GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
It could have been worse. She’d seen it a lot worse than it was at this point. The City of Genil was slowly healing, the strong were rebuilding their homes and stores, but still a sense of guilt ached inside the once proud Elder. She had driven her own people from this place by becoming a tyrant, a horrid ruler and that shamed her to her core. Fear had over taken the desire to protect her home, her city… and she’d left those who wouldn’t bend to her will at the mercy of the things who stormed in after her. Shame withered Crystal as she walked through the streets of her city for the first time after night fall in almost a year. It seemed as if the vampires had had their fill with terrorizing the white city and had moved back out into the darker cities. For that, the woman was thankful. One less thing to worry about, eh Crys?
Crystal felt painfully exposed to the prying eyes of the citizens of this city who dared to glance outside of their lit up windows. Where once she had been protected by the flowing white cloth of the Elders’ robe, she felt small and vulnerable in her worn denim jeans. The soft cotton shirt she wore felt a poor substitute for the regal robe that had covered her from top to bottom, usually leaving only her porcelain face and wide blue eyes, too innocent for all they had seen, visible. Her most startling feature, the fiery red hair that spilled down her back in a solid sheet, seemed too bright in the remaining streetlights, too garish compared to the soft cream glow that had once reflected off her hooded cape. In the night air, she shivered and walked a bit faster.
She’d heard something around the town markets about a new tavern opening up. Now, that was something strange about Genil. Even after facing as much devastation as it had, the city had a way of bringing its people and businesses back together. This new place would signify the beginning of the white city’s rebirth, in a way. Crystal felt almost a sense of admiration for someone who would try to begin again in a place that had once been so desolate. Though the government was not yet rebuilt in this city, the woman with the soul of an Elder felt that she owed the new shop keeper a warm thank you and a belated welcome. There had been a time when Crystal Dinaia had welcomed each and every new citizen into this world. Unfortunately, she didn’t have that privilege any longer. Though, she vowed to have it again one day. It would just take some time… A lot of time, to tell the truth.
Telling the truth… It had never been something she’d had a problem with before. For lord’s sake, before she’d come to this place, she’d been a lawyer. That thought got a short laugh out of Crystal and even a small smile crossed the face that seemed so very plain without it. She wouldn’t be labled as pretty, necessarily, but more of an average looking woman. Until she smiled. In the brief moment that a real smile crossed her lips, Crystal Dinaia could be considered beautiful. But yes… she’d never had a problem with telling the truth. There were times that she avoided mentioning things, avoided sharing problems, and kept large things to herself. That wasn’t lying, was it? Her toe caught a hole in the stained white pavement and her near fall jarred her back to reality. Balancing herself again on the corner of a building, Crystal looked back into the place where she had lived for so very long. She missed the gleam off of the white streets and the white buildings, now hidden by the dust and dirt of neglect. Perhaps now, the gleam could be returned. Her hand wiped a small circle of grime off of the outer wall nearest her. There, as the dirt was cleaned away, a small hole of innocent, white marble shone softly. Satisfaction would come to her, only after each and ever building shone in the same fashion.
Someone had to take action, eventually. Would it be her? Would she have the courage to begin again? The task before her was daunting and could crush her easily beneath its weight. Her eyes darkened when she considered having to do it all on her own yet again. Though, now, she understood that she could. Before, the steps to creating a world had been just that, steps. She had never expected that people could band together to create all that they had had… and everything they had lost. Anarab? Nureese? They were lost causes, she realized now. Before, she had considered trying to help those who had not wanted her help. That, along with the evil in each and every living thing had caused the only world she knew to come crashing down around her. Never again. A man walking with his small son’s hand in his stopped to look at her suspiciously and Crystal felt her face flush with embarrassment. After all it wasn’t everyday that people stopped and cleaned off small parts of Genil’s walls after dark, and took five minutes to do it. The woman glanced at the ground and shoved her hands into her pockets, before setting her lanky legs in motion again, as well as her thoughts.
How many times had she repeated just that? “Never again.” It had become almost a mantra, the only thing that kept her going when the light became dim. Crystal had given up hope, eventually and with that hope disappeared her will to continue on as she had been going. It scared her that giving up just a little could cause everything else to fall down around her. Had she, singled handedly, caused the ruin of her city? No. That was the one thing she could not blame on herself. Even when she became weak, there should have been someone there to stay strong when she could not. Her personal failure was her fault, but the failure of her world was not. If someone had so chosen, they could have protected Genil. But no one would step up to plate when the pitcher overwhelmed them, would they? No. Yet, they still had someone to blame when a probing eye was set upon them.
Crystal’s thoughts thoroughly consumed her and her feet led her on to a place that she wasn’t even sure of. So many of her nights had been spent like this, wandering until she was exhausted and near collapsing before she made her way home. Tonight though, her destination was in the back of her mind. The Blessing in the Flask…The words played softly across her lips and trickled through her mind. A lovely name, Crystal herself consented. It sounded welcoming, warm and rich. Her eyes were mystified, as she glanced at the crowd that had already gathered outside of the tucked away tavern. The sounds of pleasant music drifted from the places and the lit up windows sparkled with the promise that the customers would not be disappointed with the results within. It was the first time that she could remember since before the war that swept through Genil that she had heard laughter ringing from a place rather than the silence and waiting of fear.
Thank you… Crystal’s mind whispered as she lingered behind the crowd, not yet ready to socialize. She couldn’t help but smile as she slipped through the door to the Blessing. Automatically, as she approached the bar, a craving for something flavored like strawberries set her mouth to watering. The excitement in the room caused her pulse to increase a bit and she gazed around, her blue eyes flashing before she took a seat on a stool to the left side of the bar. Leaning back comfortably, the warmth in the room soothed the Elder’s frazzled nerves and for once, she relaxed. Perhaps… Genil would grow again and maybe her effort wasn’t the only one being put forth. Maybe she wasn’t alone in this and possibly, she wasn’t the only one with the will to try again. “Yes… Thank you so very much,” Her voice murmured softly as she took in the room once again. You’ll never know what this means to me…Edited by: Crystal Dinaia at: 6/24/07 3:22 pm
Krysm couldn't help but let a grin leak out across her face as she took in the atmosphere of the now full tavern. Those once empty booths now stood full of customers. The bands notes and voices drifted throughout the place like an invisible wave of cheer, and a few rogues had even taken up dancing in front of the stage. The grin broadened into an all out smile. "I love these people," she thought contentedly. Their pleasant conversations, whole hearted laughs, and free form attitude had put her in a mood that not even a demon could interrupt. Granted, her legs ached from shuffling the orders back and forth to the tables, and her feet felt like they were on the brink of exploding, but for her, it was a labor of love. She made a mental note as she gathered the dishes for the next order to look into hiring some waiters and waitresses if she could afford them. Not only would it give her the opportunity to outsource, but she'd also be giving a few youngsters something to do rather than just hang around on the streets. She placed each component carefully on the tray as she continued toying with this idea. The bread was piping hot and still dripping with melted butter that almost added a glare to the vermillion plate it was placed upon. Next to it stood the matching vermilion goblet, filled to the brim with tonic and gin with just a hint of lime added for flavor. The clear liquid bubbled vividly as the fruit reacted to the alcohol. A giggle slipped out as she hoisted the serving tray above her shoulders and headed out from behind the bar. The gentleman that had ordered this concoction clearly wasn't planning on driving home tonight, she couldn't help but think. She quickly stifled the laughter as she approached his table and sat the tray down. "One order of bread and a glass of tonic twisted with lime," she repeated from memory. "Yes, thank you," came the uninterested reply. He was clearly too into the band to notice the extra effort she had made to make his dinner a pleasant one. It didn't bother her though. There were still other customers to be served and more orders to be written down on the thinning notepad that hid inside her robe. As she approached the bar yet again, she couldn't help but notice a young red headed lady sitting to the immediate left of the cash register. Krysm slowed her rapid pacing to a saunter, trying to make a few observations about her. She didn't seem to be with anyone, and unlike the rest of the patrons, she looked preoccupied. I don't want to appear nosy, she thought, but something was wrong with her. The womans blue eyes startled Krysm with their beauty. They surveyed the tavern, darting back and forth with the speed and sparkle of a shooting star, and although they seemed to be satisfied with the population, something was still missing. Krysms pointed ears twitched trying to pick up what the young woman might be whispering, but her tones were drowned out by the customers voices and the music. The motherly instinct then kicked in. No one's going to come into The Blessing tonight without leaving with a smile, she thought determinedly. With all the warmth that she could muster, Krysm approached the girl.
