Solar Space
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Solar Space
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Posted 2024-10-01 16:04:23
There wasn't much she was doing right now, walking around boredly since she had already done her morning chores and her wolves were just wandering. She surveyed the sky as she walked, in her own world as the wolves trotted beside her. As usual she did not expect to be approached by anybody; the wolves tended to keep people away from her. That didn't mean she was immune to the occasional approach. She paused as the white wolf let out a tired whine. "White, love, come on. Do you need to be put away for a bit?" She asked the wolf gently, turning and patting the large creature's muzzle. The white wolf whined again. Kissimi sighed and touched her wrist to the wolf's nose. The wolf seemed to evaporate, a silver chain-link bracelet with a small white pawprint charm forming around the woman's wrist. |
 432302 - Semi On Break #127877 |
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Posted 2024-11-02 04:47:35 (edited)
Maybe the Akuloth was a bad idea after all, he thought as he casually took a sip of his drink. The liquid dark and almost scorching hot, it burned a line down his throat, just a hair's breadth away from being painful. He restrained a wince and killed the cough that wanted to rise, merely leaning back into the booth's padding, sweeping a quick glance over the rest of the people whilst keeping that one in the corner of his eye. Or disrupting that one dealing, that could have done it, but he couldn't have let it go through. They —his family, kin of blood and bone; his people, brothers and sisters in life— were no better than the Daeva who lived millennia ago, with their sacrifices and bloodstained traditions. And who died for it all, their kingdom torn asunder, he thought with a spark of vicious satisfaction, even though he had not yet been born and would not have for several thousand years. As Archon returned his gaze to his drink, carefully keeping the agent within his sight, he became aware of something else. There was a sense about one of the patrons, seated at a table between him and the agent, that just barely pricked at his senses. The vague sense of something odd, something so quiet and low that he wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. It felt familiar. It couldn't be. Subtly, he rose more advanced tastebuds on his tongue, peppering the ridges of his palate with them; the sort of thing cats smell-taste with. Tilting his head up, sucking in a slow breath through his lips, he tested the air; acting as if he were just looking at the ceiling for a moment. The electrical taste-smell-sense flooded in, overwhelming all other scents, settling heavy and fresh and sharp on the tastebuds. Chaos and lightning. A reality bender indeed was sitting near, watching him and the Foundation agent. A powerful one at that. The implications of it made Archon tense and will away the new tastebuds. It was surely coincidence, except the agent, but he did not like it nonetheless. The presence of a Foundation member was far from good, it meant something had caught their attention, those watchers who had their fingers on the pulse of the world; and a reality bender could easily wreck havoc on the entire city if need be, if they were with the Coalition or, Ion forbid, the Insurgency. It was enough for him to take a deep gulp of his drink, feeling the warmth travel down to his stomach, and start gathering the few things he had walked in with. The thing was definitely not expensive enough to make him stay around, and he had a sinking feeling that the agent was there for him. The agent perked up and shot their watch a long glance, when he started putting things in his bag. The reality bender was discreetly looking between him and the agent, something nervous and cautious and oddly concerned in their eyes, shoulders tensing as the moments passed. The sound of the zipper closing seemed horribly loud to Archon's ears, amplified by his uneasiness. As he stood up, the agent brought their phone close; an expensive one, he noted absently, walking past the reality bender. He was far too suspicious to let that gesture be anything other than informing a teammate of his movements, agents of the Foundation rarely hunted alone, and he needed to leave before the pack arrived. A merry jingling of the door's bell, and Archon was slipping onto the sidewalk, scanning the streets with careful eyes. A few steps were taken before he clocked the suspicious car, parked on the opposite curb; different enough from normal vehicles to catch his attention, subtle enough that a civilian wouldn't notice. The sight made him pause, watching for motion inside the darkened windows, committing it to memory. It could be coincidence, just an unmarked police car, but he was not about to take chances. Giving one last searching look at the vehicle, Archon turned away and began to walk at a decent pace, passing the doors and windows of businesses as he goes. The shimmering veil of life fluctuated with every motion, the death and renewal of every bacteria, clinging to artificial fabric; the brightness should be a comfort, yet he could not relax. Looking through the sparse crowd, at the coldly pale gleam of winter light off towering buildings of dead metal, watching for anything out of place— A hand lands on his shoulder. Instantly, every nerve screams to whirl on the threat and retaliate, break the hold to snarl through an inhuman throat and the flash of far too many teeth. The conflicting instinct, just as ancient and