"He is," Matt said. "He's always been more of a visual person than anything. In fact, that butterfly figurine he has? The portfolio he had to make for admission into an advanced art course called for sculpture. I remember him staying up until the wee hours of the morning to make her at our kitchen table."
Raphael inched away, back with Samira.
The boy seemed innocent enough, but something was up. He wasn't sensing anything out of the ordinary from Amu. No magical or demonic influence, just... nothing.
"What's wrong?" he muttered.
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."
Purely on instinct, Jonathan patted down his pockets, even though there was no way he was carrying a knife or something like that. "No, sorry," he said, shaking his head and slightly embarrassed. "I don't have an- waaaiiittt..."
He went back to the previous room and looked it over. Where w- There it was. Jonathan picked up some of the glass shards from the display case Eli had shattered and walked back to the fountain, careful not to cut himself on any of them. The wound wouldn't stay there long, but there was no need to get it in the first place.
"Knock yourself out," said Jonathan, laying the bits and pieces next to Zachariah. What the hell're you trying to do, anyway? "Although if those don't work, I'm sure we could find something else." Giving a sniff, he realized the fountain's smell had changed to that of motor oil.
The future of warfare in UC.
Nara grimaced. "He was a public figure of sorts...though after awhile the Genom Special Assistants to the Chairman all start to blend together, I admit. Charming, intelligent, and without remorse basically describes all of them through the years. We wanted to capture him, but somewhere along the way we weren't warned about the fact his personal assistant wasn't human. There is little an assassin boomer can accomplish against a K-suited trooper, but it did buy him the time to take a hostage. You can't talk down a sociopath, so after that I had to kill him to make sure he didn't kill the hostage."
Nous restons ici.
Samira whispered, "Amu... I don't know how it happens, but by my time, he's... well, he's actually a lot like the people he's trying to overthrow. Five hundred years of cruelty." She glanced at him nervously and confessed, "I always imagined he was... born that way, and all those stories of him being a heroic leader were lies. But now... I don't know..." she considered her thoughts. "I was going to warn you at first, but now I'm wondering if I can change my world's history here, or if it's locked. I'm not sure if I want to try, though. Reshaping time like that..." she shook her head.
"But," Samira said, "I cannot judge a man — or a boy, though I'm not sure which he is — for crimes not yet committed." She sighed. "I'm not sure what I really want to say, right now. I don't know who I'm looking at when I see the young, scared king who will one day become the overseer of such brutality and slaughter as the world has never seen."
Zacharias walked over the the fountain. He said, "this will probably end badly. Still, what do I have to lose? Aside from, perhaps, my sanity? But still, this may prove enlightening. Or disastrous. God, I truly am a descendant of Qaisar, aren't I?" And with that, he brought the knife to his thumb, just about to nick it to spill a few drops of his own blood into the water.
[[spoiler:I figured I'd give the other characters a chance to stop him or comment as they choose."
Eli paid no attention to whatever was going on behind him, too enraptured with a drawing he was making on a wall.
Matt, on the other hand, focused on Zacharias and the fountain, not sure what would happen. "Oi, you trying to summon the devil over there?"
"And I'm going to assume that this 'God-Eater' has something to do with this evolution?"
Who knows, Samira. Time is a touchy thing to meddle with. For all they know, their efforts and acts of kindness could all be worth naught.
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."
Drummer Boy
"Hold it."
Friedrich pulls a wooden box out of a coat pocket and holds it out. "Wouldn't you rather use a nice, somewhat safer, sterilized scalpel for whatever the ever loving fuck it is you're about to try to pull?"
Wilhelm watches nervously, then turns back to Matthias. "Sorry about that ramble. I... ramble an awful lot. My sister says that I— oh, there we go again." He sighs. "ANYWAY! I can draw every muscle and organ in the human body. That's about it."
Bianca doesn't know what to say to Amu. His situation sounds hopeless. She bites her lip and tries not to look too troubled. The last battle's curtains will open on stage!
Samira looked forlornly at the ground. "Yes. And I think I can see how it happened. Look at him. How much he cares for his people." She looked over at Amu. "I can see him... selling his soul for the chance to free them, not realizing just what he is giving up." She shook her head. "The Eyes and Teeth — he calls it the God-Eater, like most Uelane do — is... well, remember how I said magic is hungry? It... where I come from, it really is magic. It's not just a magical being, or a giver of magic. It. Is. Magic." She felt this needed repeating. "And he's going to become its pawn."
