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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Aug 3, 2018 17:06:27 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M.
Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon. Immortal. Gift: A Touch of Gold.
The price of immortality was a high one, one that after centuries of existence he wasn't sure he was capable of paying for. It was one thing to read the stories of monsters and gods and another to watch as people he once knew grow old and frail with time while he remained unchanged, like a mountain standing firm. Society moved in a blur, always frantic and in fear of lost time. He moved slow, unhurried. How could he be when he had nothing but time on his side? If anything, that was the only constant in his life. Not people, not relationships, not memories, but time.
That was before he found out there were others like him, walking the streets. They were the living dead. They didn't have a pulse, their eyes were off- ancient and old in ways that was unnerving. He could see the same look settle in his eyes, the eyes of someone who had seen far too much and would continue to. It was the others that had given him a purpose in his never ending life.
They called themselves the Order of Aeon. They were like him in every way, immortal after having been brought back from the dead because somebody couldn't just let go. They had paid the price of twenty years to bring him back from the dead, had shaved off years from their own life to bring him back. Except he hadn't came back whole at all, he came back with something extra and no pulse and no sensation. The feeling of a human's touch on his body radiated no warmth, it was just a familiar weight and nothing more. Nothing killed him.
Injuries that would kill humans were things he could simply walk off like they were an inconvenience. The sharp piercing pain from a fall that would have broken every bone in his body lasted for maybe a minute, if not seconds. It was unnatural in every sense of the word. And where he was once a knight, noble and steadfast and certain of his duty, jousts and combat became more of a hindrance then something he could take pride in. It didn't matter that he was immortal. He was one man to a hundred and eventually his blade lost its sharp edge and the kingdom he protected fell as society progressed. And it had been of no help when epidemics of the mindless living dead plagued villages, turning once sane people into insane cannibals tearing one another apart alive.
Because if there was one other constant aside from time it was that society would always move forward. Humanity pressed on towards some shining beacon of progress. Even when dragons fled the valleys and turned to the mountains, they made their weapons deadlier. To what end? He knew not. It seemed as time went on, their weapons were no longer made for protection, but mutilation. There was no other purpose for a gun then to harm. It was not an offensive and defensive tool, it was made to hurt and nothing else.
He tucked his own firearm into his gun holster, hating the familiar weight of it against his side. It was filled with silver bullets in the off chance of a werewolf attack. The coming of a full moon was nigh, sooner or later there would be another 'vicious dog attack' for the papers to cover while he and others of the Order would have to chase them out of the streets of London. Given how restless the supernatural were for the time being, it was even possible that the werewolves might turn before the full moon.
It would be an anomaly as far as things went, but strange times were afoot. Just the other week off the coast of Norway, the esteemed Wings of Icarus crashed into jagged rocks. None of the crew made it out alive, having all drowned at sea. The last time he had seen such a violent and bold attack by the sirens had been back in the 1500s at the peak of Colonialism. They had quelled down more or less, only targeting smaller ships that wouldn't be missed in fear of people seeking them out to flay alive on their rocks. It had happened before despite the Order's protests to such assaults against the more passive of the creatures. The sirens were mischievous, brutal, and vicious creatures but they didn't go out of their way to kill. They only did so when sailors entered their parts of the sea.
Tucking his walking stick underneath his arm, he pulled out his pocket watch. He was running late though it wasn't entirely his fault. He had been out late in the witching hours, having long forsaken sleep once he had found out he just didn't need it. He couldn't even fall asleep easily without fighting for it and all it was was allowed him to be in a state of consciousness where he didn't have to deal with all the outside stimulus. A young man had found himself cornered by a vicious lot of satyr, looking to cause trouble. He was lucky Noah had showed up when he did, taking care of the satyrs and scaring them off. He had even brought the young man home to sate his peace of mind. There was no way the satyr wouldn't go back looking for easy pickings once the demon hunter was gone if the young man was still out on the streets alone.
All of this led him back here, running fifteen minutes late to the Council meeting despite having made haste. It was a tad bit frustrating, but they hardly pressed anybody's case for showing up late. They just started without them. Hopefully, one of the others would catch him up to speed. Rounding the corner, he took in the sight of the current hosting member's, Zachary Dunn, house. It was a large architectural wonder, ridiculously expensive and luxurious. It made him wonder if Dunn had something he wanted to make up for.
Entering the room, he was surprised to find that everyone was sitting around the table making small talk among one another. Raising an eyebrow, he settled down into his own seat before Urwa Hashmi, one of the elders, raised her head to look at him. She seemed amused that he was late for once. "Nice of you to finally join us."
"It's an honor you all decided to wait, in all honesty," he said in turn, smiling cheekily to hide his confusion and embarrassment. Hashmi, bless her, seemed to accept that and let the subject matter drop.
Instead, she cleared her throat and looked around the room. "Well as you know, all of our kind hunt in pairs." There was a pregnant pause as a few others fixed him with a stare. So it was that conversation again. He wondered why it was that important to them, the soul bond between pairs and the complimentary ability in combat. There was an odd number of immortals to start things off and none of them were compatible with him. He had been doing just fine on his own. Though he had cut it close on some occasions, it wasn't like he could die.
A look was shared between Hashmi and Cerularius that he couldn't help but question the meaning of. It seemed like they were conversing in private through their soul bond, sharing a fear that he didn't understand the root of. "It's dangerous otherwise and though you haven't bonded with any of the newer immortals, there's been a spike of dark magic in Italy. There's reason to believe that another immortal has been born there and the council has agree that you will be tasked with tracking down the new immortal."
Something told him it had something to do with the fact that he was unbonded but apart of the council. He was old, he was experienced, and he had countless supernatural kills under his belt. But there was a fear that something would happen to him that was unfounded and unvoiced, but projected in everything they did around him. They were afraid that he was going to go off the deep end or something of the sort. "This is because I came late, isn't it?" He said jokingly, but there was no laughter to be shared. Frowning thoughtfully, he shrugged at the lack of response. "Alright, so be it."
There seemed to be a shared sigh of relief as he let the case go to rest. He wasn't in the mood to fight with the rest of the council. There were many that were centuries older than him, but his reputation as a skilled demon hunter earned him the right to sit among them. Then, moments after they relaxed, conversation returned to tense matters.
The spikes in supernatural activity was not only becoming more and more common across the continent, it was said that telegrams from across the globe from other members of the order shared the same news. Though nobody voiced it, Noah knew. Something was coming.
It was something that seemed to unnerve even the elders and that didn't bode well with him. It had to be part of some ancient writings of the Order or something of the sort. He wanted to know more, but it seemed like those who knew anything about it feared voicing the name of the creature that was coming in the off chance it gave it excess power. Afterwards, the meeting ended without much preamble and he found himself on a boat to Italy. The trip itself was slow, but the opportunity to take in the sights wasn't half bad. The oceans were a clean crisp blue and apparently there were no violent sirens around here. That or they knew better then to test their luck with a ship carrying a demon hunter.
When his feet finally hit the docks of Sicily, it was with relief. It was familiar and comforting, the presence of solid ground beneath his feet and given that he had not been able to sleep and hardly needed food, the sight of the blue of the ocean eventually became drab to look at. Even the odd bird now and then couldn't muse him from his boredom, and he spent the rest of the ride sharpening his blade and taking stock of his bullets, weapons, herbs, and tools.
Pulling out his magic tracking compass, he sighed as it almost all at once pointed inland. After several days voyaging deeper inland, at times on foot, other times on a horse carriage, he eventually found himself at his destination. The arrow of the compass itself was going haywire as it pointed to the building in front of him. He couldn't help but chuckle in amusement. Looking up at the pub he was currently standing in front of, he couldn't help but find himself amused. If their first priority was a drink after coming back from the dead, then he found that he couldn't dislike them.
Pushing the door open, he scanned the crowd, glossing over the duller and darker souls. He knew exactly what he was looking for in an immortal. There was an unnatural glow to their soul, a writhing mass of dark and light contending against one another. Eventually, the lighter aspects of the soul won over, it was the reason why they were champions of humanity despite their inhuman characteristics. Or at least that was how the stories went. He had been told his soul held a gold tint to it, matching his "gift", but there was something that they weren't telling him.
He spotted it almost immediately, the soul at war with itself, fighting with the darkness of death that still lingered. Even after centuries, it would linger, but in time the internal conflict over control and mastery became easier.
Settling down next to the large man, he paged down the bartender and ordered a beer before turning to the other man. There were things he noted almost immediately. This man was tall, well built and he held himself like a fighter. It wouldn't surprise Noah if he was involved with the mob given where they were, in the heart of Sicily. That might have been the same reason why he was dead, but it didn't really explain why anyone would bring him back. Once he received his drink, he took a swig despite how tasteless it was. If he wanted to feel the kick of the alcohol he would need something stronger, but as it was he would deal with this.
"You look like something the cat dragged in," he offered conversationally, clearly amused. "It's a little jarring coming back from the dead, isn't it?"
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Post by The Blue Adept on Aug 4, 2018 2:06:16 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
The last thing Adrione remembered was the flash of a gun. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was darkness. For a moment he was certain he was dead, barely able to move his arms and blinking left no immediate change in his vision. As his senses caught up, he could feel rough fabric brushing against his skin, and the crushing weight of whatever was on top of him. The second he moved his limbs around, he realized where he was - six feet under, and still kicking.
Panic rattled around in his brain almost instantly, and it took an immense amount of willpower to stop himself from hyperventilating right then and there. His mind still couldn't recall how he ended up here, all he could think about was how he was going to get out. Every time he moved the ground shifted around him, loose- the dirt clearly still fresh. He was only poorly wrapped in some sort of tarp, the only thing keeping him from choking down sod. It was odd, he found that no matter how hard his lungs worked they didn't ache or burn from lack of oxygen. Adrione held himself together and pried himself from whatever makeshift grave he'd been dumped into.
It was dark out when his head finally breached the surface, the faint glow of the moon illuminating the scene around him. It was, quite clearly, the middle of nowhere. Not a place he recognized, sparsely decorated with trees and dead grass, clearly not a place that was frequented by people. Head aching, he pulled himself all the way out, wiping the dirt and grime from his face, taking a moment to get his bearing, this time on proper ground. Something felt strangely wrong inside of him, and it grew more clear the longer he held onto it, the more breaths he took, the more his heart thudded in his chest. He felt so...numb, aside from the growing pain in his head. As much as he struggled, he still couldn't figure out what happened, fruitless efforts bearing only weak blurry memories.
Glancing down at himself, he noticed the large stains on his shirt, which he first assumed to be dirt or mud but quickly recognized to be dried blood. How long exactly had he been down there? It made absolutely no sense. No person could survive being buried alive that long. Unless of course, he hadn't been buried alive at all. Adrione stood and stared at the hole in the ground he had crawled from and quietly wondered if he'd just risen straight out of Hell. It certainly felt like it.
Leaning over, he caught glimpse of something that had been buried with him, reflecting the moonlight ever so slightly. He pulled it free, wiping the dirt from it and turning it in his hands. It was a revolver, and one that he recognized. It's owner was a man named Gallicano Nicoletti, a man he'd done business with before on a few occasions- he'd cared for his sick wife more than once. They were neither friends nor enemies, though he distinctly recalled his sister never quite trusting him properly. Said he sneered when he talked, that his words had too much bite. Adrione never knew her to be wrong.
He stumbled forward as he felt a sharp pain in his head once more, a memory rising on a wave of nausea.
"I'm not looking to ask you this again, Adrione"
Gallicano had that look on his face, the one he used when he wanted something and was only barely trying to hide the fact he would knock your teeth out for it. Adrione had never been on the receiving end of it.
They were standing in the kitchen of Gallicano's home, a big thing made small that was often cluttered from use. There were a handful of other men in the room, none that Adrione recognized or had any sense to care about. Gallicano never had the balls to meet him alone. Adrione leaned on the table behind him, arms crossed.
"And I'm not looking to tell you this again, not a cent of your dirty money is worth anything I can give you. Ask someone else- maybe a real idiot," he replied, expression twitching with annoyance. This was the third time this month Gallicano had tried to buy drugs off him, with money Adrione knew he had killed to get, and he wasn't keen on risking the very large chance that someone was going to come after it.
Gallicano's expression soured. "Don't act like you don't need the money."
"I'm sorry, I don't gamble my salary away every time I get it. I happen to have an ounce of pride, Nicoletti."
Adrione saw the flicker of anger in Gallicano's eyes. It wouldn't be the last time he saw it.
Mouth dry, he tucked the revolver into his wasitband for good measure. If on the off-chance he was in fact alive when he should not be, it never hurt to be armed. He had a feeling that Gallicano's gun was not buried with him as a going-away present. You don't get dumped into a shallow, unmarked grave if you died of natural causes. He huffed out a sigh and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the man didn't off him over something so absolutely ridiculous.
As he stepped away, it dawned on him that he wasn't so sure anyone even knew he was gone, other than whoever had killed him. Astrid would've certainly had Gallicano's head on a platter if she knew, but she also wouldn't have left his corpse to rot in the middle of nowhere, alone. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear for a few days, whether for work or travel or doing her a favor, so it was entirely possible that no one yet knew anything happened. For some reason, that made him unreasonably angry. He wanted to wring Gallicano's neck with his bare hands- or better yet, shoot him with his own gun. Gallicano didn't even deserve the full wrath of the Dal Portos- his own was good enough.
Dragging a hand through his dirty, bloodied hair, he backed away from the grave and started walking, trying to find a road of some sort that might take him into town. There was no telling when that would be, but it gave him time to think. Unfortunately, the more he thought the more it made his head throb. He really had no choice but to accept the fact that he was alive when he definitely shouldn't have been, no sign of any wound on his body but the sheer amount of blood on him indication of something fatal. He was teetering on the edge of absolutely losing it at this realization, and the only thing keeping him from the precipice was the steady steps he took, the sound of grass crunching beneath his shoes.
If he was any more a religious man he might think it an act of God, or even the act of a demon. Surely if he turned up in town like this someone would call for an exorcism, or at least the police. Gallicano for sure would see him to be a bat out of hell, but that thought amused him more than it confused him. In all his years of studying medicine, there was no way to bring someone back from the dead, nothing other than an absolute miracle.
Adrione was not a man that was graced with miracles.
He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do next, other than blow Gallicano's brains out. He didn't feel right at all, he didn't feel the relief that a person who had somehow cheated death might feel. In fact, he felt a heavy weight on his shoulders, as if death were still trying to drag him back down. The night time breeze did nothing to calm him, and he could barely feel it on his skin. He wasn't cold, he wasn't hot, he didn't feel tired despite the amount of time he'd been walking surely warranted it.
The evidence was hard to ignore. He was a walking corpse. He was not reborn, rejuvinated, alive. He was still dead, just with breath in his lungs and stale blood in his heart. It wasn't a state he could just return in. He couldn't show up at his sister's doorstep, looking for a bed and a shoulder to lean on. Adrione didn't want her to be upset over his death, but his issue was certain to bring about more problems that grieving wouldn't be able to fix.
Perhaps if he understood what the absolute hell was going on he would go to her first, but he couldn't bring himself to. Not until he had answers, not until he understood this curse.
The one good thing it did for him was give him the perfect opportunity to murder a man with absolutely no consequences. Adrione had crawled out of a hole in the ground, but right now Gallicano was the dead man walking.
It was still dark out by the time Adrione reached town. It was one he recognized- the last one he remembered, where he'd run into the villain himself while on a housecall. If it had only been a few days, Adrione hoped that he was still lurking about somewhere, waiting for his opportunity to escape back to Palermo without suspicion.
Adrione made no move to hide the gun on his person as he approached the front door of the house of another Nicoletti, Vincenzo. He was no more likable than his cousin, but he'd shared enough drinks with him to know that if there was a place Gallicano would hide, it would be here. He knocked deflty three times, and was met with silence. The air felt heavy, almost tangible with fear, as if he could physically pluck the emotion from the air in front of him. It only grew louder as footsteps approached the door, frantic whispers muffled from behind the wood.
The door opened, shedding dim yellow light across the porch. Adrione only hoped that he looked as awful as he imagined himself to be. The reaction on Vincenzo's face was comedic with the way his jaw dropped, legs practically giving out as he scrambled backwards.
"You- you're...how in God's name are you alive!" his shrill voice rang. Adrione only staredwith a bitter fury. Gallicano was in the corner of the entryway, hands gripped tight and trembling around the trigger of a shotgun. His eyes were struck with wild, primal fear. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Adrione pulled the revolver free from where he'd tucked it and spun the barrel with a satisfying click. Gallicano was a fool to top it off just to kill one man. The was only a single bullet missing. He tiled his head at Gallicano, gaze piercing. "I thought I told you not to f*ck with me."
