Adrift

[Syntaphar]

He had nothing to say this time on the subject of the grandmaster. There as no getting around it, it was a clever ruse on their part. He also had nothing to say on the subject of contrition, as the Bull had already made the point he was going to slam the organization on. He would just walk onwith his companion and listen to what he had to say. Prospero wasn't particularly scared by the maul the Bull had with him. In fact, he relished the chance to see how the man swings it. He came to the conclusion that yeah, he could dodge it.Not that he wanted to test now any more than he did previously.

He would gladly recieve the artifact that was handed to him by the massive man, and pocket it swiftly. He had little understanding of what it was (besides a necklace) and what it did (besides at one point go around a neck), but he was sure the answers would all come in time. With a sincere (looking) smirk, he would look up at the battle-hardened Bull and say "Aww, ya shouldn't have. It's a very thoughtful gift." With that, he would grimace at the fact that he was told to hold out his wrist. But, he was happy to oblige, he supposed. He would carefully take off his glove and peel his sleeve back up his right arm. Beneath was an arm of extremely darker complexion than his own, of much larger bulk than the rest of his body. He had threaded enough razorwire through it that it looked like he had caught his arm in an extremely deadly spider web. Wire went in and out of the skin like thread through a stuffed doll. Even though it tightened with every move of his muscle and had dried blood over every small hole, Dario showed no signs of pain. With a light chuckle he said "I guess my secret's out. In case you were wondering, the other arm and my legs are just the same as this one. Different donors though. I would appreciate your silence on this matter and if you would just do what you need to."

[Sage]

Bull's eyes widened as he held the feather out to the man's arm. He looked from the arm to Prospero several times, trying to make a connection. " What are you, dying? " Bull shrugged and placed the feather to his necrotic skin and started an intricate pattern in ink that seemed to pour from the inside of the feather itself as it took over the task itself. He pulled away, and watched the feather continue to draw on Prospero as it faded away.

" In any event, how this works is, the tattoo creates an aura signature that the crown uses to brand people loyal enough to not need other forms of security clearance. The problem is, if you can find a phoenix feather, you can replicate the process. I'd appreciate it if you kept that a secret as well. You don't need to expose your skin again to show it, just hold out your hand wrist up, and they'll be able to see the aura. That will get you into the Residential District, and some of the patrols there, I suggest... "

Bull held out a crisp roll of paper, which appeared to have been freshly drawn. It showed directions from the Syndicate's headquarters to Toryn, and then inside Toryn on the back was a route into Xavier's hangouts and home in the Residential District. " ...you hurry and find Xavier. Also, the guards closer to the castle are more adept at reading these aura signatures, so I don't suggest any detours for side jobs on the royals. They are a necessary evil, anyway. "

Bull seemed to be absent of the enthusiasm and vitality he'd had only moments ago. His vitality had been drained somewhat by using aura magic on a person with no aura of their own. He took two steps out of the armory, and performed a final service, operating a lever which created an opening with a sliding ladder to the surface. " If you succeed, there'll be a man where we picked you up with the rest of your money. Hals- und Beinbruch, brother. " He laughed at his own bad joke as he stared at the man's legs with newfound curiosity and pointed up the ladder.

[Syntaphar]

Dario simply grimaced at both Bull's reaction and the magic being performed on him. Though he was happy to hear he wouldn't have to roll up his sleeve again. Theres some good news. before he left, Dario would carefully roll his sleeve back down and put his glove back on. He would begin to speak in a soft tone, serious as death "Never ever make a deal with a devil, sir. Even if it saves your life. In fact, especially if it saves your life. It just means you'll owe him more for a greater disservice. Having replacement limbs sounds convenient, til you realize you have to replace them every week. And not all donors are willing. I have this job for several reasons."

With that, he would climb the mechanical ladder and ignore what he said in another language. Probably just a crack at his limbs anyway. Not the first, not the last. Once he made it to the top, he would sit down for a minute and meditate on how exactly he was going to take down Xavier. After that, he would pack up and dash to his objective.

[Paroxysm]

She had always been a small town girl.

Her village had been small and not-so-crowded and wasn't all that remarkable in the least, unless one knew some of the juicy 'didn't quite occur but I somehow have some memories of them' events that may have happened (but probably didn't, because they were really out there and more often than not, she woke up remembering them, rather than living through them, or seeing them through to the end.)