Amu studied Bianca. He said, "you seem kinda off. I ramble too much?" He continued to pick at his apple, seemingly unwilling to waste even the core most would toss away. "Sorry, awful greedy of me, make you listen to my sob story. I mean, it ain't all bad. But I get to tell people what's goin' good every day. It's what they wanna hear, y'know? So I ain't as eager to tell you 'bout, say, that slaver caravan we managed to intercept! Xau, full of food. And I got a cushion! Too soft to be comfortable, mind, but it's kinda nice knowin' I got the option." He smiled, then said, "tell ya what. You got anything you want to say, and nobody to say it to, whaddya say you get it out now? Least I can do for your generosity, miss."
Zacharias took the scalpel, and with an amused smile, said, "you know, I was half hoping you'd try and stop me." His voice was teasing as he said, "some friends you are." And then he gently dropped a single drop of blood into the fountain.
It glowed briefly, and then Zacharias fell to his knees, clutching his head. And then, just as suddenly he stood again, with a look of childish fascination and confusion as he gently swayed to a waltz only he could hear.
"Where ever have I found myself?" he said, his voice now sing-song and slightly childish, subtly following the same three-step rhythm of his body. Then he looked around the room. "Hmm. Europe? That could be a problem! Kokabiel, you damned old thing! A little help, before I get burned as an infidel by over-eager Christians!"
<...Qaisar.> Kokabiel's voice was filled with resigned annoyance. Out of politeness, all within the room could now hear its telepathic words. <Truly, the delights of this realm never cease. We're in a dream realm, by the way. Of sorts. And I don't think anyone here has any particular desire to burn, beat, or stab you. Yet.>
He looked around. "Who are all these..." he stopped, blinked, and shook his head. "Never mind. Thank you, Kokabiel. He gave me your names." He pointed at Eli and added, "and he advised me to avoid you, which I suspect means we shall soon become very good friends." He studied his own hands and clothes. "And what's this?"
<You're possessing your descendant's body, Qaisar.>
"Oh. Erm. Sorry about that, unknown distant descendant, though it's nice to know you exist. If you can hear me." He looked around. "Well, I can hardly change that now." He blinked. "Oh, my, a very pleasant fellow, judging from his memories — again, sorry, dear descendant, especially if I inadvertently locked you in a howling abyss beyond the veil of reality."
<He's actually just in a dreamless sleep. He'll have the memories you make though, and the unenviable task of repairing the damage you cause.>
This will continue... approximately until I get bored or Qaisar annoys someone too much. Note that Qaisar's use of "he" rather than "it" for Kokabiel is intentional and in-character. EDIT: And assume Kokabiel is "audible" to the entire room unless explicitly stated otherwise.
edited 16th Apr '12 6:43:44 PM by KillerClowns
Matt's jaw dropped. "What the fuck..." he muttered.
Eli's head jerked in Matt's direction "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY-" his head jerked back to Qaisarias ooh that's a nice name "Nice to meet you, Qaisar." He waved quickly, holding up his magic marker in his free hand. "And this is my butterfly. Her name's Lydia."
She hopped off of Eli's shoulder and flew over in an unstable manner similar to an actual butterfly, then stopped and levitated in midair about a meter from Qaisar's face. She tilted her head cutely, placing her hand under her chin in thought as she examined him with blank eyes.
Gonna wait on Snowfox this half of the city.
edited 16th Apr '12 6:43:15 PM by CrystalGlacia
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."
"...Well, this is new," said Jonathan. He squinted at Zacharias — or Qaisar, now. "Can you, like, feel him at all? Zacharias, I mean. Probably not, I'm guessing."
Qaisar seemed slightly bonkers. What was the word Zacharias had used? Eccentric? That was it, and it fit quite well. And was this before or after he pulled that deal thing with the binding? Probably after, if he knew Kokabiel.
Hell, why not ask him? "So, bound any evil gods of darkness lately?"
Qaisar smiled at Lydia and Eli and said, "nice to meet you and your butterfly. I can already tell she is a very nice butterfly, so if she likes you, I think I also like you." Then he turned to Jonathon and said, "I'm afraid my dear descendant's slumber is quite deep. And... I wouldn't say I bound a god of 'darkness', though the evil fits. More bluish than dark really. But It wasn't very nice. Still, the binding was a simple matter once you realize that five and one can become the same thing with the proper application of advanced mathematical theory..."
