Difference between revisions of "A Well Read Meeting"

Revision as of 06:55, 7 December 2012

Seith has posed:
The library of the Hollow Bastion is always lit throughout the hours; time doesn't seem to move within this massive castle. And most of the times, there is at least one occupant of this place. Or at least, far more commonly than one might expect a library to contain people, especially for a castle that had so few members that live within.

Standing at the bottom floor, near the open area of tables and chairs, a tall man stands along with a large canvas before him, as well as an assortment of painting equipment. The canvas is dark - painted with a rich and deep black taken from the 'plate' in his right hand, and brought with refined stroke by the left hand's brush. "Hrrm..." The man makes a sound, before twitching the brush's hand.

Immediately, the library's shelves move. It's quite amazing to watch them roll around, shifting and moving like puzzle pieces amidst a grand puzzle, cutting off paths and making new ones, until finally a bookshelf moves itself close to him and a book leaps out and hovers onto the table. It opens to a page, which shows a wolf of sorts against the backdrop of a moon. The page flips, as if possessed, while the man just mildly twitches that brush as if it were a wand. Flip, the moon.

The man then looks up and out the windows of the library, and sees the twilight skies. No moon. It lacked what was in the book. And so he gazes back down to the book, mixes his brush with the palette's white, and begins to slowly draw a small outline to form the distant horizon... and then a massive full moon to the backdrop of the painting itself. The background; before the foreground.

Hati has posed:
As darkness begins to stretch over Hollow Bastian, the shadows stretch long through the hallways. Normally, Hati would have retired back to her master's lands to hunt - to stretch her legs and race the coming night. Lately, though, she'd felt restless and unsettled. It has been months since Serrak's disappearance, and now she had discovered that there were other missing Shadow Lords. Had they gone off together somewhere on a secret mission? Or had something far darker captured them... or worse?

The worst thing for the wolf is that without Serrak's magic, her memories had started to return. They came to her in dreams that kept her from sleeping, or haunted her days when people mentioned names, or places. It's an eerie feeling - like being chased by something that is part of you and that you know there is no real escape from. It had been years since she lived that life, and she had worked tirelessly to become strong. The anger left behind had fueled her to be one of the strongest of the Shadow Lords' apprentices, but the truth of her past is something she's going to have to face, and soon.

So, with the night offering no peace for her, the wolf stalks the hallways, prowling like the beastial creature that she is. Even in this more humanoid body, she still /felt/ like a wolf. There is that impression of the cold stone beneath her paws, even if all that shows her passing is the nearly inaudible tread of boots.

Who knows what it is that brings her past the library. Maybe it is inevitable that she would come here in her wanderings, or maybe something had drawn her here. Some of Serrak's books certainly lined the shelves, and perhaps they held a clue to where he might have gone. However, that thought ends up flitting from her mind the moment she sees the movement of the shelves. This is a sort of magic that is well beyond her. She could do some of Serrak's most basic spells - enough that she still was useful as his apprentice, but not so much that the more powerful Shadow Lords didn't grumble about the loss of such an expert in the dark arts.

This one isn't familiar to her, and her nose twitches, mismatched eyes peering to get a look at the sorcerer. She's quiet. Wolves are not stealthy night-time hunters for nothing, and Hati moves into the room with nearly no sound but her own breathing. She looks past the tall man to the painting, craning to see and then giving up on that task in favor of a quick hop onto a nearby table, where she can crouch and be better at eye-level. The wolf doesn't speak, but she lingers there, watching.

Seith has posed:
Serrak was a man who had disappeared a little after the time that Seith had 'made' Fiell's master disappear. There's some rumors surrounding him, and it's not impossible that she had heard of him at least once had she asked where Serrak was. But seeing as she had yet to interact with this dark sorcerer, that may have been but a recent development. The man appears not to notice her in the least as she sneaks through the passages that are the bookshelves, remaining still for a while as this man paints the moon upon his canvas.

It is when he is done, drawn in an eery white, that he looks back to the book again. He makes very little sound, there's just the natural effects of cloth lifting against his armor when his body shifts. "Such a beautiful moon." He does whisper when she gets closer, "But it is alone in the sky..." He turns back to the canvas, lifting the brush, and drawing some clouds... they're faint, but add to the eerie effect of complete black... with just that moon and the thin horrizon.

Then, when there is finally the sound of Hati climbing onto the table, that the man taps the brush to his shoulder... and turns his body around. "What do you think this canvas needs?" He asks her, without introducing himself, or even asking her to introduce herself. A moment of thought later, he adds; "After all, I feel you would answer that question best."

Hati has posed:
There were plenty of rumors that circulated through the Shadow Lords, and certainly this mage would have begun to get some of the requests that used to fall on to Serrak's shoulders. For all the time that he had been gone, the stocks of reagents are still fresh, a clear sign that someone still works to collect them, even if the greater ritual places here in Hollow Bastian remain eerily empty.

She is not fool enough to think that he wouldn't notice her, but her stealth is a natural way of movement. The with the spine had mistaken it for being the movements of someone trying to harm her, but it is the sort of thing that comes with the being that she is, without the understanding of how uncomfortable it might make others. Her eyes easily catch the moon, and though he cannot see them in that moment, there is a longing there. The White Wolf still runs in her dreams - still becons her forward. The moon is the White Wolf's symbol, and the spirit that calls a wolf to sing.

As he turns, the wolf is still as a statue. It's easy to imagine her as a real wolf, sitting stark still against a frozen landscape, easy to miss if your eyes move over in just the right way, but no less dangerous for all her quiet watchfulness. Her nose twitches ever so slightly. Compared to the Elf, she's quite short, but crouching there on the table at least puts her at eye level. He's a beautiful creature, this one - but her mind rarely registers such things for very long.

Instead, she just listens, those ears of hers swiveling to catch the sound of his voice. "A lone wolf, singing to the moon." Hati's voice is quiet, somewhat unused to talking to others in settings like this, and it is a library, afterall. "Yet no matter how she calls, there is never an answer. It always remains just out of reach." The wolf's eyes are on the moon - not the real one, but the one as portrayed in the painting. All these years of searching, and she hadn't a single lead to go on but her mother's story.