Neither of the men were given a chance to speak before Adrione shot them both dead, tossing the now-emptied gun onto the floor beside him. The room felt cold now, the strange thick air he felt earlier gone. The sound of shots rang in his ears, a fresh reminder of exactly what had happened to him. He was certain now that his reanimation was nothing other than supernatural in nature. One does not miraculously recover from a bullet to the head.
He sighed heavy, feeling no better about the situation, but at the very least satisfied that Gallicano wouldn't plague his family and friends any longer. He stepped back from the house without an ounce of urgency, even as porchlights began to flicker on at the sound of the ruckus he'd caused. Adrione walked away and back to the road, which he followed to the next town.
What exactly was there for him to do next? He wanted answers, so he supposed his next option was to seek them out. Find some sort of explanation, make some sort of sense of it. Going home wasn't an option at the moment.
The throbbing in his head had finally left, and in its place was left with a unnvering numbed feeling. God, he needed a drink. It was a day or two later by the time he made it to the local pub a few towns over, having spared a few detours to attempt to wash the blood and dirt off his body in a passing river. His clothes were beyond ruin, but at the very least he could pass it off as a mudstain, which it sort of was at this point. The first thing he noticed when he stepped inside was how heavy the air was once again, as if everyone's words lingered just too long in the air after they spoke. Frankly, it was a little suffocating, and he wasted no time approaching the bartender and ordering something strong.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he folded himself over his drink and tried to calm his brain, the liquid doing nothing but leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He wasn't sure how long he sat there for, and just as he contemplated leaving, Adrione startled to the voice of the man beside him, who he had not noticed approach.
Adrione wasn't sure whether or not this man was just making a well-timed joke, but his words made his blood run cold. Slowly lifting his head, his eyes searched the mans expression for any hint that he was fooling around, unable to tell. The amused look on his face was one he oft saw on clever men that knew more than they let on. As startled as he must've looked, he tried not to let it show too much. Really, he wasn't entirely sure what he looked like at all right now. Clearly not great.
He held his drink still in his hands, steadying his thoughts. It was easier to ignore the background noise when he was looking at someone, talking to them. The air around this man cut through the heaviness of the room. His amusement was more tangible than what Adrione saw on his face. There was something else in there too, something...strange. Weighty. Cold. It was like watching two opposite currents meet.
It was a moment before he finally spoke. Though curious, he was still skeptical. He had no reason to believe this man had any idea what was going on with him, and he wasn't about to have holy water thrown at him just yet or scalpels peeling open his skin. "Hm. You don't strike me as the type to have had many brushes with death," he replied, voice still low and warm despite however long he'd spent dead in the ground. "I can assure you my bedraggled appearance is innocent in nature."
There was of course the possibility that this man knew him, and in that case that line was probably laughable. "Though I hope you aren't here to interrogate me for something. This isn't quite the place for it."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Aug 4, 2018 4:37:17 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M.
Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon. Immortal. Gift: A Touch of Gold.
The newly found immortal looked every bit like the living dead. Though his visage wasn't pale and stricken, he hadn't bothered to change out of his blood stained clothes. It held an alarming amount of blood and from the pattern of the stained fabric, it would look like the bullet had went through one side of his head and out. He was surprised that there wasn't anyone in the pub reacting in fear or confusion at the other man's appearance, but then again, given the sort that frequented this area there was a possibility that they thought the blood was someone else and not his and holding their tongue would keep their head on their shoulders.
Either way, the lack of response from the man who had been clearly called out amused him and he smiled slightly. There had been a brief flicker of something that had looked like shock at the weight of his words, but it had been brief enough that had Noah been a lesser man unsure with himself, he wouldn't have believed he had seen anything at all. But years and years of existence told him that even if there was no outward response, the words would sit heavy in the pit of the other man's stomach.
He leaned back casually, making it so that the the golden flash of his lapel pin would catch the younger man's eyes. It was a cross, except instead of two diagonal lines, it was intersected by the infinity symbol. It was the symbol of the Order and any soul who believed in the supernatural creatures that followed them every step of the way would recognize it. Or at the very least, even if he was a nonbeliever, he would come to suspect something strange was afoot. It was the least Noah could hope. It would be painful to be left with someone who wasn't sharp witted and took more tutelage than others. Though Noah was a skilled mentor for immortals, he took well to those who showed great promise and were quick paced as he was in terms of picking up new things.
But as the man began to respond, he couldn't help but feel pleased with the turn of events. The other man was quick witted and good with his words, something that could be said for a rare few. Well, this was bound to be charming anyhow. He shrugged, taking another swig of his beer. It was tasteless just like everything else. The aroma of it hung tangible in the air like everything else, but the coolness of the liquid and the taste of it was missing. It was like swallowing down a lukewarm broth and he wrinkled his face in displeasure. He should have went for something stronger.
"Appearances can be deceiving," he said lightly, hoping his point was coming across. Though there was the off chance that it could lead the young immortal to assume that his response meant that he was well acquainted with death in other ways. But he had tasted the kiss of a blade against his neck, slicing it clean off. He was beheaded in combat, a symbol of his kingdom's downfall. There should have been no way in hell that the body would find it's way back to the head, but somehow it did. Somehow.
"Though I dare say I think I know a thing or two more than you do about your current predicament," he added, hoping to incite some interest from the younger man. He offered the other a cryptic smile as he placed down a handful of coins and moved to leave. "Though I agree, now is neither the time nor the place to talk about these matters."
The message was clear as day. There were some things best discussed in private, especially around these seedy areas. There was always folk listening in on conversations, trying to learn more about the secret society that the Order of Aeon was. They knew of the demon hunters, but they didn't know of the rituals that brought about new immortals. They didn't know the price it costed to walk among their ranks and though they knew there was something inherently off about their self-proclaimed protectors, they didn't know the truth to it. They only knew that there was nobody better equipped for handling all matters supernatural other than the Order.
And that was how the immortals liked it.
The more the public came to know of them, the more trouble it would ignite. There would be multiple attempts to find a method to kill them if they could trace back the roots of how they even came to be. It wasn't as if the people didn't try multiple methods of killing hunters who didn't resist arrest. They tried to handle them in the same way the colonists of America had killed innocent women, practicing simple healing spells and protection spells for the betterment of their communities.
He had witness hunters burn alive, screaming themselves hoarse but never to lose their voice. They burned but healed just to burn again, unable to die. Some lost their minds, others were saved by less passive immortals unwilling to let their kind suffer needlessly at the hands of those they swore to protect.
When these immoral attacks came to an end in the earlier part of the 1700s when it became clear they couldn't die to the Church and State, they were left alone because they didn't cause as much trouble as the supernatural did. But if new information became available to the public, there was no telling the lengths that they would go through to stomp them out. It was no secret that many people believed the Order to be a cult of sorts and their immortality a blessing from the devil himself. After all, those that became the Dark Ones only furthered this belief.
Their eyes became pitch black, disgusting and blank as the eyes of those possessed. They were one of the few causes he knew that could kill an immortal, but rarely were they powerful enough that one of the elders or council members couldn't handle them. Sometimes they claimed dozens if not hundreds of lives in their wake, including some younger immortals. But they were rare and few in between, often times occurring in the younger of their ranks who befell insanity or lost in combat to the demons. It was unfortunate and if he were to be truthful, mournful. It was never easy to stomach the death of someone who couldn't age and die through normal means.
There was just no telling when there time would come to an end. No preparing for the untimely demise and the ruin left in their wake. But he was old, teetering on the edge of his 600s. And such a fate had yet to claim him, so he supposed he was just not meant for the hunter's soul bond.
He trailed slowly along, lost in thought but conscious of his surroundings. He was waiting for the telltale sound of the younger immortal's footsteps. For the other man to follow him. There was nothing like curiosity to humans. He couldn't remember the last time he had thought of them as the same thing as him. Immortals were just different from humans, it was the simple truth.
His heart didn't beat in his chest. There was no reassurance of his existence to be found when a child pressed their head to his chest, seeking comfort in the rhythm of his heart. He didn't bleed when he was injured, gashing wounds left open and hollow before stitching itself up without any red. It had been unnerving at first to see how inhuman he had became, but now it was just another fact of life. The same couldn't be said for the young immortal. He had ended one life to begin another.
He was days old by their standard, an easy soul to prey on and turn if a demon had found him first. But his soul radiated something pure at it's very core, something warm that was associated with his gift. Noah couldn't help but wonder what it was that gave off such a familiar feeling. Like somehow, they had met before. But not in this century and certainly not in the young immortal's lifetime.
Stopping once he had found an abandoned alleyway, he looked around seeing no glimmer of a soul in sight. The light or darkness in souls were unmistakable, they lingered in the heart of all living things. Seeing it wasn't a given, but a learned skill and some preferred utilizing it only when necessary. He never saw a reason to stop. There was nothing more telling of a person's intentions then by the light they gave off. Even the brightest souls darkened slightly when they lied.
Glancing up, he waited for the flicker of the combating soul of the young immortal to show up. He was making a gamble, but here where there was no other soul in sight was safer then anywhere else. The buildings on either side of this alleyway were closed shops, empty for the night. The stench of waste hung in the air and the salty air from the sea blew inland. It was normal. Not a single thing out of place. But for some reason, he couldn't help but wonder why it was then that he felt like something was off. There had been questionable glances from the others', conversations being had that he was being left out of. There was something coming and whatever it was, they did not trust him to be apart of.
Regardless, he steeled himself. Placing his walking stick on the ground, he leaned his weight onto it casually, humming to a child's lullaby as he waited.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Aug 5, 2018 21:31:02 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
Adrione wasn't sure what he expected in response from the man. There was a part of him that did desperately wish for this to be some sort of coincidence, another supposed miracle, as too good to be true as it sounded. The bar wasn't exactly set very high at the moment, that was certain. He watched the man carefully, trying to get a better read on him now that he had a moment to. Even though the lighting in the pub didn't make it easy, Adrione could make out the smaller stature of the man and the flash of his smile- a mischievous, curious thing. Perhaps on other folk it would've unnerved him, tipped him off to some ulterior motive, yet he couldn't help but feel intrigued.
It was then that he caught the flash of the man's lapel pin, and he took just a moment too long to stare. At first he believed it to be some sort of creative way of wearing the cross, but the longer he looked the more he recognized it. Not deeply so- something that didn't seem important at the time he encountered it. The fact that it was showing up a second time in his life, and at two strange moments, had to mean something.
He recalled it now, an easier memory to call upon. It was years back, not too far, back in the earlier days of his career. Days of innocence and naivety to the suffering of those around him. He was apprenticing at the time to an older doctor, and they were on housecall in a rural town to a poor farmer's girl. She had been wracked with fever and coughs and nothing seemed to alleviate her symptoms. The two of them were beyond weary serving her the last dose of cough syrup they had on hand, one that hardly worked to even dull the pain. He distinctly remembered finding a few of her symptoms to be odd, ones that he tried to write off as being due to the severity of her illness.
When she wasn't sleeping, she was thrashing in her bed, voice hoarse as if it didn't belong to her at all. He remembered his mentor to be a little shaken up, leaving the room when having to treat her in that state. Adrione had wiped bloody tears from her face, looking into her exhausted eyes and hoping she soon was graced with a kind mercy.
No one could figure out what was wrong with her, and the two of them spent their time watching her waste away. They weren't the only ones who'd been called upon in desperation. The flash of that gold pin hung in his mind. He had been sitting on the stoop as his mentor talked with the girl's parents inside, taking a moment to breathe the fresh night air. A person approached, a person whose face he could no longer recall, and nodded in acknowledgment in his direction. That pin had been stuck to the cuff of their coat. Adrione didn't get the chance to see them exit. By the time he stepped back inside, the girl was dead.
It was only now that he suspected she might've been possessed.
Adrione had never had very many experiences relating to anything supernatural. In the area he grew up, it was regarded with more superstition than realism. The prevalence of religion alone was enough for most people to ignore anything strange, though if anyone suspected you to be anything but holy, you'd be hearing from the Vatican. Or so they said. The closest Adrione ever got was rumors, places to avoid as a kid, which he only really supposed was to keep him out of trouble rather than warn him of actual monsters.
It was unfortunate that life decided to make up for this lost time all at once. His mind kicked into overdrive, trying to decide what exactly he might be. Some sort of undead? He internally cringed at the ridiculousness of the thought. There was no sort of biting hunger eating away at him, no ungodly desires weighing heavy in his bones. Really, it was more alarming that he didn't quite feel anything. Ugh. He really was going to have to venture into the occult just to figure this out.
And yet, that still didn't explain this mysterious stranger, nor the origins of the golden pin. His response only spiked Adrione's curiosity more, even as he doubted that this man knew anything about what was going on. He watched him pay for his drink and head out the door, the cutting aura that surrounded him following suit, the spot he left behind absorbed once more into the thrall of the pub's atmosphere. It was alarming how terrible he felt without it.
Lingering for a moment longer, he sighed and paid for his own drink and slid from his seat. This could go very badly, but it wasn't like he anything to lose right now. He stepped outside, sucking in a breath of the crisp air, gratefully to finally be free of the heavy room. Outside his mind finally felt clear. It was darker out once more but not cold, even as the breeze from the sea ruffled his hair. The smell of it was nostalgic, comfortingly so.
Another spike of pain made his head ache, making him drop his face into his hands as he followed after the man. It was as if some of his mind truly had been lost when his brains had been scattered in the dirt. He'd just have to be patient for it to all come back proper, but until then he had to keep it together before this stranger, who he subsequently followed into an alleyway.
That wasn't suspicious at all, no. Adrione bit back the urge to laugh. Even as it hurt to remember, he couldn't help but think about similar scenarios he'd encountered in just this place, though with far less strangeness to them. And more guns. And threats, usually. This turn of events was almost refreshing in comparison.
It did make him wonder more about this man. Adrione always considered himself to be good at reading others, but this one stumped him. The way the man held himself so casually, the lack of urgency of it all, it was a sign of someone who had experience beyond their years. Or, of someone rich who had plenty to leisure, but it was odd to find a rich man pilfering in the streets of a rural Italian town, talking to a bloodied dead man.
Then again, he'd risen from the dead, so he couldn't quite rule out more strange things happening. He just had to know what this man knew, if he was bluffing, tricking him, maybe going to kill him again. Whatever the answer was, he'd be satisfied. Dragging his hands across his face with another sigh, Adrione lifted his head and rounded the corner into the alleyway with all the air of someone that had done it many times before. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, glancing at the man across from him.
Well, the cane was an interesting piece. Maybe he actually was being tricked by some rich fellow. And then he noticed that strange feeling again, the aura surrounding the man. Out here with no one around it was far easier to get a read on. It was a complicated feeling, one he didn't quite understand. Though what he did know, what he could easily tell now that they were alone, was that it was unmistakably warm. Considering the fact he couldn't even feel the cold night's air, it was peculiar. He was so drawn to it. It was then that he wondered when his heart had quit beating, or if it actually had been this whole time.
His gaze flickered over to the pin once more. It was really starting to bother him that he couldn't place where it was from. He frowned from the effort of trying to remember, but he knew it was something. Some sort of group symbol, he'd heard of it before, the name eluding him just like everything else. The mysteries really just kept piling up one after another.
Finally his curiosity forced him to speak. "If this is what you consider a better place to talk, I might think you're about to threaten me, sir," he commented, looking around the alley and tilting his head to accentuate his point. "Though perhaps you are about to bargain with me, since you say you have answers."
He didn't want to keep his voice too curt, but he had to make sure it was clear he didn't plan on being taken advantage of at the moment, no matter how vulnerable he might look- dirty, with bloody clothes and a weary look. He nodded in the man's direction. "Tell me then. Tell me what you think is going on here. I'd not like to waste your time if you're wrong."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Aug 6, 2018 20:13:39 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M. Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
There was a lot that could be said about his judgment. It was rarely wrong. After centuries of existence, it would be a bit pathetic if he didn't wise up to the ways of the world. He would be a subject of mockery if he couldn't even utilize the power that curiosity contained. That and the young immortal looked lost. Like a stray with no home to return to. Though maybe he did have a place waiting for him and somebody wondering if they succeeded or failed. He knew he had had somebody waiting for his return with eagerness. It was one of the hardest parts about talking to the newly turned.
No matter who they were or how different they thought themselves to be, the crushing weight of the news that he would have to be the bearer of would hurt all the same. He remembered seeing it on dozens of faces coming to the conclusion that they had been resurrected at a heavy price. Everybody responded the same way. It was always with the same question, no matter the wording or the language it was always the same question. Can I reverse it?
And left unspoken was: I don't deserve this.
He had stood at that precipice before, a fraction of his age now. He had held tight to his father's corpse like he could change the course of time itself if he tried hard enough. Tightening his jaw, he lowered his head. He hated this role, the harbinger of bad news. He took well to mentoring, helping them assimilate into every day life as a young immortal. He was patient and kind, able to help they figure out their gifts and even attempt to control it. But telling them what had happened to them? That was something else entirely.
