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| [Graded]A New Life | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 3 2014, 06:40 PM (986 Views) | |
| Morti | Apr 3 2014, 06:40 PM Post #1 |
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Embodiment of Pandemonium/Aspect of Sacrifice
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A soft breeze pushed between buildings, a breeze that had been slowly building for the last hour or so. The sky was dotted with white clouds against the boundless blue, occasionally passing across the sun. Off in the distance, if one strained their eyes, the wall of black clouds could be spotted, an oncoming storm to disturb the gentle day. Despite it, people still moved about the streets without worry. Bustling from shop to shop, interacting with one another, the way humans seemed to. Every part of this day was alien to Zeph, from the sky to the earth, from the people to the animals. It was hard from him to take in without the vibrant memories of his own world coming back to him. This country, Fiore, had been the epicenter of Zeref's wrath upon Incendia. His demons had spread out like a plague, leaving nothing, but fire and destruction in its wake. To see the same place, so full of life, it made him wonder what destiny this world had, when all Incendia knew was fire. For about two months, Zeph would wander into the town and simply walk around, examining everything there was. He had awoken not far and had stumbled upon the town purely on accident. Every day he would come, black parasol up, coat and gloves on. At first the towns folk had been wary of his presence, such a stranger was no unheard off, but the fact that he did not make contact with a single person was what threw them all off. However, in time, they accepted him and went about their day, leaving him in peace. After the first five days, Zeph had collapsed in town, he had not eaten or drank anything since his awakening. As a demon, he had had no need for nourishment, or even rest for that matter, and because of that, had nearly died from dehydration and starvation. The humans had rescued him, feeding him and giving him a place to stay. With no purpose in this world, the innkeeper was gracious enough to give him odd jobs, in exchange for a good meal and a warm bed. Humans... Such curious things they were, helping a complete stranger in his time of need without a single demand. In Incendia, when a demon had become to weak, the others would kill him. They all knew that if they did not, then that one weak demon could bring down the rest in battle. Survival had been the only thing that any cared about, but here it was different. Sitting on a bench, off on the side of the main street of the market, Zeph merely watched the humans pass him by, comfortably under the shade of his parasol. His world had no sun, so its light, its very presence, unnerved Zeph, which was a new sensation, like being tired or hungry. So kind, these people were, it made him curious to see what else was out in the world. |
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| Maugres | Apr 3 2014, 08:46 PM Post #2 |
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D-Class
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Astor shielded his eyes as he looked up to the sky. The fine weather he’d been enjoying all week was to be rudely interrupted by an oncoming storm. He slumped low and let out a deep almost depressing sigh. Tully village was a great place for him to start up anew and settle down. Up until now he had been going from town to town never using the same name twice and always looking over his shoulder, he lived off of odd jobs and the occasional friendly inn keep let him take a room if he promised to help bring in the next shipment of ale or what not; a task he usually managed alone. For the past week or so he’d lived in a small room at one of the many local inns, his income was steady as a physical laborer in the most general sense possible. Many of the towns citizen where much older than himself and they paid well to have someone do the hard work of anything from carrying boxes to moving furniture. Having just finished helping an old woman move in to a new home Astor was still wearing his work clothes which were a simple white tank top and overalls with brown work boots. Freshly paid, Astor’s wallet was ripe with jewels he was only to eager to spend. The shops in town were as busy as always even in despite of the incoming storm. The smell of fresh baked bread was strong in the air and unknowingly Astor followed it to a small bakery of one of the side roads just by the market. He walked in and before he could fully grasp it he was walking out with all sorts of pastries ranging from sweet bread to pound cake. Walking out the door he questioned of maybe he should control his spending a bit more but after a single deep inhalation the smell of his purchase reassured him that there’s no need to worry, things are good now. Bag in hand He made his way through the market and decided he’d stop and enjoy his snack at his favorite bench just off of the main street. As per usual the market was electric with activity, despite being a town full of seniors there was a lot of hustle and bustle at the markets at all times of the day. Carefully making his way through the street, making sure not to bump in to any one and drop his precious cargo Astor came through the other side and laid eyes upon his destination. For a split second Astor’s heart skipped a beat. The bench, no his bench, was taken by a strange lad clad in all black and with a parasol set against the sun almost as if it was a rough rain threatening to fall upon the boys pale skin. Astor stood for a moment his breathing heavy with anger as this small mishap which in his mind was construed as an affront to his very being. But as quickly as it came the anger was cast aside a lifetime of anger management had tough him to control his frequent urges for violence. The wind blew again and the smell of bread in all its forms filled Astor’s nostrils. The delicate aroma spoke to him in words only he knew and ultimately convinced him to simply take a seat next to the man and enjoy this fine sun before it’s gone in a thunderclap. He made his way to the bench and let his body fall in to the wooden stricture with a loud thump. His back and legs sang songs of relief to him and he let out a sigh, except this time; it was of peace. He turned his head to the man in black and tilted the brown paper bag of splendor towards him and as he pondered what in the world could cause a person’s hair to be so red yet skin so pale he asked a question, the only question that could possibly matter at this particular point in space and time; ”Want some bread?” Edited by Maugres, Apr 3 2014, 10:32 PM.
