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+--- Thread: A Lesson (/thread-654.html)
- Armande - 09-22-2013
With Mr. Marx seated, the hum of consideration vibrated the back of the Regus' throat. The acquiescence to command was unexpected though undermined by the the condescension accompanying it. His attitude was the plank in his own eye. Although the ancient office of the Regus was as a conductor of a great orchestra in which he considered the Americans a necessary harmony, after all, they were on the same team, he was willing to be the man to remove such splinters from his acolytes tunnel vision. To whom else fell the responsibility if not him?
As much as the undivided attention of the Regus would entertain his american subordinate, there were more important matters at hand. Such as saving the world. The parchment Aria carried here today was an original page from the Voynich codex, and this one in particular was one of many 'missing' from its two-hundred and forty brethren. The difference between missing and lost being one of semantics.
Lifting it gently as the wind, he placed it upon the tempered glass panel embedded in his desk and a digital copy was scanned to the air above which he could manipulate. The elaborate projection hovered midair, much as how the lesser advanced Wallets worked.
"Cryptographers have been driven mad trying to decipher this text." Armande drank in the hand-written script with thirsty eyes that sensed the challenge. The points and slants ran smoothly across each and every glyph, as though freely transcribed. Enciphered texts were frequently punctuated with pauses where the author took the time necessary to translate the code.
"It is a page from the Voynich manuscript," he struck Aria with a knowing gaze. That name was known to conspirators and historians alike, no few of them outside their society as within it. The name should strike a tense chord in her mind.
The Regus then circled the hologram. A swiping motion enlarged the illustration in the corner. "Here you will see why this page is of interest." Surely this would draw even Mr. Marx from his cocoon of ignorance. For inked to the corner of the page was the half black, half white image of the ouroboros, with the point of the devouring serpent drawn at the highest position in the loop. Unlike the familiar images marking the Atharim themselves, this one was severed into seven symmetrical pieces, disconnected, yet still whole.
"Ms. Piccolo," Armande clasped his hands behind his back when she turned toward him, "With your 'biological' connection, you have insights stronger than any one of your affinities in the last millennium," his tone was forthright and neither praise-worthy nor judgmental. She was a tool, however, and to defend the world, the Regus of the Atharim would wield anything as weapon. "In this image and in these glyphs lie meanings deeper than the translation itself. Your task is to take yourself seven-hundred years in the past, and tell us the author's state as he penned this page."
Where cryptographers and code breakers failed, the Regus was going to succeed. The page, indeed likely the entire manuscript, was glossolalia, the visual interpretation of a stream of consciousness penned only by the most obtuse of prophets. Where linguistics failed, pure emotion itself had to be translated. Rather than strings of sounds which the author knew, the word and sentence units were the rhythm and melody of his spirit ascribed forever in vellum. Luckily, the greatest living furia of a thousand years would succeed where so many others had failed.
"You will need the original document, but it is too precious to relinquish beyond the walls of this Office. Therefore, your work will be conducted in my presence in situ. No doubt this has been a difficult day for you, child. You may return tomorrow after resting your mind if such aids are necessary."
Hands clasped behind his back, he awaited her answer.
- Aria - 09-23-2013
Aria was a little confused. Her biological connection to some ancient manuscript? Really? Or did she hear that wrong. She stared at the document as it hung in the air. It danced with familiarity, but nothing that would strike her as anything. She'd heard of the document, but never seen it. It was the source of much conspiracy theory, and as you look for monsters you tend to frequent the conspiracy networks, they can provide you with ample supply of monsters if you know where to look.
"You will need the original document, but it is too precious to relinquish beyond the walls of this Office. Therefore, your work will be conducted in my presence in situ. No doubt this has been a difficult day for you, child. You may return tomorrow after resting your mind if such aids are necessary."
Aria nodded and smiled, "It's been a rough day, but I'll survive." Actually sitting in the library was probably exactly what the doctor would order anyway. Though Aria wasn't sure that she could find the author's emotional state as the Regus put it. 700 years was a very long time to pick up an emotional state. Aria wasn't sure if it was even possible. But she was willing to give it a shot.
Aria ignored the document floating in the air, it would do little good. The paper itself was old and Aria was afraid to touch it. But she sat down at the desk without permission or leave. There really was nothing more to do than try.
