forum "I wouldn't date you even to save my life." "What if it's to save someone else's life?" "That person better have no loose ends to tie up." | OxO (Closed, stalkers welcome)

Started August 01, 2022 by Deleted user

tune

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(Oh! I thought it was just one guy, not the entire tribe! Wide eyes. Damn)

Jonathan glared, but didn’t reply. It was a shock to know that the Anastasios tribe was alive, and that he, via his death, would somehow bring the Morpheus tribe back. He wasn’t even Morpheus!

Jonathan sighed, watching her get up, then yelped as Christina’s wind picked him up. He didn’t even have time to react as he was carried into the sky and rolled around like the toy of a very enthusiastic child. Though, he did manage to sheathe his wings before he started twirling, sparing them from getting possible broken bones.

When the wind finally brought him down, Jonathan was too dizzy to stand. He was somewhat aware of what Christina said, but he just couldn’t focus on anything. He managed to crawl over to the corner wall, and leaned against it, drifting into one of his trances.

(Grins Being tracked by one person. The rest of the clan is bound to that one, who happened to not be there. And, incidentally, he's the most powerful of their lot. Oh, by the way: that one's alive.)

Christina drifts in and out of consciousness, edging ever closer to the Lonely Maiden, Death. In between bouts of unconsciousness, she tries to wake Jonathan.

(Well, that clarifies that. Oof, lol)

Jonathan’s trance only lasted a couple minutes, but he was still exhausted and lightheaded, and repeatedly dozed off. Being thrown around in circles by wind wasn’t fun.

He kept hearing a nearby voice. Familiar, but faint. The voice called to him, growing closer. She was asking him to wake up, to wake up before the enemy army found them. She then screamed, panicking and shaking him desperately, calling his name over and over as they were surrounded.

Jonathan burst awake with a gasp.

“Risithia?”he called, looking around.

He then realized where he was, and when he was. It had been ages since he’d last had that dream. Why did it come back? He had grabbed Risithia, his sister, before the others could take her, and they’d escaped. Why did it haunt him when he had saved her?

Jonathan’s gaze fell upon Christina. She was weak, and grower weaker. She had mentioned she’d be anemic, which made sense considering how much blood she lost. But, how could he help her? Healing spells took time, but would Christina last that long?

As Jonathan moved over to see if he could heal Christina some more, that water bird from earlier appeared. Jonathan watched the bird cautiously, noticing that it was a cormorant of sorts.

The bird waddled over, acting just as cautious as Jonathan, inspecting Christina. It then flew off the side a bit and morphed into a young Ahkrethian male, a Strangeling with feathers in his hair. He lacked the typical horns of a male Ahkrethian.

“Might I help?”the youth asked shyly.

“I… suppose. Who are you?”Jonathan asked.

“Phalakros, servant of Lucitius. I had sensed power here, yet I seemed to have mistaken it for Lucitius. He is not here, yet she is,”the youth explained.

Jonathan nodded and Phalakros moved to kneel next to Jonathan. Together, they used healing spells to try and bring Christina from the brink of death.

Christina narrows her already half-closed eyes at the pair, then grins a bit.

"Well, there's now two lizards here. How intriguing." she says, words soft and slurred. She focuses on Phalakros.

"Tell Lucitius I said hi." she giggles.

Slowly, her ragged, quick breathing slows and quiets. She falls into a deep, deep sleep.

Phalakros grunted timidly at her words, then paused, stunned. He tried to stammer out a few words, but, after a moment, he just nodded.

Jonathan glanced at Phalakros.

“Rather timid, then?”he asked.

Phalakros paused again, then nodded. Jonathan sighed, then put a hand on his shoulder to soothe him. Phalakros glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.

They continued to heal Christina, even as she fell asleep. They both wanted to make sure she would be alright.

“How does she know Lucitius?”Phalakros asked after a bit.

Jonathan shrugged,”She knows more about me than I know about her.”

Phalakros grunted, then stayed silent.

(An intriguing character indeed. . . Drifts into thought for a long moment, then nods distractedly)
(I chuckle "She knows more about me than I know about her" is the basic thing about Christina. He'll be getting hints soon, though.)

After a half an hour, Christina starts to move in her sleep. Vague words such as "Not safe" and "Not my daughter." Other sounds escape her, such as groans of pain, and eventually shrieks of grief and rage.

