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

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[venport home]
|he looked so fair|

"Your grand-daughter really doesn't look like her mother, does she? She's still beautiful, but aren't you-"

Rosiel interuppted the woman calmly. "Obiel was not taken advantage of. Aurelius is a special girl." He missed his grandchild's mocking smirk; her face happened to be turned away from the table at the moment. Grandfather still thinks of me as a child. What are the chances, then... She shook the thoughts out of her head and brushed a tendril of her hair back into place. "That's not what this dinner is for, sirs and madams," the eldest Venport said, "I have come to broach the idea of succession. As you all know, I am an old man-" this elicited a round of chuckles from the Board of Directors. Rosiel was barely sixty. "-and I do not desire this corporation to be lead by a group. All respects." Several of the directors looked offended.

"Why is your grand-daughter here, then," asked the same woman who had brought up Aurelius's mother. "This is Venport business."

"This involves her." Aurelius hid her smile behind the curtain of her hair as she stirred caesar dressing into her salad. "Since you're going to have to choose between her and my son, Raziel."

Now one of the younger directors slammed his hands on either side of his prime rib. "I'm out of here. Neither of them has any experience in running a company. One of them- one of them- is eight! And... the other! The other is- This is ridiculous." Most of the directors were stunned; Rosiel only looked saddened. He didn't expect all of them to agree, apparently. Well, Aurelius did. She watched him go, straightening slowly.

"I'll be right back, Grandfather," she said softly, smoothing her black coat and following the man. He went into the bathroom to the left of the grand doors to the outside; she waited a minute before jimmying the lock. For a moment, she waited, a heel pressed against the door in case he tried to get out. Directors from the dinner left the room at a slow trickle, heading upstairs, which meant they were going to discuss.

Now would be the opportunate time. Unnoticed- hopefully so, at any rate- she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. He looked at her from where he stood at the bathroom sink. "Going to seduce me, slut?" One eyebrow tilted a little upwards. "You're proving my point right," he said, a little unnerved when she stood there silently, a tiny smile on her face. Thank heaven for her gift from Ero. He couldn't see the murderous intent in the metal eyes. "Say something." The water still ran into the basin of the sink. That would be good for dramatic impact.

She sashayed over to him, her height allowing her to put one hand on the side of his face. Aure ran her knuckles gently along his cheekbone. "You have such a pretty face. Take a good look at it." Her smile became predatory. His face went slack with fear. "This is the last time you'll see it. Or anything." As he opened his mouth- to scream? She didn't know- she slammed his face into the mirror. Once, twice, three times- with greater savagery than she thought she had. Then, she held his head as his twitching and gurgling slowed until it stopped. Carefully, she left him go. His head dropped into the basin, and the water began to turn pink. He looked so fair, face-down like that, staining the area around his face red. It had probably helped that one of the longer glass shards had pierced his eye.

Carefully, she pulled off the coat and peeked out through the door. No one about, not even a servant. That was good. Still, she was sure to walk slowly and normally back to her room. If she did this right, it might be a day before anyone found that arrogant director.

Once she was back in her room, she lit the fireplace with her coat for tinder. The burning blood and leather smelled horrible, but it was the best way to dispose of this evidence without creating more. She made sure every scrap went up, then cleaned out the still-warm ashes and emptied them out the window. They scattered across the gardens. Quickly, she used her abilities to make the fireplace look as spotless as it had before- at the same time, she used those powers to clean her skin of the blood.

An untracable crime. She smiled. For the first time, she thought this "unattainable" goal of purifying the world was possible.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[venport home]
|naked intentions|

"Hello, Aurelius."

She glanced up at Croatoan, then back at the papers before her. One good thing about having these new eyes, she didn't have to actually look at people to see them. The redheaded god stayed firmly in her sight, even though she still studied the legal documents on the table in front of her.

He shifted uneasily. "You're naked." It was true. Her hair hung wet and tangled down her back. She pursed her lips and made an 'x' next to a line on the document. "I'd... appreciate it if you'd get dressed," he said.

"I'm comfortable," she said flatly, even though she wasn't. It showed in the goosebumps that peppered her fair skin. But then, she was always cold. Calmly, she readjusted the towel across her upper thighs, crossed her ankles, and concentrated on the papers.

"I've come to apologize." That surprised her. She arched an eyebrow, a miniscule movement that seemed to amuse Xavier and his ilk. "You could at least acknowledge me."

"I did." Without that much of a change in emotion, she scribbled her signature on the first form in triplicate. "I just don't need to listen to your apology to know what you want me to do." Aurelius put down the pen and looked up. "You want me to drop what I'm doing and help you with that little issue you're having," she said, with a nod to his decaying arm. "Even though you've tried, on two separate occasions, to kill me."

He leaned forward, put one hand on her desk. Not the decaying one, thankfully. There was no way she'd clear off the black gel that leaked from the swollen gashes in his skin. After all, it could be poisonous. She leaned away from him and lifted her eyebrow another tiny increment. "I'm the reason you exist," he hissed. "Without me, you'd be nothing. You wouldn't even be here."

She didn't answer.

"Can you hear me? Are you sleeping?"

Aurelius stared at him, and barely managed to keep a straight face when he shifted backwards a single step. "I don't believe in gods any more, Croatoan. I reject you, you and all you stand for."

