Shintheory Role-Playing
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| Prologue. Pride Comes Before the Fall. | |
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Pennywise Mystic Elder
Rep! : 26 Location : Behind you
| Subject: Prologue. Pride Comes Before the Fall. Tue May 17, 2011 3:29 pm | |
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Last edited by Jack on Thu May 19, 2011 12:21 pm; edited 1 time in total | |
| | | Pennywise Mystic Elder
Rep! : 26 Location : Behind you
| Subject: Re: Prologue. Pride Comes Before the Fall. Wed May 18, 2011 12:49 pm | |
| VI
The second reason for him not wanting to return to the human world, and probably the main one, the initial being little more than a cover story. In his first year of awakening Jack had spent his time with a woman. She wasn't quite human, that much he was able to tell with his time spent there. They'd had. A relationship. Of sorts. The two had woke up together and had little company bar one another, a mutual use of feelings to keep the loss and confusion of having no memories at bay. To know someone anyone. But after that year. He'd left, hadn't said a word to her. After all. What could he say? " I need to go home and find out the truth?". He knew she never would have accepted that. Telling her would have been too much. Or at least he thought so back then. Worst of all things was that this woman was actually dangerous, and he didn't doubt for a minute that she'd taken up arms against opposing demons as well. Being spiritually aware being only one of her talents. Not for a second did he doubt she would want to stick a sword into his back. Not that doing such a thing would give her much relief. Nor would she get the chance. It wasn't that Jack had any jibes about defending himself from her, or indeed injuring her. But killing her? Outright ending it all? That’s where he hesitated. It was a weakness that he could never reveal to Jowan or the other demons of pride. His own pride after all couldn't take the shame of such a weakness. Killing her would mean cutting ties to a vital piece of that mystery. The dawn, it could have just been a coincidence that the two had awakened so close to one another and in such a way. But he didn't really believe in such things. They were in the same building at the same time lying next to one another. That and he'd felt unnaturally comfortable around her. It hadn't really been something he'd noticed in the time he'd spent there with just her as company, but he had noticed it when he left and began interacting with others. He'd never felt as comfortable around them as he had around her. Never let his guard down as much. Perhaps that was in the end just another excuse for him to end her. To get rid of that lasting weakness. But he couldn't. So he avoided that situation like the plague. That night old wounds got brought to the surface along with fresh ones. He was standing in the seat of pride by himself. The light of the moon flowing down onto him through the crack in the ceiling. He looked up. So many questions. And no answers. He breathed out, and his breath misted in front of his face. Suspicious. It wasn't cold. So then why? He turned around, his shadow stretched unnaturally against the floor. But then. It wasn't his shadow. It was the figure of a female. For a moment he thought it was her. But as the figure turned as if to face him, the body was more slender, younger. It looked more like. Ceila. His eyes slanted. As the voice of the demons echoed around the air. " Let me tell you little man, this dream is more real than you, or I....In the eyes of a sleeping god we men are naught but dreams and nightmares, little things to keep them occupied until they awaken".
Hands struck up from within his shadow. As if it was naught but a pool of darkness, dragging itself up, a figure with a feminine shape, the mouth however was empty, see through almost as if the figure itself was two dimensional. But it clearly wasn't. In its left hand, a large sword. Ridiculously large in comparison to the size of the body of the figure wielding it. Much like the figure it was made of this darkness, a sludge like vicious liquid that oozed off the body. " Dreams". An ethereal voice, multitoned and warped. It had Ceila's ring to it, but was undeniably different. He had heard of things like this happening sometimes. Powerful demons who died, leaving their marks on reality. Little more than fading memories. Linger emotions of those left behind. Its intent was clear by the sword. Thus, his own was decided for him. He took his cane and pulled out the sword blade, keeping the sheath in his left hand whilst holding the sword with the right. " I do not regret your death, nor would I have taken actions to stop it". He pointed his sword at the shade of Ceila. " I only regret that your goal was left unfulfilled before you were slain, perhaps I can provide this piece of you with a more honourable demise". She spoke one word before attacking nightmare. Swinging that sword, it was fast considering the size of the sword, but still sluggish enough to allow him to duck down below it to prevent the thing beheading him. That sludge like substance dripped off the blade though and onto his shoulder. He heard a hissing sound and noticed that it was beginning to burn away at his clothing. Swiftly he abandoned his jacket, the fight just got slightly more interesting. Launching forward he swooped in with a vicious slash to what would have been the area in her neck at which the coronary artery was located. The cut made an impact, but it slopped in and healed itself up almost immediately. Turning around and swinging that blade like a pengilum in a low arc. He dived to the left, rolling over the blade on the ground. Once again he jumped in and stabbed through the shade of Ceila. Pulling out the sword and stabbing it again multiple times. Wasn't even a flinch as a response. Just that see through grin. He ripped the sword out from the side but once again. It merely filled in with the darkness. Leaving his brutal efforts unrewarded by death. Clearly this was not going to be as simple as just stabbing and slashing it to death. Of course, it rarely ever was. He'd made a mistake, he'd gotten too close. Couldn't help but think that was the irony of everything.
