A Fallen and Xodus collab~
The refreshments arrived quite promptly, almost as if the Pallidinos were trying to usher the Asylums on their way. However even royalty among the rogues could not simply disrespect an Asylum let alone a Chrono Asylum. Perhaps any Chrono other than Reri would have taken this opportunity to address the lack of etiquettes, A.M.R.O's princess on the other hand appeared quite content nibbling on the sweets and biscuits provided.
The real peculiarity was the behavior of the Silver Reaper, Angel was never one to shirk something sweet though now he sat cross legged staring at the Asylums, their numbers growing by the minute. His fingers gently tapped the frame of his silver tinted spectacles all the while listening to the course of action suggested by his subordinates. It was little surprise that their reasoning was on point, Asylums were not mere humans. They were humans trained to perfection, each art honed beyond what an ordinary human could possess. Factors such as intelligence, strength, stamina were all molded into the monstrosity that was the soldier of A.M.R.O.
“Ouroboros,” came Samad's casual input. The Iranian a stark contrast to his partner on top of being an oddity himself.
"Does she have any friends in high places or that're particularly resourceful that we know about? She could have used one of them to bunker down in a temporary safe house." The team Pravus Feles gave their contribution next. It was almost irksome at how easily these Asylums deciphered the webs of lies, all it really meant was that procrastinating this ordeal would be that much more arduous.
Cade's head jerked to the new arrivals, his right hand pinched his chin his forefinger and thumb in thought,
"I wouldn't know for sure anymore, it's been too long. I wasn't really interested or subjected to alchemy politics until I surged a few years ago."Samar huffed under his breath for a moment, his mood soured by Cade's outdated information,
"Is there anything useful and updated you do know?"Cade flinched but didn't say anything farther when Olivia interrupted the intense moment.
"Where Asylums are granted sanctuary, and it is neutral ground for all Asylums." Angel eventually tilted his eerie gaze to meet Olivia. A relatively young Asylum, despite her judgement being spot on she seemed to mix a few things.
"It is 'Parle'" Angel corrected the child in front of him, the tapping of his spectacles stopping briefly before continuing once more, almost melodiously. "A mistake that, the place should have been torn to the ground," the Reaper continued, though this time almost talking to himself until realizing he had drifted off. "Ourosboros has existed a long time child, it has been a sanctuary for alchemists long before a Chrono decided to mark it as his territory. The confusion is quite common, Asylums are not really welcome in there and very few do go." As he continued to speak, his gaze slowly appeared to shift towards Samad, a weighing gaze, until returning back to Asylum. "Your deduction are probably accurate." Despite the acknowledgment, Angel's tone was anything but praise giving, weary would be more accurate to say. "A main branch Bloodline member would have the currency for invite and as such Ouros would be the ideal refuge for the 'package'. For most of you this may be the first time you enter Ouros, the rules in there are very different and you should take heed. It is a breeding ground for filth of all kind, a hub of knowledge that would make you sick. 'No blood shall ever be spilled in Ourosboros', a rule that predates the 'Parle'". With that said Angel didn't waste any time in brushing his hands against one another, as if washing away the taint of where he would soon go. "While I step out for a while, I will need you all to accompany my lovely partner and buy yourselves proper clothes, we are going to one of the most exclusive clubs in the world....have to look the part, no?" Angel spoke while gesturing towards the rest, all aside from Samad whom he casually signaled to follow. Though not before smirking at the rest and brushing his crimson vest, as if hinting the rest at the art of dressing.
Samad's right eyebrow arched in question, his figure stirred from his standing posture and moved into Angel's wake. He knew his little slip up had been noted but he drew no attention to it. Instead he moved to follow the Lost Number. Cade gaze drifted in his wake, the sensation of faint curiosity and confusion tried to infuse itself into the Iranian's own. Being a weak link, it didn't work well. Samad shrugged it off easily.
"Now there is the matter of getting ourselves an invite, that and discussing the matter of the kind of person you are..." Despite the casual tone there did exists something unsettling in how the Reaper spoke the last few words.
Samad didn't comment while in the company of others. It wasn't likely they would've heard the statement or understood its implications, but to reply would've created more issues than he was willing to deal with. He gripped his cane tightly and moved in a limp gait behind the Reaper until they reach outside.
[color=deba5e][b] "Does it really matter? After all, Asylums aren't considered... human. So the term person is farfetched or at best, stretching it. Don't you think?"[/color][/b] Samad let the statement linger in the air until Angel decided to replace them.
Angel maintained his silence as the two continued to walk for a while, minutes dragged on as the two strolled through Venice at a leisurely pace. "What one is considered is unimportant, the fact is you Asylums are humans." The Reaper finally broke the silence as his hands delved into his vest pocket and fished out a gold coin.
"Did you know the 'linking' bonds more than just the sanity of two people, it was once considered the bonding of souls. That is one reason why surviving a 'severing' has been so uncommon. It has even been observed that those rare individuals that did survive would often commit suicide at some point or the other. I believe I read a hypothesis that if death came to one of the linked, the survivor would feel that pain, a debilitating kind of pain and greatest desire left in the survivor is 'the desire to die'." By this point Angel had apparently forgotten that Samad was trailing behind, lost in his own words the Lost Number droned on until suddenly stopping and realizing he was near his destination.
"Been there and desire already passed," Samad noting that AMRO wasn't too keen on their assets dying and took measures to prevent it. Despite the property value, if it wasn't taken care it than it wouldn't last too long and only wasted more money than was needed.
"Those who don't have much to lose are the most dangerous, they are also the likely one's to not blink when staring into the abyss. That is not a compliment boy." The look Angel gave Samad was a cryptic look, a scrutinizing look. "How much do you know about Ourosboros?" It took but a single glance at the Iranian's face to know the man knew of the seeping filth. Perhaps not the greatest of its secrets, Angel thought. But he did know the some of it, the kind of knowledge that made your eyes that much more hollow.