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| Morti | Apr 4 2014, 12:12 PM Post #3 |
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Embodiment of Pandemonium/Aspect of Sacrifice
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It was quite normal for Zeph to not take notice of a single human's movements, so he was quite surprised when his eyes seemingly snapped onto a particular human out of the crowd. At first, he could not understand what it was about him that had pulled his attention, but after a moment it became apparent. He had notice this one man, because he was on a bee line straight towards himself. This did not worry the young man, but it did cause him to tip his head to the right slightly as he examined the older man. He was quite rough, appearing to be a very hands on individual. Even with the work clothes that currently clad his body, he stuck out from the gentle residents of the village. He was a man who had seen a good share of evils. Without turning his head, Zeph's burnt orange eyes followed the man up till he dropped into the seat to his left. There was, perhaps, only a second of silence between them before the man tilted the brown paper bag he had been holding towards Zeph. He could smell the sweet aroma that wafted up from it, invoking a feeling of... Serenity? Human emotions, so difficult to discern at times, but he would think on it at a later point, for the man had spoken. A proposition, offering of food that resided within the bag. Zeph turned his head so that he may look directly at the man, before his eyes slide down to the bag. Nodding slowly, he hesitantly reached into the bag and took out a piece of the sweet bread. Holding it between his fingers, Zeph examined it. He was somewhat familiar with bread, as it was a part of his dinner almost every night since he began staying at... The inn, he could never remember it's obscure name. This bread, though, was different. It smelled sweet and its surface was much softer. Resigning his curiosity, he took a small bite. Almost immediately, his eyes widened in surprise. Almost wildly, he looked to the man beside him, as if demanding an explanation for what it was he was tasting. Slowly, he chewed, calming himself physically as he savored its taste. He had never eaten anything so delicious before. Swallowing that first bite, he looked back to the man beside him, "What sort of magic is this? I did not realize that such objects of nutrition could be so... extraordinary once consumed!" Zeph's own expression was, priceless. He appeared to be surprised by his outburst of such words. They had felt natural, but he had always made it a point to converse as little was possible with the humans in order to hide his ignorance of the world. Turning away and looking back at to the crowd, he took another small bite of the piece bread that he had taken. |
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| Maugres | Apr 4 2014, 02:05 PM Post #4 |
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D-Class
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In his life Astor had questioned many things, life, friends, enemies, trust, ect. Trillium had taught him that no one and nothing where ever to be trusted, that mentality was not only fine in the day to day hustle of Trillium but some would say it was a necessity, however, even in a city where your own mother could sell you out Astor had never before seen anyone question a simple sweetbread with such intensity before. For a moment the thought that maybe this young man though the bread was poisoned crossed Astor’s mind but then the boy took a small bite from the aromatic pastry. The man’s eyes shot open and Astor’s breath froze mid exhale as he worried that he’d somehow harmed this red haired apparition that inhabited the space of this simple bench with him, that maybe bread was the key to bringing this souls to the afterlife in peace. Astor breathed again with a slow inhale that and the sweet smell of bread returning him to the reality before him. The man was still there, for he was not an apparition or lingering sentiment, he was just someone who’d never savored a loaf of sweetbread before. Astor chuckled at the moment, both for his own ludicrous thoughts and the young man’s reaction. He reached in to his bag and pulled out an apple cider doughnut with great anticipation. The young man contained his excitement and finished chewing his first bite of the bread. Astor took a large chunk out of his doughnut in one fell swoop and proceeded to chew it with all the delicacy of rabid hound after a fresh kill. In his mind he scolded himself for eating so uncouthly but even still he didn’t stop. The young man swallowed his bread and then verbally exploded with a force so powerful that Astor began to choke on his beloved doughnut. He coughed violently and turned away from the young man as he did, he did this for just under a minute and with a few strong beats of his chest the pastry was dislodged from his airways. He took a deep breath, then another. Once he’d regained his composure he turned back to the man who had almost literally scared him to death. Astor though of a way to respond to the young mans outburst without coming across as rude. After a second or so he decided the blunt approach was the best one. ”It’s called sweet bread. I’m not too sure if there’s any magic involved in the production but I doubt it.” He mulled over the boys choice of words after despite having already replied. ”By the way, I’m Astor and you… you’re not from around here. What brings a young man like you to a town of old folk and leisure? ” As he spoke he couldn’t help but look to the man’s hair instead of his eyes, it was just so red. |
