A Lady out of Doors

[Samaena]

Tilly had stood aghast for the most part as Typhus had emerged from the catacombs. The woman had seen some things in her time here at the Castle but this one had to top the lot. Typhus was given passage and she hurried in his wake to fluster to herself, wipe trembling hands down the front of her apron as she made to look for Kaliya.
Hard work on her own but the old lass was swift enough. Old worn shoes scuffing upon the marble as she wobbled down the halls. The Lady had spent more time in her chambers lately. It was the last place she had seen her…and the two young’uns and it made sense to start there…<br>
“M’Lady” tentatively called on breathless voice. The door gently teased open to find no one home…The roll of eyes and the resigned way the woman turned to make her way back spoke volumes. All that way for nothing. Wasn’t that the way it had always gone here? She should have known better.

However, Tilly’s job would have been made all that much easier. Tilly wouldn’t have to huff and puff and bluster about all she had seen of the ‘Young’ man that had ventured from the catacombs. There would be no tall tales to tell and for the most part…the Castle would lay silent. The lack of gossip among the other staff a distant memory. The family were alone…or were they?

~o~O~o~

Kaliya was still by the Grove. Moving within the shadow. Careful steps slow and defined, gentle whispers to one she needed to find. Christian for the most part had left her to search, there had been no help offered and she’d have taken none. The front of her skirts gathered in her hands as she stepped within the longer of the grass.
A genuine smile for none to see, the toe of her show finding what she sought. It had been along time gone and she was pleased to see that shimmer of red pulse its way the length of the blade as she stooped to gather up her old friend. ‘Tamashii’ was back where it belonged…why she had taken it from its place upon the chimney breast in the first instance would remain a mystery. Perhaps she had just needed…a friend. The cold steel of a blade more of a friend than even any of her own could have been…<br>Sad for the most part. No regrets, no pain or sorrow. She had set out to do what she had meant to and in the end, her family, although detached in more ways than one…were still strong enough to come together when the need arose. They knew what mattered and when.

Glancing about for Christian, seeing that he was no longer close she was resigned to head back, till she caught on the winds, the voice that told of guests.
The hood of her cloak was lowered and she looked toward the grove…Cass, Celene and Ellatole were close. Christian was probably under some tree reaching for some obscure herb. Faith was still brooding, somewhere…but it was sight of Typhus coming out of the castle to make way to the Grove. No concern given, the place was as safe as it always had been.
Moon was still missing but she knew that he’d venture back as and when he chose to. Wasn’t that how it had always been?
A slight sniff was the only sound of her discord with the whole situation. Her head was held high as she ventured out into the open. She was not one to hide from whatever, or whoever came. Only perhaps one she had met before had the advantage of the element of surprise. She had hardly expected him of all people to turn up here. Slender brow arched with that question and curiosity. Though she was swift to gather again in her hand the front of her velvet gown. To stride toward Typhus…though her gaze did stray skyward. Alex and Jao were hard to miss…<br>
Though she took not another step. Looking up at the two figures…watching as one departed. Things just got more and more interesting didn’t they?
The tip of her blade came to rest in the grass. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to meet these visitors in the open…despite the unsettling feeling of that prickle upon her flesh. She’d be as she always tried to be. The Lady of the Castle.

[John]

It had been a waiting game for him. One that he had taken more seriously than anything else in his entire realm of existence. The flow of the winds around his frame, the rising and setting of the sun around him as he resided above the canopy of clouds that infested the skies above and abroad. The location of both home and grove so easily attained from where he was posted. However he had not moved, he had not swayed from his position. All he did was wait, his eyes closed, the features of his face as stone cold as his previous record. Perhaps there was no changing some people.

Then his frame came to life suddenly. Moon's arms extended, the cloak spread outwards and arched into the shape of batlike wings for a moment before he cut downwards through the air in a direct line for the grove. The darkened skies splitting in his wake as his frame landed with a tremor upon the soil just beyond the grove itself. The shockwave carried for less than a mile, his robe-like cloak all about him, his head rising, directing his blue eyes forward towards Kaliya, the sword, and then back to Kaliya. Slowly he ascended and paced forward, turning around to settled a bit in front of Kaliya, though at her side. He was there.

Not a word was said, but he was there. He turned and looked at the woman for a moment, memorizing her features before he then made his way from Kaliya's side towards Typhus himself. His movements hard to predict, but this time... This time it was clear what he was going to do.

Each step drew him closer to the interloper, closer to a struggle. Every time he moved with that preturnatural grace, it seemed he was moving that much closer to a flame that he himself could not control. It seemed that it did not matter. At least not to him.

Jao's frame broke through the skies. His body jolting forward once more creating a roaring sonic boom to burst forth from around his frame. The winds blistered around his body, his hair danced wildly behind his frame, and he closed his eyes, homing in on a particular portion of the land. He felt Moon's presence, he felt Kaliya and he felt Typhus... odd. So much struggle, so much conflict... A burden beyond compare or so it seemed. He would not dabble with Moon or the GreySeerer family, not yet. Jao passed over Moon swiftly, and drew downwards.

Both of his feet landed upon the soil, and he stared at the gateway where he knew that Typhus would have to pass to make his way to the grove. The ancient being began to pace forward. Faith beyond comprehension guiding him, mercy and compassion fueling him, and grace protecting him. In the wake of this turmoil the presence of a Godly man seemed to extend forth in every direction like a beacon in the fog. A light house admist the foggy landscapes. Jao's presence, his dedication to Christ himself, brought with him a flood of righteousness, though he himself walked with humility, and patience. It was this same humility that brought him to the very door of the GreySeerer home, and instead of demanding, instead of bursting in. Instead of calling out in a thunderous voice, he merely raised his hand, closed his fingers into a fist...

And Knocked.

[Samaena]

The door to the GreySeerer household was opened right away. Jao would first see a rather flustered, red faced Tilly. Breathless and wide-eyed as she looked up at a total stranger. This was madness, she was the only one left and running around the castle was doing her feet no good at all.

