Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat ā€” the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

0
followers
follow

Cassiel Fuhen

"Do not fear the evil in your heart. Embrace it, cherish it, and all that was evil will remain good and pure.

0 · 1,454 views · located in New York City, New York

a character in “Somewhere Between the Lost and the Forgotten”, originally authored by Nephilim, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description




Image




Image

Angel of Solitude; Endless - Everlasting|| Roughly translates to "Angel of Endless Solitude" or "Everlasting Angel of Solitude."
āŒˆMy name? Well, I don't know exactly what my parents wanted it to be, but I am not going to complain. I was named after an Archangel, from what my father told me, and I consider it an honor to be as such.āŒ‹




ā™ Theme

Blue October - Angels in Everything
Halou - Today
Kelly Clarkson - Dark Side
Gabrielle Alpin - Human




Image




Image
āŒˆWe are born into a world not knowing of what it contains. All you can do is stare it in the face and take whatever life throws at you one step at a time. Even if the world is dark, there is always some light that shines against it. Not all is always what it seems.āŒ‹




āŒˆNicknameāŒ‹
Cass: Like her father, she sports the nickname, though it's pronounced more like kaws. Siel: A play on the last part of her name, usually only one person calls her this: her mother. Cassie: There are only a handful of people allowed to call her this, and that usually only extends to her family.

āŒˆAgeāŒ‹
17; Born a few months after Kirito

āŒˆGenderāŒ‹
Female

āŒˆRaceāŒ‹
Nephilim

āŒˆRole:āŒ‹
2nd Witness | Daughter of Caspar Falls and Tsukiyo Fuhen | Cousin to Kirito Fuhen

āŒˆFace Claim:āŒ‹
Yuuko Kanoe | Tasogare Otome no Amnesia




Image




Image
āŒˆI've been told that I could pass for my aunt's daughter, though I don't really see the resembalance. I think I look like my mother most of all, though even she seems to agree I look nothing like her. Well, they do say never judge a book by its cover!āŒ‹




āŒˆHair ColorāŒ‹
Eggplant Purple

āŒˆEye ColorāŒ‹
Alizarin Crimson

āŒˆSkin ToneāŒ‹
Ivory

āŒˆHeightāŒ‹
5'7

āŒˆWeightāŒ‹
130

āŒˆPhysical DescriptionāŒ‹
Cassiel looks like neither parent, something that is often pointed out to her on a daily basis, especially if she is out with Kirito. She inherited nothing of her mother's umber brown locks, nor her father's crimson sheened hair. Her hair, appearing a deep black, is reminiscent of an egg plant in color. There are deep hues of purple coursing through her hair, giving it a rather midnight sheen to it. The dark color often highlights the quality and color of her eyes, causing them to compliment each other in a way that is innocent yet, seductive. If one were to peer closely, under direct sunlight, you might be able to see strands of crimson flowing through her hair, giving it the impression of being almost illuminated. Her hair is fairly long, almost as long as her father's, falling down so that they graze the middle of her thighs. She doesn't usually fix it in any particular way, preferring to leave it down, or occasionally in a loose half tail. Her bangs are cut in a fashion similar to her aunt. They hover just above her eyes with a few longer strands falling on the sides of her cheeks. They are usually cut in a choppy manner so that they do not interfere with her sight. It is this trait alone that has often been speculated that she could be Kazehana's daughter.

Her eyes are perhaps the closest thing she inherited from her mother. While not appearing the dark, carmine brown, her eyes are somewhat brighter, perhaps the combination of her father's honeyed ones mixing in with her mother's. Some have described it as an Alizarin color, a mixture of red and purple, while others have stated they are reminiscent colors of the sunset. Her eyes are large, expressive, and always convey what she feels. She doesn't hide behind them, and if anything, can often lead to her disadvantage. There is a sort of innocence about her eyes with a hint of something wise and knowing. It could be a trait of her father, or perhaps more of her mother. She thinks nothing more of it really. They are accented by thick, long lashes that almost brush the tips of her cheekbones, giving a lumiescent glow and highlighting the colors of her eyes. The exert a certain kind of warmth to them that most people cannot help but be drawn to them.

Her skin tone is a mixture of her mothers and her fathers. While not as pale as Tsukiyo, and not quite as tan as Caspar, there is a mixed balance that creates something of a milky tone with hints of peach coursing through. Hues of light pink dust her cheeks, giving her some color to her face, which is otherwise unblemished. Perhaps ivory to a soft sand color would best describe her complexion. Unlike her mother, Cassiel possesses a body that she is constantly trying to hide. It is rather curved, full, and a bit on the annoying side. Like her aunt, their is air of attractiveness about her that she is a bit ashamed of. Mainly because it draws negative attention that she doesn't need, and if it were not for Kirito, well we'll just leave it at that. Her height tends to accentuate some of these features as she stands taller than her mother by three inches.




Image




Image
āŒˆI want what my parents have. I think that might be a little too far-fetched, but to have something close to it. I want that warmth, that acceptance that it doesn't matter what you are so long as you are loved for who you are.āŒ‹




āŒˆPotential InterestāŒ‹
None at the current moment: Cassiel is immune to the notions of love. Not because she doesn't believe in it, but simply because she doesn't really seek it out. She isn't like her mother, who only sought to fill her life with books before meeting her father, but being what she is, she is hesitant to allow herself to fall in love with someone. Nephilim live a long time and if she were to fall in love with a human, she would die of a heartache if that person ever left her. For Cassiel, it's a one time thing. She wants only one person for the rest of her life, something like her parents actually.

āŒˆSkills
āŒ‹
    ā˜… Cooking || One doesn't simply grow up the daughter of a great chief without picking up a few things from said chief. Because her mother hardly (if ever) cooked, most of the cooking was up to Caspar, whom Cassiel took often to helping. As a result, she has learned most of his recipe's and can replicate them almost exactly as they are. She actually wants to become a chief, however; being what she is, it has become more of a past time than anything and hasn't really thought upon that in awhile.
    ā˜… Songstress || Something about Cassiel's voice tends to be soothing, calming to the point that one temporarily forgets why they were mad or angry in the first place. This skill comes in quite handy, especially in regards to her cousin Kirito. She used to sing for him as a child, when Alamgir first appeared, to calm him down and help him accept who he was. Though Kirito has better control over Alamgir, there is a certain song Cassiel will still sing to Kirito to remind him that he is still Kirito.
    ā˜… Martial Arts || One does not grow up around Aunt Kazehana without picking up a few fighting lessons not only as a means to protect herself, but also to be strong enough to do so. She is a natural in the Wing-Chun style of martial arts, having decided to study that form. She is proficient and capable of holding her own and will only fight with someone if she has no alternative choice. She would rather avoid fighting altogether, however; she knows that it is impossible due to the demons and err's in the world.

āŒˆAbilitiesāŒ‹
    āœ  Healing || Having Caspar as a father, and Tsukiyo as a mother, and being a watcher, Cassiel has inherited both of her parents ability to heal. Her ability, coupled with the fact that she is Caspar's daughter, is far superior than her mother's was. She can mend deep wounds without it taking a huge toll on her as it once did to her mother and she is able to mend broken bones, however; that does take a large amount of energy to do.
    āœ  Pyrokinesis || A nifty little trick inherited from her father. She inherited his ability to create and control fire at her whim. Though she doesn't display it, at all, she is in control of it and can produce small balls of warmth in the palm of her hand. She practices from time to time to keep up her control, and even uses it to keep herself warm during the winter time. She hasn't told her parents about this ability, however; she is fairly certain that they know regardless.
    āœ  Shield || A very peculiar ability that neither parent knows where it stemmed from. This particular ability acts as a barrier of sorts, preventing demons from possessing her, no matter the rank. It is an ability that has been kept on a whisper between the two families. After all, it was discovered when she was training with her Uncle, Asmodeus. He had tried a possession technique, however; it failed.




Image




Image
āŒˆScars are nothing to be ashamed of. They tell a story that can only be told silently. Whether you accept those scars, accept that person for everything they are, perhaps not all will be lost. And do not tell me you have no scars. We all have them.āŒ‹




āŒˆOther:āŒ‹
  • She calls her grandfather "Popo Haya". No one knows exactly where she got the name from, but she's called him that instead of Grandpa. Some of the clinic patients find it funny, which confuses Cassiel a bit, but she shrugs it off. It may be due to the fact that it sounds like she is saying "Papaya", but other than that, she doesn't see what is funny about it. It's her endearment term for her grandfather, so that is what she is sticking with.
  • She tends to have nicknames for all of her extended family except her parents who are just "Mom and Dad". For Asmodeus, she calls him Uncle "Dei-Dei" pronounced like Day-Day. She finds it easier that way. For Kazehana, she calls her Aunt "Nana". The last person she addresses is Kirito. She tends to call him either Riri or Kiki. Mainly it's just Kiki though. It is usually used as a term of affection.

āŒˆHabits
āŒ‹
    ā˜ Lip-Biting || This is something that Cassiel does on a daily basis. It is a subconscious thing that she does, however; she doesn't do it to the point where she'll puncture the skin. It's more of a way for her to collect her thoughts and calm her nerves, especially if she has a lot on her mind. She also does this when she is nervous about something or cannot focus on one thing or another. She is gaining control on this and hopes to kick this habit soon as it irritates her at times.
    ā˜ Reading || One doesn't grow up with two book nerds without picking up their habits. Cassiel enjoys reading just as much as her mother does, however; it isn't always the usual tome or spell book. She enjoys reading other works of fiction such as works from J.R.R. Tolkien down to poetry written by Edgar Alan Poe. She enjoys spending her free time reading to the children of the clinic where her mother used to work and where her Popo Haya works.
    ā˜ Humming || Cassiel likes to hum. It's something she picked up as a child when her parents were gone and she was left to silence. Since silence can be a bit overwhelming for her, she started humming as a means to keep herself calm and unafraid. At times, she'll start humming at the most random moments, which is slightly comical as she could be in conversation with someone and just start to hum a tune.




āŒˆLikesāŒ‹
    įƒ¦ Snow || Having an internal heater is something Cassiel is grateful for during the New York winters. She is able to keep herself warm without having to wear too much clothing, and she enjoys being able to play out in the snow. She enjoys watching the snow fall in little flurries. Something about it almost seems captivating to her and she is always trying to catch them on her tongue, however; they always melt right before they can due to her warmth.
    įƒ¦ Lemonade || It is perhaps one of her favorite beverages of all. She doesn't like lemonade made by manufacturer's simply because they come out too sweet. Not that she doesn't like sweets (her dad makes the best cookies), but when it comes to lemonade, she wants that bitter taste that lingers in the back of her throat and causes her face to pull. She makes her own lemonade because most of the drinks she's had always come out too sweet.
    įƒ¦ Rain || From the small drizzle to the raging roar's of a hurricane, Cassiel loves rain. The sound it makes when it taps against the rooftops, the way people run for shelter when it pours, down to the way it caresses her skin, she enjoys it. The calming sensation it brings to her is a welcomed bliss and at times she'll run outside just to enjoy a rainshower. She would be the crazy person standing out in the middle of a down-pour being drenched with a smile on her face.

āŒˆDislikesāŒ‹
    āœ˜ Fish || She doesn't like fish. At all. Something about the way they float and gap open their mouths creeps her out immensely. She also refuses to eat it, even if it were the last dish on earth, she will refuse it. She doesn't like the taste, nor the smell of it and once again, it has something to do with the eyes. Even if a fish is turned into sashimi, she will not touch it. It might have to do something about a gold fish when she was a child...who knows.
    āœ˜ Coffee || Something she picked up from her mother actually. Cassiel doesn't like the taste of coffee and will literally gag on it if she were to consume it. Not even all the sugar and sweetner can cause her to drink it. She does love the smell, though it's usually the smell of the freshly ground beans, not the actually drink itself. The smell is a bit too strong in her opinion and she'll stay away from coffee shops in the process.
    āœ˜ Doubt || She doesn't like it when people start doubting themselves. It bothers her to no end and she will try everything in her power to make them feel better. Doubt only brings people down and keeps them from reaching their true potential, and Cassiel wants others to see that they can do whatever it is they set their minds to. Because of this, she tends to believe that the worst in people is merely their doubt and she wants to bring out their light; their potential.




āŒˆStrengthsāŒ‹
    ā™¦ Friendship || It's kind of hard not to be Cassiel's friend. She produces a natural warmth (that isn't from her pyrokinetic talent) that seems to draw people to and near her. She takes the time out of her day to just sit and listen to whatever it is someone has to say, whether it's negative, positive, or just something they want to get off of their chest. She doesn't judge them, and only gives her opinion when asked for it.
    ā™¦ Watcher || Being a watcher is one thing. Being the daughter of a watcher and a fallen angel who were among the ones to help save the world is another. Both of her parents taught her to control and manifest her powers from a young age, something she embraced wholeheartedly. Since doing so, she has a great amount of control over her abilities and continues to practice them almost everyday.
    ā™¦ Kind-Hearted || Do not let this fool you, although it is a strength, it can also be considered a weakness. Kind to a fault, Cassiel accepts anyone and everyone as they are. She has no desire to change who a person is and believes that if they want to change, it should be their decision. No matter who a person is or may have been, she accepts them fully and understands that not everyone is perfect. Though that may be, she does try to help people see their potential and perhaps at least start them on a path to change should they desire to.

āŒˆWeaknessesāŒ‹
    ā˜Æ Acceptance || Cassiel, despite knowing a lot of the world, tends to accept people no matter who they are. And that can be a bit dangerous. She believes that there is good in everyone and every thing, causing her to place her trust in those who would otherwise take advantage of it. She tries her hardest to make others see that not all is evil, and that, no matter how hard things seem to be, there is always a brightness that shines through.
    ā˜Æ Kirito || Her cousin is her major weakness. She loves him (platonically) so much that it hurts her to see him constantly struggling with his (literal) inner demon. She wants nothing more in the world than to help him accept what he is. Because of this desire, she can always be seen at his side when they are together, and should someone ever try using him as a bargaining chip, she would, without hesitation, give herself over willingly. He has suffered enough and she doesn't want him to be so any longer.
    ā˜Æ No || Sometimes, Cassiel just can't say no. She cannot help it, especially if it's her friends or family asking her to do something she'd rather not. Because of this, it has caused a bit of worry for her parents. She has tried to resolve this problem and is trying to learn how to say no, but she'll feel bad in the end and just give in and say yes. This can be a bit of a problem and Cassiel truly is trying to correct this weakness of hers before it lands her in hot water.




Image




Image
āŒˆI do not believe that all that is dark is evil. I will show the world that, no matter how dire things seem to be, as long as we believe we can over come it. We shall prevail and shine a light through the dark.āŒ‹




āŒˆPersonalityāŒ‹
Kind | Compassionate | Warmhearted | Stubborn

Cassiel was raised in a loving home. As such, she turned out to be much like her father and mother. Kind to a fault, Cassiel is accepting of anyone and everyone, something that causes her mother (an introvert by nature) to worry about her. Cassiel knows the dangers of what she is, but that does not shadow her thoughts in darkness at all. If anything, it causes her to become determined to prove that not all that is dark is evil. She makes it a point in her life to be as kind to people as she possibly can, because a smile is worth something to someone somewhere, not matter who it is that gave it to them. She is extremely generous, willing to offer a stranger a meal (shared or not), or helping someone out in anyway she can. She is the type to give something without the expectation of receiving something. She does what she does because she wants to, not because people deem it morally good. She is friendly to anyone she meets, even if they give her the cold shoulder, she will not take it personally.

Compassionate by nature, Cassiel is always willing to render her aid when needed.




Image




Image
āŒˆMy parents loved me, they still love me. I couldn't have asked for anything more, nor would I want anything more. They gave me the best childhood of my life, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.āŒ‹




āŒˆHistoryāŒ‹
HISTORY GOES HERE




Image




Image
āŒˆIn darkness, light grows; in light, darkness grows. To find a harmonious balance between the two is to find a peace that will enlighten the mind and make us realize who we truly are.āŒ‹



So begins...

Cassiel Fuhen's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image
"The day is beautiful with it's twilight setting, but somehow, there is something sad to it. I wonder why that is?"




The chorus came to a still as the last note faded into the air. The sound of chairs rummaging around as students picked up their bags filled the silence. The students began bidding each other good-bye, exiting as quickly from the school building as they could. Cassiel pulled her back-pack over her shoulders, adjusting it so that it was comfortable, and smiled at one of her friends to her side, chatting animatedly about everything and nothing at all. When she reached the front gates of the school, she bid them good-bye and began the short journey towards her aunts home. She would often wait there with Kirito for her mother or father to pick her up.

It didn't take her long to reach the home of Kazehana and Asmodeus, her Annunaki Aunt and Demon Uncle. Cassiel was aware of exactly who her family was, down to her own heritage. She had learned from both of her parents, and she had embraced it as much as her mother had when they were about the same age. Her mother would often tell her the story of how her other Uncle, Morgan, made the ultimate sacrifice in order to save the world from being destroyed. She would never know Momo, but regardless he was still part of her thoughts when they happened to run amok. She shook her head softly as she reached behind a flower pot, digging through the soft dirt before finding the silver key and smiling.

"Kiki! I'm home!" she stated, allowing her voice to be carried through the house as she set the keys down on the table, shutting the door behind her in the process. She placed her back-pack on the other side of the couch and began rummaging through the kitchen, trying to see what her aunt and uncle had in their pantry. "Do you want anything to eat? I can make something real quick!" she asked, peeking over the fridge, frowning slightly. She knew he was home; his aura wasn't that difficult to pin-point. She sighed softly when she received no answer and instead settled on making just a sandwich. He was probably concentrating on something and it would be best not to interrupt him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK



Image

Image



Kirito started when he heard his front door open and shut, and then heard Cassiel's voice floating to him. He sighed. His nose was still bleeding, and was not showing much sign of stopping. "You'd think with a demon for a parent I'd have gotten some of his regenerative abilities, but no-o-o-o." he grumbled to himself. He tilted his head back, holding a wet towel to the bridge of his nose. If Cass was here, he might as well get her help. But with his head tilted back, he couldn't really see where he was going. Again, not his smartest move.

He rounded the corner too early and smacked into the wall. After the loud thump and his subsequent hitting of the floor, he groaned. "Ouch..." He sat up, rubbing the back of his head as his cousin rounded the corner to see what was up. The look on her face was far from amused. But with the blood running from his nose, he wasn't really surprised. He grinned sheepishly at her. "Uh, hey Cass...d'you think you could fix my nose for me? The bleeding won't stop."


Cassiel had been sitting on the couch, eating her sandwich in peace when a thumping noise caught her attention. Immediately, she was up, the sandwich on the floor, and rounding the corner to where the bathroom was. She stared, blinking at him owlishly as he lay on the floor. Her face then morphed into frown. She crossed her arms over her chest as she peered down at him, much as if she were a mother scowling at her child. Shaking her head, she released a slow sigh before making her way over towards the kitchen counter. Grabbing a paper towel, she made her way back to Kirito's side.

"Do I even want to know?" she stated, placing the towel on his nose and grabbed it with her index and middle finger. "I have to pop it back in place before I heal it," she stated, giving a sympathetic smile before pushing his nose back into place. Once the cartilidge was re-aligned, she concentrated a small bout of energy to her hand and ran it across his nose, pulling the torn flesh back together and patching the injury. Satisfied with her work, she gave a nod of approval before sitting back on her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

"It was the hair again wasn't it?" she stated, frowning in the process.


Kirito let out a yelp when she shoved his nose back into place. When she was done, he wiggled his nose around. At least it didn't hurt any longer. He stood up, washing the blood off of his face before he answered her. "When is it not the hair? It's not like it matters. If I really cared what the jocks thought of me, I'd have dyed my hair black a long time ago. Assholes." He sighed, stretching out his neck. His body was sore, and he'd probably be bruising in the morning. He then seemed to register that his cousin was at his house. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

The next person in through the door was Kazehana, who had been let off work early, which really wasnā€™t too hard to finagle on the days she worked at her dadā€™s clinic. The days at the research hospital were a little more stringent, but she was a damn good doctor and everyone knew it, so she could swing even that when necessary. Sheā€™d have to quit soon, thoughā€¦ most forty-year-old women did not still look like they were no older than twenty-five, which was the point at which sheā€™d simply stopped aging. Tsukiyo was the same. Nobody believed Kiri was her son, anymoreā€”most often, they took him to be her kid brother, something she occasionally teased him about.

Kneading the back of her neck with a hand, she sighed through her nose at the knot there. Damn paperworkā€”sheā€™d have to get Asmodeus to massage it out later. Now there was an ideaā€¦ but she dropped the train of thought for the moment and picked up on the very last statement of the conversation going on between her son, who was laid out on the floor like heā€™d been decked, and her niece, who was apparently healing the damage. ā€œHit the wall again, Kiri?ā€ she asked conversationally, showing absolutely no concern for his predicament. Hell, sheā€™d inflicted worse on him herself, when teaching him martial arts as her father had taught her. ā€œHey Cass. Donā€™t listen to him, heā€™s just cranky. Youā€™re as welcome here as you were yesterday.ā€ She ruffled her sisterā€™s daughterā€™s dark purple locks, the color a near-match for her own, save the slight hints of red that she must have picked up from her flame-haired father.


"I came by to see how you were doing. Every time I let you out of my sights, you always have a fresh set of bruises," she retorted to Kirito, just as Kazehana entered the home. She smiled at her aunt and stood up, after resetting her hair back into place. She gave her aunt a hug in the process and settled back to the couch, picking up her, now useless, sandwich. "If by wall you mean fist, then yes," she stated, answering Kazehana's question. She sighed as she threw the half-eaten sandwich away and leaned into her hand.

"And of course Aunt Nana! Mom and dad are constantly away so I have to keep myself busy doing something, right? And besides, Kirito needs someone to watch over him, doesn't he?" she stated with a bright smile. There was a hint of playfulness behind that smile of hers, after all; it was fun to tease Kirito sometimes. She wouldn't take it too far though, and most people wouldn't believe that Cassiel was even capable of teasing someone, given her kind nature.


Kirito groaned when his mother asked him about hitting the wall. But when Cass beat him to answering, he glared at his cousin. She just couldn't keep her mouth shut, could she? "And then I ran into the wall, it certainly didn't help. And if I get beat up, it's your fault." He told his mother. It was only partially true. Sure, he inherited his hair color from her, but he also could have just walked away, which he didn't.

The shadows in the hallway twisted, Asmodeus stepping out of them. He was a bit surprised to see both his wife and his son there, but, he supposed he shouldn't be. He looked over at Kirito. "What, did you hit the wall again?"

Kirito glared at his father. "Will everyone stop asking me that? And would it kill you to use the front door like a normal person, Dad?" As chuckled. "Not when we know it's the most plausible situation, kid. And I'm not normal, so, yes, it would." The demon walked over to Kaz, sliding his arms around her waist. "You, my dear, are tense. Work wearing you thin again?"


Kazehana raised an eyebrow at her child. ā€œA fist, huh? And you call that my fault? You, kiddo, have all the tools at your disposal to deal with that on your own, weird hair or no. I was beating people off Tsuki from the time I was twelve.ā€ She shrugged, but offered him a smile all the same. Her son took after her in more ways than coloration, and she well knew it. He had a temper, and would pick even the fights that he couldnā€™t win. It was the same personality trait that had once had her roundhouse kicking an angel in the face, a story she had not told him yet but might have to sometime in the near future. ā€œWellā€¦ I suppose the other fools are pretty messed up, too, and they donā€™t have such a nice cousin to look after them.ā€

She offered a hand, pulling him up off the floor with ease that could only come of supernatural strength. There was a time when she would have flown into a rage and gone to beat up the offending nitwits herself, but adults beating up teenagers was oddly frowned upon, no matter how much the little punks deserved it. She trusted her kid to handle things his way, just like she trusted him to ask for help when he really needed it.

Her husband appeared then, stepping out of the shadows in the hallway, and she smiled at the exchange, and then wider when she felt As fold himself around her. He seemed fond of the gesture, and she was definitely never going to complain about it. She snorted, though, at the question. ā€œWearing me thin? Please, I slay demons on the weekend. Work is just tedious and documentation tightens all my muscles up.ā€ She made a face, but it didnā€™t stop her from leaning back a little into his chest. You could always help me with that later, you know. Nothing works quite as well for loosening up as rigorous physical activity. Trust me, Iā€™m a doctor.

She glanced over at the other two. ā€œI think Tsuki and Cass are supposed to be back tomorrow, right? Youā€™re welcome to stay the night if you want, Cassiel.ā€


Cassiel nodded her head in agreement with Kazehana and smiled at her cousin. "Exactly. It is why I am here. And yep, mom and dad will be back tomorrow. I think they said they were..." she paused, thinking for a moment. Where did they say they were going again? Egypt? "They were in Egypt. Mom said she might have stumbled upon something but she hasn't said anything otherwise," she stated with a shrug of her shoulders. Her smile brightened when Kazehana mentioned she could stay the night with them. She was silently grateful for that. Though she visited them daily, being at home alone with the cat (affectionately named Mango) wasn't exactly how she liked spending most of her freetime with.

She was sure Mango had it out for her, the way his eyes would glisten as he hid behind the door. A shiver went down her spine at that thought. Mango was an evil...evil cat. No wonder Asmodeus didn't like them. "I'd love to stay! I can make dinner!" she stated almost enthusiastically. Caspar, the most amazing chef in the family, had passed on this ability to her, and she was willing to cook anything they wanted. "Any recommendations?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image
Image


āŒˆIs my fun over already? How sad.āŒ‹



Bartram drummed his fingers on the table top, Akeldama snoring loudly from the awkward position she was in in the chair next to him. Khalid was late. No matter, he would show. In time. He glanced over at his 'sister'. The albino girl had one leg thrown over the arm of her chair, her head falling back over the other arm, her arms spread wide. A string of drool ran from her mouth as she slept. Bartram scowled. "Akeldama. Wake up." He said harshly. The girl snorted, but did not respond. Bartram had to refrain from rolling his eyes. How did he get stuck with such an idiot? At least she did her job. Usually.

And so, in the shrouded darkness of his office at the police station, Bartram waited for Death.


And Death waited for no man. Or so it was usually said. Khalid, on the other hand, seemed often to find himself waiting upon the whims of others, in this case, the man in front of him in line at the convenience store, who could not seem for the life of him to make up his mind about what brand of cigarettes he wanted. If anyone had asked Khalid, he would have said that they all killed just the same, but nobody really bothered asking Khalid for his opinion on anything. One person had, once, but he hadnā€™t seen that person in near on a millennium. Or was it half of one? Heā€™d lived so long it all sort of blurred together.