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| Morti | Apr 5 2014, 05:57 PM Post #5 |
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Embodiment of Pandemonium/Aspect of Sacrifice
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Young... Yes, the man was right, the body that Zeph currently inhabited was young in the standards of humans. Of course, who would believe that he was actually a centuries old demon whose consciousness had been moved across the worlds and placed into the this body after his own was torn apart by an unknown magic, which had originated in this world roughly a decade ago. Even when magic was accepted, there were still things that lie within the realm of impossibility, and his story would be difficult for humans to comprehend. So what was he too say in response? It was quite the conundrum for Zeph, one that was oddly relieving. Lying wasn't something that Zeph had ever needed to do before, although it would seem that it may be necessary in order to hide his past. Of course, that did not mean he had to lie, it was possible to speak the truth without revealing everything at once, after all, he had no idea how a human would react if one of them found out that he was, by nature, a demon of Zeref, but from a parallel world to this one. The trick was finding that correct way of wording his situation, without lying and without say everything, while it remained completely plausible. "This was the first place I stumbled upon when I awoke, two months ago. Before that, I do not have a single memory of this world, other than a name that I believe is my own," While he spoke, Zeph mulled over what name he should give. As a demon his name had been Zephyrius, but he was no longer that being, he was someone new, but he couldn't just shed his previous identity, while retaining the little he could remember from his human counterparts life, "I am Zeph Erez." He thought this worked just fine. Everything he said was not a lie, simply not the full story. He was getting pretty good at this whole being human thing. It was then that he noticed where Astor's eyes had been the whole time, glancing up, he saw what it was that had been holding his attention. His hair was red, not just red, but the reddest of reds at there was. Zeph, believe it or not, had yet to see his own reflection. So, he did not know a whole lot about his physical appearance. Looking back to Astor he inquired, "Is there something wrong with the color?" |
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| Maugres | Apr 5 2014, 11:54 PM Post #6 |
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D-Class
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The man spoke of awakening with no recollection of the past. Normally a story like that would draw more questioning from Astor but instead the irony of the moment assured him it was tru . Next to him was a man who'd escaped his past, whether it be on purpose or not was another story but the fact remained; he had no recollection of this world, however, Astor had spent the last few years moving around trying to make sure that the demons of his past could never catch up with him and finish the work of ending his life. Yet here they both where, sitting on a bench in a town neither of them knew and trying to just move forwards despite whatever lay behind them. Astor shot up in his seat when the man mentioned if there was anything wrong with his hair. Quickly he tried to find the words but Astor’s face and sudden change in demeanor showed his surprise and embarrassment. ”No! There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just…it’s just very vibrant is all. It stands out a lot. Not that that’s a bad thing…” Astor took a large bite of his doughnut to silence himself and avoid any further foolishness on his part. He took the moment to regain his composure and come back to the conversation with something less rude. ”Ah, so you’re some kind of amnesiac. Do you have any idea what could have caused your memory loss?“ Astor decided that perhaps trying to find the cause of Zeph’s memory loss would sweep away some of the rudeness of questioning the man’s hair. He pointed to a scar around the man eyebrow ”Did you get attacked?” Astor traced the scar with his eyes and then moved on to find a few more on the man body, they were faint and nearly invisible, but they were there. Unwillingly Astor vocalized his thoughts upon realizing the scars in a low voice ’Where ever you’re from… must have been rough.” There was a low crack of thunder in the distance as the storm was making its way closer to the village. The shop keeps nearby where finalizing their last transactions before closing for the day and packing up to retire for what was quickly becoming a stormy afternoon. Astor sighed once again at the thought of rain. ”Looks like the weather isn’t going to be staying nice for much longer.” his voice rang with disappointment as he stood up facing the incoming storm. Edited by Maugres, Apr 7 2014, 06:28 PM.