“Good Evenin’ Sir”
Tilly rattled out rather in surprise. There had been no mention of guests coming and she hadn’t prepared any rooms. Groaning inwardly as the thought of having to rush around and make so many things resemble normality…<br>
“I’m afraid the Mister and Missus aint ‘ome” truthfully told but the door was pulled open that much wider. Leaving the view behind her clear enough for even her tired old eyes. A single nod to herself as she looked beyond Jao then. Old wizened, bony fingers reached out and past him toward the gathering of figures by the grove…<br>
“Though I think y’ might find ‘em there” What on earth was going on now? Squinting to try make the best of what she could see…stepping by Jao, leaving the door wide open for any and all to venture within. She only paused upon the step…it seemed she didn’t need to kind the Lady now. Typhus had found her after all and she turned then to speak to the gentleman that had come a calling.

“I’m sure they’ll be back in a minute. Come in…come in” she blustered. Walking back into the dimly lit halls to go and do something in the kitchen…though even she doubted that Jao would cross the threshold. There was something about the man she couldn’t place. It brought a smile and another nod to herself, more expletives were muttered to herself as she went about her duties.

~o~O~o~

What came next was just as much a surprise to her as Moon had perhaps intended. She had planned to deal with this alone…just as she had the rest, for so long. Her stance was shaken and rightly so as Moon descended and planted his feet firmly once again. Clueless as to where he had been or why…if only she’d known that he had watched.
Just how much had he seen exactly? Closing her eyes for that briefest of instants, the winds, the noise as another placed feet on solid ground…She refused to move.
Her intense jade green eyes were only for the man she loved though there was the slightest of frowns to mar her visage. Not a word exchanged…just the looks…it was the way he had looked at her that left her reeling. Never had she known him so…cold.

“Moon?” a question left wide open…though futile as soon as it had left her lips. His intent was clear to her. Torn between the ties of love, and the need to protect Typhus till he could complete his set task. The hilt of her blade gripped that much tighter within her grasp…a step taken forward, her spare hand reaching to catch at Moon’s robes to at least be able to give pause…for thoughts, for words…for something.
A glance to Typhus to at least try to forewarn…she couldn’t and wouldn’t say a word. Betrayal came in many forms, shapes and sizes. Actions spoke louder than words. Had hers been seen?
“Moon…that’s not it” exclaimed as more steps were taken to gain at least a pause. Respite where reasoning and explanations could be given though…the way he had looked at her she doubted he’d have heard anything much. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Or at least it was the way she had seen things from the Bearers perspective.

[John]

Cold did not explain the forces and the echo of absence that Moon seemed to portray. Everything his fault, everyone against him, his family in turmoil. Were they all that weak? As soon as Kaliya touched his robes he turned and directed his eyes upon her. Those cool, blue eyes shifted their hues to a violent, overpowering crimson, that was meant to put her in her place. He was doing something, he would not be disturbed.

"Leave us!" he hissed forth from the back of his throat, his fangs bared to full length, the features of his countenance appearing far more corpse like than they had been in millennia. And he would turn and then see the form of Typhus pacing forth from the house. His lips peeled back as his cloak swept forth from Kaliya's grip. The sound of steel and metal clashing within the air as the cloaks very surface clamored forth, creating blades, and hooks, edges keen and dangerous. The darkness slithered forth from around him, rising to cast an eerie obfuscation around his form as he raised himself and turned wholly to bear this Bearer.

Jao smiled at Tilly, ever so pleasantly, and raised both brows.

"Not home?" he inquired. "Well I was here to help with a little demon problem."

Jao smiled and then his brow creased as he turned around slowly. The features of his face grew grave as his emerald eyes focused off into the distance.

"Perhaps I'll stop by for tea another time, Ma'am, but I think that I must be going," stated Jao ever so kindly as he smiled at the woman and then stepped away from her.

Jao's frame seemed to pull away into another direction, a green hue enveloping his form, pulling his frame from one point to another. This other point being ten feet away from Typhus. Ten feet behind The Bearer. Jao looked the man over and then raised his eyes towards the distance where he saw Moon and Kaliya. He took in a deep breath.

Jao took a step forward, he knew that Moon was preparing, he knew that Kaliya was worried. However what he didn't know about was this Typhus individual. He paced forward, his long sleeves rolling about his arms, his blade upon his side. Jao drew nearer to Typhus and then merely extended his hand to place it upon the man's shoulder. Merely an attempt of course.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you'd care to talk?" inquired Jao quite kindly.

Though all around him the beck and call of heaven itself seemed to ebb and sway. The coursing flow of a faith truer than time itself flowing through this man as naturally as if it was simply suppose to be. Jao was ready for battle, but more in the spiritual sense of the word. His left hand extending slowly, cautiously to rest upon the shoulder of a man who seemed so... down trodden, so aching, and burdened.

[Typhus]

It was all beginning anew.....there were those that would not be silenced, and even now their voices cried out to be heard and begged to plead. Of Kaliya? He would say nothing for the moment, merely tilting that masked head to the side, wanting to truly know what was going on here. There were peoples here who somehow he knew would be right where they were. In the back of that mind he could almost force himself to believe that he had seen all of this before; Moon by Kaliya's side, Kaliya herself ready to do what she must here and now. Why did this all seem so familiar? Why was he seeing this before yet not having a way to place picture and sound to it. A frail, paled hand would move to his temple, ashen fingers mere inches away from that glyph upon the left lid which flickered in irritation so. A headache was forming from the constant thinkng; too much of the same thoughts coursing through his head, the thrumming of that wicked blade now held in his grip truly not helping at all.

"Moon and Kaliya.....for some reason I knew that this was to come." In truth it was; the haunting images and recurring pictures of these two individuals before him. Slowly his eyes began to widen, looking to them both as if he was seeing them with a new light. They were becoming new to him.....eyes flickering with a fire he had never truly known before, that side of his temple throbbing with a force he had never known in his life. Even the screaming torrents of the daemon within paled in comparison to the rising pressure in the side of his head; teeth gritted and eyes narrowing slowly in an attempt to push through this new trial.