Which was perhaps why he wasnā€™t bothered by things like early and late. Everything would come in its time, as it was destined to do. Even this small frustration was determined to be long before the world began. There was certainly nothing he could do about it, and heā€™d gone past the point of even really wanting to, he thought. At last, it was his turn at the counter, and he paid for the items in his hands before making his way to the police station. The security there knew his face by nowā€”the cover story was that he was an informant for Bartram, probably on gang or drug cases, judging from the strange mark on his eye. Most presumed it to be a tattoo. It was close enough.

He knocked, and then swung open the door without waiting for a reply. As heā€™d expected, Akeldama was sleeping. Hence the reason for his stop at the convenience store. Without any discernible type of expression on his face, Kal set a plastic bag down on her stomach, trusting that the smell of processed sugar would wake her. Food tended to do thatā€”Famine was truly a bottomless pit of consumption. Heā€™d filled his arms with her favorites, though he didnā€™t bother asking himself the reason. Even a twisted, sick smile was a smile, and he preferred them to misery. That, he would bring in due time.

So he slid into the chair across the desk from War, and blinked slowly. He said nothing. He rarely ever did.


Bartram watched silently as Khalid placed the items he'd brought with him on Akeldama, who snorted again, and then blinked her eyes open after sniffing a few times. She looked down at the items on top of her, and then flopped her head back so that she was staring at Bartram and Khalid upside down. She looked confused for a few seconds, and then, her eyes went wide and she smiled. She flipped herself over quickly, pastries and candy and chips flying off of her in the process. "Ka! Dama was waiting for you!" she told him in a sing-song voice. She then looked back at the food, and her attention was taken -she immediately grabbed the closest thing and began to shove it into her mouth after tearing it open.

Bartram sighed through his nose. Truly, this was testing the limits of his patience. He locked eyes with Khalid. "I need you to pick something up for me, Khalid. It's about time we reunited with our brother Conquest. I trust you'll be able to find him?"

That caught Akeldama's attention. "Ka's going to see Gir?! Dama wants to go, too, Bart! Can Dama go, please, can she go?" She had perched herself with her knees on the seat of the chair, leaning on her arms, looking like an overly exciteable puppy. "No, Akeldama. You and I are to stay here. Khalid is going to bring Alamgir to us." Akeldama crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks. "Dama doesn't think that sounds like fun...Dama thinks Bart is a butt." This time, Bartram did roll his eyes.


Khalid suppressed a flicker of mild disgust at Akeldamaā€™s behaviorā€”gluttony was simply a part of her nature, and she could not be blamed for it. They were not like others, who might have even the illusion of choice. What was to be, would be, and there was little point in getting worked up about it. He told himself this so that he would not hate. Hate them, hate the world that had placed him in this position. Hate God and his mother and his father. He couldnā€™t quite erase the fact that he hated himself, but he could work around it.

ā€œI will find him,ā€ he replied to Bartram, nodding his head slightly. Technically, none of them was properly in charge of the others. Not even Conquest was meant to lead themā€”they were simply supposed to do their jobs. But he left the planning to Bartram, having no taste for schemes himself. ā€œWhat happens after is not for me to decide.ā€ Destiny was the final arbiter in their lives, and even War knew that. It was what gave them so much power.

Standing, he took his leave, retracing the path heā€™d taken in not five minutes before.


Despite her sour mood, Akeldama waved and yelled after Khalid as he left, waving at him. "Bye, Ka! Bring Gir back soon, Dama wants to see him!" This was then followed by the sound of Bartram's voice saying shut up.




Kirito, on the other hand, was outside. He never really could explain it, but he loved night time. He was on the roof of his house, Cassiel still inside with his parents. The sickening, familiar feeling of something lingering just underneath his skin was there, and he didn't really like to be around his family during those times. The first time Alamgir had ever appeared, he'd destroyed the house and put his mother in the hospital. It had taken almost everything his father and uncle had just to stop him, and that had been when he was five. He didn't dare think of what he'd do now. He sighed through his nose, ignoring Alamgir's poking at the back of his mind.

Give it a rest, you're not getting out.


It was onto the roof, then, that the presence suddenly appeared, Khalid arriving in a crouch and straightening to his full height thereafter. In his hand was a scythe, the pole black and lacquered, the blade long, curved, and glimmering sharply silver. His garments were all black as well, from the fitted sleeveless vest to his dark pants and the long gloves that ran halfway up his biceps. In comparison, the stark, bone-white of his hair and the ghostly pallor of his face and right shoulder stood out in sharp, almost luminous relief.

ā€œConquest,ā€ he pronounced dully, nodding with the courtesy one equal gives another. ā€œIt is time now.ā€ Time for what, exactly, he did not say.


Kirito sat up sharply when some random stranger just appeared on his roof. "Who the hell are--" He never made it through his sentence. His purple eyes widened as they turned red, his hair gaining streaks of white, before it lost its color altogether. "Well, Deathy! How've you been? Been a long time since I've seen you. You didn't happen to bring old Barty with you, did you?" He cracked his neck, his smile only widening as he felt Kirito struggle underneath.

Sorry, kid. It's my turn, now.


Khalid blinked slowly, unsurprised at the sudden appearance of Alamgir, though Deathy was a new one. Not even Akeldama called him thus. ā€œNo,ā€ he replied to the question, still in a monotone. ā€œWar wishes you to go to himā€¦ and to Famine.ā€ He shrugged slightly. ā€œI am only here to facilitate.ā€ It was evidently easier for the part of this being that was a Horseman to surface in the presence of the others, particularly Bartram. The effect was mutual, of course: all of them were strengthened in one anotherā€™s presence, and Khalid himself was feeling the effects, what with Alamgir standing right there. He just didnā€™t revel in it.

Cassiel froze, dropping the spoon in the pot in the process. A shiver went down her spine as she felt an on-coming cold sweat form across her forehead. She glanced over towards her aunt and uncle, both of whom were retired on the couch watching the television. They hadn't felt the shift in the air, otherwise the both of them would have been off faster than a bullet train. Instead of causing unnecessary worry, the food already done, Cassiel excused herself, using the excuse that she would take Kirito his food and eat with him on the roof. She quickly gathered his plate (but not too fast), made haste towards the roof of the home, and left the plates somewhere convenient. She knew this aura, this shift. It could only mean one thing, and only one thing.

"Alamgir," she spoke, spotting her cousin in his white-haired form. Her eyes traveled to another white-haired male, and her eyes narrowed slightly at him. She didn't know who this person was, and whoever he was, it was obvious enough that his presence alone had brought forth Alamgir. "Alamgir, bring Kirito back. Your presence is not needed right now," she spoke, her voice unnaturally calm, her aura flaring just slightly. Alamgir was not a good sign for her cousin. He was destructive, and if left unchecked, he could destroy the entire block. For the time being, the other male did not matter. Kirito was all that mattered right now, and she wanted to bring her cousin back before harm befell him.

If she had to, she would use that ability to call Kirito back to her. She would sing for him just to bring him back, to show him, to remind him. Her eyes traveled back to the other presence, something sending sparks in her skin. There was something odd about him, as if she'd known him before, but that was impossible. She had never seen him before in her life, however; it was still there, a sense of familiarity. "Kirito will go nowhere with you. He is my cousin, and he's staying here," she stated towards the male. She was usually a non-violent person, however; much like her aunt was towards her mother, Cassiel is fiercely protective of Kirito, and will not let anything happen to him. That includes shedding her gentle demeanor and taking up something more ugly.


Alamgir raised an eyebrow as Cassiel appeared. "Now there's a face I haven't seen in a while. And I will be going. Kirito is not coming back, my dear, not for a while. And you can forget about your little trick with the song. Deathy here sees to it that it doesn't work." Alamgir jerked his thumb in the direction of Khalid. "Come on, Khalid. It's never smart to keep Bartram waiting. He gets so impatient."

He was stopped, however, when he came face to face with another white-haired being, this time, Asmodeus. An amused grin split Alamgir's facial features. "I think not, Alamgir. I would advise you to give me my son back."

"Oh, I think daddy-o's angry. Sorry, pops, no-can-do. I can't simply ignore a summons. Bartram is far from what you would call a pa--" It was Alamgir's turn to get cut off, as his right eye turned purple, and his hair gained a few purple streaks through it. The boy frowned. "Now is hardly the time for this, Kirito." He covered the side of his face. "Oh, now is definitely the time for it, Alamgir."

It was clear that, at the moment, neither of them were gaining the advantage. The combined influences of Khalid and his father and cousin kept it an even playing field for them.


Kazehana wasnā€™t far behind Asmodeus, frowning when she noticed that Alamgir was present. She didnā€™t fully understand what happened to her son when he was like this, but even that first time, she hadnā€™t fought him. She might be a violent, impulsive individual, but the one thing she could never do was truly hurt her family, especially not her only child. Perhaps it took a mother to love Alamgir, because he didnā€™t make it easy, but love him she did all the same. That didnā€™t exactly make her happy to see him. Deep blue eyes took in the scene, landing on the one unfamiliar figure present. ā€œWhat? Do we know the grim reaper now?ā€

That actually got a small smile from Khalid. ā€œNo, Lady. Not quite. But close enough.ā€ He spoke the word Lady as though it were a title, and indeed it was, because he if nobody else knew that he was looking at the Woman of the Apocalypse. It was evident enough, given what her son was. He could have strengthened the pressure of his presence, but he did not. Bartram told him to retrieve Alamgir, but if Alamgir could not be taken, Kirito could be left, because it was not Kirito that was wanted. It was the tiniest of delays, but it might prove to be important in the fate they all shared.

The decisive stroke, it turned out, descended from the sky. Kazehana was the first to notice it, out of the corner of her eye, about to retort to the ghostly-looking young man before them. It was oddā€”she could sense very little power coming from him at all, as though he were invisible. But from the look of him alone, there was something deceptive about that. There was little time to contemplate it, though, as a star seemed to detach itself from the sky and fall, only it grew larger faster than any meteorite had a right to. ā€œAs, whatā€™s that?ā€ She raised her hand to point, but the answer hit them all immediately afterward.

There was a burst of the purest white light, and it was accompanied by a holy aura that hit the lot of them with the force of a bolt of lightning to the chest. It drew back shortly thereafter, as if sensing their discomfort. Kaz even felt her own buried divinity stir in response to it. The light collected slowly, resolving itself into the form of a woman, holding a radiant sword on one hand. Her wings stretched nearly ten feet in either direction, a white so bright Kaz was almost sure it would blind her. The blade crackled and sparked with white lightning, and she surveyed them all with hard eyes the color of jade. They paused briefly on herself, and there was a spark of recognition when they found Asmodeus, but she seemed more interested in the other three, particularly Alamgir and Cassiel.

ā€œIt would be you. Fate is ever unkind to me,ā€ said the young man with the scythe, and for a moment, he looked almost afraid. It passed quickly, though, and Kaz couldnā€™t tell if sheā€™d imagined it or not. In response, the angelā€™s eyes snapped to him, and she scowled.

ā€œYou,ā€ she said, voice strangely melodious, as though it carried all the tones of a soft chord rather than a single pitch as other voices did. ā€œI should have killed you when I had the chance. Begone, before I change my mind.ā€ From the way her hand tightened on her blade, it was no idle threat.

Khalid sighed softly. ā€œAnd Heaven has chosen its champion, I see. Fate guide your hand.ā€ And Death disappeared, as quickly as he had come, leaving the woman once more to turn her eyes upon those assembled. She blinked, and the sword disappeared, along with her wings. Her feet touched down gently on the roof, and it became clear to Kaz that she was actually quite small. It was easier to notice, without the armor and the feathers and so on.

ā€œWitnesses, Lady. Asmodeus.ā€ Her eyes narrowed slightly on the last, but nevertheless she inclined her head to all of them. ā€œI am Sephiriel.ā€


Cassiel pursed her lips together, opening her mouth to say something to the white-haired Alamgir, however; she immediately closed it when Asmodeus appeared. Silently, she breathed a small sigh of relief and stood next to her aunt when she appeared. It appeared that Kirito was able to come back somewhat due to their presence, however; it wouldn't be enough. Before much else could be done, a burst of light fixated upon their position. Something pulled at her chest, and for a split second, it almost felt as if Cassiel couldn't breathe, but the discomfort soon disappeared, and a woman appeared. Or rather, an angel. Something deep within Cassiel's blood triggered something, but she did not act upon it, instead, only staring at the blonde-haired woman who addressed herself as Sephiriel.

"Sephiriel? As in, Dad's friend Sephiriel?" she spoke though it was more of a hushed question than anything else.


When Kaz posed the question, Asmodeus looked up, but did not have time to answer. By the time he realized just what was happening, Death had already left, and Sephiriel was there. His own demonic aura flared slightly, it was a reflex to her, but also, his wings appeared. It was a good thing, as well, considering that as soon as Khalid left, Kirito was able to regain control.

It was not a pleasant experience for the boy. The rush in which Alamgir receeded within him to excape Sephiriel's prescence was like hitting a wall as fast as you could run, and the whole world went black. Asmodeus did not hesitate to move, completely ignoring Sephiriel, catching his son before he could fall off the roof. He focused a red-eyed glare on the angel. "You always did have a flair for being over-dramatic. Since when did you become a glorified babysitter for the Witnesses? I thought Raphiel was the one destined for that job. Though, I'm not complaining. He did try to kill me several times." He sighed through his nose. Now was not the time for this.

"Come on. I don't feel like standing out here forever. You're here now, we can sort this out when Caspar and Tsukiyo get back." He spat the last word. He was not happy about this situation, at all. But Sephiriel was the least of his worries. Kirito had gone four years without Alamgir making an appearance, and he had just automatically surfaced with the appearance of some stranger. This did not bode well for any of them. Picked a wonderful time to be gone, Caspar.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Cassiel sighed heavily, stretching her limbs as she waited for the day to begin. She had slept in the spare bedroom, leaving the living room to Sephiriel. There was something about the angel that sparked an awe of wonder within Cassiel, however; she wasn't going to intrude and make herself an unwanted presence to Sephiriel. Instead, she heaved a sigh before getting up, removing the blanket from her form and glided across the floor. She draped herself in a sleeveless shirt, black in color, and pulled on a pair of khaki shorts. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and released the locks to spill over her left shoulder. Once she was dressed properly, she quietly left her room and made her way down the hall, carefully passing by Sephiriel and headed towards Kirito's room.

"Hey Kiki," she stated, entering his room and closing the door behind her. She glanced at him, a frown pulling at her face as she sat beside him on his bed, staring at him intently. She then pulled her arm back and tapped his shoulder, gently, before placing the balled palm onto the bed. "That's for making me worried," she stated, a bit of sorrow laced in her tone, however; there was still a hint of sarcasm behind it. Seeing Alamgir for the first time in a few years, had scared her a bit. She honestly thought she was going to lose Kirito to whoever that boy was, Deathy as Alamgir had called him. She pulled his arm to her and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay now?" she stated, peering up at him from her spot on his shoulder.


Kirito blinked slightly, sighing through his nose. "He was a Horseman, that was why Alamgir was able to surface so easily. But, in answer to your question, yeah, I should be okay. Sephiriel's presence is more than enough to keep him at bay, even if she doesn't actually know what Alamgir is."

He slid an arm around her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze. "I'm sorry for making you worry, Cass. You know that's never my intention."


"Yeah, well intention or not, I will always worry. That will never change," she stated, the smile worming its way back to her face. She leaned away from Kirito and folded her hands in her lap, swinging her legs back and forth a bit. "Mom and Dad are going to be back soon. I wonder if they found anything in regards to..." she stated, drifting off in the process. Her parents had flown to Egypt. There was a possible artifact linking to the Apocalypse rumored to have been found somewhere in Desouk in the tomb of Ibrahim El-Desouki. Of course whether or not this was true, her parents had mentioned nothing in letters.

"Hey, let's go to that new arcade that just opened up. Mom and Dad won't be here for another couple of hours, we can at least stretch our limbs out," she suggested. They didn't need to be stuck in the house, thinking about what happened. It would only cause them to start worrying and become depressed. And that was one thing Cassiel would not stand for: her cousin being depressed about something.


Kirito grinned at her. She always was one for getting out of dodge. "Sounds like a plan to me. So, are we taking the babysitter with us, or are we climbing out my window?" Sure, they wouldn't be able to sneak out that easily, and she would catch up to them, but that didn't mean they had to invite her along. Kirito wanted as little time in her presence as possible.

"Well, we can't just leave her. She is supposed to be our bodyguard," she started softly, tapping a thoughtful finger to her chin. If they just left, without informing anyone, that would probably not end so well, but then again, she wasn't exactly sure how Sephiriel would react in public. Cassiel wasn't entirely sure how long it was since Sephiriel was last on their plane, and things could have changed drastically for her. But it was a risk she was willing to take. Hopefully it wouldn't back fire on her. "I'll go ask her, since...well you know," she stated nervously as she stood from the bed, ruffling Kirito's hair in the process. She made her way towards the living room, spotting the golden-haired angel still fixated on the couch. She cleared her throat to garner Sephiriel's attention before speaking.

"Kirito and I were going to the arcade. I...know this is a bit different and perhaps a little unorthodox, however; we would appreciate it if you'd tag along with us," she stated, smiling as softly as she could. She didn't want to send the wrong message or signals to the angel and wanted to keep things as relatively peaceful between them as she possibly could.


For a long moment, Sephiriel just stared, trying to make sense of what the girl just said. At length, she blinked, her brows furrowing. ā€œThe Arcane?ā€ she replied, assuming that this was what she had heard. ā€œThere are still practitioners of magic publicly operating in this plane? Or is it a clandestine meeting? Will entry require tribute?ā€ Last time sheā€™d been on earth, sheā€™d once associated with a coven of white witches, who had asked for one of her feathers in exchange for letting her in on their druidic language and their secrets. It had been a fair trade, actuallyā€”her skill with weather manipulation had not suffered for it. It had never been straightforwardly called an Arcane, however. She was under the impression that there had been Inquisitions and witch hunts and so forth that had driven the true practitioners underground. Was it a euphemism for something else now?

Kirito couldn't help but roll his eyes. "No, arcade, not arcane. While I am sure there are still practitioners around, they tend to not be very open to the public with their abilities, unless you could psychics and fortune-tellers. An arcade is a place where teens and delinquents tend to go to waste their miserable failures of their lives. Since you are our bodyguard, it's probably recommended that you come along. Who knows, the boogeyman may come to get us."

Cassiel sighed softly. She knew this would probably be a slight problem. She chewed her lips softly as she tried to think of the words to say. "No, not arcane, arcade," she stated, putting an emphasis on the last part of the words. "It's a place where we go to play video games...um," she paused. Furrowing her brows, she pursed her lips together and frowned. Sephiriel probably had no idea what a video game was either. She sighed, slumping her shoulders. There would only be one way for Sephiriel to understand, and that would be to actually go.

"You do not require a tribute of any kind to get in. It is free to all who wish to go, except for the games themselves. Those require, money. Actually, it would probably be a good learning experience for you if you actually just came along," Cassiel finally stated. It would be the only way Sephiriel would know, and honestly, if the angel could keep Alamgir at bay, her presence would be most welcomed. Kirito managed to attract fights at the Arcade, and with what happened the other day, Sephiriel would be a good anchor right now.


The explanation helped not at all, though she did know what money was, even though she didnā€™t have any. Still, games seemed relatively benign, and as sheā€™d pointed out several times by now, she wasnā€™t really in charge of what they did, only their safety while they did it. She should probably consider herself lucky that she was being invited along at all, instead of them attempting to sneak out past her, not that this would work. She blinked at both of them, then nodded. ā€œIf it be a place for those with wasted lives, I see not your reasons for desiring to spend your time there, but I will accompany you in this.ā€ She stood, the plates of her armor clinking together faintly. ā€œAt your discretion, witnesses.ā€ It wasnā€™t like she needed time to prepare.

Kirito looked the angel up and down, before sighing through his nose. "Um....I'm not going anywhere with you looking like you just came from a renaissance fair. No one just walks around in full armor any more, this is not the middle ages." This was not going to be easy. Kirito could only imagine what she would be like in a school setting. Oh god....she wasn't going to follow them to school, was she? If so, what little social life he had would be over.

Sephiriel frowned. ā€œI am surprised that not more of you are dead, then,ā€ she said in a tone of complete seriousness, and looked down at her armor. Sheā€™d practically lived in it for so longā€¦ it was like a part of her being by this point. ā€œBut if it is truly unacceptable, thenā€¦ā€ She shook her head slightly and started at the buckles, unstrapping everything and laying it all out carefully on the side of the couch near the wall, where nobody would trip over it. The chestplate was last to go, and she pulled it over her head with an air of extreme reluctance. She felt soā€¦ exposed, in just her tunic and skirt. Actuallyā€¦

ā€œI suppose your garments do not look like this anymore, either,ā€ she said flatly, looking between herself and the other two, who were indeed dressed very differently. ā€œBut I have nothing else. Will it suffice?ā€


Kirito did have a point, the armor would just draw unnecessary attention. Not that they couldn't do that on their own, with Kirito's hair color for starters. She sighed softly as she shook her head. "I can let you borrow a pair of my pants if you'd like along with a shirt, but what you are wearing isn't too out of place...well maybe the tunic," she stated, making the suggestion so that if Sephiriel was uncomfortable, she could put something else on. Regardless, it was a lot better than the armor.

Sephiriel gave it a bit of consideration, then nodded slowly. ā€œI wouldā€¦ appreciate that. Thank you, Cassiel.ā€

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK



Image

Image



Kirito only shook his head, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "unbelievable", but left it at that. Without another word, as soon as Sephiriel had changed, they left. Kirito hated to admit it, but the angel looked surprisingly good in street clothes. Not that she'd looked bad before, it was just...

He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? He sighed through his nose, his attention taken by one of his old favorites: Pac-Man. Before long, the purple-haired boy was on level seven.


How were humans comfortable dressed like this? The dress of yesterday was one thing, but theseā€¦ jeans were annoyingly skintight, and while the durability of the fabric was better than the t-shirt and scarf she was wearing, it definitely would not stop a blade. Or a bulletā€”she at least knew enough to know about guns. There were just some things you had to know if you wanted to successfully guard a human or two in this time period. Her arms were bare, and this was very strange to Sephiriel, but looking around, it appeared to be convention for these people. She had insisted on this ruff of blue fabric around her neck because she couldnā€™t bear to be exposed thereā€”it was soā€¦uncomfortable.

Though from the amount of dĆ©colletage visible on the young women, she probably still looked a bit like a nun by comparison. Well, good. Nuns at least had some sense of personal propriety. All her thoughts to this effect, however, were rather halted once they entered the arcade. Her eyes immediately narrowed. Kirito and Cassiel had been sure, butā€¦ ā€œAre you absolutely certain there is no witchcraft at work here?ā€ She asked the female Witness in a lowered tone of voice. The room appeared mostly to be filled with boxes, and strange noises issued from them. Furthermore, they contained images somewhat like paintings, only brighter and moving. It was all a bit much for Sephiriel. The clamor was enough that she could hardly hear herself think.

Of course, it only got worse when one of the boxes next to her, which had hitherto been playing a set of tones she would hesitate to call music, suddenly shouted at her. Mortal Kombat! it said, and the moving portrait shifted to show those words. She was unsure if ā€œKombatā€ and combat were the same thing or not, but the mortal part didnā€™t sound favorable, and she glanced immediately to her charges, who seemed mostly to be safe. ā€œYou wish to challenge me, magic box?ā€ she asked, a thread of irritation lacing her hard tones. She wasnā€™t in the right state to be fighting, but if it was indeed threatening her, it would come to regret the move. ā€œWhere is your master? What witch be controlling thine activity, device? I will deign fight no mere puppet.ā€


Cassiel had tried to keep the group together, however; she failed as Kirito made his way towards pac-man. She sighed softly, glancing around at the choice of games and suddenly didn't feel like playing them. Perhaps it was a good thing though as Sephiriel spoke. Cassiel directed her attention to what she had meant when she found the angel staring at the Mortal Kombat game. If this were any other given situation, Cassiel might have laughed, however; she managed a nervous smile and rubbed the back of her neck. She walked beside Sephiriel, offering the angel another smile before placing a quarter in the machine, picking her character (who always happened to be Subzero) and waited for the game to come to life.

"There is no witch controlling the box. And it is not a puppet. This is what you would call a modern day game," she began explaining the mechanics of the machine, demonstrating how to play simply by mashing a few buttons together to get the necessary attack. Although she was defeated, Cassiel smiled over towards Sephiriel. "Do you want to give it a try?" she asked the angel, handing Sephiriel a quarter so that she could if she so desired. "The purpose is to just have fun, so you don't have to worry about winning. If you win, well that's a plus," she added, her smile brightening for a second.


Sephiriel frowned at the shiny coin in her palm, then glanced up at the screen. Apparently, it was simply a game, but she was still a bit suspicious of it. Compressing her lips together, she chanced a look at Cassiel, who seemed to be friendly enough, and then over at Kirito, who was still apparently absorbed in his own game. ā€œā€¦Very well,ā€ she said at last, sliding the coin into the slot as she had seen Cassiel do before. When she reached the character selection screen, she read through the provided information a little too seriously, then selected the one called Raiden, because he had lightning powers, and she was of the opinion that this made him obviously superior to the other choices, especially given the fact that very few of these people were properly clothed either.

She had some difficulty with the controls, but at about half health, she discovered that more than anything, it was a matter of timing and distance gauging. Narrowing her eyes, she adjusted for this, and within a few moments, the foeā€™s little bar was down to nothing, and the magic-not-magic box was proclaiming her victory. She jumped back slightly in surprise when the machine spat a line of small paper rectangles from yet another slot, and she cautiously tore them from the opening, bringing them up to her face. ā€œAre you certain this is not sorcery?ā€ she asked suspiciously.


Kirito, having abandoned his own game after he beat it, had moved to a position to watch Sephiriel and Cassiel. He had to smile at the angel's reaction. He supposed he couldn't be too surprised, something like this had to be just out of the ordinary for her.

"No, there is no magic or the like. It's just a machine. Mechanical parts with electricity that makes it work. It seems like magic, but it isn't." For once, there was no bite to his tone. He rubbed at the back of his neck. Playing through Pac-Man had given him time to think, time to cool off. Alamgir had shaken him, and Sephiriel's attitude had not helped matters, but that still didn't give him the right to jump down her throat like he had.

