'Children of The Shroud' - A Dark Fantasy RP (Interest/Recruitment - CLOSED AND STARTED)

[NinjaDeathSlap]

"Take me away from this place."

Darius smiled back at her with understanding eyes, and took her hand. In that instant, Sparrow was subjected to weird, claustrophobic sensation of displacement, before reappearing in the Sanctuary's Great Hall, where they had eaten the night before.

"It won't be long before everyone is gathered." Darius told her as he released her hand. Crouching down, the robed man looked at the young girl from her level.

"The initiation is not always painful." he reassured her "When it was my turn, I felt how I believe a newborn must feel, when they open their eyes for the first time. In that one moment, my soul felt the full extent of a cosmos beyond what my mind could fathom; and rather than being blinded, or seared by it's intensity, the cosmos embraced me... It was magnificent."

He smiled at Sparrow, kindly.

"I believe it will be the same for you."

===========================================================================================================================

Maggy and her escort appeared just a few yards away from Darius, just as he'd finished speaking. Turning her head, the willowy woman spoke.

"You were always faster than I, Darius." she said loftily.

"Only by a whisker, Cecilia." Darius replied, standing back up, before looking to Maggy. "You are most welcome."

=========================================================================================================================

Will had only taken a few paces away from the gun hut, when the deathly faint, but unmistakeable rustle of grass signalled a presence behind him. A second later, there was an exaggerated tapping on his shoulder, and a familiar voice...

"Hmph. Don't you know it's rude not to turn around for someone who let's you know they're sneaking up on you?" Minerva said, her arms folded and her bottom lip stuck out. Her demeanour changed in a flash however, as she spotted Will's pistols.

"Ooooh, they're so handsome!" She crooned, delicately reaching out towards Will, to touch them. "Everything here is, so far away from the filthy, grubby city..." She stopped for a second, before frowning deeply.

"I don't like it. It's too quiet. Please, come back quickly, so I can be with all the voices again."

 

[Fappy]

"... We'll have you back in time for your little gambit, but I must have your answer now."

Selena gave him an icy glare. "Is Myalviss' concept of time so different from the rest of the world's? No, Mr... Whoeveryouare, I think you'll have to wait until the time allotted to me has expired. I was told I had a day to decide and I intend to take full advantage of that offer." The woman brushed by the man but stopped in the doorway.

"As for Demeter," she said, glancing back at him, "I could have killed him long ago, I suppose. But what reason would I have had? This is not revenge. No, this is justice, and in more ways than one." With that said, she stepped through the door and out into the street.

The more time went on, the more determined she became.

 

[EnigmaticSevens]

The twisting hallways began to spawn people, and quite frankly, it should have been a great deal more surprising than it was. Ezrah suspected he might be looking one of the worst consequences of joining himself to this lunacy. If the wonders of the natural world was his drug of choice, he was going to need higher and higher doses after this if he wanted to feel the same old buzz. Something in Ezrah's nature rejected the mopey little thought. Such moaning belonged to junkies, the weak-willed and the pathetic. If this world offered splendors, he would accept them, and if its generosity grew lax, he would make his own fucking splendors, so there! But speaking of junkies... Ezrah recognized at least one face among those that had so recently appeared. The drunken magician, still full of good cheer apparently, or a powerful enough narcotic. Ezrah followed the growing menagerie without a word, though his gaze lingered for a moment on the drug addled shyster,there was something to be said for enduring all of this with a turn of humor, basking in absurdity for absurdity's sake. That thought rested no easier in Ezrah's gullet than the first, it felt too much like running, too much like surrender. There were times for such things, surely, a wisdom in their judicious use, but a life spent running, spent hiding, was no life at all. Even the Marked knew that. Some problems could not be averted, you dug in your heels and dealt with them.

The young man's steps through the gloomy halls of the Shroud's queer sanctum quickened a pace, enough considering and meandering and pondering, it was time this Mylaviss business was dealt with.

 

[The Funslinger]

"Hmph. Don't you know it's rude not to turn around for someone who let's you know they're sneaking up on you?"

Will's whole body tensed. His hand was halfway to one of the pistols on his belt before he checked the motion. Minerva must have noticed the impluse though, because she then said, "Ooooh, they're so handsome!"

Will said nothing to this.

"I don't like it. It's too quiet. Please, come back quickly, so I can be with all the voices again."

Taking a breath, he faced her, turning widely to give himself some room. "So on the subject of rudeness," he replied conversationally. "Are you just assuming that I'm going to come back with you, or are you nosing around my head again?"

 

[The Funslinger]

This space for rent.

 

[Rufio's Ghost]

"What's wrong dear? ... Are you alright?"

The young man remained motionless, so transfixed that he was forgetting to breath.

"Langston!" Jeanne barked, slapping her hand against her thigh.

"Huh- what?" Langston stammered, exhaling sharply. He stole a sly glance at his visitor, "No- nothing's wrong. Lost my train of thought is all... " He shifted his focus back to his mother, "Please excuse me. I seem to have forgotten what I was saying?"

'Why are they here?! It is only midday. It was to be a whole day? Perhaps I misunderstood. Gods, what could they possibly want with me. Haven't they seen enough?'

Laughing cynically, she repeated him, "Your exact words were... a 'monster' chased me, but it wasn't really a monster at all, not this time at least? To be frank dear, I don't know what any of that means."

Langston looked back at the dark corner. The furry little fellow would have to wait. He could sit in that damn corner and listen to the whole story. A little retrospection would do Mylaviss some good, maybe then he'd see how unsuited the young man was for his services. The poor creature would probably leave after hearing how the boy barely scraped by during the initiation. He would be gone before Langston even had to the pleasure of speaking with him... Good thing too, it would save him the trouble of saying no.

"Ah, Andra," He responded, "yes, we ran into each other in the sewers, or more accurately I ran away from her because I... well, I thought she was a maralith."

A mischievous grin crept across his mother's plump cheeks, "What was that?"

Her thin toothy smile was unsettling.

