[J] Aurelius's Diary +Illusionist: romantic wishes+

[shibrogane]

[roleplay]

[arrikanez house]
|a bittersweet reunion|

Ean, Aure

[]

 

[shibrogane]

[roleplay]

[a gym somewhere]
|getting to know me better than I ever wanted|

Saga, Aure

[]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[valinor]
|shooting somebody|

Ean...

Aure pressed his head against the reassuringly hard surface of his desk. Home, home in Valinor, he worked undistracted. But hadn't it been nice, to care for someone, to make sure they were alright? To make sure they smiled and were happy? He sighed, exasperated at his own emotion. It didn't matter. He wasn't interested unless he was male and try as he might, Aure couldn't shake a sick feeling of wrongness in every moment he stood in this body. Two months, two god-forsaken months during which he had to endure a sensation of constant nausea in the pit of his stomach and the feeling of fire burning through his bones. Two months, hardly daring to sleep for fear, yes, fear, of Nishin and death. He felt guilty for feeling relief for being home, safe. Among friends, who knew him.

But they didn't, really. He had snuck in through the window just a few moments ago. Lock-picking: a skill he had never learned that he could remember, but came as easily as breathing. It hadn't been easy to get through the window; six feet of teenage boy didn't fit too well through small, drop-framed windows. Especially ones that were a little broken. He tenderly pressed fingers to a cut on his cheekbone, wiping away the droplets of blood that dripped down to his jawline as they fell.

So many thoughts he could have if he'd just wake up enough to have them. But why wake up to make himself miserable?

Aure settled his forehead more snuggly against the desk, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. Instead of the fire racing inside his veins as it had every night for so long, he could feel something like cool water.

Floating. Could Aure remember floating? It had been so long ago that he had last been free of gravity and its constraints. Once- there had been Dean, and that had seemed like floating. Every lost moment came back to him, the life he had thought he had lived in the limbo of the two months he had lost. And also, the memories of the time that had been his past life- Maweh. He mouthed the word in his sleep- Maweh. Mother. It sounded so like it. He remembered Ranis, now. A night with movies- and a night with Dean. As his- lover? A foreign thought, but the more he examined the experience the more he realized that it had happened. And there were other experiences- after a good hunt. A wedding between Dean's brother and his high school sweetheart. A girl named Asimov with brilliant hair.

Mother.

The dream- for yes, it was a dream, he realized this now- solidified into something more than just a blank world that missed all the parts of his world that made life worthwhile. A marble floor spread around his feet, like unwrapping a fragile gift, and spread up into high walls. Wooden shapes became rows of ampitheater benches around him, torches came to life, until he stood in what he recognized as the lecture hall in which he as Maweh had taken the final exam of a chemistry course. That was the day he had been put in charge of the Croatoan project. Bemused- why would his dream take this form? He'd never been here once as Aurelius- he walked down the steps. Around him, people began to be filled in- a soft, ethereal white light and then the colors and forms of their faces. But it wasn't the classmates Maweh had known; these were people Aure knew. There sat Saga, and Ean- his heart nearly jumped out of his chest at that face, studious in concentration upon the matter at hand. And Blackfell, there Tangia- all the people he knew in the world.

He glanced down to see if he were still clothed. The last thing he needed was a nudity dream, after all that had come back to him tonight. That'd be nearly nervous-breakdown material. But he still wore the black shirt and pants he'd been wearing when he sat at his desk; the comfort of this realization brought him to the bottom of the pit. Aure turned on one heel, looked up at the crowded rows of seats. He knew so many people... but only one mattered.

One more spin, a hundred and eighty degrees instead of the full about-face he had previously executed.

"Croatoan," he said.

The redheaded god smiled, a quirk in the facial muscles more than a real expression. "Aurelius. No matter what I do, you still try to defy me." There was a pause, and Aure had the time to reflect upon the intense gray-eyed stare he inflicted upon her. "How... cliche."