Still, apologizing was not something that came easy to him, he was too much like his mother. Admitting that he was wrong just felt, well, wrong. "Look, I'm...sorry...for earlier. I haven't had an episode in four years, so what happened last night shook me up pretty bad. I'm sorry I was short with you."


Sephiriel blinked over at Kirito, tilting her head slightly to one side. ā€œNor have I been as kind as I should be,ā€ she replied. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled it in a puff and shook her head. ā€œYour comment about the Middle Ages was not unwarrantedā€”that was the last time I was on this plane. I am a soldier, not a surveyor. The only other realm I need pay much attention to is Hell and so I do notā€¦ know very much aboutā€¦ this.ā€ She gestured to encompass the arcade, her clothing, and the entire surrounding area. ā€œI am accustomed to people who share my mannerisms and views, or at least are used to them. I do not fully understand what is going on, nor what you mean by episode, but I do not need to. I should not have been so defensive, regardless.ā€

She crossed one arm diagonally over her chest, touching her fist to her shoulder, and bowed forward at the waist in apology. ā€œI will do what I can to understand your world, but it will take time. I do not change easily.ā€ No being who lived as long as she had really did, but she was among the most inflexible, and she knew it. Rising, she glanced down at the tickets in her hand, though she did not know to call them that. ā€œDo these have some value in this world? If so, I would like you to have them. Consider itā€¦ my own apology, if you will.ā€ She extended the hand that held the paper slips, as if to offer them.


Kirito had to smile at that. "No one changes easily. It's just apart of nature." His smile vanished, however, when something came into veiw behind Sephiriel.

Five someones, to be more exact. The five jocks that had been harassing him yesterday, as a matter of fact.

"What are you doing here, Fuhen? This is our turf."

Kirito only looked at the mildly. "Oh? I didn't realize that you own public property."

"You little punk. You should get out of here while you can, the girls can ditch you, too, hang with some real guys." As was expected, he aimed a punch at Kirito's face, but Kirito caught it. He was not in the mood to deal with these guys, not today. As the jock blinked stupidly at him, Kirito grinned, his eyes shifting to a deep crimson, his hair gaining white high-lights streaked through the deep purple.

"I would not advise pissing me off right now."

The jock blinked at him once more, and with a grin, Kirito spun, landing a roundhouse kick to the guy's jaw, sending him falling into the Mortal Kombat game that Sephiriel had been playing. When he lowered his leg, his hair was completely white, the transformation complete.

It felt...different, though. Alamgir was not exuding any sort of bloodlust or an overabundance of anger, he just seemed...to be toying with these guys. And that was exactly what he was doing.

"So, which one wanted to get a foot in the face next? Any takers?"

The other boys, clearly startled by the sudden and unexplained change in his appearance, began backing away him, two of them grabbing their leader, hauling him back out of the arcade with them.

Alamgir rolled out his shoulders, grinning llike a maniac, before snorting. "Amateurs. And you can drop the defensive, Cassiel. Kirito let me out. We can be civil, from time to time."


Cassiel smiled softly as Kirito appeared, explaining what made the machine just that; a machine. She blinked startled by his sudden apology, allowing it to sink in before the smile reached her eyes. She was glad that the two seemed to be reconciling their differences, if only for now. It would make the day a little more pleasant without the two of them bickering or at each other's throats. She was about to turn back towards the game when an unfamiliar voice filled the area. She blinked for a second, taking in the five newcomers in the process. For a second, when one spoke her surname, she thought they were referring to her, however; it was made clear enough that they were speaking of her cousin, whom she gave a wary glance towards.

"If there were real guys around, then perhaps we would be so inclined, but as it appears," Cassiel muttered, "All I see are boys" she stated, crossing her arms over her chest, however; her eyes immediately zoned in on the sudden shift of coloration going through Kirito's hair and eyes. Alamgir was being brought forth, and that did not bode well for anyone. As expected, he handled the situation without so much as a second thought to the damage that he might be causing, not to mention he was half-demon and Annunaki, he could easily kill the humans. Thankfully, this did not come to pass as Cassiel released a small sigh of relief, frowning when Alamgir told her not to be defensive.

"Even if Kirito let you out willingly, it doesn't change the fact that I know what you are capable of. And I will not drop the defense," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest in the process. "Civil or not, shouldn't you return Kirito now? You are no longer needed," she stated, however; the question came out softly with no hint of malice behind it as it once had yesterday. She shook her head though and sighed. If he was being civil, perhaps then it would be best to let him run his course. "Fine, just...don't be too reckless," she finally conceded.


Perhaps surprisingly, considering what she was supposed to be, Sephiriel did not initially interfere when the humans appeared, their postures overconfident and their words boorish at the very least. She only blinked at them when they threatened her charges, and even when one of them took a swing at Kirito. They were humans, and they were unarmed. If they posed either he or Cassiel a serious threat, she would intervene, but not until then. Even her aura was containedā€”she had picked up on the fact that it was probably best not to give humans a reason to believe she was anything other than one of them, though somehow, it seemed impossible not to. She just didnā€™t fit in, and it was obvious, at least to her.

She was, however, confused when Kiritoā€™s aura changed, and she recognized it as more akin to what it had been the night before, prior to her inadvertently quashing it with her own. The conversation between the two confused her, at least until she realized what it reminded her of. Death. His aura was of a kind with Deathā€™s. So much so that sheā€™d simply believed this one to be coming from Death the night before. ā€œI see,ā€ she said, voice hard. ā€œAnd I suppose it was just considered unimportant to inform me just who I would be shielding, was it?ā€ Her anger was rising, but it wasnā€™t even really directed at them. She was just generally pissed off. The last time sheā€™d had anything to do with a Horseman, heā€™d just barely escaped with his life. Now they wanted her to protect one? To protect the Antichrist, the definitional antithesis of everything she loved and cherished in the world? Tribulation, indeed.

Unbidden, static electricity began to build up, jumping between the machines and causing the screens to fuzz and distort periodically, though they didnā€™t quite shut off. What little of her hair was loose enough to do so stood on end, as did theirs, since they were close enough to the nucleus of the shift to be affected by it. A few nearby touched metal objects and yelped, pulling their hands back. Frankly, they were lucky that was all.


Alamgir's white eyebrows rose in amusement as parts of his hair began to stand on end. "Now don't get your feathers all ruffled blondie, I'm not Death. I'm Conquest, though I much prefer Alamgir, and that's a whole different ball game. It's not yet time, I'm just here to ensure Kirito doesn't screw things up. You can't blame him, he doesn't like talking about me very much, I'm sure you can guess why."

"Being a Witness and a Horseman all rolled up in one can be rather...uncomfortable at times. Now, before you go making more of a scene and start scaring the piss out of these miscreant human beings, I suggest we all get out of here, wouldn't you agree, blondie?"


Sephirielā€™s scowl only deepened, and a stray bolt of electricity jumped to one of the machines, shorting it out. Damn it all, she couldnā€™t stay here. ā€œWhat you are is the Antichrist. Would that I only had to protect Deathā€”at least he is not everything I am supposed to revile.ā€ She couldnā€™t believe it. What had she ever done to deserve all of this? Her jaw tightened, but he was right about one thing, she needed to get out of here before she caused more damage. The fresh air would help her breathe anyway. She couldnā€™t and shouldnā€™t leave them, because Conquest or not, it was still her job to protect them, but she could not remain while her anger and her hurt still felt so close to breathing her eons of control.

So she left, emerging into the fresh air with a great sigh. Already, the initial anger was bleeding from her, but it left no small amount of confusion, resentment, and hurt behind it. Why hadnā€™t they just told her this, from the beginning? Not Kiritoā€™s familyā€”sheā€™d been there for all of a day and had yet to even meet half of themā€”but her superiors? Was she so unreliable that they thought she would not accept her duty if she knew whom it was for? Did she seem so unfaithful to them? What had she done to be mistrusted so? All she had ever done was her duty, even when it tore her heart in halfā€”even when it meant hurting the person she loved second only to the Trinity itself. Had that earned her nothing?

She sighed deeply, straightening her shoulders, lifting her chin, and ignoring the twinge that remained even so in her chest. Well, if that was the way things were, then she would simply have to rise above it, to overcome this trial the way her brother would have, were he still among them. She would leave them no reason to doubt her any longer. If she had to prove it over and over again for the rest of time, she would not stop. She didnā€™t know how.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Caspar hummed a little to himself as he walked, both of their bags thrown over his broad back, his wifeā€™s hand in his. Some days, he swore he was too damn lucky to be alive. He was married to the love of his life, a simply amazing person whoā€™d fit right into his heart and his life like sheā€™d always been there, had a daughter he loved so dearly it hurt, and friends that he could rely on for absolutely anything. Life was good, even if they hadnā€™t found that much in Egypt. Even if his nephew was the Antichrist and the apocalypse was looking to come knocking any day now. He had every confidence that theyā€™d be able to overcome it.

ā€œI was thinking that for dinner, weā€™d doā€”ā€ Whatever heā€™d been about to suggest was cut off as they approached the apartment building. He and Tsuki and Cassie lived a few floors down from As, Kaz, and Kiri, but he could sense a fourth presence in their home, one he had not felt in more years than he could properly count. He swallowed thickly, his hand tightening just slightly over Tsukiyoā€™s. Sephiriel. It didnā€™t take long for them to drop their things in their own home, and then they headed up the stairs to the other apartment, and Caspar raised his hand to knock on the door, half-dreading and half-anticipating what was about to come.


Tsukiyo smiled all the way from the airport, down the highway, to the street that Caspar and she currently walked down. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her hand swinging in his gently as they made their way to their apartment building. She felt so at ease, the last seventeen years having been the best of her life. She had someone whom she loved, holding her hand, someone whom she never imagined would love her back as much. And she had a daughter given to her by the man she loved. There was nothing more that she could, nor would ever, want.

She tilted her head up when he began speaking, however; she immediately frowned. "Caspar, are you alright?" she stated, giving him a quizzical look. His hand tightened slightly against hers, and she used her thumb to rub the back of his hand slightly. Her question was answered when he spoke a name, and she furrowed her brows. She knew of Sephiriel, however; all she knew was that she had once been Caspar's sister. He still never talked about his fall, but those were thoughts for another time. Once they set everything at home, she followed him to Kazehana's home and waited for the door to be answered, only hoping that everything was well.


Asmodeus sighed. He'd felt Caspar and Tsuki coming, and frankly, he was relieved. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand being around Sephiriel without him. So when the doorbell rang, As answered, a scowl on his face. "You talk to her, I have a son with a split-personality problem to deal with."

Such was true, Alamgir sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch. "Oh lookie, Uncle Truth is back. Maybe now blondie will calm down a bit."

Asmodeus sighed through his nose. "She probably would not be as bad if you would go away." He growled at his son. The Horseman grinned at him. "Aw, come on, daddy-o, you and I both know that's no fun."


ā€œAnd hello to you both as well,ā€ Caspar replied dryly. He hadnā€™t realized that Sephirielā€™s presence would have caused so much trouble for them, but thenā€¦ she was more than a little hardheaded, or she had been, and neither of the two of them had much reason to like angels, besides. Still, he sighed, shaking his head slightly. ā€œWell, my love, I suppose itā€™s about time you met my sister,ā€ he said, glancing down at Tsukiyo with a soft smile. The two of them entered the study, where Sephiriel had taken refuge away from everyone else. She knew keenly how unwanted she was, but she had nowhere else to go, not without leaving her charges behind, anyway, and that was the one thing she could not do.

Someone, presumably, Kazehana, had made her a cup of tea, which was about half-empty now, and the angel looked up from the sip she was taking when they entered, setting it back down with deliberate carefulness. She had donned most of her armor again, because she felt that she needed to return to herself at least that much. It was a figurative thing as well as a literal oneā€”she didnā€™t quite feel like herself without it. It was actually a bit jarring to see Michael without hisā€”for he was wearing human garments as though he were used to them. And he would be, by now, she supposed.

The woman next to him was much smaller than he was, dark of hair, with eyes in a curious red-brown color. She was pretty, Sephiriel decided, but Michael had never been the sort that was weak to that, unlike Gabriel. There was something stalwart in her spirit, that she shared with the Lady, who was apparently her sister. All of these people were so tightly connectedā€”she supposed she should not be surprised that they resisted any intervention by anyone else, no matter their intentions. ā€œDid Asmodeus send you to leash Heavenā€™s hound, Michael?ā€ she asked, and she was honestly surprised by how bitter the words tasted, coming from her mouth. Her eyes, which had held his, dropped to the teacup in front of her. ā€œI wonā€™t hurt him, even if he is Conquest. But I wonā€™t leave, either.ā€

Caspar sighed; heā€™d expected something like this, even though heā€™d hoped for something better. At least she wasnā€™t attacking him. Not physically anyway. He took the seat across from her at the study table, folding his arms over one another on the surface. ā€œI know you wonā€™t,ā€ he replied quietly, and something in his heart broke for her. She was not taking this well, and he felt guilty. If it hadnā€™t been for what heā€™d done, this would have been his job. It was always supposed to be his job. But heā€™d made it, however inadvertently, so that she now bore the responsibility of the Tribulation instead. And she was unaccustomed to dealing with people. ā€œAnd I wouldnā€™t want you to, Seph.ā€ She flinched at the use of the familiar name, and his throat tightened a little more. ā€œWhether or not any of them know it, theyā€™re going to need you.ā€

He didnā€™t say it, but he knew that she would probably need them in the end as well. ā€œSephiriel, I know this probably doesnā€™t seem like the time, but I want you to meet someone.ā€ He reached over and placed a hand on Tsukiā€™s back. ā€œThis is Tsukiyo Fuhen, my wife. I believe youā€™ve met our daughter Cassiel already.ā€

She tried, she really did, but it was hard to remain long angry in his presence. Heā€™d always been her better halfā€”on the battlefield, on the practice ground, and in the quiet moments all. Heā€™d tempered her, seen right through her abrasiveness and hard shell to what he claimed was something warm and soft underneath. Sheā€™d never seen it, but sheā€™d loved him for believing in it. He was her brother, and even if she still felt betrayed, she believed in him so much that she knew he had only done what he thought was right. A strength she wasnā€™t sure she fully possessed. With a sigh, she shook her head. ā€œIt really doesnā€™t,ā€ she said, but turned her eyes back to Tsukiyo all the same, nodding slightly. ā€œBut it isā€¦ good to know that someone has made my brother happy. He was always too sentimental for a life of constant warfare.ā€ Her mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but close.

ā€œI am pleased to meet you, Tsukiyo Fuhen, though I would the circumstances had been different.ā€


Tsukiyo remained silent as they entered the home, shooting Asmodeus a small smile in the process before frowning at his choice of words. Alamgir spoke next, causing Tsukiyo to sigh lightly before shaking her head. They were never going to change were they? Instead, she followed behind Caspar, standing next to him before sitting next to him. She flinched slightly at the choice of words Sephiriel used and glanced over towards Asmodeus, then back to Sephiriel. It seemed that the two didn't get along, but whatever their history, Tsukiyo would not ask. It wasn't her place to do so, just as she never asked again of Caspar's fall. If it was a touchy subject, then might as well leave it alone. She brought her attention back to Sephiriel when Caspar introduced her and shook her head lightly.

"We can never predict the circumstances of which we meet people. It is not preordained, therefore; I am glad to meet you here and now, Sephiriel, regardless of how the circumstances are," Tsukiyo replied, a light smile tugging at her lips. "It goes both ways. He has made me happy in more ways than I thought possible. I am lucky to have him," she stated softly, her face tinting a bit pink in the process as she leaned against his shoulder. She still was nervous about saying such things, even after all these years.


Sephiriel snorted softly at the pinkness to Tsukiyoā€™s face. She didnā€™t understand such tender emotions as romantic love, but she could see that, whatever it was, they were clearly deep in it. It was hard to resent this woman and her daughter for being the ones heā€™d chosen over his return to Heaven, to her, seeing them like this. So she sighed through her nose, and finished her cup of tea. ā€œWell then, I suppose I canā€™t argue with that,ā€ she said simply. Not that she wanted to, really. She had enough to do without being overly protective of her brotherā€”the concept of such a things was foreign to her. She protected people on the field of battle, not in the arena of personal entanglement. That, she knew nothing about whatsoever.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen Character Portrait: Alkedama Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK



Image

Image



Sephiriel was sitting in her usual spot on the couch in the Fuhenā€™s living room when Michael strolled in a few days later, wearing a suspiciously-broad grin. She looked up from what she was reading in just enough time to snatch a cloth bundle out of the air before it hit her face. Blinking, she set the book aside and examined the contents of the bag: some kind of blue jacket, a piece of fabric in grey that would have been a skirt if it was longer, and a white shirt with buttons. ā€œYouā€™re a bit late, Michael,ā€ she informed him archly, raising an eyebrow and wrinkling her nose at the grey thing especially. ā€œKazehana took me shopping for mortal plane clothing yesterday.ā€ Sheā€™d taken a little too much enjoyment from the angelā€™s disbelief at what passed for acceptable, especially when it came to undergarments. Sheā€¦ preferred not to recall it.

The fallen angel snorted, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his broad chest. It was an achingly-familiar gesture, and she felt a twinge between her lungs. ā€œNot quite the same thing, Seph. Thatā€™s a school uniform. Iā€™ve enrolled you to attend class with Kirito and Cassie.ā€

ā€œAnd the reason I cannot simply remain invisible and follow them that way isā€¦?ā€ Sephiriel realized with some trepidation that the grey article was a skirt, and suppressed a shudder. It wouldnā€™t even reach her knees. Who wore things like this? Caspar, however, provided her no answer, merely fixing her with a look. She knew from experience that he would not be swayed on this, for some reason or another, and could only assume that heā€™d decided it wise to meddle for some reason. She sighed; while her stubbornness could match his own, they had both learned to pick their battles with each other, and it wasnā€™t a horrible idea, as far as they went.

Which was, perhaps, how she found herself walking to school the next morning, alongside her charges. The skirt was too short, but at least sheā€™d managed to procure some socks that extended almost far enough upwards to cover the difference. Ridiculous, honestly. Though neither of them knew it, Death was elsewhere doing much the same, save that his problem was with the collar of his shirt, or more specifically, the blue tie that was half-strangling him. Apparently, Bartram had decided that it was a good idea to enroll himself and Akeldama as students at the Fuhensā€™ private school. He was not convinced.


The next day, Cassiel readied herself for school, putting on her uniform, pulling her hair into a ponytail, and made sure nothing was out of place. Once she was satisfied, she went into the kitchen, grabbing a few things and laid them across the table. Tapping a thoughtful finger to her chin, a sudden light shined behind her eyes as she began cutting and chopping before she arranged three lunch boxes. Her mother had shown her how to make bento boxes, since they had been mainly what she and Kazehana had as children, growing up in Japan. She, instead, made something a little more, modernized and simply put the boxes away in her bag. To say she was excited would have been an understatement. Sephiriel would be joining Kirito and herself for school, hence the reason for the third boxed lunch.

It had upset her a bit the way Kirito had treated the angel, and Cassiel made it a point to show Sephiriel that she was welcomed, if not anything else. Though she had her doubts about some things, she felt the need to make Sephiriel feel welcomed, even if it was just starting off slowly, with lunch. Baby steps, she thought as she walked down the street, an extra skip to her walk. She wondered briefly if Sephiriel would be attending the same classes as Kirito and herself. That would be nice if she did. She could try and get Sephiriel to talk a little more, learn the different dialects of the world now since it was different from the world then. It wasn't long before she arrived at the school building, smiling brightly as she made her way towards her home room.


Kirito sighed, propping a hand up against his chin. He and Sephiriel were already in class, and the day had not even begun and Sephiriel had already been hit on by five of his classmates. Not that he really cared, and most of them, if not all, flew straight over her head, but it did tend to make the day rather...boorish.

He wondered vaugely why his uncle had thought it a good idea to enroll her as a student, but, there was little to be done about it now. He looked up slightly when Cass entered, giving his cousin a half-hearted wave.

Akeldama, on the other hand, was having a few difficulties already. Khalid would be in Kirito and Cassiel's class, while she would be put in a lower grade. This did not please the horseman, not one bit. So, glaring up at the human woman, Dama stomped her foot. "No! Dama wants to go see Gir!"

If she had not been under strict orders from Bartram to act human, Dama would have already made this puny human's head go squish. It would have run such a nice color red, too. Such a shame, really. The woman sighed. "I've told you, there is no one by that name in this class. Now, would you please return to your own-- hey!"

Losing her patience, Akeldama simply pushed past the teacher, her red eyes zoning in on Kirito, and made a bee-line for him. She grabbed onto his arm, and then began to viciosly poke him, saying, "Gir! Gir! Dama wants to see you! Let Gir out, you stupid human! GIR!!!"

At first, Kirito really had no idea how to react to being poked by some random albino chick, but at her last saying of Gir, she'd stuck her fingers in his mouth, prying it open and yelling down his throat. At that, Kirito tumbled over backwards with a crash, staring up at her. "What the hell?! Go away, and stay out of my mouth!"


Sephiriel had difficulty understanding how it was that so many people who didnā€™t even know her name were suddenly so interested in talking to her, and she also couldnā€™t decide why all of them had far fewer personal space boundaries than either Kirito or Cassiel. There was also the fact that all of them were male, but she didnā€™t notice this because honestly, most of the people she ever interacted with were male, so there was that. She was polite, but stern, and eventually they were forced away by either a friend or the start of class, leaving her slightly perplexed as to what the point of all the talking had even been.

It was perhaps only worse when she felt the Horsemen enter the premises, and her entire form tensed as one of them, the girl Famine, entered the room, shouting down the teacher and immediately making her way over to Kirito and manhandling him. Sephirielā€™s lips pursed together, and she left her chair to separate them just as Death walked in. Spotting the angel, Dama, and Kirito engaged in some kind of three-way struggle to get what they wanted without revealing what they were, he immediately gained the attention of the teacher. ā€œPlease excuse my sister, madam,ā€ he said politely, locking eyes with her and seeming to stare intently. ā€œShe is not well, but something went wrong with her registration. It is best if she remains with me for the day.ā€ His left eye glittered, flickering red for the briefest of moments, and the teacher, who had been clearly about to protest, smiled instead.

ā€œI see. Iā€™m so sorry to hear that. If you need to, you can seat her next to yourself. Just please do what you can to keep her calmed.ā€ Khalid nodded sagely and advanced to where the others were, taking hold of Akeldamaā€™s elbow. ā€œDama, stop. You can stay in here, but you must come sit with me. Do not disturb the humans,ā€ he added, the last low enough that only the non-humans in the room would even be able to hear it. He made brief eye contact with a vengeful-looking Sephiriel, then the Witnesses, but turned on his heel thereafter, leading Dama away to another section of the classroom, closer to the window, which he promptly commenced staring out of.


Dama puffed out her cheeks, but reluctantly went to sit next to Khalid, shooting vehement glares at Kirito for most of the class. Kirito, on the other hand, massaged his jaw, sitting back down. He wondered why exactly Khalid and Akeldama were here. But then...so was Sephiriel, so he shouldn't be overly surprised. They were all connected in some way, and he'd bet his ass that it was Bartram behind the other's enrollment.

Kirito sighed through his nose, finding it rather difficult to concentrate. Alamgir was just barely kept in check, really only because Sephiriel was sitting directly in front of him. The presence of two other horsemen was almost unbearable for him. He looked tiredly at the blackboard. This was going to be a very long school-year.

After finally growing bored with glaring at Kirito, Dama began to amuse herself by doodling on the paper in front of her. She had little interest in what was being taught.

She was here for one reason only, and that was because Bartram had asked her to try and get Alamgir to surface. It was easy to see what War's goal was. If they exposed Alamgir to the general public, it would cause chaos and mayhem, not to mention force Kirito into hiding, and make it easier all-around to begin their jobs. But, it had to be done delicately, without revealing what they were, meaning, herself and Khalid. The whole thing made Dama weary. She'd rather just crush all the humans around her and be done with it.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, Dama tugged on Khalid's sleeve. "Hey, Kal...Dama's hungry." She looked up at him with big, round, red eyes.


Khalid looked down at Dama, and appeared to consider her words for a moment. Nodding, he stood from his desk. ā€œThis is the time when the humans eat as well Dama,ā€ he said simply. There should be a cafeteria around here somewhere, and he followed the stream of students until they reached the line. He hoped they had a lot more food than they needed, else Dama would probably eat too much of it.

Sephiriel, meanwhile, watched the horsemen exit the classroom and turned to her two charges. She made sure Cassiel was fine (which she was), before turning to Kirito. ā€œHow are you?ā€ she inquired quietly. She knew it would be rather difficult to keep Alamgir at bay with both of them around, even if, as usual, Death wasnā€™t doing much to try and influence him one way or another. Famine alone would be troublesome, and she knew that if they were ever unlucky enough to meet War, there would simply be no chance.


Kirito loked up at Sephiriel, his eyes red instead of purple. Other than that, though, there were no other showings that Alamgir was present. His hair, and temperment, were purely Kirito. He sighed through his nose. "I'm managing."

He then stood up and cracked his neck. He simply wanted this day to be over already. "Come on...It's time for lunch." He said little else, his manerisms stiff, calculated.

Akeldama, on the other hand, was practically skipping alongside Khalid. Once they reached the line, she got slightly impatient, but when she got to the food, she kept asking for more. Khalid had to keep pushing her along to get her to move, and when they finally got to a table, Dama had more food on her plate than one person could even eat. There were quite a few kids staring at the skinny girl as she began to eat it. Or perhaps, a better word, inhale.


Cassiel blinked when she reached the room, waving to her cousin as he waved to her. She took her usual seat beside him and waited for the day to start. She was, however, slightly startled when a white-haired girl attacked Kirito's mouth searching for Gir. She could only speculate that this girl knew who Gir was, therefore, also knew who Kirito was. She did not, however, hide the fact that she was slightly amused by the girl trying to reach for Gir through Kirito's mouth. It wasn't until another student entered, her eyes meeting his as he took the girl away. Something seemed...sad about him that it caused her to frown. She recognized him as the one who was on the roof that night and her frown only deepened. Before she knew it, the bell for lunch signaled and she quickly packed her things away, grabbing her bag of made lunches as she followed after Kirito and Sephiriel.

They were soon in the cafeteria, Cassiel blinking owlishly at the sight. Usually a majority of the students opted to sit outside, but apparently this wasn't the case. There was only one table left and Cassiel made a beeline for it. Once everyone was settled, she pulled the boxes from the bag and presented each one to Kirito and Sephiriel. "I made these for you this morning. This school requires that you pay for lunch and I hardly doubt dad gave you any money. I usually make lunch for Kirito and myself, but I figured since you were attending with us, I'd make one for you as well, Sephiriel," she stated, holding out the purple box with Sephiriel's name written upon it.


