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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 20, 2024 2:37:38 GMT -5
( Sounds good, we can do that, then! Maybe there's a reveal that she's betrayed Win later?
Well! It's not very clever ;;; I just wanted to give you the option for Edwin to learn more about the witches, the history of their special objects, or what they were planning- so it'd be a 'coincidence' kind of thing, but I thought something could ricochet and hit or land near him while Glue was fighting- but then I realized that there shouldn't reasonably be any fighting, because they'd have no idea that Glue was going to show up in the first place. ;;;
So I had to rethink things and do some research on their magical items- and I settled on the Hand of Glory with tweaked abilities and the Seal of Solomon for what affects the Guardian Angels' bonds. It's said to be a ring that bound the djinn to the king's will, so I've tweaked its properties to be something that can also break those bonds.
I was thinking that that would be the main object the trio- and coven- would be looking for, but it's fragmented so they'd have to gather all of the pieces. One of the witches has a fragment with her during the break in because she thinks it's part of a ring of invisibility, but when Glue's magic interacts with it, it causes the wings and halo that bind him to temporarily go haywire & the witches make their escape.
But this is all subject to change with your input! ^^
As for Win's visions- I think Glue would be more likely to stand in front of Edwin or move him back by herding him in that direction, so he'd be touching his cape. I'll have to go back over Gluttony's story to see what would fit into the second category- if that's what you want to go with! Strong or recent emotions would be kind of boring depending on how recent they are- Example being, he feels strong emotions every time he puts his cape back on but that wouldn't reveal much to Edwin because his expression wouldn't really change.
For repeated actions...hm, it could be the times he's used his cape to block weapons and magic. But again, I'll go back over his story for more details!
Right! There's something...I guess 'narrative' about it? I don't remember the right word for it, but it's always fun to read when you can see the ante being upped with each new revelation. ^^
Great! I look forward to it! It's funny that you picked Gluttony because he's uniquely suited for it~ )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 20, 2024 12:51:43 GMT -5
( absolutely, i'm in!
hmmm i do agree that it might be interesting to have him get a glimpse of what the witches have... if we want to go that route, maybe he makes a grab for them as they're very obviously stealing his work, which he's very protective over? if we're going with a ring idea that would be easy enough - he'd just need to touch her hand. even if the coven only has part of the original, it could be a stone that's been reset into a new ring or something - which the coven might know or might not
the cloak makes sense! it's also massive enough that he would honestly have to try pretty hard not to touch it. let me know if you find something you think would work, otherwise i think seeing it used for defense works!
like rising action maybe?
haha win would be relieved to know i did him this favour ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 22, 2024 2:00:51 GMT -5
( Great! I'll take that into account ^^
Oh, that works! I was thinking it could be something like that originally, but I didn't know if it'd fit into Win's character! ^^
So that's still an option!
Okay! I have an idea of what I'm going for now! To explain my reasoning- I thought we could use this display of Edwin's magic to enhance the plot further, so I was hoping for whatever he sees to be significant in some way! If we go the route of him touching Glue's cloak I can come up with a few snippets of his life that fit into either repetition or high emotion.
Like the chess game, they'd come into play again later~
Yeah, something like that!
Lol I certainly hope so with everything else he has to deal with! )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 22, 2024 4:04:23 GMT -5
( do you have a preference between the two options? i can see upsides to both & i'm the most indecisive person ever lol ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 22, 2024 15:35:37 GMT -5
( To be honest I'm right there with you ^^"
How about this- do you want to give Edwin some intel on the coven/what they're planning now or have him learn more about them as they appear to disrupt his life? And it's the same with Glue, although on his end Edwin would just learn about his past a little. )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 22, 2024 16:40:27 GMT -5
( honestly either could be good ^^" but my first thought is i'd rather have him get some info on glue. plus it makes it easier/more logical to keep both the guys & the coven a bit more in the dark about each other for now. unless you're leaning in the opposite direction i'll just decide not to overthink it beyond that haha ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 22, 2024 16:46:50 GMT -5
( Okay! Yep, that way we'd have an even playing field. ^^
Right now I'm just figuring out how to structure my reply! I'm working on getting into Glue's headspace and I also have to figure out the witches & how I'll include them- I'm thinking one post for them and another for him? )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 22, 2024 16:56:33 GMT -5
( sounds good!
one post for each makes sense! ill probably do something similar, putting several characters in the same space gets messy when the posts get longer. do you want to do one/two witches each, or is it better to have them as more open, free to move/shared characters? ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 22, 2024 21:33:52 GMT -5
( Hm, which is easiest for you? I have an idea of how I'm writing these three, so I can share that and we can take turns writing them as it suits us, or you can have one as your own character? And of course you're welcome to control over Charlie & any other witches that you see fit to include! ^^)
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 23, 2024 1:40:07 GMT -5
( hmmm. i guess it kind of depends on how important these particular witches are. i feel like it makes sense to have seperate characters for the more important/higher standing members of the coven while having the less important, less decisive ones more like npcs. but if you already have something in mind, im absolutely okay with you having sole responsibility for these three regardless if you'd prefer c: )
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 23, 2024 2:09:37 GMT -5
( I'd say they're mid-ranked in both narrative and hierarchical importance. I just have a basic background & personality types to make writing them easier, so they could just be NPCs! They might pop up again here and there but I wouldn't say they're key figures. )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 23, 2024 5:20:48 GMT -5
( alright - let's go with that, then :D ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 23, 2024 17:17:25 GMT -5
( ^^ Sounds good! I have some errands to run but I'll get to writing soon! I want to try to do it all in one sitting because the witches' post is only to establish the scene. )
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 24, 2024 4:53:46 GMT -5
× The Witches × --- Ophelia flinches, the sudden ' whoosh' of air from behind causing the candle flame held before her to flicker dangerously. She steadies her breathing and cups a hand over it just before it goes out, shoulders hunched and body tense for a few heartbeats afterward as if she expects the near miss to send their plan crashing down around her ears. And they've barely made it into the building.
