(OOC) Log post - Asmaria finds Rosette dead
And just her luck that her killer was still around.
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Logging Started: 10-10-2005 7:16:48 PM
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Wood District :: Middleton
People in Middleton live pretty well; everyone seems to be fairly equal in the middle class, and as one wends through the winding streets of Wood District, it's pretty obvious that this place doesn't really seem to have an area that could be considered 'slummy'. Some places are older then others, and maybe a little run down, but this is more from time's inexorable march then any lack of care and disdain.
Which is not to say that Middleton doesn't have it's equivalent of White Trash lurking around here, it's just that they're harder to make out then they are in your average Ohio trailerpark.
The houses here seem to cover all shapes and sizes, and some look a little odd next to each other; great gothic mansions nestle next to small half-buried, environmentally conscious sod-homes, and it's safe enough in this city that children are often seen darting down the streets between them, climbing eaves, picking fruit from trees that don't belong to their families, and generally doing what kids do. It's a nice, safe place. Don't you want to live here, too?
Contents:
Asmaria
Aion
Obvious exits:
The Burrows (B) Out to Promenade (O)
Asmaria:
It's around the time of day that Asmaria usually retreats inside to rest up for the next day, but then, since splitting up with Hamel, she hadn't exactly been following any sort of schedule. At least she'd managed to find someone to do some menial work for, which insured meals of a decent sort. As decent as you could get in a city that was currently occupied and handing off half it's food in payments anyways. But with all of that to take care of, sleeping arrangements were back to the way they were when she first found herself in the dream- anywhere she could find that was comfortable, or someone who'd take less than acceptable payment for lodging. So that would be what she was attempting to do... until rumors that something horrible happened in the Wood District reached her ears.
Normally she'd probably keep to herself. Why go looking for trouble, you know? She was certainly on her own now, and she still had to wait for Rosette to arrive. She wouldn't want to worry her friend for getting into some mess while she was gone. But there was something about this rumor that tugged at the girl, pushed her forward. Was it the empathy of Canary? The thought hadn't really even occurred to the girl to be honest; the last time she even spoke about her god was when Lacus was speaking to her in Golden Hall. That was pretty long ago. But regardless, she knew that this was someplace she needed to get to, and with a hurried jog the young singer makes her way towards the Wood District.
Aion:
Empathy. What a terrible gift to have. How the poor little girl must suffer so, whenever someone is sad. What terrible pain she must feel, whenever she is around someone with the last aching pulses of life. What anguish she must feel... when there is nothing to feel from the lifeless.
Such a sad, sad fate you have, Asmaria Hendrick.
Rumors have formed, facts have been established. At sunset, when the last shards of light were drained from the sky and an empty night began to filter through, the last pieces of life some poor girl clung to crumbled around her. It took place in the Wood District, but the methods and motives are all up to questions and rumors. So Asmaria runs. There is one truth in the lies and fabrication that happens as a story is passed down from person to person. The assailant was a man with white hair, and dark skin (with a hurried jog the young singer makes her way towards the Wood District) and that the victim...
... Was a young blonde girl dressed as a nun of some kind.
There's nothing for Asmaria too feel when she arrives. Nothing. There are things to be seen, however; for example, the body laid across the cold autumn ground, vibrantly dead leaves fallen across the prone form. It makes no difference to most, but to Asmaria, everything should be all too recognizable. Here lies Rosette Christopher, unfortunate lass of 16 and Priestess of Kiwi. Besides her, words written in her own blood. 'The First.' But certainly not the last. There's nothing else though. Nothing save for an eagle perched on the roof of a house some distance away. And a calm, confident voice that drifts through the wind.
"Well, this is unexpected... Songstress of Vegas."
Asmaria:
When Asmaria last saw Rosette, she had mentioned just before they parted that Aion was here. The word was one she had hardly even had the time to learn before she began her dream, but she knew who she spoke of because there wasn't anyone else she would warn her of. So as the rumors grow around her, the uncertainty of what must have happened becomes less and less, and her pace quickens so much that Asmaria finds it difficult to keep her balance.
But even if she's certain, even if that empathy prone to trigger when she worries tells her that things really are /bad/... there's a certain amount of denial in the last few steps she takes after bolting to a stop in the middle of the square.