He gaped at her, a horrible look of loss in his eyes. The hand on the table clenched, peeling off the varnish under his nails. "You can't do that," he said. She didn't miss the quiver in his voice. "I created you. I reject you."

"Let me tell you a little secret, Croatoan, darling," she said, drawing out the last two words. Her movements, when she got up, were fluid and followed the path of least resistance to move to stand behind him. She was taller than he, and she draped her thin arms over his shoulders. He flinched when she leaned against him, and her breath- cold, as everything about her- tickled his ear. "I'm not the one who was created here. Without me, or the person I used to be... you would still be a horrendous monster, incapable of existing on your own. So who has the right to reject now?" She stepped away and strode to her closet, pulled on a white dress. "The past is just the past. Get over it, Croatoan."

He stood there, staring at her, as she finished getting dressed, pulled on her boots and jacket, and put her papers into a briefcase. "You can't," he said.

"Maweh is dead. I'm Aurelius."

"You are Maweh."

"Of course."

"Help me!" It was an anguished plea.

She laughed, softly, and looked over her shoulder at him. "Why, Croatoan, are you scared to die? I thought you were a god. Is parthenogenesis so uncommon now?"

"I won't die," he said. "I'll go back to that mutated piece of flesh."

With a shrug, she said, "You lived it before." Aurelius could see the gashes in his arm spreading and oozing. "Do that elsewhere," she told him, and left.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[journal]

[mood]
|date|
Dear Journal...

The downfall of most serial killers is that they confide in something. I understand their plight now, and thusly I will be burning this page after I finish writing this. Or, better yet, I shall simply dissolve it. I would like to see them put this single piece of common printer paper back together at a molecular level... especially after I've dissolved another whole pack on top of it. There is no harm in preparation.

Half of those fools on the board of directors are dead. The rest support me. I might not have to do much more than look innocent and stupid, until Kira and Arafel finish their part of the plan. If I knew what it was, perhaps I would see signs of it already. What I have noticed is that Grandfather is getting sickly. Could this be Kira and Arafel's action?

Croatoan came to me not three hours ago. The body he stole from that girl in the fogged place is dissolving, and he wants me to fix it. Ha! I do not give succor to theives. He may dissolve, and leave me be.

Tomorrow I must go to the asylum in lieu of Grandfather. He feels poorly, as I've mentioned. I have heard that the Gavin patriarch will be there. He might be a valuable ally, once I've obtained control of Venport Industries. There will also be a representative of the Arrikanez...

I begin to suspect trickery more than ever. Or is this a normal way to feel when confronting someone you once loved?

[]

 

[shibrogane]

[roleplay]

[durem asylum]
|the funny farm|

Aurelius, Victor, et al

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[roleplay]

[valinor]
|a warning|

Kallistrae and Aure

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[valinor]
|_|

The third odd thing:

Aurelius woke slowly to a steady, rhythmic clanking and murmured numbers. It stopped at thirty, and then there was a soft sound like ceramics on metal. Then it would begin again. She uncoiled herself from her 'nest' on the couch- who had covered her up with that afghan? When she had fallen asleep there in the couch, reading inheritance law, she had been distinctly uncovered.

No matter. She walked into the kitchen and stared at Megan Eisenheim as she flipped silver coins, thirty of them, onto a blue ceramic plate. "What are you doing," Aurelius said.

"It's Holy Wednesday. Today, Judas accepts his payment for his betrayal of Jesus Christ." With that unclear explanation, she gathered up the coins again and began to shell them out, one at a time.

She frowned. "You don't show the traits of a religious person."

"I haven't eaten ice cream since Lent began." Megan Eisenheim looked at the plate and counted out the coins again. "You shouldn't have rejected Croatoan's plea, Aurelius." Promptly, the blonde looked at Megan, all shock.

"Foolish religious values," she sneered. "When a Roman asks for your coat, give unto him your shirt also. Of course I'd expect this from one such as you."

But there was no reaction. Aure frowned again. "One who is outside the glass house, looking in and wishing to be inside, can't throw stones to get inside," Megan Eisenheim sighed. "You're no fun anymore, Aurie. I wish you would be more like you were as a child."

"I grow up. It's a trait shared by many humans and humanoid species."

"But you're getting boring. Just like you hold the power of life and death over Croatoan, I hold it over you, too." She sighed and started another cycle of counting-dropping-picking-up. "And all those deaths, Aurie. What are you doing?"

She looked at where the table had been dissolved, not one night ago. Thought of the destroyed glass and the experiments that would take months to duplicate. Aure wondered how long it would take to repair all that damage. If the papers heard about her actions, out-of-control as they were...

"Even now, all you think of is how to take over your grandfather's company." Megan stopped shelling out the coins, let them drop to the plate much like they must have dropped into Judas's hands. "I'm not like Judas, even if I try to be. I'm not your truest friend. I can't sacrifice everything to ensure your goal is complete and that you get to return to God's side and rule at his right hand forever. And I'm not like my friends. I can't always find the right path to the best ending for everyone. And you've been dodging consequences for too long. I can't hide you anymore."

"I have to cleanse the world," Aure shouted.

The silence after that declaration was deafening. Megan Eisenheim turned away. "Alright. But you've chosen this path yourself, Aure, so watch every minute of it. Take responsibility for your own actions. I won't do it anymore."

It took a moment for Aure to realize the sun had risen.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[solo roleplay]

[valinor]
|the sweet far thing|

"We ought to tell her. It's only right." Cathay.