What indeed was happening? What wascausing the pressure which felt like weights to his temples, crushing his skull within the steel of that grip? Perhaps no one would know; all one could tell was that he was struggling with something else other then the simple barbarous natures of the weapon in his grip, the knuckles of that hold snow-white, using the tool as a focus for the pain. Within those eyes? The thrumming was taking a beat; a slow synonomous beat which sounded like the rapping of great, bassonous drums. Beatng one, two, three, four; never stopping but beating more. Continuing non-stop, pushing against his mind and even the spirit which he now feared had gone too far. Was at last his penalties for crossing time and etheral space coming to fruition? The end of things coming after that spark of hope had been lit anew. Kaliya......Moon.....Jao.....all those who looked to the one who seemed so strong, but staggered forwards once....they would think him dying away.

Indeed it looked like he was rotting away; those veins upon arms and throat raising violently to the sight of others, those same cappilaries turning pitch black.....looking as if something had taken hold of that sincerely frightened visage. There was no hiding it; Typhus was scared, and something had been able to slide itself so close to him through means even he did not know......and perhaps now he suffered for it. But hold! Look to the veins it seemed! Those veins would throb, as if alive with a sentience of their own behalf.. Pulsing, throbbing......moving. The black within the body pulsed away with motions of it's own wants, sliding up the neck with a will of it's own, whatever tainted Typhus' body so slowly creeping up his body, taking hold of flesh and bone and running up those pale cheeks, along bones bones and sinew.....and entering into those eyes which held both amazement as well as fear.....even as Moon would move to prepare himself for battle.

[Typhus]

Eyes would remain wide with a terror he had not known, Gaulgmouth itself beginning to writhe in his hand, shifting about in ways that would hint at fear for such an ethereal being. The wood of something not meant to be touched by the worlds of men and women were beginning to writhe out in an agony long lost to the world.....the agony that was the touch of something even stronger then he, purity or malice failing to compare to what had so graced that young man, eyes glittering in a jeweled haze, twinkling like diamonds against the light of an unknown sun. Diamonds seeing all, touching to all, knowing all for only that fluttering of a movement. A shifting of the tides within him, the vicious yank of what he was bringing him a motion backwards, bringing him back to where he started when this maddening agony began. Shivering slowly, that frame quaked with ocular hues of emerald, sapphire, rube and jet.....the jewels of humanity flowing through those pupils of blue...a blue once more, the icy tint returning after that flourish from something unknown.

"What in The Four was that..." A soft whisper to himself as he looked up to both Kaliya and Moon once more. In that look.......the world had changed.

Where they stood, they would no longer stand alone; liquid threads of what could be called swirling, milky fire splayed out from the elder man and woman, circling them in a dance of white flame. Yet these weaving tendrils, the bringers of light in what was now a pale, greyed world of dulled tints and hues, held not only a serene look to both he and the already awake daemon-vessel; the whispers of conversations not yet spoken, the boundless thoughts of a plan unfoiled nor begun.....images, sounds and voices of all those they were to meet in various lifetimes worth of being within them all, a symphony of sound and sight dancing in slow rythyms, surrounding them in it's ever-rising coils of white flicker. Every possible fate concieved flowed out and around Kaliya and Moon, many changed and dour, holding a fate not meant for her to oversee...yet all of them with her passing as she wished, happy and the family she had wrought still strong at the end of all things.

And in it all he could see these weaving threads of fate; indeed fate and change itself moving about him, showing openly what was meant for another, not meant for the eyes of a mortal to see yet a blessing offering these gifts to him. The mark? To that left cornered eyelid that thumb-sized mark had indeed shifted; changed into something deeper, something larger. Tribalistic it had become, the weaving jagged lines of what was a miniscule thing not taking all of his left temple and cheekbone, stopping midway down the cheek, halting with curling lines which formed symmetry, yet did not......forming what was not meant to be mande, unmaking it once more and reforming in a stymied picture upon skin. This was indeed a blessing; a blessing from one that had hidden within yet without, sliding from the bleak gloom between both time and space to place it's own hand to the one that was chosen.

And what of Jao? The motion to place a hand on shoulder was responded to...before he had even moved it had been responded to, turning around and facing this newcomer with that quiet look of contemplation. The same would not indeed be set for Gaulgmouth, the blade of blades which was still cluthed in thin, starved hand. Gesticulating shards of boney sinew, shards of wood interlayed within sharply slashing out from the simple shaft.....Jao's mere prescence bringing about the ire of the blade which so contained the essence of evil. A writhing, moving entity it had become; the rusted steel squealing out in the shrieking of metal to metal, a bubbling sound of roaring fury, the depthless anger of something truly ancient within the binds of blade and wood. Typhus had turned his back to Moon in that single motion of Jao's hand reaching for shoulder, anticipating the move moments before truly happening, yet now beginning to understand why. Not a touch was given, despite the writhing, spitting Gaulgmouth...instead he turned fully to look to Jao, his head tilted to the side as that motion of silent parley was digested.

"For once.....I think talking would do more then acting." A slight, very slight smile from lips that were a little warmer, a little more confident within eyes of that icy tint. In those motions he had stepped away and behind Jao, the blade which writhed so angrily to tear and eviscerate coming too close for Typhus' own liking, and thus that scythe held out away from them both; the shrieking faces which rose from the woodgrain chattering aimlessly; the mix of lost and deranged little voices melding with the shuddering snarls that a beast could not be contained. And contained it was; that smiling young man holding a burden not meant for humans, pure of heart despite the wickedness of their twin minds.

Twin minds; Human and Daemon, bound together by fate and destiny alone. And it seems that fate itself, the raw entity which permeated all that swirled around mortality.....had thrown it's lot in with the Human.

[John]

Power beyond measure.

That was always what Moon seemed to see when he looked at that man. That man with the emerald eyes. Jao was it? The man who was ever so calm, ever so peaceful, ever so humble and yet at the same time the flow of power that existed within him, around him was always astounding. It was something he wasn ot equiped to deal with and he found that every plan that he had formulated, that everything that he had wanted with Typhus, with his own wife was going to fade away to nothing. Defeat was something that he was not familiar with, however he knew that he had lost before a single blow was delivered. How odd it was to see this Jao individual there once more. A beacon of light through all of the darkness. The presence of righteousness amidst the pagans. Poetic, to see him reaching out to The Bearer, and for what? Did he think that his talk and his peace could change the man, or more so that which existed within the staff.

