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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 9, 2012 16:31:43 GMT -5
“So... Ye’re awake,” drawled a decidedly raspy baritone from the far end of an inn's sleeping quarters.
Near a curtain-drawn window sat a man in a wooden chair; or more so, he was balancing the chair on its rear legs whilst his own were propped upon a small table. There was a knife was in his right hand, one which he seemed to be using to clean the grit from under the fingernails of his left. While the fingernails themselves were slightly longer than was was normal for men, the way in which he groomed them seemed to done more out of boredom than by a need for cleanliness or aesthetics. He had missed some spots, and his nails were a bit chipped, to say the least.
Near the man’s feet rested a short, curved saber whose hilt was carved a shape that resembled a serpent’s head. Next to that, a set of riveted leather armour consisting of a half-gauntlet with clawed knuckles, a bracer, a couter, and a single spaulder--all of which looked like they were meant to be worn on the left arm and hand. There was no right-side set. As for the way in which the man was seated in such a leisurely manner--with his armor discarded whilst balanced precariously on the tilted chair--it suggested that he was either foolishly underestimating the danger of the other presence in the room, or he was extremely confident in his own ability to confront any threat that might arise.
The man himself was clad in what looked to be travel-worn trousers of a dark brown color. While his shins were wrapped in leather greaves and cord, his sandaled feet looked surprising bare by comparison. As with his fingers, the nails of his feet also ran a little long--almost claw-like in appearance. A scale cuirass adorned his torso. Atop that, he wore a cloak of a dark, but faded, blue--the hood of which had been drawn over the man’s head, casting his face into shadow. Save for a few bandages wrapped about his wrists, his arms were mostly bare, revealing a working of pale tattoos against darkly tanned skinned. The design of the tattoos held lineart intermixed with what looked like some indecipherable form of glyphic script. The markings were of a peculiar kind of patterning that held an almost mystic quality--as though the tattoos might have derived from the texts of a grimoire.
“I daresay,” the man continued after a moment’s pause, “I am surprised ye live.” As he spoke, his voice beheld the low and quiet kind of huskiness that suggested he had been exposed to a great deal of smoke throughout his life. It made him sound old, perhaps more so than his actual years, if the careless manner in which he perched the chair was anything by which to judge. “Itas nah often someone washes up from th' depths o' Daveyas locker wit' his breath still intact. One has got t' wonder how a man could manage that, at all, hmm?”
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Exdeath
Tonberry
All returns to the Void...
Posts: 44
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Post by Exdeath on Jul 9, 2012 16:37:05 GMT -5
There was only darkness. Just inky black darkness for the fallen angel. It was almost like being born again as Sephiroth awoke to a barrage of water; frantically looking about for something to hold onto. Somehow in the merge he was ripped from the life stream and recalled nothing of his former life. When his body was forced from the Life stream into this new collaborated world, his connection to the stream had left him bereft of his memory which lay dormant now. Everything he was and all he worked with came from the Life stream. He intended to use it to his will in his 'previous life'. With such a strong attachment it was hard to remove his physical form even still. Thus his memories were locked away and left nothing to even hint at his own identity. He attempted to call out but nothing happened; his voice was arrested for a moment by the initial shock of his own predicament. In minutes the overwhelming current dragged him toward a body of land to the south. It was the Kingdom of Fabul; an ancient land ruled by Monks and unbeknownst to him was recently rebuilt after a horrible tragedy. Consciousness failed him as his eyes closed in exhaustion. The sands north of Fabul cradled his form as the tide gently washed over him. It was days later that the ex-SOLDIER awoke to the sight of an ornate Inn room; no clue as to how he managed to reside there. The rustic and old furnishings made him feel like he was in the country-side somewhere; but he didn't know what to think. After being gone for a while things could have changed in any way.
It was immediately known to him that there was another figure in the room. The handsome pale gaze rose to that of the shadowed face before him with slight alarm and a regard for the demeanor in which he acted. A rough-edged local who must have had some hand in his rescue. They were alone in the large open area ridden with beds all up and down the north and southern walls.
Sephiroth pulled himself up as his exposed upper body met with the cold furnished wood of the headboard. It was a shocking feeling after laying so comfortably for a time. Bandages covered his torso as they seemed to follow a wound that crossed his sculpted chest. The beautiful green eyes gazed about in silence for a moment before he regarded the stranger who spoke to him. The accent was unknown to the SOLDIER and seemed rather 'full-hearted'.
A struggle ensued as he tried to find his voice. A feeling of helplessness took over him as he suddenly struggled to remember how he got to this position. Lips parted as the smooth monotonous voice seemed to carry an eery tone despite his internal conflict, "I.....I don't know...who are you?" A look of bewilderment reached out to the hooded man hoping the answers he needed were in his knowledge. Where did he come from? Where was he? Most of all WHO was he?
