Blasphemous Brotherhood

Wind whispers through the broken landscape; ghosts of the past lingering and speaking to those who would listen. The sun sets, its steady radiance broken by a destroyed castle in the background. The air was chilly this evening and a fog hung in the air.


With a sigh Seven looked into the distance, eyes casually making out what was left of the castle’s remains. He was clad in his normal attire; a black tank top tucked into his baggy black cargo pants that were, in turn, tucked into his black combat boots. His hair was the usual mass of spiky blonde hair that stood wildly on his head. His eyes a cold steely grey in hue.

He sighed as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and placed it in his lips, a small drag from the cancers tick had the cherry lighting brightly as if it were magic. Seven was perched on a broken stone wall with much on his mind. At his side there was a gun-metal grey staff, six feet in length, leaning against it as well. It pulsed with a vibrant array of magics both ancient and new. He exhaled, allowing the smoke to roll from his lips and curl in the air in intricate swirls and designs. These days were just not as easy as before.

With a sigh he leaned back, kicked his legs up on the stone wall and laid down on that broken stone wall and took another drag from his cigarette. His eyes drifted closed and he breathed in deep another hit of smoke.

’ What am I going to do? If I make a move bad things are going to happen to people I care about. Heh, people I care about. I remember a time I’d wanted to kill those people. That damned General. Maybe….maybe he can help. After all….we are Brothers.

And with that the cigarette slipped from his lips to the ground and he drifted off into a light slumber.

Ahh, how easy it was to change; to, in a moment, sign oneself away as if certain and yet as time rolls on, realize just what kind of consequence that inferred. He had warned many diligently about signing on. Signing in.

Like a shadow beckoned to his very thought, he too ended up looming there. His vessel was limited, but not entirely physical. Once again having honed in on his contractee, he squatted like an inappropriate reflection. His current look was reminiscent of older days; while in red and black decrying his maker, with gauntlets brazen and grieves of gold, he had a less burly form and something of the young man he had first been known as to Seven--late teens, early twenties at best. It made the refined wall balance simpler. That, and gave him his favored katanas again. He hadn't used the older swords in ages. The serpent-laced warrior stared ahead more dully with iced over eyes. Those had never once changed; they remained dull, sharpened only by a killer's instinct and impulse in battle--heartless and shallow. His hair had even reprised its comical lavender-pink fray as opposed to the bladed, gruesome appeal of his later years. The only difference, aside from color format, that Seven might notice from the old days was the longblades crossed behind him being replaced with a cruelly sheening bow and quiver. One might note the serraded edge it had been given. Even that was somehow metallic and brutal.

"Falling asleep on a perch is a good way to die." He reminded passively. The voice was quiet, shallow and muttered like in his known youth. His transitory state made his identifying points wander, these days. Hopefully that perked Seven up. "Hopefully not longing for anything lost." No basal thundering voice, no rattling steel and serpents. Just a shell of a man hiding something far more abysmal beneath it, meagerly behind a skin of fairness and human fragility. "Where have you been." He began.

A stag rushed into green pastures and stopped dead center, its head dipping to gnaw at the sweet grass at its feet. Something rustled in the bushes and the stag lifted it heads and began speaking. ‘Falling asleep on a perch is a good way to die.’

Seven quirked a brow and opened his eyes. That familiar tugging on his presence pushed him into immediate alertness and his ankle, again, burned with a dull ache where his Vengeance mark was etched in cuneiform upon his ankle. He swung his legs from the wall and placed them firmly on the ground, pulling from his pocket another cigarette, taking the long drag and exhaling the smoking; this time in sloppy clouds that dissipated as it rose.

”You know…you really shouldn’t be sneaking up on sneaking people. One of these days you might stumble onto someone less lazy than I am and get yourself killed.”

Seven chuckled and lifted his gaze to stare upon his beloved General. How long had it been since they had really seen or spoken? Ages; that was the best way to put it. Seven shook his head letting the last bit of sleepiness fade from him as he stood now and stretched.

”Where have I been? I’ve been here and there; wandering like I always do. Looking for the troublesome man that bound me into contract so I could finally have something to do. And what did I find? No one. No brothers, nothing. So, one could ask, where have you been?”

Seven leaned back against that broken wall still staring upon Rudianos, Santhis….whatever the hell he went by these days. He was reminiscent of the ‘man’ Seven had first met, what with his attire and Eastern styled blades. However, the bow was a nice touch. He had changed so much, hell, they both had.

