genessia | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

WHO: Cassian and Sanzo in one, Cassian and Amberdrake in another
WHAT: DINNER TIME and A brief material run
WHEN: Shortly after Christmas, before the shops in Fayren close.
WHERE: Everglade and Fayren
WARNINGS: Gore, violence, mentions of cannibalism

4 SANZO
He'd gone too long. He knew he'd over extended himself, the gift he got from Tannusen could only last so long. Wheezing, stiff, the faint sound of flutes beginning to sound in the back of his mind, tonight had to be the night. He wasn't going to risk it all again, he couldn't. He couldn't keep relying on someone else here to patch him up every time he fell into shit.

He was a grown man. He could take care of this.

As it had been for two thousand years, the hunt was on. As it had been for two thousand years, the iron dagger found its mark, the husk soulless yes, but oh how they screamed like any real living thing would. Once, perhaps, he would have shrunk away from the sound. A long time ago, he'd be frantic to silence them, clumsily slashing at vocal cords and sobbing in fear and horror-

He knew how to work now, and the screaming was quickly silenced to pathetic, wet gurgling as the cloaked man snapped ribs with ease, feeling the rippling sensation of that thing pulsing in the back of his head, feeding his meager strength. Peeling the membrane off the heart. Sinking his teeth in and silencing the husk forever.

Blood everywhere. It stank of it, but the pain in his body and his lungs faded with every bite, even if it couldn't fully sate the beast. Just another bandaid.

But for now, it would do.
4 Amberdrake

Of course, Everglade wouldn't have the materials he needed. No one would stock in the type of silver he required, and he didn't even ask any shops there. Seemed like a good way to get a lot of unwanted attention. So, wrapped up in fleece and wool, cranky and miserable and cold, headed for Fayren.

They'd have what he needed, or at least part of it. He could always return home and finish blessing it all later. He had some energy in his step now, so the little man was going to be quite the obnoxious terror in Fayren, picky and fussy with everything he picked up, viciously haggling every single object down.

"I'll only be takin' pure silver, and not anything else. I don't want any steel or nickle in any of this- What else is in this mirror? Oi! Tis a real question, does it look like I'm foolin' with ye?"

Yeah. Not a good day for Fayren.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You have talking frogs?" Well, that was a new one even to Drake!

"Aye. Enchanted the frog pond one day by accident." This bell would do. He's getting it.

"All of 'em started up croakin' English and their spawn have carried on ever since."

"That's quite the accident," Amberdrake sounded impressed, eyebrows raising again. "Are you a mage of some sort?"

"I suppose you could say it's a hobby." One he was stupidly good at. Inspecting some stray pieces of silverware now, knocking a few of them on the table and scratching at the surface with a thumbnail.

"I'm a priest by trade."

Of course he was a priest. Of course. Amberdrake wasn't even surprised, honestly.

"Yet you still managed to accidentally modify frogs... carrying on through generations after? That's quite the hobby."

Drake watched Cassian pick at the cutlery, and the math wasn't hard to add up after seeing him pick out that bell. "You're looking for silver?"

"Well it was quite the spell, considerin' it was supposed to be for the cat." So a weird cross of mad scientist and magician. That's always a good combo.

Three forks and a spoon, the knife apparently didn't meet his standards and was left behind.

"Mammals are a bit harder to properly enchant than amphibians, bigger brains and more defenses." As for his shopping list.

"Aye. Ran out. Can't make good enough shot without them."

This day keeps getting better.

Amberdrake tipped his head to one side at the explanation involving a cat, curious. One of the bells in his hair was shifted in the motion, chiming softly.

"Shot?"

Did all other-world priests have guns? Drake was starting to think the answer was 'yes'.

Not that the Star-Eyed's priests wouldn't pack heat too, if guns existed on Amberdrake's world. It wasn't like the Goddess would have a problem with it!

