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 The Seal of Eden - Part 1

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Wed Jan 18, 2012 8:23 am

The ground began to rumble, crumble and deaftly shake. The void-like emptyness which She had created had already began expanding, like some kind of voracious omnivore, devouring everything in It's path. They were in It's path. Move. Run. NOW! He was running before She had spoke, simply figuring She hadn't noticed. Bah! Of course She had. She just had a plan He wasn't currently part of. He was weak. For all his apparant confidence, He was weak. Weaker than her. She knew this, She must. For Kiera would never have someone accompanying her who had a chance of besting her. No. She had an edge. She must have, it was how she was. She must have Somthing. Else, why would She take him?

For all his folly, he was simply a piece of a puzzle, known as life. Wrapped in guilt. Engulfed by hate. Bathing in slight paranoia.

As he ran, jumping over debris, landing on the tarmac of what was once Conte Avenue, he heard a loud crashing sound from behind him, what he quickly, and rather hastily assumed to be the pit widening. But this felt different. Larger. Destructive. And, a distubingly large portion of him hoped it would be deadly.

Then, a load, and frightful noise erupted, with a large fireball erupting, lighting up the sky. It didn't have a source, he noted. It couldn't have, it wasn't possible. It looked like it had come from ground level, close to what must've been, what now must be a gargantuan crevis. It must be of demonic origin. More were coming. It would act like a flare. He wasn't waiting around to see what found the hole. He turned, and ran. Away from the main city centre, which was swarming, and towards the less populated suburbs. It was known to be reletivl easy for people to survive there. In fact, he knew a fair number did.
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sat Mar 17, 2012 8:41 am

Name: Ameth ‘Rede’ Valiente
Gender: Male
Elemental Affinity: Fire
Age: 16
Religion: While he is presumed by many to be Pagan, he has never really thought about it
Background: Outcast by nature, Ameth, or Rede, as He prefers, grew up on his own. A single child, at home he faced, as he would put it, ‘Physical abuse from his attempted drunk of a Father’ and ‘Compulsive negligence from his Mother’. In school he fared not much better. Facing constant bullying, he retreated more and more from civic and social life.
His only reprieve came when he ventured into the nearby forest. There, he found a grove, in which he would rest for day’s apon days, each time, simply waiting for the four pivotal points in the cycle: Dawn, Midday, Dusk and Midnight. For it was then, when he rested in that grove of trees older that time, against the great Elder Tree, and the Sprites of the place would speak. And he would speak back.
Keeping a record of everything about the place in his journal, he endeavoured to learn as much as he could about his haven; every root, tree, branch and flower where there, simply for him. No one else appreciated or enjoyed them- they must be for him and him alone. In return, he was their protector, their guardian. Every day. Every night.
T’was around about this time he completely severed the bond between his parents, and indeed the vast majority of humanity. It was late evening. Winter Solstice. He had just been beaten again. His Fathers favoured past time. He had tried, for the hundredth time, to appeal to his mother for help, but, for the hundredth time, she had slapped him, shouted, and forced him from her sight. Running out of the home he had never known, into the undergrowth, darkness descended. He ran to his grove, and lay there. As midnight began to reign, the Voices spoke. Though these were deeper, monstrous, he paid no heed. His body was covered in bruises, and he demanded only vengeance. They promised it. With one condition.
And he had abided. With an old kitchen knife, he had spilt his own blood apon the elder’s bark. He felt a terrible sensation rush through him. The spites shrieked. Something was wrong. Hearing a low growl behind him, he turned to see a great demon behind him. Indescribably dark, like a shade, a shadowy, gaseous thing. He heard a fowl noise; a noise filled with agony and pain- undoubtedly his Fathers. His Mothers followed soon after.
Grinning at his triumph, his overwhelming sense of joy stopped suddenly. These were not the sprites. The sprites filled him with joy, happiness, and a feeling of peace. This Thing only filled him with fear, and a feeling of doom. It was no sprite, these were the opposites. He had spoken. A single word, one he no longer remembered. Whenever he thought back to that day, he could only remember what happened next. The Shadow had grinned, and solidified into a naked, female shadow. Her features were hidden, he only saw her shape. The figure had approached, and he felt her evil. He now came to the realisation of the actuality of the situation. He had been tricked. Taken advantage of. This was no helpful spirit, but pure evil. Evil, like his mother. Like his Father. Evil, that must be stopped. He had ran, anger swelling. Anger that had swelled for 16 years unleashed itself with fury and brimstone and pain. And, most importantly, fire. A great, terrible fire, exploded from deep within his being, emanating from his very core. All burn. All black. Unconsciousness fell.
When he eventually woke, the world was grey. Everything was gone, save the snow. He was lying down. As he opened his pained eyes, he noticed something. The sky was a dark grey, but there were no clouds. This was not snow. This was ash. Apon this realisation, he had sat up. Everything burnt. Everything charred. Black. Dead. The forest was gone. He had failed. Unworthy, he vowed never to return to this now dead land. He stood, and looked to the distance. To the looming skyscrapers. Burning. The city was burning. Dying, if not already dead. He could hear the screams, see the fire, and grimaced unexpectantly. Ameth was gone. Rede was born. All burn indeed.
Appearance:
-Hair: Black, unkept, his hair looks as if ripped from a mop. It seems to have no plan, except that it his fringe is combed over one side of his face, to cover a single eye. His left.
-Eye colour: Though naturally a deep, sea blue, he wears red contact lenses.
-Skin colour: Pale, icy cold, his inner fire does nothing to warm his shell of a body.
-Clothing: Around his neck, a pair of black steampunk goggles with dark red lenses, the rest of his upper body attire includes white, roughened shirt, the top button undone, it is untucked, hanging over black, formal trousers, that look like they came from a suit. With black loafers protecting his feet, the only item of clothing left unmentioned is the most visible and prominent. His black, woollen coat, with large black buttons, pockets on the outside, and several on the inside, which itself is made of soft velvet, unlike the rough woollen exterior.
Mental Profile: As a result of his upbringing, he was quiet and reserved; preferring to keep to himself, rather then interact with others. After ‘The Event’, his timidity turned to confidence. His shyness turned to rage. His intellect turned to cunning. Sly and analytical, his mind is keen, his tactical sense more so. One mistake everyone makes, yet he doesn’t, is to trust. He is the opitimy of dishonesty, always on the lookout for number one. No matter what. If fleeing benefits him, he will do it. If betrayal benefits him, he will do it. If murder… well, you get the idea. With no moral limits, the power of fire, and a silver tongue, while a difficult ally to keep on your side, it is definitely preferable to having this powerful teen as an enemy.
Equipment:
1. His Fathers revolver, with appropriate ammunition
2. The kitchen knife with which he started this
3. His Journal, which chronicles all of the major events throughout his life, from birth (Complete with photos and a strand of hair) to plans for each day. After the coming, which he simply refers to as ‘Day 0’ he does not use dates, but numbers the days since. Even before it happened, it can be viewed that the dates have been scribbled out, replaced with negative numbers (For example, the last day of ‘normality’ before the demons descended, is referred to as ‘Day -1’)
4. An old, black, unbranded schoolbag
5. His lighter, in the shape of a flaming skull
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sun Apr 29, 2012 6:36 am

The rumbling underneath their feet was soon accompanied by distant growls, screams, claws-against-chalkboard like audibles and a multitude of shattered glass tinkling and smashing against the ground's cracked concrete with ear-piercing frequencies. The skies seem to light with a tangeable albeit dim essence of red and purple, illuminating the night with a blinding flash from above. It seems Keira's plan had a flaw, or more precisely, something that had been un-accounted for. It seems her ground-breaking technique had unveiled something dangerous. Something intruigingly fascinating. An idea that lingered and wandered through her mind as she made a dash for it, easily keeping pace with the male she found as equally interesting. Or atleast, in a sense of him becoming her new playtoy. This idea opened up a wide variety of concepts of legislations that related back to the initial starting point of this whole chaotic output. Only now had she realised something fairly important to her survival, and in a futuristically potential way, this boy's survival as well. For now, however, the new idea was to be kept a secret.

Keira's mind flashed back into reality; realising her natural instincts had caused her to follow the boy, in equal pacing. Equality? With Him? I don't think so... Almost immediately her pace had quickened, and she took lead, dashing swiftly infront and prompting her way down the long-roaded avenue. The grounds they were previously standing up had shattered by now, leaving a deep dark chasm in it's wake. It certainly did make her skills seem decently exceptional, as if she'd planned for that to happen in the first place, so she wasn't complaining. Not one single bit. Indeed, part of her plan included creating some form of chasm, but nothing as ground-breaking as that.

Keira looked over her right shoulder as she continued running, realising that the gaping chasm was gaining in radius, and swiftly approaching from behind. Cars and lamp posts were being sucked into the giant pit of darkness and growling, heightening the extent of the various loud noises being thrown about like some sort of out-of-control heavy metal concert (Wait, isn't that all of them?). The sense of increased danger caused her smirk to widen into a masochistic-like grin; making it seem like the grin was inteded for the male running behind her. Perhaps it was a joint-intention.
"Careful back there!" Her voice raised so that it could be heard over the diabolical amount of audibles bickering in the background; followed by a chuckle as if to confirm her amplified mockery.
"I mean, there's a young boy here too y'know! Spare the children and all that shit..." Her second line confirmed that she was actually calling out to the horde of demons gathering in the chasm. Again, she couldn't help but hold back a chuckle; taking a sharp right towards the suburban area not so far from their current location.

Again, a blinding flash ripped and roared through the sky; surprisingly ending their pursuers chase. The chasm, which had now engulfed a quarter of the city center, had stopped growing in size. Keira stopped running, only minimally out of breath, taking the moment of opportunity to survey her surroundings. Empty shops were on either side, one of noteworthy interest, seemed to be an old repair-stop. It seemed her interest for the male, whether he was still following or not had withered temporarily as she tried to plan ahead. Still, her thoughts were to remain a secret for the time-being. Her current motivation and actions hinting towards the fact that she's all too familiar with what just happened. And running seemed to be the answer to the problem. A temporary answer to the problem.

