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- Isa Bianchi -

Isa flinched, completely shocked as he took a full step back. His arms slightly raised in his guard. “Wha- Uroburos?! Is that ya?!” Oh holy sword- it’s the voice in the vault key! He took a step forward again, frowning a bit, worried now.

Well . . . He did not expect the piked heart design for this voice-

“Uroburos, are ya Zosimos all along?” He asked before sending L a leyline message. “Liliana! Larc! I found Uroburos!” He told them where to find him.

Zer0 Zer0
 
- Katulu Camp -
" Windshear, Morning, January 2, 601"
"What do you mean they are dead? They flew on Avian after killing everyone uncontested! They took the drows to Barad Eithel. How could the drows be here, they probably . . . they probably ate them . . . Where did you come from?! How did you come by Lorenzo's mask?!" she demanded, though she had stopped choking Charon and was just keeping him in place.



Χάρων Health: Bruised | Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [6/14] Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1


Charon huffed lethargically and braced himself in a more stable position in her grasp, having stopped struggling finally. Taking a few breaths to reconstitute himself, he continued in a frightened voice, sniffling every so often, "fuh... gods..." he huffed, taking deep breaths, "ah... ah, Theosebia! A me--," realizing his company, he chose his words carefully, "a heretic -- ack -- using a large mechanical golem of some kind killed Theosebia! They were being controlled, but not any more, Avion destroyed the dome and stopped them, a-after Theosebia was vanquished, by Is-- the heretic," he fumbled, the great bird beast which nearly destroyed him must be Avion, "t-the mask! I only found it! In the destroyed dome! You can have it! I don't want it! I'm sorry!" he squealed, wincing at her savage expression, "I, w-who is Lorenzo?! A-anyway, the Drow are back, I'm working with them, let me go or they're going to fire on you!" he pleaded, "h-here," he offered, putting his hands out and up, and high above his head so that she would be able to see him casting a spell clearly. The oar rested where it was and he he added, between heavy breaths, "I-I'm sorry, about the," SNIFF "yeti... you scared me..." and quietly he added in a whisper, "and you stink..."

There was some power in the way Charon could be so pitiful. Something transparent dwelled in his harmlessness. In fact, he tried to be harmful and failed spectacularly. In the back of his mind, he resolved quietly never to fight again if he could help it. It all rubbed him the wrong way. To be chopped up, shot, cut, he winced at his bruised neck, the ridge of her forearm pressing into it. Right through the huge form of snow and trees, she might have crushed his windpipe if not for the beastly girth of his snowy transformation. Nevertheless to inflict such a fate upon something else which could feel pain, even on such a thing as a.. katoo loo? They simply must know such things as joy and affection, else they ought to have conquered the entire world by now. He recalled the illusory forces he created with some effort on the night of the siege of the Dome. Those sorts of tricks suit him better, he thought, and he kicked himself immediately at not having done something similar. There usually came some sensation, he realized, when he thinks clearly, as though he could reach through the world and pluck out solutions, but ever since that gas, no, before that, ever since the drow he helped to murder, his brain was in some kind of fog. It upset him and, frustrated and bruised, he quietly began tearing up again. This all could have been avoided so simply, though it was some solace that he had only put himself in danger, as opposed to some comrades. It was a weird combination to quietly insult the woman whilst silently sobbing like a child.

Whereas once he felt the sensation of a weightless life, as light as air while he rolled down the river, his vision was without clouds and his course was set by instinct and just enough intellect to thrive, he felt now clouded and he could never ground himself any more, as though the world was passing him by through a window, or a dome and just a few seconds late. Now having realized the sensation, his body had the likeness of a prison. This is what drove him to sob like a brat again, his head reclining to the side. Then, a silent chuckle tickled his diaphragm; what a stupid place and time to reminisce. He thrust the ideas out of his head for the occasion and turned it to the side in the same motion that he tilted his head to mourn, looking at her pleadingly, and at the door nervously, Lysanthir did indeed say they were on the way.
 
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- ? -

'What?! We're coming down!' came Liliana's quick reply.

Meanwhile there was a pause from the heart. 'I do not know. I cannot even see. Uroburos and many other names were given to me after being in darkness for so long. Before Tatuba and the others reached out to me. You feel so near, Isa, nearer than they had ever reached me. I heard Liliana shouting too. Oh, I have so many questions! Where am I? What am I?'

Isa glimpsed the laboratory was full of carved figures of strange beings similar to the giant in the tube, models of organs half machine, simlar to the organs of the goliaths, anatomical diagrams, three large tables with straps, a large collection of disecting knives and medical tools, clockwork machines of unknown purpose, magical moving photographs of a much better quality than Isa's camera of open carcasses, and research papers all with a touch of religious aesthetic seemingly about the perfect being. Becoming the perfect being.

The surrounding smaller tubes contained floating specimens attached to tubes that were alien, anthropomorphic, yet had familiar likeness to some beasts and elves: there was one with iridescent scales with long arms that dangled past its bony knees, with what must have been the handsome face of an elf, but was now blue and bloated; there was a pale, eyeless, noseless demon that only had a mouth with an elongated head that had been opened, revealing the soggy tattered bits of its brain, long gone and turned to mush in the water; there were half bodies of humans, halflings, only up to the chest, with marbling skin and open brains much like the bust Isa saw, with missing eyes and hollow mouths. All the specimens were not breathing, unlike the giant one in the tube that had a chest that rose every now and then. And Isa saw at the back that there was a collection of tubes of various rabbit-like things. The ones to the left were stretched out and longer, more mutated than the rabbits to the right, with the last tube labeled: Elixer ST-377, drained, empty, and full of dust as though among all these things this was the only tube Zosimos did not clean.

