Posts by Soulvore

Thomas Damien Wright
For a moment, the triviality of morality vanishes like sand in the wind....
Thomas looked at Kid as she spoke, nodding lightly to her in a show of respect. He opened his mouth to reply to her, but an outburst from the swivel chair at the front of the room drew his attention and he stiffened before he could help it. His hand went to the gun at his side, but he forced himself to let it go as he saw that the intent was not directed in any useful manner towards them. It was the cyborg from earlier, the one he had suspected to have quite the explosive attitude.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kid," He said, more as a pleasantry for him than to actually interact with her. He didn't let his eyes leave the woman with the lab coat, which went from paranoia to simple observation as she began to speak. She seemed nervous, but obviously intelligent, which was often the case for non-sociopathic people. Still, her reality remained as she was obviously the head of this organization and the voice of Grey Hound. Who knew? Maybe she really had come up with the idea and done her research.

As she spoke of observing them, it was suddenly very obvious that he had never needed the mask and cloak. He could have come in less paranoid manner and still been as safe as he was beforehand. However, the fact that he hadn't noticed being watched at all served as a red flag for him. How had he, the one that checked every corner and attempted to find any focus on him, get surveillance that brought him here without any idea of how much they knew?

Her speech about using them to shut down CATALYST didn't surprise him. He had already gone through several possible outcomes long-term to their plans, and this was one of the major pieces. The other major piece came much, much later and only after CATALYST was shut down for good.

In this time he looked around again to see how the others responded to the doctor's words. It seemed that the man sharing the back wall with him- Gage- reflected the first thoughts Thomas had indulged in. It seemed that Gage would be a pivotal ally if he made the right judgments, and if he didn't, space would be the best option. This guy was a lot like him and didn't play around.

Seth Aidric
Perhaps this life has been a dream...
Seth moved toward his bed silently eyes trained in the gloom to see his way there. He was exhausted by a day of training and he hadn't been paying attention, but when he remembered to snuff out the candlelight, he turned only a little too late and saw the slight movement of a shadow more concentrated than the other trivial shadows upon the wall. He ignored it for the moment, not wanting to alert the figure while he was unarmed. Instead, he moved back toward the candle, picking up a small metal cap for it in one hand, loudly enough to draw attention to that one hand, while simultaneously taking a bound dagger from beneath the wood of the desk. He dropped the piece and picked up the candle as he turned, blade behind his back.

"I know you're there," He began in a strong yet quite voice, "If you don't want me to call the guards you would be wise to reveal yourself. Into the candlelight now, slowly."

His eyes were hard, set on the figure in the shadows with his concealed blade feeling frighteningly cold in his hand. He had never killed anyone before and nearly prayed that he wouldn't have to- nor would he have to watch one be killed. If it was an assassin, such as one that appeared many times in an attempt to strike at his father and found executed in secret in the torture rooms below. He had always been curious in nature, and despite his father's attempts to leave that secret alone in Seth's formative years, he found it out himself around the age of twelve and had been so upset about it that he had locked himself in his room for days.

His father called him a 'bleeding heart', someone who was too kind and faithful when the kingdom needed a firm guiding hand. He half believed him, and hoped that if he took care of this assassin alone, his father would recant his words. It was a long shot, but the thought solidified his resolve and his grip tightened against the hilt of the blade. Yes, he would try to deal with this one alone.

Thomas Damien Wright
Survival is a sweet gold through the veins...
Thomas smiled beneath his mask at Sabine's questions. Perhaps he had been too harsh with his judgments of her. He had expected her to be impulsive and not very reliable with intellect, but her questions spoke the exact ones he had planned on asking- at least the one about killing. He hadn't even considered being capable of asking to destroy the files, but he was glad she had been the one to ask. It diverted a little bit of attention away from him, but the one question he had that pressed onto the back of his skull would have to wait until he was on a one-on-one basis with the doctor girl. He wanted it to be as honest as possible, and if she was too worried about what the whole would think, he wouldn't get that honesty.