Second time this week, but this time it was different...

She took out her journal, sided with her only pen, immediately starting to jot down notes in a code she'd taken the time to invent herself. That way; anything inside of the journal was nearly impossible to figure out if anybody else got their hands on it. After a minute or two of writing, she slipped it back into her back and assessed her plan of action.
"Evidently, the only route forward is... This way..." She looked towards the distance with her usual serious expression, a dark and gloomy park center waiting ahead. An old battered playground seemed to be the center-piece, with rusted iron-chained swings and a slide that had collapsed onto it's side. The noise from before suddenly died down, as if to add to the dramatic effect of staring at some old abandoned playground. Keira sighed to herself, starting to walk with an average pace towards the destination set ahead of her, singing an old nursery rhyme tune using her own lyrics:

I've no time to plead and pine,
I've no time to wheedle,
Kiss me quick, and then I'm gone,
Pop! Goes the weasel!




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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sun May 27, 2012 12:11 pm

Run, Wolf Warrior, to hide your hunger
The rain will wash away the pains of the day.
In your eyes there are cold fires burning,
Tongues of flame that can never be tamed.


These haunting words drifted through his haunted mind. The reminder of ealier days, that these lines brought with them chilled him. It had been no different than what the planet was now. People killing, and people dying. The only difference was that people died more often. That, and now he fought back. Drifting his abstract thoughts away from the insanities of childhood and underconfidence, he, for a moment, brought his mind into focus, to turn his head so he could glance behind him. The mist that had gathered behind them, had allied with the dark, in hiding what was out there, and his vision was down now to some 20 metres, in that direction, though throughout the landscape, he could make out blotches of light, like a disease amongst the dark in which he usually found such solace. They were street lights. Though the power had been gone a while ago, most major cities had underground generators, and places to store essentials like water and food. Though he could guess that this city was the same by the evidence, he had not ventured to find them, for everyone that knew about such things would be heading towards that place, and he doubted the supplies would last long once the less intelligent and noble survivors heard word. Death, it seems, had taught man something, for once, which was other than how not to die- cunning.

Ah, Ameth, we learnt that lessson, Hm? Oh, do not scorn, old friend, I'll be what I'll be. The mortal friend, that was never there for thee.

He smirked quietly to himself, and turned his head back. Noticing that Keira had long overtaken him, he simply rolled his eyes at such petty, pitiful, and distincly female behavoir- getting competitive with what the law considered minors. Though he acted completely the opposite, it was still a useful skill to have- youth. Stopping his brain, he realised that it was yet again giving into the habit of thinking on a million tangents, and not one of them were relevent. Awakening his senses, he saw that Keira had stopped, and stood writing, and stopped also. He thought about writingin his own journal, for that was what she must've been doing. He remembered it from their first meeting. Nodding to himself, he reached an arm backwards, to thrift though his backpack, and it pulled out a dark red, leather bound book. A symbol had been embued in the cover, but that had long been disposed off. Though used, and obviously adjusted to his liking, the book somehow looked respectable. It was obvious he was keen to look after it well. He rested his pack on the floor, and used that as improvised seating, and wrote the following:

'Day 65
Don't say goodbye,
Don't surrender,
Don't say I didnt try,
Do not weep, for you need not,
Do not weep while your friends rot,
For the rain speaks to us,
And the storms send her message.
Water she commands,
And with me, she bands.
Half of us are known,
Are Air and Earth as one,
Or do they work alone?
Will we find the damnation we seek?
The punishment for our crimes.
For I'd rather rule in hell,
Than in the heaven of the meek of mind.
Either way, for the second time this week,
Her death bells chimed.
What is she doing, doesnt she wish us dead?
Or would she keep me as a pet,
And chop off Waters bitchy, arrogant head?'

He always made his updates in the journal in such a way, not to protectfrom imbeciles afraid of the English language, but for the fun of it. For though he was dark and hateful, at his core there was still the boy that had bargined with the devil, there was still a droplet of that same naivete, that things would improve, despite his apparant loathing of all. That was why he hated the niave boy- it needed concessions to be made once in a while so he would not surface, like these rhymes, or those rusted swings in that rusted park.

He had already seen Keira start of that was, and was already moving a foot to automaticly follow. Not because he was subserviant in anyway, it was simply out of common sense. Safety in numbers. He hoped, one day, when their alliance was not needed, when all this had been dealt with, he may kill her, or sufficently injure her that retribution and retaliation against him would be impossible. But for now, such joyous thoughts could wait. The boy wanted to go on the swings. Walking slowly towards the park, he jumped over the low fence that would've been used to stop small children from wondering, and looked breifly about, noting the surface. Tarmac, which was in such a state of dis repair that weeds had grown through it, almost as if nature was fighting back against man. How ironic. For man was a disease, and they were the anti biotic. And so, the boy, Ameth, sat on the swings, while the man, Rede, chuckled at the horrified look of a todler perched up in one of the fence corners.The top half had been ripped from the bottom, but not here- there was no blood. It seemed that either the demons carried it, which was unlikely, or someone who knew the boy did this, in which case they could still be around, but he guessed not, for they would want to keep the child close. Sentimental fools.
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Tue Sep 04, 2012 5:55 am

Kiera soon entered the park, keeping to the western side near the slide, where a flickering streetlight offered some form of essential visible essence. Her eyes were focused upon the supposedly dead child, almost terrified. As if she once knew the child, perhaps. Alas, she remained still, scanning her eyes around the area to analyse her new surroundings; trying to take her mind off the spooky setting. Contemplating philosophy, no less. To achieve success in philosophy would be, to use a contemporary turn of phrase, to 'know one's way around' with respect to all these things, not in that unreflective way in which the centipede of the story knew its way around before it faced the question, 'how do I walk?', but in that reflective way which means that no intellectual holds are barred. Philosophy would have certainly been a rather big debate were the media still around. That is in regards to the crisis, of course; which had been unofficially dubbed by the very little amount of survivors as 'The Dark Age'. If only the unintelligent morons had actually paid attention in their once-was history classes. But still, Kiera continued to think about the survival aspects and more philosophy. Philosophy was good. It took her mind off things, if even for a moment. She may or may not have been heard, depending on the distance between the pair and the fact that she was mumbling ever-so-quietly to herself. She soon stopped and thought in silence.

Now the subject-matter of this knowledge of truths which is presupposed by philosophical 'know-how', falls, in a sense, completely within the scope of the special disciplines. Philosophy in an important sense has no special subject-matter which stands to it as other subject matters stand to other special disciplines. If philosophers did have such a special subject-matter, they could turn it over to a new group of specialists as they have turned other special subject-matters to non-philosophers over the past two thousand years, first with mathematics, more recently psychology and sociology, and, currently, certain aspects of theoretical linguistics..." If he was listening closely, he probably could've heard the clockwork insides of her mind turning and twisting. It was obvious that she was cooking up a plan or some such, and this process of initial thought-processing helped her counter every possibility; both good and bad. Of course, it was a rather strange 'habit', if you even wish to call it that, but if it helped saved her life somehow; then she knew that philosophy was her newfound ally. It was always a good idea to keep in touch with allies, especially in desperate times like these. Thus, she continued her intelligent ramble within her mind this time; walking back and forth a couple of paces whilst peering towards the male on the swings every-so-often. To keep an eye on him, like a parent would back in days of light...

Whether or not the world as we encounter it in perception and self-awareness is ultimately real, it is surely incorrect, for example, to say as some philosophers have said that the physical objects of the encountered world are 'complexes of sensations' or, equally, to say that apples are not really coloured, or that mental states are 'behavioural dispositions', or that one cannot intend to do something without knowing that one intends to do it, or that to say that something is good is to say that one likes it. For there is a correct and an incorrect way to describe this objective image which we have of the world in which we live, and it is possible to evaluate the correctness or incorrectness of such a description. What if you apply the same concept to these demons? What if they have purpose? Sentience?

Yes. That was enough. Kiera had finally decided on a course of action. A clever one. A smirk edged across her lips as she turned towards the male again. Parting her lips, she spoke in a neutral tone. "We need supplies, not entertainment. Get off the swing. I have an idea, tag along if you wish... If not, choose to do so at your own peril. There is strength in numbers, young one..." Though her tone was neutral, there was definitely a glimmer of friendliness in her eyes. She may have been strict, disciplined and sometimes rather arrogant, but she had the common-sense to recognise this boy's talents and what he may have been capable of. Looking back to the flickering streetlamp, she noticed something obscurring the half of the light. A dark figure hanging down from the top of the metal beam. It snickered, eyes glowing scarlet as the last flicker of luminance highlighted it's demonic features. By which time, Kiera had unsheathed her blade and readied herself. A philosophical debate wouldn't do her any good in a physical battle. A verbal battle would be another story, however~

The demon snickered again, fangs on show this time. A trickle of acidic-like drool trailed down past it's lips, dripping onto the ground below. It growled, staring at the pair with animalistic intentions. It's tongue lashed and licked the air, tasting their scents like a snake. It's body was contorted and twisted, mocked by Mother Nature. As black as Raven feathers and as twisted (but not as beautiful as) the intricate designs of a Florentine rapier's handguard. Kiera readied her stance, glaring back at it with evil eyes of her own. "There is no glory in battle worth the blood that it costs. Even for these demons. Someone, or something commands them. Perhaps even manipulates them. Just be sure that it's not your blood that's used as currency for their promotion. You'd best remember these words: In the battle of existence, talent is the punch and tact is the clever footwork..."

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Wed Sep 05, 2012 4:46 am

Run stray warrior, to fight your hunger
Though their thunder
Strikes the mountains tall
You must be quick
You must oumatch them all.

Say we say goodbye
Say we say you didn't try
Say we pull back the curtains
Cast the light on your curious eyes
To rip you from your precious darkness
Simply for our pleasure
Simply to prove we can
Would you dare to fight
That which you could win?
Simply to prove that you could?

One.
Two.
Three.
Here I come with the wicked.