"Such a concerned face almost seems out of place, tonight, don't you think?" she said softly. Her light hearted humor didn't seem to register with the girl. "I am called Krysm," she announced a tad bit louder as she extended a hand of friendship toward her. "Can I get you something to help you take your mind off whatever might be troubling you? It'll be on the house..."
Re: A Fall From Grace
Not all the booths were full of customers. One booth had only one customer in it, who was sitting oddly resting only one side of his back against the corner the booth made with the wall it was placed against, perhaps to gain a good view of the inn. His green-lit eyes were like an eagle's, paying intense scrutiny to everyone who entered the inn before settling on watching the happenings within the merry place. The red-haired loner had been there at the booth for a long time now, long before the tavern got even close to becoming this busy, sipping a concoction that can only be described as some sickeningly sweet red syrup with some form of alcohol in it, of which he was on his fifth one now but then, he had been at the booth for quite a while now. If he was getting drunk, he never showed it, instead, he remained as alert as ever. Some people had sat at the booth with him throughout this time but after a while of talking they quickly left the booth. Most, he remained as impassionate and cold as the statue he was almost pretending to be, speaking only in clipped phrases to ask questions or ask the bartender for a refill though to some of the people that sat with him he gave a smile and seemed to be more casual in talking with them but even those did not remain there for long. As the tavern got more crowded, people started asking whether they could sit on the booth with him, only to be met with a stony silence and an empty gaze from the loner red-hair, which tended to unnerve most people to just walk away.
Paul sat quietly in his booth, paying attention to his surroundings. And yet, as he payed serious scrutinity to the environment, he was also thinking about the events that led him here. He had heard of Genil's fate about a year after the war, after he had finished one of his usual exploring excursions as he was prone to do, but he had not done anything about it until a few months ago. He had opted to stay out and let Genil decide for itself whether to live or to die. He had to admit he had been pleased that the city was getting back on its feet. But it wasn't until a few months ago, when he found a friend of his from Genil, that the real reason he'd avoided the city became clear to him: he had been afraid. He had been afraid to find out the fate of some of the few true friends he had, those located in Genil. He still was afraid of the pain of loss but he'd suffered it from the moment he had been told by this travelling friend about the death of who was arguably one of the best friends he'd ever had in this world. Thus, ridden by guilt and grief, he travelled to Genil for the first time in a few years and had been here ever since, meeting up with his old friends still alive and grieving over those who had died. He helped his friends as best as he could and gathered information on the state of the city, attempting to determine whether there was something he could do, hopefully without drawing too much attention to himself. But there was something else, something he had seen earlier which caused anguish in his heart at the mere sight of it. Somehow, he had to help them. But how?
He shook his head, chuckling to himself. You can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Paul, and you can't do everything nor make everything right. Maybe I ought'a step back and divide this problem into a smaller problems and concentrate on those, one step at a time...
He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the full tavern. People were busy, bustling about, drinking, laughing, talking. A part of him twinged in longing but he quickly quashed it down and concentrated on business. He flung his senses open and let stray thoughts drift into his mind as his particularly sensitive ears picked up the most different of talks.
//Wonder how much money it took to build this...//
"... and it's them Elders fault, they run 'way when we needed 'em and now they think to just go back an' pretend it never happened?? Well, I'll..."
"Ha! I tumbled her a'right! Best damn lay and let me tell you, she did this trick that..."
//Nothing like a good ol' beer to let you kick back and relax after a hard day...//
//I wonder what that no-good husband of mine is up to? He was supposed to meet me and my parents here with our children!//
"How're the kids, Talu? Everything alright with you and the wife? I heard your house nearly fell today, somethin' 'bout a weakened support beam?"
//What's SHE doing here? The Elders ran away, they should've stayed out of town! Why, we should run them away again to teach them a lesson!//
That last thought piqued Paul's interest as he witnessed the entrance of another red-hair, though this one was a lovely woman with blue eyes which might've been sparkling at one time but now seemed to hold misery in it. Bringing his senses back to himself and putting up whatever semblance of psychic shields he had, he scrutinized the new arrival. The nanites within him acted as, among other things, an extension of his memory, one that was never erased, and he knew he was looking at Crystal Dinaia, the leader of the Elders. His gaze focused on her, wondering how the Elder was coping with the current animosity the populace had against the local government. He didn't place blame on them. Truth was, he didn't really know much of what had happened and the people he had talked to were arguably biased. He always liked to have all the facts before blaming anyone. As he looked at the 'eldest' of Elders, he smirked slightly. Well, this is interesting. Pray tell, what haunts YOUR nightmares, fair dame? Dreams of a broken city, perhaps? Or of mobs calling out for your head? I wonder what your mind is like, Crystal Dinaia, and how much you truly care about this city...
GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
Re: A Fall From Grace
Crystal’s eyes had fallen to the floor in the midst of the music and excitement and her own thoughts were silent, hidden as she tapped her foot on the floor of the tavern. Half note, half note, whole note, half.. quarter note, whole, ha- It took a moment for the woman’s voice to register in her mind because of her small obsession with the flowing music, but almost in a state of shock, the Elder looked up, her mouth half open with surprise and embarrassment. It had been quite some time since someone had approached her with a soft voice, rather than a gruff obscenity muttered about the fallen Council. As she stared at the outstretched hand, she answered softly, “Concern consumes every night of mine, I suppose I don’t deserve for this one to be any different.” Crystal! You loathsome creature, her mind shouted at her and she flushed with shame. Immediately, with a hint of self-reprimanding Crystal stood from the stool, almost knocking it over and shook the woman’s hand. “My deepest apologies. It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Crystal Dinaia of the El-...” her formal greeting was inappropriate here and she stuttered to a stop. “Just. …Crystal Dinaia.”
