|
Post by Gaia on Aug 9, 2020 11:38:19 GMT -8
::Orbit - Tribal Grounds::
Given time to explore the subject, today's modern scientists would learn that the pioneers of space travel were the Ancient Murians. Aligned at the very edge of the Earth's moon's orbit, a massive structure was carefully built in reverence to the Great Being, using their masterful craft to keep it always on the side of the moon facing away from the Earth - an unseen wonder, and looking in all ways from the outside as an asteroid that floats curiously close to the Moon.
The only hint of its true purpose was the Crest of Mu emblazoned just above one of the large craters dotting its surface, which was the entrance into the temple within the structure.
Orbiting the moon, the ancient Murians used their powerful technology to instantly transport themselves into the temple, and made it a place where life would be fostered. Leaving the temple grounds was a death sentence, the cold of space and the speed of orbit destroying most entities, and the massive amounts of viruses that the intense EM Waves attracted serving for the doom of any wave being to encroach upon it.
The inside of the temple is a massive, expansive system of interconnected halls and stairways, with tiki-like statues and large pillars with great flames burning atop them, the flames constantly bouncing between pillars. The floors, a carefully polished grey stone, have slight cracks in them from age, but stand strong despite it all. Large statues rest in inset alcoves on the walls, depicting great soldiers, and some discarded suits of armor litter the ground. On almost every surface where it would fit, the Crest of Mu is emblazoned, be it wrapped in tiny circles along pathways, or fully dominating a wall.
As with other temples, more history is written on the walls, depicted in murals and in the strange, line-based language of the Murians. Some of the door ways have been blocked off by collapsed ruins, furniture and pillars toppled over, and pathways between locations seem to have collapsed over time, making the criss-crossing pathways of stone seem dangerous and inhospitable.
Despite floating in space, the air is very crisp and clean, if not a little dusty, and the fires that burned provided a sense of warmth. The gravity is also not at all different from what one would expect, still feeling as though they walked on Earth. Something to the air was roughly palpable, though, and could be best described with only one word - artificial.
No signs of the previous inhabitants mark the landscape of the ruined temple, but, surprisingly, the pathway from the entrance to the large pedestal, erected on a large set of stairs, remains completely clear for its new arrivals to take.
|
|
|
Post by Warrior on Aug 9, 2020 18:26:07 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/U4Xclbh~png Feint was the first to step out of the portal this time, finding herself already in the temple. Burai did instruct her not to leave it, so it wasn't surprising that it's where she'd start out.
She didn't spend much time looking around, so it wasn't obviously apparent to her yet that she was in space, but the difference of the air here was noticed immediately.
The path forward seemed straightforward enough, but she'd wait for Burai before marching along, remembering that he wanted to end this encounter as swiftly as possible -- a stratagem she was known not to excel in.
|
|
|
Post by Gaia on Aug 9, 2020 19:25:29 GMT -8
A sudden chill ran down Feint's neck, as though a breeze had just rolled in. Turning to look at the portal, expecting Burai to climb out of it behind her, she would instead watch it pointedly close, without Burai rising to join her.
Where was he? Why did the portal close? Had he sent her, unaccompanied, into a temple that she knew nothing about? Her uncertainties, expecting him to climb up after her, made her suddenly feel alone and foolish - what would she do, to end this encounter quickly, if he was not there to help her?
. . . " Cherish? What are you doing here? "
The voice started as barely a whisper, but, without a doubt, as she turned towards its source, she would inevitably see him, standing there. He was in his normal, human state, not covered by the form of the Remnant that he had become, but he stood there, glancing across the expanse at her.
The expanse was previously empty. Her mind told her that, but her eyes seemed to have another thing. The pathway winded away from the central path towards a large, cleared away square where her late brother stood, glancing out past the ruined statues and destroyed monuments to stare inquisitively at her.
"Feint? What are you looking at? Feint?!"
Another voice spoke to her, but seemed far off, and as she sought after that one, its source was insubstantial. No, there was no one else here - just the ruins, the destruction, that strange, constant chill in the air, and David Pele, flesh and bone, right in front of her.
All she had to do was step out into the expanse. The empty expanse, her brain would tell her. The pathway that would lead to her brother, her eyes tried to remind it.
|
|
|
Post by Warrior on Aug 10, 2020 9:03:10 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/rTh7rpS~png Cherish's self-confidence did not allow her to wane as she had done earlier during the fight with the Condor. If Burai sent her here alone, then this was the time to test just how well she stood up to the guardians without him carrying the brunt of the weight. It was a bit sudden for a change of pace, but it was what necessitated going forward.
Her pupils shrank just a little as she heard the voice behind her, however. She knew it well, but it had been a long time since she had heard it. It still spoke with the tone of a whisper though, just as he always had ever since he'd become the phantom that she remembered him as. Somehow or another, "The Remnant" must have been trapped here all these years, but it was relieving to know that her brother actually was still alive. Well, his digital copy, at least.