He summoned up a hollow smirk. "I am, of course, making my best effort all the time." Another silence; the two tried to stare each other down, neither giving an inch. Finally, Croatoan looked away, a pout on his lips, sullen.

"I don't suppose you would want... this?" The god held up a crystalline vial full of a bloody red liquid. "Since you don't approve of any of my mechinations, I guess you're happy in that body, right? I mean, it's awfully trite, but-"

Aure grabbed the thing, felt cold sharp edges against the scar on his palm. Awareness jolted him into awakeness.

The polygonal vial winked in the rising morning light; he tilted his hand, and rolled it between slender fingers that had never adapted to masculinity like some other parts of his body had. With the nail of his thumb- it needed to be cut, he noted- he broke the wax seal and popped the cork. His first impression of this cure he had been given- he had to trust, he hated this body and even death would be better- was the overwhelming odor of cloves, sage, and burnt offerings. A tilt of his head, a tilt of his hand, and something like fresh water poured down the back of his throat.

This time, no pain, just relief from that nausea.

"A panacea," she marveled, rising from the straight-backed chair. Her own voice, again, still hoarse but female; her features still sharp, but softer, with wider and more feminine eyes.

And a clear head. "Oh, God." She lifted the window and leant out over a wet plasteel street sometime in the forty-fifth century. Rain, pounding on her head with thirteen pounds of air pressure at a constant velocity, a chill she could appreciate. Exactly how far could she balance, hips on the sill, hands in the air?- she knew it without even trying. No more lag between question and answer.

Aure raised her hands over her head into the dark green, blown-glass sky and laughed.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[elsewhere]
|christmas|

Christmas. Where had she been this time last year? Saint Martha's, that's right. Writing all those letters and never sending them. How irrational- if she'd known it would end up like this, she would have sent every one of those letters and more. She sighed and sipped her glass of champagne. It was amazing what you got away with at parties- especially if you had a competently made fake identification card, like she did. Aurelius had made it herself, hadn't bothered to lie or create a new name. Just altered the year of her birth enough to get her access to whatever liquid poison she chose to run through her liver that day. What a great track record of Christmases- one year pining for some random guy she'd met all of twice, the next drinking liquor like it was going out of style.

"If I am not careful, I could become a drunk," she said to herself, and put the glass of champagne down. It was an open bar- a big deal, apparently. Really, she couldn't care less. Alcohol was a great source of distraction, nothing more than that. She smiled to herself- Either I look unintelligent, else I look mysterious. Both are not good -and took a couple of steps down to the groups of cloth-covered tables.

Her reappearance might have raised a couple of eyebrows at Valinor, but not as many as her choice to attend the party. This sort of thing was not really her style at all- but who really pays attention to a pretty girl at a party? No one. She tossed her hair for the effect, and sat down once more in the seat she had been assigned- between Asmadai and a young blond woman with the oddest eyes.

The Italian priest turned to look at her. "Merry Christmas, Aurelius." He was the only resident of Valinor who didn't seem to care where she'd went during her two-month absence, and she respected him for it. But then, who wouldn't respect him? A pious man was rare in today's world, and Asmadai would have been respected on Earth when his religion was at its height of influence. She smiled back at him- easy, it was so easy to make him blush like a schoolchild -and picked up the round glass of ice water.

"To you, as well," she responded. "Pass the biscuits, please?" With a red flush still lingering on his cheeks- really, he was nearly thirty, he should be over a smile from some random girl by now -he handed her a basket full of small loaves of bread. "How is your parish doing, Asmadai?"

He shrugged, ladling a small amount of gravy over a proper portion of turkey. "It's doing rather well. Better than I expected, what with all the pagan religions here. I believe one of my parish members is one of your sort. Black hair, wolf-like eyes? Do you know him?"

She nodded. "Yes. Ranis. His mother is an atheist." Asmadai bobbed his head in time with the music an over-tattooed, over-pierced deejay played some twenty feet away. "I am quite astonished that he attends."