As he turned on the bed; he immediately noticed something very different. Leg guards of an ornate black and gold design covered his shins and suppressed the black pants over his legs comfortably. Integrated into the pants were hardened black leather sandals which were clipped to the shin guards for a solid step. Last he remembered he had no such attire. "Where did I get this?" Muscles flexed in his legs as he heard the leather sandals creek with sudden force. The ex-SOLDIER rose to his feet, stumbling slightly under his own frame after being off his feet for so long. His left arm whipped to the bed frame as he steadied slightly. The plush carpet beneath him made for an interesting cushion as he took his first few steps since being spawned in this mysterious place. The distant sound of a foreign song could be heard in the next room as the Inn-keeper busied herself with daily duties.
Assumptions filled his mind as he realized this man must have saved him from the water somehow. Intentions seemed foggy as of yet for the goal of this man. Was he just trying to help or did he expect something in return? In truth he had nothing to offer him as he couldn't remember if he owned anything worth having. "I'm sorry....for taking up your time. I just don't remember much." The smell of food wafted into the room as the Inn-keeper prepared some sort of unique meal. A low grumble moved from the pit of his stomach to his lower chest as the apparent hunger made itself known. Sephiroth's head lowered slightly at his precarious position; like a lost child starting from scratch.
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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 10, 2012 15:38:01 GMT -5
The man’s head shifted, and the opening of his hood turned in Sephiroths direction. Silhouetted against the backdrop of the room’s partially-drawn window, and with the room much dimmer by comparison to the light streaming inward, the man’s face was completely obscured by shadow. The only part that could be seen was that light that reflected off his eyes--much like that of a wild animal at night. He sat there, in silence, listening and watching as the former SOLDIER stumbled from the bed. The man’s gaze followed Sephiroth’s movements with a kind of luminous intensity that could be likened to the creepily watchful gaze of a black mage.
By the time Sephiroth has settled into his feet, the darker man had ceased picking at his nails with the tip of his knife. It was then that the man broke the stare, and gave his knife an expert flip before catching the hilt firmly in the grip of his hand. He kicked his feet off the table, and the chair fell back to all four feet with a dampened thud against the carpet. After standing, he took a moment to swiftly sheathed the small blade into a holster that was still tied around the man’s upper right thigh. He then took three steps around the table only to stop, again, at the side facing the open room. Leaning back, he crossed one ankle over the other as he let the table support his weight. His hands came to rest near his waist, thumbs hooked in the leather band of his belt. It was a posture both casual and open, yet deceptively so, for not far from reach was his small weapon.
No longer silhouetted by the window, the room’s light was finally able to fill in the shadow of the hood, revealing the face of a man quite young in appearance--barely past adolescence. And, while it was a face that looked human enough, there was something about his features that, like his nails, were not quite...
At Sephiroth’s apology, the man shrugged dismissively.
“Call me Rakesh,” he simply stated instead, by way of introduction. “And...” he drawled as a slightly mischievous smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, “As fer time, that be fer me t’ give as I warrant... Ye took nothing.”
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Exdeath
Tonberry
All returns to the Void...
Posts: 44
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Post by Exdeath on Jul 10, 2012 16:04:23 GMT -5
Sephiroth raised his eyes to the hooded man as he repositioned himself suddenly. A distant bit of intuition gave him a feeling that this man wasn't all 'nice and rosy'. The carpet squashed gently as he side-stepped slightly to get a better look at the man or whatever he was before him. The slit of sunlight that pierced the Inn room shone upon his silvery hair in a slight brilliance, accompanied by the illuminated orbs that remained fixed unblinking. Approaching footsteps could be heard from just outside the room; clanking slightly upon the wooden floors that cover the hallway.
The raspy-voiced man spoke in slight mystery as he merely answered his last question. Wonder if it was merely out of annoyance or lack of interest? His composure seemed to finally regain itself as a familiar yet unknown sensation began to ebb at his guard. Now as the fallen angel spoke there was a new drive behind his voice and carried the eerily smooth tone easily throughout the surrounding room. "I am..." It was then that he realized something that had failed to be grasped fully. His own name was unknown. Quickly he evaded the introduction. "If it was you who pulled me from the seaside, then I thank you for your help. Where am I?"
Sephiroth turned toward the window as his slow and confident step resumed. An elegance that was almost inhuman seemed to befall his demeanor and give an almost self-righteous royalty that would make even the sharpest of Baron's second guess their manners toward him. Arms rose to slowly move the curtain aside as he gazed out upon what looked like a recently inhabited wasteland. To the left of this 'portrait' before him lay the large walls of a decrepit castle that seemed to have experienced a war not too far in the past. New structures and homes were being erected all around by a very unique people. They seemed reserved and silent in their movements as well as their communicating. None of them at first glance seemed similar to the stranger in this very room.
Sephiroth lowered his arms as he continued to look out upon the construction. "I take it you're not from around here originally..." They must not be so cautious with strangers surprisingly; with such a war-torn scene before him. Not one shred of awareness even considered the magnitude of the merge and the many stories and past glories with fallacies that now crammed into this existence. Attention turned to the leggings clad upon him with a slight wonder. It was a perfect fit to be honest and seemed sturdy yet light. At this chance he began to examine his own arms and torso as if searching for some clue as to his memories.