Her body was clothed in two layers of black clothing, the least seen was what covered her modesty, a moderately tight piece of clothing that clung to her feminine curves when she turned in just the right way, hanging loosely otherwise, and was tied at the neck with a white ribbon, which ran up the length of its chest through small holes. Secondly, over this one-piece of clothing, which went down all the way to her thighs, she wore a capelet, which hung over her shoulders, and had a hood for her head, which aided in hiding her features.

Around her body darted a shadow, a silhouetted figure that hovered near her for but a moment, moved around her in a blur of motion, and repeated the pattern, never giving off any details of itself and completely invisible to the normal folk of Toryn; it was a good thing, too, because if any of them could see what the thing truly was, they’d know best to shy away or report her to a guard. The thing that was around her was dangerous; terrifyingly so, in fact. Still, she had almost complete control over it, and only one incident was ever reported of her losing control over it, but that had been taken care of and nobody was injured too badly, either! It wasn’t her fault (mostly), anyways!

She was really starting to miss Hillcrest and homesickness bled from her like an open wound, but there was nothing she could do about it and that was that, right?

She sighed and brought her shoulders low, her arms were hung past her knees, and if she had stretched just a bit more she could have touched her toes with her fingers.

“Nrrgh!”

She gritted her teeth and made a sound of frustration, bringing her hands back up, and running them wildly through her hair, throwing the hood back in the process.

Frames of obsidian-colored material covered her face, tinted lens blocked her eyes from plain view, but did little in obscuring her own sight, which wasn’t perfect, but close enough. Her features spoke of Cizokian heritage, full-blooded, to boot, but her voice lacked any distinguishing accent; she had been raised near the border of Cizok, still in Algeroth territory, and spoke both languages well enough. Aside from her Cizokian heritage, a common trait amongst the people of Algeroth, no doubt, as it was so close to the other nation, was that her skin was a natural pale, with applied blush on her cheeks. It wasn’t an unhealthy looking skin tone, at least, and it went with her looks; her cropped hair, however, was a hit or miss with people, she was told.

“Why do I have to do this!? I didn’t start the fire,” she screamed at the top of her lungs and no doubt drew the attention of those passing by or idling near the street she walked.

She looked about herself suddenly, blushed, and started walking at a hurried pace.

The shadow-cloaked entity that moved around her body kept up effortlessly, making a yipping sound occasionally, nudging her body, and moving away again.

“Freaking hate this place,” she muttered to herself as she slowed down a bit.
“The academy, the students, that stupid book, punishment, and suspension--they can all die!”

Her voice died down; she continued walking the streets and thinking fond thoughts of her home in Hillcrest.

She had always been a small town girl, after all.

[Sage]

The sun had dipped completely past the horizon now, and the streets of the Trade District were lit strangely by a soft orange glow which was cast across the entire district from the guard posts every hundred or so feet. Each post was equipped with a tiny squadron of one soldier, one archer, and one pyrokinetic...whom was responsible for maintaining their lantern throughout the night.

It would be easy enough for a traveler such as Dario to get inside the first gate, even without his helpful aura signature. The guards would regard him strangely as he passed close enough for them to see the tiny amount of aura issuing from his wrist. Without a normal aura to disguise it, it was a beacon for attention among those experienced enough to be looking for such a mark. But he would meet no resistance for the moment, and would not until he attempted to enter the Residential District. He would need to travel diagonally from the eastern gate on the outermost wall to either the northern or southern gate set in the secondary wall. It was a design that kept attackers from quickly being able to penetrate the heart of the city, where the castle stood. And an effective one, at that, if a slight inconvenience for it's own people.

As he passed into the city limits, which began well short of the outermost wall but did not cross into Darkwood, several cloaked patrols of two could be seen walking the grounds. The purpose of these were to protect the few residences completely outside the city walls, as well as some of the more common stables and animal pens. His path would lead him out of the forest, and according to the map, he would enter the Trade District through the eastern gate, which made the most sense as it was closest.

Though many of the shops in the outer Trade District closed at nightfall, some Algerothians and foreigners did wander it at night. Some were employed to clean the market stalls and sweep the street, while other more unsavory characters begged for change from passerby, or scavenged things left behind in the stalls and smaller shops, taking advantage of the decreased guard activity in the district after nightfall.

" Hey, Mister. "

Everything about her was innocent enough, though her eyes gave her away by being drawn to the large chest the man carried. She was a fair-skinned little girl, with a mild sunburn starting to show on the tops of her bare shoulders and nose. She wore a simple black dress which was frayed and slightly faded, though relatively clean. It appeared like it might have been washed multiple times in a short amount of time, and worn repeatedly. She wore stockings which alternated between white and black horizontal stripes, and were coming apart at the bottom, as she wore no shoes. Her hands were linked behind her back, and she lifted her heels and craned her neck back to look up into the man's face.

