Descent into Nothing

[Nayt]

Descent into Nothing

((Continued from http://www.xeneth.net/urpc/index.php?topic=2308.msg30802#msg30802this%20thread.))

Notte was generally scared of everything. Perhaps standing in some places could be frightening to him. Loud noises were especially horrifying to him, even more so when he was not expecting them. Cyril had slammed the cupboard door when Notte didn't expect it, causing the little shade to jump in Maladi's arms, and scramble to grab onto the gypsy, particularly to hide himself in his arms and use him as a shield. He'd bury his face in the gypsy's chest while holding onto him as tightly as he could whimpering audibly and shaking twice as much as he had been before. Cyril had really given him a fright . . . though, it wasn't like that was difficult or anything.

Moments later, Baht poked her head in, looking up at the two tall individuals, investigating the source of the noise that made her jump and lose balance--whereupon, Voght had the chance to buck her off of his back. This had been a very disturbing turn of events for her, and she didn't know how to take it. Instead of getting angry, she had actually been concerned and curious--unlike Voght, who stayed by the door.

"MalMa~l?" the small, high pitched voice of the little shade girl arose from the hallway.

[Ramlock]

Cyril nodded to Maladi and left the kitchen, watching the reactions of the small shades curiously. They seemed so human at times, especially when the little female one... Mimicked speech. Perhaps. Then again, their welcoming party had spoken to them as well, and she seemed to be a shade of some sort as well... And Maladi, too, was... Not entirely human any more, it seemed...

"This place is... Not as good as the old Oblivion, even. It makes me wonder, though... Back in Rivenfelde... There were so many shades, the entire city must have... Well..."

Cyril trailed off. His entire home city was gone, he was nearly certain. He'd personally listened to hundreds of people die while the three of them hid. The sheer amount of shades, as well... It was something he hadn't really thought about. He'd had a prospect of a new life here in Oblivion, and didn't expect to see his family again... Now, it was all backwards. Danyr had said Zera was still alive. His mother, his niece... They'd been in Rivenfelde City. They had to be dead...

"Is anything of Utopia left now? Maybe the whole world is gone. Maybe this is all that's left, anywhere..."

Cyril didn't really expect an answer. Maybe that was the truth, though. Utopia was gone. Oblivion was all that was left, and here they were... He wasn't adapting. The environment was killing him. He could feel it, as if his life was just being sucked away by the darkness. Maladi was adapting, and all he might be able to do was help his friend get settled before he went...

[Mandaz]

“Don’t say that” He near whispered, averting his eyes to the shade in his arms. “We can’t give up hope. Just because we don’t know what’s waiting for us doesn’t mean we can give up…” his demeanor had dropped; Maladi said his words but seemed to not even believe them.

The boy coddled the creature in his arms to comfort himself as much as Notte. He could almost feel his fear, and he had every right to be scared, neither of them what was waiting outside that door. And Notte was just a small thing, as frightening as the black world seemed to Maladi, it must have been ten times more terrifying to him. The gypsy pat the small shade’s head to soothe him the best he could before trailing after Cyril out of the kitchen, calling the two other shades to his side. It was time to go.

“We aren’t dead yet” he nodded with a sigh, placing a free hand on the door knob and opening the way towards their next ordeal.

[Ramlock]

Hope? Hope wasn't significant for Cyril. He just didn't hope for things, really. However, he didn't give up, either. He just tried. He did everything he could, never really hoping for a reward, and things just tended to fall into place. Much as here... He didn't expect to survive, but he didn't expect to die, either. They would just happen, depending on the situation...

"We know what's waiting for us. A couple of obstacles, and then Edii. Then he saves the universe, and from there... That's not really important right now. We'll figure that out later."

Cyril would watch over Maladi's shoulder as he opened the door, half-expecting to find their ungrateful opponent and a whole army of others like her. If not... Well, they were lucky. And things might continue that way if they went towards that tower in the midst of town...