"A uh, a maralith is a... um, how would you describe it... a snake lady? It's a mythological beast from-"

"So is that what all this excitement has been about? You met a girl." Jeanne said with a knowing smile. "Tell me about her."

The young man scratched his head. He had met a lot of girls during the initiation. Tell her about them? It hardly seemed relevant, "Who Andra? Or the others?"

"OTHERS?" Jeanne chortled. Buckling over in her chair from laughter, she exclaimed in mock horror, "LANGSTON, YOU CAD! No wonder you're so chipper- and here I was thinking you were different from other men, but it seems men all want one thing. Out on the streets for less than two months and you already have your own harem." She began wiping the tears from her eyes, "Oh, boys will be boys. By the gods Langston, by all the gods in the heavens. Tell me about all of them then, every last one of them."

"OH- and don't skimp on the details the story is in the details," she added with a wink.

Langston's face flushed a deep crimson. The implication alone offended the boy's delicate sensibilities, but his mother's vulgarity made this conversation unbearable. Jeanne had a bad habit of teasing him, and as usual, he couldn't tell whether or not she was being serious. Abashed, he spoke softly, "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Leaning forward in her chair Jeanne clasped her hands together, "Oh sweetie, there is no need to be sour. Fine then, tell me what you were going to tell me then. Tell me about the one you fancy."

"I told you it wasn't like that!" Langston snapped as he hunched over and looked to the floor. "We were all in serious danger, we- we all almost died. Nobody was thinking like that Mum. I was just trying to survive. You can mock me, but know that none of this is a joke."

Feeling a pang of guilt, Jeanne spoke gently, "I'm sorry dear. I had no idea." She went on to explain herself, "You sounded so excited about everything, that I thought you had found someone or something you loved." She gave a gentle genuine smile, "Well, that is what I had hoped for at least. You were so happy until I interrupted you. I promise it won't happen again, talk until your heart is content sweetie. I'm listening."

Something he loved? Now that was a joke if ever he heard one. How could he love being beaten and afraid, of running for his life and dreaming up horrors. There was nothing to love about that day, not a single thing.

Langston picked up from where he left off. He went on to describe the fellow initiate who brought them all together and the young wounded girl. It didn't take long, soon he was completely absorbed in telling the story, bouncing his knees as he stared intently at the floor, trying to recall every detail perfectly. He spoke at great length about the monstrous lizard and the subsequent fight. Once he had moved on to the portal he had begun speaking at a frenzied pace, his voice cracking with excitement as he talked about fashioning webbing into lengths of rope. After making a brief mention of his nightmare, he described the riddles and water walls, the beautiful dining hall with the black iridescent stone, and of feeling welcome... of finally feeling welcome.

He described the grandiose meal in the hall of the sanctuary while wearing a big stupid grin and, with his eyes alight, Langston named his savior, the one who took him out of the drowned district and sent him on his way home. Mylaviss.

The name was met with an immediate response. "What did you say?!" Jeanne demanded with an intensity that shook Langston to his core. Jeanne sat at the edge of her seat, both hands braced on the arm rests and her body tensed. Her eyes widened as her jaw clenched so tight the young man was sure he could hear her teeth grind over one another.

Langston felt his chest tighten, he had done something horribly wrong.

'What did I say?'

"umm"

He glanced at his father, hoping that he could glean some information from the old man. Theodore's posture was stiff, unnatural. He stared forward with a blank expression, his eyes open but seeing nothing.

'Shit. Wh- what did I say?! Mylaviss? Was that all it took?'

The young man sat with his head hung low, silently struggling to find anything to say. He needed a good lie or excuse- anything, he just needed something to work with. He could feel her standing over him, hands placed firmly on her hips and eyes burning into the back of his head.

He knew the topic was taboo, but could one name really provoke such a strong response? It's just a name... surely all this fuss wasn't over a simple name.

Langston kept his head down as he mumbled under his breath, "Mylaviss, I said Mylavi-"

Before the young man could repeat the dreaded name, he found himself slumped over the one of the chair's armrest. It was rare for either of his parents to hit him, and when they did it was a simple slap on the hand. He sat upright in his chair in complete shock, gently rubbing his stinging cheek.

She reprimanded him, her words coming out as a guttural hiss, "NEVER, speak that name again. How can you be so stupid?" She straightened her back and placed her hands back on her hips, but she didn't moved away. She remained towering over the quivering figure, "Your father and I have sat here long enough. We have listened to all of your bullshit and I have humored your ridiculous stories. So let's do this quick and dirty-- Down to business Langston. Tell me what actually happened, no magic, no monsters, no gods."

He was speechless. 'What really happened? I just told her what really happened...'

Displeased with his silence she raised her hand threateningly. What did she want him to say-- What could he say? She wanted the truth, right?

"-But, mum, I already told you what happen-"

His answer was met with another smart smack across the face.

'FUCK!'

Langston leaned over cupping his already broken nose. Tears filling his eyes as he tried stop the bleeding. "Try again dear." Jeanne said her tone dripping with malice, daring him tell the same lie.

He pulled himself back up, tears streaming down his face, "I-I wish I could tell you something else, but I can't. I've told you all the truth I know. Myla-"

Jeanne threw her hands up in the air, "The truth Langston?! The truth is that Mylaviss doesn't exist-- he isn't real! There are no gods by that name, only myths. Are you a little boy Langston? A child? Do you believe in fairies and wisps as well? Huh? Answer me!"

He didn't know what to say, after all he had been through he could believe in anything. "I- I don't know, mum." He conceded, shaking his head, "I don't fucking know." Anticipating another blow, he buried his face in his arms in a weak attempt to protect his face from a hit that never came.