Where was that so called grace she possessed? The woman had always prided herself on having an exceptional amount of grace and those around her noticed it as well. Nevertheless, even when her composure was shaken, an equally warm smile spread across her face as she took the woman’s hand in both of hers. A hint of mischief mixed with respect swam in her eyes as she met those of Krysm’s with her own. Perhaps, it was like seeing a child aged after the death of a parent in the Elder’s eyes. The need to be free and spontaneous was caged only by the understanding that fun and games were no longer applicable for her. “Perhaps you can get me something, though I promise it won’t be on the house. If you keep giving your drinks away to everyone with a long face, I guarantee you, people will be looking absolutely pitiful around Genil.” The Elder let out a childish grin and thought for a moment about what to order. “Something without alcohol… and I’ve got the strangest craving for strawberries. Tell me, Krysm, do you have anything that could possibly quench that thirst?” As the woman bustled away to fix her drink, returned, gave it to her, then went to serve other customers, Crystal sat alone and traced a circle on the bar.
For too long she had lived with the deepest regrets known to man. For now, if only for a short time, she was going to live for the moment and for the satisfaction of being alive. Crystal smiled softly and glanced at Krysm’s moving figure, her sapphire eyes guarded, and spoke aloud to herself. “If I was to ask you to listen to a story, would you listen?” The bar was too loud for anyone to hear her soft speech, but the words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. Silence had consumed her for so long she was afraid if she didn’t speak up, she’d die once again before letting anyone know about her life before Genil. Maybe, finally, someone would understand. The look on her face was torn between confusion and fear. Why would she tell a complete stranger what lurked inside her own soul. “If I could tell you my whole life in words… Could you lend me your ear for the night?” No… no. People like that didn’t exist for her, no one would listen to her lament, though she had provided support to thousands of people who had arrived in this world afraid, depressed, and tired of living. She was now an outcast in the city she had built with blood, sweat, and tears.
The stool Crystal was sitting on swiveled from side to side and she moved it gently from left to right, sipping the large glass of pureed strawberries and ice, the perfect consistency to make the inside of her mouth cold. The drink was delicious and for a moment, she closed her eyes and merely drew it through the straw, thinking of planting a few strawberries in her own garden soon. The poor thing had withered entirely in the two years she had been held a mental captive by Fedafyr. She asked herself, truly, though, had she been a captive? Would she have wanted it any other way? Could she have survived watching Genil from the window of the Elders’ castle as it fell to ruin? Would she have watched the fires burn and the people flee without growing resentment for them? She didn’t resent her people now, no matter how much they hated her, but if her fate had been any other way, she might have. The demon himself might have saved her from dissolving into a more wretched creature than she was. Suddenly, pain wracked her mind and she shoved the palm of her hand against her eyes. The pain was intense, making her feel as if all of her bodily systems could shut down and that soon she’d collapse. Then, she realized what it was and opened her eyes, almost laughing at herself.
“Ow. Brain freeze.” Crystal’s voice sounded tinkly, like little bits of ice itself, but the pain didn’t stop her as she pulled another long sip through the straw. Feeling like a glutton, her stomach ached as the liquid began to fill it. She finished off the glass and lifted her head to look around the room, her hair falling across one of her eyes in a delicate wave of silken strands. Strangely enough, no one had approached her yet to tell her what a coward she was, something she had yet been dreading. That first encounter would shatter her, but the whispered voices were enough to darken her usually vibrant eyes to nearly black. She simply didn’t know what to do other than to go home to her dark cottage and sleep. Sleep and dream of things no one would ever know.
“Fedafyr, -- isn’t it?—I know what I want, but I’m lost as to what you want from me. I know though, that you would have killed me already if you didn’t need something from me.” "A thousand smooth words could pour from my lips and I wouldn't be able to tell you that, Dearest," "You'll read it to me... You'll read it to me, or you'll scream in a way I have made no other woman scream before." “I want to cripple your heart Fedafyr. I want to kill you from the inside, Love. I want to hear you scream as Merrin did. I want you to cry yourself to death, demon. I wish you had a soul so that you could feel it whither away as Paris felt his die.” Her thoughts were a labyrinth of voices, of whispers of things she could hardly remember, of years she had forced herself to forget. Surely, if she remembered more than his cold voice and the feeling of his claws scratching against her skin, she would fall into a million pieces. Standing up from the stool, she tossed a few coins more than the cost of her drink onto the bar and readjusted her clothing, her eyes wide and more than a tad bit wild.
Crystal couldn’t sit there any longer with the indignant whispers of her own people, the husbands of the wives who she had surely saved from a violent rape followed by death. The demon wasn’t dead, no, but he was at bay and she hoped that he never returned to Genil. If he kept his promise, he would stay away from the walls of the city. Anywhere but Genil was fair game. Even if they rebuilt the White City a thousand times, a murderer roaming the streets could cripple it and send shock waves of fear through out it. They had thought that the droves of common vampires had been horrors - Fedafyr was much worse. Much, much worse. A shudder ran through her as she intended to head for the door. Stooping to pick up her bag off the floor, she nearly lost her balance, closed her eyes, and crouched there for a long moment.
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: A Fall From Grace
Paul kept his attention on Crystal as the bartender, Krysm, approached her. He watched the interaction between the two, silently sighing to himself due to the bluster of talk around him making it impossible for him to manage to overhear the talk between those two and he didn't quite have the grace of skill to focus his telepathy to read only the Elder's thoughts, though he did keep his consciousness open, just in case. Still, he didn't require neither his excellent hearing nor his telepathy to recognize the look of someone deeply troubled by their personal demons.
He was in the middle of sipping more of his drink when he picked up the rather distressed thoughts of the Elder, causing him to almost choke on his own drink. //Fedafyr... I’m lost... what you want from me... killed me already... need something from me... thousand smooth words... wouldn't be able to tell you... you'll scream... other woman scream... cripple... Fedafyr... kill you... hear you scream... cry yourself... demon... wish you had a soul... Paris felt his die.//
The turbulent thoughts caught him off-guard, causing him to gasp outloud when Crystal briefly recomposed herself, as if a drowning man who had just reached the water's surface for much needed air. He shook his head, putting back up his shields and trying to get rid of his headache. But his thoughts easily drifted back to what he had just experienced. Such anguish, such torment! It struck a chord within him, much as he hated to admit this particular bit. He looked up to see Crystal crouched next to her bag, appearing as if something was wrong. It took only a moment for him to reach a decision. It was the correct course of action, he determined, for everyone in Genil and, he had to admit, for Crystal herself, though he didn't really know her. He stood up from the booth, his drink left behind, forgotten, and headed towards the Elder.
He moved his hand in front of her, open as if waiting to help her up. "I'm not exactly good at this, but you looked like you could use some help," he said, words matter-of-fact though his lips quirked slightly upwards, an attempt at a smile even if he was unused to really smile except to those he truly called friends. She wasn't even that to him, not yet, but he was certainly honest in his try to give some comfort.
GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
Re: A Fall From Grace
Crystal’s cerulean eyes opened slowly, still focused on the ground. She saw shoes. Big shoes. Her head turned as slowly as her eyes had opened as she glanced up to look at the voice which spoke, still in a daze from her earlier thoughts. Feeling as though she was being studied as much as she was studying her newly found companion. Biting down on her lip softly as she took his hand to steady herself , Crystal rose to her full height, her legs slim and long in her jeans, only amplified by the heeled boots beneath them. Her eyes were suspicious for now as she wiped her hands on the white cotton of her t-shirt, but she physically relaxed herself and gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry to have worried you, but I‘m fine. I haven‘t had that much to drink tonight!” She laughed softly as she pushed her bag onto her shoulder and moved out of the way of another patron who pushed by her roughly, perhaps knowing who she was, perhaps not. Years ago, something like that wouldn’t have happened.