"Why," she hisses, cornflower blue eyes remaining fixed on the hypnotic flames, "would you slam the door like that?!" The words emerge in a pitched stream like the whistling from a teapot. Teddy winces and shuffles away from the door guiltily, holding her own candle close to her chest as if it could ward away her sister's ire. "I-I'm sorry my hand just slipped, these things are so waxy-"
"Save it!" Ophelia straightens and rubs at her temples with her free hand, forcing her tall body to become looser once more. Better suited to subterfuge. "They can blame it on the wind. Come on, he should be asleep by now."
Their third sister had remained silent throughout the exchange, her lips parted as if prepared to defend the youngest but ultimately deciding to squeeze her shoulder as she passes instead. No meaningful looks can be shared, the magic only holds as long as they remain focused on the dancing flames of their lumpy candles. Ophelia takes the lead as always, and the others silently fall into step behind her. It had once been difficult to navigate using only their peripheral vision, but early training as an acolyte has made it almost second nature to smoothly avoid the comings and goings of the few tenants in the hall and stairwell. The trio pass undetected, guided by the wan light cast by candles gripped in a dead man's hand.
The Hand of Glory is a common enough artifact- operating in secrecy, their ancestors were in need of its special properties to prevent their movements from being tracked by paranoid village-folk. It served a similar purpose in the modern world, with the added benefit of aiding witches in recovering items and information lost to them. This mission is one such 'recovery', although the information they are returning to those who would best use and protect it isn't from some long-lost sister of theirs. Ophelia was shocked to hear that a mere man far removed from their way of life was making connections and discoveries that even the most erudite of their coven took months to parse. They'd had Charlie maintain contact as he delved deeper into a world not meant for him, but Delphina had finally decided that his research should be retrieved when his latest find proved too significant to leave in dubious hands.
She was a bit hesitant to act without the express permission of the High Priestess, but in the end, her curiosity and resentment for a person who saw her livelihood as a fun side project swayed her into taking on the mission. It's a simple one, but surely significant enough to have the higher ranks take notice. Delphina had come to her, specifically. That has to mean something. Ophelia will not fail her. And she won't allow her sisters to either.
Teddy is panting by the time they reach the door that had been marked by another witch, and Ophelia carefully kneels to remove the thumb-sized bundle of twigs that had been wedged in the bottom corner. She slips it into the pocket of her shapeless black dress as she rises and turns her body to face her sisters.
"Teddy, stay out here. Felicia is coming in to help me gather the research."
The small brunette shifts uncomfortably, head lowered. The pickled hand in hers wavers as she fights the urge to rub at her shoulder. "But I thought- Oh...okay. Three knocks, right?"
Felicia gives her a smile, though it's likely that she doesn't see it. "That's right. We won't be long."
Ophelia raises her left hand and turns the ring on her thumb twice clockwise and once counter clockwise before waving it over the doorknob. There's a faint click as the lock disengages. She gingerly turns the knob and opens the door just a crack, enough for her and her shorter sister to slip in sideways. Just before she closes the door behind her, she reaches out with her free hand to pat Teddy on the head. It earns her a startled jolt as the younger woman struggles not to lift her eyes, but her lips quirk in a minute smile before it's obscured by the door. It isn't a verbal apology, but that can come later. She is perhaps unreasonably tense. Something about this night causes the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She wants to blame it on the charged air before a lightning storm but intuitively, she knows this isn't the case. Perhaps it's the nature of what they're recovering. Something big enough for Delphina to act without consulting the High Priestess.
When Ophelia turns back to the quaint apartment, it's in a state of extreme focus. She isn't concerned about being discovered- the Hand of Glory renders them completely invisible and negates any sounds that they make- but there is still room for error. They need to move quickly, before whatever is prickling at her awareness...happens.
Her little bouts of 'precognition'- if she can even call it that- are never clear but always precede some significant development in her life. Like the death of their mother or Bethany deciding to take them under her wing. She can only hope that this instance falls under the latter category.
Ophelia has passed the sofa by the time the home's sole occupant slinks into the living room. Felicia freezes but the older witch keeps moving, though her perfectly plucked brows arch at the sight of the man still awake despite expectations. Well, Charlie had said that he studied late. No matter. He can neither see nor hear them. He may be able to discern their location if they disturb anything material, however. So her confident stride becomes more careful as she strives to avoid bumping into or stepping on anything that may alert him.
"Teddy, the door!" Felicia calls, and their sister dutifully knocks on his front door to draw his attention while the other two sneak past.
They've made it to his study and are in the process of slipping in when a cold voice causes her heart to stutter in her chest. Felicia gasps and Ophelia falters, fingers squeezing around rubbery flesh.
"State your name and purpose."
What- he...can't possibly be addressing her? Not even witches can detect other witches under the effects of the Hand of Glory if they aren't in possession of the dead man's fingernails! Yet, that voice comes from directly behind her. And it's pitched low and threatening, the undertone of an animalistic growl reverbrating in her bones. It doesn't belong to a man wondering if someone has entered his home, it brings to mind a guard dog warding off an intruder that he can in fact, see. Or at least smell.
Her heart pounds in her chest and her teeth clench, but she waves Felicia ahead and slowly turns to face the man behind them. Her sister yelps and jerks back, bumping into her but Ophelia can't look away to see what had caused her to react so. She can't even properly see whoever is standing before them. She holds the Hand aloft and turns her head so that she can catch him in her periphery.
Ophelia can make out general dark clothing, but what catches her attention most is the scarlet cloak that brackets it. There's a white fur-lined ruff and frigid blue eyes that she can feel more than see, boring into her like knives. She guesses that he's male due to his masculine voice, but his height places him beneath her own 5'11. The cloak more than makes up for it, however. That and the quiet malice in his tone. There is still a possibility that he doesn't truly know they're before him, so she ducks her head to whisper to her sister. "Go into the office and open the window."
