03-01-2018, 07:42 AM
Myst stood in the shadow furthest away from the ceramic golem, which she had a rough time choosing between that and the closest shadow to Dane - of all people.
Dane was by far the worse friend to have. Clownpiece’s madness barely covered his tracks as he walked all over her. Perhaps that was the plan all along. Or maybe she was aware of how much of a scumbag he was but has settled to change it in some way for a time unknown to the others.
Afrátos, China, knew full well of his darkness. First hand the victim of his selfish pleasures of the mind and body. Betrayal followed the wake of his confident laced swagger as he walked this plane. Eventually, the torch of his master may not be enough to blind him to Dane’s mastery of manipulation.
Myst was no less of a fool in his web, her complacency her coffin’s top while she waited comfortably until it was her turn to be used. Her turn to prove her usefulness to the groups uncontested leader and what ever demented plan he cooked up then or later.
However, the wood began to crack under the strain of reality as she stood in the background and watched the show unravel its comedy and drama across the stage. Was Dane aware that she began to slowly understand his position the longer this Act continued? Did he think he could sweet talk even her into delusions spun by his broken mind?
None of these questions mattered in the least… Neither did the answers. The truth was that while Cassandra could grasp that this man that teased the blonde fairy was not the same man that tugged her along, she found no desire or reason to leave with her back turned to them all. The large creature had indeed left her more wounded than the man pulling his mask off in front of her and these other characters. Actors. Her green eyes turned from player to player, committing their names to memory.
For a girl who no longer knew what true friendship was or was meant to be, these people were all she had in this harsh new world. Friends didn't always mean more than allies. Even the man who had made a point to tenderly teach her seemed to have some other agenda. Now it just felt more present. Hindsight, after all.
As Yuuka, composed and serious, looked onto them with her thoughts to herself for now and the others taking in what she DID say. Myst herself only offered as much of reasoning as she braved to. Everyone else was eager to dive right in but the years behind the young and slightly rounded face told Myst to be more cautious.
Years…
How many had it been now? Has Sandy always been this submissive and afraid to accidentally chip at fragile relationships or else they turn out just as Afrátos did? Centuries?
Myst looked down at an empty glass near hand which sat randomly on a surface any drunk would mistaken for a table, picking it up and inspecting its sides for her reflection. Contrary to what those people back in her world believed, the silly fairy tales and movies, vampires very much had reflections. Almost all of the rumored things to deter an undead from killing you was almost complete bull. Especially a Pure Blood.
She preferred garlic to onions, but she could eat both. She had a reflection, she had a shadow, she was truly and honestly here. She wasn’t OCD and could resist very well not to count mustard seeds or poppy seeds if they were scattered across porches. She was very capable of walking in the sun for at least a couple hours - not that this mattered in this place. And despite sending her heart into her throat, water did not physically hurt her anymore. She was deathly afraid of it still.
A stake through her heart would kill her just as easily as it might kill Dane or the others. And it didn't have to be wooden specifically. Blessed water didn't burn her, crosses didn’t send her screaming into the next town, religion as a whole could not touch her. In the depths of her secret thoughts, she even damned God to his own hell for what he has allowed to happen to her. It was unclear if she still had contempt for the heavenly father.
However, the opposite legends were also untrue. Myst was as physically strong as she appeared to be. Mentally she wasn't much better. Her heart, though it had once some time ago hadn’t even been able to beat, was her strongest attribute. Connections were not things a young girl who didn’t age and constantly had to pick up her life could afford. When you were ready to abandon everything but the books you treasure for the sake of stepping around suspicious humans, getting attached to those who’d sooner slaughter or enslave her was not ideal.
Another lesson learned in harshest ways…
Cassie was not powerful in any other way either. She did not have the ability to control these people with just her will. She did not possess anything cooler than fangs that were real. She wasn't dark and edgy. She did not sleep in a coffin. Nor was she all that mythical gorgeous. Her looks were ‘pretty enough’ at best. And that was not because she was a vampire, but because she was from a good family before she had been kidnapped that night…
She put the cup down, a blanket of melancholy wrapped around her like a queen’s cloak draping her.
So far she’s offered the smallest tribute to the conversation. She did not regret that. The French woman instead regrets not having any other ideas to help with. She was afraid to admit she knew nothing of combat. She couldn't even throw a proper punch, hell... Neither an improper punch. However, she had a lot of time. Plenty of time to read. Novels of adventures just like this. Adventures that she’d never normally do even when she lived in the years that some of her authors tried to replicate in their pages. Some of them even succeeded.
Sandy would never have pictured people like the ones before her as the main characters in one of these books. She did see a handsome rogue, but his charm lacked the suave touch most hero’s radiated. She saw the typical other worldly animal companion in the multi-limbed beast being coddled by the comedy relief. The smart one was clearly her first friend. The strong one must be this new girl. Leaving only the annoying and the helpless.
With the broken English of Afrátos’ words echoing through her mind and soul, Myst could only imagine that she filled both of these roles.
“Maybe we should get a room? Rest for ze fight ahead?” She offered quietly. Whether they heard or even took her advice was up to the leaders of the group, which some how felt like everyone but her and Afrátos, those with stronger spines than her. "We can plan privately." She offered, which caused a shadow to duck down behind the window, to which Myst continued to be unaware of.
