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Act 1 : Silent as a Grave of Shadow; Act 1 : KoEN's Revival
Topic Started: Jun 1 2012, 02:32 AM (203 Views)
Amë Torrent

It was bare.

It was a shock, really. There was no coffin, no stone effigy, no anything. It had taken her a moment to take the bareness of its gray walls--and for a Torrent, that meant a lot.

She had materialized from within her brother's spell and into a mostly empty space, littered here and there with trinkets from another time; but truly, what was so grave-like about this place? The thought of her sibling's final resting place being thus empty--of his own death--struck her as sterile, almost laboratory-like and, although it was akin to the preoccupations of her legacy, something about it made her heart squirm deep within her.

She watched the blank space on the floor for a time, her mind flourishing with a myriad of thoughts, and with the opening and closing of alternate thought strings, she slowly became aware of the lack of Silence. Her brow furrowed, being assaulted by various unknowns she had not been aware of even existed... Had Umbra always been this alone?


Capt. Pluvia - The Breath and Word
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Shoujax Naught Capt Umbra
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Captain Umbra - The Primordial Enigma
|~|And here they were, starting at the end. Only three stories deep in to the Earth Naught stood in his grave examening the various "trinkets" which gave him the gift of life. From being simply a soul trapped inside a hollowed husk to a being of "nonexistence", the only stone effigy needed to epitomize his embodiment of nothing were those dingy, blank walls. Taking two of the weapons splayed sloppily about the room, a robust Kunai and chain along with a stunning silver longbow, he began outlining the spiral which was sealing the two of them inside. Spinning counter clockwise against the darkness which trapped them within, the Naught caught the furrowed brow of hers and retorted with a simplistic truth.|~|

|~|We are not special, unique little snowflakes, Amë. We are all Naught but the same decaying organic matter as everone else. And each of us is rotting in the same compost heap. Venom dripped from his poignant canines as they prodded past his upper lips. The grinding of arcan metal against stone reverberated with the sound of his listless voice, sending with the vibrations his will. In the upper echelon of the grave a trap door was sprung. A square had popped open where the two retrograde spirals met, the first applied to seal the room from outsiders and the second newly faceted by the Naught once he arrived. Jumping up the twelve feet would be a simple task, yet still he offered the woman a boost prior to scaling the distance himself.|~|

|~|This second room, the middle of the tomb, was shimmering with reflective walls of white. The internal light source was a luminous ruby-encrusted heart, stolen from some far off corners of the world and reassembled in the Naught's bunker. Though its light had dimmed due to the grave's layout of siphoning its power it still held enough resplendance to light this small, simple room. The seal now would have to be precisely made with the heart at its center. Gesturing to his companion once more the Naught had but a simply request. If you could, Pluvia, would you mind forming a circle about the room while I work on the heptagram? Tools still in hand, the boy began engraving his mark on the stone once more to release the seal upon the second room so they may finally face the foyer.|~|
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Amë Torrent

Her gaze should have pierced through him, there was nothing she could have possibly disagreed more at this moment than his words. However, she realized now was not the time to argue, and taking his aid, she let herself be pushed upward, her weight surprisingly not as substantial as one would have thought given how utterly dense her cloak looked to be. Lips opened to give her response to what she thought was the 'oh-so-fitting' metaphor of snowflakes in comparison to the complexity of the universe itself--something she knew perfectly well he could do--when the ivory walls registered in her peripherals, her body surging into this new room. The blood drained from her face slowly, brow furrowing further as she fought to control the rising fear.

She remained silent for most of his meanderings, and was snapped out of her apparent absentmindedness by his request. She gave a stiff nod, her gaze traveling the length of the room... Would she be able to do this? She was old enough, she wagered, but there was always that inkling of doubt...

From within the depths of her long sleeves, a torrent of water, controlled and smooth like a snake, slithered on the floor, and reunited with its own tail to create a perfect uroboros, the circle completed at her 'sibling's' behest. The water's surface trembled with the exertion of creating furrows, neat and even, on the white floor and about the central structure which he now worked around.