"Don't be," he advised her. "He is one of the most pious children I have yet met." Unspoken over the table lay the miasma of his own sister's suicide. Aurelius's theory was one supported by most of the Valinor residents, that it had something to do with their grandmother's insistence on Catholicism. But none of them said it aloud; let Asmadai believe what he would. The poor man deserved at least that much, for all the mourning he did for Maria.

With Asmadai distracted by the specter of his darling sister, she turned her attentions to the woman next to her. "Aurelius Venport," she said, without preamble, as she held out a slim hand. The woman eyed her for a moment, took a sip of the thick and red substance that was in her glass, then clasped Aurelius's hand delicately. Barely any pressure exerted itself upon the Illusionary's fingers; she had the impression that this girl wasn't quite all there. Politely, she didn't prove her much more powerful physical strength at that moment, preferring instead to look at the strange eyes this woman had. If Aure had looked mysterious earlier, the woman with a delicate grip had it down to an art.

"Bellatrix Ashel," the blond girl said, then nothing more. She settled back into her chair and extricated her fingers. Her hand rested against her lower abdomen, and Bellatrix's eyes drooped slightly. Aurelius opened her mouth to try to strike up a conversation, but fingers against her bare shoulder shifted her attention quite quickly. Her chair was not made to change positions, so she simply twisted her torso to get a better look at the person behind her. It was another man- this party had so many men! His hair was long, wavy and blood red with thick black streaks running through it. His eyes nearly glowed underneath heavy black eyeshadow: a virulent orange, with a pupil that barely seemed to exist. Taller than Aure, but she'd catch up.

"Bella, let us go," he said, sliding fingers under her elbow. "You don't need to be drinking." As the couple walked away, Aurelius lifted both eyebrows quite high. There were very few reasons why one shouldn't drink. Combining Bella's mannerisms with the words and actions of the man who must be her blood relative of some sort, she came to a conclusion, then she smiled a little. She picked up the fork she had put down and continued to eat her meal, as cleanly and politely as any other at the table.

Cathay sat frigidly at Sokoll's left, who sat to the right of Asmadai. "Bellatrix Ashel is pregnant. It is not Astar's child," she told Aurelius. "If it were it would be natural, for they are married. If she were a Norn, then she would have been left on the windswept crags to die. But she is not. She is only very close." The guardian of the House of the Dead stood. An unsettling reddish stain trailed along the hem of her white gown; Aure concluded from that many things, not all of them pleasant, and most of them involving monsters and horrific vengance for some unknown slight ages ago. Eroding belief was just one of her thoughts on the matter, but this was no time to brood over the revenge of an overblown, slightly bitchy remnant of a long-dead race. Aure smoothed the gauzy purple top layer of fabric of her (somewhat scandalously short) dress for what was the thirty-fourth time that evening.

So many people here, from so many places. Here was a petite lady in a tight leather mini-dress and thigh-high boots, speaking to a tall man with long elven ears. Near them stood an older man with a full white beard and meticulously groomed hair, holding hands with a much younger lady who looked enough like him that she might be his daughter. Even Aure shied away from the other options in that pair. A brown-haired woman with curving horns draped in jewelry sat down to eat with a blond woman whose head lacked half the hair it should have had. There was such variety here as there wasn't in her own people.

Though she did have to wonder where the guest list came from.

No matter. She rose gracefully to her feet and looked about the room. If she ignored the large, open space where others her age danced (and she did, but only after careful study) then this actually could be mistaken for a social at someone's work. Irrationally, she felt cramped, and her own shoulders hunched in a small fraction. Logic told her to step outside, and so she did; the night air was chilly, but the cessation of that illogical feeling was worth the goosebumps on her arms.

At any rate, she would need to save her emotions for some of the things she was planning. As if on cue, horrendously tall and silent Kira stepped out of the darkness, shadowed by the laughing Arafel. "Been a while, darling," the snickering one sneered. "Gave us the slip there, but we've found you again."