There were research notes here too. About using the philosopher's stone to reach immortality. And Isa saw something else too. A moving photograph of a familiar, younger, sleeping Granny Ester, floating inside Elixer ST-377:

Katsuya Katsuya


- Katulu Camp -
"Windshear, Morning, January 2, 601"

Slowly the arms released Charon. "You'd stink as well if you were kept as a slave. I'm sorry for hurting you. Seeing that you had the mask scared me as well. I thought you were one of Lorenzo's lackeys here for something . . ." she stepped into the light to retrieve a fallen sword. The morning shone on a scarred and worn stout woman, heavily clad in furs, her very long, curly, black hair matted and shaved on the left side. She was shorter than most ladies, thicker too, with a round brown nose, and what seemed to be side-burns? Something Charon has seen only on dwarven women who grew facial hair just like dwarven men, though this Templar was much too tall for a dwarf, and not that stout. Her brown eyes looked at him, still wary, but there was no vindictive fury there.

"I'm surprised you do not know Lorenzo, though you know Theosebia. They were the ones who did this . . ." she flung her arms towards the outside. "And that is also strange that Avion destroyed the dome . . . the katulus were riding it. They were under their control too . . . Avion . . . it was . . . actually some sort of machine . . ." she shook her head in disbelief. Suddenly, her stomach growled, but she ignored it. "Here . . ." she gave him back his wand and the mask. "I don't want them either. You'd best get rid of that mask too, or someone out there will mistake you for those fiends."

Sisyphus Happy Sisyphus Happy
 
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Χάρων Health: Bruised | Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [6/14] Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

Charon stumbled forward a few steps with a quiet "gah," while rubbing his throat. While this occurrence seemed severe, in some sense, to him, he understood that she thought him to be an enemy. He stood doubled-over in front of her, breathing freely for a few moments before spinning to face her, his hands still up somewhat. He spared a moment to look at her and cleared his throat, "h-here, I'm not looking for a weapon, my tail is just... Don't be alarmed," he said quietly, turning to the side so that she could see what he intended to fumble with, a vague lump trapped by a tucked shirt, which he pulled from a tight sash. A long, slender and scaly tail rolled from it, a vaguely green shine to the reptilian appendage when it twitched and flexed stiffly in the muted light. Charon hissed his relief and put his hands back up, "it becomes uncomfortable after a short while..." he lamented gently, reaching toward his face, pale where the cheeks weren't flushed to wipe away some of the tear-crust forming freely on his face.

Mounting dread loomed over his shoulders and leaned against his back like a heavy shadow. Fleeing from it, he ventured a conversation, putting his hands down by his sides slowly and speaking, "as I said, the remnants of the drow taken to Eithel Barad are returning. I am currently serving them. I should be seen talking amiably with you; while you would have no trouble dispatching me, I wager, they are many and unhappy," he instructed carefully, adding in the same breath, peering at the floor then, "they cooperated closely during the battle with the Templar as well. Both while Theosebia controlled them both and in defense of the city, once that," he paused and looked carefully up at her, "mechromancer, so valiantly destroyed their tyrant. So you should not face any hostility -- well, you should not face any violence," he amended sardonically, giving a light sniff and digging a crumb of dried tears out of his left eye using his small finger.
 
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- Katulu Camp -
"Windshear, Morning, January 2, 601"

The woman gaped, staring at his tail, then peered closer at his face. Then she shut her mouth and did not say anything, determined to look at Charon as though he was an ordinary person. Though her brown eyes lit up at the mention of the Templars.

"So there are survivors from my company! Are they safe? Will you take me to them? Please?"

Sisyphus Happy Sisyphus Happy
 
- Isa Bianchi -

Should . . . Should he be honest about what he is? He should. He shouldn’t lie. It’s not like he would be able to move around. Though he can imagine that Uroburos is gonna have a shock of his life.

”You’re in a laboratory. Inside a tube, floating in liquid. . . And you’re a talking man-made heart inside a being of sorts . . . ya look like ya went through hell.” He replied gently, cringing a bit. His indigo eyes moved away from Uroburos, sad for the worn-out heart. Then he flinched at the sight of what was inside the other tubes.

“I . . . I think ya might have been an experiment of Zosimos because there are other tubes with other . . . deformed beings.” He took a few steps around the heart, his lips pinched as he tried his best to not be reminded of his mother’s death while staring at the test subjects that past away—- at the back, he paused before moving forward. Surprised to see rabbits of different sizes and forms. It was disturbing. Everything here is disturbing. He froze once more, staring at a specific tube. There was one that was empty. There was a tube that was empty and dry. It wasn’t broken either. So whoever that was here . . . Might have left peacefully-

There were notes scattered around. Some pasted on the tubes, others on the floor. He skimmed through the words, taking a deep breathe as he can already guess what Zosimos was trying to do with these subjects, with Uroburos. The parts that were taken from others, were given to Uroburos. This creature in the tube . . . Was made with the most perfect parts of each of these bodies that Zosimos tested on. The heart part, however, was crude compared to the body. Like someone else who had no idea how to create a heart made it. Then . . . He spotted a picture. Hesitant, Isa reached out to grab that photo from the tube, tugging it and hearing it peel off the glass.

“Granny Ester?” Isa muttered, his heart dropping at the implications of the elderly rabbit.

Zer0 Zer0
 
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- ? -

'Experiment . . . I think . . . I think I remember . . . We thought the ancients were coming in . . . I asked someone to take my heart out. I think there is a knob in front of me, next to the books . . . It was . . . red . . . Will you turn it to get me out? Will I die?' asked Uroburos.

Katsuya Katsuya
 
- Isa Bianchi -

Isa turned his head around, staring at the being that’s talking to him without moving his mouth inside the tube. He frowned. This is a created being, like Granny Ester. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to let him free or to press that button. It just seemed odd. Why would the Ancients take offense to a guy that wants to create a body?

Because that same guy tormented a lot of others in the process. Not caring of their thoughts or feelings about having their parts being ripped out of them. Because this same guy dares to create a life. Because this same guy wants immortality.

Howe er the creator and his creation are two different beings. Three, counting Ester.

