Forums » General Roleplay » Two Sides of the Same Coin(Back)

((
>Wrote huge post
>About to share it with the world
>Blue screen of death appears before I pressed 'post reply'
>Cried for only 20 minutes straight
))

Aearion couldn't help but eye Clint most of the time they walked. Poor fella. It was a miracle most of the group managed to get on good terms with these soldiers. Their ruse had worked. Sadly life had a way of making sure there was someone who took the bullet. Good thing it wasn't the Mer, though. Life's bullets weren't much his thing.

There was that hymm again. Aearion hadn't paid it all that much mind when he first heard it, since he always had some sort of music or melody messing about in his head. But it kept reoccurring, and that's when it hit him. The melody was the same hymm the freed ghosts of the Wittaker Mansion hummed as they were freed! The Empress' song had something to do with spirits, by the sound of it. But this chilled Aearion to no end. He felt as if they were walking into a dead men's country.

And boy, did the city deliver in that dead man's country feel. Takurasho and Aearion felt the same thing. Something eerie was in the air, though Aearion just felt that way because of the connection between the Empress and the released spirits he had discovered. His face was a mask though. He seemed to look impressed, and part of him was. Never before had he seen such architecture."You people sure know how to create beauty out of simple buildings." The Mer spoke as he looked around the area.

And then it got revealed he had to share a room with Crow."Oh. Good." Was all he said as he entered the room. It looked nice enough, if a bit empty. The Mer preferred a room to be filled with decorations and... chairs. Regardless he sat down on the pillow and instantly reached for his shakuhachi."I hope you people don't mind music. I intend to show my respect by playing one of your local instruments and share some of my people's wisdom and stories." He spoke with a proud smile. Aearion knew more of a culture's instrument than the culture itself, and it showed. It was difficult at first to get a sound of of the shakuhachi. The flute doesn't have a reed, and therefore was very difficult to get a sound out of. Truly this was a deceptive instrument.

Aearion managed to get a sound out eventually, though. A long and gentle sound, as if meant for meditation. This went on for a short while only.

Takurasho's request was to be fulfilled accordingly. Both men stood to do as asked and fetch a cup of tea. When the men were roughly out of normal ear shot distance just down the corridor a ways the Captain spoke to the Second in an utterance. "I want you to go down and interrogate that other man. That Guide of their's lifted any evil spiritual presence from him so there should be no need to worry about being tainted yourself." A people of such pride and commitment stricken by horror at the mere mention of spirits and the like? What sort of spirits do these people usually deal with to make them so.. peculiar in the subject? The sound of that flute Aearion played filled the ears of those residing nearby and possibly even a little ways into both the third and first levels of the Fortress; this of course only being from the lack of bustle and noise some toil outside in light of the Conference on the first level.

[Due to delay as per the conversation between Zaida and the Butler ] Outside and down the padded snow paths, The Butler moved along side Zaida. "Your clothes are being moved to your room." He said no more to her, only led her and the other women up the ramp to the second level. Not long after the Head and the Second in charge of the Squad that escorted the bulk of the group departed to fulfill the tea request. The Butler could be seen walking down the corridor with the women and Zaida at his side toward the occupied rooms of her comrades. "It seems your friends have arrived just in time." The Butler did not move further allowing Zaida to move on ahead without him to return to her friends. He just stood there, watching for a moments time having sent her forward to meet with her comrades before pivoting on his heel to exit the building, body breaking down into those black sand-like particles that eroded away without a trade.

In the same instance that he broke down into innumerable shards of obsidian was a pool of it being conjured and constructed into another body in the corner of the dungeon Clint was so poorly guarded within. A small hissing sound, like sand being ground against sand resonated from that darkened corner; with there being a sole lantern in this dungeon there was little illumination to light all four corners of the room providing much shadow to vantage from. That guard that sat on the steps leading up into the barracks ignored Clint's request for water, but was disturbed at the sound of another man's voice. "Relieving yourself of those binds is no harsh task for you, Sir Clint." Stepping into the faint, flickering orange glow was the Butler himself. "Do you really find it to be political or diplomatic what have you to pretend you are weak and weary?" The guard stood up. "Who ar--" Behind the guard rose a black silhouette of a figure that immediately bound the guardsman from behind, sealing his mouth and silencing any words that were in attempt to flow by beginning to fill his throat with a black substance.

