Character Beach House

"Farewell, sir." Lien bode him goodbye, then looked back at Hope.

"That man felt strange... worse than Akura..."

"I know, honey. Everything will be okay, trust me." Trying to console her, Lien held her hand near the girl's shoulder.

"Okay..." She twisted a small, pointed seashell in her hands that she found before Marc arrived.

"Did you find a shell?"

Hope nodded. "It looks kind of pretty."

"Sorry," said Micah, "I probably wasn't thinking straight and said something stupid - must still be knocked up from the storm. I mean, the idea of other dimensions is crazy, but... well, I just feel like being open-minded today. Really, really open-minded. 'Cause, well, the storm started in the space of about a minute, and there's no way that's natural." He looked up at the sky. "It's just one of those days, you know?"

He paused for a second. "Wish my clothes would dry out faster," he muttered.

Caen stretches, tossing down his staff and pulling himself up. "Well, as grand as conversation is among mortal pleasures, I need water, even if alcohol would be preferable."

He walks into the kitchen. Something is seriously off here; the woman and man seem decent, but there's an odd intent here; it's not precisely a killing intent, but it's close to that, twisted off and around the mark. He jabs a hand at the space where it seems to emanate from, and his plam feels just the slightest tinge cooler.

Now that's odd. And what that is isn't quite a ghost, so it must be an... angel? Demon? I see why I'm here, God. Thank you.

He turned to Rachel. "You seem... open-minded. Do you feel as though there's something odd around here... bit of a feeling hanging around in the air?"

It took him a few minutes - and far too much sand in his shoes - but Marc reached the house. Before climbing the stairs to the veranda, he sat and emptied his shoes. As well as he could, he just couldn't stand the grainy feel between his toes. Brushing off sand from his trousers and hoping not too much was in his hair, he ascended.

The stairs were still wet from a previous climber, so Marc guessed someone was home. The door was open, but Marc was courteous. He knocked twice on the door frame.

"Hello. Anybody home?"

Ignore.

edited 16th Mar '11 5:06:41 PM by KSPAM

To Micah, Rachel said, "excuse me a moment." She then took Caen aside and whispered, "listen very, very carefully. You may have noticed my friend Asau, she of the purple hair and skimpy swimsuit, appears to be speaking to thin air. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Asau is capable of seeing things most people choose not to see. Right now, she is speaking to some form of self-declared Shinigami. Now, I believe her. She has saved my life from the servants of a Lovecraftian horror on far too many occasions for me to not believe her. But I don't want anything to do with that kind of thing. I just want to sit down, drink tea, and relax. If you have any questions about creepy death angels, bloodthirsty mages, or other freaks from beyond the realm of the ordinary, talk to her, and for God's sake, leave me out of it. Are. We. Clear?"

Needing an excuse to get away from Caen, and any other impending madness, Rachel then excused herself, looking for someone with whom to make small talk. Thank God for small talk. Interesting times awaited, Rachel knew it, and she was desperately hoping to avoid them.

edited 16th Mar '11 5:16:24 PM by KillerClowns

Caen takes a step back, lifting his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "Merely a question; thank you, at least, for the guidance." He pured himself a glass of water and turned so that he obscured it from view for a moment. yanking off the pendant around his neck, a simple bronzed tube, he quickly unscrewed it, revealing a thin blade, notched with use and none too sharp.

Here goes nothing. He yanked it across the back of his hand, letting a few drops fall into the glass and a few more onto his finger. Putting a thumb over his eye, he blinked, quickly wiping the cut and gulping down his water. The blood itself was just a catalyst and focus for this sort of... intuition.

The air did seem to be slightly foggier in a certain part of the room when he looked at it with the marked eye, and he nodded. It was some sort of angel flying about. The whole ceremony had taken only a few seconds, and he smiled, listening carefully to Asau as he filled the glass again. It would take a hell of a lot more blood and material to actually see or hear the spirit, and it wasn't vital at the moment.

edited 16th Mar '11 4:45:50 PM by Morgulion

(OOC: Luthen: I had originally pictured this part as an open deck or porch, as Micah needs to dry off; there's no door between there and the beach. Marc could knock on the railing instead of the door.)