"I didn't know I was hiding." Aure looked up at the stars- more like, the clouds covering the stars, since the celestial bodies were quite well hidden by thick rainclouds. "Do you have something to say?"

Frowning now, Arafel held out a file folder of papers. "Get a lawyer to look at those," he griped. "Have them completed when next we meet." He vanished, but Kira stood there for a moment longer.

He was almost eight feet- a height Aure couldn't hope to match without dying, or needing to live in a place with copious amounts of anti-gravity. "Yes?" She turned away to spare the muscles of her neck, placed one hand on the doorway to imply that she would soon step back inside, where the two were apparently unwilling to go.

"You look lovely tonight. White makes you look too pale." Kira vanished as well, leaving Aure feeling curiously unsettled.

She pressed her lips together and looked back up at the thick clouds. Yes, and purple made her look much better- what a liar that Kira was. She looked down at the papers in her hands and flipped through it- mostly documents requiring signatures. That interested her, and she settled onto a stone bench to spend a little more time perusing them.

However, her heart wasn't in it. The door to the party creaked open, and she heard a blast of music; she looked up to see a man of average height stepping onto the stone patio. He did nothing to keep her attention, even as he sat next to her on the bench, so she returned her eyes to the legal documents resting on her knees. And she would have stayed like that, but the man just didn't seem to want to move. She shifted a little, trying to tell him he wasn't wanted, but he did nothing except cross his ankles and lean forward a minuscule amount.

"Too crowded in there, right?" She narrowed her eyes at a clause that prevented backing out of the contract. Who did he think he was, talking to her?

She ground it out between clenched teeth: "Well, now it's too crowded out here, I suppose I'll have to go back." The papers, she carefully shut, but her irritation was communicated clearly enough by the speedy way she stood and began to walk away. But his hand caught her elbow and Aure stumbled, turned to face him with an angry retort on her lips.

"Mistletoe," he said simply. True to his word, a nest of mistletoe clung to the roots of the large tree that the bench rested under. "I don't think they'll let you back in until we kiss, nevermind that it's not a hung piece." With the hand that didn't rest on her arm, he pointed out the group gathered around the doors. Aure sent a withering glare to the bouncing, multicolored irritation that had to be Asimov. That little brat probably instigated the entire thing.

She held the papers tightly and looked down her nose at him. It wasn't easy, since he was taller than her (but she would grow, yes). Aure managed, as she always did. "Then let us get it over with."

Perhaps he was a little more intelligent than she gave him credit for. He bent a little at the waist and kissed her on the cheek. "I didn't see it was there until I had already sat down," he said, and Aure was glad that her back was to the audience they had accumulated. "Forgive me?"

"If you remind me who you are," she snapped. Even if he was being kind, she didn't want this to take too long. Gossip would just make her more irritated, and irritation was a waste of time.

He straightened again. "Xavier Lauderdale. Acting navigational officer on the Royal Navy's ship Ampoliros. I know who you are, of course."

Of course. Aure frowned again. "We met when I came back to myself, did we not?" How could she have forgotten? Aure made it a point to never forget anything. Xavier let go of her arm and smiled, walking away quietly.

She stomped her foot, perhaps a little childishly, then followed him inside. This party, she thought as a lady with short black hair and a horrific acid scar congratulated her on her 'conquest', is entirely too long.

Sanctuary happened to be on the second floor of the home in which the affair was held, in the same room as the blond woman Aure had met at dinner and another, with long black hair. "Pardon me," she said, intending to leave Bella and her companion alone.

"No, come in," the dark-haired woman said, stretching out her vowels like a child while he is whining. "I don't believe we've met, Aurelius. I am Hypnerotochromia. But do call me Ero."

Well, anything to get away. She sat down and was silent, allowing an uncomfortable quietude to cast its pall over the gathering. Finally, Ero spoke up. "Your wishes are very interesting. Which one would you like me to grant?"