The black substance continued to pour and cram itself down the suffocating guardsman's gullet. The Lantern was dropped spilling the combustible fluid across the floor setting the room itself alight in that orange illumination. This did not seem to bother the old geezer in the slightest in fact he took clear steps into the blazing flame. The moment his foot stepped into the orange flames that orange turned to a bright azure and the heat was eliminated from the equation; that same fire from the Whittaker mansion that was introduced upon Zaida's awakening in the cellar. That shadowy silhouette that bound the guardsman finally released the lifeless corpse to tumble down the steps and land in the spreading flames. As though the body were paperweight itself it had begun to break apart and float into the air like paper after it had been burned. "Black as sand, strewn across the water's delicate surface. Every grain of sand not left out to the water's conscious body that every prick to its gentle whole may---" He repeated this twice, but to what end? An unfinished poem?. The azure fires had begun to grow dimmer. "Your friends are waiting for you, Sir." The Butler did not really give room for acknowledging any of Clint's questions or reactions should there have been any. With the absence of light so did the Butler and the unknown shadow creature's presence leave the dungeon.

The conference had ended. Gyosei and the Gentleman began a slow walk across the snow covered path through the Fortress, behind them was the mysterious hatted individual who's silence remained unyielding. "Our Empress, you see has a secret." Gyosei spoke. Whatever took place in the conference sure enough opened his mind to seek less enraged talk with one from the Southern Country. "I know not what it may be, but I fear it may be the work of sorcery. Black magic I claim it to be." Should anyone from the second level key in to Gyosei's words; as the three individuals can also be seen in their slow strides from the second level buildings. "It terrifies the men, truth be told and even myself." The Gentleman nodded in odd sympathy. "Mm...mm! I see, I see! Black sorcery is not my forte. I may know of a particular... individual, however... who might see further interest and knowledge into your claims." There was some hesitation in The Gentleman's voice almost as though he knew all too well of what was being referenced to. Gyosei escorted The Gentleman personally to the gates. "Ah, I wish you to stay longer." The Gentleman raised a hand as if to stop any further words from reaching him. "We will meet again rest assured!" And with that he took his leave through the gates, hands folded behind his back as he hummed that mysterious hymn. Gyosei's head cocked back recognizing the rhythm and tone of that tune, but let it go assuming it to be coincidence although he did find it peculiar that there was no request for faster mode of transportation to move The Gentleman to his desired destination. Gyosei watched as that husky visage of his faded away in the continual flurry of snow and white haze. That silent veiled person kept aloof behind Gyosei although showed no signs of hostility. Those two remained there until the last trace of The Gentleman's image was whisked away by a moderate snow filled breeze.

{Poor Rynh }
"Nonsense," Takurasho would reply with a short wave of his hand, dismissing Aranel's assumptions of herself. "I am certain we will... figure something out." He didn't seem certain. Nonetheless, he attempted to be reassuring, & when he noticed her shivers he would remove his fur coat to drape it across her shoulders. The man's demeanor ultimately remained stoic, brows furrowed a little as though troubled. Her question was put off as he attempted to come up with an explanation that didn't sound paranoid. Long lazy strides carried him back across the room, where he would lean his back against the doorway, head tilting to the side as the sound of Aearion's playing reached them.

Takurasho would listen in silence. For once his countenance smoothed, eyes softening as the frown that generally dominated his expression dissipated. Although his arms were crossed, his stance was lackadaisical, & he stared at the floor with a look of peace.
Music soothes the savage beast, or so they say.
When he spoke, it was at a sleepy murmur, though still audible enough for her to hear. "I believe she is," he said at last. "Still they avoided my question, which leads me to believe they must know something. I cannot imagine why they would keep her presence a secret from us... but I feel confident that- as she was in our last mission- she's a little ways ahead of us." Takurasho would idly massage his "new" left hand with the right one. It's fingers were slightly shorter than his original hand's, the skin tone a little bit darker, which would have looked odd had it not been carefully concealed by the pair of gloves he wore. He was pleased to find that it's nerves were fully functioning- he could feel everything as though he'd been born with the appendage.