Suddenly a very different voice seemed to fill the air with a low confident laugh, "I will....never be a memory..." A swift turn and surprised gaze later and the Ex-SOLDIER finally realized why the voice had a familiar tone. It sounded like him. Was it in his head? "Did you....hear that?" A shrug seemed to play off his surprise as he looked around quickly for something to wear upon his torso; if there should be, that is. Again without warning the same ominous voice pulsed through his very brain, "Am I.....a Monster?" Frustration began to mount as he couldn't readily explain this occurrence; deciding it better to remain silent of the matter.
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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 10, 2012 17:00:29 GMT -5
“This place... They call it th’ Kingdom o’ Fabul.” Rakesh answered when the silver-haired man asked about their location. He made no comment toward whether or not is was him that helped the other from the seaside, letting the other draw his own conclusions for now.
Instead, he remained silent as he leaned against the table, and continued as such while the silver-haired man approached the window to look outside. Rakesh watched the other from the corner of his eyes. The man seemed out of sorts, to his gaze. Hardly something to be surprised about, given the circumstances by which the pale man was found. Still, the man looked to be striving to make quick efforts to regain his wherewithal and ascertain a grip on the situation in which he found himself.
As the pale man moved across the room and stood before the window, Rakesh noticed he held himself with a particular kind of posture--a certain way of walking and standing that reminded Rakesh of the regimented mannerisms of a higher ranking imperial. A military man, mayhap?
When the pale man asked about his origins, Rakesh merely gave an affirmative grunt. Then, when asked the second question, he inclined his head--with a stilted tilt to the side--and listened.
In the next room, there was the woman preparing the afternoon meal. Outside, the sound of townspeople going about their daily business... A dog barking as it chased a squirrel... The repetitive percussion of hammers... The creaking of wooden floorboard under footsteps... Birds chirping in the broughs of the trees... The crash and roar of ocean waves... The ebb and flow of the shoreline waters... And under it all, the distant whispers he’d known his whole life, but whose words he had never quite been able to understand.
Suddenly overwhelmed by the cacophony of sound, Rakesh lowered his head with brows furrowed and eyes shut tight in a near grimace. He cleared the back of his throat, and said, not without a slight strain to his voice, “I hear many thin’s. T’ which are ye referrin’?”
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Exdeath
Tonberry
All returns to the Void...
Posts: 44
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Post by Exdeath on Jul 10, 2012 19:03:32 GMT -5
Sephiroth hesitates at his rebuttal. Again he attempted to avert from the strange circumstances. "Never mind. Is there perhaps anything I can wear?" His eyes continue to scan but to no avail. The silence was deafening and strange to say the least. In a continuation the SOLDIER made an inquiry. "So Rakesh....tell me about yourself." After his futile search, he turned to the door leading out into the hallway. As he reached for the handle it opened in his face to reveal the old lady who ran the Inn apparently and the hum of her song now had no barriers as the easy tune became sharply known.
The woman seemed surprised at his presence and bowed slightly in greeting before saying something in a language form that was not within his knowledge. A tray of odd cuisine lay in her grasp and held a unique and exotic smell. Kingdom of Fabul huh? No memory to obtain from this it would seem; this was all of an alien nature. After the greeting she bustled past him, placing the tray on the night table beside the bed he had risen from. Her long red dress was decorated in jewels and gold lining like an eccentric gypsy. Never did her smile fade as she seemed to shuffle her feet quickly beneath the floor-treading fabric.
As she continued her chores, Sephiroth nodded to Rakesh. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion in a more lively place?" His trust of this stranger was still timid at best. Not a single inch of happiness or welcome nature seemed to come from this being. A public place with more witnesses may make things a bit more secure. The lost man made his way down the hall; still ill-dressed and without a care. His face remained stalwart and unmoving despite the lack of understanding. A group of odd-looking men came around the corner in complete silence and stopped at the sight of him. They said nothing and simply remained wary of him as they moved aside in the hall. More and more he was being bombarded with so many cultural situations and new people whose faces were unfamiliar in every way.
What happened to his memory? Answers were his only chance now. Someone out there had to recognize the 'husk' walking about. The lobby opened up wide before him as he rounded the corner; immediately receiving stares from both the desk-worker and the people drinking at the attached tavern in the next inlet. Silence again seemed to take the breathe right out of this establishment. It was frustrating to feel so alone and lost but he never showed it. "I have to find out....who I am..."
With a quick double-step, Sephiroth pushed open the large wooden doors that led out into the mysterious land. His left hand rose to cover his eyes as the full might of the mid-day sun raked over him and flooded the counter behind him. Dust that was disturbed by his movements whirled into the air, floating about slowly in the rays of light. Green eyes stare in wonder over the small bustling town before him and the green vast forests beyond that seemed to stretch off to the south, well over the horizon. This would not be easy starting all over in a land like this. It seemed so primitive to his gut senses.