She stepped into the inside of the circle, feeling as if the shifting water could somehow protect her, giving her a false sense of familiarity in a room full of dangerous memories.


Capt. Pluvia - The Breath and Word
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Shoujax Naught Capt Umbra
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Captain Umbra - The Primordial Enigma
|~|As the ivory weapons ground against the stone floor with listless fervor he watched as she guided her influence across the room. Nostalgia maintained its dominance over his wayward soul with an iron fist. The slithering streams of 'water' dipped into the dark recesses of his mind, prodding memories of battles in ages long past, of melodious meetings and his own weakness. Keep your concentration here and now where it belongs. The shackles of remorse were shaken off, though the chains still lingered. The weight of his fallacy did not hinder his progress in etching a perfect seven-point star within the circle of water produced by the Torrent. Come to the center with me Pluvia. Placing his hand upon the ruby and awaiting her to do the same, darkness soon reigned down upon them as its light was stolen.|~|

|~|The primordial darkness with birthed the conceivable universe had encompassed them in the foyer. Not a glimmer of light was showing in the entryway, completely sealed off from the outside world. Whether it was infrared, UV, x-ray or Radio no spectrum of light, visible or not, penetrated through the black luster walls. It was only through a melodic masterpiece that the door would show itself and drown the foyer in light. The melody was preprogrammed by a younger Naught, in the days they shared together in a Realm of Eternal Night; one that embodied their home. You have come to this room for one purpose, dearest nee-sama. From the first time I heard you melody echo through the Kingdom during your test I have needed you to sing for my music.|~|

Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defenses

Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light -
And listen to the music of the night


|~|One could feel the power in his words taking hold of the foyer. The Naught's rugged voice bouncing off the walls with a soft, steady beat. His tone and pitch unjulated with fluidity. Hopefully the two had not been apart so long that their hearts could no longer communicate and she too would know the music of the night.|~|
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Amë Torrent

With a pinch of nervousness, the Torrent unfurled from her tense position where she had drifted to, coming to stand across from the Naught as he called to her. Placing her hand and feeling the subsequent pressure of darkness upon her very skin--it was funny how even it had been turned ebony in this utter Umbra--slither and mitigate biophotons. The feeling of unease slipped down her spine and off of her mind like a silk curtain fluttering to the ground.

The voice which brushed her ears in waves further eased her and a small smile slipped over her lips in the darkness. With a taken breath, she let slip her lines...

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!
And you'll live as you've never lived before ...

Softly, deftly, music shall surround you ...
Feel it, hear it, closing in around you ...
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,
in this darkness which you know you cannot fight -
the darkness of the music of the night ...


Even through the darkness, and unable to touch upon his own mind and heart, she felt that in her memory she possessed that small shard of his mind which she had become aware of, from times long-since passed. They spoke to her and resonated with his own mind, and in doing so, the words slipped forth from her lips and traveled on the musical waves, her somewhat deep yet feminine voice demonstrating how powerful memories could be.


Capt. Pluvia - The Breath and Word
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Shoujax Naught Capt Umbra
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Captain Umbra - The Primordial Enigma
|~|The Torrent had dissected the flow of his words with the utmost expertise, as evolution had intended for their esoteric species. Her sacharrine syllables were a conduit for his song, resonating within his heart and grave. A miniscule distance away a still gate began to stir as the two began to harmonize.|~|

Close your eyes, start a journey through a strange, new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
Close your eyes, and let music set you free
Only then can you belong to me

Floating (floating), falling (falling), sweet intoxication
Touch me (touch me), trust me (trust me), savour each sensation
Let the dream begin
Let your darker side give in
To the power of the music that I write
The power of the music of the night

You alone can make my song take flight
Help me make the music of the night!!


