Sister Sable
RPM
Zman
Shadow Dragon
Not a Sayan
Simply Not Real
Fetzen
Lewascan2
Arty Fox
Gilbert & Andromeda
Location: Lighthouse Beach, Evanston IL, 2009
Skills: History, Spear, Pistol
Skills: Alertness, Spear
The Mill looked the same as always, still and serene in the morning light. The trees that surrounded it tended to give a quiet, dappled effect of light, enhanced by gentle breeze every so often. But on the inside, Gilbert's demeanor as neither still nor serene. No coffee or pastry greeted his charge on this day of training, no words of quiet encouragement. No, this was the first day of the last Paradox, and it needed to make a hard statement.
Gilbert was hurriedly getting the last of his gear together, making sure his plans were mapped out to the second. Gio would have laughed to see the ordinarily laid-back Emendator taking such actions. He even remembered to bring his watch. "Andromeda, I am going to apologize in advance. This is not the way I would have preferred to start your combat training." He took up a spear from a rack with respectable selection, eyed Andromeda, and tossed it to her. "You know how to use one of these, correct?"
Andromeda didn't quite know what to expect as she arrived at the Mill. Each of the trainings she had undergone thus far had matched, in at least one way, the style of the Emendator (or Elder Paradox). At first, when the thought occurred to her late last night, she had imagined it would be learning to sword fight with crudely made wooden sticks. Yet as the night progressed, her imagination ran wild until she had an image of him chasing her over a volcano, while bellowing "FIGHT ME, NOW!" as she held - for whatever reason - a crude copy of Captain America's shield.
She caught the spear as he tossed it, nodding. Belladonna had taught her how to use a spear - and a whip. Now that had been an interesting series of lessons. "Yes, I do," Andromeda answered promptly, seeing that they were going straight to business. Most Emendators had begun with some sort of exchange of pleasantries, but this was the last session. She supposed they needed to make the time count.
"Good." he responded gruffly. He quickly nodded his head and repeated himself, "Good." He walked over to a large mass of rough leather that happened to be a long coat. He threw it on and then paused, looking to Andromeda's style of clothing. "You will want to change out of that dress. There is a chest with things that would fit you over there." He pointed toward one side of the Mill where a handful of said containers lay, "Ash wood with the black iron fittings. You will want pants, and something more appropriate than those heels. When you are done, pick a knife. I will give you the speech about that later." As if to give a modicum of privacy during the transition, Gilbert turned away. He looked to the rack of spears, gave it a mote of consideration, and selected one for himself.
Andromeda couldn't have been happier to get to change out of a dress. She never wore them in life and she went over to the chest that Gil indicated. She looked through it quickly, finding a sturdy looking pair of jeans, a long sleeved shirt and jacket, as well as some boots. She couldn't help but wish this would be a clothing option for every day spent in the loop. Glad that Gil looked away, Andromeda changed into her new outfit, before she selected a knife from the pile that seemed rather simple and sturdy. "Done," she told Gil, indicating that he could turn around.
Gilbert turned around. He had been busy while Andromeda changed her clothing. One such note of busy involved locating and laying a hooded long coat on a table before the pale Paradox. "You may keep this, after we are done. It is cold where we are going. And it washes easily. That last point is important."
Andromeda nodded, taking the coat. She couldn't help but be a bit thrilled to have a coat like this - it was closer to her own sense of fashion than the pink dress was. She undid the buttons quickly and slid it on, before refastening them. If she had had a mirror to gaze into, she would have taken a moment to admire the stark contrast between her pale features and the noir coat.
He buttoned up his own long coat of coarse leather and pulled up its hood. Using his spear like a staff, he walked to the back door and pushed it open. The telltale shimmering within the doorframe indicated that this was indeed a portal. Gilbert looked back to Andromeda and sighed, then stepped through. He emerged to a bleak and heavily overcast setting. It was a white, sandy beach, but a frigid wind blew in from the water that threatened to shove the temperature down even more. Up the beach a little ways there were a series of prefabricated buildings set up as temporary shelters. Unfortunately, the fencing around them had gone down; from the looks of it a while ago. The beach itself was overlooked by what used to be a bustling city behind an inviting park, but now appeared abandoned. A lifeguard tower built to resemble a squat lighthouse was the only other structure on the beach, aside from the hastily assembled shelters. Though if one looked, one might see a long, long line of slowly moving humanoid figures advancing upon their position through the trees. "This is a timeline that Alicia Gonzalez, James Grady and Sophia Harris all shared. Faith too, but she didn't know them. We are on Lighthouse Beach in Evanston, Illinois. This body of water is Lake Michigan, and you..." Gilbert sighed again, "...you are here because you need to shed a dark inhibition. There is no other way to do it. You are going to have to trust me, and be prepared to make a hard choice to stay alive."
