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Picking up the pieces: 1. - Mannaz

Word Count: 1,187
C/S: Canon
Characters: Masques, Six-Spirit
Rating: AA


As I paced back and forth across the stone flooring of his room, the armored tops of my feet made soft clicking noises. Unable to take my eyes off the stone egg in my hand, my words slipped out like the draft under a window. "I'll be denying my duties if I do this. The orders of those set above me." Like most of those in the Great Tower, I knew someone would rise to the argument. The threat of disappointment was quickly banished.

"I don't know why you're eating yourself up over this. We both know in the end, you'll just do it." The words were like honey laced with battery acid, all the better to get you to open up willingly, or eat through your armor, whichever worked best.

"Kodor, you don't understand. If I go after them now, they're not going to just be upset at Us and give us a reprimand. They already think We, specifically you and I, have gone bloody Trespasser." They had a point too. Gods above and below, we had been played, all of us. "That and our long association with Cyrus looks pretty damnably persuasive."

"Yes Knight, I know. I also know that thanks to that wonderful trauma, we're linked deeper than you're ready to admit. You're still going to do it, even if I have to do what's necessary to -make- Us do it." I stopped at his words and looked in on myself, realizing that he wasn't kidding, he was in his full war form and poised to make a dash for our core. Poor Elijah hadn't stopped crying since the break, which means that I'd had to armor up more fully than normal. No one had seen Us without our helmet for a week after the... incident. If I let it down, even for a moment, Elijah would bleed through, and we'd be vulnerable. There were still too many people who wanted our head for the incident to consider even -looking- vulnerable.

Except now that Kodor had my attention focused on Eli, he wasn't crying any more. He was actually staring me down right alongside Kodor, and that -never- happens. What had -happened- when we broke? Trying to remember it was like trying to walk through a funhous mirror maze. We kept bumping into each other's perspective, confusing everything into a too many perspectives. But here was little Eli staring me down before his little voice spoke. "We're going to find Them."

I blinked inwardly and looked for the others, Xolotil just stared back with unblinking eyes. No guidance there. Wen just looked at me, already in her duster, six shooters holstered underneath her voluminous chest. For that matter Ran was decked out for a long journey, his traveling pack already slung over his shoulder. Great. -I- was the one holding -everyone- else up. Sometimes you just have to swallow your pride. Not an easy thing to do for a Knight. "Very well, but I hold us all equally responsible. This is a unanimous decision."

Five heads nodded back at me, shocking me as even Xolotil agreed instead of abstaining as is his norm. "Then it is agreed. The Masques shall quest for the shards of... the Shards. Wen, if you could do the honor of letting Six-Spirit know?" The slightest nod from within and our forms flowed like melted wax until I stood, hands on the butts of my revolvers. Knowing who I was most likely to run into I pulled the bandolier straps tighter inbetween my breasts, accentuating them further. Pausing to apply the perfect perssimon pucker paint upon my lips, I then made my way down to Six-Spirit's room, knocking three times upon the door.

When he opened the door his eyes were red rimmed, though he tried to hide it quickly with a bit of glamour. Perry's the cute sort, but flirts when he should go for the gusto. Ah well, flirting would work just fine here too. "Right, Peregrine, ah need ta have someone on this rock know wha's going on. An since yer a noice boy an'all ah thought ah'd trust a bit o' this to ye." In for a penny, in for a pound... "An ah know ye'd nae say anythin..." I never got to finish saying what I planned as the growl that erupted out of that throat was -not- Perry. I fell backwards as he form exploded into Nemera whose eyes glowed in the suddenly dim light.

"Who do you think you are to come in here like this and taunt Us?" Her breath was as clean as any carnivores ever is, and I took a moment to revel in the feel of her fur and weight on me before the all too sharp feel of her claws brought me back fully to reality. The sound of a hammer being drawn back and the suddenly cold glint in my eyes stopped the whole world for a moment, giving our not-so-friendly panther a moments reflexion.

"Ah don really wan tae splatter yer guts o'er m'overcoat ma'am, but yer right. This is nae time fer tauntin." Cats don't like being looked in the eye, it's an aggression sign to them. Needless to say my own green eyes never left hers. I pressed the gun barrel against her ribs to accentuate my point. "But we do needs someone ta know where we be gone to lass. You're as good as good Peregrine, better e'en as we don have ta butter ye up. We're going after tha Shards, and tha Council can go hang if they fookin disagree."

Her eyes never left mine either, I'm sure that they saw down through to the core of us in that moment, judging us, seeing if we were indeed that foolish. Then she got up off of me, and without ever loosing that stare, paced back into the room to watch us. "Go then. We will see if you go Trespasser for ourselves."

Never argue with an angry and upset Nemera. I got up and didn't even bother to brush off the dust from the floor. Someone knew after all. Closing the door to Six-Soul's room I made my way through the rest of the Tower. Where better a place to start then where it all ended. The direct portal to New New Orleans was closed, but we knew other ways. Ran always knows other ways. I smirked as our horns pushed out of the top of our skull, the wide brimmed leather hat adjusting for the new intruders. With the soft certainty of not knowing where this particular door went too, we opened it up, and stepped through... right out of a graveyard mausoleum. Gripping the egg tightly I could feel it pulse in the direction of many of the hundreds of new portals created that night by the death of our beloved. Trusting to luck we bounded amongst the soggy grave soil and concrete burial chambers towards the nearest portal through which passed a fragment of our beloved. Our Wylde Hunt was on, and Death would not stand in our way.

Comments

( 1 traveler — cross over )
queenie_writes
May. 10th, 2009 11:42 pm (UTC)
*Squeee*
( 1 traveler — cross over )