[Nayt]

The little shades were quick to keep up, as was the fox. As soon as the door was opened, the fox and Voght both were outside almost simultaneously. It was an instinct deal: their people (with the fox and Voght both presuming that they were the leader of the group, and thusly quarrelling over the title) had to be protected, and if there was something out there, it would get to one of them, first.

But alas, there was nothing. Baht slowly followed Voght and the fox outside once it seemed safe, and had trouble getting down the steps. She had to practically slide down each individual step until she was on the street. This tedious process would have to be avoided in the future, possibly by trying to get someone to pick her up and take her down stairs. Notte was lucky; Maladi was still holding him. Baht looked up to this, furrowed her brow, and pouted out her lower lip. That wasn't fair at all!

Regardless, they had a certain degree of freedom here. While it didn't seem as if the shade-people were after them (yet?), there was still good reason to keep a low profile . . .

[Mandaz]

“Hmm so we started off this way…I guess that means we want to go that way.”

Maladi deduced, looking in all directions for any sort of sign or marking that would give them any sort of clue. It was pretty easy to get turned around in this place. All the buildings looked the same, the same shadows, the same desolation, the same nothing city for miles. It was frustrating to see so much and yet so little, the only logical place was to head towards the tallest building, which was located in what looked to be the center of the city. He tread lightly, afraid that his mere footprints would set off some sort of alert that they were out of the house and very vulnerable once again.

“Well what do you think, Cyril? As good a direction as any.” He nodded, coddling the shade in his arms. “Maybe those two can lead us. I wonder if Edii left a scent they could follow.” He pointed out their canine companions, realizing that they could have been a much more useful resource than they were given credit for.

[Ramlock]

Cyril watched their small companions, particularly Baht, with a look of almost disgust. They were harmless, he was certain, but to see them be so human in mannerisms, when they were such killers by nature... It wasn't really personal, just... Disconcerting...

"If the fox knows the scent and has it... Sure. If not, I'm not really a fan of aimless wandering. I'd rather go straight to the source. Whoever runs this place can spare a few minutes, whether we have to coerce or force them out of him. It's the simplest way. It just makes the most sense. I'm not ready to go out into that blackness again, in any case..."

Turning towards the tower, Cyril made a motion to the two small creatures to proceed that way if they didn't have someplace else in mind, but through any sort of smaller roads. If they really refused to go or lead the way or Maladi objected, he'd reconsider, but Cyril wasn't one to sneak around. At least, not unless he had some sort of information that suggested it. Sure, there was the way their host had tried to kill them, but the tower was their best hope for finding Edii if they had no other lead...

[Nayt]

It wasn't long after the group was outside that the fox had her ears up and tail straight back. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that this was when a fox was alerted. She was staring off down the street, but there were so many intersections that the block oriented city could have contained anything that set her off into a state of alert. Not even Voght seemed to be alerted, though. He glanced over at the fox, silently absconding her with his stare. The fox just didn't seem to care, though. She was concentrating, alert, aware of her surroundings. It was just like the wild--she was an animal of instinct. She certainly could be affectionate towards her humans (as an animal often considered caretaker humans), but no instincts had gone broken.

Without warning, she darted off quickly, dashing across the street and down what appeared to be a small alleyway, laden with bricks instead of concrete. She stopped as soon as she reached it and turned around, staring at Cyril and the others, waiting for them to follow.

Voght stared for a moment, growling--though it was more like grumbling--before he took off, as well. Even Baht started to catch on, but she waited. Something was wrong, and it wouldn't take long for sound to reach the others. The fox, with her larger ears, could hear these sorts of things from very far away, and in a city with such speckled population, hearing anything was means for concern. The sound was indiscernible, but it may as well have been talking. Talking and walking--a pair of it.

[Ramlock]

Cyril would only be a few seconds behind the fox once she moved, perfectly willing to trust the animal's senses over his own. She certainly had a much better idea of what dangers lied. However, before he did, he would reach down, grabbing Baht around the waist and stomach with one hand, picking up the small creature that seemed to have such trouble keeping up with the rest of them...

