Sometimes you have to take the harder road to get the results you need." And that was it, that was all she had to say. Ceri sat down, knowing she'd stay silent from here on out, unless a vote was required.

“Thank you…” Garvagh said first. “Finally, a voice of reason.” Her and Ceri agreed on such matters often. And the fact that an angry Demon Princess turned Military Commander for the three races, and the cool, collected human who, frankly, is far more mature and considerate than the rest of the people here, actually agreed of something, would have been a surprise on it’s own. But such agreements between them are almost predictable.

Garvagh was an individual of fast action and response, while Ceri, was logical and calculated, and had the patience of a Saint. Garvagh gave the young woman a curt nod, and definitely appreciated her insight. She articulated Garvagh’s point far better than she herself could.

While Hazumi scowled at the insinuation that any of what she suggested was “throwing lives away”, she had to admit the meeting went better than expected. For herself, anyway. The Peacekeepers nowadays were different from the ones she’d had to deal with some hundred years ago – people lusting power and dominance, people like Dilgar who would have rather had her remain a mindless object of unimaginable power than what she had become over time. As usual, agreement was hard to reach and required sacrifices, but the sacrifices the people standing before her now were willing to make were entirely different from the ones she was used to. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if things went smoothly – for Sameda to be free but tame in Dawton’s hands, for Zadkiel to accept their request with no complaints, for her power to be found, returned, with no problems.

Wouldn’t the world be a nice place if that’s how things worked.

But that’s why you had politicians and you had executives. The two rarely mixed. Garvagh was an interesting example in that respect. If her idealistic opinions came from anyone else, they might have been considered ridiculous but the Black guard general had proven her worth. Now if she could only smash that bastard Dilgar’s nose on the way out….

“Well, as much as it pains me to agree with Miss Garvagh, I certainly support staying away from the soul of one of our own. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen, right?” The demon in question grinned at Ein who caught himself before letting an expression escape him, even if a spark flew off his halo.

The rest of the Peacekeepers remained silent, apparently having reached an agreement. With nothing more to say the meeting was quickly disbanded, and the old aula was left silent once again. It was the ominous quiet left to fill the gaping hole of a space where history was made.

It matched Hazumi’s feelings well.
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Pleasantries


Sweden
2035

Howler and Wind Wild


Hazumi was light on her feet, a slight bounce to her steps as the long skirt flicked and twisted around her ankles. There was sunshine on her skin and a song in her head - a terrible one that a new student had composed for her, but catchy nonetheless. It had been so long since she last left the Academy that it almost felt unnatural. Since she started complying with the Peacekeepers and Lily things had been busy - so many people had asked to study her and her powers that between that and recording hate-crime there had been no time for anything else. Especially no whimsical trips to Sweden.

Well, of course, it wasn’t really whimsical. She had tried to present it as such but Lily had known her for 21 years now and she’d grown accustomed to spotting her lies. So Hazumi had learned to lie better.

But today’s trip to Sweden hadn’t been the result of a lie. Instead, it was official business. One, she thought, best carried out in an unofficial way. She had her selurgy trained on him from the moment she departed from Loom, and now, hours later, she could see him no more than 200 meters away. There was a wall between them, as well as a bunch of other creatures, but his essence was unmistakable. It was so bright that it must have been blinding to most demons and it whisped far above the ground like a beacon. Hazumi had to wonder if he knew exactly how much he stood out. Most angels couldn’t as much as perceive someone’s presence, let alone sniff it out like the lowliest demon or identify its origin. That part of her power, she figured, came from the demons.

There was a pang of guilt in that, knowing that the souls of so many were trapped within her body and now gave her power, but the world they revealed to her was worth the embarrassment, and besides, the Peacekeepers had decided she was useful. On two feet , and free as a bird. Well, almost.

But at least free enough to go meet one of the last remaining Archangels in person. Well, there was the official message as well, but that was a technicality. A mere excuse to witness one of the most majestic creatures on Earth. She still remembered the first day she saw them all in the Council building. Even to the eyes of the surface angel she’d been, they’d looked awe-inspiring. She had cried at the sight. So she really hoped she wouldn’t cry today.

