The August air was warm and the sun bright. Armande almost eschewed his full sleeve dark purple exercise shirt in favor of something more...open. But somehow it just felt...odd. The fabric did well enough, wicking away any moisture so that he felt cool.

He had forgotten when clean air tasted and smelled like this. Between Rome and Moscow, the last few years had kept him in metropolitan environs.

But now, the nearly endless blue before him, the clean majesty of the lake, the fresh air seemingly born in the surrounding trees...Armande felt young. Truth be told, he did not yet feel his age. Aside from an occasional ache, he woke each morning vigorous.

Valeriya, standing by his side, could attest to that. Not that he would say anything out loud. At least to others. She knew, though, that with her he felt young again. A man in his prime. Not simply because she was his consort. Some sort of arm candy to show off. The thought made him shake his head in horrified laughter. No. She was a lioness. His equal. Viscious and tender at the same time in confusing ways.

Ways he was happy to enjoy. In terms of number, he was only half done with his life.

To his other side was Rowan. Another mystery. What she and Vale shared was something he couldn't fathom. But against all logical thought, together, they formed twinned sets of eyes. Despite what she was, he found himself intrigued at her esoteric knowledge. She was no fool.

She and Vale represented traditions outside of the Occidental. He knew his blind spots. A western oriented education sometimes made one oblivious to the larger world, despite his efforts

And Armande hated not knowing. It made him itch, as if someone was sneaking up behind him. Not just wisdom. Fate. But for the first time, he had Eyes that saw into the dark unknown. Showed him the way.

And he had found his peace. Rowan was not his to destroy. She was a tool. And an ear. And an eye. And she brought joy to his beloved. For that alone, he was content to leave be. He was not God or Fate. That realization had somehow.. set him free. He would do what he must. But knowing there was a larger force at work was curiously liberating.

So here they stood at the shoreline, having left the village of Listvyanka only a short time ago. He marvelled. The plates underneath continued to move in opposite direction, creating a rift that only grew deeper and deeper.

In truth, that had been the key. There, back in Moscow, he had read the Cyrillic phonetic characters and Vale had recognized them, Evenki words. Enough of the writing on the skin. The "Naval of the World" and the "rivers four that become one". What they sought, he did not know. The map was evasive. Or maybe some of the words elusive, unknown. The "destroyer" stood out. But what was the "swapping"? And the "birthplace"?

"Tree of knowledge" was certainly recognizable, but also generic. The Tree granting the "key of change" less so.

But all the same, Armande felt a pull eastward. They all did.

And once he pieced together the clues, the starting point, Lake Baikal, there was nothing holding them back. Khylsty safely housed with devoted Atharim- minus the now dead Matvei- they had struck out to find what Rasputin had thought so important to vouchesafe all these years.

To find what the future had waiting for them.

Anger prowled a monster beneath her skin, and it made her quiet. Not because she blamed Jacinda, but because she did not want her to think so. Tenzin’s legs ached to run -- to run through the concrete paths until she found her way home once more, to the places beyond the confines of this very human place. Now she knew pack circled the city it was difficult not to return to it, especially in time of need. It was not natural to survive alone. The nuzzle of soft fur would soothe away what were ultimately human concerns. Wolves lived more simply. They lived pure.

But Jacinda followed, and so she could not go even if she had allowed herself. Her sister spoke and Tenzin said nothing. She needed time.

It was not until the familiarity of den that she began to feel the tension and frustration ease. The contacts were pocketed on route using a car’s wing-mirror to ensure the ones beneath remained intact. She blinked rapidly, a snarl on her lips for the extra annoyance. Now she sat curled in one of the chairs. Her thoughts had returned to the girl, aware the inquisitor was not likely to rest -- and knowing she would need Jacinda’s help to navigate the technology to find her first. This was not a hunt she could scent with nose alone.

For now Jacinda’s mind was elsewhere. Tenzin’s dark eyes stared for a long time before she even tried to answer the question. Language barriers aside, it was a loaded one.

“Rākṣasa hatyārā,” she said eventually. Her voice sounded raw. “Trained in Alchi, small village. Follow the teachings of Buddha, mostly. Kill sparingly, only when needed, for hurt to the soul -- needs to have reason, you see?” She shook her head. “Minority still. Some say our monastery fell from path long time before, but feels right. To me.”

Who wants more distractions!?

POST YOUR PETS AND OTHER CUTE THINGS!

I will open with my dog, Logan. He's a Boxer Chihuahua and this is a pic from the day we adopted him two years ago.

Continued from 'Homeward Bound'

The second he opened the door, blue light leaked into the hall beyond. The ever-present globes behind him were faint but not dim. Jai had no problem seeing, even as he released the Source from his grasp. Before leaving, he paused to study the closet turned portal. A moment ago the shining, white light of his gateway cast Nythadri in that other-worldly glow. He shook his head, amused by the memory of whisking her through another gate, and hadn't bother to wipe away the smirk by the time the door slid from his fingers. This was definitely not going to be the last time he would see Nythadri, but who knew how long it would be before next time came around. Best not to think about it.