He grinned. A lonely sign of complacency at Rede's activities, a sign that he was growing bored with this plaything. He presumed Rede meant Kiera, although the lifeless body before him had long lost it's appeal, it was also not worthy of his... unique creativity. Okay then, so his point was that this situation was growing stale, and boreing, with the wry implication that he wished for Ameth to lighten things up. He opted to ponder on that, instead of immediatly acting, as he may have perhaps once done. He had already established that he had a higher chance of survival with her, so he would avoid that. Besides, this wasn't a case of survival, and the sacrifice of sympathies, but one of excitment.

And then he realised something.

This wasn't the first time he had thought on this today.

By the Gods, this couldn't be... healthy, could it? Though he could hear Rede's curses, and verbal flatuence, he moved such things to the back of his mind, and looked beyond him. If he wanted to forever be this sociopath, hell bent on destruction of every asset, and every offer of help and solace, then he could do it when he got his own body, and stopped hijacking his, in some pathetic attempt for attention.

He could feel Rede's attempts to surface, and his anger, an anger completely foreign to Ameth's calculating mind, welled up inside him, but he directed it not at Kiera, but at the monster trapped in him. He screamed and, unsheathing his weapon, he stabbed and slashed wildly at the projected image of himself. This went on for what seemed to be years, but, of course, was but an instant. Planets unaligned themselves, and the anger fled, probably at the realisation of what it could have potentialy unleashed. Reality returned from it's tea break, and Ameth looked upon the face of the child, the actual receiver of the wounds.

Was he calmly breathing, or breathing calmly?

Turning, he caught the almost motherly gaze of Kiera, and replied, with one of what must've looked like a mix of shock and guilt. He had won this bout against Him, but then, what did he classify as a victory, when he would still be there tomorrow? At least there were no fresh scars adorning his wrists, for one thing. He was getting better.

'Twas at that time he noticed what She had turned away to look at.

The twisted being that hung from the light was not looking at him, but it didn't stop him from sensing him. It's nose sniffed the air, as if it was relying on it more than it's sight. It was deducable, nay, apparant, that this wasn't a large predatorial being, but a smaller, pack like thing, that hunted in groups and was nocturnal in fuction. It had no need for such things as sight, though it was blessed with it (Albiet, impaired) for the rare occassion it was called upon to hunt in the day. It's mishapen and horrifyingly disgusting form served only to scar the minds of those who caught fleeting glances of it as they fled. For, how can you fight, when your heart is filled with terror? Badly, Ameth would wager.

Standing, Ameth took a couple of steps backward, keeping his right hand inside his coat, and on the handle of his revolver, while keeping his gase on the form of Kiera, indicating a discreet mental shift. He was tired, mentally drained, even. His mind was crying out for reason, not battle, and he would hope that the person he was looking to for guidance, currently, would realise that.

"And you'd best remember this. If you wish battle now, I will weep, for you will face your end alone. The dawn does not care for who it rises, but it rises only for the living. In the great scheme of things, all the dead do is weigh down the living. I would hope that you would have some sense in this matter, and not wish to attract more of them to our location with a pitched battle,"
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sat Dec 22, 2012 2:03 am

What was with the metaphorical bullcrap? This... kid... was issuing her some old, boring words of wisdom in the face of certain danger. If he was to keep on blathering like that, he'd be the one to face his end alone, nevermind her. Besides, Kiera had plenty of fight left in her. Despite this however, she also had a working sense of intelligence; and another fight seemed like a poor choice. She just didn't like the kid telling her what was already on her mind. Perhaps it was just because she didn't like people playing this... survival game... better than her. Why was he following her, anyway? Sure, it was safer, but... they hadn't exactly me-

Her idiotic daydreaming was promptly interrupted by the slashing of the vile monster that had been placed before her. It's three right-hand claws tore across the side of her neck, though she had the common-sense (and ability) to jump back before it get gash in too deep. Her right hand immediately came to rest upon the seeping blood upon her neck, now panting. Great, now the kid truly had bettered her. But this was his fault in her eyes, having made her ponder the many choices they had to consider. Yeah, that was right... his fault. If anything, Kiera was too proud to admit her own mistake. Hell, if it came down to it, she'd tell him that she wanted a new scar to show off. “T-time to get going, kid. You still tagging along, or not?” The female had to question it, because in a sense, she still felt obliged to protect him. Something... horrible, made her feel guilty about leaving a kid alone. Ugh... guilt... why guilt? She was definitely NOT the type to be guilty of such a thing, but something lingered in the air. Maybe he could feel it too, considering he had powers just like she did. Maybe it was some magic mumbo-jumbo...

She exhaled heavily and made a dash for it. The contorted being made swift chase, but she had the right mind to wound it's leg with her blade. It eventually slowed down to the point of exhaustion, collapsing onto one of it's sides. Her scarlet life-source seeped from her wound, dripping down her neck and staining the dark fabric of her clothes. The first priority? Get it treated. Thankfully, she had some medical supplies in her bag, saved for such an occasion. All she needed to do was find somewhere safe to camp for the night. Usually, it wasn't hard. The demon-like beings never really wandered into abandon buildings unless they knew somebody was there. If any of the survivors of the world had to thank the God that had abandoned them for one thing, it was the fact that these... demons... didn't have a decent sense of intelligence.

It didn't take her long to retreat, heading through the park to the other end. A small, lonely shack was positioned on the outer regions of the grassy park. It was temporarily adaptable for her needs and desires. It was made from sturdy bricks, and the windows had already been boarded up with thick metal sheets. In an exhausted state, Kiera headed inside and closed the door behind her; being sure to let Ameth in if he still wished to follow her. “Before you say anything... I'm just going to admit I was an idiot back there, alright? Just... don't mention it. I'm admitting it, it won't happen again, I assure you.” She spoke as if the kid was going to be with her for a very long time. “At least I got the fucker. I wonder if those things can die of infections...” She chuckled to herself, her hand still grasping at her wound. It looked pretty bad... if not fatal. Kiera knew all too well that the only way to kill those things was to use magic. Thankfully though, they could still be hurt by blades and what-not. It was only temporary, but it worked to fend the bastards off.

Shuffling through her bag, she tossed her journal to one side; amongst her scratched-up lighter, a wrapped up item of unknown origin, her notepad and her hunting knife. Eventually, she found her well-supplied medical kit. It was filled with bandages, medicines and a variety of surgical supplies like suture and stitch-needles. “You squeamish, kid? I might need a little help...”

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Wed Apr 10, 2013 1:53 am

He slammed the door hard, by leaning back against it. He, like the beast, was beginning to show signs of exhaustion now, and fell to a sitting position, against the door. Remembering that they weren’t safe yet, he went for a discarded piece of wood, and knelt it against the door, fixing it to the floor with a large rock. It would give them only seconds in the event of an attack, but it was better than nothing.

He did not smile at her joke. He did not know if they could die of infection, but he knew she could and so he was beside her before she had event asked for her help. He examined the medical equipment; a couple of bandages, some thin thread of sorts, a couple of sewing needles, a fucking handsaw, Christ and there were plenty of other tools he did not recognize. Following the mental step-by-step guide on how he was going to do this, he went for the needle, and threaded the wire through the eye. He wasn’t sure if this was proper medical equipment – he was sure medical thread was not made of cotton, or dark blue – but it would have to do. He brushed her still damp hair away from the gash. Luckily for them both, that thing had only caught her with one of its claws, and it obviously hadn’t gone through an artery or a windpipe, or she’d be dead by now. It did, however, get deep enough for there to be a profuse amount of bleeding. He did not see any thing to clean it with. That, and sewing would take too long. If they attacked, she would be out of action, or at least, not as effective. And then there was the time needed for the wound to heal and… …and…

“You’re not going to like this,” He frowned, pressing his hand near the wound – he dare not press it against her neck, lest his hand be melted to her flesh – and set his hand ablaze. It took some time to get his hand to the heat required, as it was gradual. He did not want to risk further damage, and he did not have an extensive amount of control over his element, at least, not as much as he would like. It took a couple of minutes for her flesh to begin to react, and that was a couple of minutes that he would rather forget. Not only was he undoubtedly causing her great pain, but also his own aches and pains and such were becoming more acute. The flesh almost… well it didn’t quite drip, but when he stopped, the bleeding had, and her scar was forming. He let out a deep breathe, and fell onto his side next to her, shaking his formerly burning hand. Damn, that had hurt. He avoided her gaze. She would think that there was another way, and that her way was far more superior. He didn’t need the anger she would find in her eyes, didn’t need the guilt, not now. He turned his eyes from her, to look at something else, anything else.

There was, however, not much to see in the shack. The entire building was only about seven meters wide, four long. It was run down; with old, dusty stone slabs making up the floor, and a small bed in the corner. The stood a table and three chairs at the other end, with three chairs, two of which were broken. The two windows that did serve to let some light in, in the hopes of disguising the ugliness of the building, were uneven, and had several panes of glass smashed, though the glass that would have littered the floor had been swept away. He imagined that a grizzled groundskeeper once lived here, before everything had went to hell. The state of the place, and the blood, that which was not Kiera’s, attested to that.

He sat on the intact chair and brought a hand over the table, wiping away some of the dust. He placed his bag over it, and examined its contents privately. Everything was there, still. Good. He brought his revolver out from inside his coat, and unsheathed the barrel, proceeding to take out the bullets, and blow into the sockets, before returning them, before moving his seat over to the window. Still, he avoided her gaze, even if these thoughts of guilt were self-sustained.

“You can have the bed, I’ll keep watch,”
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Thu May 16, 2013 1:05 am

Kiera hadn’t been paying much attention to the male at all. Of course, he’d offered her a helping hand, but she’d already apologised for being an idiot. She wasn’t about to admit anything else, obviously too stubborn for her own good. The blood from her wound, which had now seeped into the cracks of the wooden flooring below, had stained the small hut with her scent. If they stayed there for too long, more blood would have been spilled; and not the black, sticky kind. Her mind was focused, despite the situation - as calm as a river in spring. And oh, how she missed what they used to call spring. In fact, she missed all of the seasons. The crispy gold sunset of autumn, the sweet green grass of summer and the white planes of winter; she missed them all. Her mind flashed back to her memories, both good and bad, until finally… the fire-user had finished patching up her wound.