The redhead thought on it, sighing as he remembered something. Didn’t Larc need a body? This is a body. However he didn’t know what to do. Uroburos is just a created soul who was born from a madman and a rabbit that knew about it then forgot. Twice.

“Imma wait. L knows medical stuff. Maybe she can take a look at ya first to see if ya are stable for me to press that button. Just in case.” Isa reasoned. He didn’t want to rush this. This might be Larc’s chance to have a separate body, but this is Uroburos’ body. He felt conflicted and prayed. He prayed to Loki for advice, for guidance. Something—-a hint as to what in Leor was this creature for in the first place, but he knew he wasn’t going to receive an answer. How did he know?

One, he needs to be asleep to receive Loki’s guidance And two, . . . Uroboros mentioned of the Ancients coming in. Meaning they had to use the same entrance as L and himself did. Isa pocketed the picture as he walked over to the pieced together body, sighing. Perhaps he grew too compassionate. Before he met Moss, he wouldn’t have cared and pressed that button without a second thought. But now that he wants to cherish his own life, he couldn’t help but think of other’s lives too. Even though Uroburos was created, he is still a life. The same can be said about Ester and Larc too.

”Why did ya want your heart taken out?” Isa asked, wanting to pass the time as Liliana and Larc get over here to see this.

Zer0 Zer0
 
- ? -

'Isa, my friend, please. I have been patient long enough. I have been in darkness for as long as I can remember!' said Uroburos impatiently, and Isa felt an odd wave pass over him. It felt like Theosebia. Ancient as she is, with that same kind of hatred for something that had made her twisted. 'I want to see! I need to feel alive again instead of wasting away for centuries, hopeless, not knowing if I will be more than just this!'

There was the sound of smooth sliding metal, and Isa saw, descending from above the platform with the hour glass. Liliana was peering from the cage in awe.

Katsuya Katsuya
 
- Isa Bianchi -

Feeling that odd wave raised his heckles. Isa snarled like a beast, baring his sharp teeth. When is he gonna have peace?! Why is it that every time he talks with people or beings, they always threaten him?! Or become angry?! What is this!? He has no patience for this! He had enough of fighting and arguing-

Isa ignored Uroboros’ impatient plea, watching Liliana come down. Taking deeeeeeeeeeep breathes as he crossed his arms. Liliana can see that his eyes narrowed and he was frowning deeply, obviously annoyed about something. So annoyed that he even sent her a leyline message as she came down.

”Liliana, Uroburos is inside of this tube and wants me to press the red button. Can ya take a look at him to make sure he’s healthy enough to even get out first.” When he emphasized ‘healthy’ (more like he growled) Isa glared at said tube. It’s like he wanted the soul inside to see why he was insisting that Liliana looked at him first. When she got closer to them, that’s when the redhead started talking. “He’s understandably impatient. . .” He growled quietly.

Zer0 Zer0
 
- ? -

The heart must have been taken aback because it went silent.

Liliana was looking around for him as the platform descended. "Isaaa --- oh! There you --- Whoaaa . . . You could never tell he looked like that by the way he spoke." The platform went past their floor. "Hold on! Just figuring out how this works!" She yelled reassuringly, standing on tippy toes to turn the dial of rings within the cage. The platform stopped, went up and down, until finally Liliana got a hang of it and hopped off at Isa's floor.

She was smiling when she came running up. "Hi, Uroburos!" Then she noticed Isa's annoyance. "Did you guys annoy each other? How do I start figuring out if he's healthy? Like, what's his normal vital signs range?" she said still in awe and a bit beffudled at this sudden task she was presented with. She was not familiar with this kind of creature.

"Hello? Uroburos? It's me, Liliana!" She tapped on the glass. Something must have passed between them, because her eyes widened. "Yes! It's me! Oh! That heart! That's you? Not the . . . uh . . . this body? That knob?" she pointed, moving around the front. "Okay, but I need to see if it's safe to do that, for all we know, this pickle juice is what's keeping you alive. Hold on, what else do you remember?"

And then Liliana asked Isa to help her find something that made a starry controls illusion appear just like the dais, though moments later she gave an, "I found it!", of triumph.

She must have pressed something because on the glass of the tube of the giant were illusory scripts that were not there before. All in the ancient language: heart rate, breathing rate, blood pressure . . . and then there were: Titan matrix, rune gauges for different organs, a line that went up and down beneath the label: galliemere singularity, and an illusion of a clock with seven hands and runes instead of numbers beneath another label: chronometrical gauge. A term Isa had learned before was what people in ancient times called clocks. And many more other medical data.

"He's more than healthy, Isa . . ." stared Liliana. "He's a weapon . . . "

Katsuya Katsuya
+8 to rolls | 20|20 Mp
Passive: Regenerates 1 Hp per round for each part.
Passive: Multicast. Can cast two spells at once.
Passive: Detect Magic

Uroburos Head
10/10 Hp
Toughness 20 | Spell Power 20

Uroburos Torso
10/10 Hp
Toughness 20 | Spell Power 20
Weakness: Heart

Uroburos Arms
10/10 Hp
Toughness 20 | Spell Power 20

Uroburos Legs
10/10 Hp
Toughness 20 | Spell Power 20
 
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- Isa Bianchi -

Isa appreciated the silence from Uroburos, taking deep breathes as he pretended to be in front of a fire. Imagining it flickering gently to breath in and out as Liliana finally figured out her way to this floor. When she asked, the redhead was honest but understanding towards the being inside the tube. His growl was gone when talking to the gnome healer. “He wants out and I am tired of people being angry at me. He might be in shock right now because I growled.”

He did sound like a demon just then, so he wouldn’t surprise if he startled Uroburos for the sudden noise.

Isa did help out of finding a Dias, only to hear Liliana exclaim “Ah-ha!” and he walked back to see the illusions on the glass. He won’t lie; he did let out a “That’s cool~” as he got closer to the tube. Information and medical data of the being inside. He translated words for Liliana to understand, including the Ancient and long way of calling clocks, clocks.