Hidden room sealed away once more, Jai made his way down the corridor. It didn't take long to encounter opulence. This was the heart of the palace in Bandar Eban, after all. Just thinking of it, and he tugged his sleeves straight now and then. It did nothing for the wrinkles in his coat. And every time he swiped at the cloth a waft of damp wool hit him in the face. So he ran his hands through his hair, wishing Nythadri had had a mirror in her room, scratched at some random itch on the back of his scalp and carried on. He may look like hell, but at least he made it look good. Besides, it wasn’t the first time. If he strolled in too cleaned up, Yui would worry.

There were plenty of long looks to be passed on the way. Asha'man weren't exactly strangers in the heart of another Asha'man's kingdom; Jai especially. But an innocent looking grin met every single one. And lingered on one or two extra. It was probably the beard, Jai thought, scratching idly at the stubble on his throat. Most Domani kept a clean shave. It was too bloody hot not to. And after about five seconds back in Bandar Eban, yeah. He could see why. It had snowed in Tar Valon last night. Bloody snow. So he probably stood out. A beard and dashing good looks. Add the black and really, who could blame them?

Servants met him at the entrance to a set of quarters that were technically his to use. Though really, it was just another in a long set of rooms. Only this one happened to have his spare socks stowed away in it. Don't get it wrong. They were nice rooms. Not quite as gaudy as they could be, thankfully. But mostly because Jai hauled out all the obscene stuff long ago. It left the walls a little bare, but at least the bed remained. A man would be a fool to rid himself of a feather mattress..

Nor did he turn down a cold goblet of water and an eventual upgrade to milk tea and iced lemon mead. A barrel of king crab boiled in sweetgrass, firepod and honey came next. Then lamb with raisins and carrots soaked in wine. And the broths from both were mopped up with a wedge of oatbread like they'd never existed. Not even firepods could ruin something that delicious. Or maybe he was just that bloody hungry. In the last day he'd had cold tavern food and two bowls of Hana's stew. It was delicious, but she was cinchy with her helpings. Probably used to Araya's appetite, he didn't exactly seem the sort to destroy mounds of food. Otherwise, Jai couldn't recall eating anything during the blur of days before landing in Araya's home. Drinking though. That'd been done in plenty. And it still showed. Under his eyes. At least it went with the whole bruised face, split knuckle look he had going. Andreu’s antics left their mark on his face.

He was caught some hours later, straight blade in hand, and a towel snugged tight around his waist by no one less than their fair Yui. Complete with a slow foot tapping and arms pinched across her chest. Jai dried his face calmly and turned when he noticed her. Of course Daryen sent her. He leaned against the slab of marble behind him, hands perched against the edge, and didn't seem in a hurry to do anything about modesty. Yui had seen him in less; palaces and privacy weren't mutually exclusive as far as servants were concerned. Less so when the King was involved. Less, less so when the head mistress of the palace was the one doing the roaming.
"Dearest Yui," he grinned, tone familiar and playful, "What will the servants think?" He glanced down at himself, skin clear as daylight below the beltline, almost low enough to make out the origin of that eviscerating scar. He grinned like he always knew the elder woman had a thing for him. Who didn’t?

Despite his best attempt to thwart her mood, Yui was frowning. Which was never a good sign. Her brows narrowed in concern and Jai found himself blinking when she tenderly touched his face. Kind of worrisome, actually. Nothing phased Yui. The woman was a stormwall. Then again. It wasn't exactly a mystery what concerned her so. Even if she was all worked up about nothing. Jai cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Yui left soon after without saying much more than a few grumblings under her breath. Apparently, whatever she wanted was satisfied. Though why she came at all was a complete mystery. Who walks in on a guy in a bath towel, touch his face and walk out without even a hello? Granted that was a bad way to think of it. Still. Jai was glad to find the remainder of these spare quarters free of servants when he emerged freshly shaven and, you know, smelling better.

Something caught his eye. The table had been cleared and placed upon it was a slender wood box. Gold leaf and mother of pearl was set into the sides, and heavy brackets kept the box sealed tightly. Everything else forgotten, Jai broke the seal on the accompanying letter and blinked at the surprising words penned within. Make your own heirloom, the note read. There didn't need to be a signature. He knew who the author was.

Jai quickly snapped the brackets apart and discovered a sword nestled within. The blade was bound with loose cloth with which still clung with the scent of mintwax. He stood over it for some minutes, eyes running up and down the length of the weapon, surprise and wonder steeping from every pore, before he brought himself to remove the bindings. The carbon steel blade was curved slightly and edged on both sides. It had a simple round guard and tightly woven grip. The steel shone immaculately. This was a newly forged sword, without a single scratch marring its mirror-like surface. Two scabbards were alongside. The first, a plain wood for storage. The second, a working leather scabbard, gleaming dark with recent oiling.