Her skin, as cold as her heart, had been cauterised; yet her own power had counteracted the evident pain it would have caused somebody without her abilities. A self-defence mechanism of her body negated any burn-related damage, rendering the treatment painless. If one were to imagine, it was like her sweat has soothed over the burnt skin and cooled it, creating a quiet hiss, and a short burst of evaporation. The renegade water-user smiled at him genuinely this time, and nodded her head as a thankful gesture. “Thanks, kid.” She soon took a stand, scanning her eyes around the old hut for anything useful. For a moment, the young male didn’t exist; her mind still focused on far too many things an ordinary mind could handle. However, her imagination was calm and collected; yet sophisticated in design, an eloquent addition to her vast knowledge of military experience, which she frequently put to good use. Kiera was indeed a renegade of the new demon-infested world, but still a paragon in the face of all evil that stood before her.

There were old pots of viscous liquid lined on crooked shelves, hooded lanterns hooked on all four walls that had long burned out of oil, and more importantly… battered birdcages tossed about the room. There was a stench of old oil and rusty metal in the air, and upon listening closely – the sound of cogs turning and gears grinding coming from below. Kiera continued to look around, flicking out her lighter to softly illuminate her surroundings. Something appealed to her in the darkest corner, safely hidden from their eyes until that very moment of recognition.

“Hold on a moment, this is…” she realised, her eyes turning to glance at the male with a passion of intrigue burning within them. Maybe if he was talented enough with his abilities, he might have been able to see a slight flicker of a flame burn inside of her. Her feet quickly marched her towards the edge of the room, and her hands took a grip of an old, rusty cabinet that had been used to block the far window, or at least what was left of it. She quietly lifted it out of the way, and lowered it down to rest against the nearby wall. “This is an old miner’s storeroom, right? ” She pointed down towards a heavy-looking hatch that the old cabinet had been covering. The female knelt down and clutched the rusty handle, giving it a hard tug. It remained closed, sealed tightly by rust; evidently too much for human strength to handle.

“Damn it, I bet there’s a whole load of stuff we can use down there. Miner’s huts were often built with hatches for storing explosives, mining equipment, and even food just in-case one of the tunnels collapsed. The deeper ones were often linked to passages that spanned widely over the city.” she thought out loud, giving the boy some valuable input from her point of view. “I’m betting this is one of them. Do you think you can burn away the rust without setting this place on fire?” she requested, hoping that he still had some energy left to be of favour to them both. “If we can get in, we can lock it from the inside and rest up for the night. If we’re lucky, we can grab some things and see if we can find some tunnels. At the moment, it might be our only chance of getting out of this hellhole. Then again, this might actually be a hellhole itself…” she contemplated, trying to think over her strategy. It was indeed a sound one, and potentially safe considering it was evident nobody had used it since the beginning of the apocalypse. In fact, such a thing at such a time was like hitting the jackpot; even if it didn’t have any supplies in. A safe place to sleep was more than enough for the time being.

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sun May 26, 2013 2:15 pm

The flame had been shining like a blazing beacon since Surgeon Rede had finished with her. To him, she was practically alight, and when she looked at him the fire seemed to burn out her eyes like a golden purity cleansing the taint of her. He had found it rather distracting, and he had been actively trying to ignore it, but it was hard, truth be told. It always seemed to be there, in the corner of his vision, or at the back of his mind, gnawing, biting, laughing. Just like her. You cannot control me, can you? was what they taunted. Is that all you think we are, weapons to be wielded?. Yes was his answer. For that was what they both were - himself, too - loose cannons that she pointed in the direction that she wanted corpses found next. That wicked witch Fate, Time, Abaddon, or whatever other name she preferred these days. Not that he cared which he used, he simply preferred it to the name that she had given him. Oh, she had been plentiful with her gifts that lonely day. If only you could have been there, he said to the flame. All that fire...

His actions since he had cauterised her were automatic, as they always were when it came to trivial formalities that he did not wish to waste his time on. He gathered that she felt the same way, as her faked attempt at genuine kindness left the bittersweet taste of patronization in his mouth. As did her mind numbing explanation of the situation beforehand. He had taken to humming a soft tune, in an arrogant attempt to outdo her little lesson. When it was done though, he stepped forwards anyway – what choice did he have, and was he really going to deny this anyway? He was proud as the flame inside her, as he ought to be, but no fool. He gave credit where it was due – she had spotted it before him. But only because she had been so stupid as to get hurt. His body – perhaps it was Ameth? – disagreed, with the cramp-based sting in his foot reminded him of old wounds, though they had been nothing more than scrapes.

So, standing over the hatch, he examined the hinge, which seemed to be fitted to allow the door to swing both ways – obviously there would be a handle on the other side. What was proposing was to burn out the rust, which would grant them access, yes, but would risk irreparably damaging the mostly wooden door. If that were to happen, this place would become useless as a hole-up. It was a dead end anyway, and they would be moving on, but he fancied living. More-so than he fancied he pride intact. If he could break the door in, without using his fire… Of course, there was a secondary objective here, for him. He did not want to admit it, but he… did not want to use it. It was beginning to hurt more again. He had not eaten since the night before – the toast to the dead friend – and he did not want to put himself under further duress. He knew how this symbiosis before him worked. As soon as he showed weakness, she would be gone, like a shadow in the night. He couldn’t complain – ideally, he’d do the same to her. Only, you haven’t, the dire fire whispered.

He knelt beside the door, placed his hand upon it, and tried pushing down upon it this time, and heard it creak. He sighed at her, and flashed a simple look her way, which roared ‘you idiot’ and whispered ‘you’re right’, before stomping down on it. The door groaned open with a growing sense of its own importance, and hung heavily in the dark, and he almost fell in after it, such was the force of his slam. There was a ladder, which also descended into the pit. A chaos all of its own lay down here, separate from the surface, he wagered. He was the first of them to reach the bottom, keen to find out, though sluggish were his movements.

When he reached the bottom, the first thing he had noticed was how narrow everything was. Pressing his hands against the wall, he was content to fumble about in the darkness, to find the light source, if there was one. Soon enough, he found his head clashing with something that hung, and, following the wire that stemmed from it, which ran from the ceiling, and back towards the latter, where the only source of light had been from, he discovered a switch. Its activation sent a buzz flowing through the circuits, and lit the place up like a mono-coloured Christmas tree.

He was right this time; it had been a corridor, but a short one, that soon opened up into a fairly small room. He pursed his lips in appreciation at the site before him. Shelves lined every wall, and on one wall, there were rows upon rows of canned food – perfect. On another three there were mining supplies, mainly pickaxes and mining helmets, but also a small box of explosives. It was quite impressive. He threw his bag into one of the corners, and went to it, to prop it up. He then sat against it, not looking at the doorway, as he assumed she would be adamantly following. Instead, he stretched his arms upwards, and wrapped his coat around him, before finally sharing the lyrics to the song he had been humming all day.

“Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as they go...

Eyes, blue as the sea and the sky
Water flows, water flows
Hearts, burning like fire in the night
Gently as they go...”
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Tue Oct 15, 2013 9:54 am

Journal Entry 462 463
So, the kid and I decided to work together for a while. He's a pain in the ass, and we've had a few disagreements... but I can't deny the fact that he's been a great boon. He seems to be struggling with his power a little, but he's had enough practice to keep himself safe. We've been camping out in the supply room for a few weeks now, but we've agreed to take shifts to keep the Prowlers and Scavengers at bay. Every time it's my shift, I'm greeted by piles of ash or burning corpses. I'm glad the kid can fend for himself, but he has quite a fiery attitude when provoked. I've tried to treat him without disdain now that we've gotten to know each other a little more. Not sure he appreciates the company, but it's probably the best he'll ever find these days.

As much as I hate to admit it, I do have some respect for the kid.

There have been a few Prowlers outside recently... yeah, they've got names now. I've been sketching them up and jotting down their specific traits during my shifts. Not much else to do, really. I've also realised that using my power dehydrates me, so I asked the kid if I could have priority with the bottled water we found in the cooler. I almost passed out the other night, but I'm sure the kid is intelligent enough to understand the situation. He'd be putting us both at risk, otherwise. Well, if he's to stick to the deal we made, anyway.

I don't expect the kid to turn on me, but I'm still cautious. He'd truly be playing with fire if he ever dared to try anything like that. But it's just like I said: the kid is intelligent. Besides, I think we're actually beginning to get along. We've got plenty of food left, and things are running in a military fashion... just the way I like it. It works, and we're both getting something out of it.

Hope the kid doesn't go overboard with that neat power of his.
Hope the kid starts to learn how to control that fire of his a little more. I think it hurts him a little every time he uses it. Not sure if my water can heal burns, but it might be worth asking him about it soon. Must be horrible for him...

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Tue Oct 15, 2013 10:43 am

Day 84

Fucking hell.

Burns're getting worse... Rede's been quiet though, barring the fighting, the the occassional witticism... the fire seems to tire him out... The night after Kiera the Domme started getting priority with the water... She needs it more than me, she does... But he didn't make an appearance for a couple of days... The pain seems to purge the insanities of him, at least for a time. Plainly, though, that's... unsustainable. And I think she can tell. How could she not see it though? I'm looking worse by the day.

I didn't have to worry about how I looked before her, it just... happened. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier going it alone again... But... I...

...

... I don't think I want to be alone.

And now I feel like a fucking parasite, leeching off of her, off of her (I think) forced compliments, her food, her company...

I might feel better if it wasn't so bleedingly obvious, but it's like we're not talking about... How I'm coping, how we're coping, to spare my feelings. I think that might be best, though. I need to be focussed for when it's my turn to go out there. That's why I started doing these things properly, instead of letting Rede scrawl his madness all over the place...

Rede... He drew Dad in one of the earlier pages.

What am I meant to do?