She knelt down to his level, "Langston, look at me." When young man complied she continued in a cold tone, "A world in which Mylaviss exists is a world where the priestesses of Gilliajlia are right. It's the only place where their actions are just." Her voice began to waver, "It's a world where your sister, not even a day old, deserved to drown because she was soulless. It's the same world were you should be drowned for the same reason. They said my children are evil and that death is justice... I should have drowned you? Is this what you want me to believe? Is that the world you'd have me choose? "

"No, I don't an-and I wouldn't" he said, his voice practically inaudible, "You're right. That world, as you described it, doesn't exist, however, Myl.. HE still does." Her logic was flawed Mylaviss' existence would not prove or disprove the beliefs of the priestess', the two were unrelated. Determined to make her understand, he met her burning gaze and spoke softly, "My sister and I, we aren't evil-- and I know we have a souls, because HE asked for mine." Averting his eyes, he continued, "They are wrong Mom, all of them. You have to believ-"

In one fluid motion, Jeanne slipped off her shoe and struck him once more.

"Would you stop hitting me?!"

His appeal was met with the sole of her thin house shoes.

"What will you have me believe!" She screamed. Langston begged her to stop her barrage, but his pleas only made her that much more relentless. Her jaw was clenched tight as she fought back tears, she repeated herself over and over, reinforcing her every word with a hard slap from the heel of her shoe.

Was there no reasoning with her? Had she completely lost her mind? His eyes darted about the room as he looked for help, or some way out of this mess. Theodore was still seated pale and unmoving... and the bat, was either hidden in shadows or gone. It was hopeless, he'd be stuck here forever. Whimpering he cried out for help.

A stray slap caught Langston square on the nose, sending a stinging pain down his neck and through his skull. That was it, he had had enough. With out thinking, Langston caught Jeanne's wrist as she tried to bring the shoe down against his chest. Scooting out of the chair in an awkward side-step motion, he pulled his mother forward by the wrist, using the force of her strike against her. Jeanne stumbled, falling face first into the seat of his chair.

Langston found himself standing up next to the chair had been cornered in, completely dumbfounded.

'How'd I get out?'

"LANGSTON THADDEUS DEVERO!" His mother exclaimed as struggled to orient herself. Crying, she wailed, "I-I should have let you drown!"

'What did I do? Did I push her?'

In a confused daze, the you boy sought guidance from the same place he always went. His father... but his armchair was empty. He blinked a few times to clear his head. He had just been sitting there, right?

As if to answer the boy's question, a powerful force slammed into the side of his head. The pain was sudden. The world disappeared into a flash of bright light, and then there was nothing.

*****************************************************************************************************************
The boy leaned heavily on the banister, using his tiny arms to cradle throbbing head. He couldn't afford to stop, but he simply had to. Dust was thick in the East Wing, and it had started to agitate his lungs. If he didn't stop to catch his breath he would likely succumb to another coughing fit-- another fit and he wouldn't be able to breathe, much less run. Panting, he pulled away from the rail. His short legs made running long distances exhausting. Thankfully, he didn't have much further to go-- The cellar was close. One little burst of energy was all he needed to make it, then he could hide and wait for this to blow over. He just had to make it there first.

The East Wing doors crashed open accompanied by a monstrous bellow. He had stopped for too long. Stumbling forward he sprinted for the staircase. Langston knew he was being called, but he would not go to him. Far too frightened by the man and a howl that hardly seemed human. As he stopped at the edge of the stair, the figure ambled into sight.

Panicked, the child turned to flee, but was stopped short. It felt as if he was flying- no falling. Colors blurred as the difference between up and down disappeared. Color was replaced by a flash of white and then nothing.

****************************************************************************************************************
Langston awoke with a thud. Pushing himself off of the musky wooden floor, he leaned against the wall, holding his throbbing head. The room was pitch black, but that didn't make a difference; he knew exactly where he was. Locked in his own closet. It didn't matter, the lock wasn't going to stop him from leaving... only thing that would was his damn head. As a force of habit, he reached his hand in his pocket. Quickly realizing the pocket was empty the young man let out a deep sigh, "Huhh... how long I've been in here?"

Even the softest whisper turned the dull throb at the base of his skull into shooting pain. He curled up against the wall and pressed his eyes against the palms of his open hands.

"God damn it Langston, what have you done."

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

"God damn it Langston, what have you done."

"Don't tell me you've forgotten already?" a voice Langston didn't recognise replied, it's source coming from just outside the closet, where a woman robed a deep, sea-green leaned against the door. "Though, I suppose it could be worse. That was quite a wallop your father gave you."

Beneath the hood, black lips parted in a small smile of amusement.

"Let me refresh your memory: What you did was, you came into the house of one of the most powerful officials in the Temple of Juiniss, nay, in all of the Chantry, and spoke of one so reviled by them, that people have been made to drink molten lead in the dungeons beneath the Arsenal for the simple utterance of his name..." The voice paused before adding "You're an odd one, aren't you? I suppose that's all for the better."

=========================================================================================================================

The Invisible Man gave a mocking, sweeping bow to Selena as she flounced out onto the street, before keeping step with her.

"Oh, do forgive me if I have caused offence, Your Ladyship," He said, grinning. "and intruded upon your precious time. However, you may not want to admit it yet, but you've already made your choice. It's the power of that choice that drew me here, as well as how you can see me at this moment. If your choice had taken a day to make, then a day you would have had, neither seeing nor hearing a peep from me. The rest of Kragenau may have taught you differently, but you have nothing more to prove to us, and 'justice' is not the service we provide."

He was walking backwards, in front of her now, deftly weaving between the crowds without a care for looking where he was going, his boots and robes creating not so much as a ripple in the stagnant puddles that still bubbled up all over street level in the Drowned District.

"That said, I will not drag you away. If whacking one old stoat on this day and this time is so important to you, then I will spectate. It sounds like good fun. I assure you..." The definition of the robed man's figure seemed to blur to Selena, becoming almost like a water-colour painted onto the street, before fading away to nothing.

"You won't even know I'm here."

===========================================================================================================================

"Are you just assuming that I'm going to come back with you, or are you nosing around my head again?"

Minerva tittered sweetly, batting her eyelashes at Will.