The creature contained therein was not to be trifled with. Moon knew this and yet would not admit it. That was something that seemed far from defeat. His pride. Whether it be human or demon Moon would not back down and cower. He knew that defeat was an option with Jao standing not twenty feet away from him. However even in the wake of such knowledge his mind was moving. His ideas flowing. What to do? All he could do was wait or so it seemed. His presence of mind filing into order as he calmed himself.

The long tides of his cloak settled finally around him and his redened eyes lost their crimson madness. Those blue eyes focused upon Typhus and then upon Jao. He turned towards Kaliya and whispered.

"Meet me far east, within the forest nearest the Kingdom of Doluge, there you will find me, but speak not a word of this to any other. Do not stop your travels, take yourself quickly there and wait for me," he stated as he turned towards Jao and Typhus once more.

His cold blue eyes narrowed. He hoped past all hope that this Kheinmor could do something to change the tides of this battle. He himself crouched and his cloak slashed outwards on either side of him like massive batlike wings before he swept upwards through the air, burrowing a whirling hole into the clouds before he made his way to the castle. A plan was in the making.

---

Jao took a step back away from the man and turned his gaze towards Kaliya and Moon. The man was enigmatic, however to him the problem was clear. He just wouldn't speak of it as of yet. He was however pleased to face Typhus once more and then hear that he would like to talk. The smile on his face was genuine. He extended his hand.

"Well I don't know about you... I didn't get your name by the way... but I could use a bite to eat," he offered. "Kaliya.."

Jao paused and watched as Moon darted up through the heavens. What was that blood sucker up to? He shook his head and then turned his eyes back towards Kaliya.

"Where's the nearest tavern. I think we should talk over a nice hot meal. If I didn't know any better I'd say the fellow here could definately use a bite," he said quite sincerely.

All in all it was no game, it was no plot. Jao merely wanted to talk. He wanted to find out why Typhus was given such a burden. He wanted to know why this was all happening. And ultimately he wanted to speak to this Demon. Jao had no fear of man or demon. There was nothing in all of hell, all of Ayenne, or anywhere that he feared. The thing he feared was missing a chance to help someone, save someone. He was indeed a bleeding heart but he was strong. His patience always saw to a calm, conversation And even now, though he was prepared for a fight, he was poised as a friend. His hand extended towards Typhus, his eyes focused upon the man's with a calm, humble offering of trust. That is indeed what it boiled down to. Would this man trust Jao? Inwardly Jao hoped so, he loved this man, as he was commanded to. Much like he loved his neighbors, his enemies, and even strangers.

Was it odd? Most definately, and he was hated for it. However it was the path he chose to walk and he had been walking it faithfully for a very long time.

[Samaena]

Left to smart at being told to ‘Leave them’ she remained stood where she was. The look in Moon’s eyes and the way he had hissed at her. Yes she smarted over that one. Jade hues narrowed and she merely fidgeted where she stood. She was quite sure that she was not going to leave at all. Moon should have known better.
It wasn’t that she wanted to interfere, there wasn’t much she felt she could do for Typhus, nor offer him at this point.
The catacombs had been a place he made use of, she had welcomed him into her home. Words had been exchanged on the rare occasion and the poor man knew that her patience ran thin. She wanted that demon cast back to the depths of Hell. Sent back with minimal fuss, the sooner the better.

Her gaze shifted to take in Typhus as she struggled with his burden. Only a knowing nod offered. So he had known it was all to come, the talks only prolonged the inevitable but there was nothing she could offer. The demon, the scythe that screamed and writhed in his grasp only went from one extreme to another. It was high time they both, the Demon and Typhus knew some peace.
For some reason she felt Jao could help. Would he? The man was regarded carefully, just as she had the day they had all met at Hope and Eric’s home…the thought of such a time was one that brought a sigh. No regrets, no secret desires. Nothing.
She had all she wanted and needed. Didn’t she?

Moon’s gaze was met once again and the relief that came was immense. She had seen again into pools of blue and his whisper…although confusing was left to replay in her mind as he had gone again. To where this time? It hardly looked as though he headed East. Of course she had uplifted her face to watch…only she had other things to attend to.
Looking back to Jao as she was addressed she had caught the sight of Cassandra running toward the castle. However she had been told to do something, be somewhere else. Would she do it? Could she go? She had to didn’t she?

Was she offended that Jao had considered a tavern rather than take advantage of the hospitality they could and had offered.
“Forgive me “ she offered softly. Gesturing toward Typhus though she spoke to Jao. “Typhus is a guest here.” Yes the reason he was here was beneath the castle itself, deep within the catacombs. Perhaps what she had said he might have found…odd but it was a simple truth. They might have been ‘bloodsuckers’ but they were not totally without compassion.

“I’m sure Tilly could see to any of your needs” she smiled then as she thought of the old Hen bustling and fussing. She had to leave her? Moon had said she wasn’t to mention their plans to another soul and her smile faded quickly.
“If you insist on a tavern the closest would be…” she didn’t finish immediately. It wasn’t as though she ventured from their lands often.
“To the South, way beyond the grove” – if she was to head East then the last thing she wanted was to be followed. She gestured the way and nodded only once before she began to turn away. Pulling the hood of her cloak back over her head, she’d smile and take a step back and away.

“Excuse me” with that she was leaving. Heading into the thick of the shadows…they were so much easier to move through and Moon had made sure with his tone that she should make haste.

[John]

Moon's frame cut through the darkness swiftly. The established scenario was something that was not so much beyond his control. It was something that would work to his advantage. He landed upon the very peak of the castle, and descended into one of the windows. The features of his face locked into a dismill sort of grace appearance that was far more corpselike, far more menacing. He paced down the steps and called out for Tilly.

"Make sure that I am not disturbed and that..." The shadows ascended around his frame, just as he was speaking to Tilly. A monstrous black swiming up and forward towards him.