Aria stared at the paper, reading what she could make out. She blocked out everything else, every emotions, every person and focused on the paper. She had no idea what to do or what it all meant, but that wasn't her goal. Find the author's mental state. That was all she thought about.
- Seth Marx - 09-23-2013
Reggie made his little speech to dollface. Bunch of stuff about some old book. Apparently the little girl was the "greatest living furia in a thousand years." Ceptin' my Rune, of course.
He wanted her to work her magic on the page and figure out what the writer was thinking. Only problem was, the guy was a thousand years dead.
Regardless of how idiotic it sounded to Seth, dollface must have believed Reggie. She walked over to his desk and sat down. It took a few moments for Seth to realize she wasn't going to stop staring dumbly at the page any time soon.
Once that was clear, Seth was pretty much alone with Reggie, and he acted accordingly. "Okay Reggie, you've got dollface starin' at the paper,"
he jerked a thumb towards the girl, "now why don't we get down to business."
Seth stood up and crossed the room. Standing right in front of Reggie, the difference in height and build was pretty plain. Seth was bigger; a lot bigger. "Unless you feel like slappin' me again--you and my little Runey got a lot in common--I'd like you to tell me why the hell I'm here."
Dragging people across continents just wasn't done. Individual Atharim had enough to deal with on their own turf, they didn't need the complications that came with jobs more than a thousand miles away. If Reggie grabbed him and Rune, it must have been something big.
- Armande - 09-25-2013
With Aria complacent, Armande circled Seth and crossed the distance to the door in several long strides and pulled it open. The posturing of a younger, larger man was not intimidating. To be chosen as Regus required the tactical mind of a scholar as well as a physical strength of a warrior; Armande was master at both mind and body before this goat-humping redneck popped his first facial hair.
The girl was diligently working despite Seth's uncouth mouth. The Regus of the Atharim demanded much from his acolytes, but forcing the girl to concentrate on an undeniably difficult task with this buffoon in the room was beyond his mandate.
He held the door open and turned back to his American weapon. "She needs peace and quiet." A command followed on the heels of the explanation, "After you, Mr. Marx."
Aria may have been left to the solitude of her thoughts, but she was not unsupervised. The Regus' office was filtered through the lens of constant watchers who ensure the safety of the room's contents rather than the man occupying the title. The items housed in there were priceless.
Armande smoothed his sleeves calmly and tucked his hands behind his back as he walked away from Seth. The man was a tribute to his family's dedication to their way of life, and Armande could respect such a position. Seth was, indeed, one of the greatest hunters in the world.
"You are aware of the return of the gods." Armande pivoted, fixing Seth with a cold gaze blue as the frosted lakes of Siberia. "You are here to be trained in hunting these creatures, many of which infest Moscow itself. Our Atharim brethren break weakling demigods around the globe, but there are Titans here. You will find them, Mr. Marx, you and your neice. And you will slaughter them."
A curl of ferocity soared behind Armande's gaze. "This pleases you, yes?"
- Aria - 09-26-2013
Even though she was focused on the text, it was still very difficult to concentrate with Mr. Marx and the Regus throwing their emotions all over the place. Thankfully the Regus was considerate enough to move it outside giving her peace and quiet.
Aria sat and stared at the piece of paper. She could not read the text, and she was afraid to touch the paper. She had been taught how to handle these ancient texts in the Vatican. Gloves were almost always worn, you typically did so in a dust free area that was perfectly climate controlled. This was not that situation.
Nothing came to Aria. She sat for what felt like hours before she had to get up and walk around. This was going to be a very difficult task. Every technique she had learned to track monsters was not working on the manuscript. It was time to think outside the box. Aria started to pace as she tried to think of new ways to bring out the emotions of the piece of paper. Doubt set in. Was it even possible? How hard should she try? For how long? What happened if she failed, the Regus was not known for his mercy. Aria shivered. Her death at the hands of her superior did not sound like the way to go, particularly when you hunt monsters for a living. Definitely not the way she'd expect her demise to happen.
- Seth Marx - 09-26-2013
Titans, huh?
Seth grinned. Finally, some good news. He wasn't an avid reader of Atharim lore--of course, he'd memorized the books on different monsters, even added to a few of them himself--but he knew where Reggie was heading. The gods had returned--everybody knew that by now--and Seth was going to be the wolf hunting them down.