That he kept making that mistake. Getting too close. Her hand grasped at his throat, winning its prize and taking a hold. Again with the sword, her strength was far greater than the frame indicated, crushing away at his wind pipe as he was left flailing in the air trying to escape. What he didn't quite notice until a few moments in however was that although the drip from the sword had burned through his clothes earlier. Right now it wasn't effecting his skin. He didn't feel any kind of burning sensation. But why? He looked down, now unafraid to grasp at the hand around his neck. Through his own pulling he loosened the grip, but still not quite able to break it. There was a laugh again in that multi tonal voice. She spoke the words. " they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die-e-e-e ( stuttering, as if on a broken record player) if I die, I’ll rem-em-em-ember". . It was sad, tragic almost. The memory of these spirits very rarely appeared in hell. Mostly it was the human world. Wild angry confused spirits the mediums called them. And that was ultimately true, although Ceila was mad in person. This haunted memory of her was wild. Something seeking release. Enough strength in his hands, he swung upwards. Separating the arm of the dark creature from the forearm downwards. Dropping him to the ground, the way it appeared, the moment he separated the arm from the body it burst into smoke and dust, But as he looked up, a new arm formed on the beast. It wasn't going to be so easy to take this one down. What was it that was different between the two situations, he had to think about it. Slowly circling her, side step by side step. She however seemed to be constantly following him, but didn't move like a porcelain dol. Eyes constantly on him no matter where he was. There were two options that he could see, that the sword was somehow different from her direct touch despite being made of the same material and or substance. Or, there was something in between there. That it could burn through his clothes but for some reason not his skin.
But what was the reason for it? The first one made little sense, other than perhaps it was done so based upon offensive capability. The latter he couldn't figure out either, what really was the difference between himself and his clothes that it would burn through his jacket but not his skin. Then it hit him. Oni were naturally resistant to the effects of cursing. Perhaps this touch of the black ooze was some kind of dark cursing agent. A poison that didn't effect Oni directly, but effected everything else. Like his clothes it would burn through them but not his skin. Of course the best option on this point was to take off all his clothes and fight naked. But somehow he didn't feel quite right about that. Call it a gentleman’s instinct when fighting a lady not to expose himself in front of her. Although that really wasn’t much of an issue, not as if she really could notice what he was wearing or not. He doubted that she even knew who she was attacking. Creatures like this rarely ever did know these things, It was really just whatever was in front of them at the time, lashing out, expending that energy and emotion until they were cut down excursed or simply just faded away into nothingness. But that did raise a question. Why was it his shadow that this thing had chosen to emerge from. Was it because he had been the one connected to her dream? Or had he had some lasting effect on her? Or was it just because he had been here t the wrong time. The seat of pride. The place of Jowan's glory. The place where her killer had returned to after doing the deed. An angry spirit haunting the living place of her killer. Seemed far to cliché. Besides. Shades weren’t really spirits, just the remnants of them. After all, he, Jowan, and Ceila in the first place were all originally spirits. Beginning to ask what happened to them after death in this unlife was opening up doors to confusing non answers far beyond that of the dawn. Answers that he imagined wouldn't ever be answered, questions that would have been posed long before any of them could remember. Which wasn't saying much, considering the furthest back anyone had memory of was twenty years. It had to be something to do with the nature of an Oni, the way to defeat this creature. The cursed dark power that lay within them all. It had to be the key to inflicinting a perment wound on this creature without it healing up. In his hand he grasped his sword, and channelled his power into it. There was power in the blood. Using the power of his dark energy as an Oni, and his own blood he could place a ritual curse on his blade, if his theory was right then this might be able to help as far as inflicting damage on the creature, just how much it would help was unknown to him but he was just hoping that this shade didn't carry with it the natural resistance to curses that Oni normally had, and that Ceila would certainly have had in life. He launched into another attack, the blood smeared sword slicing down the lower abdomen of the creature, this time, smoke rose from both the wound and the sword, the black ooze remaining on the sword from the slash began to bubble and hiss away like boiling water. It was just like the effect the curse of whatever darkness shrew as made of had upon his clothes.
