XoXKieroBombXoX — Roleplayer Guild

Level 1 -
||||||||||
Word Count:4747
+5 EXP!!
Tostarena Town - Base of the Mountain

Collab with @Lugubrious

After ultimately making the decision that a life of seeking just cause rather than acting on it, Raiden stood from the edge of the roof, and lept downward. Now falling, Raiden felt the hot winds blowing upwards against his face as he held his hat to his head, keeping his mariachi outfit intact. Raiden stuck the landing as a ninja would, quickly regaining his composure and standing straight. Now with a new motive to move forward, Raiden popped his neck in a new excitement he hadn't felt in a particularly decent while. In a fast stride, Raiden meant to obtain an object he had left behind. 

While Raiden was never one to leave anywhere without a blade, he needed to backtrack to collect one he had previously left behind. The HF Murasama was no ordinary weapon. It was similar in design to Raiden's signature HF Blade, but was heavier, and more damn indestructible than his. What it lacked in speed, it made up for in design. It was the blade that had saved Raiden from the crushing blows of Senator Armstrong so many months ago, the blade that ended the war between the two. The inn that Raiden had been staying at was very well kept and always respected his belongings. Raiden always liked that, they treated his property like their guests too. After arriving at his room, he entered his key into the keyhole and turnt the door unlocked. Entering, he'd swiftly track down the red blade and pick it up.

Quickly, Raiden sat on the bed and examined the sword carefully after removing it from the metallic sheathe. His eyes intricately taking in all of the details of sharp edge. So few memories associated with the artifact... yet, somehow it was his. Memories filled the brain of the cyborg as he stared the blade down, tip to hilt, memories of those he had fought those many months ago. Nodding, he stood and sheathed it just as quickly as he initially removed it. He was now ready to move on, as it magnetically latched to his side, now a piece of him once again. 

Taking a step out of his room to the lobby, he'd nod, tip his hat at the attendee watching over the place, as he tossed the key underhand to the undead compatriot. "I'll be gone for good now. Keep that bed warm for another soul." He directed it at the skeleton watching over. After fixing the brim of his hat, he stepped out of the building, seeking one of the individuals who had arrived by train earlier that day.

It wasn't long before Raiden's efforts bore fruit. Although the steady supply of itinerant tourists who frequented Tostarena meant that one could always find a wealth of unfamiliar faces alongside the town's bright-eyed skeletal inhabitants, the couple dozen strangers who rolled in that afternoon were fresh on his mind. They appearances ran the gamut from innocent and childlike to monstrous and menacing, but none of those distinctive newcomers stuck with him quite so much as the largest among their number. He recalled two that stood over the rest, one a mustached titan whose rippling bare muscles bore a mosaic of tattoos and sunburns, the other a keg-shaped gumshoe whose brass instrumentation brought to mind another big man who concealed fearsome cybernetic augmentation beneath his trench coat. It didn't take much more scrutiny to tell that his suspicions might be on the money, either; just about every movement the detective made elicited some mechanical sound, and Raiden got more than one glimpse at the squad metal legs that carried Big Band through town. Unlike Sundowner, however, this man seemed decidedly old-fashioned, more like a brass contraption than a cutting-edge weapon of war. Compared to him, the enormous wasp with wrought-gold wings looked like much more of a threat.

All three of them had gone up the mountain, however, leaving the cyborg ninja with just one person of interest to track down. A few succinct questions posed here and there to obliging Tostarenans soon brought him to one the town's largest buildings, the wrestling arena. Woven from a material like black velvet and painted in vivid patterns that seemed to glow under the blacklights, it housed a quartet of rectangular wrestling rings -red, purple, orange, and green- arrayed like tennis courts, where visitors could watch or even participate in matches with the color-coded luchadors. More of a spectacle than a competition thanks to the undisputed championship of Tostarena's hero Juan Aguacate, the place put on regular 'fights' to entertain the tourists, and today Raiden's target was among their number.

Even in the somewhat dodgy light, she was easy enough to spot as she leaned against the wall, idly watching Cobra, Dragon, Eagle, and Tiger duke it out. Vindictive fusion with the spirit of a slain Resistance member had made Ciella shorter than her usual look, with more defined muscles and a more punk flair to her attire, but she still towered over the average man at almost seven feet tall, not including her rabbit ears. Her mask made it impossible to get a perfect read on her, but her expression suggested that the current tag-team match only barely managed to capture her attention. More than likely, she only sought to pass the time while she waited for something, possibly for the others of her group to return from the mountain. Still, it was as good an opportunity as Raiden could ask for to speak to one of the newcomers face to face--if he didn't mind looking up at her, that is.

