Final Kingdom MUSH - User contributions [en]

Unlikely Asylum

2013-12-13T20:46:12Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/10/26 |Location=Castle Palamecia |Synopsis=After all that has happened, Maira and Avira need to find safe haven. Thus, Maira reaches out to an..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/10/26
|Location=Castle Palamecia
|Synopsis=After all that has happened, Maira and Avira need to find safe haven. Thus, Maira reaches out to an unlikely associate for aid...
|Cast of Characters=Avira, Maira, Emperor Mateus, Leon
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Horses had been sent with them, along with an escort of knights. Neither of them would be used to traveling this way. "May seem kind of crazy to you...but we did say we'd do this, didn't we? I wanted you to talk to him. See what you think," she says to Avira, smiling softly to her. Maira looks about ready to fall off her horse. She's exhausted. She tires very easily as of late, which was to be expected. When the reach the castle, they are let right in, since they had been expected. Maira really, really hopes being here would help her recover. She also hoped Mateus might be able to answers her questions about her magic. If anyone would know, a powerful sorcerer would, right? Maira also hoped to see Leon. She hadn't given up on him, nor would she. She was going to find a way to bring him back. Until then, she just wants to know that he's...alright. As alright as he could be, anyway.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira's /definitely/ not used to traveling this way. For one, she's riding a horse. Normally she rides a giant beetle. Horses feel a bit more disagreeable than that-at least until Avira starts using The Voice on the animal beneath her. Now when Maira said they'd be visiting home, she did not think that visiting The Emperor was part of the deal which immediately made Avira uncomfortable. "You said we'd visit but...not talk to him." Well at least Avira's still armed. The Water Crystal, though, is certainly /not/ with her right now. In fact, it's probably with Angantyr and good luck stealing it from HIM.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus, and Palamecia by proxy, has been noticeably absent from many of the recent events plaguing this world and many others. It is well known that the Emperor has his reasons for everything he says or does, and that he rarely explains what those reasons actually are. In this circumstance, it is easy. Maira asked for an audience, and Mateus was more than willing to give her his time. And an escort into Palamecia, for that matter. When the two young women enter the throne-room, they might feel something waft over them like a magical breeze as they pass through the doors. Nothing /bad/, just a little different--or a bit off. There are no obvious signs of anything different from any other time they've been here, except for the fact that it is abnormally silent. No ambient noise from the windows or doors, no guards at the entryways--just them and the robed figure sitting on his throne. Emperor Mateus rises, a warm smile gracing his features. "Lady Maira and Lady Avira. It is a great pleasure to meet you again." He descends down the stairs from his throne at a refined but somewhat quick clip. "To what do I owe the honor?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Well, there was little use in coming and not seeing him, he'd know anyway. Besides, she really does value Avira's opinion. She hopes she can help her make sense of the puzzle that is Mateus. Maira curtsies when she sees the Emperor, her eyes glancing around them, perturbed by the silence. No parties this time. Nor even any guards. Not that Mateus needed them, but she thought he would keep them for appearances. "Emperor," she greets, trying to find the words to begin. "I...wanted to see if I could...perhaps stay for a little while." May as well get right to the point. Being as senstive to magic as he was, he may well sense that Maira is curiously empty of hers. The spark of it still remains in her, but she is like a battery that has been drained. Something very wrong was done to her. "I need somewhere to rest...and I hoped--well I hoped that you might be able to help me." Maira looks to Avira. "I'm...worried, that maybe it won't come back," she explains. Avira would know what she was talking about. Back to Mateus, Maira frowns gently. "Is something...wrong here? Its...really quiet."

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "Emperor." Avira greets, though she does not bow or curtsey. She'll speak respectively, but he was not /her/ emperor, so the decorum ended there. It's clear to see that the huntress is on edge for to her it feels like she just walked in to the lion's den. What if Leon was lurking around a corner, waiting to put a sword through her stomach? There was nobody else around either and that stirred a sort of primal worry embedded deep within the huntress. -wait, stay for a little while? With this guy? But Avira knows indeed. She knows very intimately what is currenly eating at Maira. "Yes, where is everybody?" Avira says slowly.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' It is abundantly clear that a request for asylum, no matter how temporary, was not quite what the Emperor himself was expecting. An eyebrow rises, his stance straightens before arcing to the side slightly, and his mouth flattens to a slightly downturned line. "I would be glad to." The surprise doesn't cheapen the honesty in his words, and he clearly means it. "I will have a room prepared immediately. I trust you will wish to stay with her, Lady Avira?" He noticeably pauses as both Maira and Avira ask why it's so quiet, and he casts a look around that seems rather... worried. In fact, his gaze doesn't seem to stop checking their surroundings, only occassionally looking directly at Maira and even rarer still meeting Avira's gaze. "I have taken... precautions. One can never be too careful lately, especially given our individual circumstances." A close look around would notice the absolute absence of shadows anywhere--even under their own feet, Mateus included. Is this part of that wafting air at the doorway? He focuses solely on Maira with a clear look of concern and perhaps growing aggrivation. "What has happened to you, Maira? Your light..."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira exhales slowly, looking around once more. A vague explaination, but a worrying one. If Mateus fears something? That is most certainly something to worry about. "Our circumstances? I know what my circumstance is...but what about you? The last I was here you were having a party," she replies. Something is strange here, that she knows, but she doesn't yet pick out about the shadows. At the question, Maira looks down. "I was taken by a Shadow Lord named Rakassa. I was taken to Vector. I was..." she pauses, her hands shaking as she anxiously smooths the fabric of her dress. "I was drained. They...they put me in a tube, hooked me up to all these machines...then they took my magic and they gave it to another," she explains, hands curling into a fists as she grasps the violet silk. "I still feel it, but I can hardly get a spark--I'm so tired. I hoped you might be able to tell me...if it would get better. I hoped being here, it would help," she confesses. It is only then, looking down at the floor again, that she realizes she doesn't have a shadow. Maira blinks several times, perplexed and unnerved. "Why...are there no shadows?" she asks, looking back up to Mateus with wide eyes.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "I will." Avira says awkwardly but immediately to Mateus's question. She's clearly rather worried about staying here-again, lion's den. Mateus's reaction brings a frown to her. "...precautions against what? Surely nobody can threaten your kingdom, with the power you weild." That is strange. It takes her a moment but Avira does notice the lack of shadows in this place. She doesn't comment on this, drawing her arms up to fold them over her stomach. When Mateus asks for an explanation about Maira's weakened light, Avira falls silent, letting her best friend explain it. "I'm of the opinion that it will come back slowly. Like with a lot of rest, it'll grow back eventually." It might take a while. Like Avira's own light. "Her being somewhere safe would help."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles wearily, not quite unkindly, and opens his arms wide as if to indicate the whole room--and quite possibly the entire kingdom. "My dears, just take a moment to think. Maleficent and Garland expect all Shadow Lords to capture Princesses. If it is discovered that not only have two Princesses simply walked into my hall, but that I am willingly /protecting/ them..." He lets his voice trail off, not feeling the need to explain further. He carelessly waves a hand around them. "We are in a barrier, slightly displaced from the true throne room. There are no shadows because I cannot take the chance of /someone/ taking advantage and overhearing our conversation. I have the Dark Knight ensuring that your trip here has not been noticed at all--much less the wrong sort of attention." At Maira's explaination, Mateus' expression darkens more and more into pure fury, his violet eyes glowing in purple unlight. "Is. That. So." Oh, he does /not/ sound happy at all. "So that is why..." He rubs his forehead, emitting a long sigh. "...I see. You are very lucky, Maira. That Shadow Lord could have extracted your heart entirely, and all I have left of my world could have been lost with you." He narrows his eyes briefly in consideration, then emits a very long sigh as his fury fades in very slow increments. At least his eyes have stopped glowing. "Yes, Lady Avira is correct. Plenty of rest and not attempting to force the matter is the best way to recover what you have lost."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira listens with rapt attention. "So they...so there is sort of a structure of power," she replies. Oh, great, more than just Garland and Maleficent are working together. GREAT! FABULOUS! As if that wasn't bad enough! Already it seemed impossible to beat them! Maira moves toward a chair, taking a seat before he knees give out from under her. She looks to Avira though, her thoughts plain; 'Do you see?' she seems to say. Not that she thinks they should absolutely trust him, but it should show at the very least that not all Shadow Lord's have the same agenda. That seems like an awfully important thing to know. The power of his fury sends a shiver down her spine. She doesn't hold any illusions that its her he cares about. That is just fine. For now. "I was foolish. A friend was hurt, I tried to get to her and got lost. For all I know...maybe it was Rakassa who brought up that forest. I don't know what they are really capable of--either way, I will not travel alone again," she responds, her voice iron strong. She means it. Admitting that she is too weak against such odds...well, she has to be done with shame over that. Maybe knowing your weakness can become a strength. At his answer about her magic, she sighs heavily with relief, nodding. "I hoped so. I'll stay then, for a time. Rakassa has something that belongs to me--and the girl they gave my magic too. I want to find her. The process has probably...driven her mad. I need to find her and at least...at least offer her another path besides being a slave to Rakassa--to using /my/ magic to do terrible things." Another deep breathe is taken and let out slowly. "Thank you, Emperor. I know you have your own reasons for protecting me...but thank you none the less." Maira looks back to Avira then, reaching her hand toward her, smiling. She's glad her best friend is with her.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira lifts an eyebrow. "Is that a new initiative of theirs?" She had to wonder about Garland though. She didn't want to think how easily he could retrieve her if he wanted-well, if she was alone at least. She can't be alone these days. "Interesting." She catches that look of Maira and she eyes her back reluctantly. It's not easy for Avira to trust the all powerful EMPEROR. On one hand it was welcomed. Avira and Maira had both gotten in a lot of trouble lately. At the same time, to have this protection turn into a cage... Mateus gets angry and Avira takes a startled step backwards. "..your eyes can be so cruel~" she murmurs to herself as a injoke Maira might get. She did watch the Labyrinth after all. A sigh of relief escapes her as Mateus confirms that Maira's magic would return with time and rest. "Good. So it will come back." Avira reaches out and takes Maira's hand. She remains standing for now as she moves to take up position behind Maira's chair.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus allows his mouth to quirk, just barely overhearing Avira's murmurs. "Just as I can be so cruel~," he croons back, matching Jareth's voice perfectly. Yes, he's seen Labyrinth as well and finds the similarities downright /remarkable/. He nods slowly, seeming to be mulling over this new information and perhaps plotting retaliation of his own. "You do need to take better care of yourself, lass. 'Tis not the first time you have given me a scare. But you have survived, and you have learned--and you seem to have a plan for the future. I shan't lecture you further." He claps his hands together, his arms straight and parallel to the ground, as all semblances of darkness disappear from his expression. "So then! My castle shall be your temporary home, a reprieve from the storms of the worlds beyond. I humbly request you do not leave until you are ready, but--as always--I shan't keep either of you here against your will." He closes his eyes, then grows quite serious. "Should your presence be found out by the wrong sort before the proper time, I only have one request of you." He lowers his hands to his sides. "Run. Flee as far away and as fast as you are possibly able. Do not stay to fight, do not try to help. I can always rebuild my kingdom, but all will be for naught if Maira's heart is truly endangered." He smiles warmly, an attempt to dispel the seriousness of the moment. "I take it we are agreed?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' When Maira hears Avira's words, and her reference, she brings a hand up to try to cover her laugh. Oh goodness! Oh, but she'd needed a giggle. To make it all better (or worse?) Mateus gets the reference as well. He's a worldly sort, after all! As Matthew, he sees the world. Maira can't help but look amused. At least until the things turn serious once more. She nods to Mateus in agreement. "I will not go unless I am with someone who can help keep me safe," she replies, glancing to Avira. Maira thinks they both know now that there are certain sacrifices they simply have to make. Staying in a castle for a while, oh how horrible, right? At the last bit, Maira chews her lip thoughtfully. This is more to ask, though she understands why he says it. After a moment of consideration, she nods. "Agreed. I understand. If that happens, I will get out as quickly as possible." Maira then looks to Avira, to see what she will say. Oh, the others will think they're crazy. Probably.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Uh oh. Avira's face turns bright red and suddenly she has a whole lot of trouble making eye contact with Mateus. Inwardly, she's relieved though. They could leave when they needed to which was extremely important to Avira. She couldn't stay tied to one place and eventually she would have to attend to her other duties on the outside. Figuring out what to do with that crystal. Continuing the gummi ship research. Helping people. Dating Mercade. Important stuff. "I'll be there with you, Maira. I'll keep you safe." Avira's hands move so she can rest them atop of Maira's shoulders. "We understand." Running comes with the territory! "Hopefully it won't come to that." She looks down at Maira. "It's a vacation." she shrugs, "We both need it with all that's happened, frankly."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles softly. Rest easy, Avira, he's not offended at all. "Very well." He folds one hand behind his back and snaps the fingers of his opposite hand. Immediately, there is a feeling of a magical breeze and the slight sound of... small bells ringing? Broken glass tinkling? Their surroundings suddenly sharpen with depth as shadows bloom in their proper places, though still barren of any other people. At least the usual ambient sounds of an occupied castle and nature outside have returned. A sharp glance around seems to satisfy the Emperor, who still seems a little leery and cautious. "I will arrange for a room or two to be prepared immediately." He folds both hands behind his back, seeming to be relaxed in stance even if a worried look remains in his eyes. "If you have need of something, feel free to ask."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The barrier starts to fall and soon the figure of the Dark Knight can be seen moving as the magic comes down to reveal the true room. The image of him is hard to make out, beyond the very dark waves that move around his figure as the darkness mist itself. The tendrils of darkness that follow with each measured perfect step. "Your Majesty," The Dark Knight does not meet Mateus with his red gaze, he does however drop to one knee, with the cap moving slightly around him with this pauldrons active. "There is no sign that they have been followed, but the magic sensors were placed down as requested." The voice was still as cold as ever and still ever as calculative on his speaking. The lack of emotion and the air of sheer calmness. He waits a moment before slowly rising up once more. His red gaze then slowly moves over to look at Maira. He actually seems to narrow his eyes as he tilts his head slightly. As if having trouble seeing her or perhaps, even recognizing her. Then his gaze moves over to Avira slowly. No more words are spoken however as he returns to look straight ahead, yet keeping his gaze low.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira reaches back to take Avira's hand. "I'll protect /you/ too," she replies, very nearly sticking out her tongue plaufully. "A vacation," she agrees with a small laugh. Sure, they could think about it that way. Maira needed to rest, get her power back. Then, she could continue to fight and protect her friends--and the world, apparently. Maira looks back to Mateus, cracking a smile. "Thank you," she says again. When he dismisses the spell he'd cast, she looks around to watch the shadows return, the ambiet noise of life so loud after that uncanny silence. Then, there is Leon. Maira looks toward him, swallowing hard as her heart rises into her throat. Oh, Leon. The Dark Knight again. Its the first time she'd really seen him, since last time. Seemed a long time ago, but it wasn't. Not really. "Leon..." she breathes, remembering the man that had been her friend for that time he was himself. She is still determined to get him back. Maybe some time here would help. Or, he could try to eat her heart again. Its kind of a gamble, honestly.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira didn't turn red due to offense. She's actually kind of flustered. Blushing, in fact. Such was the power of the Goblin King. The reality of the room returning brings a bit of comfort to Avira because she had partially worried that they'd spend their time here in a silent void without shadows. Then again such a strong spell from the Emperor no doubt would cause suspicion. Just what was he hiding then, hmm? "Well..." she thinks. What would Avira want? Her thoughts are interrupted as the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Looking over her shoulder, she sees the Dark Knight approaching. He seemed no different from when he had been converted back into that demonic countenance. No sign of Leon at all. Avira meets those red eyes evenly. She's not afraid. If he tried to eat Maira's heart, he'd clearly have an Avira standing in the way.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus nods to the Dark Knight, relief relaxing his expression and stance. "Excellent news. Ensure that the Knights maintain direct guardianship of our guests for the duration of their stay. I will prefer that the Officers remain on seperate duties for the time being." He does not elaborate further, instead tilting his head slightly as if mentally running through a checklist. "Mmmm. I shouldn't keep either of you any longer, unless there are any other matters at hand?"

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' "Yes, Your majesty. I will make sure it is so." The Dark Knight states. He does not peer further at Maira or Avira. He doesn't even acknowledge the 'Leon' from Maira. "Will that be all, you Majesty?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira looks away from the Dark Knight and back to Avira, squeezing her hand gently. "I am very tired...I think I should start getting that rest we talked about," she says, looking back to Mateus. He really is a puzzle. She has no idea what to make of him. Leon doesn't so much as acknowledge her. She doesn't look to him again. Now isn't the time. She isn't lying when she says she's exhausted. She'll likely be asleep before she even sets her head down. Maira stands, still holding Avira's hand, and waits for someone to lead the way.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "No, no other matters." Avira says, sounding somewhat distant. "Not yet at least. Let's go." A shield again, but what else is new? Avira was ready.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus nods to the Dark Knight. "Aye. You are dismissed, Dark Knight." To Avira and Maira, he hums softly in understanding. "As you wish, mi'ladies." He bows to them, one hand still behind his back with the other folded over his stomach, as a servant appears at the doorway to lead them to their rooms. "May you rest well, then."

Answers

2013-08-15T22:54:22Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/08/12 |Location=Flynn OS - Outlands |Synopsis=Beck leads TRON to the Renegade's hideout located deep in the Outlands outside Argon City, both ..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/08/12
|Location=Flynn OS - Outlands
|Synopsis=Beck leads TRON to the Renegade's hideout located deep in the Outlands outside Argon City, both seeking answers to the questions that plague them.
|Cast of Characters=TRON, Beck
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck had been busy being napped by Mara and Zed at Abel's Garage. Since the Grid came back online and due to the sudden show of force, things have-- not been the same. Beck has been having to adjust and comfort his friends that he has always been ok. Including trying to explain to them his side of the story-- at least the side of the story as a mechanic. Yet, as always, Mara never seem to want to hear it and gave Beck her mind's worth. So when Beck could escape, he did so. It worried him really. Not only was his face on the wanted posters by rumors about some programs trying to follow in his shoes-- which was nothing new, but now one of the people from /outside/ the Grid had their face up there with the Renegade's. If this continued.. No. No. He didn't want to think about that. ****************************************************************************** At the edge of Argon, Beck sat on his light cycle. He was waiting for TRON to show up. He told him he wanted to show him something important. Something-- that may explain everything. Including something that TRON seem to want as well. Answers. Doesn't everyone want answers? Beck fidget with his tool in his hand. Flipping it. Catching it. Twirling it. Then flipping it again. It was away to pass up time and thankful there was no sign of a possible snow storm in the distance.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' A modern Light Cycle weaves through traffic without incident, the semi-canopy blocking any true glimpse at the rider beyond the simple black Program suit. It pulls off to the side, idling to a halt next to Beck's own Light Cycle. <"Greetingz, Program,"> a modulated voice calls over as the semi-canopy retracts and the rider straightens to straddle his Light Cycle in place. He seems to be a normal Program for the system, even with the black opaque full-face helmet... except for the strange Silver Disc between his shoulder-blades. The black rider motions towards Beck's display of tool-flipping with a simple wave of his hand. <"Good dexterity. Can you do that with a Dizc too?">

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck continued to play with his tool. When the Modulate voiced program pulls up along side him and compliments him on his dexterity, Beck kind of continues with a small smile on his face. "I am known as the best disc player in Arg--" He then pauses mid sentence as he looks over at the Program and spots the white disc. Then that smile wipes away and he gives TRON a dead-pan look. Before he looks away almost rolling his eyes and huffing a piece of his bang on his face. "I should have guessed." Though his voice sounds serious, there was a twinge of a smirk there. "You really should do something about that. Its going to get you questioned by the wrong people one day." The young program then sits right on his Light Cycle. "Come on. We got a bit to go and-- its going to be a bit rough. I also suggest keeping your lights off." Then Beck takes off into the Outlands.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' A buzzing chuckle is the only immediate response to Beck's deadpan stare, the black-clad Program folding his arms over the housing protecting the controls for the Light Cycle. <"Nobody haz noticed zo far. Perhapz they believe it iz a fazhion ztatement?"> With how... /human/... many of the Programs can act without realizing it, TRON would not put it past any of them. Small wonder most Users have not actually been caught. His helmed head nods once and he hunkers back down on the Light Cycle as the semi-canopy rezzes over his back. <"Lead the way,"> he responds as he follows in Beck's wake.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck leads the way. It turns into a windy maze or at least it would seem that way if you didn't know where you were going. Then it was soon moving up a side of steep mountain, until coming around a tight corner and then-- Right into the mountain?! Yes. Beck goes right into the mountain and right through a data-mesh that hides the entrance. The Light Cycle pulls in and revs a few times which echoes in the pitch black space. Only Beck's own lines giving away his location. He then steps off and as soon has his feet touch the ground. The floor lights up under him and a pathway lights up leading to an elevator like door, which opens up as Beck walks up to it. The young program stops dead in his tracks. His hand seeming frozen to the wall as he just stares at the steps leading up higher. His body seeming to tense up. His hazel brown eyes suddenly feeling with so much pain, before he closes his eyes and grits his teeth. Pushing away all the memories that still haunt him. The words. The yells. The fights. The good moments. The bad moments. "..The control center is right up these steps.. I'll have to put in the code to get access.. its going to be a mess though up there. We didn't get a chance to really clean it up to well after what Cyrus did here."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON simply follows Beck's lead through the Outlands, maintaining a close but safe distance between the two Light Cycles just in case something goes wrong. He makes careful note of the path to get here, the various features and just what this area even /looks/ like. The Outlands on his home-Grid are much more fatal compared to this one. '/His/ home-Grid'... Right. He doesn't flinch when Beck disappears into the cliff-face without a trace, simply continuing to follow him through--and into a whole new location, so dark that he almost stops dead in his tracks on the spot. The canopy disappears, allowing TRON to straighten up and retract his helm, revealing his face for the first time since... well, since he'd gotten digitized, actually. He remains in the black suit for now, however, still unwilling to fully let his guard down. He derezzes the Light Cycle and tucks the baton into a thigh holster as he follows Beck, who seems to have some command over the facility if the lights are of any indication. But the /look/ on Beck's face... TRON's own brow furrows in concern, a flicker of helplessness in his brown eyes before impassivity takes over once more. Just another reminder layering over multiple reminders. He frowns at the namedrop, again getting that aggrivating feeling that he is missing something. "Cyrus?"

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck taps his fingers on the wall a few times, before he starts to walk up the steps. "Yeah. Cyrus. He is not a good program." Beck starts to explain as he continues to walk up. The steps lighting up under each of his foot steps, including the walls and ceiling around him. "He tried to destroy the Grid. Wipe it to a clean slate. He is-- well-- he is the reason we have those Heartless here really." Beck frowns at that as he raises up his hands to his chest, looking at the under side of his arms as his finger tips brush over an area close to his wrist that has odd lines of damage. "He is also why I am known as an Assassin. He got a hold of my part of the disc and took on the identity of the Renegade. He... killed.. also someone very close to me.. and you, well.." Beck pauses in step looking back at TRON. "The you that was, um, never-mind." He waves his hand then continues his way up the steps. "I am sorry. That is something I shouldn't have spoken about."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON listens closely, but it's like hearing a fairy tale or a ghost story. The lack of emotion or anything truly /relatable/ blocks true empathy. He understands what's being explained, alright, but it's only the very end that seems to get any kind of reaction out of him. His eyes narrow, hesitating mid-step to look back the way they'd come. "I'm getting that a lot," he comments almost under his breath, one hand flexing closed for a moment before he resumes following Beck upwards. Any further questions or comments are kept to himself. Answers will come soon enough, or so he hopes. He wouldn't know what to do with this... this /gap/ otherwise.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck continues his way up the long corridor of steps. One can figure this was a safety measure that if someone just came running up these they probably be in a world of hurt somewhere in this. However once they got to the steps. Beck reached over to a panel on the side and placed his hand on the pad. There was a flicker of light, then a few pulses before there was a chime. Then two pair of doors opened, before revealing two more sets of doors, then those pulled back as well, then another, which those also pulled back. Then ahead of them was a /far/ larger room. It was a bit of a mess. Solid black square floor panels. White walls with blue circuity lines that run along them. White, bright ceiling that illuminated the area below. There was a massive window that stretched out across on side showing the Outlands and out to the distance, one of the cities. Though it was hard to tell from a distance if it was Argon or Tron City; maybe even another city itself. In the center of this massive room was an area that was standing up higher and had a massive control center. Yet that area was perhaps the most torn up. Though it looks like it has been recently patched up. As Beck walked in, he motioned up to that very control area. "That-- that is where you will want to access if you want answers." He says calmly to TRON. "..You-- well-- the you here could access about everything from it. Cyrus did do a number on it though, but we got it back up and working before.. we.. went to Tron City.." Those last words were almost whispered as Beck lowered his head. He then walked away from TRON and kicked a voxel across the floor from some data somewhere in this room that had yet to be repaired.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON carefully picks across the room, trying to avoid stepping on voxels or any sufrace that looks less than pristine. He pauses in front of the big picture window for a few moments, clasping his hands together at the small of his back as he surveys the view. There is a faint sense of longing as he studies the city in the distance, but a quick recheck of the emotion notes a resonance with the Other's data. Not his. Never his. Beck's voice stirs him from his reverie, his gaze canting from the control center to Beck and back again. "I see..." His brow furrows again, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something more, but he thinks better of it and stays silent. He instead walks over to the computer and rests his fingertips on the damaged surface as if preparing to type--but something white tucked almost completely out of sight in the control deck catches his eye. He cants his head, eyes narrowing and glowing faintly as he tries to identify it by sight only but finds classification escaping him. "Beck." He reaches into the gap, fingertips touching a smooth, ring-like object hidden away. He carefully pulls it free, noticing a cord glowing pure white connected to an inner panel and how one side of its surface is bare circuitry-lines and dark sheen. "I need you over here."

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck watched TRON a bit and when TRON called him over. He blinked his eyes a few times and then went jogging up the steps, "What is it, TR--" he stops mid-sentence and then stares at the white disc. His hazel eyes go wide. "No.. I.." He then paused himself. That was right... TRON contacted him and then met him at the location point. Beck never met him here in that conversation. It was done from a distance and.... that means.. " What do you need me to do?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON holds the white half-Disc between his fingers as if afraid to actually hold it, like it was made of fine glass that would shatter if touched wrong. His expression looks quite lost, understanding what he has but not quite its significance--or at least not the full depth of it. He carefully sets it down, then takes his Silver Disc off of his back and places it off to the side. His form shifts without warning nor fanfare, whitish-blue circuitry lines flaring to life and spearing through the black of his suit as it changes to white. He removes his White Disc from his spindle next, holding it firmly while staring at it in visible thought. "That's right... he could split his Disc..." He murmurs almost to himself, his gaze turning distant as if not quite focusing on what's in front of them. Then, like a lightswitch being flipped, his whole expression abruptly hardens and his eyes focus. "Before I do anything, I need to know why this Disc is plugged into the system--and whether it's safe for me to unite it with half of my own Disc."

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck stares at the silver disc. His hazel brown eyes stare at it as his shoulders tense. He watches what TRON does with it. Knowing the truth and-- wondering how much that disc would too know the truth of that day. He looks away about then and stares out toward the window, trying to look anywhere but at TRON right now. "I-- I don't know what would happen." He says softly, looking back at TRON at last. "I don't know really why he would even leave it here. I am pretty sure that no one accessed the server or anything since I've been gone either." Beck then walks over to the terminal and starts to type in commands. Logs show up of access times and log out times. What was accessed and what had been recorded. He pulls up all the files he can, moving them to separate sections as he reaches up and slides his hand across the air to move them. Maybe even try to see if the original left behind a message or... something!

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON frowns. "Perhaps... it is what the Users would call a 'last will and testament'," he comments, disconnecting the half-Disc from the cable connecting it to the computer. The power cable ceases to glow as a result, and TRON sets it aside along with the half-Disc itself. He then runs a finger over the outer edge of his White Disc as if in careful thought, then he twists the outer halves to form two ring-like halves--just like the half lying on the terminal. Setting aside one half of his own Disc, he picks up the mystery half-Disc and holds the two disparate halves in his hands, comparing them. There are few true visual differences, but the mysterious half-Disc almost feels heavier. It could just be purely mental, such as the proverbial 'weight of responsibility'. Safety and such be deleted--He needs to know. To understand. He has been functioning too long without context--without /purpose/. Without giving himself time to second-guess himself or allowing Beck to intervene, TRON snaps the two disparate halves together and reaches back to relock it onto the spindle between his shoulder-blades. As soon as the connection is made, he lowers his arm as a bright white light radiates through his circuitry-lines, culminating in his eyes flashing white as well. They stay white. The Disc almost screams as his systems access the new data, reading and copying it to TRON's own Disc. TRON grabs at his head with both hands, gritting his teeth tightly as his fingers dig into his hair. He falls to one knee, curling forwards on himself as he simply emits a low groan and struggles to stay online. He knows this feeling. It's the same experience he had when Flynn hacked his code back in his home-Grid.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck was still looking through the information on the screens, about the time TRON decides enough waiting. Time to do something. ...Beck hates those moments sometimes; at least in precious moments like this. "TRON!" Beck suddenly halts what he is doing as TRON goes to move his disc to his back, "We don't--" To late. ..always to late. He watches TRON suddenly freeze up for a moment and those eyes going solid white. He isn't sure what to do at first, until TRON goes down on his knee. Beck's own eyes go wide as he then goes down on his own knees and reaches out for TRON's shoulder with his one hand. "TRON...?" He was unsure of what that would do. What if it was a trick from Cyrus they overlooked? He wasn't even sure. "..You ok? Can you hear me?" Maybe not the /smartest/ questions in hindsight, but what else was he suppose to do?

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON hears Beck, alright, but can't immediately answer as the process proves to not be instantaneous. His eyes burn behind his eyelids screwed tightly shut, images moving in extreme fast-forward in his vision despite that. His teeth grind and shoulders hike, his entire body shuddering in unreleased tension, and he can feel his processors straining under the load. The last time, he blue-screened and had to reboot because his data couldn't handle the process. This time, he wishes he /could/. Then, everything snaps together in blinding clarity--the Disc quiets, his system is suddenly without the heavy load, and there is a moment of near-weightlessness. Instantly and in one single motion, he reaches back and wrenches the combined Disc free, throwing the disparate Disc away in what must have been as hard as he could, and ends up falling flat on his aft from the lack of balance. He scrambles backwards away from Beck and the computer both, eyes wild but losing the white glow rapidly as his circuitry lines dim back down to their usual bluish-white. He looks all the world like he has completely lost track of where he is--and perhaps, for that moment, /who/ he is. He rakes his hand into his hair, palm resting on one side of his forehead, and his mouth opens as if about to speak... but no words come out. He just looks downright stunned.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck nearly flings back when TRON suddenly snaps the other disc off and chucks it aside. He sits there with a stunned and confused look on his face. "Tr--tron?" He says softly, before slowly moving to stand up. He looks at the program who held the face of his mentor. That held the face of the program who saved Encom system so long ago. Who nearly risked it all to protect Kevin Flynn here. Beck stares at TRON for a long time before he slowly walks up to him, placing out his hand for him to take. "You-- don't look so well.. maybe we should get you some energy and.." Beck wasn't even sure what to do. It was written in his own eyes, perhaps as lost as TRON himself right now. "..I.. I am sure the others are getting worried about you.. and.. maybe.. this was a bad idea.."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON reaches up with his free hand as if to accept Beck's offered help up, but instead of letting himself be pulled up to his feet, he strengthens his grip to pull Beck down to him. "No." The Security Program's voice is suddenly very certain, his expression settling to match. "No, it was not." He looks up at Beck, an expression of sheer bafflement but a growing sense of... empathy? Pain? It's a very complicated mix of emotions, if nothing else. "I saw everything. Betrayal after betrayal, hardship, revenge, hope..." He shakes his head, mouth half-open as his eyebrows knit. "He... Beck, he was dying. He left you a message in the terminal, left that copy of his Disc behind..." Now he just looks shaken as a new thought dawns on his mind. "Users help me, is that what I will become?"

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' TRON then pulls Beck down and Beck doesn't fight him, instead he joins him easily down on the floor, resting his weight on his knee. He knits his brows together in some confusion, before his gaze drifts away as TRON explains that he was dieing. So.. is that why he was so willing.. Beck sighs softly. "He had the right to be like that though, but he never gave up. He never really, truly gave up. If he did, he wouldn't have found me. He wouldn't have trained me." The young program looks at TRON. System Monitor to System Monitor. "..but.. if that isn't who you want to become, who says you have to become like that, right? What he went through and what your going through are very different things. You two have not even truly experience the same life." Beck then looks down at the ground. "..and be it him or you-- I am happy to be either of your sides." Beck looks up at TRON by this point. "I wouldn't change--- no.. there is something I would change.. or.. I thought I would." he sighs as he goes to stand up. "I am not even sure anymore." Beck then turns to face TRON once more. "But your a good guy, TRON. You always have been, no matter if it was /him/ or you.. and don't change that about yourself, because-- that is who you are. A good guy.. A good program.."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON closes his eyes as he listens to Beck, letting the younger Program stand up without stopping him. He smirks slightly, an almost wistful look on his face. "I am... who he once was, I suppose. Perhaps you're right... who really knows anymore, in a time when Users and Programs can mingle together so easily?" He easily shifts his weight to stand up without using his arms for balance, and walks back over to the terminal. "I... have a lot I need to process." He recombines his White Disc, combines it with his Silver Disc, and locks both back into place on his spindle. There is a faint twitch as the connection is reestablished, but nothing nearly so dramatic as earlier proved to be. "But first..." He taps a few keys on the terminal as if knowing exactly what he's looking for--despite having never been here or being around such a piece of Grid Technology like this. And, sure enough, a window appears with a big 'PLAY' message displaying over an indistinct image behind it. "This is meant for you and you alone, Beck." He turns away from the system, reaching up to rest a hand on Beck's shoulder as he passes. His white suit has already begun pixelating back to black, circuitry lines fading and disappearing as well. "I will be downstairs when you're ready."

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck watches TRON easily now access the terminal. He watches all the movements in some confusion. Then when TRON pulls up the video and says it is for him. Beck tenses a little, though he slightly relaxes with the pat on the shoulders. "Understood." He says softly. Beck stares at the floating image, seeming unsure he really wants to start it up. His hazel brown eyes just-- staring at it. He inhales deeply, before he steps up fully to the terminal. Then his hand carefully, slowly reaches out to start the video feed. When the TRON he knew.. when his face comes up.. Beck's eyes sadden deeply and the first word out of the TRON's lips cause him to fully tense. "Beck.." This was going to be a rough few human minutes...

Civil Conversation

2013-08-08T00:02:42Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/07/24
|Location=Castle Palamecia
|Synopsis=Maira returns to Castle Palamecia alone to get information, expecting the worst. What actually happens goes far better than anticipated.
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus, Maira
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Palamecia has grown slightly. The additional income and supplies have proven to be a boon for the main village, and new homes and buildings have sprung up over the past few months. The people are constantly bustling, hard at work at their tasks and apparently quite content with the state of affairs as they know them. The castle itself has not changed, either visually or otherwise. There are no greater or fewer guards on-post, nor has the general darkness of the place eased from its vaguely unsettling air. Not active maliciousness, just... almost a natural state of being, if one wills. There does not seem to be an open invitation this time, the gates closed and guards barring the way. But then again, perhaps it depends on who is visiting?

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira isn't really sure just what she thinks she is doing. It is most certainly going to make her friends quite angry with her when they find out. She will not keep it from them, but she will not tell them what she is about either. Not until it has been done. The young woman has spent some time here in Palamecia looking for, perhaps, some relatives. Having found out who her father was and where he was from, she thought perhaps she might have grandparents or some such. No luck as of yet. Most of the people were too busy to speak to her. That was not all she was here for however. She's stood a ways off for a while, simply watching the castle, her thoughts whirling, her heart questing for courage. Finally, she comes to a decision and walks up to the gates as calmly as possible, focusing her gaze on the posted guards. Would they know her? Had Mateus left any instructions? Did he think she would ever actually come to see /him/? "I am here to see the Emperor," she informs the guards, trying to hold herself with dignity. If she looks important and confident, maybe they'll let her in.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The guards at the front gate don't visibly react much as Maira approaches them, except for their grips on their lances tightening and she would feel two pairs of eyes focusing on her. Not a hostile look, but certainly piercing--and the Palamecian helm designs don't ease the intimidation factor at all. When she speaks, the two guards visibly turn their helms as if to catch each other's eye without losing sight of Maira herself. "Lady Maira Netherpyre, I presume?" One asks her, but the inflection in his voice indicates that it is more confirmation than a question. The other guard seems to relax vaguely, or at least the grip on his lance eases. "We do not know if the Emperor is able to see you, but we can let you in and pass the word for you that you seek his audience," he offers. The two guards are oddly normal for such a dark place--professional soldiers, yes, but clearly not lost in darkness nor corrupted by it. They would not be out of place guarding any other castle out there, if given the appropriate armor to wear. Just another indication of the inherant duality Palamecia seems to exhibit as a matter of course--from the Emperor all the way down to the common villager.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' The mage inhales sharply as they guess at who she is. It is not that they expect her that surprises her. It is that she has a last name. She had never had a last name, for her mother couldn't bare to speak it when she was alive for whatever reason. Being called Maira Netherpyre was very strange to her ears. /Oh Uist.../ she thinks, her heart clenching in grief for her lost companion. She is moving on, working through the pain, but it still feels like a dagger to her heart when she is reminded of how his is lost to her now. The only balm is knowing that he is someplace better, happy with her mother. Maira actually gives the guards a smile, nodding. They are normal people. Just another part of the mystery that is Mateus. "Thank you," she says to them, then would follow their instructions for entrance.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The guard who had voiced her full name inclines his helm to Maira, a sign of respect. Clearly there are no hard feelings for the poor conclusion of the last meeting. "Of course." The two guards move as one, pushing the doors open and standing aside to allow Maira passage into the courtyard. The castle proper is further in, the doors already opening as word is passed along by quick hand signals from the vanguard back to the inner guards. "The path to the main hall has not changed since your last visit, Lady Maira, but do not hesitate to ask for directions if need be," the other guard offers warmly. The first guard emits a low, deep hum of agreement as he nods. "May your visit be a pleasant one this time, Lady."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira smiles, charmed by the guards. They are, ironically, a bit disarming in their warmth. She doesn't even suppose she can tell them to stop calling her lady. She supposes if she's going to put up with it anywhere, it may as well be here. It was still /weird/ though. "Heh, okay. I will. Yes, I hope it will be more pleasant too..." she says, then waves to them as she moves inside. Not wanting to appear like a raggamuffin, Maira has worn her best dress. It is long and violet, moving with her as she walks. It is a dress meant for dancing, but it was the finest thing she owned. Maira moves into the main hall nervously, her eyes scanning for Mateus. Surely, someone would tell him she was here. Would Leon be here? She was afraid to see him. She wanted to, but also dreaded it.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The outer gates close behind Maira as she makes her way through the courtyard. Officers don't seem to notice her, their red eyes and darkened hearts a stark contrast to the standard rank-and-file, but they are very much so few and far between. The path there is uneventful and without interruption, nobody seeming to mind her presence. A few guards even have their helmets off, showing men talking and laughing with their comrades who do not seem any different than the villagers down below. Two guards flank the doors as Maira approaches, but they step aside and open the doors for her instead of blocking her way as the outer vanguard had. They offer no words, only a bow of the helm as she passes. The throne is, once again, vacated with no signs of Mateus anywhere. It is still a hubub of activity, however, with various persons in states of high dress--Palamecian nobles, perhaps? A few notice Maira's entrance and whisper to their peers, but are quickly silenced. It does seem, at least, that her dress is quite close to their own in terms of styling--even if theirs are in varying degrees of greater ornateness. "Ah, Maira!" Mateus' voice echoes above the murmuring conversationalists holding their own court of opinion in the background. The nobles part like waves before a boat's prow, revealing Mateus in his royal attire striding towards Maira with a boyish grin on his youthful face. "I was told of your arrival. A most unexpected but quite welcome ray of sunshine in our mountain home." His voice is warm, his smile genuine--one could almost forget he is a Shadow Lord. He offers his hand out to Maira as a gentleman would request a lady to dance. "Do not mind the nobles, 'tis the time of socialization preceeding the inevitable dance. If you would prefer to speak to me privately, we could go elsewhere." His violet eyes flick to a set of doors to the side leading to an empty balcony, as if to imply one possibility.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' A party was most certainly not what she was expecting, though she has to appreciate the irony of it all. She'd always wanted to go to a fancy party like this. A ball, with grand dresses and decorations and dancing. The man offering his arm to her however, is not the man she would most like to dance with. She is caught visibly off guard by Mateus' warm reception of her. She studies him for a long time, trying to see though him to judge his intentions and his sincerity. Is he genuinely /glad/ to see her? Is this man really a shadow lord? The presence of the few knights with the red eyes would remind her, but everyone seemed to pay them no real attention. Maira stares at the offered arm as if it were a snake ready to bite her, before finally taking a deep breath and accepting it. "I...I um. I'm...here to talk to you, yes. Wh-why are all those people looking at me like that?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus can be infuriatingly hard to read when he wants to be, but his greatest deception has always been the truth itself. After all, when one is considered a 'villain', does hiding anything really matter when the bold-faced truth would never be believed anyways? So why bother? He has always disliked politics anyways. Mateus raises an eyebrow at the surrounding nobles, some of whom seem to be doing their best not to stare at the duo. "Your visit is quite unexpected, my lady, and much mystery surrounds you besides. Word of your deeds and, indeed," he laughs self-depreciatingly, "your fiery nature when riled have intrigued my court to no end. To finally see you in person is perhaps surprising if they have formed misconceptions beforehand." He sweeps through the gathering with practiced ease, leading Maira without hurrying her as if she were a princess--and technically, she is. "Fresh air would do us both good, I think." He chuckles softly. "'Tis amazing how such a 'backwards' castle such as mine can get so stuffy."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira's cheeks ting with pink as she looks around the room again, her grip quite unconsciously tightening on Mateus' arm. He doesn't feel cold, or strange, or slimy or...well, he feels like a man. That just seems unfair somehow. "So...they know who I am? You told them?" she asks, letting herself be lead toward the balcony. Fresh air. Alright. Fresh air sounded very good. Maira lets go of Mateus' arm, stepping back a few steps as she looks up at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know...what to make of you," she admits quietly. The girl shakes her red-gold curls then, inhaling. "I did come to talk to you...I...wondered if we could talk about Leon. Last time, I was...well, you know. I would like to really talk about it though. I'm not going to let the matter just drop," she says, clearly steeling her resolve.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles amusedly, though not seemingly at Maira's expense. "I did not have to. The soldiers talk and the nobles overhear, and they idily speculate as nobles are want to do. And you have met a noble before. Surely you remember the Palamecian nobleman who led you to the main hall at your last visit?" He allows her to let go of his arm, stepping to the railing and providing a comfortable distance between them. He is quite clearly unarmed, no sense of magic active whatsoever, and whatever darkness he holds is kept so close as to be mostly undetectable. But that deep darkness is there if one looks hard enough--yet it does not make his current disposition an act at all. "My advice is to stop reading into what does not exist," he advises kindly, his tone too gentle to be preaching and too friendly to be anything but honest. "I am Matthew, the wandering entertainer. I am Mateus, Emperor of Palamecia. I am also quite the haughty Shadow Lord. I am all these things, and I hide none of them. I am simply who I am." He leans against the balcony on one elbow, folding his hands over each other in a quite relaxed state. The mention of Leon does not seem to bother him, only nodding in agreement. "Indeed, and such an important topic should not pass without reasonable discussion. Please, speak your mind." He makes a hand motion as if to indicate 'you first' to Maira.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira continues watching him, her expression thoughtful. She remains guarded, but she is opening up somewhat to the possibility that Mateus is a complicated individual. It is easier to fight when your enemy is inhuman. It is easy to dismiss a foe rather than to try to understand them. That Mateus had done terrible things she was sure...but what did he want? What motivated him now? Did even the Shadow Lords have some degree of humanity left? Mateus certainly seemed to have more than Garland...but things are not always as they seem, are they? Still, Maira can only work with what she is given. She takes a chance. "I don't know why you did what you did to him...I thought it was pure...I don't know. Spite. Just because you could. But I don't think that's the case anymore. There is more to it, isn't there? More to what happened to him? I want to find a way to bring him back...for good. I'm going to fight for that, no matter what. So--I come to ask you...if you will help me."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus is perfectly at-ease even under Maira's thoughtful scrutiny. As Maira voices doubt to her initial assumptions about himself concerning Leon, a smile lights up his expression. "This is certainly an intriguing chain of events. But to fight, you need all the facts, do you not?" He stops leaning on the balcony and straightens, resting the small of his back against the frame instead. "Allow me to be frank, Maira." His expression turns serious, adding weight to his words. "When you and your friends came here last time, I had hoped for a drastically different outcome to the encounter--that you would freely choose to remain here, and that Leon would choose to continue fighting out there. So you see, Leon returned to me as I had predicted and thus balance had been restored, but it was a hollow victory that I could not savor." He turns his head to gaze over the mountain range spread out before them, all peaks lower than their current vantage point. It's a nice view. "You are correct, there is more to it than a petty display of power." He inhales. "You see, his entire reason for living was to protect his sister--Maria, I do believe. He believed she died when they failed to escape my forces upon Fynn being sacked, and it shattered him. When he was brought to me, he cursed my name and attempted to goad me into killing him--but I had already received word of his raw potential as a swordman. Furthermore, I saw such a deep darkness in him that threatened to consume his heart from within." He lifts his arms out to the sides, an implied shrug with no shoulder movement. "I was but an acolyte of a Shadow Lord at the time, and I freely admit I did not understand the nuances nor command the intricities yet. What else was I to do? Let him die? Watch him become a Heartless? Nay, I could not--and thus the Dark Knight was born." He holds up a finger. "However, his sister did not die--nor did the two friends who attempted escape with them. The Wild Rose Rebellion saved them from my forces and nutured them back to health, and thus they joined the Rebellion cause. They proved to be quite the thorn in my side until the world fell into Darkness, and I have not seen them since." His expression sours noticeably. "And that was not of my doing either, I assure you."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira turns her eyes from him to look out over the vista of Palamecia as he does, taking it in. This was, she supposed, her home. She was tied to this place in a way she had only begun to understand. So to, to the people. Maira places her pale hands on the railing, listening as Mateus speaks and trying not to judge too quickly. Her curiosity has been piqued, and Maira's curiosity is a very strong force. Now that they are speaking, she wants to understand him. Why he did the things he did. For Leon, she gets an answer. "Yes...I gathered as much from talking to him. If his sister is alive, I have to find her. It is the best chance I have...you have a lot at your disposal. Would you look for her? Though she's an enemy to you?" Then Maira back tracks, blinking. "You hoped that I would stay? You could have asked. I mean...I probably would have said no but...." she trails off, turning to look to him once more. "I think I understand, at least...a little. You want to protect me--because of my heart. You don't just...want to destroy."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus nods in confirmation to Maira's understanding. "Indeed. To protect what is mine is my primary concern and objective, and I am admittedly quite the greedy sort. My people, my land, my power--I care little beyond that, unless something from the outside threatens what I hold dear." He grins at a particularly keen memory. "'Tis why I took such deep offense at Fluorgis, when you took the Dark Knight from me. 'Tis also why, even after you attempted to undo me with the Holy spell, I did not retaliate against you." Upon her request to find Leon's sister, only a thin eyebrow rises noticeably to mark his reaction. "I cannot promise that I will actively seek Maria, but I do make it my business to know whom from my world has returned from the Darkness and what they are doing. As far as I know at this time, there are only three of import who have survived--myself, Borghen, and the Dark Knight." He chuckles softly, not /quite/ unkind but certainly not warm. "If none else, this is turning quite interesting."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira narrows her eyes slightly, her grip on the balcony rail tightening at the memory of Fluorgis. "It was take him, or try to kill him--for he most certainly meant to kill me. I knew with every fiber of my being that he meant to rip out my heart," she replies. Greedy? Yes. But at least he could admit it. At least he...well, he took care of the people, in his way, didn't he? Mateus was proving to be a complicated person. Maira sighs heavily. "There could be more--and they would hide themselves from you I am sure. If I find Maria....will you stop me from trying to bring Leon back? We were friends in the time I knew him--as Leon he would protect me. Wouldn't that still be serving your interests?" she asks, turning to look toward him, her gaze unwavering.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus holds up a finger. "No, my dear lass. If those three youths and their allies ever emerge from the Darkness, they will eventually rise against me--out of revenge, out of misplaced loyalty, out of naive hopes and dreams. It matters not their reason, but they will be anything but quiet." He taps his fingers on the railing in thought. "Guy. Maria. Firion. Those are the names of these youths. I am certain you shall know them if you find them." He has noticed that those from the same world seem to have a strange instinct when one of their own is amongst their midst. Curious, indeed. He cannot help but smile at the determination in such a young girl, such a quiet display of will and /light/ without the need of spells or other flashy displays. "'Tis a quandry, is it not?" He opens his arms out wide, a flamboyant yet surprisingly inviting gesture that has the air of anything but. "You cannot revive Leon without the Dark Knight, yet I consider the Dark Knight mine. And I shan't simply hand him over with a mere 'pretty-please'--even from you, Lady Maira." His smile turns cold and dark, lavender irises flickering a purplish un-light around the edges. It is a mere glimpse at the Darkness deep within--frighteningly momentary, but seems to last far longer. "If you believe you can revive a dead man, convince him to fight and to /live/..." He steeples his fingertips in front of his face, almost touching his nose as his keen eyes squarely meet Maira's unwavering gaze. His voice drops to a tone that is deeply ominous yet... still completely /himself/. "You are welcome to /try/."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' She knows the names, for she had read them in Leon's journal. She /had/ been searching, but as of yet she had had no luck. That she knew of, anyway. Unbeknownst to Maira, she had actually recently met Firion, but he had not given her his name. Maira squares her shoulders, standing a bit taller as she gathers up her defiance around herself, drawing on it for strength. "First of all, he is not /yours/. You cannot own a person. You made him a slave to you--you'll tell me you did it to save him from being a heartless, but you still did it. There has to be another way. I will find it...and what will you do? Fight me? Kill me? Then all that you rule will fall to darkness. You'll rule a land of Heartless," she says. "Not," she adds, "That I would let that happen. I'm not going to throw my life away--I almost died not long ago, severing my connection to Uist..." she shakes her head then, pain surfacing to become evident on her features. "I could have stayed. I could have taken my heart and the light in it and let myself die--that would have ruined some of your plans, wouldn't it? But it would mean dooming more people than I could count, and I couldn't do that. It would have been easy--but it wouldn't have been right," she confesses. Why would she even share these things with him? Would it make any difference? Maira shakes her head then. "I hoped...I hoped maybe there was good left in you," she adds quietly.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The Darkness disappears from Emperor Mateus' whole demeanor as quickly as it'd shown itself, leaving only his true human nature. He looks amused at Maira's display of defiance for a few moments, a smirk settling on his lips with his eyes half-closed in haughtiness, but it is an expression that does not last long. When Maira talks about what happened with Uist, what happened with /her/... understanding lights his expression as a grave expression dispells his royal air. "So that is what happened." He sounds all the world like he is not surprised. "A great tremor shook my lands for a few minutes, affecting solely Palamecia and Fynn without touching the lands surrounding them. I knew instantly that something had happened to you, yet I knew that direct action could have made matters worse for you or myself. So I waited, and my patience was rewarded when the lands stabilized again." His entire stance and expression changes again, fluidly relaxing yet deeply saddening. He folds his arms on the balcony and leans over it, hunching his shoulders as he lifts his head. Perhaps, just for a moment, a glimmer of the man behind the sorcerous Shadow Lord. "Good?" He shakes his head slowly. "Such terms are relative, Lady Maira. My people call me 'good' for my actions on their behalf, yet you see me as 'evil'. Thus, the crux of the matter: how could I be seen as both?" He cants his head towards Maira, a boyish grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Utterly Matthew, the erstwhile entertainer... utterly himself. "Humanity, my dear lass. That intangible factor of one's self that is protected, sacrificed, destroyed, or restored only by one's self. For what good is the pursuit of power, for owning all that one sets their mind to, if one loses /who they are/ and /why/ in the process?" He laughs a bit, more at himself than Maira. "I already have a prime example of one who sacrificed his humanity for power, and I would sooner cast myself into Pandemonium before I allow myself to do the same."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira watches him carefully, her expression thoughtful and open. She does not shut him down. She listens. When he speaks of the earthquake, she bites her lip, taking a steadying breath. "I am sorry. I did not know that--my heart stopped. The shock the parting, I guess...but Perci and Faruja got it going again. I heard there was a quake, but I didn't think it had anything to do with me," she breathes, the gravity of the situation truly sinking in. To have such an effect on a land filled with people...it was terrifying. It was life altering. It is, in a very real way, a heavy burden. Her life is not just her own. Was that was it was to be a princess? To be a ruler? Did Mateus feel the same? Maira's eyes soften as she watches him, leaning over the railing beside him as she listens. She doesn't fear him--not in the immediate sort of 'he's going to chuck me over the balcony' sort of fear at least. "You can be seen as both. You can be both. We are all both...and I don't see you as evil. There is...something like evil /in/ you but the sum of you..." she shrugs then, words failing her for a few moments. "I wonder though, what made you into the person you are. No doubt you have done horrible things and the people who call for justice deserve it...but you're a person, a person with a past, right? You were once a child. Someone loved you." "Who are you talking about? Who gave up his humanity for power?" she asks finally.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus' expression becomes introspective and thoughtful, face still turned towards Maira yet not quite looking /at/ her. "Palamecia has always been a land close to darkness. Legends say that the gateway to Pandemonium once stood within Palamecia's very peaks. The other lands of my world--Fynn, Altair, and countless others--scorned and feared us and our propensity to the dark. And when I was but a wee lad, proof of their correctness seemed irrefutable." A clear crystal orb appears in his hand and he absently starts weaving it around his fingers, a habit without conscious thought. "My father, the king of Palamecia, allowed the darkness to corrupt him. T'was he who made the kingdom of Palamecia an Empire, who changed the kingship to emperor. So great was his corruption that he saw me as competition to his throne, as I too was close to the dark." He grins a bit, a rather fond smile. "My mother, Queen Airu, was a woman of pure heart and bright light. She knew I had strong magical aptitudes, and had me sent to Mysidia for training--but t'was also to protect me from the Emperor." He shrugs almost carelessly. "The years passed, and I rose through the ranks to become a Black Mage, then a wizard. But I never forgot my homeland... and I could sense the darkness growing unchecked, even physically darkening the horizion. I was perhaps no older than you when I finally left Mysidia and returned to Palamecia." His face twists, a whole slew of emotions including anger and revulsion visible along with the audible memory. "The corruption had consumed the Emperor--mind, body, and soul. While his acts were unspeakable against his people and his soldiers, t'was his final act that sealed his fate. He opened a gateway into Pandemonium, the heart of Darkness itself, willing to sacrifice everything he had for even more power." In a tone too careless to be quite fully honest, he adds almost as an afterthought: "So I stopped him--permanently. But what was done could not be fully undone, so I willingly took his place as both Emperor and Shadow Lord. I restrained the darkness, I rescued as many of my people as I could," he nods to Maira as if acknowledging her for the first time, "such as your father."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' No doubt, this is a strange moment. Knowing some of his history, she thinks she can understand more about him. Wether this is good or not is still up for debate. If she needs to fight him, and surely there may come a time for that, it will be harder, knowing that he is more than he appears. Knowing his /reasons/. Maira listens quietly, though she looks surprised when he mentions Mysidia. She'd heard of Mysidia, dreamed of going there to study. She'd met a Sage from there recently, in fact. Was is the same Mysidia? Had to be... When he finishes, Maira straightens, looking toward him, her eyes filled with a kind of understanding--and sympathy. She goes so far as to reach out and place her hand tentatively upon his arm, a gesture of comfort. "I'm sorry....for all that you lost--that your father was...." she trails off, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus does not pull away from Maira, nor does he scorn her sympathy. Instead, he only offers a brief smile while patting her hand before directing his gaze back out over the mountains. "'Tis nothing to apologize over. I accept who and what I am, and I do not regret my choices nor actions." He laughs, a surprisingly honest sound given the nature of the conversation, and spins the crystal orb on a fingertip. "What use is there in wasting time cursing what could have been, when there is so much yet to do?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira nods in agreement, letting her hand fall. "I guess that's true...." she replies. The girl is then quiet for a while, obviously thinking. "If the world could be restored, like Manhattan, would you want that?" she asks then. Might as well get all the questions out of the way.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus tilts his head thoughtfully. "An intriguing thought," he admits. "Though I would not mind the restoration of our world to resume where I left off in conquering it... I had all-but-won already. The Wild Rose Rebellion was certainly a thorn in my side, but proved to be little more than an annoyance. In truth, it was starting to get boring. Stagnant." He offers a nonchalant shrug, dispelling the orb like it was a soap bubble. "Besides, now that there is free travel between worlds, such a large expanse is at risk from outside interference. I still have my people, and I still have my lands. I find it better to leave things be," he offers a knowing, but teasing, grin at Maira, "but I am sure my opinion of such matters will mean little if you truly put your heart to it." He motions past the peaks towards the distant lands of Guadosalam, the Giza Plains, and the ocean itself. "Besides, how could one go back to how things were before in the face of all this? So many worlds, so many different cultures and ideas. So many /possibilities/." He almost sounds like a kid in a toy store not knowing where to start first. Almost.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira shakes her head, cracking a smile. No, his opinion would not stop her from restoring the world. She intended to do so, if she could find everything needed to do so. Seemed a long journey. "I don't know...maybe things would come back, but we could continue to travel between--after all, we're learning more about the way the worlds work more every day," she counters with a shrug. Well, she has her answer, and a great deal to think about. "Well--thank you, for being hospitable. I think I'll...be on my way...?" she says, her voice rising at the end to form a question. She is not entirely sure that he will let her leave.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles and straightens, twirling away from the balcony with light steps with the black coat-tails of his outfit fluttering in his wake. "Of course, Lady Maira. If you wish to leave, you may do so at any time--I have not changed my mind on that. But." He regally bows at the waist, one arm folding behind his back, and offers Maira a hand. "T'would be rude of me to force you out without offering even a small measure of hospitality. You are an important guest, after all." He tilts his head back inside, where music has been playing somewhere in the background for some time now. It seems the noble's ball has begun sometime during their conversation. "At least permit me to give you a better conclusion to your visit than the last time you were here."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira smiles softly with relief. He wasn't going to decide to just lock her in the tower. At least not yet. She'd really try not to give him reason to! She actually laughs as he does a twirl and drops a courtly bow. She simply can't believe how ridiculous this all is. But she'd always wanted to go to a ball, and at least she was somewhat dressed for it. Maira looks to the offered hand. Taking it wouldn't mean she didn't still mean to fight him, or at least oppose him. She meant what she said about Leon. It wasn't going to change her mind. Thus, after a moment of hesitation, she takes the offered hand. "Are you asking me to dance...?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles warmly and honestly as Maira takes his hand. There is a time and place for hostilities, and he knows that this moment will change nothing in the long run. But that time and place is most certainly not now, and the long run will deal with itself in time. He elegantly leads her back towards the main hall, easily returning to the royal air of his station. "Indeed, so I am." The nobles gracefully part before them, giving them enough room to join them if that is what they wish to do, but do not linger. "If you are interested, that is."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira's eyes wander and grow large as he leads her out onto the dance floor. Even in her purple dress, the nicest thing she owns, she feels under-dressed, blushing slightly as every eye turns in their direction, the crowd parting for the Emperor and herself (though she knows very well its him they move for, no illusions there). Maira stands before him and nods. "Alright, I've had tea with the Dark Knight, eaten cake with LEXUS, apparently, may as well dance with you," she says with a cheshire smile, reaching up to place her other hand on his shoulder, prepared for a waltz. Luckily, she knows how to dance thanks to some friends (namely Faruja and Margaux). She is /fairly/ sure she will not make a complete fool of herself.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus rests his free hand around Maira's waist, not pulling her close but keeping a very narrow distance between them. "As you wish, my lady." And with that, he leads Maira fluidly into a waltz as the music switches songs to match.

Civil Conversation

2013-08-08T00:01:58Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/07/24 |Location=Castle Palamecia |Synopsis=Maira returns to Castle Palamecia alone to get information, expecting the worst. What actually happ..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/07/24
|Location=Castle Palamecia
|Synopsis=Maira returns to Castle Palamecia alone to get information, expecting the worst. What actually happens goes far better than anticipated.
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus, Maira
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Palamecia has grown slightly. The additional income and supplies have proven to be a boon for the main village, and new homes and buildings have sprung up over the past few months. The people are constantly bustling, hard at work at their tasks and apparently quite content with the state of affairs as they know them. The castle itself has not changed, either visually or otherwise. There are no greater or fewer guards on-post, nor has the general darkness of the place eased from its vaguely unsettling air. Not active maliciousness, just... almost a natural state of being, if one wills. There does not seem to be an open invitation this time, the gates closed and guards barring the way. But then again, perhaps it depends on who is visiting?

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira isn't really sure just what she thinks she is doing. It is most certainly going to make her friends quite angry with her when they find out. She will not keep it from them, but she will not tell them what she is about either. Not until it has been done. The young woman has spent some time here in Palamecia looking for, perhaps, some relatives. Having found out who her father was and where he was from, she thought perhaps she might have grandparents or some such. No luck as of yet. Most of the people were too busy to speak to her. That was not all she was here for however. She's stood a ways off for a while, simply watching the castle, her thoughts whirling, her heart questing for courage. Finally, she comes to a decision and walks up to the gates as calmly as possible, focusing her gaze on the posted guards. Would they know her? Had Mateus left any instructions? Did he think she would ever actually come to see /him/? "I am here to see the Emperor," she informs the guards, trying to hold herself with dignity. If she looks important and confident, maybe they'll let her in.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The guards at the front gate don't visibly react much as Maira approaches them, except for their grips on their lances tightening and she would feel two pairs of eyes focusing on her. Not a hostile look, but certainly piercing--and the Palamecian helm designs don't ease the intimidation factor at all. When she speaks, the two guards visibly turn their helms as if to catch each other's eye without losing sight of Maira herself. "Lady Maira Netherpyre, I presume?" One asks her, but the inflection in his voice indicates that it is more confirmation than a question. The other guard seems to relax vaguely, or at least the grip on his lance eases. "We do not know if the Emperor is able to see you, but we can let you in and pass the word for you that you seek his audience," he offers. The two guards are oddly normal for such a dark place--professional soldiers, yes, but clearly not lost in darkness nor corrupted by it. They would not be out of place guarding any other castle out there, if given the appropriate armor to wear. Just another indication of the inherant duality Palamecia seems to exhibit as a matter of course--from the Emperor all the way down to the common villager.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' The mage inhales sharply as they guess at who she is. It is not that they expect her that surprises her. It is that she has a last name. She had never had a last name, for her mother couldn't bare to speak it when she was alive for whatever reason. Being called Maira Netherpyre was very strange to her ears. /Oh Uist.../ she thinks, her heart clenching in grief for her lost companion. She is moving on, working through the pain, but it still feels like a dagger to her heart when she is reminded of how his is lost to her now. The only balm is knowing that he is someplace better, happy with her mother. Maira actually gives the guards a smile, nodding. They are normal people. Just another part of the mystery that is Mateus. "Thank you," she says to them, then would follow their instructions for entrance.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The guard who had voiced her full name inclines his helm to Maira, a sign of respect. Clearly there are no hard feelings for the poor conclusion of the last meeting. "Of course." The two guards move as one, pushing the doors open and standing aside to allow Maira passage into the courtyard. The castle proper is further in, the doors already opening as word is passed along by quick hand signals from the vanguard back to the inner guards. "The path to the main hall has not changed since your last visit, Lady Maira, but do not hesitate to ask for directions if need be," the other guard offers warmly. The first guard emits a low, deep hum of agreement as he nods. "May your visit be a pleasant one this time, Lady."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira smiles, charmed by the guards. They are, ironically, a bit disarming in their warmth. She doesn't even suppose she can tell them to stop calling her lady. She supposes if she's going to put up with it anywhere, it may as well be here. It was still /weird/ though. "Heh, okay. I will. Yes, I hope it will be more pleasant too..." she says, then waves to them as she moves inside. Not wanting to appear like a raggamuffin, Maira has worn her best dress. It is long and violet, moving with her as she walks. It is a dress meant for dancing, but it was the finest thing she owned. Maira moves into the main hall nervously, her eyes scanning for Mateus. Surely, someone would tell him she was here. Would Leon be here? She was afraid to see him. She wanted to, but also dreaded it.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The outer gates close behind Maira as she makes her way through the courtyard. Officers don't seem to notice her, their red eyes and darkened hearts a stark contrast to the standard rank-and-file, but they are very much so few and far between. The path there is uneventful and without interruption, nobody seeming to mind her presence. A few guards even have their helmets off, showing men talking and laughing with their comrades who do not seem any different than the villagers down below. Two guards flank the doors as Maira approaches, but they step aside and open the doors for her instead of blocking her way as the outer vanguard had. They offer no words, only a bow of the helm as she passes. The throne is, once again, vacated with no signs of Mateus anywhere. It is still a hubub of activity, however, with various persons in states of high dress--Palamecian nobles, perhaps? A few notice Maira's entrance and whisper to their peers, but are quickly silenced. It does seem, at least, that her dress is quite close to their own in terms of styling--even if theirs are in varying degrees of greater ornateness. "Ah, Maira!" Mateus' voice echoes above the murmuring conversationalists holding their own court of opinion in the background. The nobles part like waves before a boat's prow, revealing Mateus in his royal attire striding towards Maira with a boyish grin on his youthful face. "I was told of your arrival. A most unexpected but quite welcome ray of sunshine in our mountain home." His voice is warm, his smile genuine--one could almost forget he is a Shadow Lord. He offers his hand out to Maira as a gentleman would request a lady to dance. "Do not mind the nobles, 'tis the time of socialization preceeding the inevitable dance. If you would prefer to speak to me privately, we could go elsewhere." His violet eyes flick to a set of doors to the side leading to an empty balcony, as if to imply one possibility.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' A party was most certainly not what she was expecting, though she has to appreciate the irony of it all. She'd always wanted to go to a fancy party like this. A ball, with grand dresses and decorations and dancing. The man offering his arm to her however, is not the man she would most like to dance with. She is caught visibly off guard by Mateus' warm reception of her. She studies him for a long time, trying to see though him to judge his intentions and his sincerity. Is he genuinely /glad/ to see her? Is this man really a shadow lord? The presence of the few knights with the red eyes would remind her, but everyone seemed to pay them no real attention. Maira stares at the offered arm as if it were a snake ready to bite her, before finally taking a deep breath and accepting it. "I...I um. I'm...here to talk to you, yes. Wh-why are all those people looking at me like that?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus can be infuriatingly hard to read when he wants to be, but his greatest deception has always been the truth itself. After all, when one is considered a 'villain', does hiding anything really matter when the bold-faced truth would never be believed anyways? So why bother? He has always disliked politics anyways. Mateus raises an eyebrow at the surrounding nobles, some of whom seem to be doing their best not to stare at the duo. "Your visit is quite unexpected, my lady, and much mystery surrounds you besides. Word of your deeds and, indeed," he laughs self-depreciatingly, "your fiery nature when riled have intrigued my court to no end. To finally see you in person is perhaps surprising if they have formed misconceptions beforehand." He sweeps through the gathering with practiced ease, leading Maira without hurrying her as if she were a princess--and technically, she is. "Fresh air would do us both good, I think." He chuckles softly. "'Tis amazing how such a 'backwards' castle such as mine can get so stuffy."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira's cheeks ting with pink as she looks around the room again, her grip quite unconsciously tightening on Mateus' arm. He doesn't feel cold, or strange, or slimy or...well, he feels like a man. That just seems unfair somehow. "So...they know who I am? You told them?" she asks, letting herself be lead toward the balcony. Fresh air. Alright. Fresh air sounded very good. Maira lets go of Mateus' arm, stepping back a few steps as she looks up at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know...what to make of you," she admits quietly. The girl shakes her red-gold curls then, inhaling. "I did come to talk to you...I...wondered if we could talk about Leon. Last time, I was...well, you know. I would like to really talk about it though. I'm not going to let the matter just drop," she says, clearly steeling her resolve.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles amusedly, though not seemingly at Maira's expense. "I did not have to. The soldiers talk and the nobles overhear, and they idily speculate as nobles are want to do. And you have met a noble before. Surely you remember the Palamecian nobleman who led you to the main hall at your last visit?" He allows her to let go of his arm, stepping to the railing and providing a comfortable distance between them. He is quite clearly unarmed, no sense of magic active whatsoever, and whatever darkness he holds is kept so close as to be mostly undetectable. But that deep darkness is there if one looks hard enough--yet it does not make his current disposition an act at all. "My advice is to stop reading into what does not exist," he advises kindly, his tone too gentle to be preaching and too friendly to be anything but honest. "I am Matthew, the wandering entertainer. I am Mateus, Emperor of Palamecia. I am also quite the haughty Shadow Lord. I am all these things, and I hide none of them. I am simply who I am." He leans against the balcony on one elbow, folding his hands over each other in a quite relaxed state. The mention of Leon does not seem to bother him, only nodding in agreement. "Indeed, and such an important topic should not pass without reasonable discussion. Please, speak your mind." He makes a hand motion as if to indicate 'you first' to Maira.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira continues watching him, her expression thoughtful. She remains guarded, but she is opening up somewhat to the possibility that Mateus is a complicated individual. It is easier to fight when your enemy is inhuman. It is easy to dismiss a foe rather than to try to understand them. That Mateus had done terrible things she was sure...but what did he want? What motivated him now? Did even the Shadow Lords have some degree of humanity left? Mateus certainly seemed to have more than Garland...but things are not always as they seem, are they? Still, Maira can only work with what she is given. She takes a chance. "I don't know why you did what you did to him...I thought it was pure...I don't know. Spite. Just because you could. But I don't think that's the case anymore. There is more to it, isn't there? More to what happened to him? I want to find a way to bring him back...for good. I'm going to fight for that, no matter what. So--I come to ask you...if you will help me."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus is perfectly at-ease even under Maira's thoughtful scrutiny. As Maira voices doubt to her initial assumptions about himself concerning Leon, a smile lights up his expression. "This is certainly an intriguing chain of events. But to fight, you need all the facts, do you not?" He stops leaning on the balcony and straightens, resting the small of his back against the frame instead. "Allow me to be frank, Maira." His expression turns serious, adding weight to his words. "When you and your friends came here last time, I had hoped for a drastically different outcome to the encounter--that you would freely choose to remain here, and that Leon would choose to continue fighting out there. So you see, Leon returned to me as I had predicted and thus balance had been restored, but it was a hollow victory that I could not savor." He turns his head to gaze over the mountain range spread out before them, all peaks lower than their current vantage point. It's a nice view. "You are correct, there is more to it than a petty display of power." He inhales. "You see, his entire reason for living was to protect his sister--Maria, I do believe. He believed she died when they failed to escape my forces upon Fynn being sacked, and it shattered him. When he was brought to me, he cursed my name and attempted to goad me into killing him--but I had already received word of his raw potential as a swordman. Furthermore, I saw such a deep darkness in him that threatened to consume his heart from within." He lifts his arms out to the sides, an implied shrug with no shoulder movement. "I was but an acolyte of a Shadow Lord at the time, and I freely admit I did not understand the nuances nor command the intricities yet. What else was I to do? Let him die? Watch him become a Heartless? Nay, I could not--and thus the Dark Knight was born." He holds up a finger. "However, his sister did not die--nor did the two friends who attempted escape with them. The Wild Rose Rebellion saved them from my forces and nutured them back to health, and thus they joined the Rebellion cause. They proved to be quite the thorn in my side until the world fell into Darkness, and I have not seen them since." His expression sours noticeably. "And that was not of my doing either, I assure you."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira turns her eyes from him to look out over the vista of Palamecia as he does, taking it in. This was, she supposed, her home. She was tied to this place in a way she had only begun to understand. So to, to the people. Maira places her pale hands on the railing, listening as Mateus speaks and trying not to judge too quickly. Her curiosity has been piqued, and Maira's curiosity is a very strong force. Now that they are speaking, she wants to understand him. Why he did the things he did. For Leon, she gets an answer. "Yes...I gathered as much from talking to him. If his sister is alive, I have to find her. It is the best chance I have...you have a lot at your disposal. Would you look for her? Though she's an enemy to you?" Then Maira back tracks, blinking. "You hoped that I would stay? You could have asked. I mean...I probably would have said no but...." she trails off, turning to look to him once more. "I think I understand, at least...a little. You want to protect me--because of my heart. You don't just...want to destroy."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus nods in confirmation to Maira's understanding. "Indeed. To protect what is mine is my primary concern and objective, and I am admittedly quite the greedy sort. My people, my land, my power--I care little beyond that, unless something from the outside threatens what I hold dear." He grins at a particularly keen memory. "'Tis why I took such deep offense at Fluorgis, when you took the Dark Knight from me. 'Tis also why, even after you attempted to undo me with the Holy spell, I did not retaliate against you." Upon her request to find Leon's sister, only a thin eyebrow rises noticeably to mark his reaction. "I cannot promise that I will actively seek Maria, but I do make it my business to know whom from my world has returned from the Darkness and what they are doing. As far as I know at this time, there are only three of import who have survived--myself, Borghen, and the Dark Knight." He chuckles softly, not /quite/ unkind but certainly not warm. "If none else, this is turning quite interesting."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira narrows her eyes slightly, her grip on the balcony rail tightening at the memory of Fluorgis. "It was take him, or try to kill him--for he most certainly meant to kill me. I knew with every fiber of my being that he meant to rip out my heart," she replies. Greedy? Yes. But at least he could admit it. At least he...well, he took care of the people, in his way, didn't he? Mateus was proving to be a complicated person. Maira sighs heavily. "There could be more--and they would hide themselves from you I am sure. If I find Maria....will you stop me from trying to bring Leon back? We were friends in the time I knew him--as Leon he would protect me. Wouldn't that still be serving your interests?" she asks, turning to look toward him, her gaze unwavering.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus holds up a finger. "No, my dear lass. If those three youths and their allies ever emerge from the Darkness, they will eventually rise against me--out of revenge, out of misplaced loyalty, out of naive hopes and dreams. It matters not their reason, but they will be anything but quiet." He taps his fingers on the railing in thought. "Guy. Maria. Firion. Those are the names of these youths. I am certain you shall know them if you find them." He has noticed that those from the same world seem to have a strange instinct when one of their own is amongst their midst. Curious, indeed. He cannot help but smile at the determination in such a young girl, such a quiet display of will and /light/ without the need of spells or other flashy displays. "'Tis a quandry, is it not?" He opens his arms out wide, a flamboyant yet surprisingly inviting gesture that has the air of anything but. "You cannot revive Leon without the Dark Knight, yet I consider the Dark Knight mine. And I shan't simply hand him over with a mere 'pretty-please'--even from you, Lady Maira." His smile turns cold and dark, lavender irises flickering a purplish un-light around the edges. It is a mere glimpse at the Darkness deep within--frighteningly momentary, but seems to last far longer. "If you believe you can revive a dead man, convince him to fight and to /live/..." He steeples his fingertips in front of his face, almost touching his nose as his keen eyes squarely meet Maira's unwavering gaze. His voice drops to a tone that is deeply ominous yet... still completely /himself/. "You are welcome to /try/."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' She knows the names, for she had read them in Leon's journal. She /had/ been searching, but as of yet she had had no luck. That she knew of, anyway. Unbeknownst to Maira, she had actually recently met Firion, but he had not given her his name. Maira squares her shoulders, standing a bit taller as she gathers up her defiance around herself, drawing on it for strength. "First of all, he is not /yours/. You cannot own a person. You made him a slave to you--you'll tell me you did it to save him from being a heartless, but you still did it. There has to be another way. I will find it...and what will you do? Fight me? Kill me? Then all that you rule will fall to darkness. You'll rule a land of Heartless," she says. "Not," she adds, "That I would let that happen. I'm not going to throw my life away--I almost died not long ago, severing my connection to Uist..." she shakes her head then, pain surfacing to become evident on her features. "I could have stayed. I could have taken my heart and the light in it and let myself die--that would have ruined some of your plans, wouldn't it? But it would mean dooming more people than I could count, and I couldn't do that. It would have been easy--but it wouldn't have been right," she confesses. Why would she even share these things with him? Would it make any difference? Maira shakes her head then. "I hoped...I hoped maybe there was good left in you," she adds quietly.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The Darkness disappears from Emperor Mateus' whole demeanor as quickly as it'd shown itself, leaving only his true human nature. He looks amused at Maira's display of defiance for a few moments, a smirk settling on his lips with his eyes half-closed in haughtiness, but it is an expression that does not last long. When Maira talks about what happened with Uist, what happened with /her/... understanding lights his expression as a grave expression dispells his royal air. "So that is what happened." He sounds all the world like he is not surprised. "A great tremor shook my lands for a few minutes, affecting solely Palamecia and Fynn without touching the lands surrounding them. I knew instantly that something had happened to you, yet I knew that direct action could have made matters worse for you or myself. So I waited, and my patience was rewarded when the lands stabilized again." His entire stance and expression changes again, fluidly relaxing yet deeply saddening. He folds his arms on the balcony and leans over it, hunching his shoulders as he lifts his head. Perhaps, just for a moment, a glimmer of the man behind the sorcerous Shadow Lord. "Good?" He shakes his head slowly. "Such terms are relative, Lady Maira. My people call me 'good' for my actions on their behalf, yet you see me as 'evil'. Thus, the crux of the matter: how could I be seen as both?" He cants his head towards Maira, a boyish grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Utterly Matthew, the erstwhile entertainer... utterly himself. "Humanity, my dear lass. That intangible factor of one's self that is protected, sacrificed, destroyed, or restored only by one's self. For what good is the pursuit of power, for owning all that one sets their mind to, if one loses /who they are/ and /why/ in the process?" He laughs a bit, more at himself than Maira. "I already have a prime example of one who sacrificed his humanity for power, and I would sooner cast myself into Pandemonium before I allow myself to do the same."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira watches him carefully, her expression thoughtful and open. She does not shut him down. She listens. When he speaks of the earthquake, she bites her lip, taking a steadying breath. "I am sorry. I did not know that--my heart stopped. The shock the parting, I guess...but Perci and Faruja got it going again. I heard there was a quake, but I didn't think it had anything to do with me," she breathes, the gravity of the situation truly sinking in. To have such an effect on a land filled with people...it was terrifying. It was life altering. It is, in a very real way, a heavy burden. Her life is not just her own. Was that was it was to be a princess? To be a ruler? Did Mateus feel the same? Maira's eyes soften as she watches him, leaning over the railing beside him as she listens. She doesn't fear him--not in the immediate sort of 'he's going to chuck me over the balcony' sort of fear at least. "You can be seen as both. You can be both. We are all both...and I don't see you as evil. There is...something like evil /in/ you but the sum of you..." she shrugs then, words failing her for a few moments. "I wonder though, what made you into the person you are. No doubt you have done horrible things and the people who call for justice deserve it...but you're a person, a person with a past, right? You were once a child. Someone loved you." "Who are you talking about? Who gave up his humanity for power?" she asks finally.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus' expression becomes introspective and thoughtful, face still turned towards Maira yet not quite looking /at/ her. "Palamecia has always been a land close to darkness. Legends say that the gateway to Pandemonium once stood within Palamecia's very peaks. The other lands of my world--Fynn, Altair, and countless others--scorned and feared us and our propensity to the dark. And when I was but a wee lad, proof of their correctness seemed irrefutable." A clear crystal orb appears in his hand and he absently starts weaving it around his fingers, a habit without conscious thought. "My father, the king of Palamecia, allowed the darkness to corrupt him. T'was he who made the kingdom of Palamecia an Empire, who changed the kingship to emperor. So great was his corruption that he saw me as competition to his throne, as I too was close to the dark." He grins a bit, a rather fond smile. "My mother, Queen Airu, was a woman of pure heart and bright light. She knew I had strong magical aptitudes, and had me sent to Mysidia for training--but t'was also to protect me from the Emperor." He shrugs almost carelessly. "The years passed, and I rose through the ranks to become a Black Mage, then a wizard. But I never forgot my homeland... and I could sense the darkness growing unchecked, even physically darkening the horizion. I was perhaps no older than you when I finally left Mysidia and returned to Palamecia." His face twists, a whole slew of emotions including anger and revulsion visible along with the audible memory. "The corruption had consumed the Emperor--mind, body, and soul. While his acts were unspeakable against his people and his soldiers, t'was his final act that sealed his fate. He opened a gateway into Pandemonium, the heart of Darkness itself, willing to sacrifice everything he had for even more power." In a tone too careless to be quite fully honest, he adds almost as an afterthought: "So I stopped him--permanently. But what was done could not be fully undone, so I willingly took his place as both Emperor and Shadow Lord. I restrained the darkness, I rescued as many of my people as I could," he nods to Maira as if acknowledging her for the first time, "such as your father."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' No doubt, this is a strange moment. Knowing some of his history, she thinks she can understand more about him. Wether this is good or not is still up for debate. If she needs to fight him, and surely there may come a time for that, it will be harder, knowing that he is more than he appears. Knowing his /reasons/. Maira listens quietly, though she looks surprised when he mentions Mysidia. She'd heard of Mysidia, dreamed of going there to study. She'd met a Sage from there recently, in fact. Was is the same Mysidia? Had to be... When he finishes, Maira straightens, looking toward him, her eyes filled with a kind of understanding--and sympathy. She goes so far as to reach out and place her hand tentatively upon his arm, a gesture of comfort. "I'm sorry....for all that you lost--that your father was...." she trails off, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus does not pull away from Maira, nor does he scorn her sympathy. Instead, he only offers a brief smile while patting her hand before directing his gaze back out over the mountains. "'Tis nothing to apologize over. I accept who and what I am, and I do not regret my choices nor actions." He laughs, a surprisingly honest sound given the nature of the conversation, and spins the crystal orb on a fingertip. "What use is there in wasting time cursing what could have been, when there is so much yet to do?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira nods in agreement, letting her hand fall. "I guess that's true...." she replies. The girl is then quiet for a while, obviously thinking. "If the world could be restored, like Manhattan, would you want that?" she asks then. Might as well get all the questions out of the way.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus tilts his head thoughtfully. "An intriguing thought," he admits. "Though I would not mind the restoration of our world to resume where I left off in conquering it... I had all-but-won already. The Wild Rose Rebellion was certainly a thorn in my side, but proved to be little more than an annoyance. In truth, it was starting to get boring. Stagnant." He offers a nonchalant shrug, dispelling the orb like it was a soap bubble. "Besides, now that there is free travel between worlds, such a large expanse is at risk from outside interference. I still have my people, and I still have my lands. I find it better to leave things be," he offers a knowing, but teasing, grin at Maira, "but I am sure my opinion of such matters will mean little if you truly put your heart to it." He motions past the peaks towards the distant lands of Guadosalam, the Giza Plains, and the ocean itself. "Besides, how could one go back to how things were before in the face of all this? So many worlds, so many different cultures and ideas. So many /possibilities/." He almost sounds like a kid in a toy store not knowing where to start first. Almost.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira shakes her head, cracking a smile. No, his opinion would not stop her from restoring the world. She intended to do so, if she could find everything needed to do so. Seemed a long journey. "I don't know...maybe things would come back, but we could continue to travel between--after all, we're learning more about the way the worlds work more every day," she counters with a shrug. Well, she has her answer, and a great deal to think about. "Well--thank you, for being hospitable. I think I'll...be on my way...?" she says, her voice rising at the end to form a question. She is not entirely sure that he will let her leave.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles and straightens, twirling away from the balcony with light steps with the black coat-tails of his outfit fluttering in his wake. "Of course, Lady Maira. If you wish to leave, you may do so at any time--I have not changed my mind on that. But." He regally bows at the waist, one arm folding behind his back, and offers Maira a hand. "T'would be rude of me to force you out without offering even a small measure of hospitality. You are an important guest, after all." He tilts his head back inside, where music has been playing somewhere in the background for some time now. It seems the noble's ball has begun sometime during their conversation. "At least permit me to give you a better conclusion to your visit than the last time you were here."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira smiles softly with relief. He wasn't going to decide to just lock her in the tower. At least not yet. She'd really try not to give him reason to! She actually laughs as he does a twirl and drops a courtly bow. She simply can't believe how ridiculous this all is. But she'd always wanted to go to a ball, and at least she was somewhat dressed for it. Maira looks to the offered hand. Taking it wouldn't mean she didn't still mean to fight him, or at least oppose him. She meant what she said about Leon. It wasn't going to change her mind. Thus, after a moment of hesitation, she takes the offered hand. "Are you asking me to dance...?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles warmly and honestly as Maira takes his hand. There is a time and place for hostilities, and he knows that this moment will change nothing in the long run. But that time and place is most certainly not now, and the long run will deal with itself in time. He elegantly leads her back towards the main hall, easily returning to the royal air of his station. "Indeed, so I am." The nobles gracefully part before them, giving them enough room to join them if that is what they wish to do, but do not linger. "If you are interested, that is."

