Of Monsters and Men [Calypso/Yaksha]

Thu Jan 28, 2021 3:44 pm

ENTER THE DREAMER

Song: My Time

A familiar feeling.

The demon reappeared in the far, far wilds of Demon World. Her power took her as far away from where any could easily find her as it could; She didn't want anyone to see her right now. The shame she felt was like a fierce illness, clawing at her innards, making residence of her will. Wrong, wrong, wrong; that's all she felt at the moment - a sensation that would pass with time, but for now she allowed herself to let the awful feeling set and be felt.

She felt drained, not taking too many steps before she decided it wasn't worth it to find a place more comfortable, instead settling on the earth and allowing sleep to take her. She needed rest of some variety, she supposed.

Soon, something formed around her; a pastel-painted garden. She would open her eyes in such a place, however watching the formless, colorful trees sway in the wind, she would discover she couldn't hear the natural sounds of such a place.

She didn't react to her lack of speech, rather just allowing the dream to go about. The place felt familiar, but she didn't dwell on such thoughts, she didn't want to even think for a while, rather just reside in some temporary reprieve of her emotions.

She felt like her body was on autopilot, her mind in some strange in between state of lucid dreaming and not, more or less acting like an observer to herself in such a place. She felt like she was floating, the environment rather calm and serene, as she would walk through the plant-filled paradise.

Though, all would not remain peaceful for long, as she would notice at the corner of her eye, the once lush leaves had darkened, torn, and looked as if they had eyes upon them, oozing with a strange substance that almost appeared as tears.

Her unusual walk continued, the trees themselves full of crying, oozing eyes, blinking occasionally as they even appeared to breathe... With pain. Horrible pain. Her track was stopped short as she felt something touch her ankle, her gaze lowering to match the source of the warm, stick-like sensation.

It was a skeleton, burned to charcoal by the flames coating it's body, mouth agape as it's eyeholes, though empty, were brimming with agony; The fires of hell came from the brush as more flaming, limping skeletons walked out from the shadows, the sound of ringing forming in her ears, growing louder and louder, as the looming shadow of buildings surrounded her, the garden slowly becoming less and less abstract...

***

Her white eyes opened to a tree-covered sky, sunlight filtered through the leaves as she slowly sat up, body covered in gently colored leaves, taking a good look around. It looked almost as if she was put into a forest, but it didn't take long for her to figure out where she was, given the dark structures that poked out just barely above the canopy.

"...Here again?"

She had awakened back in Jefferson, back in the garden she had made in memorial to those who were killed in the tragedy. She was but a child, unable to save all of them, or do anything, falling apart to witnessing... She couldn't recall. Something here caused her to fall apart, but it was no longer a thing she could recall.

Oh well. She wasn't in the best of moods to dwell on the past.

She remained in the place she awoke, a small flowerbed that had formed over time. The plants had taken rather well, and had grown so quickly. Though, she could sense other entities in this city. It only made her look at one of the flowers before her, her gaze resting on it.

"A humble little flower, you think you are?"

She placed a finger on one of it's delicate petals, gently stroking it as she softly spoke,

"Not a thought in your head that your roots would impose upon others, is there? Do you think yourself more beautiful than the other flowers? Full of potential? Different?"

Her gaze shallowed as she released a soft sigh, "No little flower, you're no different than the rest of your patch. No matter how much you try to stand out."

She looked off into the distance, and sighed, laying her head down, "..You'll just get uprooted like the rest of your brethren when those with the power to tear you from the earth come. And sadly, that seems soon.."

Thu Feb 11, 2021 3:54 pm

Yaksha, The Überseele

Yaksha

"Why plant a garden of nothing but the same plants? Every one stands out, because every one is a flower. Designed to be beautiful, and nothing else. Most cannot scarce survive a year without outside help. The very fact they bloomed at all shows they are loved, does it not?"