"I can't!" Felicia frantically whispers back. "There's a blade hovering just in the doorway, I nearly ran into it!"
What?
"Just a blade- or a person with a blade? Be specific!"
"I didn't see anyone!"
Ophelia's mind races. What or who is he? Why is he here?! No one but Delphina and her sisters themselves knew about this mission- could he be another witch? But the way he spoke-
"I will not repeat myself."
She starts at the return of his voice. There's definitely a growl in it, and it doesn't sound human- what kind of spell- no, her priority is getting her sisters out of this alive. Ophelia straightens her back and lifts her chin slightly. She just has to assume that he sees them and work from there. She takes a step forward and uses the movement to swing her left hand behind her back, slipping off the ring on her middle finger and pressing it into Felicia's hip. Just as quickly, Felicia takes a step back and uses the movement to cover her accepting the ring and sliding it onto her own finger. It's a work of her own- the cobbled together remains of a number of rings for invisibility. Or at least she prays that it is. 'Please work. Just for tonight.'
"My name is Cassandra Cain and I've come to recover stolen property."
Taking a gamble, Ophelia lifts her gaze from the flames and meets his narrowed blue eyes, sharper and icier than her own. His face is surprisingly youthful but utterly blank, almost like a featureless mask. There is nothing to read there, yet- She clenches her jaw to prevent it from dropping, finding her attention drawn to the bright orange vulpine ears protruding from similarly colored hair. They're flattened against his skull with obvious hostility, and the bulk of his cloak moves behind him, as if concealing a lashing tail. She isn't sure whether the animal appendages or the damn halo hovering over his head is more bewildering. It's shaped like a three-pronged crown of golden light, rotating lazily at an angle.
How- what-
"The owner of this home is no thief." His stance is loose and not particularly defensive or offensive. Though ramrod straight, his arms are crossed over his chest and he makes no move to attack her. She takes that as a good sign, perhaps if she keeps him talking-
"Leave." There's an edge of finality to his tone. He clearly lacks the patience for parley. He isn't visibly armed but if he has some weapon planted here already...
Ophelia wants to glance behind her but doesn't dare. She can only hope that Felicia has intuited her plan. The human appears to have seen her now, but strangely the...other being is still unnoticable to him. Behind them both, the front door opens a crack and Teddy looks in on them with confusion. Ophelia makes a minute gesture for her to run, but she only twitches.
The witch holds up both- all three of- her hands and makes a sarcastic little bow. "Oh? My mistake, I'll just be going then." As she has reached the lowest part of her bow, Felicia raises her hand over her sister's head and whispers the 'key' to releasing the magic of her ring. Light balloons out accompanied by a fiery gust of wind, and the figure before her blurs away. "Teddy, run!" Ophelia straightens and Felicia fairly sprints into the office. The magic hadn't responded the way she anticipated, but it served as a distraction nonetheless. She barrels across the living room, vaulting the sofa and waving frantically for her youngest sister to run ahead of her. Teddy finally turns to make her get away, and the tightness in her chest eases just a bit.
The apartment echoes with the sound of steel meeting steel. Upon reaching the door, Ophelia can't help turning to find the source of the sound. The fox has backed the human against a wall, a gloved hand holding his cloak aloft as if to shield him from harm. But he's no longer standing straight, he's hunched slightly as if in pain and appears to be weighed down by the massive metallic wings that sprout from his back and drag against the floor. They're rusted and bloody, as is the once shining halo above his head. It's tilted on an axis, leaking purplish blood from spiderwebbing cracks in the golden light. The blood drips onto his head and streams from his wintry eyes like tears.
Their gazes meet once again, both showing utter confusion at this turn of events- until the sound of a body meeting the wall draws their attention to the human he had been guarding. He appears to be having some form of seizure- the angelic being immediately drops to his knees and extends a trembling hand toward him but doesn't make contact. Ophelia is pulled away from her observation by a near hysterical Teddy. "What are you doing we have to go!"
She inhales sharply and spins on her heel, taking her sister's hand as they thunder down the stairs. There's no use in stealth now. They don't know what to expect and when that...thing will see fit to abandon his human and give chase, so they have to put as much distance between them as possible. They meet Felicia at the back of the building and the trio use their Hands to conceal the brisk walk to their car before wheeling out of the parking lot across the street.
Hearts pounding and harsh breaths filling the tense silence, no one speaks until Felicia's soft voice pipes up with a, "I...retrieved a notebook. So um. Can we call that a success?"
Ophelia can only throw back her head and laugh, her sister darting out a hand to keep the steering wheel steady as the fit continues.
"I- hahaha!- I guess we can, Lici. Good work~"
Her shoulders drop with a sigh. "At the very least, the High Priestess will be very interested in our reports on this mission..." |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 24, 2024 4:56:06 GMT -5
( I'll come back and edit this when I wake up- and I think I'll write Gluttony's side of things after your post, because I went farther in this one than I expected haha ^^"
I'll also give you details for his memory too!