"No silly! There's no need to go a-snooping round your lonely little brain to know where you were going... I'm doing it anyway, of course, but what's a few secrets between friends?"

Minerva's titters turned into a cackle of mirth, as she forcefully linked arms with him.

"Smile! We're going on an adventure!" She said, before the pair of them vanished, to re-materialise in the Sanctum with the others, Will gasping for air, Minerva giving off a pleasurable litter shudder and squeak, as she was reunited with all the unheard voices of the city above. Behind them, the Waif-Child was just bringing in Ezrah and Giles. Ahead, the old, blind one from the night before had appeared, surveying the crowd that was gathering with a satisfied smile.

"Of those that would return, most of you have arrived." he announced, in a voice that carried despite being hardly a whisper. "Those that remain will not take long, and it is not so vital that we all do this at once."

He clapped his hands together. "We are ready to begin."

 

[Rufio's Ghost]

'Revelries in the House of Sin, A Vision of Chituol Mirrik: Accounts from a world beyond, The Fragmentation of Dus... '

"How could you keep this from me?" Jeanne asked again, still perplexed by her husband's decision to keep such a dangerous, damning secret, "Teddy?"

Her question was met with silence, her words swallowed by the surrounding darkness. It didn't really matter if he replied, his wife already knew everything he'd say before even he did. Letting out a deep slow sigh, she resumed her search of the library's resources. A thick coat of dust covered each spine making the tomes hard to identify, but there was nothing that could be done for it. Jeanne had been instructed to wait here and not to touch anything. Scouring the nearby shelf she read the titles to herself, noting each subject with an air of distaste.

After a time Theodore materialized out the the darkness, a small leather bound note book in one hand and a candle in the other. A chill ran through Jeanne's old bones-- She hadn't seen him coming, his presence was only made known when he entered the pale yellow aura emitted by her lantern. The darkness seemed impenetrable, or maybe it was. She rubbed her arm with her free hand in an attempt to shoo away the cold, this place felt alien, unnatural.

"So, this is the library of the late great Atticus Devero. Master philosophe and the First Industrial Titan of Kragernau... all of his inventions, his work, his vision- inspired by witchcraft and false gods..." She shook her head, "It's hard to believe."

Theodore placed the book on a nearby nearby shelf and began to root through his pockets, while his wife spoke aloud to no one in particular, "And even harder to believe Langston found this place... he always was a clever boy, our clever boy..." a bitter smile creasing her lips added, "I should have been here when he found this place... what could have been more important..."

Grabbing both of Jeanne's hands into his own, Theodore spoke, his tone firm yet comforting, "It wouldn't have made a difference. You can not change what the boy is, or more accurately, what he isn't."

Jeanne stared at her husband, disturbed by what his reply. Sensing a turn in the conversation, she furrowed her brow, "What he isn't?"

"He was telling the truth," he stated, depositing a fragmented stone onto the palm of her open hand. The inky black stone was rounded on one side, its smooth polished finish interrupted as it transformed into a jagged point. It was clearly a part of something that had been shattered by some great force. Jeanne held the piece up light, amazed by the colors that danced just beneath the surface.

"It's the same stone from the Sanctum, just the boy described it," Theodore shook his head. "I didn't want to believe any of it either, and for a long time I didn't. Since I first saw this place I denied what I had witnessed, let doubt plague my mind, but no more," he said as he gestured to the library, "All of this is real. Mylaviss exists. Choosing to believe otherwise will not make it so"

With a grimace, Jeanne dropped the vile rock to the ground, noticing several other pieces scattered about the floor. Brushing her hands off against her thighs she said as she stared him down "Fine, so he's real. What of it? Changes nothing."

Theodore locked eyes with her, "Jeanne... It changes everything. You and I were wrong-- About the gods, the priestesses, and the boy." His eyes burned as he continued, "May the divines have mercy on us, how could two people be so flawed. Wrong about everything, the both of us fools. We thought that by raising the boy in secret that we were being "progressive"- we thought everyone deserves life, that the church must somehow be flawed and that what we did was just. We thought... we thought we knew better than a god." He paused, sighing sadly, "How could we be so arrogant?"

"Teddy! Don't talk like that." she demanded, "He's still our son."

"No he isn't," the middle-aged man said without a hint of emotion, "We were wrong."

==============================================================
Langston froze upon hearing the sound of another's voice. All these years of speaking his thoughts aloud and no one else had ever replied.

"Let me refresh your memory: What you did was, you came into the house of one of the most powerful officials in the Temple of Juiniss, nay, in all of the Chantry, and spoke of one so reviled by them, that people have been made to drink molten lead in the dungeons beneath the Arsenal for the simple utterance of his name... You're an odd one, aren't you? I suppose that's all for the better."

All for the better... though Langston did not necessarily share same sentiment, he could agree with one thing. He was a bit odd.

"Um, you're right- it was a peculiar choice" he admitted. "And... When you say it like that, it's obvious that it was a pretty foolish decision..."

Resting the back of his head against the wall, he gave a pained smile, "I just thought that, I don't know...That they didn't care for what Chantry teaches-- I mean, if they did... I-I'd have been killed long ago. Right?"

Without waiting for an answer, the pale man continued.

"I was certain that I could get them to understand, because they always have" his smile disappeared,"Perhaps it was too much to ask for this time."

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

"They probably don't care for it, deep down." the robed woman replied "Few do... not that it matters. Few may truly believe it, fewer still may like it, but all live in fear of it. They spared you once, when they thought they could hide you from the world. Now, however, the world, our world, has found you."

She turned around to face the wardrobe, and ran her gloved finger down the crack between the doors. With a snick, the lock was released, and the doors swung open without assistance, to reveal the dazed, huddled form of Langston inside.

"You can call me Tammy." the dark woman told him, offering out her hand. "If you have an answer for Him, Langston, now would be a very good time to share."

===========================================================================================================================

Back in the Drowned District, another robed figure made his way through the damp streets, to the front of Andra's shop. Rapping the door smartly, three times, he then entered unannounced. His charge had clearly been up all night, looking distraught, dishevelled, and yet also resolute. She was sitting alone by the fire, waiting for him.