That can't be Rosette, can it? Is it possible to dream inside of a dream? Didn't she just leave one reality /exactly/ like this situation only to stumble into it again?
"ROSETTE!"
She rushes to the nun's side, but freezes as the familiar voice speaks up. The little girl whirls around to search frantically for it's source. Finding only the bird, she barely manages to muster up a panicked shout. "G-go away!" As if him leaving would make this situation less real, or less familiar. But it has to! She has no idea what death means in a dream-world.
Aion:
This is not a crime of spite or vengence, and if Aion really cared, he would make a point to ensure that Asmaria knew that fact. It's not. But the fact is, it doesn't matter to him what the girl thinks about it right now. In the grand scheme of things now, her place in his plans are rather insignificant. And this she should feel happy for. It means that she doesn't have to worry about the dark-skinned demon coming to take her away.
But... she came to him, this time. However unintentionally. Here she is, and there is the eagle that the forsaken demon affectionately calls 'his'. Eyes glowing in the dying light as it looks down upon Asmaria and the lifeless body of the exorcist. Could it smile, it would.
But a chuckle will have to do.
Orange leaves fall from the tree above Asmaria, floating to earth with a steady decent. Autumn is the season for dying, after all. Asmaria shouldn't be so surprised. "You can't just will me away, Asmaria Hendrick." The voice is like an echo, but it comes from a definitive source - that eagle, watching her calmly. Intently. "I'm sorry you had to see this." He's not, really. But he feels it should be said. Those wings spread, rustle lightly in the wind. "But you should know..."
There is a man in white walking up to Asmaria from behind. Leaning in.
"... everything has to die eventually."
Asmaria:
Forcing herself to look away from the eagle, Asmaria's eyes follow the path of the leaves down to her fallen friend again. And the shock gives way to tears she found herself surprised for holding back until now. She still hadn't even noticed the words in blood on the ground, because the horrible condition of Rosette's wounds almost caused her to be sick. With this much damage... could she...? No, even her song wouldn't be enough help here, even if she had come earlier. "S-s..."
But how like her to convince herself to give up so easily, right?
'I hate when people just /accept/ the difficulties in thier lives'.
Reaching for one of Rosette's hands, a shakey voice beins to sing unsteadily.
/"Star of Bethlehem..."/
Was she ignoring the words Aion was speaking to her?
/"St-star up... high."/
'Right now, you're probably safer with someone else.'
She shouldn't have left with Hamel. She should have gone with Rosette! Even if there wasn't anything she could have done, why didn't she go with her? Quite brave, or stupid, or maybe it's still the denial, but the girl continues to sing.
/"Mir-"/
The voice behind her cuts her off abruptly, and she turns around again, slowly this time. The song however, doesn't seem to be having any effect. A small part of her knew this, but it was worth trying right?
Aion:
She's singing. Mary was singing, too, but that was too soothe his, as she assumed, restless soul. This sad song is sang for an entirely different reason. And so he waits. He is patient. He waits until the inky darkness touches the edges of Asmaria's heart and encircles it, the coldness of realizing the truth. The desperation of reality.
"She's dead, you know."
(St-star up... high.)
"And you can't bring her back. Not even with your song."
The expression on Aion's face as she turns around is grave. No smile nor frown, just a tone of seriousness that washes over him as he crouches to be at eye level with the girl. "How sad." His words are like a finality, a damning seal to the fact that Rosette's dead. "Not even the powers 'granted to you by God' could save her. But it doesn't matter." A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, smug and confident as he raises a hand to pat the light-haired girl on the head, like one might a little child.
"Death doesn't amount for much here."
He stands, slowly; hands in pockets, he walks towards Rosette, looking down at her disdainfully. Any wounds from the previous fight? They might as well not have existed in the first place. "This girl isn't dead because her god still needs her. She's an important piece on the board." He puts his foot on the body, turning it as one might a particularly disgusting piece of roadkill. "She'll be alive within a week."
His gaze turns back to Asmaria, a softer, more amused smile drifting across his features. "Are you sad? Upset? Angry?" His foot is removed from Rosette's corpse, as he walks forward, and leans in to look Asmaria directly in the face. "... do you want to kill me now, Songstress of Vegas?"