She could hear laughter, and someone shouting too, and her curiosity peaked. Had he been the one to make the others laugh? Or was he teaching them some particularly amusing battle stance? Holding her breath she took another step that brought her around the corner and in front of Zadkiel.

The sight definitely did not make her cry. Instead it made her eyebrows arch very, very high.

She’d come to see him.

She saw more of him that she’d expected.

See, essence-sight, or selurgy, as they’d fancifully named it, was blind to physical characteristics beyond general body shape. It couldn’t see faces or hair colours. And it certainly couldn’t distinguish between dressed and undressed.

So she couldn’t have known that the second time she ever saw Zadkiel would be like this. The first time had been back when she was summoned by the Council to help repair Hell’s Gate. She was 24, a dark angel, and he, along with the other archangels, had been so magnificent that they’d brought tears to her eyes. She had felt unworthy in the light of them.

And now….

Did this situation make her more worthy somehow?

Either way, she had just intruded into a swimming lesson. There were a bunch of only half-dressed people around and herself, in a smart casual skirt and top. To say she stood out was an understatement.

Perhaps that’s why Lily had insisted on sending an official letter first.

But situations like this were the only thing worth living for, if you asked Hazumi herself. So the letter would be arriving long after she’d left, and her shoes were about to get even wetter and things were about to get even more amusing than expected.

If anyone had called the name ‘Zadkiel’ over the crowd, it was very unlikely anyone would have known how to respond. Most of the stares would be politely blank, a natural response to a weird name like they came up with in Heaven. The only one who knew better, who understood the name and what it meant, wouldn't have reacted at all except to take another deep breath and plunge beneath the water's surface for another few long, cyclical strokes. Fingers cupped and curled, technique excellent, Zadkiel, Angel of Mercy, practiced his crawl.

Of all the places he'd been, he found Sweden simultaneously pleasant and private. The people were more homogenous than most, the language a flowing sing-song and culture pleasantly socially oriented. That it happened to have one of the best schools of psychiatry and neuroscience in the world was no accident, but it's excellent Olympic pool was. Having never much delved into swimming as an archangel proper, now that he went without feathers he found it a surprisingly enjoyable activity. Unlike flying, which was a strain on the shoulders and limited itself to a few load-bearing joints, swimming was easy on the body and freeing for the mind.

Therapeutic.

So while Zadkiel would have soared on his vulture wings, removed and observant, Jasper Dial worked on his crawl. Every stroke was a minute correction, every motion another slight shift towards perfection. While modern angels surrendered to the human tolerance of imperfection Zadkiel was still a purist at heart, and even if it burned his lungs and made his lean arms scream he refused to suffuse himself with the essence that would trivialize the task. In his own not inconsiderate opinion he’d done a surprisingly good job of limiting himself to human feats and it showed.

As he finished his lap he caught the bar at the edge of the pool and gasped a breath. He threw a hand into the air and felt it caught almost immediately, the insistent tug pulling his light frame from the water. Liam was, frankly, a much better swimmer than Jasper--more powerful, stronger of frame. A tad younger, he clapped Jasper on the back with ease and congratulated him on a solid time in casual Swedish which the angel returned without thinkings about it. It wasn’t until he’d grabbed himself a towel and made a bit of small talk with some of the younger students that he noticed Hazumi.

Of course he knew who she was.

Most people watching wouldn’t have seen it despite the fact it was far more visible without a shirt--his shoulders tightened, as did his neck, his expression carefully a pleasant neutral. As he ran a towel over his head he excused himself with an easy thanks to Olivia, who had handed it to him, and started towards the young...whatever she was. She certainly wasn’t an angel. Not really.

“This is an odd place to find you.” He offered by invitation, towel wrapped over his shoulders. His hair was cropped shorter than it had been, long-flowing mane now a tight clip around his scalp. Lean and in shape, even without his wings there was an air of stillness about him, as though everything he did was smooth and intentional.

Whether or not it bothered him that he was functionally in his underwear wasn’t apparent.

“Odd because it’s Sweden or odd because I’m fully dressed?” The Essence smiled politely, making no effort to stop her eyes from wandering over him. It wasn’t something easily afforded to her in the Academy but this student surely didn’t constitute a minor. In a sense, he was her elder.