"Aye, buckshot mostly. Lead won't do against unholy beasts, ye have to have blessed silver and nothin' else will do." A cup was snagged now, treated to the same gentle tapping and scratching as the silverware.

"Melt it down and shape it right and ye get what ye need. I've found buckshot tends to get the job done better. Not as good a range as a pistol or a proper assault rifle but..." Cup was getting bought too.

"I'm a bit old fashioned."

Amberdrake actually had a gun on him, hidden away. A tiny revolver, very similar to Sanzo's... and it was a banishing gun, as well, thanks to weeks of the priest's work on it. Just to have that extra punch if he found himself face to face with, say, Kain of Coorhagen again.

"I've become passingly familiar with guns, but they don't exist on my world. What is buckshot?" Surely it wasn't just something for shooting deer; that seemed a bit needlessly specific.

"Ever hear of a frag grenade?" Which was another odd topic to bring up. But this talk of weapons seems to have soothed his ire somewhat, the man bringing his find to the counter for buying.

"Tis... somewhat like that. A shot gun shell, buckshot, works by fragmenting the bullet into pieces, widening the cone of damage, but decreasing the exact range of the bullet. Close enough ye can do some terrible damage to squishy targets. Close enough ye can literally blow a man's face clean off."

Amberdrake hadn't heard of a frag grenade, no, but the following explanation cleared that up. There were magical artifacts that had done similar damage in the War, albeit not by design.

He followed Cassian just enough to stay in conversation range, scritching Garth now instead of merely covering him. The little gold and black puffball had settled down in the dark of Drake's cupped palm, and was drowsing now, tucked up against Red. So cute.

"So you have a gun that fires something like that, and you use silver for the ammunition? I didn't realize you could change out what kind of metal went into a bullet," and he smiled, a bit, "though my understanding of them is rudimentary, at best."

"Tis a bit of a balancing act with the metal. If the bullet is pure silver, it won't do the damage ye need. Not enough silver, and ye get the same problem, see. Just in a different flavor." His items bagged properly, he's actually almost looking cheerful now.

"I take mostly pure silver home and tinker with it a bit so it will survive long enough to hit the target. Humans have used plenty of different material for bullets. For instance, they were once made of lead. Tis where the expression 'fill them full of lead' came from. Now a days, most bullets are steel or some mixture of iron."

Drake didn't like to make it known to strangers that he was packing a gun, as it was meant to be his last line of defense. So he certainly wasn't going to produce one of the few bullets he carried, curious though he was.

"If you need pure silver to work with, I have a few clients who work with those metals who may be able to supply some." Knowing his clients' hobbies and skills came in very handy; Drake did much of his business through barter as it was.

"Aye? Do ye now?" Wasn't that convenient.

"I'd like a sample of it, if it isn't too much trouble for ye. Perhaps a meetin' in a nice cafe somewhere." How quickly his anger had been brushed away when he got to talk about something he liked. He actually sounded cordial, if not pleasant.

"Afternoon, I don't like wanderin' Everglade after hours when I can help it."

Drake repressed a shudder at the name Everglade. Artfully repressed, no less; barely a hint of it made its way through.

"I try to avoid Everglade, though I do have a few clients there." It was quite possible he billed them extra. Hazard pay. "I tend to attract too much trouble in such a place."

Even Fayren was pushing it, sometimes.

"Do you ever go to Attleton?"

"It reminds me of home." How depressing, but there was a warmth in that tone that suggested either he was just used to living in a foggy nightmare land, or he took some enjoyment out of it.

"'Course most folk don't care for it. Tis a ah... niche appeal sort of a place." Bag in hand, he seemed ready to go now. "Ye need a proper escort, tis what ye need. I don't usually like to leave Everglade at all, if I am to be completely honest with ye. I don't enjoy travelin' too much."

"None of these cities remind me of home. Although I've been on four other worlds now, so I'm used to that. On those other worlds, I've had a lot of interaction with hostile undead. Zombies used to flat-out paralyze me at a distance, because I'm an Empath. Vampires... mn, it's been mixed results, but as I said, I tend to attract trouble."