"That was well done last night." The robed man spoke unctuously. Underneath his cowl, he was tall and lanky, almost having to stoop inside the little shop. "Perhaps a little exuberant, but a good start's a good start."

 

[Rufio's Ghost]

A long silence passed between the couple, pausing to consider the weight of Theodore's words.

"I know what your thinking... and until today I felt the same way," her husband admitted haltingly,"... but I've come to realize that our love for that boy is payment for our hubris. Just because we raised it, loved it as our own does not make it our son... For accepting Mylaviss' bastard the divines have made us suffer. We must make amends."

Her and her husband had always seen faith, and the Chantry, through a different lens. On the surface Jeanne seemed like any other citizen within the walls of Kragenau. She attended church regularly, held lavish parties to celebrate holidays, and even publicly defended the beliefs Chantry... when, in all reality, she never really cared for any of it- or even thought about it. She told her husband on multiple occasions that life beyond Feldus was the concern of priests and philosophers, not architects or politicians. She didn't care what would happen after her current life, because this life was the one that counted.

Theodore was the opposite end of the spectrum. A devout man, he cared a great deal for the gods and their teachings, however, he did find himself at odds with one goddess in particular. He cared deeply for his fellow man, even those the priesthood of Gilliajlia deemed wicked, and he openly spoke out against their persecution. He was an idealist who believed there was good in everyone, or at least he had been... Jeanne held her breath, hoping that he hadn't changed.

Her chest tightened "...What are you suggesting?"

"We should turn ourselves in. Allow the High Priests do as they see fit, with him and with us." He stated, "Unless you are against it."

Appalled by her husband's stupidity Jeanne, yelled, "I am completely against it! Teddy- you've lost your fucking mind. They'd kill us all, and I doubt they'd have the courtesy to make it quick." Pointing an accusatory finger at him, she reasserted, "THAT is not a viable option. Don't you dare bring that up ever again."

Teddy sighed a heavy, world weary sigh. His voice, which had been flat and emotionless, was now filled with a deep unmistakable sadness, "I thought you'd say that. I won't mentioned it again. I don't want to risk anything bad to happening to you... not against your wishes."

"But the alternative..." he whispered, "I lack the constitution... I can't bring myself to do it."

"That's it." Jeanne said in a tone that denoted complete and total disgust, "I will not entertain these destructive ideas. Something inside you snapped up there Teddy, you're becoming completely detached and I am not dealing with it. You are not going to turn us in, and I sure as hell am not going to let you hurt, or kill our son."

Aggravated, Theodore snapped back, "Quit calling him that. He is nothing, bastard to the lost God. All he's done with his life is make ours stagnant. He holds us back so that we can never realize our full potential, just as Sandra said."

"Even as a bastard he is still my son." She declared haughtily, "So you can help me figure out how to help him, or you can leave."

"and as dus rots from within, you will come to understand that you were nothing... Know then that your gods have not abandoned you, for who would forsake that which is naught," her husband replied, as if reciting something from book.

"What? Was that suppose to mean anything"

"It's an omen, what Atticus said my line would become." Holding up the small leather bound journal he spoke, his voice steadied, "It's part of his journal, an excerpt written for his brother."

Jeanne snatched the journal form his hand as he continued to speak, "You have to believe me Jeanne, you dig enough through this place and you'll find truth, many dark truths. There are things in here that no should ever know, things no one should ever want to know." His voice broke, "This library- It's where I first saw the truth about Langston so many years ago. It's this line, in this journal. He's soulless, nothing."

Jeanne flipped through the pages, pursing her lips. She was unimpressed, "This is all gibberish, but fine- if what you say is true, I should be able to find the "truth" about our son in these pages." Sitting her down on the ground she added, "If I find proof of what you've said we'll consider our options, but if I don't... we will never speak of it again. Our lives will continue as they once did and we'll put this messy business behind us."

"Now leave me. Go upstairs and pour yourself a drink." Turning back to her book she added, "You could definitely use one."
==========================================================================

"If you have an answer for Him, Langston, now would be a very good time to share."

He didn't want to say yes, but saying no could very well be the last decision he'd make. Tammy had hit the nail on the head, his parents may not believe in every tenet of their faith, but they feared it, they feared Mylaviss, and now... they feared Langston.

"Maybe it's too much to ask of you, but I want to speak with my father first- I, I want to fix this." he explained, taking hold of her hand. Shakily, the young man got up on his feet, practically begging the cloaked woman, "Please Miss Tammy- one more hour, give me that and I'll have your answer."

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

"Please Miss Tammy- one more hour, give me that and I'll have your answer."

"That's a big risk..." Tammy replied, her brow creased. "but," she sighed "it's your call. Just to be safe, I'll be watching..."

In a flash, Tammy disappeared in a swirl of robes, and a brown bat fluttered up into the rafters.

 

[The Funslinger]

"We are ready to begin."

Will contemplated sitting down, but then decided to remain standing. "So... what happens now, exactly?" he asked. He had the distinct feeling something had happened the previous night, after he'd left.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Only 20 minutes had passed when the pale lanky man slunk out of his father's study with a letter clutched tightly in his hand. As his shoulders slumped, he loosened his grip on the crumpled piece of parchment and began wandering aimlessly through the empty halls of the Devero Manor. He took in his surroundings with a flat, vacant expression... this would be the last time he would see this place, and he couldn't feel a thing. All he felt was a cold familiar numbness, the same all-encompassing apathy that he experienced whenever he'd been left alone too long. Though Langston normally loathed this detached lethargic state, it was quickly becoming a welcome change- certainly better than the alternative. For now he was content to think of nothing, to feel nothing, and, most of all, to be nothing.

As the forlorn form of Langston roamed the empty halls of his childhood home, a bat swooped down towards him with a chitter of greeting, before morphing mid-flight back into Tammy's robed form, falling effortlessly into step beside him.