" ! "
Her stoic expression cracked completely when she had turned around; the masked pain beneath it coming to front as false bravado crumbled away.
She had expected to see him in his ghostly form, but no, this was the real David Pele, not the carbon copy that had been wearing his face for the past decade. Her prejudice against navis never sat well that her own flesh and blood had quintessentially become one. This was before she realized her prejudice was misplaced, of course. "The Remnant" was abomination of her brother, an insult to his legacy, a soulless replica -- she had many sharp words to describe it, and she verbalized them quite often, too.
But standing before her now was nothing of the sort.
It was the real face of her real brother, and to see it in its true form and color after so many years...
" ... David? "
It struck her to her core.
Everything she had become now was manufactured to compensate for the foundation that she had lost when he died. Her soul was one fortified with walls built by broken pillars. But now, one pillar stood back up; the wall that it was made from was gone, exposing the frailty it had been put in place to protect.
There was more than just pain in her eyes though: there was fear as well. She never did cope with her loss -- she merely buried the grief by overworking herself with any task that could keep her mind off of her sorrow. It turned her into a rather bitter and cold individual, much more than he'd remember her for.
He wouldn't be proud to see that; he'd be disappointed.
She wanted to step forward to approach him, but the fear of his nonacceptance weighed on her too strongly. She didn't even register the other voice calling out to her in the moment.
" Is this where you've been? "
Her own voice much softer and more fragile than it usually sounded, as if she had been deepening it whenever she spoke before now.
Her mind found its own way to justify what her eyes were seeing: in pursuit to reclaim his life, David must have been the one that had been experimenting with the guardians. Burai revealed to her rather recently that, at the lake, the individual responsible was able to master the Murian craft to such an extent that they could recreate life. The pieces fit together perfectly that David would have been the one responsible for awakening the guardians in pursuit to restore his human life. He was certainly strong enough to do it on his own, in her eyes.
But it stung to think of why he would have never returned to find her, after the fact. Perhaps he retained his memories as "The Remnant", and all of her misdeeds and cruelty toward him were coming back to bite her now.
She waited for his response, staring back hopefully at him, but there was far more than simply empty space that separated them: a mountain of insecurity stood there as well.
|
|
|
Post by Gaia on Aug 10, 2020 12:34:14 GMT -8
David smiled broadly, happily, at her, as he took a few steps forward, closing that distance between them, but not quite enough where Feint could reach out to touch him. To do that, she'd have to step forward.
To do that, she'd have to fall to her doom.
Her sincere voice, the softness in it, seemed to make his eyes shine back at her, the darkness of her own memories blown away by the opportunity this provided. " I suppose you could say something like that. " His voice was still somewhat far off, but was steadily solidifying, as if each moment that David stood before her was another moment he was becoming more real.
" It really is me. I can't explain it, but, something happened and I woke up here . . . there are a lot of weird spaces in my memories, though, of me running around in a place that looked a lot like the cyberworld, but, my clothes were all wrong, and they couldn't possibly be true. " He held his hand up to his eyes and rubbed them, and, as he pulled them away, she would notice the bags underneath them, like he had done this often. He seemed to still be getting over whatever it was that was haunting him - like he, too, was being haunted by the Remnant.
" . . . but it is, isn't it? All those things . . . I did them. " David paused here, turning up to look at her, his smile strong but fading, as if taking a tremendous weight to keep it up. " And you said and did all of those things, too. "
His voice was hurt, and tears began brimming in his eyes, but he kept staring at her, as if begging for her to explain how she could come to be cruel to the only thing that remained of him in the world, even if it was a fake.
"You filthy parasite. What are you showing her? Why can't I drag her out of it?"
"Is it really that hard to guess? I suppose it might be . . . why do you care, though? She isn't anywhere in your dark history."
"I'll decide where my dark history goes from here, so don't you go rifling through it. Cut the dramatics and let's get this over with."
"Actually, I think you, too, need a little trip down memory lane. Murian or not, I don't like your attitude - Phantom Illusion!"
|
|
|
Post by Warrior on Aug 10, 2020 16:20:12 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/jtCC4d3~png " ... "
Cherish's eyes brightened at the way he'd looked at her, one side of her lip curling gently upward in relief at the acceptance in his eyes. Like a prey staring into the lure of an anglerfish, she was still oblivious to anything else going on around her as her gaze stayed locked on her brother's.
One of her feet even slid forward slightly to take the step toward him, but froze midway through the motion as she saw his countenance change; her own following swiftly behind.
" And you said and did all of those things, too. "
" ... "
Her pained expression returned, this time much more intensely than before as her fear became reality -- just the thought that he didn't forgive her felt like a knife into her heart, much less the confirmation of it that she now had.
Her eyes strained to keep open as they glazed over with unshed tears; her frown somehow sinking further despite her clenched teeth trying to keep it up.