Not unlike having Ukoku fixated on him. The corrupt Sanzo had even said he was ever-so appealing to a predator like him. Not news to Drake, of course. Not after... Kain.

Drake was fine with heading toward the door, though Cassian hadn't said he was wanting to leave, it was clear enough through Empathy and body language alike.

"I didn't catch your name, earlier," if he was going to be hooking Cassian up with supplies from his clients, he ought to know that much.

"They're a bit cut and dry to be exactly like home. Involves a bit of lookin' sometimes, if there's anythin' to be found. I'm lucky, I suppose." The word 'lucky' almost spat like a curse for the briefest moment.

"Empath is it? Curse of an ability. I'd be dead before I dealt with it meself." At least he was honest. "Most empaths I ever knew ended up dead sooner or later. Don't go to Everglade then, tisn't anything I can do what to shield ye from zombies and vampires if that is what ails ye."

He shifts the bags a touch.

"Cassian Lynch, don't bother tackin' on Father unless it's in a church."

Amberdrake chuckled at that, and inclined his head in a small bow. "I can shield, but if I crank them up too high it's like... sensory deprivation. Not pleasant. And leaves me vulnerable in a different way."

Going from being able to track everything around you as it pings your radar to sudden silence... yeah.

"I live with two priests. I'm used to it," Drake opened the shop door and held it open for Cassian. Wasn't he a gentleman? "Whatever level title you want, or don't want, I'll stick to it."

Never mind that he was a King, and used to dealing with titled people all the time back home.

"I do have a part-time bodyguard, I suppose I could just bring him with... but I really prefer to just avoid Everglade as much as I can."

"Then don't do it. I've got legs." There you go, he just essentially admitted he'd walk to wherever your place was. Treasure it. "Doesn't bother me a whit to wander through Everglade, can't feel any of that shite to begin with."

There's a snort from Cassian. "Aye then, do ye? They anythin' like the addle headed git in Genessia City?" Abel had honestly been nice enough to make him dinner and take care of him when he was sick, but the man had clearly neglected his own health too. Ergo; addle headed git. "No brains, just wanders out and does good without thinkin' of their own well bein' like dyin' a saints death in the middle of the woods promises ye life eternal. They ain't like that are they?"

Well, Koumyou could be pretty... amazingly scatter-brained. But that still didn't sound quite like him. Or did it? No, no, not with the life eternal bit at least.

"You'll have to be more specific," Amberdrake chuckled, and produced a business card from inside his feather-patterned robe. The name Sadullos Kestra was engraved above a simple address, and below that was Drake's phone number. He didn't have an assistant yet, to take appointments down for him. There was no one here he could trust with the position.

Well, Sanzo perhaps, but he was soooooo not suited to that job.

Life would be so much easier if there were hertasi here.

Edited 2016-12-29 02:06 (UTC)

Don't mention that guy around Cassian. He's learned that Koumyou is the most annoying human to ever be alive ever and his puns are on par with psychological warfare. They're a Geneva convention violation.

He takes the card and eyes it, before tucking it away in his pocket neatly. "If ye don't know what I speak of then ye don't have that issue, trust me on that one." But hey, this was still the nicest conversation he'd had with someone in a long, long time, and the priest actually held out a hand for one of the first, polite handshakes he's ever had since he got here.

"T'was a pleasure speakin' with ye."

"Same to you, Cassian Lynch," Amberdrake was at least familiar with that gesture, these days, and shook the priest's hand. There was a golden lotus tattoo on his right palm that took up the entire thing, and looked like brush-work filled in with yellow ink. It stood out, but didn't clash, against his dusky skin.

"Call me in a few days, and I should have that sample ready."

In return, in Cassian's palm, ungloved, raised skin could be felt, an old scar in a peculiar shape. He didn't allow it to be seen, just returned the hand to his side.

"Ye can count on it, sir."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only