"Then let them." he answered blankly. He had no love for anything in this life, and whoever could destroy what he had become was welcome. Similarly, he dropped in to a more balanced footing on the ground. Seven should be able to see that some things never changed: That animal posturing, that had on his trusted blade, and the coil of his body as if even expecting his own brother to strike. Of course, that had never happened, but... his body did not allow such ideas as casuality.

"Sealed. Inconveniently." His blade was drawn, though not particularly against Seven; it brandished slowly in the air before him before resting in an opposing palm that inspected its sharpened edge. It was far too defined for the soft steel it appeared as, brazen like his arm and footwear. "A bit... divided." His eyes snapped up sharply, and for a moment some sense of personality reflected through them: this being a moment of bitter madness with the hues focusing and unfocusing rapidly. "Brother Brutality died in a battle leading up to the end. Brother Deception still lurks; I do not think he is yet aware of my return, but I choose to watch his behavior. Brother Perfection has been reborn and seems to have forgotten herself." Yes, brother, herself. Treachery is still missing in action, which I suppose is apt... and currently I am working to retrieve Hate from what has become of him." There were others, of course, but that was a formidable list of why it was hard to contact any of them.

A tail still loomed behind him. That... was never going to change, nor was the serpentine head capping it. Now, however, it was plated in red steels and etched in continued cuneiform script that managed to look, appropriately, like a viper's reticulation in gold. Red and yellow was a dangerous fellow.

"You seek work. I have work. A sacrifice is needed, and while I am certain I could bring it upon any fool, I am looking for... just the right form of irony therein. Is there any method where my benefit could also be yours?" Of course, he kept the details fairly confidential.



((My current WIP for him, albeit this is when he has the blade hair and not the weird purple fray, also in his western blade armaments rather than eastern:

))

”Harsh.”

Seven shook his head at the mention of him being sealed. Seven had the same happen to him on one occasion but he’d broken free as the mage who’d sealed him away was hardly any of notable skill. But as the General went on about the death of their brother and the loss of memory in one; he felt a pang of loss. He had no idea why, aside from Rudianos himself, Seven had only met one other brother. Some kind of intelligent monster.

The rest of the brothers were either gone or apparently in some sort of disarray. Being bound by contract had Seven kind of obligated to help find them; but holding a high level of respect for Rudianos, no, Santhis himself had Seven more than willing to help out. Not that he would show it much, what with him leaning there, smoking his cigarette and looking quite bored with the conversation. It was good to be back in the game, he was beginning to get tired of just hanging around not doing much; and that’s when the General spoke what seemed to be the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

”We may be able to…make an arrangement, General.”

There was no way he could pass up such a sweet opportunity.

” You need a sacrifice, I need that sonuva bitch Leviathan dead; or worse. I’m sure you remember him, my brother, the idiot. He has threatened Ender, and a mutual acquaintance; Penance. He also has my son. I’m not sure how ironic it would be to tear him limb from limb, slowly, and boil him in oil…but it would prove to have some gain on both parts.”

Seven was seething now, heat seeming to radiate off of him as he thought of Leviathan. It seemed he held some resent towards him, and he had. Regardless, he wouldn’t let his rage take over. Hopefully, for his sake, Rudianos would agree for him to the sacrifice.

Let out a weary chuckle. "Penance." At least he was capable of some form of expression, it seemed. He returned his dull gaze to the horizon. "Yes. She, too, was given offer of this sacrifice and suggested the same individual. And... as she, too, is distantly family--" likely an idea new to Seven, "perhaps we have the perfect candidate."

He hesitated, giving his blade a few free-hand swings with loosened grip to rotate around his hand as one might have expected of a dagger instead. "It is not mere blood that we want. It is a fate worse than death, from which the last candidate suffered pain near-everlasting. Mi Avverssione is gone. Hatred, a fundamental piece of the brotherhood--as without him it would have never been conceived--was strangled out after endless aeons by his own host. And in such, we require a new host. There is but one source to draw him from, yet... many methods of achieving one heading there. I know little of Leviathan, but I doubt the common trickery of convincing him he is slaying the last vestiges of evil would work. Unless, of course... he feels it would detriment you." his eye slid to Seven, and he sheathed his blade. "Does that seem in his character? Attempting to destroy, in his perception, a force that drives you?"

” I had heard somehow that Penance was a relative of some sort.”

It was to no surprise to him this time; he’d heard it from Penance herself. Regardless, he smiled to know she had too offered up his brother. Though as Rudianos spoke Seven began to doubt.

Alas, General, he is the type to destroy anything that drives me. Sometimes I believe he was brought into the fold by Father simply to test me at every turn. I do suppose that would prove a problem in tricking him into a trap. If he believes his suffering would aid me in any way; he would be more inclined to begin living a good life of riches instead of his poor life of evil and annoyance. We could…”

Seven cut off by taking another drag. He had an idea, but what would that entail?

