Elend Venture Posted January 14, 2020 Report Share Posted January 14, 2020 (edited) On 1/11/2020 at 6:33 PM, Rushu42 said: The sun had barely leaked its rays over the horizon when Alderbon slammed to the ground in the middle of the Plaza. He still wore the dramatic cloak from the night before, and his angular crown was fitted around his forehead. Stormlight trailed slowly from his eyes as he examined the scene, noting spots of rough terrain and points of exit. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his Blade. As the light began to warm the rooftops of the sleeping settlement, he let a thin smile twist the corner of his mouth. They would know of the Law soon enough. @Elend Venture Rhode rose a half hour earlier than ordinary upon the morning of the duel, the fabrial clock on the wall reading 4:23. The excitement of the coming challenge that he had suppressed since accepting the challenge bloomed in him to become a powerful fire in his chest, driving him to fight, to kill. "None of that, Rhode, you don't want to end up in the town jail again. Keep it to first blood, as promised." He disrobed and splashed his face with ice cold water from the basin that stood on his nightstand. He combed his hair neatly and put on one of his finest maroon and white suits. It wouldn't do to make a bad first impression on this city. And it would also make an excellent contrast should blood be spilled on it. Rhode strapped on his rapier and dagger, smiling at the familiar weight of the weapons on his hip. He took a short shot of Sapphire to calm his slightly jumpy nerves, as he did before every real duel, and best out of the door, locking it behind him. *** He arrived just as the sky came alight with the the fire of early dawn, seeking out the King. He found Alderbon near the center of the plaza, near a raised pedestal about twenty-five feet wide, smooth and ringed with bronze statues. Cocky and his second arrived shortly after, but didn't exchange any words with Rhode or the King. This must be why Cocky chose here, smooth ground for fighting, a stone pedestal instead of a dueling ring. Practically a stage. Very dramatic, this chap is, he has probably watched far to many heroic plays. Thought Rhode, looking skeptically at the extravagant dais. He bowed before the Skybreaker. "My Lord, it is my honor to be your swordsman in this duel. Be it that you know the Law better than any other existing, I thought it fitting that you judge that our fight is fair and our weapons evenly matched, should it please your Majesty." Said Rhode, drawing his rapier and extending it, hilt first at Alberdon. The other duelist's second walked over with a second rapier, slightly shorter, but with longer quillions and a more protective cup-hilt. As the final minutes before the fight drew nearer, Rhode felt himself grow more and more solemn, but at the same the more elated than ever. @Rushu42 Edited January 16, 2020 by Elend Venture 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted January 16, 2020 Report Share Posted January 16, 2020 On 14/01/2020 at 3:25 PM, Sorana said: Standing up you straighten your suit coat, but leave it open. You say nothing, instead only make a deliberate inviting gesture towards the door, leaving the decision to come along to Sloane. The silent offer is clear, and wordlessly I accept by standing up and stepping forwards for Raphael to lead the way. His coat is neat but open, something I would take as normal for anyone but Raphael, whenever everything seems to be exactly how he wants it, for a reason. Maybe the open coat means he’s comfortable for an air of casualness between us? Maybe he simply was feeling hot in front of the fireplace. “Have fun, I suppose,” I say, my mind back at home within the system we have there. People keep themselves occupied with the little games they play within the system, little skirmishes of cat and mouse, of detective and mobster and cop and politician. Playing roles to feel like they have a purpose in the perfect system of the world they live in. A shallow existence but a purposeful one. Is that why I left? Because I knew there was more to discover? A greater purpose? “But I agree, maybe perfection by human hand really is impossible. But you can’t dismiss the fact that the gods of our existence are capable of much of far more precise actions than we can even think about, and have vast arrays of power to shape things as they are. Perfection is possible, but maybe it’s beyond humans.” 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted January 16, 2020 Author Report Share Posted January 16, 2020 (edited) 4 hours ago, Ookla the Maybe-Existent said: “But I agree, maybe perfection by human hand really is impossible. But you can’t dismiss the fact that the gods of our existence are capable of much of far more precise actions than we can even think about, and have vast arrays of power to shape things as they are. Perfection is possible, but maybe it’s beyond humans.” "If you phrase it like that," you incline your head conceding the point to him, "I have to agree." Your eyes narrow a little when he mentions fun, but you don't comment on it. You are more or less sure, that your definition of having fun might be a little different from his, although the possibility, the thought alone makes your heart beat faster until you reign it in again. Still you move your eyes over his body, notice again that he cuts a very nice figure. He is in good shape, not overly trained, at least as far you can judge with his cloths on. Walking over to the door you open it and step out into the hallway. One thing after the other. Your steps are nearly silent when you walk over to the stairs and then head downstairs again, past the entrance door to another set of stairs. Your brother smiles at you from his oil painting hanging on the wall and as usual you avoid his glance. He is somewhere north, learning, preparing to inherit everything that should be yours. Were you still alive. Would you still exist. You don't know why you even hung his picture up, as if a part of you wants for him to see you walking downstairs into your own realm, into the one thing that is yours and will always be yours. Turning around to him you stop in front of a single door and place your hand on the handle. You leave it closed for now, wait for him to catch up, excitement and a little bit fear mix, while you listen to him walking, while you watch him descend the stairs. His black cloths seem to mix with the deep shadows of the stairs, and while you shift your weight to one of your legs to project a relaxed posture, you can't help but wonder how this