The Elders had held a position of prestige in the community over three hundred years before the war, their power to rule obvious and appreciated. Now, people could care less about who they were or how they felt. The names were curses on the very tongues of the people who they had watched over. It didn’t matter to Crystal, though, she had pledged to serve the people and she would until the day she faced death again. She realized she was being rude to the striking man in front of her with the same shade of hair as she and she smiled and extended one graceful hand, long fingers and short but groomed nails. “Crystal. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: A Fall From Grace
Paul helped Crystal up and the first thing he noticed were her eyes. The second, was what her hair colour really looked like, up-close. He had never personally met Crystal before, though she used to help those new arrivals to this world understand a bit more of what had happened. He was not one of those because he chose not to, instead deciding to learn about this world through exploration and the people, not the leaders. He'd seen her before, though, either in official public ceremonies or when she was pointed out to him in the streets of Genil but he'd just been one of the crowd and never even once introduced himself. Now, face-to-face with her, he had to admit, she was a pleasant sight to behold. Smiling seemed to increase that a thousandfold into a stunning beauty. Yes, she was beautiful, he had to admit it to himself. Outwardly, he kept his calm countenance with an awkward smile, masking his thoughts. He bit his tongue on what he really wanted to say and instead replied to her comment with a feeble attempt at a joke, seeing as his tone was still distant, careful and guarded, "I should hope that one drink doesn't make you tipsy. It would say something about your ability to tolerate alcohol, assuming that is what you even drank."
He thought nothing of the rude patron as he waited to see if Crystal was going to say anything else, seeing it as pointless to make up trouble where there was none. If the man had recognized Crystal, given the current resentment of the populace against the Elders, such behaviour was sadly to be expected. If not, then he was just plain rude. He simply made sure not to give the man his back as he pushed his way through. He focused his gaze back on the Elder, ignoring some dirty stares he was being given from patrons staring at the two of them that he could see. His head jerked slightly back as she extended her hand to him and introduced herself by her first name. He looked at the hand as if it was a puzzle for a few moments before he hesitantly took her hand in his, staying like that and silent for a few seconds. It had always been odd to even him how he could project an aura of confidence to people he cared little about but was socially awkward when he actually bothered to get to know someone. Now this social ineptness of his was showing through. He hated it.
His eyes had been focused so far on the hand but now he mustered his strength of will and looked into her eyes. "Yes, I know," he replied, still in that calm voice. And then, his eyes held a bit more emotion, his voice was warmer and his smile, though still small and shy, was now more genuine, "My name is Paul. It's a pleasure to meet you too." He gave a slow, gentle shake before releasing his hand from hers, feeling self-conscious at what he'd said. Why the hell did I just tell her my real name?! She's not THAT cute!
He looked around at the crowded tavern and felt nervous and exposed. There were just too many people around. His original plan had been to wait out until there was a more maneagable number of people for him to get out without bumping into anyone but he hadn't expected to see Crystal or even, in fact, to be talking with her. He looked towards the exit once more before turning back towards the Elder, his left hand massaging the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "Erm... If you'll forgive my presumption, how about we go outside? There's too many people inside for my liking. I like my bit of open space."
GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
Re: A Fall From Grace
Hot gazes from sets of eyes bore holes into her back but she did nothing, said nothing. Crystal straightened her shoulders and lifted her head high, her mouth set in a determined line. They were nothing but children, these men. Born into families of Genil, haughty and arrogant as if they had the world under their belts already. Sadly, they knew nothing of the real world except for the war that had waged in the city for under a year. Three hundred and sixty five days of fear was nothing compared three hundred years and a lifetime of fighting in more ways than one. These men weren’t to be reprimanded, though, but to be ignored for they did not understand the situation nor did they need to. They needed to believe that she had fled in fear so that their own terror could be justified and dealt with.
“That sounds like a brilliant idea, Paul,” She answered and pushed back some of the fly away sections of her hair that insisted upon blocking her vision slightly. Catching Krysm’s eye, she caught the woman’s eye and nodded, as if to say that she would return another day when the crowd wasn’t so heavy. As she walked out o the door, a boy that she knew was only sixteen years old, muttered a coarse word in her direction, “Whore.” Crystal couldn’t hold back the flash of anger that traveled through her body and turned around pertly, a flash of hair as she walked to where the boy was sitting in the corner near the front door. “James Cimmerii,” She admonished him quietly, stooping to the point that she was barely inches from her face. “There are a lot of things I am, but a whore is not one of them. Your mother would be ashamed if she heard you talking like a sailor in this establishment, so honor Erin’s memory with pride rather than hate.” Erin had been only one of Fedafyr’s victims.
She rejoined Paul with an apologizing smile and exited the building as quietly as she had come. The streets of Genil were empty and still showed the signs of fire and splintered wood. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she tried to strike up conversation as she crossed the street and seated herself on a low brick wall that had once protected a home of a long gone resident, whether they had left before the war wasn’t obvious. The skeleton of the home remained but nothing more than that and a child’s swing hung from a branch of an old oak tree. “So, do you live here Paul? Forgive me for not knowing…” She said the words as if he knew who she was, as if he knew that she should know him. Responsibility loomed like a thick cloud over the head of an ancient soul dressed in a young woman’s body.
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: A Fall From Grace
Paul nodded at Crystal as she agreed to step outside to the cool, open air. A tightness eased from his chest, both from her agreement and from the prospect of a less crowded place. Growing slightly more confident, he gave her his tiny, uncertain smile and bowed slightly, waving his hands in a motion for her to step in front of him and lead the way out. He followed her out, raising only an eyebrow at the insulting teenager but saying nothing at all. Crystal seemed to have handled the situation well, as far as he was concerned. Once they were out in the blessedly empty streets, he released an audible sigh of release. He wasn't claustrophobic, he just did not enjoy being in the middle of crowds and the crowded tavern had started to get on his nerves.
Once outside, they headed towards one of the many remains of houses that crowded the streets of Genil these days and he stood in front of Crystal as she sat down on the low brick wall of one of the desolate properties. Not wanting to be rude and force her to have to look up at him, he too sat on the wall, though he kept some distance from her. His gaze seemed to shift inward as he pondered her question and how much to say. Oh, Hell with it...
"Nothing to forgive, considering we never actually met before," he stated, his voice back into that matter-of-fact tone of his. It was like a security blanket for him, though he probably wouldn't ever admit it. "To answer your question, no, I don't live here. Never did. From the moment I came to this world, I've roamed around and explored its wildernesses. I don't believe I have anything that might resemble a true home. Mostly, wherever I currently am is home for me. I've been here in Genil for about four months now, helping friends of mine rebuild and seeing what I could do to help rebuild Genil."