When Liliana said what he is, Isa took a deep breathe and sighed out long. Of course. Of course, he’s a weapon. But why would Zosimos create a weapon for? To kill the Ancients, he is guessing.

” . . . Okay? So what? As long he doesn’t murder anyone, I don’t see a problem here.” Isa said, leaning in closer as if he was trying to find something. “Think there’s a button to take some weapons off? Or to deactivate the weapons parts of Uroburos? If so, then it’s best to do that and then let him out. Oh! And to take off the controls the Dias over him too, if there are any.”

Was it strange that Isa didn’t really care that he was a weapon? He just wants to help Liliana and Larc with their wish- Wait!

Wish . . . Was . . . Was Uroburos the thing that people thought will make their wishes come true? But he was a weapon, what wish would he be able to grant? World conquest. The murder of Ancients. The destruction of other races that many hated- that’s the sort of wish Uroburos can grant. He doubted he could grant any of their wishes unless he lets Liliana study him as they travel to where Panacea existed.

”. . . We should keep his existence as a secret—or his identity. We can say that he’s spell-struck and it’s permanent, so he looks like this.” Isa suggested, forgetting that Liliana and Larc couldn’t read his mind.

Zer0 Zer0
 
new.jpg
- ? -

"So that's why you're both sullen." said Liliana understandingly. She placed her hand on the tube. "Uroburos, please be nice to Isa, okay? He's only trying to take care of you and that's no way to treat your friends."

Later, when they were looking at the illusory scripts, Liliana hummed, frowning. "I thiiiink not. Not like the way you take apart and clean Smoky sometimes. His body is the weapon and he's flesh . . . well, except for the bones . . . I think? . . ."

Isa did see though a rune to turn off the mechanisms of the tubes attached to the being that was keeping it's organs working, including a valve to shut off the heart.

When Isa made his suggestion, Liliana nodded. "Yeah, maybe we should lock the portal? If you can lock it without trapping us inside? Because anybody can just come in here just like we did --- I'm sorry." She looked up at the heart again. "I know, but even though we talked a lot, I still don't know you for real, for real, Uroburos. So we're just trying to be safe." the two seemed to continue having a conversation where Isa was excluded. "Yeah, but I've been sweet talked before and then betrayed. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Just . . . just give us some time to decide."

And then Isa felt that odd wave from the heart again and Liliana smacked the glass. "Don't. Don't do that. That felt weird. That felt like the Badlands . . . Okay, I forgive you. I'm going to go and try to find out more about you, okay? Maybe there's something here that can tell us who you are." and Liliana settled to investigating the scattered notes and diagrams in the chamber.

* * * *​

When Isa decided to search Zosimos' bedroom upstairs, he found himself before a pair of handsome lacquered wooden doors gilded in gold at the end of the ever spiraling staircase. The doors were half-open. It seemed Liliana forgot to close them properly in her haste to go down. There were two robed statues flanking either side and they were still as ornaments when Isa went in.

Zosimos' bedroom was cluttered yet classy. There were gears on the walls and many clocks labeled it seems from different places and even different realms. Steam lightly rose from the pipes in patterns, again decorative illusions, while candle light danced inside lanterns. There was a map in the middle of some continent in another realm that was unlike Leor. It was green instead of covered in frost, and on its legend was: Ásgardr. There were plots and notes here. About where to hunt aesir and valkyries. And Isa saw photos of the same kind of giant in the tube, although these were beautiful and fae looking, with wide horns, and elegantly clothed. They didn't have that warped face in the glass. Altered it seems to become Zosimos' perfect being.

There also a big black window glass of some sort in front of some couches. It was an odd machine made up of some material Isa had never seen before.

To the left of the room was a bed, still neatly made, next to wardrobes and a closed curtain where Isa saw through the small slit a twinkle of the starry sky and something glowing green. Something large. Like a crystal in the distance that he couldn't quite make out with the curtains closed.

There were desks near the bed and some odd machines, including one that looked almost like a metal ice cream on a stand next to a box that had a blinking green light on. An illusion of the main chamber outside flickered above the box, and looking at it, Isa had a view exactly like what Liliana would have seen when that illusion of her suddenly appeared against the wall outside.

Above the desk were shelves and Isa saw a collection of journals. Opening them, they seemed to be half-research, half diary entries where Isa caught a glimpse of what life was like 600 years ago including photographs of air ships, flying cities, and people with mechanical parts walking in suits and frilly dresses, and something about a genetic arms race, whatever the word genetics means. There were also a handful of tiny rectangular things inside an empty tin can with two holes in the middle next to a small rectangular box that had what familiarly looked like a speaking piece like the ones E.C.H.O devices had. The tiny rectangular things had date labels. There was also what looked like Isa's camera, but smaller, sleeker. It was a camera of sorts, but not unlike what he's seen in Leor.

What caught his eye though was the most worn out looking journal. It was clean, patched up neatly, as though it was well taken care of despite how old it was. Here Isa saw amateur diagrams, written ideas, theories, it seems from a younger Zosimos. It was familiar to Isa. It was like the orginal draft of the Cheirokmeta, though it was thicker with information on alchemy and spells he had never read in the published Cheirokmeta books that he had. It had a chapter that wasn't in his book. A chapter on Transcendance.

And it was here that he learned how through alchemy and magic, one can begin to become an Ancient.

One of its topics was immortality and of how to transfer the soul of a dying body into a younger, better one.

One of the steps is cutting your heart out.

And it was these notes that were found close to the end of the book. It was also where there were bloody hand and rabbit paw prints? And the frantic writing of another penmanship.