The sound of approaching footsteps outside of their door distracted him. "That must be the tea," he'd say, turning to open the door & poking his head into the hallway. He glanced towards Zaida, frowned, then withdrew back inside. "No, just a-" it was then that realization struck him. Takurasho threw open the door, emerging in full this time. He hadn't recognized her right away, what with her concubine's attire & exposed hair, but this was definitely Zaida! He'd call her name as if uncertain, tone just as uncharacteristically bewildered as his slack-jawed expression. The Butler- & his aura- had already dissipated by now.

Zaida's face flushed at the sound of her name being called. She looked down, her hand going to try and cover her hair. For a second she did cover the front of it, but she realized it would just draw attention to it. She then moved her hand into a loose fist and tugged at the strange clothes she wore. Her face got even more pale and she felt sick.

She licked her lips and refused tomeet Takurasho's eyes, or even look at his face, "I am fine." Her voice was terse and quiet. She radiated uncomfortable feelings and submissive behaviour.

Crow had released Aranel's hand once they regrouped with the others. Following the second in command to the city, and then being led into the city. Her masked face moved idly about, observing the structures and the wall that surrounded the city.

Crow's coarse shoes carried her behind the fellow leading her, her pale gaze drifting to stare at the Mer's back. When they neared the room that they were to share, Crow looks towards the male that was leading them and nods to them, "This will be suitable. You are dismissed."

Once inside, Crow's hand shuts the door and turns to look over her shoulder at the furniture provided. Crow's robes drip, the snow melting and hitting the ground in small, dirtied droplets. Crow's form moves towards the low-chair and she sits cross-legged upon it, her hands moving upwards to take her dirtied, tri-cornered hat and set it upon the table, her right hand brushing off what snow was still there. Her left hand digs into her robes to pull out the small, blue tome, opening its contents and beginning to read.

((I have poor luck when it comes to these things. But at least it's a valid reason for a post to suck D; ))

It was clear on Aearion's face the usage of the flute was strenuous. Once he was done playing, he was clearly flustered, needing to catch his breath. During this period he had been contemplating his task. They needed information on a military man. A general, most likely. How were they to get information out of him? Getting close to the Empress seemed to be the best way to get information on a man of interest. The idea of him being offered as a bard for the Empress' glory still rumaged through Aearion's head. The group had to know of this, but first, ammends needed to be made.

Aearion knew that for this group to work, he couldn't keep on quarreling with Crow. Fate had put them in the same room, thanks fate, and it was best to get this over with. If not become neutral, at least come to a truce until their task was over.

The Mer turned his gaze to Crow and took a deep breath before sounding as sincere as he possibly could."Crow, listen." He tried to get her attention."I'm sorry about the way I have acted around you. I know I can be rash and jump to conclusions from time to time. I can't help it. I freak out around things I don't know." He realized he was blabbering on now."Look, all I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. I won't get in your hair anymore from now on. I think we'll both sleep better knowing neither of us will wake up with a knife against our throat. Can we work out a truce?" He offered.

Crow's pale gaze moved left, to right, and her right hand flipped the occasional page of the blue tome. Words were scribbled in the corners of pictures depicting figures and gestures, as well as peculiar items.
Crow's head lifts subtly, her pale eyes moving slowly to look at the Mer, and she stares. After listening for a very short period of time, Crow looks away, her attention returning to the blue tome, "You sound so pitiful, but I will not pity you." The Mer begins his second set of sentences, and Crow's chest lifts up, a steady breath being released through her nose as she closes the blue tome, gently. "You are apologizing?" A pause, "And you think that you have stepped in my way, by yelling words at me? You would know that you crossed my goals by how much blood you would be losing, and, we are not at war, last time I thought upon the notion." Crow's pale gaze turns to the Mer, glaring at him...until her facial features relax, a little. "Yet you wish for peace." Crow's shoulders rise in a shrugging fashion, "You have much more to gain from what you propose; a cease fire in your favor, is not interesting to me."

Crow's gaze turns away from the Mer and returns to the tome, re-opening it. "Tell me, Merman, what do you have to gain from interrogating the man-at-arms?"

((That sucks! My comp does that often... I hope it's fixable.))

Although he didn't sound too sure of himself, his attempt at helping her out cheered her up a little. The calming melody Aearion played also helped her a great deal, leaving her a ball of cloth, folded and strewn about, on the mat on the floor. She didn't much see a reason to get up until Takurasho mentioned the tea was arriving and... seemed surprised? What, was he wrong?

