RAINING SECONDS

[Demorae]

By then, Diana might've had a cardiac arrest if she hadn't resumed to breathe. She had gripped onto the sink counter in self-defiance. She had been staring at the puddle at her feet, her eyes wide and stricken with terror. She muttered, "Why....? How? How could you love him?" Still unwilling to give in, Diana retaliated insensitively, "After everything we've been through, you not only forgive him or side with him, but you love him?! That son of a bitch has nothing on you, Anaid! The only good he'll do for us is give us the eternal life we lost. His life means nothing to you, nothing to me. His name, his name is a disgrace."

Anaid walked closer to me, but despite my stolid attitude, she didn't shout. "Will. William Knight. If you would just give me a chance to speak, I could-"

"William Knight? How could you have known his name? Above all that is important to our well-being, you chose to remember his name?! Anaid, he is no better to us when he is alive than when he is dead. He believes in the helpless, and sides with the impossibilities. Failure is his fate that will doom him in the near future. That, I am sure, you do not want to follow. A man who willingly abandoned his family at this time above all else. A man who gave up everything, just to prove himself worthy of being a rebel. If he hadn't left his parents, he would have no part in this war. He would live the life of safty and tranquility. But instead, he sacraficed peace, just to go out and hunt for trouble, to pick a fight with Garrard. Is that the man you want to love? A man whose decisions will someday lead him to his impending doom?"

Anaid drew back defensively. "He had every right to leave his family! Will had his reasons! But eight years ago, you were just too stubborn to-"

"Shut up." Diana's words were as solid as a dense brick, falling and smashing Anaid's confidence. "At this point, Faulkenier would serve as a better adversary than my own shadow."

For a brief moment, they were caught in a bitter collision of ideas in which both were too stubborn to understand the other. But, a steadfast knock on the bedroom door broke the tension, as Diana returned to the warmth of her room and approached the door. Pulling on the steel bar to open the door, she poked her head out into the hallway to meet with the antsy expression of the same maid she had seen earlier. "What's the matter?" Diana could only force her words out while feeling agitated at the same time. The maid, her eyes darting in all directions to avoid Diana's challenging look, responded rather courageously, for a time like this:

"It's Capricorn. He wishes to see you."

By then, Diana was seething with fury, already vowing to send him to hell.

[Xerxcie]

The maid allowed me to step inside, thankfully. As I stand in the middle of a huge, gaping room, full of portraits and landscapes, I looked down to see if I had left any dust on the ghost-white floor. To my shock I see footprints set in dark mud, and I was apparently their source, until I look forward and see them progress up the stairs. "Maybe this isn't the best time?" I question, but direct orders were orders. I cross my arms over my chest and lean against a wall, deep in thought, planning a tactical strike on those who call themselves the Hydra.

Footsteps snapped me back to attention, and I see the figure of a woman walking down the stairs. If I hadn't known any better, I'd assume she was beyond angry. Nonetheless, I uncross my arms and bow, more for show than for proper form, smile, and say, "Hello, ma'am. I am William Knight, a.k.a. Capricorn. I do not believe we have met."

[Demorae]

Diana quickly threw on her white silken nightgown, which she had laid out before that shower. The maid had been hastening her to go speak with the man at the door, so she was resorted to confronting him, maybe to later beat the shit out of him, so she could finally get that long night's sleep she's been waiting for. Slyly striding down each step of the stairs, a black dagger's blade was then created from accumulating shadows that were once scattered across the floor. Diana held her hands calmly behind her, and walked with a dignified posture, much like a regal Mistress of the manor. But, in fact, it was the certainty of finally getting a chance to lodge that dagger into his heart that set her in an undoubtful mood.

As her left foot arrived at the base of the stairs beside her right, the cold of the tile chilled her toes, but the sight of Will heated her senses. Anticipation caused Diana to tighten her grip on the dagger blade, so much that its uneven edges pierced her palm. She neared him until a footstep separated them. The corner of her lip quirked, as he so pretended to not recognize her. Of all his antics, by far, this was the most bothering.

