[center][img]https://i.gyazo.com/7c59f4e863f20effc0b6263138646120.png[/img]
[url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3775835]Aeon[/url] - [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3944356]Rico[/url][/center]
[hr]
The rain poured down from the skies once more. The clouds turned and swirled, their grey shades seemed to reflect his current mood, as [b]Charles Aeon[/b] arrived before his modest house. It was a two bedroom, one bath stucco English home with Elizabeth paneling. One of the few and rare buildings that seemed out of time, making it the only place Charles found suitable to buy then remodel back into its former glory. Like himself, it was a statement that some things never become jaded enough to be outdated. 

His shoes scrapped along the steps leading to the simple style square door as he reached into his back pockets for his keys. They jingled when he pulled them free then inserted them into the lock, twisting it quickly while he gripped the handle and opened the door. It came free from the frame and swung inward with a soft creak. Soaked and dripping with the rain, Charles dragged his feet into the first room, the hall. The wooden floor was quickly forming puddles where he stepped but he ignored them. Instead, he slammed the door behind him creating a loud thump and moved deeper into the house. 

A hand reached for the nearby closet’s handle when his shoe skidded forward. His heavy lidded eyes suddenly widened in surprise and his arms jerked outward to catch himself before he fell. Charles mumbled a curse under this breath while he pressed a single arm against the wall, then leaned down to remove his shoes one by one. He quickly tossed them to the side where they smacked the wall in his frustration over the visit. Relieved to finally be home, he casually removed his jacket and opened the closet to merely just toss it in. At this moment, he was far too mentally drained to care about hanging it up on the door back. 

The immortal then moved onto the living room. His appetite had long vanished after Lilith took her wings and sliced into his navel, the wound already healed but the evidence still remained on his clothes. The shirt had a large and wide gash where the Prae had struck hard, her words still echoing in his head. [i]Murder! Murder![/i] He kept hearing her screech during the visit, the words all too true despite his wish for a lie. It was enough to cause him to want to numb the memory and with a heavy heart, he managed to drag himself to the liquor cabinet. Charles brushed his blue eyes over the selection, ranging from expensive to casual tastes, then decided on a merlot from 1962. He gripped the bottle neck and collected a crystal glass, his other hand shutting the cabinet while he made for one side of the nearby walnut chair. 

Inhaling, he flopped into the cushion hard and set the glass onto a side table and focused on the bottle. His right hand reached in the drawer then pulled out a corkscrew, placing it into the cork’s hard, woody surface. Gently twisting it in, he grunted and finally gave it a rough tug, breaking the seal with a loud pop. 

Charles let the fizz die down, not caring that it was poorly made, while he turned to pour the darkish liquid into the glass. The weight of the liquor shifted, as expected, and the bottle’s mouth lightly kissed the glass’ lip, to easier pour its second-rate essence evenly and [i]slowly;[/i] As if putting on a facade for its drinker.
 
[indent]But the crystal glass remained empty; The bottle wouldn’t relinquish its contents, despite gravity’s insistence.[/indent]
This wasn’t normal for wine, cheap or not, as Charles’ hand promptly let go of the bottle and bolted upright to his feet. The bottle tumbled downward and clipped the table. His eyes would’ve followed it if not for the sensation of a hand drawing close, his head jerked toward the window’s direction. Someone, a short, blurred figure, skirted from view into the edges and vanished from sight towards the front porch. His skin paled in fear, causing him to step back, his foot settling into something wet. Instinctively, his head lowered to spy the blood red stain spreading from the bottle’s opening and soaking into the carpet. 

A concussive rapt on the door echoed suddenly, filling the little home with mock thunder; Five times it was, following a pause, and then twice more. Keen ears would note its melodious origins, namely [i]‘Shave and a Haircut.’[/i] Perhaps someone hoarding two bits sincerely believed Charles was a fine barber… 

The professor’s figure stiffened at the noise. His teeth clenched tightly, his fear rising within his throat and his mind trying to clamp down on it. This increase in his adrenaline was enough to sharpen his mind. Pictures and subtle clues flashed through his memories, bringing things he hadn’t noticed before into his attention. The front door knob had been fairly warm when he touched it. Despite the rain chilling the scene, which should’ve made it freezing, as if someone had opened moments before his arrival. Next, his mind floated to when he had slipped, an incident he should’ve realized was unlikely, causing him to recall a solitary set of muddy boot prints in the hall before the front door. His nostrils inhaled catching the scent of a man’s aftershave or cologne, nothing that he had ever worn in his long life time. The immortal’s eyes snapped to the wine glass, noting for the first time it was completely void of dust and a single, smudged fingerprint was dancing along the edge of his wine glass. 