She took a moment to take in her surroundings. She had heard a bit about the timeline a majority of the Paradoxes had come from - infested with zombies. It reminded her as something from a comic book - yet she knew how easily her own world could have turned out like this. Did every timeline have its potential for an apocalyptic event? And how many of them were averted? Andromeda was tempted to ask the questions, yet Gilbert's unease and tone of voice advised her not to. She sensed there was some grave reason as to why they were in Zombieland. "...Okay, I trust you," Andromeda said, not lying. After the various training sessions and experiences she had had with the other trainers, she truly had developed a trust - at least for the Emendators and Elder Paradox. Yet it didn't mean that she wasn't riddled with nervousness. What dark inhibition could an ancient warrior be referring to? She doubted it was anything good...
"Come with me." Gilbert said quietly. He moved quickly and quietly, down the beach to the rundown prefab shelters. Just on the outside of a section of downed chainlink fence, he addressed Andromeda at a whisper. "This timeline and others like it produced an Undead Uprising that spanned the entire globe. There was no stopping it. It expressed from within the people themselves after their natural death - they came back as horrible mockeries of human life that existed purely to kill and eat. That movement in the trees, beyond the beach there? That is a massive horde - an arm of the Undead that used to be the population of Chicago. They came north following the sounds of a thunderstorm a few days ago."
His look became serious even more serious. "There are survivors in these shelters. They are sick. Starving. They will not last for very long, but even less so when that horde finds them. This timeline's history had dictated that they die. All accounts, no matter what. They are most likely dead within the half hour. Here is your question: Do they starve to death? Does the fluid in their lungs eventually choke them away? Will they die a horrifying, tearing death at the claws of rotting and stinking corpses?" He stared at her hard, but his voice softened, "Or do we do a terrible thing and show them mercy?" Gilbert looked to Andromeda's spear, then back into her eyes.
Andromeda's knee jerk reaction was to come up with a solution that didn't involve loss of life. If all timeline accounts dictated that they died, why not use a portal to send them somewhere else? Put them on a habitable planet that is devoid of life, tell them to never explain where they came from, check to make sure that the timeline doesn't implode...Or even just give them a reprieve in Ville au Camp. "If they're supposed to die, why not take them to a location where their actions won't have an impact on the course of events?" Andromeda asked. She didn't want to kill them. "There's got to be somewhere in all of time and history where they could go...Like what about a timeline where humanity never took root on Earth? Or maybe another planet capable of sustaining life? If they're inconsequential enough that we can kill them...can't we find someplace to take them to live in peace that would be of no temporal consequence?"
There were so many reasons. So many that could not be adequately explained in the time provided. They could hear the collective sounds of the wall of Undead nearing their position, hungry and otherwise unfeeling, lacking even the baseline curiosity to wonder why they were in the state that they were. "This is their time and place in history. Putting them elsewhere, including the Loop, is dangerous. Not every human who dies can become a Paradox, but they will all die. Everyone who is born is fated to die. They have accomplished the task of their lives, influenced who they needed to, did what their purpose was to do." Gilbert nodded his head knowingly.
He knew how she felt. Despite the blood and carnage of his earliest conscious memory, there were times when he wanted to fall to his knees and scream at the utter and complete unfairness of it all. But the goal was clear on this day. "Now let me tell you what is going to happen next: The few of these people who have the ability to stand will come out, drawn by the sounds of those dead people over there." He pointed at the steadily nearing horde. "They will see us. They will attack, certain we mean them harm. They will not ask questions nor accept our help. If we are killed or driven off, they will attempt to reinforce the downed fencing here before the horde takes them, and they will fail. Even if the fences were whole, they will fail. These people will be ripped to shreds, and there is nothing to be done about it except to give them a clean passing." Gilbert stood, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his coat and hefting his spear. "Here we are in the middle. Act or perish."