Sephiriel took the box with perhaps more delicacy than strictly warranted by the situation, as though it were some object for which reverence should be shown. She blinked in surprise as she set it down on the table and opened itā€”she recognized almost none of the items, but strictly speaking, she hadnā€™t required sustenance until sheā€™d assumed this form. Whatever it was, it smelled very pleasant. She looked over at Cassiel, and though the expression was slight, so slight it might almost be missed, she smiled. ā€œIā€¦ thank you, Cassiel. That was very kind of you.ā€ It may even qualify as the kindest thing anyone had done for her in a long time. Certainly since she arrived here.

The smile, small as it was, faded immediately when Death sat down across from her, and only then did she realize that Famine was already present. She glared at him, and he just looked back at her, something unnamable passing behind the blue of his eyes before he looked down. ā€œMy apologies for the inconvenience,ā€ he said dully, ā€œbut there is nowhere else.ā€ Technically, the horsemen had been there first, which was perhaps the reason why she only grunted softly and looked back down at her food.

Well, Khalid thought to himself, glancing at each of them before he refocused his attention on making sure that Akeldama did not inadvertently elbow him in the side, this is awkward.


Kirito was not at all pleased with the way this day was turning out. It was just going from bad to worse. It was one thing to be in the same room as two other Horsemen, but being in this close of proximity to them was too much.

Akeldama was also not helping, seeing as, between huge mouthfuls of food, she was turning and poking Kirito in the side. For the better part of ten minutes, he ignored her, but with each poke, a strand of his hair was turning white. Finally, when his hair was a rather interesting tye-dye blend of white and purple, he turned to Akeldama and growled, "Would you stop poking me, you insolent brat."

Dama's eyes widened, and then, mouth full and all, she grinned widely. "Gir!"

Kirito rolled his eyes. "Not quite."


Cassiel smiled brightly at Sephiriel as she sat down next to the girl, immediately beginning to dig into her own lunch when the two others from before sat with them. She blinked softly, almost as if she were seeing an illusion, but shrugged her shoulders nonetheless. They were not doing anything hazardous yet, so she supposed it would be fine. "The cafeteria usually isn't this packed, but there isn't a seating chart for where everyone is to sit. You are welcome to sit wherever you like," she stated, her tone soft, her smile still present. She glanced towards the white-haired girl and tried not to laugh as she opened her mouth at Kirito. Perhaps not the most pleasant thing he's ever seen, she thought as she poked at her box. The girl seemed to enjoy eating, and an idea popped in her head.

"Dama," she called, recalling the girl referring to herself as such, "You can have this," she stated, pulling a bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies. She planned on giving them to Sephiriel and Kirito, however; it seemed that the girl liked to eat, and if it helped Kirito out a bit, then who was she to not help her cousin? "I made them last night," she stated, handing the bag to the white-haired girl with a bright smile. These people apparently made her smile more than usual...not that she minded. It was nice that, for once, they were not at each others throat. Well, perhaps not yet anyway if Dama kept pestering Kirito.


Kirito's eyes narrowed slightly as his cousin gave Dama cookies. He sighed through his nose. "You're not supposed to feed stray cats, Cass. It makes them stick around."

Dama, on the other hand, was staring at the cookies with something like a cross between longing and suspicion on her face. She glanced back and forth between Cassiel and the cookies. She loved cookies. But Cassiel was a Witness, and worse, she was Nephilim. She glanced up at Khalid, who only stared back at her. She puffed out her cheeks.

"Dama isn't a cat...why do Bart and Gir have to be butts?" She muttered softly.

Kirito snorted, another strand of his hair turning stark white. "Because that's our job, Dama."


Khalid was opening his mouth to tell Dama that it was fine to eat them, given the fact that she obviously wanted to, but he never had the chance. ā€œWatch out,ā€ he said instead, reaching across the table such that his hand hovered a few inches from Cassielā€™s nose. Just as well that he hadā€”a partially-eaten apple smacked into his gloved palm thereafter, and his fingers closed around it, securing it in place. He brought the hand back in front of him, blinking at the fruit before he aimed it at a nearby trashcan and tossed. It landed where it was supposed to, thudding into the can, and there was a flurry of whispers from a few tables down.

ā€œMoron! You were supposed to hit Fuhen.ā€ A pause. ā€œThe guy Fuhen. Are you quarterback or not?ā€ This was met with some general dissatisfaction from a few other people, and then something a lot lessā€¦ solid than an apple went flying for Kirito, but this went wide and hit someone else in the back.

Apparently, such an error was all it tookā€”it was complete chaos after that. Someone naturally took offense to the toss, and retaliated with beans catapulted from a plastic fork, and then everyone in the packed cafeteria seemed inclined to join in. Khalid sighed through his nose, standing and gesturing for the others to do the same. As soon as they did, he turned the small table over on its side, providing a shield from all incoming food, and sat with his back against it, legs crossed, and calmly resumed eating his own lunch.


Perhaps a blink was all it took as Cassiel stared at the hand in front of her, an apple in its grasp. She blinked confused for a second before she heard someone state about aiming for the other Fuhen. She sighed softly, standing when Khalid spoke to do so and grabbed her lunch. Once the table was over turned, she took a seat on the other side of Khalid, sighing softly. They had gone three months without a food fight, three months. The last one was a result of someone trying to hit Kirito (not surprisingly) and of course, just as this one had, someone took offense and began attacking each other.

"You draw too much attention Kiki," she stated softly, eating her food in the process before pausing. She glanced towards Khalid and smiled a bit softly. "Thanks for that, by the way. The apple," she stated before returning to her meal. It would only be a matter of minutes before the teachers came in to put a stop to it, however; she was sure Kirito might join in the fun. He did last time. She glanced towards Sephiriel and offered her an apologetic smile. "Probably not the best first impression for this school," she stated. It was Sephiriel's first day at the school, and Cassiel was sure that the angel had a lesser opinion than she once did.


Kirito, however, was in no mood to join in the fun, seeing as he was no longer Kirito. With an iritated sigh, he sat down on the floor, his hair now snow white, and resumed eating. Alamgir was a lover of chaos, but this....this was utterly insane. It was more Bartram's scene than his.

Dama, on the other hand, was rather fascinated. She was not quite sure why people were throwing food, but she kind of liked it. She stood, watching for a second, before laughing out loud, and went running off. She was then seen sitting atop the quarterbacks' shoulders, her hands covering his eyes as the guy scowled and swore. As food went flying by her, she was trying, and surprisingly succeeding, in catching it in her mouth.

Alamgir peeked over the edge, a white eyebrow raised before turning to Khalid. "And Bartram thinks that I'm crazy..."


ā€œBartram has not interacted overmuch with humanity,ā€ he replied flatly, glancing back over at Cassiel. ā€œThink nothing of it.ā€ He certainly wouldnā€™t. Sephiriel, meanwhile, huffed sitting between the cousins and shaking her head. Honestly, this wasnā€™t that badā€”these people had nothing on some of the antics Michael and Uriel had been capable of. Especially the latter; he was always causing trouble. This was more trivial and annoying than anything, though she would admit to some morbid curiosity about Famineā€™s antics, and occasionally leaned back to check that the girl was still fine.

Why she did this, she had no idea. It wasnā€™t like a Horseman of the Apocalypse couldnā€™t handle herself against mere humansā€¦ perhaps it was actually the humans she was looking out for, come to think of it. Whatever the case, it seemed fine, at least until a carton of milk smacked into the very top edge of the table, spilling over and hitting Seph in the head, and possibly one or two of the others as well. Then she just got mad. She reminded herself that killing humans was a grave sin and she should never commit it, but when the cold milk started to trickle down her spine, she stood up slowly, taking the brownie from Deathā€™s tray into one of her hands. It was too hard to eat anyway, and Khalid wasnā€™t going to stop her.

Leaning sideways to avoid another piece of flying food, she homed in on the person whoā€™d thrown the milk, identifiable largely because he was pointing in their direction and laughing. Winding back, she pitched the stale confection in a perfect arc across the room, smacking him in the temple hard enough to break the baked good, glared at his stunned expression, and then promptly sat back down. ā€œI donā€™t suppose anyone has a napkin?ā€


For a second, Alamgir blinked owlishly at Sephiriel. Then, silently, the Horseman of Conquest handed the Angel a napkin. "Boy, remind me to never piss you off, Blondie."

He then returned his gaze to Akeldama, and with a tired sigh, he stood up. Famine was now literally licking food off the floor. Alamgir wrinkled his nose in disgust, grabbing the girl by the back of her shirt collar, slinging her over his shoulder. "Alright, Dama, come on. That's enough for one day." He returned to the table, Dama swinging madly from his back, giggling all the while.

"Can we get out of here now?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen Character Portrait: Alkedama Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Alamgir sighed through his nose, cracking his neck back into place. He had to admit, gym class had an upside, if any could be said of the shorts they had to wear. Well, the girls, anyway. The same could not be said of the males.

So far, Khalid, himself, Dama, Cass, and Seph were a little ways away from the rest of the class, and the two captians -the quarterback and the cheer captain- were picking teams for dodgeball. Unsurpisingly, the five of them were the last to be picked. Even worse, the quarterback picked Sephiriel. Alamgir was slightly amused, because then the cheer captain picked Khalid. Finally, Alamgir was last, and stuck on the Cheerleader's team.

Alamgir surveyed the court, a bored look on his face. He was slightly worried, Akeldama tended to get rather violent with contact sports, but then, this was unnecessary. One look showed that the girl had fallen asleep fast on her feet. Alamgir rolled his eyes, catching one of the red rubber balls that had been thrown at him with one hand. The coach called the other person out, and Alamgir launched the ball back, hitting one of the other players square in the face.

A ball hit Dama square in the chest, and without missing a beat, or even waking up, Dama simply fell over, snoring all the while.


She sighed softly. It was time for gym class, and it was something she wasn't looking forward to. The coach had stated yesterday that they would be playing dodgeball, of all sports, today. To say she was amused would have been an exaggeration. She was not amused at all. Dodgeball, while could have easily been her favorite sport, wasn't something she liked playing at school. When the teams were picked, Cassiel made her way to stand next to Sephiriel, giving her the quick rundown on how dodgeball was played. The coach tended to forget to explain the rules, and Cassiel did her best to tell the angel in a way she understood. Dama was the first to get hit, and much to Cassiel's horror, the girl fell asleep on the court. It took all concentration to avoid getting hit by the balls and to avoid stepping over the girl, however; she managed somehow.

She grabbed one of the red rubber balls, aiming for Alamgir, however; when she threw it, it hit someone else. Before she could see who she hit, a red ball smacked her in the face, right on the cheek, earning a startled yelp from her. "Ow," she stated, rubbing her cheek that was now turning red from the impact. It wasn't the first time she was hit in the face, however; the ball was actually a lot softer than her mother's and aunt's fists when she was learning karate from them. She shrugged her shoulders and made her way towards the stand, avoiding all the on-coming balls so she didn't accidentally get hit in the back again, like last time. She knew they knew she was out, however; perhaps it was because she was Kirito's cousin, but they seemed to not care regardless.

"It's up to you now Seph!" she called out, cheering her squad mate on as she sat on the bleachers. Being tagged out so early in the game was a blessing of sorts for Cassiel. She really didn't want to play to begin with, given that she wasn't prone to violent tendencies, however; it was just a simple game. At least to her it was. To the others, it was some weird dance of competition to see who was the superior being. Kirito always seemed to enjoy himself, however; Sephiriel was still new so she'd cheer on her angel friend first. Kirito could manage on his own.


Sheā€™d had no idea what was going on, save that she hated these short pants as much as everything else she was supposed to wear, but thankfully, Cassiel gave her a rundown of the rules of this game they were playing. She was a bit insulted at having been chosen so close to last, but that was fine. It would be just like the wars all over againā€”she would simply have to prove herself a worthy opponent by demonstration. Once everyone was all lined up and the whistle blew, Sephiriel found herself with a red rubber ball headed right for her face. Her hand snapped up, and she caught it, returning it at Death, who didnā€™t even bother to try and dodge it or catch it whatsoever, merely letting it bounce off his chest.

When it did, he walked over to his fallen comrade and hoisted her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing at all, setting her down carefully near Cassiel and seating himself against the wall. He really had no desire to throw things at other people, after all, nor to have them thrown at him. There had been quite enough of that at lunch.

Sephiriel twisted, dropping to the floor to dodge another projectile, then caught one aimed for her center mass on her way up, throwing it back at the person whoā€™d tried to hit her and nailing him in the shoulder. She was a constant whirl of motion, and she was quickly thinning out the ranks of the opposing team, even while hers fell all around her. The cause of this was mostly Alamgir, who hit the captain of her team even as she took out his. Before five minutes had passed, it was just the two of them, staring across the gym at each other. Sephiriel, ammunition in each hand, lifted her chin, the subtle tilt to her lips the faintest ghost of a challenge.


Alamgir grinned right back at the angel, parts of his hair shifting back to purple, along with his right eye. He had to admit, he was enjoying this as much as the kid was, if the partial transformation was any indication.

He ducked the ball thrown at him, twisting so that he kicked it in return, the ball hurtling back towards Sephiriel. Even as he hit the ground he rolled, scooping up another ball and firing it at her.


Sephiriel ducked the return shot by a few inches, but the follow-up required a bit more improvisation, and she dipped down into the splits in the nick of time, which allowed her to roll to the side and come up with two more rubber balls, both of which were hurled with great force for Kiritoā€™s chest. One followed the other by about half a second, and was slightly to one side, in hopes of anticipating his most likely evasive maneuver.

Kirito side-stepped to the left, the second ball missing his face by mere centimeters. For another ten minutes, the two of them continued to duck and dodge, and hurl projectiles at one another. It was eerily reminiscent of some bizarre game of what one might consider dodgeball, but much more violent.

Finally, it ended when they each threw a rubber ball at each other's faces, and they both caught it at roughly the same time, the game ending in a tie. Kirito, his hair now fully purple as well as his eye, busted out laughing as soon as the coach called the game, a startled look on his face as he told them to hit the showers.

Dama did not move, the girl still snoring loudly from her position next to Khalid, and when he stood up, she only fell over, no longer having him to support her.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Khalid had left Akeldama with Bartram again, and at present, his time was his own. He was perhaps more solitary than any of the other Horsemen, including Alamgir. Khalid did not actively fight his fate, for he knew it would be foolish to waste energy in the attempt, but neither did he enjoy being constantly reminded of it. Escapism was his preferred coping method, and today, he was planning on getting it at the library. Within a few minutes of his arrival, he had a small stack of his favorite books, fiction and nonfiction alike, stacked beside him, and was tipped back on a chair, one of them in his hand.

His focus was such that he didnā€™t even feel Michael or Cassiel enter the building, instead turning the page on a set of aeronautic diagrams that he found truly fascinating. Khalid actually built and flew kites in his downtime, and so this sort of thing was very much up his alley, so to speak. He copied a few of the more interesting ones in sketch form into the book he was carrying with him, the pages half-filled, half-blank, and unlined. He found this sort of thing meditative. He didnā€™t have to remember all the horrible things he would one day do when his mind was thus occupied.

Caspar, meanwhile, knew that Kal was in the library, but he left the man to his own business for the moment. Heā€™d heard from Sephiriel that Estherā€™s son was enrolled in the same school as Kirito and Cassiel, but unlike his sister, this had produced not a sense of irritation, but a flicker of hope. Perhaps those kids would be able to do what he had not. Perhaps one or both of them would be able to save the boy from himself, and from his fatherā€™s influence. It was a small hope, but a hope all the same.

Cassiel had asked her father to join her at the library, wanting to pick up a few books and a math book for her Algebra class. Admittedly, math was not her strong point, and quite honestly she had almost failed it once. Once. That day was truly something scary for her. She remembered the look that crossed her face when she received her grade for that class and it was something that her mother, to this day, still has a picture of it. Sephiriel had resigned to staying with her Aunt and cousin in their apartment building, and she knew that, as her duty, she would have been forced to go with Cassiel to the library. She didn't want that for Sephiriel, having the feeling of going everywhere one of them went, so she settled with asking her dad.

The two were once friends right? And her dad was an angel, well former angel, but still one nonetheless. And thus it became that the two entered the library, her eyes zoning in on the section she needed and she temporarily left her father's side. She browsed down the isle, glancing at a few of the books until she passed by one of the isles that held the more popular books. She grabbed one, turned it over and read the title. Twilight? What the.. she thought, opening the book up and skimmed the first sentence. Her face paled slightly as she immediately threw the book back into its spot, rubbing her temples in the process. What was that?, she thought before moving onto the next section.

She grabbed the necessary books she was looking for and made her way towards one of the tables. If she had been paying attention where she was looking, she might have noticed that the boy from school was sitting at the same table she was headed to. And if she were paying attention, she would have noticed that he was leaning back on it slightly. If she had been, then her foot wouldn't have gotten caught in one of the legs (which she was still slightly dazed to even figure out how that happened in the first place) and her face wouldn't have met the floor with a book landing openly on her head. She blinked owlishly before scrambling to her feet, collecting her books in the process.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, as she set the books on the table and stood.

Khalid, zoned out as he was, didnā€™t even notice the fact that Conquestā€™s cousin was about to trip over his chair until she did, and she fell forward with enough force to pull the legs it was tilted on out from under him, and he fell backwards with a loud bang as the wood of the chair back collided with the ground, jarring his spine. Dazed, there were a few moments where he didnā€™t do anything, and then, with a soft grunt, he rolled to the side, regaining his footing with an uncanny smoothness. A gloved hand righted the chair, and he cracked his neck to either side, grimacing softly when something moved back into place.

He shook his head so that his disheveled hair would fall more or less back into some semblance of order, and watched the girl scramble to her feet, setting things to right as best she could. It was the second witness, he noted, and of course when he paid attention to that, he was also able to notice that Michael was in the area, though not so close as to be within earshot, he thought. Strangeā€¦ he hadnā€™t seen the man in many, many years, and there was no way heā€™d was as oblivious as Khalid had been to the fact that they were in such close proximity.

Actually, now that he thought about itā€¦ this girl had a somewhat similar aura to Michaelā€™sā€”there was a common warmth, both in the fire sense and the general goodness sense. There was no way that was a coincidence, and he sighed softly. Fate was never kind to him, but he had not expected her to throw something like this in his direction. ā€œIt isā€¦ fine,ā€ he murmured, though he had yet to notice that heā€™d managed to acquire a cut on his temple from a bookshelf when heā€™d hit it on the way down. It wasnā€™t like pain was of much consequence to him, regardless.

She frowned slightly when she noticed who it was she managed to trip over, though the frown truly didn't make it to her face because of that. It was more-so the trail of blood that was on his forehead. It wasn't bleeding too badly, however; that didn't stop her from pulling out a band-aid from her coat pocket and stepped over towards the white-haired male. She pulled the paper apart, taking off the white strips and applied the band-aid to his head. Satisfied with her work, she smiled and huffed to herself.

"There, all better," she stated, folding her arms over her chest and nodded. "Now it's fine. But still, I'm sorry. I should have paid attention to where I was going and you wouldn't have fallen over," she stated, scratching her cheek nervously in the process. She should have paid attention, but she didn't, and he ended up hurt because of that small window of negligence. She sighed softly and picked up her books, glancing around the library before setting back on this table. "Do...do you mind if I...if I sit here," she stated, unsure why she was nervous all of a sudden.

He was familiar with band-aids, but as soon as he noted here she was applying it, the wound started to close. It was rather a useless gestureā€¦ unless she was unaware of what he was. It seemed more and more likely the longer she stood there, and he felt it confirmed when she asked to sit at the same table as him. He was truly perplexed by thisā€”even most ordinary humans avoided him for his slightly unnatural appearance. The pallor of his skin was more akin to albinism than anything, and the mark over his eye and his manner of dressing usually completed the dissuasion. A dissuasion that she appeared entirely oblivious to.

Khalid blinked slowly. Ethically, he supposed he should warn her. Nobody wanted to share a space with Death if they could avoid it, butā€¦ instead he simply nodded. ā€œGo ahead,ā€ he said simply, retaking his own seat. It was then that he noticed the predominant nature of her book selections. His brows furrowed with slight thoughtfulness, and he took the spine of one delicately in his hand, twisting his wrist so that he could see the cover. ā€œAlgebra?ā€ he inquired softly. ā€œA hobby, or a necessity?ā€ He raised a brow slightly, but then he seemed to remember himself and shook his head, replacing the book neatly at the top of the stack. ā€œAhā€¦ never mind. You need not answer. Excuse me.ā€

"Thanks!" she stated a little too cheerful as she sat down, picking up one of her books and began reading it. She was brought out of her thoughts when he asked a question, taking one of her books and reading the title. This elicited another nervous laugh. "It's okay, I don't mind answering it. If it were just a hobby, I would be happy. Unfortunately," she stated, pausing slightly as she placed her book down and took a deep breath. "It's a necessity," she finally stated. She pursed her lips together, a frown etching onto her face in the process. She truly hated math, it was a devious subject, one she wished she could do without.

"Math isn't exactly my forte, and we have an exam coming up. I figured that I could get a head start by trying to study. We are learning polynomials at the moment, but I can't seem to make it stick," she confessed as she leaned her head on her arms across the table. She could feel a dark cloud hovering above her as she thought about it. "Ah, but it's nothing really. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it soon!" she stated, sitting back up with a determined fire burning through her eyes.

Khalid leaned over slightly, glancing over the problems in her book. Being slightly older than the number zero himself, heā€™d had a lot of time to learn mathematics, and he recognized the difficulty immediately, particularly when his eyes fell to the practice problem she was working on. ā€œYou forgot one of your multiplications,ā€ he pointed out, using an pair of fingers to indicate the one sheā€™d missed. It was easy to do, when multiplying binomials by trinomials. He swapped his own pencil to his left hand and wrote the problem out correctly just beneath where sheā€™d done it. ā€œItā€™s actually not that hard-- the trick is just remembering to do everything. It helps if you can develop a fixed order in which to multiply, and then combine the like terms after.ā€ The Horseman drew a few lines over the problem to indicate this, labeling them with numbers.

ā€œIf you always work in that order, youā€™ll not forget any of them anymore.ā€ He cleared his throat slightly awkwardly, and pulled his hand back. He couldnā€™t say exactly what had possessed him to do that. Maybe he just wanted to see her smile again. She had a good smileā€”it didnā€™t even make him vaguely uneasy sometimes, like Damaā€™s could. It certainly wasnā€™t malicious like the one belonging to Bartram. It was justā€¦ nice.

Cassiel watched intently as his hand moved over the paper, watching with the intent a newborn had when peering at the world for the first time: with awe. She watched as his hand glided over the problem with ease, listened as he explained it, and tried her best to absorb the information. He made it seem so easy, and perhaps to him, it was. She took another problem from the book and immediately began working on it, applying what he had just shown her and smiled when she was able to at least get down to the last two steps of the problem. She turned to him, smiled brightly, and resisted the urge to hug him, though it was potent enough.

"Thank you! I don't think my teacher could have explained it better! Goodness knows he's tried," she stated, clasping her hands together in the process. A sudden thought flickered through her mind. "I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself," she stated. He had sat with her and her cousin during lunch, had been there during dodgeball, and it occurred to her that she never introduced herself to him. Where were her manners? "My name is Cassiel Fuhen, but mostly everyone calls me Cass or Cassie. I don't mind either," she stated, offering her hand out in the process for him to take if he so choose. She wouldn't be offended either way.

Cassielā€¦ he was fairly certain heā€™d heard her addressed by some variation of such. Perhaps by Kirito. He knew them to be related somehow, and to share a last name. He nodded slowly and took the offered hand carefully, shaking it without exerting too much force. ā€œKhalid Itzal, and you are welcome. You may call me as you wishā€”everyone else does, as well." Kal, Khal, Death, Deathyā€¦ the last one especially he was not fond of, but she wouldn't know to use it. There was somethingā€¦ nice about that, honestly. Was it terrible of him not to tell her? She was a Witness; she deserved to know. Butā€¦ sheā€™d probably stop smiling at him if he told her so, and for once, he allowed himself a small piece of selfishness. Sheā€™d find out eventually, anyway, and probably quite soon.

ā€œIf you get stuck againā€¦ you can let me know,ā€ he said, releasing her hand and using his to pick his book back up. Heā€™d leave her to her work, butā€¦ he wasnā€™t inclined to completely close off the possibility of speaking to her, if she happened to need it. This was something incredibly mundane and ordinary, which meant that it was also extraordinarily rare in his life. He wondered if he could be blamed for wanting to make that last, just a little longer.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK



Image

Image



Kazehana moved out of her last series of stretches, stepping off the mat and rolling it up before stowing it back in the closet. She had a daily yoga habit, mostly because, though she ran in the mornings, it was still nice to make sure she didnā€™t lose the flexibility that was essential to her other job. Demon activity had been quiet lately, and the last couple times, it hadnā€™t even been anything noteworthy enough to warrant them all goingā€”As or Cass had just taken care of it by themselves. It was a bit like Hell collectively was waiting for something, and it irritated her. Honestlyā€”people could be so inconsiderate sometimes. Didnā€™t they know she was much more at ease when she had things to beat up?

Sighing slightly, she was just pulling on a pair of actual pants (because no matter how good she looked, she had enough public decency not to walk around in yoga clothes, thank you) when something flickered on the edge of her awareness, like a memory sheā€™d never quite buried, or a pieces of machinery stirring to life after too long inactive. Startled, she froze for a moment, but it disappeared quickly, as if in reaction to her attention. Determined, she chased the sensation down, in that strange way that was somewhere between trying to remember a thought and moving over an actual physical distance.

As soon as she had it, her eyes went wide, and were she anyone else, she might have buckled at the knees. But she wasnā€™t anyone else, she was Kazehana Fuhen, and so she grabbed her coat from the hook and shouted ā€œAs!ā€ in the general direction of the living room. If she sensed what she thought sheā€™d just sensed, heā€™d want to know, but she didnā€™t want to get anyone elseā€™s dander up, just in case she was wrong. But oh, how she hoped she was not wrong. Because of she was right, thenā€¦

The morning runs served her just as well as her supernatural capabilities, and she practically flew down the street, not even stopping to check if her husband or anyone else followed her. She caught what she swore was a flash of red hair rounding a corner, but she wasnā€™t about to let him get away. Her shout was clear, resolute as steel and clarion as the sound of a bell.

ā€œMorgan!ā€


A small smile lighted Morgan's lips the moment he felt Kaz chase after him with her mind. He glanced at Desdemona. "Told you, Des."