" I... "
She choked on her voice, her eyes darting around as if looking for some escape to the situation; searching for any excuse not to look directly at him. She didn't know what to say or do, she looked like a cornered pup with death approaching from all angles; unable to back away, unable to fight forward, unable to do anything but let it continue its slow approach until it overtook her.
It was fortunate that she couldn't see the real danger that she was in, else she may have stepped into it willingly to escape her distress.
But there was no escaping it now. Her flustered eyes finally resting on the ground in the middle space between them, unable to make eye contact with him.
" You should go... "
Her voice was less shaky now, but still distraught. It was easier to get more control over it when she wasn't looking at him -- easier to think straighter.
She was changing the subject; her only weapon against the anguish. If there was anything Cherish Pele never learned to do effectively, it was to deal with her deepest emotions head on and expose the core of who she was to anybody else. When she was much younger, her brother was her confidant, her greatest idol. The Remnant could not fill that void though, and now that their bond was severed by her hand, she didn't have the capability to repair it.
She did what she had always done, then: she embraced her isolation and put her sights elsewhere to silence the pity party in her mind. Hers was a brand of weakness, but it made her feel stronger if it was her own choice.
" ... Rayner and Faith will want to see you. "
It felt much better to push than to be pushed.
|
|
|
Post by Gaia on Aug 11, 2020 8:58:15 GMT -8
A surge of wind kicked up, another chilling presence running down her neck, and the temple seemed to fade away until they stood in the living room of their old home. The memory was off center, not as Cherish would remember it, but, how David may have. He walked by and picked up a picture from the mantle, staring at it, as he turned his eyes, still hurt and unsure, back on Cherish. So, it was to the point that she couldn't even bear to look at him from her guilt?
" You never were good for handling your emotions . . . I've been watching, you know. You made a mess of things with the NIA, only to sell your soul to them all over again. " He seemed to completely ignore her statement about Faith and Rayner, focusing instead on her. The memories of the temple were fading away, as if this was what she had before her, and nothing else. " Maybe its those harsh memories you have of me . . . through everything, even with me right in front of you . . . "
David Pele seemed to freeze, as a horrible visage passed over him, an image of death as his body seemed to wither away. The picture he held, of him and Cherish standing together happily, fell to the floor with a crash. As the glass shattered, so too did their picture-perfect living room, leaving the shattered pieces around Feint as she was left face to face with what may have been her worst nightmare - the Remnant.
" . . . this is all that you can see. The anger you held, the ferocity you wielded against me with both your words and your actions. With everything you had to defied my existence, when I was just fighting to survive! Is this easier for you? Does this give you something to at least deflect your anger at?! " The Remnant stood before her, furious, his power palpable, but his rage unbearable. That helmet covered his eyes, any semblance of a connection between them gone as it bore into her very soul.
"Ooh-oooh. A resilient one, you are - you can partially see through the illusions, can't you? Must be that Murian blood."
Burai huffed out a response, unbeknownst to Feint having to take a knee before the Phantom Black, a threat, she would not currently see. "What was that? You . . . you should not have that power."
"You mean the human from your reality that was using my power did not know how to properly use it."
"!"
"Using the Phantom Illusion to just phase in and out of reality - what a joke! A soldier could be made completely unaware of the army that stands alongside him, or a single soldier could appear as a battalion. Worst fears brought to fruition, the worst traumas relived, friend become foe, fear turned bravery, impossibilities become rational . . . honestly, that human is an insult." A slicing current of shadow, barely brushing the back of Feint's neck, cold as winter, would be all that she felt - Burai fell back, the first wound he'd suffered since coming to his world appearing on his chest.
"The barrier . . . doesn't recognize that I am in danger? . . . But, why? All the other guardians . . . they were in a rage. Why are you still . . . cognizant? You can recognize me as a Murian . . . why are you doing this?"
"Of course it can't. You can't even see me anymore, my voice barely a whisper. Your mind took a little more effort, but, I've noticed a few chinks that you wouldn't have if you hadn't gone on your little absorption spree - all of those minds and wills, granting you their power, it's quite astounding how you can even think straight. That force of will is astounding - but their fears and histories can be manipulated from where I stand. Even if you are not as susceptible, with enough minds confused and deranged within you, you'll tear yourself apart while I watch. Oh, this couldn't have gone better if I scripted it."
Burai grimaced at the words, as he felt his own mind suffering under the very effects that the Phantom Black described, but he struggled to maintain his hold on reality, even as he heard the screams, saw the blur of battle, and even the fears and blunders of the divinity he carried. "You . . . didn't . . . answer me, you coward!"