will end. He won't turn back not now, not standing in front of a secret, a mystery. And you won't turn back because it's far to enticing to share, to try to make him understand. He is either your doom or he is the crossing to a different way, a shared path and while you would never admit it loudly, there is another reason you make yourself walk by your brother's picture daily. The last time you had a conversation that consisted of more than empty words has been years ago. Edited January 16, 2020 by Sorana 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted January 22, 2020 Report Share Posted January 22, 2020 (edited) The walk downstairs is quiet and filled with unspoken words. One step after the other, I follow Raphael through the winding hallway and down the stairs. This place is quite nice, when I compare it to the other places I’ve seen in Sanctuary. If nothing else screams intelligence, it’s that simple fact. He’s managed to have a place like this, obviously has quite a bit of money, his own secret operations, all while staying anonymous. There was no hushed whispers about him I could hear with my tin, no fearful glances. I’ve never seen anything like it. Where I come from, the powerful ones are known. We pass an oil painting of a man smiling and I watch as Raphael walks past it without a second glance. I pause briefly, wonder who it could be that Raphael would have his painting without looking at it. His previous body? A brother or perhaps a father, if the painting is old? Either way, Raphael’s action show a tension between the painting. We come to a single door and Raphael turns to me, a hand already on the door. I burn tin. His posture is relaxed but I can sense a little excitement. Whatever this is, it’s big. Or is a trap? My paranoia flares up — but no, it couldn’t be. Unless... “So, this is the big moment, huh?” I say and lean against the wall. I cast a long look towards the door. I should leave, I know I should. I should have taken his deal. I know my personal rules when dealing with mobsters, and I’ve broken every single one tonight. All for this moment. For this door. And for whatever’s behind it. Fear is a wavering sensation that I can feel in my core. Images of dead detectives in the dark, damp streets of my city fill up my vision. Curiosity killed the cat. Am I cat? Have I finally, after all these years, dug too deep? But the pull of the door is alluring, magnetic and in my heart of hearts I know it doesn’t matter whether tonight will be my last. I’ve dealt with that risk all my life. I need to know. “I’m ready,” I say with an even and decisive voice. @Sorana Edited January 22, 2020 by Ookla the Maybe-Existent 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted January 22, 2020 Author Report Share Posted January 22, 2020 You wait for him to make his decision, observe him as he leans against a wall, looks towards the door. You can feel the tension in the air, your own excitement, mixing with him considering wether to go on or not. This is a risk, a huge risk for both of you and that fact alone thrills you even more. The big moment, he names it. It is a big moment, there is no questioning these words. It only needs to be a good big moment as well. You wait and wait until he speaks again, his voice firm and even. He will come along and see. Turning around at his decision you open the door and walk into a brightly lit room. Contrasting upstairs the light is cold, and you blink for a moment while your eyes adjust. Taron is standing to the side, already waiting for you. "Close to the big moment." You reply and step inside, your footsteps sounding harsh and loud on the tiles covering the ground. The room isn't large, nearly empty apart from a rack, a table, a basin to wash your hands and a shower, hidden behind some milky glass. "I need you to change." Your voice is matter-of-factly, for once you have no intention to play with him, or to toy with words. He needs to change. And it is not a point you are willing to discuss. You walk over to the table and push one of the two piles of clothing consisting of some pants and a shirt over to him. They are white, spotless and obviously freshly cleaned and pressed. You look him over again, the earlier appreciation gone, replaced by cool assesment of his body. "They are mine, but you are close enough to my size that they should more or less fit." You turn around again, want to be able to see Sloane's reaction to this, to judge how he takes to this change in scenery. Taking off your coat you hold it out to Taron without sparing the man a second glance. He is already there and takes the coat from you before walking away to carefully hang it up. @Ookla the Maybe-Existent 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Rushu42 Posted January 22, 2020 Report Share Posted January 22, 2020 On 1/14/2020 at 6:16 PM, Elend Venture said: He bowed before the Skybreaker. "My Lord, it is my honor to be your swordsman in this duel. Be it that you know the Law better than any other existing, I thought it fitting that you judge that our fight is fair and our weapons evenly matched, should it please your Majesty." Said Rhode, drawing his rapier and extending it, hilt first at Alberdon. The other duelist's second walked over with a second rapier, slightly shorter, but with longer quillions and a more protective cup-hilt. As the final minutes before the fight drew nearer, Rhode felt himself grow more and more solemn, but at the same the more elated than ever. King Alderbon acknowledged Rhode's bow with a nod, and accepted the weapons. He examined them expertly, testing the balance and feeling the edges of the blade. Then he tossed the weapons back to their owners. "I declare these rapiers evenly matched," he said. Quote Sorry this took so long! I had actually written the post last week, but apparently I forgot to actually post it. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Ark1002 Posted January 23, 2020 Report Share Posted January 23, 2020 Quote I really should post 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted January 23, 2020 Report Share Posted January 23, 2020 21 hours ago, Sorana said: You turn around again, want to be able to see Sloane's reaction to this, to judge how he takes to this change in scenery. Taking off your coat you hold it out to Taron without sparing the man a second glance. He is already there and takes the coat from you before walking away to carefully hang it up. The light blinds me as I enter and I remember to extinguish my tin a second too late. I stagger against a wall and cast a hand over my eyes. A trap. I knew it was a trap. But nothing happens, and shapes become clear and evident as I blink a couple more times, finally seeing the basin, Raphael, the white tiles and the cold glare of the light that hangs over us both. I look to the clothes he’s pushed over to me. He doesn’t want contamination, and he seems like a different man now. I know it, that I’ve penetrated into who Raphael is. Into what he does here. One look in those eyes tells me he won’t listen to any protests of mine. I stand up straighter as I take the clothes, looking into his eyes. He saw me blinded by the light. He’s seen weakness. Time will only tell what the outcome of that is. I slip off my pants and shirt and replace it with the medical garb he’s given me. For the briefest moment the scar on my shoulder is visible, small but messy from when my doctor had to patch up a stab wound. The clothes fit well enough, but I feel out of place. There are no shadows to hide in in here. Just the whiteness of the tiles. I cross my arms and pile my clothing into a corner. It occurs to me I’m leaving my gun and knife behind in this in-between room. But I’ve got my hands should anything wrong. I haven’t practised unarmed combat in a while, and I hope I won’t have to use it tonight, but it’s always there. And besides, maybe he will get the trust my action implies. We are both at risk, I know. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Elend Venture Posted January 23, 2020 Report Share Posted January 23, 2020 (edited) 20 hours ago, Rushu42 said: King Alderbon acknowledged Rhode's bow with a nod, and accepted the weapons. He examined them expertly, testing the balance and feeling the edges of the blade. Then he tossed the weapons back to their owners. "I declare these rapiers evenly matched," he said. Sorry this took so long! I had actually written the post last week, but apparently I forgot to actually post it. Quote Oh, it's fine, I took just as long getting back to you last time. And dang, my reply is long. 7 hours ago, Ark1002 said: I really should post Quote You would be welcome to, "Thank you, Your Excellence." Said Rhode, rising and seizing his blade out of the air. As was customary, he didn't speak a word to his challenger. He simply stepped up onto the platform that the other man was already standing upon. "The fight can go anywhere on the platform, but must stay there. As seconds, our job is to decide who's won the fight, and we'll also make sure no one backs out or intentionally kills his opponent. Rember, both of you must stop fighting after the first blood is spilt." Then, with a flounce of a handkerchief, which he promptly dropped, a single word escaped his lips, quiet but sharp and solemn: "Begin." Rhode's heart beat at lightning speed. He heard his blood pounding in his ears as he drew his rapier and saluted. Her long mirror-polished blade flashing out of the plain scabbard soundlessly, heavy but nimble in his gloved hand as he dipped her point down to the left, aligned her blade with his face, and raised her shining hilt high in the air. His opponent did the same, then went into Guardia de Faccia, with the length of his rapier held straight out in front of his body. Rhode fell into a combat stance and moved to a more defensive guard; Guardia de Porta Ferro Stretta, rapier held low in front of him, just left of his leg and pointed at the opponent. The younger man did the most predictable thing, and pushed a thrust directly at Rhode's face. Rhode reacted quickly, stepping forward and to the left of the thrust, at the same time performing a diagonal, wrist-powered cut to the man's temple. The other man hurriedly parried the blow and jumped back, left foot sliding on the edge of the platform they stood on, then regained his balance and adopted Guardia de Faccia again. Rhode advanced once more. He didn't fight like most duelist's these days. His master had fought with an older style, near two hundred years gone-by. Rhode's methods often threw people off in the first few exchanges of blows in a fight. After that they got accustomed to it, but since a fight only usually lasted a few exchanges, it was usually far too late that they did. It wasn't that his fighting was less elegant. It was, in a way, more so, relying more on sweeping cuts and parries, and less on the lunging thrusts so commonly taught these days. He held his sword slanted upward, diagonally in front of him (in a Guardia de Testa) and took a half step forward. The other man suddenly lunged, rapier held stiff in front of him. Rhode parried again, pointing his sword down and to the left, directing the thrust in that direction. But as he did so, the other man rotated his sword into a half-cut at Rhode's neck. Ah, so this chap does know some of the old techniques. Rhode went into a Guardia Alta, rapier raised above him, and caught the blow on his own sword's guard. He then feinted a cut directly downwards toward his opponent, who promptly moved to block, and instead made an upward sloping cut to the man's right cheek, which he had left exposed when he had changed position to deflect Rhode's feinted blow which had never came. Rhode exalted in the contest, flowing through the cuts and guards as the two duelist's fought as if for their lives. And then, it was over, nearly as quick as it had started. His rapier bit into Cocky's face, cutting to the bone and spirting blood as Rhode started to follow the cut with a pommel strike to the temple but suddenly remembered that the fight was technically over. He stepped back as his fellow duelist dropped his sword and covered the cut with his hand. He saluted the chap again, after all he had put up a good fight, and turned to bow at the Seconds. Cocky's second came to get him, talking in a hushed tone that Rhode couldn't pick up. Cocky bandaged the wound with help from his second an looked at King Alderbon. "That man you endorse is a sneaky bastard! He tried to use arming sword tactics on me in a rapier duel. I believe that this voids the fact that he spilled the first blood and that we should continue fighting!" Rhode knew that in reality, how you fought in a duel didn't matter, as long as you had skill and you employed it in an elegant fashion. This man didn't seem to know that however, (he did seem rather new to a good deal of the dueling etiquette) and Rhode was curious how Alderbon would respond. Would he state the real rules? Would he punish one of them? Would he allow them to fight longer? Rhode would definitely not turn down the possibility of continuing the fight, so he remained silent to see what would happen. @Rushu42 Edited January 23, 2020 by Elend Venture 