“Surely you must realise that this is no coincidence. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.” Some students were already throwing them curious glances which Hazumi returned with a mysterious smile that encouraged more questions than it answered. It was probably only a matter of time until the teachers noticed and asked why she’s there. She would be really tempted to give them the truth, just to see the look on Zadkiel’s face.

“I’m aware.”

Turning, he smiled and raised a hand to the other students by way of goodbye. “Apologies,” he called back, “an old friend of mine has stopped by to see me. I’ll catch you all later--make my excuses to Professor Tallard!”

“Get your girlfriend to excuse you!” One of his classmates laughed, getting a few chuckles out of the surrounding group as they waved him off and returned to practice. Zadkiel wasn’t worried--school was interesting and science had expanded dramatically of late, but his was a mind sculpted to accommodate the knowledge of millenia. His grades were not about to suffer. If Hazumi’s slightly lecherous look bothered him he didn’t say anything about it, nor did he preen. Instead he walked back to her, the smile on his face dropping to a neutral expression once out of sight.

“Do you have somewhere private you would like to talk, or shall I lead the way?”

“No, I have to admit, my plans only stretch this far. Although..” she chuckled, “with a company like this, I can understand why you’d want to find a private place for a discussion. ” If any of those boys had recognized the true nature of any of them, they probably wouldn’t be making such bold remarks. It was always endearing to encounter humans in their day-to-day lives. They were the targets of both other races, a constant victim in an ongoing war, yet they were so… unbothered. Ignorant? Sometimes. But other times, they were just facing the world with lighthearted acceptance, going about their lives as if none of the supernatural stuff around was of any concern.

Then again, people like Zadkiel went through considerable lengths to keep them in the dark and, as of recently, Hazumi herself had been employed to be their guard-dog too. All in all, what she felt for humans was an odd mixture of pity and bemused admiration. They were like children in a playground, soft, innocent, incapable, fragile. Worth protecting? Perhaps.

“I have to say, I truly am surprised to find you in such a setting.” She admitted, filling the silence while they walked, the clicks of her heels against the wet slaps of his feet. “Or at least in this capacity. They seem to be taking you as one of them. I would have expected you to teach at the very least.”

“I could, I suppose. But this University is on the bleeding edge of neuropsychology, mental imaging, and neurology; I would prefer not to corrupt their learning by including correlations they could not possibly have made with from knowledge I could not possibly have. Infusions to the scientific process can be…detrimental.”

Walking along side her, he shrugged his slim shoulders and wiped a bit of the chlorinated water from his face where it had dripped from his hair. Had he wished he would have been dry already but no--her presence didn’t change his goals here.

“And there are certain credentials that I require for activities I intend to undertake. I have turned away from the world for long enough in my grief, though I will admit to some disappointment that I was so easy to find. I will need to be more diffuse, it would seem.” The campus was lovely in the bright weather even if it wouldn’t last for long--spring and summer went by all too quickly at latitudes like this, but all the students that could manage the time were out enjoying them. He nodded good-naturedly to a few that knew him as they passed, leading her back to the dormitories.

“There’s nothing you can do to hide from me.” Hazumi bragged casually, omitting the fact that half of what he said about this place went right over her head. She was a creature of intuition and scientific knowledge was about as hard to grasp for her as the notion of seeing essence was to most humans. “Besides, if anyone saw you right now, they wouldn’t second-guess the fact that in front of them stands nothing more than a young human male.” She reassured, then chuckled again. Unfit for her position but certainly not for her young body. “Unless it’s a pretty powerful demon Lord. But then, I know you have your little ways of dealing with that too.”

It was odd, the way she was behaving. Almost like a teen grown up too fast, a mature body with a mind that’s yet to catch up, too eager to impress. Indeed, the last time she had seen Zadkiel had been before she became the Essence, back when she was little more than a dark angel. And she had been so awed by the sight of all seven archangels, she had cried for the first time since her mother’s death. Perhaps she was too eager to prove her worth to someone who had a few years on her when it came to understanding the world. After all, she was in this position because she had to be, not because she was the best candidate. Talk about wisdom and you could see the spark of bias in the eyes of a girl who still remembered her youth.

But that didn’t change the facts. Admiration was only part of her right now. The desire to prove superiority was probably stronger. Hence the easy way she mentioned just how much she knew about him. Let him be aware, hopefully even intimidated, by her power… like she once had been by his.