He had already hardened to the quirky stares from the locals as the armored feet finally stepped easily upon the dirt road. Warmth coursed through his body and felt invigorating after who knows how long in the Inn. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.
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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 10, 2012 20:20:21 GMT -5
Rakesh did not immediately follow the pale man as he departed the room.
Rather, he first set to the task of equipping his discarded armour. Starting with the spalder, he made quick work of securing the straps before moving downward to replacing the couter and bracer. The next order of business was securing his sword-belt into place--he saved the half-gauntlet for last.
All the while, he tracked the other man’s heavy footsteps with his keen hearing. His ears twitched under the restraining confines of his hood, and he itched to remove the covering. Yet, for now, his desire to avoid any undue attention outweighed the need for that comfort.
Once his armour was secure, he made his way out from inn’s room. His steps were slow and leisure, as he took his dear sweet time strolling the halls. As he walked, there was a slight bounce to his step as he moved--though not of the jovial variety. It looked more like the lightfootness of one who walked on the balls of his feet, rather than from heel to toe.
Eventually, Rakesh made to the front entrance. He came to a stop behind the pale man, who was standing in the doorway, hand upraised, apparently shielding his gaze from the son.
“Ye mentioned wantin’ somethin’ t’ wear? I reckon that thar ought t’ be a clothier somewhere around here...” Rakesh trailed off then, running his gaze over the other’s appearance, before adding, “Yet, somethin’ tells me you ‘ave nah th’ coin needed t’ make such an acquisition.”
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Exdeath
Tonberry
All returns to the Void...
Posts: 44
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Post by Exdeath on Jul 10, 2012 21:37:44 GMT -5
Sephiroth lowered his hand as he heard Rakesh quietly come out behind him. For some reason this being seemed somewhat intrigued by the SOLDIER or something else perhaps? At the mention of 'coin' he had another strange revelation. His form turned to him as he began to question this new world. "I must admit you're right. I should look to start somewhere at earning pay. But again I don't know any locals."
Still his questions were avoided and it too was frustrating. Eyes narrowed slightly as he started a slow pace toward the east; fists cracked slightly as an unknown feeling came over him. His voice lowered as his persona seemed to waiver for a moment into a confident and ominous state. "Why are you here Rakesh? I understand you may very well have saved me.....but to what end? You seem a bit out of place here; I wonder what brings you to a kingdom like this...following me just as 'they' did once..." A moment of weakness shone through as he seemed to gasp suddenly as if something invisible released him.
Hands shook with nervous intent as he stared at them in disbelief. "What just happened...?" No recollection came to him of what just happened. Immediately after he straightened up as he continued toward what seemed like the market ahead. His voice drifted back, "So you never told me about yourself Rakesh..." Oblivious to any of the conversation that took place, he kept moving forward. Someone in town must know of him. Anyone.
As he approached the uphill entrance to the structured marketplace; a few of the street vendors yelled out their wares and flung about odd and exotic items to their consumers. The clay arches that lined the entire perimeter looked ancient in age. It was like a blast from the past as hooded figures and robed creatures went to and fro. One could blend in; unless of course you were pale and half naked.
Many of the patrons pointed and whispered at him in half curiosity; half fear. Some stood and gawked whilst others turned instantly and ran. For such a busy marketplace they seem to not welcome outsiders. Then he realized something he almost forgot. When he first came to he was dressed from the waist down in something else. But what was it? Perhaps it may hold clues as to his origins. Sephiroth turned at that very moment to inquire. "My clothing that I had on....do you know where it went?"
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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 10, 2012 23:41:54 GMT -5
Rakesh stepped into pase alongside the pale man, leading an ear as the other plowed through question after question, nary giving time for a response before he continued talking. So silent Rakesh remained as the man talked, until the pale man accused Rakesh of following him like ‘they’--whoever they were--did. That earned a stirring of annoying in the half-viera’s gut, for he certainly did not follow any hume.
Then he heard a gasp, and Rakesh directed a bemused glance toward the pale man.
Something seemed more than off about the man, especially when the man was staring at his hands in disbelief and muttering questions about had just happened, before proceeding on as though nothing had happened, at all. It was a weird behavior, weird enough to cause Rakesh to pause in his own steps as the pale man continued walking forward. Rakesh regard the man’s retreating back with a wary look, evaluating just who this was that he’d, on a whim, decided to pull out of the waters rather than just let the man drown--not to mention footing the bill while the man recovered under the Innkeeper's tender care. Rakesh, for one, had seen his fair share of madmen in his young life, and he had little patience for them. If this stranger started proving to be more trouble than his limited graciousness could handle... Then again, the pale man seemed to be suffering some sort of injury, possibly head trauma, if the man's apparently dodgy memories were to be any indication. In light of that, he supposed that he should probably give the stranger some leniency regarding any immediately forthcoming... oddities. After all, he had taken it upon himself to help a man in obvious need. He might was well see it through to the end--despite how much the role of good samaritan often left him feeling drained.