The most disturbing thing of all… was the fact his golems were nowhere to be found. 

However, that short, blurred figure [i]was[/i] present, its previous sighting being no mirage; Clothed like a student, he merely stood outside, in the depressing rain, his shoes perched upon the second and third steps, with his back turned to the door. The hall’s front door had two glass panes flanking it, but the immortal wouldn’t see through them from his position. 

And again, that same melodious knock thundered throughout the house, even slower, if that were possible, as if the tune itself had patience that could be tried.

Charles inhaled, trying to control his racing heartbeat. His eyes fell upon the door and seemed to tense against whatever might lie behind it for several moments, his feet fastened in place to collect his courage. Carefully his right foot led the gradual approach to the door, his movement aired his fear too well. After drawing close enough, his eyes peered through one of the glass panels beside the doorway and faintly hoped to spy the individual on the other side. Clearly drenched by now, the figure upon his front steps shifted nervously then every few seconds, glanced back to the door before returning to stare out over the property. It was masculine in shape and possibly one of his students, though Charles doubted it at this time of night. Either way, the man had seemed eager for him to arrive.   

Carefully, Charles wrapped his fingers about the cold metal then gave it a slow turn, causing the lock to click. The door creaked open, allowing him to see… the short stranger--a young man--standing right in front of the door, looking right up at him, with a little wave and a cocksure grin as well. Charles stepped back quickly in shock. His hand tightened, glowing with a slight metallic light molding about the skin. It took every ounce of will not to immediately send up a wall between himself and the man that suddenly appeared right in front of him.  

“Nice night, isn’t--whoa!” [b]Rico[/b] said nervously, lowering his hand as the professor prepared magic.

The young man’s brow furrowed, worry tearing at his lips as he continued glancing between Charles’ magical hand and his tense eyes. [color=0072bc][i]‘Good.’[/i][/color] Rico swallowed nervously, raising both his palms outwards, as if to persuade the professor to calm down. He was too scared to move. Then, like a tic, he threw his head back a bit, forcing his black hoodie to release his dark cobalt hair, which flopped down ceremoniously. His matching eyes continued nervously trying to plead. A shiver escaped, raking down his spine.

Charles swallowed the saliva that was becoming a lump in his throat, forcing it downward into his belly weighted with his worry. With some effort, his magic dissipated with a verbal command, causing the young man to lower his hands to his side. Feeling rather foolish, the immortal knew he couldn’t allow this man inside. Something, he wasn’t sure what, was happening and he couldn’t risk the very threat going after the very guest under his roof. 

He spoke in a surprisingly icy tone compared to his usual warmth. [color=#7BCDC8]“I’m sorry, you startled me by being so close to the door. I thought you were farther down the steps, but I was mistaken. I’m not sure what you want, but I believe you might want to consider coming back in the morning. Tonight is a very bad time.”[/color]

Not giving the man a chance to reply, he started to close the door; however, the door moved but an inch before somehow resisting him. But it was only for a mere moment, for at the same time, Rico stepped a little closer, putting his right finger on the door and raising his left hand to gesture as he spoke. The door then resumed being cooperative, and the eerie moonlight illuminated his humane appearance: a plain, young man of academic potential and possibly fragile physique.

“But, it--it’s important, P-Professor Aeon…” Rico explained, breathless and worried, “... it regards that man who g-gave you his card. G-Gladwine? No, [i]Glaedwine[/i], I meant.”

Charles froze, his effort to shut the door ceased instantly. His eyes narrowed and stared at the man, feeling a cold sensation grip him. It wasn’t because the man had managed to stop the door or the air was chilled outside, but rather because of the mention of the card. There was only a few ways the man would’ve learned about it and immediately the hairs snaked upright on the back of Charles’ neck. [color=#7BCDC8]“How do you know about that? Who are you?”[/color] 

A subtle, predatory glint flicked over Rico’s eyes, his mouth twisting slightly into a toothy smirk. It was obvious that the professor was wrapped up in fear and self-preservation. It seemed to him that Charles had been completely fooled by this persona; Thus, a ‘new version’ of a device had passed its litmus test, and ‘immortals’ made [b]great[/b] litmus testers… Sighing mentally, the Prae (yes, [i]Prae[/i]) telepathed one of his men, regarding the outcome that he was asked to seek here.