Swiftly his cloak expanded outwards and a loud clash of hardened substances that matched the test of steele rang forth. The large looming darkness came and his eyes narrowed against this.

"A ploy of the demon!" he called forth. His blue eyes narrowing into slits of climson. "Tilly get to Kaliya, and tell Cassandra not to enter this place!"

"Go now!" he called forth.

The darkness swelled and launched itself forward, swiftly, cutting through the air with scythes of black and inky tendrils of tangible darkness. Shredding noises ripped forth and a loud hiss broke forth from the very well of his throat as a darkened pike slipped into his shoulder, lifting his frame, tossing him into one of the hard, stone walls. His back crushed into it, rocks shattered and he fell to his knees, rising just the same and making his way forward.

Tilly's eyes were wide, the horror all of a sudden welling around her as the demonic looking darkness swelled and attacked Moon. She ran towards the front of the castle, encountering Cassandra.

"Run!" was all that her frantic mind could manage.

A banister crumbled and the darkness swelled around his frame, and he fell backwards landing upon one of the many tables in the dining room. Splinters ripped forth throughout the air around him. His crimson eyes narrowed as blades of the same darkness whipped out and a vicious squeal echoed forth. The fight continued on as again he was tossed and launched about in the fray. His frame crushing into pillars, blades cutting at his cloaked frame. The interior of the halls were wrecked with trembling stone and falling mortor. Moon fell upon the steps and turned slowly. The blood running from various wounds as the inky pool came forward once more. His hands ascended and a blistering cold burst out from his frame slipping outwards like a maelstrom. Like ringing crystals did the entirety of the room shimmer, and glisten as the preturnatural chill of death's embrace washed forth over the steps, over the banisters, over marble and steel, over the dark, monstrocity, sealing it in caked layers of Ice. He exhaled deeply, and ascended slowly. The ice cracked, and shattered, a thousand pins jetting outwards like lances towards his frame, and he could only watch as they drew near.

Moon's scream ripped forth from his mouth. A death cry that reverberated forth from his mouth, and skipped from one cord of life to the next. A scream that echoed forth from him and bellowed out towards the ears of Cassandra, to the ear of Faith, and Hope, to Kyle and those of the household GreySeerer. A cry that meant the fall of the Patriarch, the death of a tyrant, the fall of a father, if he could have been called that. That scream echoed forth but Kaliya would hear nothing.

The body fell, decomposing swiftly. The darkness washed forth over the surface of the ground, and the cold frozen portions of its frame began to break, and its lower frame shattered It squealed viciously and fell into pieces, struggling to reform itself before it was no more than a blackened pool upon the floor, muddled with blood, and chunks of melting ice.

-------

Jao gave Kaliya a nod and smiled, only to look incredibly sheepish.

"My apologies Kaliya," he offered with a smile. "I hadn't wanted to intrude, or to invite myself but thank..."

He watched her for a moment. The silence that intruded upon her so suddenly, the look of thought upon her face. He wouldn't ask because he knew in a round about way that something was going to happen. He simply did not know what. The features of his face were still just as calm. The shrieking, calling horror of the staff was ignored was ease. He seemed to not consider it, he seemed to not think of it. Though at times he would simply turn and look at it. He would not ask it to be silent, he would not dismiss it, or try to fight it. Not at the moment. However his authority over demon's was not a trifle, nor was it to be underestimated. The fact remained that he was simply a humble man, and wanted to know how he could help the man first and foremost. The direction was given.

"Care to walk and talk with me Typhus is it?" he inquired. "I might have introduced myself before, but I'm Jao, and I must say, seems you've got a lot on your shoulders." he said quite simply as he began to walk, at the side of the mortal man, with the demonic burden.

[Samaena]

Swinging around the corner she was intent on going in. Why did she want so badly to venture back into a place she abhorred. Perhaps because it was home, or had been at one time. The place still held laughter and memories of family…at times even she needed those. Echoes of a much darker and oppressive past still filtered through.
Dodging back against the wall as Tilly came out her shrieking at her to ‘Run’ she pressed herself up against the wall to let the woman past…what the hell could have freaked her out now?
As soon as she had asked herself the questions she knew…she could feel it, smell it, taste it in the air. He was here.
Hardly surprising the poor old woman had run away. Little did she knew that she’d actually been told to.

Pausing to watch Tilly run from the castle, the woman wobbling from one side to the other as she struggled to maintain her balance.

“Stupid woman” muttered to herself as she stepped within the walls she had once called ‘home’ – She’d not run from Him. He’d have liked that wouldn’t he. To have seen her walk away, to hide away. It was all bullshit.
Scowling at herself as she still remained so intent on holding on to the bad, the hate…again she paused in the hall. It was so damn cold!
It was never this cold in here. Never. Mother saw to that. She could see her own breath as it condensed in the air…the patterns of frost and ice creeping toward her as everything iced over.
“What the…?” frowning, wrapping her arms about herself she still moved further in. She’d missed most of what had happened to her Father, the last she caught first hand. Including the scream. A sound she hadn’t expected to hear, especially from him. Her hands came then to cover her ears…to block out that which she didn’t want to hear…anything but that. She couldn’t turn away from the horror of what she saw.

That just wasn’t fair!
She’d dreamed of this moment, to see her Father dead. Some sick, twisted shape of some sort of poetic justice, but she had never, ever in her wildest dreams thought she’d feel as she did. For some reason she was not glad to see the man fall. In fact, as she watched the horror shrivel to nothing but goo…she took a tentative step toward where her Father had fallen. So many things she wanted to say, so many of her own thoughts left unsaid. It was all too late.
Mindful of her every step through the rapidly melting ice, the blood and the stuff that…thing had left on the floor she’d find the frame of her fallen Father. Only as she took in the sight she had nothing to say…should she have said something? ‘Bastard’ came to mind…and how much she hated him. How this should never have happened, how he should have been there!
Even there looking at…nothing she had to ask herself if she could have really done it. Too late now wasn’t it. She’d never know.