“I am concerned with demons only insofar as they surrender to their base natures, ‘lord’ or otherwise.” Zakiel shrugged, cocking his head as he looked to the little peacock with a slight smile. If he was afraid or intimidated he didn’t show it, his face almost-but-not-quite human. It would take someone like Hazumi to see the differences, miniscule but present if someone knew to look. That he could hide his wings was, he had to admit, an enormous boon. Only guardians were typically able to, and it was a coveted trick for someone like him. The dormitory was a modern building in contrast to a good deal of the architecture on campus, tight and compact for the students, and he motioned her to an elevator as he stepped inside out of the bustle of the hallways.

“You’ve changed a good deal from last we met. Responsibility has never rested well with you, has it?”

Ah, faces. Something Lily Quann had been trying to teach her for years now with little success. It was only now that she appreciated why the principal had insisted on such mundane lessons. Because if she had paid more attention, maybe she would have been better at reading Zadkiel’s and controlling her own.

But the jab was too unexpected and for a moment it produced a very sour look from the Essence of the World. Never underestimate an antic’s teeth. “You got me.” She admitted, aware of the fact that it was naïve to assume he hadn’t seen it. A shadow seemed to fall over the corridor as she stopped and crossed her arms, a prelude to her next, heavy words. “But then again, we’d never be in this position if you’d done your job right. All of you.” She said, referring to the entire Council. “The others paid for their sins while you survived because you ran. And you ran again when Judas came to power. And now…?” Jasper had of course turned to face her by now and she stepped deep into his personal bubble. Inches away from his bare skin she pressed a hand against his chest gentle like a kitchen knife. Her skin didn’t penetrate his but her essence did and what it felt like was a heart-stopping surge of power, dark and tainted like the universe. It was like hot tar spilling over an immobilised heart, an essence that brought all into question only to remodel and redefine it. His wings and his very soul began to itch and burn, as if they would melt into nothing… or into something new. “Now are you ready to take responsibility?” She looked up at him with vicious glee in her eyes even as her assault continued pumping through his veins.

“Disgusting.”

It was rare for Zadkiel to succumb to anger. It hadn't happened since he’d began masquerading as human, in fact--grief, yes, but anger? Frustration? Both uncharacteristic emotions for the archangel, as he liked it. But to feel the Keeper impose herself on him, to violate him with her filthy, muddled ink she called her essence and threaten him over decisions she could barely understand? The word hissed through his lips slowly and deliberately, dripping like acid to floor with the weight of his disdain.

The pain was intense, but he had suffered pain before. He leveled his eyes to hers and his soft smile was more vicious than hers by far.

“You believe yourself powerful because you can shape the soul of things.” He said quietly, softly and gently as a scalpel. “And you believe yourself wise because you can see the essence of things, as if that alone makes up the universe. But tell me--do you feel powerful, right now? Do you feel righteous?

“No. You feel small, and foolish, and childish because life has been unfair to you and the only thing you can see to do about it is be petulant. Do not dare speak to me of responsibility, of payment of sin, my little abomination. For all of your power you are helpless, and for all of your sight you are blind, and in your pain and anger you squander yourself as a petty bully to a creature old enough and kind enough to forgive you in spite of your hideous faults.

“Now take. Your. Hand. Off. Me. Little girl.” He said slowly and sharply, through a ragged breath. “And we will talk.”

Now that loosened his tongue. Interesting how far a small display of power went with those archaic types. It went for him and her both.

What Zadkiel’s words brought forth was, interestingly, a laugh from Hazumi – an open and loud one. She didn’t remove her essence from him until moments later, lazy and somewhat reluctant. After all, part of her was a demon and as such, the sensation of dirtying, of corrupting one of the purest creatures still alive felt oddly delightful.

Nothing she seemed guilty of when she finally retrieved her hand. It’s not that his words weren’t hurtful, not even the fact that she often heard similar things from the woman she admired most, but quite simply the appreciation that someone knew her. Knew her for who she was, flawed, artificial, yet a master of her own fate. This was a respect few offered when they spoke of her merely as a tool to be used. Compared to that, even blaming her for her attitude or decisions was a flattery.