Aranel scrambled to get up and rush over towards the blob of moving color she assumed was the man. When she peered out (as if she'd understand what she saw). His uttering of Zaida's name did catch her attention and she tilted her head. "Eh?" she mumbled. She inched past Tak and closed in on Zaida, her visage becoming less blurry the closer she got.

"It's you!" she cheered. "You're alive! I was so scared!" And if Zaida didn't move, she'd get a glomp and a half from Aranel. "I thought I failed, I thought we all failed!" Squeeze snuggle squeeze.

When she finally pulled away, she looked at the somewhat-blurry woman (the closer she is, the clearer her vision). "Pretty color; I can't tell too much but I think you might look pretty in that." Wow, wait, what? That sounded sorta rude. "Er... not what I meant! Augh... um... sorry, nevermind, you're pretty either way sorry...." Women can be so overly sensitive, and she was so afraid of saying the wrong thing and offending her.

Try copying and pasting the Error Code next time it happens. Goggle will give you a direct answer with that. Hopefully it's a fixable problem and not like what I had at one point which prohibited me from even booting my computer; turned out to be a fried hard drive. Also, moving things along a smidge just to make sure things don't die here. Been waiting for everyone to post accordingly. ))

Gyosei turned about to face that ever mysterious individual with that large straw hat. "Why is it I do not know your name nor from which division you are from?" There was no reply. Gyosei scoffed and brushed passed to attend to the group of Nobles that apparently desired audience with him per the servant's soft spoken notice during the Conference. Just before reaching the ramp that led to the second level Gyosei turned a glance to see if that person was still where he last saw him. There was nothing to see but the gentle fall of snow. A few flakes sticking to the colder extremities such as the ends of hair and the lifted wrinkles in his clothes.

As was told to Zaida not long after her being inflicted with the loving glomps of their fair Aranel was that little girl who led Zaida to see that peculiar building just before Gyosei retrieved her. In the girls arms were familiar clothes folded neatly and stacked. The little girl, Tomoe, stood silently but with a blissful smile of innocence above all. That was, until it was noticed Zaida was being glomped by another female. Tomoe was quick to drop the clothes she so loyally carried and rushed over to Zaida to shove Aranel; or at least attempt to, from upon Zaida. "No!" She peeped. "Master Zaida must not be touched by any impure!" Impure? If the removal of Aranel was successful on her part she would hold on to tightly glaring up at Aranel, or not.. well.. there would just be a little girl flailing her arms around in futile attempts to pummel Aranel with feather-felt hits still shouting however "Master Zaida must not be touched by any impure!"

There was a small sound that came from the clothes. A marble had rolled out from underneath the layers of clothing and popped onto the floor, then begun to roll around before coming to a stop against the wall where it just *CLICK*ed again. In the girl's fit of fury she did not notice the item being dropped from the collection of clothings.

Zaida pulled away and was thankful when Aranel was driven away from her. Her heart-rate rose and her breath came in short breathes, "Don't touch me!" Her voice was a scared hiss and her arms went up to protect herself from being touched.

She put her arms in front of her face, elbows out. She wasn't sick yet, but another touch would send her into a full on panic. She closed her eyes and found found the direction to Mecca and got down, beginning to pray in Arabic.

Aranel retreated a step back, the yell having startled her. She looked a bit hurt. The little girl also seemed to hurt her with words, too, but it probably wasn't intentional. Aranel was an adult woman and she saw that as basically being called, well, a woman who fooled around with just about everyone. That's what impure meant, right? Her hands gently touched the little girl's shoulders, even through the soft pummeling, and she knelt down. She had a hard time focusing on any one part of the child's blurry image. This was mainly due to trying to nudge her away, but still keep her hands gently on her shoulders. She wanted a little distance.

The young woman tilted her head. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. "Stop hitting me, please-- I've known this woman for a few days now, and I can't really place what you mean." She thought of a way of asking without sounding like she was trying to get up in Zaida's business.

Instead of saying anything, she let her arms fall to her sides, fingers brushing the floor as she sat there. Aranel looked toward Zaida and gave her a certain look. It wasn't really anger, but... something else. She was hurt she didn't trust her, and didn't at least appreciate the fact she was so worried. Or that they tried to save her. She would normally understand that she was in shock, but the first time it happened, she didn't seem to even consider it. Like it never happened at all. Like it didn't matter.