Seith has posed:
"Hrrm..." The man's deep green eyes look the girl over as she sits there like a statue. One might mistake her for a gargoyle, were it not for a lack of wings... and the presence of strange color to her. Her hair, the freckles, the dark blacks and blues. It all 'fits' somehow on the canvas of this girl's body. Yet something is amiss. The man continues to stare at her for a moment longer, touching the brush to one of those horns of his, before he turns.

"That's a lonely picture, you would have me paint." He then speaks, "Do /you/ venture yourself a lone wolf, unable to ever reach that moon?" He asks, before adding; "Please, remain still like that."

And so, time begins to pass. He begins to paint, adding colors to the canvas as if it were a play. He's gotten good at this, adding browns and blacks, painting a wolf seated at the bottom of the image, howling up at the lonely moon. "Don't you think it's the other way around as well though? The moon shines its light upon the lonely wolf... yet its light is all it can touch the wolf with." He continues to paint.

Then, when he gets closer to being done, he adds something else; "A lonely moon, sharing its light to the wolf. And the wolf, sharing its howl to the moon. Both reaching out, yet never touching. Perhaps this painting needs something else..." He finishes drawing the wolf, and steps back. Another flick of the brush, and the library comes to life again.

Shelves move, books return to their places, and then suddenly, the man takes the palest white he can find on the canvas, and dips his brush. "A faint thing..." He whispers, and begins to draw stars to the skies. Pale stars... that seem to have a flow to them. From the horizon to the moon, he draws them up. Some closer to one-another than others...

There. When he's done, it becomes clear. He's drawn a 'stairway' of stars at the horizon, leading to the moon. "Hope. Faint, and only within grasp if the wolf dares to travel beyond their home. Perhaps it will betray them, perhaps moving towards the stars will just betray her... or perhaps... she will find the bridge to her stars."

Then again, he turns to Hati. "Serrak's apprentice, am I correct?" He then asks, and grabs a book from the shelves that he'd moved earlier. It's one of Serrak's books, written on the basis of 'dreams'. "I do not know your name, but I know he has one."

Hati has posed:
There might be some similarities between this girl and one of those characatures in stone - so often, artists have tried to capture a wolf in stone or canvas, but that fierce, still intensity is something that can only really be appreciated when seen in person. She doesn't have the golden eyes that come with most wolves, but mismatched green and blue. Even with their softer color, it doesn't cause those eyes to look any less predatory.

Rather than answering his question, Hati simply turns it back to him. "And you have always lived your life among the warm glow of others?" It's almost a silly statement to make. No one among the Shadow Lords really seemed to care about one another. Loyalties are fleeting. Whatever had brought him among their ranks, it certainly brings with it that deep sort of loneliness that some have turned inward, and others struggle with. "You wouldn't be here if that were the case." As young as she might look, the wolf has experienced great loss in her life, and that is enough to make her wiser than her years.

Still, when he commands her to remain still, she does. Perhaps it is because she wants to see just what it is that he plans on painting, or maybe it is just ingrained in her to follow the orders of the Shadow Lords. It would be easy to expect the later, especially with so many under the thumb of magic spells - serving unknowingly. Yet, Hati's eyes move with that keen intelligence of a wolf. She isn't just obeying orders, she's curious.

She doesn't say a word when he suggests that maybe the moon might be reaching for her. The thought leaves a strange feeling in her chest, as if some dying thing were fluttering weakly. Something that deserved to be crushed under foot. "Strange words for a Shadow Lord." Hati growls under her breath, her clawed fingers digging slightly against the table as her tail shifts, twitching with irritation. "Or perhaps you are what they say. A murderer of other Shadow Lords. A traitor. If so, my fangs will relish in the taste of your blood, mage."

It's a low sort of threat, even if she doesn't move from her place on the table. She doesn't like the way he talks. The beauty of his painting, of his face, it makes her feel that rising anger she felt the first time she looked into a mirror after... after... Her mind gropes for a memory that isn't there. Her eyes narrow. "You know nothing about my moon. So don't speak as if you do."

She doesn't answer right away when he asks who she is, the wolf inside her trying to escape, wanting to lash out, wanting to attack. There is a tension in her body that just begs for release - willing him to give her one reason to tear, rend, claw. "His daughter." She finally states. Too many of these Shadow Lords assume she was either a tool under Serrak's power, or an apprentice seeking to gain favor with the Shadow Lords. In truth, she is neither. Yet, it would take a fool to think that she is Serrak's blood-child. He'd taken her from somewhere, surely.

Seith has posed:
Indeed, even the painting of this wolf lacks a certain something. That fierceness. Instead, this wolf seems 'sad'. Maybe it's the loneliness that Seith dared to bring to this canvas. And it is true, for all that time within the Hollow Bastion, he's never felt more alone around more people. But what does it matter anymore? Still, his answer might surprise her; "My life before now was one filled with warmth and love." He explains.

He puts his brush down along with the palette, grabs a dirty cloth, and dips his fingers into a little jar of water before cleaning his hands. He rubs them good and dry before he looks back to her again. "A child, a wife, a wonderful life. In the city, and outside of it." He tosses the rag to the table and comes to stand before her, facing her with his chest forwards. He challenges her.

This man looks her straight in the eyes. He does wonder - if she is merely an apprentice, or something else. He heard things, but he was never one to just latch onto rumors and hearsay. "They are not strange. Hope can cause despair or happiness. We live on the edge of the abyss, teethering on darkness. Without a little hope, we would be pushed down that abyss with no way back. Only the truly strong can stand there for long." He then shifts his head away and moves past her, moving around her.

"A murderer of Shadow Lords? A traitor? Mayhaps." He then comments. "I won't say that there has not been the death of a Shadow Lord at my hands. The one known as Malachy - I stripped his power... and the Heartless took him. He'd given up, grown old and weak keeping his 'pet' under control. He is how I became a Shadow Lord." The girl then turns dramatically, looking her way once more.