"I'm not gullible, Capricorn. You and I both know why you're here." Diana's wielding hand trembled, unable to hold back from a jab to his chest. She forced it back, awaiting the right moment. "You know very well who I am, as well as my deceitful intentions, yet you dare enter my home, thinking you'd be treated like a guest. Well I think not."

Without even raising the dagger first, Diana swung the blade forthward, thrusting it into his chest... only to realize he no longer stood there. The black blade was wedged into the wall, the shadow substance melting into the white marble. Will had stumbled to his right, out of the dagger's way, as though someone had shoved him aside to spare his life.

Anaid...

[Xerxcie]

I frown, suddenly tipping to the side.. How strange. steadying, I straighten the uniform given to me, I wanted to look my best, even if she was slightly insane. "So they told you to tell me about the Hydra's leaders? If so that would save a lot of time. And as for deceit, I play no trick on you, if that's what you're thinking. I mean no insult. If they have alerted you of who I am, then I am indeed an Astrowalker, such as yourself." I turn, showing the silver symbol upon my back.
"And I did not want to impose on you, I simply need locations and then I'll be on my way. You need not to trouble yourself with giving me anything." Sliding my hands into my pockets, I turn towards the wall behind me. "What was that you held in your hand? If it was an attempt to kill me, it failed," I joked, "due to my apparent, sudden drunkenness."
(I know it's short, but this is mainly focusing on dialogue)

[Demorae]

This wasn't going to work. As long as Anaid was glued to her side, Diana would have not a chance to even attempt at killing him. Immensely shocked, she stared down at her feet, her shoulders trembling in absolute denial of him. Wha- What...?! I have come so close, only to be foiled by the petty emotions of Anaid... This was endless; every attempt so far had been proven fruitless, no matter how much the effort. Whether assisted by an army of Hitlerites, or simply by the stab of a knife, Will's escape from death was too inevitable to prove otherwise. This restriction brought upon a mental blockade for Diana, which led to this uprising of her unheeding insanity. Her massive aversion for Will was beyond anyone could comrehend - even herself. She found herself always strongly belligerent to his very existence, for reasons even she did not know. The truth was something hidden deep within her subconscience, something she could never gain access to. Perhaps, a troubing - traumatizing - memory that she couldn't find the means of knowing. Whatever that reason may be, Diana couldn't help but hold that death-gripping grudge against him.*She knew now that if Anaid were to go in for the kill of punishment, she would have deserved it. Diana had been given warning, but chose to stand against Anaid's sensivities. So, whatever her shadow chose to do next couldn't be questioned. * *

But, Diana had felt the presence of Anaid gradually diminish, probably retreating to their bedroom to sullenly contemplate the impulses she had taken against and for Diana. As she was far from the vicinity of Will, Diana stepped up to snag his uniform collar into her firm clutches to drag him forth, to ram him into the wall behind him. With her fingernails digging into the leather fabric of his uniform, Diana clenthed her teeth as she was tensified, unable to withdraw that beastly glare from him.*

"You... I will not be made a fool out of by you. You've chosen the wrong time and place to-" she was reminded of the time back at the Prison, just minutes before he escaped from behind bars. Diana had repeditively smashed him into the wall, without mercy, due to that same pang of fury she possessed now. But now, the clothing he wore looked and felt awfully familiar - the apparel of a prestige, respected Hitlerite. Now, she wasn't degrading the dignity of just Will. She was threatening to kill an authorized Hiterite. William Knight: a Hitlerite. That title was a concept too far-fetched to even grasp. Diana found her hands shake and pulse, before impulsively releasing his uniform.*"What the hell? ... You cannot be a Hitlerite... There's just no way... You mustn't be a Hitlerite!"