Micah heard a voice and turned to see someone standing on the steps to the deck. More people? he thought. "Sort of," he said, waving. "Everyone here seems to be drawn here for some reason, and I didn't quite catch who the owner was."

(OOC: Sorry, I spent too much time editing my last post, so I might as well move it up.)

Kalafina worried for Xavier. She may be distant, but she wasn't without a heart. And Xavier's heart was not faring well at all.

She supposed that had been her fault. What Xavier had seen, she too had seen, many times, so she had neglected the little nagging "you'll regret this later" voice that had spoken so insistently when Xavier expressed his desire for one last look. She thought it would serve as a learning experience, make him stronger like it did her. She had to start remembering she wasn't at all like him.

He wanted to see, and by god she'd let him. Now look at the right fine mess he was in. Any sense of anchoring had disappeared, the firmness had left his state of being. He went through the days just doing the motions, hoping to stave off his nightmares a few minutes longer.

The worlds he must create...

She excused herself, although it seemed the congregation had moved to the kitchen. She found Xavier on the shore, barefoot, staring at the clouds. She too slipped of her shoes, letting the hiking boots sink a few inches into the wet sand.

"I can't see it. Why can't I see it?"

"Because it isn't here yet. This world still has many years Xavier. Don't worry yourself over it."

"You say that, yet..."

The waves lapped across the shore, bathing their feet in cold saltwater. The only sounds were those of the sea and lonely wind.

"You're so sure. You've seen it too, seen it a thousand times, yet you remain so confident. Absolutely unshaken, so sure that there's a point to today, that there's a reason why you exist."

She remained silent.

"How do you do it? How can you do it? Retain any sense of self or purpose when you know existence can begin and end just like that? It's incredibly easy to create an existence, all it takes is a dream. Our dreams become reality, our pointless little flights of fancy taking on life. So what's the point? What's the point of existence when existence itself means so little?"

Kalafina did something unexpected just then. She took his hand in hers, and grasped it firmly.

"You are here. I accept your existence. And by acceptance alone, your existence is given meaning You can lean on me, Xavier. Lean on me until you can remember how to accept yourself."

Kalafina heard his crying, but didn't look. She didn't want to make him stop. Tears cleansed, they wash away the grime we collect day by day until we can see clearly again. Xavier was in desperate need of that. So she let him cry.

(OOC: Ach, I keep feeling like something's escaping me here. I could word this much better.)

edited 16th Mar '11 8:12:31 PM by KSPAM

((OOC: Sorry, I was a bit confused about who was in the kitchen and who wasn't. Let's go with your suggestion.))

Marc got a reply from a very sodden man, who was on the deck. It seemed his wandering attention had, well, wandered again because Marc hadn't seen the man or the woman he was talking to. The man's response was both disappointing and unnerving. He really should look for the owner, but if this place was drawing people... Marc knew far too many stories of malicious spirits luring in their prey. If he was smart, he should turn around and head north, like that lady had suggested. Unless she was the spirit?

"Oh, I was just hoping for directions to the nearest town. I'm a little lost."

Micah shrugged. "Same here. I got caught in a storm and had to swim here. Never got around to asking where here is, or where any towns are. I'm Micah, by the way."

Justin felt weird-out. Lovecraftian priest? Mysterious person washed up on the shore? Person with a staff? Even though he knew about Landras...what was going on in the kitchen was difficult to comprehend.

"Uh...excuse me for a moment." Justin opened the door and exited the kitchen.

"What is going on?" he thought, "And who is the homeowner? Did she really send the invitation?"

"Humans are interesting," Landras mused.

OOC: So, is anybody going to use the house owner? She could enter the room any second now.

(OOC: She's already here. Quon, one of QQQQQ's characters, a 40-something artist woman who is presently lurking in the shadows while QQQQQ studies.)

edited 16th Mar '11 5:41:57 PM by KillerClowns

OOC: Sorry for double post, but I just realized that the picture in the first post is a kitchen. I thought it was another room, so I made another description for a kitchen. Hmm...