"Tell her?! I don't, er... want to see Aurelius cry. That'd be, um, insanity!" Kino.

"That's true. They were very close." Xavier.

"Yes, but aren't you worried-" Li stopped talking when she saw Aure in the doorway to the kitchen. The Chinese woman mumbled something and fled out the door.

"I hope it, ahhh... hits you in the a** on the way, um, out," grumped Kino. Asimov slapped her upside the head, then went promptly back to staring at Aure. Actually, all of them were staring at her. It didn't unsettle her. It just made her more curious to find out what was going on. So she asked, and when everyone just shifted uncomfortably and looked at anything else, she thought to ask again.

"What are you debating over telling me?"

Cathay, uncharacteristically, hedged. "We are still deciding whether we want to tell you or not."

"Yeah, your reaction... hm. Scares us." The brunette Kino looked more afraid than the rest of them, and no wonder. She had strayed into Aure's lab and been on the recieving end of her temper one too many times since she'd arrived. "You're, hm, very tempermental. For a delicate, ah, flower. And... No one else would, huuuhh... tell you. Until, ah..." And she had an irritating way of talking. When Aure ruled the world, or at least as much of it as she could, Kino was dead.

The room fell silent, except for the docile tinktinktink of Kino pouring herself a bowl of cinnamon-coated cheerios, and the dull crunch of Asimov eating a taco. It was too early for such food, and Aure would have said so, except Kino got there first. "Do you know, eh... what those are made of?" Asimov shook her head, and Kino said, with great relish, "You don't want to know." The child looked at the taco for a minute, then put it down and fled.

Xavier took the opportunity to tell Aure the news. "Your grandfather's dead."

She hadn't been expecting that. For some reason she didn't understand, everyone cleared out after glancing at her face. Everyone except Xavier. "Kino was right," she said, in a strangled voice that she didn't have to fake. "No one else would have told me that."

"I'm sorry," he said honestly. A little shyly, he uncrossed his arms and held them out to her. She was shook up enough to take the invitation and walk across the room in order to accept that offer of a hug. Of course Aure had known Rosiel had to die. But she didn't have to like it... and... She sniffed and rubbed her eyes, smeared her mascara across her face. "I can't really say I know how it feels, because I don't really, but I can be sorry, can't I? I mean, you won't be offended by it."

"No," she said. "I'm not offended." It was like a bell ringing through her head, saying: Dead, dead, dead. But he'd died for a cause. Even if she hadn't done this herself, it had been done for her. To benefit her.

So Aure clung to Xavier and cried.

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[roleplay]

[chagall/valinor]
|solve the problem|

Ean and Aure

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[roleplay]

[durem]
|poor unfortunate souls|

Mereneth and Aure

[_]

 

[shibrogane]

[YOUTH QUEST]

|sick world|

The computer screen glowed brightly, black letters etching themselves into the white screen and scrolling endlessly upward. Aure leveled a satisfied glance at it, then looked around at the rest of her new office. Shiny, bright white walls with bold monotone prints; sleek black bookshelves stuffed chock full of books. Then, a note of nature in such a clearly machine-dominated world, her heavy mahogany desk covered with neat stacks of loose paper, a flatscreen computer monitor, a phone, and a set of pens. It was an icon of her grandfather's rule of this company- the only thing she had kept in her rather exacting remake of the executive wing of the headquarters.

It hadn't been so long since the funeral- three or four months, five at the outside. She didn't keep track because she didn't really care; all of her tears had been cried out on Xavier's shoulder that day in the kitchen, and with those sobs went the negative emotion. Her nephew had been practically in tears that day at the graveyard. Kate had been positively hysterical. Only she kept a stoic appearance, because without it people might have seen she was weak and she was too female to ever run the company the way Grandfather had. Though she had been sad, she hadn't needed to be excessively teary- and that looked good for the papers. (Besides that, in all the tabloid pictures her eyes weren't puffy and red. The metal appearance of them already caused enough of a ruckus.)

For a while, it looked like Raziel and, by extension, Kate might be getting ownership of the company after all. The directors all loved her, of course, though for dramatically different reasons- threats, the mysterious deaths of their comrades, or simply a faked personality that showed them exactly what they wanted to see- but it seemed like the bloodline policy would win out over the fact that she was simply more qualified. Didn't they understand that Aure knew exactly where the company needed to go? No, they just wanted to control Venport Industries themselves. Kate didn't have the vision necessary, and her nine-year-old nephew only had enough vision to plan out his SimCities, and even those were terribly run.

Then something strange and impossible happened. Both of the obstacles in her way simply vanished. The papers said they had gone to allow the obviously more capable Aurelius control of the company, but she knew that Kate would never give up her son's legacy. Of course something would have had to happen to them, but she had thought she would be the cause of it. So more tears were shed over the inevitable, and she began to get a little angry at the machinations of the world.

She didn't get too angry though. Angry enough to drive her forward in the acquiring of other companies, so many other companies that people began to whisper about Venport Industries acquiring a monopoly on life itself. Oh, but Aurelius was savvy about what she did- she never bought all of the competition in a field of business, just the most successful ones. She made them offers they couldn't refuse- not always money. Sometimes it was properties, her constantly growing social weight, sometimes something much more personal.