:'''[[Princess Maira]] has posed:''' Maira's eyes wander and grow large as he leads her out onto the dance floor. Even in her purple dress, the nicest thing she owns, she feels under-dressed, blushing slightly as every eye turns in their direction, the crowd parting for the Emperor and herself (though she knows very well its him they move for, no illusions there). Maira stands before him and nods. "Alright, I've had tea with the Dark Knight, eaten cake with LEXUS, apparently, may as well dance with you," she says with a cheshire smile, reaching up to place her other hand on his shoulder, prepared for a waltz. Luckily, she knows how to dance thanks to some friends (namely Faruja and Margaux). She is /fairly/ sure she will not make a complete fool of herself.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus rests his free hand around Maira's waist, not pulling her close but keeping a very narrow distance between them. "As you wish, my lady." And with that, he leads Maira fluidly into a waltz as the music switches songs to match.

Overclocked

2013-07-08T21:25:42Z

Gridkeeper: Minor info oops

{{Cutscene Header
|Date of Scene=2013/07/08
|Location=Manhattan - The Arcade
|Synopsis=Takes place after [[...Arcade Is]] but before [[Plastic Is Friend]]

A moment of private introspection forces TRON to face reality, no matter how little it makes sense.
|Thanks=Big thanks to Pumpkinhead!
|Cast of Characters=TRON
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
}}
TRON wanders along the main arcade floor, surveying each offline game-case as he passes without really seeing them. He retrieves the glasses he had carelessly thrown off to the side at the start of the LEXUS-caused chaos, turning them in his hands distractedly. He is waiting for Manhattan to restore power to the building, but his mind is anywhere else but here. In fact, it is grinding on information he has refused to face before now.

The ever-present 'Flynn'--'Creator4983'--had hacked his code and given him data... memories... not his own, but he had not understood what he had until he entered Userspace. Meeting CHIEF and LEXUS had opened his eyes to the possibility of other Grids, which had concerned him... but he tried to ignore the personal significance. Deelel, a Program he had believed was from his Grid, has been revealed to have been pulled in by the MCP from another Grid entirely.

But it is Beck's arrival to Userspace that has shattered everything he had been keeping together, made him face the irrevocable fact that somehow, somewhere, there is another TRON. A more experienced TRON. A TRON that experienced the events he would have never known but for User intervention.

So what does that make him? What is the truth?

It is too much.

He looks back over to the inoperable TRON arcade console, the structure blocking the entrance to the not-so-secret basement, and sees the ENCOM symbol printed on the side. What is the significance of this ENCOM? And /why/ do old letters and bills hidden in storage spaces in the upper level claim that the arcade is supposed to be located in some place called 'Los Angeles'?

Flynn, this arcade, ENCOM... nothing fits, and he can't work it out. He doesn't understand, even with so much information at his disposal. But he's too scared to look deeper, deathly afraid of what he could find next.

It is just far too much.

The sound of the power main being restored brings the arcade back to vibrant life along with the lights, his attention diverting from his personal mental spiral. The arcade games flare back to life, unaffected by the turmoil caused by LEXUS and his hired goons, and he latches onto the welcome discord of disparate game sounds and lights.

He can't run this place alone--there is too much going on for both himself and the other Programs. He doesn't even know how... but he might be able to contact someone who does, if Kevin Flynn’s old contact information has not become completely obsolete.

He pulls out his Ma Belle and his eyes flicker whitish-blue as he recalls a telephone number from memory. He dials quickly, pausing in front of the Fix-It Felix Jr. machine as he shifts the device to his ear. "Hello, is this Mister Larry Litwak?" He smiles in relief at the muffled response. "My name is Alan. I am looking to reopen Flynn's Arcade in Manhattan, but I could use an experienced manager to run the place on a daily basis. Would you be interested?"

Overclocked

2013-07-08T19:56:37Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Cutscene Header |Date of Scene=2013/07/08 |Location=Manhattan - The Arcade |Synopsis=Takes place after ...Arcade Is but before Plastic Is Friend A moment of priva..."

{{Cutscene Header
|Date of Scene=2013/07/08
|Location=Manhattan - The Arcade
|Synopsis=Takes place after [[...Arcade Is]] but before [[Plastic Is Friend]]

A moment of private introspection forces TRON to face reality, no matter how little it makes sense.
|Thanks=Big thanks to Pumpkinhead!
|Cast of Characters=TRON
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
}}
TRON wanders along the main arcade floor, surveying each offline game-case as he passes without really seeing them. He retrieves the glasses he had carelessly thrown off to the side at the start of the LEXUS-caused chaos, turning them in his hands distractedly. He is waiting for Manhattan to restore power to the building, but his mind is anywhere else but here. In fact, it is grinding on information he has refused to face before now.

The ever-present 'Flynn'--'Creator4983'--had hacked his code and given him data... memories... not his own, but he had not understood what he had until he entered Userspace. Meeting CHIEF and LEXUS had opened his eyes to the possibility of other Grids, which had concerned him... but he tried to ignore the personal significance. Deelel, a Program he had believed was from his Grid, has been revealed to have been pulled in by the MCP from another Grid entirely.

But it is Beck's arrival to Userspace that has shattered everything he had been keeping together, made him face the irrevocable fact that somehow, somewhere, there is another TRON. A more experienced TRON. A TRON that experienced the events he would have never known but for User intervention.

So what does that make him? What is the truth?

It is too much.

He looks back over to the inoperable TRON arcade console, the structure blocking the entrance to the not-so-secret basement, and sees the ENCOM symbol printed on the side. What is the significance of this ENCOM? And /why/ do old letters and bills hidden in storage spaces in the upper level claim that the arcade is supposed to be located in some place called 'Los Angeles'?

Flynn, this arcade, ENCOM... nothing fits, and he can't work it out. He doesn't understand, even with so much information at his disposal. But he's too scared to look deeper, deathly afraid of what he could find next.

It is just far too much.

The sound of the power main being restored brings the arcade back to vibrant life along with the lights, his attention diverting from his personal mental spiral. The arcade games flare back to life, unaffected by the turmoil caused by LEXUS and his hired goons, and he latches onto the welcome discord of disparate game sounds and lights.

He can't run this place alone--there is too much going on for both himself and the other Programs. He doesn't even know how... but he might be able to contact someone who does, if Kevin Flynn’s old contact information has not become completely obsolete.

He pulls out his Ma Belle and his eyes flicker whitish-blue as he recalls a telephone number from memory. He dials quickly, pausing in front of the Wreck-It Ralph machine as he shifts the device to his ear. "Hello, is this Mister Larry Litwak?" He smiles in relief at the muffled response. "My name is Alan. I am looking to reopen Flynn's Arcade in Manhattan, but I could use an experienced manager to run the place on a daily basis. Would you be interested?"

Too Close to Home

2013-06-22T03:19:16Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/26
|Location=Imperial Airship Alexander
|Synopsis=Some things just strike too close to home. Also. Never bet against Judge Magister Zargabaath. Ever.
|Cast of Characters=Riku, Zargabaath
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku just wasn't getting anything accomplished this morning. It was with a sense of profound frustration that he ate the remains of his lunch that he'd tucked away while walking back to the training room. He barely acknowledged and or thought about what he was eating. The day had even started out with no memory of nightmare or the attendant weariness that keeps him in bed staring at the ceiling. Riku darkly suspected this itself was the trick and he'd wake up at some point and have to do this entire morning over. He was not exactly a stranger to strange dreams and recursive ones were rare but not unknown. He fretted and chewed over the problem as he entered the training room and looked around. Simple combinations. /Simple/ combinations and he lost his balance. Embarrassing was a charitable word. A very charitable and kind word. Riku just shoved it all aside. He was /going/ to complete an entire pattern properly if he had to sit here and do so the rest of the day. And then do it again when he woke up. Being sloppy in practically the only thing he had all to himself /despite/ not being nearly as good at it as he had always thought he was was not something he could tolerate. Not today.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Riku is not the only one training today. Far in the very back of the room is the Judge of Reason himself, sparring with what seems to be at least six of his men, though who knows how long they have been there. Zargabaath himself is unarmored, shirtless with only cloth pants and simple shoes, in sharp contrast with the varying states of armor that his soldiers wear. The men even seem to have their weapons in hand, while Zargabaath is using practice blades. He is quite uninjured, but scuffs and very shallow dents in the armor of his men show that they would not nearly be so lucky had he been armed the same. It's quite interesting to watch this dance of offense and defense, of the flow of battle no matter how harmless it seems. Judge Magister and soldier alike bob and weave around each other, everyone seeming to know where each other is and/or where they are going. From the cautious yet aggressive moves the soldiers make, they have been at this long enough that they can guess Zargabaath's next move. It's like speed chess. With swords.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku squashes the resentment and the jealousy that flare up as he is watching this go on. He crushes them so ruthlessly that for a moment he's left with a stinging numbness that leaves his head ringing. The teenager shakes it off, shrugging it off as the frustration of the morning trying to latch onto anything available. He does /sorely/ want to punch something, but as hitting himself would be really counter-productive... he only approaches with practice sword over his shoulder. He watches quietly the dance between offense and defense and the impression of chess leaves him surprisingly with a memory of playing it. Boy that seemed.. very far away now. "Well.. this seems about the right odds." he teases with a faint smile. "I'd hate to be the one who counts the bets /here/."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Zargabaath grunts as he spins between three swords seeking to slip between his ribs. "The crew--" He ducks under another blade seeking his neck, "--did that once." He partially somersaults, planting one hand on the ground as two blades swipe at his ankles and back. "I do believe--" He vaults back to his feet with an upwards swing of a sword held in reverse, knocking back one assailant into another, earning a momentary breather, "--the whole crew lost their whole months earnings because of that." The circle spreads out, four becoming six as the two knocked away rejoin the fight. They prowl around like wolves around a deer, seeking a hole in Zargabaath's guard, and the Judge of Reason simply breathes deeply in-and-out as he reads the situation. "Hm." He shakes his head, sweat all but plastering his hair to his skull and keeping it from moving much. "No, no. Not quite..." He motions for Riku to join them. "Come on." He kicks up a rod semi-hidden under the dust at his feet and connects the two practice swords to the ends, evoking the look of a double-bladed spear. He sinks down to a ready stance, the makeshift spear resting over his shoulders behind the back of his neck canted downwards towards the front. The soldiers shift around the circle to accommodate another person as well as to react to the change in weaponry.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku snorts. Double bladed weapons. What is it with Judge Magister and double bladed weapons. He winces in sympathy to the lost earnings and suddenly twigs onto the implied test here (and this gives him pause because he usually only figures these things out /after/ the fact) and blinks to readjust his perception of the training area and the fight. He actually looks away from the Judge Magister for a moment to look at how the crew was moving. "Alright." he walks into the circle and faces Zargabaath. "Well. Probably won't do /that/ again, I'm guessing." his eyes on the crew as they begin again to circle. This isn't a solo fight. This is a teamwork fight, and he doesn't know how that team fights yet, so he stays in the background and doesn't immediately initiate. Indeed letting some of the others advance. Watching how they coordinate and watching for an opportunity. "Although I might be persuaded."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Double bladed weapons. The official sponsorship of--wait, no, wrong program. Zargabaath chuckles. Its not that he is testing Riku, per-se, but he didn't want to keep the boy on the outside looking in. Besides, his men could use the boon instead of risking them giving up. He is glad to see Riku accept all the same, however. "We shall see." And those are the only words he gets out before the next wave of attacks begin. Two lunge first, one high and one low, and the Judge Magister plants the spear into the ground to block both. Another charges, aiming for his back, only for all three to get their weapons knocked aside with a flourish of his spear. He ducks, weaving as another initiates a combo of stabs and slices, giving the first three time to recover and rejoin. The last two hang back, jumping in for a quick strike only to immediately pull back. Once again the tactics have changed, and all without a word spoken. Can Riku find the rhythm?

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Yeah. Yeah. Rub the salt vigorously and with a clockwards motion into the wound equally. It makes better jerky that way. Wait. What? Riku grins in a tight and annoyed fashion, the same annoyance that has been seeping through all morning driving his actions as he watches and waits but can't.. seem to keep up. His eyes move and his brain knows the pattern but something was very annoyingly off about his timing. Riku grits his teeth so hard his head starts to ache from the frustration. Pacing. Pacing back and forth. He almost ticks it off in his head, the clockwork nature of the movements. He can almost grasp an edge of it and.. then it falls away like sand and for a few seconds he's disoriented and his mind blank. He bears through it with a stubborn will not to make a fool of himself. "Hell with it." he grumbles under his breath. He counts off.. Lunge, lunge, charge, hold, combo, harry, harry, and simply flips the order out of sheer frustration. Joining those who jumped in for a quick strike, sword whistling down low towards the knees before literally flipping forwards and aiming a combination of strikes downwards as he twists in mid air and comes down with blade seeking shoulder and lower back and the back of one knee before he fades back to allow others the remainder of the sequence.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Zargabaath shifts his weight as the incoming dull whistle of a practice blade seeks his knees, feeling the whistling wind in its wake as it just barely misses. He ducks his head and spins his spear at ankle level with a deft swing of his arm to clear some space, flowing into an upwards slash up at Riku--who twists out of the spears trajectory and comes back down to terra-firma with a downwards slash that leaves a pretty decent welt diagonally across his back. A good thing Riku is not armed with an actual weapon. The soldiers shift their attack to take advantage, harrying the Judge Magister with flashes of metal and even an occasional kick or shove to destabilize balance. The Judge Magister still does not fall, lashing out with an impressive spinning somersault clean off the ground with his practice spear whirling all around his form. Upon landing, he launches into another round, though a sword blade manages to nick him across a hand when it clashes against his spear a little too close for comfort.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku huffs out a faint breath. A moment of satisfaction. He stretches out his shoulder, watching the interplay between the rest of the crew and trying to pick up the count again. Hold, harry, comb... wait. No. Riku shakes his head, pacing several steps and watching the judge Magister. Not taking anything for granted. Not looking away. Lunge, lunge, charge, hold, --and here he steps into the attacks again, attempting to pincer the Judge Magister between the one in front of him performing a combination as the others retreat. He slides forwards and down, driving the sword towards the Judge magister's ribs, the slice turned upwards to scrape into and bruise the underside of the arm if it hits and even if it does not, execute an arcing double slash towards the back of his knees hoping to drive the Judge Magister further into the advancing strikes of the others. At a crucial moment as he comes down, retreating back into the group his footing goes wrong and tangles and he crashes down momentarily onto one knee with a bone jarring thump.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath is being noticeably pressed, but you'd never know it by the expression on his face. Instead of the tense teeth-gritting frustration of someone being overwhelmed, there is a boyish glee with eyes bright and a perpetual grin on his face. Clearly, the Judge of Reason is enjoying the bout and not seeming to care. The group scatters, leaving one in front to cross blades with alone--no, wait, two! In an instant, he shifts /into/ Riku's charge, avoiding the flashing blades of the one while suffering another welt stretching across his ribs and smacking the underside of his arm. This actually causes Zargabaath to wheeze a bit, his breathing destabilized for a moment, and he twists away as Riku aims for the back of his knees. Then, Riku stumbles. The Judge of Reason whirls to capitalize, spear raised and crashing down with force--only to be blocked by two swords as two of the soldiers leap to Riku's aid. With his spear held, the Judge Magister levels a kick out to one trying to attack from behind, then initiates a stabbing motion at another that also frees his spear from the swords. Other soldiers harry, redirect, capture the attention to give Riku enough time to recover without overreaching their own abilities.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku just feels like hitting something. This, during a sparring match is usually looked at as a good thing but he /shouldn't/ have done that. After awhile you just stop thinking and start doing and if you can't even trust yourself to do basic things then he had.. and then he gets a grip on himself, shaking himself almost visibly out of his gnashing frustration. It's because of the way the Judge Magister is fighting more than anything else. He forgot that somewhere. That he had to /somewhere/ and at /sometime/ actually enjoy himself. This almost seems like an alien concept. He just.. lets go of it like a miasma that had been churning around him the entire morning. He'd done stupider things than look stupid in front of his allies, although it still nettled his pride as he forced himself to let it go. Riku shakes in a deep breath and smirks at his defenders, nodding to them as he begins to laugh very softly. "Aww.. come on, your honor." he says with a grin as he regains his feet. "I've got to admit. You put on a good show." he grins openly and starts counting in his head. "Still holding back though." he takes in a deep breath and lets it out, hand tightening on the grip of the practice sword. He pushes off after two quick strides, driving forwards and sliding to one side. Pushing as hard as he could against the double bladed spear as he slashes in quick, flashing arcs that go high twice and then low once and then high again.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Deep rumbling chuckles from Zargabaath explode into a full laugh as he parries, weaves, bobs, and almost dances a deadly blade two-step. Light scratches mix with sweat on his body, but he doesn't seem to even care. No quarter received, none given. "Then come!" The soldiers fall back as Riku takes the lead, Zargabaath whirling to meet the boy's sliding charge off to the side. Blades meet shaft as the two lock proverbial horns, then the Judge Magister is pushed back a step. The double strike is blocked, though the spear tremors threateningly in the man's hands as if about to break, then he hops into the air as Riku slashes low. He lands on the ground, swords clashing above him as soldier and Riku alike try mid or high range as if to try to catch him in midair. Unknowingly, this locks their blades into an almost solid mass above himself. He then explosively leaps high into the air like a dragoon, breaking through the unintended tangle of weapons above his head in the process, and twirls his spear above his head at the apex of the leap. He lets gravity take hold and spins his spear in front of him as he descends head-first, like an upside-down helicopter. He waits until the absolute last moment to twist his body enough to land on his feet at a deep crouch, almost kneeling, with a sharp flourish of the spear sweeping around at about mid-range at its ultimate reach. As he spins and whirls to meet more charges, more attempts, the center shaft falls free and drops to the ground uselessly. This frees the two practice blades once more, and turns the Judge Magister into a whirling dervish by proxy.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' And there is just a point in this debate of swirling swords that Riku isn't able to follow. Speed chess where the alarm of the clock jars you out of your thoughts and one of the sword attacks slides off his guard and slams into his chest hard enough to knock the breath out of him. He rolls backwards into a kneeling crouch, an arm holding his chest as he coughs out the little remaining air in his lungs and draws in a painful breath. The count is irretrievable at this point, just a whirling sequence that he tries to pull from person to person and fails every time. He finds himself smiling though as he painfully gets up to his feet and watches the whirling moves, too quick to follow. Dancing light and storm battering people and weapons. He goes back to circling, watching the people rather than the judge magister but the exchanges, the change offs, the subtle turns just mostly go over his head now. He had them, he had at least an edge of them and now.. There. Riku bolts into the space that was just recently occupied by another soldier, putting both hands around the sword and putting all of his momentum into it as he drops to one knee and /swings/ the sword around in a 'feint' that at the last second surges upwards in a diagonal slash as he surges back to his feet.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Finally, after this long, Judge Magister Zargabaath is caught flat-footed. Having not expected another to take a retreating combatant's place so soon, the Judge of Reason semi-turns to face this new foe--but its too late. The strike comes in hard, the diagonal slash catching him square across the torso and knocking him down flat onto his back hard enough to send a dirt cloud up around him. Truth be told, it was hard enough to knock the wind clean out of him as well. This seems to be the signal to stop, as the soldiers back off and lower their weapons with varying degrees of concern on their faces as their commander coughs, hacks, and wheezes in a breath. Of course, it probably doesn't help that Zargabaath is /laughing/ despite having no air in his lungs. "Well done!" He wheezes, leveraging himself up on one elbow, gasping for air and almost seeming a bit blue, but his smile is wide and genuine. "That shall... leave a bruise..." He looks at all of the soldiers in turn, pride strong in his gaze, even as he takes in Riku as well. "Just... give me a moment..." He flops back down, intermittently coughing and chuckling all the while. "Ah... that was fun."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku's smile evaporates as the Judge Magister looks at him. The pride strikes him like the felling stroke of an axe, sword falling away to his side forgotten as he locks gazes with Zargabaath, eyes widening slightly. The moment of happiness shatters with a blow of guilt so fiercesome that it nearly drives him to his knees. He looks away, unable to take it for more than a moment. His fingers slowly tighten against the hilt of the practice sword. Tighten until every muscle stands out against his skin. He looks around at the surroundings as if for the first time. The wonder stripped away by an even more terrifying comfort. Familiarity. The teenager takes in a few shallow, uncertain breaths and lets out a reedy, uncertain chuckle. He nearly recovers himself, smirking lopsidedly. The expression shatters and suddenly he couldn't breathe. Riku looks back at the judge magister and then around at the crew as if he were drowning, not noticing that he's taking a slow step backwards as if in preparations to bolt. He could close his eyes and almost picture it. Feel the sun. Hear the ocean and the rain and.. feel at home. This was wrong. It was all wrong. Nothing was supposed to feel like that again. This shouldn't feel like home. Not after what he had done to his own. Was he that willing to forget? It was just another place. Another place and another faceless host of people and another life he was simply wandering through... that had caught him.. and now he couldn't let go of it. The sword clattered to the ground, dropping from Riku's numbed fingers. Almost his control holds. But the faint chuff of the sword hitting the sand catalyzes the terror inside him and he bolts, pushing others out of the way and lunging across the training area to escape it.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The soldiers approach Riku to congratulate and praise him for a job well done are hastily shoved aside as the boy bolts out of the area. Some call after him, others shift to follow, but the Judge of Reason barks a sharp command that freezes them in place. "But... Your Honor...?" One soldier asks, looking trapped between duty and concern. "Let him go..." Zargabaath inhales deeply, finally finding enough room in his aching ribcage to hold his breath. "...Let him breathe..." He sits up, crossing his legs indian-style as he rests his arms on his knees. "He has been alone for some time, lost after his world fell." He looks up at each man in turn. "All of you remember Ivalice's fall, how lost we were as a group. How then would you have handled the loss of all you have known if you were utterly alone?" This seems to drive understanding home to the men, who can find no words of rebuttal and simply nod. Zargabaath turns his gaze back to the doors, eyes narrowing briefly in concern. "Someday... he will understand..." He slowly gets up and appraises the many welts, bruises, and cuts covering his body from shoulders to waist. "For now, we must simply be patient."

Advanced Warning

2013-06-22T02:49:01Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/15
|Location=Traverse Area - Traverse Town - Datapoint Security
|Synopsis=What one does when there is common enemy. With new information in hand (or on Disc), TRON decides to brave the lion's den to warn his worst enemy of Something (worse than) Wicked This Way Comes.
|Cast of Characters=TRON, MCP
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' On the outskirts of Traverse Town sits the headquarters for Datapoint Security, the security/police force that protects the twilit world. The walkway framed by carefully manicured greenery on each side and the complex's outward appearance of old red stone and ancient wood would give clear indication that someone of power lives here. And indeed, there is—and more besides. Usually, the ill-used dirt path alongside the abandoned rails, which would terminate at the beginning of the walkway, would remain as quiet and uneventful as always. This is not one of those days. A dust-cloud billows up from the distance as something fast approaches the headquarters, and on the wind you can hear the unmistakable whine of a highly-advanced motorcycle engine. Sure enough, as the last bend is reached, a light-blue first-generation Light Cycle screams on the path at what is most likely its top speed. However, as it approaches the transition point, the canopied vehicle suddenly goes transparent with blue lines of light tracing where its frame would be, then the rider tucks and rolls as even that disappears. The rider tumbles once, twice, then lunges to his feet at a long-legged jog before momentum gives out and his pace slows to a brisk march. His features aren't clear mid-tumble, but his appearance seems to change with each step. A possible helmet retracts into his neckline, revealing a human face with brown hair and narrowed brown eyes. Black ripples and becomes white, and glowing bluish-white thick lines trace over his form with a circular ring pulsing into sight framing a T-shaped mark on his chest. A solid blue baton is slipped onto a holster on his thigh, but no motion goes towards the silver Frisbee-like Disc between his shoulder-blades. He moves heedless of possible Black Guard intervention as he crosses the threshold into the garden of what would usually be enemy territory, his steps sharp and purposeful but his entire stance non-threatening. In fact, the expression on his face isn't hateful nor even angry—but clearly downright worried.

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' LANCER opens the door and peers out at the approaching Tron. "Uh. Hi." he says with several blinks and the slightly stunned look of data being processed a little too slowly or in too great amount. He shrugs at some unseen dialogue and points up the stairs. "He's in his office." The DPS agent then stands away from TRON and peers at him curiously. Nobody moves to intercept TRON. In fact, other than LANCER nobody seems to even take notice of him although there are several points where he /could/ be impeded by force screen or black guards. He simply is not. The MCP stands in one corner of his office watching the walls as surveillance images from nodes all over Traverse Town flicker between different scrolling feeds of data. His back is to the door and remains so.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON sharply nods once to LANCER as he enters DPS HQ, his stride unchanging. “Thank you, LANCER.” He isn't intending to be rude nor curt, but it's clear that the Security Program is in full business mode at the moment. Small talk is not in the queue at the moment, nor is his usual piercing snark. He doesn't pause nor even survey his surroundings as he makes his way to Master Control's office, impeded by no-one and nothing en-route up the stairs or within the hallways. He disregards the presence of any other Black Guards as one would dismiss a passing Data Pusher. In fact, his gait only slows as he approaches the MCP's office door, the first flicker of 'what the heck are you /doing/, Program' starting to impede his thought processes. No. No, he knows why he's here, and it's far too important. He also knows that Master Control is expecting him, otherwise he's certain beyond reasonable doubt that he'd be in a holding cell by now otherwise. He raps his knuckles on the door twice in sharp staccato, then opens the door and enters the office. He only advances far enough into the room to let the door close behind him, ignoring the data-feeds flickering in his peripheral vision. His sole attention is focused on Master Control's back, albeit without that distrustful borderline-reproachful look that would usually be standard. “Administrator.” He stands at perfect attention, his hands folding together at the small of his back. “We have a major problem.” Something is /very/ wrong if /TRON/ is giving /Master Control/ the proper respect due to a System Administrator.

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' "There are always problems, system monitor." Apparently the courtesy goes both ways and with about as much general inflection and nuance as assembly code. MCP studies a familiar light mapping while the surveillance cameras continue to scroll, his voice distracted. "..the questions always arise when it comes time to choose a solution. Speak. I am curious as to what is so important."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON successfully resists the urge to raise an eyebrow at the return title. He was never User-promoted to System Monitor... but this is hardly the time nor place for nitpicking nuances, especially considering this may be the sole time the two will be halfway civil to each other. He does not mince words, either, his calm voice only having a fraction of urgency within its otherwise-neutral tones. “Within one week's time, a Shadow Lord named Garland will come to Traverse Town.” He removes his Discs, putting his Silver Disc down at his foot and holding up his White Disc like a plate in the palm of his hand out towards the Administrator. An image appears above the Disc's hollow center, a moving image of Garland emerging from a Corridor of Darkness with pureblood Heartless emerging from a misty trail of pure Darkness in his wake. “His goal is undoubtedly to attack this town and anyone in it, extracting justice for past wrongs by spilling innocent blood as repayment.” The 'video' continues, showing Garland attacking Count Valos, how spells and Darkness is almost visibly brute-forced into being, his outright mastery of combat and tactics. All of this seems to be from one encounter, and apparently from a first-person perspective—clearly TRON's. TRON himself is ignoring the memories playing back in his mind with full audio as they display for Master Control to see, that terrible laugh being the worst of all and echoing from every corner of his mind even after it ends. Instead, he focuses on the pure data. “I have heard VALKYRI and the Twilight Detective Agency are already making preparations for Garland's coming, calling upon favors and allies alike. However, I was not certain whether or not Datapoint Security had access to this information, hence why I am here now.”

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' MCP still seems absorbed in whatever he is already thinking about until the datafeed starts to play. He stops it at several points, rewinding and replaying the copy of that file once he has already watched it for a first time. Several screens now show multiple images of that file, running at different speeds and stopping and restarting in different places. The office remains silent, no audio being transmitted so that nothing but the somehow ominous hum of electronics fills the air. "..Fascinating." the administrator gives a very small and amused smile. "Perhaps there is something to be learned from such phantoms, to startle you so. Is that all?" all of the windows freeze and then close simultaneously as he turns away from TRON, returning to his study of the light map with no hint of either worry or interest.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON lowers his Disc once the video concludes, recombining his Discs and returning it to the spindle on his back. He has no witty or venomous comeback for Master Control, not even seeming to react with body language nor expression to the attitude shown. Either it's a perfect example of self-control, or the Security Program simply does not even care right now. He has done his part. Datapoint Security has been warned. What they do with the information, if anything, is their concern and their responsibility. TRON will fight in Traverse Town's defense regardless. His reply is thus very simple. “That is all.” He inclines his head. “I will take my leave, Administrator. Thank you for your time.” With that, he makes a sharp and perfect about-face and moves to leave the office with the same business-like stride that brought him in here.

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' MCP continues to study the lightmap for a long time after TRON has already left, studying the pathways and the connections. A very, very light sound emits from the cane laying on the desk some steps away. "HEIMDALL?" he says over the radio network as he brings up the video file again and plays it frame by frame, studying the feed. "..go find CHIEF, if you would." the last few frames scroll by and the MCP's eyes pulse faintly as he makes a slow turn of the surveillance footage of Traverse Town. "It's time."

Computer Shopping

2013-06-22T02:46:39Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/06/19
|Location=Southern Manhattan
|Synopsis=In order to utilize the digitizing laser, TRON and Deelel need to rebuild a computer to run the software and Avira joins them on their search for parts. The irony of Programs building a computer is not lost on anyone.
|Cast of Characters=Avira, Deelel, TRON
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' You can find almost anything in Southern Manhattan, everything from convenience stores to specialty shops. There has been plenty of time to figure out where everything happens to be, and one store in particular is of great interest. A computer store. Though the digitizing laser is almost complete (with no small amounts of error involved), there needs to be a computer system in place to command it. So here they are, walking into a little store of computer parts and pieces with nothing but a generalized idea. 'Alan' is in his standard clothing, tugging at his hands nervously as if he was readjusting actual leather gloves. Dealing with anything User-side is nerve-wracking for him as it is, but to build a computer system from the outside?

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel has found it's a good source of parts and the like and here Deelel is along side 'Alan', clothing is not too bad but it's more circuit lines visible on her skin which she just tells people are tattoos anyway here she is and she's looking over at TRON she's also just about as nervous they are ... doing something no Basic has ever done before. Even with her affinity for machines it's kinda left her a bit cowed as she keeps up with her friend looking for parts as well, she thankfully had the sense to make up a list.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan is well-aware of what they are here for, and he has a ballpark estimate of what they need based on some papers he'd found in Kevin Flynn's office. But finding the right actual items... well, that's going to be fun. "Funny how we revere technology but know so little about it," he comments over to Deelel, a self-depreciating smirk on his face. He picks up a few items here-and-there, eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses. "What is the term... to boldly go where none have gone before?"

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "It's true but given out situation." She at least has made enough money busting heartless over the last year or so to cover anything that Alan might be short on a she stats hunting for more parts. "It is...then again. We'd never had access to it in this way before. They don't even know, what they do when they do this." Alan knows and she knows. They are flat out creating an entire world and it's still a bit humbling to think about really. "I think that's the term yes. I don't think we should cut any corners on hardware quality either." Seriously Basics were going to live on this thing she wasn't about to ahem cheap out on parts. Seriously Users had no idea what cutting corners did.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan nods. If his suspicions are right about the extra data he took from Shinra and have kept safe since... Well. They won't recreate a whole new world. They'll restore an existing one. Same principle as restoring a Userspace World Shard, but so completely different. "Agreed, gather what you can. Just remember: we don't need any software or an operating system," he reminds Deelel. Redundant, perhaps, but his experiences with the original computer system (still at ShinRa) have proven that an Operating System conflict will do no good whatsoever. "I'll be over at the monitors and cases." He slips away to the computer screens and other input devices, secretly bemoaning the fact they couldn't get back the original computer with its nice touch-screen and all.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel looks back to Alan for a moment "I understand, don't worry we already got the software we need right it's just the hardware. Still some of the parts we need humm i'm going to go check down this isle." It seems Shinra had not master the art of the dual boot it seems. "I'll be checking for the RAM and hard drive." She's going to go for the best they have, ya no cheeping out here tonight.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "Hey guys. Need some help?" A familiar voice says from the other side of the asile. A few seconds later, Avira peeks around the corner. "I was in town, decided to track you down." She steps around the corner fully and reveals that...she is in fact dressed in Manhattan clothing. Were it not for her Spine, which is still strapped to the small of her back, and her scars, she'd fit in perfectly. "How goes the rebuilding?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan wanders through his chosen area, shaking his head at the sheer variety of parts and pieces at their disposal. Just how many different types of keyboards or mice do people /need/, anyways? He will never understand Users. At least it isn't so critically important. Not like RAM or a CPU. He grabs a combo-pack that satisfies both and moves on, wandering along the monitors. At least Deelel has a set list of what is needed--nice hard data. He jumps slightly at Avira's sudden appearance, then smiles slightly. "It is good to see you again, Avira. Yes, help would be very welcome." He nods slightly, eyes half-closing in thought seperate from the current conversation. "Rebuilding is going well. Cleaning the building is complete, so we're working on the basement now. This requires a computer, however..." His voice trails off as he glances ruefully over at the monitors. "...And it is very odd to be on the outside doing this."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel can get at least the need for ascetics after all art is kinda of her thing she wouldn't be here if Users were not that way after all. She's checking over the drives and thinks she finds s suitable one checking it over yes she's not going to want to get a stinker. She pauses as she hears Avira enter and there's a grin on her face as she moves to join up with Alan and Avira. "You are very much welcome and it's about as Alan said. We also likely need to get some new games to keep with things as some of the old units are not working and honestly we need to ... make sure we can get people interested for the modern stuff as well. As for help please, it would be welcome and ... I'm going to be honest. This is kind of ... creepy for us to be doing this."

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira puts a hand to her mouth as she starts laughing at the thought. Programs shopping for computers! "Well, in a way, you are sort of buying your own house, aren't you? You get to control the specs in this case where before you didn't have the choice." She clasps her hands behind her back and follows after the two. "New games, huh? Maybe I can make a suggestion or two. Gaming really wasn't my thing though."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' The irony is not lost on Alan, though he only chuckles in reply. "Yes, I suppose you're right. It's not so daunting when explained like that." He picks up an average-sized monitor and looks it over like a kid would look at a wrapped present at Christmas. "I just wish to know what has happened to our homes." The plural is clearly not a mistake, though the significance of the distinction isn't apparent. "This computer would get us one step closer..." He shakes his head and shifts the monitor onto his shoulder. "Avira, have you noticed anything... odd... with Maira as of late? She gave us a hand cleaning for a bit, but ran away. She seemed... distressed."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "I'd be happy to hear it, Avira." She pauses sets the hard drives box down. "I also found one that involves music. If I only get to pick one game that we add Alan I want that to be the one I pick." DDR, your all doomed. Deelel will likely keep slipping new songs into it. "Perhaps but Avria I think you need to see it to fully understand. I would not have been able to understand your world without seeing something like the sun? That was an alien concept to me." She pauses spying a program box on a shelf starts giggling and picks it up. The laughing stops however as TRON brings up Maira. "She doesn't seem to be doing so well, no. She was quite ... steamed about something." She then comes up aside Avira and keeps the box just out of sight, what is she up to with that?

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira beams, happy to make this task less imposing on TRON in some way. It's also kind of adorable, she notices, just how excited the security program is getting over the monitors. Granted, there are plenty of humans that do the same. Then, a topic is brought up that she wasn't expecting to hear here. Though in reviewing the last few moments on the VALKYRI channel, she discovers why. "Yeah, yeah I have. It's stress, Alan. Stress and a few other things. You know how this whole thing with her dad and the princess of Heart and Dark Knight deal is? It's a lot of weight on her shoulders." Avira closes her eyes, knowing exactly what it's all like. Of course, there was also the matter of Angantyr, but Maira had confided that to her privately. She's not sure it's something she wanted to spread-or should spread without Maira's consent. "Is it possible for a human to enter your world..?" Avira asks curiously.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan nods in understanding at the topic of Maira. "I have heard a little about it, but it is... understandable." His voice drops slightly as a purely empathic tone softens his voice, able to relate on many levels. "I wish I could help, but I fear there is little I can do." He responds immediately at Avira's question, clearly without thinking: "Yes." He stops abruptly upon speaking that one word, a downright befuddled look on his face as his eyebrows knit together. It takes a few moments of almost visible processing, the pupils of his eyes glowing white in the meantime, before he speaks again. His voice takes a ponderous, rather cautious tone, as if he doesn't fully understand himself. "It seems... it has happened once before--a User being pulled into the Grid. Personally speaking, /I/," there is a very odd but quite intentional emphasis there, "have not known it to happen."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel frowns a little bit. "Wait the Dark Knight as in ... that warrior I faced some time ago?" She's still holding that program box behind he back, just what is she up to? She thinks for a moment on Avira's question. "I ... did find something in the laser room on our world's end the night I first arrived here. I think it was some sort of fruit? So with what TRON said it should be possible I admit...I can't of very many other people I'd want to have to be the first Users to see our home. Also we wouldn't have trouble with your name at all either see!" She holds up a copy of AVIRA anti viral by Avira. "Look Alan! See Avira is a totally normal name!"

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "I'm at a bit of a loss myself." Avira says quietly, "It's frustrating. I'm her best friend but I don't know how to help her." Which was the truth, even when it came to the Maira issue she hadn't explicitly mentioned. Realizing she'd been a little cavalier about her Grid/Program talk, Avira makes an apologetic face, "Interesting." she offers on the subject of humans on the Grid, but fails to follow up so TRON won't have to talk about this subject in "public." Her thoughts turn to DDR. "I'd actually give DDR a try if you put it in the arcade...uh..." Avira takes the antivirus box and looks at it. "....I had no idea this product existed." she says, embarassed. "It wasn't my intention to name myself after this!"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan doesn't bother to correct Avira's misunderstanding as to his visible confusion and lets the topic drop. What is he supposed to say? 'Yeah, a User named Flynn hacked my code and uploaded all sorts of data that seem to originate from another TRON. I can sometimes randomly access this data without meaning to and sometimes I can't even tell which information is mine and which is this other's. Oh, by the way, Deelel and I originate from different Grids, so there just might be multiple Dataspace worlds just as there are Userspace ones.' No, some topics are best left alone. He peers at the box, blinking for a moment as the significance breaks through his thoughts, then he just starts laughing as he bends forwards at the waist. Never mind the fact that he's carrying a combo mouse-keyboard pack under one arm and a heavy monitor over the opposite shoulder with no apparent regard for their weight. It is a laugh of broken tension, a welcome escape from what ails him. "It seems you are destined to stick with us, Avira," he jokes to the VALKYRI leader, heading towards the checkout desk. "Let's get this stuff back to the arcade."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "It sounds like a plan we got a long night ahead of us. It should be worth it though, we got a lot of people counting on us or they won't ever wake up again." Deelel falls in with her friends it was time to get to work.

...Arcade Is

2013-06-22T02:12:34Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/06/21
|Location=Flynn's Arcade
|Synopsis=Continues directly after [[Home Is Where The...]]

After everything calms down, TRON and Deelel finally get some information out of the mysterious Program who wears TRON's suit.
|Cast of Characters=Deelel, TRON, Beck (Aka: Renegade)
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' A few hours have passed since LEXUS' attack. The damage to the building itself isn't too bad, the cut power main notwithstanding. Broken windows have been boarded with plywood, and the fire was dealt with early on thanks to Avira's ice magic. Police have taken away the main perpetrators--the 'scruffy men' who damaged the property outright--and medical personnel have taken care of the wounded. Only after everything has been dealt with and repairs have been lined up does TRON return to the upper level of the arcade, where he has left the mysterious not-TRON while he has dealt with the attack's fallout. He still shows signs of damage, the long and deep burn still in the left side of his back. He is nursing a potion, though, so it has not been completely ignored. "Everyone alright here?" He asks, more a generalized question out of habit than individual concern for the moment.

:'''[[Renegade]] has posed:''' Not-TRON is still out cold on the couch. He hasn't really moved an inch since he was laid up here. Though the damage from LEXUS was still very present. Deep gashes in his body, though they were healing. Slowly. Virus' always left a nasty mark on any program. The fact he probably wasn't infected is maybe a state of his sheer will, if anything else. Those were some nasty hits he did take. Yet though silent for a moment, as TRON speaks up. The mystery program's hand twitches gently to the sound of TRON's voice. He mutters something that is hard to make out, before he moves his finger tips again. So apparently, he was still alive!

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel has been working on the clean up after everyone's injuries were tended too she was looking a bit frazzled after all the chaos that has happened and she's been working pretty hard. There's a few bits of older grid tech here mostly Deelel's artist tools than anything. Technology that is kinda of out of place in this world however she's now flopped out in one part of the room and looking up over at TRON. "Alive, and thankful we didn't lose anyone protecting the server. OR the server it self." She pauses for a moment as she sees the other !TRON move. "Seems he's coming too."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods slowly to Deelel. "Yes." He tosses away the potion carelessly and rolls his shoulders experimentally. The sound of grinding broken glass meets any movement of his left shoulderblade, so he gives up trying to move it further. "The laser is fried. Likely overloaded when our newfound guest came through. It'll take time to repair... or rebuild outright." He takes a seat, letting his form shift back to his black suit with only the occasional dot-and-dash bluish-white light for 'program lines'. He leans forwards, resting his forearms on his thighs and leaning heavily against them, and focuses solely on the white doppelganger as signs of life ensue. At this point, he simply falls silent and waits. His expression is weary, a little pained, but otherwise rather neutral.

:'''[[Renegade]] has posed:''' The doppelganger's hand twitches gently, before he at least seems to stir and slowly roll to his side, placing his hand up to his helm. "..frag me.." He says softly. "..where.." He suddenly realizes he still isn't in Kansas and looks around the room. "Huh?" He suddenly goes to sit up and flops back on the couch curling up in pain. "..Nrrh. Not a smart idea." He reminds himself as he tries to force himself to relax. He stays quiet for a moment. Letting his body relax and his mind sort itself out. "..Right.. this is.. that strange building.. the virus.. those.." whatever they were. TRON 2.0 tries once more to sit up. This time, far more slowly as he leans his back carefully against the sofa. Then at last the helmet pulls back and down revealing the young program's face behind the helm. Those tired brown eyes, dark brown hair with slightly messy bangs off to one side. He looks over at TRON and seems to stare at him for a long moment, before he looks at Deelel. Then slowly back at TRON. "..I still can't believe.. its you." He says softly. "..yet.. is it really?" He then frowns softly, as realization crosses his mind. No. No this is not TRON, at least-- its not his TRON. "..maybe.. I.." The young program then places his hand up to his forehead as he sits forward a bit. "..I owe you some explanations.. don't I?"

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "True enough we'll do what we can on that. I'm just thankful we drove off LEXUS." She slumps where she is looking at the other program as he starts to wake up. "Hopefully he won't...." She pauses tilting her head for a moment. "Greetings program." She looks sympathetically at the other TRON for a moment "It would be nice but first how about we introduce ourselves. I'm Deelel a multimedia program." She smiles a little bit and then tilts her head again.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON doesn't move. Doesn't even respond as this doppleganger Program sorts through the available data. His expression does change somewhat, but only his dark brown eyes holding a deep sorrow only he would be able to explain if he wished--which he doesn't. There is no recognition whatsoever to the newcomer even after the helm disappears. "Yes... you do," he replies back simply. "And, as Deelel said, a name would be nice as well." He refuses to call this newcomer 'TRON', no matter what he may claim.

:'''[[Renegade]] has posed:''' The Program looks over to Deelel, then over to TRON. His brows furrow as he stares at TRON, as if almost wanting something to be said. A reaction of some kind. Yet he knows that wont come. It can't come. For whatever reason, he knows deep down, that-- isn't the same TRON. There are things that just are not right. Yet-- they look /so/ much alike. So how could he /NOT/ be TRON? The mystery program slowly clasps his hands together, ignoring the pain from the wounds. He then looks up at Deelel once more with his brown eyes before he gives a nod of his head. "..well.. depending on how you saw me.. would depend on what I would be called. Like this, where I come from.. I am known as the Renegade by.. CLU's forces.. and those of the Grid.. I am known as TRON." The Renegade then frowns a little. "Though thanks to some.. problems, the reputation has become a bit.. tarnished." He then goes to rest his forehead against his thumbs. He gently taps his head before he at last reaches back behind him to remove his disc. He holds the disc in his hands. "I fight to free the Grid from CLU's rule. He is enslaving programs under his command and taking away our freedoms. He wants to make the.. perfect.. system. One free of all imperfection and disorder." He doesn't go into more detail beyond that. The Renegade then slides the top part of the disc armor, until it unlocks. He lays the one half carefully beside him, showing the other side. When he removes the white disc. The other disc becomes black, like a normal Program's disc. His white body suit starts to shift to a black one and the whole circuit lines now change. "But-- when I am not fighting CLU... well.." He tries to smile, but finds himself only frowning and looking away. "Then I am just Beck. A mechanic.. and not even the best either, but I have gained some skills thanks to my other occupation."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel looks at the other program for a moment and pauses for a moment and seems to blink in confusing as she hears the name CLU." She listens and thinks some more going through her own memories as she recalls somethings she's forgotten she listens for a moment. CLU she knows that name but this isn't adding up with what she remembers. She frowns now and she tilts her head for a moment and says "It seems then my stand again LEXUS alone before was more than worth it."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON's eyebrows furrow at mention of this 'CLU'. Something deep in his processor triggers, his hidden white Disc whirring softly, and he shakes his head as he regulates that datastream to the background. The foreign data has struck again, and he's in no mood to deal with it. "You are not TRON," he says quietly, standing up and walking around the room, staying seperate from the other two Programs, "so Beck you will be." There's something in the way he says that which indicates the topic is not up for debate. He lifts his right hand to rub at the back of his head, pausing for a time to stare out over the Arcade at the lower level. "You've been pulled into a User world, Beck, specifically one called 'Manhattan'. This building is Flynn's Arcade--the real one, not the digital representation of it." He doesn't have to assume that's how it was in the Other Grid like it was in his own--he just knows.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck raises an eye brow and smirks softly as TRON seems to put his foot down on the subject of what his name will be. "..Man.. you still talk like.." He chuckles softly and gives a faint nod. Rubbing his own disc gently in his hands. Beck then looks over to Deelel. "So you fought him alone before? That had to be something else." The young program then looks back at TRON as he goes to explain stuff. He raises an eye brow. "..wait.. user world? Manhattan?" He seems very confused suddenly. "...I.. don't think I fully understand, but... alright." Beck then looks at the white disc, then at TRON. "But there is something you will need to understand. In my home, when I am in your.." Is your the right term for this? May as well be. "..your suit. I am /you/. They don't know I am Beck. If they found out I was, they would not only hunt me down, but they would derez everyone I know to /get/ to me." "So I don't mind you calling me Beck outside of home, but if anyone comes from out of there. They can't hear you calling me that.. I mean.. haha.. if they saw you.. they would ki..ki..kill you." He stutters on that one part as he bites gently down on his teeth for a moment in thought. "I-- I should get back. Zed and Mara are going to have my neck as is." Sadly Beck didn't get the memo on the laser, as he goes to try and stand up. Then winces in pain before he plops back down.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel shivers. "It didn't end well I would have been voxels id he hadn't plans for me. I god lucky with someone else aquiring me ebfore that happened." She looks as TRON explains some imporant things. SO she doesn't "Users, the world where Flynn came from orginally." Deelel seems concerned at this and she blinsk confused for a moment "I hate to say this the laser's been damaged we need to see what is broken and repair it..."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON's hands clench suddenly at his sides. "I perhaps talk like 'him' because I /am/ 'him'." He bites out almost every word, but doesn't look at either Program. In fact, he seems to be keeping his back towards them on purpose. This distinction between himself and some nebulous 'other TRON' is grinding and is trying to pull up data he really doesn't want to face right now. "And if you think I will derezz your cover so easily, perhaps you--" He cuts himself off, visibly stuffing back something that, if said, would be irreversable. Instead, he shifts gears to the next concern. "Deelel's right. Your arrival here downright fried it, possibly beyond repair. For now, until it's fixed or rebuilt, you're stuck here."

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck then goes to stand up officially now. Ignoring the pain and picking up the other disc piece. "I what?" Beck states with his eyes narrowing. "Don't know you?" He frowns a little and shakes his head. "..and yes.. you are him. You are allot like him.. Even to the fact of keeping your back turned toward the group who cares about you so they don't have to see your face." "Mostly because you don't want questions asked right now, cause your trying to seek the answers yourself." Beck then ponders what to do with the two halves in his hand. He fiddles with it a bit, but doesn't try to fully reconnect them. He then looks over to Deelel as she also echoes the same thing as TRON. "Like I said. I am a mechanic. How hard can this thing be to fix compared to a Grid Tank or a Light jet." He then smiles. "I bet I can get It done in no time." He then gives Deelel a bit of a playful wink. However his brown eyes then go to seek TRON's reflection in the glass. "TRON," He says calmly. "I know you don't know me.. and.. you probably don't trust me either.. but.. I promise you, just as I always have. I wont let you down." He then pauses. "..and that goes for trust as well."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel cinges if Deelel knew anything about the other TRON it was lost in jumble of her memories. "A mechanic really?! Given how users build things you'd be suprised. Durable often but ... it's clunky." She makes a bit of a face and she grins a little more more at BEck now for a moment. "You did help against LEXUS that counts for a bit. As for a mechanic huh? My light cycle could use a look. It's an old model, really old and I been kinda hard on it..." She looks to TRON for a moment nodding what else can she do there.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON doesn't respond to Beck immediately, his shoulders twitching beneath his silver Disc as each sentence Beck states in retort hits bullseyes each and every time. Yes, this Program really did know the 'other TRON', and there doesn't seem to be many differences at all. He avoids confirming or denying Beck's insights, instead keeping conversational focus on the laser itself. "Your tools may not work in the User world exactly as they did in your Grid. Our Light Cycles couldn't rez properly until we had another Program recalibrate them. You may need to make modifications accordingly." He would show Beck the baton to prove his point, but it's all he can do to stay where he is. Deelel's enthusiasm saves him from needing to do so, anyways. He catches Beck's gaze reflecting off of the glass in front of him, sees the honesty, and his chin dips slightly as his own gaze lowers away from the reflection. The Security Program seems to be more sorrowful than actually angry, looking all the world like the rug's been pulled out from under him. "I believe you," he allows quietly, and that is all he says on the matter. He turns back towards the doors leading into the main room. "Feel free to stay up here and rest as long as you like. If you /do/ decide to look at Deelel's Light Cycle, I would strongly advise you to do so /outside/." He allows the briefest of smirks on his face as he glances back at them. "Game Light Cycles are notoriously tempermental, after all." And with that, he leaves the loft and disappears into the crowds of game stations on the main floor.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck glances over to Deelel as she talks about an old light bike. He tilts his head a bit thinking on that. "How about after I fix the this laser. Then I can see about your bike, alright?" He did have a ton of questions he himself wanted to ask but he can feel the effects of the fight starting to pull on him again and he sways a little. He really should just-- lay back down, honestly. He does study what reflection he can see in TRON's face and hrms softly. Once TRON is done he gives a gentle nod of his head and then flops back on the couch with one leg propped up on top of the couch itself and his other ankle finding itself resting on the arm of the couch. "..But yeah.. laser first-- then bike. Unless laser drives me crazy, then bike first." he says with a smirk, before keeping the one half close and carefully hooking the half disc back on. He have to do something about that later. For now however. He seems to be moving himself to get some shut eye.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel Deelel says "Yes doing so in here this is a living space and a bad idea to do so. We're already fixing it up from the attack." She tilts her heads a little bit and looks to Beck. "Sounds like a plan the bike will hold a little bit longer. If you need energy let either us us know it's just a bit strange." She gets up and stretchers a little and she looks over to TRON. "I'll keep Beck out of trouble as best I can." She looks back TRON, "Yes they are they are not like ... the later models at all. Well thank you for your help I'm going to get some energy myself..."

Informational Reboot

2013-06-22T02:12:07Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/06/07
|Location=Southern Manhattan
|Synopsis=TRON refuses to let Deelel back into the Arcade until he's certain that he knows what Datapoint Security did to her. Her explanation gives him more data than he'd bargained for and confirms his deepest fears.
|Cast of Characters=Deelel, TRON
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' The Arcade has been locked up tight since Deelel's capture in Traverse Town. TRON had elected to not attempt fixing the place on his own, and he wanted to be sure none could trace /him/ back to /it/. It is a highly fragile thread of hope, restoring an arcade that has been closed for decades, but it is all the Programs have. HIS Programs. It also has not been unlocked or touched since then, not even after Deelel was freed. Once they had left Datapoint Security's base, TRON had allowed Deelel act on her newfound freedom only after making her promise that they would meet back up in Southern Manhattan once she has straightened matters out. He has been waiting here for a few days now, blending in with the crowds while leaning forwards against the fence around an area of Central Park, watching people and animals alike come and go. There are many things that have bothered him as of late, and the situation with Deelel has brought that directly to the forefront of his thoughts. No more whirling of gears. He intends to get answers from assumptions. Now. Today.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel had friends to tell she was all right, she had to also inform the Shard Seekers about that one of their own has likely joined the force of darkness. It was a good thing too as some people, well at least one was unaware of what happened on Shiki's trip. She knows she's got to talk TRON there's no hiding it, she knows just how badly she'd screwed up. She's also got some other thingsd to do as she makes for the point in the park where they were going to meet. She does like this place. Time to face the music as she holds up a hand to wave to Tron. Barring her outfit she really doesn't seem too out of palce, well barring the circuit lines which are normally mistaken for tattoos. Either way she's here. "So...yes. I know I got a lot of explaining to do and yes you don't need to tell me how disappiinted you are with me...I think I got that message already...."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON straightens up upon spotting Deelel's waving, his expression registering recognition but otherwise very neutral. As she speaks, however, he simply crosses his arms over his chest. "Perhaps so, but it goes deeper than that," he rumbles. His voice is almost flat, though with an edge that is barely sheathed. "You have breached my trust." He pauses just for a moment to let that sink in, then continues, "Now I have no idea what Master Control has done to you, or if he is capable of tracking you even now." He stiffly takes a seat on a bench and motions for Deelel to do the same. "So I need you to start from the beginning--starting with why you decided on such an action--and tell me /everything/ that has happened up to the time they released you."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel isn't going to be surprised if TRON wants to never have anything to do with her again after this. She just kinda slinks but she doesn't run at least. "I also have some things to explain as well. I had continued to grow suspicious of DPS behaviour with the several attacks where their turrets remained idle through out the city even when hostile actions were going on from a Shadow Lord. I thought I could sneak in check and get out without anyone being the wiser. I was wrong, they had laid a trap and lured me in. Which I fell for hook line and sinker. I didn't fight back as I couldn't take all the black guard at once. I was taken to a holding cell and kept there for most of my time there but it seems my earlier survival in the gaming pits had confused MCP given I'm not a security program nor a military one." She takes a deep breath "I was visited by CHIEF several times he seemed concerned enough about me to visit me and it comes down to it. It ... I was broken TRON." She frowns a little bit more. "As I said my survival bothered MCP to the point he spent a large amount of times ruining SIMs to see how I might have survived and should have been with my apparent specs against what he had in his archives. I should have died a long time before we even met." She grimaces more "He came to me with this and he's also been studying me and my disc. I'm not a few cycles old TRON, I'm several hundred and I'm not even from ENCOM OS. He'd made me a deal with the implications of my freedom if I cooperated with it. Or perhaps I was miss reading him." There are changes in how Deelel behaves, her body language falls in line a bit more with those of users and she's speaking more like one as well. "I accepted realizing I was very likely broken and given I figured I'd be derezzed sooner or later if I didn't play along. It turns out I'm ... old TRON, a lot older than I thought. I'd been running in a dubbed down state all my time in ENCOME. I'd been locked in a backwards compatibility mode, I'm not from ENCOM OS, I'm from another system." She pauses taking the disc of her back for a moment flipping it over in her hands while it's powered down. "I'm old tron as I said over three hundred cycles old to be exact. There's still a lot of my own memory to go over it's a lot to take in. It's still not all making sense to me yet but I was from a system that had more incoming with this city than ENCOM OS did. All they really did so far as I know was flip me back to what state I should have been in the first place and it was like my mind was no longer dubbed down, like it was before. It's akin to maybe? A user while they are a child and then when they are matured is the best way I can think." She moves to hand TRON the disc. "Here take it, look over the data as you wish. I haven't had a chance to process everything yet there's just been so much. It was inaccessible to me because of the bit rates it was encoded at was beyond that of the ENCOM OS. SO most of my life was just cut off and I was like a newly compiled basic. Funny isn't it? Least my directives always the same well there's too much data there for it to be a fake that much I do know Tron. There's way too much data on my disk for it to be a ruse or junkdata. Go take a look take the time you need but please don't good to far with it. I can't be parted from it for long, bad things will happen to me if I lose it. On my system one's disc was a part of each program, from the moment they were rezzed." She hands Tron the disc and waits now.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON listens carefully, clearly processing each and every word. But as the explanation progresses, his eyes glaze over as if staring beyond the horizon, unbidden images of his own playing in his vision. Data locked down due to not enough bandiwith... is that the significance of his white Disc? Not of his Grid... He stares at the offered Disc, uncomprehending, then accepts it and places it in the palm of his hand. "You... are like CHIEF, then..." His voice is dull, without life. "Then it is true... there /are/ other Grids... just as there are other Userspace worlds..." The images that flash above the Discs are too rapid for human sight to follow, snapshots of what TRON sees-- Only for the plainclothed Security Program to almost drop Deelel's Disc, clutching at his head as a faint whirr'ing sound emanates from somewhere on his back. He overrides the data access, halting the process before it can go any further... but the data pulled up from that locked white Disc matches Deelel's. Knowledge not his own. "I should have known..." He shakily offers Deelel's Disc back to her. "No recreational... Games... on my Grid... No media Programs either... Nothing fit, until now..." He looks downright stunned, planting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands in a substantially less tight grip.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel listens to TRON and waits she knows he's got a lot to take in. She pauses for a moment She listens to TRON ahe speaks and she nods. "It looks like it TRON. Look I'm still sifting through my memories but ...." She trails off as TRON seems to be in a spot of trouble. She moves to TRON out of concern for him nbut sees that he's able to pull himself offer she takes the disc and nods to TRON. "I had no idea...either I didn't think much about it." She frowns but she does remeber something else. "I worked...at a place much like a club you'd find in this city." She shakes her head a little bit as if trying to clear it. "It's still coming back to me too. I'm sorry if it was a lot to take in I'm still making sense of it now too."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON sits still for a long time. Processing, evaluating, gauging... Enough. "I see." He sits up abruptly, sitting far too stiffly to be natural. "I detected no sign of actual tampering or repurposing in your code..." He closes his eyes, pushing up his glasses as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. "No lasting harm was done by your improvised infiltration, even if it left me with untold hardship. In fact... it has actually ended up helping us." He smiles wanly, a poor attempt at best. "The blueprints and protocols for the digitizing laser... I didn't give the sole copy to DPS, after all."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel lets TRON recover but seems to be worried about him as she does come close she listens. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through and anyone else..." She pauses looking outright shocked at TRON's words. "Wait what helped...." She pauses for a moment then starts laughing. "You managed to pull one over on the big bad Master Control Program." She calms down. "...very well done. So we have a way ... home...? Or at least to your home."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON inhales, the breath uncertain at best. This whole revelation has shaken him to the core... but he is the leader of the resistance. He can't just exhibit emotions at a drop of the hat so wildly, he knows that. Never mind the fact that he is sure there is another... Later. At Deelel's laughter, though, he smiles a bit more honestly this time. "I wouldn't say that. After all, it was never specified how many copies could be made. Only that Master Control got one." He reaches over his shoulder and pats at the lump between his shoulderblades. "If nothing else, Program memory is a wonderous thing." He shakes his head at the question, though. "We have to get a new computer. Rebuild the laser from scratch. Upload the correct operating system and make sure everything /works/." The task is daunting, he must admit. "But before we do any of that... let's get the Arcade back up and running. Why bother restoring the basement when we can do the same to everything from roof to sub-floor?"

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel notices TRON perk up a bit at her revalation "This way no one knows we have it. I can go looking for hardware to run it. Should be easy enough in Manhattan. The laser might take a bit of doing and I suggest we buy parts on different world as well. It's not going to be easy but we hace a chance and humm. Yes why not we could even reopen it. I know that one woman I met claimed she went to the arcade so there might be interest. It also be an source of income to keep us going." She unders user space means you need mummy after all. "So I guess we start by cleaning?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON chuckles softly. "Yes. We return to cleaning." He heaves himself up off of the bench and stretches, rolling his shoulders at the end and emitting a low huff. "Probably what little work we did before the recent fiasco has been undone by time... so might as well start at the beginning once again." No matter though. At least they even can.

Digital Diplomacy, Pt. 2

2013-06-22T02:11:52Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/05/29
|Location=Goug - Shinra HQ
|Synopsis=After a long week or so of hard work, TRON reaches the last computer in ShinRa's network. Will technical difficulties keep him from getting the information he needs?
|Cast of Characters=Minerva, TRON
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' This has taken much longer than TRON had expected. The task given to him by Rufus Shinra was deceptively simple. Install protective measures on all of ShinRa's systems, and he will receive the data promised to him--data concerning the digitizing laser and the data needed to use it. What he had not anticipated was how different ShinRa's systems actually are, comparatively speaking. It's akin to switching between Windows, Linux, Macs, and mainframes with no visual indication of which system it actually is until you access it. Therefore, he has spent most time physically typing and straightening out each system one-by-one (with invaluable and required assistance from ShinRa technicians) before he could even begin the wireless upgrade process. Finally, a week after beginning his task, he is almost done. In fact, the last system that needs to be protected is the very computer that controls the digitizing laser itself. After the incident with CHIEF using the laser to pull a Grid Tank into Userspace, it didn't take much convincing to put protective measures on that system as well.

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' Rufus understood that a selfawre program whose function was security could set up a system that could very well make any human hacker's life pretty darn misrable and that's why he'd asked for such. It wasn't something unresonable he wasn't asking Tron to do something against his eithics or hurt anyone after all and he could have tried to chartge more. Either way the upfrade seems to be under way with one of the Shinra IT guys watching TRON with more than a ittle bit of awe at this point. "Damn you really are like they say you are." The man comments as he adjusts his glasses again.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON has only paused in his work long enough for the work-day cycle to circle back around again, unwilling to work without a ShinRa technician to supervise and give him a hand. His outfit looks a bit worn and dusty yet not terribly disheveled even considering he hasn't changed his clothes since he arrived, but his expression is weary and his brown eyes are noticeably tired. He smiles wanly to the tech as they make their way into the lab where the ShinRa setup for the laser has been installed. "I wouldn't have even gotten this far without your assistance." He twirls his black chakram Disc between his black-gloved fingers absent-mindedly. "These systems are... very diverse. Very different. I'm running on sole..." He struggles for a moment to find the right word: "...instinct? I suppose the term is close enough." He does not move towards the computer, instead circling around the digitizing laser itself while studying it intently. The last time he had seen it so closely, it was only once in that initial moment of passing deep in Flynn's Arcade--when he'd first arrived in Manhattan. Casual observation doesn't trigger any differences to how he last remembered its appearance, so that helps immensely... He nods slowly to himself as if satisfied, then turns his full attention to the computer itself. "This has... changed, from what I last remember. Did ShinRa alter the computer once they obtained custody from LEXUS?"

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man says "Hey it's a living and damn I learned a few things. You got more of a hand for it than some of the other employees and eh you know what you know." He pauses for a moment "No we didn't want to mess with it, we looked at copies of the data sure but we didn't do anything to screw with it. A system like this is way too Valuable to do anything direct on and LEXUS...I heard about that thing. Sounds like omething you need to blast with the Junon canon several times."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON looks down at his chakram Disc, his expression seeming troubled from the praise coming from a true User of all things. "I am just a Security Program." This is most likely a line that has been stated throughout the week. He taps on the glass-like top of the computer terminal with a fingertip, the upper half becoming akin to a monitor while the lower half took the look of a green-lined keyboard. "I see. Perhaps I am being... overly concerned?" He types a command onto the keyboard requesting access to the operating system, finding the User method less jarring to his own system than trying to wirelessly activate it remotely. However, the cursor blinks once... twice... then the entire screen freezes in pixelated green, like a frozen Matrix screen. "What?" TRON stares down at the screen, typing futilely at a few keys that have also become less distinct and quite pixelated. "Sir, has this happened before?"

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The Man seems to be a bit not angry but a bit well? Confusion he's not getting the program thing he gets TRON is not a human but it's hard to grasp when your basically a victem of having no directives at birth. "Hey your more adept at this than I am an I went to school for this." he pause at the glitch for a moment "Oh hell that don't look good, that doesn't look good at all. Looks like we got some sort of bad software conflict..."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON steps back from the computer and lifts his Disc, holding it flat on the palm of his hand as if holding a plate. "Let me see--" His eyes flare with bluish-white light and images suddenly appear over the Disc, like a projector showing off a slideshow too fast to make out visually. Almost immediately he recoils, almost dropping the Disc even as he curls in on himself for a moment with a sharp grunt of... pain? What the heck /WAS/ that? It felt like he KNOWS... but he can't access...? Why?! No, don't focus on that right now. There's a job at hand. He shakes his head harshly and almost visibly forces himself to straighten up, his eyes completely lost in white light. "Nngh... The system's completely frozen. I can't..." He shakes his head. No use explaining it. "There's another... operating system installed.... Should be fine. Can you... reset the computer's power... boot up the secondary operating system?"

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man looks over at Tron he wonmders wha tis going on and he looks over at it. "WAit there's two? Ya I can try to do so." The man notes "This could explain it." hte man heads ove to reboot the manchine manually and gets to work on doing so. "Code from two different worlds we're lucky both are use binary at the very least." The man is unaware someone in R&D is being stupid and angering something that could cleave though anything short of the TURKs or SOLIDER without skipping a beat. So he works in blissful ignorance "That should do it." he punches in a few more commands as the machine boots up.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON shakes his head firmly again, still seeming a little unstable on his feet but by-and-large recovered from the shock. "Yes, at least there is that." He waits for the computer to finish rebooting, then moves to stand in front of the computer. He taps a command, experimentally testing how much information it already has, and it almost immediately scrolls a small list without so much as a flicker of green light. Very new, not a lot of data... there should be enough room. "It looks like the problem is localized to the primary operating system," TRON muses to the technician. "I'll attempt a data transfer from the primary OS to the secondary and remove the frozen OS from the system, then proceed with installation of the protective measures into the system." He kneels, testing an area that looks like it's been battle-damaged, and plugs a device into the side of the computer. This should not be alarming, as he has plugged in this device on other computers as well to assist in the various prior system updates--especially at the end of a long day. "Alright." He stands up and lifts his Disc once more. "Beginning data transfer... now." Images appear over the Disc, flickering from one snapshot to the next too fast for the eye to follow. The screen on the top surface of the computer scrolls rapidly as each file is pulled from the frozen primary OS into the newer secondary OS, mirroring the visuals above TRON's Disc.

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man nods and lets Tron doe he his thing's going to get another mug of coffee which is something fairly major he needs as this has been a long haul. "Least this jobs kept me away from R&D all week I owe you a drink for that. Some real crazies down there. Genius sure but wacked." The man notes as he drinks at his copy watching pausing looking at Tron for a moment. "It going all right for ya TRON?" The man notes stll he's got to wonder if this guy is a program then wait are some of his creations doing things when he's not looking?

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods distractedly, his gaze apparently pinned on the images but the irises and pupils of his eyes completely obstructed by the white light making his eyes more like a robot's optics. "The process is running smoothly." His voice is noteably without inflection, so much processing power devoted to the action at hand, but proves to not be a distraction from conversation. "I will gladly take that drink. Any drink." A thin smile, honest but quite tired, seems to alleviate some of his stoic non-expressiveness. "Any suggestions, sir?" Meanwhile, the screen continues to scroll as the files continue to be transferred, only for the images to suddenly disappear as the last line of the screen reads, 'transfer complete. xxxx files transferred'. TRON doesn't even pause, reaching over to the digital keyboard to type a command that quite clearly purges the frozen operating system from the computer. "Initializing system protective measures..." He closes his eyes and quite clearly focuses, "...now." The monitor scrolls again, faster than before, as the system is thoroughly cleaned and restructured to fully integrate the copied data into the operating system. At the same time, the groundwork for the defense protocols are also integrated. It's a process the technician has been witness to time and time again throughout the week, and there is no visible change from what has happened before.

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man thinks for a moment and drains the rest of his coffee and he says "Right, I know a few good bars out of town if you want." He has no idea TRON may have been too uit but it's a good one that gets one out of Goug right? Eithe way the man things 'We'llg et something when we get there." He watches Ton do his thing and hopefully fixed the damaged operating system and finish up everything else. "Well this is the last one and then contacts done. This should hopefully shore us up pretty good." With Murasame and Xanantos out there is a darn good reason Rufus made this deal. He darn well knows that those two might be after things he'd not want to share.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON falls relatively silent again, his closed eyes twitching somewhat as if reading something scrolling behind his eyelids. "I would hope so." It's why he's here, right? He knows little about ShinRa's practices, but if they employ decent people like this technician, they can't be all bad. Right? Oh, if only you knew. Installing the system protective measures is remarkably fast once the rest of the system is set to right, and the text on the monitor half of the screen wipes all text and replaces it with a familiar emblem--a circle with a Tetris-like 'T' in the center. "Done." He lowers his Disk, slipping it under his shirt to reconnect to the hidden spindle on his back, and releases a long sigh as he taps the power off for the computer. "Let me know if there are any issues, but there should be no disruptions to any of your company's operations." He removes the device and tucks it back into a pocket, pushing his glasses up slightly as he rubs the bridge of his nose with pinched fingertips. "At this point, my part in the contract is complete, and all I need is that promised data... then I could really use that drink." He grins slightly. "Thank you for your help, sir. As cliche as it sounds, I honestly could not complete this job without it."

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man yawns a bit "Been a long haul least the boss man will be happy with this and his son. Always good in my book there." Well most of the rank and file are not bad people the problem is the people up top. Eithe way the guy looks back to Tron "I'll keep you posted if anythign comes up. Right I'll go get the data." He shuffles off for a few moments likely recovering the dataq from a safe. He goes to confirm the last one is done. "Hey no problem. Here's the data you wanted. Lets get that drink. I actually got some time off coming after this. I think I'll hit up Costa Del Sol."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON accepts the disc from the technician and carefully stores it in a seperate pocket. He'll peruse it later to make sure everything is there--though he has no reason to believe it wouldn't be. But just to satisfy Master Control, if nothing else. He'll also check the OS he removed from the original system into the device, try to figure out what caused it to freeze like that... But that will come later. He's too worn out to concern himself with that right now. "Sounds good to me. I haven't been to this 'Costa Del Sol' before, and it seems this is a whole week of new experiences." He straightens his clothing slightly, trying to restore a bit of its original appearance so he doesn't seem too disheveled. "I'll follow your lead."

Digital Diplomacy

2013-06-22T02:11:38Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/05/19
|Location=Goug - Shinra HQ
|Synopsis=TRON needs the original digitizing laser and computer back in order to free Deelel from Datapoint Security custody. Problem is, the original system is in ShinRa custody...
|Cast of Characters=TRON, Rufus Shinra
|Tinyplot=TRON Train
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus had been busy, while not a major player he had made some deals with Souji, partilly to help move the Shinra forward to recovery paritally to keep an eye on him as the young man was abitious as he was. He also had adept followers. Rufus was watching but he could bide his time after all the more noise one made the more trouble they got after all. Rufus had been suprised about the request for a meeting from one TRON, the R&D department had long been going over Reno's suprised capture from the virus LEXUS and later working with one native of the word it connected to. It was a simple arrangement that had lead to some improvement in their own computer technolgoy as the world it came from did somethings the ShinRa had never thought of. He's waiting at his massive desk on the top floor of the Shinra building as Tron has been shown his way in. TRON wold have seen both SOLIDERs and Shinra Troopers here or there, never too visably heavy but it was clear the Shinra didn't take chances when it came to security. He'd been shown in promptly by the receptionist and now Rufus awaits.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON had set up an appointment to meet with Rufus Shinra a few days prior, after receiving word that Deelel had been captured by DPS. He had taken the opportunity to grab a new set of clothing that is far nicer than anything he currently owns, and somehow managed to find his way here. Not that it's difficult to find once you get close enough, but there's much of the World of Ruin that's difficult to traverse by Light Cycle. As it is, he is here on time and moves to the elevator as directed without drawing attention to himself nor seeming bothered by the security presence. He is wearing a nice navy-blue business suit with a white shirt and a blue tie, glasses on his face and hair... well, it's not slicked down or back, but it is at least neat. The only thing that seems 'off' about him is his stiff gait and the fact he is wearing black leather gloves over his hands for some reason. He nods to the receptionist and enters Rufus' office, pausing in the middle of the room to bow his head to the CEO of ShinRa. "Mr. Shinra, I am TRON. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra is looking at TRON as he enters paying attention to the man as he enters. "It was not a problem, though I must confess some suprise about it." The Program who had made an arrganment with the Shinra for contuhned access to the hardware they'd taken from LEXUS had been captured by DPS an secirtty group in Traverse Town. He'd got the basics but wished to know more. "Give the nature of the situation you wish access to the laser which we removed from LEXUS' control and our assoiate has got herself intoa good deal of trouble it seems."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods once. "I will explain what I can, sir." He takes a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from Rufus and interlaces his fingers in front of him. "Deelel became suspicious of the activity of one Datapoint Security, the enforcement arm of Traverse Town's current mayor who originated from the same world as Deelel and myself. She infiltrated their base on her own, having told none others of her plans, and was caught by SARGON's forces accordingly." He frowns. "I myself did not hear about this until one of SARGON's enforcers contacted me. He stated that Datapoint Security will release Deelel should they receive data pertaining to the digitizing laser. This, admittedly, aligns with my own goal of restoring the laser to its rightful place in Manhattan--specifically, Flynn's Arcade." He leans back in his chair slightly, not enough to indicate relaxation but certainly an attempt to look less tense. Worry is clear on his face, both due to the situation and for Deelel's safety itself. "I am not here to make demands of you nor your company. I simply want to make matters right."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra listens for a long moment, this sounded like certain behaviours he'd observed in many powerful wandering people from the various worlds that make up the World of Ruin it was curious and also telling too. He also senses a chance to make some gains of him own. "So your friend is in trouble with SARGON. With SARGON wanting the laser which we aquired it's become quite the valuable asset to our resarch division. Well the data of the plans to build it and you wish your own copy while being able to free your friend? I can't give away something for nothing. Mr. Tron..."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods slowly, trying to not look discouraged and only partially succeeding. The aftereffect is the worried expression deeping noticeably. "I understand." A less-than-charitable thought crosses his mind. Why do Users always look for some sort of personal gain out of someone else's problems instead of simply doing the right thing? Then again, are Programs really that much different? He spreads his arms apart, the forearms resting on the armrests of his chair with palms upraised. "If you cannot part with the laser itself, I can study blueprints and schematics instead. I would also only need one copy. The data within the computer itself is equally important, as the laser won't function without it, and I would need only one copy of that as well." He emits a low sigh, though there are a few indications that it is more habitual than out of some biological necessity. "If you are seeking repayment, I do not know what it is you would require."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra is a businessman and understanding he's got TRON in a sticky situation but isn't planning to run the Program too hard. "I do not intend ask for two much. You are much like Deelel and others of your kind." Humm Tron's asking for plans and copies of data he can live iwth this. "Might I ask what your function is?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON tilts his head faintly, a small measure of distrust in his brown eyes, but not nearly at the point of hostility. If anything, it's just a guarded defensive look too benign to really be serious. "I am a Security Program. I defend my assigned area and those in it, neutralizing threats that would destabilize the system."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra humms and nods, "Humm would you be able to upgrade some of our own systerms security or would that not be possible for you to do. It would be suitable work for the things you are asking of me and nothing that would be unfair."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON's brow furrows in thought. Upgrade the security of this company's computer system? He hasn't tried doing that in months, ever since he fixed VALKYRI's single computer. He's still not entirely sure how he's even able to do that, come to think of it. "I believe it is possible, yes. I have done such a thing before." He glances around briefly. "Is there a centralized computer I can made upgrades to, or will I need to go to individual units?"

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra says "Some are centralized some are not. It's best to not to keep everything in one place." Given the nature of the worlds addec security would be a hting also entities like LEXUS and others out there. "I suspect you'll have more success than our suriving inhouse programmers have had." And like hell he's letting Hojo near certain things. Hojo was useful but he also knew how dangerous the man was. "The primary network would be the main concern as well as several stand alone units thankfully those are few and are here in the tower. So then we have ourselves a deal, you upgrade our security measure and you get the data you require."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods thoughtfully. Not /easy/ by any means, but what is? This is a clear 'take-it-or-leave-it', end of negotiations, and he doesn't have the luxury of leaving it. Besides, there's no logical reason to refuse the offer. "So be it." He rises from his chair a little stiffly, but not harshly. If anything, it's more like he'd been sitting a bit too long. "Then there is no time like the present." He readjusts his cuffs in apparent almost-mechanical habit due to the crisp movements. "If it could arranged for someone to lead me to where I need to go, I will see what I can do immediately."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra nods once "Very well then i'll call for the IT department so you can get started on the job. It has been a pleasure doing business with you Mr. TRON." ALl things considered Rufus request was not unresonable all things considered and nothing that would be against TRON's ethics. Ether way the deal is cast the formal contract will be done up and he shall call for the IT head to meet TRON at another part of the tower.

...Arcade Is

2013-06-22T02:10:01Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/06/21 |Location=Flynn's Arcade |Synopsis=Continues directly after Home Is Where The... After everything calms down, TRON and Deelel fin..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/06/21
|Location=Flynn's Arcade
|Synopsis=Continues directly after [[Home Is Where The...]]

After everything calms down, TRON and Deelel finally get some information out of the mysterious Program who wears TRON's suit.
|Cast of Characters=Deelel, TRON, Beck (Aka: Renegade)
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' A few hours have passed since LEXUS' attack. The damage to the building itself isn't too bad, the cut power main notwithstanding. Broken windows have been boarded with plywood, and the fire was dealt with early on thanks to Avira's ice magic. Police have taken away the main perpetrators--the 'scruffy men' who damaged the property outright--and medical personnel have taken care of the wounded. Only after everything has been dealt with and repairs have been lined up does TRON return to the upper level of the arcade, where he has left the mysterious not-TRON while he has dealt with the attack's fallout. He still shows signs of damage, the long and deep burn still in the left side of his back. He is nursing a potion, though, so it has not been completely ignored. "Everyone alright here?" He asks, more a generalized question out of habit than individual concern for the moment.

:'''[[Renegade]] has posed:''' Not-TRON is still out cold on the couch. He hasn't really moved an inch since he was laid up here. Though the damage from LEXUS was still very present. Deep gashes in his body, though they were healing. Slowly. Virus' always left a nasty mark on any program. The fact he probably wasn't infected is maybe a state of his sheer will, if anything else. Those were some nasty hits he did take. Yet though silent for a moment, as TRON speaks up. The mystery program's hand twitches gently to the sound of TRON's voice. He mutters something that is hard to make out, before he moves his finger tips again. So apparently, he was still alive!

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel has been working on the clean up after everyone's injuries were tended too she was looking a bit frazzled after all the chaos that has happened and she's been working pretty hard. There's a few bits of older grid tech here mostly Deelel's artist tools than anything. Technology that is kinda of out of place in this world however she's now flopped out in one part of the room and looking up over at TRON. "Alive, and thankful we didn't lose anyone protecting the server. OR the server it self." She pauses for a moment as she sees the other !TRON move. "Seems he's coming too."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods slowly to Deelel. "Yes." He tosses away the potion carelessly and rolls his shoulders experimentally. The sound of grinding broken glass meets any movement of his left shoulderblade, so he gives up trying to move it further. "The laser is fried. Likely overloaded when our newfound guest came through. It'll take time to repair... or rebuild outright." He takes a seat, letting his form shift back to his black suit with only the occasional dot-and-dash bluish-white light for 'program lines'. He leans forwards, resting his forearms on his thighs and leaning heavily against them, and focuses solely on the white doppelganger as signs of life ensue. At this point, he simply falls silent and waits. His expression is weary, a little pained, but otherwise rather neutral.

:'''[[Renegade]] has posed:''' The doppelganger's hand twitches gently, before he at least seems to stir and slowly roll to his side, placing his hand up to his helm. "..frag me.." He says softly. "..where.." He suddenly realizes he still isn't in Kansas and looks around the room. "Huh?" He suddenly goes to sit up and flops back on the couch curling up in pain. "..Nrrh. Not a smart idea." He reminds himself as he tries to force himself to relax. He stays quiet for a moment. Letting his body relax and his mind sort itself out. "..Right.. this is.. that strange building.. the virus.. those.." whatever they were. TRON 2.0 tries once more to sit up. This time, far more slowly as he leans his back carefully against the sofa. Then at last the helmet pulls back and down revealing the young program's face behind the helm. Those tired brown eyes, dark brown hair with slightly messy bangs off to one side. He looks over at TRON and seems to stare at him for a long moment, before he looks at Deelel. Then slowly back at TRON. "..I still can't believe.. its you." He says softly. "..yet.. is it really?" He then frowns softly, as realization crosses his mind. No. No this is not TRON, at least-- its not his TRON. "..maybe.. I.." The young program then places his hand up to his forehead as he sits forward a bit. "..I owe you some explanations.. don't I?"