She tries to get up, fighting against some invisible enemy. Eventually she goes limp, tears leaking from her eyes.

After another hour, she wakes up.

(Lol. Thumbs-up. And… oof)

Phalakros flinched as Christina started dreaming, becoming nervous as she spoke and made sounds. Jonathan noticed and waved for him to relax. Phalakros shook his head and stood, moving away.

“Easy, Phalakros. We are safe,”Jonathan cooed.

“It… This is different. Something I deal with,”Phalakros said, shaking his head.

“Still. We can relax.”

Phalakros nodded shakily and started taking deep breaths. Jonathan turned back to Christina, continuing to heal her as he listened. It reminded him of that moment he had saved Risithia. Christina seemed to have experienced something similar, with a daughter, but… she didn’t get to save her. Not from what it sounded like.

Without really noticing, Jonathan started to gently rub Christina’s arm, unconsciously trying to soothe her. He healed her as much as he could, but stopped when she woke, and shifted back a bit to give her some room. There was a gentle, concerned gleam in his eyes.

Phalakros paused when Christina woke, then made a small whimpering sound and paced, his eyes looking around warily.

(I tilt my head, then sigh Poor Phalakros. . .)
(I chuckle He'll learn soon enough.)

Gazing around, Christina's eyes land on Jonathan's face, and she scowls.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not your sister. Or your daughter. Or your lover." she grumbles, getting up; her reaction was rather soft compared to before. Her gaze softens as she looks at Phalakros. She smiles softly and kneels in front of him.

"Hello, young one. My name is Christina. I'm an old friend of Lucitius'." she says kindly. "What's your name?"

(Yeah. Poor Phalakros indeed. He’s actually one of the few characters that I feel bad about torturing. And, now that I think of it, I might make an alternate timeline where he can have his own little paradise)
(Indeed)

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed in surprise at her reaction, then he rolled his eyes. Why should he be surprised? Christina was always a bitch. But, there was definitely something different now. Why was she more mellow? Was it her greif, or did she secretly appreciate his concern?

As Jonathan watched her, he became even more surprised at her demeanor toward Phalakros. What inspired her gentleness toward him?

Phalakros turned as Christina approached. He shrank away from her, frightened by the power that radiated off of her. He didn’t really relax as she spoke, but her kind tone seemed enough to keep him from fleeing.

“Ph… Phalakros. I am Phalakros. How… how do you know Lucitius?”he replied shyly.

Phalakros unconsciously grabbed a sleek, black feather growing in his hair, rubbing it nervously. The feather was truly a part of his hair, as were the many other feathers on his head.

(I smile From what I can tell, he deserves it.)

Christina lets Phalakros have his space.

"Phalakros." she repeats softly, then reaches out a hand, her face kind. "Nice to meet you, Phalakros."

"My relationship with your master is. . . complicated. But we're both the same level of entity, though him plus his Diamond has far exceeded most Vanisher's power. He is certainly far more powerful than me normally. But right now, he is. . . greatly weakened." she says, speaking softly, voice tinged with the sorrow of a lonely, broken young girl; she was seemingly a different person. "But for a while, I enjoyed his company. That was a long time ago, though."

(Yeah. Thoughtful smile. He’ll get his paradise timeline)

Phalakros gave a breif, shy smile at her words. He eyed her hand for a moment, nearly reaching out to take it, but his paranoia kept him from actually doing it.

“Lord. Lucitius is mine lord. I serve him willingly,”Phalakros mentioned quietly. He turned away for a second, continuing to rub that one feather.

“I can feel it. I knew how powerful you were the moment I arrived.”

Phalakros glanced back at her timidly, his expression becoming greatly concerned when she mentioned how weak Lucitius had become. What did she mean by that? Did he dare ask?

Phalakros noticed the way Christina changed, and he delicately took her hand in both of his, hoping to bring her a bit of comfort. Even though she frightened him, he didn’t like it when others were sad.

“Lucitius is like a father to me. He took me in after mine adoptive father was killed. I have served him since,”Phalakros said, staring at their hands shyly.

Jonathan watched all of this silently, curious and stunned.

(I smile I have a character who deserves her own paradise. She's one of the younger ones. I feel bad for doing what I have to her, myself.)

Christina notes that paranoia and speaks softly.