It didn't bother her too much when they wanted those personal things. After all, her body wasn't that important to her. If she wasn't pretty, of course things would be different, but whatever harm was inflicted on her- well, she had a god on her side. The hurt on her would come back to the one who'd caused it. Croatoan simply couldn't help it.

Where was Croatoan? She hadn't seen him since he'd come begging for a body. Well, it was no loss. He could accomplish his purpose inside a body or out, it didn't matter to her. A lot of things didn't matter to her, but not as many as things that did matter.

Like the results of the news searches her computer constantly ran- looking for Kate, for Raziel, and for those two- Kira and Arafel. She hadn't heard from them in ages, and didn't want to risk them reappearing from nowhere and screwing up her entire beautiful plan. It was beautiful. In the expanse of her mind, the multitudinous threads criss-crossed like a spider's web. The things that happened that weren't in her plan she quickly incorporated, just like the bug that flies into the web eventually contributes its life to keeping the web steady and present.

The universe itself seemed to be bending to her will. Convenient disappearances and illnesses, and all she had to do was keep an eye out. She knew, though, that the universe had nothing to do with it. Nor did Fate. It was... herself. Let them think that Aurelius Venport was untouchable. Let them think that she was infallible. Their delusions could only work to her advantage. If they were enemies, they wouldn't go against her for fear of whatever it was that made her so formidable. And if they were allies, they would remember it.

Yes. They should always remember it.

She paused the scrolling words on the computer screen with a keystroke and mouthed the phrase that had caught her eyes (which recorded all she saw, but sometimes she felt the desire to actually look at things). “The devil made me do it,” she said aloud, testing it. That couldn't be true. There was no Devil, not the Satan of Christianity nor the great Enemy of so many other religions. It was just human nature to be disgusting and sick. What could someone like herself do about that?

Only what she was already doing. Aurelius smiled and reactivated the text with another simple tap of the keys. It went back to its steady, monotonous scrolling of news- from Aekea, Durem, any ridiculous quantity of worlds the prototype computer could access. She settled her chin in the palm of one hand and watched it, a satisfied smile on her pretty face. All was right in her world.

 

[shibrogane]

|something|

”I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't control myself any longer.”

Aure made a face and unfolded the letter, peered at the sloppy handwriting. It looked like, if the possessor of such writing were in his right mind, it might have a lovely archaic slant. However, a palsied hand had made the potential beauty... cancerous. She did not like this handwriting at all, it made her feel disgusted. That he could be affected by such a thing was just one more indication of the filth of this world. Well... It didn't prove much more than she had already known. She should have seen this coming, after what he had said. After what had happened.

Once, seeing this writing on anything would have made her heart jump and beat a strange, pagan tattoo against her ribcage. Her stomach would have jumped into her throat, and a feeling of general nausea would have afflicted her- nerves. She had once dared to actually love the man (no, the boy) who had written this, and where had it gotten her? No where. Love- such a useless emotion. Even worse than that was hope, and sorrow. Where could such things take you?

Her heels tapped out a rhythm on the hardwood floors; she ran her neatly trimmed nails against her lower lip. When she had organized her thoughts properly, she rose from the chair (knocking it over with a loud clatter) and threw her arms out.

“I know why hope remained in the bottom of Pandora's box,” she cried out with all her breath. Of course, this was her own home. She no longer lived in Valinor, and could be as loud as she pleased. With a little unpleasant laugh, she narrowed her eyes at her desk. It was pressurized plastic, able to withstand practically anything but the wrath of its owner. Nothing could withstand that, which was exactly why she had picked out this desk. The sleek, black thing was a sign to anyone who entered in her room (no, her suite, because she occupied the rooms that once housed her grandmother and grandfather) in what used to be the Venport mansion that nothing was beyond her power to destroy. Anyone could tell you that the power to destroy was the ultimate power over something.

In a quieter voice this time, she repeated, “I know why hope alone remained in the bottom of Pandora's box.” With a dramatic sweep of her arm, she knocked a wooden box to the floor. Out spilled jewelry- pieces of the estate left to her, relics of her mother who she had never really met. Tangles of silver link, brilliantly sparkling stones, and rings lay on the floor, twinkling in the flickering light of the lamp on Aure's desk.

She smiled sweetly at her reflection in the mirror. Scar exposed, metal eyes glinting, she said to herself, “Do you want to know? Of course you do.” One hand fluttered in the air and fell to her side. “It's because hope is the greatest despair. If you do not hope, you cannot be crushed.” Like she had held such hopes for Ean. He had always been in her dreams. Now, though, she knew that it was never going to amount to anything- not unless she changed who she was at the most fundamental level. Did her physical shell mean so much to him?

Why was she agonizing about this?

That was obvious- at least to her. She had to justify the wasted time, the worthless dreams. If she could do that, she could continue to be his friend. Even if she no longer felt that much for him- after all, that was the deal with Hynerotochromia, wasn't it?- she still wanted his friendship. Since she stood at the top of the world now, she got so lonely sometimes. Normally she could be the microcosm of life, completely self-contained.

Angrily, she threw the letter to the floor and followed it, gasping a little when her head hit the floor. Sure, she was extremely intelligent, perhaps ridiculously so. Sometimes, though, she had to remind herself that she was just a teenager. Hormones got out of control. A few frustrated tears escaped before she took several deep breaths and got back to the job of controlling her rebellious emotions. Aurelius was not an animal; her instincts didn't control her. Now she needed to act like it. There would be time to throw herself onto (much more cushioned) surfaces later, and time to cry and pitch a tantrum where no one would walk in if she started to scream and hit things.