"Well that went... pretty terribly." she remarked "Still, you're still alive. I guess that's something."

Her gaze went down to the envelope Langston was clutching limply in his hand.

"Aren't you going to open that?"

He turned the letter over in his hand and stared. There was no mistaking it, it was Sandra's handwriting. His brow furrowed as his delicate pink eyes filled with a deep unmistakable sadness. His father had pretty much read it to him, or at least he hit on the main points, so why go through it all again?

Without so much as a word of reply, he took the letter and gently folded in into a small square. Placing it in his snug breast pocket, he figured it was best to read it later.

Tammy shrugged.

"Your letter. Your business. Anyway, I held up my end of the bargain, now it's your turn. What say you?"

Langston simply nodded his head.

Tammy smiled.

"Good enough." she said, reaching out and taking hold of Langston's hand. "Cheer up! By the end of today, you'll have a whole new family."

Langston cocked his head to the side. That was one way of looking at it, a new family and new life. Maybe he shouldn't view the joining the Shroud as his only option, but as an opportunity, a chance to be a part of the world he had always hid from. Although it didn't really raise his spirits, it at least sounded a little better.

He tightened his grip on Tammy's hand, he was ready.

"Let's go" he breathed, his voice scarcely a whisper.

Nothing more needed saying, Tammy simply gave Langston's hand a little squeeze, and the two of them vanished, reappearing in an instant in the grand hall of the Sanctum. A crowd had gathered, and the Old Man was addressing them with the welcoming, fatherly smile that Tammy remembered from her induction, that had seemed to make him the most harmless think in the world, despite the blade of shadow at his hip and the sinister blankness of his eyes.

"So... what happens now, exactly?"

"Looks like we got here just in time." Tammy whispered excitedly.

 

[Fappy]

"You won't even know I'm here."

Despite his words, Selena could still feel the invisible man's eyeballs on her for several hours following his quip. Knowing what she knew now about magic and sorcery, as rudimentary as that knowledge was, the cat-eyed girl feared she'd never know privacy again. No matter where she hid, the prying eyes of the shroud could see her. Fortunately for her, these magics were on her side... at least, she was pretty sure they were.

She'd been at the brothel for several hours now and, just as Demeter would have wanted, tended to a pair of johns in order to keep up appearances. If she'd just strolled on in without intending to perform he'd find out and she would just get beaten down once more. Or worse.

After getting dressed, Selena washed her face in the communal bathroom down the hall. As she stood there, staring at her her ragged visage in the mirror, she couldn't shake the unsettling notion that her invisible stalker had watched it all.

Sick fuck.

Hopefully he wasn't telepathic as well.

Just before she left the room, Risa appeared in the doorway. "He's got a new girl in his office as we speak," she told Selena. "He's asked for some stew. I think now's the best chance we've got."

"I'll handle it," Selena said. "Thank you."

"Are you sure?"

Selena stared into her friend's eyes for a long while before answering. "Yes," she whispered. "It'll all be over soon." The two women embraced. Taking the small dose of poison from her friend, Selena hid it in her pocket and headed for the kitchen with Risa in tow.

Matthias, the brothel's sole cook, was busy stirring the concoction he'd prepared for Demeter when Risa suddenly appeared in his kitchen. "Can I help you?" he asked in an unfriendly tone. Fortunately, Matthias was not a bright man and would be easy to dupe. At least, that's what the two women were counting on.

Stepping around him, she offered the bald man a false smile. "Sorry to bother you, but the boss sent me down here for a special request," she lied.

His eyes followed her inconspicuous bust. "Is that so?" he asked.

"Yes, Demeter was wondering if you could add extra pepper."

As Risa told her lie, Selena slipped by with the small vial between her fingers. Popping it open as quietly as possible, she dropped its contents into the stew and continued down the hall. By the time Matthias had turned around, she was already down the hall. "Hey, Sapphire," he called out to her. "You mind takin' this ta' the boss?"

Selena hesitated for a moment. For some reason she figured she didn't have to actually be present for his death.

Coward.

Spoiler: Selena Gonna Do Eet

Turning on her heel, Selena faked a smile and ignored the pain coursing through her bruised face. "Certainly," she cooed.

It was better this way.

A few minutes later...

"You're stew's ready," Selena announced through the door of Demeter's office. Using her rear, she pushed open the door and placed the steaming bowl on his desk in front of him. Before he'd even said a word to her, he slapped her ass and pulled her in closer with his new-found grip.

"Look at her," he mused, pointing to the thin young blond across the room. She was stood there shivering in the nude. "What do you think she'll bring in?"

She was so young.

"More than me," Selena offered with a nervous laugh. The girl avoided eye contact when Selena looked over at her. No doubt Demeter was getting ready to 'test the merchandise'.

"Bullshit!" Demeter barked. "No one can replace my Sapphire." He slid his hand from her rear down to her inner-thigh, under her skirt. "You made me some money this afternoon. I'm glad my words got through to you."

Selena forced a bashful smile. "I'm sorry I disappointed you," she muttered.

"All's forgiven," he announced proudly. "You're even giving me my supper. I could get used to this!" Releasing her from his grip, Demeter pulled the bowl closer to him and grabbed the spoon. Before he could take a bite, however, Selena grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Wait!" she squealed, immediately regretting her actions.

Shit!

Demeter gave her the stink eye. "Bitches best not be getting between me an my food," he warned. "You know that, Sapph."

Selena had gotten cold feet at the worst possible moment.

Commit to this. You have to commit to this.

'... you may not want to admit it yet, but you've already made your choice.'

Instead of stammering like an idiot in an attempt to defend her outburst, Selena leaned in close and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. Demeter relented in sheer surprise, but after a time, he started to enjoy himself. When their lips finally parted, Selena looked him in the eye and whispered in the most angelic tone he'd ever heard. "Thank you, Demeter," she told him. "Thank you for helping me survive all this time."

His bewilderment expired after a few moments. Once his senses had returned, he smiled at her. "Of course, babe," he replied. "Anything for you."