[color=00a651][i]‘It is true, sir?’[/i][/color]
[color=0072bc][i]‘Totally is, Abri…’[/i][/color]
[color=00a651][i]‘Excellent news, indeed. See you tomorrow then...’[/i][/color]
[color=0072bc][i]‘Yeah, at the usual place…’[/i][/color]

There was obviously no connection to the man on Charles’ doorstep and whatever had infested his house, that much he could tell easily while they talked. This meant there was an intruder in his domain, which he should have sensed when he’d first arrived, along with those more obvious clues. That scenario was the only explanation he could come up plausibly and it was one that served only to increase his paranoia, even as he attempted to comprehend the full breadth of the threat. For now, it was just logical to deny anyone entrance into his home until the threat was dealt with. He refused to risk other people’s lives over a matter he knew little about. 

Charles’ fingers tightened about the door’s frame and gradually applied more force into shutting the door this time. [color=#7BCDC8]“I’m sorry, but it’s late and I have something important that must be done first. If you’ll excuse me.”[/color]  

“Ah huh…” Rico replied simply, glancing away at something in the corner of his eye.

Suddenly, the door Charles was about to shut simply closed on its own, causing the professor to take a sudden step back. It then locked itself with a metallic click, after which the entire knob itself promptly fell off and clattered onto the floor in front of him. And outside, came a voice entirely different to the one that the professor had been listening to; that of a young, eager student was replaced by an older, slightly raspy yet soothing melodious tone, the kind of voice that drawled on in your ear drums and refused to leave.

[color=0072bc]“Aeon…”[/color] Rico stated, an edge in how he said Charles’ last name, [color=0072bc]“we can do this the short way… or the long way… entirely up to you, man. I just want to… [i]talk.[/i] That’s all, really…”[/color]

[color=#7BCDC8][i]That voice…[/i][/color] Dread dropped into Charles’ stomach the moment the words scratched across his mind as a memory fell from his shelves of memories and burst open. The smell of rustic blood, life deadening from his limbs, and finally his sight fading fast closing in on his attention caused him to flinch. His right foot took a step backwards as his left shortly followed, his legs bolting for the kitchen on pure instinct rather than thought or logic. The sense of dread increased like a dead weight within his gut and seemed to slow him down, despite how much he pushed his limbs to increase their speed. 

He jerked around the table then reached for the back door’s knob. The only thing he wanted to do was put as much distance between himself and that voice, else he was going to experience nothing but pain again. He was immortal, so death meant nothing. Pain, however, was another matter altogether and something he usually avoided when he could. Yet as soon as he twisted the doorknob, it came off of the door; The temperature of its metal was warm, and getting hotter by the second. But then a familiar rapt on the back door echoed, the first 5 notes of that 7-note riff again…

[color=0072bc]“Two bits,”[/color] Rico finished boredly, his drawling voice slightly muffled by the door.

Charles’ hand dropped the knob when it came off into his palm, the surface sizzling his palm from holding it too long. His mind tried to frantically recall the last time he heard that voice. Inwardly, he hoped it would shed light on the unknown and the fear would fade away. All he got was the sensation of dread getting worse, and twisting more in his middle. It did nothing to help him as he turned back to the door where the knocking had happened.

For a moment, it seemed like he was about to face the fear that lurked there. Yet he didn’t move. 

Something was happening here and it was obviously unnatural. His mind was making it difficult to focus while he tried to expand his senses into the house, his hands balled into a fist at his sides and his body stiffened. The ageless man’s eyes scrunched tightly close to shut off the visual side of the fear, but it was only a bandaid to the true chaos of basic human emotion stirring underneath his surface. 