With a sigh, she sat up and knelt. The cherry floor bit at her knees, or was that the chain of the silver crucifix that had separated itself out from the mass of jewelry that had clattered to the floor from the box. As she put the necklaces, rings, and bracelets away, Aure sighed once more and thought about her current melancholy. What was the point of thinking of any of this? It seemed obvious to her that soon enough, the only person she felt she'd ever really held close to her heart would take his own life. Every time she saw him, the depression got worse. It even began to affect Aurelius herself. She dreaded seeing him, just because it always seemed to be just the same. The way pity washed over her like sickening slime- she hated that. The disgust, too- she didn't know how to stop any of it. How could he have let that happen to himself? A prideful girl like herself probably couldn't comprehend emotionally, but intellectually, she knew that there was no reason. Every past for the Illusionary was horrible and frightening. (He doesn't have the corner on the misery market, she thought. Even she didn't, and her past involved such pain that she didn't like to think about it. Actually, she hated to think about it, and so thought of Maweh and her life as little as possible.)

She didn't have to see him, she knew that. Her company had an entire department dedicated to deciding what she did and where she went. If Aurelius decided she never wanted to look at Ean Arrikanez, she didn't have to because no one could make her now. With no parents- and no discernable guardian, although of course she must have one somewhere- she controlled her own life. He and his family could vanish from her life, just like that, if she told the press relations department to keep her from functions involving the Arrikanez. But... she didn't want them- but especially him- to disappear like that.

Weirdly enough, she was getting irritated with all the disappearances. Kira, Arafel, all the other Illusionary, that Lixxie girl, Kate, Raziel, and then Ean. Would they ever stop vanishing? She knew it was the nature of life; Aure was a smart girl, after all. But she hated this nature of life, and if she thought she could change it-

Who was to say she couldn't? After all, she already dreamed of controlling the world and making it pure and white. Hadn't she said as much to Megan Eisenheim, that night as she counted out Judas's payment for betraying that false messiah? I have to make it pure and white. That gave purpose to her entire life so far. Aurelius could trace the striaght line from point A to point B- birth to where she knelt on this floor, in the room that used to be her grandfather's study.

All the jewelry was back in the ornate wooden box, and the lock sealed against intrusion. When it was safely placed back on the desk next to her laptop, Aure bent back down to the floor to pick up the fallen sheets of paper.

”One day, you'll make some straight boy very happy.”

A sigh of disgust, then she folded up the letter from Ean and tucked it away in a locked drawer, where she had kept a box his uncle Erik had given her. For a moment, she contemplated keeping the key. It could be useful for learning legerdemain; she flipped it through her fingers, then back in the opposite direction. She might want the letters back, or the box, someday. Someday when she had a husband- as she would, soon- and children, and could look back on Ean and Hypnerotochromia and laugh with him. If she ever laughed with him. It was just a pseudo-political marriage, to keep her safe from those who would seek to marry her just to control the company. Elizabeth the First had the right idea. Men weren't worth the trouble they caused.

The key had such a lovely design, too. All coppery curlicues with purposeful blackening to make it look aged, obviously designed to be antique in such a way that didn't make sense with the disgustingly modern shape of the desk. It'd be a waste of art to toss this key. It would be-

No. A little bit of that demon, hope, seemed to be stuck in her brain. The only thing to do was remove the temptation from herself. That was the only thing she could think of, for this disgusting lapse in her reason. It was just momentary. When the key was gone, so would these stupid, sentimental thoughts. Then she could return to herself as she wanted to be. As she should be.

She pinched the shining key between her fingers and watched it vanish into nothing more than dust.

The sad thoughts didn't leave. They just got worse.

 

[shibrogane]

|slip.|

“I think that we obviously have the best public relations department. If you give over these responsibilities to that company, we'll-”

Aure sighed. “You'll what? Leave? You forget, I've bought your entire structure. There's nowhere for you to go, even in your wildest dreams.” A soft murmur began from the irritating man's entourage, which she silenced with a steady gaze in their direction. If the eyes unnerved others, why not use them? After all, she wasn't playing this game for paltry companies. She participated in these annoying corporate dances for power. The teenager aimed for the world.

She would get it, too. It seemed destined, with the way things were going. Her competition made just enough to get by, and to keep her virtual monopolies legal. In only six months, she had completely changed the face of Gaia's economy- while things such as the marketplace were unaffected by the takeover, prices of clothing were rising steadily and the value of a gold piece was just as surely declining.

For a moment, one ridiculous and power-fueled moment, Aurelius thought of introducing her own currency. Then it passed, and she laughed to herself. Soon enough she could drop her prices to meet the requirements of the populace. Of course she would, and appear merciful and “related to the common man”. She was assured that this was a good thing by her public relations department- not like she didn't know it already.

“Mister... Lewis, was it?” With a mocking smile- she knew who he was, of course, but he wasn't important to her, not really. Pretending to forget only emphasized that point to him and his entourage. “You represent Queshire Publications, don't you?” He nodded. “Well, they would have been able to keep afloat if their public relations office had been competent. No, your people will be assimilated into the Venport Industries main office...”

He looked relieved- and complacent. Why did he look complacent? She had to fix that- no one could be allowed to knock her off her feet. Ever.