“See how well you understand me, Zadkiel? I can honestly say you don’t fall short of expectation.” Everything she felt and knew, came out of his mouth neatly wrapped into a few growled words. He definitely did have a great way with words. She knew they’d get along well.

She stepped back to give him a breath and put her hands behind her back as if to signal she was safe. A childlike smile fluttered on her lips in stark contrast to what she’d just done. Then again, in a sense she was no different from him when it came to demons so perhaps she was just proving a point earlier.

“I do believe you are ready to talk seriously now. Naturally, my trip here isn’t just to catch up on an old acquaintance. It’s not even to question why you had your arms crossed and didn’t do anything when Judas killed Melody and nearly brought about an Apocalypse, though, admittedly, I’d be curious to find out if you’re willing to share. So… do you wish to resume our conversation here or go somewhere where interference would be even more unlikely?”

“I was ready to talk seriously without your little theatrics.”

In some ways she wasn't wrong--such little displays of power and pettiness did bring a rise out of individuals like Zadkiel. As well they should have, he would have argued, especially when perpetrated by bratty demigods. Rubbing at his chest with long, thin fingers, he composed himself with a slow breath. As with all things, actions must be taken in context. She needed to feel in control, as if her immense power made people take her seriously, and that the only way she could do that was through intimidation was unfortunate. But intimidation required fear, and Zadkiel was not afraid of a girl like Hazumi.

“Do you intend to involve others in your little brutalities?” With a slight snort, he stepped off the elevator at floor 7 and started down the hall. “My dormitory should be sufficiently private, thank you.”

Hazumi followed pretending to be docile, almost as if nothing had ever happened. Looking back she would probably one day conclude that she had been trapped in the Academy way too long and that inevitably made her act out as soon as she got the chance. But she wasn’t exactly reflecting on it now, too busy staring at Jasper’s back and wondering how far one could push him before he revealed his real worth. After the little demonstration she no longer felt the need to prove herself to him - he had already acknowledged her existence and that was probably enough. She could respect the fact that he didn’t wish to control her, even if she couldn’t justify his absence in her life thus far. If he was anything like the man he seemed to be, then the world would have been a very different place had he reached for her instead of Judas.

But those were old tales. She said she wouldn’t get into it and she had to try to keep her word. Lily always said promises mattered more than gold, and gold seemed a pretty precious commodity. Reaching Zadkiel’s room - surprisingly similar to all the others around - she didn’t skip a beat before parking herself in the nearest seat she saw, crossing her legs and attempting to appear like a lady, The effort made her lip twitch upwards at the ridiculousness of this pretence but she shunned the thought and gave the man the chance to get dressed before joining her.

And he did, slipping once more into a white shirt and pants. Some things never changed, and even now with a sport, stylishly striped t-shirt with a hood hanging off the back and a pair of basketball shorts he managed to be monochromatic. Predominantly black, the white stripes complimented his white hair and the glasses he slid onto his nose--not that he needed them, but he’d been told they helped complete the look. It had been centuries since he’d bothered appearing this young and frankly he’d needed the stylistic help. The dorm itself was spartan and she’d taken the only chair, so he shifted to lean against the wall of the room. He did his best not to roll his eyes.

“To business, then. What is it you want?”

Down to the boring. “I will keep it rather simple, if you don’t mind. You have heard of the Peacekeepers, correct? Well, they want to be sure that one of the last remaining Archangels, and further yet, someone of your own capacity, will be able to fit into the world they’re tailoring. That you will not interfere, or better yet, that you will help. As I’m sure you’re aware, the surge of the Hellion population is worrying them and considering that the angelic race was nearly eradicated and is just starting to recover slightly, things in Loom are less than perfect. The Police, military and some volunteers are stationed around Hell’s Gate but they aren’t powerful enough to stop everyone who tries to come through. Do I need to explain why that’s a problem? Probably not… It turns out that solidarity among demons isn’t strong enough to deter some from breaking the Chain of Vendetta and casually litter our town with the corpses of humans and angels alike. So the way they see it, your skills can be put to very, very good use back in Loom.”
“Yes, I am aware of the issues with Hell’s Gate and the demon population. Yes, I intend to assist in my own way. No, I have no interest in working directly with the Peacekeepers, nor do I have any particular interest in preventing their function regardless of how misguided it may be. And in order to do any of that, I require certain qualifications and infrastructure which is why I am indulging the outdated academic processes required for such things on Earth proper.” The response was sufficiently canned that he must have known someone was coming to talk with him about it eventually, or perhaps it was simply what he had told himself enough times in response to his own internal questioning.

