Morning. Finally. With the closing of the deep, yellow, hungered eyes, came the few seconds between the dark and the dawn where the body stretched. A completely illusional-seeming transformation, silent and harmless, that transferred the souls' positions with one another. When the light was up, a very exhausted 6'2" man sat up from where Fedafyr had perched next to the door, waiting to hear her silence, listening to her screams and allowing them to lull him to sleep... something Paris couldn't do all last night, knowing the woman was there. He pushed himself up, pressing himself against the door to listen carefully through the wood and hearing only the soft sound of breathing as she slept. Good. She got sleep. I'm glad. He found a simple reason to smile in the midst of the tragedy that had happened.
The cloak that hung around him shifted with his movements, and he slipped back and held out one white-gloved hand.. the fingertips glowed with the inscription on the door, and he slowly unraveled it. With this spell so simple, Fedafyr was already branching the tops of Paris' control. His hopes for getting her out where dim, but chanceable. And if nothing else, he could give her some helpful tips. The door's spell released with a flourish and a blackening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He reached out and pulled the door open to see her as she slumped forward, barely supported by the frame where the door now left her unwatched. Merrin... Paris coughed and near gagged on his own emotions. So many rode up against his spine, forcing him to recoil and walk away a moment before he turned around. She's named Crystal now. Don't call her Merrin, you idiot. You frightened her the first time... don't you remember?
After the thorough scolding, Paris turned once again back to her, the deep blue of his eyes swimming with emotions they couldn't contain. He lifted his hand and, with a soft word, the blood was gone again, removing the eerie light that revealed it from the room. All that was left was the blood that was truly there--something he would have to find time to clean again. "... Miss Dinaia... Crystal Dinaia... wake up..." He leaned down and carefully shook her by the shoulder, trying to take her from sleep carefully. They didn't have time to waste away. "I'm sorry to interrupt your slumber, Crystal, but we must away. I've many things we need to try... to get you out of here..."
Miss Dinaia... Crystal Dinaia... wake up...“But… I don’t wanna wake up.. Morning will wait.” Crystal’s voice was thick with sleep for a moment, lost in dreams of home and the bed she’d sleep in for years. The white curtains brushed against her face, the pillows that usually inhabited the top of the bed were all pushed to the center where she slept, curled in a ball in an awkward position. Never sleeping with anyone else in the bed had caused her to take on a different segment of the large bed each night, a tangle of arms legs and hair. She could feel the sunshine bursting through her bedroom window and suddenly, her mind remarked that morning waits for no one, it continues on despite the wishes of those sleeping comfortably. Then, the bed shook violently, or perhaps it was just her and her eyes opened wide, pools of deep blue, innocent despite the curses she’d flung at the demon the night before. She saw first the wooden floor she was laying on, then the man crouched in front of her. Crystal didn’t move, transfixed on the hero from her dreams, the man who’d lost everything and still continued to live on.
“Where is he?” Her eyes were still wide as the warmth from his hand remained on her shoulder and she scrambled to a sitting position, willing the gown to be longer. The lace on the bottom of the blood stained garment tickled her thighs, one shoulder strap hung down low on her arm as she gazed up at him. He was much taller than the other one, and yet, Fedafyr had told her something to the effect that they were one, Paris, Fedafyr? One? It didn’t seem possible. Pulling herself up to her full height, her legs felt wobbly, but functioned fine. The door behind the man, the magician was open and had she had more strength she would have bolted skittishly, searching for the way out entirely. And yet, he had said that they would have to find a way to get her out, meaning that there was no way out yet. Her bare feet on the cold floor made her tremble and hunger gnawed at her steadily. How long could she survive here without food or water? Little did the woman know, the next two years of her life would be tangled up within these same walls, the morning a pleasure, but the night full of fear and misunderstandings? Seeing that the fox demon was indeed not with Paris, she relaxed slightly and held one hand out, long graceful fingers with damaged nails, the traces of blood still left on her fingertips from her failed escape effort.
“It seems you already know my name and that I already know yours, so an introduction will be awkward. It is a pleasure to meet you, Paris Musuko. If only the conditions were more favorable,” inside, she scoffed at her attempt at civility but knew it was the only way to keep herself sane. Her eyes gazed at him, holding her admiration inside. Falling for a man connected to that creature was beyond her regulations of a sane relationship. Crystal closed her eyes momentarily to wash away the strange feelings that swam within them, the memory of the kiss she’d shared with the same demon who held her here, and the fact that he had kissed her with the same eyes this man had. Confusion, fear, and hope mingled in a pitiful cocktail in her mind, poisoning her veins as lethally as any alcohol could ever boast. Opening her eyes again, she took a step backwards and turned to examine the room now in the daylight. “You said something about getting me out of here? Are we both prisoners, Paris, or is there something I’m not understanding here?”