" Whatcha doin'? "

[Syntaphar]

After Dario's long walk, another piece of civilization was very nice to see. Especially one of comparable size to his home. Though this place certainly seemed more... wholesome. All in all, a good change. In fact, this place was nifty as hell. He scanned the region, laughing to himself at the amateur thiefwork the scavengers were showing. Prospero was doing better than that when he was six years old. He was about to continue on his way when he heard a small voice.

Now most of the people in his profession hated kids, but Dario couldn't imagine why. At the very least, they were handy to have on your side. Good distractions, apt (though distractable) lookouts. If they weren't on your side, they were liabilities and dangers to missions. And they were wellsprings of potential for good or for evil. There's something admirable about that. The way this particular girl looked, it was hard to tell which way it was going to go. He'd seen cases like this one go either way. And the way she looked at the ebony chest betrayed either her childish curiosity, or her intent to steal it when he wasn't looking, as many of the urchins in his hometown would. No need to get upset about it though, he would just keep a close hold on it.

While still walking, he would slick back his hair again with his right, empty arm, and give the kindest expression he could, which revealed his still youthful eyes over the back of his sunglasses. He would say in a cheerful voice: "Oh, hi there! I was just on my way to the residential district to find one of my old friends that I haven't seen in a while. He has to help me finish a job I'm working on. He goes by the name of Xavier, if you've met him. So what is someone like you doing out here so late at night? With all these tramps and thieves around, it's hardly safe. And before you ask, the chest I'm carrying just has some personal trinkets inside it, nothing all that important. Business papers, pens, pencils, stuff like that."

[Sage]

Algeroth was indeed a more wholesome place than most, and those who turned to evil were usually slower about it. It was highly unlikely to find a very bad-natured child wandering around inside the city limits, even a homeless one as was the case here. As he walked past her, she strained to catch up, working her little legs almost twice as often as him to keep up with his stride.

" I was looking for someone, too. But I don't think I'll find her at night, I'll have to wait 'til tomorrow, I guess. " She tilted her head as she delivered a peaceful smile, though her eyes again betrayed a profound emotion she was feeling: Grief.

" I only know Saint Xavier. His statue is my favorite, they just finished it in the Residential District. " As they passed a patrol of guards, who appeared to be considering approaching the pair, the tiny girl skittered up to the man's side and grasped his hand, as a frightened child might a parent. The guards gave each other quizzical glances, looking back and forth between the pair once or twice each before continuing in the direction they had been headed, to relieve one of the many guard stations along the outer wall. Once they were out of sight of the men, she realized her transgression and quickly recoiled her hand, falling several paces behind him, though still following.

" Sorry...and I didn't mean to stare at your box-thingy. It's just pretty, reminds me of the one I used to have near my bed, but it was a lot bigger. " Platinum blonde locks fell out of place before her eyes as she lowered her gaze to the ground, remembering that very object. It had been a favorite hiding spot of her sister's during a game they played. She considered Dario, and how different he was from most businessmen she knew. Merchants and the like usually took a proactive approach in purposefully ignoring people like her. Beggars in Algeroth, though few in number were seen as a disease, as though associating with them would literally drain your coin.

[Syntaphar]

Dario got a sort of peaceful feeling when he realized that maybe this wasn't all too bad a place to walk around at night. The guards were numerous, the crime was sparse and low-level. It was like taking a walk around a peaceful lake. And from his understanding, the residential district was even safer. He listened carefully to the girls words as they walked, though his eyes remained mostly on the path to the target's district. He'd look to her after her first comment, and with a wide-eyed and smiling face, say: "I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much. Things work out tha way they're supposed to in this world. And if not in this world, then tha next."

"Oh really? I cert'inly do love a good statue. I wonder if this sainted guy is related ta the Xavier I'm lookin' for. Ah, but I guess in that case, their last names would both be Gottheit, 'stead a' havin' the same first name. I must admit, that wasn't my smartest thought all day." Being that he could not feel his arms (yet another thing he had gotten used to), and that he was looking forward, he had not even noticed that the young girl had grapped his hand, and he kept walking as cheery as before. When she was just about to let go and the guards were gone, Dario would look down, notice, and give a small yelp, pulling his hand back towards him. Hopefully, she didn't get cut on the razorwire just under his glove. It was sharp enough that a nasty cut might not even be noticed for a minute or so. Happy to change the subject after that awkward moment, Dario would listen to her ramble about the box.