Aure looked up from a section of beading on her dress. "I intend to fulfill all my wishes myself," she said sharply. Ero hummed something noncommittal. Bella laughed, a slightly hysterical sound.

"I said that to her also," she said through a sudden wellspring of tears. "And look what has happened to me!"

She shifted away from the crying woman and looked at Ero, who had a strange light in her red eyes. "Let us make a deal," the woman said, and it occurred to Aure that she just might be in over her head. "I will give you freedom from that man, who cannot see past your physical shell. In return... you shall give me your pretty eyes. Yes?"

Aure pressed two fingers to her eyelids. "What do you mean?"

A smile, and then: "What I said. I will free you of your emotional bonds to Ean. You will give me that delightful color in your eyes. The world is only black and white to you, anyway."

She grimaced. This was registering... all too well.

Ero stood, and patted Aure's hand. "There, there, darling. You think it over, all right? I will come back to you tomorrow morning, and we will hear all about your choice."

Aure looked up at Bella, who regarded her through a mascara-streaked face that was reddened from heavy weeping.

"Merry Christmas," Ero breathed, then vanished.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[journal]

[mood]
|date|
Dear ******** it. Who does that damn Ero think she is? Like whatever I feel or felt could be broken just like that. And why would I give up my eyes anyway? That's stupid, not to mention irrational. And dumb as a stick.

Again. ******** it. This time it's damn Xavier Lauderdale, "acting navigations officer for the ship Ampoliros". Damn him to the darkest depths of the deepest desert. Now everyone thinks I love some emo drunkard. Nevermind that he seems to be a good man. I don't care. I will be alone until the end of my days, which will only be after the world is perfect, and I am-

I am...

It's funny. I've never thought of what the hell I'm going to do after the world is pure again. When that happens, the only one with the bad personality will be me...

I suppose when I'm done with the world it will also be done with ******** it, and ******** you, Ero, I'm not taking your ******** deal.

[]

 

[shibrogane]

[roleplay]

[keirro's backyard]
|gaian idol|

Ranis, Aure, et al

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[journal]

[date]
|mood|
Dear Journal...

Saw Ranis, nothing much to report. He might be useful someday if he can be convinced to follow me.

I feel anxious about Ero. She should be here soon. I will tell her no, but I don't know if she will argue with me or simply cease with the pretense of agreement and force it, or even just leave. I hope it is the last of the three options because I lack the energy to get rid of her.

This entry is so short. Oh, well. Nothing has been very eventful lately.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[valinor]
|the exchange|

Her thoughts were much clearer now, but still the depths of her own emotions defied comprehension. With her head in her hands, Aure contemplated the decision she would give to Hypnerotochromia. Not for the first time, she wondered if the woman really could do what she had said she could. The hysteria in Bellatrix Ashel's voice at Ero's proposition had not been faked. Even if Ero just liked to ******** with people, she had done something to that woman to cause that sort of histronics... Unless Bella was one of those sorts that just loved drama in all its forms, like herself.

But that cry- "I said that to her also, and look what has happened to me!" -could not be discounted. Only added to the equation and situation at hand. She rubbed her temples. She didn't want to be thinking about this right now. Really she didn't.

Crunch time was coming, though, and Aure didn't have power over the forces of Time. Just over molecules, which didn't seem like much here in bright light where there was nothing to hurt her. She ran a hand through her hair, tangling her fingers into it and tugging a little. The door behind her opened and closed; she began to turn to see the visitor, but Ero was already standing right in front of her.

"So. Shall we make a deal? I'll give you a little something-something in exchange for those pretty eyes." Her lips pursed, and she tilted her head a little to the side. "Tut, tut. No scars, dearie, don't be afraid. It won't hurt you at all. I'll even give you a nice pair of eyes to replace those." Out of a fashionable knit black bag, she lifted two shining metal spheres. A circle was engraved into them where a pupil would be, rather like it was a sculpture's dead eyes. Aure instinctively shied away from the extended hand. "Don't be like that," Ero chided. "They won't hurt you. And remember? No scars. You wouldn't be any... well, different. Except for the pretty eyes, and a couple other lovely little things, but you'll like them. I promise!"