"My beloved, Zosimos, find me in my chamber. You must be confused. We have lost the war, but we will persevere and try again. Do not be surprised if a hundred years has passed since you closed your eyes in the plains of the Eldergate, for you were revived and I have placed you in the carceri to sleep until the wrath of the ancients have subsided. You are not alone, I have given instructions to put myself and the others in our carceri.
I have tasked Fontaine, Ester, and Hephaestus to take care of our sanctum.
When you awake, do not feel sad. We are still here. We will survive. And we will rebuild our home.
Yours forever,
Theosebia"

There was a moving photograph tucked within the last page of a couple sitting in their living room. The man was grey haired, but dashing in his suit, monocle, and well trimmed beard. The lady, young, probably in her early twenties, carrying herself with the kind of confidence you cannot fake. Red hair cascading down her shoulders, looking a bit pompously at the camera with her proud blue eyes.

Katsuya Katsuya
 
- Katulu Camp -
"Windshear, Morning, January 2, 601"

The woman gaped, staring at his tail, then peered closer at his face. Then she shut her mouth and did not say anything, determined to look at Charon as though he was an ordinary person. Though her brown eyes lit up at the mention of the Templars.

"So there are survivors from my company! Are they safe? Will you take me to them? Please?"

Sisyphus Happy Sisyphus Happy

Χάρων Health: Bruised | Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [6/14] Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

A nervous smile flashed for just a moment over his face when her reaction was what it was. His arms visibly tensed, the fur around his neck trembling for a moment, and he leaned back a little, as though wishing to step backward, but it seems he caught himself in time. In spite of the obvious flinch which just gripped his body, he let out his nervousness with a frantic chuckle and continued with gloomy glee, "well, I think so. The portal should continue to function, I think. They should have no qualms about returning you to the city," he reasoned aloud, though his face turned downward and, over the course of a few seconds, became extraordinarily anguished. His hand came up and lightly touched the side of his own face and ran slowly up to his hair, where he gripped it and held it there for a moment, his eyes becoming distant and his breath becoming heavy. The roof came down on him and his comrades once.

With wild eyes, he glanced up at her and then down, sighing heavily and doing his best to knead the tension away from his voice, though it didn't help much, he added hollowly, "many have died... in the recent days. I do hope you find someone to connect with. If--" he paused there -- evidently, against his will -- with a garbled 'ack', and reached up to his throat to find his hand trembling. He looked down at it with concern and closed it into a fist before returning it to his side, "hmn... many things have happened," he sighed with a morose grimace and left it there, gathering his hands into a ball at his front and holding them there. Perhaps he would refrain from having an outburst this time, he could hope Lysanthir forgets about his rudeness, but perhaps allowing many to see it is no good. His vision began to blur a little bit and he suddenly took a breath. He forgot to for a few moments there. With a shaking sigh, he stooped toward the ground and plopped down right where he stood, his tail scraping over the ground with a gravelly rasp and curling around his feet while he pressed his lips into his knees, his eyes wide and staring at the ground before him.
 
- Isa Bianchi -

As he listened to Liliana’s words, Isa stared at the illusionary runes, specifically the one to close the heart valve. Nothing against Uroborus and as much as he wouldn’t mind saving a soul, he did promise to Theosebia as she passed away. He promised to bring her love back to her after death somehow . . . And if Uroborus was Zosimos, then it’s best to shut out the heart-

There’s the newly founded guilt~

Arrrgh! Normally he wouldn’t care about this, ending a person’s life is nothing new. He’s done it a dozen times by now. Not that he enjoyed it either, ending a tired soul from it’s earthly chains after a demon’s hold on them is never fun to the redhead; however he used to be numb to it. Yet today . . . Today for some reason he felt bad for thinking about ending a guy’s soul-

The duality of his logic and emotions battled within him, finding both pros and cons in each side. Until the logic side won. Zosimos already lived his life once and slept this entire time until they finally found him in a six ton jar. He needs to rest for real after suffering so much from the Ancients’ wrath-

Isa huffed, making his silent choice. Liliana and Larc is still living their lives. Uroburos needs to go. The redhead leaned back a bit, listening to Liliana’s words and chat towards Uroborus. Then he felt that threatening aura again. He was starting to snarl when suddenly he heard flesh hitting glass. He looked at the source of the sound and took deep breathes as she lectured him. Yeah, Uroborus needs to go.

It’s for the best.

——-

Isa left to investigate the rooms and inside of Zosimos’ bedroom room, he found all sorts of books and unusual stuff in the room. Theories and scientific methods with discoveries galore. He was starry-eyed from all this information he read and- He found Zosimos’ journals. The original draft for the Cheirokmeta with hints Zosimos’ feelings. His thoughts. It was fascinating to read this as a history nerd.

That is, until he reach the last chapter. A chapter he has never found in his copy of Cheirokmeta. “Transcendence.“ Isa read, his eyes following every word on the old and yellowing pages. Amazed by it. They can change souls . . . The problem is that the body has to be dying . . . Liliana has one body that Larc is stuck inside. The dying body is more on Uroborus’ side—-

Isa froze on a page. Taken aback from the dried blood on the page before his eyes followed the cursive letters. Then he sighed out, covering his eyes. It’s so strange to see Theosebia as more than a monster. Physically speaking, of course. He knew that she was born human, but to see her actual human form in this picture, all happy and prideful. He didn’t even think on the similar color of hair she has or how her blue eyes were as deep as his own; all he thought was ‘Zosimos is going back to ya soon, Theosebia.’

Why would he care about keeping his promise to her? Well he understands where Theosebia is coming from, wanting to save her love one from pain. Of course he understood her desperate attempts because he would do them too when pushed off the edge of sanity.

He can already guess who’s paw prints those were. Granny Ester’s. She must seen this book at least once before and placed the heart inside the body. He didn’t see any other rabbit tube without a rabbit inside. So the other two Theosebia mentioned might have passed away or escaped this place as well.

”Liliana. Can ya come up here please? I found something interesting.” Isa knew he was right. After all . . . For what other reason would Theosebia leave a note for Zosimos if it’s only Uroburos in here? Uroburos is Zosimos.