Asmaria:
Why was this man here? Why did this demon want to kill Rosette, why did he try to steal Asmaria away in her waking life? What was going on between him and Chrono? What was it he was after? They were questions she never had the chance to ask before. Now that she had the chance, all the choir girl could think to say was one simple summary of them all. "...Why?"
The cruel words stung, even if they were simply meant to point out to her the futility of her situation. Aion may not admit to it, but those weren't just words of comfort, they were carefully calculated to push certain buttons. Buttons Rosette certainly would respond to, but that Asmaria wasn't comfortable with, herself.
"What did she ever... ever do to you that-" Asmaria trails off at the mention of the gods in the game again. The battle for good and evil, wasn't it? She'd stayed out of it all because here was a place where she could have a life again, so long as she stayed out of conflict. Because she knew if she woke up then she'd be... dead? A prisoner? She isn't even sure why she had blacked out then. But she does know that the reason she is here is because one of those gods chose her. It was Canary, just like that girl in Golden Hall was.
Two hands move to push away the foot on top of Rosette, the need to protect even her corpse from this demon overriding the fear Asmaria feels. "Please stop it!" What did he mean she'd be alive in a week? For a moment hope flashes in her eyes, conflicting with all her other emotions. But at the question of how she feels, Asmaria goes silent in confusion. She hesitates, knowing he's just trying to play with her emotions. Sad? More like grief-stricken. Angry? Yes. But did she want to kill him...? She's never ever thought that way in her life before. How could he even think that-- How could he make her think that he thought she would?
Her eyes drift down to Rosette again and she takes a deep breath to mumble something. "Just leave us alone. Please."
Aion:
"... Why?"
Does she... really have to ask?
It's as simple and plain as day. But she's young, isn't she? Young and innocent. A true Apostle. She couldn't see the truth of the world unless it was shown in front of her in a most brutal way. "Because you have been torn from your reality to a world that is a giant gameboard. Because you have been chained down by gods that do not care what you think or feel, merely that you fulfill a certain role. I don't expect you to understand." His smile is pitying. It's reflected in his violet eyes. "As a tool, you have never had to experience the same agony I have." How could she possibly know, when all she needs to do... is sing with a pretty voice?
His hands reach, to press lightly against the sides of Asmaria's face. Fingertips only pushing against her pale flesh. His expression... is so deadly serious. The hands serve as a means to enhance the eyes that stare at her.
"Because I want to be free."
But there's another smile shortly after as he releases his light grip. a smile that squints his eyes shut completely. He rises, straightens and shrugs in such a nonchalant manner that it might seem as though that moment of grim determination never existed. "Rosette Christopher never did a thing to me besides be weak and frail." Besides... ('Since you regained your senses, you haven't fought back once. Why not?' 'Because she would die.') "Besides make Chrono a pitiful shadow of the 'demon' he once was." A battle between good and evil? Yes it is. But this... this has to do with the battle against that battle. "Don't worry yourself over it. It's not as if her death means anything to gods that can just send her soul right back to her body."
She still doesn't understand? ... "Heh." A finger pushes his glasses up the length of his nose, even as he heaves a mocking sigh. "I'd suggest finding an appropriate place to keep her body. Those wounds will heal over time. By the same time she died next week, she'll be back. Her god doesn't want its priestess dying so easily."
His arms spread, as if to display the entirety of the world around them. "Do you see? All this... is meaningless. I hold no value, she holds no value... not even you are of any worth than another piece to move along the board." The Sinner turns his back, looking up to the sky. Looking up to the gods. "I only killed her... to make a point. She's the first of many. The first of the strike against heaven." He looks back to Asmaria, and a smile that splits his lips and reveals the fangs beneath touches his expression. "This time, you will be in the audience, Songstress of Vegas. I don't have anymore use for you."
Asmaria:
All this time Asmaria had been focused on both what little she could try to do for Rosette, and grieving for her lost friend. But beneath that sorrow and the fear that she felt, was a growing frustration. Was it a part of who she was, or perhaps something she picked up from her friend? It probably didn't matter, but the more Aion speaks, the more upset Asmaria becomes.
"I- I didn't mind it here, because at least I could be with my friends! That's something you took from us! I--!" She loses her rant as she finds her face suddenly in the demon's grip. Free? What did he need to be free from? Wide eyes stare back at the serious expression until he lets go again.
