Awakening

[Loki]

Omi clawed his way through the debris that had once been someone’s house. He would have panicked at being buried so far beneath the surface if he had still needed air. It had been a rather large house, and Omi hadn’t expected it to collapse the way it did. Some of the Shades must have made contact with the others—that always had disastrous results. After hours of work, what seemed like an eternity, Omi was able to thrust his hand up through the final layer of debris and into the wasteland above.

A moment later the rest of his body crawled out of the shelter that the building had provided. He pushed himself to his feet and turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings. Everything was gone, either burning or burned. There wasn’t much chance that he’d find any of his warriors left in this area. There probably wasn’t even enough of their bodies left to bring back.

Omi checked that his two swords remained in place, despite the damage that had befallen their sheaths and the clothing he wore. After another look around the wasteland he spoke to himself, “All under Heaven is burning. What did the barbarians do to bring the fires down on them?” He paused, rechecked his weapons, and began to trudge off in the direction of Cizok. “Shit,” he muttered beneath his breath as the stench of roasted flesh and bone reached him.

[littlebean]

As if he were avoiding pursuit Emli trudged through the debris as fast as his damaged feet could carry him, limp after awkward limp through the unfamiliar land, trying to examine the area with the few of his senses that functioned properly. The area around him wasn't much unlike his home. The texture of the rough and burning earth was familiar to his grotesquely calloused feet, and the strong pungent scent of burning reminded him all too well of the place he used to live in. The smoke wafted upwards and his eyes followed the smokes direction into something completely new and unique to him, the sky. This was his first ever experience with a real honest to goodness sky, and even through the bitter suffocating smell of smoke the sky smelled wonderful.

There was also something else he smelled aside from burning wood and dead bodies. It wasn't exactly what he dug up to the surface for, but it was different from other bodies, it was an alive body, he could smell the breath coming from it. He slowed his pace, tired from the long hop-skip run into a slow walk, approaching the source of the smell. At first through the smoke he would appear as a bizarre tottering silhouette but as he got nearer he became a human like figure, featureless and faceless behind his gas mask and clothing. Only his hands and lower legs were visible, and neither were visually pleasing to the eye. Good or bad? Friend or foe? That was for Omi to decide, if need be, Emli was considering ignoring him and walking right past him, but for now, there he was. Emli was there.

[Loki]

Omi heard something near him and turned toward it. He placed one rotted hand on the hilt of his sword, loosening it in its sheath. He had stopped walking when he heard the noise, and was waiting patiently for the creature to draw near. By the look of the clothing Omi judged the newcomer to be barbarian, and thus not worthy of much greeting. The undead warrior did, however, bow very slightly as courtesy would require of him.

From what he saw, the creature—or man, if he was a man—posed little threat. That didn’t mean much in the world, as many who did not present an outward threat were capable of summoning the forces of magic to their aid. Omi himself knew full well the sting of the spell-caster’s wrath. He remained on his guard, his hand still on his blade, while he waited for a polite greeting from the traveler.

[littlebean]

Instead of walking right past the stranger as Emli originally intended to, something went wrong with his plan. It seemed as though time had stopped as the two people, for whatever reason exchanged a long suspenseful glare, eyes locked in what felt like a permanent staring contest. Omi would be the winner, his strange gesture of bowing caused Emli to blink several times (although it couldn't be seen well through his mask) and tilt his head in confusion.

Maybe this was how the people of the surface greeted eachother. Out of politeness Emli greeted the strange man with a wave of his mole hand and a nice little hello,

"HI!" In a loud yell to the person ahead of him. He wasn't too unlike himself actually. In fact, he looked almost identical to him save the fact that his ears were larger and his hands were smaller. They were also clutched onto a blade, which naturally caused Emli to feel really uneasy. His eyes stayed on the blade the whole time. By the looks of it, this new stranger was more of a threat than himself, sword and everything. Hopefully he didn't get any ideas because Emli wasn't in any shape to run away. Actually he was so tired of standing that he just flunked himself onto the ground, his heavy bag making a large thump behind him.