The orbs in Ero's hand were enticing, but she wasn't stupid. Who knew what came with those eyes? As much as her emotions interfered with the processes she instigated, still the eyes might be worse. She began to shake her head slowly, but Ero held up one hand, the empty one.

"Would I really give you something that wouldn't benefit you?"

Aure narrowed her eyes. "I don't have any reference for that substantiation," she said firmly. "Tell me, what did you do to Bella to make her that hysterical?"

"Oh, that," Ero tittered, "She's just a little bit of a drama llama. Really." Though she knew that this woman was avoiding the question, Aure felt her resistance to the thought giving way. She clenched her hands, dug her nails into her palm, and scooted away from the woman. "Don't leave me!" Suddenly, Ero seemed to be a large black shadow-being, not unlike Croatoan in Aure's earliest dreams. "Stay where you are."

She stopped, pressing her heels into the floor. Her heart beat heavily against her rib cage; surely it could be heard all the way down the hallway, where Asmadai stayed when not in Italy or his church? Aure had never been much of one to rely on someone else to save her when she could help it, but now she wanted someone to take this woman away from her- far away. She shut her eyes tightly and tucked her chin into her chest.

A quiet, familiar voice intruded: "Aure, look up?"

"Kieve," Aure whispered, looking up. No, not Kieve- Kieve had never looked like this, withered with a round black hole in her head. Kieve was dead, there was no way for her to be here. She took a deep breath. Croatoan had killed Kieve. She remembered (my daddy shot your mommy and your sissy in the head) quite clearly when she had learned it. What did this crazy b***h know about anything?

Kieve's voice again, out of that sick body. "If you take the deal..." She didn't finish the statement.

She was furious. "Fine, I'll do it," she shouted. "Stop tormenting me!"

Instantly, the dead shape of Kieve snapped back to the indescribable form of Hypnerotochromia. "Excellent," she said, beaming. "Here's the basic idea, okay? I'll take your eyes, give you these and freedom from those emotions you find so troubling, and a few little other things that you'll like."

She grimaced and looked away from Ero, who had reached inside that black knit bag again. Even for the sake of science, she didn't want to know what the insane woman was going to do to her. Besides. This was not science; this was torture. Her teeth ground together at the wait; something she couldn't see popped, and Ero giggled.

"Just hold still. This won't hurt a bit." A little pinprick, a feeling of overwhelming heat, and then Aure's vision faded to black.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[journal]

[date]
|mood|
Dear Journal...

Hey there little Aurelius! It's Ero and I'm just letting you know exactly what you can do with those eyes.

Well, perhaps I won't. I feel a bit contrary today! =D I didn't do anything to your pretty face though, just switched the eyes. (Thanks, they really match my favorite hair color really well! 3nodding )

I'm so happy we came to an agreement! Good luck, sweetie, have lots of fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't do! xd Have fun trying to find anything I wouldn't do.

Love you sweetie,
Ero

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[royal courier ampoliros]
|lucid dreaming|

As she slept, Aure dreamed.

She wore black, all black, such as she never wore in life, and watched something large and cylindrical filled with green liquid bubble. "I know this already," she said. This was moments before Maweh had asked Croatoan to kill her, and moments before he had complied. Aure could even see Maweh's terrified face in the reflective glass of the large tube, in the over-sized metal lines reaching into the base of the cylinder. She sighed, stopped walking, and the scene changed. As if she had stepped through Alice's mirror to wonderland, she stood in front a faceless man, her hands in his.

"Marry me," he said. She felt safe here, where ever here was. This place was a place she knew, even if she couldn't recognize it right now. She also knew that this was a person she could trust with anything.