But he insults her friends again. Is the only way to get his point across to find the fault in everyone else? "She's not weak! Rosette can do so much... she can do so much without burdening everyone!" Should she really be yelling at him like this? That's probably how Rosette ended up like she did. But somehow that gives Asmaria the strength to keep speaking, knowing that's what she'd do. Though the fact that she's crying while she shouts probably doesn't lend her image any style points like the nun.
"I... I don't understand what you're trying to do but... If it were Rosette doing the same, I know she would find a way to do it without hurting others! She's strong enough to do what she believes in without taking it out on someone else!"
He suggests to keep her body safe... Priestess...? And Asmaria turns to look at her friend again, only to finally notice the words written there in her blood this time. That's when his last words hit her, and she realizes that he means there will be more. Her expression turns panicked, knowing she knew other priestesses she had to warn. "But...!"
Aion:
"That's why your wings will never grow large enough for you to fly free." Asmaria's arguements are dismissed with a wave of a dark-skinned hand, his back still turned as those hands both find purchase in his pockets. The eagle flies down, past Asmaria to perch on his shoulder, even as he looks down and closes his eyes. That's why she can't possibly understand. She's far too simple.
He'll not go into a long discussion as to why Rosette is a fool, or weak, or any of the multitude of things she truly is. It's a waste of time for a girl who is so enamored with her. So he just shakes his head, and smiles - despite the fact that Asmaria can't see it, she likely can feel it in the amusement that permeates from him. "This act wasn't about Rosette in the slightest, however. Under other circumstances, I would have left her well enough alone."
Ah, Asmaria. The eagle turns to look at her in a way that is ultimately judgmental, even as the demon gives a relaxing roll of his shoulders. "It's commendable that you've remained naive for this long, even in this world. There are sometimes that things must be accomplished through sacrifice and turmoil. Change is brought through fire... not kind words."
But that's it. He'll allow Asmaria to draw her own conclusions. He walks away, but as he walks... it seems as if he walks up invisible stairs. Just as if to taunt Rosette, the man begins to float, 'walking' up air as his eagle flies up towards the heavens. Towards freedom.
Warn the priests? Certainly do so!
It'll make them all the easier to find.
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Logging Stopped: 10-11-2005 1:57:53 AM
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Logging Started: 10-10-2005 7:16:48 PM
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Wood District :: Middleton
People in Middleton live pretty well; everyone seems to be fairly equal in the middle class, and as one wends through the winding streets of Wood District, it's pretty obvious that this place doesn't really seem to have an area that could be considered 'slummy'. Some places are older then others, and maybe a little run down, but this is more from time's inexorable march then any lack of care and disdain.
Which is not to say that Middleton doesn't have it's equivalent of White Trash lurking around here, it's just that they're harder to make out then they are in your average Ohio trailerpark.
The houses here seem to cover all shapes and sizes, and some look a little odd next to each other; great gothic mansions nestle next to small half-buried, environmentally conscious sod-homes, and it's safe enough in this city that children are often seen darting down the streets between them, climbing eaves, picking fruit from trees that don't belong to their families, and generally doing what kids do. It's a nice, safe place. Don't you want to live here, too?
Contents:
Asmaria
Aion
Obvious exits:
The Burrows (B) Out to Promenade (O)
Asmaria:
It's around the time of day that Asmaria usually retreats inside to rest up for the next day, but then, since splitting up with Hamel, she hadn't exactly been following any sort of schedule. At least she'd managed to find someone to do some menial work for, which insured meals of a decent sort. As decent as you could get in a city that was currently occupied and handing off half it's food in payments anyways. But with all of that to take care of, sleeping arrangements were back to the way they were when she first found herself in the dream- anywhere she could find that was comfortable, or someone who'd take less than acceptable payment for lodging. So that would be what she was attempting to do... until rumors that something horrible happened in the Wood District reached her ears.
Normally she'd probably keep to herself. Why go looking for trouble, you know? She was certainly on her own now, and she still had to wait for Rosette to arrive. She wouldn't want to worry her friend for getting into some mess while she was gone. But there was something about this rumor that tugged at the girl, pushed her forward. Was it the empathy of Canary? The thought hadn't really even occurred to the girl to be honest; the last time she even spoke about her god was when Lacus was speaking to her in Golden Hall. That was pretty long ago. But regardless, she knew that this was someplace she needed to get to, and with a hurried jog the young singer makes her way towards the Wood District.