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted January 23, 2020 Author Report Share Posted January 23, 2020 1 hour ago, Ookla the Maybe-Existent said: We are both at risk, I know. Your eyes rest on his scar in the brief moment its visible and then you turn towards your own stack of cloths and unbotton your shirt. The movements are familiar, but today there is something else swinging along with them. For once you aren't alone going through this routine, you have a guest. You can see that Sloane is uncomfortable when he crosses his arms and stacks his clothing in a corner, leaving his weapons behind. You didn't ask him to, but it's nice to see he thinks along. Somehow his uneasyness transfers to you and you focus on changing, hand each piece of clothing to Taron to take it away. You make a mental note that he is most likely burning tin, or at least that he did until he stepped into this room. It's interesting to know and you reach for the reserve still resting in your chest. You didn't use it, there has been no conflict between the two of you so far and while he most certainly is a threat, you hope that you won't need to use it later. Looking over at his weapons you know, that if it comes to a fight, there is no guarantee you will win. Not even with Taron backing you up. Strangly you find, that you care anymore. Sometime between the second glass of wine and inviting him here, you accepted that risk, simply enjoy the thrill and the excitement it brings along. Walking to the basin you clean your hands with alcohol while Taron opens the next door. You gesture to Sloane to wash his hands as well, not commenting on the scar or his allomantic power. Both are interesting facts, but right here and now, they are close to irrelevant. This is about something else entirely. Stepping through the door you end up in a larger room with a large operation table in the middle, more bright lights and racks full off tools, saws, scalpels and bandages. On a second, smaller table next to the wall, you have set several jars full of medicine and anaesthetics as well as syringes and other means to apply them/ get them into the being you're working upon. Just like the room before it is clean, and obviously ready to be used at one point in the future. "This is where I work." You offer in terms of explanation, although it should be easy to guess. "But the nextroom is by far more interesting to you." You gesture towards another door, leading out of this one your eyes never quite leaving his face. He knew you are a doctore, he guessed you are a surgeon. There should be not much surprise here. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Rushu42 Posted January 23, 2020 Report Share Posted January 23, 2020 5 hours ago, Elend Venture said: "That man you endorse is a sneaky bastard! He tried to use arming sword tactics on me in a rapier duel. I believe that this voids the fact that he spilled the first blood and that we should continue fighting!" Rhode knew that in reality, how you fought in a duel didn't matter, as long as you had skill and you employed it in an elegant fashion. This man didn't seem to know that however, (he did seem rather new to a good deal of the dueling etiquette) and Rhode was curious how Alderbon would respond. Would he state the real rules? Would he punish one of them? Would he allow them to fight longer? Rhode would definitely not turn down the possibility of continuing the fight, so he remained silent to see what would happen. King Alderbon had stood silently throughout the duel, watching the fight carefully with hard blue eyes. Rhode was talented, enough so to justify Alderbon's presence, although his spren still burned with indignation at being referred to as anyone's "second". It did not take long for Rhode's rapier to find the mark, sending a line of red blood streaming down his opponent's face. Quickly, the man began to bluster, accusing Rhode of cheating. "No law has been broken," Alderbon stated calmly. "This duel is over." The man's second looked as if he was about to protest, and suddenly Alderbon's Shardblade was in his hand. "If you dispute this judgement, I am willing to resolve it through combat. Otherwise, this man is the victor." He gestured at Rhode. Although Alderbon's expression was calm, danger burned in his eyes. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
kenod Posted January 23, 2020 Report Share Posted January 23, 2020 Nimari sat on a nearby roof, watching the duel, nodding. The fellow was surprisingly good, though that weapon would be horrible in combat against the Voidbringers, or against Radiants. It would likely just shatter on any armor, and the long length would make precisely aiming any stabs a lot more difficult than with a shorter blade. Still, she guessed it worked against unarmored opponents, and it might even be useful against inexperienced Knights, those who hadn't received their plate yet, and were stupid enough not to use their surges, though she suspected that quite a few of those who had surges might find themselves hard-pressed against him. Those weaklings that were the Lightweavers certainly would, at least! Shaking her head she looked at the other Radiant, curious about his talk about the law. Definitely not a Windrunner, in that case. Good, she hated those bleeding hearts. Of course, most Skybreakers weren't that much better, with their insistence on laws. Still, this one had proclaimed himself king, which meant he was at least a magnitude more intelligent and realistic than the rest of his order. Smiling she relaxed, a small knife twirling between her fingers, wondering how he'd react to the loser claiming he had cheated. Talking about an idiot! Trying to continue a duel when the other was better than you, the only way that would end with was with him being killed, as he deserved. She was curious to what the winner would do. She just tell the other to continue, and kill him for his arrogance and stupidity. Of course, she wouldn't have let some inferior idiot challenge her to a duel anyway, she'd have just killed them for offering such an insult. Still, she could understand humiliating them first. It always made dealing with them taste just that bit sweeter. Quote Aren't arming sword techniques with a rapier really difficult and inefficient, given the length and thinness of the blade? Or is this just for establishing Rhode's skill? 