I was going to have Ophelia refer to Win more directly, but I don't know his surname lol )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 24, 2024 6:27:12 GMT -5
( of course :) just let me know when you feel finished
omg did i not write it anywhere? my bad lmao his full name is edwin leon beck! i noticed i didn't include his age either, he's 26 if that ever becomes relevant ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 24, 2024 15:04:13 GMT -5
( Okay, that's it for editing! Lol no problem! I'll add it to the front page ^^ It probably doesn't matter much either, but mentally/emotionally/physically Glue is 24 and Wrath would be 35. Those are the ages that they were made into eudaemon. Oh, and as for what Win sees! I decided to go with: The setting is a war-torn city. Its architecture is what you'd expect of ancient Greece, but with a technological twist that renders it more steampunk than modern. Here's an example of how it may look. The scene takes place on the steps of a temple-like building with an exhausted Gluttony speaking to a group of five therians in black military uniforms that are russian in nature. They're holding bladed rifles across their chests and listen to him speak with carefully blank faces. His voice is rough but steady, and his body appears stiff with pain or fatigue. His blue eyes are hazy and blood streaks the sides of his mouth. He is wearing his cloak and a golden three-pointed crown with red spinel set into it in diamond, spade, club, and heart shapes. His own black and orange uniform is highly decorated with epaulettes, golden braiding, and a number of pins to denote his rank and prestige. It appears to be in pristine condition while his soldiers are worse for wear and bear a few injuries. His tail is revealed through a split in his cloak, and it hangs low to partially curl around the leg that he is favoring. His ears are perked and swiveling to catch far away sounds, ever on the alert. Gluttony is still speaking, appearing to give them orders, when a bullet fires from one of the rooftops nearby and nearly goes through his skull. He flares his cloak upward to deflect the bullet but is forced to take a step back when the soldiers in front of him suddenly lunge forward with their blades extended. They fire simultaneously and he uses his cloak once again to deflect both their lavender laser-like bullets and bayonets with another step backwards, taking him higher up the stairs. His expression is unreadable as he extends a hand and a scimitar manifests in the air before him. A swipe of his hand decapitates them all in one swing, but not before the last one to die hurls vitriol at him. The sniper falls dead from the roof across the street, and Gluttony kneels over the bodies with his gloved hands clasped. He closes his eyes and black tears slip down his face as he appears to pray. His ears droop to flatten on either side and his tail curls around his body amidst the blood and rubble. I chose this memory because it's one of the last times he used his cloak in battle, was a moment of high emotion, and is an example of the cloak's repeated use. If Win can also hear the scene, I'll provide dialogue! ) |
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 25, 2024 2:43:18 GMT -5
( perfect! he does have some degree of access to all five senses, but not with the same ease as in his physical body and i think in this case he wouldn't be able to parse speech anyway, so no need C: ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 25, 2024 3:33:51 GMT -5
( ohh you're right! Glue would be speaking his native tongue! ;;; )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 25, 2024 9:36:12 GMT -5
( quick question before i finish up my reply, would win be able to see glue when he wakes up? ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 25, 2024 15:32:40 GMT -5
( Yes! His magic was disrupted so he's no longer hidden from humans.)
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 25, 2024 16:15:30 GMT -5
The living room was dim. The light from the streetlights outside pooled on the wooden floors but wasn’t nearly enough to see much beyond the silhouettes of his furniture. It was perfectly quiet, everything in its place. Edwin sighed shakily, relieved. Nothing was wrong. The adrenaline made him jittery still, not to mention nauseous, but it was comforting to see he’d just been jumpy. It must’ve been the same neighbour letting his door slam closed upstairs, or his mind playing tricks. Nothing to worry about. He set his makeshift weapon down on the living room table and was about to head back to bed when there came a quick rap on the door.
Win frowned. Who could possibly call on him at this time? Maybe he hadn’t been imagining things after all. Or maybe he was so sleep deprived he was having repeated auditory hallucinations. He rubbed his eyes hard enough to see flecks of colour dance behind his eyelids. Still, unable to convince himself it was all in his head for a second time, he went to check on the door.
He tested the door, finding it unlocked. As if by the press of a switch, his heartrate spiked again. He’d definitely locked that door. It was the first thing he did after stepping over the threshold and unlocking it was the last thing he did before leaving. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose with a shiver. Before tonight, he hadn’t considered himself a suspicious person. Time to reevaluate that, he thought tersely to himself as he pushed the door open just slightly, fully convinced someone would stand on the other side ready to kill him.
There was no-one there. He really must be hallucinating, or at the very least dreaming. With another, even shakier sigh, he turned to the kitchen. He needed at least one glass of wine if he was going to fall asleep now.
A figure stood tall in the dark, illuminated by candlelight. Win might’ve screamed if he hadn’t found himself suddenly rooted in place. The blood in his veins turned to ice as his tongue turned to stone.
He had just enough time to register three things. It was a woman, around his height if not a little taller. She held in her hand someone else’s hand, dismembered and a pale greenish-grey even in the warm light from the candles in it. And, worst of all, she was speaking to someone - something, perhaps - he couldn’t see.
“Run!”
It wasn’t meant for him, but the sharp command was enough to break him from his trance anyway. Not soon enough. He’d barely had time to pick up his feet before some force barrelled into him, pushing him into the wall as a light bloomed from behind the woman. The room was filled with a screech and the smell of metal, the very air seemed to vibrate around him. Somewhere far away in his mind he noted that the light in the room was quickly fading. Edwin didn’t pause to consider this, instead attempting to press forward. A grave mistake.
His hand brushed against something heavy and warm, and for one terrifying moment the worlds tilted on its axis. Like a wineglass nudged from the highest shelf, Edwin shuddered violently, teetering on the edge of certain destruction just long enough to realise what was happening but not nearly enough to stop it. With a low whimper and a thud, his body hit the floor.
- - -
Edwin's first memory wasn't his own. He'd been only three when he touched his mother's wedding ring and saw his parents' wedding through her eyes. He doubted it was the first time something like that had happened, and he knew it wasn't the last. Non-epileptic seizures had been his diagnosis nine months later.
Before he was old enough to understand what was happening, let alone attempt to prevent it, Edwin’s mind had been split between his body and whatever impression leapt for him. It got worse before it got better. At first, the visions had come for him only now and then, no more than once or twice a month. They’d been vague, more a feeling than something he could see, and they’d been little more than flashes. A wide smile, or the sound of a slamming door, but rarely more. The shift, sometime in his early teens, had been immediate. Suddenly the onslaught was constant. He saw blinding images of the past wherever he went. There was no way to keep track of how often he found himself coming to awareness in a body that ached all the way to the bone. He stopped going outside without gloves.