“...If I find them to be worthy.”

The man blanched. She smiled, a soul-sucking expression fully intended to creep the man out. “You can't. It was in the contract that the pr department was to be kept intact!”

“The majority of the public relations would be kept intact,” she corrected him, now irritated. The contract was right in front of her, and beyond that, she had a perfect copy of it stored in her metal eyes. “I think I'll start the various processes and necessary functions of reformations with you. What do you think, Mister Lewis?” Several other members of her board shifted uneasily.

A week later, Lewis was replaced by a young woman by the name of Mhin Song-hee. Aurelius liked her a good deal better- and she lived quite a time longer.

 

[shibrogane]

|insomnia|

“Hello, darling.”

Aure didn't bolt up in bed, although her eyes certainly widened and then activated- rather, she rose quite languorously to look at her guest.

Better known as Ero, Hypnerotochromia was the self-proclaimed Queen of Darkness, who could see into the hearts of those around her. If she chose, she could then use her copious powers to grant their deepest wish- or simply the one that had the greatest ability to make them suffer. This she had done for Aurelius in January, trading the girl's vivid green eyes for metal ones because she loved the color so much. Aurelius argued that she had been coerced and tricked into it- which surely meant she did, because otherwise the girl would never admit to such a thing- by the appearance of a specter of her elder sister. For this visit, though, she didn't appear as the dilapidated walking corpse of her former visits. Nor did she look like a double of Kieve's corpse, or as the black-haired beauty who had so tormented a woman at the christmas party.

Today, or rather tonight as it was pitch black in the room save for eerie golden lights, she wore the body of a woman about teenage with long, golden-blond hair. Her eyes looked especially strange, because last time Aurelius had seen them, they had been in her own head. Strangely enough, they appeared to have darkened some. The woman's clothes were blacker than night, and in fact the golden sparks didn't seem to want to go anywhere near her. When they did, they were drained of energy and fell to the floor with a soft sizzle, like stars falling.

With a jolt, Aure realized they were stars. Not the stars in the sky, which represented worlds and which her guest almost certainly had no power over, but souls. Stars. Even one as emotionally paralyzed as Aurelius could feel fear at someone who could snuff out the very fabric of someone's being. “Good evening, Hypnerotochromia.”

“Please, call me Ero. We're good enough friends for it... Aren't we, darling?” There was a dangerous undercurrent here, one she wasn't quite sure she liked. On the whole, she approved of powerful and independent people, provided they could be controlled and used towards her own purposes, like Song-Hee. Convincing others had become one of her special talents in the two years of her life (which assuredly seemed a lot longer, especially at this critical junction of her life).

“You aren't here to exchange pleasantries and inform me to use your nickname instead of your full name.” Both of her eyebrows raised fractions of milimeters and she smirked. Her guest, though seemed unimpressed. Sighing, she got up off the bed and straightened the silky white pajamas. “I prefer sleep to intelligent conversation at this moment, so make it quick,” said Aure, quite rudely, but she had had a long day of dealing with imbeciles and various wastes of saltpeter and water, and wasn't in the mood for games.

Ero stiffened, perhaps feeling insulted. Very good- she should be. For a demigoddess to be shunned by some overeducated, idiot girl... She ground her teeth, though. “Darling, you're really very stupid for how smart you are,” she muttered. Then she ran her hands through the curly golden hair. “Well, it's really simple. I require your aid in a matter concerning my brother.”

“Your brother.”

“You know him, darling, I know you do. His name is Croatoan. He came from your old world-”

She only got that much information out because Aurelius had been too shocked to cut her off. “I'm not unaware of that fact, what I fail to see is how it has a thing to do with me.” Even beyond this, Croatoan had tried to kill her almost three times before realizing his beloved Maweh was never coming back. It wasn't in her nature- had never ever been in her nature, actually, and probably would never be in her nature either- to display mercy to one such as him, and unfortunately not even the request of a demi-goddess could change her mind about it.

Ignoring the stifled outcry from Ero, she continued. “Moreover, I am strictly of the belief that the world will be much better off without a god of Creation, especially Croatoan, banging about in its kitchen, changing things to their pleasure.” She grimaced prettily. “In fact, I would be willing to stake- perhaps not my eyes, but... the dragonfly choker I received from my sister. You know of my sister, of course, Hypnerotochromia.” There was an edge to her voice. Aure was so angry she was ignoring the anger of the other, forgetting the significant difference in 'magical' strength between them.

“So you're an idiot, a selfish little brat. I don't see how you can even dream of curing the world when you're the sickest one.” Suddenly the top of Ero's head appeared to touch the ceiling as she rumbled, “Very well. What I took from you, I now return- I give you back feeling. And to it, I add this- to always see others' flaws. Including your own, darling, so I might stay away from mirrors.”

There was a pause. Nothing seemed to change, at least to Aurelius. But it had, quick as lightning streaking across the sky. “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” recited Ero, though the angry smirk on her face betrayed her belief that it certainly would hurt her victim more. “I'll lift it, darling, when my precious brother has his own body. You have two” she held up two fingers, the ring and pinky “hours.” Then she vanished- not in a flashy way, as she always had before, but quickly down the throat of shadows, which flattened into the ground and disappeared. All that remained of the goddess was a small black egg timer, set for two hours, star cinders, and a white stone floating in a crystal with lacy silver filigree.