”We could use Penance as bait. She’s a good friend of mine and of Leviathan’s…at least he uses her to his own end. If he were to somehow find out that her interactions with us, rather, me were to my advantage much more than his own. If she were completing some form of treachery against him, he’d be more than inclined to attack her…at this point I’m not sure how strong he is, though.”

As the one who had torn Leviathan’s power form them and bound them to crystal orbs that he’d spread all over, he knew just how powerful Leviathan was when he had his power. He’d since collected some of the orbs, and Seven had no idea of how powerful he was at this point. He’d done it once, but at the cost of more human lives than he’d care to admit he’d sacrificed. Could he do it again?

"You misunderstand. That very intent can be turned against him."

He had spent too many years with his plotting 'Father'. And, beyond that, unlike his father he was thoroughly capable of a lie. It increased ease. "Simple. The right word needs to be leaked to him. That the current driving force behind you is, simultaneously, the force that is driving Penance into the madness she so readily tells the world about. For it is, after all, her grandfather. His heart still beats in a mythical location."

"What he needs not know is the method that is rumored to be the only true way of destroying it is, in fact, the method of <i>becoming</i> it. And then, all he will know is blacknes, imprisonment, and seething hatred."

He clarified simply. "His strength will be irrelevent, as long as the appropriate lore is afforded to him. The ritual blade, crafted in powerful and unknown runes, that has only made it so far into the halls. Of course, I'll move it away from the heart, so as to make it look like a former struggle interfered. It is, in fact, the simple catalyst. One needs not know that. Let it be said that hatred will always be reborn unless so-destroyed. And they will fall into it, and his heart will take place in this chamber, and his body will take the essence of Mi Avverssione, and he will be lost to all but his own hells."

...Twisted little fucker, this one.

((Many apologies for the wait, Min. Been busy the last couple of days.)


Seven listened to the General’s reasoning and he tried to follow as best he could. Truth be told; Seven wasn’t much of a schemer. He was more the type to put his resources towards one, very obvious end and make it happen through sheer force of will. This…he would need a little instructing on.

”Forgive me, General, I’m not the scheming type. However, you direct me and I’ll gladly follow any order. I’m sure I can have whatever word that need be spread far enough; sure to fall on the ears of his ever present minions. I have to say…”

Seven paused to take another drag from his cigarette. He didn’t really know why he held such a fondness of the foul smoke rolling into his lungs; he’d long since become invulnerable to the effects of such humanly things.

”Blackness, imprisonment and seething hatred. That basically sums up Leviathan as a whole. So long as it rids me of him, though. Where should we start?”

Seven pondered just exactly what this could entail. Leviathan would be imprisoned for sure, but would he find a way to use this to his advantage like everything else? Hell, he had figured out some way to part himself from Seven entirely once he had gained control. And since he’d only become stronger; just like Father. There was a feeling in the pit of his gut that just wouldn’t go away. Nothing good could ever come from plotting with, or against Leviathan. He was crafty. Regardless, Seven leaned away from the wall.

”I’d like to propose we pull Ender into the Brotherhood, General.”

((No problem dude. I figured. You're a family man now.))

"Mm. As long as he has... something that could be called a heart or core." He fished indirectly, without needing a straightforward question. But as for what, exactly, should be told to him... that is what you would know better than I. The articulations... of his mind are not known to me. A heart, a specific blade... and once that lore reaches him well, we will follow it with the location." He... did not seem prone to give that away yet. Erodious' own servants had never known it. There was something intimately trusting about the relationship these two had. In a way, it was another possessive method of keeping their twisted bond cloistered. "Spread your word your way, and tell me of how to find his subordinates so that I might send Deception at them." Yes, there was even a brother of Deception, once called Seed of Deceit. "And then let him loathe us all he wants. Such loathing from Set was what empowered us to begin with." Trapped in his own walls. "Driven by hatred, to become hatred."

...Ender's suggestion drew another blank stare to the horizon with protracted silence. "...Tell me of Ender." He knew little there.

Seven thought for a moment, dropping that cigarette to the ground and snuffing the life out of it.

”Surprisingly, Leviathan very much does have a heart. As for what he needs to be told; it’s simple. It needs to be something along the lines of a higher power, something that would not only make him godlike, but it would help him be worry-free of ever being sealed again. Therein lies your irony, General.”

Moving on. Rudianos stared into the sky and asked to be told about Ender. Where to start?