"Well why didn't you just say so, Reggie? Finally, some good news."
He grinned and clapped the older man on the shoulder.
Seth didn't know much more than anybody else about gods--they had the power to level a city block on a whim, and they were all dead. Until now, at least. He'd have to dig into the records at the headquarters and hope Reggie knew a little bit more than the rank-and-file. Doubt it.
"Alright then, first things first Reggie. I need my guns. Don't tell me you lost 'em neither, that's the same pistol granddad carried on Normandy."
He'd be seriously ticked off if the colt had gotten destroyed by some low-life shipping clerk.
The fact that Reggie took what Seth was giving him was proof of one thing. The old man was scared, and he needed somebody with experience to make sure there weren't any monsters under his bed. Seth could tell that Reggie couldn't stand him--although honestly that made messing with him that much more fun.
But still, he could take being under someone inferior to him. He'd done it all his life. Seth lived for the hunt--and gods were the greatest prey of all.
Edited by Seth Marx, Sep 26 2013, 06:34 PM.
- Armande - 09-27-2013
Seth smiled an impish little grin. The man derived too much pleasure from killing. It would be his downfall someday, but so long as he did not expire before Armande could make proper use of him, the Regus was of small inclination to interfere.
He sniffed a response. So impatient. Such could be a good thing, however. Time WAS running short.
"I am not your secretary, Mr. Marx." The bothersome disrespect dug to his gut, but diligent mindfulness dismissed it. Seth himself was but an annoyance, yet it reminded him of a larger wound in the Atharim's hide. One that would fester unless Armande tended it carefully.
"I have come to theorize that the discord between us is rooted in miscommunication," he began, disregarding the request for Seth's shipments. "So I will be plain." There were an army of administrators Seth would greet next. The same people that would set him up with the details of tracking reports for the gods, including the contact information, address, and whereabouts of John White.
"First you will see a man named Mr. White. His employment is used from time to time to coordinate larger efforts. Under his leadership, we lost the man confirmed to have been the one to break into these very headquarters. A trickster sort of god, and malicious without remorse. While other reports detail more morbid irregularities in the red light district or the undercity, and you WILL see to those irregularities, this man is an imminent threat to these headquarters. Mr. White's failure cannot go overlooked. Find him and gut him."
A second Atharim emerged in the hall with them. He bowed his head respectfully toward the Regus, who gestured that Seth accompany him forward to his task, and out of Armande's sight.
- Aria - 10-01-2013
Aria had been staring at the paper focusing on nothing but the paper in front of her for nearly two days. Her mind was at ease for the first time since coming to Moscow. While the task was daunting, the relative peace and quiet of the study she was in was far more comfortable than some places in the Vatican libraries.
Sleep had come in fits. Her mind never stopped focusing on the docment she was trying to translate. She had no idea how to get into the past. The words meant nothing. But Aria could tell something was there behind the actual words. Not physically. But she couldn't access it.
Aria dreamt of the paper, of the segmented circled oroborous. Nothing made sense it was just her mind playing games on her sleeping mind. It was rarely restful. Aria would wake up in the middle of the night and return to her post.
It was early yet and Aria started again. She'd set her wallet to reminder her to sleep and to eat. It went off every hour to get up too. The bland sandwich she'd picked up at the market was only worth the energy it would provide.
Aria had finally decided that touching the paper was about the only option left. She didn't know any other way to get around it. Touching people always seemed to work. But she was still being very cautious. She stared at the paper and held her hand just above the print. The only thing that ran through her mind was the Regus coming in and yelling at her. It was going to take a lot more will than Aria had. Her hand hovered over the paper, waiting to talk her self into actually touching the paper.
- Aria - 10-04-2013
Aria sat for several hours focusing on the paper that had been hiding in her tome. It was only one piece and it was highly valued. It was piece of a much larger collections of meaningless words and pictures. The words meant nothing. She could feel nothing. Her hand hovered millimeters above the paper, it was almost as she could feel the heat of the words etched into her palms.
Aria took a deep breath and put one finger on the clean edge of the parchment. It felt crisp to the touch, it felt old. Aria quickly withdrew with sudden pain. Aria had been so intent on not touching the paper she figured it had to do with her fears.