He would reply: "Ah, no problem lookin' at it. I just worry sometimes, 'cause my home's fulla tiny thieves 'bout yer age. Hard habit to break, tryin' to be careful round everyone. Gets wearisome not bein' able to trust anyone. One sorta just recoils inta themselves, blamin' everyone else for all that's bad in society. I dunno." Dario realized the irony of a trained assassin complaining that he couldn't trust anyone to a street urchin girl, and he chose to ignore it at the time.

"Anyway, ya sound like ya've had some strange times behind ya, and I foresee strange times for ya in the future. Name's Dario Ferrini. Prospero if ya like. Name caught on one day, don't worry 'bout it, it don't mean much. What's yer name?"

[Sage]

She couldn't come up with a response to that. If things worked out the way they were supposed to, were here parents supposed to have died, leaving her alone? Was she supposed to have been left in charge of her sister, only to lose her after she found out? She didn't even want to think about her life coming together in the next life. For one so young it was far too frightening, and she did not know if she had been a good enough person after all this to go where her family would be going.

" Gottheit? " The girl gave him a sour look, as a girl her age might when an adult gave the 'beacause I said so' reason for making her do something, or attempting to trick her in general. " I think someone's playing a trick on you, maybe. Saint Xavier Gottheit was a war hero, he's up with my parents now. All that's down here is the statue. "

She took another good look at the chest. It was an awkward way to carry one's belongings, but then again, that could just be how people acted where he came from. She felt a mild stinging on her right thumb, and looked down at her hand. Several tiny beads of red were forming on the side of her right thumb, and as she touched them with her forefinger she disturbed the skin across a tiny razor-cut and flinched. Her head swiveled around, looking for something that might of bit her, and even down at her dress to see if something sharp might have gotten caught near her pocket, but there would be nothing. She stuck the tip of her thumb in her mouth to clean it and numb the dull pain somewhat.

The talk of thieves woke her up. She prided herself on the fact that during her short experience with poverty, she had yet to take anything that anyone else needed. She washed her clothes in the river outside the northwest tower, and used the few silver pieces she'd taken from home to buy bread just before it was thrown out, so that it would be cheap. However, she still did not like the term, and dreaded the day that someone might be calling her that.

" I hope so. I'll be fine once I find my sister, I just have to stay away from the guards until then. " She regretted the admission almost as soon as she'd made it, worried that she might have trusted him a little too much. She giggled once, nervously at the man's name, attempted to change the subject. " You got a funny name, Ferri. Um, I'm...Emma. Just Emma. "

[Syntaphar]

Dario thought for a minute at the admonishment that she had given him, but quickly recalled that the man was technically dead already. Why shouldn't he have died for martyrdom or some such cause. Although Dario began to get that weird feeling he got in his stomach whenever he was paid to kill a hero. All he could really hope for at this point was that Hell didn't have levels. "Sometimes, there is a bit more to a man than life or death. He left somethin' behind when he went, and that's what i'm here ta see. Whether he wants me to or not, ya see. It's a strange matter, and I only don't explain it to ya 'cause I don't understand m'self."

He felt a twinge of guilt when he saw that he had cut her. With a deep sigh and a rolling of his eyes at himself, he would stop in the middle of the road and put the chest on the ground. He would then bend down to her level, one foot resting lightly on the box he had set. He would then rip a thin but lengthy strip of his black shirt, which would reveal a small amount of his right, Xexorian arm. It was night though, and he could only hope that no one would notice. If allowed to, he would take her cut hand, and wrap and tie the strip of makeshift gauze around it. "I'm real sorry about that thumb of yours. This won't make it hurt any less, but it'll stop tha bleeding and keep germs n' dust outta tha cut."

With that, he would stand back up with his duffel bag and chest, and walk on, already forgetting his arm was partially exposed. Or at least not caring enough to do anything about it. "Well it's real nice ta meet ya, Emma. And actually, Ferri's a new one on me. Don't know if I like it yet, but I certainly don't mind it."

[Sage]

She listened carefully, trying to explain what it was that a Saint might leave behind for a stranger like this Ferri character. It embarrassed her to judge him in that way, even more so when he destroyed his own clothes to help her. Her face contorted in a strange way when he did so, and she stared at him through a cloud of mist which was forming before her auburn orbs.