The voice seemed to drift from the ground itself, eerily familiar, and strangely calm for the circumstances. It wouldn't have been hard to assume that she was having some kind of dissociative break from reality in that moment, given the fate that had befallen that voice. A fate anyone would know of, a fate that made Jefferson look tame by comparison. And yet there was something strangely -right- about it, the sense that there wouldn't, couldn't be anyone else giving council at a moment like this.

And as Calypso felt the presence of multiple powerful people drifting closer, there was one who dwarfed all of them, one who dwarfed even her, that seemed deep enough to be the ground itself, some sort of genius loci manifest with the will of a man who had been rebellious enough to stand firm against the King of Hollows, the self-proclaimed god of an entire dimension. What else could be more right than for him to be here, now?

And just like that, he was. His head poked up from the ground, as he seemed to rise from the stone itself like he was climbing a staircase, bit by bit becoming unearthed as he walked. His shoulders popped above the crust, and a moment later the tips of his wings could be seen. Then his elbows were exposed, and those enormous leathery appendages expanded outwards with a flapping sound, with surprisingly little ceremony. It could've been someone shaking the dust out of a carpet for all the noise he made as he continued to simply...appear.

And when he was finished, he looked back over his shoulder at Calypso, head tilted faintly to the side, green eyes flickering like torchlight as he seemed to drink in her presence. His mask covered his mouth, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking, or how he looked. But all the same, it was clear there was a smile on his face as he watched the young demon lie on her bed of flowers.

"Is my little dreamer finally waking up? Or do you wish to dream forevermore? Surely, you weren't going to leave without saying goodbye. Stand up, dear. And tell me of what I've missed during my long slumber."

Coding Altered From: [The Frost]

Thu Feb 11, 2021 5:45 pm

Yaksha, The Überseele

Yaksha

Once more there was a sudden sense of amusement from the hollow, but it was mangled with a sort of strained patience, a sense that he was prepared to wade through an infinite number of stupid comments to get to the one or two gems worth saying. His wings simply began to fold closer to his back, like someone who was putting away their clothing for later use. There was more silence as he circled her, head canting side to side periodically, like a bird of prey looking at a potential meal.

"Such defeatist talk. I can't imagine it took a full decade for that wretched shitpile of a thing we called a world war to end, given the state of things when last I checked in. And yet you are so markedly old. You remind me of a young girl I met, one who walked with me through the streets of my city. And you talk as if you are her. But how can that be, I wonder?"

He splayed his legs wide, one of his tails supporting his weight as he entered into a lotus position, legs folded, hovering a few feet above her now as he let out a pensive sucking noise, like a drain being unclogged. All along his white carapace, red etchings began to flare into life, gently at first, and becoming clearer; as if they were bits of flotsam drifting to the surface from a shipwreck. Each one flared into life gently, before dulling down to a glow closer to a candle's light.

"I am a creature of instinct, you realize. And that means I trust my gut when it comes to matters such as these. Everything I sense tells me that this is not our first meeting. You insist on toying with an old man's unreliable memory, which only leads me to believe you haven't grown nearly as much as your appearance would imply. Or is it perhaps that you yourself feel as if you've not grown? I could understand how seeing a blast from your past such as this would make you revert to your old ways, but...this much?"

There was some faint wistful edge of mischief in his voice as he looked at her, seemingly talking to himself the entire time. Yet there was such an air about him, such certainty and such a meandering pace to his words, as if he were dancing in place even as he silently stood and watched her. It was clear he expected a response, that he knew she wanted to ask plenty of her own, and he had no intention of answering any of them for the time being.

Coding Altered From: [The Frost]

Thu Feb 11, 2021 9:44 pm

Yaksha, The Überseele

Yaksha

For a moment, Yaksha's own brain felt sluggish, moving through mud or thick syrup. He knew everything he wanted to say, and knew everything about this girl in front of him, but every fiber of his being was screaming at him, telling him it was too soon. That he was taking a hideous risk surfacing when the war had only just ended, when there was still so many possibilities for disaster. It told him that he was still tired, so ungodly tired, and that stepping back into the limelight this soon was the wrong thing to do.