Boiling and burning. Until it all faded away into nothingness. He would give himself a brief moment of congratulations as the attack went through and the wound remained open, but the creature didn't flinch, it didn't even let out a cry of pain. In fact it was as if it hadn't even registered that any damage had been done to its body at all. He didn't know if this was just an effect carried on by Ceila being a lord of madness, or if it was just because this creature was so far detached from reality that it no longer followed the regular laws of pain and life. Death after death, it made sense that it would feel nothing. For such a creature didn't truly live. It attempted a counter attack, this time raising that giant sword far above its head and bringing it down with both hands, such an action would have likely chopped him in two. The momentum more than made up for the lack of speed, dodging wasn't an option, her height as opposed to his made it so that the blade didn't have far to travel as it moved down, all he could do was raise up his sword and attempt to block using his own. As impossible as the feat sounded, he somehow actually managed to pull it off, the flat of his sword meeting the edge of the giant blade, however the force, weight and momentum behind the strike was enough to push him backwards , only thing was that he didn't stop moving backwards. He just kept going, The shade was rushing forward, pushing one blade against the next and entering them into a contest of strength. Luckily for him, he'd already trained himself to deal with such occasions. In fact his style of sword play was based around With a quick flick of the wrist the blade would change angle, now allowing the opponents sword to move down and off his blade using gravity to his advantage. The opponents own strength driving them forward and off balance. Sure enough, down to the side she went, sliding off the blade and crashing into the ground with some impact. Slid off balance as he slipped around to the left, raised up his own sword and. Cut off her ever loving head. The decapitated head bounced across the ground a coupe of times, unlike the arm it just kind of....sat there. The body itself didn't move. Until. Swing, the sword came flying back up as the headless body attempted to return the favour, thankfully his word was in the right position to block the blow. But the strength of it was enough to knock him off to the side and take the wind right out of him. He was on the ground but it seemed that was the last attack that would be coming from this thing. A delayed reaction, the creature dropped to its knees. The head's mouth moved. "I see ou kept your promise" And then, both body and head, burst into purple flames. The burning intense and bright. And then it was done. Leaving little more than a mild burn mark on the floor. And a deepening crevice in Jack's soul.
VII Telling Jowan about what happened wouldn't do any good, rather t would only raise suspicions about just why the creature had popped out of his shadow. The answer to that, he didn't quite know. But things seemed to be alright. When he had a meeting with Jowan in the seat of pride in the morning the oni lord hadn't seemed to notice the burn mark on the floor where the shade of Ceila had burned away. Ultimately whether or not he had mentioned anything about the mark, he probably had seen it and probably suspected something had happened, the demon was smarter than that to just not notice something. Perhaps he thought it was an accident. Perhaps he was making himself more suspicious by not saying anything at all. But then, there were a few of them within this group, it didn't just have to be him that knew about it. Regardless, it wasn't brought up. The only things that were discussed were the movements of the demons of lust and rage, they too had formed into their own clans and tribes living among one another much like the Pride demons did. Demons of desire oddly were more isolated than the demons of rage. But then again, it always was said that love and lust were greedy, and didn't like sharing. No doubt that the embodiment of such a thing would also share a similar intendum. The demons of rage were as expected far more violent. Leaving a bloody streak a mile wide wherever they went, at least that’s what the reports said, concentrated killings within areas that they frequented numbers spelt things out far better than words. The Lords of Madness, not much had been heard from them, more than likely due to Jowans kill on sight policy concerning them. They were mad, but not suicidal.
"Last job jack before I send you on your way to the human world".