[Loki]

The shout would have annoyed Omi if he had been mortal, but he had given up such petty emotions when he crossed over. He recognized the language as the one spoken most commonly by the barbarian peoples, and he even understood the greeting for what it was. He knew their language, but he hated it. It was so ugly, so brutish, so worthy of the barbarians. His own native language was much more elegant, and much more capable of conveying the ideas and ideals of the warrior caste.

The language aside, the creature’s decision to sit did draw Omi’s ire. Without hesitation he withdrew his blade halfway from its place. The metal made a slight sound, though not much of one, as it scraped against the wooden sheath. When the weapon, half-drawn in a quick motion, reached its position the undead spoke, “It is improper for the low caste to seat themselves before their betters.” He spoke in the common tongue, the foul and disgusting common tongue, for the creature’s benefit. There would be no honor in removing the man’s head if he did not understand the warning that was being given, after all.

[littlebean]

Things had turned out for the worst for Emli, and he was regretting the simple decision of sitting down and resting his malformed feet. His feet ached and begged for a rest, and eventually he listened to their pleas and seated himself on the ground. He had no sense of time or direction, it was beyond him for far he had hobbled away and for how long, but he was sitting, he needed to. If he knew sitting down would have offended the man so much, he would have struggled onward until he found a more suitable and safe place to rest. He was actually looking forward to pulling out some food from his bag and sitting down for the first meal of his day.

His pose was stiff, his hand on his pickaxe, watching and waiting for the next possible move. He was torn about his decision, this man had a sword and was clearly trained in using it. Even with a weapon of his own Emli was no fighter, and was trained only to dig, which was his second option. It seemed to be the safer of the two, but would he have enough time to dig a hidey hole and escape?

Fuck. If this mans eyes were sharp enough and he could see through his mask, he would see that Emli's blind eyes were wide open with terror. A fight? He stood no such a chance. For a moment Emli stood there perfectly stiff, gasping from the far run and whimpering with fear. The possibility that in a single moment his life could be ended was very real. What was worse was the huge communication barrier between him and the hostile man.

He couldn't hear what he was saying very well. How could he talk and convince the man not to kill him? He wouldn't get somewhere very far without trying. He let go of his pickaxe and let it land on the ground with a clang, and raised his hands above his head to show that he meant him no harm. Hopefully he understood his gestures to be peaceful ones and didn't feel threatened by them.

Emli had to be very careful, things could easily end up badly. Still sitting, with his bizarre and large mole hands raised above his head he yelled his apologies to the man, throwing words out at him because he wasn't entirely sure what he said in the first place. It just sounded scarey.

"I'M ORRY I HAV BAH EAR! I NO HEAR YOU GUH! I'M ORRY!"

(Im sorry I have bad ears. I don't hear good. I'm sorry. xD)

[Loki]

Gibberish. It assaulted his ears, and his mind. The man couldn’t even speak properly in its own tongue. The only thing that saved the man was that he had dropped his belongings, and brought his hands up in what Omi recognized as a barbarian gesture for peace. He considered whether he wanted to let the barbarian live, and decided there would be no honor in killing it. So he slid his blade back into its sheath, though he left his hand resting on the hilt. There would be no honor if the man surprised him with a spell or attack, either.

He didn’t know what the man had said, but that didn’t matter much to Omi. “Get up,” he said, while motioning with his free hand. He had seen a barbarian use the gesture to get another barbarian to stand. Of course, the first barbarian had been stabbed by the second, but that didn’t bother him. So he stood there, one hand on his sword, the other hand with all but his middle finger folded down.

[littlebean]

Emli waited in suspense for the man's reaction to his words. In reality, time probably passed as it normally would, but for Emli it was slowed almost to a grinding halt while he waited to see what kind of results his words would give him. He waited quietly, with his heart racing in his chest. With all the extra time he had to wait, he noticed an overwhelming foul stench about the man that completely assaulted his senses. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it before, but this man smelled like he was rotting. He couldn't see it, but he could smell it. This man was decomposing.