"But I refuse to let you put your fangs in my body." He then adds, slowly crossing his arms, tapping his fingers against the black armor. He's not entirely sure what to say in regards to her claim that he speaks of 'her' moon. So he skips this subject, while taking it to memory. He then slowly nods at her, "His daughter then. I did not know I had a daughter. But then, so few of us know anything about one-another, now do we?"

He then extends his hand, flat up. "My name is Seith. And what may be your name, Daughter of Serrak?"

Hati has posed:
"But not anymore." Hati's words could easily be taken as cruelty, but wolves do tend to think more readily in the moment. Her past certainly nags at her, tries to draw her back into it, but when she looks at this Elf, it is not some man with a wife and child, born from joy and happiness. She sees some reflection of her own pain and sorrow looking right back at her. "They're gone, and nothing you can do will ever bring them back." Again, there is that harsh edge to her words, but it's her own pain she's lashing out with, trying to find her own anger in someone else.

Even as he comes to face her, the wolf doesn't move. For all her small size, Hati is brave, and she is not one to let anyone make her relent or back down. Her fanged teeth flash, showing her own response to that challenge, staring him straight in the eyes. It's something you don't see often from a wolf, not except the most dominant. She is not one to be made an omega. She is no mere servant. "Strength can come from a great many things. Mine isn't from your weak ideal of hope. For all your hope, they are nothing more than dust and memory."

The name of Malachy is not unfamiliar to her. Where her older memories are shadow, the sight of a certain dark-haired Elf who she had once trained with is not. The fact that he killed Malachy is nothing to her, but... "I could care less about Malachy, but if you had anything to do with Serrak's disappearance, so help me, I will kill you in the worst way you can imagine."

When he starts to move, she shifts, never letting him get behind her. It's animal instinct, keeping an enemy in sight rather than letting them get to anyplace vulnerable. She looks to that extended hand, not sure what to make of it. Even after everything that she's said, the girl doesn't look as if she were saying any of these things to be mean. She has had her own experiences, and this is what she believes. Her eyes look at that hand, and then back towards him. No, she wouldn't lick it as she had done Reize's, but she certainly doesn't understand what it is meant to express.

"Hati." She growls the name, tail twitching again behind her.

Seith has posed:
"Hrrrm, but no more." Seith agrees with her, "Those days are over." His eyes don't glaze over, he doesn't get melodramatic. He's accepted the death of his wife and child... even though they still linger in his memories. There's a bit of annoyance that comes though, when she reminds him that there's nothing he can do to bring them back. "They did not fall into Hades' realm, so indeed, there is nothing I can do to bring them back." It's a harsh reminder.

As for his challenge, he's glad she doesn't back down. She would not last long if she did after all. He continues to look her in the eyes, smiling. He's not trying to enslave her, to make her his servant. She's just someone to get to know. But as with all Shadow Lords, there was always that first meeting. That first moment where one weighed eachothers' merit. A dance of power, without anything being flung anyone's way. "You are right. Strength /can/ come from a great many things. I guess perhaps, without hope, there must be something else then." He sounds... undecided.

"No matter." He then decides, and continues on to shake his head, "No, I was not the one to make Serrak disappear. But his workload is certainly... interesting." He glances behind her at the book of Serrak's he'd left there. A hand-gesture is made to 'discard' her thoughts. He then looks at his hand when she looks at it, and then back to her. "Ah right... a gesture you are not familiar with. Many will 'shake hands' to show trust in one-another upon a meeting."

He then paces a little away and makes for a handflick, returning the library's shelves rapidly into their own original slots. "Hati then. I will remember that name. Tell me Hati, what was the last thing Serrak was working on?"

Hati has posed:
Annoyance is something she is not unfamiliar with. For a moment, there is a flash across her mind's eye of a dark, wolven face turning away, growling under his breath. Then it's gone again, escaping beyond her reach. Perhaps she could have more understanding for this man and his loss, but unlike many, Hati has little in the way of positive memories. She has never known love. There is that feeling sometimes when she dreams of the boy, or of the female she knows as her mother, but it is so dwarfed by her anger that it's hard to hold on to.

"Would you try to fight for them, if you could?" She asks, narrowing her eyes. As much as he is trying to get a 'feel' for her and her strength, Hati is doing much the same. Already, he has proven to be less of an ignorant fool than Negaduck, and perhaps more wise than some of the others who claim themselves mages. Yet, she isn't one to be lead, and his 'encouragement' had only reminded her just how frustrating it is to chase for a dream and never reach it. "Everyone I know is dead. My world is gone. Even if I wanted to, there is no going back."

She shifts, moving herself off of the table. As she stands at her own height, it's clear just how much shorter she is than the mage. It would be easy to mistake her for a teenager, if it weren't for the fact that she's a perfectly built version of an adult woman, just a bit shorter than most. "No one comes here who is happy." She states this as fact, and perhaps it is. Even those darker sorts who find their joys in cruelty and malice - they weren't /really/ happy.

"Lord Serrak was one of the most powerful of Malificent's sorcerers. He favored exploration of dreams, memories, and the ways they made ties to the heart." None of this is particularly private information - it's all there in the books if this man had actually read them. But when he explains the gesture of holding out his hand, and then asks her about what her master had been doing, the wolf just tilts her head, looking at him with a wary, quizzical expression. "Then you'll excuse me if I don't, since I don't trust you." She states it simply, like someone would say that they don't like brussel sprouts. "What makes you think I would tell you what he was working on?"

Seith has posed:
"Very well." Seith answers when she is finished speaking once more, retrieving his own hand. "An honest answer." Then, he turns to earlier points of conversation.

"You mean, if I could do things over again, would I choose the same path?" Seith asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes while coming to face towards the window. He notes how short she is in comparison to him, but that she is still taller than Oswald. Light begins to fade further and candlelight comes to burn more fiercely within the castle. "No." He answers her, before he continues on to explain; "The power of darkness was denied to me early on, due to those of light - it made me weak. I was unable to use my true strength truly was needed, and mattered." He explains while he raises one hand and lights a green light over his palm. "And now, they are dead. If they died, then they are where they belong."