With a determined step, Raiden approached the towering lady with purpose and determination. Normally, he'd use his cybernetic eye to get a read on some of the woman's basic biology and origin, but since he has been neglected care to his robotic body, there was no such option at the current time being. The swordsman looked up, now standing to her side, leaning against the very same wall she rested on, giving some appropriate distance. He tried his best to not be awkward about the situation, but the truth is that he was a stranger with metal harnessing his entire body and acting as though this lady was an old timey friend. Eyes stared down the fight that happened not to far away, trying to gauge how to enter the conversation. After thinking for a moment, he spoke to the women, avoiding immediate eye contact. "Pinnacle of the town, eh? Not much of a wrestling fan myself. I usually find myself in situations that involve guns and blades." Now sure he had gained her attention he crossed his arms and look up, his eye now meeting her eyes.

"Mind if I talk to you for a minute? I have some questions I need answered. Hell, I'll even buy you a drink if I get the answers I need." Raiden kept his hand on his sword's handle, now watching the fight that had been going on in the background.

The limits imposed on Ciella's peripheral vision by her mask meant that she didn't happen to notice the cautious cyborg until he announced his presence. As he made his opener, which very quickly went beyond the bounds of what one might typically call 'normal conversation', she shifted her weight from one leg to another. While only a slight change in terms of posture, it allowed her to cast her hidden eyes his way and scope him out. At first glance he appeared to be an armored warrior, whose form-fitting suit and black metal plates mimicked the musculature of the human body, but the make was unlike anything that the Agito had seen before. Perhaps he, like many of the people strewn throughout this anachronous World of Light, hailed from a realm where technological revolution -the sort that Validar even now worked to achieve for Al Mamoon- was a thing of the distant past. Either way, his gear bothered Ciella less than his intentions. Whether he recognized her as one of the three Grimleal elites or not, just what business did this stranger have with her?

He asked if she could spare some time for an interview, even offering a free libation from a local bar to make it worth her while. Ciella, however, remained wary. Though Raiden addressed her casually, his hand never left the hilt of his blade, which combined with his appearance in the wrestling arena's mostly-dark interior gave him an air of unmistakable menace. Her cyan-painted lips curled in disdain as all sorts of ideas sprang to mind. Although yesterday's raids throughout Al Mamoon culminated in the destruction of the Resistance, a few of its members remained at large, including the boss at whose behest the manipulative Nastasia sowed a campaign of chaos throughout the city. Was this man an assassin, come to squeeze her of all the information he could before taking revenge for his fallen comrades? If he knows of me and would still seek to aggress, he must be confident indeed. But such conceited bravado will come to naught.

Leaning on her longbow like a staff, Ciella put her hand on her hip and replied, her tone even as she kept her eyes on the luchadors. "I will indulge your curiosity, but before we proceed, I should like to make one thing plain." She paused for a moment as one wrestler suplexed the other, the WHACK of the impact against the wooden table below the ring echoing through the whole arena. "Do you believe in despair?"

She ran a hand through her hair, then replaced it on her waist before elaborating. "Not in its existence, mind you, but in its righteousness. That the deceivers and the deceived alike might know the truth, painful as it may be. That their foolish dreams and flimsy ideals should be broken, their lies exposed and illusions dispelled, that all may awaken from their deluded fantasies and confront our harsh, cold reality for what it is." What could be seen in her face was aloof and dispassionate, without pity or mercy. "If you understand, then we have no quarrel, and if we have no quarrel, I will tell you what I know."

Raiden after fixing his sombrero which had tilted slightly to one side of his head listened to her speech and took a genuine moment to consider, REALLY consider what she had said. Raiden had always had an idea of common philosophies such as anguish, despair, and pain, his time in Liberia had verified that, although he had always suppressed those memories. He did so now as well despite the giant woman's inquiry. As he adjusted the large blade on his hip he spoke in his raspy voice. "I guess no one's a hero. We all have something that makes us cruel and unjust. We're all villains in someone else's stories. And no, I didn't get that from the internet." Raiden's arms crossed over one another as he took another moment to hear his own thoughts among the shouts of the spectators and the wrestlers who did their performances.

"Philosophy isn't my strong suit, all I believe in is fighting in what you believe in, even if that fighting involves huge hulking guys in masks beating the shit out of each other." He nodded to the arenas that she had been watching earlier, quickly grabbing the reigns of the conversation again. "A psychopath told me that, but there is some truth to it." There was a moment when Raiden remembered the spiel the Crazy Senator had forced into his metallic framed skull. Another moment of silence passed before Raiden added his final statement. "Yes, I believe in despair... You get the answers you needed?"