powerful as the first, shrieks to bolt and lose the follower in the confusion of alleyways so that none may find him if he does not want to be found. Mind frozen between conflicting urges, his steps falter before stopping entirely as he very nearly turns on the person, a ragged snarl rising in his throat. Damn his paranoia. "Apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." It was the voice, and the feel of teeth sharpening in his mouth, that jolted him back to his senses, making him force it all down in time before he can do anything foolish; and he twisted his head around to look over his shoulder. Instantly, his stomach dropped and ice chilled his blood, and Archon went a little too still as he met the person's gaze. The suspicion in the agent's eyes sharpened —keen as sunlight off a knife, wariness to be used as a weapon— at his reaction; small as it might be. The grip on his shoulder tightened, so faintly he was not sure if it was imagined or not, before releasing, assured that his attention was caught. "Oh it's okay, my bad for not paying attention." Archon said automatically as he half-turned, mind racing for escape routes; something fluttery in all the wrong ways, like a live wire coursing with electricity, beating in his chest like a second pulse. He flashed a smile that didn't show any teeth, trying to relax the tension in his shoulders, and spoke before the agent could respond, "do you need anything?" Please say no, please say no, please say no, let me leave please— "Yes, I do. In fact, you might be able to help us out." There was a particular look in the agent's eyes, the edge of a tone just slightly off, that gave the meaning of their words a different weight; testing the waters, a subtle threat. A prickle of unease shivered up his spine, and he leaned back slightly, reminding himself to not act like he was about to run. After all, a normal person wouldn't be suspicious, not yet. "'Us' ?" He asked as he moved a half-step away from the agent to see them better, carefully keeping his tone lightly curious, as if his stress did not spike at the confirmation of there being more than one. Logically, it was only sensible for a teammate to be near, however that did not stop him from glancing about, wary. "A coworker of mine, we split up to get things done faster. Actually, that's what I needed help with." The agent's tone was meant to sound calm, the leading edge just hopeful enough to encourage assistance, but all he could hear was the strained undertone. Pretty good at this— not good enough though. "Oh, I see," Archon said mildly, trying to focus on the person before him whilst figuring the best way to run, it would be closer than he would like with at least two agents on the move, but he had gotten out of tight situations before and could do so again. A thought occurred to him, and he posed a question, a teasing thread woven into his voice. "With your....coworker? I'm not too sure I can help if they're lost or something." "Nah," they drawled, the tension in their face relaxing the slightest bit, replaced by a wisp of what may have been amusement. The coldness lodged in their eyes never even flickering, the agent flashed a smile at him, lacking in feeling as if it were only a courtesy rather than a true expression; to which he responded with the barest quirk of the lip, polite and utterly fake. The damn agent could probably see it, just as he saw through their guise. "They're fine. I just need to speak to you about a few things." "Okay," the lighthearted strand unraveled from his tone, settling back into a semblance of normality, trying to keep the jittery shake of burning panic from his voice. "Then shoot." "We work for a private investigation agency," their eyes shining with a renewed focus as they undoubtedly watched for any sign of alarm, they paused to glance around for any bystanders close enough to overhear, before continuing with a practiced cadence that only came with having spoken it many times before. "and we need to know if you've seen, or heard about any unusual happenings lately; perhaps any people that seem suspicious hanging around?" Only a Foundationer could pull off that mix of feigned cluelessness and knowing; them and their manipulation tactics. A brief silence fell between them as Archon paused, a thoughtful noise humming in his throat as he reached a hand up, readjusting his bag's strap; acting as if he were trying to remember any unusual activity. Taking advantage of the reprieve he was given, he let his eyes stray to the space behind the agent, determining if he was fast enough to bolt past before they could react. Although it might be better to put a barrier between us, he thought as the details took clearer form, better to act like they were armed and ready to resort to force rather than the opposite. "I don't think so, not very eventful here I'm afraid." He finally said, forcing his focus back on the agent, making a vaguely apologetic expression, moving back another half-step to disengage from the conversation. "Really? Never?" The agent questioned sharply, the suspicion in their countenance grew and they moved forth a step, closing the distance he had made. "we've received reports about...activity near here. You have never noticed anything?" "Hey, I try to stay out of trouble," he said with a quick step back, tensing again and narrowing his eyes, finally allowing some of the wariness to leak into his posture and voice. "and also, get out of my space. Please." The agent seemed to realize they had made a misstep, relaxing the tension in their face and moving back a few steps, palms lifting slightly before dropping down again. "I apologize for that, I didn't mean to get tense like that. Nor did I mean to accuse you of anything. It's just—" A quiet sigh slipped from their mouth, and the agent averted their eyes to the open street, watching for something for a long moment; long enough for him to take another step back, restraining the urge to allow his teeth to sharpen into fangs. Then they turned back to him, speaking with a softened tone. "It's just that this is rather important, and I got frustrated at a lack of leads. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, and for that, I'm sorry." The air shifts slightly at the same moment he goes to respond, something different dancing at the very edges of his senses, so quiet and vague that it could only be noticed in his hesitation; it felt rather familiar but with the agent and their intensely focused eyes on him, he could not take much time to consider the implications. Even so, there was a faint flicker of why do I smell lightning— "Excuse me, am I interrupting something?" the reality bender asked, appearing from behind the agent to stand with their back to the open street, tone suggesting they absolutely knew they were interrupting something. All he was able to do for a moment was stare in surprise, attention catching on the loose posture and nervous tension in their face, as if they wanted nothing more than to run to the hills and never look back. The agent was observing the newcomer, eyes hardening into that cold calculation again, something vaguely relaxed in the set of their shoulder; the confidence of a wolf looking upon a coyote at the same watering hole. The reality bender faltered under the combined attention, hesitation creeping into their bearing even as they met the agent's eyes, fingers tightly interlacing in a gesture that seemed more instinctive than purposeful. The feeling in the air strengthened into a thrum, so gentle that it could have been mistaken for a number of things, yet it held a particular quality that was not naturally made. If Archon were to judge by the tensing of the agent's shoulders, the gleam of something approaching alarm in those eyes, they picked up on it too. Figures. "...I...I, uh, sorry about that." they coughed, eyeing the both of them nervously, starting to fidget as they worked out the rest of their sentence. "I might have, uh, overheard some of what you two were talking about...?" "Go on, please." Was all the agent managed to say when the words trailed off, and while Archon was glad that their focus had been taken off him, there was more than a small part that felt rather sorry for the poor soul. In truth, he had not seen a person so nervous whilst speaking to another, almost looked like they were going to faint. "I think I might've seen something," the reality bender started, voice steadier than it had been moments ago, as if remembering that the agent was not about to draw a weapon on them. "It...it just looked...looked odd, a bit suspicious. Kind of, I'm really not sure if it was but since you're probably in some kind of position to do something I figured—" "Was it nearby?" The agent gently cut off the rapid flow of words, turning ever so slightly towards the reality bender, sweeping a quick glance over their form; watching for any suggestions of sudden movements, for any sign of hostility. "I...uh..." despite the lack of true words, there was a trace of utter panic in their voice, as if realizing that they needed to answer the question. They hesitated on their reply, eyes flicking to and meeting his own for a fleeting moment, something resolute and oddly kind solidifying in there before they looked away. "...yeah, yeah it was, actually." "Hm, " the noncommittal sound slipped from the agent's throat, their eyes tracking the reality bender's carefully, any initial softness leaking away at the hesitation. "That's good for us, then. Two leads, finally." The implications were made clearer when their eyes flashed to him, steely and watchful, before returning to the reality bender's. "It's cold out here," the agent spoke into the tense, wary silence that had briefly fallen on the three of them, the words more off-topic than what Archon had been expecting, and more sudden for that matter. The reality bender flinched, and they paused, considering, before continuing on. "we've been standing in the middle of the walkway for a bit. I believe the three of us should take this...talk elsewhere. So that we can't be interrupted." "No!" blurted the reality bender, complexion going somewhat ashen, their panic-drenched exclamation ringing out like a gunshot. "No?" The agent questioned, tone dangerously calm, as they swung their gaze to the reality bender; pinning them with the full weight of the stare of a person used to being obeyed. They shrank away in response, the smell of lightning building, but otherwise held their ground. "I, it's— it's not— I mean, uh, I mean nothing against you—" "This is important." The look in their eyes would have made a lesser person run, their voice so utterly frigid it was glacial, any training or wariness apparently not enough to keep the facade from starting to crumble. "Lives depend on this. I understand your hesitation, however I mean you harm to you. We all just need to have a talk." "No. I'm..I'm sorry, really. But I'm not going anywhere with you," the subvocal hum of something other intensified, humming gently against his skin, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The reality bender paused and slanted a look at him, almost seeming to brace themself, then broke the contact before continuing, voice