Then, once again, the pale man prompted for information regarding Rakesh, drawing him from his thoughts. Exhaling whilst trying not to let his annoyance sound, the half-veira stepped forward to catch up with the man in a few quick strides. Idly, he noted that the marketplace was drawing closer.
He hated fielding questions about himself. They always made him uncomfortable--partly because of his less than nobile past, but mostly he because was a private man, to begin with. He certainly wasn’t to keen on the idea of exchanging life stories with total stranger--or even those with whom he was familiar. When it came to matters he considered personal, there simply wasn’t much to say, or much that he wanted to share. Therefore, he decided to focus upon the pale man’s earlier comment. It seemed like neutral ground to him... well... enough so, anyway.
“Ye be correct in yer assumption that I be no native t’ this land.” He paused a moment, considering what to add, before settling for something both informative and vague. After all, half-truths were far more comfortable to give, “I am a sellsword... a mercenary passin’ through this region, on errand, when I found ye, injured, upon th’ beach.” Rakesh passed a quick glance toward the pale man, before looking onward again, and continuing, “Ye were correct in that as well. T’ wha’ end? That remains t’ be seen.”
“As fer yer clothin’...” He trailed as he gave a single shrug of his shoulders, “That would be a question better taken t’ th’ innkeeper. I would reckon she took them t’ mend.”
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Exdeath
Tonberry
All returns to the Void...
Posts: 44
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Post by Exdeath on Jul 11, 2012 16:46:17 GMT -5
Sephiroth allowed a slight smirk to play at his lips. He was fencing the question at length and obviously had something to hide. The smooth matured voice responded amongst the bustle of the market, "As a mercenary you must have traveled far and wide then. Must be quite the story to tell. Have you found work here as of yet?" The thought of a mercenary even stopping to assist him gave a view of this man from another perspective. He still had morals. "Perhaps I can somehow pay you back someday for all this. Of course I don't even know if I'd be of any use. Not sure what my talents are as of yet. For some reason I remember nothing before my ocean awakening."
The Inn-keeper must have his clothes somewhere or what's left of them. That can wait ,however, as he knew they were in no usable condition. If she dressed him in this attire there must have been an upper portion to accompany it. For now he would get to know this Rakesh; he seemed like an alright individual so far. Heads suddenly turned as the gates to Fabul Castle opened without warning. Muffled yells of men beyond triggered a wave of people to clear a path down the market as a dozen hardened monks came flying out upon the backs of Chocobos. The party seemed intent on making good time as Sephiroth stepped aside with ease to avoid being run down. In the rear of the unit rode another heavily robed figure who seemed to be getting an escort from the castle guard.
Attention suddenly turned as the hooded figure slowed his pace. The Chocobo waned in surprise at the distance now being put between it and the rest of it's kind. A shadowed gaze wandered over the ex-SOLDIER with an almost suspicious recognition. His attire was almost military-like and more advanced than the wears of the locals. Shoulder guards gleam under the merciless sun; studded for unknown reasons. Long blue cargo pants were tucked into the black boots that looked freshly polished and new. Upon the left shoulder guard, a red symbol worn with time seemed to bare it's former glory with a tattered title beneath. Distance restricted Sephiroth from reading it but the man drew closer with the creature as if trying to study him. His voice lingered as he finally called out. "What is your name?"
Sephiroth was slightly bewildered as this man seemed to recognize him somehow. Knees bent slightly as his fists clenched in anticipation. No ounce of memory could warn him whether this be an enemy, friend or just a curious passerby. By now the sound of the escort returning to their position rumbled slightly just over the dirt path ahead. The SOLDIER responded with slight apprehension, "I don't know. I woke up earlier today and cannot recall even my own identity." Amusement seemed to fill the stranger's voice as he retorted. "You look very familiar to me...if you are who I think you are; it'd be better not remembering your past, sir." Sir? He treated him almost like a high ranking officer. This man must know something then. Sephiroth responded with a slight hint of excitement, 'What do you mean I'm better off?"
Without response the man turned his chocobo away, trotting casually to meet the others it would seem. A trailing voice called back, "Start anew. It's your only chance at survival now. Also if I were you I'd avoid Midgar or any of the cities to the North for that matter." The ex-SOLDIER started walking briskly after him as his temper slightly rose. "Tell me please. I need to know." As it turned out, the retreating man was a former MP for ShinRA corp. He knew all too well who he was talking to. Despite his calm demeanor; beneath the hood his eyes were widened slightly in terror at this new event. He was back.
Not another word was spoken as the chocobo picked up the pace to a full run yet again. Sephiroth mulled over what he said about the cities to the North and the vague warning.
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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 11, 2012 19:32:44 GMT -5
At the pale man’s comment and inquiry about his work, Rakesh’s first response curtail any further inquiry into that specific subject matter. “Forgive me fer bein’ blunt,” he interrupted when the pale one had asked if he’d yet found any work. “I will nah be sharin’ stories--as ye call them--about th’ content of me missions. Do nah take it personally--’tis a matter o’ confidentiality."