Before he knew it the sword was in hand. It was light as a feather. More so than even Asad’s sword had been. Or maybe Asad's sword was heavy for other reasons. The hilt wrappings fit snug beneath his fingers. And the balance was beautiful. A man could slice a bolt of billowing silk with this blade. He knew a guy with bolts of silk; even Araya would respect this sword. It must have cost a fortune, but above all, his eyes were drawn to the strong part of the blade closest to the hilt. A sly grin touched his lips and he took saidin. It probably took a finer hand than his to properly etch steel, but he wasn't exactly going for artistry. A glowing line, a hair's breadth in size, burst to life an orange fire, biting into the steel as Jai scrawled two small letters to the blade with the One Power. JK, they read, and Jai smiled. Now that's one hell of an heirloom.

He soon retreated behind closed doors and shoved all the furniture to the edges of the room. Abandoning the towel, sword in hand, he took up the starting position in not but skin. It was bloody time to give this baby a go. He hadn’t completed those bloody forms in days.

[[ continued from Convergence ]]

Sterling went first and Nox insisted Raffe go next.  And then he climbed down last making sure to put the grate back on.  The drone couldn't follow.  Nox wove a quick ball of light in the air and tied it off.  It sorta floated and followed him as he started to pace back and forth. "We'll be safer down here for the moment."  Nox pulled his wallet out of his pocket and started up the mapping software his sister had created.  He had to find their location before they went any deeper.  And get them back home safely.  Well back to Kallisti, Sterling's parents could come get her there.  

The map pinged their location and Nox started in the best direction out of there.  He prayed nothing started inhabiting the tunnels he and Aria had already cleared.  But he'd be ready none the less.

At the next intersection Nox ushered them past and stopped to erect a new wall.  He noted it on the map - no one could follow them this way.  "They shouldn't be able to follow us now."  Nox said relaxing only a little.

   
Ok which of my chars is this?

[[ Bring anyone from anywhere this is just a fun distraction thread.  No plot, no real story unless something happens. And something might but nothing here affects the story ]]

The world was in chaos.  Earthquakes, secrets revealed, Atharim hunting him.  The world was always in chaos, this day was no different.  Nox needed a break.  To leave the pain and suffering behind.  A good drink, a lot of people, and a dance floor throbbing with loud music.  Memories be damned.

The rave was in a nice part of Moscow.  Hidden from view but within one of the richer neighborhoods.  The lights were dim, the music was loud and the people were drunk and having a good time.  The entry fee was minimal but it was more than Nox normally liked to pay for a good time.  The walk down the narrow hall grew darker with each step and the music pulsed in his veins.  And the world fell away from him.

The bar was off to the side and barely visible as Nox approached.  People crowded around the thing with their hands out waving down the bartenders.  Men and women wearing next to nothing walked around the outside of what had become the dance floor of the old building.  Nox didn't know what it had been in the day time, but it didn't matter now - now the lights strobed and the music played.  First a drink.

Nox waded up to the bar and took a seat a cute guy had vacated with a pretty girl on his arm heading for the dance floor.  Dancing later Nox thought to himself while he waited for the bartender to reach him so.

It was into a steady sleep that he drifted. Soon, he found himself walking the planks of empty docks flanking a river. He didn’t recognize his location, but the general cityscape may have been anywhere. He thrust his hands in the pockets of a white tracksuit and paused to look over the edge. That was when he saw two boys nearby balancing dangerously along the dock wall. He decided to walk their direction out of concern for their safety. However, suddenly a surge of water lifted the river out of its banks. The boys and Philip were caught in the flood. He tried to get to them, but they disappeared beneath the churning surface. The river roared angrily and carried him away.

The city scape rolled into nature as he was hurled toward a precipice beyond which fell a huge waterfall. He gasped for air and flung himself as best he could, but he wasn’t a strong swimmer. He grabbed at the bier of a bridge as the wall of water tried to pull him over the edge. Then as suddenly as the surge arose, it fell back to normal. He made it to the riverbank, and scrambled up to solid ground. The forest surrounding the bank was limp with the flood. Grasses were folded flat. Branches and debris cluttered along the trees. Some were upended, their roots exposed in gnarled twists.

Breathing heavy, Philip pulled himself out of the flood zone, seeking shelter and expecting to wake any moment.

The room was trashed. Tony was going to be pissed. In the middle of the chaos of thrown furniture, smashed glasses, and shredded curtains stood a shard of black. Elias flexed his fists to balls, breath heavy, eyes scrunched to sightlessness.
“ARGWW!” He roared and literally kicked a throw pillow left on the floor. It smashed to the wall in a fluff, adding to the mess.

“This is a waste of time!” he yelled at nothing. The excursions down the river were absolutely worthless. They found no signal. The creature no longer attacked. He was made to be a fool in front of everyone. Including…

“Asha?” He turned at the rustle of someone entering. Probably climbing over the mess. Maybe it was Tony coming to yell at him? Nah, that guy was sure to keel over from a heart attack next time he raised his voice.