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "True enough we'll do what we can on that. I'm just thankful we drove off LEXUS." She slumps where she is looking at the other program as he starts to wake up. "Hopefully he won't...." She pauses tilting her head for a moment. "Greetings program." She looks sympathetically at the other TRON for a moment "It would be nice but first how about we introduce ourselves. I'm Deelel a multimedia program." She smiles a little bit and then tilts her head again.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON doesn't move. Doesn't even respond as this doppleganger Program sorts through the available data. His expression does change somewhat, but only his dark brown eyes holding a deep sorrow only he would be able to explain if he wished--which he doesn't. There is no recognition whatsoever to the newcomer even after the helm disappears. "Yes... you do," he replies back simply. "And, as Deelel said, a name would be nice as well." He refuses to call this newcomer 'TRON', no matter what he may claim.

:'''[[Renegade]] has posed:''' The Program looks over to Deelel, then over to TRON. His brows furrow as he stares at TRON, as if almost wanting something to be said. A reaction of some kind. Yet he knows that wont come. It can't come. For whatever reason, he knows deep down, that-- isn't the same TRON. There are things that just are not right. Yet-- they look /so/ much alike. So how could he /NOT/ be TRON? The mystery program slowly clasps his hands together, ignoring the pain from the wounds. He then looks up at Deelel once more with his brown eyes before he gives a nod of his head. "..well.. depending on how you saw me.. would depend on what I would be called. Like this, where I come from.. I am known as the Renegade by.. CLU's forces.. and those of the Grid.. I am known as TRON." The Renegade then frowns a little. "Though thanks to some.. problems, the reputation has become a bit.. tarnished." He then goes to rest his forehead against his thumbs. He gently taps his head before he at last reaches back behind him to remove his disc. He holds the disc in his hands. "I fight to free the Grid from CLU's rule. He is enslaving programs under his command and taking away our freedoms. He wants to make the.. perfect.. system. One free of all imperfection and disorder." He doesn't go into more detail beyond that. The Renegade then slides the top part of the disc armor, until it unlocks. He lays the one half carefully beside him, showing the other side. When he removes the white disc. The other disc becomes black, like a normal Program's disc. His white body suit starts to shift to a black one and the whole circuit lines now change. "But-- when I am not fighting CLU... well.." He tries to smile, but finds himself only frowning and looking away. "Then I am just Beck. A mechanic.. and not even the best either, but I have gained some skills thanks to my other occupation."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel looks at the other program for a moment and pauses for a moment and seems to blink in confusing as she hears the name CLU." She listens and thinks some more going through her own memories as she recalls somethings she's forgotten she listens for a moment. CLU she knows that name but this isn't adding up with what she remembers. She frowns now and she tilts her head for a moment and says "It seems then my stand again LEXUS alone before was more than worth it."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON's eyebrows furrow at mention of this 'CLU'. Something deep in his processor triggers, his hidden white Disc whirring softly, and he shakes his head as he regulates that datastream to the background. The foreign data has struck again, and he's in no mood to deal with it. "You are not TRON," he says quietly, standing up and walking around the room, staying seperate from the other two Programs, "so Beck you will be." There's something in the way he says that which indicates the topic is not up for debate. He lifts his right hand to rub at the back of his head, pausing for a time to stare out over the Arcade at the lower level. "You've been pulled into a User world, Beck, specifically one called 'Manhattan'. This building is Flynn's Arcade--the real one, not the digital representation of it." He doesn't have to assume that's how it was in the Other Grid like it was in his own--he just knows.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck raises an eye brow and smirks softly as TRON seems to put his foot down on the subject of what his name will be. "..Man.. you still talk like.." He chuckles softly and gives a faint nod. Rubbing his own disc gently in his hands. Beck then looks over to Deelel. "So you fought him alone before? That had to be something else." The young program then looks back at TRON as he goes to explain stuff. He raises an eye brow. "..wait.. user world? Manhattan?" He seems very confused suddenly. "...I.. don't think I fully understand, but... alright." Beck then looks at the white disc, then at TRON. "But there is something you will need to understand. In my home, when I am in your.." Is your the right term for this? May as well be. "..your suit. I am /you/. They don't know I am Beck. If they found out I was, they would not only hunt me down, but they would derez everyone I know to /get/ to me." "So I don't mind you calling me Beck outside of home, but if anyone comes from out of there. They can't hear you calling me that.. I mean.. haha.. if they saw you.. they would ki..ki..kill you." He stutters on that one part as he bites gently down on his teeth for a moment in thought. "I-- I should get back. Zed and Mara are going to have my neck as is." Sadly Beck didn't get the memo on the laser, as he goes to try and stand up. Then winces in pain before he plops back down.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel shivers. "It didn't end well I would have been voxels id he hadn't plans for me. I god lucky with someone else aquiring me ebfore that happened." She looks as TRON explains some imporant things. SO she doesn't "Users, the world where Flynn came from orginally." Deelel seems concerned at this and she blinsk confused for a moment "I hate to say this the laser's been damaged we need to see what is broken and repair it..."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON's hands clench suddenly at his sides. "I perhaps talk like 'him' because I /am/ 'him'." He bites out almost every word, but doesn't look at either Program. In fact, he seems to be keeping his back towards them on purpose. This distinction between himself and some nebulous 'other TRON' is grinding and is trying to pull up data he really doesn't want to face right now. "And if you think I will derezz your cover so easily, perhaps you--" He cuts himself off, visibly stuffing back something that, if said, would be irreversable. Instead, he shifts gears to the next concern. "Deelel's right. Your arrival here downright fried it, possibly beyond repair. For now, until it's fixed or rebuilt, you're stuck here."

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck then goes to stand up officially now. Ignoring the pain and picking up the other disc piece. "I what?" Beck states with his eyes narrowing. "Don't know you?" He frowns a little and shakes his head. "..and yes.. you are him. You are allot like him.. Even to the fact of keeping your back turned toward the group who cares about you so they don't have to see your face." "Mostly because you don't want questions asked right now, cause your trying to seek the answers yourself." Beck then ponders what to do with the two halves in his hand. He fiddles with it a bit, but doesn't try to fully reconnect them. He then looks over to Deelel as she also echoes the same thing as TRON. "Like I said. I am a mechanic. How hard can this thing be to fix compared to a Grid Tank or a Light jet." He then smiles. "I bet I can get It done in no time." He then gives Deelel a bit of a playful wink. However his brown eyes then go to seek TRON's reflection in the glass. "TRON," He says calmly. "I know you don't know me.. and.. you probably don't trust me either.. but.. I promise you, just as I always have. I wont let you down." He then pauses. "..and that goes for trust as well."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel cinges if Deelel knew anything about the other TRON it was lost in jumble of her memories. "A mechanic really?! Given how users build things you'd be suprised. Durable often but ... it's clunky." She makes a bit of a face and she grins a little more more at BEck now for a moment. "You did help against LEXUS that counts for a bit. As for a mechanic huh? My light cycle could use a look. It's an old model, really old and I been kinda hard on it..." She looks to TRON for a moment nodding what else can she do there.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON doesn't respond to Beck immediately, his shoulders twitching beneath his silver Disc as each sentence Beck states in retort hits bullseyes each and every time. Yes, this Program really did know the 'other TRON', and there doesn't seem to be many differences at all. He avoids confirming or denying Beck's insights, instead keeping conversational focus on the laser itself. "Your tools may not work in the User world exactly as they did in your Grid. Our Light Cycles couldn't rez properly until we had another Program recalibrate them. You may need to make modifications accordingly." He would show Beck the baton to prove his point, but it's all he can do to stay where he is. Deelel's enthusiasm saves him from needing to do so, anyways. He catches Beck's gaze reflecting off of the glass in front of him, sees the honesty, and his chin dips slightly as his own gaze lowers away from the reflection. The Security Program seems to be more sorrowful than actually angry, looking all the world like the rug's been pulled out from under him. "I believe you," he allows quietly, and that is all he says on the matter. He turns back towards the doors leading into the main room. "Feel free to stay up here and rest as long as you like. If you /do/ decide to look at Deelel's Light Cycle, I would strongly advise you to do so /outside/." He allows the briefest of smirks on his face as he glances back at them. "Game Light Cycles are notoriously tempermental, after all." And with that, he leaves the loft and disappears into the crowds of game stations on the main floor.

:'''[[Beck]] has posed:''' Beck glances over to Deelel as she talks about an old light bike. He tilts his head a bit thinking on that. "How about after I fix the this laser. Then I can see about your bike, alright?" He did have a ton of questions he himself wanted to ask but he can feel the effects of the fight starting to pull on him again and he sways a little. He really should just-- lay back down, honestly. He does study what reflection he can see in TRON's face and hrms softly. Once TRON is done he gives a gentle nod of his head and then flops back on the couch with one leg propped up on top of the couch itself and his other ankle finding itself resting on the arm of the couch. "..But yeah.. laser first-- then bike. Unless laser drives me crazy, then bike first." he says with a smirk, before keeping the one half close and carefully hooking the half disc back on. He have to do something about that later. For now however. He seems to be moving himself to get some shut eye.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel Deelel says "Yes doing so in here this is a living space and a bad idea to do so. We're already fixing it up from the attack." She tilts her heads a little bit and looks to Beck. "Sounds like a plan the bike will hold a little bit longer. If you need energy let either us us know it's just a bit strange." She gets up and stretchers a little and she looks over to TRON. "I'll keep Beck out of trouble as best I can." She looks back TRON, "Yes they are they are not like ... the later models at all. Well thank you for your help I'm going to get some energy myself..."

Computer Shopping

2013-06-22T02:07:03Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/06/19 |Location=Southern Manhattan |Synopsis=In order to utilize the digitizing laser, TRON and Deelel need to rebuild a computer to run the s..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/06/19
|Location=Southern Manhattan
|Synopsis=In order to utilize the digitizing laser, TRON and Deelel need to rebuild a computer to run the software and Avira joins them on their search for parts. The irony of Programs building a computer is not lost on anyone.
|Cast of Characters=Avira, Deelel, TRON
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' You can find almost anything in Southern Manhattan, everything from convenience stores to specialty shops. There has been plenty of time to figure out where everything happens to be, and one store in particular is of great interest. A computer store. Though the digitizing laser is almost complete (with no small amounts of error involved), there needs to be a computer system in place to command it. So here they are, walking into a little store of computer parts and pieces with nothing but a generalized idea. 'Alan' is in his standard clothing, tugging at his hands nervously as if he was readjusting actual leather gloves. Dealing with anything User-side is nerve-wracking for him as it is, but to build a computer system from the outside?

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel has found it's a good source of parts and the like and here Deelel is along side 'Alan', clothing is not too bad but it's more circuit lines visible on her skin which she just tells people are tattoos anyway here she is and she's looking over at TRON she's also just about as nervous they are ... doing something no Basic has ever done before. Even with her affinity for machines it's kinda left her a bit cowed as she keeps up with her friend looking for parts as well, she thankfully had the sense to make up a list.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan is well-aware of what they are here for, and he has a ballpark estimate of what they need based on some papers he'd found in Kevin Flynn's office. But finding the right actual items... well, that's going to be fun. "Funny how we revere technology but know so little about it," he comments over to Deelel, a self-depreciating smirk on his face. He picks up a few items here-and-there, eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses. "What is the term... to boldly go where none have gone before?"

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "It's true but given out situation." She at least has made enough money busting heartless over the last year or so to cover anything that Alan might be short on a she stats hunting for more parts. "It is...then again. We'd never had access to it in this way before. They don't even know, what they do when they do this." Alan knows and she knows. They are flat out creating an entire world and it's still a bit humbling to think about really. "I think that's the term yes. I don't think we should cut any corners on hardware quality either." Seriously Basics were going to live on this thing she wasn't about to ahem cheap out on parts. Seriously Users had no idea what cutting corners did.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan nods. If his suspicions are right about the extra data he took from Shinra and have kept safe since... Well. They won't recreate a whole new world. They'll restore an existing one. Same principle as restoring a Userspace World Shard, but so completely different. "Agreed, gather what you can. Just remember: we don't need any software or an operating system," he reminds Deelel. Redundant, perhaps, but his experiences with the original computer system (still at ShinRa) have proven that an Operating System conflict will do no good whatsoever. "I'll be over at the monitors and cases." He slips away to the computer screens and other input devices, secretly bemoaning the fact they couldn't get back the original computer with its nice touch-screen and all.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel looks back to Alan for a moment "I understand, don't worry we already got the software we need right it's just the hardware. Still some of the parts we need humm i'm going to go check down this isle." It seems Shinra had not master the art of the dual boot it seems. "I'll be checking for the RAM and hard drive." She's going to go for the best they have, ya no cheeping out here tonight.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "Hey guys. Need some help?" A familiar voice says from the other side of the asile. A few seconds later, Avira peeks around the corner. "I was in town, decided to track you down." She steps around the corner fully and reveals that...she is in fact dressed in Manhattan clothing. Were it not for her Spine, which is still strapped to the small of her back, and her scars, she'd fit in perfectly. "How goes the rebuilding?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan wanders through his chosen area, shaking his head at the sheer variety of parts and pieces at their disposal. Just how many different types of keyboards or mice do people /need/, anyways? He will never understand Users. At least it isn't so critically important. Not like RAM or a CPU. He grabs a combo-pack that satisfies both and moves on, wandering along the monitors. At least Deelel has a set list of what is needed--nice hard data. He jumps slightly at Avira's sudden appearance, then smiles slightly. "It is good to see you again, Avira. Yes, help would be very welcome." He nods slightly, eyes half-closing in thought seperate from the current conversation. "Rebuilding is going well. Cleaning the building is complete, so we're working on the basement now. This requires a computer, however..." His voice trails off as he glances ruefully over at the monitors. "...And it is very odd to be on the outside doing this."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel can get at least the need for ascetics after all art is kinda of her thing she wouldn't be here if Users were not that way after all. She's checking over the drives and thinks she finds s suitable one checking it over yes she's not going to want to get a stinker. She pauses as she hears Avira enter and there's a grin on her face as she moves to join up with Alan and Avira. "You are very much welcome and it's about as Alan said. We also likely need to get some new games to keep with things as some of the old units are not working and honestly we need to ... make sure we can get people interested for the modern stuff as well. As for help please, it would be welcome and ... I'm going to be honest. This is kind of ... creepy for us to be doing this."

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira puts a hand to her mouth as she starts laughing at the thought. Programs shopping for computers! "Well, in a way, you are sort of buying your own house, aren't you? You get to control the specs in this case where before you didn't have the choice." She clasps her hands behind her back and follows after the two. "New games, huh? Maybe I can make a suggestion or two. Gaming really wasn't my thing though."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' The irony is not lost on Alan, though he only chuckles in reply. "Yes, I suppose you're right. It's not so daunting when explained like that." He picks up an average-sized monitor and looks it over like a kid would look at a wrapped present at Christmas. "I just wish to know what has happened to our homes." The plural is clearly not a mistake, though the significance of the distinction isn't apparent. "This computer would get us one step closer..." He shakes his head and shifts the monitor onto his shoulder. "Avira, have you noticed anything... odd... with Maira as of late? She gave us a hand cleaning for a bit, but ran away. She seemed... distressed."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "I'd be happy to hear it, Avira." She pauses sets the hard drives box down. "I also found one that involves music. If I only get to pick one game that we add Alan I want that to be the one I pick." DDR, your all doomed. Deelel will likely keep slipping new songs into it. "Perhaps but Avria I think you need to see it to fully understand. I would not have been able to understand your world without seeing something like the sun? That was an alien concept to me." She pauses spying a program box on a shelf starts giggling and picks it up. The laughing stops however as TRON brings up Maira. "She doesn't seem to be doing so well, no. She was quite ... steamed about something." She then comes up aside Avira and keeps the box just out of sight, what is she up to with that?

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira beams, happy to make this task less imposing on TRON in some way. It's also kind of adorable, she notices, just how excited the security program is getting over the monitors. Granted, there are plenty of humans that do the same. Then, a topic is brought up that she wasn't expecting to hear here. Though in reviewing the last few moments on the VALKYRI channel, she discovers why. "Yeah, yeah I have. It's stress, Alan. Stress and a few other things. You know how this whole thing with her dad and the princess of Heart and Dark Knight deal is? It's a lot of weight on her shoulders." Avira closes her eyes, knowing exactly what it's all like. Of course, there was also the matter of Angantyr, but Maira had confided that to her privately. She's not sure it's something she wanted to spread-or should spread without Maira's consent. "Is it possible for a human to enter your world..?" Avira asks curiously.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan nods in understanding at the topic of Maira. "I have heard a little about it, but it is... understandable." His voice drops slightly as a purely empathic tone softens his voice, able to relate on many levels. "I wish I could help, but I fear there is little I can do." He responds immediately at Avira's question, clearly without thinking: "Yes." He stops abruptly upon speaking that one word, a downright befuddled look on his face as his eyebrows knit together. It takes a few moments of almost visible processing, the pupils of his eyes glowing white in the meantime, before he speaks again. His voice takes a ponderous, rather cautious tone, as if he doesn't fully understand himself. "It seems... it has happened once before--a User being pulled into the Grid. Personally speaking, /I/," there is a very odd but quite intentional emphasis there, "have not known it to happen."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel frowns a little bit. "Wait the Dark Knight as in ... that warrior I faced some time ago?" She's still holding that program box behind he back, just what is she up to? She thinks for a moment on Avira's question. "I ... did find something in the laser room on our world's end the night I first arrived here. I think it was some sort of fruit? So with what TRON said it should be possible I admit...I can't of very many other people I'd want to have to be the first Users to see our home. Also we wouldn't have trouble with your name at all either see!" She holds up a copy of AVIRA anti viral by Avira. "Look Alan! See Avira is a totally normal name!"

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "I'm at a bit of a loss myself." Avira says quietly, "It's frustrating. I'm her best friend but I don't know how to help her." Which was the truth, even when it came to the Maira issue she hadn't explicitly mentioned. Realizing she'd been a little cavalier about her Grid/Program talk, Avira makes an apologetic face, "Interesting." she offers on the subject of humans on the Grid, but fails to follow up so TRON won't have to talk about this subject in "public." Her thoughts turn to DDR. "I'd actually give DDR a try if you put it in the arcade...uh..." Avira takes the antivirus box and looks at it. "....I had no idea this product existed." she says, embarassed. "It wasn't my intention to name myself after this!"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' Alan doesn't bother to correct Avira's misunderstanding as to his visible confusion and lets the topic drop. What is he supposed to say? 'Yeah, a User named Flynn hacked my code and uploaded all sorts of data that seem to originate from another TRON. I can sometimes randomly access this data without meaning to and sometimes I can't even tell which information is mine and which is this other's. Oh, by the way, Deelel and I originate from different Grids, so there just might be multiple Dataspace worlds just as there are Userspace ones.' No, some topics are best left alone. He peers at the box, blinking for a moment as the significance breaks through his thoughts, then he just starts laughing as he bends forwards at the waist. Never mind the fact that he's carrying a combo mouse-keyboard pack under one arm and a heavy monitor over the opposite shoulder with no apparent regard for their weight. It is a laugh of broken tension, a welcome escape from what ails him. "It seems you are destined to stick with us, Avira," he jokes to the VALKYRI leader, heading towards the checkout desk. "Let's get this stuff back to the arcade."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel says "It sounds like a plan we got a long night ahead of us. It should be worth it though, we got a lot of people counting on us or they won't ever wake up again." Deelel falls in with her friends it was time to get to work.

Informational Reboot

2013-06-22T02:04:33Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/06/07 |Location=Southern Manhattan |Synopsis=TRON refuses to let Deelel back into the Arcade until he's certain that he knows what Datapoint S..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/06/07
|Location=Southern Manhattan
|Synopsis=TRON refuses to let Deelel back into the Arcade until he's certain that he knows what Datapoint Security did to her. Her explanation gives him more data than he'd bargained for and confirms his deepest fears.
|Cast of Characters=Deelel, TRON
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' The Arcade has been locked up tight since Deelel's capture in Traverse Town. TRON had elected to not attempt fixing the place on his own, and he wanted to be sure none could trace /him/ back to /it/. It is a highly fragile thread of hope, restoring an arcade that has been closed for decades, but it is all the Programs have. HIS Programs. It also has not been unlocked or touched since then, not even after Deelel was freed. Once they had left Datapoint Security's base, TRON had allowed Deelel act on her newfound freedom only after making her promise that they would meet back up in Southern Manhattan once she has straightened matters out. He has been waiting here for a few days now, blending in with the crowds while leaning forwards against the fence around an area of Central Park, watching people and animals alike come and go. There are many things that have bothered him as of late, and the situation with Deelel has brought that directly to the forefront of his thoughts. No more whirling of gears. He intends to get answers from assumptions. Now. Today.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel had friends to tell she was all right, she had to also inform the Shard Seekers about that one of their own has likely joined the force of darkness. It was a good thing too as some people, well at least one was unaware of what happened on Shiki's trip. She knows she's got to talk TRON there's no hiding it, she knows just how badly she'd screwed up. She's also got some other thingsd to do as she makes for the point in the park where they were going to meet. She does like this place. Time to face the music as she holds up a hand to wave to Tron. Barring her outfit she really doesn't seem too out of palce, well barring the circuit lines which are normally mistaken for tattoos. Either way she's here. "So...yes. I know I got a lot of explaining to do and yes you don't need to tell me how disappiinted you are with me...I think I got that message already...."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON straightens up upon spotting Deelel's waving, his expression registering recognition but otherwise very neutral. As she speaks, however, he simply crosses his arms over his chest. "Perhaps so, but it goes deeper than that," he rumbles. His voice is almost flat, though with an edge that is barely sheathed. "You have breached my trust." He pauses just for a moment to let that sink in, then continues, "Now I have no idea what Master Control has done to you, or if he is capable of tracking you even now." He stiffly takes a seat on a bench and motions for Deelel to do the same. "So I need you to start from the beginning--starting with why you decided on such an action--and tell me /everything/ that has happened up to the time they released you."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel isn't going to be surprised if TRON wants to never have anything to do with her again after this. She just kinda slinks but she doesn't run at least. "I also have some things to explain as well. I had continued to grow suspicious of DPS behaviour with the several attacks where their turrets remained idle through out the city even when hostile actions were going on from a Shadow Lord. I thought I could sneak in check and get out without anyone being the wiser. I was wrong, they had laid a trap and lured me in. Which I fell for hook line and sinker. I didn't fight back as I couldn't take all the black guard at once. I was taken to a holding cell and kept there for most of my time there but it seems my earlier survival in the gaming pits had confused MCP given I'm not a security program nor a military one." She takes a deep breath "I was visited by CHIEF several times he seemed concerned enough about me to visit me and it comes down to it. It ... I was broken TRON." She frowns a little bit more. "As I said my survival bothered MCP to the point he spent a large amount of times ruining SIMs to see how I might have survived and should have been with my apparent specs against what he had in his archives. I should have died a long time before we even met." She grimaces more "He came to me with this and he's also been studying me and my disc. I'm not a few cycles old TRON, I'm several hundred and I'm not even from ENCOM OS. He'd made me a deal with the implications of my freedom if I cooperated with it. Or perhaps I was miss reading him." There are changes in how Deelel behaves, her body language falls in line a bit more with those of users and she's speaking more like one as well. "I accepted realizing I was very likely broken and given I figured I'd be derezzed sooner or later if I didn't play along. It turns out I'm ... old TRON, a lot older than I thought. I'd been running in a dubbed down state all my time in ENCOME. I'd been locked in a backwards compatibility mode, I'm not from ENCOM OS, I'm from another system." She pauses taking the disc of her back for a moment flipping it over in her hands while it's powered down. "I'm old tron as I said over three hundred cycles old to be exact. There's still a lot of my own memory to go over it's a lot to take in. It's still not all making sense to me yet but I was from a system that had more incoming with this city than ENCOM OS did. All they really did so far as I know was flip me back to what state I should have been in the first place and it was like my mind was no longer dubbed down, like it was before. It's akin to maybe? A user while they are a child and then when they are matured is the best way I can think." She moves to hand TRON the disc. "Here take it, look over the data as you wish. I haven't had a chance to process everything yet there's just been so much. It was inaccessible to me because of the bit rates it was encoded at was beyond that of the ENCOM OS. SO most of my life was just cut off and I was like a newly compiled basic. Funny isn't it? Least my directives always the same well there's too much data there for it to be a fake that much I do know Tron. There's way too much data on my disk for it to be a ruse or junkdata. Go take a look take the time you need but please don't good to far with it. I can't be parted from it for long, bad things will happen to me if I lose it. On my system one's disc was a part of each program, from the moment they were rezzed." She hands Tron the disc and waits now.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON listens carefully, clearly processing each and every word. But as the explanation progresses, his eyes glaze over as if staring beyond the horizon, unbidden images of his own playing in his vision. Data locked down due to not enough bandiwith... is that the significance of his white Disc? Not of his Grid... He stares at the offered Disc, uncomprehending, then accepts it and places it in the palm of his hand. "You... are like CHIEF, then..." His voice is dull, without life. "Then it is true... there /are/ other Grids... just as there are other Userspace worlds..." The images that flash above the Discs are too rapid for human sight to follow, snapshots of what TRON sees-- Only for the plainclothed Security Program to almost drop Deelel's Disc, clutching at his head as a faint whirr'ing sound emanates from somewhere on his back. He overrides the data access, halting the process before it can go any further... but the data pulled up from that locked white Disc matches Deelel's. Knowledge not his own. "I should have known..." He shakily offers Deelel's Disc back to her. "No recreational... Games... on my Grid... No media Programs either... Nothing fit, until now..." He looks downright stunned, planting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands in a substantially less tight grip.

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel listens to TRON and waits she knows he's got a lot to take in. She pauses for a moment She listens to TRON ahe speaks and she nods. "It looks like it TRON. Look I'm still sifting through my memories but ...." She trails off as TRON seems to be in a spot of trouble. She moves to TRON out of concern for him nbut sees that he's able to pull himself offer she takes the disc and nods to TRON. "I had no idea...either I didn't think much about it." She frowns but she does remeber something else. "I worked...at a place much like a club you'd find in this city." She shakes her head a little bit as if trying to clear it. "It's still coming back to me too. I'm sorry if it was a lot to take in I'm still making sense of it now too."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON sits still for a long time. Processing, evaluating, gauging... Enough. "I see." He sits up abruptly, sitting far too stiffly to be natural. "I detected no sign of actual tampering or repurposing in your code..." He closes his eyes, pushing up his glasses as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. "No lasting harm was done by your improvised infiltration, even if it left me with untold hardship. In fact... it has actually ended up helping us." He smiles wanly, a poor attempt at best. "The blueprints and protocols for the digitizing laser... I didn't give the sole copy to DPS, after all."

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel lets TRON recover but seems to be worried about him as she does come close she listens. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through and anyone else..." She pauses looking outright shocked at TRON's words. "Wait what helped...." She pauses for a moment then starts laughing. "You managed to pull one over on the big bad Master Control Program." She calms down. "...very well done. So we have a way ... home...? Or at least to your home."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON inhales, the breath uncertain at best. This whole revelation has shaken him to the core... but he is the leader of the resistance. He can't just exhibit emotions at a drop of the hat so wildly, he knows that. Never mind the fact that he is sure there is another... Later. At Deelel's laughter, though, he smiles a bit more honestly this time. "I wouldn't say that. After all, it was never specified how many copies could be made. Only that Master Control got one." He reaches over his shoulder and pats at the lump between his shoulderblades. "If nothing else, Program memory is a wonderous thing." He shakes his head at the question, though. "We have to get a new computer. Rebuild the laser from scratch. Upload the correct operating system and make sure everything /works/." The task is daunting, he must admit. "But before we do any of that... let's get the Arcade back up and running. Why bother restoring the basement when we can do the same to everything from roof to sub-floor?"

:'''[[Deelel]] has posed:''' Deelel notices TRON perk up a bit at her revalation "This way no one knows we have it. I can go looking for hardware to run it. Should be easy enough in Manhattan. The laser might take a bit of doing and I suggest we buy parts on different world as well. It's not going to be easy but we hace a chance and humm. Yes why not we could even reopen it. I know that one woman I met claimed she went to the arcade so there might be interest. It also be an source of income to keep us going." She unders user space means you need mummy after all. "So I guess we start by cleaning?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON chuckles softly. "Yes. We return to cleaning." He heaves himself up off of the bench and stretches, rolling his shoulders at the end and emitting a low huff. "Probably what little work we did before the recent fiasco has been undone by time... so might as well start at the beginning once again." No matter though. At least they even can.

Digital Diplomacy, Pt. 2

2013-06-22T01:58:29Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/05/29 |Location=Goug - Shinra HQ |Synopsis=After a long week or so of hard work, TRON reaches the last computer in ShinRa's network. Will tech..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/05/29
|Location=Goug - Shinra HQ
|Synopsis=After a long week or so of hard work, TRON reaches the last computer in ShinRa's network. Will technical difficulties keep him from getting the information he needs?
|Cast of Characters=Minerva, TRON
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' This has taken much longer than TRON had expected. The task given to him by Rufus Shinra was deceptively simple. Install protective measures on all of ShinRa's systems, and he will receive the data promised to him--data concerning the digitizing laser and the data needed to use it. What he had not anticipated was how different ShinRa's systems actually are, comparatively speaking. It's akin to switching between Windows, Linux, Macs, and mainframes with no visual indication of which system it actually is until you access it. Therefore, he has spent most time physically typing and straightening out each system one-by-one (with invaluable and required assistance from ShinRa technicians) before he could even begin the wireless upgrade process. Finally, a week after beginning his task, he is almost done. In fact, the last system that needs to be protected is the very computer that controls the digitizing laser itself. After the incident with CHIEF using the laser to pull a Grid Tank into Userspace, it didn't take much convincing to put protective measures on that system as well.

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' Rufus understood that a selfawre program whose function was security could set up a system that could very well make any human hacker's life pretty darn misrable and that's why he'd asked for such. It wasn't something unresonable he wasn't asking Tron to do something against his eithics or hurt anyone after all and he could have tried to chartge more. Either way the upfrade seems to be under way with one of the Shinra IT guys watching TRON with more than a ittle bit of awe at this point. "Damn you really are like they say you are." The man comments as he adjusts his glasses again.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON has only paused in his work long enough for the work-day cycle to circle back around again, unwilling to work without a ShinRa technician to supervise and give him a hand. His outfit looks a bit worn and dusty yet not terribly disheveled even considering he hasn't changed his clothes since he arrived, but his expression is weary and his brown eyes are noticeably tired. He smiles wanly to the tech as they make their way into the lab where the ShinRa setup for the laser has been installed. "I wouldn't have even gotten this far without your assistance." He twirls his black chakram Disc between his black-gloved fingers absent-mindedly. "These systems are... very diverse. Very different. I'm running on sole..." He struggles for a moment to find the right word: "...instinct? I suppose the term is close enough." He does not move towards the computer, instead circling around the digitizing laser itself while studying it intently. The last time he had seen it so closely, it was only once in that initial moment of passing deep in Flynn's Arcade--when he'd first arrived in Manhattan. Casual observation doesn't trigger any differences to how he last remembered its appearance, so that helps immensely... He nods slowly to himself as if satisfied, then turns his full attention to the computer itself. "This has... changed, from what I last remember. Did ShinRa alter the computer once they obtained custody from LEXUS?"

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man says "Hey it's a living and damn I learned a few things. You got more of a hand for it than some of the other employees and eh you know what you know." He pauses for a moment "No we didn't want to mess with it, we looked at copies of the data sure but we didn't do anything to screw with it. A system like this is way too Valuable to do anything direct on and LEXUS...I heard about that thing. Sounds like omething you need to blast with the Junon canon several times."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON looks down at his chakram Disc, his expression seeming troubled from the praise coming from a true User of all things. "I am just a Security Program." This is most likely a line that has been stated throughout the week. He taps on the glass-like top of the computer terminal with a fingertip, the upper half becoming akin to a monitor while the lower half took the look of a green-lined keyboard. "I see. Perhaps I am being... overly concerned?" He types a command onto the keyboard requesting access to the operating system, finding the User method less jarring to his own system than trying to wirelessly activate it remotely. However, the cursor blinks once... twice... then the entire screen freezes in pixelated green, like a frozen Matrix screen. "What?" TRON stares down at the screen, typing futilely at a few keys that have also become less distinct and quite pixelated. "Sir, has this happened before?"

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The Man seems to be a bit not angry but a bit well? Confusion he's not getting the program thing he gets TRON is not a human but it's hard to grasp when your basically a victem of having no directives at birth. "Hey your more adept at this than I am an I went to school for this." he pause at the glitch for a moment "Oh hell that don't look good, that doesn't look good at all. Looks like we got some sort of bad software conflict..."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON steps back from the computer and lifts his Disc, holding it flat on the palm of his hand as if holding a plate. "Let me see--" His eyes flare with bluish-white light and images suddenly appear over the Disc, like a projector showing off a slideshow too fast to make out visually. Almost immediately he recoils, almost dropping the Disc even as he curls in on himself for a moment with a sharp grunt of... pain? What the heck /WAS/ that? It felt like he KNOWS... but he can't access...? Why?! No, don't focus on that right now. There's a job at hand. He shakes his head harshly and almost visibly forces himself to straighten up, his eyes completely lost in white light. "Nngh... The system's completely frozen. I can't..." He shakes his head. No use explaining it. "There's another... operating system installed.... Should be fine. Can you... reset the computer's power... boot up the secondary operating system?"

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man looks over at Tron he wonmders wha tis going on and he looks over at it. "WAit there's two? Ya I can try to do so." The man notes "This could explain it." hte man heads ove to reboot the manchine manually and gets to work on doing so. "Code from two different worlds we're lucky both are use binary at the very least." The man is unaware someone in R&D is being stupid and angering something that could cleave though anything short of the TURKs or SOLIDER without skipping a beat. So he works in blissful ignorance "That should do it." he punches in a few more commands as the machine boots up.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON shakes his head firmly again, still seeming a little unstable on his feet but by-and-large recovered from the shock. "Yes, at least there is that." He waits for the computer to finish rebooting, then moves to stand in front of the computer. He taps a command, experimentally testing how much information it already has, and it almost immediately scrolls a small list without so much as a flicker of green light. Very new, not a lot of data... there should be enough room. "It looks like the problem is localized to the primary operating system," TRON muses to the technician. "I'll attempt a data transfer from the primary OS to the secondary and remove the frozen OS from the system, then proceed with installation of the protective measures into the system." He kneels, testing an area that looks like it's been battle-damaged, and plugs a device into the side of the computer. This should not be alarming, as he has plugged in this device on other computers as well to assist in the various prior system updates--especially at the end of a long day. "Alright." He stands up and lifts his Disc once more. "Beginning data transfer... now." Images appear over the Disc, flickering from one snapshot to the next too fast for the eye to follow. The screen on the top surface of the computer scrolls rapidly as each file is pulled from the frozen primary OS into the newer secondary OS, mirroring the visuals above TRON's Disc.

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man nods and lets Tron doe he his thing's going to get another mug of coffee which is something fairly major he needs as this has been a long haul. "Least this jobs kept me away from R&D all week I owe you a drink for that. Some real crazies down there. Genius sure but wacked." The man notes as he drinks at his copy watching pausing looking at Tron for a moment. "It going all right for ya TRON?" The man notes stll he's got to wonder if this guy is a program then wait are some of his creations doing things when he's not looking?

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods distractedly, his gaze apparently pinned on the images but the irises and pupils of his eyes completely obstructed by the white light making his eyes more like a robot's optics. "The process is running smoothly." His voice is noteably without inflection, so much processing power devoted to the action at hand, but proves to not be a distraction from conversation. "I will gladly take that drink. Any drink." A thin smile, honest but quite tired, seems to alleviate some of his stoic non-expressiveness. "Any suggestions, sir?" Meanwhile, the screen continues to scroll as the files continue to be transferred, only for the images to suddenly disappear as the last line of the screen reads, 'transfer complete. xxxx files transferred'. TRON doesn't even pause, reaching over to the digital keyboard to type a command that quite clearly purges the frozen operating system from the computer. "Initializing system protective measures..." He closes his eyes and quite clearly focuses, "...now." The monitor scrolls again, faster than before, as the system is thoroughly cleaned and restructured to fully integrate the copied data into the operating system. At the same time, the groundwork for the defense protocols are also integrated. It's a process the technician has been witness to time and time again throughout the week, and there is no visible change from what has happened before.

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man thinks for a moment and drains the rest of his coffee and he says "Right, I know a few good bars out of town if you want." He has no idea TRON may have been too uit but it's a good one that gets one out of Goug right? Eithe way the man things 'We'llg et something when we get there." He watches Ton do his thing and hopefully fixed the damaged operating system and finish up everything else. "Well this is the last one and then contacts done. This should hopefully shore us up pretty good." With Murasame and Xanantos out there is a darn good reason Rufus made this deal. He darn well knows that those two might be after things he'd not want to share.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON falls relatively silent again, his closed eyes twitching somewhat as if reading something scrolling behind his eyelids. "I would hope so." It's why he's here, right? He knows little about ShinRa's practices, but if they employ decent people like this technician, they can't be all bad. Right? Oh, if only you knew. Installing the system protective measures is remarkably fast once the rest of the system is set to right, and the text on the monitor half of the screen wipes all text and replaces it with a familiar emblem--a circle with a Tetris-like 'T' in the center. "Done." He lowers his Disk, slipping it under his shirt to reconnect to the hidden spindle on his back, and releases a long sigh as he taps the power off for the computer. "Let me know if there are any issues, but there should be no disruptions to any of your company's operations." He removes the device and tucks it back into a pocket, pushing his glasses up slightly as he rubs the bridge of his nose with pinched fingertips. "At this point, my part in the contract is complete, and all I need is that promised data... then I could really use that drink." He grins slightly. "Thank you for your help, sir. As cliche as it sounds, I honestly could not complete this job without it."

:'''[[Minerva]] has posed:''' The man yawns a bit "Been a long haul least the boss man will be happy with this and his son. Always good in my book there." Well most of the rank and file are not bad people the problem is the people up top. Eithe way the guy looks back to Tron "I'll keep you posted if anythign comes up. Right I'll go get the data." He shuffles off for a few moments likely recovering the dataq from a safe. He goes to confirm the last one is done. "Hey no problem. Here's the data you wanted. Lets get that drink. I actually got some time off coming after this. I think I'll hit up Costa Del Sol."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON accepts the disc from the technician and carefully stores it in a seperate pocket. He'll peruse it later to make sure everything is there--though he has no reason to believe it wouldn't be. But just to satisfy Master Control, if nothing else. He'll also check the OS he removed from the original system into the device, try to figure out what caused it to freeze like that... But that will come later. He's too worn out to concern himself with that right now. "Sounds good to me. I haven't been to this 'Costa Del Sol' before, and it seems this is a whole week of new experiences." He straightens his clothing slightly, trying to restore a bit of its original appearance so he doesn't seem too disheveled. "I'll follow your lead."

Digital Diplomacy

2013-06-22T01:51:25Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/05/19 |Location=Goug - Shinra HQ |Synopsis=TRON needs the original digitizing laser and computer back in order to free Deelel from Datapoint S..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/05/19
|Location=Goug - Shinra HQ
|Synopsis=TRON needs the original digitizing laser and computer back in order to free Deelel from Datapoint Security custody. Problem is, the original system is in ShinRa custody...
|Cast of Characters=TRON, Rufus Shinra
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus had been busy, while not a major player he had made some deals with Souji, partilly to help move the Shinra forward to recovery paritally to keep an eye on him as the young man was abitious as he was. He also had adept followers. Rufus was watching but he could bide his time after all the more noise one made the more trouble they got after all. Rufus had been suprised about the request for a meeting from one TRON, the R&D department had long been going over Reno's suprised capture from the virus LEXUS and later working with one native of the word it connected to. It was a simple arrangement that had lead to some improvement in their own computer technolgoy as the world it came from did somethings the ShinRa had never thought of. He's waiting at his massive desk on the top floor of the Shinra building as Tron has been shown his way in. TRON wold have seen both SOLIDERs and Shinra Troopers here or there, never too visably heavy but it was clear the Shinra didn't take chances when it came to security. He'd been shown in promptly by the receptionist and now Rufus awaits.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON had set up an appointment to meet with Rufus Shinra a few days prior, after receiving word that Deelel had been captured by DPS. He had taken the opportunity to grab a new set of clothing that is far nicer than anything he currently owns, and somehow managed to find his way here. Not that it's difficult to find once you get close enough, but there's much of the World of Ruin that's difficult to traverse by Light Cycle. As it is, he is here on time and moves to the elevator as directed without drawing attention to himself nor seeming bothered by the security presence. He is wearing a nice navy-blue business suit with a white shirt and a blue tie, glasses on his face and hair... well, it's not slicked down or back, but it is at least neat. The only thing that seems 'off' about him is his stiff gait and the fact he is wearing black leather gloves over his hands for some reason. He nods to the receptionist and enters Rufus' office, pausing in the middle of the room to bow his head to the CEO of ShinRa. "Mr. Shinra, I am TRON. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra is looking at TRON as he enters paying attention to the man as he enters. "It was not a problem, though I must confess some suprise about it." The Program who had made an arrganment with the Shinra for contuhned access to the hardware they'd taken from LEXUS had been captured by DPS an secirtty group in Traverse Town. He'd got the basics but wished to know more. "Give the nature of the situation you wish access to the laser which we removed from LEXUS' control and our assoiate has got herself intoa good deal of trouble it seems."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods once. "I will explain what I can, sir." He takes a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from Rufus and interlaces his fingers in front of him. "Deelel became suspicious of the activity of one Datapoint Security, the enforcement arm of Traverse Town's current mayor who originated from the same world as Deelel and myself. She infiltrated their base on her own, having told none others of her plans, and was caught by SARGON's forces accordingly." He frowns. "I myself did not hear about this until one of SARGON's enforcers contacted me. He stated that Datapoint Security will release Deelel should they receive data pertaining to the digitizing laser. This, admittedly, aligns with my own goal of restoring the laser to its rightful place in Manhattan--specifically, Flynn's Arcade." He leans back in his chair slightly, not enough to indicate relaxation but certainly an attempt to look less tense. Worry is clear on his face, both due to the situation and for Deelel's safety itself. "I am not here to make demands of you nor your company. I simply want to make matters right."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra listens for a long moment, this sounded like certain behaviours he'd observed in many powerful wandering people from the various worlds that make up the World of Ruin it was curious and also telling too. He also senses a chance to make some gains of him own. "So your friend is in trouble with SARGON. With SARGON wanting the laser which we aquired it's become quite the valuable asset to our resarch division. Well the data of the plans to build it and you wish your own copy while being able to free your friend? I can't give away something for nothing. Mr. Tron..."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods slowly, trying to not look discouraged and only partially succeeding. The aftereffect is the worried expression deeping noticeably. "I understand." A less-than-charitable thought crosses his mind. Why do Users always look for some sort of personal gain out of someone else's problems instead of simply doing the right thing? Then again, are Programs really that much different? He spreads his arms apart, the forearms resting on the armrests of his chair with palms upraised. "If you cannot part with the laser itself, I can study blueprints and schematics instead. I would also only need one copy. The data within the computer itself is equally important, as the laser won't function without it, and I would need only one copy of that as well." He emits a low sigh, though there are a few indications that it is more habitual than out of some biological necessity. "If you are seeking repayment, I do not know what it is you would require."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra is a businessman and understanding he's got TRON in a sticky situation but isn't planning to run the Program too hard. "I do not intend ask for two much. You are much like Deelel and others of your kind." Humm Tron's asking for plans and copies of data he can live iwth this. "Might I ask what your function is?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON tilts his head faintly, a small measure of distrust in his brown eyes, but not nearly at the point of hostility. If anything, it's just a guarded defensive look too benign to really be serious. "I am a Security Program. I defend my assigned area and those in it, neutralizing threats that would destabilize the system."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra humms and nods, "Humm would you be able to upgrade some of our own systerms security or would that not be possible for you to do. It would be suitable work for the things you are asking of me and nothing that would be unfair."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON's brow furrows in thought. Upgrade the security of this company's computer system? He hasn't tried doing that in months, ever since he fixed VALKYRI's single computer. He's still not entirely sure how he's even able to do that, come to think of it. "I believe it is possible, yes. I have done such a thing before." He glances around briefly. "Is there a centralized computer I can made upgrades to, or will I need to go to individual units?"

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra says "Some are centralized some are not. It's best to not to keep everything in one place." Given the nature of the worlds addec security would be a hting also entities like LEXUS and others out there. "I suspect you'll have more success than our suriving inhouse programmers have had." And like hell he's letting Hojo near certain things. Hojo was useful but he also knew how dangerous the man was. "The primary network would be the main concern as well as several stand alone units thankfully those are few and are here in the tower. So then we have ourselves a deal, you upgrade our security measure and you get the data you require."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods thoughtfully. Not /easy/ by any means, but what is? This is a clear 'take-it-or-leave-it', end of negotiations, and he doesn't have the luxury of leaving it. Besides, there's no logical reason to refuse the offer. "So be it." He rises from his chair a little stiffly, but not harshly. If anything, it's more like he'd been sitting a bit too long. "Then there is no time like the present." He readjusts his cuffs in apparent almost-mechanical habit due to the crisp movements. "If it could arranged for someone to lead me to where I need to go, I will see what I can do immediately."

:'''[[Rufus Shinra]] has posed:''' Rufus Shinra nods once "Very well then i'll call for the IT department so you can get started on the job. It has been a pleasure doing business with you Mr. TRON." ALl things considered Rufus request was not unresonable all things considered and nothing that would be against TRON's ethics. Ether way the deal is cast the formal contract will be done up and he shall call for the IT head to meet TRON at another part of the tower.

Truth and Consequences

2013-06-22T01:41:39Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/06/07 |Location=Castle Palamecia |Synopsis=Maira and Leon lead a group of friends and guardians to Palamecia Castle to get answers from Empero..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/06/07
|Location=Castle Palamecia
|Synopsis=Maira and Leon lead a group of friends and guardians to Palamecia Castle to get answers from Emperor Mateus.
|Cast of Characters=Maira, Angantyr Vespar, Percival, Rena Laradyne, Emperor Mateus, Leon
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' It is a cold day in Palamecia, all high-altitude dreariness and humidity that hasn't /quite/ broken into actual rain just yet despite dark clouds threatening otherwise. It's bad enough that the townsfolk in the Palamecian village seem content to remain in their homes, and even the military forces seem to have a similar mindset well-kept in their posts. It does not matter how one chooses to enter. Go through the labyrinthine corridors from the plains up to the peaks? Pass through the village? Fly up to the castle itself and bypass the scenery? Riding through on chocobo would get an odd look, but only due to the bird's rarity and subsequent novelty in this land. But there would not be a single case of hostility nor negativity directed towards nor about visitors. Any Palamecian they encounter, in fact, seem to lack a care or concern. At most, they seem expectant... But for what?

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Palamecia was a city that indeed had many ways. However Leon decided to go the direct way and when they did get close in, he did in fact allow his own chocobo to go back to once it came. If they were to be attacked. They would have because the gates into the city's mountain tunnel and into the city was directly ahead. He was sure those mountain peeks had hidden archers that could rain down arrows at anytime, but instead none of it came. He pulled the hood of his face a but more as if trying to further conceal himself and then motioned for the others to follow. If they choose not too, that was fine. If they wanted to go ahead. That was fine too. "Once we pass those gates." He says calmly. "There is no turning back." He perhaps says this to really remind himself. He was walking to the mouth of the Lion's den. Or perhaps it should be better said... Coeurl Den. As he stepped under the gates, he paused there. Noticing the two guards who didn't even move. They had normal eyes under their armor. Normal human eyes and didn't even seem to move. Like statues. His body tensed up, before he went to take another step. Then another. Just waiting for them to attack. Yet the attack never comes. It doesn't come for anyone; unless they make a move of aggression. So slowly, Leon walks on, glancing over his shoulders to see where everyone else was and if they were even being followed.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' Percival /does not/ ride Chocobos. He'd glide at some points. But when they were ready to approach the city's mountain tunnel, he'd have actually descended, and kept pace beside the Chocobos by dropping to all fours. Suprisingly he was able to keep pace, rather well. He'd said perhaps all of three words to Leon and Maira up until this point. Not because he was.. trying to avoid them, per se. More that he was afraid he'd just say the wrong thing... Also, because as he admitted to Maira earlier... He was terrified of what would happen when they went to Palamecia. When they passed through the gates, he'd actually rise back to just his hind legs, walking once again as a man, as he looked at each of the guards, he'd shudder, despite himself. Military discipline was one thing.. the Queen's Guard in London had that sort of discipline. But these men seemed like they were half-golems. Maybe that was closer to the mark than he thought... He'd just walk quickly past them.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' A thoughtful silence settled around Maira during their ride to Palamecia, hardly a word spoken by the young woman unless she was spoken to first. A strange thing, for the chatty Maira. There seemed no room for talk now. This was it. Answers to questions, resolutions to problems, ends and beginnings. Maira looks up at the gates of the city, pulling the cool, moist air into her lungs and letting it out slowly through her nose. She reaches up to adjust the hood of her cloak as well, making sure it covers her hair. She wishes the sky would stop threatening to rain and simply do it. Get it over with. Though Leon dismisses his chocobo, Maira cannot. She's riding Mao, and she won't leave him behind. She tired a lot easier than the rest of them anyway. Maira moves Mao over to stand beside Leon, reaching down and offering her hand to him for a moment. "No turning back. We're in this together--I won't let you get left behind. We can do this," she tells him, trying to be brave. She looks back toward Perci, flashing him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. Maira is terrified too, but she is determined not to look it. "....Lets do this," she says, then nudges Mao forward.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena let her chocobo go in the same fashion, watching it disappear back towards it's home in the distance as she drew her cloak about her. She was in her leather armor with the jacket and the bow slung over her shoulder. She had a much better idea of what to expect perhaps and didn't pay any attention to the guards in waiting other than to offer them a small smile. She offered Leon her arm. "Ready to go?" she asks, not so much as looking backwards as deciding to go back from here. No-- it was interesting enough to see this play out to the very end, now that the die had been cast. She doesn't seem worried or concerned in the slightest, as if they were on holiday and were strolling a private garden rather than walking straight into the teeth of the unknown.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' None of the soldiers react to the visitors not of their land--not of their world. Their eyes stare straight ahead, perhaps only the barest of flickers given to those who pass by, but they do not react nor even move. The purest example of military training, honed as only a militaristic state could achieve. Yet there is life in them, as clear to the eye as the armor itself. Not mere golems, nor puppets left hanging without a master to direct them. It may be... disturbing, at least to those apt to dismiss their humanity so cavalierly. As the group crosses through the small courtyard towards the entrance itself, there is nothing to indicate a trap nor even suspicion. In fact, the expectation still wafts over the area almost as heavy as the humidity, though not from any one source. They are expected. A man waits at the large doors leading into the castle proper, wearing noble clothing with his hands lightly woven together over his solar plexus. He is one in his prime, a knowing but not condescending smile gracing his smooth highborne features. "Greetings and salutations. I am to lead you to your ultimate destination. If you would follow me?"

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Leon doesn't even respond to anyone at first. He just inhales the cool air and keeps walking. When Rena gives him her arm, he takes it like a gentleman he is and then nods his head gently. "I am ready.. I am.. ok." He says very softly. Ok. Haha. That was a joke. Yet when Maira comes along the other side, which her chocobo may cause a momentary glance by one of the stationary guards, they STILL don't move. Leon carefully takes Maira's hand and gives it a gentle friendly squeeze before he lowers his arm once more. Though the side of the cloak goes past his shoulder now showing the gentle streams of darkness playing up his arm like a low yielding fire. It wasn't bad, but it was there. So now beyond the hood, The t-shirt, the jeans, the armor guard over his right arm, the sword at his hip. It was all there to see. And though it was cold-- he had gotten a tad use to it by now. "Maira." He says softly. "You should hand off your chocobo.. or let it go until you can call for it. We.. Fynn.. Palamecia.. neither nation holds Chocobos. Only steeds and last I checked-- only Palamecia's war horses remain. Beyond the wild mustangs and their herds." Soon they enter the court, then they enter toward the castle itself where a man seems to await them. Leon then reaches up and removes his hood. There was no further reason to hide his face. It was obvious now that Mateus knew they were coming-- somehow. Maybe that mark Maira pointed out scared into his back was indeed how. Which then begs the question of why did Mateus just /wait/; or maybe that was half the game after all. "Ultimate Destination huh?" Leon remarks coldly. "I am guessing whatever fate remains for them," He motions to the others. "Is not up for negotiation with you right?" There was a choice that may have to be made here. Leon does eye a few of the guards up on high. Noting a few of those ones are leaning on the edges of the barrier, watching closely it would seem. A few with red eyes. A few with bows, and a few that seem to have tomes hanging off their sides. Rather a large assortment of individuals it would seem. "..and so many guards needed really?" He murmurs out.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena lets her arm drop and blinks once before simply following along in the wake of the assorted travellers. "Ah..." the woman proclaims in a cheerfully sugared voice to Percival. "Remind me to give you a tour, guardian. There is so much history here and so many things to see --although regretfully I do not think we have the time for tea." she looks to Maira who has sunk into thoughtful quiet and then back to Leon. She then bows politely to the noble, making a similar bow and smile as he has given them. "Thank you for being so gracious. Forgive my companions. Their nerves are a little frayed from the journey up here to the capital. " She says in an aside to Leon. "Yes. Its a welcoming committee, one way or another."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' The fact that they were expected really rubs Maira the wrong way. But of course, the heretic mark. It was just like Angantyr said, wasn't it? Maira nods to Leon, dismounting. She leans in to whisper to her chocobo, resting he head against the feathered one of the bird. "You go on back to the stables, okay? You know the way. I'll find you again, don't worry," she says to the bird. Mao is clearly reluctant to go, giving her the sad-eye before he turns and runs off. Sighing heavily, Maira then turns and squares her shoulders, walking up to meet the man who was here to escort them. She too removes her hood, no reason to hide. She's bad at it anyway. Maira keeps looking around toward the shadows, knowing Angan would likely be there. He would probably portal in if he wasn't already lurking nearby. Maira looks to the man and copies Rena, bowing a little. "Well I guess we're expected....lead the way then," she says, resigned. "Do we have at least a promise of safety while here?"

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' The Gargoyle would just offer a faint smile to Rena, "I'm suitably disappointed.. you know how much I truly enjoy your tea. However I feel that the.. grandeur, of Palamecia might be properly emphasized if my eyes remained.. open for the tour." That they were expected, was one of his worst fears. The genial mien of the man that greeted them only contributed to that. It just raised hackles, on the back of his neck. That this was all a drama, that they were all bit actors on a stage, and that they were all following a script... And yet he had a feeling that not following the script would lead to only greater consequences. It put him on edge. The man might as well have stated their /final resting place/, and it wouldn't have changed the way Percival felt about him, at all. At least then it would have sounded more honest. And still he'd just glance towards Maira, as if asking her silently, /Are, you, sure?/ He still had a trick or two up his.. well not sleeves, but around his neck. Something he'd acquired just after their first encounter with the Emperor of Palamecia.

:'''[[Angantyr Vespar]] has posed:''' A dark portal appears. "This is a seriously bad ide-.." Angantyr says, his beat skipped due to the fact that they were being expected. "Okay, this is a VERY seriously bad idea," He states, shaking his head. His hand does not go to his weapon, but he's not liking this at all. Both giving a look to Maira, and then to Leon. This was going to go badly, he was going to have to kill his way out, and drag Maira with him... Percival was only a optional objective. Leon was probably going to betray them because of Jazz hands...poor Rena was probably going to be a causalty of this whole stupid idea. Yes, Genre savvy is a skill, he put ranks in it. Suck it.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira looks to Percival, nodding slowly. Is she sure this will not all go horribly wrong? No. Is she sure she has to do this anyway? Yes. She wouldn't leave Leon to do this alone, and Angan and Perci wouldn't let her do this without them. Still, Maira clings to optimism. To hope. Maira looks over to Angan and bites her lip, stepping closer to him. That always helped. "It'll be okay," she says quietly. She knows he won't believe it.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The man's smile widens as a warm chuckle escapes his throat. "I make no decisions here," he replies as he regally bows to the newcoming guests. "But please, put yourselves at ease. You are guests, not hostages. No harm from us shall befall you, by order of the Emperor." The troops crowding the upper ramparts overlooking the courtyard are more curious than anything, and anything but hostile. Most gazes are on Leonhart himself, but the others get their fair share as well. Maira's bright red Chocobo running off redirects the gazes for a time, though it's only a sharp bark of a superior officer that scatters the forces back to their posts. Angantyr's arrival by way of portal doesn't get anyone to even bat an eye or flinch, apparently at least passingly familiar with the concept of Dark Corridors. "Now then, please follow me." He turns around in a quite sharp about-face and walks into the corridors, seemingly unconcerned with the visitor's unease.

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Leon rumbles softly as Rena says her bit. Then he remembers what her deal in this all is and sighs softly. "..We are.. safe." Leon says calmly to Maira. "..You will be safe." He states again as he then notices Ang come out of the dark portal. "Handy." He then starts to follow the noble man, looking over everything here. "So our reason of safe passage is because Mateus wants us to have a nice warm, cold welcome with no weapons to our throats. How quaint." Leon then glances over to Percival, then to Ang. He was sure with them not both here, Maira would be safe. Rena though-- beyond her making sure he didn't go berserk on this trip, he wondered what role she would play now. An aid in Maira's escape-- or a force to be reckoned with. Yet.. her presence was-- comforting. Either way. As the walk. Leon unlatches a small leather book from his belt which he then hands over to Maira. "Maira." He says softly. "Would you look over this for me? Just encase.. you know." He would give it to Rena, but he wasn't sure if Mateus wouldn't force her hand at some point. If you can ever force her hand at anything.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena seems to be more than usually aware of this. Go go genre savvy awareness. She looks at him, then at Percival, then at everyone around and just laughs very-- very softly. "I know." she says to Angantyr. "I know." What she has learned about all of this, about how heroes have neatly arranged themselves on a plate without having to be more than lightly coerced is kept to herself. Laughter would certainly ruin the doomed mood of this quasi-ridiculous procession. And it would hurt Leon, which is counterintuitive right now. There was enough to be dished out soon that she didn't need to add to it. She smiled sadly at him and followed where the noble would lead. And if she felt a little hurt and irritated and helpless? Well. That was shoved into a very small corner in a box labeled 'do not open' and then lost in a bureaucratic error. Tragic.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Huddled still beneath her long cloak, Maira follows, her eyes roaming as they move. Even here, even now, she can't not notice such majesty. It is not a sight she ever thought to see. The inside of a castle? An emperor? The world had gone mad. Maira glances toward Rena, wondering much the same as Leon. She knows Mateus, she seemed friendly with him even. Maira doesn't understand how Leon still trusts her. She knew this was a terrible idea, but she had promised Leon that she would go. This is what he thought he needed to do, and she wasn't going to let him walk back into Mateus' grip without putting up a fight for him. When Leon hands her a journal, she takes it and looks at it for a moment, running her hand over the cover. "I'll look after it...but that's not going to happen Leon. We're not going to let you go," she says to him, tucking the journal into her pocket inside her cloak. Ugh, are they /there/ yet!?

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' Percival was a movie buff, he was very genre savvy, moreso than most thought.. Except he thought it was more likely that Leon would be forced to betray them, whereas Rena would be the one who /actually/ betrayed them. For some reason he considered her far more dangerous than Leon, after his experiences with her. Also because he was a little biased given her sleeping spell on the tea cup. "Guests." He simply grunts it out, closing his eyes and breathing out a sigh. More like prisoners, except the prison was the entirety of the nation. They'd just walked willingly into their own cells. And yet despite the madness of the idea, he was still following their tour guide around.

:'''[[Angantyr Vespar]] has posed:''' If Ang could hear Rena's thoughts, he'd scoff. Shadow Lord or not, Angantyr's confident in his power, or at least, being able to make sure Maira got away. Beyond that, he was sure HE could get away...eventually. Angantyr's darkness was a parcular breed. The soldiers scoff, but Ang keeps walking...he's been inside this kinda place before, he knows how these people act...nobility in his his blood, and part of his up bringing...he's sometimes very glad that he was freed from such a life. He likes Maira's optimism...but he was sure this wasn't going to end up well for anyone involved. He's quiet now, walking and listening, trying to watch out for...whatever is coming. Emperor or not, he was sure that they were going to be watched, the heartless could come form anywhere...and the soliders of one of the more powerful nations of the World of Ruin come down on them all. He's on edge, but he hides it well. Unless you can sense the dark.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Their impromtu 'guide' pauses at a large set of double-doors. "This is as far as I can go." He gives them a bow, then presses against the doors to open them. "My Emperor. They are here." As he moves aside to let the group pass, the large throne hall is revealed--yet it is surpisingly bright and warm, especially given the weather conditions and the country's reputation. The decor is simple, befitting of an ancient medival castle with tapestries and crossed-weapon-shields on the walls. Both the tapestries and the shields are emblazoned with the Palamecian crest--the red bird on a black background. Most surprisingly, a table has been set up with food and drink available, steaming hot and providing even more warmth for the area. "Greetings, honored guests. If you are hungry or thirsty, feel free to help yourself." The familiar crooning tones of Emperor Mateus' voice almost echoes in the large hall, but not from the throne at the other side of the room. Instead, he walks out from a side door, wearing his black-and-purple outfit with part of his long silver hair bound around horns at the side of his head with the rest falling free down his back. He is not armed, his staff is nowhere in sight, but that is probably not a comfort. He bows to the group, one arm folding in front of his torso as his other arm sweeps off to the side, a warmly honest smile on his face. There is no pompously-arrogant Emperor here, and certainly no 'fufufu' to set off Dark Knight tempers. "I understand you trust nothing here, and you are well within your rights to do so. I shall not bar any of you from leaving if such is your wish, but I believe you came here for a reason." He walks to the far side of the table, placing it between himself and the group as if to further emphasize peaceful intent. "I am curious as to 'why'."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Leon was lead right into the main hall and he stares at all the fancy stuff. Including the free food. Which he was-- very tempted to get. He would respond to Maira, but he was staring at the whole place. Was this where it happened? Or was it back in Fynn... Either way he glances around before Mateus walks into the room. His red eyes glow brightly as that tinge of gold becomes very obvious. "You!" He suddenly barks out. His hand reaching for his sword as he suddenly takes a few steps forward, but he doesn't pull out his sword. He doesn't draw it. "...." Silence then falls over him as he then finds himself standing very rigded, a sneer on his face. Yet he be the one who have to answer the 'why' or did he? "Don't play games, Mateus. You know why we are here. You can tell what is going on all along, couldn't you? So why continue this little game when I /bet/ you been shadowing my steps the entire damn time!" He then takes a step forward and points his finger at Mateus. "You.." He then closes his eyes and lowers his hand. He could feel the darkness creeping around him. Seems the ticking time bomb has come back and perhaps with vengeance. "..You wanted me." His eyes open and he stares at Mateus. "So here I am. Now.. leave Maira and the others alone. Because I don't take your word for anything-- and I am sure.. neither do they." Leon looks over to Rena for only a moment, then to the others. "But I do have one question.." he then points at Maira. "Why did that Ghost and you have that stare off. What is /her/ story in all this? Because I bet if its important enough-- you WONT let them walk out."

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena smiles warmly as Mateus enters. "Always the gentlemen, Mateus." she inclines her head then looks over at Leon. "And there's no better reason than good company. It's one thing to hear of an inescapable tragedy and another to find one somewhat more up close." she snorts very faintly and swings her arms back and forth. "Guardian Angantyr. I still believe I owe you several drinks. They are likely, in the presence of the moment, not even likely to be poisoned and between the two of us, I think we can bully any lingering ailment to trouble someone fainter of spirit." She listens to Leon for awhile, but she has decided. He is an adult, and as such can take care of himself. After all. No force in the world has gotten in between him and his decisions. She is simply making her own now. she strides down the hall and takes a seat at the table, taking a deep and steady breath of the food as she folds her hands in her lap and waits with faint curiosity to see if anyone will join her.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' The guide disappears, and he'd take in the appearance of the Emperor walked right into the room from the side alcove. He was rather cocksure, and far too comfortable, but why shouldn't he be? He was in the middle of his Empire. They'd only gotten this far because he allowed it. He'd listen to his speech with arms folded across his chest and wings opened. Given that it was indoors, it seemed like an almost contemptuous gesture. But it was more that he just wanted to keep his options open for a quick reaction if it were necessary. No that certainly didn't make him feel like he was a guest, he still felt like a willing prisoner of his own making. And nope. He is definitely not touching that food. Nor the drink. Thanks Rena, that's all your fault. It almost certainly isn't even poisoned or ensorcelled. Still, /your fault/ Rena. But no, he's not going to interrupt this conversation. It's far too important for him to even think of interjecting any words here. Besides, he wanted to know how the Emperor knew Uist as well.. and how Uist came to be Maira's father if so. In summation... /Remaining silent for Plot Exposition, GO!/

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira can sense the dark. Whatever calm Angantyr projects, she knows he is on edge. She's glad for it. She trust him and Percival completely. They would look out for her as she would look out for them. Maira watches the shadows, on the look out for heartless as well. She expected them to be everywhere. Maira looks to Percival, pressing her lips together in a thin line of worry. If Mateus attacks them now, would she be able to look out for them all? Maira nods to the man as he tells Mateus they are here and then departs, moving inside, possibly first if they will let her. Whatever she was expecting, this wasn't quite it. D-damn it! Did he know how much she loved food!? A FEAST!? The cold and starving orphan in her is yelling at her to start stuffing her stomach--and her pockets. However, she resists. Now that she sees him, she closes her eyes for a moment and Uist arrives. He will be more careful this time he tells himself. He will not draw too much energy from Maira to make himself fully corporeal. He appears--well, as a ghost. Ethereal, vaguely shaped, but with recognizable features. He stands to the side of Maira and just stares at Mateus. "You know why we are here Matthew--ah, Mateus," she says, standing her ground and looking back toward Leon. She lets him speak, wincing as he reaches for his blade. "I'll say it. You were right, because here we are. You knew Leon would have to come back....Now, I have to ask that you fully release Leon from your influence," she replies. She'd been practicing this in her head for miles of their trip. Maira takes a quick breath, then looks to Uist, nodding in agreement to Leon's words. "Yes. I want to know what you know of Uist--and of me."

:'''[[Angantyr Vespar]] has posed:''' Angantyr rolls his eyes at Mataeus... Oh yes, you can afford to be hospitable because you have all the keys...the hospitality no doubt would be different if you didn't have them, he muses to himself. "Not drinking." he says, simply to Rena, "Not here...not now. While they may not be poisoned, I will not have my senses dulled in such a way now." he says, "But we can have a drink another time where the subject matter is not...heavy." He tries to be pleasent, but he's starting to rethink how Rena fits into this. He isn't sure if he can take her down in one strike...which would leave three of them, against three of them...and a army of men and heartless. He shifts...he loves these odds. Uist manifests, and another piece of the puzzle is...starting to come out. "Lets skip the dramatics. And honestly? Using darkness to control this man in such a way is...man, I can just imagine what Garland would say. Stupid is a kindness."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Strange thing is, there are no guards, and the few shadows that are within view are silent and still. There are no Palamecian forces within the throne room, human or Heartless. Clearly another strong message that Mateus is remaining true to his word--as he always has to this point. The Emperor does not smirk, does not seem to even look triumphant. Yes, he was right--but they know it, voice their discontent with knowing it, so why rub it in? Hardly the right setting for such pettiness. "Aye, Leonhart. I knew your location and your actions, but 'twas no different than watching a butterfly in the field. What you did was of your own choice, either as Leon or the Dark Knight." His voice is quiet and frank, but surprisingly without conceit or any of the many negative personality traits that have been attribuited to him as of late. "However, your condition... is deeply concerning..." His gaze wanders over the others--at Rena's amblivance, at Perceival's stoic distrust, at Angantyr's bluntness, until finally focusing on Maira and Uist's confusion. "Leonhart has a strong Darkness in his heart, constantly threatening to consume him from within. It is not simply something one can wish away and make better, and 'tis not of my doing. A heart opened to Darkness cannot be cleansed of Darkness, yet the heart must be strong enough to manage it--control it. Leon's heart is unable on its own, so I locked it away to protect what remains of Leon himself. I will not claim benevolence, as it was completely for my own ends, but the alternative was... wasteful." He motions to Angantyr in particular. "To compare Leon in his current state and Angantyr over there is appropriate, given the circumstances." He moves on, however, not letting the topic linger on that for long. "But very well. I will get to the point." He pulls his cape to his side and takes a seat at the table, taking a drink from the goblet as one would sip champagne. If the rampant lack of respect for his station bothers him, he does not show it one bit. "There is nothing to hide, after all." He points to Uist specifically. "In life, you were Captain Uist Netherpyre of the Palamecian Honor Guard--the protectors of the royal line. When the first emperor of Palamecia--my..." He audibly spits the next word out in clear contempt for just that moment, "...father-- sought the Darkness, he haphazardly cast many of his men through Corridors into other worlds. You were one such man." He steeples his fingers together in front of his face. "When I deposed my madman predecessor and became Emperor in his place, I did my best to find and return those lost men to the Empire. When I found you, however... you had found a life. A love. And you brought her here with you. I had allowed her to stay, but your experiences had... altered your perceptions. Your loyalties had turned elsewhere, to the new home you had found. What was it called... Goug?"

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Leon watches Rena then walk over to the table to sit down. Waiting to see who would join her. He frowns a little at this. Not because she left his side, because he rather be sitting there with her then in front of Mateus. Though his gaze moves over to Maira as she speaks up. He blinks his eyes a few times, surprised by her own words. She wants him set free? He was-- rather sure.. that wasn't an option that could be done. Or was it? His eyes slowly turn to look at Mateus. Then at the ghost as it manifests itself once more, then back to Mateus. This was going to get /interesting/ wasn't it? Then Mateus gets down to the nitty gritty and honestly. Leon wasn't feeling to much better so he just finds himself swaying a little as he listens. He glances over at Ang as he gets compared to him and snorts. Unsure if to take that as a compliment or an insult. He then crosses his arms over his chest. The darkness under his feet spreading out a bit, but staying close to him never-the-less. He goes to explain what is up with Uist and the fact that apparently the ghost was once a Palamecian Soldier. Leon then reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose. "So.. The ghost was one of your men who wanted to get away from you, which I can't blame him-- and you can't undo the very curse you inflicted upon me--- because it was always there and you just.. poked it to hard? Am I getting this all right?" "Remind me when I ask for you to take my life, next time I make myself more /clear/." He then pauses and raises an eye brow sharply. "And just wait a minute here, Your /emperorness/. You trying to say that you have no control over the Dark Knight? That is a complete line of bull." Or-- that soldier was being honest-- which was worse. Damn. What kinda villains are honest?! "You are the one who ordered him to do everything he had done. Probably even go after Maira."

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena shakes her head and (after very quietly casting a silenced spell that checks for contaminants) sits down to eat and drink. This is the /least/ advantageous time of all times to pull such an obvious dodge, but she believes in being secure first and self-satisfied later. She is really starting to enjoy the whole cringing shock and horror routine being played out by the guardians and Leon. She looks at Uist curiously, having seen them only the once before. She nods to Angantyr, respecting the choice even though she-- thinking about it, didn't actually CARE if it was poisoned or not. Perhaps that was why she could keep a cheerful demeanor. What a waste of good food anyways. Rena listens to the story as she eats and marvels at the delivery. Both from Leon and from the Emperor. Give someone the truth, appropriately sharpened, and they will, graciously, impale themselves on it.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Seriously, why does Rena owe Angantyr a drink!? And surely he wasn't actually going to drink with her!? Ugh. No, not her concern. She's not going to be ridiculous. At least, she's going to try really hard not to be. Maira looks to Angantyr though, hoping to catch his eye so she can try to communicate her misgivings with a glance and perhaps see if he shared them. She darn well knew how Perci felt about Rena. That was easy. When Angantyr mentions Garland, Maira winces slightly. In her head, Garland says 'Kill them all for my amusement!'. Maira turns her eyes back to Mateus, standing stiff as a statue, her eyes locked on the Emperor. Is it true? The darkness was not of Mateus' making? But there were other ways! Angantyr is proof! Maira looks to him when he is mentioned, pursing her lips. "It is /not/ the same though. Angan has control of the darkness. He has balance. When you locked away Leon's heart all balance was lost," she protests. Then he continues, and Maira goes quiet. Uist's eyes are fixed on Mateus, memories that had been lost to him stirring. It is painful, so painful. Unintentionally, Uist pulls on Maira's life-force, making himself more solid, drawn by the agony of the memory. Oh, Aisling. "Midgar. It merged with a place called Goug when the World of Ruin was created," Uist replies. Maira winces as she feels Uist pulling on her, but she thinks it will be okay, for the moment. This situation however...everything is changing as Uist remembers. Maira's eyes turn to Leon, frowning softly. Was it true? If Mateus didn't control the Dark Knight...then what was it? Could a man be two people? "There has to be a way to help him. He's not the only person with darkness in his heart, he can learn. He can strengthen his heart," she says, looking to Leon. "/I/ believe his heart is strong." "What about what I did to him? Are you saying I can't do it again? That it won't work? ....and what about the mark you placed on him, then? I know what the heretic's mark is," she says. Well at least now Angantyr explained it to her. This is a lot to take in. Her parentage spans worlds before they merged. "So....I was born...here?" Uist turns to look to Maira, nodding solemnly. "You were. We fled with you--I remember. I was killed before you could know me," he replies, becoming more solid as he speaks. Maira pales, tears rising. "Uist...you're hurting me..." Uist steps back as if stung, realizing what he was doing. Promptly, he disappears. Maira is now reconsidering taking a seat. Too bad the chairs are all over there, right next to all that delicious looking food she shouldn't eat. The Goblin King offers you food--hmm did she read a story about something like that? That you shouldn't eat it? Or was that the Underworld? Or Faerie? Ugh! Maira raises her hands and places them near her heart. She looks to Mateus. One more question. "....Which world?"

:'''[[Angantyr Vespar]] has posed:''' Angantyr frowns... "He is not entirely wrong." He says, annoyed to have to agree with this <GOOSEHONK>. "All hearts have darkness...something must have happened, something made you hate so deeply that you'd do anything for the power to...do something." he shrugs, "I am...no exception. Though my darkness is...different, I drew upon it haphazardly in my past." he shakes his head, that was in the end just a begining. "Yes, one can learn to master one's darkness. However, using such power errodes...even the strongest hearts." "You sealed his heart, and put a puppet in it's place...but your puppet wasn't exactly that either, he had it's own goals too...or rather, accepted your orders and chose how to interpret them, as well as follow them." he glances towards Maira, nodding. Rena is quickly becoming a calculation in how to deal with leaving, when the time comes. Maira comes from here? It's...not something that Angantyr finds too shocking? So you come from another world...to someone who's as well traveled...who threw himself into Garland's lair by accident... these things lost their meaning a long time ago. "Just because he is not lying, doesn't mean he isn't saying everything either. And to be honest, I don't trust him as far as I could throw his palace."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' Alright, he had to admit it, he was at least sympathizing with Leon now.. Because this guy was a total <GOOSEHONK> who had completely screwed with Leon's life for what seemed to be the Shadow Lord equivalent of /Because I could/ or the /lulz/. That didn't amuse him at all. Everything else he just watches.. stoically. He wanted to do something when Uist manifested and started to accidentally hurt Maira, but he didn't know what to do. He wanted to comfort Maira, but he felt like it wasn't his place any longer to do that... So he did something that would seem pretty uncharacteristic for most that knew him. He just watched, helplessly as the events unfolded. He watched, listened, took it all in. Then grumbled and cast a glance sidelong at Rena. Yeah he wasn't happy that she was casually eating throughout all of this.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus seems completely nonplussed, lifting a goblet to Rena who, regretfully, seems to be the only one willing to dine at the table. So suspicious, these heroes, especially the Gargoyle trying so hard to be stoic but broadcasting his helplessness like a beacon. His thoughts are wrenched back to the conversations and he immediately frowns at Leon upon the accusations. "You are wrong, Leonhart of Fynn. My sole order was for the Dark Knight to travel this world and learn of the various lands not originally of our own. 'Twas /HE/ who concocted the plan of the tests and commanded the implimentation thereof. 'Twas /HE/ who went after Maira of /HIS/ own free will. Or should I say... /YOU/." His hands spread out to his sides, an implied shrug without his shoulder pauldrons even twitching, and nods in confirmation to Angantyr's observations and explanations. "Aye, Angantyr. The Dark Knight is neither my puppet nor even my pawn, and I use the Mark as mere passive surveillance. I locked away the heart and the memories, instilled absolute loyalty, but nothing more--the Dark Knight as you know him formed from what remained." He really is laying out all the cards without apparent care about what they'd do with such information. Then again, it seems to be Palamecia's style--and thus Mateus' by default--to go by 'honesty is the best policy', no matter how blunt or harsh it may be. Besides, whoever expects a villain of any type, much less a Shadow Lord, to speak the truth? Maira's insistant questions are met with a grim half-smile. "I was but an acolyte in the ways of the Shadow Lord at the time, and nothing I have found since has convinced me of another way. If I do nothing and you continue this path, Maira, in time you will be consumed by his willfully unchecked Darkness if he does not become a Heartless before then." His lavender eyes narrow at Leon incrementally. "One cannot convince a dead man to live." He focues solely on Maira upon her final question, laden with too much weight to be innocent. Maiden of Light... Yes, perhaps even something akin to a fabled 'Princess of Heart'. There are too many similarities to /not/ be possible... and that was worrying, especially with tales on the wind of Darkness shadowing Maira's every move. He closes his eyes for a moment, weighing the possibilities, and a barely perceptible nod seems to indicate an internal confirmation. "Mine." His eyes open, his gaze somewhat weary. "The world of your birth, of which only Fynn and Palamecia itself remain."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Leon only listens now. He didn't have much to say, but he does stare at the food for a bit, then over at Maira. She was-- starting to become a blinding force again. Augh. Maira though believed in his heart-- which was not something Leon however could trust. Not with so much-- hatred in it. That was part of the problem wasn't it? To much anger. To much pain. He wanted Mateus dead. He wanted his vengeance, cause he feared the truth. The truth that-- she-- He closes his eyes and just grunts now as he continues to listen as Uist and Maira have their talk regarding what Mateus says. Truth hurts. It hurts allot. He then opens one eye before he looks over to Mateus now. "I-- hate to say it Maira." Leon then sighs as he looks over to her, his eyes taking on a bit more of a gold hue. "..but.. Without Rena.. and without you.. I am pretty sure I would have already been consumed." He wanted to say there was nothing in this world for him; hm. Despair was strong in him. Yet that-- wasn't true. He had Rena now-- he had friends.. but they were not.. Then Angantyr says his part. He goes over how all hearts have darkness in them and that even if you master it, it can erode your strength over time. He also talks about how something caused that darkness to come out. Hatred. Yeah. We already been over this and those golden eyes that are slowly losing their red stare right at Mateus. Who knows. Maybe if he looses it-- he can just.. tackle Mateus and they can go down together. He can devour the 'masters' heart and then fall shortly after. Very quick, nice, but unpleasant ending. "..I suggest if we are going to get to a conclusion to all this.. we do so /soon/." Leon states with a bit of a grit teeth as he actually walks over to the table now and gets /away/ from Maira. Suddenly her Light wasn't such a good thing anymore and neither was this places leaking darkness. Instead he at last came to just plop down in a chair and stare at the food in front of him. He would eat it. But his mind wasn't on that right now. It was on the simple fact that until he /can/ release his anger-- his rage-- his desire to crush Mateus... he would never be free. Never. Truly. Be free. Rena was right. They all were right. Now Maira was here, cause of a foolish idea. It was only another thing to add to his plate. To late to join the fray, but enough time to give Firion a good shot at a knight. Then to late to save them. To weak to fight to protect them. To protect her. Maria. Sweet Maria. Would you ever forgive your foolish brother? Doesn't matter now-- does it? Your gone. Gone. Then suddenly Mateus snaps Leon's attention back as he lays down the square truth. 'Or should I say... /YOU/'. Leon suddenly stands up from where he was sitting and snarls at Mateus. Those eyes glowing dangerously as his hands tighten into fists. "Now just wait a minute!" He then throws out his arm to the side. The darkness trailing behind his movements. "I would never do anything like that bastard has done! That is against my nature! It is against my beliefs! Its cold. Calculative... and cruel! He killed without care. He harmed without reason. To seek the Light. To test. Like he was doing. That isn't me! That isn't what I am capable of doing!" Or was it. Maybe-- the Dark Knight was.. him.. just that side of his humanity, like all parts of humanity, that is kept locked away so no one can see just how dark you really are.

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Yet defense would call on deaf ears, because there was no reason to defend and Leon just-- sits back down, placing his hand over his face, with his elbow resting on the table. After all. Mateus says it all right there. Tug away a few memories. Lock down particular parts.. and what do you get? Leon the tactical murderer. It was-- not what he wanted to hear right now. None of this. "..I am not that monster.." he whispers to himself. Nameless servant. Is-- perhaps what Rena would call him? Selling away his name to become a nameless being of darkness. Yet his name was sold by trickery. He wanted his life ended, not-- reformed. However all these thoughts end as his attention turns to Maira as Mateus states that she is from /this/ world. That then makes her.. his? His gold eyes peer over at the two guardians. He knew what this could mean. Mateus after all had a reputation. This was getting into the territory of what Leon would fear it would go. There chance of escape may be coming less and less. He then lowers his hand and looks at Rena for a moment who is contently eating, before he peers at everyone once more. The gears were turning. 'One cannot convince a dead man to live.' '...dead man...' Maria. Firion. Guy... Tick. Tock. Time is running out. You can't bring back the dead. So what is there for you beyond revenge? Love. Maybe. Friendship. Yes. But-- that doesn't bring back the dead. Does blood for blood? Yet if you kill Mateus-- then what? You die to the darkness. Then what if-- what if they are /not/ dead. You didn't see them die. You believed so. The thoughts continue to slowly compound on themselves as Leon's eyes slowly drift down to his hands and the very darkness starting to rise up over his shoulders. Would sacrificing himself save Maira? People love her. Maybe in this-- he can redeem himself. Maybe... For now, he just remains quite and continues to silently contemplate over his choices. At least-- At least Maira is getting her answers. Answers to questions that had been hidden from her. That is-- that is what mattered most.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Now Maira need only decide on weather or not Mateus is lying about Leon. Maira looks toward him, her eyes widening. It had been him, if Mateus was to be believed. The Dark Knight was something formed from the remainder of Leon...she doesn't understand, but the world stopped making sense a long time ago. Maira frowns deeply. "No, you are not the monster--even if some part of you was it is not /all/ of you. There is more to you...you deserve another chance to live. Don't give up!" she replies. She may as well be speaking to any of the men in the room save Mateus. She's heard each of them call themselves monsters. She looks to Angantyr, then to Perci, then back to Mateus. When he answers her question she feels the rightness of it echo in the marrow of her bones--the truth resonating in her heart. Shaking, Maira sits down where she was in the throne room on the floor, just collapsing with the material of her cloak pooling around her. She is quiet for a while, taking this all in. This world was her home...or one of them. Where she was born. Where the light in her heart called to. "So....what now? You turn me over to Maleficent? Keep me here? Keep Leon?" Maira looks to Leon again. "Leon...tell me what you want me to do. I can try...I can keep doing what I did and hope it is enough..."