<This makes no more sense to me than it does to any of you, for the record.>
"You have no sense of fun, Kokabiel," Qaisar said with surprising grimness. But he cheered quickly. "Well, at least you don't have a negative sense of fun like your dear brothers."
<Please, never compliment me again. Every word I exchange with you demeans me.>
Qaisar shrugged, and said, "and aside from the dark god binding, I got to see another world! Two, even!"
<One of those lands — now known as North America — is not another world. You may notice it has the same sun as you are already familiar with.>
"Close enough. In short, my life has been most fulfilling lately." He smiled broadly at the assembled group, before half-walking, half-dancing over to and slumping into Amu's throne. "Not very comfortable. Needs more cushion. Although speaking of cushion, it seems my dear descendant could afford to feed himself more."
edited 16th Apr '12 7:07:48 PM by KillerClowns
The author of the freaking Necronomicon was possessing Zacharias.
In one way... this was even worse than just flat-out summoning the devil. The devil could be reasoned with, and was far more coherent. Qaisar was... effectively Eli that one time when someone spiked his fruit juice with energy drink and possibly vodka. The appletini from hell. Matt shuddered.
Eli came over to meet Qaisar, with Lydia resting in her creator's hair. Staying a few meters away from the throne itself, he drew in midair with his magic Copic marker and white silken cushioning seemed to spring out of the heavy throne's metallic surface.
"My magic brush warps reality." Eli ginned.
Matt watched Qaisar carefully to see what he'd do.
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."
Qaisar's eyes lit up, his childish glee increasing even further. "Fascinating," he said, leaping out of the chair to watch. "Positively fascinating! I would ask to borrow it myself, but I fear the last time I ventured into the visual arts, my reception was less than warm."
<If only because he was born approximately a thousand years too early for the concept of modern art.>
Qaisar continued obliviously, "nevertheless, reality is an oh-so-very warpable thing. Why, a big enough rock warps reality, I say!"
<Yes. He did just reference the theory of gravity — as described by relativity — several centuries early. He is a very special breed of idiot.>
Again, Qaisar ignored Kokabiel, and said, "but not so finely or as delicately as that fascinating magical device! Why, the wonderful things you could do with such a thing! It's so strange to see magic create! It's always 'corrupt eat kill destroy stab'. Except Kokabiel, who mostly just whines."
Kokabiel managed the impressive feat of telepathically transmitting silence, which was subtly different from simply not transmitting anything.
Laugh and grow dank!
Angua's head instinctually snapped around to the source of the noise. It seemed familiar.
What was that? It was her first conscious thought since- Angua shook her head. The last thing she remembered was the hospital's tiled floor and walls. Other things were coming back too. That mysterious bird creature, Kokabiel.
She looked around. Where am I?
As far as she could tell, she was in an open space. Although it could have been a large room for all she could see of her surroundings. Broken asphalt lay underfoot, and in the distance- only fog. More of that dense, grey haze. She could hardly tell one direction from another.
She refocused her attention back to the direction from which she heard the noise, then started walking forward, combing the mist with her eyes. It wasn't long before a wraithlike figure resolved into comprehensible vision. It looked to be wearing a robe of some sort.
Angua froze in her tracks. Could it be a ghost?
edited 16th Apr '12 9:57:38 PM by Gault
yey
Drummer Boy
Wilhelm goes to the fountain. "Uncle, give me the scalpel."
"What? Fuck no." Friedrich wraps it in a rag and puts it back in the case. "What do you need to transform into some random ancestor for?"
"I dunno, I just want to see what's going to happen."
Friedrich raises his eyebrows.
"Uhm... for science?"
"This is a dream. There is no science."
Wilhelm rolls his eyes and begins playing a queer piece that he learned from one of his mother's old books, titled "Clockwork Fairy." It always struck him as to dark and heavy for its title, like the fairy rusted over and came back from the dead to kill everyone.
Friedrich keeps one eye on Qaisar. This will not end well.
"It's all right. You don't ramble nearly as much as a few of my friends do, and I rather like it."
Bianca looks away.
"I'm just sorry that I don't know how to help you or your sister. But I thought about this for a little while, and I think I might as well just say it. Going back to what you said earlier, sending that man to help your sister wasn't selfish. Having to keep all your thoughts inside you will destroy you someday. And you won't be doing much good for your people a broken man."
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!
Jonathan was intrigued. "What kind of magical device?" If only I could use it against Shaurei... But I'd never be able to build it, or even remember its schematics or whatever. "What did it do?"
