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Rune had seen his picture and videos and stories and all kinds of ways someone could see another person's face, but she didn't really get it until he got into the car and looked over at her. To be technical, he looked at her legs and then up to her. It kind of gave her a thrill. Nobody ever looked at Rune like that.
He was so handsome. Damn the luck that he was also a blood-thirsty godling that'd smite her to ash as soon as look at her. Well, he hadn't smote her yet, so maybe not as soon as he looked at her, but either way, Rune was still suddenly nervous.
What was worse was the fact that he didn't smell violent at all. He didn't smell like anything! Except maybe a hint of aftershave and vodka...
"You're definitely a better driver than I was. Maybe I should give my career choice a second thought."
She winked at the side of his face.
"I bet this baby can really get to speed fast. Too bad we're stuck in town.
And my name's Rune. You know, like the letters of old Norse alphabet?"
She flipped her bangs out of her eyes and gazed ahead, seemingly bored and unimpressed by the slow-goings.
Uncle Seth growled in her ear piece. He'd made her swear to not tell Jaxen her real name, but Rune didn't see the point in hiding it. She wasn't on any government list anywhere
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They rolled to a stop at a light. "Something tells me you're not really a valet,"
he uttered under his breath. The engine purred, like a cat rousing from sleep and wanting its belly scratched. He could feel the steering wheel beg him to hit the open road, but a glance at Rune and Jaxen had to suppress the temptation. He wasn't going anywhere that wasn't heavily populated with people, and the ring roads dove through giant chunks of forest. No matter how fast they'd blur by, only a few hundred kilometers per hour, he salivated at the thought, staying in the city was the best idea for now.
The light flashed green and Jaxen pulled the toggle into gear. His head pressed into the folds of supple leather behind him as they shot through the intersection. Another corner rounded and the stretch of road around the Kremlin walls was laid out before them. The river rested flat and dark to the left, the red walls of the empire stacked high on the right. "Rune, huh? Interesting name."
He fell quiet after hearing himself say so.
Rún
His mind drifted. Driving became mechanical and mundane. The lights of the river bank blurred into distant stars. It was on the tip of his tongue, a name and threat he couldn't pronounce but knew sharp as daylight break in his mind.
Snjallr est ī sessi, skalta svā gøra,
Bragi, bekkskrautuþr!
vega þū gakk, ef þū vreiþr seïr!
hyggsk vǣtr hvatr fyrir.
Emotions welled in his gut. Of being pissed and irritated. Of wanting to call someone out for being a pussy. In fact, he had. Bragi was a drunk and a bitch, anyway..
A horn blared beside him that shook him out of it. He rolled his eyes and hit the gas. The other car soon disappeared from the rearview mirror.
"Alright, Rune. What can I do for you?"
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Jun 17 2014, 03:52 PM.
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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Jaxen got all wonky-eyed for a moment, and Rune took the opportunity to sneak a hand behind her back. The pistol was in her hand, but she tilted so to keep it out of sight between the seat and the door.
Whatever it was that Jaxen's crazy god-imagination was picturing, he snapped out of it soon enough. There was a bit of impatience in his voice afterward. Rune was all too happy to oblige him with an answer.
She pulled the pistol around her and aimed it at the side of his face."You can west where the river crosses Silver Pinewood park. In a car like this, should be there in five minutes."
The affirmative signs and sounds of a girl well accustomed to operating a hand gun accompanied the order.
As did a smile.
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<small>((Rune moded with permission))</small>
A metallic click of a gun cocked and Jaxen felt the corners of his mouth drop. You've got to be kidding me.
He risked a glance and found himself staring right down the barrel of a gun. The girl behind the weapon was smiling sadistic, and Jaxen shook his head. "You? Really? You're the assassin?!"
His grip tightened on the wheel until the leather creaked under his palms.
"You know I could just drive to a police station."
He grit his teeth. He'd have to route a map search for one, though. Rune was probably unlikely to let him chart a course toward the police.
She replied, cool as a cucumber. "And I could just shoot you here and take my chances."
He flicked his eyes at her. There was no humor to the set of her jaw. "Fine. Serebryanyy Bor it is."
Not that he was in a rush to meet a bullet in the face, but if he was going to drive himself to his grave, might as well kill the road to do it. Its not like the Bilmodeller was going to pound a dead guy's ass for ruining the tires on his car. Least, he hoped not.
He whipped around the side of traffic and down the bus lane. At the turn to the artery street, he jazzed straight through a series of circles and intersections. At the first stretch of open road, he threw on the sport boost and they flew down the river.
"So what are you going to do when we get there Rune? Execute me mafia style? Right between the eyes? Well, all I ask is to spare the upholstery."
They pulled off at the entrance to the park. It sprawled dark and empty across the space between two veins of the river, one of which coursed nearby.