|~|Their boisterous barrage of singing had finally released the chains of fate. Metals creaked and groaned as the foyer split along its Western wall with but a hairline fracture. The thin, insignificant strip of pale ivory light grew with each word that passed their tender lips. Until, at long last, the night was their's. A damp, musky scent of fertile soil and lush grass flooded into the foyer with a cold caress of the wind. Opening inward, the obsidian gate was adorned with homages to the goddess of love and her child, one on each side of the splayed door. A single fish accompanied them, diving downward and upward respectively, and were shadowed by a thin crescent which traced the fishes' silhouette. The bar which connected them all was split, allotting the Captains to escape the grave.|~|

|~|Once again, his filthy soles embraced the coolness of grass, yet it was not trim and neat as he had once remembered. Life flourished, flora had taken seige of his grave as vivacious vines strangled the pillars of marble which adorned the entryway on either side. The wild grass had grown tall enough to hide a giant midget or any of the ferocious predators that now dwelled within the once Desolate Forest. Though the treeline was several dozen yards from the grave, it would be obvious to any who had been here during the reign of Silence that something was amiss. The blackened woods had dawned budding leaves and ever ripening fruit. Shoujax' confusion could not be contained, his scarred skin trembling from the change of warm, stagnant air to the cool shifting weather of the outside world. It was not until his gaze lifted to see the moon, as a waning gibbous, that he knew that this world had broken the shackles that tied it to midnight.|~|

|~|Of course she would discern the same, just as quickly if not faster. So, he pressed on. With his hand on the small of her back he gently nudged them forward. Just straight on through the woods, the Kingdom is just up ahead. His gaze finally fixated on the horizon, beyond the shroud of trees, to the crumbling white castle that lay atop the mountain range ahead. As they continued to trudge through the field of wild flowers, weeds and tall grass, the crashing jangle of his grave's gate echoed predominantly. There would be no turning back now.|~|
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Amë Torrent

A somber expression for an equally serious atmosphere. The sounds all around them, of all things, made for the most subtle--yet most distinct--clue. Lasnight's presence was gone.

Lowering her head, a conflicted expression crossed the tempest's face, shadows pierced by an azure gaze which saw yet wanted to deny the truth. A vice, a hand, his hand, slipped like a noose around her throat and slowly choked her with what some part of her had already known: there was nothing here but a skeleton with no face. Rooted to the spot at the entrance, entranced by the sheer amount of broken possibilities and hopes, Amë found it hard to accept this reality. It felt as if a shard of her soul were being ripped from her very being, giving birth to something she had never wanted to have, but was stuck with regardless. A jagged--no, let us not go down that road again. This jagged heart had already learned how to live, even if it wasn't 'jagless'.

Her jaw set with a slight grind, her movements forceful as she felt the hand of her only other anchor to reality push her forward gently. The fluidity of her motions seemed filled with purpose, anger and sadness twisting into a relentless fractal design which had no beginning and no end, patterns evolving endlessly from the remnants of her peace.

It was somewhat nonsensical to even try and speak now, but if she was going to witness the absence of silence, she might as well participate in the act of raping it too...

"It's all gone..."

On some instinctual level she knew that she'd look back on this day and be able to recall each and every tree which surrounded them; how the flora had changed and how fauna had replaced the absence of itself by noticing each insect within reach. But right now, the tempest only saw one thing, and it was the unhinged and door-less gates of the place she once called their kingdom.

Walking toward it felt like she was slowly walking down the twisted scope of a corridor, the feeling of vertigo and of a heaviness unexplained all at once, bringing her a horrid unpleasantness. Why'd she even come here in the first place... She cursed, and not for the first time, her insatiable curiosity.

A hollow wind whistled against the last vestiges of wood which hung from the hinges of the gates, vines and ferns masquerading its façade with an unwanted pattern--at least, she hated it. She glanced at her fellow Captain--were they even captains anymore? And if they were, of what?--with a helpless gaze, azure lights churning darkly, dangerously close to a warm chocolate which they once had been and to which she promised she'd never return to.

"Is this... really our home?", she knew the answer, she simply wanted to act foolish for once, maybe just one time, and hope in vain.