"I was weak. Had I not been so foolish as to discard that power, I would have /CRUSHED/ my enemy." He makes his hand to a fist when he utters the word 'crushed', then lowers his arm. "Yet, had I done that, I would perhaps not be here now with the knowledge I have. So I guess there is something to say for that too." The man then moves away, beginning to walk up the stairwell to the series of comfortable chairs there, and comes to sit at the banister, and looks over to Hati once more. It's obvious that he would want her to follow, if she wanted to continue this conversation.

"Your world was destroyed, you say? Pity. Perhaps, other strong ones such as yourself could have come from there. But on the other hand; Perhaps the fact that it was destroyed proves to deny this notion." /Destroyed/ she said. How interesting. It had not fallen to darkness? What could have caused this? He raises a hand to his chin and ponders there for a mere moment, before he comments;

"Ah yes. I am afraid that memories are not my forte, but Dreams..." Seith grins proudly; "Dreams however... they are. The wimsical ponderings of the heart, and the strong driving visions... I know them well. I can't say Serrak's books have not helped me in that regard." He leans back and steeples his fingers. "Yes, very informative in fact. As for you telling me what he was working on? Well... I heard he disappeared." He grins. "It might hold a clue. I am not foolish enough to think that we do not need someone the likes of Serrak around, Hati. While I may be 'alone' in this library, I am not someone who purely 'works on his own' or 'thinks only of his own good'. Much like Serrak... I prefer to have allies..." In the case of Serrak, he suggests that Hati had been his 'ally'. After all, she is his daughter.

Hati has posed:
While it isn't exactly what she had meant to ask, Hati is quiet as he explains his own interpretation. The wolf is a good listener. Serrak would not have tolerated someone who was loud or interrupted his work, but this girl is watchful, careful, quiet when the need calls for it. Her head tilts slightly at the fact that he had denied darkness, her tail swaying slightly behind her. "There are those who are afraid of darkness because it stands against the light, but I've seen darkness that exists in almost every heart. It's not something that can ever be vanquished."

Of course, with this statement, she also seems to prove that the opposite holds true. Then again, it is not this wolf's goal to destroy the light. As foolish as it might seem, her ideal is for all of this existence to be swollowed into the darkness, to give light the chance to create something not so tainted by the foolish creatures within it. That was Serrak's dream, and he sought it within the hearts of individual people. He would have had a field day with those so-called Princesses of Heart. A Heart without darkness? For Serrak, such a thing was an impossibility.

"Still, not the question I was asking." This is her sort of test, eyeing the man as he starts to walk towards the stairs. "If there was a way to find them, would you fight to bring them back? Just what would you lose if it meant seeing them again?" Hati shoots right to the heart of things, it seems. This connection he has to his dead wife and child are a weakness. "Is that why you're here? If it were me, I would strike them down with all of my vengence. The worst that could happen then, is joining them."

As she steps up onto the landing, the wolf takes a seat without being invited to do so. She kicks her feet up onto a table, closing her eyes and letting her head tilt back in a lazy sort of manner. "There are others, but it doesn't matter. I have seen no sign of the one I seek to destroy. So all that's left is Serrak, and the White Wolf." With a growl, she rumbles to herself. There is something there in her words. Hati is not the type to be self-pitying, but she knows just how fine a thread she walks. The wolf is unatainable, and Serrak... if he's really gone for good, what else is there to hold her to this place?

When her eyes open again, she looks at him with the green one on the unscarred side of her face. "Plenty of allies in this place, but not a single one that wouldn't stab you in the back should the need call for it. It's a bad place to look for that. You could try to mind control helpless girls. I hear it's the standard." She muses, showing a hint of those fangs as she talks. "I doubt there is much you can offer me. If I cannot find him, then no one can."

Seith has posed:
Seith's eyes narrow a little and he relaxes further into his seat, waiting for the girl to settle down. He continues to sit there, fingers steepled, watching her with strange interest as she relaxes herself in a far different manner. "If there was a way to find them, would I fight to bring them back?" He pauses for a moment, and then shakes his head, "I would not. They are dead, they should remain dead. They would weaken me now; a thing for an enemy to use perhaps, if I allowed myself to free them - thus bringing light into my heart." He pauses, then nods his head. "But neither would I strike them down. They have done me no wrong - neither my wife, nor my daughter. It would be a pointless venture, a waste of my power."

The man then gives her a momentary look, confused at why she is so angry. What has happened to her in her past. But what she continues on to say is far more interesting. "You have a goal then, in wanting to destroy a particular individual?" He offers, before he adds; "And... the white wolf you say? Is that the one you must destroy?" There is not enough information, so the link that isn't there... seems to be there.

"Still, no, that is not why I am here. My desire to is bring darkness to the world. To force this realm to become /strong/. Truly /strong/. To be able to withstand whatever may come. In a way... to reset everything and change the rules."

He looks her in the eyes when she opens them again, and he smiles slightly. "Ah, but why would I do that? Sure, I technically lack the ability to do so - but I could learn from Serrak's books. No, more importantly, I don't 'need' mind control, nor 'helpless girls'. I want strength. And I will use /strength/ to obtain it." This last part even has him balling a fist.

Hati has posed:
There is something distinctly lupine about the way that the girl reclines in the chair. It's that way about them that shows they are either at ease, or tense and ready, with very little that lies between. He is not involved with Serrak's disappearance, so he is not a threat that would require her to fight. Still, there's something in his voice that causes her to shift, sitting forward then, landing her booted feet on the floor. The wolf is back at the ready.

Hati turns those mismatched eyes on him, narrowing her own in response to his words. "You're just as bad as the rest. You would rather have power than have that which you claimed to love." Hati chuffs softly under her breath, shaking her head. Those fur-tipped ears twitch back into the mask of her hair, blue strands hanging in her eyes. For someone who has never had real happiness, seeing someone else so willing to throw away their own is strange to her. "I'll never understand your sort."

It may be impossible to give up the darkness in her own heart, but the wolf in her speaks of that longing for some 'other'. Someone that would make this life worth the pain. That is a dream - the impossible sort - at least so far as she sees it. She lets go of her own thoughts, thinking about that painting of the moon again.. Then, she turns her eyes back on Seith. "My father." She states, claws digging slightly into the arms of the chair. "But he's gone. Although... if he did make it out before the world was destroyed, I would relish in ripping his throat out." Her teeth flash in the firelight.