He saw it then. The faint flicker of the other man's soul the second he started to round the corner and then... the entire writhing mass of black and white with hints of purple. It was warm and untainted, even though the darkness that had settled in after death clawed at the white. It was a mass of pure energy, so honest and open in ways people never could be.
Noah lifted his head to smile at the younger man. With that kind of a conversation starter, he supposed they were off to a running start. "Well then, does that make you the cat that curiosity killed?" He asked, tilting his head before laughing softly. All things considered, they both were dead. He shifted his weight from his right onto his left, leaning comfortably against his cane, not concerned with the slight air of defensiveness that radiated from the younger man.
It was only normal. He had risen from the dead, alone and confused. Perhaps even buried- that was the normal thing, wasn't it? Having a proper funeral rather than being left among a sea of dead rotting bodies? He wasn't sure what was worse. And then there was the phantom lingerings of things like starvation and sensation, things that once screamed of existence and now only proved how inhuman they had become. He remembered travelling for days thinking he was going to die if he didn't eat anything, not feeling hunger but his mind kept up the illusion of it.
And when he had eaten, it had been tasteless. Just texture. Hard and slimy, cold and stiff buttered bread. He wondered at what point of acceptance was the other man at. Did he just find out that his heart wasn't pounding in his chest? Did he learn yet that if he was to get another grave wound, he would not die no matter how agonizing the pain? Did he feel the breeze but not register the sensation of coldness? Had he already tapped into his power, unhinged and unknown as it was?
His gaze was ageless, heavy and burdened with experience as he looked at the other man. Then he made a decision and sighed, turning away from the younger man so that his back was to him. "My name is Noah Wright, a demon hunter of the Order of Aeon." He said decisively, starting with simple facts.
It was the first bit of information that would be crucial to the young immortal. A name so that he could claim some equal footing. After all, Noah had all the answers and the young immortal had all the questions. So those were two answers. "It's not common knowledge, but it isn't any secret either that the Order of Aeon is composed of unnatural beings. Beings like..." He paused here, glancing over his shoulder to see if there was any reaction, "Like you and I."
"You came back from the dead recently," he said it in a way that left no room for argument. He rounded on the other man, finally nearing him for the first time since he arrived in the quiet alleyway. "Somebody paid a heavy price to bring you back, but they didn't bring you back whole. You've probably noticed it already. After all, whatever fatal wound you took seemed to be right to the head and now you're back and there isn't even a hole where the bullet entered and exited." He gestured at the young man's face, allowing his appearance to prove exactly what he had said.
It wasn't like he looked all that charming at the moment with blood all over his face and the collar of his shirt. He looked like he had taken a bottle over the head but there was no dampness in his hair nor lingering stench of alcohol.
"I don't know who brought you back, I can't answer that." Before the other man could protest, however, he held up his hands placatingly, "But you can. Whoever brought you back must have loved you greatly. They gave up twenty years of their life so that you could walk again. They don't know what they've done. Now that you're back, you're immortal. You can't die through normal means. You don't age. You just are. Timeless and eternal."
"So there," he said, clapping his hands together as he leaned back and away from the other man. "Therein lies the answer to your question."
He offered a small encouraging smile, "I know it's a lot to take in, but if you have any questions I'm more than willing to answer them for you. But I'm going to have to tell you now that I can't allow you to leave my side either. It's my duty, as the guide the Order has sent to help you on your way, to bring you back to the Order of Aeon so that we can make sure you don't turn."
And just like that, he offered the other man another question. There was so much he didn't know, so much he could not understand. He would. All in due time.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Aug 10, 2018 4:21:20 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
Adrione thought he was ready for the truth, thought he knew the truth. As much as he wanted this man to have answers, he wasn't expecting him to actually have them. This entire conversation was a shot in the dark as is.
He had to admit he was rather skeptical at first, especially when the phrase demon hunter escaped the man's lips. As if he had a place to be questioning any of this, considering he was the one without answers. A look of disbelief crossed his face, squinting across at Noah. He hated to think about how well it added up. The Order of Aeon...it must've been the group that the pin belonged to, which confirmed his suspicions from the first time he saw the pin.
His expression smoothed out, as if to signal for Noah to continue. He couldn't stop himself from being defensive, he hated to think he was vulnerable at all in front of this stranger, but it was true. He was in a very bad position, one in which he could do nothing but listen. Adrione was used to having something over people in situations like this, and in this case the only thing he had was the fact he could probably snap Noah in half with his bare hands.
Of course he didn't expect the conversation to go that way, but he could.
Adrione wasn't so sure about this air of mystery that Noah was putting forth- he rather liked when people were straight to the point, especially in situations like this. Situations wherein he was willing to listen to a stranger for answers to his problem. He was starting to regret his choices a little bit, though kept listening nonetheless.
It was then that Noah actually gave him a real answer and he felt something in his gut twist. Unnatural beings? That seemed like a rather strange way of putting it. But, 'like you and I'? That was not something Adrione expected. He just assumed maybe he was something that had been studied before, he never thought he'd be meeting someone similar to him so quickly. It immediately peaked both his curiosity and his suspicion. He narrowed his eyes at Noah as if to look him over for any telling signs, something that might tip him off to undead-ness. Visually he looked perfectly normal, but that aura was strange. Was that somehow related? God, he was already racking up far too many questions.
But the more he heard, the more questions piled up in his head. It really was starting to dawn on him the reality, the gravity of the situation. Was Noah telling the truth? Was he really immortal? It wasn't as if monsters didn't exist in this world, it just seemed too far-fetched to be happening to him. Unfortunately he didn't have a better explanation for it. There was already far too much compelling evidence, no matter how skeptical he wanted to be.
Adrione sucked in a breath and pressed his palms to his face, frowning. 20 years? 20 years someone had to sacrifice for this, for him. There was no doubt about it in his mind- he didn't deserve it. In fact, he was more surprised his own death hadn't come sooner, the ultimate karma of all the sins he'd ever committed, whether he felt guilty for them or not. Immortality was such a classic curse, it was almost comical that he was. A man who watched so many people die to never die himself. He'd never felt such a heavy weight on his shoulders.
That still left the question of who brought him back in the first place, and he had trouble picturing who it might've been. Someone who loved him enough to sacrifice 20 years. Generally his first pick would be his sister, but she had real people to take care of, a lot of responsibility and people that relied on her. He would never expect her to do something like that for him, as much as she might want to bite the bullet in his stead. Besides, it was unlikely she knew he died at all.
The truth was as such- Adrione had more enemies than friends. That was just the way things went with his life, the connections he had. Even when he tried hard to help others, not all of it was received well, even with good intentions. Sometimes you get blamed if you try and someone dies anyways- he never shied from that reality. Though adept at networking, he had always preferred to be loyal to a close few, those that he truly would die for. Sure, there were people that loved him, but people that would sacrifice that much for him?
Even if they would, none of those people would be privy to his death. He'd been on-call for awhile now, and as stupid as Gallicano was, he wasn't foolish enough to spill his plans. Unless of course there was some sort of mole involved.
The whole mess of it made his head throb angrily. The list of people he thought through in his head ran pitifully short. Thought of Bianca, thought of Uriele, thought of every colleague and companion he'd ever met.
Adrione lifted his head and gave Noah a wry smile. "Sorry. There's no one that loves me quite that much."
At that, it also made him wonder about Noah. If Noah was an immortal as well, that had to mean that someone had sacrificed for him too. As strange as all of this was, the man in front of him remained the most mysterious thing here. The look that Adrione had seen earlier, the one that made Noah seem older beyond his years suddenly made pressing sense. How long exactly had this man been alive, so to speak?
Adrione shifted his weight and watched Noah carefully, watched his dramatic spiel with wary interest. There was still a part of him that didn't want to believe this was the truth. Perhaps it was some sort of very creative, realistic nightmare. He wanted that to be it, he wanted that so badly. How terrible a life to lead, to never be able to pay ones dues. Adrione didn't exactly have a choice anymore.
Noah did say he'd recover any wound, a theory which he wanted to test as soon as possible. Just to be sure, to give him even an inkling of peace of mind, as much as one could have in this situation. With the monologue over, Adrione raked his hands through his messy hair, frowning deeply at the ground by his feet. He could somewhat accept that he was no longer human, but to be suddenly brought into this Order? He wasn't so sure about that idea.
"I...I have no way of knowing you're telling the truth, yet you don't seem like you're lying," he began, huffing out a harsh breath. It was true. The energy that seemed to come off Noah felt very genuine, if he could even call it that. It was still very odd. "You also seem like you've done this a lot, of which I can only hope doesn't mean this is a strange variety of scam."
He pushed off of the wall and stepped closer to Noah, looking him over to once more size him up. There really was no visual evidence that he was anything but normal, and that aggravated Adrione beyond belief. Plus, Noah didn't quite look like he was about to rob him either- not that he had anything of offer to give, considering he literally only had the clothes on his back. Dirty, bloodied clothes, that is.
"I suppose I don't have a choice, though I'd quite like you to prove this to me in some way. I know that sounds foolish, considering what's happened to me, and I do quite believe you, but I just want to be absolutely sure," Adrione went on, tone matter of fact. "I don't know much of this...Order of Aeon either. What exactly do you mean by turn?"
He started to realize this was a lot of questions, and a significant lack of faith in the man, so he took a step back. At the very least he would keep the personal questions for later. "As much as I want to hear everything, I'd also like to change out of these clothes."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Aug 14, 2018 21:22:30 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M. Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
It was a sad admission, hearing from the other man that he didn't have anybody who loved him enough to make this sacrifice for him. It was something that was grim and true, enough to wipe even the barest hints of a smile from his face. It was a harsh sentiment to swallow for anybody, much less somebody who had come back from the dead.
Worrying his lower lip in thought, he fixed the other man with a look as he tried to decipher him. To figure out where to go from here. Noah was said to be a tactful man. It wasn't only from the countless years he lived, it was just a title he seemed to bear no matter the century, once a leader and then a diplomat. He had done it all and yet he wasn't sure he had anything clever or witty to say in response to the other man's statement. The wry smile only made it seem all the more self-depreciating like that of a man who had found himself caught in a trap with his back to the walls.
In the end all he could settle on was a somber look of understanding. Though to imagine he would have to draw parallels with a being so young... It struck him as a surprise. "Well then, let's hope if they're an enemy, they don't go looking for you," he decided to settle on, shifting away from the other.
He was the last person the other man probably wanted comfort from. The other man bore an air of no-nonsense about him, something that implied he didn't trust easily. It was something that more than likely went hand in hand with his profession. One that was not going to be missed, so something of the criminal variety. Nobody so much as batted an eye when the low lives of society died. "Good riddance", they would say, "finally they're gone." As if the sun would shine again now that they were dead and gone. As if they hadn't once been people. Or maybe the other man truly was just down and out of his luck, but he was comically built for a man who did something like print newspapers or make shoes.
Not to mention he was composed. He didn't seem bothered at all, in some he would say it was shock, in others he would say it was a deluded sense of belief. In his companion, it seemed to be an earned trait that came with time and practice. He was all too used to being in danger. That had to be one of the reasons why he had yet to give Noah his name. He didn't trust Noah. He didn't give, he took so he would have an advantage. And that was fine. He needed one; he deserved it.
It was good that they didn't linger on that conversation topic for far too long. Noah was nothing more than a stranger with answers, not a good friend or acquaintance. His words would sound hollow, fake and polite only for the sake of being polite. So instead he hopped on the opportunity to answer the young immortal's questions immediately.
This was the first time that somebody had ever tried to call his 'sales pitch' a "strange variety of a scam" and it amused him to some degree. He smiled, but let the other man continue. When the man pushed off the wall and decided to close in on Noah, Noah stood his ground and cocked his head in interest as he eyed the other man with something akin to amusement rather than caution. Now that he was this close, Noah could see how much taller the man was.
At the bar with his broad shoulders and built frame that looked all too large for the bar stool he had been seated on he had already seemed like a man who was best left alone, but now that they were this close he exuded an aura of a man who would not be disturbed. In any other situation, Noah would have taken it as a challenge. He wouldn't engage - he never did. In this situation, it only seemed like the man wanted to study him. Had he been looking for a fight, the second he rounded the corner, he would have thrown a punch. At least, that was following the assumption that he was a smart man.
Evidence. Yes, that was right. The other man would need evidence to back his claim.
"Well," Noah said as he casually rolled up his sleeves, "I hope you don't mind a rather mild display. Though I've grown quite use to the pain of a fatal injury it's still unpleasant." He smiled wryly as he waved at Adrione. "So this will be a small demonstration of good will." Now that his left arm was fully exposed, he lifted his cane and unsheathed his blade. Grabbing the sword with his left hand, he dragged it along the blade tightening his grip around it. He didn't so much as flinch and when he pulled away the blade didn't have a speck of blood. His hand was already stitching itself up, the deep cut from the blade slowly disappearing at a rapid pace as he held out the stingy hand for Adrione to see. "I mean, if you'd like an actual display of how a fatal wound can't kill our kind, I could demonstrate that as well but as I said, I'm not fond of the experience." His smile was more grim this time around.
Though he had offered no reaction to the sting of the knife cutting his flesh, it was still there, a small throbbing sensation that faded as the seconds ticked down. It wasn't something he hoped the other immortal would have to grow used to, but some just found themselves in harm's way more than others. He was a perfect example of one of them.
He was born and groomed a fighter, he had learned the intricacies of a sword since his youth. He had tasted blood on his lips, he had fought on countless battlefields before the day of his death, and he had known death so well he would dare call it an old friend. One that he would never be able to meet in an intimate manner. Even his abilities, one that could be utilized for a life of riches in isolation, turned into one of violence and retaliation. He didn't use his gift as a stepping stone for profit and money, he utilized it as a weapon. And this man? This man in front of him seemed destined for very much the same.
Sheathing his sword, he looked up at the other man in order to make eye contact before speaking. "I hope you know somebody in this area to find you a change of clothes because as willing as I am to lend you mines, I don't think that would work." He smiled cheekily, the image of the other man in Noah's attire far too amusing not to. "So if you would please lead the way, I'll be right beside you. And in the meantime, I'll explain the intricacies." He waved a hand for the other man to lead the way. He didn't really have time to come into contact with the other members of the Order stationed here, so it was up to either him or the other man to find him something to change into.
That wouldn't have been a problem if it wasn't night time and his companion wasn't both a giant and covered in blood.
Sighing, he decided to continue on telling the young immortal what he knew. "Well, if you recall earlier, I did mention we were demon hunters. Though we can't die through normal means, it is possible for us to turn. We call them the dark ones, corrupted by the things we hunt. They're immortals without conscience and morality, but they fully comprehend what they're doing. Their soul is just astray, lost, blackened and damned."
He swung his cane carelessly as he walked, keeping pace with the other man despite his longer strides. "That said, you're fairly young. A demon tracking down the dark magic that still hangs heavy around you will find you with ease and you'll be easy pickings," he spared the other man a glance to see what his expression was and how he was taking in all of this. "That or a dark one looking for blood."
"As much as I'd like to allow you to continue with your every day life like nothing ever happened, you're not safe here anymore." He said his next words with heavy consideration, "You crossed from your world into ours. Whereas the supernatural existed but didn't bother you in the past, you are an immortal now. Nothing will ever be the same."
"I know you don't trust me, but I'm here to protect you." He punctuated his words by lifting his cane to point at the young immortal when he said 'you'. "And that's the truth."
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Post by The Blue Adept on Aug 29, 2018 2:08:06 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
It was almost jarring how willing Noah was to answer his questions- Adrione was far too used to people bullsh*tting him. He wasn't complaining, no, but he certainly was surprised. It was only hours ago that he'd been convinced he'd be in the dark forever, and Noah was telling him everything like it was nothing, like the information wasn't absolutely changing his life, or lack thereof.
As well as he was taking it, Adrione was starting to have a hard time keeping up. Usually people don't tell you these kinds of things in such rapid succession. Lucky for him he'd have a lifetime- and more- to process it all. By the sound of things surely he'd have plenty of opportunity to experience all the things Noah was mentioning in person.
The physical evidence though...he had to admit it was compelling. He watched in silent awe, unflinching as the blade bit into Noah's skin and disappeared without a trace, as if it had never happened at all. There was really nothing more telling than that. Noah was telling the truth. He stared for a few more seconds, as if perhaps the wound would reappear in a few seconds, truly just some sort of trick, but it never came. Adrione shook his head. "That's alright, seeing this was quite enough. And I think I've been through enough fatal experiences this week," he commented, taking a step back.