Then, thinking that his words might have come across as a bit too callous, he decided to at least give a little in way of explanation, by adding, "I help people. Sometimes, ‘tis as simple as huntin’ a fiend that has been eatin’ a farmer’s livestock. Sometimes, ‘tis defendin’ people against other people--very violent people who would not hesitate t’ seek blood, should certain information come t’ light. I do hope ye understand the need for discretion.”
Anything else that Rakesh might have added was cut short, when suddenly the gates to Fabul Castle opened as a company of men riding Chocobos quitted the estate. Rakesh quickly stepped aside so that they may pass. Then, when one of them seemed to recognize his companion, Rakesh took that moment to hang back, so as not to be likewise singled out. Although his more... rough and tumble... days were behind him, he was still a wanted man in many circles. Therefore, he contented himself with blending into the crowd of market goers, and waited until the mounted men took their leave.
However, the words of the mounted man--the one who stayed behind to talk to the pall one--caught his attention. He found himself listening, and the words he heard did not settle well with his gut. So it was, when the mounted man left, Rakesh made his way back to the pale man’s side.
“Now that was odd...” Rakesh murmured as he watched the hooded man retreat upon his chocobo. All the while, a contemplative look stirred across his features as his brows furrowed and his pulls pulled into a thin line. Once the mounted man was well out of earshot, Rakesh decided to give voice to this troubled thoughts. “Mighty odd indeed--more so than mere odd coincidence, Iam sure. First, I find ye, washed shore, under injury. Ye awake, only t’ suffer from memory loss, wit’ no clue who ye be, or how you came t’ be, right? Then, supposedly at random, ye run into a man who jus’ so conveniently happens t’ know who ye be? One warns ye against findin’ yer past, ‘n t’ avoid a place called Midar. One who makes haste t’ leave, n’ wit’ a sizable escort, as soon as his message is delivered.”
Rakesh released quick bark of a sigh, and then shook his head. “That be th’ scent o’ foul play, if I ‘ave ever smelt it.”
The half-viera turned to face the pale one, and gave a wary smile that boarded on sympathetic. “Sounds t’ me like yea’ve been dealt a rum deal, mate. If I were ye, I’d reckon that Midgar would be th’ first place t’ go t’ seek answers. That be, if ye don’t first track down that man, ‘n force th’ answers from ‘im.”
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Exdeath
Tonberry
All returns to the Void...
Posts: 44
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Post by Exdeath on Jul 11, 2012 20:17:26 GMT -5
As Rakesh came up beside him and spoke, Sephiroth simply stared off into the distance as his voice emerged with a slight tinge of disappointment. "What have I done to deserve this? Am I really that hated? No I won't settle for this...." The ex-SOLDIER nodded at the mention of Midgar and seemingly affirmed Rekash's suggestion as he suddenly sprinted forth. For the first time since his awakening he felt something familiar in his very muscles with the strained movement. His energy and vigor seemed to escalate suddenly to a rather quick speed as he pushed open the doors to the Inn with distress.
Sephiroth stepped to the counter, ignoring the annoying stares of the locals as he briskly yet calmly inquired of the clothing. "I thank you for your hospitality for my time here but I must ask something. The clothing I wore in here; do you still have it?" The elderly lady seemed confused for a moment as the wheels started turning. With a silent inhalation of excitement she bustled back into what looked to be a laundry room. The old lathe's in the back and wash buckets were a strong indicator. She returned after only a few moments, but held only a single piece in her hands. It was a black leather guard that rested over his lower abs just above the pant line. As his green eyes lowered to the piece that slid across the counter; Sephiroth immediately noticed the symbol that covered the entire piece like a 'flagship'.
It was the very same insignia upon that man's shoulder guard. Again he inquired of his current attire. "So there was nothing else salvageable? What about this?" Motioning to his lower garments she instantly seemed familiar with his request. The same movement and routine played out as she retreated to the laundry room. Finally and to his surprise, she threw familiar words together. "Many warrior left gear. Been here long time." When she emerged she had procured the rest of the matching gear. Two gauntlets of a similar style which guard his hand but left his fingers plenty of room to maneuver; black as night with a brilliant gold lining. The fact she held on to such an expensive looking set perplexed him. As he slid them over his forearms, Sephiroth examined the next piece. It was a half-vest with the same design as the rest but had a set of foreign symbols which worked their way up along where the button-line would be. What they said mattered little at this point.
Finally at the bottom of the pile there was a long black trench-coat that had a reinforced leather collar which rose high to protect the vital neck-line. Slowly the ex-SOLDIER twirled it around as his arms slid into the coat with little effort. The bottom of the coat stopped halfway down his calves and seemed well enough to keep him covered for now. With a brief thanks to the eager old lady, Sephroth turned quickly as he headed back to the door. The collar rose high enough to block the view of his face from the nose down; whilst long silver hair seemed to contrast with the black coat.