He smelled familiar: like cloves, sage, and burnt offerings. With a jolt, she remembered the clear vial of thick, slimy liquid Croatoan had given her. It had been her panacea, but the smell here did not make her feel relieved as the change had. He frowned- faceless, unrecognizable, but she could feel the frown- and disintegrated, small polygonal pieces of him breaking off and flying into the wind. Then there was an old man there, where he had stood, smelling of liquor; she reached out, touched his shoulder, and he fell to the ground. Aure knew he was dead and stepped back, into the arms of someone that she knew was the same as the man who had said "Marry me." He spoke to her, said: "No, stay. Please." But something was wrong. She had to go, as fast as she could! Her- the thought was strange- her son- If she didn't, then--

She shook herself free of the arms and tumbled down what must have been a set of stairs. Though it was her hand that scraped along the ground, her eyes took the sudden spike of pain from the floor that shone with wicked spikes. For a reason she didn't understand, she began to brush away the barbs that littered the floor. The second the last one fell away from her (perhaps she was on a platform) the pain in her eyes ceased. What had that been all about?

When she looked up, intending to go on to her unknown destination, she faced a dead end. The way was blocked by a mirror of gray glass, reflecting back brown eyes set in her own face. But the ones she remembered Ero holding were definitely silver, just metal. And the eyes she had been born with were a brilliant green. But when Aure looked again, she didn't see anything; where the mirror she had seen was, there was nothing. Just black, punctuated only by pinpricks of light. And she was cold, so cold.

Space, her mind supplied. She felt so cold because it was absolute zero. If she truly was so cold, she was dead. An irrational terror tugged at her, and Aure returned to that place where she had seen the gray mirror. She ran along an indigo carpet, through a door of cherry wood, and fell-

And then she woke up to a quiet voice reading aloud.

"I am awake," she said, knowing the redundancy of the statement. The voice stopped, and she lay there in silence for a moment. "It is still Christmas?"

"No," the quiet voice said. "It's the twenty-seventh." It challenged her suspension of disbelief that such a short series of dreams had taken such a long time to play out. Whatever Ero had pricked her with must have been very strong. A hand rested on her collarbone, her own hand. It felt foreign, so she shifted it to lay on top of the coverlet. It wasn't hers, but she did not feel like moving. "Aurelius, please open your eyes. We had someone in to look at them, but he didn't know what effect those eyes might have. Or even if they'd work."

She laughed a little, but stopped quickly and pressed her hand to her forehead. "Is it very bright? I have enough of a headache now." A quiet sound that she might have otherwise described as a screech told her the owner of the quiet voice had stood. He might have been sitting at a desk, or else so close to the bed...

"I've turned the lights down," he said. She listened peacefully to him walk back across the floor- what floor in Valinor had wood? Only one or two, both others' rooms. That prospect worried her a little, since she had been in her own room when she had spoken to Ero.

How different the world was! She shut her eyes for a moment, opened them again to the same sight; a darkened room. A face hovered at the end of the bed, strange and inhuman. It faded from view as she watched it, but she stared for a moment longer. "You're looking at something." She turned to look at Xavier. Of course- the same one who had woken her up when she came back from the place she had been while Maweh had had her body. "So you can still see?"

"Of course," Aure said flatly. He was being unclear, and it confused her. Not about his concern; that reason didn't make her wonder her at all. Her confusion centered around why he would think she couldn't see. But she could ponder that later. "Whose room am I in?"

"Mine," he said promptly. "Please don't go getting up, you're not well yet." She frowned. Who was Xavier to decide if she was well yet? She shifted, pushing herself against the wall (it wasn't a headboard) and immediately clutched her head. "I told you." His voice had a slightly patronizing tone; she grimaced at him. It was foolish to expect someone taking her eyes out of her head would be painless. She opened one eye and peeked at him through her fingers. He looked- worried? "You're not in Valinor. I found you here, on Ampoliros."