Zer0 Zer0
 
- ? -

Isa heard Liliana gasp and then yell, "NO! STOP!" in both his head and echoing from the illusion of the chamber on top of the box machine on the desk. There was a great wrenching metallic screech and then the crash of glass from the illusion. And then Liliana's voice wailed inside Isa's head. "Why did you do that?! No, no, no, don't die! Why did you do that?! ISAAAAA! ISAAAAA! Uroburos is dying I need your help!"

Arriving at the laboratory, Isa would see the tube fallen, a pool of green liquid spreading across the floor, glass shattered everywhere, the giant body limp and twitching within the tube, Liliana on top of the heart pushing on it, trying to resuscitate it. She was crying when she looked up at Isa. "He didn't stop . . . I didn't mean to. He was replacing me in my head. Please fix the tube somehow! I --- I think this has to be reconnected or something!" she gestured at the tubes that had been wrenched off and was now just seeping liquid.

Katsuya Katsuya


- Katulu Camp -
" Windshear, Morning, January 2, 601"

"I would have imagined so . . ." said the lady grimly when Charon said many things had happened. She quietly watched him for a moment. "Well, I'll go ahead then." she said solemnly. And stepped off out into the snowy morning.

Almost half an hour later, Lysanthir's voice spoke in his head. 'Master Charon, we're in the camp and have met a survivor who told us about you. Come back, our enemies have fled.'

Only a small party had arrived in the mines, but in the distance from the direction of the portal, Charon saw lines of more drows rappelling down the ravine, carefully lowering down supplies and what seemed to be their dead wrapped in cloth. Lysanthir was standing atop a frosted rusty machine, talking and giving instructions to a handful of others. Charon saw that lady drow he saw earlier gather up two female warriors and jog towards the ruin over the bridge.

"We'll be going underground back home and see what remains of it today." said Lysanthir to Charon after the others briskly left and got to doing their instructions. He leaped down, boots crunching on the snow. "Thank you for coming with us and helping us, Master Charon." he bowed. "I hope this alleviates the guilt you feel, and gives you peace, however small."

Sisyphus Happy Sisyphus Happy
 
Χάρων Health: Bruised | Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [6/14] Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

Charon said nothing in reply and glanced at her retreating form. Silence closed in again and he closed his eyes to take it in, a deep and even sigh departing from his form and forming fog in the frosty air. It made room for a lethargy which weighed him down in the spot, his eyes became heavy, his limbs slackened, he trailed there on the edge of sleep until Lysanthir's message came through. Shaken awake by the noise, his bleary eyes opened and focused on the dark environment, they became more accustomed to it and the bumpy rock revealed to him more of its little divets, and the wall of gloomy but strengthening light hurt his eyes. It seemed in that moment, so empty was his mind, that his thoughts became the wind and as it filled his mind like it did the frozen land, his body was as the cave. Cold, still, filled with the memories of unkind horrors. The sounds of wind were not sufficient replies to the message, however.

"She is very stinky. I will walk... Today is a nice day for it," was his wistful reply. He did so, passing the creaking bride which weathered the weather well and carried his weight as faithfully as the first time. His heart leapt a little when a strong wind caused it to sway a little but he found the other side without danger. Charon stepped aside once he crossed and gave a shallow bow to the group crossing first, then, farther along, to the woman he spoke to. Frankly, he has forgotten her name. In time, through the sheer and severe landscape, he encountered the ravine and its spelunkers, eventually taking a winding path secluded by a bank of snow and a few boulders. Throughout the walk he had his head down and held a vacant expression. His trudging steps dragged long and thin ditches in the snow side by side. Evidently, he placed his tail back under wraps before most of the journey was finished. His breath was carried away by the same wind which stung his face. Yet another mirror; throughout the trip he tried to fill his mind with -- something. Anything, other than a loud silence, like nothingness. He felt as though looking inward was like trying to decipher a painting covered in sand. A grainy soreness in his mind slowed him. Thoughts came and went like water through a sieve, only sometimes catching a shard of introspection, which would pass quickly. Many times, if he were traveling east or west, the sun's rising and setting respectively would capture him in a similar manner. As though a spell were cast on him, the gentle trickle of water on all sides, the gentle hush of wind sweeping the trees, an incantation which would keep him at the layered end of the day. Horizon's foundation of orange supporting the vivid blue and creamy purple until it all turned into black diamond dust. All the colors and shifting thereof infiltrated him, his arms and chest, with wonder.

"Crunch... Shffff, crunch... Shfff," he trudged through the white and grey crags, wind sifting through the snow frantically, with angry fingers and greedy eyes pining his bones. This arrest of the mind was not wonder, but some kind of torture. Before he realized it, the looming machine filled his vision and Lysanthir addressed him. To his words, he finally paid attention, and the response did little to fill the dearth of thought, but a wan smile took his face, he nearly reached down to prevent Lysanthir from bowing but stayed his hand, the appendage hovering awkwardly for just a moment before he retracted it and measured his response carefully.

"Peace?" he repeated wistfully, turning his head to the side and searching the ground, "I'm afraid not, no... though, it is not guilt, perhaps, that lingers. Regrettably, I have learned only that it is neither peace no grief which I possess," he blinked some snow from his eyes and shook his head, placing his hands behind his back and assuming a square, respectful posture, though his face seemed to begin to crumble into something like anger while he reflected on his realization, "Is it even permissible, do you suppose, to be so delicate?" he sneered, gripping the front of his cloak tightly, twisting it and pulling it closer around him, gripping the fabric as though to hurt it, "that... merely seeing death... caused by one's own hand, and having been destroyed so easily by some creature," he exhaled forcefully and his face contorted into disdain.