He carefully, slowly, made his way around the crowd towards the files. He wanted to know how much they knew about him so he could take countermeasures. He was used to being on the run, hiding away and being untraceable. The fact that they knew much at all was disconcerting and he couldn't help but feel intimidated. Did they know of each of his supply caches and what was in them? Did they know of his weapons suppliers (for which he had many for obvious reasons)? It was obvious they knew his apartment had been signed in another name- Dean Harris- so did they know his real name, or merely that?

He gazed at the newcomer- Daniel- and made note of his facial features. It was odd just how many of them were here. How had they found them in the first place? He was highly positive that some of them had refrained from using their abilities in front of others. Did they have a worm come out from CATALYST with the information? Perhaps he was only overthinking this as he usually did.

He glanced at Sabine with a nod of gratitude for her asking the questions she did before proceeding to retrieve his file. He needed to answer his questions before he let himself get too paranoid and put himself into a "fit". He wanted to know these people without going berserk so quickly and it was likely doing so in this place would mean certain death for him.

Yeah, he needed to calm down.

Thomas Damien Wright
It ties you up and sets you free...
He read through his folder as they walked, reading each word like a religious fanatic would their scripture. He was so vex in it, however, that he didn't see Arie appear beside him. As she spoke he jumped a bit, eyes flashing toward her before he instantly calmed. As he saw that they did, in fact, know where he lived and had images of him, he removed his mask and gave her his full attention.

"It is. Your name is Arie, correct? It's a pleasure to meet you," He gave her a polite smile, noticing her attentiveness to detail. He noted the red of her eyes and attempted to pull his own energy back insomuch as to avoid messing with her bionics. He did, however, indulge in his own mutual inspection of her.

Of the two Grey Hound members that he had met, Arie seemed the most trustworthy. Of course, it could just be his bias against the lab coat, but it was also thanks to her attitude. He could tell that she was an honest and blunt character, and he respected that deeply. There weren't any shifty gazes and dangerous secrets with her- that he could tell, at least. He would focus on this for now, use it as his focal point to reality. If he dwelled on this instead, then he'd stay calm enough.

He would make a point to be cordial to her to thank her for the control she would unknowingly give him. She seemed to enjoy jokes, too, so perhaps that would help divert his attention.

Thomas Damien Wright
Nothing more than a temporary madness...
Thomas watched her eyes as they turned green- his favorite color- and he blinked with the slightest tilt of his head. It was then that he understood what the color meant, but did not call her out on it. What would the point be anyways? For now she was being kind, and so he would be too. It wasn't like her eyes were going to kill him. They were striking, but not violently so.

He was about to reply to her when the scientist girl- to whom he mentally refused to name- spoke loudly to the group. He momentarily looked away from Arie to listen and catalogue her words before he turned back to Arie with an easy smile.

"I'll be honest with you, I don't trust its motives beyond this room. I'm an overly cautious character, though, and perhaps my wariness is a sign of paranoia, but..." He paused, looking past her to the scientist woman before drawing in a breath. He might as well say it, and if anything happened afterwards it was likely that his suspicions were right. For now, however, it couldn't hurt.

"...My biggest concern comes from after this whole CATALYST deal," He turned back to look at her with only the tiniest hints of a tired smile, "I mean, all of us here can agree that it needs to be shut down permanently, but I'm worried about what will happen to us after the fact. Will they try to silence its existence forever and thus silence us forever?"

He watched her for any signs of contribution. From what the scientist girl said earlier, there were higher-ups beyond these two. If this girl was trustworthy, then he'd trust this and be able to stay on only half alert until the end. He prayed she would be. She seemed too pleasant for her to be bad.

Seth Aidric
A mere illusion of our perceptions and schemas...
Seth gazed at the girl as she came out, a flirtatious threat sliding from her tongue as easily as her blade probably slid through the guards she doubtlessly encountered on her way into it. Her deadly grace was terrifyingly captivating, and yet her face remained shielded to the eye. For a moment he imagined what eyes she would have, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. He couldn't afford to give her human qualities before he killed her, otherwise he wouldn't be able to.