Her breath caught in her throat. Every trick that came to her mind as to a way to help these people - Gilbert effortlessly countered them. She supposed she shouldn't have expected anything different - she hadn't even lived a small fraction of his lifespan. The situation reminded her of the Kobayashi Maru - mostly due to the difficult choice it prevented. Either way, these people were going to die - Gilbert had been incredibly clear of that. The spear felt incredibly heavy in her hand. They'd never done anything to hurt her - and to think of death as a mercy...Was she capable of doing that? She honestly didn't know. "...I don't know if I can..." Andromeda admitted quietly, biting down on the inside of her cheek. "But....I will try..."
"Yes." It was an acknowledgment of her statement rather than a affirmation. Gilbert moved aside the corroded and downed portion of chainlink fence before him and beckoned for Andromeda to follow. The sounds of the dead behind them were much clearer now, the rising volume serving as the sands of an apocalyptic hourglass. There were few things like it to provide motivation, most especially to those who attempted survival in this world. Already the first few ambled slowly onto the sands of the beach, thankfully farther up.
Gilbert led his Paradox student to the nearest ruined structure. There was enough of wall and roof for it to be considered a shelter of sorts, so as to keep the worst of weather from off one's back. As they approached along one stretch of wall, a single living man stepped around the corner, partially leaning on the building for support. To say that he was living was a perilous statement; he was on the cusp of collapse. In his hand was a large bore revolver, which he raised with some effort at the two timeline hopping interlopers. As he opened his mouth to call for help, Gil sprang into action, knocking the man's arm down with the blunt end of his spear. He continued the arc to catch him at the knee, upending the poor soul an taking him flatly upon the ground. The fallen man barely seemed to notice the spearpoint enter his ribcage; by the time it was withdrawn and pierced his skull, life had already left his form. "The next one is on the other side of this building, facing more or less in our direction. You may take him by surprise if you go around the back way, hugging the walls." This was much to ask. Gilbert had to prepare his students mentally as well as physically, however, and this was a hangup that they couldn't afford. "I will be right on the other side, Andromeda. It will not take much. They are almost dead already. Go."
Andromeda was taking deep and quick breaths, in through the mouth and out her nostrils in a near huff like sound. It was already a terrible act to consider in the abstract - yet seeing it in front of her, it was almost too much to bear. She could barely keep a grip on her spear and she wanted to sink to the ground and place her head between her knees. The slight food she had eaten before heading to see Gilbert was threatening to come up. She took another panicked breath, looking at Gilbert as she opened her mouth to utter some excuse - before she changed her mind and hobbled slowly around the back of the building as he had indicated. It helped that she hugged the walls, as her knees were wobbling and her eyes were watery.
"I'm so so sorry..." she mumbled, feeling numb and simultaneously on fire as she used her spear on the unfortunate soul. He was a man in his early thirties, with though stress, illness, and starvation he might have passed for fifty. He had a revolver in his hand, but was unable to pull the trigger before the attack hit. Andromeda's spear entered his body and he fell, to his knees at first. A line of drool fell from his mouth, tinged in red, and as he slumped forward one could hear the weakest of cries issue from him; the last ounce of survival instinct he had left.
Gilbert came from around the corner in front of Andromeda. He looked at the man on the ground in between them and he saw the expression that his Paradox student had. This was a line crossed for her. It would require a significant amount of discussion and workthrough later on. Understanding could be heard from the elder Emendator as he spoke, "You have taken a human life. It is never something to celebrate. But understand, there is a difference between killing - and being a killer. If you wish it, we may leave this place now. The horde of Undead will be along in a few minutes and finish the job for us anyway. What do you think we should do?" This was an uncertain moment for the young Paradox. Gilbert stood braced for many eventualities, his mind already working on what was to happen next.
Andromeda didn't know what she thought. She wished that Gilbert had gone and stood in front of the corpse, to block it from her view, yet the image was burned into her mind anyways. She took another shuddery and panicked breath, leaning against the wall behind her for support. She hadn't even had the heart to pull the spear out of him. It all just felt cruel and senseless and meaningless. "I think....I-I-....um...." Andromeda stammered, feeling light headed as she collapsed to the ground on her knees and her back arched almost catlike as she proceeded to vomit.