Exploding with aggression, she raised an open palm, black plasma rising from her fingertips, prepared to strike him. But out of all odds, Diana was once again interrupted, not by Anaid, but by something else. The door opens slowly and distinctly, allowing a bright figure to enter the foyer. Dressed in an ironed bleach-white lab coat with his fists jammed in his pockets, was Carlisle.*

Carlisle von Raelyn.*

[Xerxcie]

I calmly glance over toward the new figure who entered the room. He must've been related to von Raelyn, as she had not ordered him out, or to turn away. Instead she froze, her hand poised to strike. Finally growing tired of this, a blast of air knocks von Raeyln back multiple steps, and I flatten out the bits of crinkled fabric left from her nails. Clearing my throat, I speak. "Ms. von Raeyln, I am not going to allow you to knock me about. Enough is enough. And don't expect Garrard to be too happy about this...incident...due to the fact that you haven't told me anything about the current location of the Hydra headquarters. And might I suggest that you buy a pair of glasses before making speculations about whether or not I'm a Hitlerite? I quite obviously am." Turning toward the door, I nod to the man in the lab-coat who entered, wishing him a nice evening. Shutting the large door behind me, I walk down to the motorcycle, speeding off to my new apartment five minutes away from the HQ. It wasn't exactly a mansion, the only difference between the two were that the apartment wasn't as large.

Retiring into the shower, as I could not remember the last time I had one, I ponder about von Raelyn's reaction, slightly dismayed. From what I've been told about her, we could've risen to the top of the Hitlerite list. But sadly, she ruined her first impression, along with my tolerance.

[Karazura]

A new scent filled the air, the scent that defined science and scientists for many, many years, a scent that brought Louis and Alex to wonder who it was. Alex was about to leave the desk, which was far out of view of the foyer where the scent was coming from, when Louis forced Alex down into his chair once more. 'Alex, you have made choices I have agreed with up until now, this idea you just had to visit that stranger is dangerous, very much so. Do not confront him, not yet. He could be dangerous or helpful, but for now that will have to remain unknown to you Alex.' Louis hissed silently into Alex's ear. 'Louis, do not force me to do this. I wouldn't enter view anyway, just be near the foyer to hear the conversation.' Alex silently said. He stood up once more and walked silently and stayed around the corner from the foyer, not hiding, but not in sight.

[Demorae]

That fucking asshole's gonna die. He doesn't deserve to live. He doesn't deserve that one last breath. He should have died. He should have perished today...

eight years ago...

Diana had slumped to the ground, falling onto her knees and palms, heaving, not by pain of the impact, but gaping with self-horror. He can't be.... A Hitlerite... Above everything, HE CANNOT STILL BE ALIVE! Violet blood spilled from the scar in her palm,and smeared across the flawlessly-polished white tile floor when she pulled herself to her feet. Her father hadn't even approached her in assistance to help her up. Instead, he only stood at the doorway with a gloomy expression, sickened with confusion. His face was hidden beneath a shadow, so still that he appeared unbreathing. Diana mustered the skirt of her nightdress in her shaky fists, uneasy, until she spoke above the silence, "What's the matter with you, Father?!" she shouted without intending to, but he didn't seem to mind her volume. His lips parted, and he seldomly looked toward her, meeting with her face of distress with his disciplined glare. She knew that he would not dare lay a finger on her, but under that much pressure, he was subject to just about any reaction. But, all her father murmured was:

"That face. Is he really...? William... his mother had died recently, has she not? But his face... It's been stained. Stained, with the eyes of someone who has seen death more than once. Last time I'd seen him and his family, was eight years..."

Oddly enough, I couldn't remember by past when it exceeds any more than eight years back. He continued,

"What I'd give to relive those days."

[Xerxcie]

I stand in front of the hanging mirror, no expression on my face. I had come to the realization that I couldn't remember anything before yesterday, and even though I healed amazingly quickly, as said by the scientists, would memories be able to heal? Can they ever be truly lost?

I run a towel through my hair, drying it off, and the image in the mirror shifted to what I looked like a few days ago for an instant, then back to the me I saw and lived today. Was I really that crappy looking?