In her mind's eye, there is that image of her facing down the old wolf, and making him finally /see/ her strength. It would be the last thing he would ever see. "Look at Malachy's notes if you want mind control. Serrak never sunk to such things. True loyalty is something that is earned, and that's something so many of these Shadow Lords forget." She looks at his balled fist, growling under her breath. "Is that a challenge? Do you want to test your magic against my fangs?" She asks with a laugh. "I warn you. I won't hold back."

The wolf gets to her feet, reaching for what looks like a pocketwatch. She tosses it once, twice, in her hand, and then looks at him, waiting for his answer.

Seith has posed:
"I rather bring this world to become a safer place, before I'd dare bring them into it. But the entire point is moot - they cannot be brought back. They aren't strong enough for this world - and to bring them back now would only serve to have me lose them again." Seith expresses, "I am not strong enough, nor am I in enough places at once, to protect them and keep them safe." He started that sentence before she even manages to finish to express how she doesn't understand 'his sort'. "Things are not so black and white, Hati." There's some mild allusion to impatience in his face at that last bit, while he moves both hands flat onto the armrests and wraps his fingers around it. He will let her decide wether or not he's as 'bad as the others' based on this.

Still, he won't say he doesn't look for her approval in a way. He sees no point in needlessly alienating and antagonizing fellow Shadow Lords. It's a pain to constantly look behind you. And someone to guard his back, and someone who has the experience as Serrak's 'daughter' would be useful. He doesn't really know this girl further than that... well, besides the fact that she's headstrong, comes from a different social environment, and is obviously 'strong' in general. She would not be a Shadow Lord if she did not have the latter.

With obvious interest, he looks her in the eyes as she speaks of her father. Such intense anger! Like a spring-loaded gun, ready to fire at any moment. "I assume that would be a rather personal battle for you then. Do not worry, I will not interfere if your father has 'made it out'." The man then slowly sits up further. "Malachy's notes? They do not lie within this library. The man was... very untrusting of anyone. He refused to share his knowledge with a single person." Seith suggests. "Lest he hid it under a different name and title."

Then slowly, as she asks him wether he were challenging her or not, he stands up. "I certainly would enjoy to testing your power, Hati." He answers her, while stepping around his chair and glancing at her 'pocketwatch'. He raises a brow, then looks around. "Not in here. It would be a waste of good books if we got serious. How about the courtyard?" He offers, and then moves to walk towards the upper door. It looks like this is not a man to use Portals for /everything/.

Hati has posed:
"No. What's gone can't be brought back. Although there are more than a few among the ranks who think they can." It's one of those things that tends to go along with 'bad guys' - that desire to somehow move beyond death. "At least you aren't one of those sorts." The wolf slowly walks towards one of the windows that lines the castle, looking out into the courtyard below. She runs her clawed fingers along the bindings of the books, not damaging them, just feeling them beneath her fingers.

"Still. There is no strength in the world that can protect someone entirely. Any time you let someone in, it's a crack. A little break in your defenses." Hati had people she cared about, her mother, the boy, Serrak. They had made her strong in life, and now their memory makes her stronger still in death. "If it were me, I would rather live and take my joy wherever I find it." For someone like this girl to speak of joy seems strange. There is that shadowed look in those mismatched eyes, as if she saw happiness only at a distance.

Of course, what the other Shadow Lords don't know is that she runs for the fun of it, hunts for the thrill, and spends her evenings reading by the fireside, or training that dog that would have ended up dead at the hands of Negaduck or the other Shadow Lords if she hadn't said that he was going to be a snack. For all the darkness in her life, Hati has her moments, and perhaps those are the reason she hasn't given in completely and become a true monster.

Still, describing her as a loaded gun is not far from the truth. The wolf's claw stops at a title, bearing the name of her adoptive father, then she looks back towards Seith. "Perhaps try finding his little toy. Though I doubt she'd remember much. He had her quite wrapped up in spells if I recall. An Elf like yourself. Pretty thing." It's a strange way of talking about someone who was once an ally, but how much can someone truly be a 'friend' if they were never really 'there' at all? Who knows if Morgan would even still remember the wolf who fought at her side. Probably not.

"I wouldn't dream of damaging any of Lord Serrak's books." He may be gentile enough to take the door, but Hati... she takes the window. The wolf hops up, crouches there for a moment, and then is gone into the courtyard. She takes that moment - that brief bit of time that it will take him to come out to snap open the 'watch', which is actually a sort of compact with an image of a pale girl on one side, and a mirror on the other. As she looks into it with just that one green eye, it begins to glow, and her body begins to tremble.

She's quick to hide the source of her transformation, tucking the compact into her pocket and then taking off her jacket, even has her body starts to feel the change. By the time that he'd arrive, she'd already be curled over, crouched on the ground, mid-way through the transformation into a wolf. It takes only a few seconds, and then she stands, howling into the night. There is no full moon to call to, but as she turns those mismatched eyes towards the arriving mage, it is not a girl who stares at him, but a beast. Hati growls low under her breath.

Seith has posed:
Hati now knows one of the things this man does to 'enjoy' himself. To paint. He certainly had no way of knowing that she would come into this room and interact with him after all. The man casually looks behind him when the girl leaves through the window, and then continues on down the stairs and to the courtyard at his own pace. There is no need to excert himself. But he does bring his hand to the staff at his back, unhooking it and bringing it alongside his body.

When he finally opens the grand doors that give access to the courtard. He continues on a little further, walking around so he might see the girl standing there. Or rather... the massive body of the werewolf. But within her, there is the darkness that is 'Hati'. He continues to walk up to her, until he's within an arm's reach of her's, and has to turn his head up slightly to look the great werewolf in the eyes.

"I know where Morgan is." He then suddenly states. "She remembers nothing, and that is how she may remain to be." He states and then slams the staff hard into the ground, being a bit dramatic about it all. To fight a werewolf... how amazing. He leans on his staff for a moment, before he 'pushes' himself into a floating leap back and lands onto the ground.