"No, I have some guilt, but it does not haunt me so... for I know that though you forgive me, those whose lives I have destroyed shall not, perhaps, have a say. That is alright... or maybe it isn't, I cannot say. In any case, it is not guilt. Lysanthir, my mind," he breathed with sorrow, "my mind is... odd. I cannot... the world does not..." he inhaled to form more words but his mouth closed and he squinted and shook his head, gently bumping his forehead with the heel of his palm and resting it there for a few moments before releasing the held breath with an intense hiss and holding his face in his hand for a moment, "memory... does not come to me as easily. Knowledge does not coalesce readily," he eventually squeezed out, "I need... rest. Or to quit this nonsense," he sighed, ending his dramatic grief with a quiet chuckle, itching the side of his nose with his finger and then rubbing it along his lips to return some feeling to them and looking between the snow and Lysanthir awkwardly.
 
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- Katulu Camp -
" Windshear, Morning, January 2, 601"

Lysanthir looked puzzled, as though he was trying to understand Charon after thinking he thought he knew him or what drove him, before something like patient acceptance that he doesn't understand him crossed his expression through a sigh.

"I had hoped our parting would be a pleasant one." he clasped his hands behind his back and the polite expression came back. "Go on, Master Charon, rest. And if you can still bear to be a part of this nonsense," he added coldly, waving a hand at his people, before continuing in a much gentler tone, " if you or your friends need aid in any way, do not hesitate to send me a message. You will always be welcome in our den. A na eithel lotesse i' giliath gude lle." he inclined his head. He looked at Charon for a moment longer, then turned around and then walked away.

Sisyphus Happy Sisyphus Happy
Charon +1 Rp point
 
- Isa Bianchi -

As soon he heard her gasp, Isa snapped his head around and ran out of the room. Heading straight to where she is: Uroburos’ room. He ran past all the rooms he explored and towards the edge of the long drop. Leaping forward and falling without fear of dying, but fear of what’s happening to Liliana as he listened to her urgent and frantic words. His body burned away midair, feeling as if he was floating-
—— and landed in Uroborus’ room.

He ran over to Liliana’s side and sucked in his breathe. Frozen as he felt liquid seeping into his clothes. A body crumped in front of him. Screams of horror ringing in his ear. Once again, flashbacks of his past haunted him- Not now!!!

Indigo eyes quickly looked inside the tube and the scene of Uroborus’ body twitching violently. His mind racing as he was about to hug the tube, put it back up again to re-attach the tube before he froze again. He still has the book, Zosimos’ journal. He held it tightly, that his hand is cramping, and didn’t notice it in his fear of Liliana getting hurt-

Now that he thought on it—

“Let him die.” Isa said calmly, slowly dropping his arms back to his side as he watched Uroborus die. Red hair veiling his eyes as he frowned. “We should ease his pain away as he passes.”

Zer0 Zer0
 
Χάρων Health: Bruised | Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [6/14] Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 2


His mouth dropped open, he could hardly have moved, stunned by the drow's words. He gasped, shouting, "no!" indignantly, as though commanding a puppy to abstain from chewing on his shoe, "no!" he shouted in a more commanding tone, continuing, "You do -- that is not the meaning of my words! Ly--" he stumbled forward and reached for Lysanthir's shoulder with utter determination, "I will, I will visit, I did not mean that, I meant conflict! Do you know wha-- that kindly refugee you found, she choked me! If I did not take the form of a great beast, she would have crushed my throat -- and wait! You just wait there! It was a pleasure to assist the camp! In the beginning I thought it was a matter of debt, but then it felt right! I had fun! There are such wonderful minds here! Such wonderful people, such that I have never met before, and who conducted themselves with such grace, I am entranced by House Evindal! I wish to stay!" he cried into the booming wind, almost belligerent at this point. His face was flushed with anger, his teeth were grit, his eyes were wide and his hair was flailing wildly in the wind, the hood fell away.

"Yet I know I do not belong," he lamented, "I am a beast and I conduct myself as an oaf! I know I do, even now;" he paused, out of breath in the cold wind, but drew a couple of gasps and forced himself to continue raw, "I could feel every time I, like a drunken ploughmaster driving a blind mule, crashed through every proverbial fence in the realm, tracking dung," he chuckled with some pain evident in his tone, "I wanted to stay damn it all!" he moaned, throwing his hands to the side, "but my mind is broken, Lysanthir! I died! I killed! Do you know it? That void between life and death? That eternal moment before your soul materializes on the other side? It is so, so lonely, and cold beyond cold. I can remember it. I was gone, for just a moment, there was nothing, I was so scared..." he shuddered, recalling the occurrence, "and regret, oh, gods, regret, of course I am plagued by it! I dream of the crushed bodies and their bloated eyes stare at me still! Every time I close my eyes, they are there, waiting for me; Lysanthir," he finished, doing his best to clutch onto the elf in spite of the impropriety of it all, but let go if need be, "I am still dead," he sighed, shaking his head, "I am still dead, I must find solace somewhere, it must be out there; do we live in such a world, in which I will never find rest until I die; I am even too coward to die. Every time I think of it, drowning, the slit wrists, I must reach that moment again... I can't go there again," he sighed, "that is the nonsense. Every thing which bares its fangs at me stokes such deep and tender horror, I might not survive it, you must understand," he pleaded, staring at the snow, "I might for some time enjoy House Evindal more than my own home," he emphasized in a bewildered manner, throwing his hands up as though giving up on a difficult problem.

"So," he huffed, mumbling whether or not Lysanthir remained in his presence for him to finish his complaining, "I must go. I will return when I have conquered this... or I shall meet you again before I die properly," he said finally, shrugging as though it were out of his hands, a command from above. He stood there breathing, his hands on his hips to catch his breath, burping quietly, "hooo..."
 
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- Katulu Camp -
" Windshear, Morning, January 2, 601"

Lysanthir turned around, then took a step back, hands still clasped behind his back, one eyebrow raising when Charon attempted to touch his shoulder. But he was listening, and the more Charon spoke, the more Lysanthir's polite expression gave way to his less polite and more earnest one. And when Charon said he wanted to stay, his stiff shoulders relaxed.

"Don't." he suddenly said quietly, though not unkindly, stepping back again when Charon tried to clutch.