Capt. Pluvia - The Breath and Word
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Shoujax Naught Capt Umbra
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Captain Umbra - The Primordial Enigma
|~|We are still here, Pluvia. It was a sad attempt in consoling his sister, yet it was all he could muster to comfort her. Indeed the Piscean man was vulnerable to the Torrent of emotions, yet it was due to this vulnerability that he had prepared for the worst. Yet nothing could prepare him for the world which he had embarked. The scarred soul of Naught had not been dwelling too severely on the condition of his adopted sister. Instead he was focusing on the power churning beneath his filthy soles. Although they could see, they were still blind to the luminous display his third Eye had captured 'pon exitting his grave. Robust rivers of power were slithering just beneath them, so he could not help but ask her Surely you've noticed the changed tempo in the melody of night? It had been his understanding that the Torrent could hear what his Eye could only see.|~|

|~|Unlike his sister, he would not be able to recall all the minute details which surrounded them on the night of their homecoming. His memorization of the new features would be slowly etched into his psyche as water sluggishly weathered against stone. The budding trees, alien insects and feral felines which were cautiously examening the false foreigners would all find their place in his ever plotting mind over time, just as their current path had been. As they approached the hanging gate his soles stopped abruptly. The enormity of the situation and her anguish struck him. How careless he was, about his future and her feelings. Although he held a gentle understanding of their past he could not help but fall prey to the indifference and resentment that lingered upon her departure. He knew now that a thought imprisoned deep within his subconscious had finally surfaced: this was all Pluvia's fault. Had she stayed with them nbd endured the Silent Fires of descimination and injustice, perchance this place would still be what it was in the past. He could not possibly express his emotions though, not only in fear of facing Torrential wrath but in an empathetic gesture. Shoujax knew full well that her reasons were justified. The fact that his previous cohorts were spared his wrath had done nothing to sedate its insatiable bloodlust.|~|

|~|Placing a hand upon her shoulder, the youth let loose a solemn smile, his sacharrine syllables stretching the truth just a little. Of course this is our home, Pluvia. Well, mine at least. I had prepared myself before embarking on this quest that I would make my home here; either as a hermit or a respectable Captain. I had just wan--, hoped, that at the very least you would be by my side, Amë. Do not divulge too much. A fear of rejection had been embodied into his soul since before Shoujax was born and born again, it was an inescapable reality for the Piscean escapist. I could understand, however, if you would wish to leave this place, for I have taken the dive into the heart. If I may, however, I would like to advise you to think of this endeavor, this place, as somewhere you are beginning your journey in life, instead of where you've ended up. Inspiring optimism was not one of his gifts yet still the effort was made. His argument was flawed, selfish and most likely unappealing. Still, he stood in place, stalwart and unmoving, awaitng her decision to abandon this place once more or press on through the gates and onto an unknown future.|~|
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Amë Torrent

The voice of a shadow came to her as if from across an empty hall, echoing and somewhat distorted.

This place is dead.

One thought raced through her mind over and over, bringing more questions than answers as sadness began to shift, gracelessly, into a slow frosting anger. So this was what she had been looking forward to... for all these years.

A stark white hell.

The blood drained from her completely, a slight shaking overtaking her frame as she fought to keep herself in check; it was no wonder she could never keep her calm, for the voices in her blood, with each solemn beat, escalated. Their demands? Control. The result? Chaos.

Bubbling, her cloak held diminutive bubbles popping along its navy-colored length, and rose into the air in a translucent mist. It orbited her slowly, revolving around her like a miniature universe...

"No...", it was hard to tell what she was giving this monosyllable to, but within the seconds that followed, her feet took her forward with purpose.

She passed the gates, continued. It was a miracle she could see straight, shapes and shadows meshed together in her mind, the glorious orchestra whispering in her ear a testament and constant, horrid, selfish reminder that this was not what she had left behind so many years before.

And there it was, at last, what she'd been looking for.

A table, dead center in a clear space of land--a plaza once upon a time, now a meadow--stood crumbling. Her pale features, pinched in seething anger, twitched as her teeth showed with the motion of lips separating like a knife cutting through bloodless skin.