At her teasing about his weakness he felt shame creep into his stomach, accentuated by the fear brought on by her quick advance. He held his ground, eyes hardening slightly as she came closer. He imagined her as one of the guards training him to fight. His eyes stayed between her shoulders, intent yet distant as he prepared to read her movements. The face and hands could always lie, but the shoulders never did in a fight. If she was going to attack, he'd be able to tell and counteract her attack.

"I'm warning you one last time. Stop there or I'll kill you. Please don't force my hand," He fought to keep the plea out of his voice. It was true, he was weak, and the thought only made him less sure of himself. It was a terrible paradox, one that left him questioning how he would react to her blood being on his hands. Could he even do it? Maybe he should just call a guard.

He opened his mouth to alert someone, drawing in a breath and squaring his shoulders...

Seth Aidric
Perhaps beyond it is a universe of oddities...
Before he could call out, her lips were on his. Stunned, he attempted to step back, but the desk was already behind him. Before he could fully register and act, pain exploded across his temple and she was gone. Her apology was lost in a haze as he held onto the table to stay up, knees wanting to buckle and send him to the ground. He gritted his teeth and looked up as she disappeared beyond the doorway. Holding his own dagger tightly, he followed her out, head pounding. At first his steps were shaky and almost drunken, but they quickly became more surefooted.

He watched the guards attempt to stop her, observing her hood falling and her raven hair torn free. He didn't allow himself to pause as he pushed past the stunned guards right behind her.

"Don't just stand there!" He ordered them without looking back. He wasn't about to let her go free, and she wasn't the only one with rigorous training. His endurance was far better than his attack anyways. He had a bit of hope that he could somehow catch up to this strange woman and seize her.

He was, however, curious as to why she targeted him. Had she been upset by something that had been done? Was there an injustice he could somehow alter in his reign? He had to know, so for now he pursued her relentlessly.

"Stop there and you won't be killed here and now!" He called forward.

Thomas Damien Wright
What is it that enslaved us so?
Without realizing it, Thomas began to smile at the girl's reference. Vlad the Impaler, Count Dracul, meaning Son of the Dragon or Son of the Devil. He was known for his harsh punishments and morbid fancies, but none stood out as much as his loathing for adulterous women and public displays of punishment. He made it clear to everyone that his reign would never be questioned, and ruled with quite the disgusting taste. Powers, perhaps not, but his power came from the regard of fear surrounding him. Was Kid as influentially cruel as he? Thomas would certainly love to know.

"Hey, at least she isn't Elizabeth Bathory," He smiled to Arie after Vandersyde had finished speaking. He did hope she knew who the woman was, although she was a lesser known name in history. For fanatics of the darker parts of history, however, she was as famous as Vlad himself. If he could speak to Arie about such topics, he felt that he would find this place even more of a home than he had initially imagined.

He turned his attention to the cavern again, impressed by the strength and size of the architecture. It was difficult to keep a naturally formed cave stable, many lives often lost in the process, but they had found a pocket of dense and fitted rock that didn't seem prone to caving in. The fact that this would be headquarters to the operations excited him and he was intent on exploring every inch of it.

"Doctor, is there a secondary entrance?" Thomas inquired without looking at her. His eyes were set on the roofing, examining every rivet and facet. It was clearly well-built. What was even more surprising was his newfound ease and decreased nerves, as though he had found peace somehow.

Seth Aidric
A spellbound world without limitation...
As soon as she was restrained, he stood still, eyes as cold and dark as he could manage as he walked up to her. He knelt before her, looking up into her eyes since she was bent at an odd angle and he understood that looking up like that was pretty awkward. He could see her anger and spite burned into her eyes, felt cold beneath them. It was almost as though she was already slipping that dagger down his spine. The thought was harrowing.

"Be honest and I won't kill you. Tell me, why is it that you have come to kill me?" He asked, placing his own dagger at her neck. He figured this would give her twisted mind a bit more respect for him. He already had plans in place for this assassin and any wrong move could be her undoing. However, true to his word he would not kill her if she answered his inquiry and, if she said anything that he felt he needed to help with, he would personally see to her escape. Of course, he couldn't say that in front of the guard.

Now, all he could do was wait to see what kind of assassin she was. If she was too tight-lipped, then there would be nothing he could or would do for her and he would send her to the chopping block. Here he hoped she wouldn't be so difficult.