His first time on the surface and he was being harrased by a man who wasn't even alive. By now Emli had gone past being afraid, and instead was absolutely terrified. It was one horror after another for Emli, having just barely escaped his pursuers only to run into a decomposing man who wanted to end his life for apparently no important reason. Communication between the two was minimal. In return for his broken sentences, instead of killing him the man gestured to him to stand up, a command which Emli obeyed immediately, still with his hands up in the air, doing his very best not to fuel the man's anger. His life depended on it.

"YEFFIR!" He yelled while he stood.

(Sorry the post is so short. He's saying Yessir xD)

[Loki]

So, the barbarian was capable of at least some basic intelligence. He had followed the Jiang Shi’s order, and stood. That would save his life, again. Omi wanted to kill him; he wanted to be done with the foul beast, but he could not. That would besmirch his honor, and he needed that intact. The barbarians could not provoke him to action, not even by their bumbling lack of etiquette. Omi accepted that the man had saved his own life, and that killing him would prove no benefit save to his emotions. It was time for him to move on.

“Barbarian,” Omi called out, “you will tell me why you travel toward Cizok. It is a land that will offer no welcome to the likes of you!” He was not shouting, but his voice was raised. The man had supplies, and those could be of use to him. He had lost much of his own equipment when the last tremors had hit the city. After shock, they called it, as though the name had any impact on the devastation wreaked. The last wave of the tremors had left him buried beneath the very house he had been living within. He suspected his men were dead, and his supplies lost.

Omi moved toward Emli carefully. He left his hand on his blade, while the other hung loosely at his side. When he was close enough, Omi knelt down and reached out with his free hand for the bag that Emli had dropped. “What is in here?” The undead gestured toward the large bag impatiently.

[littlebean]

As soon as Omi raised his voice his words became more clear to Emli, which was a relief to him. He was too scared to ask him to speak up in case he might kill him, and with that sword still in his hand it didn't seem like the stranger had changed his mind about how he felt about Emli. In his head he asked why and wondered to himself what he had done wrong, and outwardly still he whined and whimpered to himself. By now, his legs were visibly shaking. At least he was still alive, things might be looking up soon.

The man's words confused him though. Firstly he was a bit stumped as to why he called him a barbarian, even though in his life he had definitely been called worse names. Secondly he had no idea what Cizok was, because he had just surfaced and came onto the above world. This chunk of land he was standing on right now, was all that he knew, and thirdly, he didn't give a good God damn if this Cizok thing didn't welcome him, he just wanted to be on his way.

Carefully he thought about his words, because he couldn't speak properly he tried his best to answer the man in simpler words that he could pronounce, hopefully this would work.

" I UNNO WHERE I OH! I UNNO!"

But the little bastard wasn't happy with that at all. Talking was a difficult and frustrating thing for Emli to try to do, and he wished the guy would just fucking can it and let him go. It wasn't enough for him to harass him, but now Emli was pretty sure he was being robbed. Fear was being accompanied by anger. He was going to be very cross if this guy was going to steal from him, but still he would do nothing about it. There'd be nothing he could do in the first place.

So he answered him again, " FOO WA'ER AN FUFF!"

( I dunno where I go. I dunno. Food water and stuff. )

[Loki]

Food and water were useless to Omi. He had no need of them. Perhaps if he had mortals with him, but he didn’t. Weapons, though, could be of use. Money, the currency used by the barbarians, could be of use. He didn’t want to take his hand from his sword in order to open and search the bag. He stepped back and away from Emli and his bag. “Open it, barbarian. Let me see what it is you carry with you.”

Now that he was closer to the man, Omi realized that it was no human he was looking at. No human had ever become so deformed as this creature. It was possible that he would be rewarded if he brought a new type of creature to Cizok. Certainly, it would aid in understanding the post-End world around the nation. yes, Omi thought, I’ll bring him to Cizok. If he dies while we go, so be it. At least my return won’t be a total failure.

“Come, hurry,” he spoke harshly to Emli, and gestured to the bag again. “Open it, and let me see what you possess.” He made sure he was out of weapon’s range, far enough away that he might avoid an attack should Emli possess a hidden weapon.