" You should be nicer to your things. You never know when they'll be taken away from you. " Regardless of her objection, she took the strip from him and wrapped her thumb, tying it tight. With this act, though, she seemed to notice something odd about Dario, or rather, something missing. She circled around him once, and tilted her head, trying to make sense of her finding.

" Hey, Mister? " She tilted her head back from the side and up into the assassin's face, concern apparent in her expression. " Why don't you glow? "

[Syntaphar]

Dario, walking on with box and bag in tow, would respond to her observation with a sort of apathetic answer. "What, this shirt? This is really my only one on me right now, and I certainly hope it never gets ta the point where someone takes it away from me. Life's too short ta think of it in terms o' material possession." Again, he chose to ignore the obvious irony involved in the situation and what he just said.

As she dashed around him, peering up, he would stare back, both amused and perplexed with her antics. Upon her rather awkward question to which he had no answer, he would answer: "I don't know, honestly. I'm not from around here, ya know, so maybe that's part of it. A hail from way out across tha border, and I try to stay away from there whenever I got tha chance. It could also be that I have no special powers about me, just skills I've taught myself over tha years. All I know is, that phoenix feather thing I got on my arm is a new feeling ta me. Almost like there was more life in my arm than ever before. I dunno."

With that, he would slick back his hair with the arm with the torn sleeve and the phoenix mark. This conversation had the potential to get very awkward, but he wasn't going to outright lie to the girl. She didn't deserve that.

[Sage]

She sulked as he expressed his view on the subject. " That may be true, but would you feel the same if that was the only shirt you had since you were my age? " The girl was obviously hurt, though she tried valiantly to hide it. She knew he did her a favor, but it was hard to ignore the loss of everything in her life except for the clothes on her back and a week's worth of silver, and not apply said loss to other situations.

" But, everyone glows. I don't have any powers, and even I glow. She held out her arms, flitting across the street as though she were displaying the teal flame that surrounded her as she did so. She didn't even consider that he couldn't see Aura as she did. When he mentioned a Phoenix however, her attention quickly turned, and her eyes grew with wonderment. " You've seen a Phoenix, lemme see! "

As he lifted his arm, she carefully focused on it, and saw a tiny black wisp of what look like smoke issuing from his wrist. " I've never seen that color, are you sick, Ferri? " She nodded, as adamant in the truth of her assumption as she was that the sun would rise the next day over Algeroth. " You're lucky. I wish I could have seen a Phoenix. I could ask it to help me find my sister. "

From Xavier's dossier, Prospero would have been able to deduce that Phoenix were worshiped in Algeroth. It was more than that they were sacred, they were deities among these people, and to come into contact with even a feather of one was a blessing of a lifetime.

[Syntaphar]

Dario felt another twinge of guilt when he realized he had hit a sore spot. All he could really do was awkwardly scratch his head for a second after her first comment. He didn't really have an answer to the second either, but he tried for one. "I am not really sure what makes people glow. Maybe it's an Algeroth thing. maybe it has something to do with a deal I amde a long time ago. There really is no telling."

When she seemed exuberant about the phoenix, he could only sputter a few "But I-"'s and "I haven't-"s before she grabbed his arm. And it took him a second to notice that she did, too, what with the dullness of feeling. He answered her dreamily "I guess I must be sick, I dunno. Although you have ta promise me that you will never, ever touch my hands, arms 'r legs without sleeves covering them. You will almost certainly get cut again, and theres little I can do about that right now. you saw what happened earlier, and that was barely a touch."

He realized at this point that he was being a little too harsh with her, and brought the kindly expression back to his face. "I don't have that much shirt to offer you as a bandage if you get seriously hurt, Emma. what made this happen is in the past, and I try not to let it affect the present so much."

[Sage]

Their little walk had led them to the north gate of the secondary wall, and the guard presence there was heavy. They stood along the length of the gate, shoulder to shoulder, leaving no gaps. Emma slowed her trotting to a slow step, and then stopped just out of earshot of the guards, and began backing up. She wouldn't be able to get any farther, she hadn't had the foresight an adult might have had to gather her proof of citizenship from her home when she had escaped the first time, and unless Dario knew he could use his to get her in, their walk together would be over.

" I should tell you where the statue is, so you can go see it. Didn't you say you had some stuff to write with in your box-thingy? " Her eyes were on the guards, nervously. These would not break ranks to chase her, though they could easily call more to gather her up if she was recognized. She backed into an abandoned market stall in a feigned attempt to find something to lean on, so she could give the man his directions.