Thomas Damien Wright
Was it an addiction to the bitterness of sorrow?
Thomas watched as the doctor moved away, half tempted to follow and speak with her privately. One step in her direction and he stopped, quickly changing his mind. There was nothing he could gain by talking with her now. Only one question remained, after all, and it was so trivial that he could easily weave it into conversation. Besides, he felt that his initial paranoia had been worn thin and all of the perceived immediate danger had dulled. A sense of peace and sanctity was beginning to creep out of the ground of this haven and he rejoiced in the fact that it was there.

He turned away from the doctor almost at once and proceeded to the water's edge, wishing to inspect the tunnels. He suspected that most of them led toward the ocean, perhaps for later possible use, but he doubted that all of them did. He wanted to explore them himself, but doubted that he had the lung capacity to do so.

He stood afterwards, staring at his own translucent reflection in the rather stagnant water. His tired, shaded eyes and sickly pale skin disgusted him, so he turned away to find the gym area. He figured he would be spending most of his time there or in the training room probably sparring with someone. He half hoped he would pass Gage on his way and ask him to test it out with a nice spar.

Seth Aidric
Perhaps we merely lie to ourselves...
Seth couldn't help the blush that rose to his cheeks, but his eyes hardened and he let the sharp edge of the knife dog just a little deeper into her throat. He wanted her to understand that he wasn't just some weak hearted child, even if he was a pacifist for the most part. It was an unfair game and he wasn't about to let her win, especially not in front of the guards. Besides, his father would be livid if he let her go now. He didn't need the extra training sessions.

"So, rather than a chance at freedom and my aid, you refuse to loose your tongue. Perhaps I'll have to cut off your lips," As soon as he said it he was appalled with himself and yet he continued, "Unless, of course, you'll drop this useless act and speak. No normal assassin would take a job against royalty just because of money. No, you have another reason."

He was right about that. Normal murder was a short sentence in a jail or dungeon, but if you even attempted at the life of royalty it was far more likely that you'd be hunted down, tortured for months, then executed in an often painful means. Unless there was a reason behind it, an assassin wouldn't merely accept money.

Seth Aidric
Perhaps this fantasy we hope for is the lie...
Seth watched the blood begin to well up on her neck and he fought the urge to cringe. He felt sick, and this girl was sickening him. What did this girl go through to be so stubbornly morbid? It was intimidating him, but he somehow held his ground for now. With her words about the dragon, he tilted his head and stared at her with a look of sheer confusion.

"Your people are upset about the dragons? Weren't they massacring everyone, though?" It was obvious he had no idea that the dragons had been a rather diplomatic group. His father had simply told him that hundreds of lives had been lost before the law, an obvious lie for an outsider part of the Scaled Ones. He had never even heard of the people.

The guard began to move then, trying to pull her away, "Sorry, my prince, but your father will want to see this one. Please understand."

With his words, his eyes narrowed and he retracted the blade. He looked a little past the guard and suddenly frowned deeply. He wasn't about to let anyone lie to him, and the guard's words screamed conspiracy cover up. It angered him, and so he let his eyes widen as he backed up.

"Look out! There's another one behind you!" He called out suddenly. Instantly the guard let go of the girl as he spun around to take care of the more immediate threat. When he saw no one he instantly realized his mistake and began to turn back, but not before Seth mouthed the word 'run' to the girl.

Thomas Damien Wright
Perhaps, but nothing held the answers more than waking...
He was the only one in the training room, just past the showers and lockers and in a large expanse of sparring area. He could almost taste the sweat and feel the adrenaline, could nearly see an opponent swinging a fist toward his face. It filled Thomas with a strange sense of longing and he found himself crossing the arena slowly. Nothing filled the silence except for the thin clicks of his shoes and his nearly bated breath. He scarcely dared to breath 'less he disturbed the reverence of the room. Even though he knew it would soon be filled with the energy of combat, for now it was unused.