"It doesn't hurt?" he asked tentatively, noticing the lack of reaction on Noah's face. It was hard to tell whether or not there was no pain or Noah had simply become too accustomed to the act, as Adrione had no way of knowing just how old this man really was. He was far too used to expecting something at the cut of a blade, whether it be on himself or another. That was partially the doctor in him talking and partly the criminal. As if him caring would matter anyway, since the wound had already ceased to exist.
Adrione couldn't keep himself from meeting Noah's eyes for just a moment, brow now furrowed with concern rather than confusion. Just how long would one have to be alive where they felt not a thing to a slice of the open palm? That blade looked deadly sharp, too. Not to mention the all too casual comment of a fatal demonstration as if it were some kind of show attraction. Adrione could resign himself to that fate, he just couldn't imagine anyone else suffering through that.
Already it was becoming increasingly difficult to figure Noah out. Adrione was far too used to getting extremely good reads on people, even if he'd only known them for all of five minutes, like in this case. With Noah he was just coming up short. It was both frustrating and interesting, as if Noah's existence simply posed a challenge, one that he was more than ready to take on.
"Don't worry, I wasn't expecting your coat. It's a little small for me, I'd think," he said as he turned to exit the alley, voice laced with just a hint of amusement. He still didn't trust Noah, as much as he trusted his words, so he was glad to be the one leading the way this time. The town they were in now was within Dal Porto territory- there were more than a few business here that lay under his family's protection, so he was comfortable walking the streets without needing to give an explanation to passerby as to his appearance. They knew better than to ask, really.
Adrione listened carefully to Noah's explanation as they walked, tucking his hands into his pockets. Naturally everything related to the supernatural sounded quite far-fetched to him, but he was trying to accept it properly, especially now as he was not given another choice. The Order of Aeon remained a deep mystery to him, even as Noah explained. He just wasn't sure what he pictured in his head, the only thing he could chalk them up to were exorcists, but demon hunters seemed like a rather informal and unholy term. Plus he was fairly certain the Vatican had nothing to do with dark energies or anything of the sort.
And well, in this case, everything Noah was saying was directly important to his current situation, and the man clearly had the experience to back it up. He had said Adrione was 'fairly young'- of which made him want to laugh, even as he knew it was referring to his fresh immortalhood. Whatever turning really was, he wanted no part of it. He didn't quite want to see a demon in person either, though it looked like that would be inevitable given the fact that he was supposedly a demon hunter now- he hadn't missed Noah saying 'we' more than once.
"It's still a bit...hard to grasp," he sighed, pausing his stride to peek around at the buildings on the street he'd turned down, glad to see the place he was looking for still had a light on, whether it was actually open or not. It was a tailor shop, one he knew quite well as it'd been under his family's protection for years due to the shop owner- Ciro Viano- being a dedicated informant. A lot of things happened in these market streets that were more than relevant to his sister's interests.
Pushing his way through the front door, glancing back momentarily just to make sure Noah was following him, he stepped inside and looked around. The shop was lined with shelves and racks of clothing and various other wearable items, looking like they'd all been neatly organized at the end of the day. The man in question though was not around, the clerk's area left empty. Unlike the bar, the room felt empty despite all of its contents. Adrione continued on their conversation without pause. "I hope you don't mind me being skeptical until I see everything for myself," he added as he approached the desk. "Though I have to say, dead folk like us having souls sounds the least plausible at the moment."
He craned his neck to peek into the backroom, seeing nothing but hearing a faint rustling. "Viano-" he called out, and within moments a small figure poked their head out of the doorway, eyes wide.
"Adrione!" Ciro greeted with a big smile, moving his way through to the front, squeezing past big bolts of fabric that'd he'd been going through. The jovial expression on his faced quickly switched to one of surprise. "Jesus Mary and Joseph- what the hell happened to you?" he gawked, gesturing wildly to Adrione's bedraggled appearance. "Tell me that blood isn't yours-"
The lie formed on his lips easily. Adrione raised a dismissive hand. "Don't worry, it's not. But I have somewhere to be very soon and I can't go out like this. Will you do me a favor?" His voice was kind but held an edge of forcefulness to it- this was not a question, but a request. Adrione didn't exercise his power often and certainly not on folks like Ciro, but he didn't quite have the time or the patience to have Ciro sell him something right now. In comparison to Noah, Ciro was far less interesting in terms of the strange things he'd been sensing. Whatever the man gave off, it was almost boring, despite years of putting up with the man's personality to prove otherwise.
The man nodded quickly, rubbing his mustache with one hand in thought. "Of course of course, I think I have something that should fit you already," he agreed, waving Adrione over as he disappeared among the racks of clothes.
Adrione flicked a glance over his shoulder again at Noah, hoping his expression clearly read as stay put while he followed after the tailor. Despite the interruption, he carried on with their conversation as if nothing had happened. He had no fears about Ciro overhearing, the man was smart enough to know what information to retain, and what to forget immediately. This night would not be remembered.
"It's funny that you mention my every day life as if it were a great loss. Surely you must suspect that I'm not the most cherished man, Mr. Wright," he commented from behind a rack of clothes as Ciro picked through the contents in search of something that would fit his large frame. "Yes, this turn of events is one to make me unsafe. A very new experience for me."
Adrione passed through the aisles of clothes in various stages of undress, once to tug on clean trousers and twice to button up a new shirt, passing by Noah like it didn't mean a thing. He carried on the conversation all the while, stopping once to give Noah and incredulous look as he pulled his arm through a sleeve. "Here to protect me, huh? Well, I'd love to see that happen," he scoffed, his abundance of cold sarcasm a symptom of his lack of trust in the man. It would ebb with time, probably.
Finally he emerged again, this time dressed proper. The bloody clothes has been ditched for a well-pressed outfit, with a coat added as a forethought- Adrione took into account they likely wouldn't be in Sicily for much longer, and he'd have to brave different weather. With a final brush of his hands through his hair he was satisfied, and turned to clap Ciro on the shoulder. "If you need anything, tell Astrid I say we owe," he nodded, and the tailor beamed, shaking Adrione's hand with vigor. The point of contact felt too strange, and Adrione nearly jerked his hand away in surprise.
"Yes! Thank you very much as always, Adrione."
It was interesting how much clean clothes could do for a man's confidence. Adrione had been shot in the head recently, yes, turned immortal yes, but he looked about ready to hunt a demon at a moments notice. Didn't know how, no, but ready. Adjusting the cuffs of his coat, Adrione turned to Noah, gesturing for them to walk back out. "You will tell me about the Order of Aeon, yes? as it appears I'll be at their mercy very soon. And I can't really say I know much, if anything at all."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Aug 31, 2018 3:36:42 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M. Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
At the very least, the young immortal wasn't a terribly insensitive individual. He seemed to be more cautious than others before him, but he wasn't especially pushy about the demonstrations. He wasn't lost in denial to the point where nothing short of a fatal injury would shock him into acceptance at the brutal reality. If Noah was to be quite honest, the composed nature in which the other man was taking in everything was impressive. It reminded him of the steadfast nature of the knights who stood and fought at his side. Noble and dependable.
He smiled slightly at the thought. He took great pride in being known as Midas within The Order. It was both a nod towards his gift and his ability in recognizing exceptional talent when he saw it. And he was confident that this man would become a great hunter. The subtleties in the way he held himself and the level headedness he demonstrated was a trait that was hard to come by.
Many individuals thought just because the Order as a whole took on the title of 'demon hunters' that it was an all encompassing job. The truth was a little bit more complicated. Everyone who had survived up until this point without turning into a Dark One was more or less capable of handling a demon. It was something that all immortals had to learn regardless of what they decided to do.
There was nothing more dangerous to the state of affairs then a vulnerable immortal.
Raising an eyebrow in surprise at the other man's question, he chuckled slightly. His expression was something to behold. The concern in his eyes came as a surprise more than anything, usually when it came to more nefarious subjects such as the very existence of immortals, there was more scorn than anything. Unless, of course, they came to need a very particular set of skills that only a demon hunter such as himself could offer. The amount of compassion was something else and it made him doubt himself for a moment. He was starting to fear if he would be able to watch the young immortal move on into whatever he wanted to do whether it was becoming a scholar, a demon hunter, or just settling in the middle of nowhere with his soul bond.
It was the first time he had contemplated such a matter and to some degree, Noah found it terrifying that he even thought of it at all. But he had always been an exceptional liar and an even better actor.
"It stings," he said even as he glanced at the other man, warm brown eyes glittering in amusement, "It hurts just about as much as it would if you cut yourself straight to the bone with a blade. We feel the pain of injury, but with time it becomes familiar." And he had nothing but an abundance of time.
Those were grim words to say to the young immortal and he mentally chastised himself for it, but there was a lull of safety that the other man gave off. He felt like someone who could listen for hours on end without saying a word, the kind of individual that was dependable in a way few could lay claim to. He was curious about the other man, but respectful enough not to pry into matters that would eventually be out of his hands. If the other man decided to become a scholar, he would follow in Hashmi's footsteps. She believed that knowledge was the order's greatest weapon. And perhaps, one day maybe there would be a way to save the Dark Ones.
Or if he chose to become a hunter once he found his soul bond, then that would be that. He would teach him how to master his gift and he would watch him go on to do greater things. Or succumb to darkness and eventually become a threat. Whatever it was, it wouldn't involve him for long so trying to learn more about the other wasn't as useful as preparing him for combat when and if the demons found themselves at his doorstep.
"You won't know unless you try," Noah shot back easily, the teasing note in his voice carrying through. It was strange though, the simple camaraderie.
He didn't remember sharing this familiarity with anyone in decades.
Still though, there was a lot for the other man to take note of. It was a harsh awakening for someone so newly turned, but there was no easy way to go about it. If there was a condensed version that was comprehensive, he would have started with that. But there wasn't. So he waited, patiently following behind the young immortal, easily falling in line with him but always a step behind to give him confidence and control in a situation that was out of his control.
He smiled slightly. Of all the things that would cause the young immortal the most griefs it was the concept of them possessing a soul. It was amusing, if not a rather sad notion. "Oh, I understand," his words were gentle which was something rare for Noah. He preferred to always hold an edge on others' with sharp wittiness, steadfast firmness, or irrefutable reason. But it was a jarring transition from being alive to suddenly dead and then... alive again but... less.
"I'd be concerned if you weren't skeptical if I'm to be honest," he laughed though he didn't find it very funny. "It's a lot to take in and a very harsh reality for most. Though I have to ask."
His eyes followed the other man as he approached the desk, clearly looking for someone. He didn't ask, but he was starting to think he would find out more things about his companion very soon. "What constitutes as a soul?" To the order, souls were tangible things without physical bodies. They didn't cease to exist when a person did. They were immortal, they were the very core of an individual; the very essence of existence. The Dark Ones weren't mindless; they were soulless. They were capable of rational thought. That was why they were dangerous. They could do exactly what they were always capable of except now no social conventions or emotional attachments would weigh them down.
It was a heavy question. One that was rhetorical, that he wanted the other man to think about at the very least. Besides, they were no longer alone and as the young immortal called out to Viano he fell silent as he watched a smaller man appear. He wasn't sure if he was taller or about the same height as Viano or if he was even smaller than the shop keeper, but the way his companion loomed over the other without trying was comedic. So that was what it looked like when he was standing next to him.
And then, for the first time since they met, he finally had a name for the other man. Adrione. It was a good name, he decided, but he didn't attempt to test it out for himself. He remained detached from the situation, quiet and uninvolved from his position by the door. He leaned against the wooden pillar of the tailor shop, content with just taking in what little information he was being offered.
It became very apparent to him that Adrione exercised command naturally. He wasn't a forceful man by nature, but when it was required of him he fell into it like second nature. His initial read that the younger immortal wasn't a simple man was further exemplified which made him interesting. The look Adrione sent him once Viano started moving about the shop with Adrione in tow was amusing to say the least, but Noah decided to oblige despite responding with a lazy shrug before shifting his footing slightly and loosening his grip on the cane so that he was in a more lax position.
Clearly Adrione was confident about his authority in the situation because the conversation continued as if Viano's presence wouldn't make a difference.
Mister Wright. Adrione's voice had a very calming quality to it, it was just pleasant to Noah, but the seconds those words left his lips the entire sentence seemed jarring. It was strange in a way Noah couldn't quite explain but it was something that he didn't like. It was, of course, no fault on Adrione's behalf but he couldn't help the bitterness in his smile even as he corrected the other man lightly before matching him sentence for sentence.
"Sir Noah, actually," his tone of voice was deceptively light.
He didn't elaborate on the correction, instead choosing to watch Adrione with interest as he tilted his head to a side as the other man casually undressed. It didn't bother him nor did he find it particularly strange, but it was a thing of curiosity. Modesty seemed to be much more common nowadays and eventually he lowered his head, restraining an amused smile. "Perhaps you weren't. Perhaps you aren't cherished, so what of it? There must have been things you liked doing. A routine you had. Daily rituals, as simplistic and as foolish as they may seem, are the building blocks of every individual's life. And all that is about to change against your will, so of course I think it's worth lamenting."
"Don't you?" He took no offense at Adrione's lack of faith and biting words. He knew he didn't look like much. It was one of his greatest assets. He wasn't a very tall or intimidating man and his mannerisms unassuming. He took pride in that, actually. It was the unpredictability that he cherished, the ability to make others doubt themselves and realize they had been wrong. He couldn't help the cheshire cat grin that crossed his face as he huffed in laughter. "Trust me, Adrione," there was something worth being smug about being able to utilize the other man's name now that he knew it, "You'd be surprised to find out that if you were on an opposing side from me you would do well to flee."
How it had devolved to them trying to assert their own dominance in the situation was lost to him. How he had fallen prey to it was not. If Adrione had been someone who wouldn't meet him ever again, he wouldn't have responded to the fighting words, but Adrione was - as far as technicalities went - under his protection.
He found himself slightly peeved with the other man, but as he emerged completely free of the bloodstained clothes and looking more put together Noah found himself thinking only one thing: At least he's handsome. So be it, if that was the only saving grace he would have in this situation, he would take it. He noted the mention of Astrid and the mention of favors at the back of his mind. He was starting to believe he wouldn't have much to be surprised about if he found out later on that Adrione was involved with the more unsavory kind of people. It wasn't the first time they'd have the criminal sort in The Order. And Adrione wore it well.
Pushing against the wall, he straightened up as Adrione neared him and headed to the door. "I'll tell you whatever you would like to know," he promised. It was the least he could do for a young immortal. "But we'd do well to head back to the docks. There's a boat waiting to take us back to England where the current Council members are housed. So, shall we be on our way?"
"Would you prefer to go on-foot or by carriage?"
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Post by The Blue Adept on Sept 1, 2018 1:07:43 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
Truly Adrione wasn't sure why he had been concerned for Noah at all at the demonstration- initially he'd chalked it up as a doctor's instinct, but even now as Noah confessed to him he'd felt it all, he couldn't help but feel a twinge in his chest. It didn't bode well to care much about strangers. Though in this case, it didn't seem like Noah would be a stranger for very long.
Adrione still couldn't imagine how long it took for Noah to be so comfortable slicing his hand with no hesitation, much less offering a fatal demonstration. He thought about asking the man's age briefly, but wondered if that was somehow a rude thing to ask an immortal. He was juss grateful that the topic of conversation strayed quickly.
Noah's question grabbed his attention, and he mulled it over all throughout his exchange with Viano, lost in thought as he spouted his sarcastic replies back and forth. What did constitute a soul? He found himself unable to answer. His religious upbringing told him one thing, but his current predicament told him another. The soul was supposed to encompass a person, house their personality, their memories- the body was just a vessel. If he were to believe that truth then it also meant that even the most inhuman of monsters could have a soul too. He was a living example, after all.
There was a lot for him to learn, that was for certain. How much was fairy tale and myth and how much was real? Clearly they'd gotten some things wrong, as he hardly felt any different than he had before a bullet crossed through his brain.
Though, he supposed that wasn't necessarily true either. He'd been feeling nothing but strange things since he awoke, things that only cemented his belief that he was no longer human, or at least an abnormality. The fear he'd seen in Gallicano's eyes when he shot him dead was palpable, more so in a way he would use even metaphorically. The air in the bar, so stuffed and heavy despite all of its empty seats. And even now, standing with Noah, feeling a strange sense of comfort with a total stranger. It just didn't seem right.
Surely it was something immortal related and he found himself a breath away from asking, but hesitated. Asking so many questions, giving away his insecurities: they were all weaknesses, and even if he felt comfortable next to Noah against his will, he wouldn't let himself be vulnerable.
He held the questions in his head, replying to Noah mindlessly. "Ah, un cavaliere? Impressive," he commented, unsure of the usefulness of the information based on Noah's correction. Noah hadn't talked much about himself this entire time, so Adrione was keen on absorbing everything he could, if to at least piece together a proper image of the man.