I sigh, flopping down onto my bed. I had a backpack filled with my belongings, although how I knew that I couldn't remember. I unzip it once more, finding a small package at the very bottom. Inside it's contents consisted of one, lone ring. On it was an engraved D, and it looked like it wasn't new.

"Who's is this? It can't be mine. I suppose they made a mistake at the headquarters..."
Mumbling to myself, I toss the small, pristine box onto the dresser, and read a book contained inside from where I last left off.

[Demorae]

Without speaking another word, he ran his fingers through his dishevaled hair, and quietly sauntered upstairs until he disappeared from sight. It never occurred to Diana how odd it was to see her father stationary at the age of 32, while she was already past half that. She'd find ways to a lonely laugh by thinking of how it was like if she were to exceed her own father's age. Silly idea it was, but the fact that she couldn't recall when she got that crazy foreshadowing made her reluctant to keep wondering. But indeed, although it was childish, it was a personal joke she held to herself, as an excuse to smile every once in a while.

The hem of Diana's nightdress swayed with the wind that entered through the open doorway, brushing against her cold ankles. She felt a chill when Anaid approached from close behind, hearing a whispering voice murmur in her ear, "How's Father? He looks awfully tired," possibly trying to pull Diana from her thoughts. Diana neither provided a response, nor turned to meet with the sight of the shadow; she only stepped forther to warily shut the door, and progressed forward down the left corridor.

Ceiling with marble archways, the corridor assumed the same interior design as that of the foyer. The snowy white of the walls still held their shine just as well as they had eight years ago. Who was to say that they've been scrubbed in years? In fact, they haven't. The Von Raelyn Residence rarely had guests, if at all. In most rooms, the floors were never walked upon in years, let alone its walls being touched. The corridors, were so empty, so vacant. But a familiar cadency of footsteps caught her attention.

Strutting down the hallway came the too-familiar figure of Vail Winnfield. She had been hired as Diana's nanny when she was 29 and when Diana was six, and she never aged a day since. Her hair was just a lively yellow as it was eight years ago, and her complexion was just as smooth as then. Vail would've made a perfect runway model, but ironically, she loathes the image of herself as making a living by having a pretty face. But that was then, and this is now. Even when Diana was eighteen, Vail still stuck around, as though she were part of the family, looking the same ever since. That sight could be tiresome after eight years, but as least her appearance was easy on the eyes. Diana had bypassed her by a step, until Vail said, "Honestly, I don't understand the point of Carlisle returning home when he leaves before dawn the next day. That, isn't much a visit, is it?"

Diana submitted to the reasoning, and sighed herself. "I know, but at least Garrard is able to give him a break once a week to even step inside the house."

"True," was all she had said, after hesitating. Diana offered a grim look upon herself, until Vail finished on a second, much happier, note, "Well, it's past midnight; you should get some sleep for tomorrow." With that, she walked off, the clop of her heels fading just as she grew distant down the hall. Diana pondered over how Vail could be so joyful, on a day, time, and place like this. Apparently, there must be a special occassion she should be looking in to. But, instead of heading back to her bedroom to sleep, Diana had set out to find Alex, where ever he may be in this mansion. She new that with the stress over Will being a Hitlerite, insomnia wont hesitate to kick in. Journeying to the library, she hoped she'd be able to exhaust herself enough on the way there. Upon setting foot in the grand library, a broad aisleway led straight to a door in the back. Taking the carpetted direction, Diana slowly opened the door ajar, where she calmly weaved herself in through the gap. On the vast desk lie scattered materials, new gadgets in a room that hadn't been entered in over a decade. Although various implements were set apart, no one sat in the chair. The only thing to conclude was that Alex had left for the night, or perhaps only wandered the manor to explore further. Grateful to see that he had found his way around, she mutters to herself above the silence,

"Oh, Faulkenier. I see you've found my father's study room."