He got out of the car at her bidding. Sad at least to leave it behind. Their footsteps were the only sounds crunching underfoot. He hated to think of the gravel wedged up in the tred of the Agera's tires. Poor girl.
The light was there, of course. He grasped at it, but nerves and irritation - mostly at himself - were slapping his hand away.
He turned on a heel to look this .. what had White called them? Atharim.. in the eye. She was tough looking on second glance, and carried herself far more seriously than her hair and cute face implied. Inwardly, he scrambled for the Light. Although he had no idea what to do with it if he caught it except ball it up and throw the force at her.
He had to stall. "Alright. You at least going to tell me what this is about? Baccarat, isn't it? You're Atharim and I'm the blowhole that found the secret hideout?"
Almost. "Well you can have it on good authority I don't care about your fucking society."
He swallowed. Since they ceased walking, the silence was deafening. "Your friend White told me all about your little cult."
He started to panic. The light was unreachable! She made him take a knee.
He thought of Tony and Michael. How easy he'd been able to take hold of the power with them taunting him. So easy then. Get control, he commanded himself. Get control and take control. The Light suddenly blazed close. It was easy now.
It filled him. It stretched his skin tight across his bones. It etched itself into the fury of his face. His lips quirked into a smile as the menace took gnarled form in front of Rune.
Until the thunder of a shot fired blasted his ears.
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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The sight of the city dimmed once, twice...calm reptilian scaled hands covered in smooth black gloves checked that the cloak of her rank lay securely shrouding the petite frame. Her swords were ready to hand along with many hidden blades and keen wits. By the time the city dimmed the fifth and final time, Sora snugged her face mask to ensure nothing showed but her dark eyes. The Gatherer was ready to answer the call of the Ancients.
The transfer took an instant, and to any that might have been incredibly lucky enough to see it, the air rippled and a small shadow appeared behind the pair. She blinked to clear the blur of transport tensed and launched herself at the back of a very colorful individual holding a gun. She batted the threatening hand to the left and immediately rolled over and towards the Ancient. Sora was not surprised. Most of the time a Naga was summoned these days an Atharim was undoubtedly nearby for them to do battle with. Not like the beginning. The first Ancients to be reborn usually found themselves in other types of trouble. Sora landed in front the Ancient and whirled to throw a dagger at the Atharim. She was a knot of focused determination wrapped around a core of happy satisfaction. She killed when it was unavoidable, but her number one mission was not death; It was life.
Edited by Sora Ryuu, Jun 18 2014, 02:01 PM.
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The godling was stalling.
Even as he took a knee, he never once smelled of anything but mischief. Then again, this was her first encounter with a god. Perhaps they were capable of tricking a furia.
She held the gun at aim while he bartered for time. He said a lot of stuff in a short amount of time that didn't distract Rune a bit. Not until he mentioned a familiar name. White? Told you?
She hesitated a brief moment. The Atharim on the other side of her ear surely heard it too. They were telling her to do it. To just get it over with!
She really expected him to smell ... worse.
She started to lower the gun when a karate-chop slapped her arm. She gasped and whirled about defensively. The gun went off, aimed at the dirt.
A shape darted between them. Rune spun back the other way to follow it. She hefted the pistol when something punched her in the gut. She stumbled backward.
Her eyes flared wide. She put a hand to her stomach and wrapped it around the handle of a knife.
Anger flared white hot. It surged all the way down her arm to where her hand squeezed the trigger erratically until the gun was empty. "Uncle Seth..?"
she called out.
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Finally wrapped in light, his world was illuminated, but all of Jaxen's focus went into the mass welling up in front of Rune. He did not notice an additional presence until it was too late.
In one fell motion it struck Rune and whipped around the Atharim. Jaxen gasped and scrambled backward as the half formed mess of light snapped and recoiled. The slap to his lungs made him lose all hold. The light surged out of his grasp; the world darkened.
Eyes wide, he crawled to his feet and looked upon the sinuous shape risen before him.
And every hair on his body stood upright. He utterly froze.
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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Sora wasted little time with niceties, pushing the Ancient away from the gun spatter. She crouched between him and the wounded woman, keeping both eyes on the killer in case the colorful thing found the will to focus on her intended target.
“Sstay here and play with the lady or leave with me and live? Five ssecondss.”
"Uhh. I'm fond of living."
”Good choicce.”
A quick flip of her wrist covered him in her cloak. She found that Ancients did better when they could not see during the transition. It could be disorienting to one not used to the process. Most new Gatherers upended their stomachs the first few times they made the journey. She laid a hand on his arm and concentrated. They shifted and disappeared from the riverside.