Light footsteps against the temple floors, as the Phantom Black approached Burai. "I might. I might not. I'm willing to see just how long you can maintain your cool before a certain conquest of yours notices your weakness - a lot of power is shored up within you, oh 'Last Murian.' As far as I'm concerned, the only allegiances I hold are to the Leviathan Spear and my Mother. Both are being considered - and, so, I defend my charge from a would-be invader."
|
|
|
Post by Warrior on Aug 11, 2020 13:47:49 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/jtCC4d3~png Cherish winced as the portrait and the scenery shattered around her, flinching as if the sound itself had struck her. She could look at his face now that the black visors covered his eyes, but seeing herself in their reflection, as he saw her now, full of fear and rejection, she knew she couldn't facade what she was feeling. " You're scaring me... "
She saw the sincerity in her own eyes as she continued staring into the visors that covered his.
" ... this isn't you. "
It may have implied she had seen through the illusion, but really it was her reaching out to her brother emotionally. He'd always been one to protect her when she was in danger, and even when she only felt like she was in danger. While her voice was still frail and shaky, the words themselves were cries of help.
Tears streamed now as the chill swept the back of her neck: she thought it to be nothing more than intensity of her anguish having physical effect on her -- her mind still making excuses to justify her surroundings.
Slowly, she raised her gun and pointed at him with a shaking hand.
" Is this what you want? "
She didn't pull the trigger, but even if she did, they both knew the shot wouldn't kill him. If he wanted her to vent her anger, it was only fair that she complied; her misdeeds demanded atonement, after all. But that wasn't at all what she wanted.
All she wanted now was an embrace: if not his, then death's.
|
|
|
Post by Gaia on Aug 12, 2020 12:03:37 GMT -8
The Remnant stared her down as she pointed her gun at him, reaching for the sword that he carried. His visor reflected the image of her pointing her gun at him, and, somehow, in the reflection, it was almost possible to see the trick of the light telling her that she was actually pointing the gun at herself.
" Oh, is that it, then? This isn't me? What have you been doing, then, with your memories of me? Running them through the mud, from how I heard things. Using that as a defense, when you'd previously used it as justification. " He mocked her, stepping forward from his place in the void they had been left with, as, miraculously, the temple came back into view.
" If you won't at least look me in the eyes with a bit of conviction when you try to put a bullet in my head, then just leave. You know where the door is. I might decide to still be here when you're ready to face those emotions. " The coldness of his voice told her that he didn't believe she'd ever be ready.
"Grah! You're . . . really pushing your luck, filth!"
"It looks like you're the one pushing yours." His laugh was as cold as ice, and mirthless. "What grand designs, that a simple warrior would grant himself the right to hold all of that power! Don't you think that if Mother wished you to hold the power of the gods, She would have given it to you?"
Burai snarled, fighting through the pain of the illusions and the shadow strikes alike to glare up at him. "You don't . . . get to refer to Her as Mother as you stand against Her people! You dare betray the Murian people?!"
"Very presumptuous of you! Please, the Murians betrayed each other. There isn't a Murian people to betray anymore, they all saw to that themselves!"
"So long as the Great Being yet lives, the Murian culture can thrive! I will bear testament to that - I promise it by my blood!"
"You know," he cackled, another step, another blast of wind, and another wound borne, "for the last descendant of a people that chose to carve their history on any surface that would fit it, you sure don't seem to remember how it goes! Remember - Wul: Their search led them to Earth's End. And there they found the Great Being, the source of all EM waves.
"Your people had power that led them to Mother; you were gifted for your worship of her. That is all! That is all it will ever be! The Great Being lived long before your worship, and the concept of Mu still stood without you. All your petty people accomplished was abusing Mother's power to wage war, on all of the world, and then each other. Mother gave you gifts and splendor, and all you did was drain her until she could do nothing but sink beneath the waves! We were not created to be beholden to the Murian people; we were created to do as Mother taught us to. The Heralds that forgot this have forgotten their place, and their duty - I have not forgotten mine!"
|
|
|
Post by Warrior on Aug 12, 2020 13:50:48 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/7OIRIGI~png " That's not fair! "
She wasn't screaming, but her tone was more aggressive now. She didn't deny that she wasn't ready to face those feelings, or even that she ever would be, but it wasn't a shared pain that he could judge her for.
" I never stopped missing you, and it never stopped hurting to remember you. "
She was a younger girl when it all happened, and she never realized how dependent she was of her brother's comfort until he was gone. Her coping method was simply to ignore the burden, distracting her mind with whatever she could put herself fully into, and unfortunately it worked a bit too well.
As the story goes, her family and friends were rightfully concerned, but when they'd go to talk to her about it, it only reminded her of what she was trying to tune out. Her stubbornness won against their persistence; eventually she enlisted into NIA while she was under the minimum age, falsifying her identity in order to do so and orchestrating her fake kidnapping to send her family looking elsewhere. And that was the next misfortune to befall her: she succeeded completely.