Selena looked over to the poor girl once more. She was terrified. "Why are you wasting time with someone like her?" Selena asked. When she turned her head, she noticed he was already slurping up spoonfuls of his stew. She smiled. "What does she got that I don't?"

Demeter shrugged. "She's young," he said. "Young and blonde. They sell well enough."

Selena cocked an eyebrow. "Is she your type though?" she asked, sitting down at the edge of Demeter's desk.

"What are you getting at Sapphire?" Demeter replied playfully. He was really putting away that stew.

Selena wouldn't let him sink his teeth into another poor, innocent girl before he clocked out for good. No, she'd happily take that bullet herself. There was no longer anything this man could do to hurt her more than he already had. Besides, the scud wouldn't get to her as long as she was careful. Considering her profession, she had to know about these things.

Selena turned her gaze over to the blonde girl and grinned wickedly. "Watch and learn, sweetheart," she purred. Demeter's meal finished, he offered his favorite whore a joyous holler and took her.

Two hours passed before Demeter's heart finally stopped. Mid-coitus, almost like a spontaneous heart attack, he seized up and fell to the side, motionless. Selena simply sat there, completely frozen, and stared down at his pathetic, naked corpse. Her eyes were fixated on his twisted, agonized expression and the puddle of foam and blood oozing out of his mouth. She was completely deaf to the screams of the panicking blonde running out of the room.

Pulling herself to her feet, Selena slipped her black dress back on, pulled her hair out from inside it and stepped into her pumps. It was over. It was done. Demeter was dead.

Looking over her shoulder at the shadow in the back of the room, Selena pursed her lips. "I'm ready," she stated flatly.

 

[lacktheknack]

"That was well done last night. Perhaps a little exuberant, but a good start's a good start."

Andra exploded. "A LITTLE EXUBERANT!" She swept the bloodied clothing off the table into the figure's face in one vicious motion. They were entirely red with at least half a body's worth of blood. "A LITTLE EXUBERANT!"

The figure stared.

"I killed him so thoroughly that there was half a body left!" Andra growled menacingly. "I came running through the streets looking like I just ran a Gilliajlian purge, praying to Gods high and low that no one would recognize me, and have been sitting in absolute terror all night that someone will find me in this state, and you tell me 'it's a good start?!''"

The figure kept staring.

"And you think I'm going to join your cult, so I can relive the most traumatic hour of my life over and over again?"

The figure kept staring.

Then, it hit Andra like a frozen wall of air:

You saved a family.

Andra hesitated.

You fixed something horrible.

Andra didn't want to yell anymore.

You justified it in the end.

Andra suddenly felt very, very tired. She didn't know if the figure was telepathically talking to her, or if it was her own thoughts desperately stitching some sense out of the madness, but they had a point.

But Andra really didn't want to join Mylaviss. Yet she did. But she didn't. And yet...

Andra looked the figure in the eye. "Can you please take me back to the grand hall we were all at yesterday? I left my midwife supplies there."

It wasn't a proper acceptance, but it would hopefully buy Andra more time to think.

 

[Terratina.]

As Skylar silently hid amongst her family, she grew quite acquited with the nitty gritty of servant life. While it was leagues better than the conditions in the Drowned District, the thin barrier between her and her family cut through the young woman like a knife. They had locked her up in a glided cage, they had almost given her to those fanatical zealots of Gilliajlia, but still, with her family there lay some semblance of normality. No strange old men or mocking visions, just the easy life of the middle class. Every time Skylar had shrunk from sight as her parents drew near, she was reminded of the divide and also of the fact that 'normal' would never be a thing for her. At least, hidden like this she could try.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, there was food and a bed to sleep on all in return for some chores. Not murder, just simple tasks.

Skylar mulled over the pros and cons of staying and ignoring the Shroud forever more and of going, freeing Samantha of the burden of hiding her as she chewed a tough piece of bread. Her mind went back to the banquet at the Shroud, salivating at the memory of all that meat. All the servants got in the Swyer household were leftovers and bread probably tough enough to knock someone out if decently thrown. Dark temptation took hold of her but was someone else's life really the price of a few scraps of meat? 'I don't know... I don't know...' Was her answer. Stuck in a rut of indecision, she simply opted to tear another chunk out of the bread with her teeth.

It could hardly be called food.

Mid-bite, Skylar turned as Samantha entered with a severe look, miles tougher than the goddamn bread.

The maid slammed her hands, one of which held a small sack, on the worn wooden table, "You 'ave to go. Can't keep ya 'ere anymore. They're hearin' little footsteps which aren't little Dwight's, I keep tellin' 'em that's rats but I don't think they buy it." She stopped and handed Skylar the sack, "Take this, some coin, clothes and food in there. Change quickly and get out."

Skylar solemnly nodded and took what was offered, "Thank you. For everything. You've always been the older sister I've never had."

Samantha folded her arms, however, her expression softened, "You're certainly abused me like one."

The conversation ended there. Skylar rushed to the servants' quarters and put on the roughly hewn clothes with much haste. She then stuffed the disheveled maid uniform into the snack and sneaked out the servants' entrance. Skylar quickly found the markets and began to wander for a while, taking in the sights and the sounds and the smells; the bustling crowds, loud greengrocers shouting their daily deals and the air was tinged with the scent of oh-so-expensive spices imported from exotic lands, some of which tickled Skylar's nose, making her sneeze. That sneeze wasn't particularly appreciated and people quickly gave her a wide berth, it wouldn't be too long before somebody got the authorities to take the raggedy and possibly sick young woman away...

 

[Daystar Clarion]

"I believe it will be the same for you."

Sparrow's eyes searched the old man's face. What had this man seen? She wondered, what kind of wonders she couldn't even imagine. Despite herself, the girl's cheeks flushed slightly, a shy smile curled her lips as she averted her eyes. Was this what it felt like to be valued? To be seen for what she could be, rather than what she currently was?