I know. QQQQQ said that we could use her while she's away studying.

Through the door was...another kitchen. It fit the modern feel of the house. There were white counters, and tinted blue windows that gave a good few of the beach yards behind the house. There was a calm atmosphere to it.

"What the..."

edited 16th Mar '11 5:35:53 PM by chihuahua0

Asau continued her assault on Landras' modesty and personal space. "So tell me, angel, what brings you to the realm of the living? A little whim, curiosity? Or perhaps you have some business here. If you're here for pleasure, well, I assure you, I know quite a bit about such things..." Asau leaned in very close, her chest brushing up against Landras... and with a single, deft movement, she snatched Landras' Death Note. She then hopped away with a wicked smirk, and said, "now, my angelic friend. Tell me, what is this delightful little toy you've been playing with?" She casually leafed through it. It was a pity she didn't have anywhere to put it that wouldn't be uncomfortable.

(OOC: Would anyone mind giving me some feedback on my last post? I'm not quite sure I managed to articulate my ideas all that well and I'd like your opinion.)

"Marcato. A lady on the beach said we were in France, and that the nearest town was north."

"Well, I know we're in France, but I don't where specifically, beyond the Riviera." Micah frowned. "At least, I hope we're in France, or else my day will get weirder than it already is."

Landras was slightly ticked off, but impressed by the moxy that the woman had. She was talking to her-a goddess of death-like she was just another human. She reached through her like a ghost and grabbed her Death Note. Plus, she was definitely a flirt, considering her suggestive movements.

"I'll have that back, thank you." Landras then caused the Death Note to slip out of her hands, and took it back, hiding it on her person.

"Why I came down here is one of the last things Justice would want me telling to anyone," Landras explained, "But as long as you don't tell anyone...you know about Kira, correct?"

This question would most likely indicate whatever they were still on Justin's own world...

...or somewhere else.

edited 16th Mar '11 6:05:37 PM by chihuahua0

Asau laughed, and said, "uh, you're gonna have to help me here. Kira's a really common name in the Mauros Republic. Kira Aloul is their diplomat to the Uelane Empire... or there's Kira Solan, a businessman who controls a quarter of the Mauros textile industry... there's actually two famous people named Kira Delam. One's a high-ranking Mauros officer, another is a pirate, real bloodthirsty bastard. Never get them mixed up. Or are you thinking of someone completely different? I've never been able to keep track of all the Mauros big-wigs. They change so fast."

edited 16th Mar '11 6:12:30 PM by KillerClowns

The answer to Landras was no.

"I knew something was off when we cross the state line from Missouri to Kansas," Landras thought.

"Excuse me for a moment," Landras took out another carton of yogurt, used one of her fingernails to slice the top wrapper open, and started to drink it.

"Sorry, but I have a fascination with apple yogurt. You see, we Shinigami perfer apples, do to its connection to blood, but when one of us travels down from the Shinigami Realm, they tend to...latch on a certain food."

Asau looked at the yogurt with disgust. The only thing worse than eggs. Why did the people of this world consume such vile things? Asau considered interrogating Landras further. But, no, it seemed better to see how she interacted with others instead. So said, "we'll continue this conversation... another time." With that, Asau left, exitting by the back door to sit, cross-legged, on the beach. She closed her eyes, and allowed the sounds of the sea to surround her.

Landras was clearly a creature of great power, but also one that had no intention of giving her any straight answers. She would have to find another way. Asau doubted Landras took her seriously. Asau would have it no other way. Sul'ah was the goddess of lust, or so it was claimed, but they did not call her the Lady of Blades for nothing. Those Uelane who had turned to the God-Eater feared and desired the servants of Sul'ah in equal measure, and with good reason. The one named Justice... ah, he was mortal. Sixteen years old — among the Uelane, he would be considered a man, but Asau knew that people in this world grew up more slowly. He was a boy in a man's body, no doubt. She preferred women, but she doubted she would need to sleep with Justice. Just string him along for a while.