Years later, however, her father and his subordinate, Faith Nymphra, were contracted by NIA for classified work at the facility she was stationed at. Their reunion was certainly memorable, but not for any good reasons. When the truth of her illegal enlistment was laid bare to her superior officers, Cherish was discharged immediately, and dishonorably at that. Rather than repairing wounded bonds, she took sharper scissors to them and continued going her own way, refusing the apologies and re-welcoming of those responsible.
Shortly afterward was when she adopted the moniker of "Feint", specifically "Feint.EXE". While her human identity was blacklisted, she was once again able to enlist into NIA under the guise of an independent NetNavi. The process was surprisingly even easier, her only complication being the lengths of time she'd have to remain Pulsed In to maintain the deception. This only lasted for about a year before she was exposed once again, this time courtesy of Jacob Rayner and his "Remnant" -- the first encounter she had with her "brother" since his untimely passing.
But her real brother would never betray her like that, and when she'd heard the full story, her suspicions were correct: he was indeed just a digital copy of him; inheriting his memories, but not his consciousness. A part of her was still glad to be able to hold on to the grief; it justified many of her actions. But her greater part was starting to realize who she had become during all of this, and fueled more by shame than by grief at this point, she continued isolating herself from anyone that cared about her. While NIA was now permanently off of the table after all was said and done, the hopeless pursuit of it did suffice as something to keep her busy, so that was the direction that she chose to endlessly run in.
Every part of who she was now was because of that critical loss when she was younger. She'd be a much different woman had her older brother never been taken from her. While other, better people could recover from similar or even worse despair and still develop just fine, she was a tragic case of one who couldn't.
Such was the road of the loner.
" ... "
Her mood was slowly changing as her mind brought all of her betrayals to the front. The anguish in her face was still clearly visible, but frustration shared its place now as she raised the gun to her own head, the barrel touching her temple as her eyes sharpened with the conviction that they lacked before.
" You've never had to watch someone you love die in front of you. "
There was condescension in her voice now. She threatened to show him just what she felt, but she waited for his reaction, giving him one last chance to intervene before her decision was written in stone.
|
|
|
Post by Gaia on Aug 15, 2020 10:11:50 GMT -8
The Remnant stares at her as she shifts the aim of the gun, holding off on his sword as he stared at her, confused, but not obviously bothered. Underneath his visor, his eyes stared at her intensely, but his lip lost its angry appeal and just melted into a frown.
" Right. I forgot. Dying before everyone had the chance was my fault. "
He relaxed his stance and just watched her, as if intent on seeing if she really had the gall to do it. " I will not stop you. So go ahead. Come on and join me. We can find somewhere in the beyond to discuss all these differences between us . . . or just hate each other for all eternity. "
". . . You really do love him, don't you? A pain so grand you'd be willing to sacrifice everything just to appease his anger, even at this cost to yourself . . . you threaten your life, but you know could never do it. It would be a burden too great for him to bear, and it is your job to carry his burdens . . . Isn't it?"
The voice broke through the haze around her like a warm spring breeze, a melodious, soothing symphony that moved in stark contrast to the piercing chill she had felt before. It had this sort of strange sense to it, like listening to the calming crackle of fires in the hearth, but the source is not easily seen. "I could hear you, from even where I rested . . . the care even extends to those you know nothing about. You would stand before the crashing tide that even he faces, suffer his pain for him, if he would let you . . ."
At her words, a bit of the facade around Feint fades away. While still foggy and unsure, like a gentle warmth defrosting a window, two figures appear in a struggle next to her.
The first she recognized, but only barely - Burai was never one she expected to find on his knees, chest leaned forward, almost bowing, as he clutched his hands to his head in an attempt to blot something out. She was also unaccustomed to seeing scrapes, bruises, and cuts along his body, the black bodysuit covering his form damaged and bloodied.
The other, a being smiling a snide grin, stared down at Burai, holding up his cane as he floated in the air.
It was all foggy, distorted, as though her mind was still waxed over by the haze, but the voice kept speaking to her, if Feint would only bear to listen. "He bears a terrible power. This encounter with your loved one is staged, and a cruel drama it is . . . it is as lethal as any other, but it is a fight within your mind only. I can only reveal the truth to you, I cannot force you to accept it.
"If your intentions are fair, and what I detect is true, then it is my belief that you continue to stand in the fire for others to continue honoring what you remember of his tendency to protect you. Even when they are certain that they are without harm, you stand in their way, and are empowered by your desire to protect . . . do I understand this? Because there is something that his history is forgetting . . ."
"Not all Murians chose war!" "Not all Murians chose war!" Burai coughed out, turning up to glare at Phantom Black. "Some of us just wanted to survive!"
Phantom Black sneered, once again thrusting the cane forward, as another siphon of shadows cut a gash through Burai's arm. "A will to survive at the expense of all others is still misguided. Couldn't save a single soul on your path to survival? The Crest of Mu has been turned into a Badge of Loneliness, and now you expect the Heralds to just welcome you back onto the Continent? As if I'd allow you to abuse Mother again!" He jabbed into Burai a few more times, turning to glance at Feint for a moment, his eyes shifting just to see how she was doing.