He looked over at Crystal for a second to gauge her reaction so far and then he turned away, looking in the direction of the empty swing as he considered what to say, his decision already made that he'd be unusually open with her. His gaze shifted inward as he was drawn into his memories, completely oblivious, for a while, of the real world. "Truth be told... I knew about Genil's fate for a few years before I finally decided to come here. Why did it take so long, you might ask? Simple, really... I'll be the first one to admit... I don't make friends easily... I make very good friends even harder," he said, continuing speaking even though he clearly grew more hesitant to speak about it. However, he pressed onwards, "There used to be... a convent here in Genil dedicated to Grá, the Goddess of Love. When I first came to Genil... I explored around the city, as I was prone to do. I'm still not sure why... but a Sister of that convent... Alemia. She attempted to... establish a rapport with me. As I said, I don't make friends easily. But she was persistent. God, was she persistent... Maybe that's why she finally... 'broke' through my... shell. We became friends. She showed me around the city and... Let's just say she helped me through some... 'issues'. She was my first true friend here in this world. We became best friends. And no," he said, smirking slightly with honest humour, "there wasn't anything more to it."
Paul looked at Crystal in the eye before speaking again, his gaze serious but calm and serene, just as his tone of voice, despite the words, "When I first heard about the war, I feared those few friends I have here in Genil to be among the dead. I didn't want that to be confirmed, so I stayed away, even though that also meant that it wouldn't be denied either. Nearly five months ago, though, I encountered one of these friends and I couldn't avoid it any longer. A few friends had survived, others had died, as I had feared. Worst of all, Alemia was amongst the dead. Funny..." he said, chuckling mirthlessly, "I'm an excellent fighter and I have no qualms about killing... Well, depending on the situation, anyway... And I have no fear of that. But I was so afraid of the pain of the loss of a friend that I chose cowardice and to leave my friends behind. It's one of the things that most ashames me. So I came back to Genil for the first time in years, mourned dead friends and helped the living ones."
His gaze refocused on Crystal as he was once again made aware of the real world. He concentrated on the woman next to him as he spoke his next words, feeling that he should make sure she knew about it, "My friends were the main reason for me being here, but there is another reason, too. Genil intends to live and rebuild and this world needs a city like this one. Just as Anarab and Nureese fulfill their own duties to this world as beacons of, shall we say, 'darker' aspects, Genil is its opposite in that it represents what is normally viewed as aspects of 'light' and 'good'. And this world, and any world, for that matter, requires that. It is a symbol, a powerful symbol, and its refusal to die out after such a devastating war is a sign of that symbol and it deserves respect for that alone. It deserves all the help it can get in its rebuilding, to prove that it can and will 'bounce back', as it were. The Flask," he said, motioning in the direction they had come from, "over there proves it. So long as there's hope, there will be a place for hope and Genil is that place."
"I won't pretend to know whether you Elders are to blame for this or not. I've only heard from the people in the city and you're the first Elder I've talked with, so I don't know your side of the story. I try not to judge without knowing all the facts. Regardless, I DO know that we all make mistakes. Forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds, but all you can do about mistakes is learn from them and strive to prevent them from happening again. As the saying goes, 'those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.'"
Paul looked up at the sky for a few moments as he took in a deep breath, finishing up what he suspected was a rather surprising long speech for Crystal. He looked over in the direction of an alley between two burnt and decaying buildings, more so as not to look into Crystal's eyes at the moment than for anything interesting there. "I hope you realize I don't usually talk this openly even to friends, let alone people I just met. So, if I haven't bored you or pissed you off with my rather long-winded speech, why don't you tell me a little about yourself? Crystal, the person, not Crystal Dinaia, the Elder. After all, you couldn't possibly be more boring than I was. So tell me, Crystal, who ar-"
Paul stopped abruptly and frowned as his eyes, able to see in the night as clear as day, focused on something he was seeing in the alley. A frown creased his forehead as his eyes made better sense of a weird blob he had first detected out of the corner of his eyes, even though a normal human would probably be unable to make out what it was at this distance. But then, he wasn't exactly normal. As he realized what it was, his heart fell and his expression, mostly calm until now, fell into a face of sad shock and grief, more open emotion than he'd displayed up until now. Not taking his eyes off the alley, he stood up suddenly and started walking towards what he was seeing, leaving Crystal with only a quick, "I'll be right back."
As he walked, he shook out of his trenchcoat. For anyone looking at his retreating back, it would have seemed that his trenchcoat seemed to snag against something invisible on the left side of his back but it was only a few moments before Paul had the trenchcoat draped over his left hand, his right hand seeming to press against it. A longsword sheated in a black scabbard hung on his back, ready for a crossdraw, and two daggers, also sheated, hung on his belt on each side of him. But what he was going to deal with, was nothing that required a weapon. His belt possessed a pouch attached to it with a velcro seal which he opened and took a couple of coins from it, placing them in a pocket of his trenchcoat. His approaching steps awoke the person that was who Paul had seen all along and was a little boy. Admitedly, the sight of someone as obviously armed as Paul was approaching him was not a comforting one, but it still caused him anguish when the little boy jumped up suddenly and stepped back, bumping against a pile of trash bags, fear in his eyes.
Quickly, Paul raised his hands up to chest level, showing them to be clearly empty. "Easy there," he said, voice gentle and warm, "I'm not here to hurt you. I saw you from a distance and noticed your shivering." The little kid had only a tattered shirt and pants that provided very little warmth. God! He can't be more than eleven, twelve years at most! He held his trenchcoat with his left hand, stretching it out to the little boy. "Here, take my coat before you freeze to death. My name is Paul. I'm not gonna hurt you or do anything to you. What's your name? Where are your parents? Your family?" he asked, voice soft and gentle. He had a sickening feeling he already knew the answer but needed to ask it anyway.
The boy looked at him with both hope and great fear and suspicion, as if unsure whether Paul was truly helping him or just playing with him, showing him some bait and see if he tried to bite before taking it away. The boy's voice came out small, afraid, afraid to hope and afraid not to hope, "Daun, me name's Daun." His hands reached out to grab the coat and quickly snapped back with their prize. At least, to Paul's relief, he'd quickly put on the trenchcoat, though it was obviously too big for the boy. The sight of the young boy in an oversized trenchcoat hugging himself was pitiful. What he said next made Paul feel like he wanted to break down and cry, "There's no one. They're all dead. My brother died hungry a few days ago. The rest of my family died in the war..."
Paul kept his sigh to himself. God! How he wished he could just take the boy in himself and give him a better life. But he was under no illusions about it. He was no father figure and there were things about him that a young child was better off not knowing. Sending the boy to the only surviving orphanage from the war was pointless, as he was only too aware that it was already full to bursting with war orphans and had to constantly turn away everyone else that came to them. "Alright, Daun, listen. In the pocket you'll find some coins. I'm sure you can go to the new tavern nearby and get some food and drink there. Just be careful with your money, alright?" The boy looked at Paul as if he'd just told him the world was made of soft paper. His hands quickly darted to the pockets on the side and his expression was of surprise and disbelief as he felt the cold touch of the coins. The boy looked at Paul as if unsure whether to ask why or to cry with joy. Instead, he bolted away, heading in the direction of the Flask, or at least so Paul hoped. He didn't begrudge the boy the sudden departure without even a thank you. The money he had given the boy would last him for a few days, if he was careful, and give him a better chance at survival. He would have liked to given the boy more money, which he could certainly afford, but he knew that would have just made the kid a bigger target for thieves, thugs and even other kids just trying to survive. Hopefully, the kid would survive. He wished he could truly believe in that.