Perhaps Alex had been right about those walls. What was she and what did she have without them. Without that hate she lived for. A heavy sigh and resignation came over her then. The dagger she had worn at her hip for so long now still appeared to be nothing more than a hilt. It was taken without much care and left to fall from her grasp at his side.

“Sleep well…” she paused…seemingly stuck on the word she really wanted to say. It had been so long and all she had perhaps wished for “Dad” she managed to say as she turned away. All she had ever wanted was for him to see her.

It was all short-lived as the castle began to shake. More of the stone and mortar began to crack and crumble. Dust settling in her hair, on her shoulders and it was time, as she glanced up to see what on earth was going on…to go. Only she wasn’t running back the way she had come. Past the broken chairs and tables to the main staircase. Taking the stairs two at a time as the cracks in the marble floor seemed to chase her as she ran. Even then she felt the heat as smoke and steam began to rise. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to come in after all…<br>
[Edit: I forgot Tilly!]

Well she had seen some things in her day at the Castle but this one was far worse than any other. She had seen Moon attacked, she had seen the shadow all but swallow him up and the blades…She was hysterical as she ran from the place. Never had she ever thought this day would come.
“M’Lady! M’Lady!” she shrieked. Desperate to find Kaliya.

All a fluster with the whole situation. Tears streaked her cheeks, he grey hair was flying free from its usually neat little bun. Tilly knew the Lady would be distraught, there’d be no consoling her, not this time.
The hours she had spent on her feet, just talking quietly with Kaliya while she brushed through beautiful, ebon silk…just to offer that little comfort where she could.

It was the scream that took her to her knees, quite the tumble for one so old and frail. Her sobbing was only a muffle as she tried to cover her ears to block that terrible sound. In that one, singular moment she knew the Master was lost to them. Only glancing up to look toward two figures. She wasn’t sure for she couldn’t wipe the tears from her old eyes fast enough.
All she could do for the moment was sit where she had fallen and sob into her hands.

Where was Kaliya?



#nosmileys#nosmileys

[Typhus]

He would listen and he would take heed; for that was all that he was truly capable of even ast he stood there, looking at the man who seemed to radiate peace. Of his age? That would be something to consider when times were not as perilous as they were here and now; the cloud above seemed to pulsate with a crimson he knew not possible, the coming of a time where angels would fear to tread so very close indeed.

"Truly a pleasure Jao.....if it can be said in such a scenario......" A hand over the heart and a slight bow at the waist; the tradition of where he was groomed surfacing for but a single moment before he would raise anew. That hand would fall away before he would nod softly; the hand which held that screaming staff hushing for now, yet those faces within the woodwork bringing about newer, angrier expressions. they all seemed infuriated with the one that held it still,a dn that voice would silence only in the real world, the screeching within the soul not stopping. Oh indeed; it would not have stopped, if anything it would personify into something wholly unnatural.

"No taverns, no civilization...I....I shall only leave this place in the path that's taken if I can divert the wrath of those below from this place." Of the walk? He would follow even as he turned that blade within his grip to be at a safer ease; held in the opposite hand of where Jao would stand to both put himself and others at a sense of peace. The daemon within was not one of the minor essences perhaps this man was normally dealt with; the power and flux of the wicked intent within would rid any sense of ease with this entity, no simple quell of mortal man truly enough to contain the beast therin. Yet alas, if Jao would move to that Grove Typhus would not follow, his steps taking him to the edge of that peaceful place of calming airs but never a single step farther. He would not enter this place with Gaulgmouth as ready to fracture as it was at the moment; that scythe even now wrestling in the grip of The Bearer, hat arm shifting here and there as the sentient will of that weapon thrashed about. If Jao would leave the Grove? Then Typhus would indeed follow as best he could; Jao's steps more laid-out and thoughtful whilst Typhus himself was coldly methodical, mechanical almost in the way he would follow the man of peace.

"Times are changing, Jao. The world is teetering on a brink that is just now coming to fruition." He would state quietly, removing what little satisfaction he had in his solitude with that flourish of movements, tilting his head to that man for a single moment. What a image they would portray; an iconoclastic image of the two visions of the world united. The simple man in cleaned, groomed clothing; combed emotions with a kindly heart within the humble soul. And The Bearer; the thinned, almost wasted man of rotted black and terracotta linen, with a weapon of such pure evil that the world around it seemed to wail in fear.

"Dreams are forming, within my mind that is.....words of a language I cannot understand, yet I feel that they are familiar. Like a book I have written but cannot recall, though the plot is still known to me........" A hand to the head whilst he spoke; eyes squinting as if in deep thought, or perhaps deep pain. Perhaps both whilst that hand touched to that tattooed temple. The dreams were getting more and more frequent.....though with the sounds and emenations of what was fate's path he would need to halt those thoughts on his coming of portented nightmare. He stopped then, turning to Jao for that one moment before he stopped to a standstill. A cocked head while blinking eyes would take in veritibly nothing, yet everything at once. Looking calmed despite the blackening stone beneath his feet, nor the flames which sprouted in far more intense heat and size then the others.

"Moon; he is dead, Jao......" Nothing more would be offered despite the death knell of the tyrant, his eyes widening for a moment before once again he turned around. ".....and more of this death will come if it is not stopped." A flurry of the emotion that seemed to be so lost from him, turning himself and away from Jao in that split second to rush away and towards the dining room. How would he know of it? He watched the path his sight would lead him down, through the fog of ages which was now revealed to him. Fate's strands would be puleld and twisted whilst his steps took him closer and closer to where he knew Cass would be finding her end. Of Tilly? He saw her for that fleeting moment, and in that he would move away and around, the precognition that seemed so simple for him now paramount moments before she would be scrambling down those steps. She seemed far too interested in looking for 'her Mistress' to be worried about how unnering that dodge had been, merely leaving Jao in the dust of his mumured thoughts and ashen ponderings. All Jao would truly make sense of in Typhus' motions would perhaps be the swirling black and deep-earthen brown.