He seemed not to notice that she was slowly seeing through the illusion. Feint definitely was not out of the waters, yet; the ghost of the Remnant still stood before her, watching, waiting, and growing impatient.
"It . . . wasn't a choice I made. My options were to survive at any cost; the other Murians were too drunk with power! Search my mind, you will see, I attempted to stop Lady Vega from abusing Mu's power!"
"Ohohohohoh, trying to stop those that came after you from making the same mistakes as those that came before you? Must work so wonderfully with all the remarks of how you work alone, you do as you please, and everyone else is just a tool. The Murian Pride, through and through!"
Burai let out a loud screech, that sounded dangerously like a primal roar, as his body released some strange power, dark waves peeling off of him. "Gyah! The Murian People had a right to their pride! Even dispersed, we knew what we were capable of! We were almost hunted to a number before we found the continent; it was not our fault that those controlling the continent were blinded by their power!"
"Who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself? For all your dark, horrible memories, for how often you had to protect yourself from your own brethren, you sure are intent on finding a way to rebuild it! What, hoping The Murian Project Part Two won't end the same way? History tends to repeat itself, little solider, and I promise you the Murians are not immune to that!"
|
|
|
Post by Warrior on Aug 15, 2020 15:01:49 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/wgPVglS~png " ... "
Cherish closed her eyes at his response, wounded more by the words than by what came next. But the painful thought that he hated her, and that he assumed she hated him back, would only be the second-to-last thing that passed through her mind as the muscle fibers in her trigger finger began to actuate.
The voice stopped her though, when she was only a hairline from death. Her eyes sprung open again, looking to see where it had come from, but seeing nobody there. She wasn't able to question it much further before the scene before her began to be revealed.
Her emotions were put on hold for now as she listened to the voice and responded, either mentally or verbally, which ever the voice could hear.
" I... don't know. "
It was such a childish response, but her mind was in more of a haze than what her eyes were seeing right now. There was still a sadness in her tone, but her persona had taken more hits lately than she was used to.
The truth was: deep down, she was precisely what the voice had described. Walls of insecurity were built to conceal it, and seeing her brother before her had removed one of those walls to reveal the core of who she was. Knowing that this wasn't him though, that it was only a ploy -- that wall would be rebuilt.
It was a matter of whether this invisible entity could piece together these facts that determined whether it found her acceptable; she was indeed one that would endure another's harm, but she wasn't one to admit it or even allude to it when she did so. Rather, she'd veil her intents with her cold attitude: she would take a bullet for a person because she didn't want them to get hurt, but she would tell them (and herself) that it was because she considered them too weak to fend for themselves.
Her subconscious was altruistic, but it was armored in conscious arrogance. It was indeed her brother that inspired the altruism, and his death that instigated the armor by virtue of the events that followed suite. But even to the voice that could peer into her thoughts -- these very false thoughts portraying her reunion with her brother, orchestrated by Phantom Black -- she could not reveal her fragile core.
The allusions to her emotional immaturity were drawn clear: true self-acceptance was the piece she never placed.
" The truth is, my sense of protection exists, but as things currently stand, it is not my sole motivator. Not in this case. "
She turned to face the blurry figure in her vision that was Phantom Black. At this point, simply knowing that this was an illusion was quite enough: if the invisible entity deemed her unworthy of further assistance, then fighting with eyes closed and ears deafened was how she would proceed. Burai's struggle was still a difficult thing to accept, but a much more powerful feeling overwhelmed her in light of all that was going on.
She was pushed her over the edge.
" My brother's memory is not simply precious to me... "
She spoke in her full volume now, addressing both the voice and the orchestrator of her agony now.
~*BANG!*~
The sound of her gunfire at the apparition of her brother would further demand Phantom Black's attention as her countenance wrote itself over one last time: rage that overwhelmed reason at his treason.
" It's sacred. "
And to intrude on it as he did, to spit on his legacy, was not simply impudent; it was forbidden.
To look upon her face now, one would see more than the anger. They would feel the anger.
It was a hatred beyond comprehension, the kind that choked the back of one's throat like a feral growl begging to break free. A righteous fury that demanded atonement, the sort that furrowed one's brow to intensify their spiteful gaze. A reproach that screamed disgust, the type that caused one's lip to curl up and reveal teeth clenched as vicious fangs. A disdain that caused one's blood to boil and their skin to seethe, like a glowing radiance of enmity bursting from their chest. Animosity that made one's nails feel like claws, their fists like bricks, their bones and muscles like steel.
It was far more frightening than an uncontrolled rage; this breed was silent and focused. It was like a beam concentrated on its source, enough to blot out all else until justice was served by the instrument of one's self. It would stand dreadfully calmly, each breath fueling the burning inferno within.