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Elend Venture Posted January 24, 2020 Report Share Posted January 24, 2020 (edited) Quote Eh, they are mid-Renaissance Bolagnese techniques (eg. Marazzo, Manciolino, etc.) where arming and sidesword techniques somewhat crossed over into rapier (The other duelist only has rudimentary knowledge of sidesword work and has never actually seen or been in an arming sword fight, so does not actually know what arming sword tactics are). Henceforth the techniques really kind of work for either weapon, though are still rather poorly suited to both extremely long rapiers and extremely heavy arming swords. A medium length yet stiff and broad rapier such as Rhode's is almost perfect for the application. If you want pure arming sword look more at say, I.33, and pure thrusting rapier a mid 17th century document would suit you well. So in the end I guess that Rhode uses a rapier with those techniques because he enjoys a reach advantage over most sideswords and arming swords, even if his cuts are slightly less effective. And for radiants he carries a sword of aluminium more like a cinquedea than anything else. @kenod Rhode wiped his sword with a handkerchief and slid her back into her black lacquered scabbard and nodded to King Alderbon in acknowledgement when the Skybreaker concluded the duel. The other duelist's second agreed meekly soon after. The duelist himself picked up his sword and sized Alderbon up just as he summoned his shardblade. For a moment, the blonde man looked as if to want to fight. After all, his ego and pride were what got him into this in the first place. Then reluctantly, he nodded as well. "I acknowledge that the duel is concluded." He said, sheathing his rapier and storming off with his second. He, like Rhode, knew not to pick a fight with a man so much more powerful than he. Storms, did it feel good to fight again though. It had been far too long since he'd had a sharp-bladed contest with anyone. And he could add one more duelist to his list of bested opponents. People he could have taken the lives of if it were allowed. Rhode feared and hated death. That was why he wished to control it. Death was his to wield when his rapier was drawn. "My Lord," said Rhode. "Thank you for so graciously judging our duel of honor. Is there anything that you wish of me, or shall I return to my dwelling to attend to my equipment?" This man seems likable enough but when he follows the laws so exactly and calls himself King it's probably best to spend as little time as possible near him. He thought but made sure not to give away his feelings as he talked to Alderbon. @Rushu42 Edited January 24, 2020 by Elend Venture 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted January 24, 2020 Report Share Posted January 24, 2020 20 hours ago, Sorana said: You gesture towards another door, leading out of this one your eyes never quite leaving his face. He knew you are a doctore, he guessed you are a surgeon. There should be not much surprise here. I wash the grim off of my hands and enter a larger room. Out of sheer habit, my eyes seem to scan it almost against my will. Like a computer I notice the operating table, examine how everything is kept, how the tools are kept clean with the slightest marks of being used often and how the jars are laid out. The light colours feel unnatural and not for the first time I am reminded how much Raphael is my opposite. A part of my brain clicks — suspicions confirmed. He is a surgeon, if that wasn’t obvious enough. A skilled surgeon, who takes pride in the craft. But with every light there is a shadow. A dark side. And it lies behind the next door. I notice Raphael observing me and I turn to him, before my eyes flick to the door he gestures to. “You are one interesting man, Raphael,” I say. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted January 24, 2020 Author Report Share Posted January 24, 2020 2 hours ago, Ookla the Maybe-Existent said: I notice Raphael observing me and I turn to him, before my eyes flick to the door he gestures to. “You are one interesting man, Raphael,” I say. You incline your head at his words, follow his eyes to the next door. An interesting man. Coming from Sloane it sounds like a compliment. Spreading your arms as if standing on a stage you turn around, wordlessly thank him for the compliment and walk over to the door. "Let's talk about fairytales." You open the door and step through. On the other side is a hallway. To your left a huge glass wall separates several cages from you, to your right is your desk and shelves full of your notes and details of what you've done. At the end of the hallway is another door, heavier than the two you passed through so far. In the first one, a beast that at first glance resembles a lion has rested it's head on it's paws and looks at yout two through the glass, follows your every moment. A scorpion tail rests on the ground behind him, twitching a little, as if readying itself to struck at you. You walk over to the wall separating it from you and reach out for a folder waiting for you on a shelf fixed to the glass. Up close you can see the aons glowing softly, strengthening the cages to prevent any of your creations from breaking out. You pretend to give Sloane some room and see for himself. But still observe him out of the corner of you eye. Each of the cages contains a different creature, all modeled after a being you first saw in a fairytale or discovered in other myths. None of them are human, and when you return the folder after checking on Taron's notes on the lion you walk along the row, take a look at each of them. A little salamander you combined with a bat to resemble a dragon looks more of less good, but sadly the snake with its two heads doesn't even move when you stop in front of its cage. You supress a sigh and don't even bother to check what Taron wrote down this morning when he checked them over. You will have to start anew, maybe change the species until you figured out how to combine everything correctly. The moment another head is involved things end up complicated. Your attention slips away from Sloane when you squat down in front of the cage and take a closer look. Your stiches look fine, there is no outer sign of an infection, and you know that even if Taron had missed it, you wouldn't. So maybe it's simply the issue with the additional head. Maybe you should try to add another pair of legs first. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted January 25, 2020 Report Share Posted January 25, 2020 It’s hard not to stare as I enter the hallway, peering at the monsters through their cages and the massive glass wall that separates us. Fairy tales. The topic is a memory from our conversation on the upper floor. Fairy tales. I knew they had to fit in this somehow. And surgery - how could I not put two and two together? I watch the creature with a lion head and a scorpion’s tail, and I vaguely remember some children’s story with a beast of a similar description. One by one I stare at the beats, each seeming to be a marvel of surgical skill. “I have one question, Raphael,” I say, ideas forming and combining with other thoughts as I grasp this truly new piece of information. He makes myths. Takes animals and melds them together to make creatures spoken about in fairy tales. He’s no mobster, I realise, the hypothesis now coming to a certainty. He works alone, in secret. And now he’s let me into to the fray. Taron said I was the first one to come here. “You said you thought fairy tales had an element of truth in them,” I say, but don’t keep my glance off of the creatures. The doctors where I come from can cure some sicknesses, can mend a wound and leave a scar if it’s surgery, but that’s the extent of their abilities. I feel like I’ve been trying to see beneath Raphael’s surface, and now I’ve just discovered the first layer. “But here, you’re creating the fairy tails. Which means the fairy tales are lies. And you’re making them into truths.” But there’s something more, isn’t there? I can tell it from the secrecy, from the fact that Raphael’s actions imply more than even mixing animals together. They imply danger, serious crime. I can tell it from the heavier door at the end of the hallway. My eyes dance off of the glass and burning tin only slightly I spot him observing me secretly. He’s cautious. It’s remarkable. He’s creating new animals. But such dedication, and yet I see no humans. Surely after whatever he did with himself, working on himself, he never thought to practise on other humans? Deliberately I move my eyes away from the cages and towards the heavier door. @Sorana 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted January 26, 2020 Author Report Share Posted January 26, 2020 "That is an interesting point you bring up." You straighten again, lean against the class of the cage you were inspecting. He is looking at the next door, realized that your true masterpiece isn't waiting in this room. "Does the fact that I use fairytales and myths as inspiration, negate the fact, that they have a kernel of truth hidden in them?" you answer his question with one of your own and make a small outward gesture with your left hand, indicating that you don't think so. "The kernel of truth and what I create can be the same, but there is no need to. Many fairytales are about teaching a lesson, a moral and not about depicting details that can be verified for a hunded percent." Deliberatedly you push yourself off the huge window and slowly walk over to him. It's an interesting question, but at the same time it forces a connection, where none exists. In fact you doubt that any of the creatures existed natively in the regions where the story was heard off first. "But it leads to another question, that is maybe even more interesting. Imagine one of them would return to the place their tale originated from." You stop in front of him, turn slightly back to the cage and smile. "I would need to ensure that they can reproduce and survive without external interference for longer periods of time. But if these parameters are met, I could be the one who adds to the truth of each tale." A fascinating thought, although you know, that it's unlikely. These creatures are your training subjects. To ensure reproduction alone would take you years. You take another step towards him, a thrill running through your body when you stand close again, as close as you stood on the street. But this time he is here, deep down in your lair. He isn't afraid anymore, staring at your creatures in fascination, although his attention is drawn by the next door shortly. You know he suspects that something even greater is waiting behind there and you lift a hand, attempt to run a finger along his scar. Crude work, that one. You would have done better. "What do you know about my name?" your words are quiet, nearly too quiet to be heard, but you suspect that he will understand them anyway. It's a last hint, the last clue before you will turn around and open the last door. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted January 29, 2020 Report Share Posted January 29, 2020 (edited) On 26/01/2020 at 3:29 PM, Sorana said: “What do you know about my name?" your words are quiet, nearly too quiet to be heard, but you suspect that he will understand them anyway. It's a last hint, the last clue before you will turn around and open the last door. His name. My wind whirs with everything he’s said so far, trying to process the input. Truth, fairytales, questions, morals, and yet everything snaps back into place when he asks that question. I focus on what he means, breathe slowly as he walks close to me, don’t move as his finger touches the shoulder where my scar lies. Raphael. “The old painter and architect, from renaissance times.” It seems fitting for Raphael to refer to an artist who shares his name. But what else meaning could it be? I remember the surgical tools, glance back at the animals and their mixed parts. For a moment I wonder why? Why someone would want to change an animal like that. But I stop, that comes close to breaking yet another rule. Never try to understand the perps. Do that too many rimes and you might become one. Raphael. I search my mind for anything that could work. Replaying conversations, gunfights, alleyway brawls. Raphael. Then it hits me. The surgical tools, the fact Raphael is a doctor. I glance back to Raphael and try my final answer. “The ‘shining one who heals’,” I say, barely a whisper, remembering a sermon from long ago, back in my home alley. “The archangel.” Edited January 29, 2020 by Ookla the Maybe-Existent 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted January 29, 2020 Author Report Share Posted January 29, 2020 (edited) 41 minutes ago, Ookla the Maybe-Existent said: “The archangel.” Irritation flickers over your face when he starts talking about the artist, but he knows he is off, as he falls silent again, thinking, before he finally speaks again. The 'shining one who heals'. His voice is barely a whisper and yet it causes a smile to spread on your face when you see that he finally understood. "Raphael." You say your own name in agreement and take a step back, turn around to the last door, the last and final secret your are willing to unravel tonight. You chose the name when you woke up one morning, your hair lighter, your eyes different. Your body lean and taller than before. When you opened your eyes after an endless sea of pain, you