He trusted Maladi to come as well, not finding it necessary to order his friend around. Once he reached the alley, he would place himself behind the most convenient stack of bricks, waiting for whatever danger the fox had sensed. Setting Baht down, he really wanted to avoid a confrontation if possible, at least until they knew a bit more about what was actually happening...

[Mandaz]

Maladi watched with curious concern as Cyril took it upon himself to carry the feminine shade. His shade. He knew that Cyril wasn’t exactly comfortable with the three beings, a fact that made Maladi’s heart jump once he saw Cyril scoop up Baht. It wasn’t intentional, but for a split second he became very tense, almost aggressive, before shaking off the feeling with rationale. Cyril was his friend, not an enemy; he would never hurt anyone who didn’t intend to cause him harm first. He wasn’t a threat, he was the opposite of a threat. For some reason, however, seeing him handle Baht, even if it was just for a split second, made him blind with a need to protect what was his. Instead of acting upon it, he instead focused his attention on Notte, keeping him calm and safe with him.

He silently trailed behind Cyril, the fox, and Voght, left to ponder the strange feelings he was experiencing. He felt uneasy, on edge, like the shades and the fox, it was disturbing. As far as he knew, there was no danger yet, but just the prospect of it sent his mind racing. And when voices were heard, along with footsteps, he felt his heart skip a beat, pulling the shade in his arms closer to his chest to protect him. Breathing a bit heavier now, he waited for Cyril’s lead, knowing him to be better at this kind of thing than Maladi could ever hope to be. As long as Cyril didn’t move, neither would he, leaving him to strain his ears to hopefully pick up the conversation.

[Nayt]

Baht was extremely surprised once Cyril picked her up, and for a moment, clung to Cyril's wrist and forearm as a means of holding on, so he wouldn't drop her by accident in case something bad happened. Fortunately, he wasn't holding onto her all that tight, so he wasn't causing any pain or discomfort. She was eventually put down, and dizzily stumbled from side to side before falling onto her rear. It had all been a whirl to her, too fast of movements on too regular of a basis, which threw her equilibrium was over.Baht, who remained sitting, was joined by the fox and Voght, who were both content with the distance from the noise.

The first voice they'd hear with discernible words was an accented one, male, remarking: "It's principle, really."

"Principle?" the second asked, also male, and sounded a bit older. "I don't see how you could connect principle with that. There are no principles involved, man."

"Sure there are!"

"Like what?"

"Like what? C'mon, Jean. You're shittin' me. You're tellin' me that if your girlfriend got drunk and punched you in the teeth, you wouldn't--"

"Self defense, maybe.."

"--on principle just pull your piece and--"

"Blow her brains out? No, no, I wouldn't blow some bitch's brains out on principle, even if she did bust my jaw. The farthest principle can go there is maybe busting her eye in. Fucking . . . shooting her in the face--that goes way beyond principle. Who wants to clean up that kind of mess? And, besides, word has it that he's in serious shit right now. That bitch had connections to Kreig. I won't be surprised if he turns up dead tomorrow."

"That's besides the point."

"Misogyny takes a back seat when you know Mr. seven foot four and three hundred and fifty pounds is going to put the fear of God in you."

"I'm just sayin', man. The thought of blowin' 'er brains out would've hit me, too, and would've been pretty damn temptin'."

"He's a dead man, anyways."

"Eh, good riddance. He was a son of a bitch, anyways."

"He should've busted her eye in."

Both voices went silent and the footsteps continued, getting audibly closer, but only to a point. They weren't approaching the alleyways. There came a point when both footsteps, however close they may be, come to a stop--presumably where Cyril and the others had been staying before.

"This the place Achren was talkin' about?" the semi-accented voice asked.

There was a sound of crumpled paper being toyed with, before the middle-aged voice replied, "76 on 89th street. This is it."

The semi-accented one grunted. "So, we givin' them the same treatment as Achren?"

"Beat them to death with shovels? No, she had that coming. Oh, you did check to see if she was dead, right?"

"Oh, uh, er, yeah."