Des sighed. This was not how this was supposed to happen. She'd sacrificed everything to do what she'd done, and now, their plans were unraveling. Yet, Morgan seemed to not care. "The stipulation of the contract was that they did not know, Morgan."

Morgan gave her a steely glare. "The contract is void, Desdemona. Remember? A lot has changed in fifteen years." He had little time to say anything else, because Kazehana came barreling around the corner, followed closely by Asmodeus. Morgan sighed slightly. This was decidedly not how he had wanted to see them again, but, he'd also been asking for it, getting as close as he had. It was done now.

Asmodeus had stared after his wife for about a split second before taking off after her, their son also not far behind. Kirito was sensitive to both of his parents' emotions, and right now, his mother's was a roller coaster. Kiri wasn't sure if that was good or bad. By the look on his father's face, it was kind of both.

As had an almost pained expression on his face, as he found himself staring at a man who had no right to be walking on the surface. He wasn't even supposed to exist any more, yet here he was. He opened his mouth once, but nothing came out. So, Morgan seemed to take the opportunity to speak for him.

"Either say something or close your mouth, As, you look like a fish out of water."


The snarky tone he used was all the confirmation she needed, and Kazehana didnā€™t even break her stride, barreling into her friend, her brother, and wrapping her arms around his waist in the tightest hug she could manage without strangling him. Her joy rang incoherent and jubilant over the mental connection sheā€™d established with him, the one she never lost with Asmodeus, and the one sheā€™d just established with Cass, informing him with images and not words of what had occurred. ā€œYou big idiot! How could you have been around and not said anything!ā€ She squeezed him a little too tightly for comfort, but at least she managed to refrain from punching him.

Predictably, Sephiriel had followed after Kirito, and as a result, now stood sort of awkwardly off to the side with him, as his parents appeared to be having quite the moment, if Kazehanaā€™s reaction was anything to go by. She recognized the man who had once been Morrigane, who was then Morgan Alistair, and now Mammon, but she had to sayā€¦ she would not have expected to run into him, not untilā€¦ well, it was better not to think about that.

In his own apartment, Caspar had managed to interpret the disjointed things Kaz was sending him, and rushed his wife and daughter out the door to join the reunion, so to speak. They arrived some minutes later, and Cassā€™s grin was beatific. ā€œYou wily bastard,ā€ he said with fraternal affection. ā€œHow in the Realms did you manage this one?ā€ He was also curious as to who the female was, but he figured if she wanted to introduce herself, she would. Or Morgan would do it, whichever.


Kirito was more than confused, at least, until something clicked. His father had described Morgan once. "Oh, I get it..." He muttered softly. He smiled slightly as his father seemed to finally get his words out. "What the hell, Momo?"

Morgan could only grin, seeing as Kaz was squeezing him rather tightly. When she let go, he rolled his shoulders out, choosing to address As first. "I really can't answer that, you need to be more specific. As for your question, Kaz, it was more of a stipulation that I couldn't, at least, not for the first ten years. After that, it was kinda...awkward. And as for your question," He glanced at Caspar, his green eye glinting slightly. "That can best be answered by her." He nodded to Desdemona, who up until now, had been standing with her arms crossed, looking slightly annoyed.

"Oh, I'm just supposed to introduce myself, now? Honestly, Morgan..." She sighed through her nose, pushing a stray hair out of her face. She pulled a small cylinder from her belt, and with a flick of her wrist, it expanded, a five-foot, wickedly sharp and curved blade springing out of it. "My name is Desdemona, and I'm a Reaper. We're similiar to Watchers, except one of our parents is a Demon, not an Angel. Fifteen years ago, I ran into a bit of trouble, and came across his soul." She jerked her thumb at Morgan while stowing away her scythe.

"It was only a matter of rituals, and I brought him back. It wasn't without cost, of course, but in the long run, it was worth it."

Morgan sighed through his nose. "You call it a bit of trouble, yet you know it's all connected in this, Des." At that, the girl chose to ignore him.


Kazehana at last released her friend, stepping back just a pace or so while he explained his presence. Cass seemed to understand the explanation well enough, for he simply nodded. It made sense, after all. Kaz supposed it wasnā€™t so outlandish to think that there would be a demonic version of a Watcher. She wondered what the demonā€™s equivalent of an annunaki was. ā€œOh, look, Kiri. Another label we can add to your pile of them.ā€ She grinned, and then figured it was probably time for a few more introductions.

ā€œAnd before we have the inevitable discussion of exactly what you meant by that cryptic comment, a few more pieces of information for you: Morgan, this is our son Kirito and his cousin Cassiel. Iā€™m guessing you know Sephiriel already. Everyone, this is Morgan.ā€ Seph offered a polite nod, but said nothing else. Something about this situation was sitting oddly with her. ā€œ We can do the explaining part now, if you want.ā€


Kirito groaned. "How many is that now? Reaper, Watcher, Horseman, Witness...I give up, there's too many to count."

Morgan chuckled. "I know all of you, even the kids. I don't think that there's a Demon alive who doesn't know about the Witnessess. Top it with the fact that one of them is also Conquest, well...word travels fast. As for the explanation..." He looked at Desdemona, who looked away. Morgan sighed. "The Horsemen of War and Famine aren't like Conquest and Death. Those two were born Horsemen. War and Famine possessed two people. Namely, Des's father and sister. That's why she brought me back, she figured I could help. That's also why I never really rushed into any reunions, I knew we'd all run into each other again, evenutally."

"We don't have time for this. We only have a certian amount of time. You know that once the Witnesses--" Des had started speaking, but Morgan cut her off with a sharp glare. The girl fell silent. Now was not the time to be bringing that up, of all things.

As had been listening, and finally voiced what had been bothering him from the start. "What about Asaroth?"

Desdemona glanced at the Demon quickly, and then looked away. It then clicked. Why she'd felt so familiar when Asmodeus knew he'd never met her before. "You took him into yourself." He said quietly.

Des nodded. "Morgan and Asaroth were inescapably intertwined, so much so that you could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. The only way to do so was to give Asaroth another vessel. Reapers have always had the ability to absorb and repress demonic essence, and that is exactly what souls are. I just want my father and little sister back. I don't care about anything else, not the apocalypse, or the Horsemen, or any of it. I just want my family back." She trailed off as she said this, her voice soft. Morgan looked at her sadly, resting a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into the contact.


Tsukiyo had been on the table, trying to help Cassiel with her Algebra homework when Caspar ushered them quickly out of the apartment. Confused, Tsukiyo tried to protest, however; it became apparent what the rush was all about. Cassiel had been just as confused, however; she didn't protest like her mother did. She just went along, packing her book away before being rushed out the door. They came upon the sight of something unexpected, and the look on her mother's face could only lead to one conclusion for Cassiel: this was someone important. If the tears Tsukiyo tried to hide away was any indication of such, she wasn't sure what else it could be.

Cassiel waved unsure of how to properly greet Morgan. Wasn't he supposed to be kind of dead? Sealed away with Asaroth? That was soon answered by the green haired girl by his side and Cassiel frowned a bit. So, there were other beings, Reapers, that were similar to Watchers? Interesting. She didn't know demons were...well if Angels were capable of that then why not a demon? The question truly here was, did the demon actually love their human, or was it forced? Cassiel shuddered at the thought before shaking it away, pushing it as far out of her mind as she possibly could. She didn't want to think about the latter being true.

She returned her attention back just in time to see Morgan give Desdemona a sharp look. Once the witnesses what? What was she going to say? This was confusing to say the least. Perhaps she should ask about it later. "It's good to have you back regardless, Momo," Tsukiyo stated as she laced her hand with Caspar's. Cassiel, however, merely listened to Desdemona speak about the people War and Famine possessed. They were her father and sister, and something inside Cassiel's heart broke a bit. All she wanted as her family back. That was something Cassiel couldn't fathom ever losing. She loved her parents, her uncle and aunt, and her cousin. If something ever happened to them...

She didn't want to think about it, instead, offering a sympathetic smile. "I don't know how much help we can be," Cassiel started, her voice calm and soft. "And I don't know how much help I can be, but we can all strive towards getting your family back. No one should have to be without those they love beside them," she stated, wrapping her arms around herself as Tsukiyo laid her free hand on her daughter's shoulder. She offered a warm smile, but still, something did not sit right within Cassiel. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, something that wouldn't let her be. Was it because of what Desdemona almost said?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen Character Portrait: Alkedama Character Portrait: Bartram
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Sephiriel, of course, knew exactly what the aborted sentence had been about to finish with, but she wasnā€™t about to say it. There were some words that, once spoke, could alter the course of fate itself. Some words had powerā€”she knew that very well indeed. If she or anyone else said them now, things might not go as they were supposed to. Her chance of failing in her sacred mandate would increase, and if she failed, the world failed with her. So it was a bit of an underestimation to say she was relieved when they never actually made it out into the open air.

Kaz looked back and forth between Momo and Des for a moment, a sly little smile that Asmodeus knew very well flickering over her face before she returned to the matter at hand. ā€œSo, we get them back,ā€ she told the girl. ā€œHow exactly are we supposed to go about that? Is there a plan or is this a ā€˜make it up as we go alongā€™ situation? Weā€™re pretty good at those, actually.ā€


Morgan rolled out his shoulders, his neck cracking in the process. "Until the seven years of Tribulation actually start, War and Famine can switch bodies, move from host to host. But once it starts, they're sealed in whatever body they're in, for good. The problem is, no one really knows when the Tribulation will start. That's something that changes with every passing second. It's never constant. So, we're pretty much winging it. Frankly, we're not sure how to get them out of their hosts." He had smiled at Tsuki, shaking his head slightly. Always the emotional one. It became rather apparent just how much he'd missed them in the last fifteen years.

Desdemona, on the other hand, was far from pleased. Her scowl had only deepened the longer the conversation dragged on, and finally, she couldn't take it any longer. "No." She said sharply, and Morgan cast her a sideways glance, but allowed her to continue speaking. He knew it would do him little good to try and stop her. "There is no we, and there never will be a we. Morgan and I can handle this on our own."

Morgan sighed through his nose. "Des..." He said slowly, when he trailed off. His attention was taken by two things: the sudden upsurge in Kirito's aura, and the sudden appearance of another aura altogether.

Bartram had appeared across the street from them, and in response, Alamgir stood where Kirito had. There was little time for any sort of reaction, as a split second later, Des had gone straight for War. Morgan had taken only one step when he was stopped by a hand at his throat. Crimson eye met crimson eyes, Alamgir grinning up at him. Morgan could only smirk slightly. "Conquest."

"Mammon."

With that simple word, the two of them vanished, reappearing a short distance away from each other, and one thing had changed about both of their appearances: Alamgir was now sporting the black wings of his father, whereas Morgan's wings were a deep crimson that matched his hair. Morgan scoffed slightly. He didn't have time for this. Des was not faring well against War, the Horseman was simply toying with her.

Cass, As! Get Des, get her out of here! I can handle Alamgir."

As nodded once, glancing over at Caspar. Of course, he did until something rather hard hit him, sending him backwards into the building next to him hard enough to crack the wall.

"Hello, Azzy....Bart said Dama can kill you. So Dama is going to kill you."

As groaned, blood running down his face from the top of his head. Great, this chick. This day just kept getting better and better.


ā€œLike Hell you are!ā€ someone else answered, and a sturdy shoulder plowed into Akeldamaā€™s emaciated-looking side. Kazehana did not look pleased, but she had not forgotten that this was Desā€™s sister. Whether the girl wanted their help or not, she was going to get itā€”that was what they did for the people that helped one of their own, and taking Asaroth into her body to help Morgan definitely counted. So killing Famine (because hello, the skinny Horseman was obviously Famine) wasnā€™t an option, but that wasnā€™t to say that sheā€™d take kindly to the girl threatening her husband. Not by a damn long shot. Conjuring several soul spheres, Kaz used them to try and pin Akeldama to a wall, as sheā€™d once done in a practice bout to the demon fighting her son.

The weird was back, and it never seemed to run out of ways to throw her for a loop.

Cass, on the other hand, stepped in to help Desdemona, who was obviously struggling against War. Though Seph looked narrow-eyed for a moment at the fight between Alamgir and Mammon, she did not join it, determining that in the end, Bartram was the bigger threat here. She doubted the demon would even think of killing Conquest, and sheā€™d deal with it when it happened if he attempted the feat. There was a flash of light, and Sephiriel was once more bedecked in her shining armor, a longsword in her left hand and a shield in her right. Cass was holding a simply massive zweihander, which he swung around as though it weighed nothing, forcing War back from the green-haired girl.


When Kazehana slammed into Akeldama's side, it was like hitting a brick wall. Akeldama barely even moved. Her red eyes only swiveled over to the purple-haired woman, a slightly confused look on her face. Then, a look of knowing passed through her eyes. "Oh, Dama knows you, you're the Lady." She looked at the soul spheres, and then, she leaned forward, swallowing it whole. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh....that was yummy. It's too bad you're the Lady...Dama would love to eat your soul...but Dama isn't allowed to kill you...Bart would get angry." She looked almost rueful for a second, her gaze returning to As, whom she glared at.

She jumped lightly, and vanished, reappearing in the air above As. All it took was one light touch on top of his head with the ball of her bare foot. For a second, As didn't feel a thing. And then, there was a crushing amount of pain at the top of his skull, blood leaking from his ears as he collapsed. "Dama said she would squish you, Azzy..."

Bartram, on the other hand, had simply been blocking and dodging the girl's swings, whose anger and fear and pain were only making her less powerful, and reckless. He had come for one reason: to get Conquest. He'd expected Sephiriel to be present, not the entire family. He wasn't even sure who this Desdemona was, or why she was so intent on attacking him with a Soul Scythe, of all things.

It was when Sephiriel and Caspar stepped in that he finally did attack. With a flick of his wrist, a stream of fire shot directly at Desdemona, wrapping onto her wrist and forcing her to let go of the weapon. Caspar swung at him, and the Horseman only flickered, the blade passing through him harmlessly. Desdemona's eyes widened. He shouldn't be able to do that, not yet anyway. With another flick, he sent the girl flying straight into Caspar, his attention then focusing on Sephiriel. "Well, Storm-Singer?"

Morgan, on the other hand, figured there was only one way to end this. Asmodeus was in a bad way, and with three Horsemen present, it was likely that only Sephiriel stood a chance against Bartram right now, and even that chance was slim. So, he acted. He knew what War wanted. Well, he could have it. Morgan feigned a duck, instead making for the Scythe that Des had dropped. Sure enough, Alamgir followed him, and as soon as Morgan took hold of the weapon, he swung it, the blade passing through the horseman. For a second, Alamgir froze, a look of surprise passing over his face. The blade hadn't harmed him.

That was when something strange happened. Conquest grabbed both sides of his head, and with a bright surge of dark energy combined with an odd crackling noise, Kirito and Alamgir stood about three feet apart, mirror images of each other save for their coloration. Both of them blinked at each other, and then they both passed out. Morgan caught Kirito, letting Alamgir go. He turned to Bartram. "Well, he's what you wanted, right? Then take him and get out of here."

For a second, Bartram glanced at them all, disbelief in his eyes. He then simply picked up Conquest and said shortly, "Akeldama!" He then turned on his heel and vanished. Dama giggled, glancing down at Asmodeus. "Looks like Azzy lucked out today. Dama thinks you should get some help though. Bye-bye!" With a giggle and a twirl, she, too, vanished.


Kaz was at Asmodeusā€™s side immediately, gently inspecting his head wound. She converted two of her spheres into wisps of energy, treading these through her fingers and touching the point of impact as gently as she could. This would not heal immediately, not even with as much as she could give it. Cass and Tsuki were superior healers to she, but she could do something to help himā€”though it was the furthest thing from good, the wound was not fatal. ā€œShit, shit, shitā€¦ talk to me, As,ā€ Her free hand moved to his cheek, resting there gently.

Her focus was such that she almost missed what was happening to her son, but though there was nothing she could do about it, she watched War carry Alamgir away. ā€œWhat the Hell, Morgan! Thatā€™s my son youā€™re letting him walk away with!ā€ Not that she was sure there was really anything else to do; though Cass and Sephiriel were still fine, Desdemona wasnā€™t looking good, and Kirito was unconscious. The fallen angel set the girl gently on her feet, shaking his head.

If Khalid had shown up to this fight, it may well have become a slaughter. Caspar was actually somewhat interested in the fact that he hadnā€™t, when his presence would have made it quite the decisive stroke for the Horsemen. Sephiriel looked thunderousā€”though Bartram hadnā€™t scratched her, she hadnā€™t managed to do anything to him, either, and now one of her charges was gone. ā€œThereā€™d better be a good reason for this,ā€ she said slowly, referring to the fact that Mammon had let Bartram walk away with Alamgir in hand. ā€œOtherwise, Iā€™m going after him.ā€ It wasnā€™t smart, but it was her job to guard him, and she was feeling very much like a failure right now. It was not a feeling she was accustomed to, and she didnā€™t like it one damn bit.


Before either Fuhen knew what was going on, the battle that had sprung from nowhere resulted in most of them being hurt, and Kazehana was trying her hardest to heal Asmodeus. Immediately, Tsukiyo beckoned Cassiel to follow her, and she obliged her mother. Tsukiyo set a hand on Kazehana's shoulder as Cassiel went around to the other side, rubbing her hands together to kickstart the warmth. "Cassie can take over from here Kaz," she spoke to her sister, ushering her away from Asmodeus so Cassiel could have better leverage. Cassiel glanced towards her aunt and offered a smile before returning her attention towards Asmodeus.

"You're wounds are going to need an accelerant, so this might hurt a bit Uncle Dei-Dei," she stated, hovering over the unconscious demon. Taking a deep breath, she summoned her light and began threading her fingers together, however; if one peered close enough, they would notice small bouts of fire mixed in with the light. The fire would force the skin to singe slightly, causing its natural instincts to heal while being aided by the healing factor inherited from both parents. Once she was finished, Cassiel sighed, leaning back on her legs slightly. "There. Uncle Dei-Dei should be fine...for now," she stated, glancing up at Kazehana with a tired, yet bright smile.


Morgan let out an exasperated sigh. "Your son is going to be just fine. Alamgir will have no choice but to return. They are of one soul, he can't survive without Kirito, and he well knows it. What I did was the only way to ensure we all came out of this alive." Des looked weary, holding her wrist gingerly.

"He has forty-eight hours to return to his other half. Kirito will not wake up until he does. But will Bartram simply let him leave?"

"He won't have a choice. Aside from that, none of the Horsemen command any of the others, not entirely. War can't stop him from leaving. Go after him if you feel you must, Sephiriel, but it would tantamount to suicide."

Desdemona sighed. Like it or not, they were all tied together in this. She picked up her scythe, stowing it away. "We should get off the streets. Prince or not, it will take Asmodeus a while to wake up. Famine's attacks are nothing short of brutal. Morgan is right, Alamgir will have no other choice than to return. It is not the greatest of solutions, but it is perhaps the best one available right now."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen Character Portrait: Alkedama Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Kirito stared at the piece of paper in his hand as if it were going to spontaneuosly combust. Indeed, that was what he was hoping for, really. He was sitting at the usual table for lunch, his cousin on one side, Akeldama on his other, the girl taking turns between poking him in the side and shoving food into her mouth. Sephiriel was a bit farther down, and Khalid at across from them. Kirito's hair was an even mixture of purple and white; after two months of spending every school day with two other Horsemen, he and Alamgir had come to a rather mutual agreement. A part of him got let out, so long as pure chaos didn't ensue.

So far, it was working. Right now, however, Kirito really was not in any good mood. The flyer in his hand was, for all things, a mandatory talent show; every student was to enter. Kirito sighed through his nose. "What the hell is this shit?" He dropped the flyer on the table so that the others could see it.

Akeldama, for once, actually stopped eating long enough to look at it, blinking owlishly before turning to Khalid. "Khal...what's a talent show? Does Dama have to do something?"


Khalid glanced at the flyer on the table, and though his expression didnā€™t change, the air around him shifted a little bit. Two months in, the others would know it to be something a little bit like dread, which was actually kind of funny, because he only seemed to be that way when Sephiriel looked at him too harshly. Actuallyā€¦ Cassiel still didnā€™t know what he and Dama were, and sometimes thinking about telling her produced the same, though he was not inclined to do so often.

ā€œUnfortunately, yes, Dama,ā€ he replied neutrally. Heā€™d encountered these things in his many previous years of high school, though heā€™d never been forced to participate before. His left eye twitched, just slightly. ā€œt would appear that participation is mandatory for all enrolled students. You have to pick something that you are abnormally good at doing, and demonstrate this capacity to an audience of our schoolmates.ā€ That was honestly the best way he could think of to describe it. Softly, Death sighed. Heā€™d never been overly fond of crowds, nor of being looked at. It would seem he had little choiceā€”he was not supposed to cause a stir at the educational facility, and doubtless his refusal to participate would be an inconvenience to his continued utter anonymity. He was even sure to make enough mistakes on his assignments that he was just in the top quarter of his class.

He really didnā€™t want people insisting too much that he apply to college.

Sephirielā€™s brow furrowed. ā€œIā€™mā€¦ abnormally good at hitting things with a sword. I do not think this is an acceptable talent?ā€ A couple of months ago, she wouldnā€™t have even known to ask the question, but since sheā€™d seen no one else who used one except for other supernaturals like Khalid, she was left to guess that it was probably not commonplace anymore. Not even among the knightly class.


Cassiel had been eating her lunch in silence, her eyes roaming every now and then towards Kirito, whose new appearance had not startled her as much as it had once. After the whole ordeal, it was nice just to have her cousin back. She had even made it a point to start making lunch for the five of them, Kirito, Sephiriel, Akeldama, Khalid, and herself. Though the latter two hardly touched the food she made for them, she still made it regardless. She wasn't obligated to do anything for them, but here she was regardless. She blinked at her cousin when he spoke, glancing down at the flyer.

"Ah, no Sephiriel. That wouldn't be an acceptable, ah, talent for this particular Talent Show," Cassiel stated, answering Sephiriel's question. "For a talent show like this, they are requiring something more of an artistic-like talent. Perhaps something that deals with song, instrument, or in Kirito's case, dancing," she continued her explanation. "It's also not limited to those who are comedians, jesters if you will. And, though your sword is perhaps a bit...outdated, showing off forms of martial arts is also a talent that could be deemed acceptable," she finished.

Though there were a lot of other things one could do with a talent show, saying it all in one breath was nearly impossible for Cassiel. Plus, Kirito could pitch in and describe it to her as well. "Ah, I heard you singing, Sephiriel! You could showcase a song if that is what you wish. You have a really pretty voice," Cassiel chimed in with the sudden thought. "But it is to your choosing so if you do not wish to sing, you may choose something more to your liking," she threw in as an after thought. The choice, after all, would undoubtedly fall to Sephiriel in the end anyhow.


Kirito shrugged. "Actually, use a wooden sword, and showcasing swordplay probably isn't a bad idea." He also nodded when Cassiel mentioned his dancing. "That's the easiest thing for me to do."

Akeldama, on the other hand, looked confused. "But...Bart said Dama wasn't allowed to squish people...what's Dama supposed to do?"

Kirito looked a bit amused, looking at the giant heap of food the girl had in front of her. "Eating?"


Sephiriel tilted her head to the side, considering both of the options. She would have to give it some thought. It was possible for her to sing, she supposed, but doing so with no magic behind it seemedā€¦ pointless? Then again, so did swinging around a wooden sword around with nobody to spar against. She still used basic forms sometimes, but they werenā€™t really anything flashy. Bluntly, she asked the question on her mind. ā€œMost of these acts are going to be terrible, arenā€™t they? I canā€™t imagine most of the students at this school have talents in the artistic realm that are demonstrable in this fashion.ā€

Khalid, who was giving a bit of a longing look to the food Cassiel had actually made him (he never ate itā€”it was a surprisingly-complicated thing to explain and nobody asked), made a sound suspiciously like a snort, then blinked owlishly, somewhat surprised with himself. Coughing slightly into his hand, he cleared his throat. ā€œYouā€¦ are probably correct. These events are generally of mixed quality even when entirely voluntary.ā€ He didnā€™t even want to imagine how bad it was going to be when more than half of the acts didnā€™t even want to be there. It sounded almost like something his father would have devised in his lighter momentsā€¦.


Cassiel allowed her eyes to soften a bit with a smile lingering behind them as she glanced at the others. Akeldama, she assumed would be demonstrating something, hopefully that didn't involve the girls' vast stomach. Regardless, she shook her head at Sephiriel's comment. "You have lived a very long time Seph, things change. Talents, though little they may be, are different now a days. Anything can be perceived as a talent, but it's nice to watch, even if they end up making fools of themselves," she replied to her statement. She then turned towards Kirito, the small smile still lingering on her lips.

"And it's the only thing you're really good at," she retorted to his earlier statement. "I am sure you'll be able to figure something out though, Seph," she added in as she pushed her food around with her fork. She was contemplating herself what she would do. Like her cousin, she didn't have many normal talents, and using her birth talents was basically against the rules. Though...there was one thing she could do, and perhaps it'd be the easiest thing to do. Her eyes then focused in on Khalid, somewhat of a flash of curiosity going through her eyes.

"What can you do Khalid?" she questioned, the smile still lingering on her face. Someone told her that her face would fall off if she didn't stop smiling so much, however; she ignored them. What was wrong with smiling? The world seemed to lack it, and there was nothing for her to not be smiling about. She had her family, the small group of friends, and that was all she needed...right?


Khalid looked up sharply, perhaps not expecting to be addressed. He dropped his eyes again immediately afterward, however, using the clean ends of his utensils to move his dessert over to Akeldamaā€™s trayā€”sheā€™d eat it, and he wasnā€™t much inclined at present. ā€œI ahā€¦ play piano.ā€ He was faintly embarrassed by this admission, mostly because it was not something he generally made public knowledge. Heā€™d had no formal tutelage as suchā€”heā€™d simply learned how to read music, then figured out how that corresponded to the keys. He was better at playing by ear than sight-reading, anyway. Heā€™d have to find something to listen to so that he could reproduce it on command, as he was going to have to do for this event.

ā€œDid you have something in particular in mind for yourself, Cassiel?ā€ he returned the question, partly because it was polite and partly because he would rather the conversation not linger on anything about him.


"Really?!" Cassiel stated, something like fascination crossing her eyes as she kept her focus on Khalid. "That's really incredible. I wish I could play, but my fingers always seem to freeze at the wrong moments," she replied, wiggling her fingers in front of her face in the process. She brought her hand down and blinked when the question was directed towards her. She really wasn't thinking about what she was going to do. She sat back in her spot a bit, chewing the bottom of her lip as she contemplated her decision.