He spins the staff then, and lets the shard edges spear out of it in the first swings. "Then let us begin." He calls out, and raises a hand to the air... and within moments, the moon begins to 'fade' from the sky. An illussion gripping the air and clouds come to block it from sight. With his other hand, he points to the ground... and suddenly the platform they stand upon rapidly pushes to the skies, gripped by his ability to use magical Gravity and control it.

Hati has posed:
While Hati may be significantly taller as a wolf, she still is quite small for her race. A true werewolf would have likely towered over the tall Elf. She doesn't often talk in this form, drawing her lips back from her fangs with a snarl and a lashing of her tongue across her teeth. Rage trembles in her limbs.

When his magic begins to move, it certainly unsteadies the wolf on her feet. She isn't used to the ground being swept up from beneath her, and the strange feeling of the moon disappearing makes her ears flatten against her head. Like the wolf in his painting, Hati raises her great head and bays, calling back to that light that had shone in the darkness of her night. Still, the fact that he seems to block out the moon only fuels the fire.

Just as the magic begins to flow around them, she snaps her jaws out with surprising quickness, latching on to him with sharp, dangerous teeth. Already, the power of her own darkness has started to show, lingering along the path of her bite - flowing into the ground from her paws as she makes each step. The beast is strong, and relentless. She gives barely a moment reprieve as she draws back her muzzle, then slams herself forward, trying to use the bulk of her body to knock the mage off of his feet.

It's all one swift motion, a clawed hand grasping for hold on his armor, grunting with all her strength as she tries to heft him skyward towards the moon that he had extinguished.

Seith has posed:
No matter how much she may howl, the moon does not yet return to her. This man's grip over the illussion remains strong, even as she sinks those darkness-seeping teeth into his armored arm. When he has her let go and she shows just how much darkness there is within, the man's eyes seem to brighten. Beautiful and stark green eyes against those dark horns and that dark clothing.

To him, it's beautiful - where others might only see fright. This is power after all, darkness and power. When she slams forwards, the mage tries to stand strong - moving his staff forwards to stop her from getting too close to any of his vitals. This only serves in her grabbing onto his armor beyond his staff with one hand, and he's hefted upwards into the air. He momentarily he loses grip on the plateau they'd stood upon - and lets it sink back down, and suddenly swings the staff around to try and force her to let go...

And then, with that power of gravity, he 'pulls' the plateau towards him, and pulls himself towards it with the scythe out, attempting to slice its darkness-magical blade along her body - bleeding darkness over her. Having landed, he digs his feet in and then tries to fire a series of gravity to her. He tries to trap her momentarily in the air, before swinging a massive 'orb' of darkness her way in an attempt to weaken her body!

Hati has posed:
The movement of combat is always quick, and while she is not particularly agile in this bulky, wolfish form, Hati has trained herself to react at a moment's notice. Finding herself flung about easily by the force of his gravity magic, the wolf does something quite clever and unexpected. Rather than trying to take the brunt of the attack in the air, she allows her own darkness to wrap around it, using the force to pivot and send it spiraling outward into the night, and away from her.

She keeps spinning for just a moment before her own magic brings her to a stop, looking not quite so at home in the air. The wolf is clearly more suited to the earth. Pushing off, seemingly from nothing at all, she launches herself back down, grabbing on and digging her feet into the ground, leaving great marks where her paws pass.

Now facing him again on equal footing, the wolf charges forward, trying to catch him in a flurry of claws and teeth. It's hard to tell where each attack will come from, and they do come quite quickly. A lash to the shoulder, a bite to an arm, one after another. Then, with a deep growl, she pushes forward again with the force of that powerful body of hers, trying to squarely knock him down to the ground, like some hunter trying to pin her prey.

Seith has posed:
Standing at the groundlevel, Seith watches the girl with interest as she uses her own darkness in such skilled manner. This indeed is one who has been here for a while now. How long? How long had she been under Serrak, he wonders. He has no time to think about it too long, for she spins herself towards him and comes down to the ground again. He brings his staff up to his chest-level again and moves forwards to meet her in the middle, and begins to show his mettle...

While certainly no expert, he still manages to stop her from getting close to his chest and face with her claws and teeth, giving up moments where she might slash his shoulder or bite his armored arms; so he might better defend the next swipe. Still, her body is powerful. And when she tries, she knocks him down! Not pinning him, but rather, he is forced to fall to one knee. His staff up, holding her strong hands and arms back...

Seith looks up at her defiantly and brave - with enjoyment showing in his smile. "You won't have me that easily, Hati." He calls, and then finally gets some of his own strength - magically powered by his armor - and then tries to slice her up along the chest before reaching to his chest with his off hand. The illusion over the moon falls just in that moment, as he forms a whip of darkness from that off-hand and throws it out to try and capture her by her arms and legs or even neck - to shackle her if you may - 'lash' her up into the air again!

Hati has posed:
As he holds her back, the wolf snarls - showing a full set of dangerous looking fangs. These are the sort of weapons that could easily take a life. She isn't holding back her strength, and the fact that he can even remain on one knee is impressive for most people. Still, he is a Shadow Lord, and she holds higher standards than any average man. She seems to have that sixth-sense that tells her when something bad is about to happen, and there is a flash of that knowledge in her eyes.

The wolf's ears lay back, and just in the moment that he is about to catch her, strike her with that armor of his and throw her - the wolf reacts. She leaps upwards, moving with the flow of the attack, letting the force of it allow her to make an escape into the air. It may not be the place where she fights most naturally, but it is better than taking a powerful attack from the mage at close range.

With another burst of her own power, Hati slams back down to the earth, shaking it a bit with the force of her landing. She turns, growling as she prowls on all fours, eyes flashing with lupine anger. For the second time, she charges forward. Some might mistake it for a blind sort of fury that drives her to lash out, but what appears to be just a berserker rage is actually calculated, trying to drive him back, pushing him towards the edge of the platform of land that he'd summoned up.

She seems to leave him only two choices: Fall to the ground, or face hell at her claws.