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena snorts faintly at 'you cannot convince a dead man to live' from Emperor Mateus. Ah. Welcome to my banquet said the spider to the flies. She swirls the drink around in her goblet and smiles into the expensive and very spiced depths as she takes another swig. "That's why the notion of a curse is so compelling, Leon. My friend-- it takes all the responsibility off your shoulders and makes it someone elses problem." she inclines her goblet in the emperor's direction. She says to Leon quietly, listening and then riposting firmly. "You wished the people of your homeland would suffer because you were suffering. You scorned their happiness. You scorned /your own/ happiness. I believe that to be.. perhaps.. just the beginnings. Not the end. Just as this-- this is an end." she smiles at him sadly. "An end in hiding. An end in desperation and denial and despair, but an end nonetheless." Rena laughs softly and shakes her head. "..don't you all get it?" she sighs. "Our good and gracious host the emperor Mateus doesn't have to lift a finger. You could walk out this second, but you'll come back-- in the hopes that you might be able to later save Leon. Hope. Hope will bring you back here. " she waves her hand in exasperation. "This is all a shadowplay thrown in sharp relief across the walls. And he is not pulling the strings. You very well all do that yourselves."

:'''[[Angantyr Vespar]] has posed:''' "I didn't come here to give up, Maira." Angantyr says, suddenly, without a slight bit of hesitation, the mace comes down infront of him, darkness exhudes from him. "If you plan on giving up, then I'm going to DRAG you out of here by force." his eyes narrowing on The Emperor. "I have my sights on one Emperor, lets go for two." He says, very much the dramatic tone, sure. "And you!" he says to Leon, "Don't you have something to live for? You might think not, but STANDING here...well sitting now, struggling against the darkness tells me that you DO. It might be hatred right now, and if that is what it takes, then USE it. Let it be your strength until you find your answer.." He says, and then to Maira. "So what, you were born here? Does that change who you are? What you want to do? Maybe it's the traveler in me talking, but...something tells me this only gives you a new quest." He looks to Rena, "You scoff hope, you say it makes people manipulatable...and perhaps your right. But it also gives them a power to overcome obstacles that they'd never be able to overcome without it. Tomorrow is what people want. It's what they strive for, maybe it brings ruin, maybe not." BGM Change: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYLq3mShLkg "And you." he says, right to the Emperor, "You underestimate people. It'll be your undoing." the mace comes to his hand, "So what now?!" he calls to Leon, to Maira, to Percival, "Are you just going to give up? Are you going to accept what is given to you because it's easier. Because it's safer? Or are you going to shape your own destinies?" "Now is the time of choice! Shape your futre, or accept the corrupted path this man gives to you."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus just watches impassively as Leon plops down into a seat across yet far away from him. Just as well. He ignores the shouts of protest, the fragile defense of a pricked pride, and simply waits for Leon to calm down. To think. But he already knows--one who would lay down their life for the sake of family, even when it doesn't work, will always do so again. A martyr seeking his end. That is all Leonhart has proven to be, time and time again, and so he is right now. His attention diverts to Maira, who just takes a seat on the throne room floor in stunned understanding. Who tries to simply pass off the hard decision of what should /she/ do onto someone else. He shakes his head in disappointment and begins to open his mouth, but then Angantyr steps in and delivers a blazing and quite frankly inspiring speech to them all. The Emperor actually looks downright, absolutely taken back. Completely surprised is such an understatement given the situation. Then, suddenly, a brilliant smile lightens his face. Not the mocking kind he is more predisposed towards, but... a true, genuine smile. That humanity he has not yet relinquished--Matthew, the royal entertainer. "Angantyr Vespar." He puts down his goblet and rises from his chair like a coeurl uncurling from its chosen perch. "How right you are. How so very right you are." He walks off to the side, folding his hands together at the small of his back, moving to full view of everyone. "I have not made, nor shall I make, any demands of any of you. All of you came here by /your/ own choice, and I will say again--if you wish to leave," he motions to the door from whence they came for emphasis, "you may do so with no fear of future retribution. If you wish to stay, I shall neither force your hand nor twist your arm." He sighs almost long-sufferingly but not condescendingly. "To be frank, if I had my way, I would keep Maira here to protect her--to SAVE what little of my world there is left from those who would see it gone--from the likes of Maleficent, Garland, ExDeath, and countless others. I protect what is mine, from my people to my land, and all of you have seen this for yourselves. But I WILL NOT force such a choice upon her." He spreads his arms wide. "I have given my information freely, no strings attached, but that is where my part ends in this discussion. YOU must decide what to do with it. YOU must be the ones to look deep within yourselves--yes, to your very heart--and CHOOSE." His mouth presses into a thin line as his keen gaze drills into each person in turn, boring into their very heart and soul. "A path in life means nothing unless it is your own."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' \ Leon glances over to Maira. She was asking him what to do now and he didn't have the slightest clue. His eyes drift over to her guardians. This was--- their call. Not his. All he could say was simply a sad one. "..Follow your heart.." Then Rena's words cut in and they cut like a sharp sword. Piercing him right through. It causes his eyes to shut tightly. His teeth to grit and just slump from where he sits. He did care about her and what she stated, so true, was-- a deep cut right through him. Rena herself may have just become Mateus' ultimate weapon against Leon. Weather she realizes this or not. Her honesty was.. not really what Leon wanted to hear. Though Angantyr's words were one to expire too. They were brave. Heroic. Honorable. Probably not something the man honestly cares to be and if Leon felt he had a path to follow, they would be something of great hope and strength, but instead. They mean nothing to him right now. 'TAKE MY LIFE!' 'You took theirs! NOW TAKE MINE!' "..but my heart is not ready.." He says softly, and then stands up. His eyes seem to just be glassed over. Almost like no one was there any more. "..Not ready to accept these facts or to face the reality of where my life is." He then starts to walk away from the group towards Mateus. "I was honored to meet you all. To give me something to hold onto.. but.. my life.. my life lies in the darkness with those gone. Because what is the point of living with anger.. when that is all life has become. Anger. That-- isn't living." He comes to a stop a few more steps away from Mateus, he stares at him, those eyes narrow and some spark does come back in those eyes. "..and I will, however, never forgive you for what you done, but I know my blade can't return back the dead. I can't undo time by killing you. So you win, Mateus. You win." He then lowers his head, before he turns to face Maira once more, his eyes look over to Rena with that painful look, till they go back to Maira once again. He stares at her with hopelessness in his eyes. "Maybe some day," He then looks at Ang. "..I can look at this world with the strength you have, but I can't. Not now. Not until.." He doesn't even finish those words, but only turns away. This choice may be even created by Mateus own words. Either way. It seems that Leon wasn't ready to face the world yet. He wasn't ready to come out and be the hero he could become. To be the man he once was. The one who 'fathered' nearly his own sister and his friends-- friends he adopted in as family. He wasn't for that responsibility again with a new world. He wasn't ready to put those skills at work again. He just-- wasn't. Maybe one day.. one day when he could look himself in the face and tell himself to stand up straight. To face the world and his charges. Just-- not now. Not now.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira looks toward Rena, frowning deeply. She wants to scream for the woman to just /shut up/. "I may not be as smart as you but that does not give you a reason to talk down to me. To any of us. So stop it." Maira gets to her feet again, her eyes turning toward Angantyr. "Angan, I still don't know what that means but I am /not/ giving up," she says. Wait, he has his sights on an Emperor? What? Angan, what trouble are you getting into now! Maira still has so many questions. Angantyr has summoned his weapon though, and that means he is ready to fight. He doesn't trust Mateus. Mateus is a Shadow Lord, of course he can't be trusted...right? But does he want to see his world fall? Does he want to gain favor with Maleficent? Could he protect them from Garland? And so, that is exactly what he offers. The offer is tempting. Maira thinks of all the people she cares about who have been hurt because they were protecting her. People who would die. Gods damn Souji Murasame, his words haunt her still. Mateus would keep her safe. A bird in a cage, the Dark Knight her guardian. "No..." she says as Leon walks toward Mateus, tears rising. "NO! Leon! NO! You don't have to do this!" she yells. She'd asked him what he wanted...and what he wanted was to put his pain back into oblivion. Maira clenches her fists, glaring toward Mateus, glaring toward Rena. "You have not won. That you want to protect your world is admirable, but it isn't love that motivates you, is it? It's power! You don't want the world to fall because you want to possess it! No...no, I'm leaving." "Leon....Leon come with me, PLEASE!" she begs.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena smiles around the rim of her goblet, raising a silent toast to Mateus as Leon goes over to join him. She then looks over at Angantyr and raises the goblet again to him. "Well said." she says, and there is a moment of sadness in her voice before it is cleared away. She looks over at Leon for a long time, staring at the glassy eyed stare before finally looking away. "Well then. No funeral dirge. No rousing call to action. This is a happy time. Friends gathered together and being supportive of eachother, even in desolation. " She laughs quietly and gives Maira a sympathetic smile. "I am treating you as an adult, my dear. You knew where this was going, but you tucked in your heels and drug in because fairytales told you that everything would be alright. You still flail and thrash, the princess coddled by innumerable guardians who keep the world at bay for you. Well wake up, Maiden of Light. You could have thrown this tantrum at any time, but you wanted answers. And you were willing to escort Leon to his doom for them. So do not presume to tell me that I am talking down to you. It's not true. I respect your choices. I just never agreed with them. We have all made our choices here, so let us raise a toast to those choices. May you live easily with the consequences." she then drains the goblet and pours herself another.

:'''[[Angantyr Vespar]] has posed:''' Angantyr shakes his head.. "Your choice." he says, "You...choose your own path. Your path being slavery." He says, and stands next to Maira. If Maira chooses to leave, then he'll make sure she leaves. He eyes the people infront of him. He shrugs towards the Emperor, "You say that." he says, not trusting him a single bit. Then he looks at Rena. "Damn." he says, like...just staring at her. "I can't <GOOSEHONK>ing compete with that."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira rounds on Rena, her eyes blazing. "<GOOSEHONK> ing shut up Rena. I came because Leon asked me to, because he would have gone without me otherwise and you bloody know it. Yes I wanted answers, and /forgive me/ if my choices are not up to your high and mighty expectations. Forgive me for wanting a bit of TIME to think through decisions that will influence I don't even know how many people because the WORLD decided to put a world shard in my heart or whatever this all means!" Maira begins walking toward Rena now, her magic igniting around her. "I'm awake Rena, and those who came to protect me--I didn't ask them to but I value their opinion because that is what /friends/ do. Friends do not sit back and LAUGH as someone they supposedly care about has a moment of weakness, like WE ALL do!"

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena shakes her head and raises her hands. "Apologies, Maira. I did not mean to besmirch your tender feelings or assail the high walls of your delusions. Perhaps this is a conversation for another day however, as a fireworks show after a nice dinner would be a little much." she gestures to a seat at the table. "Come and sit with me and explain what being a friend means to you. Perhaps we are having a simple miscommunciation, for which, if that is the case, I will apologize." she looks at Leon. "Listen to your princess, Leon. Leave this place, if you can. You gave your name to this sorceror by accident once. If you truely hate being in his service so terribly, then do not give it to him a second time willingly. Better a willing soldier and general than an unwilling thrall."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' With their backs to the wall, with all the facts laid out to bare and with nobody to turn to but themselves, everything becomes crystal clear. People /do/ look deep into their hearts and respond exactly as he suspected. But there is no gloating, not even a shred of satisfaction from the Emperor of Palamecia. Perhaps... for even just one of them, he was honestly hoping otherwise. Strength of heart for some, weak of will for others. But he will honor his words--their choices are their own, and he will not keep them here if it is not their choice to stay. He simply inclines his head to Leon in acknowledgement. "As you wish, but you can still choose otherwise if you have even the most lingering of doubts." Mateus turns his gaze to Maira as she rages at himself and Rena. "Love... power... is there a difference? The point is simple: I care enough about my home world to make sure nothing else happens to it, Maira, whatever my personal motivation may happen to be. Why does the point that I'm a Shadow Lord seem to change the context or even matter?" He watches the spat between Maira and Rena, his chin lifting defiantly, that royal air now in full view when he has been playing nice up to this point. "Enough of this!" His voice somehow thunders in the great hall. Magically amplified? Or just that loud when he wants to be? "Emotional debates solve nothing. If it is your choice, it is your path, and nothing anyone says or does should affect that." His expression becomes... something else. Wounded, betrayed? Sad, even? Impossible to tell, as it's a whole roil of emotion, one bleeding into the next. "But perhaps..." His voice trails off and he seems to think better of continuing. "No, it does not matter." He returns to the other side of the table, but pauses to focus solely on Angantyr. "Former Acolyte of Garland, Angantyr Vespar... it seems clear to me that if Maira leaves here, you will protect her with your life if need be. Such is the path you have chosen, and I truly do respect your convictions. But know this: if you cannot protect her any longer," his voice hardens to all dead seriousness, "then I shall."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Leon stares at Maira as she begs for him to not make his choice. Yet he has, he then goes to step toward her, but he stops. He just looks at her. All he can see of her is her light. Her whole form drenched by the brightness of her light. "Maira." He says softly. "If you find her. Protect her and feel free to browse what I gave you at leisure." The Rena goes and does her thing. It was always hard to argue with Rena. She was pretty much the Ice Queen of Damn Straight. You couldn't get around here, even mister mace wielding dark knight kinda admits this. Yet Maira suddenly goes off and she lights up the room with her magic, in her own temper. Leon has to cringe a little at the sudden /brightness/ of it all. He almost steps back. Then Rena counter-objects and Leon snorts softly in her direction. "Like that matters. My heart will be locked again, memories stored away, and once more my body does what it does, the essence of what is needed does what it needs to do, and I become a great weapon for use. If anything-- probably even more sharpened then I was the first time." "Maybe even it.. I.. may learn some compassion." Doubtful really, but it was a nice touching add on. Mateus then tells Leon he can change his mind and the former Dark Knight almost has the ignition to jump over to where Mateus was moving himself and punch the living crap out of him. But again, it was anger. It was always anger. Anger just-- wasn't something he wanted to live on. Leon however closed his eyes before he suddenly grit his teeth. Then suddenly went down on one knee about this point. "..Maira.. make your choice now.." Leon says through grit teeth. The darkness is covering his form suddenly. His hands clawing at the ground, as he lowers his head. "..because... I don't.. want to hurt you.." He says suddenly as he seems to refuse to look up at her. Remember that tick tock? Well the clock just stopped ticking.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira shakes her head at Rena. "You're not even able to talk to people as people, are you? Even your apologies are condescending with thinly failed insults," she replies, then turns from her back to Mateus and Leon. She doesn't care what Mateus thinks of her. If she is playing into his expectations, fine. Let him have his victory. She isn't going to rebel just to surprise him. Rebellion for the sake of rebellion is pointless. "Yes Emperor, there is a difference. The fact that you are a Shadow Lord tells me that you are willing to play with the lives of people--to destroy because you can. You believe that Might makes Right, is that the saying? You DESTROYED this man's life!" she says, pointing to Leon. "You stand there and tell him he has a choice, but you've been arranging the pieces for so long, so well, that he never knew what was happening! Your choice is an illusion!" she continues, blazing with fury. Maira looks to Leon as he kneels before her, her heart breaking for him. She reaches toward the pocket of her cloak where the journal rests. Find her. Keep her safe. Maria. "I will Leon. I will do what I have to do to prove to you that your life is still worth living--freely," she says. She can see the pain in him. He's on the edge. He'll revert back and then, who knows? "I'm leaving. But I will be back for him," she says, indicating Leon. Then Maira turns and starts walking toward the exit door, not looking at anyone. Here they are. All that, and Leon would be the Dark Knight again. It is temporary. She will get him back.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena claps very, very slowly. (Acheivement: Slow Clap) and then she goes back to eating and drinking. She takes a handful of grapes from the table, pulling each one of them off at a time and looking in Leon's direction with a measure of quiet thoughtfulness. And at last.. She is the one who stayed until the end. That is good enough for her, no matter what anyone says. "My apologies, emperor Mateus. It seems the theatre troupe has picked up stakes and left. But they will be back..." she sighs. "I have no doubts of that."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Suddenly, the air around Rena goes cold as the grave. Uist appears, towering above her, almost as tall as Angantyr. He manifests just enough to reach out and bitch smack Rena hard across the face, then disappears. Maira doesn't turn around, just keeps walking.

:'''[[Angantyr Vespar]] has posed:''' Angantyr watches Maira walk off. He pauses for a moment, looking to Rena. "Oh about that drink. I don't drink with <GOOSEHONK>s. Later." he says, and turns around.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus does not react, not seemingly terribly surprised, as Uist appears just long enough to take a slap at Rena. Probably also steal some dinner rolls. He always seemed to be on the verge of a doting father, before unfortunate turns of events determined a different fate. "A pity," he murmurs to himself as Maira, Angantyr, and the silent Gargoyle take their leave. "But I mean what I say. If she cannot be protected, if she cannot protect herself from harm... then it will matter little her choice if she has no will to see it through... or if my realm is affected." He shakes his head, disappointment clear, then turns his gaze back to Leon. "Very well then." His staff appears in his hand as the doors close behind the leaving group. They would find themselves completely free with none to bar their path or even give them a second glance as they depart. "Let us begin."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Maira and them have left, beyond Rena who seems to be enjoying the food. So when Mateus moves up to Leon. All the former Dark Knight can do is barely look up at him. He stares at that staff and then back at the ground. "Get it over with.. we already know this song and dance.. and I already know your going to lock this part of me away.." Leon then closes his eyes. "..so lets do this.. your majesty.." he almost sneers out the majesty part.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus frowns. No, /this/ is nothing to gloat over, no matter what anyone believes to the contrary. Not over this wreck of a young man. And he could have been so much... more. "Such a pity..." He murmurs again before lifting the arm holding his staff, a purplish magical circle appearing beneath his feet and under Leon's. His eyes darken to a blacklight-like purple, softly chanting words only he understands, and he brings the staff down.

Diplomatic Alliance

2013-06-22T01:31:40Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/05/17 |Location=Castle Palamecia |Synopsis=Alliances between countries is nothing new. But when two countries inclined to Darkness meet, what ..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/05/17
|Location=Castle Palamecia
|Synopsis=Alliances between countries is nothing new. But when two countries inclined to Darkness meet, what will happen?
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus, Kuja
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Castle Palamecia has been prepared to receive invited dignitaries from Alexandria, with banners unfurled into the wind and the entire land brought up to their best. Soldiers and officers take their posts while the townsfolk go about their business, and even the Emperor has seen fit to dress in his royal black-and-purple robes for the occassion. The procession would be led through the castle right to a pair of large doors that swing wide open upon their approach, revealing the throne room. Brightly lit by torchlight, guards stand at attention while the Emperor of Palamecia sits upon his throne with perfect poise, his lavender gaze focusing on their guests without a single change in expression. The Palamecian crier calls, "My Emperor, presenting Advisor Kuja of Alexandria, on behalf of Her Majesty Queen Brahne of Alexandria."

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' His entourage was small, and consisted only of himself, and two of his creations. Black mage dolls, with their conical straw hats, and soulless yellow eyes, examples of his artistry. One of them was carrying a scroll case, and looked like a strange sort of herald for the flamboyant diplomat, the other had a velvet pillow, upon which was an ornate wooden box, barely larger than a man's hand. He'd arrived at the Castle at the appointed time, had awaited his audience with the Emperor patiently. Kuja actually appreciated the classical architecture of the Palamecian castle, it reminded him very much of Alexandria. What it lacked in a certain flair, it more than made up in its less pretentious opulence. Brahne had no sense of subtlety about her. Once he was announced, the man would thread the corridor of guards as he entered the throne room, at a deliberate pace. Once he was close enough, he would cross his legs, before bowing with one hand across his chest, and the other spread out behind his back dramatically, remaining bent at the waist as he greeted him. When he spoke to him, there was nothing derisive in his tone. Kuja rarely spoke in this way to anyone, other than Garland. Even to Brahne's face, he was sometimes subtly mocking. "Your Imperial Majesty, I would like to express what a great honor it is to be granted this audience. It might be presumptuous of me to say so, but I hope that it might be the first of many between us." And then he fell silent, waiting for the Emperor's leave to speak again.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus' gaze is keen as he watches Kuja enter, evaluating everything from the man's appearance to every single move he makes. It is not hostile or judgemental, but the look of one who never ceases to learn. He inclines his head gracefully in return to Kuja's greeting, a small smile playing at his lips. "'Tis not presumptuous at all. I have been extending the hand of diplomacy to many lands, and if this is but the first meeting, I look forward to future encounters." He motions for Kuja to straighten and relax in his presence. "I have heard scant news of Alexandria even on this distant land. I know you have held an alliance with Baron, though I know not if it still holds. I have also heard rumors of war beginning to build, but that is a topic I would like to hold for a moment." He folds his hands on his lap. "As before I progress further, I fear I know little of your people and of Alexandria itself. Would you grant me the honor of enlightening me?"

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' Once the Emperor motions for him to straighten, he does so without hesitation. Even so, the man appears to be flamboyant in demeanor and dress, using his hands expressively with each point. "Of course, your Imperial Majesty. But first, if you might indulge me, I would like to grant you.. two boons. One which befits the power of your station, and the other.. wisdom. Wisdom for your eyes alone." And at that he gestures theatrically to both members of his entourage. Both Black Mages would totter forward, standing in front of Kuja, but still at a safe distance from the throne that their approach would not be regarded as hostile, each holding up its gift. While he waited to see how the Emperor might react, he did answer his question. "Certainly. Alexandria is a realm of great beauty, ruled by her majesty Queen Brahne Raza Alexandros XVII. It was founded over eight hundred years ago from the wars that tore apart our progenitor nations, and has grown ever since. Our military is led by General Beatrix, a warrior who has never been bested in combat, or so it is said. Recently we found ourselves beset by treasonous plots by the sodden rats of Burmecia, and the crafty machinists of Lindblum. We extended our hand in friendship, only to find that our allies were vipers in disguise. They set into motion a plan to kidnap the realm's only heir, Princess Garnet til Alexandros. It was only right and proper that we avenged this slight by invading.. And then our world fell, but that is a tale so common, that I do not think I need to bore you with it. In the aftermath, her majesty realized that we require new allies, and indeed, we did extend our hand once more to Baron. It is an alliance that we hope will endure throughout the ages."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The gaze of the Palamecian Emperor falls heavy upon the black mage dolls as they toddle forwards, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes them. Such strange creatures these be, with faces of Heartless yet so... controlled. How so very intriguing. The explaination of Alexandria and their world is met with an understanding nod. "I understand all too well, I fear, as my dynasty stretching back generations beyond measure also fell victim to such a fall. My distant holding of Fynn borders Baron's lands in this world, and I would rather not make an enemy out of a neighbor and any they call ally. I must admit, the rumors of war as of late have made me rather uneasy." His focus next turns to the offered gifts, to the scroll case on one side and the ornate wooden box bedded on the velvet pillow on the other. His hands seperate and unfold, palms upraised as the two objects float into the air more equal to his own eye level for further scrutiny. "You have intrigued me, Ser Advisor, to offer power and wisdom in equal measure."

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' He would continue, by placing a slender hand to his mouth, with a single finger crooked up to his lips. "Alas, war may become a grim necessity. Already the sand rats plan to move against us. I can promise you that we have no desire to bring war to the borders of your empire. Our allies in Baron feel the same, and will not trouble your holdings in Fynn. Unfortunately there will always be.. dissenters, even in a realm like your own. Mayhaps an alliance by marriage might be considered, now that the heir to the throne has been returned to us...to ensure the continuation of your dynasty." And then a cordial smile would be upon his lips, as he sweeps his arm in the direction of both suspended objects. The two black mages totter back behind him, then grow still at attention. "It is only befitting that his Imperial Majesty receive such regal gifts. I only pray that they will be to your liking."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles softly at the suggestion of marriage to cement their alliance. "You are too kind, Ser Advisor, to honor me to such an extent. Perhaps such a discussion is best left to another time, once I have gained a greater appreciation for this world we both find ourselves in." He unlocks the scroll case first, the scroll itself unfurling to reveal its cursive writings. For just a moment, the Emperor's eyebrows rise before his chin dips as a pensive expression settles in place. Wordlessly, the scroll is returned into the box and set aside, only for a staff to suddenly conjure into being just beyond his fingertips. With a quick flick of his wrist, the staff leaps into the air before touching the floor between throne and Advisor, a purple magical circle encircling Advisor, black mage dolls, and a measure of floor around them. Emperor Mateus himself rises from his throne and levitates down to the floor, settling within the circle himself with the ornate box still hovering over his other hand. "I shant maintain this long." His tone has turned quiet and gravely serious. "Speak quickly and frankly, Ser Kuja, for I do not wish to invoke the ire of Lord Garland unnessisarily."

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' Kuja would straighten as he casts his spell, the purple circles not perturbing him in the slightest, his expression suddenly becoming more true to form. "Then let the curtains fall, for while dramatic irony has its place, I think an audience would be stifling in this case." He would actually grin at Mateus, a sort of macabre gesture that the Emperor would likely know too well. "...we're barely out of the prologue. Let us speak now upon the denouement."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' A magical dome forms over the group, the throne room falling silent as a conversation is held away from prying ears both physical and arcane. Minutes follow more minutes, until Mateus leaves the magical circle and floats back up to his throne. He retakes his seat and waves his hand, dispelling the staff and the magical circle it has generated, and interlaces his fingers in front of his face in deep thought. The ornate wooden box floats whimsically next to him, almost bumping one of the 'horns' at his head. "There is much to consider. Much yet to discuss. I would appreciate some time to clear my thoughts before we continue." He leans back in his throne, hands still interlaced in front of him. "There are quarters prepared for you and yours, Ser Advisor, and a meal besides. May I be safe in assuming your long trip has left you wearied?"

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' "The hospitality of his imperial majesty is legendary, I would be grateful for both repast and repose." His hand would be placed upon his chest, as he bows low once more.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Hours pass as Kuja's entourage is given the opportunity to rest and relax from their long trip, even receive a meal. Any reasonable request is granted, and it is quite clear that the waiting staff of Palamecia has been given standing orders to tend to whatever their guests need without being obtrusive. Meanwhile, Emperor Mateus has retreated back to his private quarters to evaluate matters. To examine the gift, to survey a map drafted in the time since the World of Ruin was formed. Pondering option and expectation alike, usually staring out the window that happens to overlook the Palamecian village far below and towards the distance. News like this is troubling, even in the best of times. The meeting had originally taken place in the late morning, and it is not until the sun is nearly completely hidden by the Palamecian peaks that Emperor Mateus returns to his throneroom, his expression pensive but unworried. "Messenger," he states as he retakes his throne, interlacing his fingers under his chin while pressing his thumbtips against his chest. "Please pass word to Advisor Kuja that I am ready to resume our conversation at his earliest convenience."

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' The rest of Kuja's entourage.. would likely be unnerving in any other country. They didn't speak, they didn't take repast, or repose. But sometimes they stared.. with those soulless yellow eyes, the rest of their visage darkened by the shadows of their conical straw hats. Kuja was the very picture of a model guest while in Palamecia. He made idle small talk with the retainers, was suitably witty when he desired to be, charming at other times. He was well practiced at the game in Court. He just found it insufferably boring most of the time. Especially when he was a guest in a country where he couldn't at least allow his narcissistic tendencies to show, even a little. It felt stifling. As always, he kept his eye on the prize. And so when he was summoned once again to stand before the Emperor, he answered immediately. Approaching the throne, the flamboyant 'Alexandrian' diplomat once again bowed, bending slightly at the knees, one hand over his chest, the other outspread behind his back. It had all the theater of an exaggerated courtly bow in it, but didn't appear mocking. He let the flowery words roll right off his tongue, "Your Imperial Majesty, I would like to express once again what a great honor it is that I should be summoned into your presence..." And then he would remain in his current position, waiting for his leave to rise.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus inclines his head and parts his hands just long enough to motion for Kuja to rise. "You honor me greatly, Advisor Kuja. No need to bow your head a second time, as we are merely resuming where we had left off, are we not?" A thin smile graces his lips, honest and warm but restrained. He has little love for pomp and circumstance himself to this extent, but decorum must be maintained for all sides. "I have thought carefully of all you have brought to my attention, from your generous gifts," a hand rises to the side, producing the small wooden box from earlier, "to the wealth of information you have shared." His other hand rests on his throne's armrest. "My personal goal has not changed: I still wish for an alliance that would make allies of us all. The news you bring of pending war, however, is very troubling to hear." He leans back on his throne, his tone serious but not unfriendly. In fact, it is almost casual, as if Kuja is his own advisor. "I have spent much time and effort stablilizing not only this continent in particular, but also rebuilding my manpower and resources to even a fraction of their former glory. T'would be a pity if such work went to waste, yet I despise the thought of spurning your goodwill visit however unintentionally." His head cants to the side, his keen lavender eyes focusing solely on Kuja. "I would like to hear your thoughts on such matters, Ser Kuja, if I may be so bold to ask such a thing from an esteemed guest?"

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' "Your Imperial Majesty is most gracious.." And with that, he straightened his back so quickly that it was like he had never bent it in the first place. After all, Emperor Mateus wasn't a fool, he knew the game that Kuja was playing. "I wouldn't consider it bold at all.. merely prudent. War is on the horizon. And while her Majesty has no desire to make enemies of Palamecia, I admit to the possibility that war might come to your borders, inadvertently. Baron is still in alliance with us and it's borders are perilously close to Fynn.. Our enemies are numerous, and who can say what strategems they might employ in their misguided attempt to lay us low?" He would place a hand to his chin, one finger curled upward to his upper lip, "If your Imperial Majesty has no desire for such an alliance which might drag you into our conflict, then I believe I can speak for her Majesty to say that she will be disappointed, but that does not mean she need withdraw her offered hand of friendship. I recommend that you further secure your borders. If you'd like, I can even.. offer you my aid, in that. Several regiments of Alexandria's famed Black Mages can be delivered to Fynn.. suitably altered so that you need not worry about recognition of Alexandrian forces in your midst. They will obey the commands of your Palamecian Knights without question. Consider it another small token of my..." The flamboyant diplomat would smile once again, "...gratitude."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus listens carefully, his gaze unwavering and evaluating every word spoken as it travels the air between them. It is neither hostile nor neutral, the warmness in expression more of a casual after-effect of earlier conversing. His expression is not so much unguarded as simply... well, is. No trickery, no signs of visibly hiding anything, but there isn't really much there to read into. He keeps his silence until Kuja finishes, a low but thoughtful hum barely keeping an utter void of sound from falling between them in such a large room. "Indeed. The situation of Fynn's placement prevents me from turning a blind eye to the war front, and rebellious forces both within and without may unnecessarily destabilize my last foreign holding." He closes his eyes for a moment, long fingernails tapping thoughtfully on the armrests while the wooden box continues to pensively float and spin at about his own eye-level. "Palamecia is a prideful land, and we do not take advantage of such generosity as Alexandria's without returning the favor. I shall accept your gift of Black Mages to support my troops in Fynn, and in return I will issue support to Alexandrian and Baron forces to the best of my abilities if it is required. Given the circumstances for the both of us, and with the understanding that my country is the least technologically advanced of the three, 'tis the best I can promise with matters as they stand now." He folds his hands over his abdomen. "Would this be pleasing to her Majesty?"

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' Kuja wouldn't even try to read into Mateus' features. Right now.. this was all a superficial game. He hardly cared about the movements of a few regiments of soldiers. He didn't even care if they were ultimately betrayed by Mateus, even though he didn't think the Emperor of Palamecia would... The entire war effort was just a sham after all. A master plan by a demigod of Chaos to cause maximum destruction, to reap the greatest number of souls for his twisted plot. Garland would likely be displeased that Palamecia would have little role in the coming conflict, but what did Kuja care? He could simply say to Garland that Emperor Mateus was not so easily tempted into war. The advisor would stroke his chin briefly, feigning deep consideration of this request, before eventually smiling, to mark him coming to a decision. "Her Majesty would be greatly pleased by this token of Palamecia's good will. Were our situations reversed, we could only offer the same, Alexandria is a very proud nation as well.. and in return, when the City of Lindblum.. sees reason, we shall send some of it's greatest engineers and architects to Palamecia. That should rectify the problem, if it pleases your Imperial Majesty to allow such advancement as a result of our good will?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles softly, a soft 'fufufu' sound that may end up being his trademark sooner than later. "I would certainly be willing to consider such an offer once events fall into place accordingly. Self-sufficient my people may pride themselves on being, but there are limits. To be left behind by allies and enemies alike due to narrow-minded foolishness is a grave error I refuse to allow." He rises to his feet, easily plucking the box out of the air and beginning a slow descent down the stairs one step at a time. He knows quite well this entire conversation is just a show, a private song-and-dance play to appease unseen masses, but he has proven to be an adept actor as of late himself. Besides, if none else, this has proven to be quite refreshing, as diplomatic theatre has been few-and-far between as of late. "If we have ourselves a concord, perhaps you would like to join me for an evening banquet to celebrate?" He smiles warmly, holding the box in his hand as if it is made of fine glass. "I believe an opportunity to enjoy friendly company and unwind would be welcome after such stiff discussion."

:'''[[Kuja]] has posed:''' It already is his trademark, courtesy of the battle of Traverse Town! Kuja even watched the whole thing on Mognet with an expensive glass of brandy. ...He had a feeling that bringing up the Luso Clemens kid in response to his /fufufufufufu/ was not the greatest idea. It was an entertaining thought, to be shelved in the back of his mind. "I'm quite certain they will fall into place sooner, rather than later. It is only a matter of time before the...Ooglop Regent acquiesces." And then there was soft laughter coming from Kuja's throat as well, as he raked a hand back through his perfumed locks of hair. "Your Imperial Majesty, is gracious as always. I accept, your offer, and am most honored and humbled by the opportunity to dine at your table..." Kuja would smile as he looked at the Box. The two of them knew that..more than anything else, that might be Mateus' greatest weapon in securing his borders, should the need arise..

Endless Vigil

2013-05-19T02:28:33Z

Gridkeeper: Fixing formatting errors

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/26
|Location=Fluorgis - City
|Synopsis=Maira tries to get away from the Dark Knight, finds herself locked in a tower surrounded by Guardians.
|Cast of Characters=Deidra, Riku, Katyna, Avira, Maira, TRON, Percival, Ulharisk
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' /EARLIER/ A masked demonic figure breaks into a pharmacy in Manhatten. Leaves more money than by all rights any of the medication is worth, including the damages, with an apology letter, then leaves before the police sirens blare too close. Don't look at him like that people! Lawmakers were short-sighted not to include Gargoyles in prescription laws. /NOW/ He's gliding close to Fluorgis, with Maira drowsing in his arms in a daze and a satchel of equipment draped over his arm. Every time she looked like she was falling asleep, he'd gently prevent it by saying something or gently tapping her with the back of his hand, just because he didn't want her to burst into flames in mid-flight. "It won't be long now, Maira. Just a little further.."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira yawns, but she did get some sleep in the bath tub at least. She thinks she can stay awake, really! "I'm okay Perci, really...really, I slept some in the tub," she reminds him. Not the most comfortable sleep in the world but she would take what he could get at this point. Maira rests her head against his chest, enjoying the flight even now. There was nothing else like this. If she could fly she'd do it all the time. Her heart felt lighter. While she'd slept in the tub, she'd actually had a bath, too, which went a long way toward making her feel more human at least!

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd shake his head, not really believing her. "Uh-Uh. You need a good night's sleep, Maira. I'm putting my foot down here. You can go search for Angantyr once you're not so exhausted." Eventually he'd touch down on the side of the watch tower. /Now/ there was a mattress inside, with clean sheets, a blanket, and a pillow set up for guests. He'd walk down the first flight of stairs, ranging closer to it, before setting her down on her feet and furling his wings. He'd then put down the satchel. "Now we're going to try something different.. medicine which will help you sleep, no magic involved." He'd start to fish out the bottle of pills, before removing some of the medication he's more familiar with. He'd then open a drug book, his talons scratching the pages as he looks for the proper dose, tapping the page. "Alright, take two of these to start, it'll be safe." He'd then remove two from the bottle, before holding them out with an outstretched palm, while digging out a bottle of water from the satchel as well.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira wobbles a little once she's put down, but that could be disorientation from flying as much as it was sleep deprivation! "I know...I probably won't even be able to find him yet. He was really hurt, he'll...probably be laying low for a bit," she says quietly, taking the pills and the water. She makes a face at them, then shrugs and swallows them, washing them down with a few gulps of water. "I hope this works...just um, keep a bucket near the bed, just in case," she says with a sigh. "I don't know why its so out of control again..."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "He will be, yes, all the more reason for you to take the oppurtunity for some sleep." He'd take a moment to regard her, before smiling. "Look, Maira.. Angantyr, sometimes he can be a.. jerk, but he doesn't seem like the sort of person that would do this to his friends without a good reason. I'll help you find him, even if noone else will." A pause as she asks him to keep a bucket. "Oh don't worry, I actually have a fire extinguisher downstairs. I'll bring it up later. Works well, its just.. messy." And then when she speaks on it being out of control, he'd walk up and embrace her with his arms and his wings. "Look, a good friend of yours did this to VALKYRI, and a mysterious dark knight is tormenting you. It's no suprise that your emotions are running a little haywire. Noone blames you for it."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira has cried many times since the incident with Angantyr at VALKYRI, usually out of despair. But as Perci tells her that he will help her look for him, she tears up because of his kindness. "Thank you...because no one else will," she replies. She couldn't ask Avira, she certainly couldn't ask Faruja or Katyna. She was prepared to go it alone. Maira gulps and steps into his embrace. "I guess so...I hope that is all it is," she answers. Yes, it wasn't just the thing with Angantyr, though that had been the final straw. The Dark Knight was still out there, and she knew she still had to deal with him. He was still watching her. Maira takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. "I feel like I've just...unraveled. I'm sorry, I'm coming to really rely on you."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd actually raise the back of his hand to dry her tears. "I.. well, I'll be honest. I suppose its in part because I wasn't as personally involved. I wish I'd been there, so I could have helped, I just don't know when I'm going to be asleep or awake anymore. I used to despise Angantyr, I'll be honest, but as I met more of his friends I realized that he can't be as terrible a person as I thought he was. And if you believe in him, I'll do so too, for your sake." A thoughtful pause. "You'll be safe here, I doubt /he/ will be able to find you. While you're asleep I'll take your linkpearl elsewhere, then retrieve it once you've slept, just in case he can track it. Does that sound fair?" He'd actually manage a wan smile. "You shouldn't come to rely on me. I tend to be unreliable in a pinch. But if you need me.. I'll always be there."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' The mage smiles softly, closing her eyes as she feels his hand wipe away her tears. "He's...he can be very...prickly," she agrees. She remembered their conversation about how he didn't have many friends. Now...now he may not have /any/. But if she could help him... Maira nods then and takes her linkpearl, handing it to Perci. "Right, maybe he can...I probably should have chucked the thing...but what if I need to find him? I could use it too," she remarks. When he says he's unreliable, Maira crosses her arms. "Nonsense! You are the most reliable. I know you can't do anything when you are stone but....whenever you're awake, you're always there for your friends. For me." Maira wonders when the sleeping pills will kick in, and decides maybe she should at least sit on the bed in case she just...rapidly falls unconscious! She doesn't know how these things work. "Heh...I should just rent myself out to power the fire-powered airship here, make some extra gil..." she says, remembering back. "Were you there for that? I can't remember."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Percival had taken Maira in the middle of the night. How did Ulharisk know this? Because he was on his way back to the hotel when he saw the two leave. So what does the Draconian do? Simple. He follows from a distance. He follows, tracks, and keeps up without being seen. Yet eventually you are going to mess up. Eventually-- he does. Suddenly there was a crash from above. An ouf. A thump, and then rolling down on his backside a few steps was, well, Ulharisk. Laying there, with his hand slowly extending up before softly going, "...I.. am ok.." Then his hand flops back down by his side. Don't ask how he got up there. He may never tell you.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "He can be. Which is why I'm keeping my distance unless you're there. I don't know that he won't be looking to cave my head in for.. Evja." He didn't want to go into it though, he wasn't /afraid/ of Angantyr's reprisal, he fully understood it, he just didn't think he would be able to fight back if it came to it, especially if Maira were there. He'd palm the linkpearl, nodding. "I'll keep it safe.. I don't understand why you'd want to look for him, but.. I trust that you have a good reason for it." And he wouldn't abuse that trust, he'd just.. use the linkpearl for a while. He'd arch a bony protrusion just above his eyes, his smile still wan. "That's not what I meant, though I thank you for your faith in me, I just wonder if its sometimes misplaced." "No, I wasn't here for that.. but.." And then as Maira is telling him the story of the fire-powered airship, Ulharisk crashes. While he was on edge, he at least recognized that voice. He'd motion for Maira to stay here, while he walks up the stairs, with arms crossed, a bemused smile on his expression as he looked upon the fallen Draconian, before holding out a hand to assist him in rising. "If I'd known we were going to have other guests, I'd have put the kettle on...Well met, Sir."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk looks upside down at Percival and gives a sheepish smile. "I-- saw you two leaving and decided to tag along. I-- was getting a bit tired of the place with no light." He then reaches up and takes Percival's hand to get back up once more. The draconian then brushes himself off and looks around the structure. "I saw the signs, but I figured I would-- take the top direction." He glances up. "..I probably should have come through the door." He rubs the back of his neck. "Is-- is she doing alright? Maira that is."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' "What about Evja? Another person Angantyr really loathes..." she sighs. "Oh well, there were problems with the fire crystal. It went out when we were on the ship, but Ivo had this fossil thing and he thought it needed fire to burst it open and activate its magic so I used my fire and WOOSH the fire crystal powered back up before we could crash--and in the fossil was a /world shard/!" she tells him. Then, Ulharisk crashes in and Maira gasps. "Ulharisk! Are you okay!?"

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd respond to Ulharisk first before he descended. "Strangely enough, I tire of it as well from time to time. A place without the sun feels so.. unnatural." A strange sentiment for a creature of the night, but the sun guided the cycle of his sleep and waking of his kind so much that the sun was typically welcomed as a /friend/ despite the inconvenience. He'd shake his head. "Its best that you did climb up here, the stairs below have crumbled away at certain points, noone can get up from the bottom floor yet." He'd gesture towards Maira idly with a claw, as he asked how she was. "Well enough, but she needs her sleep. I thought I'd bring her here for some privacy." He held the linkpearl idly in his closed palm. Yes, she definitely needed privacy, and he intended to see that she got it. He'd give Maira a sheepish look when she spoke about Evja. "Well, you remember that time that Angantyr was unconscious, and I was holding him up.. and Evja was about to kill Mercade. Well, bludgeoning Evja over the head with Angantyr's unconscious body to stop him isn't exactly going to endear me to the man." He'd nod as she explains the fire crystal. "Well, huh, that makes sense. Fire powering a fire crystal. But a world shard inside of a fossil? I'm.. sometimes I wonder if whatever divine force guides the shards to their locations has a sense of humor."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk hears Maira's voice and gets even more sheepish look on his face. He glances off to the side with his violet eyes before he looks back at Percival. "I guess that is a yes?" Soon Ulharisk moves down to join where Maira was, nodding to Percival explaining she will need her privacy. He can't blame her. That fight-- That fight was not enjoyable. He looked between Percival then to Maria. He mostly found himself leaning against the wall and falling silent as the two talked. He had very little, well, honestly he had /nothing/ to add, as he still didn't get this world.. or even the one he somehow followed them into. Such a curious place-- at least here there was a MOON. Even though he would have rather see the sun. There was a sun here right?

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' "Well I'm not asleep yet, but hopefully I will be soon," she answers, flashing Ulharisk a gentle smile. "I'm glad you're doing alright--I'm sorry you got caught up in the mess. It is....very complicated. M-maybe Perci can tell you more after I'm asleep..." she says, obviously not up to talking about it herself. Maira looks back to Perci, laughing a little. "I guess so...but at least we know where one more shard is, and that's better than nothing."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd nod to her. "Sooner than you think, if what I understand about it is true." He'd nod to Ulharisk. "If you wouldn't mind, during daylight, would you take a shift guarding her? My people are.. inert, when the sun is up."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk looks over to Maira and gives a nod. "Tis be fine." He waves his hand off to the side. "Besides, I was glad I was there to be honest. You and," he motions over to Percival, "he, are the only ones I have any connections to in this world. Sadly, not many are willing to give answer and by the light do I have a ton of questions that need them." He grunts in some frustration to this. "After all, if I do find any of my people, someone will have to be willing to answer their questions and I be a horrible leader if I had none to give." He shrugs softly. "But you should sleep. You need it." He then looks to Percival and gives a nod. "Of coarse. I would be honor to do so for you and for her." He cants his head to the side. "Though odd that such a people would be awaken during the moon. For my own people, such a place of darkness was reserved for Guardian watch over our city and to make sure monsters of the darkness did not get over our walls." He blinks and places up his hands. "Though I assure you. I do not see you as such!" Better to make sure that was clear, he wasn't sure how sensitive such a subject would be after all. "But yes. Yes. I would be honored to watching her during the rising and setting of the sun."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd actually give the Draconian an affectionate grin. "You know, I felt the same way when I came to this.. world. Once she's asleep, I'll answer all the questions you have before my.. forced repose." And then a moment later. "Well, that's a daunting task. Perhaps you can tell me more of your people so that I might know where to look for them?" And then another nod, at Ulharisk. "Thank you. I'm.. vulnerable during daylight. I'm unable to protect her, its maddening to be a guardian who is unable to do anything for half the hours of a cycle. And yes, it is passing odd. My people are creatures of the /night/ though, not the darkness. It is a distinction I'm coming to learn all too well.." He'd clasp a hand on his shoulder gently in a gesture of comraderie. "Then I'm glad that you're here. She certainly needs all the protection she can get."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' This is really all terribly embarrassing. Needing someone to watch you sleep? An honor to guard her? What kind of crazy world was this? Maira is certainly feeling a good degree of...fuzziness. Her head feels sort of floaty, and her body far away. Her mind was stubborn though, and she hadn't passed out yet. She fears she'll catch fire again, or that the nightmares will come, or that she'll miss something terribly important while she's out. So many things to worry about! Maira blinks, slowly, then kind of flops backward onto the bed. "...don't let me sleep....too long..." she mumbles, her eyes finally closing.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk gives a gentle nod to Percival. He doesn't actually say to much, but when Maira indicates she is about to fall off to sleep. He motions to Percival that he was going upstairs that way Maira could sleep in some since of privacy and they could talk without waking her up. Once he got up to the other floor he sat down on the ground and rested his head back against the wall. Looking up at a spider web next to his head. He raised and eye brow as the spider stared at him. For now, he ignored the spider. "As I stated when you found me on the beach, or when they," he motions to below where Maira sleeps. "..found me.. my world apparently was consumed by the dark monsters of Whe'ir.. and I suppose who ever the man was who may have been a servant of." He growls softly before staring up at the ceiling above. "But we are people of Light. We are the children of Mit'ir. Even if Whe'ir played some small part in our history. So if I could make it, so could the rest of my people. Just-- where is what I don't know or how long is another matter as well." He looks to Percival, "Yet if you were to find my people. They would be like me. They would seem like-- the humans, only with different features, some dark in scale color others even lighter. Some with black hair, some with green." He gently shrugs his shoulders. "..I suppose what.. would make us unique is... our hidden ability we all posses, yet not all of us have good control of it and others have never learned to master it. So I even suppose then, that would not be a great indicator." He snorts. "..Unless you threw one of us off a high structure. Then instinct would kick in to force the issue." He almost laughs. "..Though.. they may not be such a wise move."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' As Maira falls asleep, he'd actually take the makeshift blanket, tucking her in. Then before he went upstairs, he'd traipse down a few flights of stairs, before walking back up. He'd then place a very anachronistic looking fire extinguisher that he'd brought from Manhatten, and put it at the edge of the room. Only then did he follow Ulharisk upstairs. Following Ulharisk's gaze, he'c chortle softly as he looked at the spider web. "The place is.. a fixer upper, but Zia and I value our privacy." He'd nod his head in turn at his story. "Can you tell me what the creature who was leading these Heartless looked like? It is possible I've fought him before." He'd then nod his head. "My people.. we literally become stone during the daylight hours. In my world, our race is all but forgotten, except that certain buildings use statues carved vaguely in our likeness to ward away evil spirits. We have to conceal ourselves, lest we be wiped out. However, its in our nature to still be protectors, and guardians, even if others do not accept us." He'd then regard him with an intense gaze, as if memorizing all of his features. "If I see anyone of similar likeness, I'll try to direct them to you. I promise you that.." He'd grin affably at Ulharisk. "Well, then I'll keep that in mind. Though you need not worry, if all of your kind are like yourself, I don't ever see myself in conflict with any of you."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk smirks, seeming to get comfy where he sits. "Aye. My people are a honorable noble sort. We have never broken out into war among one another and we tend to value team work above all things. We live for one another and we die for one another. Though the guardians have the gift given to us by Xur'shio in order to help better protect us from the monsters that roamed our land... we never treated anyone any lesser then another." He then closes his eyes. "..and to sleep as a stone statue. That is rather interesting." He hrms softly in thought. "And I will make sure if I ever see such statues like you, to treat them with great respect and care." "Welp. If I am to protect her during the rising sun to setting sun. I will need to get some rest myself. Wake a two bells before you rest. That way I have enough time, hopefully, to fully awaken to be of use." He then seems to try to make himself more comfortable as he tries to doze off for some sleep.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Time passes for Avira. She had previously been in Traverse Town, attending to a number of things from restoration to preparation. She knew it hadn't been the end of the harassment from Garland, especially given her rather terse answer to Garland's "offers." Eschewing her usual transport by chocobo, Avira instead elects to take an airship since Fluorgis is one of the few cities that have their own airship port. After a little while, she eventually locates this tower that Percival had detailed to her privately. She'd taken care not to get followed either, using skills taught to her by Skoll long ago to spot whether or not she had a tail. Such a thing was necessary in Fluorgis due to the presence of Khamja, whom Avira had a bit of bad blood with in the past. Surely such a thing has blown over by now. The huntress paces at the base of the tower, gauging the height of the structure and considering scaling it herself. It certainly would be a good challenge and she's pretty convinced that she was fit enough to pull off such a feat. However...the other way she's supposed to get up there... Avira's already smiling at the thought. She taps her linkpearl and lets Percival know she's here.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "My people are the same. Its an anathema for us to even consider battling our own kind. Recently.. I encountered, one exception." He'd grimace, looking away wistfully. It was obviously not something he wanted to talk about. He'd give him a gracious smile at that, crossing his arms. "We would appreciate that. There are so few of us left, that it would seem.. such a waste, for any one of us to die in our sleep. We're less than a dozen, at last count.." And though it was a few hours before sunrise, he'd nod at him. "There is something I have to do. I will return soon. Thank you for your aid." Unfurling his wings, he would glide off into the distance. Not long after he'd return, and a few hours prior to the rising of the sun, he'd turn to stone. /LATER/ After the usual dramatic awakening for one of his kind, he'd heard Avira calling for him on the linkpearl. He'd glide gently down to the ground, before bending over, to allow her to climb onto his back. "Good evening Avira. Did you enjoy the trip? Wrap your arms around my neck, if it pleases you."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk was woken up and placed on guard duty. So he guarded and stayed up at the top of the tower mostly where he can watch everything below. After all, if one could not enter from below, then this was the area that must be most protected. The Draconian walked along the edges of the tower. His Glaive in hand, though the shaft of it was resting on his shoulder. His violet eyes ken on everything like a hawk. So when Avira showed up, he watched her closely, including when Percival awoken from his stone sleep in such an impressive display. It was pretty amazing. He though he recognized Avira and it seemed Percival went down to get her, so he continue to draw his gaze elsewhere. Staying alert and watching.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira meanwhile, continues to sleep and has /not/ caught fire. Apparently, the pills were a success! She sleeps like the dead, about as still as Perci in his stone sleep aside from the little twitches of her muscles and the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. The sleep was much needed.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "I did!" Avira smiles lightly, "I arrived via airship today. It's so much faster and...well, it's an /airship/." Percy is no doubt well versed in Avira's obsession with airships. Or maybe it's flying in general? She's all too happy to climb onto Percival's back and wrap her arms around his neck, grasping the wrist of her opposite hand to hold on. Avira is light on her own, but when her gear is added into that equation, she certainly is a bit heavier. Nothing that Percival cannot handle though. "Let's go. Up up and away~" Avira teases.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd laugh light-heartedly at her infectious enthusiasm in regards to airships. "Well, has Sarafina made any progress on her designs? You have one of your own coming after all..." With her on his back, he'd simply leap onto the stone wall of the tower, with talons that can easily puncture stone in his hands and feet allowing him to climb, while making his own handholds and footholds on the way. It only takes a few short seconds for him to climb the six stories of the old ruined watch tower. "Oh ho ho. Very funny. I suppose you'll be wanting me to wear a cape next? If so, I'd demand it be made standard issue for all members of VALKYRI." Once they were up, he'd let her climb off, before gesturing to Ulharisk. "I imagine the two of you have met? Ulharisk has been helping me guard Maira. Has she awakened yet, Sir?"

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk listened as the two started to come up. He could hear the claws of the Gargoyle impacting the structure. How odd. Is all Ulharisk could think as he came around, letting his Glaive vanish in a flicker of blue light. He then extended his hand to Avira to help her get up on the ground and Percival one as well, if he required it. "Ma'am." he said to Avira before looking over to Percival then back to her. "I believe we had meet at her headquarter yes, though I fear I don't quiet recall your name but as Percival stated, my name is Ulharisk." He then look over to the Gargoyle. "Asleep still, last I checked. Sleeping soundly as a newborn hatchling."

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "Not that I've heard of. Honestly, we've been...a little preoccupied recently so..." Avira looks sad. Garland's rage was taking precedence over her pursuing a life-long dream. Go figure. As Percival starts to climb, Avira's a little surprised since she did expect flying. Though this doesn't explain why he didn't elect to just pick her up in her arms. "What? Me?" Avira asks innocently, "No! Never. Capes are so unwieldly. And it isn't as if you really need one when you can fold those wings of yours." She dismounts neatly with a jangle of her belts and gear. Right away, she looks around the tower to where the sleeping Maira is and breathes a small sigh of relief. "I'm worried, not just about this Garland nonsense, but because of the Dark Knight as well. If he has heard about what's happened, he'll no doubt come after Maira soon, figuring her heart is weak with heartache." Attention is turned upon Ulharisk. "Well, not really formally besides small talk and introductions at our party. The most I know of him is his performance in our recent battle." she smiles at Ulharisk, "I am Avira. Nice to meet you."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "We'll look into it once everything settles down. This whole situation is leaving a bad taste in my mouth." He'd chortle again at Avira's comment. "Oh, don't want to be a superhero do you? Or you just don't want to have your cape get caught in an airship propellar." Once the two arrived, he'd cross her arms, putting a finger to his mouth as if to indicate they should all soften their voices when Avira approaches Maira's sleeping form. "I think.. Maira reacts poorly to magical attempts to put her to sleep. Medicine seems to work." He'd nod in regards to the commentary on the Dark Knight. "It puts me on edge as well Avira.. I'm, looking into it, seeing if I can discover where he comes from. He doesn't appear to be a Shadow Lord." And then he'd let the two make their introductions. "I was relieved to have his aid in watching over Maira, since I can't do so for half a day." And then he'd chortle again. "So you call your young hatchlings as well! Despite our differences, there are more similarties to our respective people than I sometimes care to admit."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk nods to Avira. "Indeed a pleasure, Avira and yes.. though uuuh.." He rubs the back of his neck. "..Not my best fight.. then again-- my brother was always the better in combat.." His eyes drift away before he makes his way down with everyone else to where Maira was sleeping (or near of). Though he does raise an eye brow once more. He tried to get an answer the night of, yet none would say, so perhaps now he could get an answer. Also he does keep his voice indeed down. He was good at that, came with being sneaky when he use to mess around in his youth of getting into things he shouldn't. "I-- know many have spoken of Garland but... who.. actually better.. what is he?" The draconian asks Avira as he looks at her then to Percival. "..and what is a Shadow Lord?" He got the explanation on heartless. He saw the heartless with probably, whom was this, Garland. Yet so little information he had able to obtain. Ulharisk then looks to Percival. "It would seem so. It would be interesting to take down some side notes and count them." He muses before his violet eyes drift over to Maira. "..be a good way to spend the time.. beyond stretching wings in boredom.." He smirks as he says that before placing his hands behind his head.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Seeming at mention of the Dark Knight, Maira begins to stir. She reaches up, tossing her arms over her head, then flips over. Upon hearing voices, Maira reaches then to rubs her eyes, opening them and sitting up, bleary and disheveled, flushed from sleep with the an indentation from a pillow crease on her cheek. "Hummmuuuh?" she asks, looking around. "Oh! Avira you're here," she says, smiling lightly. Maira is slowly snapping out of it, and thus looks around to discover that she didn't burn everything down. Not even a scorch mark! Maira looks to Perci then, and grins, the first time she'd really smiled in days. "It worked."

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "I don't need a cape to be a superhero!" Avira says proudly. "And neither do you. But airship propellars...far more of an issue. Yes." At Percival's motions to be silent... ...Avira lowers her voice. Slipping over to the fire mage, Avira leans over her best friend and gently brushes a bit of her blonde hair from her face. There's a sad look upon her face. "It doesn't surprise me." she whispers, "She's brimming with magical energy. It would likely interact with her poorly." Turning to Ulharisk, she looks him over critically before a faint sigh escapes her. If she was not mistaken, he recently had his world lost to the darkness. "Garland...he is an ancient, immortal embodiment of what amounts to pure darkness." She shudders, "Gazing into him is gazing into the abyss. A Shadow Lord, which is what Garland is, is the name we have given to those who can control the Heartless. Though people with strong enough wills and dark enough hearts can do that..." She paces away from Maira, "The Shadow Lords seem to be interested in making more worlds fall-" Maira speaks and Avira whirls around. "Hello Maira. Yes. Yes I am."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "Far be it from me to argue with a lady who ripped out someone's spine to beat others to a pulp with it. That does sound superheroic." He'd chortle once again, he knew that wasn't really how she got /THE SPINE/, but still he saw fit to tease her about it. It didn't seem like a real weapon from a practical standpoint! But it was still amazing to watch her use it. He'd nod as Avira approached Maira, whispering. "Just have to be careful with how often I give her the stuff. I don't want her to become dependant on it." And then she described Garland, and he didn't know how he felt about that. He'd never encountered Garland, he had no idea how Garland acted, he had trouble even fathoming the concept of someone so evil that it would frighten him to even look at him. He'd just fall into an awkward silence until she spoke of them making more worlds fall. "We won't let them." And then Maira awakened, and he could only smile. "So it did. You're looking much better, Maira. No nightmares this time?"

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk gives a faint nod to Avira's explanation including what Shadow Lords wanted to do. He narrows his eyes as the gears turn in his head. He looks over to the side for a moment even when Percival states that they wont let them. Yet when Maira awakens, Ulharisk snaps his attention around and gives the young fire mage a smile. He though has gone very silent, mostly leaning up against the wall once more with his arms crossed over his chest. Including ignoring the nagging feeling of suddenly becoming the outsider to this small group once more. That feeling of 'you don't belong here'. Though really, was there any place he could belong too? But he had a promise to keep and that was watch over Maira when she slept. It was something he would keep so long as he was able too.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira reaches out to begin running her hands through her hair, trying to make it look just a little less insane as she looks between the gathered group, flushing with mild embarrassment. "Did you all just...sit here while I was sleeping all this time...?" its very weird to have to be watched over while she sleeps! Maira gets out of bed and wanders over to hug Avira. "You didn't have to come, but I'm glad you did," she says. She looks to Ulharisk then, returning his smile. "Glad you are still here--hope you and Perci have been bonding," she comments. "So...um...what were you guys talking about?"

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "H-hey...that's not how-" Avira gets a little flustered when Percival teases her about the Spine. How did she get it? Well thus far she's actually only told one person where it really came from-Mercade. Though for certain reasons, Angantyr was also a little aware of its origins. "Well it works perfectly well for me!" "What do you mean I didn't have to come?!" Avira blurts out suddenly, vigorously hugging Maira back. "Of course I did! You are my best friend and I have been so worried about you!" Maira is released from Avira's tight hug. Turning, she gestures to Ulharisk. "Oh, we were mostly filling Ulharisk here in on the Shadow Lords and Garland. Since he asked. And, well, you do have a right to know about the mess you now find yourself in."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "Oh its not, is it?" He'd give her a teasing look, before it became a sincere smile. "Well one day, I'd like to hear the real story. We haven't had many chances to speak lately." He'd continue to just grin from ear to ear as the two hugged, looking sidelong to Ulharisk, then back at Maira, giving her a teasing look. "Oh aye. I make a very good conversation piece as rooftop statuary. I'm told that I'm a fantastic listener. The pidgeons love me." And then it returned again to a smile. "More seriously, I think that the two of us will get along famously. Anyone who chooses to be your guardian is alright in my book."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk glances over at Percival, before looking back at Maira. "Oh. Yes. We been passing notes." Kinda. Though he does try to not laugh as Percival remarks on his stone nature state. His attention the moves over to Avira, giving a nod as she explains to Maira what they were talking back, before he looks back at Maira. "We were indeed. Curse I suppose of being the outsider to a new world. You do not have all the knowledge that many would have." He then looks back to Avira, "You also have not dragged me into any troubles. I choose to fight and I will fight again if I must. If these Shadow Lords are taking words and destroying them for some evil purpose," He then stands straight before clenching his hand into a fist in front of him, while looking at Avira. "Then they must be stopped at all cost." Ulharisk did sound pretty sure about that. "They need to pay for their transactions and perhaps destroying so many worlds, along with who ever else they have sacked into their black holds." He then moves out his hand to his side. "For all things have a weakness and once that weakness is found, their end will soon come with it." Yep. Very determined. Ulharisk's eyes glow for a moment as the wind almost kicks up by how the flames move and the soft breeze that moves through the area, but it seems to die down as quickly as it starts and Ulharisk's own eyes return to normal. "..but that will take time and far more man power then what we perhaps currently have. The Guardians were at least twenty and.. we could not hold them back.." He tsks at that before frustration finds his features. "..damn that messenger of Whe'ir."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira laughs lightly, giving Avira an affectionate squeeze. "I'm sorry I didn't want to worry you I just...I didn't want to burn down anymore of HQ...how is Isaac? How are repairs? Have.....have you heard anything from...from Angan?" she asks, as doubtful as it may be, she has to ask. Then, when Avira mentions Garland, Maira tenses up, going stiff with instinctive fear. The darkness--Isaac's arm--pool of blood--Angantyr... Maira takes a deep, shaky breath. "Y-yes...you should know what we're up against," she replies. Maira looks back to Avira, frowning softly. "Will you tell me now...if you can? How you knew?" Maira looks to Perci then, blushing. "I don't need guardians! At least not like, all the time or anything..." she says, looking down. The young mage looks to Ulharisk, nodding at his determination. "I don't understand what they want to do--why they want the worlds to go to darkness. I'm going to find out though."

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' Avira looks to Percival apologetically, "We haven't really, have we? Yes...this must be changed." Casually, she waves to Ulharisk, "Well, we are all happy to get you all up to speed if you have any questions about this unusual and broken world you find yourself in." There's a sad smile on her face as he proclaims that he'd gladly fight the Shadow Lords, "Ahhh...we need more people like you, no doubt." To Maira, she shakes her head. "I haven't heard a word from him. Rightfully so maybe." She pauses. How did she know? "...Angantyr warned me. He warned me that Garland was paying him to come destroy our base." There's a bitter tone in her voice at this. "He made me promise not to let anyone know and prepare disretely-that way, Garland wouldn't find out that he told me."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd wave off Avira with his taloned hand, smiling. "You've had other concerns. So have I, its small wonder neither of us have had the time." And then he'd nod in reply to Avira's affirmation to Ulharisk. "Indeed, as I've stated, I'm always happy to answer your questions in regards to fighting the good fight, though I'm.. not well-versed on this world. Will is wont to say that I'm a /newb/ when it comes to the supernatural. When Avira first spoke of Garland accosting Mercade and herself, I thought that some sort of animated wreath was after them." And then to Maira, he'd smile patiently. "No, you don't, not all the time. Right now though? You're being pursued, and Angantyr's attack.. its made you vulnerable. Its my pleasure to be your guardian until we have this all sorted out." And then he'd listen between Avira and Maira, finally nodding. "It is as Maira thought then. The two of us are going to search for Angantyr now that she's rested." And then he listened to Ulharisk as he described some details of the fall of his world, from the bits and pieces of his tales he was starting to pick up some of the cosmology of his world. Though it was little more than Whe'ir=Darkness. Mitir=Light and Xur'shio as some sort of all-father deity. Little else yet, he still didn't broach the subject as he knew that religion was often a touchy subject, but he did ask one question. "What exactly happened when your world fell? It sounds.. different, than the tales from when most worlds fall."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira's face goes white as she hears Avira's answer, though she had sort of assumed Angantyr had found a way to warn her. "A-and he couldn't tell me because...I can't...I can't hide anything," she surmises, moving to a nearby chair and flopping down. "Oh...what is he doing? I told him...I told him how worried I was. He just told me not to be there, to not be in traverse town and I couldn't--couldn't not be there, and now--" Maira begins to breathe a little quicker, reliving it. She reaches out toward Perci, who has been a stabilizing force for her as of late. "Yes. We're going to look for him. I have to find him," she confirms, her mouth set in a stubborn line. She has to find him and tell him he's not a monster. That it doesn't need to be this way. Maira sighs and looks to Ulharisk. "My world is gone too...years now. A lot of us have been there--there's a way, if you dare to hope, to bring them /back/ though..."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk nods to them both as Percival and Avira both offer their services in learning. He gives a soft smile. "Perhaps, I will take you both up on that knowledge gathering soon enough." He does glance back out. He noted when he followed there was creatures such as wolves and the like out in the desert. A source of food really. Food-- sound really good right now sense he couldn't get anything to eat due to no money of any kind. Ulharisk looked over to Percival then when he asked what exactly happened. "...." He looks away once more before looking outside. "A being came through a dark portal as many more were opened. The darkness filled the area as not only the spawn of Whe'ir exited from the portals, but the very dark monsters he created back in the gods rule over our world. When he and Mit'ir sat side by side. The monsters he created to try and destroy us because of his anger toward his brother." Ulharisk shakes his head before he looks at Percival. "They came. The man killed my father before our eyes. Then left, left before I could catch him. The dark spawn however filled the streets. Filled the streets and we quickly became powerless." He looks to the ground, his hands by his side clenching tightly into fists as started to growl lowly. "Powerless to do nothing at all and I... I was knocked unconscious." He snorts in his frustration. Once more the wind starts to gather. He shakes his head and start to head up the stairs. "I shall get us some food. If you have means to cook, I suggest you ready such things. It should only take me, at most, maybe a bell to bring back food. Perhaps less if the pray here is easier then it was in my world." There was almost coldness in his voice with the mix of range and growing frustration of the situation. Painful memories. Painful memories still far to fresh.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "If only it was that easy." Avira says sadly when wreathes are spoken of. "If only." But to hear that Percival will personally guard Maira through all this puts her at ease. Given Garland's pronouncements, she's doubly afraid that if she remained around Maira for long amounts of time, the fire mage would be caught up in additional backlash...just as she had already with Angantyr. A look of regret settles upon her face, "Maybe it's best that Angantyr be left alone for now." After she lets Maira know what the deal with the attack was, Maira admits her own little secret of her own. HE did try to warn her, but she hadn't listened and she was there. Perhaps that's why he had refused to attack her, just like Leon had refused to attack her. In a way, it's a little unfair. Nobody's afforded her the luxury of being left alone. Then again...she could take it. Falling silent, Avira contents herself with listening to the fall of Ulharisk's world. The death of his father. His inability to do anything. "I'm sorry." she offers to him quietly. "That sounds like a horrible way for you and your world to go."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "I'll do whatever she wants, Avira." He states cryptically, standing beside Maira when she reached out to him, placing a hand upon her shoulder and squeezing very gently. "I'm not sure that right now is the best time either, but... it needs to be done sooner or later." And then he listens to Ulharisk's tale. The entire tale, his expression grim. At the end of it, he would only make one statement to him before he departed. "You have my condolences. If ever you need any help avenging your world, your father... you have my sword." It was small comfort, but it was better than nothing. The place was now wired with temporary electrical lanterns and worklights, and so as Ulharisk departed to find food, he'd go one level below, dusting off the simple wood burning stove. Nothing fancy, but it would suffice, as he loaded it with a small amount of firewood. All the other implements were strewn about haphazardly. Zia and him still hadn't had enough time to clean the place up entirely, and he didn't know what Ulharisk was bringing, so after he finished, he'd return back upstairs.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' No, it wasn't fair. It was hugely unfair. Maira doesn't understand it either. She feels like she's being treated like glass, pitied. She's not fond of it, to say the least. "He didn't tell me it would be him. I....asked him to help us. I asked if he would come protect you...he didn't say anything at all," she replies. Maira would have taken Angantyr's attacks. She'd have taken Leon's. She'd offered to, to stop her friends from being hurt. Its so frustrating. She feels so /weak/. Rather than fall into self-pity, Maira looks to Ulharisk and listens to his story, her eyes filled with sympathy. She never knew her father, so she could not imagine such a thing. She'd lost her mother, but just to sickness, and she was so young. "It is. I'm so sorry Ulharisk," she says before he goes. Well, food does sound amazing. When did she eat last? She can't even remember. Maira looks up toward Perci for a moment as she feels his hand on her shoulder, smiling softly before she looks down. "I've been a lot of trouble lately....that will stop," she assures them, then lets Perci go off to deal with the stove. Maira looks back up at her best friend, sadly. "I'm sorry....I think I have to go find him. I know you'd probably really like to do that too and you're just as hurt--if not more, than I am. But he'll think he's a monster...and if he really comes to believe it, he'll be one. I'm...sorry. I know this is...weird," she sighs.

:'''[[Avira]] has posed:''' "No doubt." Avira agrees. Maybe it was just herself, she realizes. Maybe it was just her who didn't want to find him and confront him again. Maybe Avira needed the time. Since she doesn't know this tower well, she leaves the burden of figuring out how to cook up here to them. With Maira around they won't be hurting for fire anytime soon though. "Don't look for him alone at least." she looks to Percival, whom she trusts to keep her best friend safe.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira stands, moving over to hug Avira again. This isn't easy for her, she knows. "I won't. I'll be careful. YOU be careful...I know you can handle yourself but please...Garland..." scares the piss out of her, basically. "Just...be careful," she repeats.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' There was a loud thump suddenly up high on the tower. Something landing down high above. Though things were quiet for a moment there was then a few thuds before the sound of foot steps. Soon coming down from the steps was Ulharisk carrying two sacks over his shoulders. He gave a nod to the ladies, unaware that Avira was leaving and then glanced over to Percival. "So.. where do you want these? They already been skinned, so the meat just needs to be cooked. We will probably need to cook all of it, unless you have the means to salt them or freeze them." Ulharisk did indeed bring back food.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' /Thump/ What was that thump above? He almost went to check it out, then Ulharisk came downstairs. Surely the man wasn't so lead-footed as to create that sound, and how did he carry two sacks while climbing up the tower? He decided these were questions best unanswered, like the question of what would happen if he were to push Ulharisk over the side of the tower, as he'd suggested earlier. When Ulharisk returned, he'd take the two sacks of meat from him, going downstairs, and moving the firewood to an old, rusted over oven instead. "Worry not, I'll make good use of all of it." The inside had been scrubbed and cleaned thoroughly, so it just looked worse than it actually was. He'd light a match from a nearby box, dropping it in, then closed the front of it, giving it time to heat up. While he was waiting, he returned upstairs. Percival would chuckle, giving her a look that showed he was faintly amused by it. "Maira.. you're never any trouble. Good friends never are, and don't you believe otherwise." And then on the subject of Angantyr, despite it being meant for Avira, he'd still give Maira a reassuring look. "I don't think he's gone that far yet, Maira.. Not yet. I would know." His tone became grim in the last clause. He'd glance idly to Ulharisk while the oven was heating. "What sort of repast did you bring us, Sir?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Jumpy, and for good reason, Maira is jolted by the sudden thump from above, practically leaping into Avira's arms. Soon enough, Ulharisk has returned with bags full of meat. Well. Uh. Alright. That was good. She could deal with that. Catching her breath, she smiles to Ulharisk. "Sounds great, I'm starving," she says. Whatever he has, Maira would probably eat it. Maira would eat almost anything. You don't want to think about some of the things she's eaten. When Perci speaks about him knowing about being a monster, Maira frowns deeply and follows him over to the stove, helping him light it. You know, with a quick burst of magic. She then places an arm around him and gives him a gentle squeeze, resting her head against his shoulder briefly. "You are not either," she whispers.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk takes a seat on the ground. Huffing out a bit of air in a sigh. He Then moved to adjust a bit of his armor on his arm as he glanced over, if not down to where Percival may be. "Wolf meat." He explains before resting his arms over his knees. "I suppose they are wolves at least. They were rather strange looking creatures." He then closes his eyes. "Sorry if some of the meat is not very well cut up. I tried to get most of it off the bone, but I was never very good at the more fine art of cutting." So as he was pretty sure he probably left behind more meat in the wilds then he brought back, but he didn't want to keep others waiting to long and the looks he got when he ran into some adventures was enough to cause a bit of concern. "..Percival.. Maira.." He would ask Avira, "What do the humans around here think of.." What would they even be called here? All they ever seen is him like this. "...hrm.." He suddenly seems stumped on his words. He gently taps the back of his head against the stone wall. "Urrm.. Lizard... with wings?" He isn't even sure if that is the right term. Lizards were--- kinda small. Wings were on birds. Well. It have to work. He didn't know what else to call his kind when they were in their other form. After all, a Draconian was a Draconian. He was also oblivious to the cute moment. Way to go Isk for interrupting it with your silly questions!

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' Ulharisk identifying the origin of the meat gave Percival pause, but after a moment, he just grinned, he was actually a rather good cook, and he regarded something new as a challenge. "Wolf meat. Interesting, I've never roasted a wolf before. Probably more stringy than beef, but leaner. And don't worry about it, I'd be a poor host if I couldn't do my share of butchering it." And then on the subject of lizards with wings, he'd scratch the back of his neck. "Drakes? Dragons? It all depends. Many worlds give great respect to dragons, in others they are monstrous. A sort of fighting style known as Dragoon exists, for which they wear dragon motifs on their armor, but they tend to.. jump, rather than fly for their attacks, and use lances or spears. Everyone has a varying opinion of dragons. In my world, they're nothing but legends who may never have existed, or may have been some trick of the third race." Then he descended downstairs, as Maira follows and rests her head against his shoulder, he just /crumbles/ on the inside. Wrapping his arms and wings around her in embrace. After a moment he'd just whisper, to her. "I wish I could believe that. When you say it, I almost do." He'd lean down, to press a light kiss against her forehead, before he even thought twice of it. And then, having realized what he'd done, he'd release her, turning away as if he couldn't look at her, ashamed that he'd even allowed himself to do that. He'd find a butcher's knife, a skinning knife and carving board to continue to Ulharisk's initial work at the meat.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Wolf meat? Oh boy. Well, she'd eat it, but she wonders what Percival will have to say on the matter! He's a cook, he might not know what to do with that. "Oh, um...okaay....can't say I've ever had that kind of meat before," she says, then shrugs. Maira is pretty surprised by the sudden embrace, though she understands the reason for it, and supports him. It was not exactly out of the ordinary, but it was out of the ordinary in front of other people! Still, she hugs Perci, gives him a reassuring smile, then lets him go to get cooking. Maira tilts her head then, watching Ulharisk. "Lizard with wings...like a wyvern? Or a dragon?" she asks. Maira thinks for a moment, then her face lights up with an idea. "I'd show you a picture but I can make one instead--lets see..." she begins, then summons her fire to hand. It blossoms into the air, unfurling and drawing together to form the popular vision of a dragon, which she's seen in picture books. Great noble beasts, large and winged with wicked teeth, etc. "Like this?" she asks. The dragon of flame flaps its wings, tail swaying. Maira the lets it fizzle, drawing the fire back into herself less she catch something aflame.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk listens to Percival and nods. His eyes closed for the moment. Seeming to take in the information. Curious to know such places would maybe have something akin to perhaps his species, yet such wide variety of views. If these were indeed.. His thoughts were interrupted as his attention focus on Maira with his eyes now open. He then watches her create a dragon in fire and he, almost gets up. Seeming amazed not only by what she did but by the very fact she could do such a thing. "Ah. So you do have many ways your people can mana weave." He blinks his eyes a few times as the image fades. He comes down stairs a bit, but he keeps his distance for the most part. Not because of what Maira could do, but mostly cause it was a six sense telling him to somewhat stay back. For whatever the reason. "Yes. Yes that be what I speak of. You call them.. dragons here?" He then hrms softly, brows furrowing. "I see. Dragons." He laughs a bit before running his hands through his hair. "..interesting name.." He then seems to stare off back up once more. "..do you.. know how the people may view such dragons here?" He does know the men called Dragoons, which was also something he just adds to his look into later list of things to do.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira frowns a little at seeing Ulharisk's response, as it seems to be at least somewhat alarmed. "Don't worry, I won't burn you..." she says. At least, not right now...she had it under control now... "Heh, well, I know I would be super excited to see a real dragon. I've seen a wyvern, heh, I've even ridden one! My friend Faruja has a wyvern...but they are not...quite like dragons, you know? I'd be...wow, that would just be so cool," she replies, getting a little wide-eyed.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk rubs the back of his neck. "Ha.. haha.. yeah.. riding.. a dragon." Suddenly this conversation got very awkward. "..and I am not worried about being burned. It takes a great deal of time for me to actually even notice extreme temperatures.. at least-- like this.." His gaze shifts back to the upstairs. "I think, I am going to go step back outside. Yes. That sounds like a good idea. Get some fresh air and make sure everything is still safe." He then quickly bolts right up the steps.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' /TIME SKIP/ Cooking the wolf meat was definitely an interesting experience, and in the end, the meat turns out to be roasted for longer than he might have liked. He wasn't quite used to cooking with this particular wood-burning oven and was still working out the times on it. Still, he had the feeling that Ulharisk wouldn't mind. An egg timer pings, and he takes a pot holder that'd been strewn about to remove the pan from the oven. Giving it the critical eye, he'd let it cool for a few minutes, before he worked at carving it into steak sized slices. Since he didn't know exactly how much Ulharisk ate, he gave him three large steaks that each looked to be about sixteen ounces each, and himself the same, while serving it with some simple new potatoes that he'd brought along for his kitchen and roasted with the wolf meat. Hardly slow-roasted to perfection, but it would still do. Once the two plates were filled, he'd carry them upstairs, with a fork and a knife both on each plate. If/when he located Ulharisk, he'd seat himself down casually on the floor. He'd speak idly of his people, as the two started to eat. "I don't think I've told you all too much of my kind. In my world.. there aren't many left, perhaps a thousand, perhaps a few thousand at most. We're all in hiding as most humans in our world hate and fear what they don't understand. My clan is sixty strong, and entered into a pact with some humans for.. mutual protection. We serve as guardians, and they conceal our presence. Our kind lay eggs only once every twenty years, and it takes ten to hatch.. so our numbers may never recover. All of our young are kept ignorant of their sire's identities, and are raised communally." He'd carve off a large piece of meat, biting down on it, chewing for a time, and swallowing. "Mm. A distinct texture. I think I overcooked it. Anyhow, everyone in the clan who is our elder is our parent, and those who are hatched at around the same time are our sibling. We're all trained from birth our youth to be warriors, males and females both. When we come of age, we generally choose a mate, and mate for life." He'd pause for a time, to see if he had any questions, before he'd offer to continue.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk was indeed up top, mostly he was outside just watching the world go by really. His eyes glancing over the sky as if longing for something that wasn't there to take. Yet when Percival arrived that distant look quickly came back into focus before he gave the gargoyle a friendly smile. The Draconian listened to Percival talks of his race. How long it took for their numbers to grow; which would explain so few; and their relationship with the humans. As he ate, he had to control himself to not scarf down the food and in some ways, he observed what Percival did, mimicking all the same. "That must make breeding season highly entertaining." Ulharisk states with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Mostly the sheer length of time seemed rather insane to wait around and he knew even with his people, women were not all to pleasant around that time; well, somewhere to not all /that/ bad. Though some others... "Don't you.. ever wish you knew who your parents were? Honestly?"

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' The Gargoyle regarded the question for a time, before nodding. "We sometimes guessed at the identities of our Sires. It isn't that difficult truly, each of us look rather distinct from each other. Once you find a feature and match it to a parent, you know their mate." He'd shrug, his wings lifting off his shoulders briefly at the gesture, smiling affably. "Usually, we were told its best not to break tradition, to delve too deeply into such matters. Since our parents would have been raised the same way we were, its likely they'd know, but not treat their offspring any differently. Now.." He'd carve off another piece of meat. "Unlike other clans, we have.. strange traditions. Traditions like the humans in our world. The greatest honor one can achieve in my clan is to be knighted, so once our hatchlings come of age, they are trained as pages, then squires... Once their valor and adherence to our code is adequately tested, they are knighted by a human lord that serves in the organization of our 'handlers'. I was still a squire, when my world fell. Its unlikely that I'll ever be knighted now."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' "Perhaps we can find you a human lord to knight you then?" Ulharisk asks eating some of the food as he ponders over this. Did it have to be a particular human? Then again.. as he realized as he munched on some of the wolf steak and potatoes (which were really good far as he was concerned), that.. he didn't even know what a /knight/ was. I mean, was it like-- a night? No. That didn't sound right in context. ..also what was a lord? Ulharisk hrmed suddenly before he then gave a sheepish grin after he swallowed the food. "Uh.. also.. I must admit though. In honesty, even if I was to find you a human lord to knight you, I would not even know where to begin as-- it seems strange to have a human lord night someone. Why would they wish to be moon and stars?" He blinks. "Unless this has to deal with your kind-- OH! This is because your kind are those of the night right? ..but wait... that.." He suddenly seems very lost.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' And then he'd laugh uproariously, not because he was laughing /at/ Ulharisk, but more like he understood the cultural differences that led to him not knowing exactly what was stated and was laughing at the situation. And so after a time, he decided to let him in on the joke. "Small wonder that your world has no word for it. The night, as you and I know it, is different from a knight, which is spelled with a silent /K/. A knight is a warrior who agrees to abide by a code of honor known as chivalry, in my world. A /lord/ is an authority, someone who is a leader by birth and divine right, or one who has earned nobility through service. All knights must swear fealty to a Lord, and agree to serve them. When the Lord requires their swords, they may call upon them. However, it is also expected that a Lord will act in the best interests of their knights, and serve the interests of all his vassals as a whole." He'd grin, "In my world, its an archaic system, and we are but relics of the past, serving a monarch who has no power, serving a secular leadership who may not have our best interests in mind. All to ensure our kind actually has a future."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk listens to the explanation and nods now. Though the laughing did put him on edge at first, but he was slowly starting to understand why as the explanation continues, the laughter. It was a rather silly situation. One he-- will have to get use too. In slowly starting to understand this cycle. He though frowns at the end and snorts softly in soft protest He then shakes his head gently. "It sounds like your kind could shortly be misused by the very ones you serve." He grimaces as he says that, seeming to loose his apatite suddenly. "Rather disgusting situation to be in. A tradition that has been lost, but only to be upheld because it..." He growls almost then shakes his head. "I am.. sorry.. that-- that is not right of me to judge so when I do not fully understand the situation." He then rubs his forehead gently. "I... I do thank you for sharing this with me Percival. Your kind is, honestly, very fascinating. They sound like a proud people. A truly noble one." He grunts. "Just..." he shakes his head. "Mm."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' He'd nod in affirmation at the statement that they could be misused. "It's been tried in the past. There have been several occasions in history where we had falling outs with the current leadership. As it stands.. we're not used often. They know we're prickly about our honor, and that we won't act dishonorably." He'd smile politely at Ulharisk's disgust over the situation. "Its not the best situation, certainly. Tradition is important to my kind. We like know where we came from, and to have a connection to our past. There are so few of us left that we feel it would be a disservice.. to allow our traditions to die before every last one of us falls." He'd grant Ulharisk a patient smile, "We know that our situation is a difficult one, we're just trying to preserve what we can, for as long as we can.. And it's only right and proper, you've shared so much of your own kind after all."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk listens and snorts softly. "Aye.. sometimes keeping tradition alive is all we have to keep us to our origins at times." He closes his eyes and then goes back to eating. "So I do hope though in the end, your people, your race, can keep your traditions. They are very fascinating and I thank you for sharing them." He says with a smile. He then moves one of the potatoes around on the plate. "Though I do admit-- I have not shared as much information with you, as you have to me. So.. perhaps we should fix that." He says with a chuckle. "Guardians, at least for my people, we are honest with one another, or so we try to be." He then looks up at Percival. "..so.. perhaps.. I should be full honest as we are going to be working with one another.. and hard to say for how long."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' We're sorry. The Continent You Have Dialed is not in service. Rerouting to next available location. Riku collapses with a pained yelp on a handy and convienient surface. This is within full view of anyone who may actually be available to see this happen. The teenager looks like they have the wind knocked out of them and looks so honestly confused that swirly eyes may be invoked in anything used to describe him at the moment. "wait.. what?" he asks nowhere in particular with muzzy confusion. "How..? /I was paying attention/." Riku grunts with pain, gingerly pushing himself up from a prone position to take a look around at his surroundings.