"Honestly, I don't know. I am not good at a lot of things, and the one thing I think I can do is sing, but Seph would have me beat there. There is no doubt about that," she replied honestly to the question. In a way it was true. The only thing she could do, other than cook, was perhaps sing. But compared to Sephiriel's voice, Cassiel's probably sounded like nails on a chalk board. Her smile faltered just for a second before she shook the thought from her mind.


Khalid blinked. ā€œActuallyā€¦ā€ he replied, trying to think of a way to say this without giving away what he was. He supposed she knew he was something inhumanā€”theyā€™d both been there that night on the roof, after all. ā€œI personally find the voices of angels somewhat painful to listen to. I suspect I would find yours much more pleasant.ā€ It was stated as bluntly as everything else he said, but he sent a wary glance at Sephiriel, who did not look pleased.

ā€œFor the last time, suck it up or go elsewhere. I canā€™t help it that my song is painful to the unholy. Besidesā€¦ thatā€™s only the case when Iā€™m actually using magic.ā€ Honestly. First Mammon, now Khalid. Why was she even keeping company with such people, anyway? Oh, right. Because her charges had absolutely no sense of self-preservation and she wasnā€™t allowed to interfere.

Khalid sighed through his nose. ā€œApologies, Sephiriel. I canā€™t change what I am any more than you can.ā€ She seemed to accept this, and nodded shortly. ā€œRegardless, Cassiel, I think you should go ahead and try. A talent show is not about winning, after all. It is aboutā€¦ sharing oneself with others.ā€ One of many, many reasons why he was not looking forward to it.


"Of course it's not about winning. It's mainly about having fun and enjoying what it is that you can do. There will always be someone who can do something better than you, and that's probably the thing that makes Talent Shows a bit intimidating for most people," Cassiel replied, leaning over so that her head was resting on her cousins shoulder. "Regardless, I shall look forward to you playing the piano though!" she stated with a bright smile, completely missing the conversation and a few words spoken between Sephiriel and Khalid.

Kirito rolled his eyes slightly. The Angel and the Horseman was almost always at it, in some form or another, usually small banter. Frankly, by now, Kirito had quite gotten used to it. He smiled slightly at his cousin. She still had no idea about Khalid and Akeldama, and he himself had no intention of telling her. Surprisingly, Alamgir was also not so inclined.

He sighed through his nose, however, at Cassiel's comment. "It is not intimidating, it is a pain in the ass."

Dama cocked her head at Kirito. "So..." the albino girl said slowly, "It makes Kiki's butt hurt? Dama does not think that is what a show is supposed to do..."

Kirito ran a hand down his face, exasperated. "Nevermind."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen Character Portrait: Alkedama Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Kirito sighed, sitting with his chin propped in his hand. It was day one of the talent show, and he currently found himself in a seat in one of the back rows of the auditorium. Akeldama sat on his immediate right, with Khalid next to her. Cassiel sat on his left, and Sephiriel next to her. It was a bit odd, really, their little group.

They were, in every sense of the word, the school outcasts. Not that any of them cared. Dama probably didn't even understand what that meant. Kirito's red-purple eyes roamed over the crowd, not particularly interested in the third magic act in a row. This one was worse than the last two, the kid clearly had no clue what he was doing.

Kirito sighed through his nose. He was bored. He was actually bored enough that he considered switching his act to a magic show and simply switching to Alamgir. That would give the school something to talk about. In the end, though, he simply went through with what he'd originally planned. The dance went over better than he expected with the general student body.

And so he found himself back between his cousin and fellow horseman, the latter of which continued to poke him in the side. For the most part, he did his best to ignore her, which was not easy.

"Dama wants to know how Gir did that! Show Dama? Please?" Every once in a while, the albino would turn to Khalid. "Kal! Make Gir show Dama! Dama's hungry..." Kirito had to fight not to roll his eyes. He failed.


Khalid laid a hand on Damaā€™s head in a attempt to quiet her gently, because her persistence was starting to earn them glares from other audience members and a few teachers. He simply stared back until they lost their nerve and looked away. His eyes tended to have that affect on people, but it wouldnā€™t last forever. ā€œPerhaps later, Dama,ā€ he said flatly, watching dully as a few more acts, some of them good, some of them not so much, passed.

When Sephiriel was called, she frowned noticeably, shaking her head and filing past all of them. He wasnā€™t sure if sheā€™d ever decided what she was going to do, but he certainly had not known the final verdict, as it were. So when she emerged onto the stage carrying a harp that she perhaps should not have been able to lift in one hand, he was mildly surprised. Nevertheless, she set it up in front of the chair and sat, looking out into the audience for a moment, still appearing rather grim about the whole thing. He wondered if he wasnā€™t about to get another dose of spellsong after all, but in actual fact, the tune was familiar, and her voice bereft of anything magical.

Well, unless perhaps one considered musical talent to be magic, which he did not, so much. Nevertheless, she had a lovely soprano, though he thought that perhaps the operatic style, though requiring technical skill above and beyond most modern music, was lost on at least half the audience. Even soā€¦ there was something a little captivating about it. None of them should be surprisedā€”there was literally an angel singing on the stage, playing the harp. It was so common an idiom, but to see and hear it literally was really something else.

When she finished, there were a couple moments of silence, and then applause, but by then she was already carrying the harpā€”in both hands this time, thankfullyā€”back across the stage, her face stained a faint tinge of pink, which did not fade even when she returned to her seat, crossing her arms over her chest with a bit of a huff. Heā€™d not have picked Sephiriel as the type to be bothered by audiences, and from the slightly-confused look on her face, she had not expected it to affect her so, either.


Cassiel smiled, tilting her head from side to side as she watched the magic show with faint awe. If she hadn't known what her father was capable, what she was capable of, she might have even been fascinated by the tricks, however; there were things best left unsaid to the public. She had contemplated demonstrating her pyrokinetic abilities, but thought against it. Someone might have a bit of a phobia against fire, and she didn't want to cause any discomfort to anyone. So, she decided upon a song. It was simple tune, something that most people could relate to, and she felt the compelling need to sing this particular song. She waited, watching as Sephiriel was called, and her eyes immediately went to the angel.

When the song began, Cassiel could feel her eyes widening slightly, her eyes shining perhaps a bit brighter than usual as Sephiriel's voice carried through the auditorium. It truly was something to hear her voice, and Cassiel felt herself withdraw a bit. She knew she couldn't compete with a voice like that, and she knew that it wasn't a competition, however; when it was her turn to go on stage, would...she pushed the thought away. Now was not the time to be thinking like that. She was here to just have fun, not care about something so frivolous as what the school would think of her. With that, she allowed the smile to return to her face as she clapped at the end of the song.

She felt a bit silly for being the first to clap, however; she was cheering for her friend. When there was more applause, her smile widened. "That was beautiful, Seph!" Cassiel stated as she turned to face the angel, however; her name was called almost immediately thereafter and she blinked owlishly. Was it her turn already? With a leap from her chair, and a happy light to her step, she took the stage. She waited while everything was readjusted before she tapped on the microphone, laughing a bit nervously at the static it produced. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. She waited for the music to start before she opened her eyes again.

The song began to pour through her mouth, light at first before it began to grow. The deep rumbles of her throat produced a rather pleasant sound, and by the time the song finished, she had not realized she closed her eyes, and opened them up to see a rather perplexed audience. She laughed nervously before exiting the stage and took a seat next to her cousin, her face a bit pink as she fumbled with the hems of her skirt.


Khalid had smiled, just barely, at Cassiel as she sat back down, an expression that honestly looked a bit out-of-place on his face, given how unused he was to making it. ā€œThat was very well done,ā€ he said quietly, and Sephiriel nodded her agreement. Eventually, by the time serious fatigue was setting in for just about everyone, they called Khalid. Fortunately, stagehands took care of setting up the piano, so unlike Sephiriel, he didnā€™t have to make it abundantly obvious that he could move his instrument of choice on his own. He had no real care for the fact that an audience was present, and in fact, chose simply to ignore this fact, sitting down at the bench as though the piano were an old friend. He hit a few keys to make sure the thing was in tune, and decided that it was.

It was almost lovingly that he caressed the ivories and ebonies as he played, for indeed, this was a sincere form of escape for Khalid. A musician need not remember that he was Death, and indeed, the performance he gave was not at all reflective of his nature as a horseman. It was not without its melancholy, but more than anything, the tune was a strong one, and skillfully-executed. This was nothing remarkable, reallyā€”anyone would be technically accomplished after centuries of practice. But it brought him a measure of peace, and that was the important thing about it.


By that time, Dama had fallen asleep, snoring away in her seat next to Kirito. Believe it or not, he found this worse than her constant perstering. When they called her name and she didn't respond, he started nudging her.

Dama woke up with bleary eyes. "Gir? Dama's sleepy...leave Dama alone..."

Kirito scowled. "It's your turn to act, Dama."

She blinked again, yawned, and then looked over at Khalid. "Dama needs an assistant, Khal."


Khalid sighed through his nose, but nevertheless he followed her up onto the stage. Someone, probably a very confused someone, had filled a large bag with pieces of candy, which Khalid threw in random and improbable fashions, sometimes multiple pieces at once. To the amazement of the crowd, Dama managed to catch all of them, and by the time he was done, the bag was completely empty, which was rather a feat on its own.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK



Image

Image



Kirito rolled over, laying spread-eagled in the middle of his living room floor. It was now the middle of June, and in the Concrete Jungle, it was hot. School had let out a few weeks ago, and with summer here, there was...little to do, really. It was too hot to do much, and the demon activity had died down yet again. His father was restless about it, and his mother had taken to sparring with him, her pent-up energy making her edgy.

Along with that, after school had ended, the other three Horsemen had simply disappeared. Kirito found it very strange. He'd gotten rather used to seeing Khalid and Akeldama almost every day, and while he would never call them friends, he certainly wouldn't say that he wasn't starting to miss them. Even Dama, and she still annoyed the hell out of him.

He blew upwards with his mouth, dislodging a purple strand of hair only to have it fall back into place. "If it gets any hotter, I swear I'm going to melt." He was already in nothing but his basketball shorts; the perks of being male, he didn't necessarily have to go around wearing a shirt.


If Sephiriel was bothered by the heat, she made very little indication of it. Indeed, though her hair was still braided around the crown of her head, it showed no sign of being dampened by even the slightest bit of sweat, and the same applied to her clothing. Sheā€™d finally decided to suck it up and blend as well as she could, so she was presently clothed in a pair of shorts, made slightly less uncomfortably skin-baring by the thigh-high white socks sheā€™d decided she favored, and a t-shirt. Presently, her legs were crossed beneath her and she held a large book on her lap, one of Michaelā€™s. It was on nothing more mystical than human history, but she had a lot of catching up to do since the Middle Ages, and though the class on the subject in school had helped, she found it remarkably narrow in terms of subject matter, hence the supplement.

At Kiritoā€™s dramatic pronouncement, however, she looked up, quirking an eyebrow at him, though she wasnā€™t sure heā€™d be able to see it, considering their relative positioning. ā€œSo?ā€ she asked, conveying the same in her tone. It wasnā€™t condescending, but it was certainly pragmatic. ā€œThis is not the first uncomfortably-heated summer you have endured and it will not be the last. Are there not established methods for coping with such situations, or does complaining provide the necessary cooling?ā€ A little bit of sarcasm crept in there, and she flicked her glance to Cassiel, who was the remaining person in the room.


Cassiel fanned herself with a small fan in hand, glancing at her cousin as Kirito rolled around on the floor. She smiled brightly at him as she shook her head, listening to his words and laughed lightly. "If you melted, then who'd take me to school everyday?" she spoke, a light frown pulling at her face before it twisted back into a smile. She turned her attention towards Sephiriel who had spoken, and Cassiel mused the thought over a few times. There were a few things they could do, but she wasn't so sure if the idea would be exactly a good one. Chewing her bottom lip, she mused the thought over still before finally settling in on the one she wanted.

"Well, normally during the summer we go to a variety of places. Usually, when it's warm like this, we go to the public pool. It's rather nice and refreshing and a good way to cool off. Though I am not sure if Kirito would still melt if we went. It'd still be a bit warm, but at least the water would keep us cool," she suggested, placing the fan down and folding her legs underneath her. In all honesty, the heat didn't bother her so much. She was used to the warmth, being able to produce something similar. But she could understand her cousin's need for something a little more cooling.


Kirito raised his eyes, looking at his cousin upside-down. His purple eyes looked almost amused. It had been a while since they went to the pool. He grinned. "Well, at least it's something to do!"




It was about half an hour later that the three of them were at the public pool, and it was actually surprisingly deserted. Not that Kirito minded, he didn't like dealing with a lot of people anyhow. Cassiel was treading water up at the deep end, and Seph had chosen to stay in her clothing, standing at the edge of the pool. Kirito pulled himself out, intent on heading back to the diving board, when a sudden idea struck him, and he grinned. He would probably pay for this later, but he couldn't bring himself to care much.

He walked over to Seph, acting like he was going to walk behind her, and when he reached her, he simply reached out, and pushed her. To ensure that his little plan succeeded, he went with her, sending the two of them sailing into the water. When Kirito came back up to the surface, he was laughing. "So...how's the water?"


Sephirielā€™s head broke the surface of the water, and she sucked in a breath of air, her fringe plastered to her head, darkened to a medium gold by the water. Pushing it back, she glared at him from narrowed jade-green eyes. ā€œYou,ā€ she snarled, swiftly discovering that socks were not nearly as pleasant in water. Moving quickly, she disrobed, tossing the wet articles to the concrete at the side of the pool. Fortunately, someone, presumably either Kazehana or Cassiel, had thought far enough ahead to purchase her an actual swimsuit, so she wouldnā€™t be miserable as a drowned cat for the foreseeable future. Her shorts, she left on, but everything else went, and she turned back to Kirito. ā€œI will end you.ā€

It was hard to tell if she was joking or serious, but she did lunge for Kirito, wrapping a bare arm, hard with muscle and supernatural strength, around his waist and pulling them both back under, their thrashing made slower by the water. Nevertheless, there was surprising force behind the punch she used to slug him in the chest, her eyes open beneath the surface of the pool despite the curious sting caused by the chemicals they used to keep it clean.


Kirito let out a whoosh of air as Seph slugged him, and he came up spluttering, half-coughing and half-laughing as he expelled the water from his lungs. He danced out of her reach the second time, positively gleeful at her reaction. Really, she could seem quite human when she was actually showing emotions. He grinned wolfishly at her as he pushed out of her reach again. "You know, anger looks pretty good on you, Seph."

[font=cambria]Sephiriel paused, her eyes narrowing further and her mouth dropping into a scowl. Even when it was more or less lighthearted, she was perhaps not the biggest fan of being mocked. With a huff, she swam back over to the edge of the pool and pulled herself back up, stalking over to the pile of white towels stacked on a chair and drying herself off as well as possible. After that, she dropped into a well-shaded chair, crossing her legs underneath her and perfectly content to pretend that Kirito did not exist, for the moment.

It was honestly strange. Sheā€™d never exactly been a ray of sunshine in terms of personality, but most of the time, sheā€™d been neutral more than anything, and while it wasnā€™t exactly difficult to work her up into, say, righteous anger, she didn't display many milder or more general emotions as a rule. Something about these people, though, him especially, just made it so difficult not to, and she was increasingly tempted to stop trying. What was it about the whelp that got under her skin? She leaned her head back against the white plastic of the chair rest and sighed, trying not to think about it too much. It wasnā€™t exactly familiar territory for her, and Seph preferred to stick to what was familiar as much as she could.


Cassiel watched the whole scene unfold, watching as Kirito pushed Sephiriel into the pool along with himself. She was on the other side of the pool, closer to the deep end, but she had a clear view of the two. She laughed softly, shaking her head at her cousin's antics, but smiled nonetheless. It was nice to see him and Sephiriel getting a long so well, and quite honestly, she was glad. The two didn't seem to hit it off quite easily, and to see them now, it was nice. Regardless, Cassiel stayed further in the deep end, preferring to keep herself from touching the floor until she climbed out. She made her way towards Sephiriel and took a seat next to the angel.

"Is Kiki causing you trouble?" she stated more than questioned. She knew Kirito wouldn't cause too much trouble, and that they were here to have fun. He was only doing it the way he knew how, and she just hoped it hadn't angered Sephiriel. If it did, well, then there would go all that hard work for nothing. Hard work? She shook the thought from her mind and leaned back into her chair. She had wrapped one of the towels around her, keeping herself shielded mostly, however; she wasn't overly concerned of being dry on the chairs. They were here to swim, were they not?


Kirito was laughing as he pulled himself over to the edge, resting his arms on the concrete. "Aw, what, you're going to ignore me now? That's no fun at all, Seph." Even so, he left her at this point, shoving off and going underwater, resurfacing back over on the other side, closer to where his cousin was. He'd let her sizzle for a while; he'd probably pushed enough as it was at the moment.

She almost shot lightning at him, just a jolt, to remind him who she was and why she was not to be trifled with, but in the end, she pursed her lips, and then allowed one of the corners to tilt upwards oh-so-subtly. Making sure that none of the nearby humans were watching, she hummed a note of spellsong in the back of her throat. She wasnā€™t the Storm-Singer for nothing, and the massive wave of pool water hit him rather hard, she expected. Turning to Cassiel, she shrugged.

ā€œIf he is, heā€™s still losing,ā€ she said with half a smirk.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK



Image

Image



Cassiel and Sephiriel had been intercepted on their way to the others by the sudden appearance of Khalid, who was still giving off absolutely no aura of power whatsoever, as though he were simply the mundane human he had been masquerading as for as long as he could really remember. He was in all black again, the layers of fabric all so dark as to be indistinguishable against one another. It was a stark contrast with his bone-white hair and pallid complexion, which took on a pearlescent quality under the artificial lights of the city. The shadows under his eyes were deep, and if the irises themselves had not been so bright a blue, they would have been long swallowed by that blackness. It made him appear somewhat corpselike, and the massive scythe he held in a casual grip in one hand completed the very visage of his true nature.

ā€œDeath,ā€ Sephiriel spat, stepping in front of Cassiel and materializing her armor, sword, and shield. White lightning licked and spiderwebbed up the edges of the blade, crackling in time with her anger. She lifted her chin and stared down the man, narrowing her vibrant eyes. All Khalid did in response was nod, bloodless lips turning down into the smallest of frowns. On a face as expressionless as his, it was a deeply indicative expression. ā€œLet us pass.ā€ The fact that she was making the demand rather than simply attacking him almost surprised Sephiriel, but she made no indication of this.

Khalid shook his head from side to side, just once. ā€œI cannot. Fate has ordained a demise tonight. Your interference is forbidden.ā€ His words were as flat and dull as they usually were, but there was an undercurrent to them that Sephiriel could almost, but not quite, name. She gritted her teeth. If he was right, then there really was nothing they could do, but she had no idea if he was telling the truth. He didnā€™t seem the kind to lie, but it was easy enough to imagine him doing so when she remembered what and who he was.

ā€œThen weā€™re going through you,ā€ The angel replied, and she surged forward, bringing her sword down in a punishing arc aimed for his shoulder. Khalid deflected, the scythe shifting forms until it was a two-handed sword with a wide, double-edged blade. He wielded it with one hand, like another might swing around a fencing foil not in style but in weight. The blades clanged together with a sonorous sound, and Sephirielā€™s angelic aura burst into vibrancy. It was painful to a creature of his nature, and it forced him to fight back and release his own.

A shadowy cloud of creeping, slinking terror descended over the field, cold darkness and choking fear catching the unwary wholly unprepared and defenseless. Nearby slumbering humans found their dreams suddenly morphed into horrific nightmares, and even the air seemed to shudder with some unnamed, fathomless dread. But there also appeared to be something else in it, some faint trickle of hope, a spark of light in the dark. Its elusiveness was only more fearful than the darkness itself, though, and perhaps in this, there was a lesson to be learned about Khalidā€™s nature as well. The sheer strength of it gave even Sephiriel pause, until she shook off the effect and pushed back, several more clangs of steel on steel echoing into the street around them.

Cassiel wasn't sure what to make of the situation she had suddenly found herself in. One minute she was with her family, and the next, they were being attacked by the horsemen. She had been with Sephiriel when the two of them made their way to help the others, however; they were stopped by the appearance of Khalid. What was he doing here? She hadn't missed the way it seemed just a little bit lonelier when he wasn't around, but she had her family, and Sephiriel was slowly becoming more of her friend than when they first met. Her eyes set into confusion as a frown marred her usually smiling face. He seemed so...tired. She was going to say something to him when Sephiriel beat her to it.

"Death?" she repeated Sephiriel's words, confusion laced behind her voice. He was...Death, the horseman? Her eyes narrowed further in confusion as Khalid then spoke, speaking of a demise this night. Something was going to happen? A sudden realization dawned on Cassiel, one she couldn't quite make out really, and it settled deeply in the pit of her stomach. It felt as if she were completely empty on the inside, as if everything had been removed and then replaced with something else that was just air. Something was going to happen, and Cassiel could not stop the ill-feeling bubbling within her stomach, however; that did not need her attention right now.

Her friends were fighting each other. They were her friends, why did they need to fight? They shouldn't be fighting each other. It was then another feeling of dread descended upon her, however; it was a completely different feeling. She managed to push it away from her, in time to see Sephiriel and Khalid clash once more, their blades clinging against each other. It finally dawned on Cassiel that Khalid was indeed as Sephiriel had stated. He was Death, the horseman. But he was also Khalid, her friend, just as Sephiriel was her friend. They shouldn't be fighting each other. It was with this thought in her mind that she finally managed to control her legs and push herself to run towards them.

She managed to find an opening, wedging herself in between, her back towards Khalid and her face fully facing Sephiriel. She spread her arms open, a look of pure determination crossing her features. "Seph, stop! Please! He's my friend. Please, don't hurt my friend," she stated, unsure of why she was standing before Sephiriel in an attempt to stop their clashing. "He...he's a horseman, but he's still my friend," she spoke, her voice lower than the first time she spoke, her eyes still open and staring at Sephiriel. She didn't want her friends hurting each other, horseman or not, angel or not.

Sephiriel forced herself to abort the hit she was aiming for the horseman when Cassiel insinuated herself between them. The angel grit her teeth, eyes flashing. ā€œCassiel, stay out of the way. This is not your friend! He is Death, and he will be the death of you as well!ā€ Her eyes widenedā€”she hadnā€™t actually meant to say that, however literally true it was, and hoped the girl would pass it off as a metaphor. It would certainly not be unexpected for Sephiriel to use the phrase in the idiomatic way. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword when the girl did not move. She was defending a horseman of the apocalypse; did she not understand what that meant? The lightning grew to encompass Sephirielā€™s entire body, cracking about her with rage rendered impotent by the fact that a Witness stood in her way.

ā€œNot this night,ā€ Khalid said softly from behind Cassiel. ā€œThe death that must be is none of ours.ā€ Something pained had seeped into his voice, and for once, he made no effort to hide it. That she knew what he was and still soughtā€”however unnecessarilyā€”to defend him caused Khalid to feel a tremendous wave of guilt. The death that must occur belonged to this girlā€™s motherā€”it would wound her in ways she had never been hurt, and it would, at least in part, be his fault. She should not be defending him. Someone with a spirit so gentle should not be here at all. Sephiriel was light and pure, it was true, but it was a hard, brittle brightness. Like the lightning she commanded. Cassiel was a warm, gentle flame, and he was not sure he could stand to watch it smother.

ā€œTch,ā€ Sephiriel scoffed, glaring balefully at the horseman over the Witnessā€™s shoulder. ā€œAnd why should we believe you, Death? Why should I believe the word of a hellspawn like you? Why should she trust the words of the one who caused her fatherā€™s fall?ā€ The words were meant to cut since her sword could not, and they did. The vague glimmer in Khalidā€™s eyes went out, leaving them dull and flat, more grey than blue, almost.

ā€œYour suspicion is justified,ā€ he said dully. ā€œBut I will not kill you, and I will not allow you past. Fight me if you must, scorn me if you must, but you will not interfere with what is to be.ā€

Cassiel flinched at Sephiriel's words, her arms falling almost to her sides, but she kept them raised. "But...that's not true. He is my friend," she spoke, the hurt laced in her tone as she stared at Sephiriel. She could see the lightning crackling around the angel as she then began to speak again to Khalid, and every word she spoke to the male caused Cassiel to flinch, and something inside of herself to hurt. He may be the horseman, Death, but he was still Khalid, to her. He may be the death of her one day, but that would not be today. And even if he was, she would not blame him. She would forgive him because they were friends. Instead, she shook her head again at Sephiriel.

"Because he is my friend, Sephiriel. If what he says is true, I will believe him. Dad...he might have fallen for him, but I am sure dad had a reason for it. Dad doesn't do anything without reason and they are always with the best intentions. And that's what friends do, they trust each other," she spoke, her voice an octave higher than what it originally was. She did not know the cause or reason of her father's falling, however; she now knew it had something to do with Khalid. But she also meant what she said, her father did nothing without reason. Surely he fell because he wanted to do something right and just, right? She didn't want to see her friends fighting though.

"Please don't say that about Khalid. He is still Khalid, horseman or not, hellspawn or not. And just as you are my friend, Sephiriel, I don't want to see either of you get hurt. Please, do not say those hurtful words," she continued to plead to her friend. She didn't know what exactly what was to transpire here, what exactly was to happen, but at the moment, it did not concern her. She knew that Sephiriel had never truly taken to Khalid, and part of her knew why now, but it wasn't the complete story. It wasn't until the sentence finally struck Cassiel, that she realized someone was going to die. It wasn't going to be her, Sephiriel, or Khalid. Then who? Who was going to die tonight? A fear bubbled up deep within her gut as she turned her head over her shoulder, glancing at the horseman.

"Someone...is going to die?" she spoke, saying the words without believing them. At that moment, she felt another kind of dread, the dread of not knowing who it was she was going to lose. It couldn't be Kirito, and her uncle was strong enough to take care of himself, so who was going to die tonight? "Mom..." was the only word that escaped her lips, spoken so softly that it would have been confused for a whisper of the breeze. Her eyes glanced away from Khalid, searching over him to find her mother in a desperate motion. Her mother wasn't going to die, she couldn't...could she? Is...is that why...Cassiel could almost feel the hot tears pooling behind her eyes as she recalled the last five days. Her mother had been adamant, more-so than usual, about doing things with Cassiel.