He’d gotten better at it. He’d done it alone, too afraid to explain or ask anyone to help him. But he’d done it. After school, Win had poured over countless texts in search of one that described his experiences and fumbled his way forward by trial and error until he could induce a vision at will, then until he could control the time he saw. After that it was time to suppress them, which he learned to do by help of every possible grounding technique under the sun. By the time he graduated high school, he’d sometimes leave the gloves at home. Clearly, it hadn’t been nearly enough to prepare him for the sight that met him now, unlike any other vision he’d had.
It was too much. The colours were too saturated. It was impossible to focus his gaze. When every crack in the walls was in such sharp detail there was no seeing the bigger picture, like looking at something close to you with binoculars. The sun bore down on the scene, brighter than he’d ever seen it. He tried, as ever in vain, to shut his eyes against the assault on his senses. If the not-quite-body he inhabited in this space had eyelids, he’d never learned to control them. It had been years since he’d last had to consider which direction was up.
His ears rang. He couldn’t tell if it was external or coming from within. A deep voice rumbled somewhere behind it, though he couldn’t quite make out what was being said. He forced himself to focus on it. Maybe he would never be able to understand, but it was something to hold onto. At least his teenage years had taught him how to zoom out. With an anchor, his awareness should be able to encompass more than the bolts holding together the nearest pipe.
Win turned his head slowly, searching for the source. Every slight movement felt like being spun into the air, but the only way he knew to leave here was to see.
He saw the crown first. It was unlike any he’d ever seen before, so brightly golden in the impossible sunlight – was it sunlight? Slightly on an unfamiliar head of ginger hair, it was partially obscured by alert, vulpine ears. The speaker’s voice was strained, he heard now, though he still could not see who they were speaking to, nor make out their face.
A crack of thunder reverberated through him. No, not thunder. Gunshot. He whipped around to see where it had come from but saw nothing but painful streaks of colour. Slower this time, he turned back, only to find the speaker hidden. A cloak had been deftly flicked to the sky to shield its wearer from bullet and view alike. Edwin hadn’t noticed it before, but it seemed obvious that it should be there. It began its descent, so gentle against all the harsh edges of the moment, but didn’t reach the ground before it was flung again.
Edwin could only just make out the flash of blades and the sound of yet more bullets, but each sound sliced through his consciousness like a razor. The attackers were still beyond his sight, but they were clearly coming from both sides. It all moved quickly, too quickly for Win to truly wrap his still scrambled mind around it. All it did was make him seasick. With a zing everything stilled again, the only sound to follow a final thump as the last of the bodies met the ground. He could finally see them. Five headless forms still clutched their weapons, useless against death.
The speaker, too, slumped to the ground. For a moment, Edwin thought maybe they’d been struck after all. Would there be no survivors? But they clasped their hands together, wrapping a tail to match the ears around themselves. The last thing Edwin saw before he woke was the speaker’s face, that of a young man weeping.
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Being back in one’s own body should be a relief, but for once Edwin wished he didn’t have to experience it. His head felt like it might explode, and every muscle ached. To open his eyes seemed a ridiculous notion. The side of his face felt damp. He wondered if he’d cracked it against the wall when he fell or if he’d been crying – both had happened before.
He stuttered out a groan, curling up on his side. Slowly, he started to take stock of the situation. He was lying on the floor of his living room, judging by the floorboards. It was dark, so nighttime. Had he felt this way before? Yes. Yes, at least he’d felt this way before, and he knew why he was feeling this way now. He wasn’t dying, and he wouldn’t hurt forever. His disorientation lingered, but now that he was in a more familiar place and time it was easy to map out the edges of his pain. There were no serious injuries, though the fall might leave him with bruises in the morning. The pressure in his head was debilitating but he was sure now the wetness was tears, so that too would pass. It was just the aftershock of being yanked out of yourself. The worst would be over in a day, then a few more days at most until he was entirely back to himself.
That was when he realised his body was afraid.
The break in. His eyes flew open as he bolted upright, the jerky movement sending shocks down his spine. Just how he was going to make it anywhere – to his prized possessions, to his phone, out the door - in his current state he didn’t know, but he had to try. As it turned out, he didn’t get a chance to.
Edwin met a cool blue gaze, streaked with blood and looking down on him. He swore loudly and scrambled back best as he could, hitting first his back then his head against the wall. He had nowhere to go and no ability to leave, there was a strange man in his home, and he felt as if his nerves were made of barbed wire. This was without a doubt the worst night of his life.
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 25, 2024 16:20:30 GMT -5
( i couldn't figure out a way to include it in the post, but for reference: usually win's seizures don't last more than half a minute or so, though this would definitely last longer - still no more than a few minutes - & he'd have been almost entirely still, save for occasional twitching of his face and hands ) |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 25, 2024 22:24:17 GMT -5
𓂋 ʚ♡ɞ Gluttony
♡♡♡♡♡
Gluttony had been spending the night as he usually did, seated on the roof of his Trust's building and attempting to see the stars through the smog and artificial lights of the city. Stargazing has become one of his few idle pastimes- he does not consider reading or research something to be done idly, as there is always an end goal to pursue. Nothing can be accomplished by watching the stars, however. They do not move. The constellations in this world do not mean anything. They are merely abstracts drawn by the inquisitive minds of the past, searching for meaning in the immutable sky above. He does not know if he too, is searching for some kind of...message. A reason. What does he expect to find? It's a futile habit. Cor's Belt is nowhere to be found, nor will it ever be.