"Whatever tries to hurt you, Lucitius will protect you from. In his absence, I'd like it if you relied on me. I know you have reason to be cautious of me, but I do not hurt those like you." she says soothingly.

She nods slightly. "Sorry. I find it hard sometimes to distinguish the two. When I was younger, the two words meant the same thing."

"Once you lose part of your soul, you become weaker. It is a simple fact. He is still much more powerful than I. But he is nowhere near his peak." she explains, noting the look on Phalakros' face.

Christina smiles softly, but that sadness was still there. She gently rubs Phalakros' head. "Thank you, Des. . ."

Her words trail off and she takes her hand off Phalakros' head. Her eyes were shining and bright, like she was starting to cry. But no noise, no tears, escaped her. It was clear that she had been about to say someone else's name.

"I wish others were as lucky as you, my child. To have found such a caring person. . . you are very lucky in that regard." she murmurs.

(Nods. There’s always one, if not more, characters that need a little paradise. Smiles)

Phalakros nodded in acknowledgment, and he relaxed slightly, but he was still quite tense.

“‘Tis not simply that. Much like I consider Lucitius a father, Lucitius sees me as a son. Yet, I… I am not how I was. There is… something… in me…”Phalakros’ voice grew increasingly quiet as he spoke, until his words were barely audible. He avoided looking at Christina.

“‘Tis alright. It is simple for me to remember, because Ahkrethians have no masters. A Lord and Servant have a mutual respect, and the Servant chooses to serve their Lord. The Lord can only ask for their service, yet the Servant does not have to vow himself unless he wishes to,”Phalakros explained.

Phalakros seemed confused, but his concern still outweighed the confusion.

A form of recognition came into Phalakros’ timid green eyes when Christina said someone else’s name. He seemed to understand exactly what was going on, as if he’d seen it many times before.

“I believe in Lucitius and his goals. Yet, I care for him as much as he cares for me. He often confuses me for another, much like you did now. In his mind, he can barely tell me from Sanius, his first son. I am only a few centuries younger than Sanius, yet from what Lucitius tells me, Sanius was still a Youngling when he died. It has been many Ahkrethian lifetimes since then, yet Lucitius still has times when he cannot tell who I am,”Phalakros said.

He looked down again at the hand he still held, and he gently rubbed it. It was soothing to him, because it reminded him of the many times someone had rubbed his own hands. His adoptive father had done it. Lucitius occasionally did it. Synthia, Lucitius’ wife, often did it. And, even Mythrius, Lucitius’ daughter, sometimes did.

Jonathan still watched. He wanted badly to join in the conversation, to offer comforting advice to both of them. But, he didn’t know how to join in without disrupting everything, so he just stayed quiet.

(I nod Yeah. . . )
(You know what memory regression is, right?)
(By the way, if you couldn't tell: major twists incoming)

The expression on Christina's face shifts, and a motherly expression is now on her face. She pulls Phalakros to her gently in a motherly way.

"It's okay, Desmond. What has possessed you? Papa will make it okay. He's the Great Guardian, after all." she says, voice soft and loving.

She smiles and listens to Phalakros. It's obvious that she believes him to be Desmond. Her long-dead son.

"Oh, Desmond. You have quite the imagination. Now, go wash up. Dinner's almost ready." she laughs, walking a path through a house only she can see. Towards what she probably thinks is the kitchen. As she walks, she notices Jonathan and smiles.

"About time you showed up, Ray. Go wash up with your brother. Be quick about it!" she smiles, shooing Jonathan away.

(Are you referring to ‘returning to a past mindset/memory’? I got a basic idea on it. And, honestly, Lucitius does that a lot. That’s why he confuses Phalakros with Sanius)
(Eyes widen in shock. Oh damn! Definite twist!)

Phalakros froze when Christina pulled him closer, his eyes widening in shock and terror. How did Christina know he’d been possessed? And, why was she saying that Great Guardian was his father? He wasn’t, though he seemed like it.

“I… I…”

Phalakros whimpered and curled up as Christina walked away. He knew what was going on, but he didn’t know Christina. Lucitius was fairly simple to soothe, but that was only when Synthia was near. Without Synthia’s presence, then the best route was comforting him and keeping him from a violent outburst until he returned to his right mind or Synthia arrived. But, Christina… Phalakros simply didn’t know how to handle her.

As Christina passed Jonathan, he straightened in bewilderment. Desmond? Ray? Sons of Great Guardian? What the hell was going on?