She had obliged her mother, even if she was tired. They had just eaten blueberry pancakes this morning, and her mother had told her she loved her, multiple times in one setting, though Cassiel hardly paid much attention to it. Her mother was always affectionate that way, and she had always told Cassiel and Caspar she loved them multiple times a day. Cassiel had even laughed at it once when she had pointed it out. "Mom..." she repeated, her tears finally falling from her face, cascading in little streams down her face. It couldn't be her mother, it couldn't be.

But it was, and the way Khalid did not at first respond was confirmation enough. There was a strange pause, of perhaps a few seconds, but it seemed to stretch into eternity, and in it, Death confirmed that Bartram had dealt a mortal blow. ā€œDo not be upset with Sephiriel,ā€ Khalid said softly. ā€œShe is only speaking the truth. I am sorry.ā€ But the death that must be was coming to pass, and he would keep them where they were no longer. Khalid closed his eyes, and disappeared.

The seraph growled angrily under her breath, banishing the lightning. Tsukiyo wasnā€™t the only one injuredā€”Asmodeus needed help, or he would be joining the ranks of the dead as well. Making brief eye contact with Cassiel, Seph took off for the demon lordā€™s side. That life, at least, she could save.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Cassiel, for the past few days, did absolutely nothing. She remained in her room or with her father, just holding him as if she too would disappear if she let go. Her heart was broken, the bright light in her eyes dulled, and her face drained of most of its color. The only color staining her face was the bright red that had covered her eyes from the tears she had shed, but she did not blame him, Khalid, for stopping her and Sephiriel. She could never blame him, and she didn't. From her understanding, her mother was to die no matter what, and there was nothing she, nor her father, could do about it. And how her heart ached when she had seen what had transpired between her parents.

She had not realized she was screaming until her mother's eyes had closed, and her father had racked his body with his own tears. It was hard, accepting that fact. The fact that her mother was dead, and would no longer be a part of her life, however; that thought didn't make it to fully surface. She was a part of her mother, and her mother a part of her. Tsukiyo would always be a part of Cassiel's life in that connection they shared through blood. It was just painful thinking of being away from her mother, but Cassiel knew, somewhere deep in her heart, that she would recover. Her father, though, she wasn't so sure of. He had the same expression she had, was still wearing, and it pained her so much.

Her parents had been (were still) so deeply in love that Cassiel had been envious of her parents. She let a lone tear roll down her cheek as she wiped at it, forcing herself out of the apartment in the process. Her father was visiting her mother's grave, something he seemed to do every waking hour, and only coming home to eat and sleep. She was going to do the same, however; she found herself making her way to her aunt and uncle's place. They were not home, that much she knew. Her aunt and uncle were probably with her father right now, and though Cassiel wanted to be there with them too, she made her way inside and towards Kirito's room.

He was there when it happened, and she had not spoken to him after the incident. It was not that she didn't want to speak with him, it was the fact that she couldn't have, at the time. She was so wrapped up in her grief, that she had failed to notice that it wasn't Kirito still standing after the battle with Bartram. She sighed softly, wiping away the tears that were still threatening to fall from her eyes, and stopped in front of Kirito's room. Knocking softly, she pushed the door open and spotted Alamgir sitting on the bed, a look upon his face that she could not read. She made her way over towards him, situating herself on the bed so that she was sitting crosslegged and facing him fully.

"Alamgir," she spoke, her voice catching in her throat as she thought of the words to speak to him, but couldn't. What could she possibly say? Instead, she did the only thing she could think of, and grabbed his wrist gently, tugging him forward and herself so that she was able to embrace him, her face buried in his shoulder as she refrained from staining his shirt. "I'm sorry, Alamgir," sorry for what though? It wasn't his fault, and she wouldn't ever say it was. It was no one's fault. Even if she wanted to blame someone, she did not have it in her to do so. She wasn't that kind of person.


Alamgir felt uncomfortably out of place in this home. He did not belong here, in this place of mourning, no matter what the rest of them said. Nothing any of them said could coax Kirito back out, either. Not even Sephiriel's suppression could reverse them; Kirito had retreated so far into himself that the Horseman was all that was reachable. Alamgir could not really blame him; Tsukiyo had died protecting him, and it had not been necessary. Sephiriel had stayed close, but Asmodeus and Kazehana had been away for the most part.

The woman's death had been difficult for all of them, and even Alamgir felt some measure of this grief, unsure of how to deal with it. As a Horseman he had no connection to any of them, he himself was a bringer of death and destruction; he should not feel such emotion. He sighed through his nose, as he had sensed Cassiel's approach long before she entered.

He was utterly unsure of exactly how to deal with the situation, as the girl was hugging him, and apologizing, though he knew not what for. Bartram was the reason her mother was dead, not her, or himself, or even Kirito, though the boy certainly thought so. He sighed again. "I fear I cannot accept that apology, for you have done nothing wrong, Cassiel." Awkwardly, he laid an hand on top of her head. Physical contact was something he was rather unfamiliar with. "I assume you came to speak to your cousin, and it is I who should apologize. He...will not emerge, I'm afraid."


Cassiel was unsure of what to say. She knew it wasn't her fault, it wasn't anyone's fault, however; she didn't know why she was apologizing anyway. "I know, Alamgir, but still," she stated, pulling back a little in the process. She shook her head when he spoke though. She didn't know why, truly, she was even here. She had felt the need to come, to just see either of them, Alamgir or Kirito. She just wanted, needed to know they were okay, the both of them. She opened her eyes to stare at Alamgir before speaking once more.

"I know, Alamgir. I know," she spoke softly. "I'm...just glad that the both of you are okay, though. I know we were not exactly on the best of terms, Alamgir, but...I'm glad that you are okay as well. Thank you, for protecting Kirito. He can be stubborn sometimes, but thank you," she spoke, grabbing his hand with hers and rubbing a soothing circle with her thumb. She wondered, for a moment, if Kirito would resurface again, because she wanted to know how he was doing. He was undoubtedly taking this just as hard as she was, as her father was. She could still feel her tears threatening to fall, when a thought entered her mind.

"Do...you mind if I sing for Kirito, Alamgir?" she spoke. She waited for his answer, but somehow knew that he wouldn't mind, and so she began humming a soft tune. The song that began to softly elicit from her throat was the same song she had sang on more than one occasion for Kirito. And in a way, it was her own way of healing, of accepting the fact that her mother was dead, but her cousin was alive. It would be some time still before she could heal, but this was a first step...right?


Surprisingly, Alamgir smiled slightly. He knew what she was going to sing before she began, and he felt Kirito stirring. He was nervous, unsure, but the Horseman took advantage of the situation. The kid didn't really stand a chance as his hair shifted from white to purple, and he looked utterly startled to find himelf back on the outside. Something painful shifted behind his eyes, and he dropped his head into his hands. He felt utterly guilty, and broken. He didn't understand why his cousin didn't hate him. He grit his teeth, but the tears still fell, the salty drops sifting through his fingers.

"I'm sorry...Cassie. I'm so sorry."


Cassiel allowed a smile to cross her features when she saw the white receeding back to purple, and she placed a hand on Kirito's shoulder when he burried his face into his hands. "Kiki, it's not your fault. Don't be sorry, Kiki. Please don't be sorry," she spoke, her voice cracking just a bit in the process. She didn't want him to apologize, because there was nothing to apologize for. It wasn't his fault, and she knew her mother would not want Kirito to be upset. She would have wanted Kirito to smile, embrace the life he had and try and make it the best he could.

"It's okay, Kiki. Mom...she...did it to protect you. It was her choice, and if it were any other given situation, she would have done it again. She...I don't think she regretted anything to protect you. She loved you as much as Aunt Kaz does. Remember, Kiki, mom loved you, your mom loves you. Be happy that you are still alive, that you are able to see aunt Kaz and still have a family. I love you, dad loves you, and mom...she still loves you, I know she does. So please, don't...don't be sorry," she spoke, leaning over once more to hug him. She couldn't stop the tears then, from falling from her face.

"Don't let what happened to mom, be your fault, because it wasn't. No one...no one is to blame, Kirito. I know it'll be hard, it'll be so hard, but we can do this. We can do this because we have to. We have to keep going, for her," she finally finished, her voice cracking deeply before she gave into the quiet sobs.


He knew that, of course he knew that. But it still hurt, knowing she was gone. He could feel and hear her crying, so he did the only thing he could think of. Kirito held his cousin, and cried with her.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen Character Portrait: Khalid Itzal
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK



Image

Image



The night was balmy and warm, as they always seemed to be in summertime, but temperature was of little consequence to Khalid. Very little at all was of consequence to Khalid, in all honesty, but for some reason, he found himself more unsettled than heā€™d been in centuries at the moment. Being around Bartram was the opposite of helpful, and even Damaā€™s usual exuberance seemed to be wearing thin. So, as he always was in the end, Khalid was alone.

Central Park was all but abandoned at night, save perhaps for those that slept here, having nowhere else to go. Kal did not bother those people, and they left him alone as well. Heā€™d wandered deeper into the park than most of them strayed anyhow, and situated himself in a tree, leaning his head back against the rough bark of it and closing his eyes. He was not asleep, though perhaps he looked it, save that the strained lines of his expression did not ease. There was a strange ache in his chest, one that he had not felt for a long time. Guilt was not an uncommon emotion for Death, but it had been quite a while indeed since it had become a physical pain to him. He exhaled through his nose, impassive against the breeze that stirred his bone-white hair, and for the first time in nearly a century, he allowed himself to dip into memories of a time when he was much different.

A time when he was loved, and had felt the pain of loss as keenly as anyone else would.

Cassiel did not know what had possessed her to walk alone in Central Park. It was, perhaps, not the wisest idea to be alone, especially during the late night hour when there was hardly anyone out save for those who had no where to go. She sighed softly, her eyes still slightly puffed and red. She still couldn't stop crying, even if she tried her hardest to stop the tears from falling. She pulled her ponytail over her shoulder, and began running her fingers through the long strands in an attempt to sooth herself. She, at least, managed a smile when she remembered that Kirito was at least back. She could still feel the moisture of his tears staining her shoulder and a part of her had been happy that he had cried with her.

Instead, she allowed her legs to carry her further down the path, going deeper into the park than she normally did. Perhaps it was fate's way of telling her to move on, to at least speak with him of the matter, but Cassiel wasn't entirely sure she knew how. How could she possibly speak with him after what had happened? She had felt guilty that he had been there, that Sephiriel had said those things to him, and meant it. She knew that Sephiriel was only trying to get to her mother, to get to the fight, to just help in any way she could, but that was uncalled for for the way she had did it. But perhaps here, now she could make up for that, for Sephiriel.

Glancing up into the tree, she noticed Khalid's eyes were closed, and contemplated whether or not to disturb him. It was odd really, how beautiful he appeared under the moonlight, in the tree, his white hair contrasting against his skin, but it was also a heartbreaking beauty that Cassiel could not help but feel her tears bubble again. He always seemed so sad, so alone and Cassiel wanted nothing more than to be his friend, to show him he was not alone, no matter who or what he was. She was no longer blind as to what he was; Death, one of the four horseman, but she did not care because what he also was, was her friend.

"Khalid," she finally managed to find her voice. She waited for him to stir, and smiled up at him as best as she could. She waved a hand up at him in a simple greeting, her eyes closed in the process. Death or not, demon or not, Khalid was still Khalid to her, and she wanted so desperately to show him that. She wouldn't, couldn't blame him for anything.

Heā€™d sensed her coming, but some small part of him that still dared to hope that people might one day get what they deserved had hoped sheā€™d simply pass him by, leave him to his solitude. But she did not, and he cracked his eyelids, bright blue flashing in the scant illumination from above, and fixed his gaze down upon her. He took in the evidence of her grief with no visible change in his expression, but he felt another battering wave of guilt crash over him. He had done this. He had been a part of this. And he would be a part of greater torments to come. He would hurt her, hurt them, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

ā€œYou should not be here,ā€ he said quietly. ā€œThe city is dangerous at night, and your family will miss you.ā€ What he did not say was that her presence was causing him pain, because it was a very stark, unforgiving reminder of everything that had been and everything that must be. He found himself wondering why he had ever chosen to take solace in the fact that she knew not who he was. He should have given her those last days of her innocence untainted by his presence. Then perhaps she would be able to hate him as she should. But nowā€¦ he doubted she could, however much it might be better for them both. She was too forgiving, too willing to overlook the transgressions of those she had come to consider her friends.

He knew this, but he did not understand it.

His body seemed to move of its own volition, and he jumped down from the tree, landing with a soft noise and straightening. ā€œI will take you home, but it is there you should stay.ā€ He doubted she had explicitly come here seeking him, but even if she hadnā€™t, it was clear that she should not have left at all. Watcher or no, Witness or no, there were dark things about at night, and not all of the dangers were supernatural. Some of them were just plain human.

She knew that. She knew she shouldn't be out here, by herself without any of her family memebers, but she had simply wanted to be. She couldn't face going home, not yet, and a part of her was so afraid to go home. And so, it was with this thought, even after he had landed from the tree and spoken he would take her home, that she shook her head. Softly, she paused and glanced back at him, her eyes dulling just slightly as she stared at him. She could see it still, and it pulled at her heart, pulling forth a painful lurch that she could not quite understand. She was in pain, not because of her mother's death, but because of him. He was the reason why she was feeling this pain because she wanted nothing more than to be in her friend's company.

"Don't," she finally spoke, her voice a little stronger than it was before. "Please...don't," she continued, taking a step back. "I do not wish to go home, not yet. I," she paused in her sentence and glanced at him, staring at him. She should tell him, now that she had the chance, she could at least tell him that. "Khalid, I want you to know that I do not blame you. I do not blame you nor do I hate you for what you had to do. I forgive you, because...because you are my friend, and that's what friends do. They inevitably hurt each other, but they also forgive each other," she stated, taking a step closer to him in the process until she could reach out and grab his hand in hers.

Much in the same fashion as she did with Kirito, she rubbed the back of his hand in soft circles with her thumb. "Please, I hope you do not think I do blame or hate you, because I don't. You are my friend, and you are also a part of my family," she continued saying, her voice wavering from strong to soft. She wanted him to understand that he was also a part of her family, in a way that didn't make sense to her, he was part of her family. She couldn't explain it, but there it was all the same. "You'll always be a part of my family," she whispered so softly, and cast her gaze from his. It was painful to see what she saw behind his bright, blue eyes.

Her touch was warm, especially against his unnaturally-cold skin. Perhaps, under different circumstances, he would have found it pleasant, even soothing. But as things stood, he felt it burn him like a brand. The words, too, seared something uncomfortable onto the surface of his soul. He had stopped dead at the contact, and for once, allowed something of his feelings to show on his face. Khalidā€™s lips parted as if to speak, but what was writ into his face was a sort of stricken panic. ā€œDo not consign yourself to that,ā€ he said, and something in his tone was pleading. ā€œI was Death long before I was a horseman. I will bring you nothing but suffering, and your family just the same.ā€ He didn't want her forgiveness, because it meant she would allow him close enough to do harm again. It was better if they were all as the angel was: deeply suspicious and unwilling to trust.

ā€œYou should blame me,ā€ he said, pulling his hand as gently as he could from her grip. ā€œAnd you should hate me as fiercely as you can. It will keep you safer.ā€ And he wanted that. He had only time to give her, and he wanted to give her all of that time, as happy as it could possibly be, now, and free of him. People had professed to love him before. Those people were dead now, or suffering so deeply they might as well be dead. He didnā€™t want the same for her, or any of those that were truly her family.

ā€œIf you do not want to go, I cannot force you. But you ought to.ā€ He had been part of the deaths of two mothers, now, and the circumstances, while not identical, were similar enough to disturb him. He didnā€™t want to destroy another family the way he had destroyed his own. But if they allowed him closeā€¦ he was not sure he would have the strength to keep his distance on his own. Because in the end, he was weak. Weak enough to want, somewhere deep inside himself, what he had never had the opportunity to enjoy. He could not allow himself to take it, because time was the only thing they had. And they should spend what remained of it as well as they could.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she should hate him, blame him for everything, but she couldn't, and she wouldn't. She was not that person who could do so. If she did blame him, hate him for everything, she would only be lying to herself, to him, because she did not hate him. She did not blame him. She...considered him her friend so deeply it hurt. Why couldn't he see that? Why wouldn't he let her be his friend? That was all she wanted. Perhaps, one day, she could be his friend, and make him smile as friends do, and give him the opportunity to chase away his demons, because no matter what, she loved him as a friend, just as she loved her family so wholly. She frowned slightly when he pulled his hand from hers, and she felt a little colder at the lack of his hand.

"But I don't, I can't," she responded. He had been death long before being the Horseman, that had caused her a light confusion. "You are nothing more than what you choose to be. You may not think you have a choice, but you do. You have a choice to be more than what you are, Khalid," she continued. Perhaps he didn't see it that way, but there was always a choice, or at least that is what she believed. She believed everyone was capable of being something more, something that would inevitably make them stronger. She wanted him to see that.

"Perhaps you are right. Maybe I should leave, maybe I should hate you, blame you for everything, but...why? What good will that do me? Blaming someone is not who I am, and it never will be. You say you are Death, that you were Death long before you were the horseman. If that is so," she spoke, pausing softly. Her eyes hardened just a bit, an unnatural characteristic to appear on her face as she continued to regard Khalid. "Then I will be Life," she declared. She would be Life to his Death if he saw it that way. She wasn't going to leave, to abandon her friend. He mattered too much to her, and she wasn't going to lose another.

"I do not know how you came to be Death before, but what I do know, is that I will not lose another person who matters to me. I do not care, if takes me the rest of my life, but Khalid," she spoke, glancing back at him, clenching her fists tightly. "Tell me, please. Tell me about you, your life, why it is you think I should hate you, should loathe you, should leave you. If...if you do, then..." she continued, pausing again as she glanced away from him. If it was what he still wanted, if he told her, then she would leave him be. She wouldn't bother him again, even if it would hurt her in the end. "Then I will leave you," she could not bear to bring herself to say alone.

If only it were so simple as she suggested. If only all it took was a declaration to become what was needed to save him. But he could not be saved. Life she might be, at least in some important sense, but that did not mean that death was less terrible. He, too, looked away, tilting his head upwards to the moon and stars. The light pollution was not as strong here as it was in other parts of the city, so he could see some of them overhead, and for just the barest moment, he basked in their light, shutting his eyes against the grim reality of his life and allowing himself to remember a time when he hadnā€™t understood just what he was. That ignorance had been his only truly free gift, and in the end, even it had come with a price, one he had not realized until it was too late.

ā€œThere is no one event which encapsulates all the evil I have done,ā€ he said, his eyes still closed. It hurt to look at her, and so he did not. ā€œBut it is one thing to do evil, and another to simply be it.ā€ Perhaps individual acts of sin were forgivable, but to be sin by his very nature? That wasnā€™t the kind of thing that could be forgiven. How does one forgive evil itself for the crime of existing? He was born wicked, and wicked he would always be, no matter how much he was taught of the ways that other people could and did walk in the light. All that knowing had brought him was guilt for his deeds. Guilt that never left him, and weighed him down like something palpable on his shoulders.

ā€œIn some ways, I am like your cousin. My father is a demon, and my mother was an Annunaki. The first, Esther.ā€ He opened his eyes, taking in the twinkling lights above, and he swallowed thickly. ā€œIn other ways, we are not alike at all. My father is wicked, hateful and evil in ways that I can only comprehend because I am half of him. The entire reason for my existence was to serve as his earthbound vessel one day, a task I will have no choice but to complete. I am the only thing strong enough, dark enough, to withstand the invasion of his soul for any length of time, and this was true before I was Death, even.ā€ Tilting his chin back down, he met her eyes for a moment, activating the latent ability in his marked eye until it turned red and black, the iris glowing eerily against the shadowy sclera.

With the eye active, he was looking straight into her soul, and he almost wept for what he saw. She had sinned of courseā€”everyone had. But against the light that burned at the very core of her, it was nothing. ā€œYour soul is beautiful,ā€ he told her, his words weighed down by sadness. Because he could also see the Death Clock over her head, and he knew that when the time came for it to wind down to nothing, the reprehensible task of destroying something so lovely would be his.

He let the effect fade, though the marked eye was still red, a sharp contrast to the blue one beside it. His motherā€™s color. ā€œMy father took my eye when I was a child, and replaced it with his own. A Watcherā€™s eye for a demonā€™s. I swore to my mother that I would never use the powers that were of him for any reason. It is not a promise that I have been able to keep.ā€ Heā€™d used them, in fact, against an angel, and then many times since.

ā€œI killed her.ā€ The admission was stark, flat, and almost unfeeling. But heā€™d never quite managed to smooth his face back over, and so it was evident that the memory still pained him to this day. ā€œI was a child, and I killed my mother. And now I am responsible for the death of yours as well. Just as I am responsible for your fatherā€™s fall, and the deaths of many other good people who thought they could save me or help me. Iā€¦ donā€™t want you to be one of them, Cassiel.ā€ She would be. He would kill her. But he didnā€™t want to taint what she had left.

She listened with a quiet patience she had learned from her mother. She listened to him call himself evil, how his father had taken his eye and replaced with his own, and how he killed his mother. He spoke of how he was like, in some ways, Kirito in the sense of who his parents were, and Cassiel could not help but feel her heart ache at the sight of him, his words, for him. But he was wrong. He wasn't the cause of her mother's death. That was not him. He was not the reason her mother was. She had not realized she was crying again until she had to suck in a breath. She did not know what possessed her, but her legs moved on their own accord, and she felt her arms entangle around him.

"No, Khalid you are not. You are not responsible for my mother's death. She chose her fate, she chose to die for Kirito, and she would do it again in a heartbeat because it was her choice. You had no part of her death. And you are not evil, Khalid. I...cannot see your soul, but you are not evil. You would not feel as you do if you were evil. You wouldn't be capable of feeling remorse for the things you did, if you were evil. And those who died for you did so because they believed that you are good, that you can choose your own fate," she stated, weeping into his shoulder as her arms tightened their hold.

"I don't know why dad fell for you, but he does not regret it. He wants to help, just as I want to. If I die doing so, it is because I choose to. People will always die, it is the course of nature. Some die sooner than others, whether it is natural causes or not, but one thing is certain; and that is Death. But it does not have to be a scary thing. It can be a beautiful thing because death brings about a new life, whether we can see it or not. I want to help you, Khalid, I do. You do not deserve this, and I wish...I wish I could have met you sooner, so that you would not have to be alone," she finally spoke.

She really, could not for the life of her, understand the way things were. Why did others have to lead such cruel lives? Why did those who were capable of so much good, feel themselves tainted by the evil that had wronged them? She wanted him to know that she cared enough that she would, if she had to, die for him if that is what it took. She would die for any of her family members, but the desire to help him was much stronger. She was so tired of the people she cared about, blaming themselves for her mother's death. It wasn't their fault, it never would be.

He was weak. So very weak that though he tried, he could not bring himself to say the words that would make her understand just how bad it wasā€”just how inescapable his fate. He was always alone, had always been. Heā€™d known something like companionship once in his life, in that century Michael had spent training him, teaching him to defend himself. The century after his fall. It was perhaps the only time heā€™d ever been casually in physical contact with someone, because Michael had always made a point of laying a hand on his shoulder or ruffling his hair or things like that, but he could not recall the last time he had been held.

It surely must have been his mother, but he could not remember it. Just like he sometimes could not remember her face, her voice. It had been so long ago, now, and the scant decade and spare years theyā€™d had together was so little compared to the full extent of his life. She existed in him now more as the memory of what heā€™d destroyed than what heā€™d had. It was guilt without a source, feeling without a spring to come from. She had faded from him, save only for one thing.

Donā€™t be afraid, Khalid. I will always love you. And I will be watching you from the stars.


Death had no tears left. He wasnā€™t sure if this was because heā€™d spent them all when he was a boy or because he was simply that empty. Perhaps the eyes of the Devil could cry none. Whatever the case, though, he was unable to share pain in the way Cassiel was doing, and though he knew that he should not accept even this much, that he should push her away and tell her just whose child he was, just what he would do to her, he could not bring himself to do it. It would hurt her, and, coward as he was, he could not face that. Not yet. Khalid was stiff in her arms, hesitant, but with a few false starts, he managed to raise his good arm, gloved just as the other was, and lay his hand gently on the crown of her head. He could not feel the texture of the aubergine strands under his fingers, but from the shine of them, he did not doubt that they were soft. Much of her was soft, he realized, and he didnā€™t quite know what to do with that.

Khalid let her cry until she was spent, the tears seeming to slow and her breathing evening, and then he raised his other hand to wind around her shoulders. ā€œHold on a moment,ā€ he instructed, fighting and mostly succeeding to keep his usual neutral tone of voice, wrapped around him like a cloak of protection, though from what, he fathomed not. He propped his chin on the hand that rested on her head, and then he closed his eyes and exhaled, pulling them both through spacetime until they were standing before the door to her apartment. He could feel her father within, and knew that Michael would sense him as well, but heā€™d also know that his daughter was unharmed, and heā€™d never been pushy. Wellā€¦ not when heā€™d sensed that Khalid needed to be left be, anyway.

He removed both arms from her person, then, stepping back half a pace. The familiar chill of his solitude was quick to fill the space between, as he was accustomed. These warm people could try as much as they likedā€”his world would always be cold. ā€œYou are very kind, Cassiel,ā€ he said softly, and shook his head. ā€œBut I would ruin you. It is my choice not to do that.ā€ It was one of the few heā€™d been offered in his life, and he could at least be certain that, just this once, he was making the right one.

She still wanted to cry. She could feel the tears bubbling in the back of her eyes, but there were none to spill. She had spent every last drop, soaking his shirt, her face, and the ground with her tears. He spoke, but she could not hear his words. The only thing she could hear was his heartbeat, and it sang to her in a gentle lullaby. Even when he told her to hold on, she did, because she was hypnotized by the song of his heartbeat, the way it sang its agonizing melody. And it only caused her heart to break more. How she wished she could change things, make them better for him, because he did not deserve this, to suffer. Sighing softly, she shook her head as his statement. Ruin her? It was too late for that, and though she did not realize it quite yet, she wouldn't mind, because he was her friend.