It seemed that Noah was educated, quick-witted, had a decent sense of humor to boot even if it was borderline annoying. He certainly gave off a confident air, which paired well with the tone of experience in his voice. If Noah truly was a demon hunter, Adrione had to bet he was a veteran of some kind, no matter how old the man turned out to actually be. And then there were the strange feelings he gave off, the comforting ones that made Adrione feel like his mind was deceiving him.
When Noah talked, it seemed almost as if something would follow his words, like a blip in the surrounding energy. It was only instinct, or perhaps a desperate attempt at making sense of it all he simply made some sh*t up, that he associated these strange occurrences with emotions. Noah's tone was light with his correction, but whatever came out with it was...sad. Dark. It was conflicting, as Adrione would've believed the man right away had he not felt that something extra.
It radiated off of Viano too, though far more unclear, almost erratically so. It seemed as if whatever came out shifted with every word- evasive. Considering the man's occupation, it made a bit of sense. Viano did well to cover himself up when dealing with criminals.
He was grateful when Noah's statements gave him something else to think about. Adrione failed to bite back another wry grin at the thought, as if any of this happening would drastically change his life aside from being immortal, of course. Just who did Noah make him out to be? No, Adrione hadn't existed with much of a schedule for quite some time now. Everything in his life was at risk of disappearing at any moment, so he never bothered to get too comfortable in any one place or with any particular people aside from family. It was not only insurance to keep himself from hurting come things going awry, but because half of the people he interacted with made him want to throttle the life out of them anyways.
Just as he was buttoning his coat, he faltered. He wasn't concerned that Noah knew his name, no, but the ease of which the man said it made him feel strange. Spoken like that of an old friend, spoken with some sort of warmth that almost felting scorching in its intensity. His mother had always said that names had power, but surely she didn't mean it like this. Straightening, he frowned for a moment, testing the way Noah's name felt on his lips, finding himself unable to say it as if it were a curse.
Adrione was almost too hasty as he led Noah out the door, feeling grateful for the cool night air on his face. "Inghilterra, of course. I suppose I haven't been in quite some time," he sighed, shaking his head lightly. He should've expected it's location considering Noah's accent, after all. The nostalgia of the place almost kept him from being apprehensive at the thought of facing an entire council of immortals who clearly had a powerful reputation. He was no stranger to appearing before powerful people, just not of this sort. He didn't think they were the type to be easily swayed nor intimidated, if it had to go that way.
He nodded. "Carriage, please. I believe I've done enough walking for a good while. Besides, not everyone we pass on the streets are as...cooperative as my tailor friend." The Dal Porto's were prominent in this town, but not everyone was privy to keeping their mouths shut. People liked to gossip if he didn't get to them first.
This time he was willing to let Noah lead the way, comfortable to stand around asking him more questions. "Is there any particular reason that immortals are demon hunters, or vice versa? I'll admit, I didn't think there were enough demons in the world to warrant such a group, though clearly It seems I don't know as much about them as I thought I did," he began, once again reminded of the encounter from his past when he saw the pin.
He gestured to it now, tilting his head slightly at it now that he could see it more in person. There was no mistaking the relation. "I've seen the symbol before, only once. Really, it's the only reason I believe you about your claims of demon hunters. Are you not exorcists of a sort?"
This time the memory brought up a bad taste in his mouth. He thought of the innocent possessed girl, the sound of her parents cries to find her dead. Would he have to do that? Off someone, if to at least be merciful to their suffering? He'd done it before, but it never got easy. Now he'd have to do it forever.
It became just another question in his mind, the list starting to build to an alarming degree. He glanced down at his hand now, the pressing questions from before practically screaming to get out. When he'd grabbed Viano's shoulder he felt like he'd been shocked, but he distinctly recalled not feeling the warmth of a human body under his fingertips. Was that normal? It didn't seem so. Even without blood in his veins he was speaking, thinking, feeling something, it didn't make sense for him to lose touch.
His gaze traveled back over to Noah, and in a moment of impuslivity, he grabbed the man's shoulder. "Thank you, for answering my questions, by the way," he said, as if to distract the man from the random touch.
And this touch, oh it was different. If touching Viano felt like being shocked, touching Noah felt like he'd set his own hands ablaze, as Noah were a red hot iron. Not only did he feel the sensation of grabbing a living being, he felt...everything. All at once, so much that it physically overwhelmed him. His hand lingered for a moment, half out of shock, half out of a simple inability to let go as his arm went from on fire to numb to warm once more. When he finally pulled away, he stared at his hand with a deepening frown. Well, clearly the thing with Viano was a fluke.
And then he was hit with a wave of nausea, nearly stumbling. His mind buzzed so loudly he almost couldn't hear himself speak. He couldn't stop himself from asking now, if at least out of simple desperation to make sense of what was going on inside his head as it had quickly gone from strange to making him feel like he was actually drowning. "Noah.....am I hallucinating or is this some sort of immortal ailment?" he fumbled, hand still held awkwardly in the air like it no longer belonged to his body. The man's name slipped out, less like a curse now and more like an anchor to reality.
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Sept 2, 2018 1:21:59 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M. Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
It had been ages since he'd last revealed that he was a knight to anybody. It had slipped across easily without him taking any notice of it. It wasn't so much a slip up as it was just something he never enforced or saw fit to press onto those who he came to help out. During his time in the Order, he utilized the name Midas in most circles. It became a title with as much pull as the legend itself, a myth reborn if one would. Giving Adrione his name had been something he did as a show of good will, though he had anticipated Adrione to refer to him by Noah or Wright, not with the same formality that Abraham had.
At the very least, the correction didn't seem to make Adrione peeved at him. Instead, the other man complimented it and to be fair - it was something impressive - he couldn't help but smile.
Still. Mister Wright had been Abraham's words, teasing and warm. As the years slipped by him, no matter how much he tried to cling to memory of Abraham's kindness and the light that had festered in his soul, he found that he was starting to forget the laugh lines Abe had. He couldn't remember his voice, but he could remember the infliction in the way Abe said his name. And that name belonged to Abraham. The only thing that he wouldn't - couldn't - forget.
A heaviness shrouded his heart and he was reminded of how hard it had been. He remembered Elijah though. He remembered standing by the door as Eli, old and frail - sick and dying - surrounded by his own family took his last breath. And Noah had been there, in a room of his grandchildren and great grandchildren, unmoved by time. He had been gone before they had noticed that he was there, but Eli was attentive as ever and for the briefest of moments their eyes had met before Eli's body had gone still. He could never lay claim to the family that Eli had fostered. They deserved a life without him. A life that wouldn't leave them in constant danger because they knew him. And perhaps, though he would never admit it, he left because he was selfish and scared. Because he didn't want to watch them grow old and die without him.
However, as quickly as it had came, he snuffed the grim thoughts before they could suffocate him. After all, he had a job to do.
He didn't look back at Adrione though knowing that if he did before his thoughts were under control, the pain would be evident in his eyes. When Adrione spoke though, he glanced curiously back certain that his mask was back in place. He made no comment on Adrione's words, hesitant at the other man's words. It was hard to place what the response meant so he held his tongue. He nodded briskly though once Adrione announced his favored form of transportation. On one hand, walking was a quiet affair with many chances to learn about the other. It would extend their journey slightly. On the other, riding on the carriage would shorten the time he would have to spend with the younger immortal and he could go back to his preferred duty.
"Cooperative, hm?" He repeated, taking note of the way Adrione said the words. If he had any doubts about Adrione being involved in less than savory affairs earlier it was gone by now. "Well then I guess we would do well to facilitate matters to be easy for you which in turns makes them easier for me," he said cheerily as he headed off to secure them a ride.
Of course, as they ambled along, Adrione had no shortage of questions. It was actually impressive at how quickly he had taken to the situation, processed the information, and began to seek out more answers. He tilted his head in interest as he listened and waited for Adrione to finish his train of thought before contemplating the question for himself. That was an interesting question if he were to be honest. One that Noah wasn't quite certain of the answer but vaguely familiar with. And the second statement regarding exorcists- oh that one was rich.
"Is there a correlation?" He repeated the question rhetorically, furrowing his brows in thought. "I believe so. The Order itself has been around long before I was. What I know as facts are that demons used to hunt us, not the other way around. The creation of Immortals draw from the same dark energies that demons utilize."
"Consuming our souls offer them more benefits than consuming those of mortals. And demons? There's a power struggle down there. Always one trying to be stronger than the other. I can only imagine how their politics must be like," he scoffed, smiling without humor. "But when The Elders started digging into the roots of how they even came to be, they found information on not only how we were made but how to kill demons. So I suppose the true reason we hunt them is to keep them from hunting us. It's nothing so grand as a holier than thou crusade."
"It's just survival."
He glanced at Adrione to check if he was still keeping up with the flow of information as he climbed onto the carriage. He continued speaking once Adrione was situated and the horse drawn carriage started to move with a jarring lurch. "And on that note, we're not exorcists. We don't save mortal souls from demons. We vanquish the demons but the souls? Those are... gone. You can't cast out demons. You can't save someone once they turn, you can only keep it from happening and that's what we do."
"The soulless are damned. They end up in purgatory with no way out. No salvation. No eternal damnation." The carriage rolled over a sizable bump and though he was jostled, he didn't even blink. "What we do we do to keep something worse from happening. I'll be honest with you. They gain traction with every day. Demons from hell are finding ways to bridge the gap from damnation into our world. They're finding hosts and consuming souls and though we kill many, we don't know what they're using them for. What their goal is."
![](https://i.imgur.com/MoYqDlg.gif) "Which means the only way we can prevent whatever they're doing is to do what we can. Stop them in their tracks, protect young immortals like you, and kill those that we do come across," he said with a shrug. "Though not all of us like killing even if it something like a demon."
"There are those who find their place in the order as informants. As researchers and scholars. As strategists. But regardless of what you choose, we'll have to teach you to protect yourself," he appraised Adrione carefully with a hint of amusement, "Though I think you'll catch on quickly." He was certain.
As he finished answering Adrione's questions, he settled back against the side of the carriage and looked outside at the busy streets. The foul smell of the streets gave way to hints of the salty tang of the ocean and he could see in the distance the blue of the sea.
Adrione's thank you came as a surprise and he smiled slightly, but what came next was an even greater surprise.
Noah wasn't one to mind a careless touch or interaction without prior warning. It wasn't like he could die from that sort of action. It had became something he no longer worried about. But that moment when Adrione's hand tightened around his shoulder he swore to god he forgot to breathe for a moment even though he didn't need to. It was a shock to his system. It was hot - like fire - and he almost expected the pain to come. He tensed slightly underneath the touch, but didn't flinch or pull away in an obvious manner. The bumps of the carriage ride would conceal his response, he assured himself, even as he forced himself to relax.
He felt a heavy lump in his throat and he wondered why his eyes felt like they were burning. And when Adrione pulled away the weight in his chest did not lessen but he gave no outward response. Swallowing thickly, he continued to stare outside the window and wondered why his heart yearned for that feeling again.
Six hundred years. A part of his mind couldn't even begin to fathom. Six hundred years had came and gone and the familiarity of cold dead touches had became another constant in his life. 'About your soul bond-' The conversation never bore any fruition but now... now he knew why they looked at him with hidden concern in their eyes. He bit down on his tongue though, not saying anything regarding it. A part of him was suddenly overwhelmed with fear - an emotion he hadn't felt in ages. Maybe this was just a blip - an accident. It wasn't something he deserved to have and it would just as quick be taken away. Maybe he would voice his thoughts on the situation just to have it be wrong.
However, the second Adrione spoke he found that his wandering thoughts were once again grounded to reality and the gravity of the situation. Adrione's voice was shaky, a quality he had - despite their brief time together - not associate with the man. It was wrong in so many ways and he turned towards the other immediately, taking in Adrione's features and determining almost immediately something was wrong. Without a second thought, he grabbed Adrione's extended hand, offering his own hand for support. "What-" His voice wavered and he cleared his throat before repeating himself, "What are you experiencing, Adrione? Talk me through it."
He didn't miss the fact that Adrione had called him Noah. He didn't think twice about how right that had felt.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Sept 25, 2018 2:06:50 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
Adrione's instincts toiled within him as Noah grabbed his hand, his first desire to yank his hand away replaced with the desperate need to hold onto something. Noah's words from before echoed empty in his mind, replaced by the overwhelming flood of everything else. Adrione wasn't quite sure how to describe it, even as Noah attempted to coax an explanation out of him.
His mind began to drift as he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to let go and sever whatever link he'd established. He was caught up in memories that weren't his, seeing through someone else's eyes. They flickered before him in rapid succession, almost blindingly so. Faces, so many faces, so much blood and death and terror and fear. Loneliness and loss, they struck him so strong and deep the ache in his chest forced his eyes open, forced him to gasp for air.
Tears spilled from his eyes indiscriminately, and he could not stop them. "I- I feel-" he started, voice wavering, unsure. Words failed him as the foreign feelings pressed against his consciousness, unraveling and then tangling themselves together. His hand started to burn more painfully than before, and he finally managed to reluctantly pry his fingers from Noah's and tuck his hand hastily into his coat, protectively so. He felt it trembling where he held it close to his chest.
The emotions still swarmed him, but letting go gave him some some sense of relief, followed by a confusing sense of regret. As much as he wanted to shrink back into himself, it didn't seem to be working quite as well as he wanted it to. He simply shook his head in response, shifting in his seat as if he could escape the oppressive air around him. He forced the emotions away with as much strength as he could manage, his thoughts becoming his own once more. Wiping the tears from his face, he frowned and cleared his throat a bit. Suddenly he felt terribly exhausted. "I apologize, it just...seems that I might still be recovering," he said, voice steady again but quieter now. "I've been feeling an awful lot of strange things since. It appears to get worse when I touch things."
His headache had returned, more fierce than before. He bit down on his tongue and titled his head back against the back of the carriage behind him. Immortality seemed to be a lot more complicated and painful than the idealists presumed it to be. Adrione took Noah's explanations of the Order's inner workings as a gracious distraction, trying to ignore the pain in his head and the ache in his chest that had not seemed to subside. Each time he glanced at Noah it panged deeply.
The air felt painfully stuffy again, the carriage more cramped than it should've felt. He so badly wished to fling the door open and stick his head out, if at least to get some modicum of relief, even as the majority of the suffocating atmosphere had begun to pass. He'd shut himself off again from the stranger across from him, and yet there was something he was subconsciously holding onto that he couldn't let go of. It was starting to piss him off a little.
He couldn't even begin to feel embarrassed at sobbing in front of a practical stranger, not when Noah looked at him with such concern. His frown deepened and he turned his head to stare out the window instead, "I'd like to understand it, but I'd also prefer if you didn't worry about me." It seemed just a bit easier when he didn't have to look at him. Strangely, he seemed to believe Noah's words more than he had before. It was just a feeling in his gut that Noah was speaking the truth- as if somehow he already knew it.
Adrione wasn't too fond of the idea of hunting demons if it meant sacrificing the innocent human lives they had attached themselves to, even as he knew he had no choice on the matter. The concept of it was was just so counter-intuitive to everything he'd ever done. As much as he was alright with the idea of killing demons in theory, letting people die for it just didn't feel right. Noah had mentioned that there were other positions in the order, and he was sure he'd end up asking about them again as soon as he had the chance, even as he had almost made his mind up. He liked to think he had at least some options in all this.
At least he wouldn't have to bother Noah with them for long. Must've been nice having to fish fresh immortals out of the wild, drop them on the Order's doorstep and then get back to work. He considered himself lucky he'd have at least one ally there, even if he never saw Noah again, no matter how much the idea seemed to bother him. No, the man was good as a connection, it wouldn't do well for him to begin getting attached to people that could become corrupt, die in a way worse than true death, a concept he could hardly imagine. From what little Noah told him, it sounded truly horrifying.
"I'll admit, I'm not privy to sacrificing innocent human lives to get rid of demons," he began, his eyes pinned to the window as the scene outside the carriage raced by, "but, I don't quite think I am the person that could sit by and let them suffer either." He was no stranger to the idea of mercy, giving someone a quick death than prolong their suffering. Whether or not he was the one to kill the demon didn't change the fact that someone would die to it, and he supposed he'd feel a lot better taking those kinds of matters into his own hands rather than spending the rest of his immortal life picturing the sorrow than ending it himself.
It was a means to an end, he supposed. The lesser of two evils. Demons could not run amok, that was simple fact. It was daunting the idea of being dragged into all this, dragged into something the church put the fear of God into you for even thinking too hard about. Demons were not the concerns of mortals- prayer was all you had, and God's grace. Adrione had never been strict of a believer in any of it, and even less so now. No, maybe demons were not the concerns of mortals, but they certainly were for immortals by the sound of it. Clearly loving God had never been enough for anybody to fight such manifestations of evil.