“I will admit to being somewhat curious why it is that you care.”

Hazumi’s eyebrows rose, honestly surprised. “Why we care? Do you really have to ask?” His response was satisfying; in fact, the Peacekeepers would be really pleased to hear that he had taken proactive steps to help – in whatever capacity – in the establishing of a new order. But naturally they had certain reservations as well. “You are the most powerful Tamer we are aware of. But, ironically, past experience has shown that you’re not always eager to intervene. So, if it wasn’t for my visit, how long would it have taken you to make your intentions known? If ever. The Peacekeepers have been around for almost a year now, and it hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. Personally, I admire their drive considering how much is stacked against them. And so I was curious to catch up with someone I used to revere long ago. See what has become of them and if they still hold the same sway over me.” Her eyes darted over his peculiar attire but didn’t address it.

“You.” Zadkiel pointed out, raising a finger before tilting it to her. “I asked why you care. The Peacekeepers are a predictable response to a predictable situation that have purpose now but will struggle and eventually fail. Even its members know that, and if they don’t they will in time and there is no need for me to disillusion them. You, on the other hand, are here because you feel I have hurt you and I would like to know why.”

There was something secretly bitter in the chuckle that escaped her after a short pause. “Zadkiel, do you remember the last time we met? Way back in 2014 when the Council wanted everyone's aid to repairing the Gate? It wasn't the first time we met. But you never paid any attention to me. Not then, not after. When I regained my powers as the Essence too, did you care? I ended up massacring my own sister, breaking the Gate and causing so much death over the next 20 years. Did you care?” She should stop.she was probably compromising her mission here. But once she started, the bitterness just kept pouring out.
“And now I am forced to repent for my very nature. For having no choice and no knowledge of what is right or wrong. Because back when I could learn I wasn't good enough for you Pure breed. And I never will be - my power will always seduce, or terrify or both - and I will never be trusted, because of it.
But do you care? Do you care now, about any of this? I don't think you do. I think all you can think of is yourself and your own meaningless survival. Your words are grand but your actions speak louder. You could have been my saviour, and that of many others. But you turned out to be a simple coward.”

In some ways, Zadkiel wasn’t sure how to react to her outburst. He’d been relatively sure he would be--it wasn’t anything he didn’t expect--but to hear it from the girl’s mouth...it was impressive how wrong she could be. When it came down to it, Zadkiel did care. Deeply, personally, intimately, he understood her pain and her bitterness so precisely that he couldn’t help but care even after so many thousands of years. Beneath that sorrow, though, that empathy of his, something else stirred from its ugly sleep and bared its own teeth.

Anger.

“A coward, am I.” He said slowly, evenly, his eyes never leaving hers. Look at him, getting riled up by the little-girl-turned-demigod. As much as he didn’t want to say anything the memory of that awful essence lingered like a foul scent, stirring up his own recollections of that time. Should he tell her? What did it matter? Why should he feel the need to defend himself to her? For a moment there was a heat in his eyes, something smoldering beneath the bright baby blue, but he closed them and took a cooling breath instead. One of them had to be the adult here, and Zadkiel was not going to allow himself to be roused by a child.

“There is a concept in psychology called the Fundamental Attribution Error.” He said softly, his eyes remaining closed. Delving into knowledge was as useful as it had always been--objective, intelligent, distant. “Wherein one attributes the actions of an individual to aspects of said individual’s character rather than acknowledging the circumstances that created them. It can cause difficulties, particularly in situations such as this.” Another cooling breath and he was ready to speak more directly, opening his eyes to look to her with a carefully neutral expression.

“I did not remain to fight Lucien because I was begged not to by someone very dear to me.” He said as evenly as he was able, if a bit softly. “We were...companions, you might say, though the word is insufficient for my means, but we were not equals. There are feats that I can accomplish that he could not have, burdens I bore that he could not have. And when Lucien came for us, I was prepared to strike him down...but was begged to leave, to allow him to stand in my place. Because my dear Jegudiel knew what my death would bring, and he did not want that for this world. And because he would not have survived losing me, as I have him.” His eyes burned, so he closed them. He was glad his voice held even.