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| Morti | Apr 7 2014, 07:17 PM Post #7 |
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Embodiment of Pandemonium/Aspect of Sacrifice
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Zeph watched the slowly thinning crowds around them. In everything humans did, there was a sense of urgency. Was it because there was always more to do? Or perhaps it was due to their short life spans. Whatever the reason, there never seemed to be enough time for them, even now, with all the people finishing their shopping, heading home, or wherever their next destination may be, believing that their day was done and that they could relax. Even their relaxation was a forced act, an attempted to slow down, for even a moment. He only half listened to Astor as he tripped over his own words, probably feeling some odd human emotion in relation to Zeph's inquiry about his hair color. Such odd creatures, so complex. However, he did hear the next question load and clear. It made him wonder what exactly had occurred, not to him, but to the period of time between him being pulled from his world and awakening in this one. His internal clock was far more sensitive to the movement of time, so he had been full aware of the eleven year gap. One of the many questions that he would never get an answer to. "Before I had awoken, my last memory is of a light. It overwhelmed and overtook everything I was, burning it away like flames cleansing the earth. All I remember is the light, and the pain it brought with it," Unlike a human, there was no reflection of any emotionally response towards the event. It was like he was talking about the weather. To a human ear it may seem unnatural, but to Zeph it did not. Perhaps it was because he had been a demon, perhaps it was because he had not been born, but been created. Looking up at the dark clouds rolling in, he observed as they moved over the sun, blocking out its immaculate light. Standing up, moments after Astor, Zeph grabbed the parasol with both hands and closed it, now that the sun had been covered, he no longer feared its rays of light. "I would suggest we find shelter before the storm unleashed onto this area." |
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| Maugres | Apr 7 2014, 08:37 PM Post #8 |
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D-Class
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Astor listened to the monotone hum that was Zeph’s voice as he spoke of his last memory. The event seemed almost cataclysmic and yet there was no emotion or even care in his tone and demeanor. Astor Tried to grasp what is could cause a person so young to be so broken. Astor couldn’t place Zeph anywhere on the thin strip that is human emotions. Even apathy strike him as too caring, too human a word for Zeph; was he even alive? Astor took a deep breath to pick up Zeph’s scent; he was defiantly alive, the smell of the living was thick on him just like everyone else. ”That sounds… Dramatic. Seems like you’re lucky to be alive. Well, hopefully you get your memories back.” Astor’s words were low and seeded with questions unasked. It was not that he didn’t believe Zeph. It was simply that the man was peculiar in every way one could conceivably be. Astor remembered many near death moments in his life, if asked he could state each one in order with great detail. It’s normal to be somewhat emotional about those things, or so, Astor assumed. Thick clouds began to cover the sun and Zeph stood from his seat. Astor noticed that Zeph had closed his umbrella and raised an eyebrow. ”You know… most people use umbrellas for the rain, not the sun.”He began walking down the market street without waiting for Zeph to finish his sentence. ”I know a good inn around here. The ground floors a full-fledged bar too! Not many other places in this town to escape the rain I’m afraid.” A strong wind blew in and the clouds began to come faster. Before either of them could move more than a few feet there was a loud clap of thunder and the sky let down its payload. Heavy rain started down with an unforeseen force. Quickly Astor rolled up the top of his bag and ran to the side of the street where the awning of a local flower shop served as shelter for a brief moment. Once under he let out a groan of frustration. ”I hate the rain!” His words came out in a loud roar, far angrier than any man should ever be over weather. After a few deep breath he calmed himself and pointed down the road. ”Should only be a few more blocks this way” |
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| Morti | Apr 10 2014, 12:46 AM Post #9 |
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Embodiment of Pandemonium/Aspect of Sacrifice