Again he emerged into the setting sun just outside, greeted by a new set of stares from the locals as they observed the odd mannerisms of the eery man. Each step seemed confident and elegant at the same time; almost care free to be exact. His gaze turned to Rakesh now as his tone held the familiar low monotonous sound from years ago. "I suppose I'll have to find my answers. You have helped me and I will repay you somehow." A gentle breeze wallowed through the village, causing the long strands of hair to quiver slightly with a serene cradle. It was the start of a new journey and nothing would get in his way.
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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 12, 2012 17:13:47 GMT -5
“Hated? That is th’ impression you got? I would have read…” Rakesh tilted his head and looked toward the direction in which the company had rode; trailing off as he thought over his impression of the mounted man—the tone of voice, the words spoken, the mannerisms, the scent…
“Fear--That man was terrified.”
There was the sound of footsteps, and Rakesh turned to see the pale one hasten back toward the inn. He quirked an eyebrow at the sudden departure, and wondered whether or not the pale man had decided to follow his suggestion. Either way, the half-viera shrugged off his curiosity and turned back toward the market. There were some provisions of which he had been intending to make purchase—food, in particular.
He hadn’t eaten all day—despite the innkeeper’s offering to provide a warm meal. He had, as politely as he could manage, declined the kind the elderly women’s numerous offerings. She seemed slightly offended by his consistent refusal, but it couldn’t be helped. Even with the language barrier, he was particularly keen on explaining his reason for refusal, either. When it came to food, Rakesh was, if anything, a very finicky eater. In small part, it was a condition born from paranoia—he didn’t particularly trust food in which he did not know its origin. The reasoning for the distrust varied depending on who was offering. Sometimes, it was to avoid poisoning, sometimes, it was to avoid certain ingredients. In this case, it was the later—a dietary conflict.
He didn’t eat meat.
At least, not that often…
* * *
By the time the pale man fished his business and returned outside, Rakesh could be found sitting on a bench near the market square. The bench was situated against one of the town’s stone structures bordering the square. It was a place that kept his back covered, and the entirety of the square in sight. It was a king of place where one might sit if he wanted to keep watch of who was coming and going into the area, yet, situated near a tree, also kept his tale frame partially obstructed from view. There he sat, leaning against the cool stone wall while contentedly munching on a small loaf of spiced bread. At his side, lay a canteen filled with fresh water. He set there, idly watching a customer and merchant haggle over prices, while his thoughts were mulling over what to do about the Pale Man.
His hood had been pulled back, freeing up his ears and allowing them to air a little. Wearing the good for so long, and in the afternoon’s hot weather, was starting to make them itch uncomfortably. Now, they stood erect above his head, twitching the sounds of the market square. They were shorter than the ears of a full blooded viera, and terribly scraggily in appearance with the right looking as though some fiend had taken a comp right out of it. Every once in a while, one of the market goers would catch a glimpse of him, and shoot a queer look his way. For the most part, he ignored the glances, since they were more out of vague curiosity than anything else. After all, he’d encountered far worse reactions from townspeople before.
In the days since the event that reshaped the world, he had been on the receiving end of hostilities quite frequently—especially when traveling foreign lands unused to anything but humes as a sapient race. As it stood, male viera were a rare enough sighting outside the wood, rare enough to earn him the occasional double-take—even from the females of his kin--when traveling through the territories of Ivalice. Half breeds were even rarer—although it seemed that most humes could not tell the difference between himself and a full viera, anyway.
After what could only be described as a merging of worlds, he started encountering humes who had never seen a viera, and likewise, he himself encountered all manners of beings which he’d never before seen, either. Initially, it was all very alarming for all involved. Sometimes, interspecies encounters would lead to hostilities. However, as the year passed, it seemed as though people were finally starting to take such new encounters in stride. Still, sometimes it was better to keep his ears hidden when he did not want to draw attention to himself, or when he needed to keep his heritage hidden when traveling through areas with less…tolerant…locals. After all, he had been mistaken for a fiend once, and he didn’t necessarily want to repeat the experience. Fabul, at least, was a friendly enough place. It seems that the locals were quite used to seeing sights such as himself.
When the Pale Man emerged from the Inn and made his way back, Rakesh’s ear twitched at the sound of the man’s heavy footsteps. Pulling his hood back over his head, he stood and stepped out from the obscuring shade and shelter of the tree and its bench. His eyes scanned over the man’s new attire, and the first responding though that came to his mind was that the outfit looked awfully hot—especially for this weather.
Then the man spoke, and Rakesh’s attention shifted to his words. There was an offer of repayment, to which Rakesh shook his head and upheld a pausing hand, “Iam sure somethin’ can be arranged, in due time. Fer now, however, it can wait. There’s another matter, at hand, o’ which I wish t’ speak--namely, yer predicament. Seek yer answers if ye must, but I wonder how ye plan t' go about this endeavor. Ye’ave no memory, no name, no coin. That man from earlier said that Midgar resides t’ th’ north. If so, there’s a vast sea that lies between here ‘n there. Th’ only way you would be able t’ travel such a distance, is t‘ obtain passage via sea or air. T’ do that, ye will need money t’ book passage.”