Her aura was far beyond what anger could even be described as. It was pure; it was evil. It was holy; it was foul. It was righteous.
" ... "
It was demonic.
|
|
|
Post by Gaia on Aug 16, 2020 20:20:57 GMT -8
The voice listened to her thoughts, jumbled and unsure, as well as paying close attention to the shift of emotions as the travesty of the scenario was revealed to her. Her response to the question was childish, but, at the same time, defensive in its own right; for all the ways she would choose to defend another, she also had to have her own ways to defend herself.
Even if she was just defending herself from her own truth, from her own acceptance, and from her own fears, she, too, deserved a defender. If no one else was to do it, she had to. Without her sacred brother, it was her duty alone.
Suddenly changing the direction of her gun again caught the Remnant's attention, as her gunshot resounded throughout the temple - what she expected to simply pass right through him, the Remnant instead staggered, completely caught off guard, as a gaping hole appearing in his chest. He glared down at it, in awe, and then turned to glare back up at her. " Is that how it is, then? So disgusted by my memory, by the taint on your brother, that you would remove even me? Fine! " The Remnant reached behind his back and pulled his sword from its sheath, glaring at her as its power within him grew. " I will not stand here and be judged for a decision that was not mine to make. This isn't what I wanted . . . but I will if I must! "
The Remnant charges forward, clearing the distance between them, as the temple seems to fall back into its full view: The land that he had been standing on collapsed into nothingness as he stepped onto the temple proper, and Feint realizes that she had been staring out to her doom the whole time.
Even as he seemed slightly foggy, she would find that his swordstrikes were no less dangerous.
"I see and hear your plight. Your rage is not misplaced; it is a terrible thing he did. But the light that burns within you is less bright. I will only offer my power to a true benefactor - she who would give anything for those around her."
The presence left her, but the tint to her vision was not taken with its absence. She could still see the Phantom and his games that he played with the both of them.
As for the Phantom Black, he turned as the gunshot fired, and, at first, did not register that she had seen through the illusion. The sudden surge of power from her, though, was something he had not anticipated. His smile returned, as though all of this was some great show put on just for him, and all of their suffering was a grand performance that he was to enjoy, as he saw the rage painted across her face.
Like a puppeteer controlling the show, Phantom Black whirled around in his cape, disappearing, while the Remnant continued to charge at her, swinging his blade time and time again. At times, he would step back to instead release the signature sonic booms from its edge.
Phantom Black reappeared in the air, floating just above the duo, one fought by the phantom of her brother, and one being hounded by a dark, horrible history that Feint could not fathom. Burai was still on the ground, clutching at his hair, covering his ears, his eyes closed tight, while that dark energy fluttering around his form intensified further. He laughed from his place on high, the Phantom Black jabbing a few strikes of shadow at Burai while Feint was still occupied.
The power of Hestian Host, brief though it was, allowed Feint to see things in her environment that weren't visible before - parts of the temple faded away to reveal passageways and stairs that veered off from the main path, as though the simple path to the back was all a ploy in the Phantom's show. While they still ultimately ended in a dead end, the straight and narrow path to the back was much wider, with a lot more rubble and sudden holes along the way, than it first appeared.
Had they charged straight for the spear, they may have very well fallen to their doom.
However, the Phantom Black was still able to control how the mind saw things, as the shadows moved up and around her, the very ceiling seeming to collapse as rocks fell from above onto both her and Burai. As the Phantom Black continued to funnel its black energy, Burai appeared to grow more frustrated, as whatever pained him was still impossible for him to get over; and as more time passed, even Feint would notice that her vision was failing her again, as the environment slowly but surely began glossing back over, hidden details returning to such, and see-through details becoming solid again.
|
|
|
Post by Warrior on Aug 16, 2020 23:46:29 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/cqKbnSa~png " ... "
The presence of Hestian Host didn't seem satisfied with Cherish's response, but she was never known to be a people pleaser. It was a soothing feeling that it brought, however brief it was, that contrasted sharply with her own burning fury while it lasted. While that anger wasn't quelled by it, her clear mind was able to keep itself from boiling over by the time she was left again to just her own devices.
The Host's words incentivized her to protect Burai, but as Phantom Black struck at him from above, Cherish did not intervene. Beyond being occupied with her own apparition, jumping to his aid would have been a dishonest action; a deliberate attempt to please the Host if it was even still watching. To do something only in response to being told to do it was obedience, not genuineness.
This wasn't about satisfying a spectating spirit. It was better that it found her honest self unworthy than her dishonest self sufficient; but that led her to question what her own honest self really was, as even to her own self, she didn't delve into it too deeply before finding something to distract her from the thought. Conveniently for her, too, there was something right in front of her that served a distraction once again.
" You aren't him. "
Uttering his name wasn't worthy of this ghost's ears, even referencing it as "her brother" was far more than it deserved. Its first strike met her forearm; the suit noticeably absorbing the impact from the very physical contact, which Cherish took into critical consideration in regards to this entity's nature.