Sora mastered the familiar gut-wrench and blurred vision, then stood to her feet. They had appeared in the city’s central courtyard. Light seemed to exist everywhere, though there was no sky and no sun, only an indistinct darkness above. A large, grey building dominated the square on three sides with a wide ramp of plainly dressed grey stone leading up the center to a pair of polished wooden doors. The doors stood open to a plain hallway that went left and right, welcoming all, but revealing nothing within. On the opposite side, a wide avenue led from the square out where the Naga community could be seen going about their daily activities. Several shops lined the road and citizens in both humanoid and snake form traversed the avenue, entering or exiting shops, stopping to talk to one another and going about life as usual. An older woman, a Gatherer in humanoid form wearing clothing similar to Sora’s, but without the face guard, carried a basket in one hand. In her other hand she gripped a young naga; too young to transform completely and very obviously, to Sora, not happy having to practice moving in his new form. His upper torso was human, but he lacked legs, slithering along beside his mother. The city had music to it; a sibilant sound that pervaded the subconscious enough that Sora sighed. It was the sound of home.
She turned to the Ancient and tilted her head quizzically.
“Are you ill? Ssome are ssometimess.”
She waited. Some Gathers thought it better to introduce the Ancients to the Naga slowly. Sora preferred to get it over with. It seemed to her that once they got past that, completing her sacred duty was easier. It wasn’t as if they were not safer here than Outside anyway.
Edited by Sora Ryuu, Jun 19 2014, 11:40 AM.
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Next thing, Jaxen was on his back. And not in the fun way. The ninja shoved him out of the line of fire and crouched to shield him. Fine by him!
She cast an ultimatum. “Sstay here and play with the lady or leave with me and live? Five ssecondss.”
He didn't take long to answer that feminine, lisped voice.
"I'm fond of living."
He said.
”Good choicce.”
She replied and darkness was cast across them both. Next thing he knew, the blackness pressed hard from all directions. He couldn't breathe. Iron bands clasped around his throat; his eyeballs bulged from their sockets; and his ear-drums burst like they were bleeding. It was over in a flash, but that couldn't have come soon enough.
Though he squeezed his eyes shut, the ground swayed beneath his hands and knees. He curled an arm around his stomach and moaned, audibly sick. His skin blanched white and sweat wet his brow.
He'd been shot after all. Ninja lady kicked him in the head. He was dead already and his own version of hell was unrelenting nausea. Whatever it was, he stayed where he was, a lump of blue and white cashmere that suddenly seemed too thick for the temperature.
That lisped voice returned. “Are you ill? Ssome are ssometimess.”
He assumed it was a lisp since a check of his ears found them not bleeding after all.
"I've felt better."
He choked back a more visceral answer and reeled back on the heels of his feet. His gaze was finally drawn upward.
Although yet night, there was a glow-cast illuminating their surroundings. Gray was the horizon. Stone, he thought, but smooth as slate marble dominated the view. Shapes moved across some sort of courtyard or what was perhaps a town square. He knew of no such place in Moscow.
The shapes, though. They moved like people, but his brain hadn't caught up to what his eyes were seeing. They moved like something else. Something that wasn't possible.
Every muscle in his body seized hard enough to snap bone. His head whipped this way and that. He turned in a circle. They were everywhere!
No where to run. No where to get away. He couldn't catch his breath. His mouth went dry. They were on him! Crawling up his legs! Under his shirt! He felt their scales slither across his skin!
He cried out in terror, crumpled to a ball and covered his head with his arms. Muffled beneath, the canticle of a desperate prayer rose through the rocking. "It's not real. It's not real."
If he were of more reasonable senses, he might have been concerned he was shot in the head and bleeding out on the ground somewhere and this was his welcome to hell.
If only that were true. He'd prefer the trauma of a head wound to hallucinating about snake people. "It's not real."
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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Sora neatly stepped away to allow the man room for his illness. Such a reaction was common. The man’s apparent flight from reality, however, was not. She stared unblinking at his curled form, fairly certain his distress was of the normal variety.
“You are in Moscow no longer and everything iss real. Thiss,”
she gestured around them,
“iss Komukai Ccity. My name is Ssora, and you are one of the Ancientss reborn, whosse hide I am honor bound to ssave sso that you can learn more of who and what you are in preparation for the dayss to come.”
Sora walked over to the base of the ramp, untying the flap of cloth covering her face to reveal delicate, tawny scaled features. There was a hint of humor in her tone when she mentioned saving his hide. Most of the Gatherers she knew were so full of dignity when they enforced their tasks that Sora saw it as her duty to do just the opposite. Dignity was fine, but a smile and a joke went further in her experience. Of course, a serpentine smile did not always translate as she intended. Hoping he would come to himself soon, Sora sat her tiny self at the base of the ramp, threw back the cloak and its hood to reveal black pants and shirt combined with soft knee-high boots and relaxed on an elbow. Where a human would have hair, she had scales with a faint hint of a cobras hood on the sides of her head. She was relaxed and content. The Ancient might cause trouble or he might not, but Sora was also confident that she could handle whatever might happen. It was her duty.
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