Sweat beaded down his brow as his nostrils made a sharp sucking sound when he pulled air into his lungs then exhaled. Something wasn’t right… Something wasn’t right… the phrase repeated over and over in his head, the sensation was doing nothing more than fuel his already roaring fear. Within his little library of memories, the immortal scrambled through the numerous shelves for any assistance he could find. Memories were scanned quickly, pushed on by his heart’s rough pace, then shoved to a pile when they proved useless. What was wrong? Charles asked himself, but the answer seemed to linger just out of his grasp causing him more frustration than terror. 

[color=#7BCDC8]“Leave me alone.”[/color] Professor Aeon said in a hardened tone, finally coming up with an answer.   

His eyes snapped open while his hands glowed. The fists appeared to be covered in vis that shifted through the metallic color spectrum, much like mother of pearls. Around him, places in his surroundings shimmered and formed into distinct canine shapes about the size of wolf hounds. Their coats were thick and shaggy with thick muscles coiling underneath, their figures slightly transparent. The golems stared with deadpan eyes at the door where the imposter had chosen to remain. 

Charles realized that there was likely only way out… and was through the one exit he feared going back to the most.        

Rico smirked as Charles manifested his golems. A cerulean beam of light emerged in his mind’s eye, overlaying a mental display on his pupils; It detailed a brief summary of the golems’ expected capabilities, as well as the Vis interactions between them and their creator. The display then vanished, as he mentally willed it away. 

[color=0072bc]“I plan to, Aeon,”[/color] Rico stated flatly, [color=0072bc]“... but this would be over much quicker if we could--oh, what’s the phrase. ‘Have a civil discussion.’ … Yeah, that.”[/color]

Aeon’s eyes zoomed onto the door, his reply was nothing more than silence. He didn’t dismiss the golems because he knew once he did, he was left defenseless. His terror rose into his throat and seemed intending on choking him as he began to force himself to move toward the door. It would be a lie to say he didn’t want to turn back or flee, but considering he was stuck in a corner, there was little point in giving into his first instinct now. [color=#7BCDC8]“If you excuse my assumptions, I have a hard time believing that.”[/color]

His hand reached out, scratching tentatively at the wooden grains of the door. [color=0072bc]“Reasonable, given what happened last time. Yeah, I totally see that, man. And I learned my lesson. A repeat of that would just be… [i]redundant[/i].”[/color]

[color=0072bc]“Would it help if I put myself at your mercy? You seem to like mercy, if I recall,”[/color] Rico asked him.

A confused expression crossed Charles’ face for a moment, fighting another flinch when he was reminded Rico was still behind the door. His mind quickly searched for what the man meant about the last time. Gradually, he located the ‘book’ then flipped it open to refresh his memory. The story flowed smoothly until the last few pages which were suddenly blank. He didn’t like this one bit and his fist balled up harder, his nails digging into his palm while he spoke. [color=#7BCDC8]“I get the feeling it didn’t end so well last time. However, your words indicate you won’t simply leave, a fact that I don’t enjoy very much. It’s surprising you have not already decided to infringe upon my property.”[/color] 

[color=0072bc]“Well, you chose how it would end last time. So, you only gotcha self to blame, man,”[/color] Rico laughed, ignoring the rest of what Charles said as he leaned against the door.

[color=0072bc]“But yeah, it’s your house. Invite me in if you wanna get this over with so badly, right?”[/color]

Once again, Rico knocked on the door, using that same 7-note tune. He really seemed to like doing that. [color=0072bc][i]‘He seems more interesting this time around. More… malleable, I think? Hmm…’[/i][/color]
 
[color=#7BCDC8]“Fine. Come in, but be warned… I’ll not tolerate any deception.”[/color] Charles stated, his figure stiffened and turned to his hounds. [color=#7BCDC8]“To heel.”[/color]   

Satisfied, Rico cracked his knuckles together, arms outstretched. Lowering his arms, he willed the door to open. His eyes were already staring up into Charles’ as it did, as though he knew exactly where they were. 

[color=0072bc]“[i]Thank you[/i],”[/color] he stated, as he walked through the doorway with a casual gait.

Rico didn’t seem the least bit wary or nervous as he regarded Charles. [color=0072bc]“No deception, huh?”[/color] he asked, pocketing his hands.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. [color=0072bc]“Think I can do that,”[/color] he said. 