Jonathan's thoughts suddenly turned to possible consequences. If it was what he thought it was, it was too easy. Nothing came that easily, especially not something as powerful as that. There's gotta be a catch or something. Is it related to the thing Qaisar bound?
Qaisar laughed at Jonathon's question. First he resettled to slouch more comfortably in the throne, despite still visibly bouncing slightly in his chair to the same unheard waltz. He seemed oblivious to Wilhelm's music. Then he pointed at Eli's magical marker. "I have absolutely no idea," he said, "you'd have to ask this delightful young man! Unless his butterfly talks, but she seems like a very quiet and thoughtful sort of butterfly. Butterflies usually are. Wouldn't you be quiet and thoughtful if you were a butterfly? All that time in the cocoons, I imagine, plenty of time to think!" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, slightly startled and amused to find a goatee there. After fiddling with it for a bit, he said, "if you were a butterfly, then, you'd have to be quiet and thoughtful. Unless all butterflies are mad. Always possible. But if they are, I think it's the good kind of mad."
Amu was quiet for a time. There was something he felt he needed to get out of the way, even though it pained him to speak of the topic. "It ain't what you think, by the way. The Red King... don't have them sorts of interests. Not for men, women, boys, girls... nothing, really." He quietly hoped Bianca didn't ask any further questions, and just assumed he meant the truth wasn't so bad as she thought. Amu wished it was as simple as sex with the Red King. But it wasn't, it never was.
He sighed, unwilling to let those words linger, but uncertain where to go next. Finally, he said, "you're right, though. A king's gotta have a 'clear mind and a strong heart'. Hard, though. We're all mortals in the end, ain't we? 'From sand, unto sand'. We get a lot of hope and trust dropped on us, but don't we all go 'neath the sand in the end? Exceptin' those who get dirt or ocean or something, but you know what I mean." He frowned slightly, and then out of the blue, "oh, for the love of the Xau of the Eastern Winds! Anyone here know where we can get some wine?"
edited 17th Apr '12 6:16:05 AM by KillerClowns
Lydia had been nodding in agreement with what Qaisar had been saying about butterflies until he accused her of being mad. That was met with a blank stare.
Eli approached the throne. "Qaisar, you want to try playing with my marker?"
OH LORD NO "Eli, don't give it to him-" Matt paused in thought. "-be-cause... you're an art god! Yeah." He winged it. "You'd be a pretty irresponsible god if you just handed out the ability to warp reality wily-nilly, wouldn't you?" He chuckled nervously.
Eli watched Matt with a disturbingly blank grin. "But I'm not handing it out wily-nilly. I'm only going to give it to one person." Without turning, he thrusted the marker handle towards Qaisar.
Matt's already thin smile fell into a look of horror.
Poor Matt, trying to be the Only Sane Man and all.
Oh, joy! A subject change.
"My father has some grapevines around here somewhere, I'm sure, but he hasn't started making his own wine... yet."
In fact... when Raphael just started learning about his father's lifelong exploits, he was more surprised that Dad didn't already have a vineyard around Europe somewhere.
edited 17th Apr '12 8:29:04 AM by CrystalGlacia
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."
Dancing All Night
Samara was rather relieved with the subject change. While she certainly had wanted to speak her mind on the matter, it was a subject she nor others liked to dwell on.
"Hmm. . . I personally was never much for wine, or alcohol in general," Sam commented, "Usually gives me dreadful headaches, even if it's only a small amount."
In a room of the museum not yet explored, yet another newcomer to this world "awoke". Though usually fitful or dreamless in sleep, on this night Mai'iq Du'Galle would dream, and indeed, find himself in some very strange company. The large and outwardly frightful man slowly got to his feet and, in his usual manner, quietly began to observe his surroundings.
It did not take him long to realize he was in a dream, for he certainly had not been so uncouth as to fall asleep in a museum, however much he wished he lived in one. Furthermore, the first thing that had caught his attention was the absence of his dear Charles, whom, under normal circumstances, he was never without. As he made passing glances at the various exhibits around him, noting that they had all related to something he'd studied or places he'd been, something caught his eye on the ground- Ah, his notebooks. Of course. In no hurry, he walked over and collected his treasures, the evidence and records of all of his research over the years.