“And so he died, and I lived. And I, like you, felt scorched by an existence so unfair as to allow it.” Zadkiel’s words had power--when he spoke them, the world listened. Try though he might to restrain himself the air heated, enough to smell of wood and combustion. “So when you killed your sister, when you rained death on so many, when Judas used you as a tool of destruction, you’re right. I didn’t care. Because in those long years of grief this disgusting world was getting precisely what it deserved for its injustice.” If Hazumi’s laugh had been bitter, Zadkiel’s was furious. It seethed, it raged...and it quieted as he forced another breath and opened his eyes, the temperature of the room returning to normal as his soft smile did.

“Because you’re right. There is much I could have done, and perhaps should have done, and chose not to, and I am sorry that you have suffered for that. I don’t ask or need your forgiveness. But there is much that I can do, and should do, and so I will.”

Their expressions finally matched as Hazumi's lips turned upwards in a honest and pleasant way. She felt then like they finally connected, like she'd understood something about Zadkiel that probably didn't absolve what he'd done, but at least explained it. Perhaps it would seem ironic to some that it had to be achieved through violence but yet others would understand why it had to happen precisely so. Sometimes you needed incisions to remove the dead tissue and allow a wound to heal, and this was one of those cases. Seeing the emotions that bubbled beneath the surface of Zadkiel’s cool seemed to have provided an answer that Hazumi could accept.

“Thank you.” She said despite the realisation that her opinion probably didn't hold much weight at all. “I am sorry about what has happened to you, but I appreciate the fact that you seem to be able to leave it in the past. Of course, by that I only mean ‘forgive’ and not ‘forget’. Still, it is my understanding that as beings of power, it is now our turn to take responsibility for this kind of disaster to never strike again. Or rather, to strike only the ones who deserve it.” She got off the chair and moved to the door with slow but deliberate paces. She paused just enough to turn and look at Zadkiel one last time. “I believe you have had enough of me for a while. I will try not to haunt you again unless I have a very good reason to, and I'll make sure to keep it to business. If you need me, you know where to find me. And if I suddenly disappear one day… well, try not to let others suffer like you have and do something about it. The world keeps on turning but we don’t need to keep making the same mistakes.”

“Don't be so sure it will keep turning.” He pointed out wryly, pushing off from the wall to see her out even as he put his hands into his pockets. Whatever air of power there was around him was gone, buried beneath the surface once more--a normal college student again. “It is certainly filling with individuals who have the power to change that.”

“And Hazumi--don't think that there are not things that are hidden from you, even as you are now.” He added to her down the hallway. “It is easiest to surprise those who believe themselves unassailable. Enjoy your flight back to Loom.”

The woman gave a final thoughtful nod before leaving the man behind to his life and his studies. It was a shame that his wisdom only stretched so far, that he wouldn’t stand by and teach her. But then again, she wouldn’t want that. In the end, everybody had to carry their own scars.
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BlackPanther

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Barachiel



Barachiel found himself in a rock nearby the academy. His hair was sparkling with drops of water from the rain storms he dealt with for the last few days in different location. His wings were spread out coated on small drops of water and his eyes were shut. His shirt lay in a pile near him and his arms rested under his chin. He looked peaceful overall as he rested. A part of him wondered what all was happening with Hazumi and if he should seek her out.

Then again he was neutral. He would have to wait to see if she approached him. His wings slowly lowered and seemed to melt along the warmth of the rock. Sometimes he missed being simply just a battle angel. It was so much more simple then, but he was needed. A phantom soreness bloomed on his back causing him to wince. He could never forget that pain....the reason he was the way he was now.

He shifted around his arms exposing the tattoo now on his arm. An odd thing to see on him but he wanted it. It was an interesting design and somehow added to the un earthiness that is Barachiel. The rest of him was the same as always pale yet oddly beautiful. Much like an opal. His eyes opened at a buzzing sound from a lone bee. It landed on his arm and sat there tuckered out from its long journey. A ghost of a smile graced his face as he gently moved the bee to his hand and onto a small flower in front of him. His eyes focused on the bee as he continued to air dry.
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