Without warning, the entire image of Rico’s student persona: the hoodie, jeans, and a backpack, it all began to contort and twist like it was some kind of nightmarish plastic; Even parts of his skin writhed, though not his hair or eyes, the latter still trained on the professor as he transformed. Then, like paper being eaten away by little flames, the entire skinweave seemed to just burn off, revealing a tanned skin Rico, muscular, and [url=http://i.imgur.com/Zni8gms.png]armor-bound[/url], which matched his dark cobalt hair and eyes. His crystal shone brilliantly with dynamic pulses, as though breathing laboriously, while his Prae tattoos shimmered in the moonlight. More importantly, his Vis no longer registered as human to arcane senses.

[color=0072bc]“Better?”[/color] Rico asked, strolling past him towards the living room, his heavy boots making his presence as a Prae in the flesh much more real for the professor.

Charles forced himself to remain where he was standing, his body cocked where his left side was facing the now revealed Prae. Something about the way his face ‘melted’ away drew a disgusted look and made his lips turn up into a thin line. He should’ve realized it was a Prae that was doing this but strangely, the Vis was now only starting to resemble what was currently infesting his home. It was almost as if Rico had spreaded and merged with the very surroundings, becoming one with it. 

His head turned to follow the now revealed Prae into the living room. The hounds stuck close to his figure, careful not to get into his path while the immortal cautiously stepped in the ‘guest’s’ wake as far as the doorway. He spoke, hoping to end this visit soon and move on from it, with a soft accuration to his voice. [color=#7BCDC8]“Now what reason would require me to have the unwanted pleasure of entertaining a Prae within my own home?”[/color]   

Rico made himself comfortable on the couch, crossing his legs and looking up at Charles as he spoke. He noted his insistence to remain standing, and nodded. Taking his time, he turned his head aside, glancing down at some nook in the upper chest portion of his armor. A large green apple floated up and right into his hand, which he began to peel somehow with his other hand’s thumbnail. His eyes remained locked on Charles the whole time he did this, as though the Prae was transfixed on the immortal’s innermost thoughts.

[color=0072bc]“As I promised, I’ll keep this short. I have other things to do, too,”[/color] Rico iterated, his hands smoothly carving the apple very slowly and methodically. 

He paused deliberately, including his apple-peeling. Not necessarily to keep Charles in suspense--although he didn’t care if it did--but to remind himself of a certain fact that his past experiences taught him about the professor. [color=0072bc][i]’Fate’s already got this guy’s soul in the grinder…’[/i][/color] he mused, sighing lightly through his nose.

He resumed peeling his apple. [color=0072bc]“I’m blackmailing you, Aeon,”[/color] he said plainly, as though such a thing was an every every occurrence.

[color=#7BCDC8]“For what purpose? I doubt an immortal teacher would have enough influence to aid you in what scheme you might be brewing up.”[/color] Charles stated, his voice managing this time to keep calm. Though he wasn’t sure how long he could keep the airs on while within Rico’s presence, his eyes careful not to close and try to soothe his ruffled emotions. 

The peeling of the apple didn’t help matters very well causing him to frown at seeing the man ‘peeling’ what he viewed to be symbolically him.   

Rico paused at that question, considering it. The string of apple skin hung off the side as his hands ceased moving, his thumbnail almost twitching as it waited to resume. The Prae considered his words carefully.

[color=0072bc]“Well, I simply would like to ask you to… lead that little resistance group forming up. You know the one, it just had a meeting. Initiated by that … appalling Eximius, Glaedwine,”[/color] he said.

Charles blinked then raised his left eyebrow in question. Rico resumed peeling, being halfway done. [color=0072bc]“I’ll clarify… I want you to become the group’s leader… and lead it. [i]Successfully[/i],”[/color] the Prae enunciated, narrowing his eyes at the immortal.

He smirked then; he simply couldn’t help it. [color=662d91][i]‘Haha, boss, I can feel your jubilations!’[/i][/color] he heard a female voice squeak in his mind. He ignored it, for now. Charles’ next reaction was important, as well as his response to the idea in general. He wasn’t going to miss it.

Charles thought for a moment, then continued. [color=#7BCDC8]“And why would you think I would be able to do this? My history with conflict often ended with me ‘dying’, then waking up in some field when it was all over. In addition, they already have chosen a leader and so the role you’re asking me to take is already fulfilled.”[/color] 

Rico cocked his head slightly, taking in the information. He chuckled. [color=0072bc]“Whether you can pull this off now, or can do so later on… is irrelevant to me. And…”[/color] he paused again.