And yet he has studied these unfamiliar skies long enough to be familiar with them. Wasted time poring over books on astronomy and astromancy as if...what? What is he searching for? It's a fruitless endeavor, he knows that and yet-
Seeking a reprieve from thoughts that circle the weakest parts of his mind like a carrion bird, Gluttony opened the psychic link between himself and his...partner. It's rarely used despite the dubious benefits that it provides. Neither of them want to spend any length of time connected on such a personal level, but needs must. For all his flaws- or rather, because of them- Wrath can always be counted on to aggravate the therian into living in the present.
The continuation of their game provided a welcome distraction, and its conclusion gave him further insight into the eudaemon that still refused to meet any of his challenges. Whether it was sparring or more frivolous pursuits, Gluttony harbors a suspicion that Wrath consistently puts in as little effort as possible. It is utterly infuriating but he tries not to take it personally. It appears to be a rule of his that isn't limited to engagements with Gluttony. The older eudaemon is prideful but not in a way that suggests he believes himself to be superior. Bar their physical appearances, and Gluttony couldn't care less about that.
He still may not know why he searches the stars for a flicker of familiarity, but tonight's revelation would be an acceptable substitute. So. Wrath is more tactically minded than he wanted to appear. Gluttony's strategies going forward will need to be altered accordingly. Wrath's side of the link suggested that he would throw future games in an effort to end them quicker, but Gluttony simply wouldn't let that happ-
He withdrew from their link to focus his attention on the magic concentrated on their Trust's apartment. They are alerted whenever he enters or leaves, and changes in the fabric of the spell can convey the difference between Beck and another human. There were two, with one waiting outside. Gluttony set the books he'd long since given up on studying aside and stood quickly, sweeping his cloak around him. There are no magic-users here to threaten him, but the movement is instinctive. His crown-like aureole shimmered to life above his head when he activated one of its intrinsic spells and was instantly transported into his Trust's living room.
Gluttony appeared closest to Beck, nearly brushing his shoulder as the man surveyed his home with a lamp in hand. His gaze missed the pair creeping through his living room- and Gluttony would have too if the combination of his preternatural nose and ears hadn't pinpointed anomalies. He could smell faint traces of magic as well as the foul-smelling wax of a corpse. There were no footsteps, but something made of fabric just brushed the edge of the sofa. The stench of death was faded, and he could just barely make out outlines when he strained all of his senses. Hands of Glory, then. He called on the power of the aureole to enhance his dulled magic further, revealing the intruders by the orangey cast of candle-light.
They were moving with purpose, the younger one briefly peeking into a room before joining her companion on the path toward the back of the apartment. They were heading toward the study. No ordinary burgulars could use a magic item, so these could only be the witches read about in the Archons' report. Humans with traces of power, clinging to the ways of their foremothers. He can only assume that they are interested in Beck's research. How they know about it and why can be investigated later.
Keeping his Trust's position in mind, Gluttony confronted the women who confirmed themselves to be thieves with the leader's haughty words. She was here to 'recover stolen property'? That was almost worthy of a laugh. He could tell that she actually believed in what she was saying, lifting her chin and looking him straight in the eye. The name she gave couldn't be her real one, yet it was delivered with such conviction that the lie bled into the 'truth' of her following statement.
She was meeting his gaze challengingly, attempting to goad him into returning her intensity in kind so as to distract from the exchange made with her partner. Gluttony's magic extended to investigate, brushing against the hands they hid in the skirts of their dresses. The leader was wearing a number of rings, all whispering of magic. Whatever she had given to the other witch was closer to an irregular heartbeat, incomplete magic that sputtered like a dammed stream. It repelled his attempts to examine it further and he recalled the questing tendrils with a perking of his ears, intrigued.
Gluttony could hear the third thief shifting uncertainly behind the front door, and the one defended by 'Cassandra Cain' hovers closer to move away from the sword defending Beck's office. They were all tense, at risk of acting rashly. His curiosity could be sated when they were no longer a threat to his Trust.
He intended to allow them to leave unscathed to be pursued once they had regrouped, but the witch's little trick with the ring forced him on the defensive. Gluttony couldn't tell what the magic was truly capable of and so summoned a shield of light to reflect the spell. He found his own magic turning against him, however. It met resistance as it extended, rebounding with the sizzle of a thwarted spell. Light obscured his vision as he was pushed back with the force of the collision, angling his body to protect the man behind him and raising an arm to shield him with his cloak. It could only defend against attack spells, but his body would serve as a secondary shield. Gluttony was shocked to find that both spells simply passed over him harmlessly- until pain wracked his body and his alatai were forced to manifest.
The eudaemon gritted his teeth, widening his stance to remain upright when the sudden weight nearly unbalanced him. Biting pain orginated in the feathered appendages and spread throughout his body- a cold so frigid it burned and pricked at his extremities as if he were speeding through an instance of frostbite. He could feel the rusting and deterioration of his alatai and aureole, dark blood welling in the cracks that formed as his wing joints groaned under their own weight. His eyes burned when blood fell from his aureole and obscured his vision, each drop a memory. A punishment. But why? He hadn't acted in accordance with his Sin, he was merely protecting his Trust- nothing he had done or intended could have triggered the Geas...! Gluttony stumbled forward when his trembling legs threatened to give, the movement accompanied by a metallic screech as his wings shifted painfully. He panted harshly, struggling to draw breath into withering lungs. His face automatically froze in a snarl when he lifted his head to meet the bewildered gaze of the lead witch. He could barely make her out amongst flashes of his past, each fragment as bloody as his vision- but her expression was more honest than her words had been. She hadn't expected this to happen. She must not even know what the ring is truly capable of-
Gluttony could hear little more than his rapid heartbeat and the ringing of metal on metal, but somehow he made out the sound of a body hitting something solid. His Trust! Damnit! Moving proved to be a challenge; he channeled his pain into a serpentine hiss as he forced his body to turn, wings lifting and falling to either side of him as he finally allowed his body to buckle under their weight. Gluttony knelt before the human, angrily scrubbing at his eyes with a sleeve so that he could see him better. For a moment, he witnessed a slack face periodically affected by twitching that extends to his hands- before it was overtaken by the image of his mother smiling down at him, taking his own hands in hers and saying- shaking, Gluttony nearly clawed the blood from his face.