She didn’t want to hear the truth. This man in the room with her was her self proclaimed angel, wings and a tattered soul. She’d come here to avenge him as much as she’d come here for herself and an almost giddiness rose up inside her body. Dreams had done him no justice, the soft voice, the pain etched so easily into him, and she was almost overwhelmed. To hate one and adore the other? The justice in that was so misconstrued that she, herself, couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Turning back to him, her eyes tried to absorb him all at once but failed, she didn’t truly know him, she only knew his story. She could not take the place of his Merrin but perhaps, one day, she could forge her own relationship, romantic or otherwise, with this hallowed soul.
"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: Deceitful Hope, Day 2 [01-07-305]
He smiled a sad smile in response to her whimperings of not wanting to wake, and he fully understood the feeling. A brief flash of a time when Merrin would beat him mercilessly with a pillow when he was putting off one of their engagements went through his mind, a sadness swelling in his eyes that belied his courage and broke his heart. As she woke, she stared at him, and he found it difficult not to destroy his sanity and just take her back with him, his Juliet.. but there was no way he'd wish that on someone, even if the selfishness inside of him screamed for it. As she spoke, she lifted her battered fingers, and he grasped her hand gently to lift her to her feet while she asked her questions, silent and waiting for each one to spill forward. His soft blue eyes stared at the huge ballroom that was his livingroom. The cave was still frighteningly cold, though, and he slipped from his shoulders the cloak around him and wrapped her in it.
"This should keep you warm," And only appropriate it should be returned to you, My Love. "I'm afraid I've much to tell, and the twelve hours of my chance have yet dwindled away three of them in the very meeting of you. I confess, I had a problem waking you--I wanted to hope that if I willed it, you would merely fly away. Appear on the other side of the walls." After she had donned the cloak, he pulled her along the soft red carpet, willing that she didn't stare too hard at the eyes of gold that surrounded it. He'd no idea when it had appeared here, but it had, and it would serve to cause her more grief than joy if she contemplated it overmuch.
"Down this hall is no escape, but I've truly no idea where else I might find it. To ascend the stairs is hopeless... Allow me now to explain myself," He turned, uneasy stepping on the eyes of the red carpet as he leaned into the wall and stood there looking at the ground as if he had some deep, dark, confession to make, "I am a prisoner.. of my own accord. When I.. came to this world, I hid myself here, closing the cave so that I could not escape. I sealed it with magic that I burned away, never looking at the antidote spell so that ... I thought... he could not get out, either." Paris' shoulders dropped, the sadness welling up and overflowing around him in the form of a small, sarcastic cloud that seemed to be appearing over his head like a bad cartoon.
"I strengthened them when I first saw you. By the riverside--that was the first knowledge I had that he could leave. When he is awake, I have never been awake, except that split moment, and tonight, as I watched over you to keep him from harming you. I'm very tired, though. He can sleep--no reason to be awake while I am here. He's got no fear of you getting away, because I am weak and useless." Paris slumped to the ground, the little cloud raining on his head but never actually dampening him, Paris clutched his legs to him, "The truth is, there is naught to do tonight but tell you how to survive... because unless some miracle happens, only he can open the door...."
Re: Deceitful Hope, Day 2 [01-07-305]
Crystal shouldn’t have noticed the texture of the gloves so much, the heated warmth of his skin underneath them. The Elder watched him, only catching glimpses of the surroundings that chilled her even worse than the temperature in the cave. Somehow, her fingers had become entwined with his as they moved around their mutual prison, an unwilling one for her, but a godsend for him. She pitied him, hating that she couldn’t break the feeling inside her but still glad to know that she could feel anything at all. As he spoke, she stayed silent, the cloak closed around her body, making her feel small and for the first time in the past days, protected. Was this man really her savior after all? He’d protected her from the demon who’d stalked her city streets, whose claws had touched her skin, who she had angered greatly the night before. Crystal swallowed hard as he finished speaking and lowered herself to her knees next to him, reclining backwards slightly. Brushing his hair back from his forehead slightly she smiled, not her transforming smile, just a small, mild one and then bit down on her lip.
“If only he can open the door, I suppose I’ll have to give him a reason to do so. Don’t give up hope, please, it’s simply a matter of figuring out what he wants and how I can align his wants with my needs.” Who was she to speak these words so light, so hopeful to the man? Her city was crumbling around her, falling to pieces against the very bricks she’d helped lay. Little did she know, it would be entirely destroyed by the time she arrived back in the city gates, but Genil didn’t occur to her now, only the moment at hand, only surviving. She didn’t feel like the sobbing woman who had laid stretched out upon the floor earlier, no, she felt somehow stronger. It was amazing what a glimmer of hope in a sea of darkness could provide. This man, Paris, was her guiding beacon whether he thought himself useless or not. When this place was far behind, she would miss him, and she knew that in her soul.
“Tell me how to survive then, because without your help, the chances look slim.”
"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
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