[color=deba5e][/b] "Didn't expect it to be, you're not big on giving them from what the rumors say. Then again, you often get anyone that works with you killed,"[/b][/color] Samad commented off handedly.
"Ourosboros has many layers, each harder to accessible than the other. Human trafficking, drug cartels, alchemic experimentation and forbidden alchemy," the Lost Number grimaced as he finished. "Were you involved in the latter?" Angel stopped as soon as the question left his lips, his gaze fixated on the grand "Trevi Fountain" in front of them. His hands slowly delving into his vest pocket and fishing out a bright gold coin.
"No, I wasn't," Samad stated bluntly.
"There are certain doors that should remain closed, I do not wish for the others to learn of such ugly things. The foul taste never goes away." As Angel concluded he realized he was humming a familiar tone, one that was quite apt in this situation. Ourosboros had always had a flair of dramatics, the invite process was no exception.
How did the wordings go? The Lost Number thought as he stared into the pond, watching his own reflection.
Pay the toll to the ferryman in gold,
so he may offer you a ride.
One the price is paid, he'll set the sail,
take you to the golden gate,
where the snake eats its tail.
So wish upon a fountain....
As he hummed the last bit of the song the gold coin shimmered as it flew into the air from a soft flick and with a pleasant "ching" landed into the fountain, the ripples obscuring the Reaper's reflection.
"The others will likely, if they haven't already, see such things in time. I aim to keep Cade out of trouble as I don't want to do through that painful experience again. He's going to be sticking to the lower, more public levels." "Were you this charming with your last partner as well?" If the question was meant for a taunt, Angel's casual tone didn't appear to signify it as such.
Samad held silence for a moment then finally clarified,
"No, I wasn't. I didn't expect to be linked up again when she died. It's not something you often consider because you usually don't survive it."He inhaled, then continued,
"How many invites do we actually need for everyone?" "There is always one invite boy, I am the patron whose called for the ferry and my guests will pay the toll upon the gate," the Reaper grimaced once more as he spoke, his hand reaching into the pocket of his crimson waistcoat and fishing out, what looked like a rectangular parchment with intricate symbols laced all over. "Let us be on our way," and with that the two began their stroll through the city once more.
The Reaper soon realized he was among the first to arrive at the Pallidino manor that was the place everyone had to rendezvous once they had worn the appropriate apparel. After that Angel appeared to lose track of time while staring at his coffin, a form of meditative tradition he would often perform in order to pass time.
"Big brother, hellooo?" The Lost Number gave a start, his head slowly tilting towards the person looming over him. "I see you are back Rena, enjoyed your time with the others?" He asked while patting the Chrono's head affectionately.
"Yea I did! At first I thought they would just be a bunch of boring old people, but I suppose not all old people are boring!" The Chrono chirped while twirling about, her Victorian stylized crimson gowns fluttering about.
"You will have to tell me off your adventure with the others later, for now let us get going," Rena gave a slight pout at having been cut off so abruptly by her partner but eventually gave way and with an excited nod.
With a weary sigh Angel placed the sigilled parchment, 'the invite' on the door and with yet another sigh, he reluctantly activated the sigil. While Angel had his glasses to protect him, Rena had the past experience to shield her eyes as a bright light suddenly engulfed the room and a white glistening portal had taken the shape of the door.
"After you, ladies and gentlemen?" Angel crowed while flourishing a bow and gesturing the rest to go through and before each Asylum could pass into the portal, the Reaper placed a bright gold coin in each of their palms. Once everyone had gone through Angel almost contemplated just letting them run wild in there and avoid going altogether. Ourosboros had every kind of pleasure one could ask for, aside from a peace of mind and a nap. However the Lost Numbers devious attempt at abondoning the rest was foiled by his over eager partner who mothered him into going. When Rena would place her fists on her hips and arch her chin, all hope would end and loss was inevitable.
As soon as Ante Mortem leaped through the portal they found themselves standing in front of a large golden gate with the insignia of the Ourosboros carved onto it. It was hard to tell where this place was located, that was the trick to how Ouros always avoid unnecessary attention, simply because no one knew where the damn place was. A small slit appeared to be present in the door, the size just large enough to slip a coin through and upon doing just that, entree would be awarded.
Once again the Ante Mortem were last to enter, the Patrons must always enter at the end and as soon as they stepped through the golden gates, deafening music and a flurry of lights bombarded them. One would assume Ante Mortem would despise such a gathering of fool and they were right, but at this moment they weren't Ante Mortem. Angel and Rena quite calmly walked towards a nearby bar, an air of arrogance and aristocracy emanating from the two. In such a place, status, wealth and power were the ruling qualities.
"Welcome to the first level, I am to be your personal attendant. How may I serve?"
"Is the 'betting' open?" Angel didn't even bothering looking towards his 'attendant' a glorified name for a man servant which this institute appoints for every Patron.
"I-I'm s-sorry sir?" The man spoke while fumbling over his words, by his gaping eyes it was clear he did not expect this.
"Tell management Legna Damodred wishes to place a 'bet' and the price is information, the medium is the 'ring'. Go on boy!" Angel only had to raise his voice a little to send the attendant scurrying off, almost yelping as the poor lad ran towards a restricted elevator that would take him to the deeper levels.
"Why don't we dance too?" Rena chirped while staring at the thousands of people that appeared to have lost themselves in blaring music and the endless drinks offered by the bar.
"Maybe if they put on Vivaldi's Seasons, I don't even though what this rubbish is. It is just a cluster of different incoherent sounds."
Konan375
Fallenreaper