He looked down at the hound at Charles’ heel. [color=0072bc]“If that is true, then this ordeal for you will simply have to be a work in progress.”[/color]

He sighed, looking away at the window, beyond which rain continued dashing the ground. [color=0072bc]“Even in Paradise, fulfillments seldom fulfill,”[/color] the Prae stated cryptically, his voice almost a whisper. 

It didn’t make sense to Charles why a Prae, of all beings, [i]wanted[/i] him to lead a movement that sought to overthrow the very foundations of the occupation within the city. There had to be some hidden motivation or plot he was missing, but his mind couldn’t grasp what it was within his current state. His arm reached out to brace himself against the door frame and remain standing, his focus returned to Rico’s quiet phrase. 

[color=#7BCDC8]“What does it benefit if it’s me or another leading this movement? There’s little improvement in its success unless that’s what you’re counting on?”[/color] The immortal questioned, his eyes hardened at the thought of being a pawn sent in to sabotage something the Prae viewed as a threat.  

Rico stopped short of peeling the very last layer of apple skin--one more rotation, and it’d finish. Lowering his meal into his lap, he once again regarded Charles, a look of sincerity in his eyes. Though given Charles’ disposition against him, it would most likely be easily missed.

[color=0072bc]“It would benefit … [i]your students,[/i]”[/color] Rico rasped slowly, [color=0072bc]“as in, they would live, at the very least. I imagine that if someone else took your place--someone without students--well, they’d lose that benefit. Because it wasn’t you.”[/color]

His explanation was a little wordier than he’d liked, but Charles was a complete failure at grasping the obvious. Or so Rico believed in this case. He sighed again, through his nose. In any other situation, this wouldn’t be necessary. But sometimes Fate, even in Paradise, had to force one’s hand.

Charles’ fingernails dug into the wood, burying deeply in the delicate design. His face had already drained of any remaining color he had gained during the conversation, causing him to gaze into the Prae’s eyes, who simply stared right back. For a fraction of a moment, the professor had hope to spy some evidence of a bluff but the longer he stared, the quicker he realized it wasn’t. There was dead seriousness within the Prae’s eyes, causing his stomach to twist; It felt like he had eaten razor wire whole. 

Killing a whole classroom of students, even mages, would toss both Prae and mankind into a war they weren’t ready for. His next words spoke his disbelief more than actually resisting the offer, his eyes continued to stare with pure horror filling them. [color=#7BCDC8]“You can’t. They didn’t do anything to you, why.. Why involve them?”[/color]

Rico grimaced slightly, though the dead seriousness the professor had witnessed was genuine. His thumbnail severed the last bit of apple skin, its carcass floating around the gleaming, skinned fruit in mid air. The skin returned to that nook in his armor. He then held the fruit up, his arm outstretched towards the professor; The image of Charles lined up with the apple from his point of view.

Rico blinked, lowering his arm. [color=0072bc]“Because… I can remove an apple’s skin and leave it intact,”[/color] he explained extremely calmly, pausing briefly before continuing, [color=0072bc]“so, the skin need not be involved if the apple simply indulges my designs. It is more peaceful this way. I expect the same from your students, and especially you, Aeon.”[/color]

The very strange Prae sitting in the living room of the immortal professor had just likened his clandestine dealings with humanity … to the trivial chore of skinning fruit. 

The thought of attacking the Prae developed from Charles’ rage, his eyes heated with the emotion as he glared at the coldhearted being before him. However, he didn’t react to it. He had learned a long time ago when someone held the better hand in a ‘game’ that it was better to fold; Even when he held more questions than answers from the encounter. He inhaled and spoke, his tone fighting back the pure venom he felt toward the Prae. [color=#7BCDC8]“I do this, you won’t hurt them? How can I fully trust your word on that?”[/color]  

The sheer animosity spewing from the professor reached into Rico’s mind, forcing him to avoid shuddering with relish. He stood up then, his boots clapping the linoleum floor. He strolled over to Charles, tossing his apple from one hand to the other. He stopped just short of invading the immortal’s personal space and, being 3 inches shorter, stared up at him from underneath his sharp eyebrows.