From what she understood, it was a three-hour ride by train from the Durem instance of Valinor to the dry dock where the Ampoliros was. Had she come all that way with Ero? Questions, perhaps she should find Ero and ask...

No. She'd find out on her own. "Thank you for your kindness, then." Slowly, she swung herself out of the bed and stood. The headache intensified, but Aure didn't want to stay here too long.

"You're very stubborn," Xavier said. He offered her an hand. "Let me help you."

Some feeling she hadn't yet known struck her, but it didn't affect her actions. "I can do it myself," she told him. Stubborn, was she? Yes. Prideful, as well. But sometimes that was a good thing. The naval officer followed her as she left the room- a slow and somewhat difficult walk, as she continually saw things that Xavier seemed to miss. She spent much of her time with one hand pressed to her temple. "Damn you, Ero," she muttered once.

But she walked to the train station on her own.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[journal]

[mood]
|date|
Dear Journal...

Ero did as she promised. I wrote that I would refuse the decision, but she did not play fair. I did not want to see Kieve like that. I know she would be more... dead. But... even just that hole... It made me sick. I thought I could be disgusted by nothing.

Even now, with control over myself, I can feel the urge to vomit at the thought. I am surprised I didn't vomit at the sight of it.

I see things that others do not. I do not understand why. Perhaps it's one of the things that comes with these eyes. I wonder if the effects persist over a screen, such as in a movie?

I had a disturbing dream that lasted two days. But I don't feel it important enough to record, and I have forgotten most of the details anyway.

I awoke today on the RCS Ampoliros, in what is apparently Xavier Lauderdale's cabin. I still don't like him but, perhaps, I respect him now. He treated me like an invalid all the way to the train station- I get new eyes. Not new legs. I walked just fine (but my headache is still killing me).

But that feeling when he extended his hand to me...

Might it have been... destiny? Ha. It looks even more ridiculous on paper than it sounds when I say it.

Destiny. Ha.

[]

 

[shibrogane]

[journal]

[mood]
|date|
Dear Journal...

I noticed something today. My ears, or the strange green attachments to my head that seem to serve as ears, have black marks on them? Actually, I also have some discoloration around the base of my neck. Bella and Astar, from the Christmas party, had similar patterns if my memory serves me well.

The common link between the three of us

Ero?

I shall have to find Bella and ask her, since I don't know much at all about Astar.

[]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[durem]
|whistling down the street|

A small stone went whistling down the street, thrown by a child’s hand. It almost hit her in the face. It would’ve, except on contact it dissolved into its component atoms and splashed harmlessly into the air. Aure only coughed into her hand and glared at the child who had thrown it as she walked sedately by. If only she weren’t jockeying for position at Venport Industries. If only she could get away without the child’s parent recognizing her. She had to settle for a scathing glare and vicious imaginings of the fate the child would have suffered if he had been an orphan.

She began to whistle a soft tune.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[journal]

[mood]
|date|
Dear Journal...

I appear to have accidentally adopted a child. His name, such as I thought was appropriate, is Gin. There is no way he will have my surname, so I looked up an appropriate surname. Ichimaru Gin. I was out in the rain several days ago and I was talking about Pascal's triangle. The powers that be (I'm not so stupid as to disbelieve in them) must have thought I said "Pastel"...

Because I have some water nymph child to care for now.

He has silver hair. Is it a sign that Ero tricked me if my heart (such as it is) twinged a little at the sight of that familiar shade?

[]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[valinor]
|[]|

Chaos made her angry, disconcerted and distracted her. Her own home was controlled perfectly, even the child she had accidentally- if such a thing could be said!- adopted. She looked at Gin out of one corner of her eye, scorn in every line of her body. With a look of studied disinterest, she filed her nails.

"Mommy," Gin said, pawing at her leg. Like she were some kind of scratching post! She scowled at the child and shook him off. "Ginger bread!" His silver hair flopped into one eye and Aurelius roughly pulled it back behind one ear.

"We'll make it later," she snapped.

[_]