He turned towards Crystal again, facing her, though his eyes were tilted upwards into the sky. "The orphans of war. Because the only orphanage that managed to survive even half-intact through the war is already stock full of them, kids line the streets without anyone to rely on but themselves," he said, his voice rising slowly with impotent rage but stopping just short of a shout before he whispered out, "God, I hate it... Something should be done for them... Because as the future of this city, they're grim reminders of a dark past and portents of a bad future."
GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
Re: A Fall From Grace
Crystal swung her feet backward and forward as she sat on the wall. The sound of the heel of her shoe scraping against the rough stone was enough to make her cringe and stopped the motion. Sounds themselves still had a harsh effect on her, as if her ears and become more sensitive in the past months. She listened attentively to the man who said next to her his story sad, but his voice almost flat in nature. He spoke about things that had nearly crippled her as if they were actualities that didn’t bother him. She guessed when one had seen enough atrocities, they stopped becoming so uncommon and crushing. The war in Genil had been one of those atrocities, tearing apart homes, friendships, and families. The destruction had been horrific, over half of the city burnt into nothing but charred rubble. The invaders hadn’t spared lives and weren’t discriminating creatures, they had killed all in their path. Children had died still in the wombs of their mothers, and fathers had died grasping their garden tools. Though the rumblings of an explosion had been starting for a long period of time and though she had tried to drive them out of Genil, their faith in her and the rest of the Council had been too strong for them to leave. They viewed her as an outcast now because she hadn’t succeed in letting them down in another way. The Council had acted as a tyranny, raising living taxes so high that the people should have been forced to evacuate the city and yet, the people hadn’t left. Those who didn’t leave, the true believers in Genil and its strength had died or been maimed beyond recognition by the first wave of attackers from the forces of Anarab and Nureese. And she, Crystal Dinaia, had not been there. They sobbed her name in the streets of Genil for a year ahead of the war and then many years afterwards. And she hadn’t been there.
Why? The biggest question on the tongues that waggled about her had yet to be answered. They demanded the answer and they demanded to know why she had merely ran away from her duty. The people of Genil had no idea what she had sacrificed for them, though it would never be enough. If the war hadn’t happened, she would have been regarded as a hero, a brave soul for venturing to the depths of hell for her people. But because of bad timing and unfortunate circumstances she was a traitor. She should have told them all, tears streaming down her face, she should have told them but could not bring herself to destroy their fears and their hopes in the same instant. She should have told them about the night that the hunter became the hunted.
The people of Genil had not seen Crystal as she had been that night, clothed in black leather with daggers strapped to her legs. She had led a double life for months, she, herself defending the outer walls of Genil as well as its streets with her own strength and stealth. The Elder had lived longer than most of the creatures who tried to terrorize Genil before the war and the droves of them had gotten larger as time went on. She became a murderer of those who trespassed on her soil, her brilliant white land. Slaughtering those who intended to kill her became one of her only purposes in life as the Elder Council fell apart. It was all she could do to protect her people, her children. Humanity had to disappear, along with rationality and all sense of decency, so she made it that way. She became the very animals she despised, then beat them at her own game. It didn’t matter if they had families back in their dark cities. It didn’t matter if they were merely trying to provide for their own. What mattered is that they were taking from her flock, destroying the defenseless humans easily.
One said animal stalked her streets with the audacity to look her in the face several times with the saddest look in his eyes. She hated him, viciously, but needed him in a way as well. She needed Fedafyr so that she felt as if she had a purpose. The fox-demon prowled the white city, raping and murdering women as he pleased, as if it was all a game to him. He didn’t need anything from them, only wanted it. Crystal had set out to destroy him, stalking him back to his lair. If she had known that she had never had a chance, it wouldn’t have stopped her. She had an emotional connection with someone whose wife he had murdered and she deemed it more than saving her city, this was revenge for a broken soul and justice for herself. Her actions had been selfish but the outcome was nothing she could have avoided. Deep in the pitch black rainforest jungle, unfamiliar territory, a flash of stinging pain disarmed her and left her in a broken heap on the ground, poison running through her veins. When she awoke, she was in another world all together, one filled with answers that were more painful than wondering why. Crystal had entered the universe where only she and Fedafyr existed, the past enveloping the present and the future as well. He had intended to use her and kill her as he had the others, to peel the silk away from her body and then, to piece the pale skin, but in the end, he couldn’t. She could remember lying in the bed of a murdered woman, his first victim, with his lips inches away from hers and his claws biting deliciously into her. Freedom wasn’t an option, only captivity and fear, as well as a sense of longing. She had lost every bit of herself in those years trapped in his cave and then, the labyrinth. Somehow, a way unbeknownst to her, she had survived. Somehow, returning to a city that hated her had been divine. Anything was better than the way her insides crawled and heated up when he gazed at her. Anything.
Crystal smiled softly, her face a haunted painting of her true beauty. Her eyes were focused on the ground, but as he finished his story, his own personal tormented days, she turned to him, her eyes wide with the same fear she felt more often than not. “We do make our mistakes, but some are unforgivable.” Crystal bit her lip hard enough to draw blood but the coppery taste in her mouth didn’t bother her. She craved for anything that made her feel like a human being instead of a replica merely going through the motions. Watching him interact with the boy should have nearly killed her and in a way did. She longed for that compassion but instead, felt nothing inside. Being alone for 4 years with trips only made into town to pick up the smallest amounts of food had left her almost completely dehumanized. This was the first night she had spoken to anyone. Even her dog, Oliver, and Lumen had disappeared in the time that she was gone. Tomorrow she would go and look at her office in the Elder’s castle and perhaps she would find a sense of hope there. But most likely not.
When he returned, she was silent a long while more before she spoke. “I am Crystal Alexandra James-Dinaia, born the only child to a pair of wonderful parents. I died when I was twenty six years old in a car accident and faded away in the arms of my husband, killing an unborn child in the process. I was only given the chance to come here, to this place. Now, I wonder if this is a hell of my own making, a story fabricated in the last moments of my death that will last until the end of eternity. I wonder if I will ever truly die, or will I be faced with triumphs and rock-bottoms until the end of time. I am terrified of never dying and I fear death in no way. I am Crystal Dinaia of the Elder Council and I …” Crystal gasped for air, her voice cracking from the lack of use. “I .. am empty inside, a shell of a human being. I live because I am needed and because I have a purpose that I have no idea what is.”
Again, the Elder went silent, exhausted from the outpouring. “About the boy… I have no doubts that Krysm will take him in for the night, perhaps even give him a job. He will sleep in a real bed tonight with a full stomach, which says a lot more than I can say for the rest of those devastated by the war.” Her eyes were full, ominous as she stood up and turned to face him. “Tomorrow will be a new day, Paul. With each tomorrow, the future will get better, if I have to work my hands to the very bone to see that it does.”
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: A Fall From Grace
The silence that ensued for a while after he returned did serve one purpose, it helped Paul recompose himself and calm down. When Crystal started speaking, he gave her his attention but remained stoic as she spoke. As she finished her story, he considered what to say and how much he was willing to tell her. As he pondered on this, Crystal went on to speak about Daun before standing up in front of him. He stared at her, though his gaze wasn't really focused on the woman in front of him but within him, thinking. Finally, he just took a deep breath, his eyes gazing at the ground for a moment before centering back on the Elder's.