The consequences of a Geas are not meant to be overcome, but this bout appeared to be a brief one. The chill remained, as did the spots of rust and bone-deep ache. His every breath was still a struggle, but the flow of blood slowed enough that he could maintain his vision for longer than a blink. Gluttony channeled all of his remaining energy into assessing the wellbeing of his Trust. He could set the...effects aside if he had something of import to focus on. Keeping himself upright with a palm against the floor, Gluttony leaned forward to watch the twitching face before scanning his body for visible injuries. He appeared to be in the midst of some form of seizure, but one without major motor symptoms. Gluttony extended his un-bloodied hand to gently turn the man on his side, using his other hand to haphazardly fold the trailing ends of his cloak to form a makeshift pillow for his head. He was at a loss for what to do beyond that. Beck does not appear to have been injured. The only blood he could smell was that of the aureole's...There were echoes of magic in the air from the earlier incident, yet underneath that was a softer scent that was vaguely familiar...He had come to associate it with their Trust, but there was something different about it now.
Magic.
He smelled strongly of magic, and the purity of the scent only grew as his...reaction persisted. It was a brand unique to him, unlike the traces left behind by the eudaemon or the witches' artifacts.
Before Gluttony could even reach the end of his shock, his Trust jolted into wakefulness. He sat up in jerky movements and Gluttony instinctively moved back to give him room to straighten. Almost immediately, their gazes locked. Cool blue on warm hazel, equal in their astonishment.
He had never expected to be put in such a situation- face to face with a Trust who clearly not only sees him, but sees him as a threat. Beck scrambles away to put his back to the wall, watching the eduaemon with silent trepidation. Gluttony mentally takes stock of himself and realizes that he must appear...especially frightening.
Now that the bleeding has stopped, it is not clear where the streaks on his face or drying on his metallic feathers have come from. He is clearly inhuman, and he was crowding the man against a wall while he was unconscious. The witch had been visible for a time, but in the end she is gone and Gluttony is left in her place. Following a clear case of home invasion. He is at a loss for how to remedy this. The Geas had been disrupted, meaning that he is without any magic until he recovers. And that would require-
{ Wrath. }
{ I'm on my way! What in the hells happened to you? Even I could feel that! }
{ Make haste. }
{ What do you think I'm doing~? }
There's exasperation edging his tone. Even Wrath seems as if he'd been caught off guard. Gluttony foresees that their night is only going to get more complicated.
Slowly, he raises his hands. Palms out as if to make it clear he has no weapons and will not be reaching for any. A small smile curves his lips. Smiles are generally nonthreatening, right? They could be taken as a show of good will. Uncertainty is revealed in the way his ears flatten on either side of his head. Gluttony's white-tipped tail lightly taps the floor at his side, restless.
"I will not harm you." Should he explain himself further? "I merely headed off your would-be burgulars." The fact that he looks like he lost their brief clash smarts more than the Geas-induced rusting of his body. He has accomplished what he set out to do. And he will not allow those witches to assail him again. Gluttony will hunt them down and pay them back in kind. They have done more than activate his Geas, they've disrupted his mission. Normally, a eudaemon could use their aureole to make their Trust forget events concerning them if they were to be discovered, but that must be done immediately after the new memory is made to avoid damage to their brain and other memories. Gluttony cannot use his aureole right now, and every minute that passes causes the window of action to narrow further.
{ Where are you? }
{ I was waylaid by a trio of witches, friends of yours~? }
Gluttony wrestles internally with his next words. { Ensure that we have a way to track them down. }
{ Already on it Tails~ }
Such a decision will make it increasingly unlikely that they will be able to erase their Trust's memories in time, but locating that ring must take precedence.
Gluttony returns his attention to the man before him, still smiling absently. He wants to introduce himself properly, but is loathe to say his 'name', however fitting it may be. He does not have an alias like Wrath. Only unflattering nicknames.
"I am your Guardian Angel." He finally says, recovered enough to draw his wings in to fold them against his back. They move stiffly, with an audible creak, but the rust is beginning to clear up and the blood is fading away. Self-conscious, he smoothes the ruffled feathers that he can reach. Gluttony wishes to fix his hair and clean his face, but he has trained himself out of anxious grooming. Instead, he seeks to change the subject.
"I apologize for allowing you to fall. Were you injured?" |
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 25, 2024 22:27:10 GMT -5
( Okay, gotcha!
Something that I couldn't find a way to include: Gluttony's wings are pretty much intangible when it comes to interacting with the world around him. So they can extend without moving furniture or affecting the walls and floors. The blood also only affects him. When it falls off of him it disappears before it hits the floor. )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 26, 2024 12:35:04 GMT -5
( just as a heads up, with school kicking into gear next week my responses will almost definitely be slowing down soon. by how much is a mystery though lol ) |
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 26, 2024 15:04:15 GMT -5
The back of his head complained at the impact with the wall, but it was quickly drowned out by other aches. Edwin covered it with a hand, more instinct than anything, but didn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him. It took only a moment longer for him to realise who he was looking at. Well. Perhaps not who. He didn’t know this stranger, after all, but he had seen him only moments before, as he was in a different time and exceedingly strange place. A flicker of recognition crossed his features, but he said nothing of it.
Even with how brief his glimpse of the man’s face had been and how slow his thoughts seemed to move, he was certain of his judgement. How many people in the world had such piercing eyes, not to mention the fox ears currently flattened against his head? Ten minutes ago, Win would have guessed exactly zero.