She knew it would be useless to try to go back to sleep, Aure did. After that encounter, she was very awake. And even though she didn't believe Ero had done anything but try to scare her, she sat up making provisions for a very long, and very sudden, absence from the company. She appointed her second (Mhin Song-Hee, who had proven a very good lieutenant) and set her keyboard back in place just as the timer made a small ping! sound.

That moment seemed to pause in time for her, one second stretching into thousands upon thousands of hours measured in the slowest fashion, like sand in an hourglass dripping down one tiny grain at a time. Then her world exploded in agony- all the thoughts her bargain with Ero had suppressed, made less poignant ripped into her. Even the decisions she had made seemed to be the choices of another, someone much stronger than herself.

They were fatal weaknesses. Aure knew, even as she knelt on the hardwood floor and heaved up food she hadn't eaten, that she had been right to make those preparations. Her analytical mind couldn't accept this- couldn't straighten itself out enough to even really truly acknowledge it was happening.

So she gave up, and let the waves of sadness overwhelm her.

 

[shibrogane]

[scum]

Filth. There was so much filth. She couldn't possibly ever clean it all, not even if she had seven thousand lifetimes after this one. It would just keep coming back...

She had taken to wandering about in the darkness, shunning daylight and wandering instead in deepest night. Whether she could bear the light or not, Aurelius didn't care to know; the compulsion to hide away from the rest of the world had never surfaced before. What logic she could muster surmised that it must be the effect of Ero's curse, but her concentration would wander before she could figure out anything concrete- like how to reverse it. That was, after all, what she really wanted to know; Murphy's Law earned its paycheck doing overtime on her, always distracting her with some particularly horrible thing she had done at the worst possible times. Absently, she rubbed at a raw patch on her arm (god, so filthy, who knew that emotions could make you feel this sick ever?).

It made her begin to fear herself, just a little bit. After all, Aure was becoming her own worst enemy, so fear made sense. This terror made her think things through a little more, she thought as she sat down on a bench in the park. Though she didn't know it, it was the very same bench upon which she had sat when she had met Akenha, just before she grew to her teenage self. Maybe that explained why her thoughts, burdened with too much reminiscence already, turned towards a more pressing matter.

Who was her guardian? As far as she could extrapolate, she didn't have one. No one she knew seemed to fill that role for her; her first, she couldn't remember. The second had been Obiel and she had died. Third had been Riku, who had also been killed along with Kieve. She had supposed her grandfather filled the role, but he had been dead for almost two months. (Perhaps it was a trend. But no, not everyone she had ever associated with or loved had died. It wasn't worth thinking about or even vaguely entertaining, even though she was.) By now, if she hadn't faded, she had to have found a new guardian...

No one. That made her sad, since knowing her guardian would have at least given her a shoulder to cry on. She sorely needed it, and didn't have an inkling of where to go; all of her Illusionary acquaintances were not close enough to her now for her to trust. And, fool that she was, Aurelius had never really reached out beyond those contacts- yes, there had been Lethe and Rionne, but she had seen them once, maybe twice, before they appeared to vanish without a single trace. Somehow, though, she didn't think she would have run to them to bemoan her fate anyway.

Soft grass rustled under small feet nearby, but she couldn't be bothered to look up. Doubtless it would prove to be just a squirrel, or perhaps a bunny, and it wouldn't be worth her time if she got up to look at another small and cute rodent. Apparently paranoia came with the things she'd given up (quite willingly, and something ) for a pair of metal eyes she didn't even want...

“At least there is no scar,” she said, in a voice rusty from long disuse. The old insecurities had come roaring back, leading her to cover the scar on her forehead with whatever she could.

So filthy, she thought dismally.

In fact, in some bizarre form of mercy, she couldn't even remember the process. For some odd reason, this troubled her, so she began to try to recall what had happened. There was that strange apparition of Kieve, and then... Blackness. Why could she only remember darkness? Surely someone with a mind as agile as hers would be able to retain a few memories...

Preoccupied, she didn't notice the small feet continuing to approach, tentative and then a little more confidently when her head didn't turn to face him. In fact, Aurelius's gaze almost looked unfocused; something about the slackness of the muscles around her eyes and the lack of a habitual crease between her eyebrows suggested it, even though her metal eyes couldn't physically lose focus. Her bench creaked as someone else sat on it, and only then did she take her gaze away from the bark on a nearby birch tree.

The one intruding on her thoughts wasn't an adult, as she had thought. Children usually were drawn to her, yes, it was one of the banes of her existence. But they also tended to know better than to sit next to a strange adult as this young boy was doing. “Why are you here,” she said directly, eyes drifting over the curves of deathly white skin. His hair was pale blond, worn long like hers, and the eyes were a striking shade of violet. A skull nested in his lap, upon which his hands were resting.

He looked to be healthy, at the least, and not the sort of child whom a parent would abandon- that thought almost ruined her attempt to look frightening. Was she--

No.

This child didn't look scared at all. It unnerved her. He shrugged at her question, a delayed response that implied he was in shock. If Aure herself hadn't been so out of her mind, she might have noticed. As it is, she just realized that he wasn't going to tell her. “Do you have anywhere to go?” For a minute, he stared uncomprehendingly, and then he shook his head slowly. (His eyelashes, she noticed, were as pale as his hair, and looked like butter against the bloodless tone of his skin.)