That was one of the possible eventualities that Gilbert had predicted. It ranged from an odd, psychopathic sense of delight to being outright attacked, but emptying one's stomach was right up there. One of the more common ones, actually. A common, natural response to something that was simultaneously against human nature yet enmeshed in human history. "Take a minute. Absorb what just happened. Do not take too long though, Andromeda. There is so much that I have to tutor you in that I cannot do if we are consumed by that army of corpses outside of the ruined fence. Gather yourself, and make a decision."
"If....If there's....oh god...." Andromeda muttered, dry heaving this time. She coughed, trying her best to wipe her mouth so that way she didn't look entirely disgusting as she sat back on her heels. She didn't think she'd be quite up to stand and talk about this. It had been hard enough a few seconds ago to just stand and think about this. "If there's only a few minutes...I don't think I could do it, get them all..." she managed to say, her voice sounding hoarse. Her body's natural response had also resulted in watery eyes.
"It is okay, Andromeda. Everything is fine. It is a good decision. A considered decision. It shows that you understand your own limits right now. Limits I intend to push during our time together. You will emerge from this a stronger, wiser person for it. And you are correct, time is a factor - we need to move. If you are unable to run, I will carry you." His voice remained calm and understanding, but there was a sense of urgency to his words. "It will be alright. We should go." Gilbert offered his hand down to Andromeda, nodding slowly.
Truthfully, she didn't know if she could run at the moment. And while she had just vomited in front of one of the oldest beings alive, she still had a slight sense of pride left in her. She would try to run, before asking for Gilbert to carry her back to wherever the portal had been stashed. She understood he was attempting to keep her calm with those words and she knew she didn't appreciate it then, but she would later. "I'll see if I can run," she mumbled, wiping off her hand on the coat just in case - she didn't want to get vomit on Gilbert's hand - as she rose to her feet, her knees still trembling and shaking.
Gilbert took a step back, his hand still available to Andromeda and supportive. He merely wished to give her room. Crowding did hazardous things for a person already feeling physically ill, in his experience. "Follow me closely behind, if you can. If you stumble or if you cannot keep up, shout for me. We will start at a jog." Gilbert walked them back to the aperture in the fence. The living dead had already found their way onto the beach in numbers, which was problematic for Gilbert. "Here," said the Emendator, handing over his spear to Andromeda to hold along her own. "Please take this, if you would." He reached into his rawhide greatcoat and pulled out two 45 caliber hand cannons, and stepped boldly onto the open beach. "Lifeguard tower. That is where our portal is located. Stay close and when we get there, run ahead of me. Do you understand?" A fire burned in Gilbert's eyes. He seemed to dip back into the kind of man that he used to be, thousands of years ago. Gone was the laid-back Emendator of Ville au Camp, replaced with the last traces of a wizened and powerful Gilgamesh set against an enemy.
The sounds of gunfire reported across the sands and trees of what used to be a lakefront park in Evanston, Illinois. The noise kept the foul creatures at bay, even as it drew the greater attention of the main horde. They were coming anyway. It changed nothing. The moment that the two of them crossed the threshold of the lifeguard tower, they ceased to be in the overcast, chill air of the northern United States in the 21st century, instead finding themselves in a very familiar workshop located in an old Mill in rural Louisiana, some many decades earlier. Within the safety of the Time Loop, Gilbert motioned to the spear Andromeda used earlier. "You used that tool to take your first human life. If you wish to keep it you may; it is a good weapon and may also serve nicely as a focal point for your meditations on the subjects of combat and death. Otherwise I will destroy it or put it back into the armory, at your discretion."
She took deep yet somehow shallow breaths as soon as they made it back to Ville au Camp, having surprised herself that she had managed to run largely without stumbling. She had anticipated that after a few steps, she would have fallen to the ground as easily as the Titanic quaked beneath the power of ice. "...C-could you destroy it?" Andromeda requested quietly. Despite having spent her previous life as a collector of sorts, this was one thing she didn't want to collect. She was having trouble with the deed she had just committed and although it wasn't the case, it felt too much like a trophy that a serial killer might keep. "U-unless you n-need it or something, of course..."
"No. We have several more. I will disarticulate and burn the shaft, then reforge the blade into something clean and new. We are done for the day, Andromeda." He accepted the weapon from her, reassuring, "You did very well."