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Zeph was not particularly good at picking up things in a human's voice. So when Astor respond in regards to his story, he did not pick up on the fact that Astor wished to get more information from him on the subject. If the man had simply stated exactly what he wanted to know, Zeph would have told him, rather unfortunately, for he did not see a reason to outright lie about his past. Worst came to worst, Astor would simply not believe his tale of being a demon in the past. Though the subject was moot as he turned the conversation along the idea of seeking shelter from the storm. Having started walking, the young man, seeing no reason to do otherwise, followed silently. No sooner had the words about a close inn left Astor's mouth, the sky made the sound like the earth ripping open and a flash of brilliant light streaked to the ground somewhere in the distance. As if on cue, the rain dropped from the sky to the thirst ground below, catching Zeph and Astor in the process. Zeph did not mind the rain, in fact, he found it refreshing. Before his awakening, he had had no concept of rain. The only clouds he had ever seen was the pitch black ones that perpetually cover the sky in his world, and they weren't even clouds, just dense smoke from the endless conflict and destruction. Looking to the sky, Zeph closed his eyes, letting the rain wash over him as he walked, taking no action to get out of the water. The sound growling shout from Astor did bring Zeph's attention back down. It would seem that his unease with the sun was matched by the man before him's hatred for the rain. He watched as Astor calmed himself, at this point it was apparent to him that his companion had a few of his own demons within him, a beastly nature that he had to fight. Merely nodding, Zeph allowed Astor to lead the way to the inn, unsure of the direction they were going. |
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| Maugres | Apr 10 2014, 07:30 PM Post #10 |
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D-Class
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There was a hurried splashing sound as Astor rushed down the road. The rain was soaking him through his clothes and it was beginning to bother him greatly. He looked back at Zeph who was clearly not bothered by the torrential downpour that they found themselves in. The rain quickly intensified and the drops began to sting against Astor’s back as he walked. the streets where completely empty as most of the town residents had already hurried in to their homes and the few who didn’t had already made way towards a pub or bar to wait it out. The inn That Astor was heading to was a small one, but well known for its fine ale and frequent local talents that would perform on the small corner stage. Since he’d come to the town Astor had only gone in once or twice as it was a long walk from the cheaper in he was staking at across town. The front of the inn held an old wooden sign that read “The half-moon: inn and bar” with a drawing of a house on a horizontally split moon. ”This is our stop. Best ale in town if you ask me!” His voice was filled with cheer. An escape from the rain was welcome and so was an excuse to stop by what was quickly becoming his favorite place in town after the bakers shop. He pulled open the heavy door and turning his head gestured for Zeph to go in. The inside of the inn was like that of a log cabin. The entire structure was made of wood and the support beams seemed to be entire trees with only the bark and branches removed. At the far end one could see the bar; a long table made of heavily knotted wood. Light was provided by a series of lacrima powered lights that hung from the various wooden beams supporting the second floor above them. In the corner to their left a small raised stage held a single woman playing her lute in a rather folksy tune. Astor walked straight up to the bar and took a seat on one of the stools that lined its side. ”Come my boy! Have a drink on me!” As he spoke he signaled to the bartender for service. ”I’ll have a pint of your best ale. Make that two, one for my friend here.” Astor didn’t bother to let Zeph pick a drink, the man was strange enough as is, better to just get him something before he ordered something odd like milk or water. The bartender brought the drinks quickly "They'll be 10 jewels." Astor placed the money in to the bartenders hand and took a long drink from his glass. The ale here was sweeter than the usual, Astor liked sweet, he also like hearty flavors but it was easy to find good meat for the most part. Good ale was a different story as was good company. He placed his mug down and turned to Zeph. ”So, how do you like Tully so far?” |
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