Voices, coming from elsewhere. He made his way out of the room and turned to look in the general direction of the room in which they were coming from. While he was not a very social individual, Mai'iq had noted how odd this dream was, far too lucid yet uncontrolled to be normal. He suspected magic was at work. Providing these voices were other humans and not just manifestations of the dream, perhaps he could learn from them. Research in tow, he made his way towards the door of the ballroom and cracked the door, peering inside with the one eye he had that wasn't blinded by a milky cataract. In his usual manner, he slipped through the door as subtly as a 6'7", well-built, and muscled man like him could, giving a small nod of acknowledgement to anyone who happened to notice him in an attempt to be friendly. Never hurt to seem at least a bit open when you had a face known for scaring small children.
“DAMMIT WHEN I HEAR 'SPACE CQC' ALL I CAN THINK OF IS BIG BOSS WITH A FISHBOWL ON HIS HEAD, STRANGLING AN ASTRONAUT OUTSIDE THE ISS."
Drummer Boy
Friedrich briefly considered just grabbing Wilhelm and getting the hell out of there. This was like his old nightmares from the time when no one in the family was yet quite sure if Wilhelm could go to school without the destroying the building. Except Qaisar is an adult.
Oh, fuck. He marches straight to Eli and Qaisar and tries to snatch the marker away.
Wilhelm stops playing and stands up, pointing at the tall, creepy guy that just came in. "Oi, who're you?"
"I rather like wine," Bianca says flatly. "In moderation, of course."
To her, Amu seems too young to have more than a sip of wine, but she makes a delicate twisting motion with her wrist and a wine bottle appears in her hand. She doesn't even stop for a moment to wonder how it came to her or if Mother would be shrieking the next morning because someone had stolen the bottle of pinot noir that she was saving to enjoy at supper. Bianca pops the cork with magic and looks around for wineglasses, finding enough for everyone on one of the benches.
"To our good health and happiness," she says, pouring everyone half an inch of wine, just for taste. "I've been terrified of being poisoned, so I haven't had any wine in a long time."
edited 17th Apr '12 6:49:53 PM by SnowyFoxes
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!
Qrlil sniffed at the air again. There was definitely another scent, and it was definitely familiar from somewhere, although she couldn't quite place it. She moved forward slightly, staring into the mist for signs of movement.
"Hello?" she asked again.
Amu sniffed the wine with a curious expression. "Smells bit different."
Samira said, "I don't think you've had this exact sort of wine. The plant it comes from is... not easily found in your land." Well, not found at all, really.
Amu nodded and said, "huh. Has a good scent, mind, so I'll not complain." He swirled it, enjoying the scent. Then, feeling as though he should offer a toast in kind, he started to raise his glass. But he stopped half-way, trying to think if his people even had any toasts involving neither fatalism or violence. With a wry smile, he decided to just lower his glass and drink in silence.
Samira, still watching Amu warily, took a sip, nodding in approval at the taste. "Very nice," she said, "thank you, Bianca." Then, with her own slight, darkly amused smile, Samira pondered aloud, "is anyone here still capable of conversation that wouldn't permanently scar the psyches of small children? That'd be a nice change."
Qaisar moved with alarming speed, cheerfully snatching the marker for himself. He then hopped off the throne and said, "but my, you three look so very displeased." First to Lydia, he said, "my apologies, young lady. I did not mean to say that you were mad, you utterly misunderstand me. Merely that if you were not as thoughtful and peaceful as you mostly clearly are, the alternative, which you have not taken, would be madness. Do you accept my apology?" Without waiting for a reply, he added, "not that there's anything wrong with madness, of course. I'm quite mad, as you may have noticed."
<We would have never guessed without your input, Qaisar.>
Qaisar then turned to Matt and Friedrich and said, "and you two! Telling Eli what to do with his marker! Come now, neither of you have any sense of fun! Aren't you in the slightest bit intrigued at the possibilities? Aren't you at all fascinated at what could be?" Moving quickly to avoid any snatching hands, he sketched a Penrose triangle
in the air, and it dropped neatly upon the ground. Alarmingly, it was not merely an optical illusion
◊, but, impossibly, existed as a solid, unbroken object in the three dimensional universe.
Qaisar left it there and turned to the newcomer, utterly unintimidated. "Oh, hello! Qaisar Hosseini, man of the arts, sciences, and philosophies, at your service! A pleasure to meet you!"
edited 17th Apr '12 4:42:42 PM by KillerClowns
Wait, he was talking about the marker? Jonathan mentally smacked himself. Dum-dum.