Hands moved whilst he barreled through that staircase, eyes narrowing all the while and that blade of such malicious intent lashed to the backside, a pulsing throb of white emenating from beneath the attire of that desheveled young man. Whatever had happened, that blade was fixated to the backside of The Bearer, the jingling of chained steel palpable whilst that blade laughed. A laugh! A might laugh of the most barborous intents! Wicked intent from the most diabolic of evils, cackling through the very soul of an air so raped of purity, the sound of that cackling voice from the deepest pits of the Ninth Circle echoing through the staircase and towards where Jao and Tilly would be. Even as that door was breached and the back exit to the dining room was opened, those eyes would see what had become of the dining room. The room shook as if in labour, the birth of something not meant for this world coming anew whilst the floor would heave. Like reality itself was shirking it's duties, the stones were blackening.....twisting.....opening and releasing great gouts of smoke and flame. Licking tendrils of fire charring the tables, chairs, anything of flammable make...the room aflame with the fires of the Hells, the ground beginning to heave skywards......and the chittering of sentient life beginning to take precadence within the slowly-increasing roar of the fire.

Typhus, The Bearer of Gaulgmouth, could only look at this rift towards Hell with a quiet resolve as well as shock. Hands were pressed before him, his eyes keeping narrowed before whispered words were loosed. Of Cass? She might see him enter this room for a moment; the black and brown tabard of his attire entering this hell-pit / dining room to enact what could be the end of him.

"So be it......your plans will be circumvented with mine, beast."

[Typhus]

Even ast he looked to this he was beginning the first flux of energy, the weaving zephyrs of that which he had been born to give, the first touches to a life he did not truly think his own. The air would shift, ripple as if made of water, the atmophere changing around him whilst the Hells began anew with what was coming through the floor. The cobbled ground looked as if it were coming of age and a day, the fires that roared out from the heaving innards of a realm not meant for the sane threatening to buckle the castle from within, and pull that palace of antiqued majesty inwards through the regions to such misery abound. The beginning of their end if this place would indeed be pulled into the screaming bowels of the earth; the flames soaring higher yet never touching anything more then the simple items of value, nothing truly innocent nor sentient marred whilst that power leaked from the floor, from a place that angels wailed in such fretful terror.

That would not happen while he drew breath; looking at the fires around him and the soot which slowly collected to his form, the air continuing to waver like a lake stirred softly, moving effortlessly along the wills of what was slowly becoming something not of this world. The ground.....the very room.....it was opening to something unnatural, and with it would come the end of them all. Kaliya, Celene, Cass, Faith and the others that still resided within this place yet had not been unlucky enough to face him eye to eye. All that he remembered was that fateful meeting in what seemed to be an age ago, their first taste of what was happening here yet on a grander scale, that tavern now seeming all but miniscule while the air began to drift, and take him unto the atmosphere a single foot. It was beginning, the whispered words from his lips beginning to take shape withint he room itself, the flames of Hell crackling and ebbing, almost receding with what looked to be a test of wills which Typhus won. Alas.....that was not to be.

A gust of the onslaught from below, and The Bearer was cast against the blistering floor in a triumphant roar of more-wicked then ever fires. His vision blurred, the sight which he so relied on faded for a moment, the cackle of that which was strapped to his backside pounding against his mind. The roar of Hellsfire, the rumbling laughter of a beast thought won the millenia-long contest of humanity, the dying of the room's last vestiges of furniture and the slurred thrum of drums of the deep.....it was overwhelming to be in the center of what was becoming a maw to the world of sin and corruption. He looked up for a moment, his words never dying from silent lips, fists clenching as that thrust of 'watered' air continued to resonate, the winds of change shifting with the slowly building rebuttal to the Hell's want to destroy this taver. Eyes closed, burning with what he never thought would need to be done, only done when times of peril were wished upon by entities of terror, and every time it's touch used a lament of his own self, as it symbolized that he had failed in his duty to protect.

And yet.....as those eyes opened.....in his mind all was still, whilst eyes of white looked through the room ast time itself slowed to a standstill, the sands of that hourglass dropping grain by grain in his mind. Words at last, loud enough to be whispered in a hiss to himself, were released to the ears of both the mortal and immaterial; while vitae ran from hands and fingers, the penalty of daemonolgy payed dearly and the chains of steel and warded power sliding out from the depths of that tattered shroud, the threads of what was once cloak and tabard giving their charge with the incantations of command.

"Tis a place of fools if you think me afraid."

A single phrase whispered out to the triumphantly roaring voice in the back of his skull.....and the release of a power unknown to those he had touched overwhelming that which had been allowed to infest this room. Throughout the room....against the walls....blazing symbols of runic design were scorched into the stone, fire cutting into rock and wood with a potency unheard of by those of mortal coil, even rivalling the strength of Hell's mightest warriors themselves in their strength of duty. Their duty would begin as those runes hissed with a screech of their own making, the eyes of white-turning blue squinting in both pain and resignation for what was to come in all due time. The symbols; the runic talismans that were etched into the quarried stone of this room were only half of what was a great binding spell from the depths of the deep, to blot out the evils of what bled through this rift; he knew that he would have to finish the sealing of this tear between the rifts of time and space himself, and from the ~other~ side of the crumbling ends.

Thrum, thrum thrum, THRUM, THRUM! The thrumming from great voices of guttural evil increased in their volume and urgency to destroy and ravage! The ground even now beginning to fall away unto the fires of the damned, the last grip on reality's embrace releasing and allowing that young man that one moment of clarity. He knew where he was to go if he was to save this castle from what was coming all too quickly, the breach in the realms opening up to one and only place, the Seven Circles waiting for one that had been their target for so very, very long. Moments before? That clarity would be sweet indeed; the last flickering flares of that energy spent to end this madness for the GreySeerer ilk used to place a vast ward on his own body, on his own soul whilst Gaulgmouth rattled vainly in the audacity of this minute.