So was hurt and offended. Sensitive Aranel!

She also heard the marble, but couldn't see it, so thought it was someone's shoe scraping or something (though they likely abandoned their shoes at the doors).

After lapsing into silence, and after an answer (if any) was given to her, the girl stood up and released a sigh. "I'm going to go for a walk," she said, her voice moderately quiet. "I'll be back shortly." A little smile was given to whoever could see her (she couldn't tell if anyone saw it). One will quickly come to realize that when Aranel is upset, she likes to walk off and be a dumbshiz by taking a breather. But it helps a good deal.

If she passed anybody on her way out, she'd either smile and keep walking, or stop to converse, depending on the situation. Either way, a distraction was necessary or she'd get kinda teary. Over the dumbest of things, too!

Aranel was temporarily stopped by Aearion as he entered the hall to check things out. SHe could pick him out easily - his blur was the most colorful! A forced grin, as wide as could be, was given to the man and she nodded. "I'm alright. I just need some fresh air." YEAH RIGHT ARANEL YOU JUST GOT INSIDE FROM BEING OUT IN "FRESH AIR" FOR A WHILE NOW GOD.

If she wasn't stopped (she was trying to be as pleasant and happy-looking as possible to keep that from happening), she'd continue on her glorious journey to exit of this building, if only to just stand in the snow.

((Addition for conversation's sake. . Also LOL Aearion. SHH NO TEARS ONLY SLEEP NOW))

The back of Crow's middle finger trailed along the tome's words, moving down and to the left once it reaches the end of text. Her pale gaze does not leave the tome's pages, "No, we are not. War is not about hating and exchanging words, it is about death and those left alive. You may irritate me with your senseless words, but I have not found a logical reason to have you killed. A cease-fire is a non-aggression pact, and I cannot agree to those terms."

Crow's fingers grasp the next page and she turns the parchment over. "Especially not, if you are to remain a certain fellow's faithful tool; as you are not interested in hidden magic, nor have a clear use for a secret weapon. Perhaps he wishes for you to kill the man-at-arms, after handing over what information he cannot retrieve himself." Crow's hand turns the next page, "No matter the cause, how irrelevant. You would do it, if you were tasked to do so."

By now, Crow's pale gaze drifts upwards from the blue tome, finding the room strangely lacking in occupants. Crow's pale gaze turns her head towards the door, and she un-crosses her legs, standing slowly. She walks over to the door and takes a glance outwards, before her right hand catches the door's edge and she shuts it, locking it if a lock was present. She then returns to her seat, sits down upon it with her legs crossed, and continues reading.

Zaida kept praying until her voice was hoarse. She used it as a defensive tactic - no one would be getting close to her. She sounded insane. When she finally ran out of words to speak, she looked up, her brown eyes swollen and puffy.

She practically dove for her clothing when she saw it - her plan to keep the clothing on and rejoin the General all but gone. She didn't care anymore. All she wanted to so was hide her hair. She quickly moved her wrists to twist it above her head and pulled on the hijab, finding an instant sense of relief wash over her as Zaida returned, her eyes glowing for a second before turning back to their 'natural' green.

Apologizing ahead of time. Things on my end sort of picked up and I hadn't had time to respond. I should be able to work something in by tomorrow evening at the latest. Real sorry for any of you that've been waiting. ))

{Likewise. Expecting a baby in a few weeks, between work & appointments I haven't been on the laptop much, but I'm keeping an eye on things via mobile should anyone need to contact me & I intend on posting soon!}

{Sorry for the wait guys!}

Although he was fairly familiar with Arabic culture & knew his stare was not helping poor Zaida's discomfort, it would be a moment before Takurasho was able to {uncertainly} avert his gaze. He'd been right... not that he doubted himself, of course... but her arrival rekindled the raging series of questions he'd barely managed to subdue earlier. He was confounded, suspicious, & admittedly a tad amused {by Aranel's reaction to Zaida's reappearance}. "أعني أي ازدراء..." {"I mean no disrespect"} he would say gently before she began to pray, "ولا Aranel." {"Nor Aranel"} His accent was certainly off, but the vetala managed to speak her native tongue with relative eloquence. The sudden patter of little feet raised his gaze. Tomoe was given a very stern frown, though it was her words that caused Takurasho's brows to knit. "Impure?" he repeated, tone dangerously low, "Master Zaida?" He made no attempts to hide his displeasure for the child. Granted, he was naturally awful with young persons, but this one in particular had an unusual aura about her. He shuddered slightly.
Ugh. Children.