That was okay, she thought. In the first kind action she had taken in months that lacked political or social motivation, she stood up and offered the child her hand. “Stay with me,” she said, surprised at herself. The boy didn't seem at all worried as he reached up and took the offered hand. He even smiled as they walked out of the deserted park together.

Maybe it would be okay, Aure decided. Maybe.

 

[shibrogane]

[baby]

Everything wasn't okay. She wasn't sure anything would ever be okay again. But that was all right, because now she knew what to do.

Ianthe had given her the idea.

Since he didn't speak, at least not to her, she had decided to name him. After all, she couldn't just call him 'boy' all the time- even though this was what she would have done not two (or three, or four, or even five, however long ago it had been that she had been the person she still considered herself) weeks ago. Aurelius had chosen the name Ianthe after staring at the vibrant purple of his eyes for nearly half an hour while listing off names. He had only liked the one name out of all the names she'd listed, so it hadn't been hard. That ordeal of name-choosing wasn't what had given her the idea.

It had been when she walked in on him talking to the bleached skull about life. The 'discussion' had been so very detailed and scientifically detached and she winced to remember it now. For her to talk like that was fine, but for this little boy to so coldly and crudely describe how a human went from birth to death chilled her for a reason she couldn't quite explain. Just a short time ago she would have found joy in such blatant disregard for the conventions of the world. She would have loved Ianthe all the more for having a clear, scientific and uncorrupted view of how things worked. Strangely, though, it made her... worry, a feeling her adopted son Gin (fostered off to a friend of the Dorian's, since he seemed trapped as an infant and she didn't want him anyway) had never caused in her.

She couldn't begrudge him it though, especially after the idea came to her while she agonized over what to do about hearing such a blunt summary.

Instead of finding a body for Croatoan, she could just... create one. And no one said it had to be a biological body, it just had to work. It just had to contain his soul and not disintegrate, right? That had always been the problem before.

So Aurelius settled down to work on the new body, breaking perhaps every promise she had ever made to herself. The ubiquitous bubbling of test concoctions and the soft hissing of the machinery as it whirled and spun calmed her, soothing even as it brought her closer to something that might be her own defeat. She didn't know what he wanted this body for- but she thought it might not bode well for her.

It took months to complete. Even with the double-edged familiarity of the objects in her laboratory space, she still had times when emotion would overwhelm her and she would just sit there against the cabinets and sob. What she was crying about, she never quite knew, but that didn't help the tears stop coming. That, in a bizarre kind of irony, made her angrier at herself, which only made the episodes come more often.

Finally, though, Aurelius finished it. The body she had created- no, engineered, there was nothing natural about the construct that would become Croatoan- fitted his physical appearance as best as she could remember. Red hair, a little bit on the long side she thought, but he could cut it if he liked; warm, tan skin, and brown eyes in a shade she particularly liked.

Not like she had made the body to her preference of his looks. The teenage appearance wasn't deliberate either. Or maybe it was; she didn't feel like thinking about it anymore as she performed tests on the corpse in a manner that suggested she didn't really care. Only Ianthe, standing quietly with his skull in hand in the doorway, seemed curious about what she was doing.

She wasn't sure why that bothered her, but it did.

When Croatoan pushed his way past the boy, Aure's head whipped up to reveal a near-bestial scowl on her face. How dare he lay hands on her boy? It was, she decided, a matter to be discussed later. “Here it is,” she snapped, a curt gesture indicating the body on the gurney. “Do whatever it is you have to do.”

“It's a bit young, isn't it?” His upper lip curled in distaste, but the intended affection of elegance failed. She decided that it was the accelerated decomposition of his face that was doing it. “I certainly don't look like that.”

“My model is that age,” muttered Aure, curling one protective arm around Ianthe's thin shoulders. The boy watched Croatoan silently, in a fashion that she recognized. Perhaps it wouldn't be she who lead the world into a pure new era, but she certainly had a worthy successor in her boy. If only... She wasn't sure what she was wishing for, but she knew that whatever it was she wanted it very badly. Later she could analyze her own actions, once Ero lifted the curse.

The god seemed to sense that it would be bad to push her, and with a wave of his oozing arm sent her out of the room. She could hardly complain, since she did despise him with all of her heart. A little bit of empathy had been regained by this whole ordeal, but it would never be said that Aurelius Venport was kind.

Unless your name was Ianthe, she amended as she sat next to him on the couch and pulled a book out from between the cushions. She opened it, flipping through until she found the appropriate page. This book would not have been her first choice to read to the boy, especially because of the content, but he had seemed entranced by the cover. Originally, she had read to him so he would sleep, but now it was more something she did for herself. The child rested his head against her arm, still cradling the skull in his spider-like hands. Aure cleared her throat and began to read.

"'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.

'I don't much care where--' said Alice.

'Then it doesn't much matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

'—so long as I get somewhere,' Alice added as an explanation.

'Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, 'if you only walk long enough.'..."

She would have gladly continued, but Croatoan entered the room then, looking quite smug in his new body. Resentfully, she tucked the book back into its place as he said, “Alice in Wonderland, Aurelius? I wouldn't have thought.”

Angrily, she began to work up a scathing retort. But her train of thought was interrupted by a sweet, melodic voice.

“My skull's name is Nate,” said Ianthe, holding up the aforementioned bone for Aurelius's inspection. She smiled condescendingly and obligingly looked at Nate while Croatoan slipped out, unnoticed.