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Exdeath
Tonberry
All returns to the Void...
Posts: 44
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Post by Exdeath on Jul 12, 2012 18:56:53 GMT -5
As Sephiroth listened intently to his counter-suggestion; he couldn't help but wonder what the man had planned. It would seem something was working in his mind regarding the situation. There had to be ships here, seeing as he came from the ocean to begin with not too far away. By air did he mean an airship? The level of technology seemed varied now. "Then what do you propose Rakesh?" A smirk crossed his lips as Sephiroth's gut told him there very well may be an adventure amiss from these new revelations.
Determination was rampant in the SOLDIER; to get underway. Nothing would stop this mission. Was he going to help the lost SOLDIER? The sun beat down upon them in a relentless barrage; yet Sephiroth didn't seem bothered even with such attire. Thoughts swirled helpless through his damaged mind. Who was that man who exited the castle? Why was he here anyway? So many questions to be deciphered as of yet. Citizens began to clear the streets suddenly. Oddly enough it seemed early and like they were avoiding something. A quiet and organized bustle as if they had done this time and time again.
Strange type of people they were; never ceasing to confuse him. Sephiroth shifted his shoulders slightly; feeling the coat reposition slightly. Something about it felt familiar to him though. As if it 'belonged' on him. His eyes seemingly slid closed for only a second; reopening to a very different scene.
He was standing upon a large metallic structure; overlooking a vast view below and the beautiful setting sun. Before him stood a man with similar wares as that of the man he encountered on the chocobo but black in color. A large buster blade lay across his back, almost matching his very height. Spiked black hair seemed stalwart against a gentle breeze that lulled over the scene.
His own voice broke the serene silence as it spoke with a tempered confidence he had not known as of yet. "Mission failed. This goes on your permanent record." Bits of the sentence seemed garbled for some reason and inaudible. The man before him turned to gaze with bright blue eyes which held an almost unnatural appearance. Surprise filled his face as he seemed to recognize him immediately. A younger voice now emerged from him, unclear still. "Sephir--! Long time no --" As he blinked he was back in Fabul. It seemed not a second had passed in reality.
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Post by Al-Cid, Rakesh, Paloma, Mateo on Jul 13, 2012 12:18:00 GMT -5
“I propose that, before all else, ye get yer bearin’s stright. About th’ lay o’ th’ land. About where ye can fit within it. Fer if, or when, ye start regainin’ yer memories, yer goin’ t’ find that this world ain’t th’ same as th’ one ye might recall.”
“How shall I explain this…” Rakesh paused a moment, mentally going over just how to frame what he needed to say. Nobody really knew how things came to be as they are, as least, nobody he had ever encountered. While he himself didn’t have any answers, either, at least he had a loose, working idea as how the world’s current state might have come to be. Thus, as Rakesh spoke, he carefully watched the other man, gaging his reaction to the information that was soon to be revealed.
“There is a legend, wherein ‘tis believed that all o’ existence was supported by an immense tree--The World Tree, or Yggdrasil, as it was called. And upon each of th' Yggdrasil's sprawlin' branches, was harbored a different realm... From there, th' legend varies in account as t' what exactly such realms housed--ranging from th' lands o' gods, t' men, t' demons. Mayhap there be truth t' it, mayhap there be not. All th' same, 'tis my thinkin' that the Yggdrasil was really comprised of divergent realms, connected in origin at th' tree's trunk, with branches that grew outward through time. Formin’ into different realities. Existent in both opposition ‘n parallel. Each branch gave buddin’ t’ its own fruit--each wit’ it's own history... it's own present... Perhaps, even it's own future, were it not that Catastrophe struck, ‘n shook th’ tree. I do not ken th’ why or how or what, just yet, but I believe that somethin’ caused th’ branches shrivel in upon themselves as though diseased. Now, th’ tree is twisted and gnarled, her branches entwined together as one. All o’ existence has become but a mangled trunk—that trunk, th’ new reality into which we ‘ave all awakened, lost ‘n confused.
"This Catastrophe happened one year ago. In th’ time that has passed, this event has since come t’ be referred t’, colloquially, as The Merge. This reality in which we now live: ‘tis an amalgamation o’ different worlds, nations and people—a reality of distrust ‘n suspicion, standin’ upon th’ precipice of war. Old Powers struggle t‘ retain that order which has been lost; New Factions rise t’ seize th’ opportunity that now lies in th’ resultant chaos.
“That said: Given yer current predicament, I find that I cannot, in good conscience, send ye out into th’ wilderness unawares. ‘twill only harbor death fer th’ unprepared. Therefore, if ye so wish, I’m willin’ t’ be yer guide t’ this New World.”
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