In the distance, he could make out the loud screams of iron hinges. Kiera must've finished the last shift, presumably. Ameth never got much sleep, but he'd been even more restless than usual lately, between the pains and the worry. Still, he'd pretend, until she left for her turn, for her sake. He doubted that she bought it now, or ever had, given how tired he was beginning to look, but it was just another habit he'd settled in to. He stood from the corner that constituted his room - his bag a pillow, his coat a quilt - and made for the cooler. As a courtesy, he'd lately begun to fill bottles of water for his partner, as her shift came to an end. There were three ready, already. Still, one more couldn't hurt...
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sun Oct 27, 2013 2:58 am

Not long after jotting down some more notes in her journal, Keira grabbed her blade and slung it over her shoulder using a makeshift length of rope in replacement for her broken belt. It was hot outside, and the thick layer of dust lingering in the air had gotten to her lungs. As if things were bad enough for her already, the heat outside, and the heat of battle, had exhausted her to a point of near-dizziness again. She felt nauseated; a migraine keeping her military mind from keeping in sync. But at least her shift was over, and she could rest for the night.

She picked herself up from a rusty armchair she'd be using and brushed herself down, sighing. A sharp pain shot through the upper-half of her right arm, causing her to grit her teeth; exhaling through them with a coarse groan. She looked down to examine the wound. Her leather jacket had been torn right through, though she'd ripped off the sleeve with her knife so that she could use it as a bandage. The rest of her arm was soaked with dark crimson, her fingertips a cliff for the droplets of blood to topple over, tainting the ground with red.

Shit... this is bad.

She took a moment to re-examine the wound. It was bleeding profusely; endless streams of red painting her arm. She'd lost about a lot of blood since her last fight, yet she had refused to retreat - determined to finish her shift and put an end to the prowlers that had been living nearby.

I shouldn't have gone in there alone. But, at least we'll be safe now. It needed to be done. At least the kid's shift'll be easier now.

Keira removed her broken belt from her bag and tied it around her wounded arm for extra support. Quick flashes of prowler's den darted through her mind. Glowing, golden eyes staring back at her from the dark corner of a bonepile. Lowly, menacing growls warning her to back away. Yet she ignored it, and prowled the demon-wolf's den like one of their own. In a matter of minutes, she had cleared the cave out.

I think it's broken...

She admitted as she opened up the door back to her 'humble' abode. After closing it behind her, she locked it up with a key and slumped down onto her backside; her back against thee rusty metal plating of the door. Her eyes soon found the fire-child. She smiled in a motherly fashion, knowing all too well that he'd ask about her wound.

She had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it. One that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on him with an irresistible prejudice in his favor. It understood him just as far as he probably wanted to be understood. It was a smile that said: "I'm okay. Don't worry about me. I'm back, at least."

"Sorry I'm late, kid." she said, continuing to smile. The way she said 'kid' wasn't condescending anymore, but rather like a big sister returning to see her little brother after a hard day at work... like she'd promised to play with him, but had turned up late.

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sun Oct 27, 2013 4:10 am

He was tending to the fourth bottle when he heard her voice behind him. Nodding, he turned to face her, bottle in hand. Of course, his eyes immediately found the wound, but his mouth said nothing. Face paling, he turned back around and placed the container with the others. He stayed like that, back to her, staring at the wall for many long minutes, before turning again. He looked at her with those bright - albeit dulling - blue eyes; he'd discarded the last of his contact lenses a couple of days after settling in. They were hardly practical. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but closed it immediately, and simply shook his head. Whether it was from exasparation, or concern, he really wasn't sure. He leant against the wall, and stilled himself in the silence, as thoughts, looks, and body language screamed a conversation, and nobody said a word. When he finally decided to say something, his voice was shrill, and tired; it matched perfectly the weakened, deathly complexion his face had gained over the last couple of weeks.

"Kiera..."

He frowned then, and looked to the ground. Had he been Rede, he would have chastised and argued and shouted. He would have told her of the stupidity of whatever inevitably reckless actions had caused the wound - she had not been touched since they had settled here, so she was surely capable of avoiding harm. He would have reminded her on how they were running out of food and could scarce afford such things. He would have told her that they were running out of medicine, especially pain killers, while refusing to note that it had been him that had been guzzling them every time he needed to sleep. If he was daring enough, he would have even reminded her of their deal, and that they were not friends, only partners, and that he was completely willing to leave her if she dared become a burden. He would have said something.

But he wasn't Rede. And the silence was deafening enough without him contributing even more to the headaches that were frequenting him lately. Sighing, Ameth found some way to continue on to the topic that he had meant to bring up before seeing the wound, opting to avoid that topic, at least for now. If she wanted him to deal with it, she could bloody well ask for it.

"... What are we doing here? We're getting worse every day... Food'll run out... Medicine almost has anyway, and those that won't are meant for a fuck-tonne of shit that I hadn't even heard of until I'd read the boxes. We can't use it..."

Groaning, he rubbed his face with those small hands, before folding his arms, to find some kind of respectability, and boldness. He straightened his form sharply, and recovered his composure. He was clearly afraid, but cleared his throat, and tried to harness some of the Rede in him. He sounded much more sure of himself when he opened his mouth this time.

"We can't stay here... And I don't mean just here... I'm not even sure if we can stay in this city anymore. Even if we survive, which we could, we're the only ones that seem to be able to kill the fuckers, at least, without losing an arm and a leg over it. Pretty soon, all our fellow roaches will be dead and then all we'll have is a lot of new friends, and a shiny new crypt... We need to get out of here. Pack our bags, and come the dawn, run,"
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Thu Dec 19, 2013 12:42 am

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, similar to the moment where the warmth of a stoked fire is about to fade into nothing but ashes. Or perhaps, more fittingly, the washing waves of the sea against the wayside of a burning vessel: almost as if the crew had been forgotten, and the care had been lost in the depths of a desolate storm.

“There’s not a single one of those prowlers left.” She quipped, evidently making quite an effort to overcome the pain in her left arm. “We’re safe here for a week, at least. Thought I’d buy us some more time before we finally decide to ditch this hellhole.” Her thoughts immediately drifted to Rede’s pain, all of which he’d had to put up with during his shifts. That power of his seemed more damaging than hers, though in return, seemed to give him access to a fury only known to demon’s from the darkest depths of that desolate crag below the city.

Keira crawled over to the cooler nearby and swooped up the bottled water that had been readied for her, being sure to give a thankful nod on her way past. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about something…” she began, sitting atop the box and propping her back against the wall behind it. Her blood seemed to seep in through the cracks below; her weary gaze suddenly becoming much harder for her to focus. Keira chugged down half a bottle before wiping her lips clean and continuing with what she had in mind.

“Those burns of yours…” She muttered, taking yet another moment longer to think about the situation she wished to bring up. “Painkillers aren’t going to help, y’know? And burns like that aren’t going to heal of any means that are currently available to us. If you keep on going like that, you’ll eventually burn yourself away… so, I was thinking… that maybe, something I’ve been working on might be of your interest, and certainly might acquire the interest of your well-being.”

Keira, for a moment, tried to at least sound professional about her upcoming request; wishing that the young male would take her up on it. Although she didn’t show it very often, there was an ounce of her pride that called out to him. They were effectively, the same – but at least they weren’t alone anymore. “Well, this is going to sound like some clerical bullshit, but hear me out. I think… I think I might be able to use this water of mine to heal you; or perhaps, just to lighten the burden of pain, if only temporarily…”

We won’t last long if you’re stubborn enough to decline my help… isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it obvious that, by now, that however coincidental it might seem… that us two have been placed together. I don’t believe in fate, because I like to think that I make my own decisions in life. But life? What’s left of it? We’re going to have to make the most of what we’ve got. And if we’re not willing to try out the potential of the powers we’ve been blessed with, then what use are we to one another?

Accepted offer or not, she continued off on a different track of thought. “It’s true that we’re running out of supplies, and I agree that we need to get out of this hellhole of a city… but before we do, it’s necessary for us to make plans. We can’t afford to wander aimlessly.”

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Thu Dec 19, 2013 9:56 pm

He felt so very small then. This towering figure of water loomed above him. ‘Are you okay, brother?’ her smile seemed to say. ‘Worn out already?’ whispered her eyes. She was being sincere, most likely, and he knew that. And so it was that he not only began to hate his weakness – Rede’s leftover thoughts, no doubt – but also his hatred of his weakness. He shook once, and tried to pretend it was cold, but his throat was too parched to speak, so he turned from her to get an empty bottle, filled it, and turned back as he drank.

Maybe I want to burn myself away he thought when the bottle was empty. I mean, it keeps Rede away, so how could it be bad? If I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll smoke him out before I snuff my own life force out. Then I’ll be free… His gaze softened, and his eyes tried to communicate those thoughts to her after she’d proposed her plan. The fire-child sighed agonisingly, burnt out as he was. Rede wouldn’t have approved, but then, that was an argument for it, if anything.

The silence screamed abuse at him until he spoke his answer, no matter how much he tried to delay. “Yes,” was what he said, and his nod lagged behind his answer, almost guiltily so. He avoided her gaze when he spoke, but he found it in him to catch those eyes when he said what he said next.

“And thanks,”

He smiled at her: as much for her sake, as it was for his. Looking about, to see if there was anywhere that he could sit comfortably, he was disappointed to find only the surface where he’d place the bottles of water. After he’d moved them to one side, he sat down, and found himself hesitating. He was tempted to ask her how she wanted to do this, but he found himself wanting to get it done with, and presuming that she would need access to as much of his body as was reasonable, he unbuttoned his shirt, and threw it over to his corner, where it landed on his coat.

His now-bare body was, frankly, a mess. It was not particularly impressive to begin with; the few hairs on his chest were scraggly, and though his arms and stomach showed faint outlines of formed muscles, he personally wouldn’t have thought it something to aspire to; with respects to physical exertion, he clearly got by on pure grit and determination. But the real mess were the burns; though his forearms were wrapped in old bandages, the rest of his body seemed to shrivel with them; scars, bones pushing against his already thin body to show themselves to the world, and twisted burns, some of which seemed to have melted parts of his flesh, some of which blackened it, some of which simply disfigured it.