He had survived this long, it had become a habit; he simply was so good at it, his body had no idea how to do anything else. The idea of standing toe-to-toe with the Vandenreich and whoever else took their corner, with no help and no support, was too daunting. He'd stood before Ravan and spoken to him as if he were an unruly child. He'd butted heads with Ulv many times, quite literally once or twice. But this was something else. There was no single person he could speak to, and even if they were, what could be said? This was antithesis. He could as soon speak to fire, and ask it to stop burning.

But then the face of the girl in front of him lit up, going back fifteen years in the blink of an eye. She was young once again, and so very full of potential. So many great things that could be nurtured and grown if planted in fertile soil, and watched over. Just like...well, her garden. And for a moment he blanked out entirely, his tail even losing its ability to hold him up as he tried in vain to remember the name of the girl in front of him.

"I'm sorry, dear. These last two years have been hard for me. I've had precious little company. Was it Calliope? ...Calistria? I want to say Calli for some reason, but...I'm sorry. I only remember that you were one of Ulv's friends."

He lifted a hand and weaved it vaguely through the air as he heard her own comments about memory. It seemed she had forgotten a great deal, probably repressed it. That she had experienced some torment beyond the bounds of mankind in Hell. Well, wasn't that what the realm trafficked in? You couldn't swing a cat without hitting ten different torments. And this girl looked like she was going through all of them, at the same time.

"What could you have done? Or I? Any of us? This is -war-. Look around you, at the cost of victory, and the penance of defeat. It is the same, whichever side you stood on, and wherever you stand at the end of it. If you were audacious in forgetting, then I am guilty of the sin of envy. I wish I could wipe the very word Vegas from my vocabulary."

He began to scoot a bit closer to her, his expression curious, pensive, filled with something hard to define in human terms. It was a queer, hungry, and strangely detached thing. Like he was trying to remember how to speak a language, or looking for the missing puzzle pieces in his mind's eye as he tried to figure out what the picture was laid out before him.

"You are a Danava, aren't you? I've felt that aura. Formed from the fever dreams of a blind idiot god. A creature that knows nothing of man, save what it can glean from observation. And a YOUNG one, at that. What else would you be, if not a fool? The fool is where the journey begins, little one. Didn't you know at least that much? We always start at the fool. And as we caper and dance and move throughout this world, from towers to kingdoms to the sun and the moon, we realize who we truly want to be."

"And with that said...I am still very much in need of some enlightenment myself. This place. Was it also the work of Nagato? His death throes, as he was finally put to task, one can dream."

Coding Altered From: [The Frost]

Mon Feb 15, 2021 1:55 pm

Yaksha, The Überseele

Yaksha

"You speak of oxymorons, Calypso. Humility in one's roots? Look at those flowers before you and tell me they are humble in any way. One does not set down roots with intent to do nothing. Trees grow tall and proud because of their roots. Their reach exceeds their grasp, and because of this they are some of the most majestic and impressive constructs found in this world."

He once more circled the demon in front of him, voice remaining soft and composed as he seemed to drink in of her emotion, with an aura similar to a lizard basking on a rock that had soaked in the sun's rays for a time. He seemed almost to be taking on her stresses through some sort of mental osmosis as he continued to circle, gauging every tiny detail; her stance, her tone, the way she hesitated between each sentence, and the cadence. And with each circle, his own demeanor seemed to grow calmer still, like he was transmuting all of that negativity into something pure and untouched.

"You attempted to lay claim to a part of Hell, no doubt. And demons being what they are, unable to fight their own essential nature, they shunned you and sought to see you brought low for your ambitions. They forget there was once a time they too were as new as you, and saw the world in such a simple way. It is true that in Hell, there is scarcely a place to be found for those who wish to produce something. But is it not the Asthavon way to go where one is not wanted? You need only look at this country to know the answer."