He touched the glass separating the control room and the arena before looking around for a moment. He let his mind wonder, to indulge in fantasies of what might occur here. After all of the hell he had endured throughout his life, would this truly be his reprieve? He wanted so badly for it to be so, for him to be able to smile and laugh with these people, but he feared it would be shattered somehow. The icing had to be laced with arsenic or even cyanide, right? With his luck, it was probably cantarella, and nothing would be able to detect the fatal flaw.

Despite himself, he found himself praying for a moment that he'd be able to find peace and forget some of his paranoia. In that moment he found a slice of hope, and a determination to make it so.

He turned from the glass and began his way back out. He wanted to check out the living quarters and decide whether or not he wanted to transfer here.

Seth Aidric
Perhaps we were never meant to fly...
Seth cursed under his breath as blood welled up and began to spurt from the guard's neck in perfect synchronicity to his heartbeat. A dizzy feeling came over him at the sight of it, a darkness that threatened the edges of his reality with an involuntary quivering of the mind. It took everything in him not to give in to it as he moved to catch the man, easing him to the ground. He fought against his focus, trying to ignore the undeniable warmth of the light red liquid as it poured over his hands and shirt, cooling in the night air a little too quickly for his comfort.

He laid the man down as the guard gripped the prince's arm, more of a reflex than actual comprehensive thought. Seth hated that he couldn't stay, couldn't save the man, but pulled gently free of the dying man's grasp. He turned to a nearby guard, stopping him before he could chase after the girl.

"Make sure this man's family is paid handsomely for his sacrifice. I'm going after the killer myself and I want to do it alone. I will show my father that I am no longer a weak fool," With that he was gone, streaking across the rest of the courtyard in hot pursuit of the young woman. He was covered in the blood of a loyal man, a man that didn't need to die. His blood was on the prince's head now, consequence of the young monarch's treachery.

He moved quickly, making up for lost time as he scoured the streets outside of the castle walls in search of the woman. He estimated that it wouldn't take her long to get to the fields if she headed west, so he headed that way to take the shortest route to find her.

¦•¦That's why I remain vague sometimes. I give a direction, a tiny bit of information, and let the other person take control. It's our story, not mine, not yours. Ours together. It only makes sense to treat it as such.¦•¦

Seth Aidric
Our feet are in in the shadows and our hearts in the skies...
Seth saw her, a flitting shadow amongst shadows, nearly hidden by her kin. He slowed instantly, but kept at a brisk pace that made him a little clumsier than he ought to have been. A twig snapped under his feet and he winced, stopping completely in his own dark cover. She turned, predatory eyes searching the dark, and he proceeded carefully. The coniferous forest was, however, a difficult one to conceal oneself in noiselessly and he was untrained. A twig cracked underfoot and he moved to the gloom once more, hoping she hadn't seen him but knowing, somehow, that she had. If she hadn't seen him, though, it was likely that she could smell him, or rather the blood that covered him.

He watched her, blue eyes large and owl-like as he strained his eyes to see her more clearly. She didn't seem remorseful about her kill, but he guessed that it was a matter of lesser importance to the reason she had been sent. It was easy to objectify a soldier when they shielded their face beyond a helm and wore the uniform of all those around them. Perhaps that was why she felt it wasn't that important. She did, however, look scared. Her eyes searched the darkness and her hand rested on her blade with a white-knuckled grip. She didn't want to die either. Maybe that was why she killed the man: because she found it necessary to survive. Like an animal, that must have been her only goal and if one couldn't blame a bear for being a bear how could he blame her for being her?

He stepped out of concealment, raising his bloodstained hands to show that his weapon was sheathed and of no immediate danger to her. If she was looking for survival, she wouldn't be urged to attack him if he didn't show malevolence. She wouldn't back down, but she wouldn't rush him either.

"You left families without fathers and women as widows," He began, "Your quarrel was with us royals, wasn't it? Those were honest men serving to bring bread and meat to their homes, not a royal. Your fight is with me."

His eyes betrayed no fear. The run had strengthened his resolve, banishing his homophobia and chastising his cowardice. His blood sang and it filled him with a strength he knew would doubtlessly run out at some point. This woman intimidated him quite a bit, but for now he would relish in the fact that he felt powerful.