knew, knew with every inch of your body, that you had changed. And as your body had changed, so had you mind. You looked for a new name, for a new place for yourself for a way to escape the endless tests and the way your father appeared to test you every single second. There were only two options - embrace what you had become or end the farce right here and now. And you decided to embrace it. You stepped up and you started to learn and to study. You know that you are a long journey away from your father's skills, but you are good enough to create fairytales. Soon you will be good enough for the rest. You will finish what your father started, you will take his masterpiece and you will change it. And then, then finally, this body will be yours and yours alone. It won't be your father's masterpiece paraded around for entertainment. You won't be the unlucky heir that burnt to death. You will be yourself. Raphael. You opened the door, push it opened for him to see the next room. Stepping inside you quickly walk around another operation table and standing behind it, facing Sloane you extend your arms in an exxagerated, presentative gesture. On the table in front of you is a man, facing towards the ground. Large, white wings protude out of his back. You closed the skin on his back, but it's still swollen and red, the seam black against the rose and red skin. There are other scars, signs of other operations where you replaced his knee with a new, fresh one, or one on his arm where you corrected an old fracture that never completely healed. You eyes never leave Sloane while you watch him, observe his reactions. This is it. This is the last secret you are willing to part with for today. Now it's time for his judgement. Edited January 29, 2020 by Sorana 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted February 1, 2020 Report Share Posted February 1, 2020 (edited) The door opens and I take a deep breath, take in the surroundings as I step forward. He makes a preventative gesture I see the attraction. I know it’s importance from the setup, from guessing the meaning of Raphael’s name, from how no other door leads out of here except the one I came from. This is the end of the path. The core, when I’ve peeled all of the other secrets away. When was the last time I’ve investigated something for my own sake, my own curiosity? I can’t remember. I’m not getting paid for this, and yet the reveal seems so much more satisfying than any amount of dollars could be. Well, not any amount of dollars... The Archangel Raphael. I can see it’s relevance, staring at the being before me. Human testing. Involuntarily I find myself hesitant as I step forward, realising the extend of what Raphael’s done, and I stuff my hands into my pockets to hide the fact they’ve begun the slightest tremble. Wide-eyed I see all the healed lacerations, the swollen skin and seams, that hold this creature together. The test subject, an innocent man? I can’t tell, but I wouldn’t be surprised. The red stands out, a bloody contrast against the white sterile environment. He’s taking humans. I blink again. Taking humans, replacing their parts, changing them up to make them fit his artistic vision. His vision of perfection. Or, as close to perfection as possible. I walk around the table slowly, observing every part of this experiment. This... angel. Our conversation seems to small in comparison to this. I almost feel like laughing, a knee-jerk reaction. Of course. He wants perfection, and what is more perfect than an angel? The contrast between divine perfection and human error seems so prominent now. The wings fused to the human flesh, the other scars where I can only imagine Raphael has done his own perfecting. But, it will never be perfect. It’s a human attempt, a caricature of true divinity that lies on that bloody operating table. With hesitance I look at Raphael and smile. It’s almost like I can see through him, see through the mystery that drew me to him in that bar. It’s messed up, I know that. This whole situation is messed up, but I’ve seen ‘messed up’ before. I’ve seen mutilayed corpses and while this is a special case I don’t feel any disgust, or horror. He did say he was a doctor. I look at him. A body that is not his own. Surgically altered, but it would have to be incredibly changed for him to not consider it his own body. Incredibly changed, and yet no scars. No precise marks of any sort, like I see on his angel. It’s almost perfect. I know it’s not his own body and it still fools me. I’ve been thinking that he operated on himself. But while his angel is impressive, his own body seems to be crafted more skilfully. Someone else? “Why show me?” I ask, my smile dimming, turning fully to his direction. I take a step forward. “Why invite me here, to see your work?” I entertain the idea that like the common serial killer, he craves attention, but obviously that’s not it. He’s operated with secrecy for a long time, I know. So, why me? Time to take a stab in the dark. “And where is the other surgeon? The one who...” I nod at Raphael, gesturing to his body. Either I’m wrong or I’m right. @Sorana Edited February 1, 2020 by Ookla the Maybe-Existent 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted February 1, 2020 Author Report Share Posted February 1, 2020 Your eyes never leave Sloane as he slowly walks around the table, his eyes wide as he takes your creation in. You lower yours and step back, give him the space to admire, to take a close look should he want to. It's not perfect, but it's close. As close as you are able to get with your current skill and knowledge. When he finally stopps and looks at you, he smiles and you allow your lips to smile as well, enjoy the way he looks at you, how his eyes move over your body. You know what he sees, the white cloths, the long blonde hair carefully held back by your braid. The way your eyes lit up when you smiled as well and of course the slight curve of your beautifully crafted red lips. Straight bones support your flesh and muscle, sinew and skin and while you trained, while you perfected it, you always had a very good base to work with. Why him. He asks the question as if it is the last riddle, the last information he misses, only to add another one, easily opening the door and inviting reality. Of course he would ask. Even someone without any medical knowledge at all has to be able to come to the conclusion, that you didn't create your body yourself. There is no way to create your own body. He is turned fully towards you, waiting for a reply while you try to figure out what to say, how to shape your thoughts into