But she wasn't sure. She hadn't felt anything particular, but the fire in her palm had eased and the one finger felt the pain. It was a fleeting moment. But it had been there.
Aria touched the paper again. She closed her eyes and reached into the void into the nothingness that kept her safe. Aria touched the paper again, this time following the top of the paper. Aria slowly ran her fingers around the edge of the parchment. She opened her eyes and stared at the meaningless words. She ran her finger over the image of the segmented snake. Death, destruction overwhelmed her. Aria pulled her hand back violently.
Her heart was racing, her body ached with fear. But she had to figure out what it meant. The Regus could do much more than fire her from the job. He could find any other Furia to do this she was sure of it. He'd not let her get away so easily, she as sure of that. Death was the only way out of the Atharim. She sighed and touched the first letter on the page.
Nothing.
Aria sighed. Her own fears were getting in the way of the work. Aria got up and walked around the library. She wasn't looking for anything specific, or walking for any other purpose other than to collect her thoughts and gather her emotions. There was something comforting among the old dusty tomes of the past and the present. She wondered if the future could be foretold in those prophecies that so many of the books contained.
Too much time had passed. The hour was getting late, but Aria had to try again. The library was nearly empty. But she sat back down at the desk she'd been using and pulled her self into the nothingness. No emotions. Aria sighed. "Maybe letting go is what's needed." She muttered to herself.
Aria released the emptiness. Her own emotions rushed in and Aria nearly gasped with pain. It was hard to feel that much when you felt everything else around you. The library wasn't as empty as she'd thought. Still only a few. Aria tried to focus on only one thing. The paper before her. She pushed everything else away. She didn't lock it away from her, just pushed it aside.
Sweat started to bead on Aria's forehead as she tried to keep everything else away from her but the paper. It was difficult, and it was going to be even harder once she touched the paper.
But that's exactly what Aria did. Aria carefully touched the ancient paper with the tip of her finger. And then the palm of her hand. It was hard to decipher, but she could feel something. Death. But it wasn't death. Dead. Emotions turned to pictures as her mind tried to interpret the emotions. Her own interpretations. Not dead or death. Slain.
Aria's own emotions mixed with that of the paper. The two mingled and fear rose in Aria's heart. Slain Atharim. Not right either. Aria glanced at the top of the paper and it struck her like lightning. Slain ouroboros.
Aria had no idea what that could mean other than it was the symbol all Atharim wore. It was her own fear that made the connection, her own death. But it wasn't talking about her or even the Atharm specifically.
But there was always more. Who slays the ouroboros? She knew that would be the next question the Regus would ask.
Aria carefully picked up her hand from the parchment. Aria looked at where her hand was, there was no damage that she could see. She wanted to just run her hand along the words, but that could destroy the parchment itself. That was the last thing she wanted to do.
Aria put her hand down in a different place on the paper, the same death and destruction. World shattering destruction. Fear, confusion. It was every thing you'd expect to feel from the end of days.
She couldn't find the words. Something obscure kept coming to her mind. Apollyon. Aria had no idea what that was, or if it meant anything. But here it was. It kept repeating itself in her mind. Aria didn't remember where she heard it before.
It was all doom and destruction. Nothing else was left. Aria got up from her seat and took herself away from the doom and gloom and wrapped herself in the comfortable bubble before losing the contents of her stomach in the nearby garbage bin. When there was nothing left Aria wrote down in the journal she'd been working in what she'd felt. At the end she wrote. "I can't do anymore."
The utter emotions from the paper made Aria fear for her life, and the life of those around her. It had to be an end of days prophecy but Aria couldn't tell the Regus anymore than what she'd written down. It was too much for her.
Aria crashed in the arm chair in the room. She hadn't even had time to curl up with a good book before her body collapsed with exhaustion.
- Seth Marx - 10-05-2013
"Don't worry, Reggie. Seth here'll take care of the monsters, you ain't got nothin' to be afraid of."
Seth turned to follow the secretary. Once his supplies were squared away, he'd have to find Rune.
After that, well... he had his assignment. As far as he was concerned, Jaxen Marveet was already dead.
Edited by Seth Marx, Oct 5 2013, 08:27 PM.