Aion:
Empathy. What a terrible gift to have. How the poor little girl must suffer so, whenever someone is sad. What terrible pain she must feel, whenever she is around someone with the last aching pulses of life. What anguish she must feel... when there is nothing to feel from the lifeless.
Such a sad, sad fate you have, Asmaria Hendrick.
Rumors have formed, facts have been established. At sunset, when the last shards of light were drained from the sky and an empty night began to filter through, the last pieces of life some poor girl clung to crumbled around her. It took place in the Wood District, but the methods and motives are all up to questions and rumors. So Asmaria runs. There is one truth in the lies and fabrication that happens as a story is passed down from person to person. The assailant was a man with white hair, and dark skin (with a hurried jog the young singer makes her way towards the Wood District) and that the victim...
... Was a young blonde girl dressed as a nun of some kind.
There's nothing for Asmaria too feel when she arrives. Nothing. There are things to be seen, however; for example, the body laid across the cold autumn ground, vibrantly dead leaves fallen across the prone form. It makes no difference to most, but to Asmaria, everything should be all too recognizable. Here lies Rosette Christopher, unfortunate lass of 16 and Priestess of Kiwi. Besides her, words written in her own blood. 'The First.' But certainly not the last. There's nothing else though. Nothing save for an eagle perched on the roof of a house some distance away. And a calm, confident voice that drifts through the wind.
"Well, this is unexpected... Songstress of Vegas."
Asmaria:
When Asmaria last saw Rosette, she had mentioned just before they parted that Aion was here. The word was one she had hardly even had the time to learn before she began her dream, but she knew who she spoke of because there wasn't anyone else she would warn her of. So as the rumors grow around her, the uncertainty of what must have happened becomes less and less, and her pace quickens so much that Asmaria finds it difficult to keep her balance.
But even if she's certain, even if that empathy prone to trigger when she worries tells her that things really are /bad/... there's a certain amount of denial in the last few steps she takes after bolting to a stop in the middle of the square.
That can't be Rosette, can it? Is it possible to dream inside of a dream? Didn't she just leave one reality /exactly/ like this situation only to stumble into it again?
"ROSETTE!"
She rushes to the nun's side, but freezes as the familiar voice speaks up. The little girl whirls around to search frantically for it's source. Finding only the bird, she barely manages to muster up a panicked shout. "G-go away!" As if him leaving would make this situation less real, or less familiar. But it has to! She has no idea what death means in a dream-world.
Aion:
This is not a crime of spite or vengence, and if Aion really cared, he would make a point to ensure that Asmaria knew that fact. It's not. But the fact is, it doesn't matter to him what the girl thinks about it right now. In the grand scheme of things now, her place in his plans are rather insignificant. And this she should feel happy for. It means that she doesn't have to worry about the dark-skinned demon coming to take her away.
But... she came to him, this time. However unintentionally. Here she is, and there is the eagle that the forsaken demon affectionately calls 'his'. Eyes glowing in the dying light as it looks down upon Asmaria and the lifeless body of the exorcist. Could it smile, it would.
But a chuckle will have to do.
Orange leaves fall from the tree above Asmaria, floating to earth with a steady decent. Autumn is the season for dying, after all. Asmaria shouldn't be so surprised. "You can't just will me away, Asmaria Hendrick." The voice is like an echo, but it comes from a definitive source - that eagle, watching her calmly. Intently. "I'm sorry you had to see this." He's not, really. But he feels it should be said. Those wings spread, rustle lightly in the wind. "But you should know..."
There is a man in white walking up to Asmaria from behind. Leaning in.
"... everything has to die eventually."
Asmaria:
Forcing herself to look away from the eagle, Asmaria's eyes follow the path of the leaves down to her fallen friend again. And the shock gives way to tears she found herself surprised for holding back until now. She still hadn't even noticed the words in blood on the ground, because the horrible condition of Rosette's wounds almost caused her to be sick. With this much damage... could she...? No, even her song wouldn't be enough help here, even if she had come earlier. "S-s..."
But how like her to convince herself to give up so easily, right?
'I hate when people just /accept/ the difficulties in thier lives'.
Reaching for one of Rosette's hands, a shakey voice beins to sing unsteadily.