"Thank you for your words about the boy. My apologies for my earlier outburst, it was not meant at you," he stated. He remained silent for a short while again before he spoke, his voice soft and now carrying a thread of emotion in it and some uncertainty, "For a moment there, you sounded just like me. Life is about ups and downs, Crystal. Hell doesn't give you reprieves. Trust me. I know." He averted his eyes, looking up at the sky as if it held all the answers. His voice grew distant and this time it sounded truly empty, as if he was purposely detaching himself from emotions he didn't wish to feel, "At least you know you have a purpose. I wish I could say the same thing. I share your fears and lack of fears about not dying and death. The difference is, I know for a fact that old age shall never claim me nor shall I ever die by the sword."
"I am a hard man to die," he said, purposely twisting the cliche, a trace of bitterness edging in that phrase before he resumed his empty tone, "I didn't tell you anything about my 'death' and before it for two reasons: one is that I'm not completely sure I have died; the second is that it is a rather personal and definately not a," and here his voice cracked slightly, "nice story. You see... I know what you're feeling, Crystal. Or more appropriately, I know something akin to what you are feeling. I've felt like that... before. And even today a part of me still feels that way."
He stood up and slowly reached a hand up to try and gently caress the outline of Crystal's face with barely the tip of his fingers. His eyes focused like hawks on Crystal's own eyes and for the first time in a long while, he allowed her to see something he usually hid. His eyes held sorrow, pain and torment of past nightmares that were still so fresh on his mind. It was a look of murdered hopes and haunted nightmares. "You and I share something in common, Crystal," he said, voice straining with some barely contained emotion, "We've both been through personal hells. I may not be the best of friends, and truthfully we barely know each other, but I know how hard it is. If you want to talk with someone who might understand something of whatever happened and can keep a secret, and someone who won't judge you, I've been renting a room at the Flask, and I'm sure the innkeeper will leave me a message."
His eyes widened slightly as he realized just how much he'd said. His eyes fell down to the ground as he took a few sudden steps backwards. He studied the ground as if it was the most interesting thing ever, afraid of looking up at Crystal's eyes. I'm a thrice-damned bloody fool! What possessed me to talk about... it?
Paul felt they needed another topic. The one they were currently on was one too painful for him and it needled him that he had meant what he'd told Crystal. If she came to him and spoke about it, he'd listen to her and knew he'd be replaying his own nightmares in his waking mind while listening. [Painful agony. Needles. Bright lights. Pain. Beeps. Fear. Voices. Terror. Cold. Loneliness. Cruel. Agony. Body. Not human. Change. Pain. Agony. Change. Inhuman. Pain. Blood. Fear. Animal! Pain! Agony! Fear! Freak! Terror! Torment! DEATH!] He shook his head suddenly, his left hand reaching up to his head and rubbing at something. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes were wide and betrayed the signs of shock, his breathing rapid and shallow. Paul closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shuddering like a bird settling his feathers.
"Sorry about that..." he said, voice soft and somewhat breathy. He attempted to delay any reply from Crystal by quickly changing the subject, "You said tomorrow is a different day. Maybe the Elders should discuss building a new orphanage? It might please the Genil citizens."
GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
Crystal stood, pushing herself away from the wall with her hands. Feeling as if her legs might go numb from sitting here, she had the innate fear that if she needed to run from this place, she wouldn’t have the ability. Her hair had fallen into her face, just as it always did, and she pushed it back in a comforting, familiar motion. The feeling of the man’s fingers against her cheeks still touched her skin and as much as she had tried not to flinch, she felt ashamed that she had. No one had contacted her skin since those nights and as friendly and as comforting as the motion should have been, her nerves had been rattled. The exchange the man was beginning to pour out sounded much like the stories she had heard time and time before, but his had a different feeling to it. Just as she was, he was tormented by the memories of what had happened and it hurt him physically to remember. She didn’t know if she could take on the demons of others just yet. Maybe when she was protected in her shell once again she could listen to the people of Genil talk about their deaths without considering how close she had brushed with it yet again. She felt selfish, but her mental state couldn’t take too much battering. The Elder had only just recently found the ability to talk in complete sentences again.
For months after her escapade with Fedafyr, the words would not come to her mouth, only sobs and screams in the middle of the night. Laying in her plush white canopy bed covered with the dust of years past, she could do nothing but weep, her throat aching and her eyes swollen. For the first week, she had done little more than get up to use the washroom or drink a glass of water before returning to the protective enclosure of her bedroom. She hadn’t eaten and might have starved to death if there hadn’t someone leaving fresh fruits and vegetables on her doorstep. The identity of that person still remained a mystery to her, but she intended one day to find out. Crystal had stayed dressed in the same blood stained negligee until she caught a glimpse of herself in her bathroom mirror, hollowed cheeks and empty eyes. Realizing that she could not continue this way, she bathed for nearly three hours, scrubbing her skin raw.
Crystal had also gained the fear of venturing outside of her own home. For the first time in her life here, she installed the locks Lumen had left underneath her sink. Deadbolts kept her inside, but more importantly, the others outside of her realm. The electricity came back on in her home a few months after she had returned, signaling that the rebuild of Genil was on its first tiny leg. The lights burned at all hours of the day and night then and when darkness came, she couldn’t bring herself to look out of the window. For almost two years, she had battled with the fear of leaving the walls of her home and slowly, she gained the ability to go to the market for food and other necessities, but never stayed out for long. The fear still resided deep within her and could be trigged as easily as a sound in the wooded area around her house. She never stayed far from the door and always carried a weapon. Now, two years after that, her fear was more sedate and she could finally wander as she pleased, as long as she had scoped out every exit. It would never be like it had been before for her again. She would never be able to lay on the banks of the Genil river, staring up at the stars in complete tranquility. Crystal would not be able to walk home from the Elder’s castle alone after dark any longer. Her wings had finally been clipped and her freedom was short lived, but beautiful in its spurts.
His suggestion broke through her thoughts and made her hard stone eyes soften just a little. “An orphanage? In all honesty, I could have it built. The people here may not like me, but they do respect me in matters like these. But with everyone fighting for their own purpose, the children would just be living on their own in a freshly painted building… Unless you’re looking for a reason to stick around, Paul?” Her voice was direct as her eyes focused on the man, and oddly enough, she smiled.
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: A Fall From Grace
Paul gave a slow, long blink. The kind of blink that gives one time to process what they've heard or seen. Crystal's suggestion had taken him completely by surprise. It had not been something he even considered for good reasons and those reasons made his face fall. Paul turned his back on Crystal suddenly, not wanting her to see his emotions so openly displayed on his face, not on this matter. His heart ached with conflict. He had to admit that the idea of trying to care for kids, even if only until he found someone appropriate and willing, warmed his heart, despite all the hassle it would probably be. Even despite his own misgivings of taking such a huge responsibility, he'd likely have taken on the challenge were it not for one thing, which overshadowed his life constantly. And that, he believed, made him so wrong for the job.
His voice came out cold and empty as he struggled to leash his emotions, his back still turned towards the Elder, while he faced the blessedly empty streets, "I... cannot. God knows I wish I could say yes, Crystal, but I cannot. I'm simply not able to take care of anyone on such a scale, much less children. And it's not just a matter of the scale of the responsibility, either. There are... 'other' concerns. I'm sorry. I could try to help find someone willing to take on the responsibility or maybe even help with the building, but not what you're implying. I wouldn't be any good to them. These children deserve so much better than someth- someone like me watching over them."