”Ender’s…well, Ender. He’s a crafty bastard, he works magic and technology together like it was an art form. He also dabbles into a realm he’d discovered amidst his timeline in another world; he simply calls it the Abyssal. It seems a bit unstable and when he uses it…he goes a bit mad. Regardless, he’s quite a formidable mage.”

And that was about it for Ender.

There came a basal chuckle, one unbecoming of the youthful voice he used, and continued to speak in. "There you go. You know him better than I. Reux has proven he is willing to spread word, and Deceit certainly is fit for the task. Perhaps... hm. Something that drives you, that drives all of us, that we search for. Something I desire deeply. That is no mistruth and can be seen in my action. Let's see... how to work this."

Unlike his father, he could LIE. "Hnh. There we go. The last source was hidden--I will tell you where as to make this appropriate--by the ever reborn god of the sun. The gateway unlocks to certain directions of light, which only occurs on solstices, but can be forged. He hid his heart away there so that he may live on, but the dagger was forged to acquire that power? Would that work, perhaps? Steal the power from the sun, the endless rebirth, forge such a myth as to be so undying. ...Earth-realm stonehenge." Perhaps the formation at the center of his arena made sense now. Some sort of homage, a bonding point he remembered. "It is... half true. The sun does light the formation, but it was the darkness that once stole it from the sky, and it is the shadow that opens the path. Is it more effective then to convince him the dagger is intended to steal the power and cause some sort of transfer? Let's be meticulous about our fib here. What do YOU think would best convince him?" What a tangled web we weave. Regardless he would be sure to lurk come the expected day, watching lest it attempt to backfire.

"Ender..." a long pause. Thought. A fully monotonous tone again, "...Is he trustworthy? I do not enjoy only depending on a contract to keep our secrets."

”That’s perfect.”

Seven offered a nod. It was so clear now. Rudianos had already come up with most of the lie; and Seven had the bait for the trap.

”All he needs to hear is that I’m onto some source of power to rid this world of him for good. We’ve already discussed that he would destroy anything that drives me to any goal. But nothing would make him happier than to take the end result for himself.”

And that was it. Word to be leaked to Leviathan that there was an unending power that meant godliness itself; and Seven was in search of it. At the very whisper of this Leviathan would tear apart the very cosmos to find this power and keep it for himself. Greed; it was such a carnal desire that would be the undoing of Leviathan, no doubt.

”Without question, General. Ender may be a drow; known for their treachery, even amongst their own. Alas, I have known him for the last…”

How long had it been? Four-Five hundred years? It had been quite some time.

”It has been a very long time since we were brought together as brothers; and not once has he committed any act of treason against me. And secrets are a specialty of his. He’s quite…immune to torture.”

There was a succinct nod in understanding of Leviathan. It all worked out. "Afford me a list of his contacts so I might also leave... appropriate hints, as will the others. You do your own work, open your mouth in the wrong places on this matter... and then report to me at sign of success or hint that he is heading in the right direction. If you can give me more detail on where it is he current is staying, that would help."

Drow or reputation for treachery meant little. Racial implications were designed to be broken. "I see. If that's the case, then direct him to the Viper Pit so I might meet him. There, we will talk and I may sign him into contract. The binding method is similar to, yet different from before until the return of Erodious to our flock."

With that he stood from the crouch he had naturally sunken into. "Are there any more details to discuss?"

Seven shook his head.

”He doesn’t have many contacts. He interacts with the Kensa’s. Penance is another he interacts with quite a lot. If she acts like she’s knows something; he’ll get the information somehow. And his current residence…that I don’t know. I haven’t sensed him in this realm for weeks.”

On the matter of Ender, Seven would simply offer a nod. He’d direct him forth as soon as he could get in contact.

”No, General. There are no other matters of business that I can think of. I’d warn you to watch yourself around Leviathan, but I’m sure you can more than handle yourself.”

Seven would return to his original perch upon the wall, pulling his legs up into the awkward balancing act of laying on the ground with his arms crossed behind his head.

Audible, childish snort. "Kensas." Sorry, you can see where that opinion rests. "They still somehow live? Perhaps I should repaint their doorway with someone again." Hopefully there was no friendship there, but... he'd had his run-ins, and results had been expected.

"Mm." Warning to take care. At least Seven had amended the idea. "As much as I feel myself general, that infers dominion. The brothers were not so signed to force servitude. ...You may call me Rudianos. If you choose to continue calling me General, I will accept." If only for clarity. Still, the entire structure was to shake down former convention.

"I'll be seeing you. Update me. I can answer to most calls. If an attempt fails, try later." And with that... zwip. Where'd he go? Right through a brief space puncture and far, far away.