words and finally decide to answer them one after the other. "He isn't here." You say, a shadow flickering across your face. "He is in the north, looking after his own." It's vague and you know that he won't be satisfied with this reply, but you aren't willing to discuss your father with him. Despite the years, despite everything, you can't bring yourself to it. Not now, not today. Instead you make sure to force some lightness into your voice when you continue to speak. "I could ask the same." You say, proud that your voice isn't shaking at all. "Why did you decide to follow?" @Ookla the Maybe-Existent 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted February 9, 2020 Report Share Posted February 9, 2020 On 01/02/2020 at 8:15 PM, Sorana said: Instead you make sure to force some lightness into your voice when you continue to speak. "I could ask the same." You say, proud that your voice isn't shaking at all. "Why did you decide to follow?" A vague answer, a shift of the subject. I make a note of the second surgeon, the confirmation in my suspicion. Looking after his own. His own children? Creatures? That’s the thing with these types. The deeper you get into who they are, the more unpredictable they become. Ironically, understanding them more only makes you realise how little you know. I dislike that realisation. And I dislike unpredictability. “Because I was curious,” I respond simply. But it was more than that. I can’t stop myself from continuing. “And because I couldn’t figure you out when I saw you. I couldn’t ‘place’ you, couldn’t tell what type of person you are. You stood out, and that mystery drove me wild. And as I peeled back the layers things only got more interesting. You had my attention as soon as I saw you. I had to know who you are. What you do.” I stand up straighter. “It’s part of my job description, after all.” 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted February 10, 2020 Author Report Share Posted February 10, 2020 18 hours ago, Ookla the Maybe-Existent said: I stand up straighter. “It’s part of my job description, after all.” It's part of his job description. His words hurt, feel like sharp pieces of glass shoved under your skin. You should have known. It's always the same, there was no reason for this to be different. Instead you search and search, yearn for something you know you will never obtain and you end up walking into the same pit. Every. Single. Time. Bringing him here was a risk and now that all cards are played, you can only watch his in awe, wonder when you had started to loose it all. "And are you satisfied?" You ask, your frown invisible as you turn away from him, fetch a blanket to cover your creation. Your hands grip the fabric too tight, but you can't help yourself. Lifting a hand you study it intently, look at the sinew and muscles moving beneath your skin. When you peel a layer away it only gets more interesting. You are nothing but a hand, an object. Something people study and then discard. It's why you care. Why you keep them all around, why you try to ensure your creations live. Because they are the only ones that care if you are around. "Did you sate your curiosity?" Iritation leaks into your voice as you continue. You know that you shouldn't, that you'd better stay silent, but the words spill out of your mouth any way. "Or do you need me to balance on a stool and juggle some apples?" 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
I think I am here. Posted February 21, 2020 Report Share Posted February 21, 2020 On 10/02/2020 at 3:29 PM, Sorana said: "Did you sate your curiosity?" Iritation leaks into your voice as you continue. You know that you shouldn't, that you'd better stay silent, but the words spill out of your mouth any way. "Or do you need me to balance on a stool and juggle some apples?" His first actions are subtle, but I’ve spent years catching the subtle. I see how he holds the blanket, even without tin, but when he speaks the emotion betrays itself. I hold still. It must have been the comment about my job. The falsehood. He doesn’t know wasn’t paid to be here. That I came here, broke my own rules to see who he was. And maybe he doesn’t have to know. He revealed himself, but I don’t have to do. Subconsciously my hand snakes into my pocket to a find a cigarette to take the edge off. But there’s nothing there, only the empty lab coat. I force myself to look at Raphael. Balance on a stool and juggle some apples. He’s an experiment. A product of whoever did the work on him. And now he does surgery himself. He doesn’t live in his real body. I look down at myself. It’s late at night. I should be tired, but I’m not. I haven’t felt tired since I died years ago. And came back, somehow. “This isn’t my original body, either,” I say, leave it in the air. Let it be another thing that connects us. He isn’t the only one. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
+Sorana Posted February 23, 2020 Author Report Share Posted February 23, 2020 (edited) On 21.2.2020 at 0:40 PM, Ookla the Maybe-Existent said: “This isn’t my original body, either,” I say, leave it in the air. Let it be another thing that connects us. He isn’t the only one. Unvoluntarily your eyes move over his body again, look for scars, for any obvious signs of the process. There aren't any. You need a moment to place his answer, it makes no sense at first, seems like he simply hung it in the air for nothing. Only then do you realize that maybe, maybe he told you this because you are missing some small detail, a little piece of information that makes it impossible to see the whole picture. Exhaling you finally take your eyes away from him, remember the beautiful skin of his body from when he changed. There no scars. None, but the one he has on his shoulder. "They did a good job then." you reply, your voice even again, calm and sure. You like it when your voice sounds like that, it makes it seem as if you actually were in control. But you aren't and you have no idea what to make of this change in topic. "I picked you, because you were a bright light in the tavern. Admit all those drowning their sorrows and fears your behaviour spoke of a sharp mind." You fall silent don't add the rest of it. It had been a gamble and you lost it. There is no point to spill that part as well. Slowly you walk over to him, close the distance until you can easily reach him with your hand. "You wear that body well Sloane. It suits you. A beautiful body, for a beautiful soul." Edited February 23, 2020 by Sorana 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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