"All right. Anyways, these guys are new here, right? We're supposed to talk to them, get a feel for why they're here. Then maybe beat them to death with shovels, if all they're going to do is get in the way. Didn't you read the statement?"

"I did, but the statement said nothin' about actually killin' anyone. Not that I'm complainin' . . ."

"It said "silence." Bricriu said it himself. I interpret that as kill."

"Bricriu don't talk, man."

Again, there was a brief silence, lasting several seconds, before the middle aged man finally replied: "Touche."

"Well, let's just do this and get back. I need a coffee," the semi-accented younger man said, before a door was opened, and both voices ceased being audible.

[Ramlock]

Cyril breathed out in an annoyed way as he heard the two men talk. These men had killed Achren? How stupid he'd been, to save her, only to have her run off and get killed, while making their lives more difficult... Then, even worse... These were simple men with simple tastes, and unfortunately complex tools. Any time his opponents had a firearm as well, every moment of violence became a matter of gambling with his life, because it could end at any time, before he even realized it...

They had the element of surprise, hypothetically. Cyril was confident in his shooting ability. He had three shots, and there were only two of them, particularly when they weren't aware of him. The third bullet was enough backup... He didn't want to kill them, though. It wasn't necessary... They were useful for information at the moment, and if they went missing, it would make life more difficult for all of them. Rather, he would continue to listen, checking for back exits from the alley. The shades, fox, and Maladi seemed willing to follow him...

[Mandaz]

They were looking for them based off of Achren’s descriptions. But judging on their conversation they had no ties to her, or sympathy for them. Maladi didn’t particularly feel like starting up a fight again either, nor did he want to die anytime soon. They seemed to be well hidden for the most part, it was the house he had instantly become worried about.

“The house.” Maladi mouthed, not daring to stick any words behind it. He just hoped Cyril was good with reading lips, or could at least see him in the thick darkness of this world. “The house. The house. Did we. Leave. Anything. In the house?”

His main concern was being tracked. If they left and scrap of themselves behind, who knows what these strange people could do. If they could filter out their scent from the furniture they laid on, or study Cyril’s blood and find them, there would be no escape.

[Nayt]

There wasn't much for Cyril to listen in on, sadly. Once the two men had entered the house, the most that Cyril and the others were able to here was commotion. Subtle commotion, though. They clearly weren't tearing the place apart, but they were searching. This went on for several minutes. Fortunately, with them inside and Maladi outside, they couldn't hear him when he whispered his concern--a concern which he had every right to have. If they left a trail, there was a good chance that a decent tracker was going to find them.

Not that these two were decent trackers. Or could assume to be, at least. Cyril and Maladi had no real evidence to go on, but, of course, there was no harm in being cautious.

"Empty," the middle aged one could be heard saying, shortly after the door was opened once again.

"Well, the bitch's robe was still there," the semi-accented one remarked, "And blood. How's your sense of smell doin', Peoter?"

"I've had a cold for weeks. You know that."

"Oh, right. Hm. Think we should go get someone?"

"Sure. Let's go. I mean--THEY COULDN'T BE TOO FAR--YOU KNOW, HIDING IN AN ALLEY LISTENING TO US," the middle-aged man announced loudly--not shouting, but speaking loud enough that his voice could be heard over a particularly long distance.

[Ramlock]

Cyril knew he should have burned the house down. It wouldn't have been the first time... Of course, the last time hadn't ended too well, and this one was likely to attract more people and cause more problems. He was brought out of thought by the shade-man's speech...

That... Was a problem. The idea that the shade-men had any increased sense of smell or extra senses hadn't occurred to him, and it apparently wasn't a good idea... It was obvious he knew where they were, now. He'd sacrificed the element of surprise, though. That was perhaps a poor idea... Now they had the choice of what to do... Facing Maladi, he would whisper in an extremely quiet way.

"Run, fight, or talk?"

Cyril's choices were fairly obvious, likely, from the choices he'd made in the past. He would prefer to talk, then run, and fight only if necessary. The ideal for this situation was non-detection, but that was no longer an option...