Damn the economy of motion, she would enjoy this.

A pulse which rippled outward like an expanding sphere preceded a forceful uppercut to the air, her sleeve heavily following and subsequently lowering over her not-so-pale arm--it was covered in strange patterns which churned into life. Her gesture took but a half-second to register upon reality, it seemed, because just as her clothes settled back, the world exploded into action.

Fauna and flora alike were flung from the remnants of the cobblestone floor in a wave which surrounded her, for drops of moisture now hung in the air like stars for the moment it took her to give them form. Particles vibrated in a violent mist as Amë de-weeded the kingdom for the second time in her life. Step by step, she approached the table in silent appraisal, feeling each and every molecule move at her command, wiping this new world off of her old home until finally, her hands reached the moist obsidian table.

Trembling fingers--she was shaking?--formed tight fists over the shinning surface which reflected an alien sky. An azure gaze counted and recounted each seat and each memory which each throne held until finally, she recognized the empty space where Las--... Lasnight's golden throne should have been.

There was no turning back now. Shoulders slumped as she hunched over the table in silence, evaluating, calculating, remembering Shoujax' words which he had uttered only moments before--strange how a turbulent Torrent could so easily lose track of the world around her.

"... I was foolish back then. I made myself easily accessible--important even--to this world, this plane of existence which now doesn't exist. And I left it...", finally she had uttered those words, finally she had admitted it: she had never held the right to exist in the hearts of anyone. She was supposed to be the shadow on the wall, watching, appraising as history unfolded. Committing a grave mistake, she had accepted Lasnight's invitation to join, to become an important player in the game of existence.

"I'm not leaving it again. This will be my home. And I do mean mine."

The way she turned, the way the words slipped off her lips, they were a warning and a challenge to a formless shadow which she pierced with azure lights, themselves shadowed by orbiting constellations which suffered no collision.

Her mind opened, finally, to the music of the night.
Edited by Amë Torrent, Jun 6 2012, 02:20 PM.


Capt. Pluvia - The Breath and Word
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Shoujax Naught Capt Umbra
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Captain Umbra - The Primordial Enigma
|~|Naught had followed the Torrent's lead as he'd intended. A collage of memories soared through the air with a not-so-nostalgic musk lingering along with it. Festivals, scenes at the infamous saloon he himself opened, the introduction of Arcanum at the Synthesis Shop, all came to him in a poised wave. They refused to stop as the two did, at the first place they informally met; where vivacious vines intertwined relentlessly and birthed him from the forlorn bowels of a dark corridor. She had not stood out to him then as she did now, the proximity of their hearts was far less than the distance between galaxies. Yet now, here they stood, possibly eons later as the only two relics from their day. It was just at the proper moment, when he remembered Pluvia's arduous tasks of laundry and gardening, that his obsidian mane thrashed about as debris struck his scarred skin.|~|

|~|Obviously agitated, the Naught's forefinger cleared his tearduct from what specs of plant and dirt sullied them with an unenthused Ow... Still dusting his shoulder off, rather nonchalantly during her almost metaphysical confession, he paused and met her challenging gaze. Oh my, the clusterfuck of contempt and ambition that clotted his stare. He wanted nothing more than to retort to her challenge with one of his own. Really?? REALLY?! You'd like to go there right now, Pluvia?? But no, there was a time and place for everything. And what better place for the Primordial Shroud to strike than his own domain. That brief resplendence in his eyes that shone so defiantly subsided just as suddenly as it had come, the aged man-child inclining his head to her position.|~|

|~|Of course, darling, nee-sama. I am but a fragmented figment of reality. A two-dimensional shadow that is unfit to lead. A meager Piscean that works best behind the curtains than at the forefront of the theater's stage. And so, the malleable words were twisted into a shape most submissive. He rose once more to his proper stature, shaking the dirt from his mane along the way, and asked So, where do we begin, Captain?|~|
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