Dane was by far the worse friend to have. Clownpiece’s madness barely covered his tracks as he walked all over her. Perhaps that was the plan all along. Or maybe she was aware of how much of a scumbag he was but has settled to change it in some way for a time unknown to the others.
Afrátos, China, knew full well of his darkness. First hand the victim of his selfish pleasures of the mind and body. Betrayal followed the wake of his confident laced swagger as he walked this plane. Eventually, the torch of his master may not be enough to blind him to Dane’s mastery of manipulation.
Myst was no less of a fool in his web, her complacency her coffin’s top while she waited comfortably until it was her turn to be used. Her turn to prove her usefulness to the groups uncontested leader and what ever demented plan he cooked up then or later.
However, the wood began to crack under the strain of reality as she stood in the background and watched the show unravel its comedy and drama across the stage. Was Dane aware that she began to slowly understand his position the longer this Act continued? Did he think he could sweet talk even her into delusions spun by his broken mind?
None of these questions mattered in the least… Neither did the answers. The truth was that while Cassandra could grasp that this man that teased the blonde fairy was not the same man that tugged her along, she found no desire or reason to leave with her back turned to them all. The large creature had indeed left her more wounded than the man pulling his mask off in front of her and these other characters. Actors. Her green eyes turned from player to player, committing their names to memory.
For a girl who no longer knew what true friendship was or was meant to be, these people were all she had in this harsh new world. Friends didn't always mean more than allies. Even the man who had made a point to tenderly teach her seemed to have some other agenda. Now it just felt more present. Hindsight, after all.
As Yuuka, composed and serious, looked onto them with her thoughts to herself for now and the others taking in what she DID say. Myst herself only offered as much of reasoning as she braved to. Everyone else was eager to dive right in but the years behind the young and slightly rounded face told Myst to be more cautious.
Years…
How many had it been now? Has Sandy always been this submissive and afraid to accidentally chip at fragile relationships or else they turn out just as Afrátos did? Centuries?
Myst looked down at an empty glass near hand which sat randomly on a surface any drunk would mistaken for a table, picking it up and inspecting its sides for her reflection. Contrary to what those people back in her world believed, the silly fairy tales and movies, vampires very much had reflections. Almost all of the rumored things to deter an undead from killing you was almost complete bull. Especially a Pure Blood.
She preferred garlic to onions, but she could eat both. She had a reflection, she had a shadow, she was truly and honestly here. She wasn’t OCD and could resist very well not to count mustard seeds or poppy seeds if they were scattered across porches. She was very capable of walking in the sun for at least a couple hours - not that this mattered in this place. And despite sending her heart into her throat, water did not physically hurt her anymore. She was deathly afraid of it still.
A stake through her heart would kill her just as easily as it might kill Dane or the others. And it didn't have to be wooden specifically. Blessed water didn't burn her, crosses didn’t send her screaming into the next town, religion as a whole could not touch her. In the depths of her secret thoughts, she even damned God to his own hell for what he has allowed to happen to her. It was unclear if she still had contempt for the heavenly father.
However, the opposite legends were also untrue. Myst was as physically strong as she appeared to be. Mentally she wasn't much better. Her heart, though it had once some time ago hadn’t even been able to beat, was her strongest attribute. Connections were not things a young girl who didn’t age and constantly had to pick up her life could afford. When you were ready to abandon everything but the books you treasure for the sake of stepping around suspicious humans, getting attached to those who’d sooner slaughter or enslave her was not ideal.
Another lesson learned in harshest ways…
Cassie was not powerful in any other way either. She did not have the ability to control these people with just her will. She did not possess anything cooler than fangs that were real. She wasn't dark and edgy. She did not sleep in a coffin. Nor was she all that mythical gorgeous. Her looks were ‘pretty enough’ at best. And that was not because she was a vampire, but because she was from a good family before she had been kidnapped that night…
She put the cup down, a blanket of melancholy wrapped around her like a queen’s cloak draping her.
So far she’s offered the smallest tribute to the conversation. She did not regret that. The French woman instead regrets not having any other ideas to help with. She was afraid to admit she knew nothing of combat. She couldn't even throw a proper punch, hell... Neither an improper punch. However, she had a lot of time. Plenty of time to read. Novels of adventures just like this. Adventures that she’d never normally do even when she lived in the years that some of her authors tried to replicate in their pages. Some of them even succeeded.
Sandy would never have pictured people like the ones before her as the main characters in one of these books. She did see a handsome rogue, but his charm lacked the suave touch most hero’s radiated. She saw the typical other worldly animal companion in the multi-limbed beast being coddled by the comedy relief. The smart one was clearly her first friend. The strong one must be this new girl. Leaving only the annoying and the helpless.
With the broken English of Afrátos’ words echoing through her mind and soul, Myst could only imagine that she filled both of these roles.
“Maybe we should get a room? Rest for ze fight ahead?” She offered quietly. Whether they heard or even took her advice was up to the leaders of the group, which some how felt like everyone but her and Afrátos, those with stronger spines than her. "We can plan privately." She offered, which caused a shadow to duck down behind the window, to which Myst continued to be unaware of.