Seith has posed:
Things seem to go in slow motion when he throws out his attack. Seith's eyes widen as the girl moves and leaps upwards, his attack just narrowly missing her, maybe even giving her fur a slight shave as it comes along. This time, it is not his anti-gravity that brought her to the air, and she moves back down gracefully. Seith, having moved all his power and momentum forwards in an attempt to catch her with that darkness whip - is unbalanced in that moment...

And Hati is simply faster. Her growling and movement on all fours allows her to charge in on his position before he has a proper chance to try and roll out of the way. His momentum forward, he does the best he can do. He slams the staff into the ground while the scythes move into 'upwards' positions... causing one side to cut into the ground. Her berserker rage lashes out and slams into the pole, forcing the man backwards hard and creating an immense knocking pressure onto his body beneath that armor. She knocks the wind out of him and brings him close to the edge of the platform.

There, he pulls the pole out and steps fowards. He stands his ground and moves his hands out and tries to grab her by the wrists. Her claws come down however, heavy onto his shoulders, digging into the armor. The man grits his teeth, his legs trembling, and this time he's brought straight down to the ground into a laying position. His head over the edge of the platform, his staff discarded at the side. His arms are shaking, and it is obviously taking all of his strength to keep her from digging those claws in deeper.

Yet, there is no hatred in his eyes. Instead, a field of darkness overcomes him, flowing over his body and pouring from the wounds like a demonic mist. His strength increases just slightly, while he remains beneath her... and his armor slowly repairs its damages and his body stops looking quite as pale as it did before. "I refuse to let this battle end here, Hati. I still have more to show."

And as he says this, the plateau suddenly starts plummeting down.

Hati has posed:
There is a fine sort of line that the wolf seems to be treading. So many moments where her claws could have dug in. It's subtle - the sort of thing where one might easily think that she were going all out as she had claimed. Yet, as those claws pass by, narrowly avoiding any areas that might be fatal, a keener eye might notice how she tests his defenses, trying to find ways through them. She is no berserker fighter, but someone with a keen mind, analyzing, deducing, figuring out just how she could beat him if the need really did call for it.

It seems almost as if she might have him, though. She growls for a moment, low in her chest. Then, just as quickly as the battle seemed to be going her way, the earth drops out below them. At first, she tries to scramble, giving a yelp of surprise as one claw tries to latch onto his armor, and then she's falling. It takes a moment to re-orient herself to the fall, watch where the ground is below her, and steady herself for the landing that will inevitably come. When it does, she lands on all fours, sending up a puff of dust around her.

As she looks at him, her head is unbowed, ears perked. It is the posture of a dominant, confident wolf. Her forepaws dig into the soil, but she doesn't strike. Afterall, he had said that he still had more to show her. Strangely enough - the wolf waits. In a real fight, she probably would not allow an enemy this sort of reprieve. The moon, even past it's full point, shines down on her like a ghost in the night, and she howls, calling her song out to those who would hear.

Then, those mismatched eyes settle on him. In this form, it's easy to see just how much damage the girl has had done to her. Her face and ear show the clear signs of a terrible struggle, and similar marks mar her shoulder, her side. These are all old, though. All from a time before she became Serrak's apprentice. Even the mage's power couldn't heal wounds slashes that clearly were no ordinary wounds.

For all the battle so far, Hati hasn't said a single word, but as she waits for him to rise, she offers only one: "Come." Inviting him to show that power he claims to have, before shows him more of her own.

Seith has posed:
When the plateau disappears from beneath their feet, Seith is obviously ready for it. He pushes her away from him in that moment and takes a moment to re-orient himself mid-fall, and watches her descend faster than himself. For a moment, he recalls her growl, and recognizes how she is indeed holding back at least a little. But then, so is he. He can lift this plateau after all - surely, he could bring far more force into this battle if he truly desired to do so.

Yet, he is trying. He isn't trying to lose this battle. He's showing restraint, but he sure as hell is trying to win - even though he sees this battle as being about showing strength more-so than getting the other say they 'give'. His gaze moves down towards her, and he hears her daring him to 'come'. That invitation... he will accept.

The man comes to fall quickly down towards the ground, darkness enveloping him upon his way down - until his plumet brings him down onto the plateau and first rocks... then /moves/ the entire thing. With a heavy anti-gravity quake, it shifts around its axis and seeks to 'launch' the girl to the air. And then, while it is still like this - the man remains somehow solidly placed against this rock and throws one hand forwards.

"Crush! Gravity!" And a dark hole opens up near her. Loose rock rapidly is sucked into it and crushed, while the dark ball expands and tries to suck in Hati - tries to 'push in' on her body, and sap her strength to resist, before 'spitting' her out downwards back to the plateau!

Hati has posed:
Being thrown into the air is starting to become a bit of a pain for the wolf, who doesn't have wings or other special powers to help her orient herself in the air. It's difficult enough to move around, and it takes all of her strength to keep from being sucked completely into that hole of darkness that the mage had summoned. Her hands seem to brace at the edges of it, holding it open and keeping it from closing in on her completely. There is pain on her features, showing that this is no small task for the wolf.

When she's finally released, his control over gravity still has her linger above the ground, even if it doesn't last long. She extend her hand to the ground, using it to pull herself towards the darkness as if it were a part of her own body. This girl is no stranger to darkness, and it seems to radiate from every attack that she makes. When she lands on the ground again, there is a small wince from the girl, showing that she is not immune to damage as she might seem at first.

Then, with a snarl, the wolf closes the distance, pushing her own pain aside and using it as a weapon. She reaches out, grabbing for part of his armor, ripping it right, then left, and then trying to slam her head right into his chest. Afterwards, she gives him a hard throw, aiming to knock the mage off of the nearest tower of Hollow Bastian. See how he likes being in the air for a while.

Seith has posed:
Seith expected no less than for her to break out of that gravity-well with the amount of mastery over the sheer force of darkness this werewolf has shown already. Still, he knows he is making her life a lot harder right now. He remains to stand his ground, taking this moment of respite to re-attain his staff and readies himself. After all, he knows this won't be the last of her. And indeed, he is right. She comes down once more and continues to be ready for combat.

He'd have no less.