[color=0072bc]“Before I answer those questions… hit me with everything you’ve got,”[/color] Rico said, tilting his chin up slightly.

Charles’ facial features crinkled up into a perplexed manner, his thoughts trying to understand why such a request would’ve been made. His fingers tensed briefly into a firmer fist then released, forced to straighten out fully, and replied. [color=#7BCDC8]“No, I rather not give the Prae a reason to imprison me for assaulting one of their own.”[/color]

The Prae chuckled weakly before him. [color=0072bc]“ ‘One of their own’ ”[/color] he parroted as he glanced down.

Now it was Rico’s turn to exhibit animosity; Plane-dividing hatred rippled out of the Prae’s Anima, touching upon the immortal’s mind briefly and, for a microsecond, letting him experience a living Hell; Like that moment you feel a match burning your finger. You’d pull away normally, but no, imagine it paused and focused entirely on that moment, experiencing that sensation unceasingly, [i]forever[/i]. And although it was directed at Charles, it was hardly [i]about[/i] him. Rico inhaled explosively, taking back control and examined its effect on the professor.

Charles was taken by surprise, his mind feeling something out of place and immediately brought him crumpling down to one knee. It wasn’t like anything he could remember feeling, but it caused him to utter a single, knee jerk word. [b][color=#7BCDC8]“Attack!”[/color][/b] 

All six hounds with their eyes upon Rico made a soft, rapid snap of their jaws while they launched themselves at the Prae. Rico reacted like a veteran soldier, his speed honed by centuries of constant combat and pain. He assumed a combat stance, his knees flexed and his dukes up. The first two hounds found their skulls in their stomach as the Prae didn’t just simply punch them, as much as he shoved them down. The next two, in the air and ready to rend his shoulders apart, were tapped along their underbellies by his fingers; Rico shifted underneath them, allowing them to land as his eyes stared down the last pair of hounds. He grabbed their skulls almost entirely with his hands, his Vis having infused the hounds he’d tapped earlier. Using telekinesis, he drew all four golems together, ramming one pair of dogs’ skulls into the stomach of the other two and then bending them all in half for good measure. 

He then stood to his full height, his eyes still wide and adrenaline pumping through him.

Charles’ mind tried to analyze what had happened, replaying the scene while grappling with the hatred lingering on him. His breathing was harsh and struggling from the mind wracking experience. The seconds turned into a minute before he was able to push himself upright again. His knees still felt unsteady and wobbled slightly under his weight causing him to grip the frame for support. The immortal’s eyes looked upon the Prae, just standing there patiently, then panned about to note his hounds easily disabled. 

A fact that was likely due to his rustiness in his skills as a fighter. 

Letting his body calm down, Rico carried on like nothing had happened, because in truth, nothing [i]important[/i] did happen from his point of view. [color=0072bc]“You have my word, Aeon… besides, the last time I tried to take a student of yours, you--ah... well, you transformed into a Licentia? Or something. So I killed you."[/color]

At his statement, Charles stared in disbelief at the words even when he heard them clear as day. A Licentia? What the Prae said was impossible because one couldn’t change their own Anima, something that broke nature itself and he doubted the very being standing before him was stupid enough to make that mistake. Curiosity gnawed at him about what had happened the last time they had encountered each and why he couldn’t remember a thing. Shaking his head free of his current focus, he tried to focus on the present before unraveling the past.   

He quickly added, [color=0072bc]"And I'd rather not repeat that experience. It'd obviously be--"[/color] 

He looked Charles from head to toe, as though hammering his point. [color=0072bc]"--[i]redundant,[/i] like I said earlier..."[/color]

[color=#7BCDC8]“Considering you know it won’t work,”[/color] Charles inhaled, then added. [color=#7BCDC8]“Seeing as I have little choice, I’ll cooperate…”[/color]  

Rico smirked, tilting his head slightly at the dim professor. 

[color=0072bc]“Good,”[/color] he replied simply.

Taking a bite out of his apple, he withdrew all of his Vis out of Charles’ house--simultaneously fixing the door knobs and putting things back--and without a warning, vanished without a trace. Yet his presence remained for a single moment.

[color=0072bc][i]‘Also, I’ll check later that you’ve sharpened up. Too rusty, old man,’[/i][/color] Rico’s voice said in Charles’ mind as his presence truly faded.