"What about you? How did you become a demon hunter?" Adrione asked, as if somehow trying to change the subject. His curiosity about the Order lingered, though he preferred to wait until he could see everything in person. And the fact that he felt too exhausted to speak, as if the incident had drained all of his energy. Besides, Noah was still a stranger to him, all he had to match this face was a name and a rumor, it wasn't a crime to want to know more. In his lifetime he knew that information was a currency that held the most worth in this world.
His eyes flickered over to meet Noah's once more, and he found himself regretting it. Something about the question, something about Noah just made his heart twist and wrench painfully. Adrione felt sad, as if he already knew the answer would be quite depressing. He supposed that Noah did have to die to become like this too, it was just hard not to picture how. His imagination seemed all too real at the moment- especially with the amount of death he'd just...hallucinated, a clean slice to the neck didn't seem too far out of the ordinary for what could've happened to him.
"If you don't mind me asking, that is," he added, quickly turning his gaze away. It was bad to make assumptions, he'd just let the man answer. He kept his hands tucked into his coat, shoulder pressed to the side of the carriage as if he could force himself out the window if he thought about it hard enough. "The Order is a very big mystery, as are you. You are a very curious individual- you don't seem to want to mention yourself very much."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Sept 29, 2018 0:26:08 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M. Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
He knew almost immediately that something was wrong with Adrione. He wasn't sure as to what it was, but he had a strong sneaking suspicion it was somehow relevant as to Adrione's gift whatever that might be. It shocked him how Adrione's hand shook in his hold, clearly going through some harrowing experience that Noah was helpless to aid. It made him swallow thickly, wondering why he was so useless to help the man who was the other half of his soul bond. The warmth of the other man's hand overwhelmed anything else. The touch was all the confirmation he had and needed.
As he looked up at Adrione, searching the other man's eyes for some sort of indication as to what was wrong, he found nothing especially telling or helpful to their situation. He was frustrated as tears fell from Adrione's eyes, voice wavering clearly hoping for some sort of explanation that Noah was unable to procure. Every gift was different. Every gift always seemed malicious, like a curse, until they accepted it. The number of people he had never wanted to hurt that died at his touch would forever remind him of that truth.
As Adrione pulled his hand away, Noah couldn't help but feel some sense of loss. It was like the bridge that they had built was suddenly gone and he was a man stranded on an island, left to die. It was such a strong emotion, something he was unused to feeling after years of... nothingness that he was uncertain as to what to do next. Regardless, he pulled his hand away, maintaining a calm facade regardless of everything. As long as he appeared calm and in control of the situation, he would be much more useful to Adrione than if he was panicking as well and yearning for something as foolish as a touch regardless of how painful it was.
"It's fine," Noah said softly, hoping that his genuineness would make the other man feel less overwhelmed and embarrassed regarding the situation.
He looked away briefly, noting how they were closing in on the docks. He was uncertain what was the wiser move. To tell Adrione the truth now before they had to face the Order or to wait. He wasn't certain of the intricacies of a soul bond, but he knew damn well that it was something sacred. Whether or not they remained platonic or not, those who shared a soul bond had a special importance in the others' life. They were like two halves of one whole, united in a way nobody but those in a soul bond could ever understand. They strengthened each other. Spiritually, mentally, and in ways that were unspoken.
They were able to communicate with one another and lend resolve to the other. It was the basics of what he had been told when he had turned and what he had never experienced. He wondered if it was their soul bond that had led to him seeing such brilliant light in Adrione's soul despite the darkness that had taken root.
Shaking his head as he leaned away from Adrione but kept his body facing him so he knew that it wasn't anything personal, he looked over the other man in concern. "I think that was possibly a manifestation of your gift," he said at long last, "I was hoping we would have more time before that happened. All immortals come back with something extra for all we've lost. We call it a gift. No two gifts are similar and some are destructive by nature and some aren't."
"Our book keeper, Eun Jung has a pair of wings that she can manifest at will," he hoped the brief explanation would suffice. "Perhaps whatever your gift is, it's amplified by the touch." Irony abounds, to imagine they both had a gift associated with the touch. At least Adrione's didn't seem malicious on the surface. He was still worried regardless, but he wasn't going to press it since they were still in a vastly public area. They knew of the Order and of their deeds and reputation, but as to what they were and what they were capable of the public knew near nothing about. And that was how the Order liked it. Otherwise, there was trouble to be found. "But we'll talk more about it somewhere safe." He added, offering a small smile in turn hoping that Adrione understood the dangers he was implying.
"It's not so much about sacrifice, either," Noah continued.
He could only shrug helplessly, "We can't save them to begin with. They're not there anymore. Humans that are possessed are just... gone. There's nothing left of them - they're just a shell, a carcass that the demons take over to utilize as their vessel in this world. We're not saving anyone from what happened to them, only preventing such cases from happening to others." He hadn't liked it either when he found out that what they did wasn't... wasn't truly helping the ones they were hired by.
The individuals who came to Order in hopes of cures and treatments for their loved ones were left with dead ones in turn. There was nothing anyone could do to save the lost. What the demon hutners of the Order of Aeon did was simply stopping the ones around the vessel from being possessed as well or corrupted by the demons. As he paused, waiting to see if Adrione had anything else he wished for an answer for, he wished he hadn't. He wished he had just continue on, giving Adrione information that was necessary for him as a young immortal. Information that wasn't... well... this.
How did you become a demon hunter?
He stared forward, for a moment, unable to meet Adrione's gaze as something akin to nausea took over. He remembered it vividly. He was trained for victory, to never accept defeat. To protect and serve, bound by duty and honor. He remembered the ash in the air, the strong overwhelming scent of smoke that permeated everything and clung to the air in a heavy haze. He remembered the faces of each and everyone of his men - loyal to the death - who stared at him with hard faces, knowing full well what they were paying for the sake of protecting their home.
He swallowed thickly, remembering exactly what it felt like when his head tumbled to the ground, red filling his vision and then darkness. There was no pain equal to the pain he had felt then. The warmth of his blood splattering down his body briefly and then the shock and fear and the nothingness. Whatever followed after that - the days when he rose from the dead - regardless of what kind of pain he felt was a fraction of what he remembered when he was alive.
Those of the Order who had never before learned of pain before their death, was always striken with how pain felt. But to him, regardless of how real and agonizing it was, it never did compare to the days before his immortality. The way the blood poured out - thick and warm - from injuries and the fear of death was when he had felt most alive.
As much as the question affected him, he couldn't just accept Adrione's offer of escape. It was the easier of the two choices, but also the less... open one. And he supposed, in due time, when Adrione found out about their soul bond he was going to learn one way or another. "I..." His voice weak even to his ears, hesitant enough that he cleared his throat slightly.
"I died in combat," he said after a moment, tone strong and firm. "My father brought me back to life, but... Whatever he hoped to achieve with his actions clearly didn't succeed. And the Order found me eventually when my gift went... a little out of control."
He laughed, and though he knew it sounded genuine because it was practiced, it sounded fake and empty to his ears. He wasn't sure why. He hadn't thought about the past in so long, he was uncertain as to why it bothered him now to even speak of it. "It drew all sorts of attention. The Order, for one, and some demons, for another. I've always been a man of the front lines, even before my death so I didn't see a reason as to not be one now. I'm certain the archives would've found somewhere fitting for me if I had any interest in being a scholar, but... I've never been able to let somebody else fight my battles."
"I hope that explanation suffices," he grinned, raising a hand to sweep his hair aside and turning as he did so so that he was now staring outside. They were bound to come to a stop soon. "Since we seem to be out of time to discuss these matters until we arrive at the Order."
With those words, the carriage came to a stop, he grabbed his cane and he opened the door before hoping out and waiting for Adrione to follow suit. "Though the ship itself belongs to an ally of the Order, I wouldn't trust him with my cane much less these matters involving the Order. So, it'll be a quiet trip. If he tries to talk to you, don't answer him. And if he asks for your name, don't give it to him whatever you do. He's an unsavory fellow despite how he looks."
Sure, Hashmi always said that Darragh wasn't something malicious but Noah didn't believe it one bit. He had that look to him and Noah was certain he was bound to lock someone away in his cellar one day and cut them up and feed them to his so-called allies. He just felt it. But things went by well enough and when they docked after their trip with little to no problems, he had still fixed Darragh with a hard stare that the other man ignored and smiled dumbly in response to. It was rather frustrating, but Noah didn't let it show. As he pulled Adrione along, pleased that Darragh hadn't done anything suspicious with Noah present, he started heading down the streets to where the European Order was currently being housed.
There were more houses and many members spread out across the globe, but he was determined to stay in this region. He didn't have anything against China or Japan which were rather beautiful nations, he just found himself more at home here. It was so different now then when he had been young, but it was still... home. To say the least, it kept the nostalgia and pain of being the last man standing at bay.
Eventually, they stumbled upon it. The series of buildings that were taken up by the Order of Aeon. He lived rather close by, but he was uncertain if Adrione wanted to even visit before he had a chance to step foot into the Order and it's large archives, meeting rooms, training rooms, mess halls, work spaces, and training grounds. Not to mention the offered housing for younger immortals who were without home now that they were... well, dead.
"The Council will want to talk to you to find out what happened to you and more importantly situate you into your new conditions," he explained as he pushed open the heavy iron doors, revealing the large roman pillars that gothic pillars that the European Order favored. "But," he was surprisingly cheery, "Fear not. That includes me."
He took him past most of the other immortals - some hunters making their way around the building, others scholars with books to study and secrets to uncover, some skilled laborers who made the weapons and armor for the order, and the many various faces of the Order. They moved out of his way, clearing a path as they skirted to a side avoiding him. Well, there were perks to having a reputation as a fearsome hunter and member of the Council afterall. And maybe... just maybe there was something that they were saying behind his back. He could feel it, but he wasn't sure. "And if you keep being your charming self, I'm sure you won't find any problems."
"It's actually a rather simple process. They'll educate you about the aspects of the Order I wasn't able to speak freely about outside these walls. And then you'll be with me again while I train you on how to deal with a demon should you have to and figure out your gift so it doesn't present any problems in the future."
A pair of hunters who passed him on their way nodded to him, one mumbling a soft "Midas" as he raised a hand in acknowledgement. "It's quite a... homely place to say the least. Though I've never been able to settle here." It reminded him of the barracks. Of the family he had built and had lost. Of the men who had rallied to his call and fell to the same blades he had died to but didn't remain dead to. Of the ones who had moved on when he had been still and steady - unmoved by time - like a boulder in a river. "You might like it here. The others are quite friendly."
"Well, after you, Adrione," he said, pushing the doors open. The meeting room was surprisingly more filled than he had expected. Usually it was just the few who were able to be present while the others went about their own business but this... This was a meeting. One without him while he was away. An occurrence that was not only rare but completely unheard of during his time in the Order - even before he was a council member. They never excluded one of their own when a problem was afoot and if they had to risk a less experienced member picking up a newly turned then they did. He narrowed his eyes for a brief moment before smiling.
"There's quite a few of you here today," he said cheerily.
It was Cerularius who spoke up first, "Ah, well, there was a breakthrough with the scholars." He didn't elaborate and Noah was generous enough not to call out the weak excuse with Adrione present. "I and Hashmi wanted to bring it to attention of the others... I'm glad you made it back in time though."
"You're frighteningly efficient, Sir Noah," Dunn said, he sounded nervous to Noah despite looking calm on the surface. "And this is?"
Biting his tongue to stop the questions on his mind about wanting to know the truth, he stepped back and waved a hand for Adrione to move forward and fill in the council. "Go ahead, Adrione," he offered the other man a supportive smile, "They don't bite." But they are keeping secrets. He hoped at the very least, with him here, Adrione wouldn't hesitate to trust him and talk to them. Even though Noah was seething with annoyance and suspicion. He just didn't know why they were keeping something from him when he was one of them. Sure, from the rest of the Order he understood. It was to avoid panic and fear. There were always a multitude of reasons. But from one another? He wasn't sure what to make of it.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Oct 15, 2018 0:45:15 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
The world was beginning to grow impossibly complicated the more Noah spoke, so much so that Adrione was starting to regret the questions he was asking, as satisfying as it was to get answers. It just seemed that he came out with more questions than answers in the end, a painfully vicious cycle that was driving him mad. He could only imagine how much worse it would get when they arrived at the Order and he'd be faced with it all at once.
Noah's explanation of the situation both confused him and cleared up some of his own questions- he scoffed a sarcastic laugh. "This doesn't feel much like a gift," he muttered, barely audible above the sound of the carriage driving across the uneven ground. He supposed the answer just cemented the fact that they weren't human anymore, stripped of all things that had made them natural. Perhaps to someone looking in, having these strange occurrences would be a gift, an ability beyond imagination, but Adrione knew by now that was not the case.
Learning that he wouldn't be able to save victims of demons didn't help too well with the atmosphere, and he sunk a bit low in his seat, trying to mask his tired, awful mindset as well as the man across from him. "Then I suppose we'll just have to act quickly, wont we?" he replied, voice coming out more monotone than he intended. His mouth had apparently decided it was done talking and just wanted to sit there and think, simmer on everything he was learning, and try not to think about the futility of it all.
He was achingly grateful to just listen to Noah, feeling weighty and tired as if coming down from a particularly intense high. There was also just something about the man's voice that was calming to him, so much so that he wanted to close his eyes and pretend like nothing else existed in the world other than the warm, rhythmic tone of his voice. As well as the fact that he felt a harsh tug of sadness every time he looked at Noah now, recalling moments ago what he'd seen.
The sadness he was feeling at the moment was not entirely his own- it was Noah's. The things he'd seen and felt and relived were not creations of his own mind, but an extension of the man before him when they'd made contact. That was his theory, at least. It seemed that Noah wasn't experiencing whatever he was, it was exclusive to his own mind and not something related to the general immortal thing going on with him. Which meant it was his gift- how painfully ironic that phrase was, he almost certain that someone very bitter had coined it for them.
It was then that Adrione regretted his question as quickly as he uttered it, immediately sensing Noah's pause, the pain that seemed to radiate off of him in thick waves. He was still incapable of shutting himself off from all these feelings that when the wave hit he just drowned in it again and again. He hardly even needed to hear Noah's story, the events pantomiming before him in real time from what he'd seen, the hell and gore of it all, the sword sliced cleanly between the vertebrae of his neck, and the swirling dark mess of what came after.
"I'm so sorry-" was all he could manage without feeling quite like he was going to cry again, and two times in front of the man was just unacceptable at this point. His words were deeply genuine in response. He didn't have to imagine anymore the kind of suffering Noah experienced as an ageless being, one who had seen more death than he himself would ever get to experience. He couldn't stop his face from reflecting the abject horror he felt knowing all of it. It was gone as quickly as it came, but the thoughts and feelings held steadfast deep within him.
Noah could bury the way he felt all he wanted, but Adrione saw it, felt it as clear as day. He admired the man for being to able carry that weight for so long and still smile in such a clever way he hid it well, and in equal measure worried for his well being. Surely living that way for so long did nothing good for one's psyche, and while Adrione didn't have an exact number to tell him how old Noah was he knew now that the answer was a painfully long time.
The deep sadness that had permeated the air faded enough now that Adrione could have a moment's respite, unable to block it out as it came. Underneath whatever Noah was feeling, the aura he gave off was still comforting, and Adrione wrapped himself in it all the way to the docks. He saved the rest of his questions for later, some still about his condition, the others about Noah. He was curious about the man's gift but figured it inappropriate to ask still, likely until they reached the Order. He couldn't glean anything from the messy web of Noah's memories, though he did feel the man's utter disgust at it at one point. How much more horrific could it get?
He followed Noah out of the carriage with a satisfied sigh, drawing in a sharp breath he knew he didn't need to take. It comforted him despite it's uselessness. Brushing a hand across his coat to straighten it out idly, he took a moment to revel in the quietness of the air. Not literally, as the sound of the waves lapping at the ships and the seabirds overhead and the shouts of working men surrounded them, but the stillness that came in his mind, nothing trying to force its way into his periphery. Not like the bar, not like the shop with Viano, and not like when he touched Noah. Just quiet.
The appreciation of it didn't last long. He found being stuck with his own thoughts while they sailed back to England was almost as worse as being forced to feel other's. He couldn't stop stewing in his own regrets, the true realization that going back home was nothing but a fantasy, a mockery of his passing. He had been okay with being migrant, alone but exchanging greetings with those he meant along the way, always some semblance of home to return to. That was all but a fleeting desire now, one that desperately twisted in his heart until it was silent, starved. There was no Adrione Dal Porto anymore, no Adrione and Astrid, no Adrione and Uriele, no Adrione and Bianca. Just Adrione. For the rest of time, forever.
