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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 11, 2013 23:19:54 GMT -8
Debris and low fog accompanied the wake of the morning. Marine layer was something that never vanished from the old world. Nothing of the old world seemed to vanish, the real old world...earth before humanity. Only gastric changed in atmosphere could do that. But with the insertion of qi...suddenly things were possible.
Anything had become possible.
Tucked away in the ruins of a shore line fortress, was an array of ghostly objects that alluded to life before the bombs. A small building, once a town house was barely standing. Just beyond it lay an old stair case...and beneath that staircase was a woman. Long blonde hair poured messily over her shoulders and down to the ground where it seemingly turned white. Red hues stared blankly ahead as her arm was raised, and slowly but surely blood continued to flow from where she was gnawing at it tediously. She would pause, the blood on her face becoming cold in the morning dew....and she would look up...looking away. Then she would look back to her arm. When no one was in sight...she smirked...then it quickly faded and her stare returned to blank. She looked at the sword next to her. She pulled it into her chest and her eyes stared forward and without much pause, her lips went back to chewing at a new section of her wrist.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Dec 11, 2013 23:50:40 GMT -8
For close to a month now Mathew had been looking for his beloved Bastille. His men tearing up what was now known as Midgard back when it was known as Barker's Territory. Several old bases raided. No sign of her anywhere. She had vanished like a ghost with the dawn. And yet, in the last day reports of someone matching her description reached him. Someone may have found her, but it could not be confirmed. Everything that he had to do that day was put on hold as he rose from his office, grabbing his coat and heading out the door without a word.
By the time Mathew made it to the sight Dawn was starting to rise overhead. The thick fog making it impossible to see terribly far ahead of him. But it would not hinder his progress. He was determined to find her. Like an arrow loosed from the bow he was relentless.
He stood in front of the old stone building. Feeling slight movements from inside. The weight was about right. The footfalls felt the same but different. Perhaps she was wounded? His stone arm punched the wall nearest to him, crumbling area around it to dust to allow him entrance. Fog and dust swirling around him and obscuring his ragged figure.
One arm not quite right, and upon closer examination made of stone. An old tattered jacket modified to help house the new arm. Armor that was once shining gold now dented and shown signs of use, and a tired and worn out man waiting for the dust to settle. Almost afraid to hold out hope that his search was finished.
She was alive. He knew in his heart she would be alive. Until a body was seen he refused to believe anything else. But if this was her remained to be seen until the dust settled.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 11, 2013 23:55:51 GMT -8
A smirk. A wicked smirk that the deepest recesses of her soul could not- had no longer the strength to repress. Then, her face fell and like the knight she jumped up, sword at the ready in the left arm...her right arm bleeding profusely as she took on a defensive stance and waited for the vibrations to come closer. Someone was here, and she knew at this moment- she was the most dangerous thing here...or she was dead. Either way, she stood and upheld the act. The show must go on. Sword pointed, her bare feet trembled. Her boots weren't far but she'd obvious taken them off because like her right arm...for a week she'd been biting into them trying to tell time...
Her res hues scanned the yellow lit fog...waiting for movement to come towards her. She was ready, her brow furrowing into one of dark rage.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:00:26 GMT -8
The figure seemed to leap up and raise a sword in defense and his heart relaxed. It had to be her. He didn't know many people that had swords, and only one that had that stance. She had given him a lesson or two with swords after all. Walking forward without fear through the dust a smirk playing across his lips as excitement sent his blood pumping.
"Finally found you."
He said smugly. Totally like he wasn't worried at all. Which he had been. But it was there way. Affection was not always openly shown. But he knew that Bastille would know that he had been worried. She knew him and how much he cared. That he probably cared far to much.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:04:54 GMT -8
Bastille wouldn't hesitate, she threw the sword at him- like a throwing knife.
"Bloody Fucking Hell, I knew I was still in there- GET AWAY FROM ME, I refuse to listen to your disgusting words- and I KNOW you self absorbed masochistic ignoramus' can hear me--- you will not beat me so fucking pull the plug or I blood damn well will do it."
She said glaring around at the fog. When it didn't respond she just looked anguished, and exhausted....extremely exhausted. Her ankles were shaking from her own body weight.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:07:55 GMT -8
Mathew side stepped the sword, leaning away a bit from the blade as it sailed by. That was... a bit quicker than he had remembered her being. Maybe he was really off his game. Or she was REALLY pissed. Probably the latter.
"Bastille. It's me."
And to prove it he darted forward, slamming a knee right into her gut. No sweet romantic reunion for them. She was freaking the fuck out, he would drag her home if need be. They could tend to her there. But he did not plan to do this out here in the open. Not now.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:11:58 GMT -8
Bastille would ignore him, and thus effectively ignore him coming at her. In one second she was buckling over and collapsing....her eyes wandering the area until they came to rest on the hiding place of her effect. Then she would shudder as if cold, smirking. Her jump suit was torn to ribbons...and all she'd managed to make out with was her sword, her boots...and her smaller items...
oh and her wedding ring, which was affectionately placed inside the toe of her boot. Looking around Bastille, she kept her gaze away from his.