“Mine name is not Ray. I am…”

Phalakros waved for Jonathan to shut up. Jonathan looked at him in confusion. Phalakros tapped his head, waved his hand counterclockwise, then pointed at Christina. Jonathan understood that something was wrong with Christina’s mind, that she seemed to be living a memory, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He’d never encountered something like this. Phalakros moaned, his head landing in his knees.

(I nod Yup. Basically exactly that.)
(I smile slightly It'll definitely be interesting from here on out.)

"Desmond! Ray! Tina! Hope! Din-" Christina starts to say, then stops.

"Kids. Run." she says, fear evident in her voice.

(Thumbs-up)
(Yup, lol)

Phalakros flinched, then jumped to his feet and gently grabbed Christina’s hand. There had to be something he could do to soothe her.

“Mother, ‘tis alright. We are safe. No one can find us. Father is here to make sure of that,”Phalakros said.

Jonathan stood, staring at Christina and Phalakros with both confusion and concern. He approached as well. He wondered what she saw, but he didn’t want to ruin Phalakros’ attempt to calm her.

Christina looks. . . terrified.

"Desmond, they, the Ahkrethians, are here. Go. Save yourse-" she's but off again, and collapses, looking around at the memory.

"No. . ." she says, trembling. Then she goes unconscious for about 10 seconds before waking up.

She looks around, then sees the way Jonathan are looking at her. Her face immediately turns to granite: emotionless, unreadable, blank. She gets up, then jumps 70 feet, compressing air beneath her feet to jump another 70 in mid-air. She's gone in seconds.

Phalakros froze at her words. His arms started to shake, then his entire body. Ahkrethians? Ahkrethians killed her children? Great Guardian’s children? But… Ahkrethians were also children of Great Guardian, indirectly or not. Why? Why?

He doesn’t move as Christina falls. Maroon blood dripped from one of his eyes, but grey ichor fell from the other.

Jonathan’s concern grew at the sight of Phalakros, but he sighed in annoyance when Christina saw him and left. Why was she so damn dramatic? A word, a look, a simple breeze made her pissy. It was getting old very quickly.

“You still need mine help,”Jonathan called after her, though he doubted she heard him.

“Lucitius, why? Why such bloodshed?”Phalakros mumbled, whimpering.

Jonathan turned to him, then walked over and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Phalakros flinched.

“Easy. There are things neither of us know, yet do not let it bother you,”Jonathan cooed.

Phalakros looked at him, then shakily nodded, taking deep breaths. It didn’t seem to really help.

Christina returns sometime near midnight, covered in dust, debris, and some sort of weird, sludgey liquid that splatters the ground in fat drops and left a stench akin to pure essence of hell.

She's silent for a bit, then nudges Jonathan awake, gently. She leans down and whispers, "Stay quiet and follow me."

Jonathan spent most of the time waiting on Christina with Phalakros. Though, he did eventually morph into a human again, then visited one of the neighbors and asked for some snacks. The folks eagerly helped, and didn’t have any problems with Jonathan’s strange request of ‘meat only’. After all, this was still Jonathan’s neighborhood, and most of his tenants were not fully human. When Jonathan returned, he and Phalakros ate, then continued waiting.

As night fell, Jonathan dozed off into a nap. Phalakros tried to sleep, but he couldn’t, so he instead morphed into his bird form, a Great Cormorant, and curled up against Jonathan. The paranoid bird kept watch over everything, then hid behind Jonathan as Christina appeared.

Jonathan woke easily at Christina’s touch, eyeing her in confusion. He glanced at Phalakros, but the poor bird didn’t want to move, and was obviously contemplating leaving. Jonathan grimaced, then gently petted Phalakros. He would understand if Phalakros didn’t come, and wouldn’t judge him.

After a moment, Jonathan stood, morphed back into his Ahkrethian form just in case, and waved for Christina to lead the way.

Christina smiles softly at bird Phalakros, then walks away.

"Take my hand. We're going somewhere important to me." she murmurs, her smile fading as she holds out a hand for Jonathan to take.

Phalakros quietly chirped at her, but didn’t move.

Jonathan hummed, then took Christina’s hand. He glanced back at Phalakros, nodding farewell, then focused on Christina. Questions nagged at him, but he forced himself to be quiet. He could only wonder where they would be going.