She heard Rachel's footsteps, and a few moments later, heard Rachel say, "Asau? You OK?"

"Yes. Just... weighing my options. Shouldn't you be boring somebody with the finer points of actuarial science right now?"

Rachel chuckled, and said, "I'd love to. But right now, I'm busy trying to avoid the very things you seem to be trying to study."

Asau shrugged. "As ever."

That was the funny thing about Asau, Rachel thought. She seemed so childish, so spontaneous, so immature... but there was more to her than that. Her forthright nature was not an act, but it wasn't quite all there was to her either. She clearly enjoyed her flirtations, and delighted at the stares people gave her when they saw her — confident in the knowledge she could kill anyone that tried to have her without her permission. Oh yes, she was a dangerous woman, and that was part of the appeal she had on men... and more than a few women.

Rachel said, "got some plan with that Shinigami?"

"Yes." Seeing Rachel's expression, she added, "not like that, though if she is interested, seduction is as good a method as any for getting what I seek. No... there's something about that notebook. You see the way she guards it? She's confident, perhaps even over-confident. The false confidence that comes from people being too scared of you to oppose you. She is as Vautul was." The implications were clear; Vautul had been the supreme god of the Mauros pantheon, equivalent to Zeus or Odin, until one of his priests had insulted the Eyes and Teeth. That was when it had earned the sobriquet of "God-Eater," defiling the temples of Vautul with unholy symbols of blood, driving his priests to despair and suicide, and causing every statue and image of Vautul to wither and die as though stricken by some terrible wasting plague. Asau continued, "this 'Shinigami' is here for amusement, clearly, and I doubt she sees us of flesh and blood as equals. Still, I don't think she desires to do anything more than watch... for now."

Rachel said, "that gaudily dressed monk, Caen, was asking about her. Maybe you should talk to him."

Asau stood, and nodded. She returned to the house, and strode purposefully towards Caen. "Me and you," she said, tersely, "have questions. Questions relating to a rather curious visitor. Shall we find answers together, or would you rather we both bumble about in the darkness?"

He carefully slid his hand into his pocket, obscuring the cut before finishing his glass of water, letting Asau wait before he looked at her.

I can play myself as a fool, some old guy from a different time who ain't too fast to catch on, or I can tell her the truth. Well, God, I made a stupid choice that seemed smart at the time. Guess I'm more of a fool than the people think.

"Oh, you mean the angel. Well, madam, I think you might have more answers for me than I for you. I'm no grand adept of the supernatural, I can only feel the presence. You must be rather skilled to speak with spirits that easily. Care to tell me what that thing is?"

I'm sort of wondering whether I ought to start drawing warding symbols in my own blood and salt, or burning clippings of hair and flesh as offerings for guidance. Hey, care to contribute?

edited 16th Mar '11 9:22:01 PM by Morgulion

Asau considered Caen. He seemed strong enough to survive the Rite of the All-Seeing, but that would be no help here — it would take thirty days, not counting preparation. Perhaps there was a simpler, if more temporary way, to open his eyes?

In answer to his question, Asau said, "from what I can tell, it is death. Cold, patient, and contemptuous. It carries an item, one which I sense has great power, and I would love to investigate it further. It calls itself a 'Shinigami', but the name means nothing to me. Do you know anything of such creatures?"

Rachel, for her part, decided to find somebody normal. Or somebody close to normal, anyways. Asau always found adventure, didn't she?

Rachel spotted a woman and a girl, the latter of whom was playing with a shell. They seemed sane. She gave them a polite nod and said, "hello, there. I don't think we've met. What brings you two here today?"

edited 16th Mar '11 9:36:21 PM by KillerClowns

"Not much. I can feel an odd... intent, you might call it, but hell if I know what's in its mind. Seems more angelic though, but not one of those that serve as guides. Maybe a death angel, but I've had little experience with any of them."

He rummages through the fridge, settling on a piece of coarse bread. "Either way, it's best if I had the materials to see it, but I'm not entirely willing to dedicate that much to a transient problem offhand."