When his friend had finished talking Lysanthir searched his expression. "I am not trying to make you stay if you do not wish, Master Charon." he said slowly. "Forgive me, I misunderstood your words." he inclined his head. And then looked thoughtfully at the lightly falling snow for a moment. "I will not lie, I do not understand what you are going through, but I do find . . . it irritating," he continued gently, " that when I open the door to give you comfort, you prevent yourself from going in because you cannot forgive yourself and think I see you the way you see yourself." He lifted his palm up to a drow ways away who was walking up to him, probably to report on something. He turned back to Charon. "Perhaps it can't be helped since we have the faces of the fallen, but I do hope that one day you will let yourself in, because the door is open and you are very much welcome, and there is no one barring the way except you, Charon."

More drows started coming up from the supply lines, and Lysanthir held up his palm to all of them, keeping them at a distance. Some were looking at the anguished Charon with curious expressions.

"But I do hope you find your solace enough to visit. The crystal caverns beneath Windshear are beautiful to behold. And . . . I forbid you to visit if afterwards you are simply going to go and die properly. Imagine how I would feel." he shook his head. "You may only visit House Evindal if you plan to build a happy and peaceful life, Master Charon. Now go, have your rest."

And he gestured at the waiting drows to come forward.

Sisyphus Happy Sisyphus Happy


- ? -

"No." said Liliana firmly. "It's stupid I know, he's not really my friend, but I need him for Larc. He's the only good lead I have for Larc." she gave up resuscitation and pulled her spell book out of her hair, flipping the pages frantically

Katsuya Katsuya
 
- Isa Bianchi -

“I have this.” Isa simply placed Zosimos’ book on top of L’s Grimore. “There’s a chapter specifically for putting a soul in a body.”

He’s not even trying to scold her for being too nice-

Zer0 Zer0
 
- ? -

Liliana stared at the book and Isa saw in her rapidly blinking eyes the war between doing what was right or being safe, all with guilt in between. It reminded one of the many long hours she spent cloistered in the ladies' room talking to Uroburos.

'No . . . Please . . . I'm sorry, please . . .' came the heart's weak thoughts. Liliana didn't say anything as Uroburos continued to plead with them, saying he thought they weren't going to let him out if they found out who he was. What his research was for. Maybe condemn him to a life of nothing. He couldn't stand more of this kind of existence.

The seconds stretched, Liliana quiet, still in the throes of indecision, as the heart's beats slowed. Then, very quietly, she rubbed the heart. "Uroburos, do you have any last request?"

There was a final silence. 'In . . . in the tower next to mine in the Sanctum is my beloved . . . Theosebia. I do not know what happened to her during the war. But if she survived, she would be there . . . in a body like mine . . . please take care of her . . . at the least . . . be kind and merciful . . . she isn't like me . . . she's soft spoken and good . . . '

And then the heart did not beat again.

Katsuya Katsuya
 
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- Isa Bianchi -

As Liliana stared at the book, indigo eyes looked at the weakening heart, hearing his pleas. Isa frowned softly, filled with resolve and sadness. “We could care less of who ya are or what ya do. We all have sinned here. What I cannot let ya do, is harm my friend who was kind towards ya this entire time.” He sighed out.

He stayed silent as Liliana made her choice and took a deep breathe, listening to his words. The redhead wanted to say something, but had a better idea. Just as the heart his last beat, Isa opened his mouth, and cupped his hands together as if he was about to gather water. A soft lyric echoed in the room, golden orbs slowly surrounded them as streams of golden light flowed beautifully in it’s undulating. A white dog with feathery fur appeared behind the redhead. Red eyes glaring at the heart before he sighed and shook his head, opening his mouth to bite something and pulled—

Someone. A woman with red hair and deep blue eyes was pulled out from the streams of few golden orbs, confused as she blinked her eyes open. Yanxin helped her stand up, nudging her a bit in Zosimos’ direction as a familiar orb floated out of the deformed body. That very orb grew bigger until it took Zosimos’ original human form. Isa kept his promise; Theosebia is back together with her love now.

Zer0 Zer0
 
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Χάρων Health: Bruised | Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [6/14] Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 2

"Buuuh," he moaned plaintively, his eyes becoming wide and watery, "that's not entirely correct but thank you," he lilted back, folding his hands as if to pray and pressing the two touching knuckles of his index fingers to, his mouth and pushed his lower lip out to hold back the frown, smile and sob fighting for a place on his face simultaneously. With a fortifying sniff, he took a few steps away while waving in a frankly embarrassing manner while wiping his eyes and mumbling about how Lysanthir is so cold and supportive at the same time. In this blubbering manner, Charon allowed the conversation to end and trudged up the hill toward the portal and peering up at the wall of black with trepidation. Then, without further adieu, he closed his eyes, scrunched up his face, and strode forward purposefully, his head pointed toward his direction of travel.

Staring up at the fabric of his tent, his right arm behind his head, his left arm kneading Nava's fur, he sighed audibly and closed his eyes. A din reached him which made his brain feel squeezed. Though he was only in that blasting wind for a couple of hours at the very most, its constant roar had penetrated him. Here in the desert, where the wind was gentle and kind most of the time, and the noise filtering in from the streets of shouting and a gently undulating fog of many people talking, which swelled and grew, from nearly no sound at all to the same volume as the gentle wind sifting through the ruins, and the gentle trick of loose sand accompanying every breath the world takes here. There were gaps of great silence which seemed louder to him than that wind and gave his head a strange feeling. Blinking awake for the ninth time at least, he sighed and took his hand off of Nava, scratching through the air in a frustrated manner. His sight of the tent distorted a little while a red film emanated from his palm and the image rippled as though seen from beneath a pool of rosewater. He hesitated for a moment and bit his thumb, hoping faintly that message did not send such a noise, before speaking carefully and with a formal but sorrowful tone.

"Please forgive me. I acted petulantly. I apologize, for being labile and for attempting to touch you -- it's a human thing. What time of day is best for conversing?"
 
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