He points the staff her way and takes a step back, retreating the scythes in that moment and prepares for her approach while he gathers his own magic. Still, for all his attempts at blocking her with his staff, she breaks past his defenses once more. Her claws sharply carve across the armor, making for a painful sound. The head-slam that follows knocks him back, and soon-after he's thrown up into the air once more.

This time, he's ready. One scythe-head comes out of the staff and he uses it to hook around one of the spires and halts his 'flight'. He moves a hand to his chest, wincing. He's in pain, and is having trouble breathing because of her earlier attacks. Not to mention, his armor is starting to get to a point where it doesn't really protect him anymore. But yet, he's been given distance. He can work with distance. But distance combat - he feels - will not impress this one. So with his right hand, he throws a series of black bolts that fire outwards and then move in for her position, before he launches himself from the tower towards her and tries to ram her with his shoulder, cut her with the scythe's magical blade, and then blasts a bolt of darkness to her chest at point-blank range!

Hati has posed:
This has gone on long enough. The wolf glares up at him, her lip curling back from her teeth. It is a look of challenge - one that certainly shows that she has strength enough to answer whatever he comes to throw at her. When those bolts of fire move in on her, the wolf turns quickly, extinguishing them with her own dark flames and stamping them into the ground beneath her paws. She keeps moving forward, prowling like a beast out of the deepest darkness. She is intent - her eyes only on him.

Even as he launches himself towards her, the wolf makes no move to get out of the way. She catches the blade of his Scythe in the middle of the attack, holding it firmly and snarling right against his face. The single movement had disrupted the entire attack, letting the bolt of darkness fizzle out before it has a chance to actually strike her full force. In that moment, she pulls hard, trying to rip it free from his grasp. Regardless of if she succeeds, it would hopefully be enough to put him off-balance.

This time, rather than throwing him up into the air, the wolf grabs on and launches skyward. There is no gravity spell to hold her, and Hati quickly turns, tumbling towards the ground, intent on slamming him into the earth with the bulk of her weight and her strength behind it. This is what she knows will be the end of him, and there is no doubt in her mind.

The landing is hard, blowing up dust around them, but when it clears, that lupine face is right there in front of his, teeth clearly visible against the moonlight, ready for the killing blow. It's just that moment - the place where she holds his life in her hands - and she's seeing if he'll flinch.

Seith has posed:
It certainly looks like experience is wholefully on Hati's side. With most of his stronger spells having been eluded by the werewolf, the man doesn't have enough energy left to recover in such a short moment. So when she grabs for the staff and pulls it away, it is ripped from his hold and clatters to the plateau. The man makes an annoyed and pained sound and tries to grab at her and lob magic her way at the same time, but fails in that moment - as she throws launches the both of them skyward.

The man bites down as she comes to slam him down, preparing for the fall. There's that sick feeling in his stomach until finally, with a loud shattering sound - the man is forced into the ground. Dust flares up and the man feels his muscle twisting and the armor digging into his body. His breath is knocked out of him again, and the moment he's finally sucked in some air... all it ends up being used for is a painful shout that rends the air.

Yet, when she moves her lupine face closer, she will see that he's baring his teeth at her, bleeding a little from his mouth, staring up at her in defiance even now - even though his body is broken and will need time to recover.

Hati has posed:
The fact that he still has the will to bare his teeth at her is, at least, something. In this lupine form, it is so much harder to figure out just what the wolf-girl is thinking. Her bestial mannerisms don't come off as clearly as human ones. Then again, even when she looks like a human, she rarely has the right social queues to express exactly what she wants to. It's the trade-off she gets from juggling wolfish instincts and a fairly isolated childhood.

Still close, probably uncomfortably so, the wolf growls low - threatening. Then, it's over. Not his life, but the pressure on his chest lifts. Hati turns away, walking towards where she had abandoned her jacket. The rest of her clothes are a lost cause, but she doesn't seem to care about it. With the rage of the wolf releasing from her body, she slowly begins to turn back into a girl, and her arms slide into the long trenchcoat, folding it closed over herself.

There is a bit of a crowd having gathered - some of the lesser servants of the Shadow Lords, but none of the 'big names'. While she might have won the battle, there are clear signs of the struggle in the way that the wolf-girl moves - trying to hide a distinct limp. As she steps towards an occupied doorway, she grabs onto the shirt of a mook, snarling at him. "You see what he was able to do. He's got more balls than the rest of you put together. Now go fetch one of the healers, before I have to re-arrange your face."

Of course, the little minion runs off to do as he's told. And Hati... well, she only gives one glance over her shoulder at the mage, then turns up the collar of her coat and stalks off. Just what she thinks of him after this battle ... is for another day.

Seith has posed:
The man keeps staring straight in her eyes, trying to read her - but having trouble doing so. After all, there is so much wolf and very little 'girl' aside from the sheer intelligence for the fight. Social behavior is different. Power is different. She growls threateningly, but he doesn't flinch. Instead, he just furrows his brow and lets a crackle of dark lightly spark along his body to show that - if she decided to continue, he had 'some' fight left in him to strike back. And this close - she might not have the luck of getting away.

Still, he doesn't lash out. He'd lost this show of strength - she'd come out on top. And as she lifts from his chest, the man takes another deep breath before sitting up. A hand moves out towards his staff and with the power of darkness and gravity, he pulls it back into his hand... and uses it to help him stand up properly. He doesn't tremble, he doesn't lean. He tries to stand as tall as he can as the werewolf turns back into a 'girl' and quickly makes for wearing a trenchcoat.

It's got to be quite troublesome, losing one's clothes each time. Perhaps she would benefit from an Attire-Spell.

Like this, standing tall and proud as the girl moves away, desiring not to show any weaknesses either, he waits. He waits for her to leave, and watches her step away from the courtyard and yell at some of the lower Shadowlords. At least she seemed to approve of him 'more' than the others.

But a Healer he would not need - he could do his own nursing. The man stares her right in the eyes the moment she glances back, smiling a little - letting her know that he 'enjoyed' this little struggle of theirs. Still, he can only wonder if he gained an ally... or had been found not worthy of her time.

Either way, he steps to move back to his library...

He had some reading to do, and a painting to gift.