/"Star of Bethlehem..."/
Was she ignoring the words Aion was speaking to her?
/"St-star up... high."/
'Right now, you're probably safer with someone else.'
She shouldn't have left with Hamel. She should have gone with Rosette! Even if there wasn't anything she could have done, why didn't she go with her? Quite brave, or stupid, or maybe it's still the denial, but the girl continues to sing.
/"Mir-"/
The voice behind her cuts her off abruptly, and she turns around again, slowly this time. The song however, doesn't seem to be having any effect. A small part of her knew this, but it was worth trying right?
Aion:
She's singing. Mary was singing, too, but that was too soothe his, as she assumed, restless soul. This sad song is sang for an entirely different reason. And so he waits. He is patient. He waits until the inky darkness touches the edges of Asmaria's heart and encircles it, the coldness of realizing the truth. The desperation of reality.
"She's dead, you know."
(St-star up... high.)
"And you can't bring her back. Not even with your song."
The expression on Aion's face as she turns around is grave. No smile nor frown, just a tone of seriousness that washes over him as he crouches to be at eye level with the girl. "How sad." His words are like a finality, a damning seal to the fact that Rosette's dead. "Not even the powers 'granted to you by God' could save her. But it doesn't matter." A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, smug and confident as he raises a hand to pat the light-haired girl on the head, like one might a little child.
"Death doesn't amount for much here."
He stands, slowly; hands in pockets, he walks towards Rosette, looking down at her disdainfully. Any wounds from the previous fight? They might as well not have existed in the first place. "This girl isn't dead because her god still needs her. She's an important piece on the board." He puts his foot on the body, turning it as one might a particularly disgusting piece of roadkill. "She'll be alive within a week."
His gaze turns back to Asmaria, a softer, more amused smile drifting across his features. "Are you sad? Upset? Angry?" His foot is removed from Rosette's corpse, as he walks forward, and leans in to look Asmaria directly in the face. "... do you want to kill me now, Songstress of Vegas?"
Asmaria:
Why was this man here? Why did this demon want to kill Rosette, why did he try to steal Asmaria away in her waking life? What was going on between him and Chrono? What was it he was after? They were questions she never had the chance to ask before. Now that she had the chance, all the choir girl could think to say was one simple summary of them all. "...Why?"
The cruel words stung, even if they were simply meant to point out to her the futility of her situation. Aion may not admit to it, but those weren't just words of comfort, they were carefully calculated to push certain buttons. Buttons Rosette certainly would respond to, but that Asmaria wasn't comfortable with, herself.
"What did she ever... ever do to you that-" Asmaria trails off at the mention of the gods in the game again. The battle for good and evil, wasn't it? She'd stayed out of it all because here was a place where she could have a life again, so long as she stayed out of conflict. Because she knew if she woke up then she'd be... dead? A prisoner? She isn't even sure why she had blacked out then. But she does know that the reason she is here is because one of those gods chose her. It was Canary, just like that girl in Golden Hall was.
Two hands move to push away the foot on top of Rosette, the need to protect even her corpse from this demon overriding the fear Asmaria feels. "Please stop it!" What did he mean she'd be alive in a week? For a moment hope flashes in her eyes, conflicting with all her other emotions. But at the question of how she feels, Asmaria goes silent in confusion. She hesitates, knowing he's just trying to play with her emotions. Sad? More like grief-stricken. Angry? Yes. But did she want to kill him...? She's never ever thought that way in her life before. How could he even think that-- How could he make her think that he thought she would?
Her eyes drift down to Rosette again and she takes a deep breath to mumble something. "Just leave us alone. Please."
Aion:
"... Why?"
Does she... really have to ask?
It's as simple and plain as day. But she's young, isn't she? Young and innocent. A true Apostle. She couldn't see the truth of the world unless it was shown in front of her in a most brutal way. "Because you have been torn from your reality to a world that is a giant gameboard. Because you have been chained down by gods that do not care what you think or feel, merely that you fulfill a certain role. I don't expect you to understand." His smile is pitying. It's reflected in his violet eyes. "As a tool, you have never had to experience the same agony I have." How could she possibly know, when all she needs to do... is sing with a pretty voice?
His hands reach, to press lightly against the sides of Asmaria's face. Fingertips only pushing against her pale flesh. His expression... is so deadly serious. The hands serve as a means to enhance the eyes that stare at her.