Recognition, however, did not mean trust. It was disconcerting enough that someone was even here. Edwin had also just watched said someone decapitate five people. He’d seemed sad about it, sure, and they’d attacked him first, but that wasn’t nearly enough. Only a fool would think that was enough to make him trustworthy, and Edwin was too arrogant to see himself as one.
Edwin promptly ignored the question of his injuries. He was unharmed, so it required no further consideration. Besides, he was far too preoccupied with why he suddenly had company than anything else. The assertation that he had a Guardian Angel was, like everything else, strange and unsatisfactory.
It wasn’t that he thought it impossible. He’d seen miracles performed and read of many more. Most of his life had been dedicated to the study of unnatural sciences and magic, and he himself could do the impossible. Win was more than prepared to accept the reality of Guardian Angels, and men with furry ears and tails and massive metal wings. Weird? Yes. But he’d made weird his whole life. Whether he was willing to accept it from someone he’d never met before, who'd appeared after a break-in streaked with blood currently fading into nothing, was a different question.
“Why should I believe you?” His voice came out strained and slow, as if it caused him pain to speak. It did. He wished desperately he could hide it, but all he could do to clench his jaw and bear it. This was no time for self-pity.
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 26, 2024 23:06:30 GMT -5
𓂋 ʚ♡ɞ Gluttony
♡♡♡♡♡
Ah. A reasonable question. Even expecting it, Gluttony is not well acquainted with the process of explaining himself. He would much rather focus on the fact that his Trust is still recovering from...everything that has happened thus far. His jaw visibly clenches after speaking. His voice is strained; it sounds as if speech requires real effort on his part. 'Tea.' Is the first thought that comes to mind after this revelation. Gluttony had at some point adopted his partner's policy of associating tea with a cure for ails both physical and mental. His battered body tenses, almost acting on the impulse to rise immediately and see the thought through. He is at an utter loss for how to react to such a situation. Gluttony had never anticipated such a thing- and now laments how he still fails to have a plan for every eventuality- with a mind scattered by the Geas' wrath, there is no clear path forward to be found. Pride keeps him from calling on Wrath again. Twice is bad enough.
They sit in silence for a few heartbeats longer, the eudaemon staring hard at the brunet as if something in his distrustful face will reveal a clue as to how he should proceed. His tail ceases its movements, ears perked forward but for the occasional twitching as they catch the ambient sounds of the building at night. Finally, he settles on, "What...are the evidences to the contrary?" It is a question for himself as much as it is the human. Gluttony has learned the mythos and ideology behind 'guardian angels' in this world. They are not typically pictured as having the appendages of an animal, but he has heard the belief that they could become one if it allowed them to look after their charges better. Perhaps he could borrow the explanation.
He hums in thought, neatly lacing his fingers together in his lap. The sequence of events that they had both been party to are vastly different in how they were perceived. Gluttony must first establish a better idea of his Trust's understanding before he can go about addressing any discrepancies. Hmm, yes. That...makes sense, doesn't it?
The eudaemon straightens, galvanized by this perceived answer to his dilemma. He clears his voice before he speaks, the rust of blood coating the back of his tongue- but he manages an even tone. He forgets to maintain his smile however, and it sits lopsided on his lips. "How is it do you think I came to be here? What do you believe happened tonight?" There are a number of ways to answer those questions, but he wants to hear Beck's.
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Post by Ave Domine Nox Noctis on Aug 26, 2024 23:08:05 GMT -5
( Thanks for letting me know! I understand~ Feel free to just write when you can! I know settling back into school can be a lot ^^ )
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Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Aug 27, 2024 15:48:04 GMT -5
Edwin considered the question slowly, turning it over in his mind like a worry stone. He supposed there weren’t really any, but that wasn’t saying much. He knew nothing about Guardian Angels. All the myths he’d read had been slightly different, shaped by different religions and cultures. The stranger could tell him anything was true about them, and he wouldn’t have anything to hold up against it.
Guardian Angel. So, a protector then. That part of the myths was essential, so he’d have to start there. His life, frankly, had been a series of accidents and disasters. In childhood, he’d had several near drownings, the wheel of his bike would come off while he was riding it, in half his classes he’d wind up seatmates with the guy who thought it was funny to steal and burn his work in half his classes. As he grew up, it got better, but still he found himself in trouble more often than his lifestyle could justify. It could go either way. Either the fact that he was alive proved he really did have someone watching over him, or the story of his life proved he couldn’t – or at least that his Guardian was doing a shit job of it.
Eventually, he found the objection he really had. “Why would I have one? I’m a librarian with a fancy title.”
It had taken too long to answer the first question, but the second would take even longer. He’d seen so little and understood even less. He spoke slowly, long silences passing between each sentence as he tried to piece together a coherent memory.
“I don’t know how you got in. Someone – the woman who was here, I think - slipped in through the door, but I couldn’t see them. Magic, maybe, but I don’t know what kind.” Immediately, he regretted saying anything. Disappointment radiated from his suddenly defeated expression. He knew better than to go around touting the possibility of magical happenings to perfect strangers. Being in an investigative mindset and tired beyond belief wasn’t an excuse. Another moment passed. He was speaking to someone with wings and furry ears. Why would it be a surprise? Still, Win couldn’t stop himself from adding, “or maybe she was just really good at sneaking. You probably got in the same way she did, so maybe you’re also really good at sneaking.”
“There was a bright light and something shoved me back into this corner.” He narrowed his eyes, considering. “You pushed me back.” Someone wearing the cloak definitely had. That must’ve been what triggered him. It pooled on the floor between them, bunched up by their feet. Win snatched his hands into his lap as if he’d been burned, eyeing the fabric with suspicion. Though he knew he was generally safe this close to an attack, all his magical strength apparently sapped, he wasn’t taking any chances. That thing had been a bigger shock to his system than anything before, and he did not need or want a reprise.
“I don’t see why or how any of you were even here to begin with.”
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