Ameth frowned, and looked from her, obviously ashamed, for equally obvious reasons. He opened his mouth, to speak, but closed it soon after, quite unsure of what he could realistically say to her. He tried to address it with a ‘What, were you expecting something handsome, maybe?’ but, he at least, felt that the joke fell down badly. He shook his head, and rubbed nervously, the back of his neck. “It might be best to discuss such plans when you’ve cleaned up after your inevitable sick...”
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Sat Dec 21, 2013 10:19 am

The aquamorph, almost as hesitant as he, sat beside him and made herself comfortable; giving him enough time to reconsider, if he so wished to so. A minute or two passed as she merely examined his exposed burns and disfigurements, yet not once did she turn away or feel a deep churning in her sea-hardy stomach. Aboard her old vessel, she'd seen many-a-wound that would be considered tough on the eyes, and flesh-searing burns that tickled the nose in the most torturing of ways. Again, she smiled that charm of hers and finally shuffled close enough for her to hold his hands in hers. For a moment, she was caught in his fiery eyes, as if to try and discern his thoughts. She could have sworn there was another within him, lingering in the shadows and smoke. She reassured her weary mind and shook it off nonchalantly.

Just the pain... I'm seeing things I'm not supposed to be seeing. Curse the Sirens, I better be quick about it.

Keira gently unwrapped his bandages with a touch ill befitting of her usual nature; it was soft and motherly, a nurses reassuring grace. She further examined his burns and sighed quietly, shaking her head from side to side; disapproving of his weakness, more so than her own, which she quite clearly despised. The old salt held his hands up a little, and then continued to caress the tips of her fingers upon the more sinister of his fire-touched skin. Of course, she was testing the nerve-endings, hoping the feeling in his arms were still there. Nevertheless, she smiled again and offered some friendly words of caution. "I won't subject you to any pain without your consent. I'm going to try this on my own wound first, just in case this goes pear-shaped." She frowned at her colloquialism, but shrugged sheepishly nonetheless. Quite obviously, she was getting nervous.

I hope this works...

And with that, she graced her broken left arm with the soft touch of her right arm. She closed her eyes as the stinging pain tore right through it again, but she remained calm. After exhaling a deep breath, the aquamorph reassured her grip, and concentrated the focus of her powers to the tips of her fingers. A luminescent flash of teal was suddenly emitted, and her eyes opened with a similar glow to them. A soft sizzle boiled her flesh, though it soothed her wound closed in an instant. In a momentary flick of her fingers, the seemingly painless process was over and done with. She turned to the fire-child and nodded her head. "I can't fix bones, but I can mend flesh, it seems. Makes sense, I guess..."

With that she took his hands again, and offered the younger male the same treatment. "I hope it works for burns like those. Shall I give it a go?" she asked politely, waiting for an answer. If agreed, she would proceed to heal what she could of his arms, being sure to take momentary breaks to replenish her vitality with a few swigs of water. Unfortunately, this extraordinary power of hers drained her much more than that of her usual powers. She could already feel herself dehydrating... and the thought of it scared her.

"You can say no..." she reassured him, feeling a sudden obligation to remind him that he definitely had a choice in the matter. "I mean... I know you guys like to keep battle-scars in order to show off to us ladies." she quipped jokingly, hoping to lighten the tension between them. Keira stifled a chuckle and shrugged.

"You know... you don't have to stay with me." she added, turning the tide a little. "You're entitled to your own plans... your own, well... opinions. I feel like we've been forced together, coincidental or not... I, of all people, understand the value of freedom, y'know? I think we've now got as much freedom as we could ever want, and it hasn't really hit us hard enough yet. Well, there are no rules anymore. There are no laws, no rules, no social obligations... nothing. I..." she cut herself short and shook her head.

"Bah... I guess you already know all of this. I'm just being a sentimental old woman... so don't listen to me." she said, scratching the back of her head. "I just want you to know that, if you want to part ways... no hard feelings, alright? Sometimes, as much as we hate to admit it, fire and water have to work together to get things done. After that, they're back to being rivals again, right? It's like... letting the fire boil the broth. If you boil it for too long though, the water bubbles over..."

Again, she cut herself short, blushing this time. For some reason, her words weren't coming out correctly. "I've never been good with all of this... metaphorical bullshit."

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Wed Dec 25, 2013 9:41 am

It seemed that Ameth had very different view of their relationship than Kiera, or Rede did.

"If -I- just... leave, it'll just be me and him. I will be quite content in my ruts without such a watery catalyst to fuel me. I will be, by definition, stuck. And if I'm standing still while the world is moving, I'm going to get left behind, just like I was before all of this," A dull memory flicked beneath those eyes, that had trailed from her face, off to some blackened wall that held no such judgmental sentience, but he shook it from him, and turned to her with a frown. "We're all necessary evils; the demons, the loneliness, Rede... Even you, Kiera, even I. But you're the evil I chose, and whether it was out of a selfish, self-serving attitude or not, I don't regret that choice. So I won't be leaving, as much as you might want me to. And these... 'battle-scars' are even more useless when the only ladies around these days are corpses. Please, get on with it," He looked from her again, though this time his gaze guiltily dipped to the ground, which held even less love than the wall. He would have apologized for his lack of... sympathy, or understanding, had she not been staring at his weakness laid bare. Or perhaps he wouldn't have; he was unsure.

Ameth was starting to think that she would deprive him of his reprieve, out of spite, for what he saw as being unappreciative, despite the fact that it had been intended... to be otherwise, but then he felt something: where her fingers touched his hands, he had a vague sense of pressure - the kind that reminded him of the rush when swimming. That strange sensation slowly covered his hands, and when it reached his wrists, he felt the feeling shoot out all around him. Looking down, he saw that his veins glowered. That was, before his body, before Rede, noticed.

His body, his lungs, his veins, all of it clenched suddenly. He began to choke, and instinctively, his body began to gather his power to purge himself of that alien stimulant, though whether it was him, or Rede doing the gathering, he was unsure. Ameth, regaining self control for a moment, managed to push himself from Kiera, lest what was happening hurt her, but the waters were already inside of him. He curled up into something that reminded him of a fetal position, and as his fire was stoked, as Kiera's healing waters began to evaporate, and as the glowing began to dim to a glimmer of what it had been, he screamed out, in pain and anguish and a great mixture of many other things. When the lights had died, the waters rose as steam from him, and he felt Rede calm.

It was around about then that Ameth opened his eyes again. He saw most of the steam rising up, though some, naturally, had condensed upon him. From where he was, he looked up to Kiera, his eyes holding an apology all of its own, but when he made to dry his chest with a hand, the burn marks slid off as if they were water. Looking to his hand, the black liquid stared angrily back at him, and he rubbed it on the floor until it was no more. Scampering, almost gleefully, to his coat, he dried the rest of the scars, and burns, and other signs of pain that the fire had unknowingly helped Kiera purge.

When he was done, his burn-less flesh was raw, as if it had been scalded, or as if it had been birthed prematurely.  The newborn fire-child looked at the woman at the other end of the room, and walked to her. Uncomfortably, he opened his mouth to speak, but of course no words came! Instead, he screamed his thanks, by embracing her in a hug.
When he realized what he was doing, he stepped back, and shook the slight blush from his cheeks. Ameth cleared his throat, and turned, and began to put on his clothes, and then his coat, and then his bag, all in silence. When that was done with, he shrugged awkwardly, as if even he didn't know what the hell he was doing. "Well the-" He coughed up the last of the black water, and wiped the dribble from his face with a sleeve, and tried to continue. "Let's, ehhh... Let's talk plans. Where are we heading, what are we getting, what are we doing?" when he smiled her way, he was almost sure he saw something other than the concern that a nurse has for a patient...

Somewhere, he was sure that comparatively bright future was a possibility, but that was not here, and it was not now. When he stopped day-dreaming, he saw that he was still sat before her. When he felt the water enter him, not great strangeness befell him, only normality. He waited there for some minutes, as his body ached in the cold, but when he saw the thin wisps of steam rise with nary a tingle to show for it, he stood silently, brushing the dust from his shins when he had risen Rede had acted fast enough to eliminate the threat, and they both knew it. He leaned against that unfeeling wall. Then, he shouted something, and punched its bricks until his hand hurt more than his heart did. When he looked down at then hand - his left - the skin on the knuckles were torn, and blood trickled from them. He doubled over, and raised his bloodied hand to his mouth, so that he might stifle a squeal of pain. When he remembered that he was not alone, he looked to Kiera, straightened himself, and combed his hair with a hand. "I guess he boiled the broth, eh?" he quipped, but the smile that accompanied it was so obviously false he shouldn't have bothered. Nevertheless, he didn't want to dwell on it, or let her continue to see him, and so he walked to his corner, and put back on his deposited clothing. "What do we have to do, then?" he coughed out when that task was accomplished. "I hope it involves killing us some assholes, or demons, or something. I don't fancy talking to Rede right now," he nodded once, but even his bravest face couldn't hide the new fear in his eyes, that apparent realization of his predicament.
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Fri Dec 27, 2013 1:25 am

Though her militaristic mindset was calm and composed, and her brash albeit cool personality was most certainly on show, the aquamorph cracked her knuckles and shrugged her shoulders to warm up. After a few minutes of watching the fire-child break down and bloody his knuckles, she smiled an expression that clearly showed the neutrality of her opinions towards the males inner-self. Little did she care for schizophrenic tendencies, lest the two got in her way, of course. Nevertheless, she and him seemed to be getting along splendidly, despite his sudden burst of pain and anger... or so she liked to think, if only to numb her mind of her own natural personality weaknesses. Keira stayed silent as she let him calm down a little, offering a seat at her side should he wish to take it. As the silence went by, she thought to herself... of the old times, and what people had said to her. Lots of different words of advice and funny little quips whizzed through her mind. The most memorable seemed to come first, followed by those which just seemed to appear from the depths of nowhere and nothingness.