He'd kept himself from seeking Noah's company during their time aboard the ship, afraid to confront that feeling of loneliness that crept up on him fast like a hungry, feral animal. Adrione and Noah wouldn't last either: it was a beast he could not afford to feed, for it was but fiction, a poison to his heart. Noah was not his lifeline, and he repeated that to himself, a mantra built on naivety.
When they finally arrived Adrione was grateful to have something to think about than his own foolish woes, even if it meant having to spend more time around Noah's deceptively enticing energy. He kept a reasonable distance as he followed the man, gazing appreciatively up at the buildings that made up the Order. At least in all their years of existence they had at least some sense of grace and aesthetic. It was nice to finally have a place to put to the name.
He nodded at Noah's words, then glanced at him with an expression of surprise. "You?" he echoed, the gears turning in his head. He should've guessed by now that Noah was someone important in the Order considering how much information he held, and how eloquent he was at repeating it. The position seemed to fit the man well in his mind, though it only tipped Adrione off to just how old Noah truly was. He felt that familiar pang in his chest again and buried it. Now was not the time. "I hope you don't expect me to bow or something of the sort."
Especially as he was struck with the fact he was about to face a council of immortals, ones with literal years of experience over him, and gifts that were likely beyond anything he could believe or dream up. As much as he didn't want the thought to intimidate him, he found himself grow a little tense, hands smoothing over the lapels of his coat as if to make himself look more presentable. "That sounds like a bit more than a simple process," he replied, a hint of bitter amusement in his voice. He looked around curiously at the people they passed- it was strange to be standing in a building full of others like him, so soon after he'd been sure that he was but an anomaly of the human condition. It didn't comfort him much, as the abundance of people only began to aggravate the edges of his mind, the suffocating presence of the space around them choking him once more.
The twinge of his headache returned, an unfortunate familiarity now. He frowned at it and held the expression as they pushed through, Adrione keeping his gaze away from other people's eyes. "I'll admit there are a bit more people than I was expecting," he mused in all honesty, "though I'm not sure exactly what it was that I was expecting in the first place." He didn't expect it to feel like a home, and that much remained true, even as Noah insisted upon it's comforting presence. Adrione was never good at being comfortable in a place full of strangers, and even moreso now. "It is impressive, I'll say that much. Overwhelming, but impressive."
He drifted through the doors idly, not quite realizing that they'd finally arrived at their destination until he turned and saw the group of people conversing before them in hushed tones. He glanced over at Noah as a prickle of surprise radiated off the man and made it's way to him. Well, that wasn't a good sign.
Eliseo straightened up a bit from where he sat, blinking at the sight of Noah walking in, much to his affinity for bad timing. "Ah..." he sighed aloud to himself, knowing that they were all about to be in some sh*t for doing this under the man's nose. He didn't feel good about it, that was for sure, and he was partially to blame as he often let Hashmi push him around. He entwined his fingers and placed them on the table in front of him, offering Noah a sheepish grin, one that was openly guilty. At the very least to signal he was more than willing to explain later. "Welcome back."
Adrione was filled with an almost immediate sense of panic. He glanced back at Noah with a brief, fearful look in his eyes, as if Noah had let go of his hand and left him stranded out at sea, sharks swimming at his feet. He felt more alone here than he had ever felt before, a room's worth of eyes all turned to him, like the gaze of God about to pass their judgement for all the sins he'd ever committed. Noah is not your lifeline, he repeated to himself. He quickly managed to get his bearings, knowing it wouldn't reflect well upon him to show weakness now of all times and here of all places.
He cleared his throat and pulled an air of composure over himself, doing his best to block out the overwhelming aura of all the powerful people before him. Noah's unease tugging at the back of his head did nothing to help, and only made him distracted with concern. At least it did a bit to quell the panic. Worrying about others was always the easier option. He nodded his head in greeting. "Adrione Dal Porto," he offered with a friendly smile, his composure returning the more he spoke. "I'm- was a doctor, from Sicily, though I'm sure you all know that aspect better than I do."
Eliseo's brows rose in a knowing expression. "I'm glad the dead always seem to have a sense of humor."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Oct 22, 2018 6:13:15 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M. Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
As he leveled his gaze around the table, brown eyes cold and calculating, he felt like he was surrounded by rival lords who were desperate to convince the young king to do this or do that. This was a court that would tear into him if given the opportunity and chance, not a table of friends. Even as Eliseo smiled sheepishly at him, clearly accepting some morsel of blame in the entirety of the situation, Noah could not find it in him to smile back. Instead, he chose to frown slightly, comforted by the small fact that Adrione was behind him and could not see his expression of disapproval.
Whereas he had been contemplating sitting a moment before, he found that he no longer wanted to bridge the gap between him and them. The division that stood between him and Adrione and the council. The separation that made up his side and their side. If that was how they wanted this game, then that was exactly how he was going to play it in turn.
He had made allies of enemies before. He was well accustomed to smiling at men who wanted him dead and sealing deals with individuals who had slain people who had meant so much to him because that was the nature of war. In the end, the good of the kingdom was more important than individual squabbles. But this once he wished that that wasn't the case and that he could ask them what they were truly doing and what was the meaning behind all this. The steady looming presence of Adrione behind him reminded him that that was impossible.
He wasn't going to be the man who planted a seed of mistrust and doubt into Adrione's mind when it regarded the Order of Aeon. The Order and even the Council itself was composed of outstanding individuals - immortals who protected the ignorant living despite getting no thanks or fame for their acts. In the end, there was no real reason as to why they did what they did. There was only one true reason. They cared.
It was completely and utterly possible for the Order to turn their back on the humans and let the demons run amok. They would turn in due time and do vile deeds, but they would never see anything wrong with their actions anyhow. And if they died, they wouldn't that finally mean an end to the unwanted immortality? Say what they would about protecting themselves, he knew all these individuals at this table - and in this building - would lay down their lives to protect. After all, what worth was a life of immortality if it was spent doing nothing of worth? There would be no legacy. There would be no purpose.
But here and now? Now they were his opponents in a battle he never wanted.
Still, his face quickly smoothed back into it's facade as Adrione followed up on his cue even as he watched the Council and Adrione from the corner of his eyes. He suppressed a smile though there was a hint of surprise at Adrione's words. A doctor, now was it? Even he wasn't expecting that kind of profession for the other man given his physique and how he handled himself around Viano. He seemed like a businessman or something corporate. Something vicious - like the Italian guilds of old where merchants ruled cities. It fitted him like a sleeve, a life he may or may have not led before this one. He did, however, huff a laugh at Eliseo's comment despite being angry at the other man.
They had been enemies once. But that was a story of old and even back then he had respected Eliseo greatly for his skill and ferocity in combat. When they had met again at the Order, Eliseo had been one of the few individuals Noah trusted and grew closer to. This coming from him, Hashmi, and Cerularius hurt more than he was willing to admit and moments after the laugh he had wanted to glance away and dismiss it but he was determined to play his role properly and he inclined his head slightly in Adrione's direction, a small gesture of approval and comfort.
It was Hashmi who quickly followed up. "Well it's always a pleasure to have a man of medicine in our ranks. What has you told him already?"
As the question came to him, he shrugged noncommittally before resting his cane against the table near the empty seat he should have taken ages ago. In between the smoldering rage and nauseating hurt and a commitment to not leaving Adrione alone - as the only figure standing in the grand room - he chose instead to rest his hands on the table and lean his weight forward. "I've told him about how we come to be, the nature of demons, and briefly touched upon his gift. It's not much, I'm afraid, but there wasn't much time to cover everything else." It was cut and dry and sparse of details but what happened then and there had been very much private and not a matter for the more prying of individuals like Dunn.
Hashmi paused briefly, contemplating his answer before nodding and clicking her tongue lightly. "Well that leaves quite a bit for us, I suppose." If it came from anyone else, he would have bristled like that was an insult, but Hashmi was nothing if not understanding and motherly.
For a brief moment, he saw Hashmi and Cerularius make eye contact and without any prompting, Cerularius was immediately responding to whatever silent cue she had given him. "We don't know much about the nature of gifts, but with a little bit of training, you'll be able to control whatever it is. And I'm certain if you stay here for awhile, it'll manifest. Everyone has one, some are a little more straight forward than others, but they're all valuable in their own ways. That said, I suppose Sir Noah's not gone over a soul bond to you, has he?" There was a tactful pause there that wasn't truly all that tactful.
Noah smiled at the statement, unamused with cold eyes as the dark coil inside of him tightened making him swallow thickly. The smile, just as quickly as he offered it, vanished for something colder and the quick change was a little unsettling if not unnatural.
Even before he could say anything, Dunn was already tutting. "It was to be expected."
He doesn't understand the intricacies of something so important went unsaid but Noah could hear it in what was left unsaid. Dunn was a man he had never liked. He was blunt and his words were unforgiving and cruel even when they didn't mean to be. He was arrogant and extravagant and far to clinical with a desire to improvise and improve to a point of near apathy. He was a smart man in studies and research, but not in conversation.
It was one of the reasons why Noah never wanted the newer recruits to have to deal with Dunn. He wasn't even sure how Dunn's soul bond fared with the other man considering how exasperated she looked half of the time. "The soul bond is something unique to us immortals. It strengthens us - it's only shared by two individuals. You'll know right away when you meet your soul bond. There's something unnaturally magnetizing about them. They're your life long companion in immortality and usually soul bonds manifest near the time span you turn or at most half a century to a century before or after you turn," Dunn, droning on and on. And Noah suddenly felt on edge, having hoped to single Adrione on his own time for this conversation now that the Council had made him feel like an outside even in a room full of familiar faces.
"You might have noticed or you might not but sensation is near loss to us. Even the touch of another's flesh feels cold. Unnatural and lacking warmth." It was too late he realized, but he hoped that Adrione would wait. He didn't want to have to fight two battles at once when he already felt like he was losing against the Council and their secrets and their lies. "But your soul bond? They're a reminder of what once was. As you strengthen in your training, your ability to provide mental barriers and communicate with your bond improves, so we'll try to find your bond and teach you to control your gift as soon as possible."
"As for now though, it would be best if you got situated in the rooms in the Order. It's safer than out there where a demon can easily snag you up," Dunn's soul bond - Lupei - was quick to say. "I'm sorry to say you've come at a bad time, Adrione. This meeting is rather important and I'm certain when it's over, anyone of us can tell you anything else you may want to know." Noah didn't bother to say they glanced over the structure of the Order completely even as he turned away from them to look at Adrione, knowing now more than ever there were questions Adrione wanted answered.
There was no way he could have forgotten given his reaction and Noah did his best to soften his eyes, pleading silently for Adrione to leave before he would confront them. There was a pause, a heavy silence that fell over them as they waited and he wanted nothing more than to sharpen his blades and ready his words, but as long as Adrione was here he was unwilling to lash out. To demand answers and ask why they were doing this to him. The last time he had felt such pain was when Anton's blade had ran clean through him in his chambers.
The other man had been ready to end his life was it not for one of the soldiers happening to pass by his chambers and hearing the struggle. Anton had fled, but once Noah had recovered enough, he had hunted the other man down and demanded answers as to why. Even as he choked on his blood, Anton refused to answer and eventually succumbed to his many wounds.
Noah was not a forgiving man and he would not start now.
But deep down, there was a compulsion to protect Adrione from the ugly side of him. From the darker truth about the Council and the violence of the world and the tragedy that made up it at its very core. And he did not want Adrione to see the blood bath that would become of the Council meeting.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Oct 24, 2018 3:49:04 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
Adrione knew quickly that he'd become caught in something that he should've never been in a position to see. Though subtle, it was clear to him as a person who had been in similar positions, wherein the people in power did not see on equal terms. Noah's refusal to sit at the table with the rest of the Council was telling, even if Adrione couldn't feel the man's hurt from where he stood. And unfortunately there was nothing he could do but stand and watch it unfold, a bystander stuck in the middle.
The inner surge of his fear seemed to subside for a moment, somehow the thought that Noah was incidentally more aligned with him than them a comforting thought. It was a selfish notion and he was annoyed at himself for having it, chastising himself silently. He was supposed to try and get acquainted with the Order, not already be turning his back to it. It was simply hard to remain open-minded when Noah seemed to be seething about something.
He would get his answers, though. He was still holding onto them carefully for when he got the chance now that they finally reached the source of all the confusion. Surely there were always going to be questions he had that couldn't be answered, but he was relieved to know he'd find some sort of respite soon enough. As apprehensive as it was to be in such a strange place with nowhere else to go, he was feeling a certain curiosity he hadn't felt in a long time. It was strange that dying had led him onto a path that only made him feel more alive.
Adrione did have to admit he was a bit entertained knowing that Noah probably assumed his profession was something more...befitting his appearance, some might say. A light smile made it's way on his face, one of sly amusement. Once upon a time the man had been right, after all. His sharpness had it's time and place- he had all those dangerous parts on standby, it was just a waste to have them on display all the time. He had to look at least somewhat kind.
His gaze flickered back and forth as the Council conversed, hanging on every word like it were gospel. The thought of training his gift sounded so official out loud, as if it were some kind of skill to be learned and not a mistake. It was hard to be hopeful about it when he was barely hanging on, even now. Powerful people and powerful energies, they just didn't know how to f*cking shut it off, did they? He wondered how different it might've been if his 'gift' had manifested behind the closed doors of the Order, safe and protected, quarantined. How annoying to be an early bloomer.
Keeping his mouth shut about it now only made him feel like he going a bit crazy, trapped within his own struggles. They'd be informed eventually, yes, but now was absolutely not the time, and that wasn't just his instinct kicking in. They'd already been interrupting something, and he hated to make it worse. He needed a breather, not a swarm of curious people or some trying too hard to help. Later, there'd be time for him to lose his mind later.
The phrase "soul bond" echoed in his ears, entirely new to him. "No?" he said aloud, unsure if that was the right answer here. It didn't hurt to not have the answers, considering he had next to none, it just made him feel more vulnerable. Just another instinct that he had to shove to the side for now. He snapped his attention in Noah's direction the second he felt another shift in feeling from the man. It was hard to tell what it was but it made him shift uncomfortably. The explanation trailed along, the words starting to make him feel apprehensive again. The connotations were so heavy, a commitment he'd never been able to find even in his own lifetime.
Life long companion was a lot more weight for two immortals, when your lifespan was a never-ending number. Could two people really tolerate each other for that long? Well, he supposed they didn't have a choice by the sound of it. A bond made in death, an ironic juxtaposition to the soulmate tales of old. This seemed to be a rather advanced version.
He wasn't spared a single moment to contemplate the terrifying notion of it all, the realization that the poor b*stard stuck with him was already in the room hitting him like a rush of cold air. Adrione didn't dare turn to look at Noah, eyes widening a bit in reaction, at a total loss. Even dead, he hadn't had the chance to realize that he didn't feel a damn thing- Viano wasn't a fluke, and neither was Noah. It was so real and unavoidable.
For a moment his hands clenched in anxiety, and then his agenda flipped. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him, those days he'd spent lamenting on being dead and alone, crawled out of a hole in a cold corpse. All his attempts to keep from getting too acquainted with Noah knowing somehow it wouldn't last, the reverse simply slapping him in the face. He was a fool to think this new life would ever stop being confusing. Thank God he actually liked Noah, as much of a troublemaker he seemed to be underneath all that wit and charm.
Anxiety and fear fell from his shoulders and a fierce protectiveness took their place, acceptance coming quicker than even with his reanimation. Some bonds were just forged like that, in blood and desperation or an act of fate. As distrusting as he was of the man in the beginning, Adrione couldn't ignore the fact that Noah was there for him, even if it had been out of obligation. It meant something, now more than ever. He would not forget what the man had done for him. In a way, Adrione was glad it turned out to be him
Noah may have been an old very powerful immortal, but just feeling his anger and betrayal was enough for Adrione to want to shield him from it. It was hard to ignore when he could feel it so strongly, something they unwittingly shared. He crossed his arms now, less defensive of himself and more of the man next to him, head turned slightly in both curiosity and accusation. It wasn't his place to know what was going on between them all, but now he had stakes in it. "Sounds complicated," he said, once again preferring to keep the truth a little longer. If Noah wasn't going to mention it yet, neither was he.
"Oh, it is," Eliseo laughed that time, as if trying to ease the tension in the room. It didn't seem to be working. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle it."
Adrione shrugged. "You're right." He was overtaken with deadly calm and it showed. One of them had to be collected, and he was okay with taking that responsibility. It was easier than being scared, comforting in it's own way. They were motions he knew how to follow. He didn't understand the gravity of what it meant to have a soul bond, not yet, but he knew how to be a friend, a person to lean on. Everyone needed someone on their side, and Adrione could do that for Noah, no questions asked. After all, he didn't know the Order: he knew Noah. In a way, that was where his world began and ended.