Out of curiosity, he picked up the triangle and turned it over, examining it. It was confusing, to say the least, and Jonathan had never been good with optical illusions when they were illusions. Attempting to close his eyes and trace the frame with his fingers made it even harder.
...wait, who calls a marker a 'device'?
Jonathan shrugged to himself and set the triangle down on the fountain, in case someone else wanted to look at it. He examined the giant entering the room carefully, but said nothing.
Drummer Boy
"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE FUN WHEN YOU'RE A DOCTOR! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO KEEP OTHER PEOPLE FROM HAVING FUN SO THEY DON'T DIE AND YOU DON'T GET SUED FOR MALPRACTICE!"
Wilhelm goes to pick up the triangle and sticks his tongue out at Uncle Friedrich, as if saying, Ha ha, no one's dead and I get to play with this weird triangle!
Bianca smiles brightly at everyone and painstakingly takes a ladylike sip of wine before swallowing the rest in one gulp.
Oh, this is excellent. She refills her glass, forgetting that it's not polite, and notices that the bottle feels no lighter than it did before she started pouring. A wolflike grin appears on her face.
"And may our enemies learn to fear us."
edited 17th Apr '12 7:55:58 PM by SnowyFoxes
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!
Amu returned Bianca's grin with an equally vicious one, raised his glass high, and said, "may the names of our enemies die with their bodies!"
Samira considered this, recalling that the name of the Red King of the Alasu was lost from history. Or had it been erased? Amu's toast, at least, would be fulfilled.
Finishing the old — and for Samira, possibly heretical — Uelane toast she'd learned from Malo, Samira said, "and may the xau forever sing the names of our comrades." Amu looked over at Samira with a startled, but impressed and pleased, expression. Samira drank slowly, and even Amu, in contrast to his previous hunger, savored the wine as though every drop was precious, awkwardly cupping the glass with both hands.
Qaisar laughed merrily at Friedrich, dancing just out of reach as he spun the marker between his fingers. "Now, now, can I get an opinion poll. Me, humble, fun-loving me, or our ill-tempered friend Friedrich here, who at the slightest hint of merriment, explodes in rage: who among us truly the madman?" He grinned evilly at Friedrich before skipping away.
Without a moment's hesitation, Kokabiel chimed in, <I vote for Qaisar.>
edited 17th Apr '12 8:29:07 PM by KillerClowns
"A void?" Amu asks. "Without pain? Without hunger? Without suffering? Without responsibility? Xau, that sounds wonderful!" Then he thought about it for a moment, and frowned apologetically. "Well, 'least for a visit. How you survived bein' stuck there, I ain't gonna guess, but... er, sounds like this Iudicium fellow is another god I should send the God-Eater to chow on if'n I ever find the thing." Samira refrained from comment — she wasn't entirely sure whether or not she agreed with Amu.
Again, Samira motioned for Raphael to come join her on a bench, well away from Amu.
Amu continued, "reminds me. Gods. Nasty things. The Alasu are descended from gods, you see. We ain't, we're just accidents. 'Least that's how they tell it." Another bite of his apple. "But speaking honest, most of us Uelane are probably 'descended from gods' as well. Alasu man sees a pretty Uelane lass, and... sometimes she gets lucky, some 'paperwork error' leaves her with an Alasu name and citizenship. Not like you tell an Alasu from an Uelane at a glance, it ain't like we got purple hair or something. But usually, though..."
He shook the thought away with a shudder. "Sorry. Gods. Nasty bastards. Blessed the Alasu but not us. Like the odd sacrifice, and they ain't happy with just a pig either, catch my drift. But the worst is the Temple of the Merry One." His expression suddenly turned very dark, and as he picked at what little of his apple remained, simply said, "but I don't want to talk about the Temple of the Merry One."
"If I was dead," Zacharias said, amused, "I'm sure Kokabiel would be berating me for letting myself end up that way. And I'm not sure Earth's nuclear arsenal is enough to kill Kokabiel, and he's here. Besides, I think its soul has a... less pleasant destiny than this if it ever did get itself killed." Kokabiel decided not to chime in, remaining hidden.
Zacharias sniffed. The magical smell was gone, replaced by a scent of jasmine. "Very curious," he said, with a fond smile on his face. "Very curious indeed." Then a curious expression came to his face. This is a terrible idea, he thought to himself, but asked, "anyone have a knife? Or a needle? Something a tad pointy?"
edited 16th Apr '12 5:24:20 AM by KillerClowns