"Never get into an argument with a schizophrenic person and say: 'Who do you think you are?' I'd say it drives them crazy, but that seems a little redundant if they truly are in that state of mind..." Heh... how apt...

"When I lost my rifle, the Army charged me £85. That's why in the Navy, the Captain goes down with the ship." Was that one of mine? I think so...

Keira snapped herself back to reality for a moment, and realising that the male had decided not to sit beside her, took to her feet and headed for the door. She favoured pragmatism, at least, and could quite clearly see that this lad was not the type to sit around and talk about what could and should be, rather than walking and talking about what can and will be. The female aquamorph parted her wet lips to speak, but ended up gulping down the last of her bottled water. She then wiped her lips and sighed, opting to speak aloud this time. And, oh, how she sounded more her age. The wisdom of sailing the seven seas about her in every concept imaginable... the tone, the reassuring vibe to her unbroken sentences, the glaze of adventure in her eyes, and the confidence of one who had seen things mere mortals were not supposed to have seen. And yet, even during her seemingly pretentious quips, she still managed to muster up a fine balance of fact and fiction. It was almost like she was catering to both of his inner-personalities; like an act of kindness, acknowledging both of them with her words. She knew now, that being harsh was certainly not the answer with the fire-child. It would only stoke the flames.

"The preparations are what they are. We're here. There's a storm brewing, and it will come and go like the wind. We are as best prepared as we can be as the eye of the storm approaches, and yet we find ourselves obligated to make plans and predict the uncertainties we'll most likely face out there. Plans are all well and good, but guidelines are a more realistic option here. That way, we don't get to fail..." she smirked, trying to lighten up the tension between them again. He was certainly making it rather difficult, but she was a determined individual, and despised to see him like that.

Keira turned over the almost empty cooler and sprung out her map of the city. It was riddled with circles and crosses, and curved lines indicating their previous "runs" to gather supplies. The tip of her finger came down to grace the laminated paper. It was a latitudinal map with accurate co-ordinates; either taken from somebody of the military, or somebody who liked collecting such things. Her finger drew a simple snake-like pattern through some alleys and past some of the locations they had yet to explore. It seemed like a plausible route to take, especially since it ended near the city's exit, leading south-west to the forests and wilds. Keira was no skilled hunter, but being in the military had granted her some geographical and ecological knowledge, should she have been pushed into a survival situation. This type of survival situation was definitely not in any of the books she had read.

"If we zig-zag through these alleys, and jump over some of these walls on our way, we'll be able to avoid the inner-areas of the city. Saves us from being out in the open too, right? We've not had too much trouble with bandits, but I'd rather avoid them... for obvious reasons, of course." she took a moment to re-examine her carefully chosen route, and then smiled again. "Yeah, this definitely seems like the most efficient way to get our supplies. Glad we decided to mark down the stores that had gone untouched, huh? Nice thinking, kid." she said, again, not trying to be condescending about it; favouring her "older sister" approach again.

"It's not that we can't deal with them. Even though they might have some decent supplies with them, it's best if we avoid larger groups to save ourselves the trouble of drawing in more of those blighted demons. With this broken arm of mine, I might not be able to fight as well as I usually do. I'm left-handed, so... looks like I'll be without my blade for a bit. You any good with one? I can lend it to you, if you want to give it a shot. I'll teach you a few things, y'know?" for some reason, her offering of help seemed to cause a slight blush to fade in across her cheeks. "Guess it wouldn't hurt to teach you how to use a blade, should we find one for you to use along the way, right?"

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Thu Jan 23, 2014 8:04 am

Darkly, and ever so kindly, he shook his head.

"Thanks, but no thanks. We've not the time. Besides, I have a blade of my own, or have you forgotten? I'll bet that prowling fuck won't,"

He opened his bag, and checked its contents. The revolver, with its dark tarnished steel, its black plastic handle coverings and its short, snubbed nose, looked as if it were filled with malice, but it was loaded with all of five rounds, so he didn't care any more for it, and placed it in his right coat pocket. His lighter, which had been cast from a mold of a screaming skull with fiery eyes, that was itself on fire, brought the slightest of smiles to his face, but that wasn't what he was looking for either. It was his knife that he was searching for, and yet, when he found it, his face could only darken. He raised it from the bag, for all to see. Under the speckles of dirt and age, the handle was pale green, and was sized for an adult's hand, not his. The blade was slender, and was also specked, though with rust and dried red, rather than mud. Either way, it was much cleaner than the handle, and despite the flecks that might have suggested otherwise, was much better kept.

"This. Got me a prowler with it, the day we met... Well, Rede did, but same difference, no?"

The knife he placed in a trouser pocket, and then he rose, filled with a perverse indignation, leaving Kiera to pack up the map, and the like. He knew that the way he was behaving was nothing short of obtuse, but he was nowhere near being in a mood to care. As far as he was concerned, that guilt was a pang amongst a growing torrent. He just wanted to get moving already; if he was doing something, he certainly couldn't think, right? He left her there, and traced the walls back to the ladder. He quickened his pace, to give himself more time, and clambered his way up the ladder. The hatch was heavy, and gave him more than enough trouble, delaying him well enough, but it soon gave way, and flung open. He closed it behind him - she could open it herself - and sat down, in the dust, against the outside of the shack.

Then, he cracked. No tears would come to him, and he would hate himself forever for that, he could tell. He felt so cold, and buried his head into his knees. Then he banged that supposedly clever head on them, and punched the world about him. When he breathed out, he shuddered, when he breathed in, his stomach clenched like a noose about his midsection. He would've punched that too, but... No, he wouldn't. He just wouldn't. His head was bursting with fears and doubts that he couldn't circumvent, or clear and so instead, he pulled and clawed at his head of hair, but he only succeeded in grazing his scalp. After a few minutes of lashing out at himself and his surroundings, he banged his head against the shack wall behind him. The frail building shook in response, and a cracked window broke, covering him with splinters of glass. He shook them from him, and found himself peering at a reflection, in one of the larger pieces. He thought about its uses, but quivered, for every time he did, he pictured his mother.

"I know what you are," the reflection whispered.

The boy scowled at it.

"I know, oh yes, I know!" it giggled grimly.

The boy turned away, rising to his feet.

"A beater and a whore! A whore and a beater!" it sang.

"Shut up..." a trembling voice found only those words, and he began to quake.

"Your father and your mother! Your mother and your father!" he laughed, and laughed some more.

"SHUT UP!" the child screamed, stomping up and down, until the laughing pane was crushed beneath his leathery soul, as well as his boot. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"

Then, and only then, was he allowed to cry, but even then, it felt like it was not enough. Kiera would join him soon, he knew, and the last thing he wanted was for his hollow eyes to be reddened, as well. She hated weakness, he knew, and he was showing too much already... Any more, and well... She would leave. He knew that, too. He rubbed his eyes clean, and tensed until water stopped, and rubbed his eyes again. He breathed out, long and hard, and looked out to the wasteland that surrounded what had been his home for that past month or so.

Night was upon them already, or else the black clouds had blocked out all light. As his body coursed with agony, he saw it: the last pale light, of a long, long day. The sky caught fire as it slowly dipped, and for so many moments, the world was beautiful again. But then the dying star left him, and the long shade of another night loomed above. The rain fell as spittle at first, but it wasn't long before it fell as a real rain should: harsh, and angrily. He stepped inside as it picked up, and watched the sky. Silent bursts of lightning littered it, and growling thunder followed, and all the boy called Ameth could do was laugh at the injustice of it all.
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Tue Mar 11, 2014 11:15 pm

She was immediately in pursuit, drawn to him like a moth to a flame as his feelings began to show. In his eyes, she saw a dark pain that haunted him – a dark space of morose thoughts that no fire should ever have to face alone. In his moment of anguish, she saw that he was a flickering lantern. When one side of his personality showed, it was full of life, like a kindled flame – whilst the other side of him was the one who held it: a dark and mysterious being that hated the dark, and perhaps, used it as a mask for the torment he seemed to face. Never before had she been enlightened in such a way, that the guiding light still left in his eyes served a purpose of seeing the person beneath the mask. As long as this young man had his flames, she would be able to see him for who he was – a kindled flame in times of darkness… a raging firestorm in times of grief… and a young man who has the potential of fire in his hands, yet chooses to avoid the welcoming warmth it offers – the baleful burns it brings.

When she saw that his eyes were not filled with flames, and instead, filled with the power that she herself had sought to master, she felt a sliver of pain dwell within her cold and hardened heart. She was at his side immediately; comforting him with her blood-stained fingers; a touch as graceful as her swordplay. To him though, who might not have cherished the unintentional sting of water meeting fire? She took caution as to not let the steam rise from his skin. “Hey, look.” She said. “I don’t know why we’ve been blessed with these powers of ours, but now that we’ve got them, we shouldn’t let them get the better of us. If we do, then we’re just going to end up as one of those monsters… or, at least, a part of their diet.” She continued, trying to muster up a comforting smile.

“If you keep letting your feelings get you down like this, then you’re just going to end up dead. And if we, as a functional team, and a damn good one at that, fail to understand that our feelings are a direct influence on our powers, then we’re not going to last very long. I know it’s difficult, and I know I don’t mean much to you at all, but sticking together is most certainly beneficial for our rate of survival… and I’ll be damned if I let a good kid waste himself away.” Kiera took a moment to think, and seemed gently wistful for a moment. In her eyes, waves swirled and crashed.

”I already let one good kid do that, and I lost him to the sea. Ironic, isn’t it? The one person I cherished most, and it was the waves that took him. Somehow, if they’re up there, the Gods truly do have a wicked sense of humour. So, stop whining like you’re the only one with problems from the past around here. I have my fair share too kid.” She said, putting a stern tone to her voice. Her heart throbbed as memories began to sink in, but she fought them off… just as she always did.

”Now, get up.” She prompted. “We’re leaving.”