The girl had thought on the prospect of the ceremony, what it might entail, whether it would... hurt. Darius could very well be lying, attempting to ease her anxiety about the entire situation.

'Or he could be telling the truth.'

Regardless, she appreciated the man's kind words. "I hope so." She said quietly as she looked at Darius. "That sounds... wonderful."

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

"I'm ready,"

"That you are." replied a disembodied voice, moments before Selena's watcher materialised in the room. He was just about tasteful enough about the whole thing not to clap.

Without another word, he took her by the hand, and, while the screaming spread throughout the brothel and out onto the street, they vanished.

===========================================================================================================================

"Can you please take me back to the grand hall we were all at yesterday? I left my midwife supplies there."

The assassin sent to fetch Andra gave her a knowing smile.

"It would be my pleasure." he replied, offering up his hand to her, before they to were transported to the Sanctum.

===========================================================================================================================

A final hooded figure watched from the rooftops as Skylar tottered down the street in her servant's garb. The main street was far too crowded, and already the girl had drawn attention to herself. Sighing, he raised the tips of his fingers on his left hand to his lips, before rubbing them together, as if sprinkling an invisible pinch of salt. The tattoo on his left hand appeared to burn just a little more brightly, emitting a faint hiss.

At that moment, Skylar's nose was filled with the most intoxicating aroma she had ever known. No one else out on the street knew of it, but to her it was the comforting embrace of kin she'd never had, the, warm, heady scent of feasts she's never eaten, the crisp perfume of a dress she'd never worn, and yet so much more than all of them. It filled her up, smothering any fear or tribulation, any other thought at all in fact. All that mattered was following the smell to where it lead.

========================================================================================================================

"So... what happens now, exactly?"

The Old Man kept on smiling, though his voice took on a slightly more businesslike tone.

"Now, I ask you one final time, for we are truly at the point of no return..." he began "Are you sure that this is what you want? If you become one of us, the Children of this Sanctum, and all others across the world, will be a family to you. We shall provide you with everything you want, and in return, you will share everything you have. We will fight at your side without hesitation or trepidation, ready to kill and die for you whatever the battle; and so, in turn, must you be willing to give everything of yourself to any one of us. Last, but not least, you will be granted great power, to protect your friends and punish your enemies; and also to wield in the name of Mylaviss without question or hesitation, both in life, and in death.

That is what it means to be one of us, and there is no rubbing out or masking over the mark that will tie you to us, and to Him. If you are ready to accept it, then I will lead you to the Chamber of Communion, and present you to Him. From there... he will do the rest."

Both Selena and Andra had arrived in the hall in time to hear the Old Man speak. With a wicked smile, the tall one who had been Andra's chaperone, bent down and whispered to her.

"We can always still give it a few minutes."

 

[Dogmatic99]

Maggy had waited quietly at the back of the room while all the others arrived. Her own robed guide didn't seem all that interested in her, being a cat suited her. Maybe it would suit Maggy too, moving with all that easy grace, slinking around the shadows but seeing everything easy as day. Feeling like a queen in her own tiny gutter kingdom. To prowl as the predator instead of scurrying about like a rat.

She had nothing left to lose and everything to gain. These folks were making a lot of demands on her, blood, life and all but somehow it didn't feel so bad. They weren't like the others, they didn't want her pride or her will. They wanted her soul, sure, but not all of it. She didn't need all of it anyway, she just needed to keep that last little scrap. Better to make one clean down payment with them than the countless tiny tears the drowned wanted.

"We can always still give it a few minutes."

"I don't-" She cleared her throat, he voice was barely a squeak. "I don't need to." She stepped forward.

"I say yes."

 

[EnigmaticSevens]

More bodies, more figures, appearing out of nowhere, as though they'd always been present, just out sight, their entrance subtle enough to make a man doubt his eyes. Ezrah had no such doubts, could afford none. In a world where the magic of story books and old tales was suddenly real as flesh and bone, where prophecy and scripture were matters of reason instead of faith, Ezrah could ill afford to mistrust his own senses, limited as they might have been. The old man, the timeless one, the one who claimed nigh immortality, spoke of what was to come, of the binding to Mylaviss and all of his dark children, of gifts and sacrifices beyond command, of a society that spanned far beyond Kragenau's grim walls. Ezrah waited for some click, some grand inner harmony that would tell him to leap or tell him to flee, some great culmination of all that he'd witnessed, all that he knew, all that he realized he didn't know. This was it, this was when everything was supposed to slide into place, the path of his fate opening up before him like it did in all the godsdamned stories.

Well then?

Nothing happened and Ezrah cracked a small, wry grin. Good enough, Ezrah supposed to much of the cynic beaten down into him by the Marked lingered in his bones for him to ever approach something kin to true, unquestioning faith in any path, any god, any organization. There would always be some reservations, but regardless of how this particular mad play ended, Ezrah knew he wasn't content to watch it from the side lines, he'd have to be in the thick of it. The knowing... that was the honey mixed with this particular venom, the temptation that seemed fit to pull Ezrah along by the loins. He could stomach an existence among the sleepers, the blissfully ignorant, not if it could be helped, not if there was a choice. Hells, who was he kidding, he'd been hooked on Mylaviss lure since the moment he'd caught a whiff of magic. He'd lose limbs before he turned back now. Still, some old habits were rooted in deep, dark places. Would it be wiser to let one of the others venture into this first, to see just how much blood this ritual required.... Ezrah doubted it, suspecting a yes now wouldn't be taken lightly, some old cultish tricks were sure to linger, even in this lot, and a ritual once witnessed tended to be binding. Still Ezrah hesitated a moment, his mouth parted, while a voice not his own piped up. One of the others, a rather small girl, stepped forward, ready for all this dark god had in store for her.

The red-headed boy stepped forward, head high, slight grin still on his face, an almost frantic gleam lingering in the dark pits he called eyes paying heed to the manic thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins," Suspect your mark means more than my last, guess we'll find out one way or 'nother. Yes, my soul to Mylaviss then, in this life and the next."