unsteady under nerves but holding a firmness beneath. "And neither is he." Archon slid back a step. "Is that so?" The agent raised an eyebrow, straightening their posture as they seemed to examine the reality bender, eyes riveted on them; although he had the distinct feeling that some of the attention was directed towards him still. "I was not under the impression that there is much of a choice here. Withholding information is a crime, and all that is needed is perhaps an hour of your time to have a discussion among ourselves, that's all." Another step back, grit crunching under his heel. Instantly the agent's attention snapped to him. They jerked forward, as if on reflex, and made a motion to grab him. "Hey—!" The reality bender flinched back, he moved to bolt. The energy in the air snarled the warning crackle of electricity, the humming swelling and gaining a roughened edge until all he could hear was static, the suddenness of it stilling his movements even as every nerve of every muscle screamed to run. All he was able to do was stare in confusion and rapidly mounting concern, abruptly realizing that being as close as he is to a panicking reality bender was perhaps not the best idea. There were no small amount of reality benders in the world, yet it was rare to encounter one quite so powerful. Reality twisted and warped around the bender, nearly buckling with the force of their emotions and will, moving in ways that his mind struggled to interpret. Eyes straining to their utmost, Archon met the sparking gaze of the bender, barely able to focus with his vision going blurry from sights no human should ever be able to see. There was something resembling terror in their eyes that echoed the panic fluttering in his chest, but wilder in ways that outmatched anything he had ever seen, nearly a physical force unto itself. The sight would have made any normal person back off, but he was not normal himself, and so he held the gaze unflinchingly until the bender turned their eyes away. He slanted his eyes away from the epicenter of the warping reality, his head practically pulsing with a ferocity that nearly drove him to his knees from the strain of looking upon such a thing, the smell of lightning and ozone deepening so that it drenched the very air. Then the agent moved back, staggering on unsteady legs, hand flashing to their hip, saying something he could not hear with the static building to a fever pitch until he could nearly see it. A quick motion and a flicker of light reflecting from metal and the reality bender recoiled, shying away from the blurry object grasped in a white-knuckled grip. And the world flashed white. Gravity inverted and twisted in on itself, the ground folding out from under his very feet, shadows searing through his straining vision and light darkening to nothing, everything rushing and tumbling around each other as the fabric of reality stretched to its utmost, and he felt like he was caught in the currents of a river that never was and always is. He couldn't tell if he was screaming or thrashing, could only feel stardust on his skin and hear the unearthly singing of stars that pierced his ears and hurt, seeing only flashes of galaxies and worlds spinning around him in blinding twists of impossible colors and too-quick-too-strange motions. The fabric of reality stretched to its utmost and then, and then— Snapped. Then darkness. It was cold and heavy and cramped and repulsive, odd shapes all around and a pungent stink that made him want to vomit —as if the blinding headache, the afterimage of things no human should see, didn't— and he was trapped and needed to get out. |
Empyrean Expanse #145605 |
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Posted 2024-11-16 05:55:28
Clattering of objects moving, striking against each other and thunking against the walls —Walls why are there walls and why does it smell so bad— sliced through the angry buzzing in his ears and the sound of his panicking heart and where was he— Then the racket of sounds and the intolerable weight of something was gone and he hit something smooth and heavy and solid, dull pain pulsing through his face and a too-sharp spike of agony searing through his head, and he felt the thing above— below— no, above, give way even as he was pushed back half-down in the mass he had fought against. Flesh shifted and twisted and strengthened as he lashed out at the thing above wildly, claws gouging into metal and a inhuman sound tearing from his throat as he hit not-immovable barrier and it flew up with a clatter and a burst of color and light, and he was thrashing still to get free of the stench and confinement and whatever else was in there, clawing at the edges of what he could see in a flurry of motion. Then he dragged himself out, features instinctively settling back into something much more human, and he stumbled on legs that felt like nothing, trembling so hard that he almost fell even with the steady surface beneath his shoes and feet, too dazed to properly take anything in yet too high on terror and adrenaline and everything else to not look around him, to not try and stuff the jittering energy under his skin for fear it would be noticed by the wrong people. He stopped and leaned against a wall —alleyway? Was he in an alleyway and why— once it opened up, once he could see things through eyes still blurry, and he squinted out into the air and what he thought was a street and tried to make sense of it all with a brain too scrambled to process anything. And, quietly, vaguely, he wished that he never got out of bed that morning. |
Empyrean Expanse #145605 |