" I'm disgusted by your attempt to be. "
The False Remnant's striking pattern was eerily similar to how she remembered it would be though; likely meaning that it was feeding off of her own memories to construct what she was seeing. As for the physical impacts of an illusion: if it wasn't simply her mind telling her body that what it saw was real, then the only other solution was that there was indeed a physical attack made against her, but her eyes simply guised it into what the illusion wanted her to see. It may not have been Remnant's sword persay, but it was certainly something. Feeling was just as much a sense as Seeing though -- if Phantom Black could manipulate one, there was nothing to say that he couldn't manipulate the other.
She deflected the remaining swings and sonicbooms with her forearms as well; her paradigm was to empower herself by enemy strikes and she saw no reason to depart from it now.
" ... "
She noticed the environment changing again -- her mind giving into the deception once more. Debris fell from the ceiling; she didn't know whether to believe if it was true or not. But as one rock fell toward Burai, who was still far more occupied than she was now, she realized that it didn't matter whether her eyes deceived her or not, and in honest conviction, stood over top of him to barricade him from whatever was or wasn't raining down from above.
His Isolation Zone would have normally prevented her interference, but he seemed to be fully invested in his own mental struggle that he probably wasn't even aware of her being here anymore, as far as she knew. She didn't bother trying to communicate with him; he probably wouldn't hear her, just as she didn't truly hear him during her own trial.
As the shadows moved up to blind her with deceit again, her intentions were made more clear by her firm stance. She'd see, hear, and sense any number of things under the hex, but knowing Burai was directly beneath her would mean that, as long as she didn't move from this spot, she could fight back without hitting him and still buy him time to combat whatever internal struggle of his own that he was having. The pitfalls of the environment didn't matter, and the brutality of any attack made against either of them played to her own strength.
She looked up to Phantom Black now, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before her vision would fail to the illusion again. The fire in her eyes was still there, but now the anger shared its seat with determination in the face of tribulation. Remnant's apparition wasn't void from her mind, but she'd have more time to deal with that after the real enemy was done showing his face.
" Normally, I'd call you a coward for your methods as a means to provoke you into attacking me directly. But to be honest, I'd be pretty damn afraid to fight me head on right now, too. I've already faced my darkest demon, and I'll find my way through whatever you send at me now. "
Her eyes sharpened as they strained to maintain vision of him; their resolve unwavering.
" So throw every illusion in your book, use every trick in your deck, play every card in your hand. Hide in your shadows, jester, and savor your last moments -- they're my gift to give. "
|
|
|
Post by Gaia on Aug 21, 2020 10:11:50 GMT -8
The Phantom Black disappeared into another whirlwind of shadows, a flick of his cloak, as the Remnant continued trading blows with her. The force of his attacks against her did not lessen; they in fact seemed to be rising rapidly in power, as if as time passed he was becoming more real.
Or, perhaps, he was just doing as the true Remnant would have - storehousing power within himself to use over time. His blows became more fierce, carrying more strength behind them, and they grew more numerous, as more sonic booms was released from his rapid sword strikes.
The depth of Burai's isolation zone had previously prevented Feint from so much as getting close to him; now, he was lost to it, and she stood over him to take the rocks falling for him. The force of the building collapsing on top of her was definitely real, too, a crushing weight from the rocks, only mitigated by the force of her suit. However, as her body accepted and interacted physically with the illusions, she seemed to naturally adapt, as though standing the brunt of their force made it clearer that they were fake. The Remnant became less solid, and was easier to see, while the environment once again broke down to reveal what was beneath it.
But her body was still suffering from the pain, the mental strain seemingly impossible to overcome. Her natural regeneration was of no help to her against it, as though her body refused to recognize that it was actually hurt to start restoring itself.
It seemed running away from the illusion is what made it stronger - facing it head-on was what let her overcome it. Having that strength was the difficult part, of course, and as Burai continued to clutch at his hair and screech in agony behind her, she would be forced to wonder what he was doing to handle his own trial.
Were it not for Hestian Host giving her this chance and letting her see through the veil, her inactivity and need to run away would have killed her.
The Phantom Black slid back into view as the Remnant's attack flurry ended yet again, this time thrusting forward with his cane as a siphon of wind and shadow kicked up towards the pair of them, their natural defenses meaning nothing as it tore through them. It wasn't very powerful all on its own, but it was definitely something to contend with when considering her body didn't seem to want to recognize it for existing.
With his attack finished, the Phantom Black released a blood curdling cackle as he vanished back within his cape. "Your darkest demons already faced, is that it? I think you mistake yourself! I think we can both go deeper . . . Phantom Illusion!
The world faded away, as her eyes were overtaken by shadow, and even the ghost of her brother was torn away as she was left only with a certain memory involving a captive, a young girl, Merrill, and Warrior . . .
|
|