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' And Ulharisk is about to confide in him during their /man time/ when.. /A WILD RIKU APPEARS/ And Percival leaps to his feet initially, expecting a Shadow Lord or the Dark Knight given his method of appearance. He then relaxed when he took stock of him, he looked very familiar. Oh that's right, the kid who yelled at him about his foolishness during the Manhatten restoration. He was also there during the fight with the Behemoth. Riku, wasn't it? While his appearance put him on edge, he still decided to act affable around him, until he knew that he meant them ill. "Well met, Riku." He'd offer a hand, to help him up, and then, shrugging, he'd offer... "...fancy a steak while you're here? We have plenty." He was coming to expect this sort of craziness in this strange world he lived in, which explained his rather nonchalant attitude after the initial shock of his appearance.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk was indeed about to explain until suddenly a wild Riku appears. The Draconian's violet eyes follow the boy down and just as quickly as Percival stands up, dropping his plate (that poor plate), which amazingly doesn't break nor dump the steak, and his hand is marking the air with a symbol of some kind. Yet when Percival says the boys name. Ulharisk blinks a few times and then stands up straight from his defensive stance and then blinks again. "He is--- a friend?" Without even looking over he waves his hand through the air rune wisping it away like smoke. "Curious place this is becoming... humans that fall from the sky as if they were rain droplets." "..Are you alright though?" Ulharisk asks, moving carefully to sit back down, weary of this new guest, and it seems he have to share his secrets with Percival another time, and perhaps deeper explanations into his culture as well. "..also please remain up here. Nothing personal, but we do not wish to disturb those whom are resting below."

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra had been here in town to pick up some reagents for some spell work she's working on for the TDA. However she smelled something something that was just mouth watering. Maybe it's a new merchant selling something. Yet it's up here? She's flying up to a ruined watch tower, and comes int for a landiner she's suprised to see who she does here. Percy she knows and that gets a grin out of her. Ulhrisk is an unknown and she doesn't realise it' Riku this yet, as she comes in for a landing. "...Humans have that habit of getting into places they tend to be unexpected to be...so umm hi I smelled something really good down in town coming from here."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku groans and takes a look around. He looks at Percival slowly, raising an eyebrow. He rubs his eyes and blinks several times. A little late in the day to be a nightmare, isn't it? He then shrugs and decides to take everything in stride. He looks genuinely flummoxed and embarrassed as he rubs the back of his head. He turns his head over to look at Deidra and winces further. "Uh.. sure. Thank you. Sorry about this." he blinks again. "It doesn't /usually/... nevermind. Um. Could I ask where I am?"

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "More like a passing acquaintance. A friend of a friend. Though for anyone else those.. portals? They're generally bad news." He'd chortle at Ulharisk's statement on humans dropping like rain. "Only this human." No Riku, this was not a nightmare. This is just another day in your crazy life. "You're in Fluorgis. And don't worry about it, any friend of Will's is welcome here." He'd just grin as Deidra appeared. "Good evening, Deidra. I'll get fix a plate for you as well. Welcome to my /extremely/ humble abode." And then he'd descend for a short time, before emerging with two other plates of sinewy wolf steaks, potatoes, and utensils, offering them to Deidra and Riku both.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk starts to eat again, watching Riku very closely. He then takes notice of Deidra as she comes in, though it seems Percival may know her. She also appeared to be another of his kind. Interesting. His eyes then look back at Riku as he takes another bite of the wolf steak. He stares at him again for some time, before he at last looks away. When he finishes swallowing his food he speaks up, directing it toward Deidra. "I am not a human, I'm afraid. I am a Draconian. Though yes, there is some similarities I am slowly finding." And some with the gargoyles as well it would seem. He then slowly looks at Riku once more. Not the right height. Not the right voice. Not /him/. Though Percival explains that such portals are bad. Ulharisk remembers them. He just didn't continue preparing because Percival said Riku's name. If it wasn't for that.. "Interesting magic trick you displayed there on your arrival. That-- hole you created. Is that a common ability among some of you mana weaving humans?" "Portals.. as Percival called them.." He then takes another bite of the steak once more. He really wasn't trying to come off being aggressive, really, he was just very, very unsure about this one. "...I am.. curious simply on how many others may know /how/."

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra fl3exes her wings a little bit and grins a bit more. "Oh! That would be grat i'm starving and I didn't know you were living out here. It's a nice suprise really. It's got character at least. "she now looks over to Ulharisk and dverns he's not human and wonders what he might be, and she gets her answer she looks over to Riku for a moment raise an eyebrow but prehaps she's let go of bad blood either ways he's honestly plesent to him "So it's been a while hasn't it Riku..." She shifts about with her ttail and finds her self a comfortable potion. "I'm Deidra." she notes to Ulharisk.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' "And apparantly bad news for me as well." Riku grumbles good naturedly as he coughs out a sigh. "I think I've saved up all my bad portal jumps for this one week. Have you seen Will recently?" Riku asks Percival as he gratefully takes the steak, potatoes and utensils and sits down somewhere. He takes a bite of the steak and some of the potatoes, having not actually managed lunch right just yet and the embarrassment ebbs into caution as he regards Ulharisk. "No." he says with a shake of his head. "..to my knowledge, not a lot of people can pull it off. It looks like I barely qualify for that. Hello Deidra" he smiles with chagrin and inclines his head to her. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to come here. If this is Fluorgis then I'm not even on the right /continent/, let alone the wrong building. I'm apparantly getting much worse at this very abruptly."

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' Percival would sit back down, continuing his work at his own steak. "He's been around. I think he was in Cornelia not long ago, last I heard on the radio." He'd watch Riku eat the steak, giving him a sheepish grin. "Hope you enjoy it, its the first time I've made the attempt at cooking wolf meat." He'd chortle at Riku's woes of not even being on the right continent. "Well, at least you'll get a square meal out of the experience. Where were you looking to go?" And then a glance at Ulharisk. "Generally only Shadow Lords know how to do it, or their.. apprentices, associates. Riku is a special case, as I understand. I don't know him very well, but I trust Will's judgement. And he did aid us in restoring Manhatten from its darkened state. That makes him a hero in my book."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk listens to what Percival has to say on Riku and gives a gentle nod. It seems he slowly starts to relax a bit. He then looks over to Deidra. "Ulharisk. Tis a pleasure ma'am." Says the Draconian with a tenor, slight British accent. He then goes back to eating his wolf steak and potatoes being very quiet now. Mostly once more just listening to the conversations around him, as really-- he wasn't sure he wanted to state things about his culture around utter strangers. Though after a bit he does speak up again. "Is it hard to restore a world?" He asks, looking at Riku.

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra says "...Wrong conitent? Riku? How did you pull that off?" Seriously it's like some Anime characters she knew of who were infamous for getting lost. Or Reize but she never expected anyone else to end up as such. "Well you landed somewhere friendkly right?" She looks over to Percy and tilts her head for a moment "I been honestly thinking of finding a new place to sleep given what happened to VALKYRI I'm not a cowered but...well you know what I mean Percy right?" She also kooks to the food at this point. "More than most would try to do something about a mistake like that. I have to give you that." There's worse things to worry about Riku did try to do something about it right?

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku snorts. "Well. Then that's their problem I suppose." he chuckles in relation to Will being inflicted on Cornelia. He pokes inquisitvely at the steak now that he knows what it is and nods. "Well. As much as some of these things have tried to make /me/ lunch instead of the other way around, this is very good. Thank you." he takes another bite as he says this and still looks extremely confused. "As to how I manged it, I don't know. I was just going across the city. I've been living in the city of Archades and.. now I guess I'll have to walk." he snorts with frustrated bemusement. "Who knows where I'd turn up if I just tried to simply go back the same way I left." Riku seems to completely ignore Ulharisk's question, contently eating.. except the action slows, and then slows further until he is very gently resting the utensil against the plate with a soft click and staring down into it absently. "It depends." he says very softly. "Some worlds can fall and be recovered.. but that usually is because the shards.. the pieces of that world can be found. Found and gathered together and restored by a keyblade wielder." Riku rattles this off, gently tapping the utensil against the plate. Picking it up a fraction of an inch. Dropping it. Picking it up again. Staring at the plate and not the people. "..others.. are never restored..because those shards are destroyed or never found." Clatter. Pick up. Drop. Clatter. Silence. "..It's a very big universe.. and a lot of ground to cover." Riku raises his eyes slowly to Deidra. "..What happened to Valkyri?"

:'''[[Percival]] has posed:''' "It certainly is. He's everyone's problem, part of being the Hobo King, he can turn up anywhere he likes, at any time." The russet-skinned Gargoyle would chortle, before looking up to regard the trio of guests. "You're quite welcome Riku. I'd made more than we needed anyhow." He'd scratching the back of his neck as Riku described his misfire. "I'm not exactly sure how it works, but Archades is.. very far. It doesn't suprise me that you'd be thrown off course from time to time. And then on the subject of restoring worlds, he wouldn't throw in his two cents until Riku was finished. "Its a...daunting task, we only restored a single city from our world, and its a large world." And then on the question of VALKYRI he'd reply honestly, "Angantyr attacked their headquarters at the behest of Garland. And Maira is being harassed by a being called the Dark Knight. He's.. a rather persistent figure."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk hears Riku explain how some words can be restored and then-- -- How they could also be destroyed. Completely. 'last of your people' Those violet eyes suddenly look very distant as he suddenly stares off into the distance. All conversations around him becoming drowned out like suddenly being plunged underwater. All words seeming to phase over him like a flood of nothing. 'Gift from Whe'ir..' '..never restored..' Never restored. Destroyed. That was your gift, wasn't it Dark One? You could not have us, so you would destroy us. That is what you always wanted... Wasn't it? Ulharisk seems to slowly just freeze what he is doing, before his face seems to even loose almost all expression as he then goes to slowly stand up on his feet. "Thank you for sharing the information, Riku. I am sorry if the topic was troubling for you. If you excuse me.. I should go check on Maira." He then starts to head downstairs. One foot slowly at a time. Almost as if somewhere in there Ulharisk just checked out.

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra says "My world got lucky to be honest. "I have to say ya it's not an easy task but it can be done. As for the what happened there? Huge number of heartless, Ang and I think another clad in dark armor like Darth Vader himself." She looks to ulharisk with a sympathic look to ulharisk andf tries to look comfortting for a moment and she looks back to Percy before going for her food. "It's really one big mess."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku knows that expression even on the face of a stranger but doesn't know what to do other than go back to his food. He picks at it, temper and appetite muted as he sighs quietly. He raises a hand almost to a 'stop' but then sighs and sits back, shaking his head. "Great." he murmurs quietly. He then registers. "Wait-- What?!" he sits bolt upright. "Angantyr did.. wait. Is Avira alright? What happened?" he pauses, then sighs and shakes his head. "Wait. Dark knight? Are we talking scary armor the sequel? Red eyes. Questions. Floods darkness like a baking soda volcano?" So. Many. Questions.

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra says "No not that one this was different. Issac intercepted him I hear and kept him from getting involved by keeping him distracted talking but if Ang is scary that guy is Love Craftian err cosmic horror. No fatalties but the building is leveled. We .... angered Garland. So it's more scary armor the greater." She shakes her head and takes a bitt of the meat before talking again. "It's just one big mess."

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' It would seem that poor Riku will not get his answer with Percival probably going down below to check on things, just as Ulharisk is gently leaning against a wall watching over Maira for a moment (like he said he was doing), and drumming his fingers softly against the stone wall. Losing hope was bad. Losing hope was never good. He had to stay strong. Maybe, just maybe, there were others alive. Somewhere. There had to be. He couldn't truly become the only one left alive... Ulharisk let out a soft growl in frustration before he came back up once more. "Could either of you let Percival know that I left out for a bit. I should be back before the sun rises. I just.. need to go for a walk." The Draconic then seems to leap over the edge, using some magic to slow down his descent before he lands on the ground and then seems to jog off in some distance.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Another day, and Maira is still in the tower where Percival and Zia live, though she's seen nothing of Zia. Perhaps she was keeping her distance. Goodness knows it was getting crowded here sometimes. Not that Maira didn't appreciate it, but there is only so long she can hide away, feeling miserable, letting herself be protected from the Dark Knight. Perci and Avira are so sure he will come and try to take advantage of her emotional state. They may be right. Maira sighs gently, sitting at one of the tower windows, looking down at the city below like some sort of princess in a castle. Except the gargoyles and dragon were protecting her rather than holding her hostage. She would leave, really, she wanted to...the only thing stopping her is that everyone would be angry with her if she did.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON had heard word thanks to Percival and Avira about Maira's location and condition, but he didn't want to give her more reason to worry in her vunerable state. He'd only recently gotten his Disc and his data both on the road to full recovery, though it isn't fully repaired. So, here he is, wearing his World of Ruin armor under his battered cloak, using his staff as a walking stick. He ends up blending in quite well with the crowd as he makes his way to the 'Gargoyle tower', occassionally glancing up for signs of life. It isn't until he gets close enough to the base of the tower specifically that he is able to identify Maira at the window high above. A pensive look spreads across his face as he considers. What was that old fairy tale...? He rocks back on his heels and focuses squarely on Maira, a grin lighting his expression. "<Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair?>" Maira would notice that his mouth never opened to speak and his voice has that distinctive neutralized modulation he would usually have when in his black suit and helmeted. Hopefully his 'voice' carries well enough for her to hear him.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk was indeed Maira's day guardian, however the day guardian had to stay away because he promised her that he go get her some fresh fruit from the market -- somehow. This actually lead to him looking for some fruit baring trees, like apples and pears, and then bringing those back instead. Yeah, they would have be cleaned before eaten, but no big deal! TRON outside may suddenly see something flying in the sky. With a rather large wing span, at least around maybe sixteen to eighteen wing space. It had a long body and tail with a fin at the end of it heading right for the top of the tower! It was what many people would call a small size dragon - A drake to some. It then lands on the tower and there is a flicker of light. However back on the inside all Maira would hear is a loud, typical thump that Ulharisk seems to make, before heading down the stairs, calling down to Maira. "Maira. I am back. I brought you some apples and pears."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Upon hearing a familiar, modulated voice, Maira looks directly below, a smile appearing. At his words, she laughs a little. "I don't think my hair is long enough for you to climb! Also, that seems as though it would be pretty painful!" she retorts. "Do you have a way to get up here? Percival is sleeping....and short of tossing myself out the window, I really can't get down either!" she calls. How entirely ridiculous this all is! Maira smiles anew when she hears the thump of Ulharisk returning, with fruit no less! She'd had to come up with some reason to get him to leave for a little while. She liked Ulharisk a great deal--he was quite amiable, but a girl needs privacy sometimes! She'd had some time to heat herself up some water and take something like a bath. Oh but she missed the great big tub at VALKYRI HQ! But the fruit, that's still a wonderful thing! "Wonderful! Thank you Ulharisk. I have a friend come to visit but I'm not sure how he's going to get up here..." she says, gesturing down toward TRON.

:'''[[Katyna]] has posed:''' Overhead, Katyna flew on the back of her baby dark dragon. It was a pretty small dragon and not nearly as intimidating during the last few hours of daylight, however from up here, she might yet be mistaken for a dark knight of sorts.. Still, she was determined to check up on Maira after having heard that she was holed up in some tower..For her own sake, apparently. Down below, Kat can make out the figure of someone who looks vaguely familiar..Was that TRON, or one of those weird 'programs' or whatever? She didn't really know him that well, and she didn't really care..Not at the moment. For now, she angles her dragon to land near the top of the tower, moments after Ulharisk himself lands there. "What...Another dragon?" She frowns, not knowing the draconian that well either. Well, whatever it is, she's determined to find out! He disappears moments before she lands however, causing another thump for whoever is in the tower to hear..Before she follows after the draconian, calling out Maira's name. "Heeey, Maira! You here?"

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra has been keeping with Maira since she found out about what waws going on. Percy's cooking was also a pluse into hanging around if one looked at it even remotly selifhsly but well given how crazy Gargyole sleep patterns have become? She's currenly asleep but not for much klonger she'd seem to be a stone stature here at least for a moment longer. The first sound is the sound of cracking stone, then it gets louder and louder as cracks appear all over her stone form and then her taloned feet grip the ground and the stone utterly shatter her eyes gloe red for a moment and she lets out an inhuman yawn stratching out her wings, and other limbes. "uggg.....this is always so trippy ummm....hey?" She now looks around rather sheepish and please mind the stone shards!

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON gives Maira a wave upon her recognition, his grin only widening. "<The lack of a door waz not what I expected,>" he admits. The flyover of a winged lizard/dragon is noted, but he barely knows what such a creature even is much less understand possible danger. He taps his chin thoughtfully. "<Light Cyclez cannot zcale vertical zurfacez...>" There are no flying-type Grid vehicles in existance, nor would he have the baton even if there is. "<Climbing could work, though.>" He tests the surface of the tower and how much grip he'd have, and how much of a ledge he could possibly use. "<Unlezz you have a better idea?>"

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk smiles at Maira as he places down the basket of fruit. "They will need to be washed before ate." he explains to her as he suddenly hears another 'thump' from above which causes him to raise an eye brow. Though he watches Maira speak to someone from outside, his attention goes to the one who apparently just landed. His eyes narrow as he places out his hand to write a rune in the air with blue light. Suddenly from that very light a blue pole starts to extend out before he places his hand on it, the blue light then shines as it creates the whole Glaive with the red runes glowing brightly. He walks up a few of the steps as he peers upward, "Who goes there?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Well, now that Deidra is awake, Maira does indeed have a better idea! Smiling over to Deidra, she waves. "Morning Deidra," she greets. She's so use to Perci that the stone sleep doesn't really startle her anymore. "I have a visitor...do you think you could bring him up by any chance? Please?" she asks, smile sweetening. "Ulharisk brought some fruit..." Maira blinks then, looking over as Katyna arrives. "Katyna! It's alright Ulharisk, she's a friend," she explains, hopping away from the window to move over to Katyna and hug her gently. "I'm glad to see you are doing better...oh!" she says, then scrambles back to the window. "I will see if Deidra can come down for you!" she calls to TRON.

:'''[[Katyna]] has posed:''' Katyna makes no attempt at hiding her presence as she jumps down the steps of the tower, searching the windows for Maira. Finally she hears talking coming from the main room and she steps towards it, halted only by Ulharisk and his glaive. "Erp! Oh, hey it's you! From Traverse!" She sweatrdrops, tensing a bit at the glaive, holding up her arms as if in surrender. "Heey, it's okay! I'm a friend of Maira's..I helped you guys fight Angantyr and protect VALKYRI, remember?" It'd probably be too complicated to explain that she was once a member of VALKYRI too. Fortunately, Maira explains things and Kat smiles gently at her, reaching out to hug her gently. "Maira! I'm glad to see you're okay, and so well-protected! But..Is this all really necessary for just one guy?" She frowns, remembering her brief run-in with the Dark Knight, shaking her head. "What..Does he want with you, anyways?" She finally notices a somewhat familiar looking gargoyle behind Maira and she grins sheepishly, trying to place the name. "Heh, I've met you before, what's your name again? Dee-something? Nice t'seeya again.." Too bad she missed the stone sleep thinger.

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra says "Morning and sorry about the mess, and sure thing I'll head down and get him." She takes a moment to spread her wings again she'll move to leap off the edge and glyde down to come pick up TRON. It's like she's some sort of elevator operator now and that thougth makes her laugh loudly as she comes down for a laning and looks to TRON. "So need a lift just let me get hold of you and we'll be on out way. It's Deidra." She adds to Katyna.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON gives Maira a thumbs-up and does not have to wait long before Deidra glides down to the ground. He slings his staff over his back and tucks the majority of his cloak under one arm so the Gargoyle doesn't grab it instead of him. "<Ready. Thank you for the advance warning,>" he replies to Deidra, still without moving his mouth. His head bobs as if speaking and he has all the facial expression, though, so it's still him 'talking'. Just not in the standard way.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk stands down as he realizes /who/ its and what Maira says also allows him to let the Glaive vanish in a flicker of blue light. "Sorry. Just the loud thump from above concerned me." He then moves off to the side watching as Deidra not only wakes up, but goes to fetch one of the others that was there at the fight. He however takes the time to get the broom and pale to clean up the stone shards. Such strange creatures were Gargoyles... Even with Percival sharing information to him, including realizing how similar they were to his own people, they were still /so/ different.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira sighs. Should she mention that she spoke to Angantyr? Katyna wouldn't understand. She isn't sure anyone would. She isn't sure /she/ understands! She'll hold off for now. When Katyna takes note of her guards she blushes. "I think its probably a bit much...really, I can't just keep sitting up here and waiting for him to come for me--and no, I have no idea what his deal is really, but I know he'll come back. I keep hearing about his appearances...I heard he was in Wutai and--" Maira takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. She wants to tell them what she plans to do, but she knows they will try to stop her. Maira sighs, then puts herself to work washing the fruit Ulharisk had brought. She hadn't asked him yet about his mode of travel, but she has some guesses. Once Deidra has brought TRON up, Maira runs over to hug him as well. "I'm so glad you're alright...how are things at HQ? Rebuilding? Are you um--totally repaired yet?" she asks, concern painted plain on her features.

:'''[[Katyna]] has posed:''' Katyna smirks at Ulharisk, trying to place the name. She's sure she had heard it during the battle. "It's Ulharisk, right? I thought I saw a dragon up on the rooftop a moment ago..I mean aside from my own." She grins, "Dont worry, Sardonyx is harmless..At least now she is, since she'll only follow my orders." But there was something else that worried her too. "Heey Maira, I'm sorry we didnt get to finish our conversation the other day. Guess I was pretty out of it, but..I hope you didn't go after Angantyr again. I mean, he could hurt you next time and I'm really worried about you. y'know, you're a real trouble magnet.." She makes a face, not really wanting to bring up painful memories, although she knows it's necessary all the same. "But Heey! You're right! Whose crazy idea was it anyway? Someone's been reading too much Rapunzel! I mean you cant just hide away here forever right? I suppose maybe we should go looking for him and deal with this once and for all!" She sighs, "I just wish I knew what he wanted.." The question is pretty vague though, did she mean Ang, the Dark Knight, or both?

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra carefully grabs hold of Tron to make sure he's scure and she's stronger than a human of her rough build would seem to be. She has no problems moving and she spread her wings again. "Up up and away!" She starts laughing to herself for some reason clearly she said something she thought was funny afterward she land sup top with no real problems and will let TRON off. She has been curious and unlike Percy had not got a chance to know just what is up with Ulharisk and wanted to learn more about him.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON lets Deidra carry him up without complaint, his gaze more focused on the ever-increasing vantage point over Fluorgis. It isn't often he gets a chance to get such an interesting view, after all. Once they land, TRON inclines his helmed head to Deidra before slipping inside-- --Only to get immediately hugged by Maira. With a low but rather (unintentionally) robotic-sounding chuckle, he pats her shoulders and readjusts his cloak more into a cape. "<The area iz ztill being cleaned up, but the town and Datapoint Zecurity are azzizting. Rebuilding effortz should begin in earnezt zoon.>" He looks down at himself, perhaps a little exaggeratedly checking over his armored form. He's clearly making up for his relative lack-of-voice with body-language and expression. "<Phyzically, I am fine. My Disc iz undergoing repairz az we zpeak, and my voice zhould be back to normal once that iz complete.>" He grimaces, not out of pain but out of distaste. "<My 'zpeech' iz like thiz zo I won't have to ztutter out every word in the meantime.>" He nods to the others, recognition lighting his brown eyes as he notes who is present. "<Greetingz to you all. I take it everyone iz well?>" He includes Maira in his question, giving her an especially concerned look.

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk glances over at Katyna after he comes back once disposing of the stone shards. "Hm? Yes ma'am, that is my name." He says with a smile and then she brings up the 'dragon' bit. "Did you? I don't recall any-- dragon. Though I guess that explains the thump." Yeah. He wasn't sure how ready he was to disclose that information. "Sardonyx huh? That is a nice name." He comments before walking over and snatching up one of the apples that Maira has already cleaned, before taking a bite out of it. He chews on the piece before he looks between the two women. "There is nothing wrong with going out, in my opinion.. so long as you have someone with you Maira. I-- don't know what is really going on, but if that man comes after you. That-- one who attacked-- He could do some serious injury to you or to this place." He grunts. "..I don't think Percival would be very thrilled if something happened to you, nor Avira." He glances up as TRON and Deidra come down, giving them a wave as he continues to eat his apple, just leaning his back against the wall now. Yummy, yummy apple. Something though Maira may have noted about Ulharisk. The man can eat a /ton/ and seems to probably have a slight black hole for a stomach. Though he himself has to admit, he doesn't really eat as much has he should only cause these people here don't have the feasts they would have where he came from. Ulharisk then peers back over to TRON trying to make heads and tails of what he is saying. Some of it was easy, other parts were kinda lost on him and caused his brows to furrow a bit. "I'm doing fine." He remarks with a soft smile. "Thanks for asking." He then tilts head a bit. "..if you don't mind me asking, /what/ are you? You appear to be Human, yet it is, in some ways, obvious you are not. A-- living weaved construct perhaps?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira looks back to Katyna, frowning as she mentions Angantyr, her brow forming a very stubborn expression. "What Angantyr did....he did to protect us. I may not seem that way....but its true," she tells her. "He doesn't want me to see him--" she says, but she'll say no more. He wants to protect her, and if she's seen with him, if Garland knows...damn it all! "It was...well I suppose it was mine and Perci's idea. I was having trouble sleeping you see so...but he found me something that helps and now I've just been here...." Well, since Katyna brings it up, Maira might as well say what she intends. "Yes, I'm not going to sit around and wait for him--the Dark Knight. He...I will deal with him," she says, looking down for a moment. She will not be talked out of this. Maira catches TRON's looks of concern and tries to give him a reassuring smile. He won't approve either, she's sure. "Heh...Avira seems to like you talking this way for some reason! I just want you to be all the way well again, whatever that entails," she replies. % To Ulharisk, she sighs. "I'm tired...tired of dragging people into trouble--I attract it, obviously," she says, gesturing to Katyna to harken back to what she'd said. "The one who attacked Traverse Town...that was Angantyr, and he...its very complicated but he is my /friend/ even now. The Dark Knight....well. I told you what I'm going to do. I can't keep resisting the...the tug, forever."

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra is sizing up Tron for a moment and seems to be curious at what he's talking about. "I can understand that and humm Datapoint is helping I see." She'd heard the mayor wasn't human but after some of the crooks Manhattan had had? MCP had been an upgrade ironically even if his laundry came out he still might be. "Might want to go find some food after sleeping like a rock." She doesn't tire of terrible stone puns it seems. Ulharisk also beat her to a question for a moment. "Well I think she likely finds the accent it gives you sexy most likely."

:'''[[Katyna]] has posed:''' Katyna blinks at TRON. "Heey, you're TRON right? Did you get damaged in the fight with Angantyr too, then? Or was it something else?" she doesn't really know much about programs, or whatever he is, but.."Nice to see you again!" She glances back at Ulharisk and nods, "Yeah, I could've sworn I'd seen a dragon land on the rooftop of this tower before I arrived here. Wonder where it went? It vanished pretty quickly afterwards.." Odd that. She has yet to connect the dragon to Ulharisk though. Kat peers back at Maira however, having many questions for her. When Maira continues to defend Angan, it causes Kat to frown, as she eyes her suspiciously. "Did..Did you go see him, then, Maira?" Her tone is not angry, just..Concerned. "I dont understand. Why did he do what he did? I know he cares for you and Avira, so why..? I just dont understand. I mean, it seemed like he was just being controlled by Garland, so how could he have been protecting anyone? If we hadn't been strong enough, he would have killed us all..Does he really not have a choice in the matter?" It made her a little angry really, and confused. Afterall, Kat *chose* to become good and yet there were people who still distrusted and disliked her, and demanded she prove herself. But Ang..Had done so much worse. Still, she didn't forget her promise to him.. "As for the Dark Knight, do you have a plan?" She simply smirks at Deidra, "Hah! It is a pretty funny accent!"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON raises his eyebrows as he closes his eyes and seems to inhale. Oh, the joys of explaining /what/ one is to someone who more-than-likely doesn't even understand the level of technology behind it. It isn't Ulharisk's fault, but it's something TRON has come to dread. "<Well, I am an artificial life-form from another world, called a 'Program'. I apologize if I am difficult to underztand. My current manner of zpeech iz honeztly better than trying to zpeak with an uncontrollable ztutter.>" He has tried. It makes his healing code glitch and his throat feel uncomfortable, plus the aggrivation of being unable to get a word /out/. He nods to Katyna with a smile. "<My name iz TRON, yez, and I did zuztain damage in the battle az well. The accent iz a conzequence of the modulator, though I find it amuzing how otherz react to it.>" He walks over to a nearby surface to take a seat, looking around at everyone as his brow knits together. "<Everyone zeez the entire event differently, bazed on how cloze they were to Angantyr. I did not know him that well before, and my neutral ztance haz not changed.>" He taps his foot thoughtfully. "<He would have destroyed everything around uz if we were not ztrong enough. But beyond that, I cannot underztand a purpoze in conztantly azking 'why', when we really need to focuz on and overcome what haz been dealt to uz, becauze it iz not over.>"

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk snorts softly. "Well Maira, unless something happens, I will be honored to stay by your side and fight for you." He then glances off to the side. People before yourself, he reminds himself before he looks back to her. "Yet I know I am a stranger to many of you-- so I understand if.. you decide you do not wish me there." Ulharisk then takes another bite of the apple, he stays quiet for a bit before his violet eyes look over to Katyna, "I really do believe talking about this... Angantyr or even the Dark Knight may not be the best of topics of conversation. There seems to be a bit of heat around these subjects and until things cool down, maybe best to cease conversation on them." Yet he too was curious as what Maira had planned for them both. Though in some ways, he didn't want to hear either. What he didn't know was probably better then knowing. He does seem to avoid the thing with the Dragon, for whatever the reason. Mostly cause he just didn't want to get into explaining really /why/ or what as a Draconian he able to do. After all, through the explanations that Percival gave him, even though Maira seemed really open to it, it sound like more people were fearful of these... dragons.. then open to them. TRON then attempts to explain to Ulharisk /what/ he is. All the Dragon can do is nod his head gently and then shake it softly. He kinda knew what an artifical life form was, that was like little things that the weavers would do, but nothing on this scale. Yet, so many questions! "I-- will take that explanation for now and I will most likely get back to you later." Say the Draconian with the slight tenor, British accent, who has slightly scaled skin, clawed fingers and toe nails, oddly shaped elf ears, and nearly slits for pupils. Such a strange group of people this Tower has become.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira sighs heavily, walking over to take a seat and fold her hands in her lap. "I spoke to him on the ma belle. He won't see me," she replies. "You have to understand what Garland /is/. He is..." Maira trails off, merely shivering as she remembers that impenetrable darkness. "Angantyr did his bidding because if he hadn't, Garland would have done it himself. You must understand how much worse that would have been. Avira got everyone out of Traverse town because Angantyr /warned/ her he would be coming--to get innocents out of the way," she tells them. Maira closes her eyes for a moment, holding out a hand. Upon opening them, a small flame burns in her palm--a brilliant white that lights the room. "My plan...it isn't much of a plan at all and it is difficult to explain. Everyone is light and dark, right? The Dark Knight has...something has happened to him and he is different. He is filled with darkness but...its not....right. Light wants to balance the darkness, and I think some part of him wants to be balanced. I really hurt him that last time. I...I think I reached something in him. I plan...I plan to try again. I plan to let this--light--just do what it seeks to do," she replies, hoping that made any sense. Maira looks up to Ulharisk then, the light dispersing. She stands and moves to him, reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder. "You just lost your world, but you fight. You knew almost nothing about me but you volunteered to help--you don't /have/ to do this...but I think I know you need to fight so I am really, really grateful for you help." Maira lets her hand fall and takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. "Perci told me once that some people are made to be heroes--but some people choose to be, and that's really remarkable."

:'''[[Deidra]] has posed:''' Deidra listen for a moment the Gargyole seems to understand for a moment pulling out a portable game system. "Wait program like the things that run on hardware like this?" She kinda stares for a moment and looks down to the game system for a moment. She just kinda puts it back into a pocket for a moment "So .... this brings up disturbing implications, TRON." She loos a bit concerned about it but that's not the matter at hand, okay so maybe she won't throw out her old PC now. "That other Dark Knight not ang? Sounds like a animal more than a man or one of Cyberbiotics drones I keep hearing about."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON turns his gaze to Ulharisk. "<No. It haz been a week already, and time doez not heal all woundz. If not now, when?>" He shakes his head, frowning. "<Bezidez, Garland will not wait on uz to recover on our own time.>" That being of Chaos is beyond his ability to classify at all, delving far beyond that. The MCP was right, he /is/ scared of Garland after two encounters. He offers a brief shrug to Deidra. "<The extent of my world iz unknown to me. I do not know if all zuch technology iz zimilar, or if my world iz zomehow unique.>" He listens to Maira closely as she explains her plan concerning the Dark Knight, then nods slowly. "<Running forever zolves nothing. If that iz what you need to do, zo be it.>"

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk tilts his head to Maira as she comes up to him placing her hand on his shoulder. He was actually very warm; like warmer then a normal person. His violet eyes studied her for a moment. Though he stayed quiet. Just listening before he smiled. "I am no hero nor do I really wish to be. I am just doing what needs to be done. Those Whe'ir servants should not be allowed to take worlds at their whim." He glances off to the side. "Besides," he looks at her. "You helped me when I arrived to this-- crazy worlds.. I should repay you in some way for this kindness and the continue one you keep giving." He then smiles warmly. Ulharisk glances over to TRON and sighs softly. "..trust me.. you don't have to talk to me about healing wounds with time.. I have several still healing and it hasn't been that long ago.." He glances away from the program looking out the window past everyone. "Yet I still stand by what I say. I will make them pay for their transactions. Some way-- or another." Ulharisk then glances over to Maira, "..by the way, how did you do that-- fire light trick. I never seen such weaving to that extent. I mean. I have seen things conjured from the mana but you have such perfect control over it."

:'''[[Katyna]] has posed:''' Kat stares at Maira, looking a bit..Confused. Whatever Ulharisk says, she doesnt care. She wants to know. She NEEDS to know. "So it's true then, he really HAS just become Garland's puppet. I just...Dont see the point of that. I mean, true, Garland is a Shadow Lord, and a powerful one at that. Buut..Just agreeing to be his slave, just because he doesnt have faith that together we can beat Garland..That's just the same as running away. Why doesnt he just escape Garland and help us fight him? Together, we can beat him.." She glances sadly at her mabelle, knowing that she'd somehow been cut off from VALKYRI a long time ago. "I....I will also stand by your side..By VALKYRI's side. I'll help protect you against Garland..The Dark Knight. Anything else the world can throw at us. You still have my number, dont be afraid to use it. Ulharisk. Deidre. TRON. Please take care of Maira! I..Have to go! See you later!" She flashes one of her charming grins before she waves and leaves the tower. Ugh, too cramped for her style! She needs fresh air..

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira laughs lightly at Ulharisk's response. "Well, neither do I! I just...want to help," she replies, shrugging her shoulders. She'd lived an extremely lonely life before, and she will cling stubbornly to every friend she makes. "How couldn't I help you? Years ago someone else did me the same kindness when my world fell...took care of me, gave me somewhere to live, answered my questions. I'm just...passing it along," she says with a smile. "Heh....you're warm, like me. Fire-touched! As for the things I do with my magic I don't even really know. It's just...part of me and sometimes it is very difficult to control. That's really why I came here. I was having nightmares, and I kept um...bursting into flame in my sleep," she admits sheepishly, her cheeks flushing. "It comes from my heart I guess. Fire is passionate, sometimes...sometimes it get the better of me." Maira looks toward Katyna, shaking her head sadly. "I'm trying to convince him...I am trying," she replies. She doesn't know if she could ever be successful. Garland is terrifying. He is a /god/ she is sure....but there has to be a way. If she can use light on the Dark Knight, maybe..... Then Katyna leaves abruptly, and all Maira can do it wave. With a sigh, Maira flops down again. Can she really be tired again already? "TRON...you'll look out for Avira, right? She's so strong, but this thing with Angan and Garland...it's really hurting her."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON inclines his head to Katyna as she leaves, then turns his gaze to Maira once more. "<Of course I will.>" He emits a strange sound like a static-laden buzzing growl, but there's no anger in his eyes. Only a deep concern. "<Thiz zituation iz hurting everyone, it zeemz. Zome more than otherz... and there iz no good anzwer to fix it.>" He gets up and rubs the back of his neck, a corner of his mouth rising in chagrin. "<But. Firzt thingz firzt: rezt and recovery, which haz been neglected az of late.>"

:'''[[Ulharisk]] has posed:''' Ulharisk raises an eye brow as she brings up him being fire touched, then listens to her explanation. Including catching on fire when she sleeps. Now, that is something you don't hear about. Then again-- there was once that story about a Draconian Guardian falling asleep in his.. ok. So Maybe he can /sorta/ understand in a silly story kind of way. He was never sure if it really happened or not. He cants his head as he listens to her talk to the others. He doesn't really remark until she is done talking to everyone. "Mm. My kind, us Draconians, are all very hearty against the heat. However we have a great weakness against colder climates. Thankfully in our world, it was very rare that we saw snow. Only during the cold winters that sometimes would come and cap the mountains with snow. The valley in those times stayed cool, yes, but tolerable." He then waves bye to Katrina and nods in agreement to TRON. "Yes. You should sleep Maira and with that." He motions to TRON and Deidra. "Up the stairs with the both of you. Lets go." He then will shoo them out with him right behind. Oh and yes, still enjoying his apple.

Code Repair

2013-04-27T06:19:24Z

Gridkeeper: Readjusting code so it would not eat text and throw the whole thing into italics

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/26
|Location=Traverse Town - Church
|Synopsis=In the aftermath of the attack on VALKYRI HQ, TRON is left with damage that can't be healed with magic, potions, or time. Fortunately, he happens to know a medical Program who can help...
|Cast of Characters=TRON, CADUCEUS
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON has been lying low since the incident at VALKYRI HQ, not out of fear of the increased DPS presence, but to give himself time to recover. By now, after much time resting and more than a few potions, most of the damage has been fixed... except one thing. His Disc. He has no idea how to explain it. He has had his original silver Disc damaged before, but never had it backlashed and caused errors. But when Angantyr had struck his newer chakram Disc back at him, what he /felt/... it can't be put into words, certainly not to Users. And it isn't fixing itself. His vocal capacities have been compromised, forcing him to reroute speech through his modulator, and there are other minor system errors that are aggrivating but little else. But since no amount of time or User-based healing seems to be working, he sent a message to CADUCEUS to have them meet in the Traverse Town church--neutral ground, and a place of spiritual healing. However, TRON himself is nowhere in sight within or around the premises.

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' The sound of a lightcycle whine is heard outside as CADUCEUS finally pushes the doors to the church open, coming in with a worried gaze. He had been busy treating people who were injured and when word came TRON needed him, the program worried and he holds his disk in hand as he enters. "Tron?" He calls out, concern in his electronic voice.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' "<Here.>" The distinctly modulated 'voice' of the Security Program in question echoes somewhat in the airy church, and a figure moves out from around one of the support pillars. Flickers of bluish-white light trace over his form as the black suit becomes white and the helm disappears, and TRON offers a rueful smile as he lifts a hand in greeting. "<My apologiez to call you in like thiz.>" CADUCEUS would notice that TRON's mouth isn't moving and his voice hasn't de-modulated as usual. "<But I need your help.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "By the users..." CADUCEUS says as he approaches Tron, looking him over and offering a shoulder to learn on should the security program need it. "I tried to keep others safe, but had I known the damage was this bad." He says as he moves his disk over the program now, green light flowing from the disk to scan the program, going over his status. "What happened?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON still shows signs of the battle, little more than minor fragmentation here-and-there at this point if the occassional bandage doesn't occlude it from view. He even seems to be standing and moving relatively well, considering. He does, however, take a seat on one of the pews so CADUCEUS could get to work. "<VALKYRI Headquarters were attacked by forcez of Darknezz. We ztopped them, but there waz...>" His 'voice' trails off for a moment, his brown eyes glancing away. "<The main attacker waz a good friend to zome within the group. The apparent betrayal hurt worze than the attack itzelf.>" CADUCEUS would quickly note the truth of his condition through his scans. Physically, TRON is doing well enough post-battle, but there are core errors and fragmentations that don't quite make sense by just scanning. TRON himself undocks his Discs, putting aside the silver one and holding out his white chakram Disc to the medic. "<Thiz iz the core problem.>" Sure enough, the surface of the Disc has long but shallow gashes on its surface on one side. "<The aggrezzor ztruck my Disc during the fight.> He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering blue, then he attempts to speak normally. "S-s-s-s-o I-I-I-I--" His voice sounds like it's skipping and stuttering, like a sound track that can't play properly. He stops suddenly, shaking his head with a grimace, then the modulated 'voice' kicks in again. "<Zo I tried to give it time, but it iz not going away.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "Damage to a data disk, no matter how minor is still quite serious, Tron." CADUCEUS says as he puts the disk away to take Tron's white disc and looks it over with a serious gaze. He then puts his disc against Tron's and green light locks them in place. "Going to use a special type of Repair code I developed for programs in the games, some would come back with massive chunks missing from the discs, I developed a self regeneration code which should restore the damage done, however it requires you to not use this disk or it may make the damage worse." CADUCEUS warns as he begins the process, the green disc beginning to flood the data disk with specialized code meant to find and repair the damage done. "If you rather it be fixed quick, I can do the repairs manually as the code finds them."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON shakes his head at CADUCEUS' rebuke. "<Yez, I know. I have zeen it myzelf. But I also know you have your own dutiez to focuz on.>" His gaze shifts towards the doors, his mouth pulling down to a concerned frown. "<And there are otherz that are still hurt very deeply indeed... But no amount of healing can repair the heart.>" He almost visibly considers the options at hand as he watches the medic work. "<That Disc,>" he motions to the chakram Disc in CADUCEUS' hands, "<will not be uzed in battle again unlezz I muzt.>" He folds his hands on his lap, closing his eyes and not quite hiding a faint grimace as he can /sense/ the repair code beginning to work. It's not painful at all, but it's a very odd feeling. Again, beyond his ability to describe. "<We should probably let the code work az intended. I am in no rush to return to battle. But you are the medic, and I will follow your directivez.>" His head cants faintly. "<Thiz remindz me. How iz your baton concept coming along?>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "I believe I have made it capable for use in combat outside controlled testing. And as a doctor I would recommend rest either way. However, as a Medic I believe I can do some fixing right now which should hasten the process and have the code do a double check over any mistakes I may make." CADUCEUS says calmly. "I am tired of sitting on the sidelines, healing the injured knowing there are still people going to hurt others." He says calmly. "I know I am designed to not be used in combat but I am so tired of seeing others get derezzed when it could have been prevented." He says as if it happened before.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON smiles reassuringly. "<You have my truzt. If you can at leazt reztore my voice to proper parameterz, I will be zatizfied to let the code fix the rezt on itz own time.>" He rubs his chin and mouth thoughtfully with one hand as he absently begins to twirl his silver Disc in the other. "<CADUCEUS, you /are/ fighting. Yez, you are not involved directly in battling thoze who would cauze harm, but your work iz a battle againzt unzeen forcez. Dezpair, hurt, lozz, that which deztabilizez from within and without.>" He shakes his head. "<Combat iz not the only way to fight. There are warz of information, battlez of will. Phyzical fighting iz zimply the most obviouz and eaziezt.>" He offers a lopsided grin past his hand. "<And zome of uz know little elze.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' CADUCEUS watches the code and begins to flick his fingers at more pieces of light. "I may be able to repair the damage to your voice, but you will stutter until the code is completely done." He says calmly as he continues to push buttons. Tron may feel a slight tingling as well a slight greenish hue as the medical program tries to restore his voice.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON keeps the visibility of is discomfort to a minimum, but one eye is held a little more closed than the other. His throat feels like it's itching, or like he's a step away from coughing, but he locks down the sensation the best he can. He does note that his programming-lines have shifted to a bright teal color, though does not seem alarmed by it. In reply to the medic's explanation, he simply states, "<Underztood.>" And from there, he falls silent to let CADUCEUS fully focus on his work with minimal interruption or distraction. He's still twirling his silver Disc, however, weaving the circular object between his fingers as if it was an oversized poker chip.

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' CADUCEUS continues his work for a few moments and finally he unlocks the disk. "Lock this back into position and you should notice the repairs and the code healing." He says as he hands the program his disc before looking to his own. "How many other people were injured? Do I need to see any of the group your with?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON accepts his white Disc back and immediately redocks it onto the spindle between his shoulder-blades. His body automatically stiffens ramrod straight as the new code is uploaded, his eyes flashing white before he relaxes once more. "<Confirmed. The repairz are now a background procezz.>" He still does not open his mouth despite the continued audio, though his program-lines return to their standard bluish-white color. Only now does he rub at his throat, trying to ease the strange itchy feeling, and audibly clears his throat to boot. "<My vocal procezzez will continue to be routed through my modulator until the repairz are complete.>" His eyes narrow as he thinks back on who was also present fighting against Angantyr. "<If there are, they would ztill be in our temporary lodgingz in the inn acrozz the ztreet.>" He stands up and redocks his silver Disc over the white one, completely occluding it from sight. "<Follow me.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "Alright. I will give everyone a look over and tend to any injuries there are. As for the battles, I was designed to be on frontline conflict applying aid. I believe I will test those procedures in the coming cycles." CADUCEUS says as he follows allongside Tron.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods once and smiles as he starts walking. "<Any aid you can give iz alwayz welcome, CADUCEUS. Never believe otherwize.>" As he walks, his program lines deactivate and his suit shifts to black. His helm rezzes over his head, occluding his face once again to give him the appearance of an unidentified Program. "<We need all the help we can get.>"

Code Repair

2013-04-27T05:57:41Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/26 |Location=Traverse Town - Church |Synopsis=In the aftermath of the attack on VALKYRI HQ, TRON is left with damage that can't be healed w..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/26
|Location=Traverse Town - Church
|Synopsis=In the aftermath of the attack on VALKYRI HQ, TRON is left with damage that can't be healed with magic, potions, or time. Fortunately, he happens to know a medical Program who can help...
|Cast of Characters=TRON, CADUCEUS
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON has been lying low since the incident at VALKYRI HQ, not out of fear of the increased DPS presence, but to give himself time to recover. By now, after much time resting and more than a few potions, most of the damage has been fixed... except one thing. His Disc. He has no idea how to explain it. He has had his original silver Disc damaged before, but never had it backlashed and caused errors. But when Angantyr had struck his newer chakram Disc back at him, what he /felt/... it can't be put into words, certainly not to Users. And it isn't fixing itself. His vocal capacities have been compromised, forcing him to reroute speech through his modulator, and there are other minor system errors that are aggrivating but little else. But since no amount of time or User-based healing seems to be working, he sent a message to CADUCEUS to have them meet in the Traverse Town church--neutral ground, and a place of spiritual healing. However, TRON himself is nowhere in sight within or around the premises.

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' The sound of a lightcycle whine is heard outside as CADUCEUS finally pushes the doors to the church open, coming in with a worried gaze. He had been busy treating people who were injured and when word came TRON needed him, the program worried and he holds his disk in hand as he enters. "Tron?" He calls out, concern in his electronic voice.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' "<Here.>" The distinctly modulated 'voice' of the Security Program in question echoes somewhat in the airy church, and a figure moves out from around one of the support pillars. Flickers of bluish-white light trace over his form as the black suit becomes white and the helm disappears, and TRON offers a rueful smile as he lifts a hand in greeting. "" CADUCEUS would notice that TRON's mouth isn't moving and his voice hasn't de-modulated as usual. "<But I need your help.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "By the users..." CADUCEUS says as he approaches Tron, looking him over and offering a shoulder to learn on should the security program need it. "I tried to keep others safe, but had I known the damage was this bad." He says as he moves his disk over the program now, green light flowing from the disk to scan the program, going over his status. "What happened?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON still shows signs of the battle, little more than minor fragmentation here-and-there at this point if the occassional bandage doesn't occlude it from view. He even seems to be standing and moving relatively well, considering. He does, however, take a seat on one of the pews so CADUCEUS could get to work. "<VALKYRI Headquarters were attacked by forcez of Darknezz. We ztopped them, but there waz...>" His 'voice' trails off for a moment, his brown eyes glancing away. "<The main attacker waz a good friend to zome within the group. The apparent betrayal hurt worze than the attack itzelf.>" CADUCEUS would quickly note the truth of his condition through his scans. Physically, TRON is doing well enough post-battle, but there are core errors and fragmentations that don't quite make sense by just scanning. TRON himself undocks his Discs, putting aside the silver one and holding out his white chakram Disc to the medic. "<Thiz iz the core problem.>" Sure enough, the surface of the Disc has long but shallow gashes on its surface on one side. "<The aggrezzor ztruck my Disc during the fight.> He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering blue, then he attempts to speak normally. "S-s-s-s-o I-I-I-I--" His voice sounds like it's skipping and stuttering, like a sound track that can't play properly. He stops suddenly, shaking his head with a grimace, then the modulated 'voice' kicks in again. "<Zo I tried to give it time, but it iz not going away.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "Damage to a data disk, no matter how minor is still quite serious, Tron." CADUCEUS says as he puts the disk away to take Tron's white disc and looks it over with a serious gaze. He then puts his disc against Tron's and green light locks them in place. "Going to use a special type of Repair code I developed for programs in the games, some would come back with massive chunks missing from the discs, I developed a self regeneration code which should restore the damage done, however it requires you to not use this disk or it may make the damage worse." CADUCEUS warns as he begins the process, the green disc beginning to flood the data disk with specialized code meant to find and repair the damage done. "If you rather it be fixed quick, I can do the repairs manually as the code finds them."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON shakes his head at CADUCEUS' rebuke. "" His gaze shifts towards the doors, his mouth pulling down to a concerned frown. "<And there are otherz that are still hurt very deeply indeed... But no amount of healing can repair the heart.>" He almost visibly considers the options at hand as he watches the medic work. "" he motions to the chakram Disc in CADUCEUS' hands, "<in battle again unlezz I muzt.>" He folds his hands on his lap, closing his eyes and not quite hiding a faint grimace as he can /sense/ the repair code beginning to work. It's not painful at all, but it's a very odd feeling. Again, beyond his ability to describe. "" His head cants faintly. "<Thiz remindz me. How iz your baton concept coming along?>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "I believe I have made it capable for use in combat outside controlled testing. And as a doctor I would recommend rest either way. However, as a Medic I believe I can do some fixing right now which should hasten the process and have the code do a double check over any mistakes I may make." CADUCEUS says calmly. "I am tired of sitting on the sidelines, healing the injured knowing there are still people going to hurt others." He says calmly. "I know I am designed to not be used in combat but I am so tired of seeing others get derezzed when it could have been prevented." He says as if it happened before.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON smiles reassuringly. "" He rubs his chin and mouth thoughtfully with one hand as he absently begins to twirl his silver Disc in the other. "<CADUCEUS, you /are/ fighting. Yez, you are not involved directly in battling thoze who would cauze harm, but your work iz a battle againzt unzeen forcez. Dezpair, hurt, lozz, that which deztabilizez from within and without.>" He shakes his head. "<Combat iz not the only way to fight. There are warz of information, battlez of will. Phyzical fighting iz zimply the most obviouz and eaziezt.>" He offers a lopsided grin past his hand. "<And zome of uz know little elze.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' CADUCEUS watches the code and begins to flick his fingers at more pieces of light. "I may be able to repair the damage to your voice, but you will stutter until the code is completely done." He says calmly as he continues to push buttons. Tron may feel a slight tingling as well a slight greenish hue as the medical program tries to restore his voice.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON keeps the visibility of is discomfort to a minimum, but one eye is held a little more closed than the other. His throat feels like it's itching, or like he's a step away from coughing, but he locks down the sensation the best he can. He does note that his programming-lines have shifted to a bright teal color, though does not seem alarmed by it. In reply to the medic's explanation, he simply states, "<Underztood.>" And from there, he falls silent to let CADUCEUS fully focus on his work with minimal interruption or distraction. He's still twirling his silver Disc, however, weaving the circular object between his fingers as if it was an oversized poker chip.

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' CADUCEUS continues his work for a few moments and finally he unlocks the disk. "Lock this back into position and you should notice the repairs and the code healing." He says as he hands the program his disc before looking to his own. "How many other people were injured? Do I need to see any of the group your with?"

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON accepts his white Disc back and immediately redocks it onto the spindle between his shoulder-blades. His body automatically stiffens ramrod straight as the new code is uploaded, his eyes flashing white before he relaxes once more. "<Confirmed. The repairz are now a background procezz.>" He still does not open his mouth despite the continued audio, though his program-lines return to their standard bluish-white color. Only now does he rub at his throat, trying to ease the strange itchy feeling, and audibly clears his throat to boot. "" His eyes narrow as he thinks back on who was also present fighting against Angantyr. "<If there are, they would ztill be in our temporary lodgingz in the inn acrozz the ztreet.>" He stands up and redocks his silver Disc over the white one, completely occluding it from sight. "<I'll lead you there.>"

:'''[[CADUCEUS]] has posed:''' "Alright. I will give everyone a look over and tend to any injuries there are. As for the battles, I was designed to be on frontline conflict applying aid. I believe I will test those procedures in the coming cycles." CADUCEUS says as he follows allongside Tron.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON nods once and smiles as he starts walking. "<Any aid you can give iz alwayz welcome, CADUCEUS. Never believe otherwize.>" As he walks, his program lines deactivate and his suit shifts to black. His helm rezzes over his head, occluding his face once again to give him the appearance of an unidentified Program. "<We need all the help we can get.>"

By The Pricking Of My Thumbs...

2013-04-24T07:24:18Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Cutscene Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/23
|Location=Palamecia Castle
|Synopsis=Deep within the heart of the castle, deep in the dark of night, the Emperor is deep in thought. Considering what he has learned, those he has met, and what could be next in store.
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus
}}
It is deep into the night under the new moon, the perpetual clouds blocking most of the stars from view, casting the land of Palamecia and the castle of its Emperor into deep darkness. The villagers and soldiers are deep asleep, unaware of their lord and master sitting upon his throne in the indeterminable time between late night and early morning.

Only shadows remain at his beck and call, and flickers of gold scatter throughout the grand hall as the darkness writhes. But it never encroaches beyond its borders, never tests the limits of its boundaries. It is held, it is controlled, but it is left free unto itself.

Emperor Mateus reclines over his throne, one leg lazily hooked over an armrest with his elbow planted on the other and his jaw resting on his upraised fist. He wears not standard Palamecian clothing or armor, but a smart black suit with a deep royal purple collared shirt with a loosened gold-flecked tie hanging from his neck. An interesting expression is on the sorcerer's face: contentment, bemusement, scorn, even arrogance. His lavender eyes even glint in the darkness, though not with light from within or the torches—but a strange, violet-tinged 'black light'.

Crystal orbs float above and around himself, never falling lower than his own eye level, spiraling in varying intervals and orbits no differently than the concept of a 'solar system'. His free hand slowly waves through the air, shifting through the invisible atmosphere as one would move through water, stirring the floating orbs as a gentle current would shift bubbles.

His hand stills, wrist gracefully twisting as his palm turns upwards, and the orbs tighten their spirals onto the same orbit above the limb, lazily bobbing after each other. They each suddenly erupt in purple-black flame forming a fiery ring of black light. “So intriguing, this new concept of reality. Worlds merging and gathering, seeking protection from the night, and their inhabitants acting no differently. They only understand what they want to accept, reject what is beyond their concept of morality...”

An orb drifts down from the ring as an image coalesces in its midst. It is of Maira, sitting on the beach magically playing with her fire. “...Naive in their concepts of 'good' and 'evil', leaving themselves corruptible and weak. Even the brightest of stars burn themselves dark in places.” He carelessly tosses that orb off to the side, where it shatters upon hitting the ground in a flare of black light writhing like it is in pain.

Another orb spins around his raised wrist, an image forming of Souji Murasame walking along a dirt path with suitcase in hand. “Eager in the chance to take, without taking a chance to suspect. Taking what is mine always has a price, no matter how low or high, and contracts not writ in stone cannot be set as such.” He flicks that orb high into the air, watching as it shatters on a support beam high above, but nothing drifts down nor falls upon the Emperor.

The ring flares, the building flames twisting into themselves like a visible cyclone, and an image of Guadosalam blooms in its midst. “Content in hypocrisy, ambivalent at best and apathetic at worst. These strange peoples in particular are neither enemy nor friend... but perhaps, someday, useful.” The dark fire consumes the image of the great tree before dying back down to the blacklit fiery ring.

Another orb sinks, this one trailing down his arm to rest in the crook of his elbow. Rena Laradyne’s image appears, seated on the ground with two coeurls prowling around her curiously. “Full of mystery, of darkness as yet untapped. Full of wonder for the unknown, yet so world-weary that escape is preferred than spending another moment trapped within it.”

The image zooms closer to her face, keen interest focusing on that orb as a hawk would view a wandering field mouse. “I have offered much, my dear, and my honesty and calculated ‘vulnerability’ has revealed much about you indeed. What you plan to do with my gifts is yet to be seen...” He flicks the orb into the air, letting it hover near his head like a dark will-of-the-wisp. “But there is time enough. I am of a patient sort, and the best things in life take time to bloom and bear fruit.”

He slinks out of his chair and rises to his feet, the wispy orb following his every move, and he removes his hand from under the fiery ring. The remaining two orbs slow noticeably, dispersing the ring they created in their wake, before beginning a new series of loops, of intersecting orbits around his neglected staff propped up and hidden at the back of the throne. The strange gem at its top glows, the staff hovering and following the Emperor as he begins descending down the stairs, and the remaining two unmarked orbs still wreathed in dark fire swoop to hover before him.

One shows the strange black-hooded visitor he met only once. He touches the orb bearing the robed visage with fingertips parting the flame, eyes narrowing in consideration. “I keep what is mine, regardless of what import others find in them. My people, my tools, my land, my knowledge.” He lets the orb fall, shattering into nothingness against the carpet that covers the stairs. “But with that said... I keep my word.” The dying flame curls into a fading image of his Dark Knight before dissipating. “As you have yours.”

His gaze finally falls upon the final orb, bearing the countenance of one flamboyant Alexandrian advisor, whom is proving to be a hero’s bane as of late. “And perhaps ‘tis time I extended the hand of diplomacy once more. Common ground should not be churned under the hooves of war.” He reaches out to envelop the orb, crushing it in his grasp as one would crumple paper. “But if war is truly what you seek, then we shall see where matters stand before commitments are required.”

He spreads his arms out wide, a cruel smile tearing his youthful face as his chin gracefully dips towards his chest, and his staff spins rapidly above his head as it is enveloped in dark flame. His voice drops to an ominous tenor, an almost lullaby-like quality tinting his tone. “~Come, my children. Rise, my minions. Know your master’s voice.~”

The shadows around him surge, the flickers of gold solidifying into pairs of golden orbs and multiplying by the moment. Flashes of metal could even be picked up in the waning torchlight threatened by the encroachment of the Dark. He lifts his hands above his head, the staff stilling between his hands without touching them so it is parallel to the ground with the staff’s claw-like tip pointing forwards.

“Let us feed,” his staff rights to point straight down at his feet from above his head, “and feed well.”

With a snap of the arms back down to his sides, the staff drives down like a piledriver to the floor, a pulse of purplish energy rippling through the Darkness around him. In the very next moment, the light of the torches flares back to their full brightness, revealing nothing and no-one left in their illumination of the throne room, which has been left undisturbed.

By The Pricking Of My Thumbs...

2013-04-24T07:15:47Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Cutscene Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/23 |Location=Palamecia Castle |Synopsis=Deep within the heart of the castle, deep in the dark of night, the Emperor is deep in thought..."

{{Cutscene Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/23
|Location=Palamecia Castle
|Synopsis=Deep within the heart of the castle, deep in the dark of night, the Emperor is deep in thought. Considering what he has learned, those he has met, and what is next in store.
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus
}}
It is deep into the night under the new moon, the perpetual clouds blocking most of the stars from view, casting the land of Palamecia and the castle of its Emperor into deep darkness. The villagers and soldiers are deep asleep, unaware of their lord and master sitting upon his throne in the indeterminable time between late night and early morning.

Only shadows remain at his beck and call, and flickers of gold scatter throughout the grand hall as the darkness writhes. But it never encroaches beyond its borders, never tests the limits of its boundaries. It is held, it is controlled, but it is left free unto itself.

Emperor Mateus reclines over his throne, one leg lazily hooked over an armrest with his elbow planted on the other and his jaw resting on his upraised fist. He wears not standard Palamecian clothing or armor, but a smart black suit with a deep royal purple collared shirt with a loosened gold-flecked tie hanging from his neck. An interesting expression is on his face: contentment, bemusement, scorn, even arrogance. His lavender eyes even glint in the darkness, though not with light from within or the torches—but a strange, violet-tinged 'black light'.

Crystal orbs float above and around himself, never falling lower than his own eye level, spiraling in varying intervals and orbits no differently than the concept of a 'solar system'. His free hand slowly waves through the air, shifting through the invisible atmosphere as one would move through water, stirring the floating orbs as a gentle current would shift bubbles.

His hand stills, wrist gracefully twisting as his palm turns upwards, and the orbs tighten their spirals onto the same orbit above the limb, lazily bobbing after each other. They each suddenly erupt in purple-black flame forming a fiery ring of black light. “So intriguing, this new concept of reality. Worlds merging and gathering, seeking protection from the night, and their inhabitants acting no differently. They only understand what they want to accept, reject what is beyond their concept of morality...”

An orb drifts down from the ring as an image coalesces in its midst. It is of Maira, sitting on the beach magically playing with her fire. “...Naive in their concepts of 'good' and 'evil', leaving themselves corruptible and weak. Even the brightest of stars burn themselves dark in places.” He carelessly tosses that orb off to the side, where it shatters upon hitting the ground in a flare of black light writhing like it is in pain.

Another orb spins around his raised wrist, an image forming of Souji Murasame walking along a dirt path with suitcase in hand. “Eager in the chance to take, without taking a chance to suspect. Taking what is mine always has a price, no matter how low or high, and contracts not writ in stone cannot be set as such.” He flicks that orb high into the air, watching as it shatters on a support beam high above, but nothing drifts down nor falls upon the Emperor.

The ring flares, the building flames twisting into themselves like a visible cyclone, and an image of Guadosalam blooms in its midst. “Content in hypocrisy, ambivalent at best and apathetic at worst. These strange peoples in particular are neither enemy nor friend... but perhaps, someday, useful.” The dark fire consumes the image of the great tree before dying back down to the blacklit fiery ring.

Another orb sinks, this one trailing down his arm to rest in the crook of his elbow. Rena Laradyne’s image appears, seated on the ground with two coeurls prowling around her curiously. “Full of mystery, of darkness as yet untapped. Full of wonder for the unknown, yet so world-weary that escape is preferred than spending another moment trapped within it.”

The image zooms closer to her face, keen interest focusing on that orb as a hawk would view a wandering field mouse. “I have offered much, my dear, and my honesty and calculated ‘vulnerability’ has revealed much about you indeed. What you plan to do with my gifts is yet to be seen...” He flicks the orb into the air, letting it hover near his head like a dark will-of-the-wisp. “But there is time enough. I am of a patient sort, and the best things in life take time to bloom and bear fruit.”

He slinks out of his chair and rises to his feet, the wispy orb following his every move, and he removes his hand from under the fiery ring. The remaining two orbs slow noticeably, dispersing the ring they created in their wake, before beginning a new series of loops, of intersecting orbits around his neglected staff propped up and hidden at the back of the throne. The strange gem at its top glows, the staff hovering and following the Emperor as he begins descending down the stairs, and the remaining two unmarked orbs still wreathed in dark fire swoop to hover before him.

One shows the strange black-hooded visitor he met only once. He touches the orb bearing the robed visage with fingertips parting the flame, eyes narrowing in consideration. “I keep what is mine, regardless of what import others find in them. My people, my tools, my land, my knowledge.” He lets the orb fall, shattering into nothingness against the carpet that covers the stairs. “But with that said... I keep my word.” The dying flame curls into a fading image of his Dark Knight before dissipating. “As you have yours.”

His gaze finally falls upon the final orb, bearing the countenance of one flamboyant Alexandrian advisor, whom is proving to be a hero’s bane as of late. “And perhaps ‘tis time I extended the hand of diplomacy once more. Common ground should not be churned under the hooves of war.” He reaches out to envelop the orb, crushing it in his grasp as one would crumple paper. “But if war is truly what you seek, then we shall see where matters stand before commitments are required.”

He spreads his arms out wide, a cruel smile tearing his youthful face as his chin gracefully dips towards his chest, and his staff spins rapidly above his head as it is enveloped in dark flame. His voice drops to an ominous tenor, an almost lullaby-like quality tinting his tone. “~Come, my children. Rise, my minions. Know your master’s voice.~”

The shadows around him surge, the flickers of gold solidifying into pairs of golden orbs and multiplying by the moment. Flashes of metal could even be picked up in the waning torchlight threatened by the encroachment of the Dark. He lifts his hands above his head, the staff stilling between his hands without touching them so it is parallel to the ground with the staff’s claw-like tip pointing forwards.

“Let us feed,” his staff rights to point straight down at his feet from above his head, “and feed well.”

With a snap of the arms back down to his sides, the staff drives down like a piledriver to the floor, a pulse of purplish energy rippling through the Darkness around him. In the very next moment, the light of the torches flares back to their full brightness, revealing nothing and no-one left in their illumination of the throne room, which has been left undisturbed.

Coliseum Field Trip

2013-04-24T06:52:16Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/22 |Location=Palamecia - Coliseum |Synopsis=In continuation of testing Rena's interests, Emperor Mateus gives her a tour of the Palamecian ..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/22
|Location=Palamecia - Coliseum
|Synopsis=In continuation of testing Rena's interests, Emperor Mateus gives her a tour of the Palamecian Coliseum and a view of monsters she finds familiar and unknown alike.
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus, Rena Laradyne
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' It is a somewhat overcast day in Palamecia as a small procession on horseback trot across the land. Emperor Mateus leads the way personally, with Rena having her choice either by his side or behind him, and a small squad of knights flank on both sides as well as protect the rear. Though the Emperor of Palamecia had promised Rena a pass to visit the Coliseum on her own time, he had instead offered to accompany her this time with a ‘formal inspection’ as the official reason. It may also be a measure of apology for the harsh exchange they had over this place not long ago. With spotty clouds casting visible rays of morning sunlight through them, the Palamecian Coliseum eventually winds into view. From a distance, it indeed seems old and run-down with little care taken of it. But as one comes closer, the chipped and cracked stone forming its outer appearance becomes less rickety and more cosmetic, with structures clearly still solid beneath. In fact, there is little to no sign of actual structural degradation. A small outpost has been built just outside the enormous structure, with the basic amenities such as stables and barracks. It is here that the procession stops to shelter the horses and the Knights take watch posts in the outpost itself. The entrance to the Coliseum is barely a few hundred yards away, flanked by guards with a small ‘ticket office’, for lack of a better term, built into the walls itself. The unmistakable sound of a behemoth’s roar echoes from somewhere deep within, causing one of Mateus’ eyebrows to rise. “He’s early,” he remarks dryly, brushing dust off of his purple-and-gold armor before turning his attention to Rena. “How fare you, my lady?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' The Shivan seems markedly more relaxed once they leave the castle environments and make their way through the forest and then down the winding path of the mountains to the Coliseum. Her eyes drink in the surroundings, listening to the sounds that filter in from past the small entourage. When they come upon the Coliseum and examine it from a much closer vantage she laughs with delight as she starts to spot the tell tale signs of artifice and camoflague in the working of the outer facade. Rena pets the neck of her horse before dismounting, patting their side gently as she leaves the stables. Her eyes sparkle with amusement, head tilted like a bird to one side as the sound of a behemoth rumbles from within. With all the care of a child going to visit a zoo, she brushes off her leather armor and takes her gloves off, stuffing them into a pocket. "Quite well, thank you. A short and uncomplicated journey is always to be appreciated. And the morning has just started, so I am looking forwards to this."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles warmly, clapping his hands together in front of his chest. “Excellent to hear!” The fact Rena is already enjoying herself brings out that boyish wonder of his own by proxy, since fun is quite infectious--in a good way. “Then let us begin!” With a flourish, he offers his arm to Rena as a gentleman then moves to enter the Coliseum proper. The guards need no orders, verbal or otherwise, opening the gates to allow them passage with only salutes to greet them. “This Coliseum was built by my ancestors long ago, intended for military drills and horsemanship exhibitions, but it expanded to include gladiatorial combat between men or monster-and-men. Considering how hated Palamecia was by the rest of my world, it was an appropriate morale booster and diplomatic showcase... at least until military force became necessary.” Entering puts them in a smallish square entryway, with deep sandstone forming the walls illuminated by stout torchlight and teal or turquoise marble stone tile forms the floors. The gates behind them close and lock before another set of gates opens in front of them to allow them full admittance. “When my world fell, I suspended military and gladiatorial activities and turned it into a temporary ‘zoo’, if you will. It has been quite helpful for my tamers, if none else.” The color and quality of the stonework and lighting continues into the main foyer, most likely being indicative to the rest of the Coliseum. Staircases flank each side of the main foyer and lead upwards, most likely to actual spectator seating, but Mateus instead moves forwards to a smaller doorway which has yet another locked gate but no guards. Beyond it is a wide dirt expanse structured as a circular arena, with the opposite side barred by a small gate and flanked by the heraldic crest of Palamecia on each side. “Past this point is the heart of the Coliseum, which is currently used as an exercise pen for the monsters, if not a training area,” he explains, indicating to the dirt expanse beyond. “On the other side,” he points to the other small gate across the way, “is admittance to my private seating.” He taps the gate experimentally. “Though if this is barred so early...” He looks towards the stairs. “Shall we go to a better vantage point to see what is about to happen?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena takes the proffered arm with a small smile, looking around with interest at the architecture and listening to the history of the place being rolled out before her like a carpet. "A pity." she says as he talks about the coliseum. "But then, everything goes in cycles. Words are often cheaply sold, but matching actions to thoughts is often a great deal easier. My people have similar trials, and for similar reasons. Though perhaps ours persisted longer as a showcase of skill because no great armies would survive on Shiva's Ice for long unprepared." She then falls quiet and follows and listens. She looks at the barred gate with some curiosity and nods. "Yes. I would very much like to see what is about to happen. After you."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus grins and leads Rena up one of the staircases, which turns 90-degrees in the middle before opening into a view of the arena itself. The lowest seats are perhaps 15-feet high from ground level, with each seat tiered about a foot higher the further back you go. This creates a bowl effect, or stadium seating. Mateus himself moves to the closest seats and leans forwards against the railing, lavender eyes keenly taking in the sights. The center court is surprisingly clear of guards, only one or two wearing a specific mix of darkened chainmail and leather seeming to be in the midst of a discussion. To their left, the circle seems to have had a square addition built into it, with a large iron gate barring what is perhaps a square holding cell. You can even hear and see movement beyond the gate. “Ahhhh, I see.” The Emperor’s voice holds sudden understanding and a spike of interest. “It seems one of my tamers is aiming for a promotion. You see, the monsters a trainer is able to command is based on their rank, which is based on their ability by turn.” He motions towards the holding cell. “If they can command the beast without harming it, they will succeed.” Another behemoth roar echoes, much more loudly this time with the closer proximity, sounding like it originates from the holding cell. “And they are using him to do so? The testee must be aiming for the master rank, then.” He conjures two goblets and a closed pitcher, the latter floating in midair, and offers one of the goblets to Rena. “Anything to drink while we see how they do?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena raises an eyebrow in interest as they take their seats. Rena gingerly settles herself down as she casts an eye out over the stadium seating with appreciation. As she tries to make herself comfortable she interlaced her fingers in her lap, leaning back against the seat as she graciously attempts one of the goblets. She does not immediately drink but rather takes in a breath and watches the liquid slosh around in the goblet for a moment as she turns her eyes towards the central court. "I see. I'll have to look into what sort of monsters roam your wilderness, and what worth they are assigned." she smiles slightly, a knowing expression flickering across her face as another roar ripples through the coliseum. "Well. They do sound irate, don't they? Let's see how the tamer manages."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The two chainmail-wearing soldiers split, their implied conversation done. One disappears from sight, the other moves to the center of the arena, then lifts one glove to his mouth and issues a piercing whistle. Immediately, the gate begins to rise and the moving shadows beyond still. “I’m sure you shall not be disappointed, my lady.” Emperor Mateus slinks into his seat, sipping at his goblet knowingly. “And so it begins.” The gate continues to climb, the wrought metal clanking against unseen gears and chains, but nothing crashes against it nor shows the faintest hint of rushing the process. Only when the gate is fully up and all sounds of mechanisms cease do two glowing yellow slits appear in the darkness within the holding cell. It isn’t until two short, sharp notes resound from the soldier in the center of the area that movement is seen. As the behemoth slinks out of the cell warily, shaking its massive body much as a dog after a bath, its features become very distinct from the wild Archadian behemoth recently captured. Yellowish horns, wickedly pointed but smooth, and claws similarly colored but with purple pointed tips at the ends stand out clearly against the gunmetal-gray hide. A shock of burnt-orange mane matches the skin between the individual spines of its spinal fin. Reddish tail-spikes indicative of its kind completes the look. It circles around the edge of the arena, its head low and predatory gaze pinned on the single man in its playground. The soldier is continually turning just enough to keep the beast in his sights, but apparently not matching gazes perfectly. One hand is outstretched but lowered, palm up, while the other is still in front of his face. A low tone echoes on the wind, the Behemoth pausing for a moment as if to listen, then the large beast reverses direction and continues stalking, but its head is raised a little higher and eyes don’t seem to be quite so narrowed now.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena rubs the back of one ear as she takes a sip from the goblet, her eyes pinned on the tamer just as intently as the behemoth. She watches him with quiet intensity, closing her eyes for a moment as she attempts to pick up the low tone that whistles briefly across the central courtyard. When she opens her eyes again she cuts a glance to Matthew and then back to consider the behemoth. It is similar and almost comfortingly familiar in a way. There were countless little differences in the fur and the horns but the general look of the behemoth was something she knew. She took in the general look of the creature and it's general demeanor, watching with fascination as her eyes rove between the tamer and the beast as they continue to circle each other.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus is also watching the proceedings with great interest, his expression relaxed but eyes sharp. In fact, it seems that he knows how the course of events is supposed to go and is keenly paying attention to the slightest possible mistake. The goblet seems to be almost forgotten in his hand with how much (apparent) carelessness it is held off to the side. Noticeably not spilling anything, however. A new tone sounds, a short note followed by a sweeping trill. The behemoth stops in its tracks and slowly turns to face the soldier, a low rumble not quite angry but not quite curious, but does not move beyond that. The soldier, for his part, swings his arm wide to point at a straw target at one of the compass points of the area, emitting a sharp triple-trill. Immediately the behemoth pounces with a roar, shredding the straw like wet paper, and once the target is negated, another triple-trill and point indicates another target for the behemoth to attack. This repeats two more times, straw and dust kicking up in the monster’s wake without quite occluding the ability to see what is going on, then another short-note-sweeping-trill combination stills the behemoth once more. It seems to slowly be panting, sides heaving with each circulation of air, and its claws grind through the dirt. Clearly it has become excited, though not to the point of breaking free from the soldier’s command over it. Mateus leans forwards incrementally but noticeably, his keen gaze sharpening and intensifying as well. “This is where it can get dangerous,” he murmurs to Rena, his voice barely above the sound of the behemoth’s breathing.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena takes another slip from her goblet and wishes quite suddenly for the luxury of popcorn. The shivan makes a mental note to get a supply of some of the excellent fluffy snack because it would do very well at the show she was being presented, and had been presented since the moment they left the castle. Oh, it was a brilliantly staged show to be sure. It had familiar elements and an interesting plot line. She hadn't skipped to the ending as of yet because she was allowing herself to enjoy the experience. Thus the craving for popcorn. The sounds of the sharp trilling tones reverberate and she smiles ever so softly, snorting faintly as she takes another drink. "Impressive." she murmurs after the straw has finished flying in all directions of the compass. Rena pushes a curl of hair back behind her ear and crosses her legs as she stretched languidly before resettling in the chair. "Like hunting hounds. Except.. that one would take a much bigger chunk out of your hand for a mistake." she matches her voice to his, making it quiet and continuing to watch attentively. "Let's see if he can hold onto it."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus hums softly in agreement, as this final trial would be the true test beyond the fun-and-games of merely commanding it. After all, anyone can command a monster--but can you control it without being consumed by it? The soldier raises his free hand and twists the wrist so that the palm is outstretched towards the behemoth in a ‘stop’ indication. A new series of notes resound, a long note immediately followed by two short, and it is quite clear that the gazes of soldier and behemoth have locked. The spinal fin on the behemoth’s back rises slightly as the mane bristles, reacting to the expression of dominance by the man, and its head lowers as its muzzle pulls back to reveal yellow teeth. But it does not turn aggressive, only hesitating. That specific series of notes sound again, and this time it is met with a low growl, the fin flexing as its weight shifts from one side to another. But after a moment further, the behemoth slowly stalks forwards, each paw-fall carrying almost ominous threatening promise as it keeps its head low. To the soldier’s credit, he does not move nor flinch as the large monster gets closer and closer, looming over him with horns pointed right at him. The behemoth hesitates once more, a low snarl and a shake of the mane marking aggravation but not aggression, then noses the soldier’s outstretched hand and presses against it. Seconds tick by, no doubt feeling like an eternity, then the soldier lifts his hand above his head in a sharp motion. The behemoth rears back onto its hind legs with a roar, tail swaying to maintain balance, then a piercing wail of a whistle overrides the monster’s call. The behemoth lands on all fours, then charges past the soldier back into the holding cell, which falls back down with a resounding CLANG! The Emperor of Palamecia sighs softly, shaking his head in obvious disappointment. “He failed. He let his guard down right before he would have issued that final command, and had there not been another ready to call it back, the behemoth would have struck him down.” He takes a sip from his goblet. “A pity. He had come so far. At least he still has his life and health, so he may try again another time.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena is momentarily tempted to tamper with the script to this play but she had made a commitment not to trespass on the good graces of her host. The aura of tension was exciting, almost an electric buzz of dominance in the central courtyard. She allows herself a small and bewildered gasp, like a child visiting a circus when the Behemoth rises up and.. then charges past in a rush. Rena frowns slightly in puzzlement before Matthew's explanation puts everything in perspective. She lets out a bit of a sigh herself, nodding her understanding of his words. "It certainly would have been a mess. How long is it until one can take the master trial again?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus thinks carefully. “It depends on the person. This tamer had completed the most difficult part, but lost control at the very end. Perhaps within another week or two at the earliest, should training tighten up his control.” He frowns. “The problem lies with the behemoth. It is far easier to pass this specific trial on the first try. Now this tamer is known to him, which means he will remember on the next trial and may not be so easy to command.” He shrugs, rises out of his chair, and stretches his arms above his head and arcs his back like a cat. “Still. ‘Twas a good show, and it has been some time since I have borne witness to the dance of man’s dominance over beast--or the lack thereof.” He dispels his goblet, though the floating pitcher comes to hover over one hand. “A refill before I show you one last area?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' "Everything costs. Even a moment of inattention." Rena responds lightly. "And whether he succeeds or not will have to be borne out by what he pays for his error." she gladly takes more from the floating pitcher. "Oh no." she shakes with a sly shake of the head. "Never a refill. The cup is never empty. Much like food, one simply has to put it aside temporarily now and then for the sake of politeness." when she has another draught and has taken a turn at it, she rises carefully from the chair herself. She rolls one shoulder and lets out a contented sigh as she gestures with the goblet. "Shall we go?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles at her reply. “Wise words indeed. Your perspective is so very refreshing.” He dispels the pitcher easily and leads the way back down the way they’d come, only this time the barred path into the arena itself has been opened. It is through this that Mateus leads Rena, tilting his head back and appreciating the view from within even as he crosses the arena. The walls around the arena seem much taller from ground level than looking down from the spectator seats, and there are more Palamecian emblems flanking the doors towards the entrance and on each side--matching compass points, in all truth. The ground is a dirt mix with few stones, but constantly stirred up so bad no vegetation can grow. The straw seems well-mixed into the dirt and by the way that fine fibers are mixed in already, they will not be cleaned up. The bits of metal, bone, and deteriorated fibers probably have very many stories to tell, but not necessarily this time around. The gate has been opened on the other side, allowing the duo to climb the stone stairs leading up to the Emperor’s private box. There are small seats towards the railing, about equivocal in height to the front-row spectator seats, but the throne is almost immediately eye-catching. Resting on an ornate floor rug of red with gold stitching throughout, the throne itself seems carved from a single block of silver marble, with curved lines and reliefs of various beasts and monsters throughout. On the back wall is an ornate Palamecian display shield, flanked on both sides by stone statues in the appearance of human gladiators or soldiers. Behind the throne and towards the west, the hallway continues with crossed axes adorning the sandstone walls and the teal/turquoise tile floor. Mateus motions towards that direction first. “That hall leads to the underground sectors, where untameable beasts and prisoners are held. It also has a catacomb that leads directly back to the castle, should you wish for quick access to either location.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena whistles very softly as the ground level is laid bare a piece at a time. She scoops up some of the dirt mix, crumbling it inbetween her fingers and then wiping them off as she inspects some of the fine fibers and bits of bone. She looks up and walks over to the display shield, reaching out to gently touch the surface as if she could read the history from it just from the imperfections underneath her fingertips. Her fingers graze the throne and then the leg of a stone soldier and across the hallway of sandstone. She peers down that avenue. "Hm. Untameable." she provides no context for the remark, merely nodding in understanding.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles softly. “I will see about showing you some of the monsters that have been tamed, such as the chimeras and perhaps even the behemoth itself. He should be calm after such an invigorating morning exercise.” He lifts off his feet, floating a few feet off the ground before seeming to sit in midair, more precisely nearly reclining. “And how have you found things to be so far, Lady Rena? To my eyes, you seem to be quite enjoying yourself.” The click-clack of nails on stone echo faintly from the hallway, though with no apparent movement to match. It still sounds like it’s still a fair distance away, likely back towards the supposed staircase leading to the underground sector. If the Emperor notices, he gives no indication of it just yet.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena smiles although there is a slightly vague quality to her smile as if she is distracted by something, her head turning just slightly towards the sound of clicking. Her attention slides back to him and it brightens noticeably. "I am indeed enjoying myself. I believe something in the manner of an apology is in order." She picks up the air as if curtseying with an invisible hem of cloth and sweeps it low as she continues to give that bemused, if slightly chagrined smile. "I do point out though that I've been captivated by such beasts from an early age so my appreciation sadly, is not particularly hard fought but genuine nonetheless. I apologize for scorning so."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus waves one hand as if to clear the air between them. “A genuine appreciation for beasts of any origin is to be admired. The fact you have a keen positive interest in this place is indicative enough to your true heart and mind, and let us leave our harsh words to each other as misunderstandings that have been cleared.” The click-clack gets louder, indicative of approaching paws, and the Emperor lands deftly on his feet as he tilts his head, listening closely. “Oh my, is that...?” A wide, brilliant smile lights up his face as he sweeps forwards, arms swinging wide. “Adina! Sekou!” He whistles a shrill, sweeping trill and unified cat-like yowls of excitement match the sudden appearance of two nearly identical cat-like monsters. Both are bluish-gray with black spots on their hide, their fur ticking in places to a dull gold or a dark silver, and red eyes flicker with keen intelligence. Their slender, long legs support a solid body and a single fleshy whisker on each side of the face waves and flows like extra tails, stretching down the length of the body to the hindquarters. They purr loudly as they circle around the Emperor, headbutting and weaving around each other while trying to get the maximum amount of attention from him. “Rena, these are my coeurls: the female, Adina,” he rests one hand on top of the more silvery one, “and the male, Sekou,” his other hand rubs under the chin of the golden one. “They have been at my side as far back as I can remember, when they were but kits and I myself was little bigger.” He chuckles a bit sadly. “So far, they are the only coeurls I have found that survived the fall of my world, so I keep them here for safekeeping. Palamecia used to be known for them.” He moves to the throne and takes a seat, the coeurls almost immediately curling around the base flanking each side. Only then does he inhale a deep breath as if to recover from the sudden onset of kitties. “Affectionate as ever, I see. Their claws can be poisonous and they can create a burst of light that may paralyze for a moment, so care is still needed.” He pauses, then rubs the back of his head a bit. “Forgive me if I state something obvious, I don’t know if you had coeurls on your world.” He motions for Rena to come close, though not seeming to be overly worried even after just giving a warning or two for health reasons. “Would you like to pet them? They won’t harm you without reason,” he visibly reconsiders, “though I suggest trying Sekou’s trust first. He is quite protective of Adina.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena's expression dims to just a small smile. The tight, close lipped expression radiates calm pleasure as she watches the keen eyed cats play with Matthew with kittenish abandon. Calmly, with a minimum of movement she turns to face the throne. She looks to Adina and then to Sekou then at Matthew. "It is good that you have something that was loved. I believe that is what some tamers ultimately forget. Fear is only one tool." she murmurs. "..of very many." "No." she says softly to him. "An explanation was required. I have never seen the like of these before. They are beautiful." she approaches calmly and with a minimum of movement. She slowly folds down, the large woman slowly going to her knees like a night blooming flower closing it's petals with the oncoming day. She sits with her hands in her lap and inclines her head respectfully to Sekou. She hums a very, very low note. It is a faint, jigging sound. A curious sound like something that can only be barely seen in a brush. A curious flash of something. An invitation to investigation. Rena lays out a hand, palm up. Not approaching but rather letting Sekou approach if he is at all curious. Not approaching Matthew or Adina. Simply waiting.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Both coeurls lift their heads as Rena moves, the rhythmic wave of their whiskers quickening as their red eyes pin on her. Emperor Mateus himself does not move, only watching in silence as to not interrupt the delicate moment at work. Sekou cants his head to the side briefly at the sound and the offered hand, his whiskers calming and his tufted ears perking in interest. His black nose flares as he scents the air, his mouth opening faintly as if to draw in more air, then he stretches his head towards Rena as far as he can without budging, still sniffing. His long tail twitches from side to side, the intelligence in those red eyes clearly at work, measuring her and her intentions. He seems to make a decision a few minutes in, somewhat rising and carefully slinking forwards without really rising off his belly to regard the offered hand more closely. Familiarizing her scent and gauging her as monsters often do. Adina seems to lose interest by proxy, resting her head on her front paws near Matthew’s feet with red eyes half-closed and whiskers nearly resting on the ground around her curled form.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena turns her head away from Sekou, tucking her head into her shoulder. She seems to lose interest in them, that small smile still on her face as she half-lids her eyes, staring off into the wall. Her body does not move. Her chest barely moves as she breathes in and out shallowly. The jigging note weaves into a faint melody. Pause. Note. Faint melody. No louder or insistent than a draft down the corridor. Rena rolls her head up towards the ceiling and then down at Sekou, her hand reaching up slowly and attempting to lightly brush against the shoulder with the back of her hand like the friendly brush of another cat.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Sekou’s pelt tremors under Rena’s touch and his whiskers arc noticeably as his head swivels to regard the ‘offending’ hand. Nothing really comes of it, as he just snorts softly and returns his attention to Rena herself. He shifts still closer, circling around her and sizing her up, rising up on his legs back to his full height--equivocal to an Earthen big cat or so. He then sticks his muzzle up close to her face, noses almost touching, then nudges at the bridge of her nose with his face before turning back to the throne and trotting away. He then plops down with a ‘chuf’ sound, not quite a purr but close, settling down and seeming content with whatever he’d determined. Matthew himself claps a bit, a soft sound for the time being. “I’m impressed. Sekou saw something in you, but it seems lifelong loyalty wins out over feline curiosity.” He smiles warmly, leaning over to pet both coeurls. “Perhaps you could become a tamer yourself?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena returns her hands to her lap and her posture shifts, relaxing so that she slides into a languid seated position with one hand keeping her upright much in the manner that the cats were lounging curled around the base of the throne. "As well it should. A moment's curiosity was all I was bargaining for." Rena chuckles quietly. "And perhaps. Certainly I have been looking for something to do with my time." she sighs, digging one hand into her hair and teasing out the threads until they slip around her shoulder. "..and it has been one of the options I have been.. considering."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' “Fufufu...” The Emperor’s chuckle sounds at once pleased and supportive. “You are free to do as you wish, my lady. My home is yours, my land is free for your perusal, and I am curious to see what path you shall yet carve for yourself. But perhaps, that is a tale yet to be told.” He reclines back on his throne, a sigh settling his shoulders, and looks just about as content as his coeurls. “So much left to see and do... But perhaps a meal is in order before we continue our tour?” He looks towards the clouds beyond the imperial skybox. “It might be almost high noon by now.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' "Always the wanderer's question. In a world of freedom, which thing to reach for first?" Rena chuckles and rises slowly back onto her feet, brushing her leather armor off as she does so. "And in this case, food would be a welcome distraction. Perhaps you can tell me more about these creatures on the way." she makes another gracious invisible 'curtsy' and then extends her arm much like he did at the beginning of the tour.