Takurasho would make no attempts to stop Aranel as she began to leave. He was not entirely trusting of this unfamiliar place, especially due to a certain vibe that engulfed them, but he was almost as awful with women as he was with children. Her feelings were hurt, & he only knew so many tactics for assuaging upset humans. At least she had yet to remove the fur coat he'd passed along to her. If anything, she wouldn't catch cold from heading outside.

As Aearion emerged & Zaida donned her hijab, Takurasho would motion for his & Aranel's room. "Perhaps we three should discuss such matters in a more private enclosure..." he would suggest, glancing up & down the hall to make sure they weren't already being eavesdropped upon. "I'm certain you have much to share, Zaida, &... little girl..." that terrifically grumpy gaze returned to Tomoe for a moment. "I believe you should run along to your parents. Zaida will be perfectly safe now that she is again among her companions." He'd wave a hand at her as though attempting to shoo a stray.

{Tis' not a problem! Expecting children is a very exciting and time-consuming process, so I hear. I think I can forgive, just this once~}

Crow’s blue tome was held within her left hand, her thumb pressing into the space between pages as she withdraws the ink vial and quill pen, separately, from her robes, and placing them upon the table in front of her.

Is it not odd? Look closely. Love and hate, so closely resemble each other. How could they be so different?

Crow’s pale skin was illuminated by the crystal attached to her belt, her gaze drifting to the opened pages of the blue tome, a strange symbol with several notes underneath it on the page and more notes on the next page. Crow’s left hand holds the book open, while her right hand dips the quill pen into the ink, starting to draw on the table’s surface. Her delicate hand creates a ring of black ink along the table, moving the quill pen and dipping it back into the ink.

They are as old as they are old. But what is the difference? Of age, of knowledge, of culture?

Crow’s quill pen is drawn across the surface, creating another circle within the first one, then another circle a few inches inside the second one. Then her quill pen moves to dip back into the ink, her gaze looking at the book held within her left hand.

Must be the darkness. They say it crusts around the heart and soul. Makes a person black as death.


Crow’s quill pen moves from the South-West section of the inner-most circle, to the North, directly in the middle of the circle, to the South-East of the circle, to the West of the circle, then to the East of the circle. Then right hand dips the quill pen back into the ink vial.

Both destroy. Saving anything destroys something else. That is the grey spot between decisions.

Crow’s quill pen draws strange symbols between the second and third circle, then words, inside the same circle, and then inside the third circle, then inside the points of the created star. Crow’s gaze returns to the opened book, then back to the symbol, drawing the last, strange symbol in the middle of the whole design

Crow’s left hand shuts the book and her mouth moves, silently whispering to herself, her right hand placing the quill pen back within the ink vial, her right hand then hovering over the design, a faint, black flame erupting from the black ink and smoldering, until cooling. The table’s legs give a shudder, then lift up, one-by-one, and settle back down. Crow’s legs un-cross as she slides off of her chair, near the corner of the table. She places the blue tome back within her robes and her right hand reaches out, plucking the ink vial and the quill pen up, one-by-one, and placing them within her robes. The table idly moves up and down, subtly, as if it were breathing. Crow’s gaze drifts to it, “These chairs are yours. Eat them.”

The table’s legs tap the carpet, moving to stand over the chair. It lowers itself, teeth of wood appearing in a wide-stretched mouth, along the underside of the table. It dismantles the cushion and the wood underneath, devouring the chair. It then does the same to the other chair, as Crow watches the door to the room idly, her expression calm. As the table finishes with its meal, it stretches and bends, warping into a larger table.

[Wishing you the best into the new frontier of fatherhood, Takurasho! Whenever that bundle of whatever you'd like to call it comes out. Boy or girl? )

Everything in the fortress seemed to be in wait for something greater. The words Tomoe spewed to Aranel was in a squeaking shout. Tearing herself from Aranel's grip shortly after her shoulders had been grabbed hold of or until she was let go, either way worked. There was really nothing more Tomoe said, but she did make the attempt to stand by Zaida's side until the very end so it seemed; if it meant it. The little girl's face so full of rage, cheeks puffs up and arms crossed. Despite Aranel's approach and learning what she meant by the word Impure gave no way for word of tongue. She just stood, arms folded over her chest glaring Aranel in the eye with a look that could kill were it a tangible force.