He gestured behind himself, causing a single white flame to appear at the tip of his finger, as if he were a leaking faucet, his spirit energy gently overflowing. It began to expand and round out until it resembled a fat droplet of water that was on the very verge of falling, or perhaps a ripe fruit fit to burst, so heavy that the branch it was clinging to could no longer support it. And with a single flex of that finger, it detached, drifting around his head, seeming to sing in some fractured voice that was eerie and soothing at the same time.

"Know who you are, Calypso. Those who dream are never fit for humility. It doesn't fit you in the slightest. You woke up from a dream, and are now looking upon what is left. You think you are the first this has happened to? You truly believe you alone know the pain of trying to help others and being rebuffed? Think for a moment about who you speak to, child of Mana. You stand in one of two ruins in this country. This one, your failing. The other, mine."

He leaned forward, sudden heat and vitriol pulsating off of Yaksha, like the sun itself; the force of his attention was unnerving, and the sudden sense of disappointment, fiery and intense enough to crush carbon into diamonds with its sheer pressure, was palpable. It made the air itself feel thick, like trying to breathe soup.

"If the scales have finally fallen off of your eyes, then look around you. Here, and now. You are both wanted and needed in this place. You felt them, just as I did. The intruders upon this place. Those who would say this war-torn place has no room for beauty. They would, with hands filled with love, smother this country to death. You of all should know, Danava...that when one awakens from a dream, it is never long before the next takes hold."

Coding Altered From: [The Frost]

Mon Mar 01, 2021 4:11 pm

Yaksha, The Überseele

Yaksha

"Sirsa? Vicara? These names mean nothing to me, you realize. I am a product of mankind, and you are not. You stem from the diseased mind of a blind idiot god, who styles himself fit to create life as well as any other. But only one is fit to make humans, child. And that is human; none but humans know what it means to be human. Even I can but scarce remember it, like looking upon a puzzle nearly finished, but missing pieces; perhaps a tenth of it, perhaps less. But those most crucial parts endlessly elude me. I am -of- humans, but not human. You are -of-...nothing but yourself."

He turned towards her, something strange in his gaze, hard to define; some mingling of disgust and pity, like he was trying his very hardest not to speak ill of a person's deformity while they were within earshot. Or like he was trying to figure out if it was within his means to help in any meaningful way. He seemed on the verge of simply flying away, or walking off into some portal he created, that only he could see. His tails began to coil around his shoulders, the two of them like ropes draped over his body.

"I wear the chains I made in life. I forged them, link by link. I stay in the human world because I know that this is where I -belong-. Like a salmon, swimming upstream. And yet, I am far smarter than any mere salmon. Some gut instinct, some mere impulse of longing? That could never compel me to action. I am here because I owe a debt greater than can be paid in any human lifetime. The shinigami claim that their blades will cleanse me of sins, and I would be thrilled if it could be that simple. But my soul screams out to me, every day. It tells me the only true penance is day by day, forevermore. That I do not have the luxury of walking away from myself. I suppose I would've been a very bad Catholic. No satisfaction would ever be satisfactory."

Silence reigned for several long moments now, like he was trying to organize his thoughts, or like that attempt at speech had exhausted him. He seemed to be trying to figure out the next words he wanted to say very carefully. Or like he feared whatever he said might drive her away as surely as he would have, only a moment ago. He had, through efforts greater than what any human mind could ever fathom, swallowed his disgust at something alien, something that had no place in the world of mankind. Could she do the same?

There was only one way to know.

"...It seems. To me. That you owe a far greater debt to the people of this place than the people of Sirsa. Or Vicara. And that your road to forgiveness should not be any easier than mine. I don't know about vision, or intellect. I've never felt all that exceptional in those rights. I am merely a man. And yet, even so, I have spent over two millennia trying to finally find some suitable penance for the mess I made of my life. I suppose, if bringing this species of sinners back into god's good graces is to be my penance? I could live with that. What of you, Calypso? ...What penance could you live with? More of your family, every day? A neverending reminder of the scars they left somewhere else and then simply...walked away from?"

Coding Altered From: [The Frost]

Of Monsters and Men [Calypso/Yaksha]

Of Monsters and Men [Calypso/Yaksha]

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