Misunderstandings And Breakthroughs

2013-04-24T06:49:05Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/16 |Location=Palamecia Castle |Synopsis=Emperor Mateus and Rena Laradyne have a conversation that begins harshly and ends on a much more po..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/16
|Location=Palamecia Castle
|Synopsis=Emperor Mateus and Rena Laradyne have a conversation that begins harshly and ends on a much more positive note.
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus, Rena Laradyne
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Word of Carwen’s successful defense has been circulating through Palamecia, the national pride rising high as a result. Lands away from the Northern Continent, and other worlds away from this World of Ruin itself, have called into question whether this was orchestrated by the dark nation to the northwest. Carwen itself has remained outwardly silent on the matter, but has sent a private message thanking the nation for the assistance and offering condolences for the losses incurred. Emperor Mateus has been kept busy with matters and responsibilities that come with the title. Forces to rearrange, training to be mandated, morale to raise... In the face of all that, why should he be concerned with those who peer too deeply for their own good? He had ordered a platoon to Carwen out of mutual interest, certainly no different than Archades protecting Fluorgis months before. And yet, because his country is known to be so close to Darkness, Palamecia is viewed with suspicion and hostility while Archades is largely forgotten. How so very quaint. Emperor Mateus strides through the halls, issuing orders to aides and nobles as he absently weaves a faintly-glowing orb in his hand. He is not in his suit-and-tie, nor is he in his emperor robes. Instead, he is in his purple-and-gold armor, his horned crown almost hidden in his mane of golden hair. Only when all have left him with his commands does he pause for a moment, shifting his weight onto one leg and rubbing his chin with one hand, his other arm folding over his chest to rest in the crook of his upraised arm.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Being a guest means a lot of things. A partial freedom and partial restraint. A place to stay and yet no place to fit. A place to watch but also a place to be seen. Rena did not spend the long hours in the guest chambers of the labyrinthine castle. She roamed the corridors at first, making notes on places on a small notebook she had bought in Traverse Town and never within the sight of anyone, servant, knight or otherwise. She secured permission to borrow a horse from the stables and had vanished into the surrounding wilderness. She returned only this morning, clothing mottled with dirt and dried blood. Once she had attended to herself (she never let her armor or her weapons leave her room when she was not wearing them) and enjoyed a languorous bath and reclothed in a simple skirt and shift with a short jacket over her shoulders, she went stalking a different prey. A word or two here. Wait. A polite question of directions. Wait. Linger over something mildly disappointing in a omelette with cheese and unidentifiable meat. And now.. trailing. Listening to the sounds of commands in the echoing vaults of the corridors, and eventually the aides and nobles and assorted lampreys detach themselves. "..ah. I thought I would have to get a sword to slice in a word edgewise. Do you have time for a question?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus turns his head slowly, apparently not surprised at Rena’s presence. “Ah, Lady Rena. I was about to wonder who has been ghosting my path.” He turns to face her completely and bows deeply at the waist. “By all means, though I must request that we talk as we walk. I can’t linger in the halls for much longer,” a long-suffering look crosses his face, “else someone else may find further busywork that I would need to delegate elsewhere.” He motions for Rena to join him at his side before turning a corner and progressing at a leisurely walk. “Does something trouble you, mi’lady?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' "Oh of course." she takes the chance to catch up, dropping the hand trailing across the stones in her haste. She slows back down to match paces as they turn a corner. "A legion of quillmen would likely descend in short order." she gives a small and chagrined smile. "I regret that I've seen only a little of the surrounding countryside, but I saw something curious on may way through the mountains. A great stone building a little the worse the wear for the ages. It reminded me very much of a coliseum, although somewhat grander in scope than the one built in Traverse Town." she begins to trail her fingers again across the stones. "Is this building part of Palamecia and still in function? I did not see anyone on my first approach, but I did not see it as up close as I would have liked."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus’ eyes light up in recognition. “Ahh, yes, I know of what you speak. ‘Tis a Coliseum once used for sport on my world, but for now used to store the beasts and monsters that supplant my forces. I would advise against entering freely, however. My soldiers are under strict rules to not let the unwary past, as the monsters within are often not adequately trained.” He nods slowly. “I do have plans to restore it in time, but with greater matters beyond,” he waves off to the side with a flair indicating the outside world(s), “it has been largely ignored. It is a location older than my predecessors twice removed. It shall keep for a time yet.” He folds his hands behind his back, a loose clasping of one hand within another. “The Dark Knight tells me you have taken a keen interest in him. I am curious as to your honest thoughts of my best soldier.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena keeps her steps measured and short, tilting her head slightly as she looks over and down at him. " Words I have in easy and cheap supply, emperor." the smile on her face grows slightly but remains thin lipped. " It's the honest part that costs. That's why honest steel serves better but cleaves deeper into the wallet." she chuckles very faintly. "Honest words cost even more dearly, and honest thoughts?" she snorts very softly. "I don't believe you can afford. I would like to visit the coliseum at some point, if you'll grant me such a pass. I'm curious as to who has neglected the creatures so, when they should prosper in such a rich environment." She pauses then adds in a light hearted and flippant manner. "As to your commander. His title caught my attention and I later found him very intriguing, although NOT, sadly, a sparkling conversationalist. A pity, he is rather attractive for a man without a name."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus arcs a thin eyebrow at Rena at her wordplay. It has been some time since anyone has even considered such a thing, to dare to match wits. But he only thinly smiles and the edges of his eyes crinkle accordingly, though no warmth reaches his eyes. “My dear, there is always a reason to my decisions.” He sweeps his arms to the sides in an overly elaborate shrug. “If you wish for a behemoth to lay waste to my home in his fury, for coeurls to level the peaks that protect us with their magic, for beasts unchecked to wander to Guadosalam and the Giza Plains and undo my hard work, then feel free to advocate their freedom all you wish. But I request in return that you do not make such assumptions such as that I have abandoned them, as I have a full company of beast-trainers tending to their every need night and day. They are even free to roam the abandoned grounds within the walls and exercise their strength, no different than... I believe the facility is called a ‘zoo’, in other worlds.” He nods his head to the side, eyebrows raising as his eyes close for that moment. “With that said, if you would rather see for yourself than to believe my word, I will give you the required pass without hesitation.” He pauses for a moment, his attention keying on something she says about her generalized observation of the Dark Knight. He had noted her annoyance at the lack of true introduction upon their first meeting, and apparently the lack of a name bothers her still. “A man without a name. This bothers you?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' “Well then." Rena adds with a minorly reproduced shrug of her own. "Please don't make assumptions as to my intentions to free them." Rena blandly returns with a smile. "I am simply stating by your own words that you find them inadequate in some way, despite their virtues. Otherwise you would not kindly turn the unwary away from their place of training. You can either rush to their defense or rally against them, emperor. To do both leaves you somewhat exposed, conversationally speaking." she pauses, then continues. "Thank you for the gracious gift of your missive, however. It will give me a chance to see for myself that you are correct and I will then have an opportunity to apologize for my error." She tucks a curl of red hair back behind one ear. "I am curious. When and why did you decide to put aside the mantle and wander the worlds as a performer? It seems hard to imagine, considering everything that I have seen here."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus stops, his expression unchanging from that warmthless smile yet his gaze chills noticeably for the instant he squarely meets her gaze. This child’s impudence would be her undoing, twisting meanings and words beyond the context it was given, seeking a fight in peaceful conversation. It is... a disappointment. “So be it.” He turns his gaze away as he resumes walking, dropping the matter for now. Instead, he continues to her question. “I realized early on, upon waking here in the World of Ruin, that I cannot move freely as myself--Emperor Mateus of Palamecia. The power of my station, the reputation of my country, my own abilities only being a few. ” He spins his almost-forgotten orb on one finger, like an athlete would a basketball, staring distractedly into its depths. “To walk as Matthew, a mere performer, to see the people of so many lands and the lives they lead... why would I pass such a golden opportunity to learn?” His gaze, though far less cold than earlier, focuses up at her once more. “However, my dear,” his head cants downwards without breaking eye-contact, “you did not answer my question.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena does not smile this time, gazes locked and unflinching. She bows her head slightly, but it is not in apology. She is merely withholding what she would otherwise say, as if on evaluation, it was no longer worth saying to him. When he drops the subject, she merely follows and listens. "Well. I am glad you took such an opportunity." the smile returns to her face and it looks more genuine than before. "It brought me your gift, and the grace of your home for which I thank you. As to before.. words mean things. My culture is one of words and names and memory." she makes a waiving off gesture. "It is very unusual not to have a name and so the subject of many stories. As such, that caught my attention because it was familiar. As very few things are."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles softly, his demeanor softening slightly but still walking with the air expected of royalty. “I am pleased to hear such praise from you, Lady Rena.” He cants his head to the side still further, looking all the world like a curious cat watching a most intriguing target. Whatever had determined the icy tit-for-tat verbal exchange just moments ago is but a distant memory now. “I believe I begin to understand.” He steeples his fingers in front of his mouth, the orb framed on all sides as if within a pyramid, a thoughtfully distant expression on his face. He taps his fingers against his lips once, twice... and then looks up at Rena once more. “Would you like to hear the story of the one called Dark Knight?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena raises an eyebrow slightly at that and her shoulders relax minutely. Her expression closes down into something more like a listening calm as she twists her lips to one side and then soberly nods. "Yes." she admits quietly. "I would very much like to hear the tale." She stretches out her hands, bending the fingers back to stretch her wrists as she falls gradually into a matched cadence. An automatic stride in which she is not really giving any attention to any but emperor mateus, giving him her full attention.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus doesn’t bounce nor hop, but levitates more to Rena’s eye level as he has done once before. His implied pace is akin to his walking speed, which is in and of itself matching the Shivan’s. He himself seems to be paying no attention to where they are going, but he can be excused as he knows this castle like the back of his hand. He resumes contact-juggling the orb one-handed for a moment. “He is not of Palamecia, originally. His home was originally of Fynn, a small city-state I conquered on my homeworld before it fell.” He closes his eyes, recalling the events from memory. “He attempted to escape the burning town with his family, but my soldiers regrettably cut them down in front of him before he was captured and brought to me.” His brow furrows faintly as the orb disappears from his grasp, as if it was never there to begin with. “He was... a broken young man, more akin to a wounded wild animal than human. He claimed to hate me by using empty words as threats, but what he truly wished to do was die--and his eyes betrayed him utterly. I saw promise in him, so much potential, but I could not use him as he was. Even if I had released him, he would not have survived a day without dying, whether by his own hand or by other means.” He inhales needlessly, not out of some sort of regret or otherwise emotional response, but of a final gathering of thoughts. “Therefore, I reforged him. I gave him many gifts, not the least of which was a purpose to continue living, but a price had to be paid. For such a ritual to work, I had to lock his heart and seal his memories even down to his own name.” He sighs softly. “It was a grave pity, but I could not risk him being consumed by the Darkness he wields so completely because he let himself falter.” He falls silent for a time stretching many seconds and many marching footsteps. “Leon,” he finally says, almost as an afterthought. “More accurately, Leonhart. That was the lad’s name, but it holds no meaning for him now--and if it does, only pain and suffering.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' ~'Rena. I want you to kill me.'~ The Shivan continues to listen intently to the emperor's words. A phantom moves and speaks to her right but she does not acknowledge them, even when she hers her own voice playing back the words. ~'Come with me, Jacob.'~ ~'You know better than that. I promised. It's done. So get across the span, and never use that name again.'~ 'Rena. DO IT.' she shakes her head minutely and the spectre fades, replaced by the crackling fire of a burning town and the empty hatred of a broken man. She uses this to hone her grief and her silence, stroping the blade with every detail. The Shivan's face shuts down entirely, only her eyes glimmering and flashing with the beginnings of something very close to wrath. The expression falters, drawn back behind the crystalline ice that shields the depths of her eyes. It softens as he explains further and vanishes completely when they speak the commanders name, lost as it may be. Such a gift. A lost name, given so carelessly. 'RENA!' Her eyes flinch slightly before she speaks. "Thank you.. Matthew." her voice is sugary but inflectionless, a sweet overlay of thin ice over a chasm. Her words are slow and sincere. "..that was quite a gift. I appreciate such a tale, however tragic. It does.. in fact.. put a great many things into perspective. Thank you."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Rena’s face blanking out and the minute keys to expression that follow are not missed by the floating Emperor Mateus. There are many things he does not know about this young woman, as she has not been nearly as open with him as he has been to her. And there are limits to his kindness, even if it takes some time to get there... and at this rate, they are both speeding right towards it. Her voice, foreboding and falsely sweet, seals the matter right there. Certainly she may be sincere, but not in a manner beneficial to anyone. “Mmmm, you are welcome. Though it seems I have been striking raw nerves ever since this conversation began.” His chin lifts faintly, a miniscule show of defiance in the face of such thin ice masking impending wrath. “Think of me as you will, Lady Rena, I care not. I did what I believed to be best for both the lad and for my country--my people. And I will do so again, because that is the price of power--whether it be a name, or freedom, or some other arbitrary reason that fits one person or another.” He lands on the ground and resumes walking at that same leisurely pace. “What happened to Leon I do not intend to let happen again. But what is done cannot ever be undone.” He turns his head to regard Rena. “So, knowing now the truth--about me, about Palamecia, about Leon--do you regret coming here?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena chuckles direly. "I dare say that you have, although it is no fault but mine." she inclines her head and it's real apology in her voice as she rumbles. "It's only a short jump of memory still from here to everything I have lost. So forgive me for falling easily into poor habits. You have been open. I should extend you the same courtesy." The shivan radiates tension for a few moments as she lets it go, her expression grimly amused in a rather caustically self-depreciating sense. She listens and takes this in, her expression ticing slightly as she takes in a deep breath. She strains to point out the various and sundry contradictions but closes her eyes, takes in a breath and relents to the apology while internally berating herself for allowing a phantom to disrupt her control. "So.. before I answer that question in the honest coin it was offered in, may I tell you a tale in return? It will explain, if not excuse, my apparent fit of temper."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus’ guarded expression does not change, but that familiar warmth seen so easily in Matthew’s eyes glimmers for just a moment. He doesn’t say another word, simply nodding once in agreement.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' "My people are called the Children of the First Frost. And we live on the border between worlds. A lot of my.." she pauses then continues. "Classmates, are from places where technology is common. Where steel and city beat out lake and forest. My people, the Shivans, live on the unyielding glacier. It is an entire lost continent of icewood and tundra and bitter cliffs of ice." she slowly closes her hands as she talks. "And slowly that steel and those cities was reaching out across the ice and taming it. Sealing it away. And so those of us who still live and strived on our own.. without the aid of cellphone or laser lived in nomadic tribes. Tribes who clutch even more fiercely to our stories as our ways of life slip out of our fingers." And the smile she gives now is very bitter, if sincere. She then laughs harshly. "And this is not to besmirch the luxury of a hot shower or a supermarket, but the Hrimthur, my clan, prefer to keep things as they have always been. Even if that is the most hard headed thing in the world to do." She stretches her arms towards the ceiling and then lets them swing down in exasperation, playing one hand against the wall again as they walk. "My people honor names because when everything was new and all was created, everything was given first a secret name. And there is some extremely dull discussion on who exactly created the world first, but every living being has a spark within them. A fragment of the divine perhaps, or simply a core of life that animates them. So, in respect to names which have connection to that animating fire, we do not use them lightly. We do not sell them, not even for great power. We do not TAKE them, for to do that is to become Atalar. A shaman of darkness and chains. For to have someone take your name is only another word for enslavement. To bind the will of another forever. And for you to sell your own name willingly to another force is even worse. Even if you do it to save someone else." She pauses for a long time to collect her thoughts and then smirks, splaying her hands. "So, do I regret meeting you, knowing that you are Atalar? No. The word is an insubstantial as air. You took because he could be of use to you. There is no special hatred of mine for what you did. It only shows I have much to learn. Your ways are not my ways and my people are gone. The struggle has ended. You have made me kind offerings and I have taken them. You have allowed me many trespasses, and I will attempt in the future not to scorn them."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus listens very closely, a whole new perspective--no, an entirely new WORLD--being laid out to bare before him by the power of words alone. He drinks every drop of information, lavender eyes brightening and his face relaxing into more and more wonder as he visualizes what Rena’s homeland must have once looked like. Perhaps visualizing Palamecia itself in deep winter, only with no castle and no town? Difficult to say. And as she speaks, everything finally falls into place. Her demeanor, her beliefs, her every move and motion. Finally, the ‘why’ is answered. What was once disappointment becomes understanding, and the path forwards is as clear as his crystal orbs. Upon her words answering his last question, he stops moving and fully turns to face her, meeting her gaze without any of the earlier clash-of-wills. An honest look, seeking honesty in return, and he finds it. “Lady Rena Laradyne.” He bows on one knee, taking her hand in one of his own, and gently kisses the back of her hand. “You have looked upon me and still accept who I am, what I can do. I can safely say you are the first to do so, and that is a gift greater than repayment could ever give in return.” He bows his head. “Regardless of our misunderstandings, there is more yet to show you. More yet to offer on your new path. T’would be a pity for paths to diverge so soon.” He smiles, that warm smile Matthew seems to show so easily, and rises to his feet with almost boyish enthusiasm as he throws his arms wide. “So let us learn together, measure our shortcomings and strive to betterment. If I may even be so bold, I would be honored if you would consider my home yours as well.”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena looks down at the emperor. The spectre stands slightly behind him and for a few moments she looks past Mateus. She lets everything go, letting the anger and bitterness slide off her into the darkness. She holds onto a single thing as the raw and painful emotion slips away underneath the ice. A silent promise. No matter what she had to do, she would do this. She would make this right again. Then Mateus kisses the back of her hand and she comes completely into the present, the ghosts of the past shredding away as she gives him her full attention again. She gives him a small and genuine smile that flowers into a bright expression of barely suppressed bemusement. "Ah, well. In any case, it will make a fascinating tale." she laughs and throws her hands up in surrender. "If I did not stay to hear it and to dance the part, I would be negligent." She sighs, her smile a trifle sad for a moment. "Now. Tell me more about this path we walk together. I may as well learn where my feet are going before the quillmen descend on you in another swarm." she then continues to walk through the labyrinthine corridors.

Harsh Reality

2013-04-24T06:43:59Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/19
|Location=Imperial Airship Alexander
|Synopsis=Judge Magister Zargabaath calls Riku to the Alexander for a meeting concerning the behemoth.
|Cast of Characters=Zargabaath, Riku
|Tinyplot=Heart Of Power
|pretty=yes
}}

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' <Radio> Judge Magister Zargabaath transmits, “Judge Riku. Find me on the Alexander’s bridge as soon as you receive this message.”

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' <Radio> Riku transmits. "Right away, your honor. I'll be there as soon as I can."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku eventually appears, picking bits of detritus and leaves off of his clothes and out of his hair. He grumbles something venomous about forests in general as he dusts off his sleeves and straightens his duster back over his shoulders. He seems to relax a little, his forceful stride becoming less urgent and threaded by anger as he takes in the purposeful atmosphere of the Alexander and makes his way through the corridors towards the bridge. He was certainly sore in more than one respect, but shaken or not he takes a minute or two to speak with people on the way. The teenager even finds himself smiling to be back in semi-familiar territory and the Alexander, while crewed by a lot of people, didn't trigger the disquieting pressure and restless anger that had driven him out of Archades. He stretched out his arms and shoulders, swinging them back and forth as he walked the last couple of steps and entered the bridge proper.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The crew of the Alexander appears to have been expecting Riku’s return, and none seem to care how the boy had gotten on-board mid-flight. The conversations are pleasant, nobody seeming to be unduly stressed or otherwise compromised, and a few passing greetings are called over to the Judge as other Alexander crewmembers pass by on occasion. In fact, even the bridge has the same feeling to it as the rest of the ship. The crew focusing on their jobs, an almost professionally casual air keeping the atmosphere light, and Judge Magister Zargabaath sitting in his captain’s chair with his full focus on the instruments before him. None verbally acknowledge Riku immediately, the few who do notice his entrance only glancing up long enough to give him a smile or a nod before returning to their duties. Looking outside the windows, the view is as spectacular as ever, with ocean as far as the eye can see with low-lying wisps of clouds occasionally occluding the view. The lack of apparent urgency allows Riku to take his time and enjoy the view if he so pleases, and also to allow him to spark the conversation with Judge Magister Zargabaath accordingly.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku does in fact take the time to appreciate the view. He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he looks out at the world rushing by. He closes his eyes for a moment and feels the dread loosen a little. There had been no 'visit' by the dark knight. The judge magister was safe. The Alexander was safe. He didn't really feel comfortable with the idea of letting his guard down a second time, especially because of the presence he can feel roaming around in the back of his thoughts somewhere many miles away but for a moment the shield of anger he had to use to fend off the darkness he puts down. When he opens his eyes, he leans against a railing and looks out at the world. "You asked for me, you honor?"

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath does not reply immediately. Instead, he rises out of his captain’s chair and walks over to join Riku over by the railing, crossing his arms on the surface and leaning forwards as if about to rest his helm against the glass. “Aye, I did,” he rumbles quietly, an almost fatherly warmth to his voice, but also that authoritative undercurrent when on duty. His shoulders untense slightly, though the almost incremental way they do so indicate it isn’t exactly an easy feat. “We got the results back from Drakor Laboratories.” He inhales deeply. “The scales had traces of steel and tanned leather weaved amongst the bone, and the blood was human mixed with behemoth.” He shakes his helm, fresh memories still replaying in the back of his mind as he constantly re-analyzes what he’d seen. “You were right, Riku.”

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Not really expecting his stomach to lurch on being proven right, Riku coughs as if someone had punched him, grip tightening on the rail for a moment. There had always been the idea that he might have been wrong. But the alternative thought Riku immediately pushes away. "Well." he snorts faintly. "It's good to see they've been busy with more than that radio." his shoulders tense for a moment and then relax. "So.. what now?"

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath reaches over to pat Riku on the back during the coughing fit, thinking that he had choked or something. But once it’s clear Riku has recovered, the Judge of Reason pulls away his hand as if nothing had happened. “I have spoken with Judge Magister Constantine, and we are in agreement that the behemoth must be captured with the minimal amount of injury as possible. Dr. Cidolfus believes that any injury the behemoth sustains will transfer to His Honor Gabranth upon reversing the effect.” He hesitates for a moment, a nasty thought rearing its ugly head. Have they already caused lasting damage as it already is? He shelves away the thought before it affects the conversation. Perusal can come later. “Where is the behemoth now, Riku?”

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' "Uh.." Riku tenses up at the pat but then tries to relax, tapping his fingers across the railing as he pauses for quite some time, looking off into the viewport. Eventually he rubs the back of his head for a moment and then shrugs. "It's sort of difficult to explain. But I know where they are. I can go there when we need to."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Poor Riku has no idea just how good of an idea that sounds /right now/ to the Judge of Reason. Admittedly, he has more information than he has delineated thus far to the Judge-in-training, and he would like nothing more than to chase down that behemoth and drag it back to Archades by whatever means necessary as soon as possible. But no. Charging after a moving target is not going to help matters. He would be setting a bad example to crew--and heck, even all of Archades, for that matter. It is the unfortunate side-effect of having so much power and responsibility. Certainly one obtains the freedom to act as they see fit, but that duty becomes a chain that binds even stronger than irons. Judge Magister Zargabaath audibly inhales a long, slow, clearly steadying breath. “We need time to prepare.” His voice is almost perfectly stoic, but the underlying tone is self-biting. As if he is saying this to convince himself. “The Alexander will likely be the only available craft with the capability to transport the Behemoth without the use of teleportation magick, provided there is adequate containment. Containment that is not yet ready.” He unfolds his arms from under his chestplate and rocks back on his feet slightly, resting only his elbows on the bannister while his fingertips steeple in front of the ram-like helm. His implied gaze seems to be aimed past the horizon. “Also, Judge Magister Constantine will need to be kept informed. I promised her that much at our last meeting.”

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' "Sure." Riku says with a note of reassurement. "Whatever time you need, your honor." he looks out at the viewpoint and figures well.. another few hours or a day or two wouldn't make the biggest difference in the world. What he did could not so easily be undone and although he was having some stranger than usual dreams and a nagging headache, he could find Gabranth when they were good and ready. "Better that it's done right than not at all, I guess." There is a mild thread of irritation in his voice but he has to remind himself that Archadians don't just drop everything and /go/. He'd gotten so used to being able to be where he needed to be, he often forgets the long way around. He just figures this is something like that. Riku looks over at the Judge Magister and feels a moment's uneasiness, tracing the implied sightline out to the horizon and then back across the bridge. "Yeah. At least /someone/ is putting the fear of Somebody into that group." Riku grins. "This is why I'm glad to be over here, and not over there honestly."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath emits a weak chuckle. “Aye. It has been too long since I have flown the skies myself. Being grounded for so long waiting was... well, you already relate.” He straightens away from the bannister, tapping his hand on its surface before turning back to his captain’s chair. “You have been assisting with the search ever since the initial incident, so it would be only right for you to see the full report from Dr. Cidolfus. However,” he looks directly at Riku, complete seriousness in every subsequent syllable, “you must promise me that you will not move on your own upon reading it in its entirety. Agreed?”

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku lets that uneasiness gnaw at him for awhile and finally lets it out since he figures around the Judge Magister he can afford to be honest. "Yeah. It's always the worst bit." he spasms his hands on the bannister and sighs. "Your honor.. may I--" but his voice fades off as the Judge Magister continues to speak and an eyebrow raises at 'initial incident' and 'full report', the expression dropping off his face like sand leaking from a broken vase. The predator wariness flashes across his eyes as he narrows them at Zargabaath and he pauses for a very long time before shaking his head. "Define. Move on my own, your honor." he requests in a calm, flat voice. "..Because if it's so bad you expect me to bolt... then it does not really matter if I read it or not, does it? My path's been set by you even speaking those words. So what choice do I have? I can't lunge into something blindly again." he chuckles very direly. "Bad things happen when I do that." he sucks in a steadying breath, gritting his teeth against something for a moment before he nods soberly. "..What is it?"

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath looks at Riku for a very long time. His body is very still, his armor hiding any sign of expression or body language that would betray his thoughts. A metal-and-leather statue at best, an icon of contradictions on the other. “I only ask... because ‘tis what I would do /right now/ if able,” he states quietly, his voice barely audible past his helmet. He picks up a sheet or two of paper, stamped with the Archadian seal, and hands it to Riku directly. “In short, the effects of the Eclipse Shard’s explosion within that Faram-cursed floating isle were more far-reaching than thought. Fragments lodged in his body released their energies before later being removed, but the damage was done. In the midst of the 9th Bureau’s training exercise, magick triggered the transformation--whether his own or being a target of it. We already know the rest.” He falls silent at this point, letting Riku read the papers. Within details not only the full story, but also the full analysis of the various samples sent to the Laboratory. Nothing has been left out, not even the part about the fate of Freddie the lab rat, though it seems Dr. Cid had been surprisingly concise in his explanations... perhaps solely because a similar missive had been sent to the Senate and House Solidor.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku doesn't even look at the papers for a long time, his expression glazed with shock. Something stirs in his memory sluggishly, like shadows passing each other and sliding off. Riku closes his eyes tightly, remembering to breath after his lungs start to burn. He shakes his head sharply, the piercing fragments of some nightmare crowding his thoughts and he blinks rapidly, yellow filling his eyes as he reads over the lab analysis. His eyes slide and skim and skip over the words because his focus is torn between keeping a lid on his temper and reading what the report actually says. When he gets to the fate of Freddie the lab rat, he folds the entire report over and silently thrusts it in the Judge Magister's direction. He says nothing because he doesn't trust his own voice anymore. He closes his eyes for a much longer time and keeps them closed as he continues to mutely extend the report back to them. His hands minutely shake.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath immediately takes back the papers and tosses them carelessly--almost forcefully--back at his chair. He then rests both hands on Riku’s shoulders, but does not pull him into an embrace this time around. Riku would feel the Judge of Reason’s hands shake minutely themselves. Or is that simply the boy’s own shivering reverbing back? It’s difficult to tell. “I know. I understand.” The empathy and, more audibly, the restrained indignant /rage/ in Zargabaath’s rumbling voice is startling to hear compared to his usual neutral or fatherly tones. To the bridge crew’s credit, they do not react nor even seem to notice the conversation, solely focused on their own duties.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku trembles with fury and his head turns ever so slightly to look towards the bridge crew, eyes still firmly closed. He swallows the darkness threatening to boil out but it hurts to do so without letting so much as a heat mirage betray the presence of so much being constrained so tightly. The judge magister's hands on his shoulders, if they stay there, would probably feel an intense cold for a few seconds. Riku takes in a few very slow breaths. If he hyperventilates he was going to do something rash and the weight of two people he respected had both told him to be as careful as possible. And sometimes that was harder to do than other times. The young judge reaches up and DIGS his palms into his eyes for a moment and lets out a very faint growl. "Okay." he eventually manages to say. His eyes open (which are normal again) as he slowly raises them to stare at where Zargabaath's sightline will be. "We'll prepare. And I won't do stupid things. And it won't be too late." There is an absolute void of forgiveness in his eyes at the silent promise of any other alternative.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath ignores the cold even as it seeps past leather and metal alike, the metal even seeming to frost in that few moments. Only when Riku seems to be in complete control of himself do his hands return to his sides, but not before. “It will not be too late.” That firm promise underlines an iron will and a deep finality, his implied gaze meeting Riku’s unflinchingly. “And you shall make sure of that.” He presses on without pause. “You may resume following the behemoth. Tracking its path, evaluating its condition, keeping myself or Judge Magister Constantine informed on any new information you find. We shall move to capture it once it ceases its wanderings. I shall spearhead preparations on the Alexander myself, and the 12th Fleet will standby to receive the behemoth and transport it as soon as it is captured.” A faint ghost of an emotion incrementally more positive seeps into his voice. “And we shall both provide a flogging never witnessed before once His Honor Gabranth is set back to right.”

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku takes in another breath and steadies himself. The shock of having to pull back so quickly and so completely has left him shaky, like an adrenaline crash. He reaches out to the railing again to keep himself standing. "Well then...that.. is something.. to look forwards to. Your honor.,. may I be excused?

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath nods once, though his entire upper body cants forwards slightly in an implied bow. “Go.” He takes a step back, ignoring the more fatherly thought to assist Riku. This is neither the time nor the place... of course, it is so difficult to properly understand when to approach and when to keep one’s distance, either way. “Rest and prepare, then do as you see fit.” That odd tone lifts his voice again incrementally. “And I am certain it will not be ‘stupid things’.” He has more faith in you than that, Riku.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku would bow if he wasn't pretty certain he would fall over in the attempt. That... took a lot more out of him than he thought it would. He inclines his head. "Alright." he opens his mouth to say something else. Feeling like something else should be said here and.. then not being able to. He just nods again and leaves the bridge without another word.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath returns to the command deck and picks up the papers in one hand as if about to crumple them into trash. He watched all of this happen, he doesn’t need a detailed written summary to boot. “You’re too kind, Your Honor,” Judge Yuves comments blandly from his corner of the bridge without even looking up. The Judge of Reason sighs lowly and rests the papers on the console. “Perhaps.” He sinks into his chair and turns his helm to regard his aide. “Would you rather me be otherwise?” Judge Yuves only shakes his helm in reply. “I thought not.” And with that, he returns his full attention to running his ship, taking solace in the familiar.

Harsh Reality

2013-04-24T06:43:04Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/19 |Location=Imperial Airship Alexander |Synopsis=Judge Magister Zargabaath calls Riku to the Alexander for a meeting concerning the behemo..."

Beachside Encounter

2013-04-24T06:16:23Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/18 |Location=Traverse Area - Bodhum - Beach |Synopsis=Maira is spending some time alone at the beach, and it is here that she meets a certa..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/18
|Location=Traverse Area - Bodhum - Beach
|Synopsis=Maira is spending some time alone at the beach, and it is here that she meets a certain street performer.
|Cast of Characters=Maira, Emperor Mateus
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' The beach here is usually lively, various groups of people coming to hang around by the beach and appreciate the scenery under the starts. It was the beach without the scorching heat or the sunburn, a place to party or relax or bring a date for a romantic stroll. It was where Maira had first encountered the Dark Knight. While she is not alone in the general area, she is sitting by herself on a blanket in the sand, a white shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She's holding the horn from the dark knight's armor in her hands, her eyes focused on the dark material as she runs her fingers over the smooth surface. She knows every groove, every curve, every indentation by memory. What had she done last they had met? What did it mean? Maira hadn't a clue, but it worried her. Would he be back? Probably so...everyone else seemed to think so. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just.... Maira sighs heavily, continuing to stare out at the ocean, her thoughts a tangled mess.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' "You seem troubled, lass." The voice comes from Maira's right, a curious tone flitting on a rich tenor. If Maira looks in that direction, she would catch sight of a slim young man kneeling in a clear patch of sand. He is wearing a pair of jeans and a plain T-shirt, his platinum-blonde hair pulled back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. If Maira has gone shopping in Traverse Town lately, she has probably seen someone of his description performing in front of one of the stores once in a while. His lavender eyes flick towards the strange black horn in her hands. Such a strange-looking material. "Forgive me if I have disturbed you. I could not help but notice your lack of enjoyment of such scenery." A hand lifts in the direction of the ocean before them.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Distracted as she was, the man is beside her before she even notices. When he speaks, she nearly jumps to her feet in surprise and alarm. She looks to him then, taking in his appearance. He was /probably/ just a guy at the beach...and he looked a bit familiar. A local? Maira thinks for a moment, and the memory comes to her. "Oh! You startled me! I'm okay, just...um....thinking," she says, then slips the horn back into her pack with failed subtlety. "I've seen you around Traverse Town, haven't I? You're a performer?" she asks with a small smile, trying to take the attention from herself.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The man smiles, looking quite chagrined after her startled reaction. "My apologies, I did not intend to interrupt your thoughts nor scare you." He bows his head to her. "But yes, I am a street performer occassionally hired for one store or another, usually within District One." He offers his hand, palm up, for a handshake. "My name is Matthew. A pleasure to meet you."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira smiles easily, reaching out to take his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Maira," she informs him. "A street performer huh? What kind of performing do you do? Acrobatics? Juggling? Acting?" she asks, tilting her head slightly in question. "Are you new to Traverse Town?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew smiles warmly. "I do not consider myself a citizen here, as work can be sporadic and I get homesick easily. I hail from the World of Ruin and make the trip between worlds if I have a job. I have considered also trying my hand in such locales as Carwen or Luca, perhaps even Fluorgis." He taps his chin thoughtfully, then shrugs as he chuckles. "But we shall see. I enjoy my time here too much to forsake it entirely." His eyes flicker in boyish glee upon her curiousity of what he does. "A little singing, some magic tricks," he reaches out between them with one hand and twists his wrist so his hand is palm-up, a clear crystal orb suddenly appearing out of nowhere between his fingertips. "But I am best at contact juggling. Like so." As a demonstration, he weaves his hand in a figure-eight motion, the orb seeming to bob over his fingers with each weave.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira blinks in surprise as the orb appears, watching with fascination as it rolls so smoothly around his hand. "That's amazing!" she says. This, coming from a girl who magic is as natural as breathing, but she couldn't do /that/! "I saw a movie once where--" then she looks up at Matthew. The blond hair, the orb.... Maira gasps, a hand rising to cover her mouth for just a moment before she lowers it to ask, "Are you the Goblin King?" her voice a whisper. Hey, weirder things have happened! Frequently!

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew raises an eyebrow briefly at Maira's surprise, as if suddenly concerned he had startled her again, but he only warmly chuckles at her question. "No, I am not Jareth. But the similarities are eerily /remarkable/, would you not agree?" He flips his hand and holds his arm out to the side, the orb spiraling around his wrist before settling to a stop on the center of his forearm. "I myself did not understand the comparisons until after my second performance here, when someone was kind enough to give me that very movie as a tip. I was quite amused by the unintentional similarities, and I integrated it into my performances ever since." The orb bounces off of his arm and into his hand, where he just holds it between thumb and forefinger. "Labyrinth, I believe the movie was called?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira laughs brightly. "Yes! I watched it not long ago with my friend, he's from Manhattan," she explains. "That is delightful! I loved that movie. Well, even if you were the goblin king I don't have any children for you to steal," she giggles. "I know if I were in the Labyrinth I would use magic to get through it--if I could anyway," she says, considering. Really, why is she actually giving this serious thought!? It was a movie for goodness sake! "Heh...well the world sure is filled with strange things," she offers. This Matthew seemed friendly enough, perhaps she'd made a new friend. "What part of the World of Ruin are you from? I'm from there too. Really, I think everyone in Traverse Town is from somewhere else...."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew's smile turns a little saddened. "I've found the Northern Continent to be closest to home, but... I have found precious few familiar landmarks since my world fell." His gaze falls to the orb with a homesick look, but simply shakes his head. "We have all lost something, some more than others. Sometimes as quickly as a bubble bursts." The orb in his hand instantly disappears like a popped soap bubble, and he inhales a bit sharply before smiling a bit. "But this is hardly a topic worth losing cheery conversation over. Would you not agree, Maira?" He shifts to sit down in the sand properly, leaning back on one arm with legs semi-folded in front of him. "You said you can use magic?" His head tilts slightly. "May I ask what kind?"

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira frowns, filled with empathy. Such a sad story, and so common these days. "Same with me. My world's been lost to darkness. There's some things that are like it in Goug but...its not the same," she replies. Suddenly, Maira gets a call on her Ma Belle. "Oh, sorry, just a minute!" she says, answering the call and having a brief but hilarious conversation. "Oh oh! I met a guy who totally looks like the goblin king!.....What's a codpiece?.....hurk! N-no he doesn't have one of those! He's dressed for the beach....I'll ask, do our phone thingy's have cameras?.....I dunno if mine does...." RIGHT! He was still right there. Maira blushes a deep shade of red and turns back to him. "U-um sorry, got a call from my best friend...hehe. She's a big fan of that movie too, you see..." Backtrack, quick! "Oh, my magic? All kinds, though I'm best with fire--and healing I guess. I can do other things too, some earth and some air...water and ice are difficult for me though."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew seems quite amused upon overhearing Maira's side of the conversation, and only laughs at her subsequent explanation. "It's quite alright." He seems quite comfortable almost lounging in the sand. "And you may take a picture to show her if you wish. It doesn't bother me." He has already gotten used to it as a manner of one of his performances, after all. He lifts his free hand in front of him and a small eddy of wind begins to form in the palm of his hand. "I am a bit of a Black Mage myself, hence why I inquired to your magical abilities." What almost looks like static electricity sparkles between the mini-tornado and his hand. "Air and Thunder are my own primaries. Some fire, a few non-elemental spells as well. Being able to use magic in my performances is pleasing to the crowds without overdoing physical activity." He sets the little eddy down on the sand, where it tears away across the beach as it grows into a small dust-devil. "I find it is also relaxing."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira recognizes his use of magic before he even casts it. The feeling in the air changes, the nearby electricity stirring her, rising the small hairs on her arms. She watches, amused and delighted. Of course, she could play this game! This was something she could do. The air around Maira grows warmer as she lets her magic rise to the surface, raising a hand that is now wreathed in flame. She weaves the magic into the a small form--a woman dancing. It is something she's seen during a parade a little while back and had been wanting to try to recreate. She manipulates the fire with seeming ease, her fingers dancing to give her a focal point--the magic though, flows from inside of her, a bright light. "Hehe...me too. At least now that I'm better with it," she admits with a smile.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew watches her manipulate the flame with keen interest, taking in how the female figure dances. He turns his hand towards her, warmth rising as well as flames focus in his palm and fingers. His fire is notably different than hers, not at the core but the edges, which fade almost to a red wine-like color before they disappear. It just isn't as pure, only supporting his statement that fire is not one of his better elements. The form of the flame coalesces into a male figure, dancing just slightly out of sync of Maira's female dancer. As the seconds tick by and the dance becomes clearer, the male figure's movements sync better and better with Maira's. But it is still clear that Maira herself is leading this display of flame.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Very seldom does Maira have someone like this to practice this with. All too often her fire has been put to use in battle, always trying to protect herself or the people she cares about, often by harming the people and creatures that were against them. All too often her magic was summoned when violence was near. This display lightened her heart, a warm smile on her face as she leads the dance, watching with wonder as the two figures come together to join hands and dance around each other in graceful arcs and turns, limber in flame. Maira tears her eyes away to look to Matthew, her eyes shining. "You're very good!" she informs him.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew smiles softly, just watching the figures dance as one. "Not as good as you, lass," he replies lightly. The male flickers once in a while, but the flame doesn't go out--instead seeming to regain strength from the bright female. It also seems to take Matthew a bit more focus to maintain the flame, at least without cheating by way of Air magic or something.

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' She blushes, laughing lightly. "Well, fire is my element. I bet you can do much better with those you are better attuned to," she informs him, letting the female figure fizzle out, disappearing in a small puff of smoke. "That was fun. I don't get to do things like that, almost ever. Seems like I'm always fighting," she sighs.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The male figure fades like a candle's flame deprived of air, not even smoke marking its passing. Matthew lowers his hand and bows his head. "That is good to hear." He laughs softly a little bit. "It is why I became a performer, I suppose. To lift spirits, to ease hearts, to provide a small window to simpler things and times." He grins, a playing card appearing between his fingers. "Perhaps also to find magic--" The card flips between fingers and becomes a bright red flower with white edges around each petal and a sweet fragrance besides. Not a rose, surprisingly enough. "--In the mundane." He then offers the flower to Maira. "A gift of my own thanks to you."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira smiles, nodding. "That's good. The people really need that to keep them going sometimes. Those small things...but they are powerful, aren't they?" Maira's eyes widen as the card turn into a flower and he offers it to her. A shadow passes over her mien briefly, as she can't help but remember the last time she was offered a flower. This time though, she takes it, for it seems innocent enough. "Thank you...its beautiful...but you don't need to thank me for anything! How /did/ you do that? Will it turn back into a card?" she asks, examining the delicate object, bringing it to her nose to breathe in its scent.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew just grins impishly as Maira examines the flower. "Magic loses itself when logic is applied, hence why a magician never tells his secrets. It may disappear entirely if I explain it." He lies down in the sand, folding his arms under his head. "It will not return to being a card, but I fear the magic won't last forever." He gazes upwards at the stars. "But if you plan to enjoy it until it fades, it is a gift well given."

:'''[[Maira]] has posed:''' Maira smiles, then reaches up to stick the flower behind her ear. "I most certainly will!" "Well um...I don't have a camera in my phone, but maybe you could meet my friend sometime if you'll still be around town. I should probably get going," she says, getting to her feet. "It was nice meeting you Matthew!"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus chuckles. "I will hold the rain-check for that picture until our next meeting. I would love to meet your friend as well." He rolls to his feet, brushing off the worst of the sand, then bows at the waist to her. It has an almost royal air to it, but too casual to be properly done. "And it was a pleasure meeting you too, Maira. Until next we meet."

Emperor Mateus

2013-04-19T23:17:08Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Character Infobox
|firstname=Mateus
|lastname=Palamecia
|age=Possibly mid 20's, uncertain
|image=Mateus_Contemplation.png‎
|species=Human
|sex=Male
|height=5'9"
|weight=170 lbs.
|series=Final Fantasy 2
|styles=Trap Master
|hometown=Palamecia
|alignment=Forces of Ruin
|group=Shadow Lords
|occupation=Emperor
|quote="Can you win with shadows in your heart?"
|footer=Biding one's time pays such great dividends...
}}
{| class="wikitable"
!colspan="6" style="background-color: #CED8F6;"|Character Sheet
|-
|rowspan="2" style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|'''Profile:'''
|style="background-color: #071019;"|[[File:MateusFirion.jpg|450px|center]]
|-
|Emperor Mateus of Palamecia sought to rule the entire Imperial World, utilizing darkness and Heartless to make his goal a reality. But when the world fell and merged with the World of Ruin, a far greater opportunity presented itself. He is well known in his world as coldly calculating and ruthless, ambitious but not overreaching, with a sharp mind and sharper intuition. Though he prefers to manipulate beyond the shadows, controlling hearts and minds, he is no stranger to the battlefield and utilizes powerful magic along with his command over the Heartless.
|-
|rowspan="1" style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|'''Skills:'''
|David Bowie, Dance Magic Dance (And Will Do It, Too), Affably Evil, (More To Come)
|}

= History =
In the Imperial World, the militaristic kingdom of Palamecia was always known as a land of darkness, closest to the mysterious realm of Pandemonium—what they considered to be 'Hell'. And this darkness would tempt Palamecia's kings and crown princes, whispering promises of power beyond compare. Early on in the dynasty, the kings stood strong against the whispers, becoming beacons of light in the mountainous darkness. But as the lineage grew longer, the whispers grew louder and the resistance to them weakened.

It was in such an era that Mateus of Palamecia was born, his father the King already well on the path of corruption. The king declared the kingdom into an empire, thus placing himself as emperor, and viewed his young son with nothing but contempt and suspicion. His wife and Mateus' mother, the queen Airu, was perhaps the sole source of light in the dark realm. She tried to nurture such things as hope and kindness in the young boy, but Mateus looked more to his father for influence. He found he did not disagree with the Emperor's intent, but the methods were too sloppy—too careless. And thus the whispers reached Mateus' heart, darkening it.

Queen Airu tried her best to prevent the darkness from taking her son as it had stolen her husband. Realizing Mateus' aptitude for magic, she had him sent away to Mysidia for training in the magical arts, hoping that through controlling magic he could also control the darkness within. Her instincts were not wrong and Mateus proved to be a magnificent black mage, a fast learner and a sharp student. His only failings were his snooty princely nature compared to his fellow mages in training and a more-than-healthy interest in dark arts beyond simple black magic. But he never pushed matters once boundaries were laid down, and though he did not have friends he never truly made enemies either.

But darkness calls to darkness, and Mateus' darkened heart could not forget its homeland. Dark clouds settled over the horizon beyond which Palamecia lay and Mateus, already a full-fledged wizard and just reaching manhood, felt the pull—heard the call. And thus he left Mysidia to return home, battling more and more creatures of the dark the closer he got to the castle. Seeing the effect of the darkness on the peasantry and royals alike, even his own mother, Mateus was determined to end the Emperor's reign of uncontrolled madness no matter what it took.

He descended into the deepest bowels of the castle, to a room of ancient craft teeming with darkness, where the Emperor was in the midst of a ritual. Drunk on power beyond understanding or control, he was preparing to sacrifice all of Palamecia to Pandemonium in order to receive even more. Mateus interrupted the Emperor's mad ravings, easily subduing his father with black magic both accepted and forbidden, and took command of the ritual. To the darkness and the eyes beyond, he ventured a deal—he would sacrifice the Emperor in return for power. Power to conquer and rule the whole Imperial World. Power to control the very darkness that sought to consume them all. And, if needed, power to send scores more lives to Pandemonium than Palamecia alone—for what kind of ruler sacrifices his own country in a bid for power?

The deep darkness accepted the Crown Prince's offer, sealed with the Emperor's blood spilt by his own son. Golden-eyed shadows consumed their would-be master and Mateus rose to the throne in his father's place. Though the darkness retreated, contained, the dark clouds did not lift over Palamecia. Queen Mother Airu pleaded with her son, tried to pull him back from his dark path, but Mateus had completely given his heart to the darkness. As a final kindness, Mateus banished Queen Mother Airu to the deserts beyond the mountainous land, away from the darkness she so feared and away from him. This was perhaps the last good deed he ever accomplished, and thus began the final chapter of the Imperial World—stained in blood and darkness.

[[File:Mateus Default.png|200px|right|Default Armor]]

Emperor Mateus studied Pandemonium, finding it to be a not just another land but a completely separate plane of existence made of pure darkness. It was not Hell, not as whispered by superstitious adults to their young children. When his father had initiated the ritual in the depths of Palamecia Castle to access 'Pandamonium', what he had truly done was open a Corridor of Darkness into the plane of The Darkness itself. Had Mateus not gained control this temporary Corridor, the Imperial World would have been consumed with no direction nor purpose. Learning this gave the Emperor a new-found appreciation for the powers at his command and the drive to master them utterly.

Though learning how to control the Heartless took longer than anticipated, he did not keep to himself in his castle while the world trembled. He assembled his armies, bolstered and strengthened beyond human limits by darkness' might, and sent them out to surrounding lands to conquer all who stood in his way. Kingdom after kingdom fell under his control, whether by militaristic conquest or intimidating diplomacy, until he reached the small kingdom of Fynn. It fought his forces valiantly, but even they eventually fell thanks in part to a Fynnian noble, Borghen, defecting to the Palamecian Empire and enabling Emperor Mateus' forces to breach Fynn's walls. Word reached him that four youths escaped Fynn upon its occupation and only one was recaptured, but Mateus thought little of it. He instead corrupted the youth brought to him, turning into the Dark Knight and sealing his heart so that he would forget everything... even his original name: Leon.

He paused his conquest for a time, strengthening his forces with monsters tamed with darkness as he secured his hold on the conquered. He ordered for an airship to be built, using the conquered populace of Bafsk as a workforce. During this time, he started to see movement from Kashuan guerrilla fighters calling themselves the 'Wild Rose Rebellion'. Though he dismissed their threat, he paid close attention to their movements and found three names that were constantly included in such reports: Firion, Maria, and Guy. Perhaps those were the three youths that had escaped Fynn?

Only when he tracked their movements towards Bafsk did he act again, not so much in reaction to the Rebellion as much as the airship 'Dreadnought' had reached completion. Mateus took to the air, resuming his conquering of kingdoms by wielding the Dreadnought as a weapon of mass destruction. He made certain to destroy Altair in the process, having received more than enough information that pointed to it as the base of the Wild Rose Rebellion. He assigned Borghen to tail the youths in particular and stop them from achieving any goal they set for themselves.

Upon receiving a series of reports of the youths traveling to the Snow Cave and retrieving the Goddess Bell, Emperor Mateus extrapolated what their plan would be and set up a trap accordingly. Sure enough, the youths went to Kashuan Keep and retrieved the Sunfire from within, then they waited for Cid's Airship to come retrieve them. Mateus was ready and the Dreadnought intercepted, capturing both Cid and Princess Hilda along with the airship. This, however, was only to give these youths an even greater reason to risk infiltrating the Dreadnought. The true trap had yet to be sprung.

He purposefully had the Dreadnought land for refueling outside of the Palamecian mountain range, and the youths did not disappoint him. They boarded, seeking their companions and the destruction of the airship, but Mateus had a horrid surprise for them. The airship was crewed not by Palamecian soldiers, but by Heartless—a force no rebel had dealt with before. The Heartless drove away the youths before their goals could be accomplished and thus the monsters set about devouring the Imperial World itself.

Surprisingly, the Imperial World did not fall completely. Fragments coalesced with other fragments into the World of Ruin itself, kingdoms and lands never known to each other now neighbors. Finding Palamecia relatively unchallenged on the northern continent, Emperor Mateus pulled back his forces and strengthened his control on what remained of the Imperial World. Borghen was named Consul of Fynn and Mysidia had merged with another City of Magic by the same name, but most—if not all—other kingdoms and lands had fallen to Darkness.

Thus, Mateus watched, unthreatened and ignored. He watched as kingdoms formed allegiances and adversaries, watched as portals opened to worlds unimagined—full of technology and wonders. He measured the light of so-called heroes of lands both foreign and familiar, and he waited for the youths to reveal themselves once again. Surely their dream could not be consumed so easily? But as time passed and matters stabilized, Emperor Mateus could wait no longer and he prepared his forces to move. If the youths truly have survived, they will reveal themselves in time—and if not, then neither their hearts nor their dream were worth his time after all.

= Abilities =

* Sorcerer
Emperor Mateus is primarily a Black Mage. His highest affinity is to Air and Thunder magics, but he is capable of using Fire, Dark, and non-elemental magic as well. He is capable of telekinesis, able to levitate himself and manipulate objects (or people) with a thought. Because of his levitation ability, he is able to fly for as long as his concentration holds but is not adverse to walking and is quite capable of standard locomotion. He is capable of magically changing his clothing on the fly, even without taking Portal Magic into consideration. He is also capable of using his magic as little harmless tricks and sleights of hand if he is so inclined.

He keeps orbs handy for magic tricks, contact juggling, or combat—which he infuses magic into these orbs in order to turn them into mines. He owns a staff that he can manipulate with telekinesis and can even magically compress it into a cane, but his magic is not dependent on the item. He also owns an airship, the Dreadnought, but it is for RP flavor only—I do not intend to stat the airship at this time.

* Shadow Lord
Emperor Mateus can use Heartless, but he has not yet created his own specific 'breed' of Heartless. For now, he uses Emblem Heartless--having a particular fondness for the Soldier-type and Knight-type (such as Soldier and Dual Blade, respectively). He is not adverse to using Pureblood Heartless, but he does find that the Emblem types are easier to control.

No, it is the darkness itself he is far more skilled at using. He is able to create Corridors of Darkness easily, and will be visiting new locations to further his 'teleport list', if you will. He is capable of locking away someone's heart, brainwashing and corrupting them to his side—as seen canonically with Leon in particular. He would measure heroes based on the strength of their heart and test how strong the shadows within them actually are. He may even research into the (currently not introduced) concept of Nobodies. The extent of such displays of power, however, are dependent on the scene and player consent accordingly.

= Other Appearances =
[[File:Mateus_Robed.png‎|200px|left|Royal Outfit]]

Emperor Mateus' wardrobe is varied, and he is not adverse to wearing clothing not of Palamecian origin. He has been seen wearing modern clothing, whether a nice dress-shirt with dress jacket and slacks, or even jeans and a T-shirt. His hair can even change from silver, to platinum blonde, to pure blonde with the purple highlights. It is difficult to peg exactly what he likes best, as he can change his appearance easily and it may depend on his mood or why he is in a given area. His magic cannot overcome the Portal Magic version of wardrobe change, and especially not if a full transformation is required, but he can alter the details if it is not to his liking.

= Logs =
{{Character Logs}}

= Cutscenes =
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Palamecian Empire

2013-04-19T20:08:00Z

Gridkeeper: /* Palamecia Military */ Updated text overview and explanation of each rank.

{{Group
|leader=Emperor Mateus, Borghen
|role=Total Domination
|alignment=Forces of Ruin
|appable=Yes
|groupimage=Palamecian Empire.gif
|description=The Empire of Palamecia is lead by 'The Emperor', and seeks to to take over the world. Things seem fairly simple on the forefront - however the methods are unbeknownst to many. When the Emperor sought to raise the Demons from hell, he was given a second visiting race he managed to control even then; these Heartless came from the depths of the world, and have since the shift of worlds become an obvious force in this kingdom's army.

The Empire also owns [[Fynn]] at this very time, as it is in the controlling hands of [[Borghen]] - protected by these very same dark minions. The Kashuan airship remains in Palamecia now however - partially damaged thanks to the Wild Rose Rebellion.
}}
= History =
Palamecia was once a kingdom before it became an empire. A previous king of Palamecia had once challenged the world to see who could reach his daughter on a high floor of his castle. Many men tried this challenge, but they all failed, until one man used a hot air balloon to reach her. The king was furious and attempted to seize him, but the man escaped into the skies with the king's daughter. The story is basically an adaptation of the traditional Rapunzel fairy tale.

= Palamecia Military =
There are many different groups within the military of Palamecia. Any manner of job can find their place here: foot soldiers, cavalry, mages, beast tamers, and spies to name but a few. The most important requirement to joining is an absolute loyalty to Palamecia and Emperor Mateus, as cowardice and treachery is not tolerated.

{| class="wikitable"
!colspan="6" style="background-color: #CED8F6;"|Military Rank Listing
|-
|rowspan="2" style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|
|style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|''Operatives:''
|style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|''Knights:''
|style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|''Officers:''
|style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|''Elites:''
|-
|[[CAPGRAS]]
|''None''
|''None''
|[[Leon]]
|}

'''Operative:'''
These are intelligence personnel, those who may or may not hold allegiance to Palamecia yet answer directly to Emperor Mateus. Characters interested in working alongside Palamecia because personal goals coincide, or perhaps wish to prove themselves into joining Palamecia instead of simply enlisting, would be classified here.

'''Knights:'''
These are your rank-and-file, soldiers and enlisted personnel. They are normal people, but are utterly loyal to Palamecia and are the bulk of the military. All are trained with various weapons, armor, horsemanship, and sometimes even magic. Characters interested in joining Palamecia's military would usually start here.

'''Officers:'''
Marked with red eyes and full dark armor, these are the upper echelon of the military. Though they still retain their memories and light remains in their hearts, their connection to the Darkness is very strong. All have proven their loyalty as Knights and were granted a dark gift along with their promotion. Characters will have to IC'ly work to reach this rank.

'''Elites:'''
These are the lieutenants who answer solely to Emperor Mateus and command specific aspects of the military force. There is only one of these at this time, the Dark Knight Leon. It will be very rare for anyone to reach this level and will be handled on a case-by-case basis.

== Enlisting ==
<Enlisting information here>

Emperor Mateus

2013-04-19T19:18:34Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Character Infobox
|firstname=Mateus
|lastname=Palamecia
|age=Mid to late 20's
|image=Mateus_Contemplation.png‎
|species=Human
|sex=Male
|height=5'9"
|weight=170 lbs.
|series=Final Fantasy 2
|styles=Trap Master
|hometown=Palamecia
|alignment=Forces of Ruin
|group=Shadow Lords
|occupation=Emperor
|quote="Can you win with shadows in your heart?"
|footer=Biding one's time pays such great dividends...
}}
{| class="wikitable"
!colspan="6" style="background-color: #CED8F6;"|Character Sheet
|-
|rowspan="2" style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|'''Profile:'''
|style="background-color: #071019;"|[[File:MateusFirion.jpg|450px|center]]
|-
|Emperor Mateus of Palamecia sought to rule the entire Imperial World, utilizing darkness and Heartless to make his goal a reality. But when the world fell and merged with the World of Ruin, a far greater opportunity presented itself. He is well known in his world as coldly calculating and ruthless, ambitious but not overreaching, with a sharp mind and sharper intuition. Though he prefers to manipulate beyond the shadows, controlling hearts and minds, he is no stranger to the battlefield and utilizes powerful magic along with his command over the Heartless.
|-
|rowspan="1" style="background-color: #BDBDBD;"|'''Skills:'''
|David Bowie, Dance Magic Dance (And Will Do It, Too), Affably Evil, (More To Come)
|}

= History =
In the Imperial World, the militaristic kingdom of Palamecia was always known as a land of darkness, closest to the mysterious realm of Pandemonium—what they considered to be 'Hell'. And this darkness would tempt Palamecia's kings and crown princes, whispering promises of power beyond compare. Early on in the dynasty, the kings stood strong against the whispers, becoming beacons of light in the mountainous darkness. But as the lineage grew longer, the whispers grew louder and the resistance to them weakened.

It was in such an era that Mateus of Palamecia was born, his father the King already well on the path of corruption. The king declared the kingdom into an empire, thus placing himself as emperor, and viewed his young son with nothing but contempt and suspicion. His wife and Mateus' mother, the queen Airu, was perhaps the sole source of light in the dark realm. She tried to nurture such things as hope and kindness in the young boy, but Mateus looked more to his father for influence. He found he did not disagree with the Emperor's intent, but the methods were too sloppy—too careless. And thus the whispers reached Mateus' heart, darkening it.

Queen Airu tried her best to prevent the darkness from taking her son as it had stolen her husband. Realizing Mateus' aptitude for magic, she had him sent away to Mysidia for training in the magical arts, hoping that through controlling magic he could also control the darkness within. Her instincts were not wrong and Mateus proved to be a magnificent black mage, a fast learner and a sharp student. His only failings were his snooty princely nature compared to his fellow mages in training and a more-than-healthy interest in dark arts beyond simple black magic. But he never pushed matters once boundaries were laid down, and though he did not have friends he never truly made enemies either.

But darkness calls to darkness, and Mateus' darkened heart could not forget its homeland. Dark clouds settled over the horizon beyond which Palamecia lay and Mateus, already a full-fledged wizard and just reaching manhood, felt the pull—heard the call. And thus he left Mysidia to return home, battling more and more creatures of the dark the closer he got to the castle. Seeing the effect of the darkness on the peasantry and royals alike, even his own mother, Mateus was determined to end the Emperor's reign of uncontrolled madness no matter what it took.

He descended into the deepest bowels of the castle, to a room of ancient craft teeming with darkness, where the Emperor was in the midst of a ritual. Drunk on power beyond understanding or control, he was preparing to sacrifice all of Palamecia to Pandemonium in order to receive even more. Mateus interrupted the Emperor's mad ravings, easily subduing his father with black magic both accepted and forbidden, and took command of the ritual. To the darkness and the eyes beyond, he ventured a deal—he would sacrifice the Emperor in return for power. Power to conquer and rule the whole Imperial World. Power to control the very darkness that sought to consume them all. And, if needed, power to send scores more lives to Pandemonium than Palamecia alone—for what kind of ruler sacrifices his own country in a bid for power?

The deep darkness accepted the Crown Prince's offer, sealed with the Emperor's blood spilt by his own son. Golden-eyed shadows consumed their would-be master and Mateus rose to the throne in his father's place. Though the darkness retreated, contained, the dark clouds did not lift over Palamecia. Queen Mother Airu pleaded with her son, tried to pull him back from his dark path, but Mateus had completely given his heart to the darkness. As a final kindness, Mateus banished Queen Mother Airu to the deserts beyond the mountainous land, away from the darkness she so feared and away from him. This was perhaps the last good deed he ever accomplished, and thus began the final chapter of the Imperial World—stained in blood and darkness.

[[File:Mateus Default.png|200px|right|Default Armor]]

Emperor Mateus studied Pandemonium, finding it to be a not just another land but a completely separate plane of existence made of pure darkness. It was not Hell, not as whispered by superstitious adults to their young children. When his father had initiated the ritual in the depths of Palamecia Castle to access 'Pandamonium', what he had truly done was open a Corridor of Darkness into the plane of The Darkness itself. Had Mateus not gained control this temporary Corridor, the Imperial World would have been consumed with no direction nor purpose. Learning this gave the Emperor a new-found appreciation for the powers at his command and the drive to master them utterly.

Though learning how to control the Heartless took longer than anticipated, he did not keep to himself in his castle while the world trembled. He assembled his armies, bolstered and strengthened beyond human limits by darkness' might, and sent them out to surrounding lands to conquer all who stood in his way. Kingdom after kingdom fell under his control, whether by militaristic conquest or intimidating diplomacy, until he reached the small kingdom of Fynn. It fought his forces valiantly, but even they eventually fell thanks in part to a Fynnian noble, Borghen, defecting to the Palamecian Empire and enabling Emperor Mateus' forces to breach Fynn's walls. Word reached him that four youths escaped Fynn upon its occupation and only one was recaptured, but Mateus thought little of it. He instead corrupted the youth brought to him, turning into the Dark Knight and sealing his heart so that he would forget everything... even his original name: Leon.

He paused his conquest for a time, strengthening his forces with monsters tamed with darkness as he secured his hold on the conquered. He ordered for an airship to be built, using the conquered populace of Bafsk as a workforce. During this time, he started to see movement from Kashuan guerrilla fighters calling themselves the 'Wild Rose Rebellion'. Though he dismissed their threat, he paid close attention to their movements and found three names that were constantly included in such reports: Firion, Maria, and Guy. Perhaps those were the three youths that had escaped Fynn?

Only when he tracked their movements towards Bafsk did he act again, not so much in reaction to the Rebellion as much as the airship 'Dreadnought' had reached completion. Mateus took to the air, resuming his conquering of kingdoms by wielding the Dreadnought as a weapon of mass destruction. He made certain to destroy Altair in the process, having received more than enough information that pointed to it as the base of the Wild Rose Rebellion. He assigned Borghen to tail the youths in particular and stop them from achieving any goal they set for themselves.

Upon receiving a series of reports of the youths traveling to the Snow Cave and retrieving the Goddess Bell, Emperor Mateus extrapolated what their plan would be and set up a trap accordingly. Sure enough, the youths went to Kashuan Keep and retrieved the Sunfire from within, then they waited for Cid's Airship to come retrieve them. Mateus was ready and the Dreadnought intercepted, capturing both Cid and Princess Hilda along with the airship. This, however, was only to give these youths an even greater reason to risk infiltrating the Dreadnought. The true trap had yet to be sprung.

He purposefully had the Dreadnought land for refueling outside of the Palamecian mountain range, and the youths did not disappoint him. They boarded, seeking their companions and the destruction of the airship, but Mateus had a horrid surprise for them. The airship was crewed not by Palamecian soldiers, but by Heartless—a force no rebel had dealt with before. The Heartless drove away the youths before their goals could be accomplished and thus the monsters set about devouring the Imperial World itself.

Surprisingly, the Imperial World did not fall completely. Fragments coalesced with other fragments into the World of Ruin itself, kingdoms and lands never known to each other now neighbors. Finding Palamecia relatively unchallenged on the northern continent, Emperor Mateus pulled back his forces and strengthened his control on what remained of the Imperial World. Borghen was named Consul of Fynn and Mysidia had merged with another City of Magic by the same name, but most—if not all—other kingdoms and lands had fallen to Darkness.

Thus, Mateus watched, unthreatened and ignored. He watched as kingdoms formed allegiances and adversaries, watched as portals opened to worlds unimagined—full of technology and wonders. He measured the light of so-called heroes of lands both foreign and familiar, and he waited for the youths to reveal themselves once again. Surely their dream could not be consumed so easily? But as time passed and matters stabilized, Emperor Mateus could wait no longer and he prepared his forces to move. If the youths truly have survived, they will reveal themselves in time—and if not, then neither their hearts nor their dream were worth his time after all.

= Abilities =

* Sorcerer
Emperor Mateus is primarily a Black Mage. His highest affinity is to Air and Thunder magics, but he is capable of using Fire, Dark, and non-elemental magic as well. He is capable of telekinesis, able to levitate himself and manipulate objects (or people) with a thought. Because of his levitation ability, he is able to fly for as long as his concentration holds but is not adverse to walking and is quite capable of standard locomotion. He is capable of magically changing his clothing on the fly, even without taking Portal Magic into consideration. He is also capable of using his magic as little harmless tricks and sleights of hand if he is so inclined.

He keeps orbs handy for magic tricks, contact juggling, or combat—which he infuses magic into these orbs in order to turn them into mines. He owns a staff that he can manipulate with telekinesis and can even magically compress it into a cane, but his magic is not dependent on the item. He also owns an airship, the Dreadnought, but it is for RP flavor only—I do not intend to stat the airship at this time.

* Shadow Lord
Emperor Mateus can use Heartless, but he has not yet created his own specific 'breed' of Heartless. For now, he uses Emblem Heartless--having a particular fondness for the Soldier-type and Knight-type (such as Soldier and Dual Blade, respectively). He is not adverse to using Pureblood Heartless, but he does find that the Emblem types are easier to control.

No, it is the darkness itself he is far more skilled at using. He is able to create Corridors of Darkness easily, and will be visiting new locations to further his 'teleport list', if you will. He is capable of locking away someone's heart, brainwashing and corrupting them to his side—as seen canonically with Leon in particular. He would measure heroes based on the strength of their heart and test how strong the shadows within them actually are. He may even research into the (currently not introduced) concept of Nobodies. The extent of such displays of power, however, are dependent on the scene and player consent accordingly.

= Other Appearances =
[[File:Mateus_Robed.png‎|200px|left|Royal Outfit]]

Emperor Mateus' wardrobe is varied, and he is not adverse to wearing clothing not of Palamecian origin. He has been seen wearing modern clothing, whether a nice dress-shirt with dress jacket and slacks, or even jeans and a T-shirt. His hair can even change from silver, to platinum blonde, to pure blonde with the purple highlights. It is difficult to peg exactly what he likes best, as he can change his appearance easily and it may depend on his mood or why he is in a given area. His magic cannot overcome the Portal Magic version of wardrobe change, and especially not if a full transformation is required, but he can alter the details if it is not to his liking.

= Logs =
{{Character Logs}}

= Cutscenes =
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

File:MateusFirion.jpg

2013-04-19T19:04:41Z

Gridkeeper:

File:Mateus Contemplation.png

2013-04-19T19:00:02Z

Gridkeeper: A quick view of 'Matthew', the alias of Emperor Mateus when masquerading as a street performer

A quick view of 'Matthew', the alias of Emperor Mateus when masquerading as a street performer

File:Mateus Robed.png

2013-04-19T18:39:23Z

Gridkeeper:

File:Mateus Default.png

2013-04-19T18:37:52Z

Gridkeeper:

Advanced Warning

2013-04-16T05:34:06Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/15 |Location=Traverse Area - Traverse Town - Datapoint Security |Synopsis=What one does when there is common enemy. With new information in..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/15
|Location=Traverse Area - Traverse Town - Datapoint Security
|Synopsis=What one does when there is common enemy. With new information in hand (or on Disc), TRON decides to brave the lion's den to warn his worst enemy of Something (worse than) Wicked This Way Comes.
|Cast of Characters=TRON, MCP
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' On the outskirts of Traverse Town sits the headquarters for Datapoint Security, the security/police force that protects the twilit world. The walkway framed by carefully manicured greenery on each side and the complex's outward appearance of old red stone and ancient wood would give clear indication that someone of power lives here. And indeed, there is—and more besides. Usually, the ill-used dirt path alongside the abandoned rails, which would terminate at the beginning of the walkway, would remain as quiet and uneventful as always. This is not one of those days. A dust-cloud billows up from the distance as something fast approaches the headquarters, and on the wind you can hear the unmistakable whine of a highly-advanced motorcycle engine. Sure enough, as the last bend is reached, a light-blue first-generation Light Cycle screams on the path at what is most likely its top speed. However, as it approaches the transition point, the canopied vehicle suddenly goes transparent with blue lines of light tracing where its frame would be, then the rider tucks and rolls as even that disappears. The rider tumbles once, twice, then lunges to his feet at a long-legged jog before momentum gives out and his pace slows to a brisk march. His features aren't clear mid-tumble, but his appearance seems to change with each step. A possible helmet retracts into his neckline, revealing a human face with brown hair and narrowed brown eyes. Black ripples and becomes white, and glowing bluish-white thick lines trace over his form with a circular ring pulsing into sight framing a T-shaped mark on his chest. A solid blue baton is slipped onto a holster on his thigh, but no motion goes towards the silver Frisbee-like Disc between his shoulder-blades. He moves heedless of possible Black Guard intervention as he crosses the threshold into the garden of what would usually be enemy territory, his steps sharp and purposeful but his entire stance non-threatening. In fact, the expression on his face isn't hateful nor even angry—but clearly downright worried.

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' LANCER opens the door and peers out at the approaching Tron. "Uh. Hi." he says with several blinks and the slightly stunned look of data being processed a little too slowly or in too great amount. He shrugs at some unseen dialogue and points up the stairs. "He's in his office." The DPS agent then stands away from TRON and peers at him curiously. Nobody moves to intercept TRON. In fact, other than LANCER nobody seems to even take notice of him although there are several points where he /could/ be impeded by force screen or black guards. He simply is not. The MCP stands in one corner of his office watching the walls as surveillance images from nodes all over Traverse Town flicker between different scrolling feeds of data. His back is to the door and remains so.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON sharply nods once to LANCER as he enters DPS HQ, his stride unchanging. “Thank you, LANCER.” He isn't intending to be rude nor curt, but it's clear that the Security Program is in full business mode at the moment. Small talk is not in the queue at the moment, nor is his usual piercing snark. He doesn't pause nor even survey his surroundings as he makes his way to Master Control's office, impeded by no-one and nothing en-route up the stairs or within the hallways. He disregards the presence of any other Black Guards as one would dismiss a passing Data Pusher. In fact, his gait only slows as he approaches the MCP's office door, the first flicker of 'what the heck are you /doing/, Program' starting to impede his thought processes. No. No, he knows why he's here, and it's far too important. He also knows that Master Control is expecting him, otherwise he's certain beyond reasonable doubt that he'd be in a holding cell by now otherwise. He raps his knuckles on the door twice in sharp staccato, then opens the door and enters the office. He only advances far enough into the room to let the door close behind him, ignoring the data-feeds flickering in his peripheral vision. His sole attention is focused on Master Control's back, albeit without that distrustful borderline-reproachful look that would usually be standard. “Administrator.” He stands at perfect attention, his hands folding together at the small of his back. “We have a major problem.” Something is /very/ wrong if /TRON/ is giving /Master Control/ the proper respect due to a System Administrator.

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' "There are always problems, system monitor." Apparently the courtesy goes both ways and with about as much general inflection and nuance as assembly code. MCP studies a familiar light mapping while the surveillance cameras continue to scroll, his voice distracted. "..the questions always arise when it comes time to choose a solution. Speak. I am curious as to what is so important."

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON successfully resists the urge to raise an eyebrow at the return title. He was never User-promoted to System Monitor... but this is hardly the time nor place for nitpicking nuances, especially considering this may be the sole time the two will be halfway civil to each other. He does not mince words, either, his calm voice only having a fraction of urgency within its otherwise-neutral tones. “Within one week's time, a Shadow Lord named Garland will come to Traverse Town.” He removes his Discs, putting his Silver Disc down at his foot and holding up his White Disc like a plate in the palm of his hand out towards the Administrator. An image appears above the Disc's hollow center, a moving image of Garland emerging from a Corridor of Darkness with pureblood Heartless emerging from a misty trail of pure Darkness in his wake. “His goal is undoubtedly to attack this town and anyone in it, extracting justice for past wrongs by spilling innocent blood as repayment.” The 'video' continues, showing Garland attacking Count Valos, how spells and Darkness is almost visibly brute-forced into being, his outright mastery of combat and tactics. All of this seems to be from one encounter, and apparently from a first-person perspective—clearly TRON's. TRON himself is ignoring the memories playing back in his mind with full audio as they display for Master Control to see, that terrible laugh being the worst of all and echoing from every corner of his mind even after it ends. Instead, he focuses on the pure data. “I have heard VALKYRI and the Twilight Detective Agency are already making preparations for Garland's coming, calling upon favors and allies alike. However, I was not certain whether or not Datapoint Security had access to this information, hence why I am here now.”

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' MCP still seems absorbed in whatever he is already thinking about until the datafeed starts to play. He stops it at several points, rewinding and replaying the copy of that file once he has already watched it for a first time. Several screens now show multiple images of that file, running at different speeds and stopping and restarting in different places. The office remains silent, no audio being transmitted so that nothing but the somehow ominous hum of electronics fills the air. "..Fascinating." the administrator gives a very small and amused smile. "Perhaps there is something to be learned from such phantoms, to startle you so. Is that all?" all of the windows freeze and then close simultaneously as he turns away from TRON, returning to his study of the light map with no hint of either worry or interest.

:'''[[TRON]] has posed:''' TRON lowers his Disc once the video concludes, recombining his Discs and returning it to the spindle on his back. He has no witty or venomous comeback for Master Control, not even seeming to react with body language nor expression to the attitude shown. Either it's a perfect example of self-control, or the Security Program simply does not even care right now. He has done his part. Datapoint Security has been warned. What they do with the information, if anything, is their concern and their responsibility. TRON will fight in Traverse Town's defense regardless. His reply is thus very simple. “That is all.” He inclines his head. “I will take my leave, Administrator. Thank you for your time.” With that, he makes a sharp and perfect about-face and moves to leave the office with the same business-like stride that brought him in here.

:'''[[MCP]] has posed:''' MCP continues to study the lightmap for a long time after TRON has already left, studying the pathways and the connections. A very, very light sound emits from the cane laying on the desk some steps away. "HEIMDALL?" he says over the radio network as he brings up the video file again and plays it frame by frame, studying the feed. "..go find CHIEF, if you would." the last few frames scroll by and the MCP's eyes pulse faintly as he makes a slow turn of the surveillance footage of Traverse Town. "It's time."