[littlebean]

What was in Emli's bag would be absolutely nothing of any value to Omi. While he was packing to flee from the nation that wanted to see him hang, weapons weren't really his top priority. In his bag he carried a sleeping bag and pillow, cooking untensils, first aid items like bandages and bizarre medicines , his pickaxe, a small amount of dynamite and food. Even if Omi was alive his food was less than appetizing, consisting of a container full of worms and other bugs, canisters of water and some odd looking mushrooms. They were the necessities. Just enough to get him by until he found the source of that wonderful smell he was looking for.

Cautiously Emli took off his backpack, without looking really at what he was doing and more keeping an eye on Omi. There was still a lot of difficulty understanding what words were coming out of Omi's demanding mouth, but he could smell the interest that Omi had in the contents of his bag. He bent over, still watching Omi and took the materials previously described out of his backpack and laid them out in front. If Omi decided to steal them, so be it, he would rather escape with his life more than his materials. Worms were easy to find and the dirt was just as comfortable. He co-operated with the man and hoped that soon he would be pleased with what he had and leave him alone.

One by one the materials were laid out for Omi and Emli waited expectantly, waiting still for the man to leave him alone.

[Loki]

None of Emli’s possessions seemed valuable to Omi. They were things that even a living man of Cizok would scorn. Insects and worms? They were barely of use, even as food. Still, Emli was the prize that he would bring to Cizok. His possessions did not matter a single bit. “Put it away,” Omi said, “you are coming to Cizok.” To ensure his command was followed, the undead unsheathed his blade fully. He held the katana in both hands, with the tip angling toward Emli.

“Your life belongs to me now, barbarian. Should you disobey any command, your blood will taint the earth. Understand?” Omi was unsure how the barbarians laid claim on each other, but he knew it happened. Slavery, they called it. Well, he didn’t intend on keeping the creature, he only wanted to imprison Emli until he could give it to another.

[littlebean]

"Uh....uh"

Omi wasn't speaking loud enough for Emli to fully understand what he was saying. He stood there, in the same position wondering and struggling to make out certain words. He wished to himself the man would speak in smaller more simple sentences, and he wished even more this man would just go away and leave him be. He would even wish for his death if there was a way to carry it out, but there was nothing.

There was seriously nothing. There was nothing he could do and nothing he could understand of the man's words. Should he raise his voice like he did earlier, it would be much easier. Emli couldn't even communicate with the man to ask him to speak up, and lacked the courage to speak altogether in the first place. It seemed that everytime Emli spoke it only angered the aggresive stranger even more, and he didn't want that at all. From Emli's point of view, this entire event was a long deadly game of charades.

Perhaps, maybe Omi wasn't interested in his things, since after he inspected them he didn't take any of his belongings. He did everything with much hesitance, looking back and forth between the man and his task to see if the man was okay with what he was doing. Bit by bit the things were put away, and the worms were handled carefully in case the container burst and he ended up with a bag full of bugs. The fact that the man put his sword away gave Emli some hope, but he questioned it when he smelled the hostility on the man still.

Again the man spoke and he understood none of it. Was he free to go? He couldn't tell, so instead of speaking he stood there perfectly still waiting for his reaction, some kind of clue to know what he was allowed to do.

[Loki]

The barbarian creature wasn’t moving. It was as if the damned thing couldn’t understand him. Omi couldn’t stand it anymore. Here he was, sitting exposed in the middle of a burning wasteland, because some barbarian couldn’t even understand its own language. His anger flared up and he embraced it. One moment the undead had been standing calmly, the next he lunged for Emli. He moved faster than any mortal human should, let alone a partially rotted undead.

He shouted as he moved, the words incomprehensible even to himself. It was a moment of rage that ended as quickly as it had begun. Before he even reached Emli, Omi stopped himself. He could feel his body shaking with the urge to kill the barbarian. That wouldn’t do, though. The people of Cizok wouldn’t lose themselves like that. He shouldn’t let that happen, it wouldn’t do him any good. Instead of attacking Emli as he had intended, Omi shouted at him again, “GET MOVING BARBARIAN,” he pointed in the direction of Cizok as he shouted. Omi hoped the barbarian would ignore the order, so that he would be justified in killing it.