The way he lingered after being dismissed was purposeful, instead glancing over towards Noah where he met his pleading gaze- at any other time he might've been amused at the sight of it, the smaller man trying so hard to win him over. Even if things weren't the same he'd likely have given just as quickly. His attention was a silent signal that he was listening, that there was one person's words in the room that really mattered to him. He wasn't angry and he made it clear, his concern showing through his composed visage. They'd talk later, he was sure.
He turned back to face the rest of the Council, dipping his head slightly in a show of thanks and respect. "Of course, I think I can be patient a bit longer. Sorry to interrupt- thank you for having me," he replied with a light smile, adjusting his coat and moving back towards the doors. He gave Noah an understanding nod before walking out, only hoping that the man wasn't going to be eaten alive by his peers with whatever was going on. He knew well enough the uneasy atmosphere he was leaving the immortal to fend for himself in. As much as he hated the idea of leaving Noah in there by himself, he knew there was nothing he could do right now.
The doors closing behind him he sucked in a breath of relief, pausing to drag his hands across his face and kept them there, feeling respite to not have to look at the world, not have to see and perceive and deal with it at least for a few seconds. His thoughts were practically screaming to be collected, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it yet. Now alone, truly this time, he was unsure of what to do. Stand and wait, yes that was obvious, but where? The building seemed even more vast now as he stood by himself, staring down it's maw where curiosity gnawed at him, toiling with his reservations.
He wouldn't wander far, he determined, taking a few steps and feeling the weight of the conversation seem to ease. The things he learned still haunted him, not as hungry as before. It was hard to imagine what life must've been like for Noah, 600 years of true loneliness, Adrione felt a fool for even thinking he knew what that was like, that he had any right to complain. Never would he have considered himself lucky in this situation before this, the idea that he never had to live without settling in him shaped more like guilt. Lifetimes over without touch, without even the idea of it for centuries upon centuries. How had the man not gone crazy?
Adrione paced the hall, not bothering to even look at those that he passed this time, choosing instead to poke around the rooms he found, trying to distract himself. He wasn't sure what was harder to accept- the idea of being so close with someone for the rest of his existence, or the fact that he'd indirectly abandoned someone for 600 years. Realistically he knew it wasn't his fault, and yet it hurt him.
He had centuries upon centuries to never let it happen again- nor let anyone else do the same, and of that he was certain.
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Oct 24, 2018 12:06:29 GMT -5
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Noah Wright, K.M.
ย Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
If he was surprised by the sudden change in Adrione's demeanor, it didn't show. The air of anxiety that seemed to cling around the other man seemed to fade in a manner that it felt almost tangible. It also didn't take him long to realize Adrione was not angry or upset with him, instead he looked concerned and for the life of him, Noah couldn't place why but he accepted it relieved that he was going to be able to speak to Adrione in his own time and on his own terms. He offered the younger man a small smile even as he watched him dismiss himself. Even as he watched Adrione leave, he felt like he was coiled less tight. Like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he no longer had to worry himself over Adrione seeing this.
Whereas he felt a breath of relief, it seemed like the council members were more ready than ever for conflict. They were tense and wary, watching him like a feral animal. They remained silent even as he paced back and forth, still unwilling to sit before he came to an abrupt stop and turned towards them, a burning rage mixing with a suffocating pain in a lethal combination.
"So?" He prompted and looks were shared around the table. They acted like a platoon that wanted to protect one of their own, but it seemed to him they forgot that he was also one of their own. "There was a new breakthrough, you said? One that warranted a meeting without me?"
Dunn was the first to try to placate him, except he was lying through the skin of his teeth and Noah knew it just as well as he did. "Yes, you see it's absolutely brilliant-" His demeanorย was completely and utterly nervous and his voice's pitch was off, but he was confident in his own self damnation even as Hashmi shifted near him, straightening up in a telltale sign that she was about to involve herself in this.
"Dunn," Hashmi's voice was short of chiding even as she finally made eye contact with him. Noah did nothing to ease the tension as Dunn snapped his mouth shut and sat back in his chair, silent and brimming with nervous energy as he waited for the worst to happen. "You're right, Noah. It isn't about a new breakthrough."
A wave of anger overwhelmed him as he headed straight for the table speaking in a low harsh tone,ย "An organization of scholars and warriors and now you all sneak behind my back like liars and thieves?"
Cerularius immediately rebuked him, standing up tall and looming but Noah was not afraid. "Be careful what you say, No-"
"Or what? Tell me, what will you do next?" He did not shy away from conflict even as Cerularius seemed to become increasingly agitated. In any other situation, he resolved conflicts. In this particular situation, he was both an involved party and instigator. His hands into fists at his sides as he dared Cerularius to answer. "You'll demote me?"
"Noah, you know that's not why we did this."
Hashmi's voice, soft and placid in contrast to Cerularius', fell on deaf ears. He just wanted the truth. He just wanted an answer that none of them seemed willing to give. "Then why?"
"When it concerns you we'll-"
"It damn well concerns me if you're talking about me behind my back!" He didn't realized he had raised his voice.
"Noah that's not what happened," Hashmi sounded sad. He wasn't sure why.
"Then what do you call this?"
"You watch your mouth, boy!" Cerularius's shout seemed to echo in the room and whereas most would keel over at the other man's authority, he was not most men. He glared back at the other man, ferocious and unwilling to stand down.
"As carefully as you do?!"
The implications were not lost on the other immortals even as Cerularius drew back as if struck by a vicious blow at Noah's hand. He seemed disappointed or upset and Noah knew he was supposed to feel guilty, but it didn't seem like any of the council members shared that sentiment so why should he? As a tension descended upon the room, he decided to try once again with a gentler approach - one that reflected his pain rather than his rage.
"Tell me the truth," he tried again, looking for some semblance of understanding among the others and feeling as if he was staring at a sea of strangers. "It's all I ask of you." Don't cast me out like this.
"It is about you," Hashmi began slowly, realization dawning in her amber eyes. "We're afraid that maybe even if you do find your soulbond in the next decade-" and Noah wanted nothing more than to say he had found him. Wanted to say that he was right outside the door- "It may already be too late. There's no saying if... If the damage can be reversed." She didn't mention it. Didn't say how fragmented and dark and wrong he was, how he was a danger to keep around, but he heard it all the same. More than that he felt it and he was silent, rendered speechless.
It was so quiet a pin drop would echo in the room - breaking the silence and the tendril of want that had been slowly budding only to dissipate into a disgust at his own selfishness and raw fear that he would not only seal his own fate but Adrione's as well.
"What do you mean?"
"It's just... It's never happened before and with every day you're decaying, Noah." Her words were soft whereas his were hoarse. "I don't know if you can hold out. Even if you can, I don't know if there's any mending this."
And as the dread sunk deep to the bottom of his stomach, understanding settled in. "You could have told me," he insisted. "If you need to kill me, you should have just told me." But not now. Not with Adrione waiting outside.
Hashmi's eyes softened immediately even as he wondered who had been given the task. "Oh Noah."
He felt sick even as he backed away from them. "I died before for my kingdom. What doubt did you have that I would hesitate now?" Even as he said the words, he found that everything sounded foreign and distant to his ears. "I... I'll be taking my leave now." Whatever blind rage he felt consume him earlier faded away and left in its wake a world weary exhaustion. He faintly swore he heard a voice calling him back, trying to stop him from leaving but he continued on his way.
Pushing the door open, he dimmly noted Adrione had been waiting for him. He blinked in surprise and tried to muster a small smile but failed to do so properly. In the end, he stood there half grimacing half smiling. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to go home. You're welcomed to come along unless you'd rather stay " He honestly hoped Adrione would come, but he wasn't going to ask it of the other man. There were so many different explanations but none seemed sufficient so he lamely settled on, "It's been a long few days."
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Post by The Blue Adept on Oct 25, 2018 2:47:17 GMT -5
Adrione Dal Porto
Recently Deceased. Immortal. Gift: Unknown.
Time seemed to pass achingly slow while Adrione waited, unable to escape the thoughts that bit at his heels. Idle distractions lost their potency the longer he pretended they were actually working, and his mind instead wandered again. This and that, here and there, his thoughts strayed as he placed himself back in front of the door, the only thing reminding him that he'd been waiting at all was the dull sound of conversation from behind the doors in front of him.
Eavesdropping didn't work, nor did he even think to try it. There were some things that he was better off not knowing, they would come to him in time if they mattered. As if it were personal interest that would drive it anyways- information was valuable to protect others, too. In a way he was glad he couldn't understand what was being spoken, as it was likely it would just make him mad.
So he stood, and he waited. He kept himself from closing his eyes, as desperately as he wanted to shut the world out for a moment. He needed to see, to be aware, now more than ever. Even if he ended up being too aware, it was necessary. He had to stay in top form, as prepared as possible as he crumbled from the inside out. Astrid would surely poke fun at him if he couldn't survive this, couldn't push through. God, the thought pained him more than he expected and he quickly shut it down. Reminiscing remained a false hope, unfortunately.
The yelling that sounded from the behind the doors startled him from his thoughts, every nerve in his body begging him to rush in. He had half the mind to do it, but relented. There was no situation in which him rushing in would help, and he knew it. It hurt either way, knowing things were going sour right in front of him and he couldn't lift a finger. He clenched his fists tightly as a means to keep himself grounded, from acting on whim and impulse.
He just hoped that whatever was happening wasn't going to end ugly. If that were the case, Adrione wasn't afraid to make heads roll. Luckily it seemed he didn't have to as the doors finally opened and Noah stepped out, looking worse for wear, but in one piece. Adrione blinked, as if he were somehow caught in the act of his violent thoughts. His surprise didn't last long as Noah's energy rolled over him like a dark, heavy wave. Whatever had happened in there hadn't turned nasty, but it certainly had not been good. He nearly recoiled at the potency of it, almost moving back a step. Instead the concerned expression from before was back, stronger than ever.
For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say. All his thoughts from the time he spent waiting crashed into each other, he couldn't decide what to address first. No questions, no, but something. Anything. The apology fell from his lips without warning. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," he said, it was unclear what exactly he was talking about. Adrione knew. He didn't know just how to articulate it yet, how to say it in a way that properly conveyed how he felt. Adrione didn't bother to elaborate, segueing back on topic instead with a slight shift of his feet.
Adrione had to stop himself from asking if Noah was okay- it was a stupid question, especially on his end where he knew more than he should've, Noah's sorry excuse for a smile more clear than it would've been if he was just seeing it and not feeling it. The fact that the man could barely hide his hurt was telling enough that he was going through something rightfully awful. He knew better, because if he asked, Noah would give him a lie too. The frown on Adrione's face would be enough to show that he was concerned but knew better than to ask. He didn't think he had any right to comfort him either, not with the awkward situation they were in.
Sometimes someone needed a comforting presence more than words, and Adrione was happy to tend to that duty instead of stumbling to fix hundreds of years of hurt. If Noah wanted to tell him, he would, and Adrione was a patient man. Telling Noah that he knew he was upset already likely wouldn't help the situation much either, so he abstained. It would have it's time and place, and he was equally eager to be away from other people at the moment.
Adrione glanced away in thought before looking back down at Noah. He looked impossibly small under all that pain. "I'm not sure how well I'd fare here by myself at the moment, so I think I'll join you," he replied, statement honest but hiding the fact that it was also an extension of his understanding, that he was there if Noah needed. He had to return the favor, after all. "It's a nice place but too many people for me to handle at the moment."
A long few days was the biggest understatement he'd heard. That was cutting it far too simply- it was easy to forget that so much had happened so quickly. Adrione thought he'd retired from that eventful life long ago. He nodded nodded at Noah's statement, straightening as if in a quiet sigh. "Surely you've earned yourself a break. Lord knows we need it."
As curious as Adrione still was about the Order, he needed to tackle it with a fresh mind. His questions, his fears could wait- he had more than enough lifetimes to spend waiting, after all. He gestured for Noah to lead the way, an almost awkward gesture to show that he did not remember where the entrance was.
"Admittedly, I don't think I ever imagined immortality to be so...convoluted," he commented offhandedly, unsure of where to steer the subject. "You make it look easy."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Dec 22, 2018 4:46:14 GMT -5
Noah Wright, K.M.
Demon Hunter of The Order of Aeon.
He couldn't lie if he wanted to. The second Adrione apologized to him, Noah averted his gaze unsure how to respond to such a momentous statement. It felt like an all encompassing apology for everything. The loneliness, the startling warmth of another touch, the betrayal, and the sorry state that Noah was in. He bit down the answer before he did anything rash. The words "It's nothing" or "Don't be" died before they even left his lips. Instead he swallowed thickly, choosing against smiling to Adrione and throwing back everything he had given him in his face. He closed his eyes for a moment too long, before he nodded. He wouldn't answer until he could give Adrione a proper response for his genuine apology even though he had nothing to apologize for.
He headed down the long corridors in silence for a moment, choosing to listen to Adrione explain himself. It was a relief that Adrione was going to be coming with him. For some reason, the true divide he had felt in the meeting room was becoming more and more apparent. He loved them like family.
What he had with the Order of Aeon was the same as what he had had when he was a knight for King Richard I, the others who served with him without hesitation became his family. It was a bond different from that than the one he shared with his father and even his brother. It was one of blood and understanding - an intimate knowledge of what the other looked like covered in blood, soot, and sweat. Their teeth bared in a snarl, their sword felling many an adversary in battle. It was the vision into the other men's souls. The darkness and cruelty that war brought force.
In the Order, their souls were bared to him just as his was to them. They were all united under a common banner. They all fought a common enemy. But now, with that division in place, he wanted to be far away and Adrione coming along was a heavy weight off his chest. He chose to answer Adrione at his own pace, having taken several long strides away from the meeting room before finally speaking up.
"You didn't do anything wrong," he said after a moment, licking his lips carefully as he kept as his pace. "Neither you nor I could have accounted for that. If anything, I should be apologizing for not being more... forthright with the information."
"I just didn't know how." He stopped after that, choosing not to elaborate himself as a duo of hunters passed by with their own respectful greetings. The hallways seemed to go on forever when he wanted nothing more than to leave whereas when he just wanted to think, he always seemed to stumble upon a dead end. It seemed ironic but he didn't laugh. The bitter moroseness in his chest wouldn't allow it even if he wanted to. As much as he wanted to lighten the tension, there was too much to swallow down. Here, in the walls of the Order, he felt like it was going to fold in on him and suffocate him.
As he finally reached the ornate double doors, he wasted no time to push them open. He nearly hit a rather unfortunate young immortal as he hurried out into the open streets, certain that Adrione was close behind on his heels.
It felt like a breath of fresh air.
The suffocation from being inside the walls seem to let go of him and he finally managed to look at Adrione. He was ashamed to meet the other man's eyes, remembering the damning words that Hashmi had told him. You're decaying. I don't know if there's any mending this. How could he take advantage of Adrione's quiet acceptance without telling him that maybe... maybe he had sealed both of their fates. There was something bitter about that thought that he didn't dare voice so instead he smiled, this one genuine. "I'm glad you chose to accompany me though." His next words were quieter, almost quiet enough that he hoped Adrione didn't hear it. "God knows I need the company."
He hoped Adrione could tell he was as honest to Adrione as Adrione was being to him. Behind closed doors... They could speak about anything there. It was like a pocket of the universe just for them to deal with all the complications that were piling up one after enough. He could see it. His rather grandiose estate was coming into view.
It was more of a collector's vault for him than a place of permanent residence. He didn't require rest or subsistence nor did either do much if anything for him. So he filled it with objects of his travels, valuables he cherished and love, memories and trinkets. Hopefully, if Adrione saw it he would also see Noah for who he was. His house had always seemed to him to be a visual representation of his soul. Swallowing thickly, he wasn't sure why he felt such a strong sense of desire to please Adrione. To have Adrione like his house. "Trust me, immortality is just a prolonged existence." He laughed quietly at his words as he pushed the heavy walnut door open, waving an arm for Adrione to look inside at the various items he had amassed over the centuries.
There were fur rugs, mounted heads of the prey he had taken down in his youth and even of some of the less savory creatures. His suit of armor greeted him, the golden sheen reflecting his visage back to him. "It's charming at times but sometimes it gets... a little lonely."
He sighed.
The admission felt like the most he could offer Adrione. He wished it was enough. He entered the house completely, leaving his back to Adrione as he lifted his head to look up at the spiraling staircase and the crystal chandelier that hung over head. "You must have a lot of questions, Adrione."
A small smile flitted across his face, but it felt like a parody of the one he had offered Adrione moments after their meeting. His voice was relatively soft and less commanding than earlier. "I'm more than willing to answer them for you." The infliction of his words was no mistake. There was no denying the truth any longer.
He had already known what Adrione was. Now that Adrione knew what he was as well, the truth was bound to come out one way or another. He preferred it if Adrione heard it from him rather than the others. That and he wasn't certain how he was going to handle the council when they found out the inevitable truth as well.
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