He remained silent and wondered whether he should just say goodbye and leave. Anything to stop her asking questions to which he wasn't willing to give a straight answer. But he couldn't bring himself to just leave without asking at least one more question on this matter. "Are... Do you really think no one else would be willing to help out these children?"
GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
Re: A Fall From Grace
“Do you really think that people here have time enough to worry about anyone but themselves. I’m not saying I don’t have faith in the people of Genil, but I do know that it has been five since the war and orphans are still on these streets, as well as more people than I can count. Genil has never been this way before and I’m trying my best to bring it back to normal. This broken city, though, needs a lot of help.” Crystal wrapped her arms around her as she spoke quietly and gazed at the lights of the shops that were still lit after dark. It reminded her of her own home blazing with lights even when the sun was out. It hurt to realize that this city was still terrified of what could happen and were always on their toes. Perhaps they should have always been this way. If they had been, the war wouldn’t have been half as devastating. “You’re a kind soul though Paul. Despite what you believe about yourself I can’t see anything in your eyes that is evil. Believe me when I say this, I have experience in such matters.”
The night was advancing quickly, the sky becoming a dark midnight blue as stars popped out to fill the sky. The appearance dazzled her, but struck fear into her at the same time. She wanted to be at home, inside her own little safe place before something was to come out of that dark blue mass. A shiver passed through Crystal’s body as she turned in the direction of her home. “Paul?” Crystal turned back to him with a bit of a frazzled look, not wanting to seem awkward. “Would you mind walking me home?”
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: A Fall From Grace
He already knew the answer, of course, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt him any less. He briefly wished Crystal had decided to be just a little less honest and lie to him the biggest lie of them all, that everything would be alright. Why do I have to be a bleeding heart for kids? It was his blindspot, and he disliked having anything that might be used against him. "No, I suppose you're right. It's only one's natural reaction to take care of themselves first before being able to care of others," he said with a tired smile on his lips, though his voice was back to that matter-of-fact voice of his.
His tired smile turned bitter as Crystal continued to speak. Funny, if she honestly believes in what she says, then she's in better shape than I ever was. But he pondered her words, nonetheless, but not because they were making him second-guess his previous statement. No, he wasn't evil. He knew this. Or at least, he didn't think himself evil. And he knew he would try his best to be kind and compassionate in such an endeavour, despite his usual philosophy on life when dealing with matters other than children. But he was too full of self-loathing to ever believe he'd be a right choice to be in charge of anything as... 'benevolent' and 'good' as taking care of kids. This was not always so, though. Back on Earth, before his nightmare started, his goals in life had been a successful career, falling in love, marry the love of his life, have 2.1 kids, a nice house and a white picket fence. And maybe a dog, or better yet, a cat. But that had been then. Before.
He was snapped out of his morose thoughts by Crystal's request. Well, with the rather monochrome clothes he was wearing and the displayed blades, he probably did look something like bodyguard material. He nodded at Crystal. "Of course. It would be an honor," he stated, motioning for her to step in front of him, "Lead the way." It didn't occur to him to offer her to lead him by the arm, but then, he didn't want to bump into her and having one of his arms even as mere support to her arm would slow him down if something happened and he needed to reach for his weapons. As such, his left hand rested on top of the left dagger's hilt while his right arm rested free at his side, ready to draw either his second dagger or draw his sword as he waited for Crystal to lead the way.
GOD
dainty goddess
No, no! GOD
mmm, so cute =]
they're soft, and pale
ignore that comment
*is dirty minded*
Everyone knows that!
Isn't cute.
EVIL SPAMMER of DOOOM
Got Globally Banned
Re: A Fall From Grace
“It’s just that I hate walking in these woods after night. They’re relatively safe, there’s just something about the dark branches that send shivers up my spine.” She’d begun walking with the man at her side a while ago and they’d left the paved streets of Genil. Her home was less than a mile outside of the city, yet, the distance seemed so much longer these days. The Elder’s legs had once been conditioned to walking distances far enough to astound some people. There had been trips she and Lumen had taken to the Shilendel mountain range where they had walked from sunrise to sun set, then woke up to hiking in narrow mountain paths. Cool night air ruffled the leaves in the trees above them as she slipped her hands in her pockets.
“Kids really are a worthwhile investment if you’d like to spend some time in Genil… Maybe we can find someone else to take over the orphanage if you ever get the itch to roam again?” Crystal’s voice was soft as she looked up, finding the moon in the sky, bright above the world. It made her smile to know that there was something out there more than this little place, but at the same time, terrified her that she didn’t know what that was. As they approached the small cut off to her home she turned slowly and spoke again, her voice and eyes very serious. “Perhaps soon, when it is daylight, I can tell you what happened. But only if you’re willing to tell me as well. As for now, it’s time for us to part, Paul. I hope to see you soon. You can always find me in the Elder’s castle. First floor, first office to the right.” She turned and disappeared into the darkness of the night, her hair still glinting in the moonlight, as if it was a stream of liquid copper hanging down her back. She could only make tomorrow a little better than today and for now, this was the only way she could do it. She would win Genil back, even if it was person at a time.
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: A Fall From Grace
Paul merely nodded at Crystal as they walked through the woods. If he was uncomfortable with being in the woods or of the prospect of walking back to Genil alone at night, he didn't show it. In truth, he actually felt more comfortable away from the devastation of the city. His night vision made a mockery of the darkness of the night and his eyes and ears would more easily alert him to someone who wasn't supposed to be there than in a city already full of people. He felt more relaxed in the woods but he didn't show it, either. His eyes kept alert, looking for trouble, his muscles subtly tensed up and relaxed from time to time, ready to draw one of his blades at the sign of danger. He'd agreed to see Crystal safely to her house and he'd do nothing short of his best, regardless of whether that might make him look paranoid.
He ignored Crystal when she mentioned the topic of the orphanage again, under the guise of watching out for danger. His heart ached at it, part of him had hoped she wouldn't talk about it any longer. He wouldn't have been able to stay forever, he was no longer one to stay put in the same place forever, but Crystal had as much flat out told him no one else would take up the responsibility right now. It made him want to say yes. But he knew he couldn't. In this one aspect, at least, he knew himself to be a coward. It shamed him, but he accepted it.
As they approached the cut off that apparently led to Crystal's house, he was surprised at her offer and the seriousness she took it. He uttered a quick "Good night," before she turned and headed towards her house. Her moon-lit hair hypnotized his eyes as his gaze shifted inward to his thoughts, seriously considering her offer. It had amazed him she was willing, nay, insistent that she hear his story if he heard hers. He knew that was something that took a lot of courage. It made his estimation of her rise up even further and the thought of telling someone else about him and what he was entered his mind. He had only told one person the truth about himself and she was now dead, the only one he had truly felt comfortable around, to whom he hadn't needed to hide from. The prospect of having someone else like that was... liberating.
As he once again refocused on the real world, he muttered into the air, "I might just take you up on your offer..." He turned around, concentrating on the road back to clear his thoughts of his doubts and aprehension and walked back to Genil with muted silence in his mind. Sometimes it amazed even him how much things could change in just a few hours.
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