Instead of jumping, Christina summons the four directional winds and takes flight. Within a half hour, they were in what looked like Japan. But it wasn't. It wasn't anywhere on earth. The sky, water, grass, trees. . . they were all vibrant, filled with ancient magic.

"This is my home. Haedrul. The place where the kitsune, my children, were concieved. Where my kind first met yours. Where I met Lucitius." she says. Her voice was gentle, and sounded almost happy.

"It's also the place we died."

Her tone turns bitter as she recounts the deeds of the Ahkrethians. The atrocities they had committed, the blood of millions of innocents painting the landscape a gruesome mockery of itself. How the fires had raged, and how the very elements themselves tore everyone apart. She recounts her capture, how days stretched into years of torture. How she'd been abused. She left nothing out.

"Do you understand, Jonathan? Why I am the way I am? Why I cannot Create? Why I snap?" she murmurs.

As she had been talking, she had found her home. What was left of it.

Jonathan unsheathed his wings as they took flight. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it was both habitual and calming. He watched the landscape change, fascinated by this new world.

As Christina started to speak, Jonathan glanced at her, intrigued, and stunned. But, as her tale turned dark, Jonathan grew more and more shaken. He had a feeling that he knew which tribe had done the most damage, but what nagged at him was the thought that all of the tribes had contributed. That thought scared him, because it destroyed almost everything he had ever known about his own race.

He hesitated to speak as they came upon Christina’s home. It tore him apart to see the ruins, and the mere thought of Ahkrethians so brutally murdering a race, any race, almost sickened him. Blood tears leaked from his eyes, but he didn’t really notice.

“I… understand. I… I can guess that Aethon likely led it, yet… I cannot see how Lagg and Avitus did not fight to protect this place and everyone in it. They were like Anastasios and Morpheus. They were always against needless bloodshed,”Jonathan said, his voice trembling.

Christina looks at Jonathan sadly.

"Peer pressure's a hell of a thing, kid." she says softly.

She kneels next to a series of four child-sized graves. She gently traces strange characters into the dirt.

Jonathan sighed shakily, then nodded. Christina did have a point, even if it was an unpleasant one.

“I have seen mine share of it,”he commented.

Jonathan ignored the fact that she had called him a kid, just for simplicity’s sake. Though he was nearing Late Prime, he was an infant compared to Christina, so it wasn’t necessarily an insult.

Jonathan watched Christina, fighting back more tears. He had never had children of his own, but his sister had a son, and Jonathan had adored that boy from the time he was hatched. It ripped him apart every time he considered that he would most likely never see the youth again, but Jonathan could only imagine the pain Christina felt at losing her own children.

(Late Prime is kind of the Ahkrethian equivalent of 40’s-50’s. So, basically, Jonathan is like the equivalent of a 38-39 year old. Something like that)

(Math doesn't compute for me, so cool, lmao)

Christina sighs once more. "When you've been alive as long as I have, you see more of it than you ever cared to."

After a few moments she gets up again.

"It's time for us to leave." she says, taking one of Jonathan's hands and spiriting them back to earth.

(I have issues with math too, so you’re good, lol. Basically, converting Ahkrethian to Human years, Jonathan’s in his late 30’s)

“I can only imagine,”Jonathan sighed, shaking his head.

Jonathan didn’t say anything as she got up and took his hand. He didn’t know what to say.

When they were back, Jonathan took a moment to wipe his eyes and somewhat compose himself. Then, he looked around. Phalakros was sitting the spot that he’d been in last, and was amusing himself by studying a rock he’d found. Surprisingly, Phalakros didn’t seem at all surprised by their appearance.

“I am stuck. I can hear a portal near here, yet I know not how to get to it. And, I cannot voluntarily teleport,”Phalakros stated, his tone much calmer than usual.

Jonathan eyed him in confusion for a moment, bewildered by the youth’s words and change in demeanor. Phalakros shrugged.

“I do know where a Gate is. Yet, I am not allowed there,”Jonathan commented, his voice still shaky from his earlier emotions. Though, he was now contemplating if his banishment was such a bad thing after all.

(I grin sheepishly I don't just have issues with math. Math is the issue, lol)

Christina studies Jonathan, then looks away.

As she sees Phalakros, she smiles.

"I can get you there, if you wish." she interjects. Out of the corner of her eye, she again studies Jonathan.