"If you're really him...tell me something even I wouldn't know" she choked, the wind being gone from her lungs. As she regained breathe she continued. "Something that in the deepest recesses of my mind I could not come up with on my own..."
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:19:46 GMT -8
He thought for a moment on that. Something that she didn't know, and wouldn't come up with? Was she afraid her mind was playing tricks on her perhaps? He had to wonder just what had happened to her. He clicked his tongue and shrugged.
"Rai got Hades killed by being a dumb fuck. It was kind of my fault too I suppose. I should have taken the mask from Barker's corpse when I had the chance. John Strike teleported in after I left and killed Hades. When I found out I had the God's of death kill me and I went back to the Underworld to bring him back. He was not meant to die and I couldn't let his murder stand. I found his soul and I had a guaranteed way back. But..."
He trailed off and sighed.
"But he was already fading, he had been there a day. So I gave it to him and I had to find my own way though the afterlife. I almost didn't make it. If it wasn't for Barker I probably would have died doing it, and we escaped together. Because he saved my life I returned his. And so once more Sean Barker draws breath upon this world."
He also held up his stone arm.
"Of course I don't think you saw that when I fought Barker in the war he took an arm before he lost his life."
Though he didn't mention yet that Mathew wasn't the one to kill him.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:23:48 GMT -8
Bastille stared quizzically for a moment, and somewhere inside she was screaming frustration and anger.....but only mildly and soon that voice was asleep again. She winced and then looked at his arm.
"Y.....you lost an arm...." She said thoughtfully. "Because of me" she said quietly.
Sinking to the ground she sighed. "Because I was so bloody stupid" Her breathe quickened and her brows furrowed angrily.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:27:59 GMT -8
"No, I lost an arm because I underestimated my enemy. I lived because of you and the promise I made to you."
He said, reaching down to grab her hands and lift her back up to him. His stone hand moving up to cup her cheek before he leaned in to kiss her lips. Slowly exhaling into the kiss as he relaxed. He had his wife back. Slowly pulling away from the kiss he pressed his forehead against hers.
"There would have been nothing you could have done to prevent what happened. There was nothing nobody could have done."
He said firmly. It was not her fault.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:32:52 GMT -8
Her eyes couldn't look at his, in fact they were racing every which way. The kiss on her end was mechanical...and she just looked hurt, and in disbelief. Her head turned and she took his stone hand into hers and stared at it for a long moment.
"Thats.....something....." She wouldn't finish as she looked him in the eye for the first time, timidly...like a fox who was about to be shot. She'd look around and just bite her lip. "I.....I.....I can't sleep." She said quietly and in an ashamed manner. "too many faces and none at the same time." She would walk past him and go and try to grab her things....still stumbling awkwardly as her waist length hair tumbled messily around her.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:37:47 GMT -8
Mathew was really curious to know what had happened. And the kiss was different. But again, she had been through a lot. He knew he couldn't count on everyone being like him and just shouldering through everything. Truth be told it was hard for him to do it now. He died. He killed Bastille and his girls. He left them to die.
He sighed and turned his back on her, running his good arm through his hair as he shook his head. Reminding himself that it wasn't real. He knew it hadn't been real and that was why he chose to do what he did. But damn it had felt real. He closed his eyes tightly and banished the image of his house crumbling around his family. How coldly he did that. Even if it had been something he had to do.
Taking a deep breath he turned to face her and watched he gather her things. Pressing his lips together before finally speaking up again.
"Do you want some help with that?"
Probably not. But he wanted to ask.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:40:13 GMT -8
"No I've..." she said before stumbling and falling, scraping up her knee and looking beyond ill. She sat up and stared at her knee like it had wronged her...
"Got it.." she finished.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:47:47 GMT -8
Which she clearly didn't. Moving forward he helped her up before helping to gather her things. Starting with her boots and any clothing items. It was only when she was fully dressed and situated that he would pick up her sword and extend it to her. Hilt toward Bastille.
"You're blade, my knight."
He said with a small bow of the head. Partially so he didn't need to look right at her. It made him think about what he did in the underworld.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 12, 2013 0:54:38 GMT -8
She wouldn't bother dressing, the jumpsuit was fine, but she folded everything and stacked it neatly... She couldn't quite put on the boots either. She would look at Mathew and the sword. Taking it silently she placed the make shift hole in her jump suit and then sighed a bit. Feeling a little surreal, the world seemed to come spinning back to her and after a long second she just dropped to the ground, completely passed out.
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