The brand to his flesh, the gift and boon of that which had been left by beings of 'middleground', the grey-slated minds and forces of what could be Fate itself, sinked into skin like the brand was steel and his flesh merely oil. Disappearing for all time to be replaced with another, marring the entirety of his face with the barbed tableau that was to be his shield in these dark times ahead. All but his lips, his eyes and the lobes of his ears, wreathed in the masked image that looked to be oft a daemon's visage from far away, the blackened picture to the body's face weighing like a lead mask to his self, though already knowing that the Circles could do little bit pass him as daemon-folk for the moment in time. There would be those within it's bowels that would sniff out the ruse and hunt him like a dog within the flaming pits of the netherlands.....but it was an edge he would take if any at all. Alas, that clarity, the last glimpses of what was reality and the simple pleasures of talk. Of being around others, of being with others for simple talk when it was possible, of even sitting to study what was his charge...that quiet peace.....was over.

Already the hole that bled to another world was closing, the signs of a majik so strong it fractured the serrogate rock continuing to blaze even as those fires slid down and away, all that was left of that once-terrorfying room being the soot of the furniture, the ash of the rock that had been scored with heat made for the wicked......and puddles of thick blood, the coppery scent of what seemed coagulated vitae so strong it captured the room in it's rank stench. They would find nothing that would warrant where The Bearer once was, if not perhaps a single item, a trinket which Celene might find powerful in it's simplicity as well as it's message. An tear that she had been given on those first few days, shaped of onyx and polished to a luster, sitting in one of the stagnating pools of blood like a small vessel amidst the seas. A symbol of what knowledge came with, and that no one is bereft of the penalty of wisdom.....despite the trust that one would hold for another.

.......And what of Typhus? The defilement of simple physics would hold for only so long before things were set right.....and he would not stop it when gravity would pull his tattered mass down into the closing hole to darkness. With that withering of the collected essence that had been his last flux of energy, his mind and soul exhausted with his task at hand.....he fell. Fell so quietly with a small sooty smile of muted victory into that mawed ground ground of flaming stone and blood-curdling winds, holding a screaming ring of balesfire that encircled that closing hole to another place....another. time...another step in the path that was his. Not a single sound was given as he looked to the world he was leaving behind.....not a single cry of fear nor terror uttered in what was his darkest path to take, those first few steps along it's road taken with a proud resignation of what he was to do. He was proud even now of what he had done to protect those that may wish nothing of it, seeing but for a moment that rift in the lands betwen where he fell unto and where he had been slam closed with the heavy weight of tonned stone to tonned stone, a permanent seal so close to the Leyline.

Not a single word of regret, only a proud grin from fufilling his duty.....as he plunged into Hell.

[John]

All of it happened with a stunning swiftness that had caught him off gaurd. In all of his life he never would have imagined that he would be lead to a point such as this. To be lead to a point in life where he was faced with a choice so grave. It took all of his mind to pray for the sanctuary against the evicerating winds that sprayed forth from the maw of Hell itself. A manifestation of the tormentous realm, dedicated to the souls of those damned by their own humanity and their own transgressions. The corruption and malice came rushing up and he could almost imagine, or perhaps it was that he could hear it. He raised his emerald eyes towards the heavens and listened to the chorus of curses that rang outwards to his God, to his Beloved Father.

"Even in torment they curse his name," he whispered past dry lips.

Though he felt no fear in the face of this, though his mortal flesh did prickle, his soul stood firm in the wake of the onslaught. The runes forged upon fabric, steel, and mortor. The protection of angels gathered about, his eyes open to their presence. Majestic wings flared forth around the massive hole, their presence overshadowing the sheer horrors that could have so easily gripped those around him. And all he could do was stare at Typhus and watch the man's mind work. He could only watch as the hole began to lessen in its size, in its wake of horror. This man, this mortal man was going to do the unthinkable.

"Greater love hath no man than this, than he lay down his life for a friend. Love thine enemies," those words echoed through his mind and he didn't realize that he was speaking them outloud.

He moved forward, watching Typhus plummet, as time elapsed, the flames licking, the visions of all that was unholy billowing out for all to see, through eyes that were shielded by the holy, by the righteous. Jao turned and considered for a moment. This man was sacrificing himself, and in that moment he knew that this man would need aid, he would need a shoulder, he would need to talk to someone... to perhaps fellowship. -Where Two or Three are gathered, in my name, there I am.- came a calm voice to echo throughout his own mind. And Jao went.

Typhus would not be the only person to go barreling down into the nether realm. He would not be the only one to go into the screaming inferno of all that was evil and depraved. Before that hole began to seal itself for all time.

Jao would go with him.

And the hole closed. The angels wept, the calm departed, and the castle still stood.

[Lillith]

All was errily silent upon GreySeerer land. Within the Darkness her head would raise, the gleam of emerald sweeping about quickly. Her lovely brow would furrow as oh so slowly the raven wonders that were her wings began to spread open, lithe limbs bringing her up to a full stand with intense fluidity. Faiths head would cock to the side, looking oddly birdlike in her mannerisms. A purse of sanguine dipped tiers, a lowering of lids fringed thick with black lashes. hiding away the brillience that was her eyes. Silence abounded. Tick, tick, tick went time.. slipping away second by second, swallowed so keenly by the lack of any sound. Until finally, the silence was broken by a soft chuckle. Crazed snickering wafted from Faith, louder and louder until it was full blown laughter, she dancing beneath the moon, glorious wings and arms spread wide. Yet her laughter was not filled with mirth. Dancing and laughing, swaying and giggling, until there was no more of that. Until she simply crumpled into a heap, and the sound of laughter faded.. changed.

Until the sound drifting through the forest was the sound of soft tears. Faith.. for the first time since her Angel had once again returned only to leave her yet again.. Faith was crying. " Daddy.." A single choked sob seeping out between glossyfeathers of black shrouding her upon the dewed ground. She had felt Moon's passing. Felt it like a red hot knife through her heart. Yes.. Faith mourned.

For all her prostrating, for all her want of his demise at her own hand.. all she'd ever wanted was his love. She'd wanted Moon to love her like he'd loved Hope. She'd tried so hard to gain acceptence.. to gain a gentle hand from her Father, a loving kiss upon her brow from the man. She'd never been good enough. And now.. she never would be.

She cried softly, she cried alone. She would remain there until she heard the call that was surely to come. The Patriarch of the GreySeerer was gone, and it would not be long before the family gathered again. When the whispers came.. Faith would be there.