Jack looked up at Jowan, tired. he had expected something from the demon, he never called him in without reason and rarely ever discussed the other types of demons with him, or shared any of the information he had on them unless it was completely necessary. Which it seemed to be. " So then". Jack said impatiently waiting for Jowan to spill the beans about this " job" already. " Just what is it that you want me to do?". Jowan let out a happy sigh. " Ah Jack, I love it when you say it like that, what would you have me do, what do you want me to do...no conditions you just o ahead and take care of things, that’s why you are my go to man and not one of the others...they aren’t all dumb, but few are reliable...". That hadn't answered his question. Crossing his arms he made this clear, noting Jowan's avoidance techniques. Almost as if he was trying to delay telling him about this. " You didn't answer my question Jowan, what do you want me to do?". The demon shifted in the chair lightly. " I want you to understand that by telling you this and letting you take are of it for me, that I'm putting a lot of trust in you...I can't have anyone else deal with this and I'm in too dangerous a position to leave the seat of pride at the moment, there fore the task lies to you". Again, no answer. " Spit it out already". Said Jack impatiently. Jowan was taken aback by this slightly. But did as he was bade. " You see several years ago I went to the human realm and well I met a woman there....we did what we did and out of that one night....a child was conceived". He grumbled, Jack meanwhile was holding back laughter. Jowan, the demon who had taught him to use the weakness of humans himself indulged in a little rutting with one. How a amusing to know that Jowan was guilty of the same sin he had. Thankfully no child had ever been conceived with his partner. Well...that he knew of. That brought up a very scary point. Just what if- No he couldn't think about it. At least not now anywise. " And? what the issue with you doing that with a human other than the obvious embarrassment?". Jowan frowned, obviously he didn't like being mocked, but then again if he ever found out about Jacks little time then he'd likely receive the same right back. Still first hit rules were his now. And he grinned about it. " The desire demons somehow found out about this, their leader and I have never quite seen eye to eye, and now as far as I'm aware she’s planning on killing the child and its mother". Jack was, stunned. To say the least. This mission was one of protection? It was odd imagining Jowan as anything other than a destroyer, to imagine that he had a bastard child somewhere was, quite amusing. " So let me get this straight, you want me to kill my way through a clan of demons just to save your bastard child and bit on the side?". Jowan once again, frowned. " That’s not how it is". Jack grinned. " I think that’s just how it is...regardless. Its your order, I'll do it, just make sure there are some good drinks when I et back". Jack turned his back on the Onilord and walked right out of the room down the dark corridor of the seat of pride. All the way down he felt Jowan s dagger like eyes on the back of him. Jack knew he had stepped over the line from joking to not. But then in doing so he'd probably gain more gratitude from the onilord in the end. Which meant more for him, he could probably get closer in that circle. Get further up the chain of power within the Lords of Pride, and ultimately within hell itself.
On his way out he was passed by one of his kin. A female pride demon by the name of Elisha. Daggers on his front, daggers on his back. The girl had never liked him, his walking stick clicking away with each step he took. She glared at him. Elisha had been one of the first demons of Pride to join Jowan, and was one of his most trusted allies. Unfortunately for Wiseman, she also hated his guts. She was a big believer in Jowans plan, that they all needed to stick together. And was sickened by the fact he had chosen to not come with them when the call had first went out. She considered him to be a traitor of sorts. Her loyalty to Jowan made her a life long number two. She had no ambition to be number one. Which of course, Jack did. He had it in spades. Jowan knew this, but he didn't really see it as a threat, rather an asset. Whether that was a vote of confidence in his abilities, or just a complete underestimation of his abilities he didn't know. She stopped at his side, Both looking at one another side on. " And just where are you going?". She said in a rather seductive tone, but he could feel the hateful jump in her words, clinging to each one of them like some kind of dirt ridden venom. “ Job for the boss, super secret”. He winked at her, knowing that it would drive her insane just to know that Jowan had given him a task that he couldn’t have revealed the details of to even her. “ I’ll just ask him about it shall I?”. Jack shrugged. And began to walk away, not turning to face her as he spoke in the last word. “ Sure. But you can’t get shit out a rocking horse”. He heard and felt her fuming as she marched into the main hall of the seat of pride. Jack opened the doors, the wind hitting his face. His smirk twisting into a frown, didn’t like this weather one bit. But he would have to deal with it at least for now. He couldn’t just stay in doors all day or ask Jowan to make it rain wherever he went. It would probably be a good idea just to learn how to do that himself. At least then it would be refreshing. Regardless of the drain on his power. The Clan of desire demons lay to the south. Walking time.
Word Count: 4003 PWC:4003 Exp: 4316
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