The marble Aearion so luckily caught notice of and took into his possession felt as it were an ordinary marble; a child's play thing, but one of black material? The object were not transparent though it felt of glass nor was it a solid object for it were hollow beyond its thin yet impregnable, flawless surface. Thee was however.. something..moving.. something squirming on the inside as it were a cloud of sheer black.

Gyosei finally made his arrival onto the building there was no motion to move and allow Aranel clearway passage passed him as he quickly examined her attire which presumed this woman to be of the group he sought to congregate with. "You are of the Nobles that wish to see me?" If his words did not halt her then his physique sure enough would have being firmly planted where he stood bumping into him will be almost like bumping into an armored rock. Yes, an armored rock. Who the hell puts armor on a rock anyway?

All Tomoe could do was stand and take the; what she felt for mildly belittling, words to leave. Giving Takurasho one final glare of utter gut wrenching disgust before hurrying over to exit where their Warlord attempted conversation with Aranel. "Our Empress will have your heads!" In a venomous whisper. There were no further words of conflict for what little she did say as Tomoe left.

In that dungeon. The Second Head of the scout squad finally arrived to visit Clint. With the lantern having been shattered it was utterly dark in this cellar. "Mn.. Was NO ONE watching this guy?!" The few troops that were in the barracks staying warm apologized, but placed blame on a young fellow, the one whom was initially Clint's watchdog. He spat and snatched up a lantern that hung on the side, taking a small flame by stick to light the lantern giving it the warm orange glow. The small stick he found to be of upcoming use; resembling that of chopstick if anything and kept it on his person between his teeth. Down into the cellar he descended providing some form of light to cast on the pitch black of the dungeon.

"Wake up if you aren't already! We need some information out of you!" He bellowed. His voice sure enough echoed and reverberated in the small confines. Clint's weakened form; if he truly was weakened was illuminated by the lantern. "So. These Noblemen. What exactly are you all, hm?" The Lantern was set down beside Clint although a distance enough away to be able to keep it out of Clint's immediate reach with any of his appendages. Both eyes mainly focused on those mechanical arms of his which sent disgust rippling through to his very core. Slow steps encircled the bound thief sure enough in his attempts to intimidate this mysterious male.

Memory Shard

The immediate proximity around Takurasho's hand created a small flux around it that lasted only a brief moment, but in that moment Takurasho will find himself dragged to another part of.. the world? Color was stripped from this universe although there were some pivotal images that could be struck as monuments to remember. A clock tower. Ghastly images of people moving in stop & go motions about their day-to-day lives in intervals of four seconds for each image. The sounds, however persisted as white noise banter and possibly a sale of some carrots going on to the left. The only fluid motions were his own: Takurasho's, though he donned a new sort of clothing. Robes cloaked his form. The smell of delicious baked foods held tasteful to the air. From just behind him arose a voice, a rather familiar one at that. It were a female's voice. Should Takurasho turn around will he find himself confronted by The Lady although she spoke to him under another name. Yantume [Ya-n-toom]. Her motions were swift and fluid just as Takurasho's own despite the periodical change of scenery around them. In her motions her arms draped over both shoulders with a swift lean in that was gradually slowing down as all was being consumed by white until all was lost in the ominous glare along with the sensations of touch, smell, hearing.

A moment in time elsewhere..?

Aranel's swift movement wasn't to be mistaken with rushing toward the nearest exit. She closed in quickly on Gyosei but without realizing whoever was there would not move. At a distance, it simply appeared he was part of the scenery - a blurry aurora of colors cast across the walls and floors., nothing more.

When she drew closer, it seemed off. Her hand extended to feel him, though coupled with the texture and the subtle movements a human body did, she realized she was touching a man. She would have ran into him, since she continued to take a step even as she managed to touch him, but she stopped herself, realizing this wasn't a wall. Close enough though. It didn't dawn on her who until he spoke, and then she retracted her hands with a surprised yelp.

Clamoring backwards, she fumbled for an apologetic bow (bowing was good, right?). "Uhm, yes sir. I am. I--" she paused. What was her explanation for all that? For her leaving and touching all up on that armored torso? Tomoe's words weren't replied to, but noted.