From Twilight to Darkness

2013-04-16T05:16:17Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/09 |Location=Traverse Town, Palamecia |Synopsis=After extending a hand of friendship, Matthew the street performer prepares to lead Rena to..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/09
|Location=Traverse Town, Palamecia
|Synopsis=After extending a hand of friendship, Matthew the street performer prepares to lead Rena to his home. But will the Shivan follow...?
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus, Rena Laradyne
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' In a small inn within Traverse Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the main road connecting all the Districts together, the street performer Matthew is making sure that he has not forgotten anything in his room. He has been here, entertaining the masses and receiving spare change he technically doesn’t really need, but fun and games must end sometime. It is time for him to return home, or what is left of it at least. And he won’t be alone this time around, or so he hopes. He has opened his temporary home-away-from-home to Rena Laradyne, to whom he had extended a helping hand a few days prior after one of his performances. He has let her come and go as she’d pleased, but he has at least given her forewarning that he intends to return to the World of Ruin on this day and would like her to come with him. So, as he finishes dispelling the last of his personal effects and putting the rest into a suitcase, he is already thinking. Thinking, considering, and perhaps waiting. A crystal orb floats around him at about shoulder-level as he moves, though it does not seem that he is conscious of it.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena has had a few days of quiet to recenter herself and so the shivan last seen tottering back and forth on the shaky edges of a glacial chasm as retreated to firmer ground again. She turns out to be quiet by nature, often sitting in a single spot and watching the activities play out around her with a bemused aura of stillness. Her eyes, light and flashing with quick humor nevertheless keeps that light hidden, shuttered behind a glassy stare and a smoky silence. She allows people to draw their own conclusions from such things. She brings her attention rarely to the crystalline sphere in her pocket, bending her focus on it as she moves it from hand to hand and rolls it between her fingers. When the stillness abates she moves suddenly and forcefully, rising from to move into another room and another activity. She rarely asks questions but always listens. The last day or two she has spent in quietly repairing her armor and attending to her gear, collapsing the compound bow and cleaning it. Her fingers play over the cloth covered surface of the deep scars and the mottled and withered skin along her left knee and leg, spilling up one hip to just underneath the breastbone. She does not dwell long and sets to tinkering with a small computer from the pocket of her uniform jacket, tinkering with the settings for awhile. Looking at the familiar markings and playing a game for a few minutes. By accident she brings up the call list on the way to turning it off. She stares at her brother's phone number at the top of the short listing. Rena turns off the little computer, tucking it away again as she rises from the bed. She reassembles the bow and returns to her chores with fastidious concentration. She then goes looking for 'Matthew' once she is convinced her voice will function properly when used. "Almost finished?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew hears Rena’s approach and turns his head in that direction as he picks up his suitcase. A wide grin is on his face as the Shivan speaks, the orb falling onto his free hand like it was dropped from a ledge. “Actually, I am completely finished. All that remains to be done is to hand in the keys and head for home.” He slings the smallish suitcase over one shoulder and idly juggles the orb in his free hand, rolling it from the back of the hand to the palm and back again in a figure-eight motion. “And you, Rena? Do you have anything left to do here?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena approaches him with a faint curiosity, looking at suitcase and orb and then back at the performer (in more than one sense). "Just this." She smiles at the last moment reaching out a hand that stills the juggling orb, reaching down to loosely grip his fingers, sweeping the orb away in her other hand so that she might bring up his fingers to lightly brush them with her lips. An oddly inversed moment of chivalric manners as she twists her hand and offers the orb back to Matthew after she drops his other hand. Her eyes spark with mischief as she brushes a strand of her carefully done up hair back behind her shoulder. "Shall we go then? I am.. actually looking forwards to this. And I have you to thank for that."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew looks mildly surprised as reverse chivalry plays its part in the conversation, but a quiet chuckle relays his amusement. “You honor me indeed, my lady.” He accepts his orb back with a deft twist of the wrist and deeply bows to her at the waist with a regal flourish. “I can only hope what is left of my home can meet your expectations.” He motions for her to follow as he turns and leaves the room, heading out to the service desk to drop off the keys and pay the boarding cost. Fortunately, the Munny he has received throughout his time as a street performer proves to be more than enough, and he pockets the remainder. As they depart the inn and make their way through Traverse Town, he looks thoughtful for a moment as he surveys the stores that pass by. “My home is within what is now the Northern Continent of the World of Ruin,” he explains, having not exactly given specifics of where they are going before now. “We could take the long route, through established portals and airships. But perhaps...” He smiles impishly, like a mischievous boy about to jump a fence he isn’t allowed to cross, “...we could take a shortcut instead. What say you, Rena?”

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' "Well." Rena says with a bemused smile. "I think you have a running start on me in that regard. After all, every Shamanate along with every petty soul-trader and hollow chieftain of Shiva didn't manage to outrun their own doom." Rena stretches in place and shakes herself, working out a twinge in her arm as she follows him back to the common room. she clicks her tongue, chuckling deep in her throat as she leans conspiratorily towards Matthew. "I've counciled too often to take the safe road. I.. believe.. I don't feel like giving that counsel anymore." She looks around, teasing. "You might want to be mindful though. Whatever is out there, you ought to be warned that I gain momentum quite quickly when I apply myself."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew chuckles as he pauses at the entry into an alleyway, though the sound is more akin to a soft ‘fufufufu’. “The warning is noted, but such does not sound like an undesirable trait to have. Besides, ‘tis not danger from monsters or Darkness that concern me. I am quite familiar with both.” He walks down the alleyway a decent way, far enough in that the darkness obscures them from the bright street and any passing by. “I simply do not wish to create a fuss by doing...” His hand casually extends off to the side, the orb lifting out of his hand and glowing red before becoming the cat-eye-like gem at the top of a relatively ornate bladed staff. Rena would recognize the design as being identical to the cane he used on the second performance she witnessed. “...this.” He grasps the staff in one hand and taps the claw-like point at the bottom to the ground. There is a small flash of purple at the point of impact, then a black shadowy portal opens in front of them, obscuring the end of the alleyway. He continues walking casually as if nothing had happened, his stride unbroken and unhurried, and he casts a glance up to Rena as if to silently ask, ‘are you still with me?’

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena twists her mouth to the side, raising her eyebrows as she looks at the shadowy portal. Half a dozen stories come back to mind of shamans who used the power of the long dark season to steal the souls of the unwary. Stories of nightmen with reaching fingers of shadow told in the hush and secrecy of seclusion as if frightened that their voices may carry on the wind. Rena broke out in a bright and brilliant smile. Those stories sort of reminded her of the dire whisperings people threw in her direction when they though they were out of earshot. When she lay paralyzed on the furs, clutching her brother's hand as they told themselves how brave and strong and wise they were, and how cursed she was, and how it would be a mercy to cut their throats in the night. Somehow, in that light, the stories didn't seem all that frightening anymore. In fact. She drew a little comfort from them. Any dreary ghast or soul destroying monster of the wandering wastes always had things their own way. They MADE stories interesting, The others just passively listened and shuddered in their slandering, curse spouting boots. And this? This was going to be an interesting story. Rena strides forwards towards the dark portal. She hesitates for a moment, letting the darkness brush her outstretched fingers before stepping through it without further comment.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew needed no further response than Rena’s brilliant smile, continuing to grin like a cat that ate a proverbial canary even as he walks straight through the portal without a single misstep. It is done. The sight that greets them both on the other side of the portal is a welcome relief for Matthew, at the very least. A huge, expansive mountain range stretches out in front of them, a few peaks even showing signs of snow, and there appears to be a tunnel at the base of the closest mountain that is guarded by two dark-armored soldiers. A vast plain with strange crystalline structures scattered throughout are in the distance behind them. Nestled deep within the mountain range and standing taller than any of the peaks is a dark-stoned castle, almost seeming to have dark clouds ringing around its tallest towers. “I wished for you to see my true home from the outside, on the ground, before we made our way to it,” he says to his companion, sweeping one arm towards the distant castle. “Welcome to Palamecia, Rena.”

Something Old, Something New

2013-04-09T18:46:57Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/08 |Location=Traverse Town - District 1 |Synopsis=Matthew has returned to Traverse Town for another performance. A touch of magic, a bit of..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/08
|Location=Traverse Town - District 1
|Synopsis=Matthew has returned to Traverse Town for another performance. A touch of magic, a bit of wonder... and perhaps, weaving a glimmer of hope from despair.
|Cast of Characters=Rena Laradyne, Emperor Mateus
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Amongst the hustle and bustle of Traverse Town's First District, the street performers are at it again. And amongst their number is Matthew, the contact juggler who seems to be drawing attention to Dr. Facilier's storefront this time around. He is wearing a simple tight longsleeved and long-necked shirt, as well as slacks held up by a leather belt and what could almost be mistaken as loafers. Apparently he has expanded his repertoire since the last time he was seen. Magic is in the air, light and airy like an unknown perfume, augmenting his contact juggling with moments of levitation. He even seems to be using what appears to be a cane in the acts, controlling the orbs' motion as if it was an extention of himself. Despite the magic detectable by the perspective, however, it is clear that the majority of tricks are being done without the use of it. Only the instances of levitation, and those are not common.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena has returned to Traverse Town on the heels of another disastrous adventure. The physical toll was neglible in contrast to the toll it took on her spirit. She bit the inside of her mouth to quell such thoughts, focusing on replenishing her supplies in a way she did not do in Narshe. She answered no questions, only vanished back into the snow as soon as she awoke. Exiting the item shop she gathers her duster around her like a shield and wilts slightly as she rubs her arms. Her eyes scan the crowd and blink as she recognizes the street performer from before with another gathered assemblage. Rena manages the faintest twitch of a smile as she wanders over towards the performance. A hand reaches into her pockets, palming the crystal orb there but not drawing it out. She drinks in the performance in silence, watching the spheres spin and dance and even levitate.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' If Matthew notices the tall young woman in the crowd, he gives no indication of it. It does not seem that he will be calling upon her assistance this time around. No, instead he finishes his current routine with a flourish, three orbs dancing around his shoulders bolting down his arms and into the air above the crowd's heads before imploding in sprays of harmless light confetti that fall over them. As the small crowd cheers, Matthew bows with his cane sweeping in front of his form. Only when their applause calms does he move again, straightening with his head still bowed. His cane taps on the ground, then he steps to the side. The cane spins between his fingers to tap the cat-eye like stone on the ground. There is a pattern to this, and it almost seems to match a light tone in the background, like the beginnings of music. Only then does Matthew lift his head, his eyes half-closed, and he softly begins to sing: "Come, little children, I'll ta~ke thee a~way. I~nto a la~nd of encha~ntme~nt." As he sings, his tenor voice soothing, he begins to spin his cane like a baton. One hand to the other, around his arms, all in time to the music. "Come, little children, the time's co~me to pla~y." The cat-eye stone hovers between his fingertips, held like one of his orbs. "Here in my ga~rden of sha~do~ws." Upon the last word as the music expands beyond the mere piano, the cane leaves his hands and spins around him rapidly as he twists in the opposite direction, dragging his foot behind him.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena lets go of the crystal sphere in her pocket, withdrawing her hand and peering around at the small crowd. She was no longer possessed by the urge to leave because she knows what she will find there. Another quiet and empty room that is a passing memory. Rena snorts faintly. It seems the nomadic lifestyle has found her again, despite the best intentions of all that sent her away. Again the Shivan bites down, drawing blood this time as she maintains a facade of pleasant interest. She looks around, relaxing into the moment and using it to distract her as she finds a small bench to sit down on. She puts one hand carefully over the other, her armor packed away in the satchel over one shoulder that gives a muffled clatter as she sits down that disguises the creak of the bench. Rena sits back, listening to the soothing tenor and trying to wrench herself into an enjoyment of the present instead of a castigation about the past. The past is gone and the future is not yet. Under her breath she hums faintly pieces of the song, smooth even tones falling like spatters of rain as she picks out a place here or there to hum along as she watches performer and cane and song perform.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The crowd seems mesmerized by the song, many seeming to almost stare past Matthew. There is an almost haunting beauty to the song itself, and the street performer's voice only adds to the entrancing nature of the performance. "Fo~llow sweet children, I'll sho~w thee~ the way." He spins and the cane spins around him, his movements matching the flow of the song. "Through all the pain, and the so~rro~ws." Orbs appear out of sleeves, weaving over his arms and shoulders and only adding to Matthew's almost-etheral movements. "Weep not poor children, for li~fe i~s this wa~y." His violet eyes almost seem to focus on Rena's sitting form for just a moment in mid-motion. Did he see her? Hear her humming? "Mu~rdering beau~ty and pa~ssio~ns." Whether it was happenstance or not, he continues the dance with orbs and cane alike as if nothing had happened.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena rubs the side of her head and frowns slightly, looking over at the crowd although she finds it difficult to wrench her eyes away from the hypnotic movements of the performers. She grunts softly, the lyrics suddenly calling up..what she was trying so hard to forget and so the moment of trance is lifted. She moves to her feet and puts out a hand to steady herself as she stares out into the crowd. Her expression glowering slightly at the mesmerized faces. Her fingers trail across the wood as she walks around the side of the bench to move away into the town. At the last moment her fingers catch on the wood, anchoring her as surely as shackles before falling away. Slowly she turns around and leans her weight very lightly on the back of the bench. The Shivan's eyes return to the performer and then the orbs as her fingers flex once and then relax as her shoulders relax. She catches his eye and stares flatly back into them, eyes narrowing slightly. Relax, she scolds herself. She looks away, shoving the painful memories back into their box and lets herself be soothed by the music. Slowly her eyes unfocus and begin to drift back to the performer and after a few moments she begins to hum again.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Rena's movement to a more distant point is unnoticed by Matthew. She is not being kept here against her will. If she wishes to leave, she could do so... and yet she remains. "Hush now dear children, it must be~ this wa~y. To weary of life, and dece~ptio~ns." The orbs arc into the air as the cane anchors on the ground in front of him, the cat-eye gem glowing as his hands arc to the sides. "Rest now my children, for soo~n we~'ll awa~y." The orbs spin around his head like a planets around their sun. "Into the ca~lm, and the qui~et..." His singing almost trails off to silence as haunting echoes of accompaniment overtake his voice. In tune with the melody, the cane rises above his head and spins in perfect time, the orbs almost dancing around it. The crowd's eyes are drawn upwards to the cane and orbs as they fluidly weave around each other, up until the music quiets once more to match the beginning.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena snorts very quietly, muttering something in Shivan as she seems to snap out of her reverie. As the performer fluidly weaves song and sight, she can't help but be impressed (and much more so than the first time) but she can't shake a nagging feeling of disquiet. The cat eye gem and the spinning, dancing orbs. The soothing tenor. It was pretty.. but as shiny and useless a bauble as the crystal sphere in her pocket. What did she ever get by holding on to meaningless trinkets? Heartache at best and clouding frustration and anger at worst. It was a lack of cous, a lack of attunement that had cause so many problems before. She was standing around moping. Sitting around a sealed city because she had nowhere else to go and not allowed to do anything useful. Rena sighs and gives in, letting the memories roll over her mind like a fitful blizzard. She was draining valuable energy entrenching herself and snapping at herself. She let the hurt flail, and gnash, and then boil away as she watched the performer. She would wait until he was done, and give it back to him, and be done with it.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The cane settles in his hand and Matthew casts his gaze down at it in a moment of thoughtful wonder. As a result, when he sings once more, the tone is even softer--barely above the volume of the music itself. "Come little children," he steps with each piano note in a circle, the staff tapping on the ground in perfect time, "I'll ta~ke thee a~way. I~nto a la~nd of encha~ntme~nt." The orbs slowly spiral down around him as he stills, lifting the cane and almost experimentally twirling the cane in front of himself. "Come little children, the time's co~me to pla~y." The orbs settle onto the ground in a pyramid-like formation in the center of the circle he had created from his footprints. "Here in my ga~rden of sha~--" The orbs on the ground become opaque with swirling black shadow, "~AA~" the formation brightens into blinding light, "--do~ws..." Fast as shooting stars and in perfect time with the hauntingly delicate accompaniment, the orbs leap back into the air like bullets as Matthew almost seems to use his cane as a wand, directing where they fly. Swooping over the crowd as the voices surge the first time, then seperate and float back to him at the second surge while his hands move to each end of the cane to 'hold' it levitating in front of him. The moment the music ends, with that final tone, he brings his hands together to enfold cane and orbs together with no sign of either disappearing in the movement. And in the silence following the music, he draws his clasped hands to his chest and bows deeply to the crowd, who immediately clap and cheer as if they had never been under his proverbial (and perhaps literal) spell.

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena doesn't cheer but she does smile and clap appreciatively at the grand finale and the performance. When it seems like the man is completely finished, she approaches through the crowd. Rena inclines her head, making a gesture of respect to the performer. "A.. haunting performance, Matthew. I didn't know you were a singer as well. You are apparently a man of many talents." she takes the crystal sphere out of her pocket. "It's a pity. But.. I don't think this orb likes me as much as you thought. I think I should give it back to it's proper home."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The crowd disperses easily enough once the performance is over, some leaving behind a tip--a few quite generous, it seems. Matthew does not seem to gather up anything, just a wave of his hand and anything used in his performances disappears in poofs of various-colored smoke. Apparently his belongings and/or equiptment were conjured. As Rena approaches, Matthew rakes one hand through his platinum-blonde hair to try to get the strands back into place and gives her a warm smile. "Ah, Miss Rena. It has been some time." He bows to her. "I thank you deeply for your praise. I had feared for a moment that I had wounded you somehow." So it seems he had noticed her distress during the performance after all. His eyes shift to the crystal sphere, his smooth brow furrowing noticeably. He makes no motion to accept it, however, instead just returning his gaze up to her eyes. "May I ask why you would believe such a thing?"

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' "That power I do not think I can grant you, I wound only myself." Rena pauses for a moment and then continues. "It was a foolish moment. An old habit of mine, I guess to keep mementos. There is far too little left for me to remember things by, but it is a crutch. It's one that I'm going to have to start somewhere to break. It might as well be here." She extends the crystal to him. "To new beginnings, not old wounds."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew tilts his head to the side, his lavender eyes never leaving her face, but he simply listens in silence. When the orb is extended to him, however, he regards it with thoughtful ponderance. His hand slowly reaches out towards it... ...Only to gently close her fingers back around it to obscure it from view. He does not release her hand, though she could pull away at any time. "Whoever said that my gift to you is a crutch of times past, of which I held neither part nor knowledge? Why can the orb itself not be the sign of a new beginning?" He looks up to her, his gaze surprisingly piercing yet somehow calming at the same paradoxal time. "I know not your circumstances, Rena, nor how you came to wander the worlds. But it seems quite clear to me that you have already lost all you have known. Perhaps even under constant assault by reminders of the past." He levitates just a little bit off of the ground to even their heights somewhat, though she still stands taller than himself at the moment. "If you wish to continue wandering, 'tis your choice..." His chin tilts downwards, towards his chest, and his lavender eyes almost flicker in consideration. "...But... Perhaps I can offer you a new path instead?"

:'''[[Rena Laradyne]] has posed:''' Rena's bearing straightens and her smile becomes the same mocking but not exactly condescending thing that it was in her first meeting. She slowly raises an eyebrow at the levitation and reaches out a hand to put it on top of Matthew's. She looks down at the sphere obscured from sight, hair falling down in a cascade from her shoulder . "Thank you, Matthew. I know nothing about your own wanderings, so I will not besmirch them with scorn. I just do not know what it is that you can offer me that I can accept. If my wanderings continue, it is my feet that drives me, not anyone elses. But for now, I'll give you the courtesy of listening, as I have before."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Matthew smiles. It is not as warm as before, but neither is it cold nor mocking. Thoughtful, perhaps. Or something else entirely. "Then let us depart this place to a location more quiet. I shall show you what I have to offer, what I have left, and we shall speak further." He does not release her hand, as it seems to be a comfort to her, and lowers himself back to the ground. "'Tis the least I can do."

Information, Data, and Heart

2013-04-08T05:20:43Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/07 |Location=Northern Continent - Carwen |Synopsis=On a self-given fact-finding mission about Carwen, Emperor Mateus ends up getting stalke..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/07
|Location=Northern Continent - Carwen
|Synopsis=On a self-given fact-finding mission about Carwen, Emperor Mateus ends up getting stalked by CAPGRAS for his heart. What happens next turns out to be quite informative and perhaps beneficial for them both...
|Cast of Characters=CAPGRAS, Emperor Mateus
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus knows that there are lands from other worlds on the same continent as his homeland. He has simply not been afforded much time to explore beyond Guadosalam, at least until now. His trip here is twofold, and neither have any pomp or circumstance accompanying it. First, Mateus could use a port relatively close to Palamecia once the Dreadnaught is once again at full operation. Secondly, it would behoove him to know how matters work here and if it will require a true take-over in the future. No need to attack if diplomacy will work better. So, he is walking through the streets with two Palamecian soldiers walking a few steps behind his wake, the Emperor wearing what seems to be a business suit with his staff shrunk down to a walking cane and his hair combed down and pulled back to look less... striking. Not terribly out of place considering the likes of Balamb Garden and visitors from such places as Traverse Town, and this is a hub for airship activity. Most of the townsfolk don't even spare him or the two soldiers following him a second look.

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' Except for one small lady. She has been pacing the group for a while... Why? Who knows, but she has. She was but a small thing, with a bunny rabbit doll in her hands...but to the trained eye she was always watching. It is not unlike how a tiger might stalk it's prey. Odd, given who he was, and the appearance of this little girl. Perhaps she a pick pocket? There was no magical power, no excessive darkness...though a distinct lack of...SOMETHING that should be there. However, beyond that, the girl was normal...with a abnormal fascination on the Emperor. Once more, as they cross another path, she was there, eyes staring from the crowd. This time, she follows closer. Does the hunt draw to it's conclusion?

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus would usually ignore such stares, since usually they are indeed pickpockets waiting for an opening, but when a single individual keeps popping up in his peripheral vision and continues to shift closer each time they cross paths... Well, this little cat-and-mouse game will not do at all. Never mind the fact that his senses have already told him that there's something... /off/... about her. Something that you can almost tell just by looking in her eyes. Something missing? He cannot say for certain at a distance with just peripheral glimpses. Mateus motions for his guards to flank him on each side as they walk, thus allowing the girl to follow him directly instead of being partially shielded by his own soldiers, but does not call her out just yet. No, it isn't until Mateus turns into a cleared alleyway between buildings and progresses to about midway that he stops and turns around to face his living 'ghost'. He does not yet speak, but the shadows almost seem to roil under his feet for a moment. For the time being, he leans on his cane off to one side and simply waits to see what she will do. His expression lax almost to the point of boredom and his stance is sloppy, but his eyes are sharp and senses keen.

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' The little girl follows...but... Then the prey faces her directly. She was spotted? Perceptive, she considers, the Guards are with him, but they are considered vauge threats...more complications than actual trouble. Why? Because she was sure she could end them, but the problem was doing so quietly...and without attracting suspicion. The air between them is silent for a while...trying to calculate the best... The shadows... Then her form changes, instead of the little normal woman, a program stands before him. At least, what he THINKS is a program. The world in the machine, if he has heard of it, and no doubt seen some of the strange people from there around, though they are not frightfully common. She stands, but still...that something missing is there. There was...SOMETHING not there. She was just completely unnatural, it wasn't something you could quanify...it was something that could only be felt. "Impressive, this unit was not aware she was spotted until now." She says, metallically, the voice IS female, but devoid of warmth and empathy, not hateful...just cold. "It will do little, this unit would suggest not putting up resistance, sir. This unit only require a little, she will even allow your guards to live, assuming they do not do anything ill advised." She stands awaiting his response.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus is not familiar with Programs, perse, but he has seen LEXUS in passing. The concept of living digital beings is a difficult one to understand at times, but not entirely impossible. To meet one face-to-face, and one not nessisarily friendly at that, is an entirely new experience. His guards tense, hands resting on their weapons but not drawing yet, as the girl transforms into... something else entirely. The Emperor, however, steps forward just one step with his stance noticeably straightening as he peers as deep as he can into her eyes. Yes... there is definitely something /missing/ there. But something so terribly /familiar/... and her voice all-but-confirms it. A smile lifts his thin lips and he rests on his cane in front of him. "It would help if I understood what it is you want of me, lass." His voice, cool and fully in control, has a small measure of curiousity within it. "And whether you are aware of who I am, for that matter."

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' The program considers her prey...likely a noble, which was the point. She ponders for a moment, and then disreguards his words. "Inconsiquencial. This unit can find out once she has taken what is required." She takes a step forward. Her form shifts second time, becoming anything but human. A large metal circle appears on her back, her features distend, and become less human, and more maniquin like. She hovers now, points for legs digging into the ground as her arms extend out. The singular eye focuses on Mateus, "The thing this unit requires," it continues in the same femine voice, "Is inside you...inside all sapient things...with one exception." Her hands cross, as she then starts to hold them out, "Farther delay will cause singifigant trauma, you have recieved your last chance in solving this peacefully." Her hands point right at his chest. His heart.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus just smiles. "There is more than one way to solve matters peacefully, my dear." His heart. Of course... The more he hears, the more things snap into place. So utterly /familiar/ it is nearly scary. But there are no such things as coincidences, is there? He looks up at CAPGRAS' singular eye for a moment, then he levitates off of the ground to meet her height squarely, eye to eyes. His staff extends in a burst of shadowy fire to a staff capped with what would almost appear to be a cat's-eye gem. His guards step back, one almost bowing over themselves in a hasty retreat while the other simply kneels in place with his head bowed. As the Emperor's eyes narrow and his arms extend out towards the walls next to them, the shadows seem to deepen as pairs of golden eyes start to wink into existance. Glimmers of metal could almost be seen like shimmers upon obsidian, and the Emperor's chin lowers as his smile turns icy-cold. "Lass, I do not wish for a confrontation." Despite his voice almost purring in dark malicious certainty, there is clear honesty there as well. "There are many things that already intrigue me about you. But you cannot sample the heart of Emperor Mateus of Palamecia. I would advise you to reconsider your ultimatum before you do something quite rash, and perhaps I would offer you a heart you could consume entirely instead of merely sampling its light."

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' The woman stands, facing down the Emperor as he not only impressively rises to her height, but offers her a counter offer. She is not used to this, usually by now, they are whimpering for mercy...or running. No, he is standing infront of her, offering her the heart of someone else. Given the power flowing around her, her programming is considering the offer. She does not immediately respond, nor does she attack. It takes some time, but finally, she speaks again, "You would offer the heart of another, in lue of your own?" She asks, "Very well, this unit will accept your offer, as it seems this unit had underestimated your capasity to begin with." She knows when she is wrong at least, and starts reverting back to a more personable tone. The image flashes, and once more the young woman is floating there, slowly floating back to the ground. "This unit will also be farther open to conversation, as you expressed interest in this unit. However, understand that maintaining the form and current status of this unit is the primary directive, the secondary being the collection of heart-data." "This is agreeable, yes?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus lowers himself back to the ground with her, and the darkness disappears immediately upon his feet touching terra-firma as if it was never there to begin with. He almost casually tosses his staff into the air, where it floats off to the side just out of his reach without touching anything. "So you walk amongst the unknowing and take what light you need?" He chuckles softly. "It is agreeable, indeed. I do not wish to endanger you nor your goals." Certainly not endanger a possible ally, if matters align as closely as he has started to believe. He waves one hand, and his staff arcs behind himself to push one of his guards closer to them. CAPGRAS would note this would be the one who actually retreated, unlike his comrade who simply knelt. "I have no need for soldiers who would lose their bearing in the face of power, especially my own." He shifts back, placing the errant soldier between himself and CAPGRAS. "Evaluate him and take what you will if you find him suitable. If you find him wanting, I shall find you another."

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' CAPGRAS looks over the soldier pushed towards her. Her cold eyes look over him... "For a complete heart, all emotions must be examined...even those of the weak and frail. Those who would abandoned their king, your motives must be determined...This unit is...curious." she says, and reaches for him. Two small spikes extend from her arms, driving into the man's chest. It looks to be simple life drain at first...until it keeps going. Her eyes seem to be shining...as data lines run across the visible eye. she is litterally absorbing the man's essence...his memories...the things that make him a person, as she slowly starts to understand him. After a moment... She drops armor. Nothing but particles of light remain as they slowly fade away into nothing as well. Then the Soldier, reappears, but this time, CAPGRAS is missing. "This form will do, for a time." she says, in his voice, "I imagine it will attract suspicion if I were to follow in my normal form, so I will accompany you as this man." now using a personal pronoun....how interesting. "To answer your previous question, yes. It is my function, that of a TROJAN HORSE virus. Unlike normal Viri, I take from a host, and mimic as them, getting into places of importance, before spreading and destroying. However..." she indicates something, "I became alive. But still incomplete." She pauses, "Interesting, he feared death." She looks at the other solider, "Do you not also fear it? Or you?" she asks Mateus.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus watches with what could almost be mistaken as detatched interest as CAPGRAS assimilates his soldier, but his eyes glint coldly as he keenly watches and commits to memory every detail of what he sees. How so very intriguing. "Indeed. None shall notice anything different, and you could even find me in such a form in the future without arousing undue suspicion." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, evaluating CAPGRAS-Soldier. "So you find yourself with a body and mind of your own, but no heart? Thus why you seek the light of other hearts..." He motions for his soldier to rise, though clearly the soldier is free to move on his own. The soldier settles back to at-attention, focusing on the one who now wears the face of his comrade. Though, strangely, he does not give any indication of fear or disgust at the sight. "I live for my Emperor. One cannot serve their lord if they fear that which stands in his way, or place the importance of their life above his." He bows his helm. "All die with time. How one dies does not matter, so long as their duties are fufilled." Mateus nods slowly, quite satisfied with the honest reply. "To fear how one could die is a normal course of life, one conquered with enough training. To fear death itself is futile. It will come--whether through injury, illness, or old age." His staff returns to his fingertips, hovering just beyond his grasp, and he focuses solely on CAPGRAS-Soldier. "And you, then? Forgive any rudeness on my part, but can you feel emotion such as fear or joy?"

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' CAPGRAS soldier listens, the thought that emotion could override function was foreign to her...even with the countless forms she has taken. Sometimes it starts to happen, but the core logical part of her squashes it... The answers are analysed for a time, before she is asked for her input. "It is not rudeness, a question for a question is proper. In a sense I do, but only when I ware the face and heart of my victims. Only through them, that I feel. However, it is not mine, but theirs." She says, there is..a tone of something, malice? Annoyance? Jealously. "Exestential existance is the most important thing, without it, nothing else is meaningful. Are you saying that there is something beyond maintaining your form, your function?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus walks forwards to stand next to CAPGRAS-Soldier, his staff shrinking back down to a cane without fanfare. The note of /some/ sort of emotion in her voice upon her answer gets a mental notation, but he does not speak further on that point. "There is, and it seems to me you have already begun." He smiles, not the cold one earlier but a little warmer--only just, mind. "Forgive me if I am wrong, but a digital being such as yourself appears to be created with an established purpose. Humans do not have such a luxury. We stumble upon what we are best at, if we discover it at all. Many spend their whole lives in the pursuit of their reason for living. And when it is found, it is natural to push the limits and beyond." He inclines his head, planting his cane in front of himself and 'using' it for support. "To not only discover one's purpose, but to exceed at it--that is the key. To push the limits to attempt achieving the unachievable. Warriors of the sword seek to perfect their style. Mages seek to learn all kinds of magic and push themselves to discover the undiscovered. Most such people never do, but their lives are fufilled due to their experiences in the pursuit. And thus, their findings pass on to the next generation, who are similarly driven to achieve what their predecessors could not."

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' CAPGRAS takes a moment to consider this. "Hm. Very well." She says after a time, "I will note this in my memory banks for farther review." she says, seemingly a great deal reflective. She moves to take the old guard's position. "To reach a state of perfection. Interesting. As per an earlier statement, not all programs are created with a purpose in mind. I am unsure of the details, but some have evolved naturally, I am not such a program, however." She states, "I can not say I am fortinate or unfortinate, it is the only way I have known how to live, but I can see your point on the matter."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus turns to face his soldiers, still focused on CAPGRAS-Soldier in particular. "I see." He tilts his head faintly, looking briefly between the true soldier and CAPGRAS's facimile of one. There is very little that would tell them apart, except perhaps that niggling feeling of something... missing... from CAPGRAS. The same as before, really, only with a more familiar face. He turns as if to head out of the alley, but pauses before he even takes a step. "Forgive me, but I fear throughout our exchange I have not yet caught your name."

:'''[[CAPGRAS]] has posed:''' "I was designated CAPGRAS," she states simply, she falls in step, so when he doesn't move, she keeps her position. "I appear to have violated manors in that reguard, so forgive my transgression. Human customs are still new to me, especially give the nature of the begining of our interaction."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus sounds out the name quietly, as if getting the feel for the syllables. "CAPGRAS, hm...?" He chuckles, a soft 'fufufu' sound. "Due to extenuating circumstances, I believe the both of us could be forgiven for forgetting our manners." He spins his cane in one hand, then advances forward as if nothing had happened. And indeed, to those walking past on the street, nothing did happen. There was no cause for alarm at all.

Recovery of the Heart

2013-04-06T04:47:59Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/04 |Location=Archades - Upper |Synopsis=After the last surviving Judge is recovered from the desert and the behemoth officially lost thanks..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/04
|Location=Archades - Upper
|Synopsis=After the last surviving Judge is recovered from the desert and the behemoth officially lost thanks to well-intentioned adventurers, the Archadian force returns to their homeland to reconsider and reevaluate what to do now. Riku, however, has deeper worries...
|Cast of Characters=Riku, Zargabaath
|Tinyplot=Heart Of Power
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku sits in the gloom of a darkened apartment. He has drawn the shutters and clocked out as much light as possible coming from the window, from the door. He sits on the floor with multiple sheets of paper arranged around him wedged in the gaping mouths of books forming a small arc behind him. A single candle on a long stand is on the floor in front of his crossed legs. A tunnel of dark red wax streams down to the metallic base, cooling there as Riku continues to passively stare into the flame. Every inch of him ached. From scalp to toenails, every inch was lodging a complaint with the management. Once he had returned from the search party he had laid into the practice dummies until he had nearly collapsed in exhaustion, finding refuge in nightmare and unconsciousness until waking late in the evening of the next day. Riku looked down at the ivory token in his hand, turning it over and over in his fingers as he stared into the candle. It began to sicken, turning a poisonous bluish purple that threw ashen light across the walls and made the shadows twist and shudder around him. The teenager slowly brought a hand up, passing it through the flame which returned to a cheerful yellow and let life back into the silent reaches of the room. He flexed his fingers and let his hand slowly drop back onto his lap, expression thoughtful. Riku brought a knee up, studying the handwriting on another missive from the 9th bureau, who had been quietly in an uproar ever since Judge Magister Gabranths disappearance. It was funny.. for a bureau that was supposed to be the intelligence arm of the empire, they didnt act very smart or know very much. He traced the loops and scrawls of the signatures as something to do in the idle hours of the evening stretching out before him that didnt involve searching. He didnt want to even think about it right now. He would get around to thinking about it later. He fed the results into the candle flame one at a time, each mimicry burning up as floating away, glowing embers that went cold long before they reached the floor again. He had come here looking for a place to belong. Fought and flailed into a position he could claim but would have to struggle with and fight for. Watched how they moved, how they acted. What was said. What wasnt said. How nobody talked of Lower Archades. How everyone talked of House Solidor and the Judge Magisters and.. it had made sense at the time. It was a place to leave his mistakes behind. Hed only made room in his head for a place to rest, for a place to hide until he was strong enough to move on and somehow... somehow he had gotten sucked in so deep he couldnt find the surface anymore. He genuinely liked Archades for all of its gleaming metal and stone. Despite its sneering nobility and tangled complications, besides the whispers and the cutting looks he had been surrounded by good people. Honest people who had accepted him. Some, who had accepted everything he could throw at them. Some who had snickered behind his back because he wanted to be like those they respected. Riku smiles very slightly at that. There is a flicker of cold, unyielding rage behind the smile at the embarrassment, the searing anger still sluggishly spitting every so often in the cold ashes of his temper. But looking at it from another way, in a distant sort of way, it was funny. Just as the increasingly elaborate plans to hijack Judge Magister Zargabaath had been silly. He looked down and turned over and over the ivory token in his hand. He stared at it, wondering if he should have chosen the other path but.. he chose this one for the right reasons. He loops it around his neck and leaves it there, on top of the shirt. Riku looked down at the missives. He wondered what would happen to him when they eventually gave up the search and Judge Magister Zargabaath went back to his ship. Maybe he would.. just get lost in the shuffle. He was starting to learn that, to wrap his mind around that fact. In a big city.. or a big desert.. There are a million ways to disappear. Riku stared into the flame, somewhat startled to realize that it had melted down quite a bit in-between one blink and the next. He frowned at the candle, reaching out to snuff it as he pulled himself to his feet. His legs had gone to sleep and he stumbled about for a moment throwing his duster over his shoulders as he walked out of the apartment. He took out a paper from his pocket. It was a message that although he could train freely with any group, he had to choose one before he was officially complete with cadet training. Maybe.. he needed some advice as to what to do now. He needed an excuse to talk to someone anyway. To keep from slipping sideways and allowing days to pass in an eye blink and to never really know if where he went to sleep would be where he woke up. It could even be morning now. He could have stared in that dark room all night. He wasnt sure anymore. He needed something to anchor him, and if it was not to be the candle.. then he would bother someone else. Quietly, he makes a few inquiries as to where Judge Magister Zargabaath would be and then makes his way there without haste. He looks down at the missive, and then stuck it back in his pocket.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' To say that Judge Magister Zargabaath was shaken after the events that had transpired yesterday would be an understatement. The Dark Knight had left a deep impression even on the Judge of Reason, and it is certainly not an experience he would like to repeat ever again. But it will. That 'man', if he is human at all, knows his name. Knows his allegiance. It will only be a matter of time. They had lost the behemoth, but had found an Archadian Judge survivor instead. The Judge had basically collaborated what the initial victims had stated before, so there was no information available there. Further searches tracked the behemoth exactly where the Desert Eye claimed the teleportation had occurred, and in fact the measure of magickal energy left in the area indicating a huge teleportation spell was confirmed. So they have now returned to square one. Judge Magister Zargabaath had retired to his office some time ago, and it is to this office that Riku is directed. The first thing the boy would notice upon entering is the Judge of Reason's armor hanging on a rack designed to hold it. The second would be that Zargabaath is sitting on the ground, wearing middle-to-low-class Archadian clothing with no shirt on, exposing time-worn scars across his torso and shoulders. His legs are crossed, arms resting on his thighs and fingers intertwined over his solar-plexus. His back is straight, his shoulders relaxed, and his head held high--but his eyes are closed and his expression without emotion. There is no reaction to the presence of another. Tension is in the air originating from Zargabaath, yes, but there is nothing to indicate rejection nor even a feeling of 'why are you here'. It feels more like someone simply trying to decompress through sheer force of will without violently imploding or exploding.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku stands in the doorway for a few moments as he takes in the situation. He looks at the armor, then around the room and finally to the judge of reason sitting. He looks down the hallway for a moment, eyes clouding as he registers a moment of frustration and awkwardness. "Your honor?" is spoken in a whisper and almost perfunctory, What he should do is go. Refuse to disturb the tense aura of decompressing silence and return to his room. What he does instead is quietly close the door to the office. He does not step inside more than a step because he has not been invited and right now, painfully, he doesnt want to do something stupid. Well.. more than he already has, anyways. He should go and seek elsewhere. He should keep searching. Keep moving. After all. There was no telling when they were going to go up in smoke as well. Riku kneels down next to the door so that if anyone comes in, he will not be in the way. His muscles shriek to be forced into a sitting position again but he sits down with his back against the wall. The thoughts go around and around in his head and he just closes his eyes against them and waits to be questioned. Waits for the world to make sense again. He lets go, just a little, for just a few moments.. not exactly falling asleep but the aura of awareness leaving as though trickling away through a cracked gourd. He had to believe he was safe here, but they werent. Nobody was safe.. and he just needed to wait.. and be calm.. and not slip. Not slip over the other edge.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath's eyes open upon his title being invoked, though the light coming in from the window directly behind him has cast his face in shadow and thus hides it. It also hides his brow furrowing as he watches Riku basically sit down and very nearly curl up into a ball next to the door. No. No, this shall not do. Silently, with barely a rustle of cloth rubbing against itself, Zargabaath unfolds from his meditative position to stand on his feet. He pauses for a moment, mentally appraising the situation, then his jaw sets in contemplation. How easy it is to forget that a boy not yet on the edge of being a man is still a child yet, complete with childish fears--and perhaps justifiably so, all things considered. He made that mistake with Judge Ffamran years ago, and he will not repeat it now. As silent as a feline's velvet paws, the Judge of Reason approaches Riku without letting his shadow fall upon the boy and kneels beside him, blocking the door. He gently clasps Riku's shoulder with one hand in a firm, supportive grip as if anchoring a lifeline to a drifting boat. There are no questions, no demands. Just a low, but genuinely empathetic, rumble from the heart, "I am sorry, Riku."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku does not come back to himself for some time, lost in a curious fugue state that leaves his body conscious and breathing but utterly detached from the life going on around him. He speaks tonelessly, his eyes not recognizing Zargabaath as he tilts his head upwards. "Its not anyones fault. Monsters eat people. I should know this." He doesnt smile but there is a tic that denotes that he would at this point if he were truly awake. "And you do. Will warned me, you know. This is no life for children." there would be a note of riled scorn there, but again, there is only the place marker there made by this echo that walks and talks but whose heart has withdrawn almost completely. The faintest snort. "Pretty much everybody is that if your over three hundred...Im sorry, your honor. I am a little.. tired. Forgive my rambling." Riku mechanically brings out the missive. "..I dont think I can stand 9th right now, your honor. No insult meant to them. Ive just been... shuffled aside while they sort things out. So, I am hoping you will take me?" Riku has not looked at the Judge Magister or the supporting hand with the same intensity you would not focus on a hammer about to descend on a fragile vase. You know the shatter is coming, but you can't bear to watch. So his dull and deadened eyes look at the ceiling instead.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath's brow furrows ever deeper the longer he listens to Riku, the more he watches the lack of anything on the boy's expression. So when the missive is presented, the Judge of Reason does, indeed take it with his free hand but does not even look at it. Instead, he pulls Riku into a hug. A comforting embrace that wordlessly screams protection and safety and strength. There is no hammer here. Instead, the fragile vase has been gently placed onto an all-enveloping soft pillow. "Gabranth is not dead, Riku." Zargabaath's voice is calm. Warm. Steady. Strong. Full of honesty and belief in his own words, willing Riku to snap out of it and truly listen to him. There are no lies or half-truths here, no matter how hard one could search for them. "And I will not stop searching for him. To take to the skies is not to admit defeat, but to gain a new perspective." The missive crumples in his hand for a moment before it falls free to the ground. He doesn't need it. "Do not speak of yourself as if you are unwanted or a burden, because you are most certainly neither. I would be honored if you joined the 12th Fleet." He chuckles softly. "And I am currently neither on-duty nor in my armor, so my title is quite unnecessary. 'Zarg' would be sufficient for the moment, I think."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku is apparantly very easy to read by a Judge Magister. In both cases, he'd attempted to run away, to PUSH away, and only gotten this sort of response. His shields have never fully recovered since he laid everything bare to Gabranth and so they go down with the expected smash. Because there are hammers, and then there are hammers, even with pillows attached. A dangerous yellow gleam swims across his eyes as he stiffens in the embrace and his entire body tenses as if coiling to strike. Surely something that hurt so much had to be an attack, and he knew how to deal with an attack. The snarl rises in his throat and dies away in mid utterance as the darkness is simply burned away and Riku leans into the Judge Magister, head resting on their shoulder face buried in it as he snorts out an explosive bark of a chuckle. "Yeah..." his voice rasps thickly "..yeah. I know. I've been sleepwalking through one stupid idea after another for days." Riku snorts again and coughs, face dripping yet again and the embarrassment is even worse than the first time with no avenue of escape this time except teleporting away. He doesn't think he could muster up the focus, or if he did, end up several worlds away upside down over a cliff or something. "What.. do you people want?" he asks with wondering chagrin. It's a rhetorical question at best. "At least I can understand /Gabranth/ pushing my buttons. He's practically a mirror image." he laughs, although he cuts it off short when it becomes a sob. He raises his head just enough to thunk it against Zargabaath's shoulder again, the only available surface for which to express a prolonged and infinite amount of chagrin. "I'd like that.." he eventually admits to the last statement. "..as long as I can get back at those punks for laughing at me. They need to pay dearly." he makes another snorting laugh that tapers down into another groan, hysteria let out of his system like escaping steam.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath just lets Riku bury his face in his shoulder, ignoring how sopping wet the scarred skin gets very quickly. He does not tighten his embrace nor does he loosen it. The boy's tension is noted, as one would expect with an unexpected action, and though the scars on his face ache he does not flinch nor indicate anything at all about it. He does, however, smile as life returns to Riku's voice the more he speaks. There we go. "You have nothing to be embarassed about, Riku." Yes, the Judge of Reason is very perceptive, especially when chagrin practically drips from Riku's voice like tears from his face. "I am always available to talk to, to vent at, to simply be. Dynast-King knows you have needed this for some time, indeed." After all, Riku was not doing well in the desert the other day due to more reasons than simply heat stroke. He does not force Riku to lift his head to look at him, just being the literal if not simply figurative barrier to protect him from the world right now. "'Those punks'? Laughing at you?" He tries to not laugh, but a lightened tone is clear in his voice all the same. "May I ask what happened, exactly?"

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' "noo.. no comment, your honor." Riku chuckles and disengages before he melts, his head throbbing from the close proximity to light he has to focus to stop seeing. It was getting harder to NOT see these things, and that's just all sorts of bad in a city full of people. "I'm sorry. I.. " he snorts. "I /observe/ situations very closely, your honor. Sometimes, I don't know I'm doing it. I'm.. distracted." he snorts. " When those around you are likely to have short tempers and long reaches and streaks of cruelty, you learn to be quiet, and to listen, and to disguise your actions." he coughs. "Your.. your.. crewmembers are.. amused by this fact, sometimes." Riku leans up against the wall, one leg still pulled up to his chest. He puts a hand on the ivory token on his chest, grasping it loosely as he bangs his head lightly against the wall. "..ugh. Gods I'm tired. I haven't slept since.." he shakes his head. "..no. That's not right. I slept VERY well whenever I was there. She used that to gently /discourage/ me from straying too long."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Zargabaath releases the hug as Riku pulls back, leaning back himself to rest on his heels. Upon the explaination about his men and the 'laughing', he just smiles kindly. "That sounds similar to what I have done many times in the past, though admittedly not for the same reasons. Perhaps they are not laughing /at/ you, but are more amused at the similarities they happen to see /in/ you." He closes his eyes for a moment, taking just a brief moment to listen, to evaluate without judgement, to recenter himself. Riku would probably pick up a slight lessening of light back to more normal levels because of this, though Zargabaath would not understand it the same way. 'Her'? 'There'? He would ask, but his instincts tell him that is probably not wise. Riku would be more specific if he wanted to be. He takes a handkerchief from a back pocket and wordlessly offers it to Riku. "Is there anything I can arrange that would help you?" Though he may not understand Riku's situation fully, it's at least clear that wherever 'there' is, Riku does not want to go back.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku looks over at Zarg with a raised eyebrow of cheerful scorn. He doesn't even /dignify/ that with a response considering the events here. He raises a hand, grinding a palm into his face and wiping his eyes with quick strokes. The aura of darkness crackles in and out like radio static, rising and falling like the tides. "No. I mean.. not now. We've got to find Gabranth. After then..?" he shakes his head. "The man you met today is.." he grimaces. "like looking into an abyss. But there are still those out there.. who are much worse. Who I worked for when.." he sighs. "..when I thought I didn't have any other choice. I'll.." he snorts. "I'll tell this story when this is settled. I.. really only want to tell it the once." he very slowly starts to get onto his feet.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Zargabaath nods once and rises as well, using the handkerchief to wipe off his shoulder almost as an afterthought. No need to make the boy feel chagrined all over again if he can help it. "That would be putting it mildly... and others worse still?" His abdomen almost physically tightens as his stomach feels like it clenches to stone, the raw and fresh memory of that Dark Knight causing his eyes to narrow. "Truly, these are dangerous times." He holds his hands out to the sides slightly in a gesture indicating acceptance. "But you make a valid point. Such dark tales can wait until we find that ill-mannered Judge of Ambition." He rumbles deeply despite a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Making us worry, that brat."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku snorts. "And thrash him to an inch of his bloody life, to use some local words of choice." he straightens up, shaking his head as he has to steady himself on the wall to keep from falling over. He stares at the judge magister and then turns his head down and away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good.. night. I think. Or.. morning, Zarg." he coughs a bit on saying that as if he choked on it for a moment. He glares at the Judge of Reason as he leans against the wall in a silent 'Can I go now, please?'

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Zargabaath barks a laugh of his own at the 'colorful language'. "Indeed." He waves a hand carelessly at Riku's glare, understanding its baleful but ultimately benign intent. Or at least, so it seems. "No need to give me such a look. 'Tis hardly an official meeting tonight, after all, and I highly doubt you wish to sleep here." He smirks good naturedly. "Therefore. Good night, Riku."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku grumbles, but there is no heat or hidden teeth behind the cursing as he moves past the Judge of Reason and closes the door behind him. He lingers for a moment and thumps his head very gently on the door, eyes closed in the 'yep.. i am an /idiot/' pose that he's adopted so often since living here. He takes in a shaky breath, lets it out and draws a hand over his face. He orients hismelf quickly and moves quickly away down the corridor.

Search And Rescue

2013-04-04T18:03:04Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/03
|Location=Eastern Continent - Dalmascan Sands
|Synopsis=Judge Magister Zargabaath leads an Archadian search for the mystery behemoth and to find the personnel still missing-in-action. The results of this search are hardly what he could have ever imagined.
|Cast of Characters=Zeke, Riku, Zargabaath, Leon
|Tinyplot=Heart Of Power
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Archades has been scrambling over the past day. The unfortunate soldiers from the 9th Bureau involved in the incident have long been evacuated, but three remain unaccounted for: two Judges and Judge Magister Gabranth himself. Considering the state of survivors and dead alike, and especially considering the Dalmascan desert itself, the likelihood of finding them alive has grown very slim indeed. That hasn't stopped Judge Magister Zargabaath from trying. The Judge of Reason had taken custody of the investigation mere hours after the incident occurred, and has called in his own men from the 12th Fleet to assist. The search has proven fruitless from the skies, the propulsion from even the smallest of aircraft causing more issues than help, so everyone is on the ground with a Remora on standby in case the search proves to be fruitful. So far, however, there have only been partially wind-swept tracks heading westerly from the incident site with the occassional sign of blood in the sand or an Archadian Judge armor piece hung in cacti. But still Judge Magister Zargabaath marches on, though he does allow the soldiers under his command to rotate out in order to recover from the harsh environment.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke actually hadn't been here long. He'd wandered thorug ha portal investigating ot make sure it was safe and decided to get a drink where he ran into this oddball character that called himself Mickey that'd clued him in on a local monster situation. While he wasn't all that versed in land fighting, and i nfact he felt an innate sense of wrongness to this place, he couldn't sit idle. Sure he wasn't good at this sort of search and locate and whatnot but he was used to the logistics of leading men. So he's out here helping as he can with the search taking a less senior patch of work; cataloging and currating the equipment and it's distribution. Sure it wasn't glamerous but you couldn't do anything if you didn't know what you had or where it was.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku has his journal in hand, his desert attire dusty and worn with the passage of many hours. He goes over his notes for the sixth time, the desert sun beating down overhead and casting a long shadow as he bends over his work. He periodically looks up from what he is doing, listening and taking in everything that is going on around him. There are times in which he puts the journal down or puts it away in the pursuit of some other task, and right now he does so in order to rub his injured hand with his fingertips. There is a massive burn across the palm of his left hand that, although healed, has left a tender and livid splash mark across his hand as if something burning hot shattered in his grip. Riku has gone with the 12th Fleet and has followed the investigation from sky to ground and back. He has slept when ordered to, and returns at erratic intervals. He tries to disguise how little actual sleep he has gotten. He looks down at his hand for awhile and then picks up the journal again, tucking it under his arm as he goes in search of more healing salve. He finds Zeke and inquires after it, his expression tired and distant, as if the teenager were many miles away. "Could I get some salve please? Ive run out of my own stuff." He frowns and then adds. "..Zeke, right?" he looks at them distantly, as if trying to place them.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath is probably a good few hundred yards away from where the supply line has stopped for the time being, his silver-and-red platemail glinting under the sun even as his cape barely sweeps over the sand under his boots. Its highly unlikely that he has actually stopped for rest himself, as none of the Judges or soldiers under his command has actually seen him even sit down since he'd arrived. Certainly haven't seen him remove his helm, at the very least, and it's rare when he says anything beyond orders to readjust the search area. The fact he has not singled Riku out despite the clear signs that the boy isn't, in fact, resting is probably not an oversight. The soldiers change shifts, those searching out in the heat falling back for shade, rest, and water while a new group takes their place. The climate is definitely not condusive for extended exposure while in full armor. A few stop by Zeke's location, requesting some rations for their fellows, and none seem to mind a non-Archadian handling logistical affairs. Zeke is helping them out for whatever his reasons may be, and that is good enough given the circumstances. Everyone looks weary and worried indeed, though.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke consulted his own notes on where what was. After all armies ran on the little things and want of a nail and all. Soon Riku had his Salve and he adjusted the thick wool coat. Yes he still wore that great ruddy thing in spite of the stupid heat. On the one hand it protected him from the sun. On the other IT IS A WOOL COAT IN THE DESERT. Zeke seemed to suffer any discomfort with a quiet sort of dignety though. No complaints and only a little extra at the water intake. "Riku. Have you any idea what we're walking into?" He didn't sound apprehensive or fearful. It was a matter of fact question to him and something the others needed to know. "Without the colorful legends and other such nonsense to scare the men if you please." This while helping a soldier adjust something on their uniform.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku looks absent mindedly into the distance just past Zekes shoulder, face impassive and frozen in that expression for more than a few seconds before whatever animating force sluggishly pours back into his eyes and he focuses on Zeke. A dangerous yellow glint sparks across his eyes for a moment, made even more so by a completely impassive face but when the animation is complete he closes his eyes and smiles ruefully at Zeke. He opens one eye, eyebrow raising as yes.. that is in fact a wool coat. In the desert. And then the other eye opens and his smile grows a little more genuine. He gingerly twisted the lid from the burn salve and rubbed the concoction smelling sharply of bitterness and pungent spices into his palm with a faint hiss of suppressed discomfort. He wipes off his fingers on his pants before digging out the journal and looking at it for two seconds, an offhand glance only before opening it to a random page and turning it towards Zeke. He flips a few pages before finding the right one. The sketch there, drawn from another bestiary and limited sightings, is somewhat competent. "A behemoth is rare and powerful monster. Its usually found, when it is found at all.." at this his voice hitches for an instant before he continues. ".. in areas of high mist concentrations. Its big, and fast, and strong. I looked it up and its usually the sort of mark entire clans go after, not just single adventurers." Riku looks at Zeke, then past him. His eyes trail towards Zargabaath as he speaks. "But.. there are more questions than answers, right now. What it was doing here. Why it wasnt spotted in time. If someone unleashed it on the training grounds on purpose." Riku paused for a moment, sealing up the salve. "..we just have to wait. Well find.." and his voice trails off for a moment. "Well find answers in time."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The group below was searching for something. So many lives that walked around on the hot sands. So many clueless to what watched them from the rocky hills above. The dark armor almost like a shadow in the sun light. No light touching the black armor hidden by the dark mist that moved around the metal. That moved around, down, and gently playing across the rocky floor. Those red eyes staring at all those present as they continued to search for something. He had been standing there for who knows the length of time, perhaps not for very long. Yet there the Dark Knight was with his hands resting relaxed across on the top of the hilt of his Soul Blade. The very dark metal of the sword itself not even reflecting any light, with the tip gently resting in the rocks. The Dark Knight's red eyes slowly skim over to something in the shadows, before they return to look at all those below. Watching. Examining. Evaluating.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath feels a chill. Not the bodily kind of chill, of prespiration evaporating under an abrupt cool breeze. No, this is quite different--deep in his core, as if his very beating heart had been grasped by dead hands. He knows this feeling. One gauntleted hand rises to touch the ram-like plate over his face, recent scars throbbing in memory resonance, as his other hand tightens into a fist at his side. He can feel the stare even from down here, like a predator stalking likely prey yet undecided whether to pounce or not. Abruptly, his helm snaps up and he fully faces the direction from where he senses the stare's origin--ahead and to his right, approximately 100 meters away and a fair distance on top of a rocky outcropping laid bare above the sand. Unseen eyes meet distant red, and the Judge of Reason's hands settle onto his hips in a loose grasp. There is no tension nor intent, just a Judge Magister standing still with his attention directed in a new location. It takes a few minutes for the other soldiers to notice, and even when their gazes are drawn to the strange shadow in broad daylight, even they don't seem to know how to respond. "Ser who watches from on high." The Judge Magister's voice carries extremely well in the dry, still air--both towards the rocks and back to the supply point. Even his tone is neutral, indicating no emotion except simple logical observation. "Have you seen either behemoth or armored men? Or is your purpose here more dark than mere curiousity?"

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke frowned at the new shadow. It felt... off. "Nothing from my end." He instinctivly went about checking his guns, hissword. Nothing frantic just 'is everything there?' "Chance at parlay before hostilities?" He wasn't sure if diplomacy would work, but he always felt it best to try the easy way first.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku growls very faintly, the grating sound of it harsh in his throat. It is so faint that it seems Riku isnt aware of what hes doing because he is still smiling that rueful smile at Zeke which is apparently sincere. So the growl of fear and threat is not directed at him. He takes in a deep breath and thanks Zeke, lifting up the salve slightly and pocketing it. His eyes roam the endless sands with the aimless glance of the disinterested and fall out of focus, slowly orienting on the rocky hills for a few moments before sweeping across soldiers and Remora and the supply train. He does not face the darkness on the rocky hillside. In fact he pointedly looks around the supply train in an attempt to keep his focus in another direction. Pain and discomfort and the ashes of confusion and shock have kindled together into a searing low grade anger that he keeps very carefully contained by his distance. The cold, hungry feeling of the darkness jams a stick into those ember laden ashes, threatening to roar into sudden flames. "Can I have my journal back?" he asks expressionlessly, tonelessly, completely unconcerned as he pulls his face into some semblance of grim amusement. "And whoever they are, they better not get in the way." he sighs. "It is.. a very.. very big desert after all."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight does not move when he is addressed, he only continues to stand there like a silent stone statue. Yet there was a slow tilt of his helm to one side, now seeming to be staring directly at Zargabaath for a bit. As if looking for deeper then just the armor, but right into the man's very heart. His red eyes then shift over to Zeke, doing the same before they come to slowly gaze upon Riku. There was then another shift of a tilt to his head. Yet the silence remained, before those red eyes gazed back upon Zargabaath once more. His voice lacking nearly any emotion. It was calm and his words very precise. They echoed in the helm with a deep resonance. "If you seek an armored man. I have what you wish up here. Out cold yet still alive. His life grows shorter." There was then a pause, "..a shame perhaps." The Dark Knight then slides one hand off his other, before his hand takes the hilt of the blade. It soon glows blue, before it then seems to fade into dark mists, then soon those mists rejoin his armor. "His heart is strong. You are fortunate of that.. very fortunate." He then takes a few steps back, his hand palm up, before moving it over to the side to the shade of the rocks where along side him. It seem to be a rather open invitation.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The soldiers flinch noticeably at the Dark Knight's actions, more than a few reaching for their own weapons in response. Others growl, some wordlessly yet others with threats to his safety if he has endangered their fellow Archadian's. But all are clearly intimidated, though to what degree varies by the individual. "Enough." Though the Judge of Reason's voice is deep and calm, the sound of rolling thunder would have been hard-pressed to match the power behind the order. As it is, the soldiers immediately and almost instinctively relax and shift backwards a step, though their gazes are still distrustful. Judge Magister Zargabaath himself, however, slips his arms beneath his cape and pulls free both of his swords from their holsters on his back. He holds them out to the side, showing the weapons clearly to the Dark Knight, then turns them point-down and drives them deep into the sand at his sides. He then removes a leather pouch from under his chestplate and rests it at his feet before straightening and stepping forwards, his intent made clear. His voice does not change from the rumbling deep calm even as he advances forwards. "Two unarmed soldiers, one medic--with me. The rest of you, return to the Remorra and await further instruction. Under no circumstance shall any of you," he cants his head to the side, his gaze perhaps cast over his shoulder back towards Zeke and Riku both in particular, "approach nor advance beyond the supply point." Three soldiers run through the sand to join him at his sides as he walks towards the outcropping, and the four of them scale the rocks as quickly as possible yet without fearfully rushing. The rest of the soldiers fall back as ordered, all of them with expressions varying from fearful to angry.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke nodded once and remained with the other soldiers, at least for now. Chain of command. Orders." He looked rather calm in spite of everything. "Alright you swabs y'heard th'man.." Yet he edged closer to Riku. "C'mon lad. We give these lot some space enough t'feel like they can converse." Of course he didn't plan on fully retreating. AFter all he didn't like the idea of just leaving the man to the tender mercies of... whoever this bloke was. "We do exactly as the big man says." ANd yet he wasn't in too big a hurry no matter that he was following hte letter of the order.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku rocks back on his heels, tucking the journal away carefully. Every movement is slow and careful and precise. He smooths down his clothes, drawing in a choking lungful of heated air that sears his lungs and expels it in a coughing fit and a sigh. Why were they here? Why were they here if not to grind salt into already inflicted wounds? The words go around and around in his head, sparking flashes of anger and doubt as transitory as heat lightning. But it was a big universe. Not everything had to happen for a reason. Sometimes things just happened. Sometimes you were just told to stay put and sit on your hands and be good. Sometimes monsters just killed people. And there was nothing you could do about it. Not in front of all these people. Riku slowly put a hand to his head, kneading one temple as the flashes came closer and closer together. His empty expression slowly fills with anger as he glares at the soldiers, slowly closing his hand until the nails were biting into his skin and edging towards pain. Riku released his grip, rubbing his forehead of sweat in a gesture far too calculated to be casual. His shoulders relax, tense and then relax again as he lets out a breath very slowly. "Yeah.." he says in a tired voice, "..exactly as he says." Not precisely how he means, maybe. And the slowness would help. Riku moved slowly but steadily, keeping close to Zeke. "You seem to have a problem with portals." He notes with the echoes of something like humor. "..or at least a habit of being in all sorts of places. Oddly enough.. I can relate to that."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Those red eyes watching Zargabaath's actions, before they shifted over to Riku. He seem to stare at Riku for a long while. The dark mist around him shifting slightly, like a predator who knew another predator. Those red eyes soon looked upon Zeke as well for a moment. Studying them for just a bit of time. Then the Dark Knight settles his gaze on Zargabaath as he and his men start to move up the rocky hill side. The Dark Knight then walks over to the shadows, before raising up his hand. The dark mist around him slips into the darkness, seeming to unveil the location of the Judge. Though why he was hiding the Judge is another matter entirely. He then seems to step away. Where he steps, darkness flows across the rocks, yet dissipates as quickly as it touches it. "As for your other, I fear only an arm remains. Dried blood states it is long gone." The Dark Knight then stands there, watching what they all do now. "Though tell me sir, as I protected your ally from the sun, what is the name of the boy with the white hair?" Then there was a pause, before his head tilt to one side, "..and yours."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath is the first to reach the summit and notably stands between the Dark Knight and his three soldiers as they climb all the way up themselves. He does not say a word, only needing to aim a hand towards the fallen Archadian Judge and they move immediately to his aid without hesitation, to their credit. The Judge of Reason stands tall, his stance neutral and unthreatening with his arms at his sides without a hint of tension. But the implied gaze behind the helm... well, to say it is 'piercing' would likely be an understatement. The moving darkness in defiance of the sun's rays gets particular note, as does the Dark Knight's appearance. There is something far, far deeper at work here. Just being in the man's vicinity is nearly enough to turn his stomach to stone, to say the least. Judge Magister Zargabaath's helm lowers just a tad, indicating acknowledgement of the Dark Knight's inquiry. "One Archadian life for one Archadian name--my own. I am Judge Magister Zargabaath, commander of the 12th Imperial Fleet." The fact the Dark Knight is interested in the youth back by the Remorra gets no reaction, but is noted accordingly. "I would thank you for your kindness in aiding us, Ser, but I suspect t'was neither kindness nor intent to aid that brought you here." His own helm cants faintly to one side. "Or am I wrong?"

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke just kinda hung around directing traffic. Way he saw it most of these people would get hurt or worse if things went bad. Plus it was his job t osee to supplies and people were 'supplies'... no wait they were personnel, but they carried supplies! He didn't make any outwardly hostile or provoking moves. He just kept eyes out for the scenery and watched the army go about it's business. There was a little bit of movement to follow on his part but it was reluctaint, halting, almost as if he wanted to be at the rear of the line on the 'repositioning of avalible forces' or whatever fancy word was used instead of 'retreat.' Meh. He drank deeply from his water skin. "Blasted sun. Cully Foolish of me t'be out hear. S'not natural t'be this far from open sea"

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku holds onto his anger and his patience by an increasingly gossamer thread. He takes out his journal and goes to talk with some of the imperial soldiers near the Remora. He asks them about anything that they may have found since some of them are from a recently returned search party. He inquires about anything strange in the area like any other sightings of unusual monsters or unusual activity in the surrounding desert land. His voice occasionally starts to quaver but whoever he is talking to is delivered such a burning stare as to scour the memory or at the very least dare them silently to notice or say anything about it. He updates his notes, gathers the information and does his best to listen as well as talk. He does his very best to ignore the knifing pain of the darkness on the hill sawing at the last fraying edges of his control. He eventually returns to Zeke. "I.. yeah.. I remember something about a ship now." He sighs. "Must be nice, out on the open ocean." His eyes cloud over and become distant for a moment before clearing. "..at one point, I would have thought it the peak of adventure .." he snorts very faintly. "..adventure. Right."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight only slightly cants his head a bit. It was not the answer he was hoping for, but it was an answer he would get it would seem. "Protective of your men." The Dark Knight states. "Your heart is one of light. You care deeply for them. Perhaps, even risk your life for them?" The dark mist around the Dark Knight swirls for a moment as the armored figure moves. Each step in the right step with the other. Very methodical about how he moves. Those red eyes piercing right into the eye slights of the Judge of Reason's own. Piercing right in deep. "Man of honor. Man of Light. I shall remember this, Judge Magister Zargabaath." The armored figure comes to a halt in his pacing before he inclines his head slightly, his hands kept by his side. "We are only here in passing and perhaps in hopes to find a decent place to eat if we require a meal." The Dark Knight seems to say this in all calmness. No hint of mean attention, sarcasm, or even rudeness. His red eyes gaze over the the judge being treated too. Those red eyes staring for a moment, before they shift back to Zargabaath, looking down slightly at the tad shorter man. There was then a long silence, with no words spoken. Not even the sound of breathing from the Dark Knight.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The soldiers around the Remorra give what information they can to Riku, most welcoming the distraction. Some do give Riku a concerned look, but the withering glare they get in return do indeed keep them from voicing such concerns. One soldier nearby Zeke and Riku glances up from where he is idily tending to his weapon. "A ship on the sea?" He flips the faceplate and visor up to reveal his face, slicked from sweat. "What is it like?" A few others nearby cant helms or pause conversations to listen as well, similarly curious. Meanwhile, on the ridge, Judge Magister Zargabaath gives absolutely no outward indication of his thoughts as he continues to watch the Dark Knight. He does not even speak to either confirm nor deny the Dark Knight's observations, knowing that actions speak loudly enough. It is an odd thing, however, when the Dark Knight levels him with a piercing stare of his own. Such red eyes... one so dark should have gold, should they not? The way he moves, like a mechanical clockwork in perfect timing, is unnerving to see coming from what is most likely a human before him. But still the Judge of Reason remains stoic. "As shall I remember you, Ser Knight of Darkness," he acknowledges in kind. His mind almost immediately keys on the 'we' in the Dark Knight's statement. This... could turn interesting. "I see. Then I shant keep you longer than you see nessisary." Without averting his gaze, he points to the group of Archadian soldiers with two fingers, then bends the knuckles to point towards the ground. Immediately, the medic finishes patching up what he can while the soldiers lift and carefully move the wounded Judge back down the rocky outcropping. "Whatever your reason may be, you have my thanks for your assistance." He lowers his arm, his helm only slightly tilted upwards to continue meeting the gaze of the taller man.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' "I'm not one to just sit idle man." Zeke's words were soft. "The seas be hard and cruel at times, but they also do be fair minded. You go out. You take your lumps no matter what station. I dunna like battle an have no love of fighting for some arbitrary 'God said so'." He offered Riku a spare water skin he kept on hand. After all he wasn't used to the climate so he had been provided for. Granted he had been joked at for being an outlander but no skin off his back. "Righting wrongs, tilting at windmills." Feh. "Give me a ship, a crew, and tell me there's new land yonderway and a hcance to be th'first t'make contact with a native people that don't yet know how badly the british or spanish or whomever will bloody well ruin their lives in name of God and Country... and Greed. Mustnt forget base Greed no matter what windowdressing used." What? He's british. He's allowed to insult his own people. "I don't wanna own the world. I just wanna SEE it. That's enough for any man. To see the expanse of God's creation and experiance it." Yet in spite of his words Zeke Just. Kept. Popping. Up and sticking his nose, and sword, between the boogyman and whatever it wanted to eat. What of Riku though? What had caused a boy barely old enough t'be out on deck, to have such a cynical view of the world(s)? "We get out of this I wanna have a sitdown with ye lad. Try seeing what troubles yer mixed up in see if there's anythin within reason I can do t'help."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' 'As long as there is not a hug in the offer' is the thought that gets Riku to actually chuckle slightly. He warms to the man slightly as he takes any excuse to focus his searing attention on anything other than the fuse in his head that has burnt down to the last threadbare strands. He doesn't want to be there when the explosion comes, but he doesn't really have much of a choice now does he? Riku throws another glance at the hillside and the Judge Magister, and notes with a sliver of relief that they've gotten the wounded Judge on his feet and the distant figures were going to descend the rocks soon if nothing else went wrong. Riku returned his gaze to Zeke. He has to wade through that accent to make any sense of the words, but eventually he speaks up again. "Thats.. that's a really long story.." he snorts faintly. "I told it to somebody once and.. that story didn't end well." he shakes his head, banishing the topic. "Tell us a story about the sea, though." he smiles, but the expression in strained and very forced. "Not many here have seen it as maybe you have.

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight watches Zargabaath's gestures. How he moves, how he speaks. All of it being examined piece by piece. Bit by bit. His attention fully becoming focused on the Judge Magister before him and less now on those below. Including those leaving. "You are welcome, Judge Magister Zargabaath. Yet I am sure you will scorn that thanks in time." Yet his attention is quickly drawn off as two armored knights come up the other side of the rocky terrain. There armor just as black and the polishing like that of a mirror finish. There eyes just as red as the very Dark Knight before the Judge. Yet they miss the dark mist that the Dark Knight projects from his. As the Knights approach they suddenly come to a halt as the Dark Knight turns to face them. His red gaze meeting their own. It was a long stare, the Dark Knight almost narrowing his eyes as the dark mist only creeps out a bit further around his feet. One of the Knights clasps his hand into a fist, before striking the fist against his armor plating and then bowing. "Sir. All is ready. Forgive us for the interruption." He stays bowed for a bit longer, before he rises back up, then the two stand there for a moment before they both look at Zargabaath. The Dark Knight gives only a soft nod. "Understood. Return." They both speak at the same time. "As you command." before they turn about face and start to make there way back down. The Dark Knight then turns to look at Zargabaath once more. "You answered my question. I think I will return the favor. Ask one of your own."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' As the trio of 12th Fleet soldiers help the Judge down the rocks, a few soldiers gather at the very edge of the supply point. Bound by their commander's order, they only stay put and watch intently. Others, however, shift a little closer to Riku and Zeke, curious as to the concept of airships in water--or so they would equate it. It is a welcome tension-breaker, and not all of them can assist with the situation. Fortunately for all involved, Archadian and otherwise, none are able to see what happens on the ridge itself, as the Judge of Reason is blocking what little could otherwise be seen. Judge Magister Zargabaath's helm turns slightly to level his hidden stare at two knights approaching. He is silent throughout the exchange, keeping his stance completely neutral, but analyzing everything. Or what little he is able to glean from it. It does, at least, confirm the Dark Knight's comment about 'we'. Only when the two knights depart does the Judge of Reason refocus solely on the Dark Knight. He does not waste time, word, or breath--instead, he gets right to the point. "One as dark as you should have gold eyes. Yet you and those you command have red eyes. Why?"

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke could see the stress and pai netched into Riku's body. No matter how calm the face thre's always a little something and Zeke has seen enough people holding on for the sake of presentability to recognize at least that the emotional water was deep if not how deep or troubled. Still. He started launching into the story of when he ended up accidentilly catching a mermaid in a fishing net. Simple story. His ship was low on food and weeks from port so they had to fish for provisions. Well and good. Cast nets out. Sail a ways, pull up fish if the school you've been chasing doens't scatter. Trouble is something else was in that school. Something that was part man. Part... Other. "Now then some say merfolk are merely animals that have been made to look just human enough to lure men in to devour." Zeke's tone was lecturing now. "Hogwash and to the bilge with that. They're people like any other merely adapted to their homes. Now then going with the stories that they be vengful and attack ships. That I can believe since after all ye end up having people, strangers that don't bother even pretendng you exist, hunting your homes clean, thrashing about and making all maneer of meyhem. In short being more like raiders than traders and allies." Water sip. "I've had the pleasure of meeting one that's managed the trick of walking on land and so have learned that at least that one is curious of our owrld and customs an hope to take that home to clear misunderstandings." Nevermind he was talking about Ariel. He wouldn't name her as she had asked for his confidence on the matter. Emotionally? The talk of sea and routine was actually calming. It was familiar to him after all so why not. Then... Mermaids. Something there. Curiosity. Hope. Joy.... Affection? Whoever this embassary was he had close ties to them, or at lest he wanted such ties. "Things nobody believes possible. Nobody really seems to know how much we don't know really. S'why I love the sea. Family has been on the ocean since my grandfather's time. It is as familiar to us as surviving out here to you.." Then a small storm in his head, a knot of darkness and pain. "Then I found them in trouble.... " Joy. Hope Pride all shining bright, overwhelming and driving away the blackness. "But when i put out the call. I didn't go in alone. When we accidentilly woke a demon even those dangerous selfish pirates of the harbor we were at aided us in beating it back and save those that could ve saved. I know not what caused it to wake. I just know it woke. Tried taking me. Then got punched in the face by people that didn't want ot see me fall. I owe them."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku starts to realize how close he is to the edge because he finds he's been edging slowly closer to Zeke while he talks without knowing he was doing it. The emotions are going off in his head like flashes of brilliant light in a darkened cave. He looks down at his burnt hand and there is a grateful relief that flickers across his face because he.. wants.. but doesn't really need to have. It's an strange feeling, and teetering on that edge with darkness pounding like a headache from the region of the hillside makes everything dull and distorted and coming from far away. And he follows the threads of the story down and down, and when the call went out, he didn't go in alone. Demons. Taking. Demons always wanted to take things that weren't theirs to take. He tried to focus but he was slipping sideways and only holding onto the story to keep him stable. About place far away from here, and adventures out on a wide ocean. Riku looks at Zeke, sight blearring back and forth between smears of light and color and he brings up a hand to cover his eyes, turning away from Zeke for a moment. He covers this up by also taking a seat nearby with an almost boneless weariness."Yeah." he laughs, and the sound is slightly crazed but also highly bemused. "..a friend taught me never to underestimate a good punch to the face. So.." he asks, his voice deceptively calm. "What happened to the girl in the net?"

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The armored knight cants his head at Zargabaath's question. It caused him a long moment of silence before the words he speaks are calm even as his stance remains so. No emotion being shown or even the slight bit of concern. It seem to the Dark Knight knew he was perhaps the big dog here in this standing with the Judge Magister. "Our eyes are red because we were created with such. It is the mark of our creator." The Dark Knight says simply enough before he starts to turn away from Zargabaath. "Those of us who loose our color are lost and shortly destroyed."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The men who are listening to Zeke's story are enraptured by tales of mermaids and the imagery that Zeke invokes. One of the soliders walks over to Riku and rests a hand on the boy's shoulder--barely touching, but concerned and supportive all the same. The soldiers reach the sand at the base of the rocky outcropping and begin the trek back to the Remorra. Meanwhile, above them, Judge Magister Zargabaath inclines his helm, though only slightly. "I see." And that is all he says in reply as the Dark Knight turns away. No farewell, no further questions, no indication of thought. He is the living wall between the Dark Knight and the Judge Magister's own men. 'Risk your life for them', indeed.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke looked at Riku with moere than a bit of concern. "Oi... you alright man?" Then his entire focus shifted. Worry shot thorugh with more than a little panic. Heatstroke he knew but would it be diffrent here? Would the desert take more than the open ocean? "Medic!" Off one of his water skins went and he emptied it over the boy's head and shoulders. Then since he was apparently closest he tried to get Riku to take a sip from anothr waterskin. "Slow drinks lad. Slow drinks." And then he was pulling his coat off and folding it before attempting to get Rikku to lay back. He stood between the sun and the boy. "easy there. Easy it'll be alright." Soft words. Confident. Even his emotions wer calm, focused. Sure he didn't know the desert but he was with people that were and so he only had to worry for a short while.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku nods sluggishly and spits out water, looking alarmed and then angry and then very chagrined. When he's sure that he isn't going to alarm anyone, he runs a hand through his hair and laughs tiredly. "Thanks, Zeke.." he makes a motorboat noise as he sighs, letting out a breath as the water does allow him a moments reprieve from the heat if nothing else. He takes the water skin gratefully. Sips a little bit, tries not to literally sway in place and steadies himself with a hand. "I'm from an ocean world myself." he says softly. "..I don't handle some things very well." he smiles with chagrin as he eventually hands the waterskin back.

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The dark armored knight continues to turn away from Zargabaath. His steps precise, in proper step from one another as he walks. It was almost rhythmatic. His cape never even moving any as he walked. Never swaying. The stance almost perfect. Yet as he gets a few feet away from the Judge Magister, the darkness around him starts to swarm him even more. The dark mist becoming as thick as ink black, before suddenly it dispersed in a burst of black smoke and the Dark Knight was gone.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath remains standing atop the ridge for a few minutes longer after the Dark Knight disappears in black smoke--in Darkness itself. Then, purposefully, he makes an abrupt about-face to regard the Remorra and the progress of the rescue team. Good... He lifts one arm and makes a series of arm-motions that are clearly signals, and the soldiers already standing by and waiting lunge forwards as one to assist the rescue team. Zargabaath himself then begins to make his way down the rocky outcropping, though a careful eye would note his movements are... jerky. Too controlled. His men don't see it, far too worried for their comrades and Riku alike. A medic quickly runs over upon Zeke's call and starts checking on Riku whether or not the Judge Cadet wants to deal with it. Heat exhaustion bordering on a heat stroke is taken very seriously in a desert environment no matter what world you're from.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke nodded slow but stayed between Riku and the harsh sun. "aye. Not that great with this much land around." There was an attempt at humor or at least a lightness to Zeke's words. "As for the girl," He picked up on the story he never finished. "nded up losing the catch, but between me and Jon she got freed and our nets ruined. Managed to pole fish enough t'make it back t'port with. Not sure if I'll see that one again. Hope she's figured to be a little more aware. Shame really. They live in the waters my craft and others run but there's been no organized attempts to talk. Find common ground. Mayhap open for trade and flow of material and information." He looked over to the army at large and frowned before helping Riku up to a seating position so he could get his coat back. A quick shake late and he stood, watching. Also it was readily apparent now he was wearing a bundle of guns tied to differing lines looped 'round his neck. Seven pistols and possibly more in addition to the two at his hip. Gee. He doens't believe in going in light doesn't he? "Still. Even with misunderstandings and history betwix their culture and ours." Hope. Hope and light. "There is one that I hope to keep seeing. She's proven such a facinating person. Wonderful. Adventurous. Kind...." Sigh. "SHe's probably got someone back home an it be foolish of me t'act so but I canna no more help it than I can turn the tides." He looked up and frowned. "Think the fun's not happening man. Best we get out of here an' save ourselfs risk of further sunstroke ya? Saw this nice little place in town with probably the best sandwiches for miles." Beat. Sudden realizatio nthsi was the ONLY large settlement for miles. "OK fine fine it's somewhere that looked good this morning and didn't have a bartender cawwing at anyone for ordering nonalchoholic."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku eventually convinces the medic that he's fit enough to stand, even though he's still dripping from the well intentioned dousing. He smiles at Zeke. "Hold that thought." he murmurs something very quietly for awhile, not saying anything audible, and then starts to walk very calmly and precisely towards the Judge Magister. He salutes, and then takes out his journal when he reaches the side of the Judge Magister. "Instructions, your honor?" he asks this as if he had been called over and was not actually concerned about the Magister at all. He stands straight in front of them, the jerkiness hidden as the Judge of Reason continues to advance. "Anything I need to write down?" No. Nothing wrong here at all. Move along. Move along.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The further Judge Magister Zargabaath walks from the outcropping, the more natural his gait becomes even if it still seems forced. Riku's appearance helps mask it entirely, though the boy would probably notice a faint tremor in his gauntleted hands that not even he can hide. He is definitely holding himself in check, though whether he is on the verge of lashing out or crumbling is not clear. When he speaks, his voice is even but not quite that familiar calm, strangled emotion roiling just under the surface. "The behemoth is long gone, but we may still have a trail. One Judge recovered alive but heavily wounded. Second Judge confirmed... killed." He pauses at his swords, yanking them out of the sand in a spray of desert dust that indicates far more force than nessisary. "Judge Magister Gabranth..." He sheathes the swords under his cape and kneels on one knee, reaching for the leather pouch but not quite picking it up yet. He just pauses there. "...Unconfirmed. Still missing."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku closes his eyes as a spike of.. something molten hot or as fierce as a star lances through his head, lancing his shaky control. His fingers clench the surface of the journal but he takes his cues from the judge magister. He keeps spine absolutely straight, eyes locked on the journal as he collaborates his notes and shares what he got from the search party. "Understood, your honor." he does not ask what is burning into his head very slowly like a brand. He just swallows it, burning all the way down as he remains calm. He was probably going to pay for his enforced calm later... but that was later. And he could push it off.. just until then.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath emits a long, slow exhale before picking up the pouch and tucking it back under his chestplate. "There is still hope." He slowly rises, his weight uneven for a moment before he fully straightens, and he rests a hand on Riku's shoulder. "There is always hope." One of the soldiers sprints over to them from within the Remorra, holding a paper in his hands. "Your Honor! The behemoth!" The Judge of Reason snaps out his free hand to take the paper from the soldier, scanning it quickly before he freezes. Slowly, the arm holding the paper lowers until it hangs limply at his side. "Clearly, Faram means to toy with me," he rumbles semi-ominously, oddly sounding like he's on the verge of laughing despite it. In his hand is a transcribed copy of the Desert Eye News, specifically its headline: 'Behemoth Gone?? But Where To Now?!'