"Because I want to be free."
But there's another smile shortly after as he releases his light grip. a smile that squints his eyes shut completely. He rises, straightens and shrugs in such a nonchalant manner that it might seem as though that moment of grim determination never existed. "Rosette Christopher never did a thing to me besides be weak and frail." Besides... ('Since you regained your senses, you haven't fought back once. Why not?' 'Because she would die.') "Besides make Chrono a pitiful shadow of the 'demon' he once was." A battle between good and evil? Yes it is. But this... this has to do with the battle against that battle. "Don't worry yourself over it. It's not as if her death means anything to gods that can just send her soul right back to her body."
She still doesn't understand? ... "Heh." A finger pushes his glasses up the length of his nose, even as he heaves a mocking sigh. "I'd suggest finding an appropriate place to keep her body. Those wounds will heal over time. By the same time she died next week, she'll be back. Her god doesn't want its priestess dying so easily."
His arms spread, as if to display the entirety of the world around them. "Do you see? All this... is meaningless. I hold no value, she holds no value... not even you are of any worth than another piece to move along the board." The Sinner turns his back, looking up to the sky. Looking up to the gods. "I only killed her... to make a point. She's the first of many. The first of the strike against heaven." He looks back to Asmaria, and a smile that splits his lips and reveals the fangs beneath touches his expression. "This time, you will be in the audience, Songstress of Vegas. I don't have anymore use for you."
Asmaria:
All this time Asmaria had been focused on both what little she could try to do for Rosette, and grieving for her lost friend. But beneath that sorrow and the fear that she felt, was a growing frustration. Was it a part of who she was, or perhaps something she picked up from her friend? It probably didn't matter, but the more Aion speaks, the more upset Asmaria becomes.
"I- I didn't mind it here, because at least I could be with my friends! That's something you took from us! I--!" She loses her rant as she finds her face suddenly in the demon's grip. Free? What did he need to be free from? Wide eyes stare back at the serious expression until he lets go again.
But he insults her friends again. Is the only way to get his point across to find the fault in everyone else? "She's not weak! Rosette can do so much... she can do so much without burdening everyone!" Should she really be yelling at him like this? That's probably how Rosette ended up like she did. But somehow that gives Asmaria the strength to keep speaking, knowing that's what she'd do. Though the fact that she's crying while she shouts probably doesn't lend her image any style points like the nun.
"I... I don't understand what you're trying to do but... If it were Rosette doing the same, I know she would find a way to do it without hurting others! She's strong enough to do what she believes in without taking it out on someone else!"
He suggests to keep her body safe... Priestess...? And Asmaria turns to look at her friend again, only to finally notice the words written there in her blood this time. That's when his last words hit her, and she realizes that he means there will be more. Her expression turns panicked, knowing she knew other priestesses she had to warn. "But...!"
Aion:
"That's why your wings will never grow large enough for you to fly free." Asmaria's arguements are dismissed with a wave of a dark-skinned hand, his back still turned as those hands both find purchase in his pockets. The eagle flies down, past Asmaria to perch on his shoulder, even as he looks down and closes his eyes. That's why she can't possibly understand. She's far too simple.
He'll not go into a long discussion as to why Rosette is a fool, or weak, or any of the multitude of things she truly is. It's a waste of time for a girl who is so enamored with her. So he just shakes his head, and smiles - despite the fact that Asmaria can't see it, she likely can feel it in the amusement that permeates from him. "This act wasn't about Rosette in the slightest, however. Under other circumstances, I would have left her well enough alone."
Ah, Asmaria. The eagle turns to look at her in a way that is ultimately judgmental, even as the demon gives a relaxing roll of his shoulders. "It's commendable that you've remained naive for this long, even in this world. There are sometimes that things must be accomplished through sacrifice and turmoil. Change is brought through fire... not kind words."
But that's it. He'll allow Asmaria to draw her own conclusions. He walks away, but as he walks... it seems as if he walks up invisible stairs. Just as if to taunt Rosette, the man begins to float, 'walking' up air as his eagle flies up towards the heavens. Towards freedom.
Warn the priests? Certainly do so!
It'll make them all the easier to find.
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Logging Stopped: 10-11-2005 1:57:53 AM
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