Kiera grabbed her belongings and clipped her longsword onto the left side of her belt, and before long, she was all set to head out into the dreary world before them. Not once did she turn back to see if he was following, and merely assumed that eventually, he would catch up with her. If not… then best of luck to him. It was his choice to make, after all…

Time Skip


It had been a long and arduous trek from the hideout. It had taken her through the dark alleys of the city, and through the untouched markers of her map; all, seemingly, for very little. She had filled her bag with tinned food and wrapped meat dashed with salt serving as a preservative. In her search, she had also found some sealed tomato seeds. She was no farmer, but it was worth trying at least… once (and if) she found a suitable place to stay. Not that she expected to do so anytime soon, of course. It just saved her a trek back into that rusty old cage of a city. It felt like a dam to her – restricting her flow of movement… containing her until the rebellious floods sought anarchy. There were no such floods recently, and being around the flame-child had made the air around them arid and barren; dry and free of any water vapour. On top of that, it hadn’t rained in days…

As she came out of the city gates, and into the free world outside, she immediately made note of the disaster that had been set before her. The amber sunset hung in the sky, casting a red mist over the broken fields. Sand whipped and whistled at her heels as the gales of wind aimed to strip away her dignity. She had little left to give, and even less to care. The broken world have given way to nature, and let it consume the city outskirts in flames and water. Now that they had been personified, it seemed all the more contained, lest their angers be measured be temperate conditions or bandit-folk. And then, surely, the world would see two opposite aspects of nature working together.

Once, when literature was prominent, water was a universal symbol of change, and was often present at turning points in a story. Since water was often a sign of life, many times water represented life. But these waters were not clear, nor were they pure.

Never had she searched so furtively for a safe place to rest. The outside world was now a barren wasteland, torn asunder by trials of war between humans and whatever else that was out there. But she was no amateur of survival, and her mind aided her in finding a suitable place to rest: an old cabin in a nearby area of woodlands, which had barely been touched. The windows were still in good shape, and there was lots of spare wood lying around for makeshift barricades. Surprisingly, there was also lots of scrap metal in the basement, and a climbing kit – which included a length of rope, a grappling hook, and plenty of reinforced clips, amongst other various items needed for a safe ascent. She kept them at hand, and then returned to the living room upstairs.

“So, this’ll have to do for tonight.” She said, turning to the flamechild, should he have chosen to stick by her side. If not, to herself. She knew she’d encounter him again. He was too stubborn to die. Too much coal keeping his fire burning… or something like that. The thought amused her. “Seems safe to me.”

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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Tue May 13, 2014 4:50 am

When she turned her back, he was given to wondering whether she had eyes in the back of her head, eyes that could see that he would've given much to be able to bludgeon her there, to feel the impact of her skull shattering writhe its way up her wrist, to feel her blood splash across her face, to see that smile snuffed out, as the life in her eyes faded away, all that knowledge and 'advice' damning, rather than helping. But that sounded so much like Rede, that the hatred she had spurned was turned back on himself. There was no Rede, the voices said, only you. Your quiet excuses, your quiet mistakes, your quiet insanities, you quiet boy.

He fell forwards, his hands gripping at the dirt. Those hands, that had slain his mother, slain his father. One had shouted, the other had laughed, much as they had in life. But they were dead, and he was not, and that was what mattered. The day was as dead as them now, the sun sinking at last behind those buildings, those last refuges of so many, as if it to was the last refuge of light itself. The howling winds began to wail, whipping at his coat, the cold clawing at his body, face, tears. Even as the world darkened, he could see glimmers of flame dancing on his hands. There, they seemed to be everything he was not. Aflame with hope and freedom. It was for them that he struggled to his feet, he told himself. The fireling did not want to face the notion that he was too scared to die, as well. At least, not today. The wind seemed even angrier when he had stood, but there was nothing it could do to stop him. It only fanned his determination. Grasping one of his bag straps, he flung it over his shoulder, and held it with his left hand, his revolver clasped in his right.

I will live, to spite them, if nothing else
, was what he told himself that night, and the night after that.

*

In time, stardust fades, but Ameth would rather beg for salvation, than let Kiera know that, now. His swallowed anger and pride seemed to make the air arid and dry, as he walked, as if his thoughts gave out an aura of hatred. The lack of rain did not help either, and though he was not using his fire, he was still taking on a considerable amount of water... Though at least they had more than enough of that, for now. And at least he wasn't expending much energy, besides the walking. He barely talked for the duration of their journey, preferring to answer any query with grunts, nods, or actions. At least for while he was stewing over her words, however he interpreted them, he was not in the mood to give her the satisfaction of meaningful conversation.

He struggled along behind her the whole way, struggling. Not with the walk, but the other things, the little things. Sometimes fake smiles were hard to muster, but he did it all the same. It would not serve to foster weakness, not now that he knew where they both stood on that matter. Especially not now. At least he had the strange, sullen beauty of a dying world. There was fire, and there was water, each in turn, and each as black as the last; the fire, smokey and guttering, the water, muddy and undrinkable. Gods forbid he'd have to resort to that. Out here, he might need to be more careful, much more so than what he had been.

Some nights they slept under hedges, others they slept in shacks. Most nights they slept under trees, looking out to the stars, as if balls of fire and gas so many miles away could help them. Perhaps Kiera still thought that way... She seemed like the type to him, as much as she liked to act otherwise. After-all, life was an act.

On the twelfth night they found that cabin, after far too much searching. Though, looking about, with the amount of supplies, and with how well looked after the place seemed to be, one had to be suspicious. They were getting far too lucky for his liking, and it made him uneasy. He stood there, in the living room, like a shadow, staring at various objects, anything that moved. His usually pale face seemed even more unwell with the displaced colour in his cheeks that fresh air had given him, but at least he wasn't de-hydrated. After a long time, he nodded, a somewhat stern frown etched into his skin, like he was born for it. "Aye, s'pose. Though, with supplies like this, I doubt someone would just leave them here..." But he knew there was no point arguing about such things now. What mattered, was that it was a haven in the drought, however temporary.
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PostSubject: Re: The Seal of Eden - Part 1   Fri Jul 25, 2014 3:39 am

The cottage was abandoned; brooding and neglected. The garden was overgrown; sickly green weeds creeping over the path out front, and the small pond in the back yard was covered in a thick purple slime. A small popping sound emanated from the pond every now and again, as if something was somehow still alive down there. The light of the setting sun reflected in the grimy windows, and the house seemed to be studying the pair of survivors through the bloodshot eyes of an nihilistic old man. It was an image that Keira was all too familiar with; one that seemed to flash before her very eyes when the wind whipped in through the broken windows and caused the squeaky old rocking chair in the corner to sway back and forth. She could have sworn she'd caught an apparition of an old man glaring angrily at them...

It had been a few days since they'd settled down to plan their next route. The kitchen drawers had been generous, which aroused a deep suspicion within her; it was like somebody had claimed this place for themselves recently. There was even a generator out back that seemed to give the place some life, but it was noisy and consumed far more fuel than what was available to them. There were a few containers filled with petrol in the shed outside, but the thick cobwebs and the wasp's nest seemed to stir up more fear in her than the lurkers. She found such thoughts quite amusing; and a little morale boost was all she needed to pick herself up and get things done.

She'd taken some time to hook up the generator in case they needed it for heating or lighting during the cold nights. Keira had, on many occasions, thought to ask her companion to use his power for such things... but she knew all too well what it did to him. The curse for having such capabilities far exceeded the benefit of actually having them, it seemed. For her, dehydration... and for him, horrible burns. They were to be used as a last resort, and that was that.

She'd also taken some time to install some basic traps just outside the perimeter, and had dragged an old floodlight from the basement and attached it to the roof. There was plenty of spare wood and nails lying around too, so she'd also boarded up the windows and applied reinforcements to some of the exposed areas of the brickwork. On top of that, she'd found an old hunting rifle in storage... but there was no ammunition to found. Perhaps there were some in the shed, but... she wasn't about to go in there anytime soon. No, no... he could be the one to do that.

The cottage was far out into the woods, and was surrounded by a thick wall of iron bars; a fanciful fence back in the day, no doubt. Small birds perched upon the spikes and overlooked the woodland atmosphere, chirping happily to one another as they passed by. Some of the more daring creatures even dared to investigate the pond out back; though Keira had been adamant in using such opportunities to get herself a meal. A few snares and a little bit of bait, and she'd nabbed herself a rabbit or two. She always felt guilty for killing animals, but what was she to do? Starve? She'd done enough of that in the past...

After another busy day of fortifying their current abode and hunting out in the woods for food and and supplies, Keira returned with another rabbit and opened up the back door. She was sure to knock once and whistle before entering, save the lad from scorching her alive. "Sorry I took so long, I went a little further out today. There's an old power plant over the hills, y'know? Might be worth coming with me tomorrow to see if the kitchen has been ransacked or not. Food for thought, eh?" she smirked, shrugging her shoulders idly.

"But, er..." she cleared her throat and slumped into the damp fabric of an old couch, dumping her bag of supplies beside her; soon digging her hands inside to pull out some of the contents for him to see. "Found some medicine today. There was an ambulance embedded into a tree." she sat still and stared blankly into thin air for a moment, and then shook her head back to reality. "Er, yeah! Two dead kids in the back; just bones, of course... and the paramedics were in the the front. Their bones were pretty smashed up..." she sighed, shaking her head.

"So, yeah... got some morphine, and some stuff I can't even pronounce. Other than that, I think this place is pretty safe for now. Couldn't even find any lurker tracks, or any evidence of them even being in this area. Tsst... might be the flowers. You think they don't like the smell?" she chuckled. And then something else came to mind, and her expression deepened to something more serious.

"But..." she began, pulling out her map and drawing it open across the table. She pointed to an old highschool on the outskirts of their current location. "You see this place? There are people there. I scouted it out, and they've got patrols going. There are a lot of them, and they seem very organised. Most of them seemed to be armed, but... I think there are only one or two of them who have experience with firearms. Perhaps they're being trained by somebody, I don't know."

"Either way... what do you think we should do?" She smiled, but not in a friendly fashion. It was more of an expression that stated her desire to test him on war strategies. She knew all too well how much he loved to plot, after all...

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~Dante Alighieri, Inferno
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