"As it is your choice to not ruin me, it is my choice to let you, and there, we have the conundrum," she spoke, her voice low and soft. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands before lifting her gaze to meet his. "You are still my friend, Khalid, still apart of my family. And I won't give up on you," she spoke to him, watching as he disappeared. And she meant it. She wouldn't give up on him, not ever.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Kirito Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK




Image




Image




Initially, Cassiel had been upset when Kirito left without telling anyone where he was going. To say she was surprised to find that he had left to claim Asmodeus' throne was an understatement. She was in literal shock, and had not spoken to him for three days after he had returned. She eventually spoke to him again since she couldn't stay mad at her cousin forever. She sighed softly, a smile gracing her lips as she pushed herself up from the couch. She had been reading an old book that belonged to her mother, one of her favorites. She placed it carefully back into its place, deciding to stretch her legs for a bit.

She left her apartment, and found her legs carrying her towards the roof. She couldn't exactly explain why, but she wanted to go to the top. Once she made it outside, she blinked in rapid succession as she peered at the scene in front of her. Kirito appeared to be fighting with Akeldama, however; a second glance showed differently. She smiled as she took a seat in the corner, watching as her cousin and the other horseman (or was it woman?) spar. She could tell that they were occupied with each other, watching and waiting as each one moved to attack and counter. When they finished, Cassiel clapped and smiled at the two of them.

"You are both getting very good," she spoke, praising them for their progress. "Though I would have made you something if I had known the two of you would be up here sparring with each other," she stated, allowing a light frown to pull at her lips. It was too late to do that now, however; if they were hungry, she would make something for them, or they could go down to the restaurant for something.


Kirito cracked his neck back into place as he rolled out his shoulders. Fighting with Akeldama, spar or no, was liable to kill you if you weren't careful. Famine wasn't really known for holding back, and Conquest hadn't wanted her to, either. He grinned over at his cousin. "I'd be careful what I offer her, she'll eat us out of house and home, literally. She is Famine, after all."

Dama stuck her tongue out at Kirito, who chuckled. She declared that she was off to find Khalid, and then disappeared. Kirito glanced over at Cassiel and smiled slightly, running a hand through the snow-white locks of his hair. "So, you're actually gonna start talking to me again?"


She chuckled at Dama's reaction before the white-haired girl took off to find Khalid. She turned towards her cousin, smiling softly and shaking her head. "I never stopped talking to you. I just didn't know what to say to you. You left without telling anyone, Kiki. I thought something had happened to you," she stated, her smile morphing into a light frown. She had thought something terrible had happened to her cousin, and she had nearly come to tears when she found out he was missing. She had thought the worst had happened to him until Uncle Asmodeus smoothed everything over. She was just upset afterwards.

"But you know I can't stay mad at you forever, even if you might make me go as white-haired as Uncle Asmodeus," she continued, allowing the smile to return to her lips in the process. Which was about as far from the truth, really. She worried about her cousin, always had, always will. It was just part of her nature. She worried about everyone really, even the ones known as Famine and Death. They were her family now, as odd as it had become. She took a deep breath and patted the spot next to her for Kirito to sit next to her.


Kirito rolled his eyes, sitting himself down next to his cousin. "Sorry, I've beaten you to the white hair, I'm afraid. Besides, I'm good at what I do, and driving people nuts is one of those things." He sat for a few moments, staring up at the sky. It was funny, really, just how naive the human race was. Most of them were going about their daily lives without a care in the world, completely oblivious to the battle around them; the world was slowly ending, and unless he and his family were able to do something about it, there wouldn't be a world anymore.

"So, what has my bookworm of a cousin been up to while I was gone? Any wild parties? Go out and get drunk? Oh, I know, maybe you went and got a tattoo, bet Uncle Cass would have loved that."


"You know, there is a difference in driving people nuts, and making them insane with worry," she replied, leaning into Kirito's shoulder and pushing him lightly with her own. She mimicked his action, glancing up at the sky and watching as it shifted slowly. She allowed her eyes to follow a flock of birds, watching as they passed by. A hint of envy passed through her eyes as she glanced at them. There were times she wished she could fly, just like the birds. It would be nice, or at least she thought it would be. She didn't have wings, not like Sephiriel, or her cousin. She didn't have that ability, but it was alright. Not everyone was meant for the sky, and she was happy just being here.

"Wild parties? Oh you know me too well, cousin. Indeed, I did get a tattoo, and there were a few parties I attended that could have used your flair," she retorted, a light grin pulling at her lips. She laughed softly before shaking her head. "What else would I be doing? I was worrying about you, trying to keep up with training, and worrying about you more," she replied with a light shake of her head. She had also been training, practicing her control of her pyrokinetic abilities and honing her martial arts techniques. Though she wasn't much of a fighter, with everything that was happening, she knew she had to be prepared for the just in case scenarios.

"Besides, someone had to besides Aunt Nana and Uncle Dei-Dei. And I do not doubt that you had your fair share of parties down in hell," she retorted, a light grin tugging at her lips again.


Kirito shrugged slightly, a grin on his face. "I had to keep my ass plastered to a chair made out of bone for ten weeks straight while Seph got to have all the fun. It sucked, really. I dunno how Dad did it all those years. Still, I made my bed, now I get to lay in it." He didn't regret it either, even if it did take him closer to his darker side than he liked to be. That was the sacrifice he'd made to get power, he couldn't very well go around whining about it.

"It's funny, really. Sometimes I really do wonder, why us? Out of all these people in the world, we're the ones to get chosen to save the world, or end it, all coming down to the choices we make. I gotta give you credit, frankly I don't get how you always manage to look so damned cheerful."


She sighed softly, folding her hands into her lap as she contemplated his words. It was true, there were times where she thought the same things, however; over the course of years, she had learned to accept them as they were. Fate was a fickle mistress, and sometimes the games she played were not always fair. Why they had been chosen, will always be a mystery. She glanced at Kirito, noticing the slight change in his expression. Why she always managed to look so damn cheerful? She frowned at those words.

"Because, Kiri," she replied, hugging her knee's to her chest. "What good will it do if I were always thinking of what is to come? I have you, I have my family, isn't that reason enough to still be smiling? Even after all we've been through, I smile because our family is falling apart. Everyone is forgetting how to smile, how to laugh, and it hurts. I figure, as long as I can keep smiling, being cheerful, that eventually, everyone will remember how to do it again. Losing mom, it...it took its toll on everyone," she continued, releasing a slow breath in the process.

"And I am grateful that it gets to be us to save the world, or bring about its end. We may not be fully human, but we can at least sympathize with the fact that our world may be drawing its last breath soon. I would it rather be me, than any other person, because..." why? Why would she rather it be her, her family, than someone else? She was envious, she would not lie, of those who could live normal lives, be ignorant to the other world that existed. She was envious that those who lived normal lives would never know of the struggles they were facing. She took a deep breath and glanced at her cousin.

"It affects me too, but I choose not to let it get the best of me. We are struggling, so very much, and I know that. I know that it's getting harder as the time goes by, because we don't know exactly when our time will come to save or end the world, but..." she paused facing the ground again as she did so. "I hope we can save it."


Kirito frowned at her explanation, and sighed roughly, rubbing the back of his neck. She had a few points, of course, but it had not been his intention to make her sad. He really need to filter his thoughts sometimes; he was way too much like his mother. He reached over, draping an arm around her shoulders and pulled her over, leaning his head on top of hers in an odd half-hug. "Hey. I can promise you that I'll never forget how to smile."

He stood up then, holding out his hand to help her up. "Come on. Didn't I promise you once that I'd take you flying? I'm pretty sure I never did make good on that promise."


She had not realized she was on the verge of crying, however; she felt Kirito pull her to him, and lay his head atop hers. She shook her head softly as she took his offered hand, hoisting herself up and dusting off her outfit. She allowed a grin to settle on her lips at the mention of flying. "No, you never did make good on that promise. And you made it three years ago," she replied. "Please...don't drop me."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen Character Portrait: Alkedama
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK




Image




Image




Cassiel smiled, a bright pink cotton candy laced in her fingers as she glanced around the carnival. Her father had brought Kirito, Sephiriel, Khalid, Akeldama, and herself to the carnival to get them all out of the complex. She had split with the group, going off on her own to explore the contents of the carnival, riding a few rides by herself, or with some random person who happened to need someone to ride along with. There was a small boy who was too young to ride by himself, and Cassiel had offered to ride with him, earning a bright smile in the process. His mother could not ride with him, and his brother was off flirting with a girl, too interested to bother with his younger brother.

In the end, she had made someone happy, and that was all that mattered to Cassiel. She was currently browsing more of the vendor games, and came across a peculiar sight. She blinked slowly, trying to gauge the reaction of the vendor who stood in the stall, his arms crossed against his chest as the snow-white haired Akeldama held his gaze. Were they having a staring contest? Finishing off the last of the cotton candy, she made her way towards the girl and the stall, stopping only momentarily to see if there was something wrong. Akeldama held the man's gaze, fiercely, and Cassiel tilted her head sideways.

"Dama, is something wrong?" she questioned, turning to face the girl in question. It must be something else, if there was nothing wrong at the moment, however; she would wait for the girl to respond.


Akeldama had been standing for well over half an hour with her arms crossed and her cheeks puffed out in a form of defiance, glaring at the old man who stood in front of her. Well, perhaps he wasn't old really, but to her, at least in appearance, he was. All she wanted was the stupid stuffed bear; she wasn't sure why, but it called to her, like some small memory that she couldn't place.

"Mr. Buttface won't give Dama the bear!" She pointed to it, a large fluffy white one, and then crossed her arms again as the man sighed, clearly exasperated.


Cassiel tried to keep the laugh bubbling within her stomach, stifled. Mr. Buttface? She glanced towards the older gentleman, offering him an apologetic smile as. "That is because you have to win it, Dama. They don't just give the prizes away for free. You have to earn it," she spoke to the horseman. She engaged the stall vendor in a light conversation before paying for a chance to win the coveted item Dama seemed so fond of. She tried a few times, failed each time, and frowned. She wanted to win this bear for Dama, so she could have it. With a determined look pulling at her face, she paid once more. It was her last attempt.

"Ah!" she allowed the startled expression to escape her when she finally succeeded, the man handing over the white bear in the process. Cassiel smiled brightly, hugging the large bear to herself before handing it to Dama. "Here you go, Dama!" she exclaimed, handing over the bear to the white-haired girl. She smiled still as she scrunched up her nose a bit. "Do you want to try anything else? Oh, I know!" she continued, a sudden thought crossing her mind. She knew the horseman was prone to a bottomless pit of a stomach, and she was probably hungry.

"Do you want to go get a funnel cake, or maybe some deep fried twinkies!?" she stated, listing off the different deserts they might have at the carnival.


Akeldama blinked huge red eyes at Cassiel, utterly surprised when the girl won her the bear. No one, aside from Khalid, had ever given her anything before, so she was a bit unsure of what to do as a way of reply. So, instead, she stayed silent, but smiled nonetheless. She cocked her head to the side as Cassiel listed off various foods. She had no idea what a twinkie was, but it sounded like it was sugary.

"Dama's never had a twinkie...what's a twinkie, Ceil?"


Cassiel blinked owlishly at Akeldama. She'd never had a twinkie before? She pursed her lips together, trying to think of the best way to describe the treat. She chewed her bottom lip for a second, her brows furrowing in the process. There was no real way she could properly describe the treat, other than it was sweet and really good. "They are like sponge cakes, but with cream filling. When they are deep fried, they come out really sweet and tasty," she tried, pursing her lips together again. It sounded a bit odd coming out of her mouth, however; it was the only way she could describe it.

"It's better if you just eat one. Come on, I'll go buy you one!" she stated, hooking her arm to Akeldama's and dragging the girl to the nearest food stall. She purchased three deep fried twinkies, two regular ones, and one covered in chocolate. She gave the chocolate one and regular one to Dama, keeping one of the regular ones to herself. "These are deep fried Twinkies, one in chocolate, and one regular. Try them, you will like it."


Dama held a twinkie in each hand, looking back and forth between the two, utterly unsure of which one to eat first. So, instead, she ate both of them at the same time. She chewed contemplatively before swallowing and breaking out into a huge grin and clapping. "Dama likes Twinkies! What else is there for Dama to eat?"

She was...excited. Khalid had always been kind to her, but...not in the way that Cassiel was. Cassiel was such a gentle and kind person, such that it actually pained Akeldama to know that, eventually, times such as these would be gone. It was one of the few times that the Horseman actually hated what she was, because she would be partially responsible for the end of everything. There would be no more Cassiel, or Kirito, or their families. No more deep-fried Twinkies or carnivals. There would only be death, and destruction.


"Ah, well if you want, there are still funnel cakes, hot dogs, cotton candy, popcorn balls," Cassiel began listing of the various foods the carnival had to offer, taking a bite every now and then from her twinkie. There were a lot of things here, thankfully, that the horseman could eat. It was just a matter of what she preferred to eat, or try. She glanced at Akeldama, noticing she had a bit of powder from the chocolate covered twinkie, and stifled the laugh in her throat. She grabbed a napkin from nearby and wet it with a nearby water fountain. With an extra in hand, she made her way back to the horseman.

"We could go on a few of the rides, or we can try and win more of the stuffed animals," she stated, wiping the powder from Akeldama's face, smiling as she tried to think of what else they could do. "Or we can just go see what else they have to munch on," she stated, throwing the napkin away. She glanced at Akeldama, and a sudden thought crossed her mind. She dug into the pocket of her coat, and produced a small red clip. She had been meaning to give it the horseman, however; Akeldama was always with Khalid or Kirito, and it was during times Cassiel was always elsewhere.

"I forgot to give this to you," she stated, moving so that she stood in front of Akeldama, and grabbed a few of the girl's loose bangs. She swept them to the side of her face and clipped the bangs back, nodding her head in satisfaction. "There, now your bangs won't be in your way and you can see better," she spoke, a large smile plastering on her face.


For a long moment, Akeldama had no idea how to react. In so many ways, it was just so unfair, that the Horseman suddenly wanted nothing to do with her destiny at all. She wondered if this was how Kirito felt all the time, torn between what he wanted to do and what he had to do; in some ways, her brother had it worse, he was both a Witness and a Horseman, she could only imagine how complicated that could be.

She didn't realize she'd been crying until she spoke, and hiccuped in the process. "Dama is supposed to be your enemy...why is Ceil so nice to Dama? Dama doesn't understand..."


For a minute, Cassiel almost panicked. She thought she did something wrong, and immediately she tried to comfort Akeldama. It wasn't until Akeldama started crying that Cassiel realized that she too, was crying. She shook her head softly, trying to comfort Akeldama and brought her into an embrace. They were not enemies. Perhaps, at one point they were supposed to be enemies, but they were not. Things were different for them, and even if they were enemies, she could not think of Akeldama as such. She had told Khalid that he was part of her family, and the same applied to Akeldama. If there had been a chance to save Bartram, she would have extended the same courtesy.

"Because, Dama, we are friends. You are part of my family now, and you could never be my enemy," she spoke, the warm tears still trailing down her face. "Even if we were enemies, Dama, I would never consider you as such. You didn't choose to be what you are, and it's unfair that you have to carry that burden with you, but you have us now. We can help you carry it, and I want to help you. You're my friend, Dama, just like Kal is. Please don't cry," she continued, trying her hardest to soothe the girl. She really didn't like it when people cried. Too many tears had been shed already, more did not need to follow.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sephiriel Character Portrait: Cassiel Fuhen
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image




Image




Cassiel sighed, pursing her lips together as she stared at the book in her hands. She was currently situated in Central Park, having retreated there after everyone had left to do their own thing. She thought a bit of fresh air would have been good for her studying, however; she could not seem to get her mind to concentrate on the subject at hand. Surprisingly, she was currently reading a book on Nephilim. There were many interpretations of what a Nephilim was. One regarded them simply as fallen angels, another as the offspring of Seth, and another as the offspring of an Angel.

One of them had at least been somewhat correct. She was the child of a fallen angel, another interpretation of what a Nephilim was, and another Nephilim. She shook her head softly rolling from her spot on the grass and sat up. She glanced up at the sky, watching as the clouds rolled idly by, and smiled. There was not a day that went by that she did not still think of her mother, however; the initial grief she had, she was now recovered from. The pain of losing a parent will always be present, but she was able to cope with it, able to accept it and move on with her life.

She knew that her mother was watching over her, and her family, and it was enough to know that. It made it easier to cope, and eventually heal. She shook her head free of the thoughts as she placed the book back in it's bag, leaning back so that she was rested against her forearms. "It's a pretty day, today. I wish it could stay like this more often," she spoke to no one in particular. It was a rather lovely day to begin with. The air, for the most part, was clear; the temperature warm and fair enough so that it wasn't too cold, nor was it overbearingly hot. It was pleasant, and she closed her eyes as a soft breeze passed by.

Sephiriel had gone with Cassiel, as Kirito was with his parents and the girl otherwise alone. Sheā€™d been content to let Cassie be to read and whatever else she wanted to do, just as she tended to leave Kirito alone whenever he went to dance with his friends or whatever else sparked his interest. Unless explicitly invited, she didnā€™t generally assume her presence was requested, just to be safe. But when the girl spoke aloud and there was nobody else around, Sephiriel glanced down from the tree she was sitting in, only a short distance from Cassie. Sheā€™d been lost in thought, largely about the past, absently running her thumb across the inscription on the back of her necklace.

When she realized she was doing it, she frowned slightly and tucked it back under her shirt, the only evidence of its presence the thin silver chain visible over the collar of her t-shirt. She contemplated Cassieā€™s wordsā€”it was spring now, and admittedly, the conditions were extremely pleasant. The color of the grass was almost a match for Sephirielā€™s eyes, and the new leaves in the park smelled fresh. It was entering her fourth year on this plane, just barely. Almost half a year since she and Kirito had first descended into Hell.

ā€œIt is pleasant,ā€ she agreed, and she was speaking of more than the weather. There really was something nice about this, even though she knew that tragedy shadowed behind them and even more of it loomed ahead of them. She would once have thought that threat sufficient to ignore the nearness and pleasantness of the present to prepare for what would come, but she was slowly learning that if one spent all the pleasant moments in fear of the unpleasant ones, there would be nothing left to fight for anyway. So she allowed herself a bit of relaxation now and then, though she tried not to lower her guard. She was protecting something precious after allā€”the lives of the Witnesses. She understood what Death meant now, when heā€™d told her he wanted to give them time.

ā€œSpringā€¦ has always been my favorite season.ā€ Seph smiled ruefully. From the way she behaved most of the time, that was not necessarily easy to guess. She seemed much more like a winter person, harsh and unforgiving. Cassiel seemed much more like spring than Sephiriel did, with that inner warmth in her. It was a quality she shared with her father, though Caspar had always been more of a summer, to her.

Cassiel smiled as she glanced up towards the tree Sephiriel had been sitting in. "It should be everyone's favorite season. Spring heralds the beginning of new life, when things come to life and blossom to fill the world with color. It is a beautiful season," she spoke, tilting her head slightly from side to side. She enjoyed the winter season more than anything else, simply for the snow and the things she could build from it. Spring was a season to awe at, or at least to her it was. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, her eyes glazing over slightly. She wondered for a moment, what the world would be like if they failed to save it, to rescue it.

"Hey, Seph," she started, pushing those thoughts away as she leaned her head back to stare at the angel. "Was... there ever a time where you wanted to do something else, be something else?" she questioned softly. Kirito's words still haunted her from time to time, and she wondered if everyone felt like that. Why were they, of all people, chosen to be what they were? Cassiel came to terms with that a long time ago, however; she could see that it bothered Kirito from time to time. She wondered, for a moment, if her father had felt like that too at one time, or her mother.

"I...you don't have to answer that if you don't want to. I will understand," she continued, smiling warmly to reassure that she would not be offended if the angel chose not to answer. It was, after all, a personal question, somewhat.

There was perhaps a time when the angel would not have even bothered to consider the question, but now was not that time. Sephiriel blinked, then tipped her head back to look at the sky through the canopy of leaves over her head. Something like a sigh escaped her lips, and she pursed them thoughtfully. ā€œYou have to understand,ā€ she began slowly, ā€œThat when we were created, there was nothing else to be. We were there before this plane was ever created. Back then, there was only Heaven, and Darkness. Ages and ages, I suppose you could say, onlyā€¦ perhaps there was not time, either. Perhaps it was only a single moment, but an eternity encapsulated. There areā€¦ not words to describe it in any language, but youā€™d understand, if ever you stood in His presence.ā€

Her lips quirked ruefully. She wasnā€™t explaining this very well. But then again, she wasnā€™t sure it could be explained, not really. ā€œIt isā€¦ very difficult to stand in the divine presence and want to be anywhere else, anything other than whatever you are that is blessed enough to be there, to go to war or watch over peace for Him. What more could one ever want than that? Butā€¦ā€ she lowered her chin, and met Cassieā€™s eyes across the distance that separated them. ā€œWhen your kind were created, and your world came into being, it grew easier. Lucifer was the first to want something else, but he was not the last. Some desired greater station. Some onlyā€¦ some only wanted love of a kind they could not have anywhere but here. Your grandfather was the case of that.ā€

Uriel had voluntarily resigned his rank, his position, his servitude and everything that he had been, all for the sake of one human woman and the daughter sheā€™d borne him. Sephiriel had been furious. Donā€™t you know that it will be for nothing in less than a century? Why give up eternity for a paltry hundred years? Heā€™d smiled at her then, and sheā€™d not understood why. She still didnā€™t, exactly, but she was beginning to. ā€œSome fell because they were weak, and othersā€¦ because they were strong.ā€ She remembered facing Michael down, and how her heart had broken to see her brother willing to fight her for the sake of the Devilā€™s own child. He had understood something she did not, as well. And he had fallen for it, because she was too stubborn to see, to question.

Maybe she still was. But she didnā€™t know that for certain anymore.

ā€œAs for me personally? ā€¦No. I donā€™t think I have. Certainly, there are times when I have wished to be stronger, or times when I have wished that someone else bore the burdens fate has laid upon me, but in the end, these are either things that I have worked towards without altering my nature or passing fancies that I have since abandoned. I do not think I have ever wanted to be anything other than I am. What is the point? I am what I amā€”my energy is better spent being the best possible version of myself that I can.ā€

She listened intently to every word Sephiriel was speaking. It was difficult to understand, having been born what she was, she couldn't really understand what that feeling was like. But some part of her almost did. It was a small, barely recognizeable part, but there nonetheless. She had smiled partially when Sephiriel mentioned her grandfather. She knew parts of the reason why he fell, and honestly, Cassiel had thought it a bit romantic in a sense. It wasn't the romance that appeared in one's mind at first mentioning, but more of the romanticism that one found when enamored in music or some form of literature. She shook her head softly, tearing her gaze from Sephiriel for a second.

"You are what you are," she repeated carefully, a dull note lingering behind her voice. It was unusual for it to be there, but she gave no more thought to it. "Perhaps, you are right. Being what you are is nothing more than that, but that doesn't mean it has to be who you are. I...you're right when you say I do not understand, and I probably never will, but," she began, pausing just for a moment before shaking her head and smiled. "I'm glad you are here, Sephiriel. If...if it were not for you, I don't think Kirito would be as he is today. He's changed...a lot, and it's mainly because of you," she spoke.

She wasn't sure exactly, how that would sound to Sephiriel, but she had noticed the subtle changes in Kirito's behavior, small as they were. They began the moment Sephiriel came to them, and she was slightly grateful to the angel for that. She might not have been as observant as her mother was, but she could see that the shared effect lingered on Sephiriel as well. She wasn't as...strict as she once was. Perhaps not the proper thought, but it was there.

Sephirielā€™s brow furrowed. That wasā€¦ perhaps the opposite of what she was supposed to be doing. She wasnā€™t to interfere with their choices, but allow them to do as they would, and protect them even when they chose stupidlyā€¦ like spending a few months in Hell that would have otherwise been by oneself. And gotten the idiot killed. The angel sighed slightly, shaking her head. ā€œI hope not,ā€ she said at last. Even so, she didnā€™t feel that it was necessary to elaborate on that much, so she addressed something else instead.

ā€œAnd you donā€™t have to understand Cassiel. Youā€™re not an angel. Humans, or those with human blood, are different. You have a lot more freedom and choice than we do. You can shape yourselves with your own choices in ways that we simply canā€™t. Youā€™re allowed to be whomever you want.ā€ A small smile played at the edges of her mouth without ever quite taking hold. Sheā€™d been a lot more bitter about things like this once, though sheā€™d never been as bad as Asillian. It had mostly bother that they could choose things that would condemn an angel and be forgiven for it, attain the Heaven that a fallen lost forever.

She found that now, she simply accepted it. They needed to be able to choose. She didnā€™t. That was the difference, maybe. And she wouldnā€™t want to take their choices away from them, not any longer. Not now that sheā€™d seen what they could do, when given options she did not have.

Cassiel laughed softly at Sephiriel's first response. She had not meant it like that, only that he was changing himself to be better, because of her. She didn't understand it herself, really, but she was still grateful nonetheless. The smile faltered slightly when Sephiriel continued. She was right, she didn't have to understand, but it would make things easier if she could. Or at least she thought it would be. The smile returned to her face as quickly as it disappeared though. She was allowed to be whomever she wanted... that thought was enough to cause her to sigh.

"There are a lot of things I want to be, but who I want to be..." she paused, blinking slowly as she mused the thought over. Who did she want to be? "Who I want to be is someone that can at least leave life a little brighter. It has become dark, but not so much that it cannot be fixed. It's a silly thought really, shadows will always lurk. But I think that, if there was just a little more light, it could be more bearable," she finally stated. She shook her head at herself and laid on her back, stretching her arms out.

"You're lucky, Seph, you get to fly," she stated, changing the subject on the matter. "I wish I had wings so I could fly too," she continued, smiling when she remembered when Kirito finally took her. She had told him not to drop her, but being who he was, he nearly scared her half to death. He almost did drop her, though she couldn't tell if it was on purpose or if it was on accident.

Sephiriel blinked. Of all the gifts she had been given as part of her nature, flight was indeed her favorite, thoughā€¦ ā€œI think that humans were not given wings so that they would learn to look up,ā€ she said quietly, frowning a little. ā€œToo often, my kind look down.ā€ There was a pause, and then Sephiriel seemed to regain some of her usual businesslike demeanor. ā€œBesides, if you want to fly, Kirito is not the only one who can take you, you know. I would be happy to do so as well.ā€

Cassiel's eyes lit up when Sephiriel said she would take her flying, however; she pursed her lips together. "Though I wish I could fly, I think I may stay grounded for a bit," she replied. She did want to fly, but Kirito's accident had her second guessing flying with anyone else at the moment. "And if we were meant to look up, and too often your kind looks down, then that is where we meet in the middle," she spoke, shaking her head in the process. If humans were meant to look up, it was to look up for faith, and if angels were looking down, it was to be reassured that though He was loved, it was to they that humans prayed to, too.