Search And Rescue

2013-04-04T18:01:14Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/04/03 |Location=Eastern Continent - Dalmascan Sands |Synopsis=Judge Magister Zargabaath leads an Archadian search for the mystery behemoth and..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/04/03
|Location=Eastern Continent - Dalmascan Sands
|Synopsis=Judge Magister Zargabaath leads an Archadian search for the mystery behemoth and to find the personnel still missing-in-action. The results of this search are hardly what he could have ever imagined.
|Cast of Characters=Zeke, Riku, Zargabaath, Leon
|Tinyplot=Heart of Power
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Archades has been scrambling over the past day. The unfortunate soldiers from the 9th Bureau involved in the incident have long been evacuated, but three remain unaccounted for: two Judges and Judge Magister Gabranth himself. Considering the state of survivors and dead alike, and especially considering the Dalmascan desert itself, the likelihood of finding them alive has grown very slim indeed. That hasn't stopped Judge Magister Zargabaath from trying. The Judge of Reason had taken custody of the investigation mere hours after the incident occurred, and has called in his own men from the 12th Fleet to assist. The search has proven fruitless from the skies, the propulsion from even the smallest of aircraft causing more issues than help, so everyone is on the ground with a Remora on standby in case the search proves to be fruitful. So far, however, there have only been partially wind-swept tracks heading westerly from the incident site with the occassional sign of blood in the sand or an Archadian Judge armor piece hung in cacti. But still Judge Magister Zargabaath marches on, though he does allow the soldiers under his command to rotate out in order to recover from the harsh environment.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke actually hadn't been here long. He'd wandered thorug ha portal investigating ot make sure it was safe and decided to get a drink where he ran into this oddball character that called himself Mickey that'd clued him in on a local monster situation. While he wasn't all that versed in land fighting, and i nfact he felt an innate sense of wrongness to this place, he couldn't sit idle. Sure he wasn't good at this sort of search and locate and whatnot but he was used to the logistics of leading men. So he's out here helping as he can with the search taking a less senior patch of work; cataloging and currating the equipment and it's distribution. Sure it wasn't glamerous but you couldn't do anything if you didn't know what you had or where it was.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku has his journal in hand, his desert attire dusty and worn with the passage of many hours. He goes over his notes for the sixth time, the desert sun beating down overhead and casting a long shadow as he bends over his work. He periodically looks up from what he is doing, listening and taking in everything that is going on around him. There are times in which he puts the journal down or puts it away in the pursuit of some other task, and right now he does so in order to rub his injured hand with his fingertips. There is a massive burn across the palm of his left hand that, although healed, has left a tender and livid splash mark across his hand as if something burning hot shattered in his grip. Riku has gone with the 12th Fleet and has followed the investigation from sky to ground and back. He has slept when ordered to, and returns at erratic intervals. He tries to disguise how little actual sleep he has gotten. He looks down at his hand for awhile and then picks up the journal again, tucking it under his arm as he goes in search of more healing salve. He finds Zeke and inquires after it, his expression tired and distant, as if the teenager were many miles away. "Could I get some salve please? Ive run out of my own stuff." He frowns and then adds. "..Zeke, right?" he looks at them distantly, as if trying to place them.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath is probably a good few hundred yards away from where the supply line has stopped for the time being, his silver-and-red platemail glinting under the sun even as his cape barely sweeps over the sand under his boots. Its highly unlikely that he has actually stopped for rest himself, as none of the Judges or soldiers under his command has actually seen him even sit down since he'd arrived. Certainly haven't seen him remove his helm, at the very least, and it's rare when he says anything beyond orders to readjust the search area. The fact he has not singled Riku out despite the clear signs that the boy isn't, in fact, resting is probably not an oversight. The soldiers change shifts, those searching out in the heat falling back for shade, rest, and water while a new group takes their place. The climate is definitely not condusive for extended exposure while in full armor. A few stop by Zeke's location, requesting some rations for their fellows, and none seem to mind a non-Archadian handling logistical affairs. Zeke is helping them out for whatever his reasons may be, and that is good enough given the circumstances. Everyone looks weary and worried indeed, though.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke consulted his own notes on where what was. After all armies ran on the little things and want of a nail and all. Soon Riku had his Salve and he adjusted the thick wool coat. Yes he still wore that great ruddy thing in spite of the stupid heat. On the one hand it protected him from the sun. On the other IT IS A WOOL COAT IN THE DESERT. Zeke seemed to suffer any discomfort with a quiet sort of dignety though. No complaints and only a little extra at the water intake. "Riku. Have you any idea what we're walking into?" He didn't sound apprehensive or fearful. It was a matter of fact question to him and something the others needed to know. "Without the colorful legends and other such nonsense to scare the men if you please." This while helping a soldier adjust something on their uniform.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku looks absent mindedly into the distance just past Zekes shoulder, face impassive and frozen in that expression for more than a few seconds before whatever animating force sluggishly pours back into his eyes and he focuses on Zeke. A dangerous yellow glint sparks across his eyes for a moment, made even more so by a completely impassive face but when the animation is complete he closes his eyes and smiles ruefully at Zeke. He opens one eye, eyebrow raising as yes.. that is in fact a wool coat. In the desert. And then the other eye opens and his smile grows a little more genuine. He gingerly twisted the lid from the burn salve and rubbed the concoction smelling sharply of bitterness and pungent spices into his palm with a faint hiss of suppressed discomfort. He wipes off his fingers on his pants before digging out the journal and looking at it for two seconds, an offhand glance only before opening it to a random page and turning it towards Zeke. He flips a few pages before finding the right one. The sketch there, drawn from another bestiary and limited sightings, is somewhat competent. "A behemoth is rare and powerful monster. Its usually found, when it is found at all.." at this his voice hitches for an instant before he continues. ".. in areas of high mist concentrations. Its big, and fast, and strong. I looked it up and its usually the sort of mark entire clans go after, not just single adventurers." Riku looks at Zeke, then past him. His eyes trail towards Zargabaath as he speaks. "But.. there are more questions than answers, right now. What it was doing here. Why it wasnt spotted in time. If someone unleashed it on the training grounds on purpose." Riku paused for a moment, sealing up the salve. "..we just have to wait. Well find.." and his voice trails off for a moment. "Well find answers in time."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The group below was searching for something. So many lives that walked around on the hot sands. So many clueless to what watched them from the rocky hills above. The dark armor almost like a shadow in the sun light. No light touching the black armor hidden by the dark mist that moved around the metal. That moved around, down, and gently playing across the rocky floor. Those red eyes staring at all those present as they continued to search for something. He had been standing there for who knows the length of time, perhaps not for very long. Yet there the Dark Knight was with his hands resting relaxed across on the top of the hilt of his Soul Blade. The very dark metal of the sword itself not even reflecting any light, with the tip gently resting in the rocks. The Dark Knight's red eyes slowly skim over to something in the shadows, before they return to look at all those below. Watching. Examining. Evaluating.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath feels a chill. Not the bodily kind of chill, of prespiration evaporating under an abrupt cool breeze. No, this is quite different--deep in his core, as if his very beating heart had been grasped by dead hands. He knows this feeling. One gauntleted hand rises to touch the ram-like plate over his face, recent scars throbbing in memory resonance, as his other hand tightens into a fist at his side. He can feel the stare even from down here, like a predator stalking likely prey yet undecided whether to pounce or not. Abruptly, his helm snaps up and he fully faces the direction from where he senses the stare's origin--ahead and to his right, approximately 100 meters away and a fair distance on top of a rocky outcropping laid bare above the sand. Unseen eyes meet distant red, and the Judge of Reason's hands settle onto his hips in a loose grasp. There is no tension nor intent, just a Judge Magister standing still with his attention directed in a new location. It takes a few minutes for the other soldiers to notice, and even when their gazes are drawn to the strange shadow in broad daylight, even they don't seem to know how to respond. "Ser who watches from on high." The Judge Magister's voice carries extremely well in the dry, still air--both towards the rocks and back to the supply point. Even his tone is neutral, indicating no emotion except simple logical observation. "Have you seen either behemoth or armored men? Or is your purpose here more dark than mere curiousity?"

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke frowned at the new shadow. It felt... off. "Nothing from my end." He instinctivly went about checking his guns, hissword. Nothing frantic just 'is everything there?' "Chance at parlay before hostilities?" He wasn't sure if diplomacy would work, but he always felt it best to try the easy way first.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku growls very faintly, the grating sound of it harsh in his throat. It is so faint that it seems Riku isnt aware of what hes doing because he is still smiling that rueful smile at Zeke which is apparently sincere. So the growl of fear and threat is not directed at him. He takes in a deep breath and thanks Zeke, lifting up the salve slightly and pocketing it. His eyes roam the endless sands with the aimless glance of the disinterested and fall out of focus, slowly orienting on the rocky hills for a few moments before sweeping across soldiers and Remora and the supply train. He does not face the darkness on the rocky hillside. In fact he pointedly looks around the supply train in an attempt to keep his focus in another direction. Pain and discomfort and the ashes of confusion and shock have kindled together into a searing low grade anger that he keeps very carefully contained by his distance. The cold, hungry feeling of the darkness jams a stick into those ember laden ashes, threatening to roar into sudden flames. "Can I have my journal back?" he asks expressionlessly, tonelessly, completely unconcerned as he pulls his face into some semblance of grim amusement. "And whoever they are, they better not get in the way." he sighs. "It is.. a very.. very big desert after all."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight does not move when he is addressed, he only continues to stand there like a silent stone statue. Yet there was a slow tilt of his helm to one side, now seeming to be staring directly at Zargabaath for a bit. As if looking for deeper then just the armor, but right into the man's very heart. His red eyes then shift over to Zeke, doing the same before they come to slowly gaze upon Riku. There was then another shift of a tilt to his head. Yet the silence remained, before those red eyes gazed back upon Zargabaath once more. His voice lacking nearly any emotion. It was calm and his words very precise. They echoed in the helm with a deep resonance. "If you seek an armored man. I have what you wish up here. Out cold yet still alive. His life grows shorter." There was then a pause, "..a shame perhaps." The Dark Knight then slides one hand off his other, before his hand takes the hilt of the blade. It soon glows blue, before it then seems to fade into dark mists, then soon those mists rejoin his armor. "His heart is strong. You are fortunate of that.. very fortunate." He then takes a few steps back, his hand palm up, before moving it over to the side to the shade of the rocks where along side him. It seem to be a rather open invitation.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The soldiers flinch noticeably at the Dark Knight's actions, more than a few reaching for their own weapons in response. Others growl, some wordlessly yet others with threats to his safety if he has endangered their fellow Archadian's. But all are clearly intimidated, though to what degree varies by the individual. "Enough." Though the Judge of Reason's voice is deep and calm, the sound of rolling thunder would have been hard-pressed to match the power behind the order. As it is, the soldiers immediately and almost instinctively relax and shift backwards a step, though their gazes are still distrustful. Judge Magister Zargabaath himself, however, slips his arms beneath his cape and pulls free both of his swords from their holsters on his back. He holds them out to the side, showing the weapons clearly to the Dark Knight, then turns them point-down and drives them deep into the sand at his sides. He then removes a leather pouch from under his chestplate and rests it at his feet before straightening and stepping forwards, his intent made clear. His voice does not change from the rumbling deep calm even as he advances forwards. "Two unarmed soldiers, one medic--with me. The rest of you, return to the Remorra and await further instruction. Under no circumstance shall any of you," he cants his head to the side, his gaze perhaps cast over his shoulder back towards Zeke and Riku both in particular, "approach nor advance beyond the supply point." Three soldiers run through the sand to join him at his sides as he walks towards the outcropping, and the four of them scale the rocks as quickly as possible yet without fearfully rushing. The rest of the soldiers fall back as ordered, all of them with expressions varying from fearful to angry.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke nodded once and remained with the other soldiers, at least for now. Chain of command. Orders." He looked rather calm in spite of everything. "Alright you swabs y'heard th'man.." Yet he edged closer to Riku. "C'mon lad. We give these lot some space enough t'feel like they can converse." Of course he didn't plan on fully retreating. AFter all he didn't like the idea of just leaving the man to the tender mercies of... whoever this bloke was. "We do exactly as the big man says." ANd yet he wasn't in too big a hurry no matter that he was following hte letter of the order.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku rocks back on his heels, tucking the journal away carefully. Every movement is slow and careful and precise. He smooths down his clothes, drawing in a choking lungful of heated air that sears his lungs and expels it in a coughing fit and a sigh. Why were they here? Why were they here if not to grind salt into already inflicted wounds? The words go around and around in his head, sparking flashes of anger and doubt as transitory as heat lightning. But it was a big universe. Not everything had to happen for a reason. Sometimes things just happened. Sometimes you were just told to stay put and sit on your hands and be good. Sometimes monsters just killed people. And there was nothing you could do about it. Not in front of all these people. Riku slowly put a hand to his head, kneading one temple as the flashes came closer and closer together. His empty expression slowly fills with anger as he glares at the soldiers, slowly closing his hand until the nails were biting into his skin and edging towards pain. Riku released his grip, rubbing his forehead of sweat in a gesture far too calculated to be casual. His shoulders relax, tense and then relax again as he lets out a breath very slowly. "Yeah.." he says in a tired voice, "..exactly as he says." Not precisely how he means, maybe. And the slowness would help. Riku moved slowly but steadily, keeping close to Zeke. "You seem to have a problem with portals." He notes with the echoes of something like humor. "..or at least a habit of being in all sorts of places. Oddly enough.. I can relate to that."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Those red eyes watching Zargabaath's actions, before they shifted over to Riku. He seem to stare at Riku for a long while. The dark mist around him shifting slightly, like a predator who knew another predator. Those red eyes soon looked upon Zeke as well for a moment. Studying them for just a bit of time. Then the Dark Knight settles his gaze on Zargabaath as he and his men start to move up the rocky hill side. The Dark Knight then walks over to the shadows, before raising up his hand. The dark mist around him slips into the darkness, seeming to unveil the location of the Judge. Though why he was hiding the Judge is another matter entirely. He then seems to step away. Where he steps, darkness flows across the rocks, yet dissipates as quickly as it touches it. "As for your other, I fear only an arm remains. Dried blood states it is long gone." The Dark Knight then stands there, watching what they all do now. "Though tell me sir, as I protected your ally from the sun, what is the name of the boy with the white hair?" Then there was a pause, before his head tilt to one side, "..and yours."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath is the first to reach the summit and notably stands between the Dark Knight and his three soldiers as they climb all the way up themselves. He does not say a word, only needing to aim a hand towards the fallen Archadian Judge and they move immediately to his aid without hesitation, to their credit. The Judge of Reason stands tall, his stance neutral and unthreatening with his arms at his sides without a hint of tension. But the implied gaze behind the helm... well, to say it is 'piercing' would likely be an understatement. The moving darkness in defiance of the sun's rays gets particular note, as does the Dark Knight's appearance. There is something far, far deeper at work here. Just being in the man's vicinity is nearly enough to turn his stomach to stone, to say the least. Judge Magister Zargabaath's helm lowers just a tad, indicating acknowledgement of the Dark Knight's inquiry. "One Archadian life for one Archadian name--my own. I am Judge Magister Zargabaath, commander of the 12th Imperial Fleet." The fact the Dark Knight is interested in the youth back by the Remorra gets no reaction, but is noted accordingly. "I would thank you for your kindness in aiding us, Ser, but I suspect t'was neither kindness nor intent to aid that brought you here." His own helm cants faintly to one side. "Or am I wrong?"

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke just kinda hung around directing traffic. Way he saw it most of these people would get hurt or worse if things went bad. Plus it was his job t osee to supplies and people were 'supplies'... no wait they were personnel, but they carried supplies! He didn't make any outwardly hostile or provoking moves. He just kept eyes out for the scenery and watched the army go about it's business. There was a little bit of movement to follow on his part but it was reluctaint, halting, almost as if he wanted to be at the rear of the line on the 'repositioning of avalible forces' or whatever fancy word was used instead of 'retreat.' Meh. He drank deeply from his water skin. "Blasted sun. Cully Foolish of me t'be out hear. S'not natural t'be this far from open sea"

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku holds onto his anger and his patience by an increasingly gossamer thread. He takes out his journal and goes to talk with some of the imperial soldiers near the Remora. He asks them about anything that they may have found since some of them are from a recently returned search party. He inquires about anything strange in the area like any other sightings of unusual monsters or unusual activity in the surrounding desert land. His voice occasionally starts to quaver but whoever he is talking to is delivered such a burning stare as to scour the memory or at the very least dare them silently to notice or say anything about it. He updates his notes, gathers the information and does his best to listen as well as talk. He does his very best to ignore the knifing pain of the darkness on the hill sawing at the last fraying edges of his control. He eventually returns to Zeke. "I.. yeah.. I remember something about a ship now." He sighs. "Must be nice, out on the open ocean." His eyes cloud over and become distant for a moment before clearing. "..at one point, I would have thought it the peak of adventure .." he snorts very faintly. "..adventure. Right."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight only slightly cants his head a bit. It was not the answer he was hoping for, but it was an answer he would get it would seem. "Protective of your men." The Dark Knight states. "Your heart is one of light. You care deeply for them. Perhaps, even risk your life for them?" The dark mist around the Dark Knight swirls for a moment as the armored figure moves. Each step in the right step with the other. Very methodical about how he moves. Those red eyes piercing right into the eye slights of the Judge of Reason's own. Piercing right in deep. "Man of honor. Man of Light. I shall remember this, Judge Magister Zargabaath." The armored figure comes to a halt in his pacing before he inclines his head slightly, his hands kept by his side. "We are only here in passing and perhaps in hopes to find a decent place to eat if we require a meal." The Dark Knight seems to say this in all calmness. No hint of mean attention, sarcasm, or even rudeness. His red eyes gaze over the the judge being treated too. Those red eyes staring for a moment, before they shift back to Zargabaath, looking down slightly at the tad shorter man. There was then a long silence, with no words spoken. Not even the sound of breathing from the Dark Knight.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The soldiers around the Remorra give what information they can to Riku, most welcoming the distraction. Some do give Riku a concerned look, but the withering glare they get in return do indeed keep them from voicing such concerns. One soldier nearby Zeke and Riku glances up from where he is idily tending to his weapon. "A ship on the sea?" He flips the faceplate and visor up to reveal his face, slicked from sweat. "What is it like?" A few others nearby cant helms or pause conversations to listen as well, similarly curious. Meanwhile, on the ridge, Judge Magister Zargabaath gives absolutely no outward indication of his thoughts as he continues to watch the Dark Knight. He does not even speak to either confirm nor deny the Dark Knight's observations, knowing that actions speak loudly enough. It is an odd thing, however, when the Dark Knight levels him with a piercing stare of his own. Such red eyes... one so dark should have gold, should they not? The way he moves, like a mechanical clockwork in perfect timing, is unnerving to see coming from what is most likely a human before him. But still the Judge of Reason remains stoic. "As shall I remember you, Ser Knight of Darkness," he acknowledges in kind. His mind almost immediately keys on the 'we' in the Dark Knight's statement. This... could turn interesting. "I see. Then I shant keep you longer than you see nessisary." Without averting his gaze, he points to the group of Archadian soldiers with two fingers, then bends the knuckles to point towards the ground. Immediately, the medic finishes patching up what he can while the soldiers lift and carefully move the wounded Judge back down the rocky outcropping. "Whatever your reason may be, you have my thanks for your assistance." He lowers his arm, his helm only slightly tilted upwards to continue meeting the gaze of the taller man.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' "I'm not one to just sit idle man." Zeke's words were soft. "The seas be hard and cruel at times, but they also do be fair minded. You go out. You take your lumps no matter what station. I dunna like battle an have no love of fighting for some arbitrary 'God said so'." He offered Riku a spare water skin he kept on hand. After all he wasn't used to the climate so he had been provided for. Granted he had been joked at for being an outlander but no skin off his back. "Righting wrongs, tilting at windmills." Feh. "Give me a ship, a crew, and tell me there's new land yonderway and a hcance to be th'first t'make contact with a native people that don't yet know how badly the british or spanish or whomever will bloody well ruin their lives in name of God and Country... and Greed. Mustnt forget base Greed no matter what windowdressing used." What? He's british. He's allowed to insult his own people. "I don't wanna own the world. I just wanna SEE it. That's enough for any man. To see the expanse of God's creation and experiance it." Yet in spite of his words Zeke Just. Kept. Popping. Up and sticking his nose, and sword, between the boogyman and whatever it wanted to eat. What of Riku though? What had caused a boy barely old enough t'be out on deck, to have such a cynical view of the world(s)? "We get out of this I wanna have a sitdown with ye lad. Try seeing what troubles yer mixed up in see if there's anythin within reason I can do t'help."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' 'As long as there is not a hug in the offer' is the thought that gets Riku to actually chuckle slightly. He warms to the man slightly as he takes any excuse to focus his searing attention on anything other than the fuse in his head that has burnt down to the last threadbare strands. He doesn't want to be there when the explosion comes, but he doesn't really have much of a choice now does he? Riku throws another glance at the hillside and the Judge Magister, and notes with a sliver of relief that they've gotten the wounded Judge on his feet and the distant figures were going to descend the rocks soon if nothing else went wrong. Riku returned his gaze to Zeke. He has to wade through that accent to make any sense of the words, but eventually he speaks up again. "Thats.. that's a really long story.." he snorts faintly. "I told it to somebody once and.. that story didn't end well." he shakes his head, banishing the topic. "Tell us a story about the sea, though." he smiles, but the expression in strained and very forced. "Not many here have seen it as maybe you have.

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight watches Zargabaath's gestures. How he moves, how he speaks. All of it being examined piece by piece. Bit by bit. His attention fully becoming focused on the Judge Magister before him and less now on those below. Including those leaving. "You are welcome, Judge Magister Zargabaath. Yet I am sure you will scorn that thanks in time." Yet his attention is quickly drawn off as two armored knights come up the other side of the rocky terrain. There armor just as black and the polishing like that of a mirror finish. There eyes just as red as the very Dark Knight before the Judge. Yet they miss the dark mist that the Dark Knight projects from his. As the Knights approach they suddenly come to a halt as the Dark Knight turns to face them. His red gaze meeting their own. It was a long stare, the Dark Knight almost narrowing his eyes as the dark mist only creeps out a bit further around his feet. One of the Knights clasps his hand into a fist, before striking the fist against his armor plating and then bowing. "Sir. All is ready. Forgive us for the interruption." He stays bowed for a bit longer, before he rises back up, then the two stand there for a moment before they both look at Zargabaath. The Dark Knight gives only a soft nod. "Understood. Return." They both speak at the same time. "As you command." before they turn about face and start to make there way back down. The Dark Knight then turns to look at Zargabaath once more. "You answered my question. I think I will return the favor. Ask one of your own."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' As the trio of 12th Fleet soldiers help the Judge down the rocks, a few soldiers gather at the very edge of the supply point. Bound by their commander's order, they only stay put and watch intently. Others, however, shift a little closer to Riku and Zeke, curious as to the concept of airships in water--or so they would equate it. It is a welcome tension-breaker, and not all of them can assist with the situation. Fortunately for all involved, Archadian and otherwise, none are able to see what happens on the ridge itself, as the Judge of Reason is blocking what little could otherwise be seen. Judge Magister Zargabaath's helm turns slightly to level his hidden stare at two knights approaching. He is silent throughout the exchange, keeping his stance completely neutral, but analyzing everything. Or what little he is able to glean from it. It does, at least, confirm the Dark Knight's comment about 'we'. Only when the two knights depart does the Judge of Reason refocus solely on the Dark Knight. He does not waste time, word, or breath--instead, he gets right to the point. "One as dark as you should have gold eyes. Yet you and those you command have red eyes. Why?"

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke could see the stress and pai netched into Riku's body. No matter how calm the face thre's always a little something and Zeke has seen enough people holding on for the sake of presentability to recognize at least that the emotional water was deep if not how deep or troubled. Still. He started launching into the story of when he ended up accidentilly catching a mermaid in a fishing net. Simple story. His ship was low on food and weeks from port so they had to fish for provisions. Well and good. Cast nets out. Sail a ways, pull up fish if the school you've been chasing doens't scatter. Trouble is something else was in that school. Something that was part man. Part... Other. "Now then some say merfolk are merely animals that have been made to look just human enough to lure men in to devour." Zeke's tone was lecturing now. "Hogwash and to the bilge with that. They're people like any other merely adapted to their homes. Now then going with the stories that they be vengful and attack ships. That I can believe since after all ye end up having people, strangers that don't bother even pretendng you exist, hunting your homes clean, thrashing about and making all maneer of meyhem. In short being more like raiders than traders and allies." Water sip. "I've had the pleasure of meeting one that's managed the trick of walking on land and so have learned that at least that one is curious of our owrld and customs an hope to take that home to clear misunderstandings." Nevermind he was talking about Ariel. He wouldn't name her as she had asked for his confidence on the matter. Emotionally? The talk of sea and routine was actually calming. It was familiar to him after all so why not. Then... Mermaids. Something there. Curiosity. Hope. Joy.... Affection? Whoever this embassary was he had close ties to them, or at lest he wanted such ties. "Things nobody believes possible. Nobody really seems to know how much we don't know really. S'why I love the sea. Family has been on the ocean since my grandfather's time. It is as familiar to us as surviving out here to you.." Then a small storm in his head, a knot of darkness and pain. "Then I found them in trouble.... " Joy. Hope Pride all shining bright, overwhelming and driving away the blackness. "But when i put out the call. I didn't go in alone. When we accidentilly woke a demon even those dangerous selfish pirates of the harbor we were at aided us in beating it back and save those that could ve saved. I know not what caused it to wake. I just know it woke. Tried taking me. Then got punched in the face by people that didn't want ot see me fall. I owe them."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku starts to realize how close he is to the edge because he finds he's been edging slowly closer to Zeke while he talks without knowing he was doing it. The emotions are going off in his head like flashes of brilliant light in a darkened cave. He looks down at his burnt hand and there is a grateful relief that flickers across his face because he.. wants.. but doesn't really need to have. It's an strange feeling, and teetering on that edge with darkness pounding like a headache from the region of the hillside makes everything dull and distorted and coming from far away. And he follows the threads of the story down and down, and when the call went out, he didn't go in alone. Demons. Taking. Demons always wanted to take things that weren't theirs to take. He tried to focus but he was slipping sideways and only holding onto the story to keep him stable. About place far away from here, and adventures out on a wide ocean. Riku looks at Zeke, sight blearring back and forth between smears of light and color and he brings up a hand to cover his eyes, turning away from Zeke for a moment. He covers this up by also taking a seat nearby with an almost boneless weariness."Yeah." he laughs, and the sound is slightly crazed but also highly bemused. "..a friend taught me never to underestimate a good punch to the face. So.." he asks, his voice deceptively calm. "What happened to the girl in the net?"

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The armored knight cants his head at Zargabaath's question. It caused him a long moment of silence before the words he speaks are calm even as his stance remains so. No emotion being shown or even the slight bit of concern. It seem to the Dark Knight knew he was perhaps the big dog here in this standing with the Judge Magister. "Our eyes are red because we were created with such. It is the mark of our creator." The Dark Knight says simply enough before he starts to turn away from Zargabaath. "Those of us who loose our color are lost and shortly destroyed."

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The men who are listening to Zeke's story are enraptured by tales of mermaids and the imagery that Zeke invokes. One of the soliders walks over to Riku and rests a hand on the boy's shoulder--barely touching, but concerned and supportive all the same. The soldiers reach the sand at the base of the rocky outcropping and begin the trek back to the Remorra. Meanwhile, above them, Judge Magister Zargabaath inclines his helm, though only slightly. "I see." And that is all he says in reply as the Dark Knight turns away. No farewell, no further questions, no indication of thought. He is the living wall between the Dark Knight and the Judge Magister's own men. 'Risk your life for them', indeed.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke looked at Riku with moere than a bit of concern. "Oi... you alright man?" Then his entire focus shifted. Worry shot thorugh with more than a little panic. Heatstroke he knew but would it be diffrent here? Would the desert take more than the open ocean? "Medic!" Off one of his water skins went and he emptied it over the boy's head and shoulders. Then since he was apparently closest he tried to get Riku to take a sip from anothr waterskin. "Slow drinks lad. Slow drinks." And then he was pulling his coat off and folding it before attempting to get Rikku to lay back. He stood between the sun and the boy. "easy there. Easy it'll be alright." Soft words. Confident. Even his emotions wer calm, focused. Sure he didn't know the desert but he was with people that were and so he only had to worry for a short while.

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku nods sluggishly and spits out water, looking alarmed and then angry and then very chagrined. When he's sure that he isn't going to alarm anyone, he runs a hand through his hair and laughs tiredly. "Thanks, Zeke.." he makes a motorboat noise as he sighs, letting out a breath as the water does allow him a moments reprieve from the heat if nothing else. He takes the water skin gratefully. Sips a little bit, tries not to literally sway in place and steadies himself with a hand. "I'm from an ocean world myself." he says softly. "..I don't handle some things very well." he smiles with chagrin as he eventually hands the waterskin back.

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The dark armored knight continues to turn away from Zargabaath. His steps precise, in proper step from one another as he walks. It was almost rhythmatic. His cape never even moving any as he walked. Never swaying. The stance almost perfect. Yet as he gets a few feet away from the Judge Magister, the darkness around him starts to swarm him even more. The dark mist becoming as thick as ink black, before suddenly it dispersed in a burst of black smoke and the Dark Knight was gone.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath remains standing atop the ridge for a few minutes longer after the Dark Knight disappears in black smoke--in Darkness itself. Then, purposefully, he makes an abrupt about-face to regard the Remorra and the progress of the rescue team. Good... He lifts one arm and makes a series of arm-motions that are clearly signals, and the soldiers already standing by and waiting lunge forwards as one to assist the rescue team. Zargabaath himself then begins to make his way down the rocky outcropping, though a careful eye would note his movements are... jerky. Too controlled. His men don't see it, far too worried for their comrades and Riku alike. A medic quickly runs over upon Zeke's call and starts checking on Riku whether or not the Judge Cadet wants to deal with it. Heat exhaustion bordering on a heat stroke is taken very seriously in a desert environment no matter what world you're from.

:'''[[Zeke]] has posed:''' Zeke nodded slow but stayed between Riku and the harsh sun. "aye. Not that great with this much land around." There was an attempt at humor or at least a lightness to Zeke's words. "As for the girl," He picked up on the story he never finished. "nded up losing the catch, but between me and Jon she got freed and our nets ruined. Managed to pole fish enough t'make it back t'port with. Not sure if I'll see that one again. Hope she's figured to be a little more aware. Shame really. They live in the waters my craft and others run but there's been no organized attempts to talk. Find common ground. Mayhap open for trade and flow of material and information." He looked over to the army at large and frowned before helping Riku up to a seating position so he could get his coat back. A quick shake late and he stood, watching. Also it was readily apparent now he was wearing a bundle of guns tied to differing lines looped 'round his neck. Seven pistols and possibly more in addition to the two at his hip. Gee. He doens't believe in going in light doesn't he? "Still. Even with misunderstandings and history betwix their culture and ours." Hope. Hope and light. "There is one that I hope to keep seeing. She's proven such a facinating person. Wonderful. Adventurous. Kind...." Sigh. "SHe's probably got someone back home an it be foolish of me t'act so but I canna no more help it than I can turn the tides." He looked up and frowned. "Think the fun's not happening man. Best we get out of here an' save ourselfs risk of further sunstroke ya? Saw this nice little place in town with probably the best sandwiches for miles." Beat. Sudden realizatio nthsi was the ONLY large settlement for miles. "OK fine fine it's somewhere that looked good this morning and didn't have a bartender cawwing at anyone for ordering nonalchoholic."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku eventually convinces the medic that he's fit enough to stand, even though he's still dripping from the well intentioned dousing. He smiles at Zeke. "Hold that thought." he murmurs something very quietly for awhile, not saying anything audible, and then starts to walk very calmly and precisely towards the Judge Magister. He salutes, and then takes out his journal when he reaches the side of the Judge Magister. "Instructions, your honor?" he asks this as if he had been called over and was not actually concerned about the Magister at all. He stands straight in front of them, the jerkiness hidden as the Judge of Reason continues to advance. "Anything I need to write down?" No. Nothing wrong here at all. Move along. Move along.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' The further Judge Magister Zargabaath walks from the outcropping, the more natural his gait becomes even if it still seems forced. Riku's appearance helps mask it entirely, though the boy would probably notice a faint tremor in his gauntleted hands that not even he can hide. He is definitely holding himself in check, though whether he is on the verge of lashing out or crumbling is not clear. When he speaks, his voice is even but not quite that familiar calm, strangled emotion roiling just under the surface. "The behemoth is long gone, but we may still have a trail. One Judge recovered alive but heavily wounded. Second Judge confirmed... killed." He pauses at his swords, yanking them out of the sand in a spray of desert dust that indicates far more force than nessisary. "Judge Magister Gabranth..." He sheathes the swords under his cape and kneels on one knee, reaching for the leather pouch but not quite picking it up yet. He just pauses there. "...Unconfirmed. Still missing."

:'''[[Riku]] has posed:''' Riku closes his eyes as a spike of.. something molten hot or as fierce as a star lances through his head, lancing his shaky control. His fingers clench the surface of the journal but he takes his cues from the judge magister. He keeps spine absolutely straight, eyes locked on the journal as he collaborates his notes and shares what he got from the search party. "Understood, your honor." he does not ask what is burning into his head very slowly like a brand. He just swallows it, burning all the way down as he remains calm. He was probably going to pay for his enforced calm later... but that was later. And he could push it off.. just until then.

:'''[[Zargabaath]] has posed:''' Judge Magister Zargabaath emits a long, slow exhale before picking up the pouch and tucking it back under his chestplate. "There is still hope." He slowly rises, his weight uneven for a moment before he fully straightens, and he rests a hand on Riku's shoulder. "There is always hope." One of the soldiers sprints over to them from within the Remorra, holding a paper in his hands. "Your Honor! The behemoth!" The Judge of Reason snaps out his free hand to take the paper from the soldier, scanning it quickly before he freezes. Slowly, the arm holding the paper lowers until it hangs limply at his side. "Clearly, Faram means to toy with me," he rumbles semi-ominously, oddly sounding like he's on the verge of laughing despite it. In his hand is a transcribed copy of the Desert Eye News, specifically its headline: 'Behemoth Gone?? But Where To Now?!'

Collusion

2013-04-04T17:40:27Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/03/29 |Location=Palamecia Castle |Synopsis=Emperor Mateus retires to his library for some light reading. What he finds instead becomes far mor..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/03/29
|Location=Palamecia Castle
|Synopsis=Emperor Mateus retires to his library for some light reading. What he finds instead becomes far more beneficial...
|Thanks=Major thanks to Stormfall!
|Cast of Characters=Robed Figure, Emperor Mateus
|pretty=yes
}}
:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Palamecia has slowly begun to awaken from its slumber. Official messages have been sent to Baron and Guadosalam requesting audiences with their respective leader(s). As a result, whispers of alliances and treaties are thick in the air within the castle walls. The Dark Knight has been busy as well, continuing his work evaluating the world and those who fight for it with the passive permission of his master. The world knows none of this, however--only that a mysterious Dark Knight roams the lands and that the Northern Continent is not as abandoned as it has seemed. But right now, none of that matters to the Emperor of Palamecia. Currently, Emperor Mateus is in the middle of his vast library, adorned in his royal robes befitting of his station. He seems to be scanning the aisles for something in particular, fast but methodical as he scans each row. He could call it to himself by magic, as all tomes here have been enchanted to thwart thieves. But to do so is to deny the chance to stretch one's own mental capacities, memory in particular. It probably does not hurt that he is somewhat bored. Bored of the politics that come with his station and with the monotony he has found himself in ever since he repaired his loyal lieutenant's armor the other day.

:'''[[Robed Figure]] has posed:''' "A healthy respect for knowledge in a ruler does credit to their kingdom.." There is not only the emperor of palamecia in the grand library. They are perhaps not a man, not even truely a spirit. Simply a presence, a shadow wrapped in a formless brown cloak that is inspecting the magical tomes with the air of a scholar. With the ponderant air that shrugs aside intrusion and consequences as immaterial and wraith-like as they are. A cultured, well heeled voice comes from underneath the drawn cowl. A gloved hand reaches out to pluck one of the magical tomes from the shelf and with delicate and precise movements, tap the binding covers gently twice before opening to a seemingly random page. They make as if to study the glyphs within for several seconds. The figure makes a slightly indulgant noise. The sound one would make having found an old coloring book in a dusty and forgotten antic. A moment of nostalgic wonder and faint adult scorn for the focuses of times long past. "High Emperor of Palamecia. From one master to another, I send polite regards although not formality. You will soon have your plate full of that, awakened kingdom." the figure puts the book carefully back on the shelf. "Regardless of your reading choices."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus pauses, one hand outstretched with fingertips lightly brushing the spine of the book he has been seeking. For someone not himself to even touch a book in this place would emit a resonance that would alert him immediately, much less taking the tome off the shelf and opening it. But there was nothing. There was no warning. No indications of a second presence, a second /person/. Absolutely nothing. The Emperor of Palamecia turns around 180-degrees, rising on his toes in the fluid motion of the about-face, his eyes narrowed faintly as he evaluates the One Who Intrudes. But just as before, there is nothing there. Nothing to indicate identity nor ability, only a presence from whence the words are spoken. And such negation is reserved only to a select few within the Shadow Lords, if he speaks truly, and Mateus can only extrapolate from what he is given. It is a rather strange feeling, and not one he especially likes. "Wisdom is the retention of what is important, no matter how childish it seems on the surface, and a library is a window to the owner's progression. So I have been taught, and so I have discovered as I have grown." He chuckles softly, a faint 'fufufu' barely audible in the atrium. "I shall admit, I find myself closer to the realm of childish wimsy than most of our colleagues, but it has served me quite well both in my world and recently." He bows at the waist to the robed figure, one arm sweeping over his torso to accentuate the respectful gesture. "You honor me, indeed. However, I fear I know you not nor your reason for visiting."

:'''[[Robed Figure]] has posed:''' "Wisdom is knowing how to differentiate what it truly prudent and what is simply foolish." There is a faint noise, the semblance of the faintest pause although no breath and no life bleeds forth from the cowl. "Taking oneself too serious can often fall into the second category." The robed figure paces along the library, gloved hands loosely clasped behind them as they stalk, one foot at a time, on silent treads that leave no mark and no sound. "And you are certainly no fool, though.. these books are a showcase and a sham. Perhaps your own indulgence." the robed figure turns around slowly to face Emperor Mateus. There is a slender slice of a face there, and a single eye. Just a slice with the rest of the face lost in darkness. "I come because I am indulging myself in a moment's curiosity in yourself and.. the securing of your newest acquisition. I would like to speak on it. The conversation will perhaps.." there is a pause, and the very smallest glimmer of an amused smile. "..serve us both."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus will not deny the robed visitor's insight, and in fact smiles knowingly even with the piercing comment about the library simply being his own indulgence. Why deny and hide the truth when it is laid out so plainly? So long as such trivialities do not affect his duties and plans, what does it matter? He straightens, watching the figure pace with his chin tilted slightly downwards. A defensive gesture, slight though it is, but understandable given the circumstances. So he is here out of curiousity, of something he has done. "What have I accomplished that would pique such interest?" He doesn't nessisarily sound humble, but certainly sincere in his interest in such a topic. Already, though, he is putting his mind to work. He has been silent for a long time, then there are eyes upon him the moment he... "Do you refer to my Dark Knight, by chance?"

:'''[[Robed Figure]] has posed:''' "Indeed. The powers you harness for their.. upkeep, do not come from books. They do not linger temptingly in scrolls for any yeoman to lay bare. But.. they may still be held. In places. In runes. In objects." The robed figure opens a gloved hand, a shimmering rune floating in the air above their palm. It was serpentine and ethereal, impossible to read as parts of the tightly packed configuration seemed to be fading in and out of reality at the whim of some dark wind. Even the rune itself was scrawled tightly with the jagged edges and rolling curves of other runes, and they with their own, spiraling down into an infinite mirror looking down straight into the darkness between all things. "Perhaps I can tempt you with an exchange?" the figure closes their hand, extuinguising the glyph. "I would very much like to take a closer examination of your dark knight as a part of my own studies at hand."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus' eyes latch onto the rune as it is conjured above the robed one's hand, gaze keen like a hungry hawk. He tries to read it, using his own knowledge about darkness and magic, but the very nature of the rune is infinite in its darkness and constantly shifting. He'd get better answers from peering into the Void itself. Well, he won't deny that his own curiosity has been piqued, at the very least. "A strong temptation indeed." His nostrils flare with a deep, slow inhale, his chin lifting in consideration. "I might be agreeable to this. I could even show you the chamber upon which his armor is bound." Considering this individual's power, he may have been there already. "But, what would you offer in exchange for borrowing my most important soldier?"

:'''[[Robed Figure]] has posed:''' "You know why I am here, and what I am offering." The robed figure turns their head slightly to one side, the slice of visage falling away back under the cowl as they turn to walk towards the window to look out on the vision of the city beyond. "Knowledge is the greater essence of power. Violence merely it's lesser and more.. inelegant aspect." the figure turns and walks back to the emperor. "Although that too, has it's place and it's uses." they withdraw a card from a fold of their robges. It is a simple black card with no embellishment at all. So simple as to be completely inconsequential. "Wealth you have in fine supply, but there may always be.. opportunity for more." The card is blank on the inside, the creamy white of the paper stark against the perfect black of the opposite surface. "Pick only one. Inscribe it here, as you wish. Or do not choose at all, and proceed on your own. I am not here to hinder you, but neither do I need you. I am.. merely extending an invitation to a potential colleague. Nothing more."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smirks faintly despite himself. The statements, which he takes as a well-earned rebuke, clears his mind drastically. He is acting like an impudent child trying to take more than his fair share from someone he perceives (and is) stronger than himself. Such a mindset is completely beneath one of his standing. If this robed one was truly here to take, why waste time and effort with amicable exchange? "Of course. Forgive my impudence." He reaches out and accepts the card from the figure, a quill conjuring into his fingertips. He shifts his grip on the card, holding it between his fingers as one would hold an open book one-handed, and the quill leaves his hand to hover above the cream-colored innards and poised to write. But it does not move immediately. In fact, a few short moments pass as the Emperor's gaze turns introspective, evaluating his wishes and boring down to what, exactly, he truly /wants/. What is his ultimate goal? Certainly the Dark Knight is a triumphant achievement, but he knows the status of his best soldier is fragile at best. Held at that knife's edge between being free and being consumed. Surely there is a better way? The quill moves even before Mateus' gaze refocuses to the surroundings, thoughts being written in black lettering onto the cream paper by an invisible hand. There are no flourishes, no elegance, no cursive. Just clear, block letters straight from what remains of his own heart: 'Pure Darkness bound in human form, with intelligence and logic to match. Higher than Heartless, utter subservience and loyalty to their creator. No Light able to intervene, undo, or destroy.'

:'''[[Robed Figure]] has posed:''' The card crackles and hisses as the block lettering sears into the surface of the card. "An interesting choice." The Robed Figure says quietly without needing to look at the card. A hand extends silently towards the emperor, asking for the return of the card. No theatrics and none needed. "One that perhaps you will not come to regret, for in all great works.. more than a little patience is required. We will see." There is a pause, and then the figure asks. "Do we have an accord? An examination of your champion and their..capabilities in exchange for what you seek?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The quill disintegrates to dust, which in turn disappears, and Emperor Mateus simply hands the closed card back to the robed figure. No theatrics given, none required. This is simply buisness. "All good things come to those who wait." The Emperor of Palamecia smiles thinly, though there is no warmth in expression nor gaze. "As well as to those who work towards a clear goal." He folds his hands loosely behind his back. "We have an accord indeed. I would ask for care when examining him..." He chuckles softly, a faint 'fufufu' sound, "...but I am certain such is a given and thus concern is unwarranted."

:'''[[Robed Figure]] has posed:''' "They will not be given anything they cannot abide." The card is tucked away within the folds of the robe. There is a flash of an eye, then an inclination of the head somewhat like a polite bow. "Of that, you can be certain. Good evening, Emperor. We will speak again soon." The robe withers and evaporates, leaving only a few wisps of dark essence behind that shimmer into nothingness.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus folds one arm over his abdomen, the other arm still tucked behind his back, and bows his head as the robed figure dissipates into the darkness. A few moments pass before he straightens, and a few more while his eyes sweep piercingly over the library. He has to admit, that meeting was quite a new experience. "How interesting..." He flicks his hand out to the side from behind his back, the book he had come here to retrieve flying through the air to his grasp. "How intriguing..." He smiles, wide but cold with the barest of teeth showing past his thin lips, his chin tilting downwards and eyes narrowing with a glint within. To call it a predatory expression would not do it enough justice. "How enchantingly perfect." And with that, he sweeps out of the library into the halls beyond. There is much work to do.

To Judge And Be Judged

2013-04-02T05:53:13Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Cutscene Header |Date of Scene=2013/03/31 |Location=Upper Archades |Synopsis=It is a bitter pill to swallow when one must evaluate themselves as keenly as they would others...."

{{Cutscene Header
|Date of Scene=2013/03/31
|Location=Upper Archades
|Synopsis=It is a bitter pill to swallow when one must evaluate themselves as keenly as they would others. Judge Magister Zargabaath recovers from the Mist Poisoning he has recently endured and takes the time to look back at past deeds since the time of Ivalice's fall.
|Cast of Characters=Zargabaath
}}
Judge Magister Zargabaath sits at his desk in his oft-forgotten ground-based office within Archades itself. He is unused to being put on mandatory leave with little to do, his armor under maintenance and decontamination, leaving him in standard Archadian clothing. He has already alerted the 12th Fleet of his condition and his intent to return as soon as he is fully cleared to resume his duties, beyond the evil of paperwork.

He is loathe to admit it, but he cannot argue the medical reasons for it. Mist Poisoning (no matter how mild) is not something one takes lightly, and he still coughs once in a while as the last of the dense powder is expelled from his lungs. The newest scars on his face still feel as if sunburnt, aggravated by the exposure to Mist, but such pain is easily ignored. The medicine is working on the last of it and he should be able to return to full duty by the morrow, but until then...

Well, here he is. Grounded.

As he turns his chair 90-degrees from his desk to look out the windows behind him, his aide walks into the office with an armful of papers stacked between his gauntleted hands. “Your Honor, the confirmations for the bonus--” He stops abruptly, realizing that the Judge of Reason has not even acknowledged him. He stands there for a moment, then slowly places the stack of papers down onto the desk. “Your Honor?”

Still Zargabaath ignores him, or at least gives a convincing appearance to that effect. It is a long few minutes before he finally speaks. “Judge Yuves.” The aide stiffens noticeably upon his titled name being invoked. “What do you remember of Ivalice's end?”

The aide lowers his helm as his head bows beneath it. “I remember standing on the Alexander's bridge next to you, sir, watching as land and sky alike disappeared into void. I remember darkness with eyes of solid gold consuming all in their path. I remember nothing after that... until we beheld Archades again, surrounded by reshaped land and foreign formations.”

“Aye. 'Tis the same for me as well.” The Judge of Reason's mouth purses, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. He leans back in his seat, interlacing fingers together over his stomach as he turns his head to look at the aide for the first time. “While our world was destroyed, we could only stand there helplessly and watch.” His gaze lowers, his interwoven hands tightening on his shirt from the memory. “We were angry. Lost. And no sooner did our nation recover their wits were we sent to Traverse Town for the first time.”

Judge Yuves flinches at that. “My conduct was unbecoming of my station, Your Honor. I--”

Zargabaath lifts his hand, requesting silence and receiving it immediately. “We were all compromised, emotionally and mentally. So blind was I in my own seething rage against those Heartless creatures that I too acted no better, far too harsh to those I met and exceeding my authority even beyond that. Even His Honor Bergan would have been a better example than I at the time.”

The aide steps forwards as if to protest, but the Judge of Reason continues on without pause, without giving the Judge a moment to speak. “It took time for all of us, myself included, to work through our pain... but 'tis why, when Manhattan was besieged by the forces of Darkness, I was called back here to answer for my actions and was rightfully punished accordingly.” His gaze slides to the side in his shame. “Even signs and portents were missed in my self-righteous anger.”

“Signs and portents?” The aide does his best to follow, but his voice indicates his confusion. “If I may be so bold, to what do you reference?”

The Judge of Reason shakes his head with a deep frown on his countenance. “I know not... not as of yet. Perhaps in time.” He straightens and turns fully back to his desk, rummaging around on the surface for a paper in particular. “You are still under the effects of the Yellow Card, I see. I fear I cannot remove it myself at this time,” he picks up a sheet and hands it to Judge Yuves, “but His Honor Ghis should be in port. Give him this paper and ask him to remove its effects on my behalf.” He grins faintly, a wan but fatherly smile. “Once that is completed, you may return to the 12th Fleet and resume your post. I should hope that you have learned your lesson.”

The aide takes the paper and bows deeply. “I have, Your Honor. Thank you.”

“Very good. Leave those forms there and I shall deal with them by the end of the day.” He waves a hand almost carelessly. “Dismissed.”

Judge Yuves salutes, makes an about-face, and departs from the room at a quick clip. Once the door closes behind him and the room falls into silence once more, the Judge of Reason releases a long sigh and lightly rubs the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Nothing is as it once was... Not for anyone...”

He clears the center of his desk, reorganizing papers on the edges for later perusal, then places new sheets of parchment in their place. He retrieves a writing utensil and ink, setting them to the side, and sits back in his chair in thought, staring at the blank pages. Recalling the faces and names of those he knows he has personally wronged over the past few months. “Perhaps... 'tis not too late to start anew.”

And with that, he picks up the pen and begins to write.

Zargabaath

2013-04-01T21:43:53Z

Gridkeeper:

{{Character Infobox
|firstname=Danael
|middlename=til
|lastname=Zargabaath
|age=early to mid 40's
|image=Zargabaath.jpg
|species=Human
|sex=Male
|height=6' (at least)
|weight=200 lbs. (armored)
|series=Final Fantasy 12
|styles=Judge Magister
|hometown=Archadia
|alignment=Wandering Force
|group=Archadian Empire
|occupation=Judge Magister
|quote="Power is tempered through wisdom."
|footer=A Judge Magister's work is never done.
}}
= Profile =

The definite voice of reason among the Judge Magisters, Zargabaath is a quiet and reserved man who few words are chosen with great wisdom and gravity. Much more moderate than his fellow Judge Magisters, Zargabaath sees military force as a necessary tool to be deployed with careful consideration and maximum efficiency. Zargabaath's keen judgment has served him well over the years, particularly by leading to his appointment as commander of the 12th Airship Fleet and its flagship, the Alexander. Zargabaath is difficult to provoke and lacks the hunger for battle of some of his allies--but this should not be seen as weakness. When the decision is made to commit to combat, he is a powerful opponent indeed.

= History =
Danael til Zargabaath was born in Lower Archades on October 21 to a happily married couple. His mother was a devout believer in the Light of Kiltia, identifying Faram as her patron god, and she taught the young boy everything there was to know of the religion. Though Zargabaath never truly identified himself as a believer, he still holds a deep appreciation for mythology and the Kiltian tenants.

His father, a hardworking soldier in the Archadian military, spent his free time training his young son in weaponry as soon as the boy was old enough to hold a dagger. The boy had promise as he grew, but his abilities seemed to gravitate to two styles in particular: the lance, as well as a sword-and-dagger combination that eventually grew into dual-wielding one short sword and one long sword. It was found early on in his life that he had no innate magical ability, so emphasis was placed on physical training instead. Zargabaath has always found this a blessing, as this allowed him to test numerous weapon proficiencies and craft his own style without the distraction magical training would have created.

The family bought their way into Upper Archades and the nobility therein by the time Zargabaath was eight years old. Zargabaath never forgot where he came from and how things work, nor did he ever forget the hard-working example his father provided for him. He honestly cared little for the higher-class life of nobility, preferring to practice his swordsmanship, but did his best to bear with it for the sake of his parents that had worked so hard to give him such a privilege. He was not a bad student, either, but he did endure some harassment from his peers due to his origin in Lower Archades. This interaction helped forge the young man into a calm, even-mannered individual.

When he reached adulthood, his father retired from the military due to injuries sustained in a skirmish. Zargabaath joined the military in his stead as a rank-and-file soldier, but found himself at an immediate disadvantage due to his lack of magical aptitude. He was lumped in with the far less skilled swordsmen of usually lower class and certainly lower maturity. As a result, his already calm demeanor had to undergo a slight alteration to 'set an example' for the others, though this usually isolated himself from them. It had the effect of getting his superiors to notice his much higher skill than his comrades at the time, however, and he was soon climbing the ladder of rank as equal to his more magickal contemporaries in such designations as Mystic Knights and Paladins.

As he rose in rank from soldier to officer, he learned the value of each life under his command and keen judgment in the face of adversity--but also learned tactfulness and the skills to alleviate disputes between commanders without making either side lose face. He found that silence and logic usually won out over the blustering of pampered officers who reached their rank by connections over skill.

Being able to navigate the politics of military command allowed him to eventually achieve a recommendation into the Judge Corp by the end of his twenties, and he proved quite capable of the increased responsibility. His commanding style not only saved Archadia much resources and manpower during the trying times of conflict, but also brought honor to the Solidor name. As a Judge, the reasons for his rise in rank became clear when amongst his peers and superiors: unafraid to be the devil's advocate, calming conflicting personalities by finding resolutions where no-one loses face, and displaying a steel will within a respectfully quiet demeanor even to those of higher rank than himself.

In order to even be considered for the rank of Judge Magister, however, he had to learn how to correctly use the magickal Judge Cards. Though it took him much time and practice, he eventually succeeded--even if the Judge Cards are the only feat of magick he can achieve, and highly limited at that. He indeed was promoted to Judge Magister at the next available position, and due to his exemplary service and loyalty, he was also assigned command of the 12th Fleet with the Alexander as his flagship.

He served through conflicts and peace, loss and gains alike—his love for his homeland absolute and loyalty to the House of Solidor and Senate alike unquestioned. It usually fell to him to test and train upcoming Judges when his fleet was not on a mission, and Judge Magister Gabranth himself is but one example. But increased tensions between the Rozarrian Empire and his homeland heralded the possiblity of war once again, and Zargabaath was prepared to obey orders accordingly. Thus, when Dalmasca was overrun and made an Archadian territory, tensions rose even higher as the two empires prepared to move against one another in a cold war just waiting for a reason.

Two years passed after the fall of Dalmasca, and Vayne Solidor was made Lord Consul of Rabanastre. Archades begin receiving reports of the world disappearing into a dark void as well as a strange gate opening in the heart of the Solidor Mansion. While Gabranth accompanied Vayne to the portal, Judge Magister Zargabaath remained outside. There was no warning before waves of shadow creatures with gold eyes swarmed over the land, consuming everything they touched. Zargabaath could only watch from the skies as New Ivalice fell, temporarily losing track of time and space at the end of it. The next thing he knows, what little that remains of their world has merged with others into a brand new world...

= Relationships =
===Friends===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Gabranth]]||Trust||My fellow Judge Magister, though a young man with much anger and darkness within him. I trust him with my life and my crew, so long as he maintains control of himself.
|-
|}

===Allies===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Cirra Constantine]]||Interest||A young Judge who is proving herself quite admirably as of late. I will have to keep an eye on her.
|-
|[[Riku]]||Concern||One so young should never have darkness so deep. He has much potential, I admit, but he will be swallowed by what lies within if nothing is done.
|-
|}

===Acquaintances===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Aerith Gainsborough]]||Neutral|| A woman that wished to learn how to fight, yet has magic that rivals the most powerful mages I've ever seen. A very kind soul as well.
|-
|[[Faruja Senra]]||Neutral||An extremely pious mouse that fights on the side of light and against the heartless. That's good enough for me.
|-
|[[Angantyr Vespar]]||Wary||A Dark Knight who keeps beating his chest at the Arcadian Empire over the dishonors done to his country. Clearly, he will make us pay in blood if he can.
|-
|}

===Enemies===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|Heartless||Disgust||The more I learn of these... things, the less I like. I fear there are those amongst our ranks who would use these abominations for their own ends. I, however, refuse to let them near the 12th Fleet.
|-
|}

= Pictures =

[[File:Zargabaath_Armored.jpg|105px|Fully Armored]] [[File:Zargabaath-FFXII.png|200px|Without the Helmet]] [[File:Casual_Zargabaath.jpg|145px|Casual (Rare!)]]

*NOTE: As of the scene "Of Will And Shadow", Zargabaath has four faint scars over the right side of his face, fanning out from chin to beyond the hairline. These are so faint as to be barely noticeable to a casual observer.

= Logs =
{{Character Logs}}
= Cutscenes =
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Zargabaath

2013-04-01T21:35:25Z

Gridkeeper: /* Enemies */

{{Character Infobox
|firstname=Danael
|middlename=til
|lastname=Zargabaath
|age=early to mid 40's
|image=Zargabaath.jpg
|species=Human
|sex=Male
|height=6' (at least)
|weight=200 lbs. (armored)
|series=Final Fantasy 12
|styles=Judge Magister
|hometown=Archadia
|alignment=Wandering Force
|group=Archadian Empire
|occupation=Judge Magister
|quote="Power is tempered through wisdom."
|footer=A Judge Magister's work is never done.
}}
= Profile =

The definite voice of reason among the Judge Magisters, Zargabaath is a quiet and reserved man who few words are chosen with great wisdom and gravity. Much more moderate than his fellow Judge Magisters, Zargabaath sees military force as a necessary tool to be deployed with careful consideration and maximum efficiency. Zargabaath's keen judgment has served him well over the years, particularly by leading to his appointment as commander of the 12th Airship Fleet and its flagship, the Alexander. Zargabaath is difficult to provoke and lacks the hunger for battle of some of his allies--but this should not be seen as weakness. When the decision is made to commit to combat, he is a powerful opponent indeed.

= History =
Danael til Zargabaath was born in Lower Archades to a happily married couple. His mother was a devout believer in the Light of Kiltia, identifying Faram as her patron god, and she taught the young boy everything there was to know of the religion. Though Zargabaath never truly identified himself as a believer, he still holds a deep appreciation for mythology and the Kiltian tenants.

His father, a hardworking soldier in the Archadian military, spent his free time training his young son in weaponry as soon as the boy was old enough to hold a dagger. The boy had promise as he grew, but his abilities seemed to gravitate to two styles in particular: the lance, as well as a sword-and-dagger combination that eventually grew into dual-wielding one short sword and one long sword. It was found early on in his life that he had no innate magical ability, so emphasis was placed on physical training instead. Zargabaath has always found this a blessing, as this allowed him to test numerous weapon proficiencies and craft his own style without the distraction magical training would have created.

The family bought their way into Upper Archades and the nobility therein by the time Zargabaath was eight years old. Zargabaath never forgot where he came from and how things work, nor did he ever forget the hard-working example his father provided for him. He honestly cared little for the higher-class life of nobility, preferring to practice his swordsmanship, but did his best to bear with it for the sake of his parents that had worked so hard to give him such a privilege. He was not a bad student, either, but he did endure some harassment from his peers due to his origin in Lower Archades. This interaction helped forge the young man into a calm, even-mannered individual.

When he reached adulthood, his father retired from the military due to injuries sustained in a skirmish. Zargabaath joined the military in his stead as a rank-and-file soldier, but found himself at an immediate disadvantage due to his lack of magical aptitude. He was lumped in with the far less skilled swordsmen of usually lower class and certainly lower maturity. As a result, his already calm demeanor had to undergo a slight alteration to 'set an example' for the others, though this usually isolated himself from them. It had the effect of getting his superiors to notice his much higher skill than his comrades at the time, however, and he was soon climbing the ladder of rank as equal to his more magickal contemporaries in such designations as Mystic Knights and Paladins.

As he rose in rank from soldier to officer, he learned the value of each life under his command and keen judgment in the face of adversity--but also learned tactfulness and the skills to alleviate disputes between commanders without making either side lose face. He found that silence and logic usually won out over the blustering of pampered officers who reached their rank by connections over skill.

Being able to navigate the politics of military command allowed him to eventually achieve a recommendation into the Judge Corp by the end of his twenties, and he proved quite capable of the increased responsibility. His commanding style not only saved Archadia much resources and manpower during the trying times of conflict, but also brought honor to the Solidor name. As a Judge, the reasons for his rise in rank became clear when amongst his peers and superiors: unafraid to be the devil's advocate, calming conflicting personalities by finding resolutions where no-one loses face, and displaying a steel will within a respectfully quiet demeanor even to those of higher rank than himself.

In order to even be considered for the rank of Judge Magister, however, he had to learn how to correctly use the magickal Judge Cards. Though it took him much time and practice, he eventually succeeded--even if the Judge Cards are the only feat of magick he can achieve, and highly limited at that. He indeed was promoted to Judge Magister at the next available position, and due to his exemplary service and loyalty, he was also assigned command of the 12th Fleet with the Alexander as his flagship.

He served through conflicts and peace, loss and gains alike—his love for his homeland absolute and loyalty to the House of Solidor and Senate alike unquestioned. It usually fell to him to test and train upcoming Judges when his fleet was not on a mission, and Judge Magister Gabranth himself is but one example. But increased tensions between the Rozarrian Empire and his homeland heralded the possiblity of war once again, and Zargabaath was prepared to obey orders accordingly. Thus, when Dalmasca was overrun and made an Archadian territory, tensions rose even higher as the two empires prepared to move against one another in a cold war just waiting for a reason.

Two years passed after the fall of Dalmasca, and Vayne Solidor was made Lord Consul of Rabanastre. Archades begin receiving reports of the world disappearing into a dark void as well as a strange gate opening in the heart of the Solidor Mansion. While Gabranth accompanied Vayne to the portal, Judge Magister Zargabaath remained outside. There was no warning before waves of shadow creatures with gold eyes swarmed over the land, consuming everything they touched. Zargabaath could only watch from the skies as New Ivalice fell, temporarily losing track of time and space at the end of it. The next thing he knows, what little that remains of their world has merged with others into a brand new world...

= Relationships =
===Friends===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Gabranth]]||Trust||My fellow Judge Magister, though a young man with much anger and darkness within him. I trust him with my life and my crew, so long as he maintains control of himself.
|-
|}

===Allies===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Cirra Constantine]]||Interest||A young Judge who is proving herself quite admirably as of late. I will have to keep an eye on her.
|-
|[[Riku]]||Concern||One so young should never have darkness so deep. He has much potential, I admit, but he will be swallowed by what lies within if nothing is done.
|-
|}

===Acquaintances===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Aerith Gainsborough]]||Neutral|| A woman that wished to learn how to fight, yet has magic that rivals the most powerful mages I've ever seen. A very kind soul as well.
|-
|[[Faruja Senra]]||Neutral||An extremely pious mouse that fights on the side of light and against the heartless. That's good enough for me.
|-
|[[Angantyr Vespar]]||Wary||A Dark Knight who keeps beating his chest at the Arcadian Empire over the dishonors done to his country. Clearly, he will make us pay in blood if he can.
|-
|}

===Enemies===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|Heartless||Disgust||The more I learn of these... things, the less I like. I fear there are those amongst our ranks who would use these abominations for their own ends. I, however, refuse to let them near the 12th Fleet.
|-
|}

= Pictures =

[[File:Zargabaath_Armored.jpg|105px|Fully Armored]] [[File:Zargabaath-FFXII.png|200px|Without the Helmet]] [[File:Casual_Zargabaath.jpg|145px|Casual (Rare!)]]

*NOTE: As of the scene "Of Will And Shadow", Zargabaath has four faint scars over the right side of his face, fanning out from chin to beyond the hairline. These are so faint as to be barely noticeable to a casual observer.

= Logs =
{{Character Logs}}
= Cutscenes =
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Zargabaath

2013-04-01T21:34:00Z

Gridkeeper: Added History, a few touch-ups

{{Character Infobox
|firstname=Danael
|middlename=til
|lastname=Zargabaath
|age=early to mid 40's
|image=Zargabaath.jpg
|species=Human
|sex=Male
|height=6' (at least)
|weight=200 lbs. (armored)
|series=Final Fantasy 12
|styles=Judge Magister
|hometown=Archadia
|alignment=Wandering Force
|group=Archadian Empire
|occupation=Judge Magister
|quote="Power is tempered through wisdom."
|footer=A Judge Magister's work is never done.
}}
= Profile =

The definite voice of reason among the Judge Magisters, Zargabaath is a quiet and reserved man who few words are chosen with great wisdom and gravity. Much more moderate than his fellow Judge Magisters, Zargabaath sees military force as a necessary tool to be deployed with careful consideration and maximum efficiency. Zargabaath's keen judgment has served him well over the years, particularly by leading to his appointment as commander of the 12th Airship Fleet and its flagship, the Alexander. Zargabaath is difficult to provoke and lacks the hunger for battle of some of his allies--but this should not be seen as weakness. When the decision is made to commit to combat, he is a powerful opponent indeed.

= History =
Danael til Zargabaath was born in Lower Archades to a happily married couple. His mother was a devout believer in the Light of Kiltia, identifying Faram as her patron god, and she taught the young boy everything there was to know of the religion. Though Zargabaath never truly identified himself as a believer, he still holds a deep appreciation for mythology and the Kiltian tenants.

His father, a hardworking soldier in the Archadian military, spent his free time training his young son in weaponry as soon as the boy was old enough to hold a dagger. The boy had promise as he grew, but his abilities seemed to gravitate to two styles in particular: the lance, as well as a sword-and-dagger combination that eventually grew into dual-wielding one short sword and one long sword. It was found early on in his life that he had no innate magical ability, so emphasis was placed on physical training instead. Zargabaath has always found this a blessing, as this allowed him to test numerous weapon proficiencies and craft his own style without the distraction magical training would have created.

The family bought their way into Upper Archades and the nobility therein by the time Zargabaath was eight years old. Zargabaath never forgot where he came from and how things work, nor did he ever forget the hard-working example his father provided for him. He honestly cared little for the higher-class life of nobility, preferring to practice his swordsmanship, but did his best to bear with it for the sake of his parents that had worked so hard to give him such a privilege. He was not a bad student, either, but he did endure some harassment from his peers due to his origin in Lower Archades. This interaction helped forge the young man into a calm, even-mannered individual.

When he reached adulthood, his father retired from the military due to injuries sustained in a skirmish. Zargabaath joined the military in his stead as a rank-and-file soldier, but found himself at an immediate disadvantage due to his lack of magical aptitude. He was lumped in with the far less skilled swordsmen of usually lower class and certainly lower maturity. As a result, his already calm demeanor had to undergo a slight alteration to 'set an example' for the others, though this usually isolated himself from them. It had the effect of getting his superiors to notice his much higher skill than his comrades at the time, however, and he was soon climbing the ladder of rank as equal to his more magickal contemporaries in such designations as Mystic Knights and Paladins.

As he rose in rank from soldier to officer, he learned the value of each life under his command and keen judgment in the face of adversity--but also learned tactfulness and the skills to alleviate disputes between commanders without making either side lose face. He found that silence and logic usually won out over the blustering of pampered officers who reached their rank by connections over skill.

Being able to navigate the politics of military command allowed him to eventually achieve a recommendation into the Judge Corp by the end of his twenties, and he proved quite capable of the increased responsibility. His commanding style not only saved Archadia much resources and manpower during the trying times of conflict, but also brought honor to the Solidor name. As a Judge, the reasons for his rise in rank became clear when amongst his peers and superiors: unafraid to be the devil's advocate, calming conflicting personalities by finding resolutions where no-one loses face, and displaying a steel will within a respectfully quiet demeanor even to those of higher rank than himself.

In order to even be considered for the rank of Judge Magister, however, he had to learn how to correctly use the magickal Judge Cards. Though it took him much time and practice, he eventually succeeded--even if the Judge Cards are the only feat of magick he can achieve, and highly limited at that. He indeed was promoted to Judge Magister at the next available position, and due to his exemplary service and loyalty, he was also assigned command of the 12th Fleet with the Alexander as his flagship.

He served through conflicts and peace, loss and gains alike—his love for his homeland absolute and loyalty to the House of Solidor and Senate alike unquestioned. It usually fell to him to test and train upcoming Judges when his fleet was not on a mission, and Judge Magister Gabranth himself is but one example. But increased tensions between the Rozarrian Empire and his homeland heralded the possiblity of war once again, and Zargabaath was prepared to obey orders accordingly. Thus, when Dalmasca was overrun and made an Archadian territory, tensions rose even higher as the two empires prepared to move against one another in a cold war just waiting for a reason.

Two years passed after the fall of Dalmasca, and Vayne Solidor was made Lord Consul of Rabanastre. Archades begin receiving reports of the world disappearing into a dark void as well as a strange gate opening in the heart of the Solidor Mansion. While Gabranth accompanied Vayne to the portal, Judge Magister Zargabaath remained outside. There was no warning before waves of shadow creatures with gold eyes swarmed over the land, consuming everything they touched. Zargabaath could only watch from the skies as New Ivalice fell, temporarily losing track of time and space at the end of it. The next thing he knows, what little that remains of their world has merged with others into a brand new world...

= Relationships =
===Friends===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Gabranth]]||Trust||My fellow Judge Magister, though a young man with much anger and darkness within him. I trust him with my life and my crew, so long as he maintains control of himself.
|-
|}

===Allies===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Cirra Constantine]]||Interest||A young Judge who is proving herself quite admirably as of late. I will have to keep an eye on her.
|-
|[[Riku]]||Concern||One so young should never have darkness so deep. He has much potential, I admit, but he will be swallowed by what lies within if nothing is done.
|-
|}

===Acquaintances===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Aerith Gainsborough]]||Neutral|| A woman that wished to learn how to fight, yet has magic that rivals the most powerful mages I've ever seen. A very kind soul as well.
|-
|[[Faruja Senra]]||Neutral||An extremely pious mouse that fights on the side of light and against the heartless. That's good enough for me.
|-
|[[Angantyr Vespar]]||Wary||A Dark Knight who keeps beating his chest at the Arcadian Empire over the dishonors done to his country. Clearly, he will make us pay in blood if he can.
|-
|}

===Enemies===
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|Heartless||Disgust||The more I hear about these... things, the less I like. I fear there are those amongst our ranks who would use these abominations for their own ends. I, however, refuse to let them near the 12th Fleet.
|-
|}

= Pictures =

[[File:Zargabaath_Armored.jpg|105px|Fully Armored]] [[File:Zargabaath-FFXII.png|200px|Without the Helmet]] [[File:Casual_Zargabaath.jpg|145px|Casual (Rare!)]]

*NOTE: As of the scene "Of Will And Shadow", Zargabaath has four faint scars over the right side of his face, fanning out from chin to beyond the hairline. These are so faint as to be barely noticeable to a casual observer.

= Logs =
{{Character Logs}}
= Cutscenes =
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Reforging Darkness

2013-03-27T22:32:09Z

Gridkeeper: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/03/27 |Location=Palamecia |Synopsis=The Dark Knight returns home to repair his armor and issue a report of his findings to his master, Emperor..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/03/27
|Location=Palamecia
|Synopsis=The Dark Knight returns home to repair his armor and issue a report of his findings to his master, Emperor Mateus. But due to its composition, the armor cannot be restored by craftsmanship alone...
|Cast of Characters=Emperor Mateus, Leon
|pretty=Yes
}}
:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' Palamecia Empire, home of the dark nation of Pamaecia and there majestic leader, Emperor Mateus. Several days ago, the Emperor sent out his Dark Knight, along with a handful of troops in order to explore the new world and worlds. In this exploration to also test those of Light and perhaps even some of darkness to see how strong the people were. He was to return as needed and it would seem the Dark Knight has indeed returned. A dark Portal opens up within the castle before the Dark Knight stepped out last night. His armor was battered, the darkness around him swirling with aggravation and perhaps even hunger. A piece of of his helm horn chopped off and his leather burnt. It seemed the Dark Knight entered a very deadly conflict, yet he remained alive. As of this morning though, the Dark Knight waits in one of the rooms for his armor to be finished, his helm no longer on his head. The face was youthful, that one would expect on a young adult male, maybe no younger then eighteen, perhaps no older then twenty one. His hair was a dark bluish purple, and his eyes with that reddish hue in them still. The hair was short and kept rather well. Maybe just a little bit spiky, with some hair growing down the side of his face beside his ear. His eyes stared at nothing, just looking at the ground where he sat. Like a puppet who's strings were not attached and just waiting for his master to pull the strings once more to give him life. Yet as one of the soldiers walked by. Those red eyes glanced up slightly to watch them walk, before his gaze moved back to the floor once more.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' It takes time for such armor to be restored to full strength. Leather to be resewn, armor to be reforged, Darkness to be recontained. It is a special set of armor, created by Palamecian craftsmanship and Shadow Lord command. Fortunately, craftsmanship in this land is nothing if not efficient. The first part of rebuilding the physical armor itself was completed quickly enough over the past 12 hours. But the next part, the part that requires both Emperor and Dark Knight, has taken longer than that to prepare. And Mateus has seen to that personally. The Emperor strides down the hallway, adorned in his purple-and-golden armor with his staff nowhere in sight. Flanked on both sides are two soldiers, who seem to deal with the opening of doors and clearing the halls of those whom would otherwise be in his way. They pause briefly at the doors into one of the private rooms and Mateus glances in as the door is opened, regarding his unarmored Dark Knight accordingly. "It is time," Mateus states, the tone cool and emotionless. "I would like to hear your report as we walk."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight's gaze moves up as the doors begin to open and already the man moves to stand up before Mateus even speaks a word. There was the puppet master before him and so, the Dark Knight moves once more. He bows his head respectfully to Mateus, and soon his body follows the proper motions. His gaze remaining off Mateus, even as he speaks, he does not look up upon Mateus face. "As you wish, my Emperor." And soon comes to stand slightly behind the Emperor. As they walk, the Dark Knight removes a leather bound book off his back belt connected by a chain so it can't be taken. He unlatches the book, then opens the dark lock over it with a simple hand gesture. He then goes to flip to the page. It would see he keeps a very good deal of detail notes on hand at all times. "I have currently run into eight individuals of light and one of darkness declaring they are of light. Each of them scale differently to one another, but most of them show great promise to the light or are classifications of average light in their hearts." The Dark Knight explains, as he flips a page. "Where would his Emperor wish for me to start?"

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' The guards stagger their formation, one leading and one following as Emperor and Dark Knight walk side-by-side with master ahead by a step. Mateus himself does not regard his servant any longer than nessisary, continuing on down the hall as if he had not paused. He does not respond right away, but does allow a slight smirk to cross his face. He is already satisfied with the Dark Knight's progress, or at least with the number of individuals he has encountered over the past week. "Start with those closest to Darkness, and continue until you reach the person or persons closest to the Light."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' "As you wish." The Dark Knight responds as his red eyes gaze down at the pages with his written notes on them. There was a side note on the side. One he was not sure how to explain to Mateus and as such was not sure where to sit them at. He studied that name for a moment, before he at last started to speak as the walked. His voice calm with each word spoken with clarity. "The first is Dark One. A young female warrior who has not yet hit adulthood. She was once, by her decree, part of the Shadow Lords. She believes that darkness no longer has control of her heart. Yet her actions spoke against her own words." "The next is Light Three. An assassin. He uses a mutt in order to tag team in combat, so that you will be distracted by his canine companion, while he attempts to strike out. I am unsure how well Light Three can operate if the dog was removed. He also seems to have little care for the civilians around him as it would appear it was his dog that brought him into the conflict." The Dark Knight stares at the side notation again, his eyes narrow slightly, before he continues on with his main notes. "Light One, Two, Four and Five run around the same scale. They are moderate on the scale. Quick to act to trouble, quick to handle the trouble. One seeming not of this world, another an elemental using monk, another a viera dragoon who had been touched by outside darkness, and.. then the last is a healer, Light One. She has a deep well of magic potential but is heavily untapped. She uses alchemy instead of her magic. As it seems to her holy magic can easily go out of control." The Dark Knight glances up for only a moment. "I was able to obtain one of these vials for further study if my Emperor wishes for our alchemists to research into it." then the Dark Knight goes to continue form his book. "The next is someone by the name of Dragoon Man. I heard Light One call out his name. He is heroic and rather powerful. He moved himself several times to protect the others and was not swayed by darkness easily. I do plan, like Light One, to seek them out again. Perhaps to capture Light One to see if this Dragoon Man will respond to her cries of help." "The final is whom I have dubbed the Maiden of Light. She is a fire mage, but her heart seems nearly pure. When given the choice to continue to fight or be merciful. While her other comrades continued to fight. She got down on her knees and begged for Mercy, for the battle to stop and showing all signs of desiring that Mercy to be placed upon them. Her actions were of honesty." The Dark Knight seems to gaze at something again. "..There is.. also one more if I have yet to title.." The Dark Knight's words come across unsure for once, maybe a hint of being uneasy. "I will require to seek them out later in order to fully understand there place and thus I have no precise data on them at this time." He then snaps the book shut, before waving his hand over it once more to lock it yet again. Then rehook it to the chain on the back of his belt.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus listens closely and silently, reserving any comment or question until the Dark Knight completes the run-down. Then again, even as the Dark Knight puts away the book, the Emperor folds his hands behind the small of his back and says nothing as they continue walking, reaching a long spiral staircase heading downwards. When he finally does speak, he sounds... almost disappointed. "So be it, then. Endeavor to find the names of those you have encountered or will encounter, but continue as you have done. You have done well, and I look forward to more results." He rubs his chin with one hand. "The one you claim was once one of our own is... disturbing news. Betrayal cannot be taken lightly." He chuckles softly, an unkind 'fufufu' sound. "But this 'Maiden of Light'... how intriguing that there is still one with such a strong alignment..." They reach the bottom of the stairs and enter a grand foyer, with a magic circle in the center with the Dark Knight's repaired armor placed on a display stand. It looks... surprisingly normal for Palamecian armor, considering the reputation it is beginning to receive. "Adorn your armor, Dark Knight." He walks to a dias as his staff appears floating in front of his hand. "All are waiting."

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The man known as the Dark Knight follows the Emperor down, he does not speak any further after he has covered anything. He picks up the disappointment in Mateus voice and only raises a brow slightly at the tone. Yet it was not his to ask. If the Emperor wish to speak further, he would do so. The Dark Knight then stares at his armor finished. Those red eyes staring at it before he gives a polite bow to Mateus. "As you command, my Emperor." He then stands up tall once more before his foot steps onto the magic circle, entering into it. His hand out reaching for the armor parts of metal and leather. Armor is pulled on, snapped into place, leather adjusted, and boots snugged on tight. Gloves fixed against his finger tips, with the bracer worn right. Each piece of armor fitting how it needed and where it should always remain. The shoulder pauldrons coming to rest on each shoulder as the cape itself seem to suddenly extend out like dark magic itself summon the leathery material to hang down almost to the ground. He flexes his fingers once more to test to make sure everything was fitting correctly, before he reaches up and picks up the helm. His red eyes stare upon it, looking into the dark, haunting, polished surface. Then turning it around in his hands, he lifts up the helm and slowly places it over his head, before snapping it to the leather neck guard. Soon those red eyes gleam out form the darkness of the helm. Glowing dim at first, before they start to glow more brightly.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus waits patiently as the Dark Knight armors up completely, already perfectly poised on his dias at the 'top' of the magical circle. The guards did not follow them down, instead guarding the top of the stairs with standing orders to not allow anyone through whatsoever, no matter how urgent. This is quite dangerous to the unprepared, after all. Once the Dark Knight is fully armored and still, Mateus begins to chant as he holds both hands in front of him and his staff spins just beyond the fingertips. Slowly at first, but building momentum and speed to impossible maintenance by physical twirling alone until it is just a blur. Dark energy, almost glowing like a blacklight around the edges, begin to bleed like ink into the engraved circle. There is no sudden building of energy nor raising of volumes, as one would sterotypically expect with such a ritual. The room almost seems to drop in temperature as what few candles and torches disappear into the Darkness, leaving only the outline of the magic circle, the Dark Knight at the center, and Mateus just outside the boundary. Mateus lifts his arms, the staff still spinning with a purplish-black glow emitting from the gem at the top. There is no pause in the chanting, nor is there a pause in movement to indicate the point of no return. Only the staff stopping its movement, clawed end glinting wickedly in the Darkness while pointing at the Dark Knight as wispy purplish-black flames emit from the gem like a heatwave. "IMBIBE." The staff comes down directly in front of the Emperor, the claws disappearing into the darkness itself, and the darkness contained in the array's circle is sucked into the armor itself like a vaccum. Mingling with the Dark Knight's own inner darkness, calling it forth, tempering and saturating metal and leather alike.

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight stands in the circle. His red eyes do not move, they do not even blink. As the temperature drops and the room darkness beyond the glowing emblem under him. He stands there perfectly still. Until the words are spoken loudly by Mateus and then it starts. It always starts here. Darkness calls to darkness. The very threads of darkness weave out and bind into the armor, pulling on the summoned energy from the void and from the very darkness with the man who is the Dark Knight; within Leon. The two clashing, binding the metal to the very soul of the man. It was always a painful experience. The only time pain is felt as it rips and pulls. The Darkness wanting to consume Leon's heart. Wanting to break him down. The rush of the hunger, the rush of the needed power. The clouding of the mind for a moment. So many things that could go wrong in this very moment in time. One could want to scream. Leon though, Leon would not scream. It was will, will is what kept one from falling into the darkness; fully being devoured by it. A strong heart, a strong will. Or so it was told. The darkness around the Dark Knight's armor starts to still, giving it that look it carries, the gold almost hard to see. The armored figure falling down to one knee as his hand rests on his other knee. His head bowed over as the cape has moved around his figure. The armor blurs for a moment before it stills. The red eyes missing in the darkness of the helm, as they are closed shut. No movement. Barely even a breath could be heard from the helm. Just stillness now. Calm, quiet, stillness from the armored figure.

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Silence descends on the room as the Darkness fades, torchlight and candlelight winking into existance like newly born stars. But Emperor Mateus gives no regard to the return of light, his eyes focused entirely upon the kneeling armored form of the man under his command. Silence continues even as the Emperor's feet lift off of the dias, the staff disintegrating in a misty cloud of Darkness even as he drifts through it. Breaching the now-inert boundary of the magic circle, halting his forward movement at a rough midway point between the armored man and the boundary. Too far away for a swipe, but enough time to move if there is a lunge. Emperor Mateus gives no chance for an error in judgement when it comes to weaving the very Darkness itself. He knows far better than to allow such naivety. Still hovering in place, gaze still pinned upon the Dark Knight like a hawk upon prey, Mateus' voice finally breaks the silence with a sharp, stiffly-issued command: "Proclaim yourself. Who are you? What is your purpose?"

:'''[[Leon]] has posed:''' The Dark Knight doesn't move right away. He continues to stay knelt. Those eyes remain shut. The breathing still almost impossible to hear even as Mateus words break the silence in the chamber. Yet, still no reply. Not at first. Yet the head slowly rises, a stir of slow movement. There was at last a breath, a sign of life indeed behind that armor before words were spoken in the echo of the helm. That deep voice once more coming to life. "I am the Dark Knight. Loyal servant to my Emperor. Commander of the Palamecia Military. My life, belongs to you my one and only true lord." His eyes remained close as he speaks those words and his head lowers down slightly. "I only live to serve you, my Emperor."

:'''[[Emperor Mateus]] has posed:''' Emperor Mateus smiles, though the feeling one would get from it is anything but a real smile. Cold, cruel, and self-satisfied. It is done. Just as it was then, so it is now. He lifts one hand, his fingertips sheathed in wispy purplish flame, and gently touches the visor of the Dark Knight's helm. Yes, the darkness is still swirling, still realigning, but the ritual was successfully completed. "Rise, my Dark Knight. Eat well, rest, then return to your duties."