"Hmph." While Ciella didn't follow everything the mostly-metal man told her in response, especially about some organization that he referred to as 'the Internet', he managed to grasp her meaning at least in part. For once, it seemed, the Agito would be spared a deluge of inane platitudes about friendship and justice. Most of the time talk turned out to a loathsome waste of time, for seldom did it make any understand her righteousness. Few could even bring themselves to pretend to. The painful truth simply lay beyond them, a scab they couldn't bear to tear free. Thus did she prefer to cut to the chase, draw her bow taut, brush deception aside, and fill her nocked arrow with despair. But if Raiden counted himself a man free from the binds of delusion, able to fight for what he believed in no matter how small-minded people might call foul, the two of them could get along for now.

"That will suffice. State your questions," she replied.

Raiden was somewhat relieved when the tall woman would be at least somewhat in agreement with what Raiden had said. There were many things about this woman that left Raiden concerned. Maybe it was the way she held her demeanor, or maybe it was just simply how she stated their ideal, but that was not why Raiden was here. As she confirmed that his beliefs were valid, Raiden would nod, now considering how to phrase his question. Yes, it was true he had somewhat watched the group since the moment they got here, yet he somehow did not know anything about their purpose in the small town, nor did he wish to reveal this information to the towering woman who could very easily knock Raiden on his side if he were caught off guard.

Raiden scratched his chin as he finally asked his question: "Your 'friends', if I can call them that... They went up Split Mountain... Right?" There was a slight concern in his voice as he asked this question. He had once tried to brave the mountain once he had arrived a while ago, failing short near the clearing of trees, no longer able to keep going. If they had been gone this long then... Chances are they had no intention on stopping. Things became somewhat clearer in Raiden's introspection, able to now know where their goal lied. A feeling of stupidity now fell over Raiden, how the hell could he not see? Their mission was to reach the peak, the goal many tourists failed to even consider achieving, yet they had not come back. 

Nothing would be held back in Raiden's next question, the inquiry hitting Ciella in it's full bluntness, "Why are they going to the peak?" Raiden was not particularly worried about their skills nor their dedication, but rather was purely in wonder. Why? Why take the risk of death just to meet the tip of the mountain? Why risk ones life for such a seemingly meaningless task? It confused Raiden. Sure, his initial climb had been cut short due to his cybernetics freezing up and his lack of motivation, but there had to be a deeper meaning. "Why the hell... Why the hell do they plan to go so far?!" His voice was hushed as he said this, but held the full force of Raiden's confusion in it. He knew people were always driven by delusion, but surely, no matter their intention, this was too far!... Right?

Raiden's misunderstanding made Ciella bristle. "Those people are certainly not my friends. Such an ephemeral, fragile concept, apt to change with the slightest whim, is of no use to me. But they did climb the mountain." She sighed, her head slightly tilted, as the cyborg inquired as to the Seekers' purpose. How unfortunate it was that he'd approach her of all people for information about the group she'd elected to keep tabs on, rather than any actual adherent to the Seekers' cause. These were questions that Validar -and to an extent she herself- wanted to know the answers to. Still, she could offer what little she knew.

"As far as I understand it, there is some sort of powerful adversary on the mountaintop whose very existence presents a threat to the world, and whose destruction would be for the greater good. Hmph, as if any such thing exists." She adjusted her mask slightly so that she could massage her temples with her thumb and index finger, as if the very idea of such a heroic quest gave her a headache.

Raiden couldn't help himself but slightly agree with the lady's ideals, although not to the extent in which she said them, there was truth to the statement. Friendships were a concept Raiden hadn't been entirely familiar with, so sure, maybe the concept to him was foreign, but he knew that companionship wasn't entirely pointless, it worked for some people. After she answered his initial question, he couldn't help but feel some sort of deep feeling of guilt in his gut. He had the ability to stop them before they stepped foot, but he had let them pursue their mission. While he isn't directly responsible for anything that happens to them, there was some form of feeling that he had led them to their death by not intervening. 

But...

As he thought before, these were no civilians. These were individuals with the mentality and abilities of heroes, at least from first glance and the description he was just given. Maybe they hadn't been dead, maybe Raiden was just expecting the worst out of the situation for reasons beyond his own comprehension, yet he couldn't help worrying. Suppressing his current thoughts, he'd continue speaking. "Don't know how in the hell anything could live up there. I climbed that mountain for at least an hour and it only got more hypothermia inducing the further I went. I'm lucky my joints didn't completely freeze over." Maybe he was talking too much, he hadn't even told her his true interest in the situation yet.

"As much as I love listening to the sounds of parties raging throughout the town every night, I've grown restless. My body aches every passing minute and it's becoming more and more unbearable." Then his mind drifted to Maverick, the group that had made Raiden the cybernetic ninja he was today, to how he has become weaker as a result of negligence to his own body. There wasn't much he could do in terms of fighting right now, but... If he could get his hands on the spine of a corpse, he would immediately be back in action. The question he had been meaning to ask suddenly got formulated as he realized what he needed. "Do you know if there are any scientists that were in the group? Ones who understand cybernetics?"

He shook his head. No, there probably wasn't. The only people who understood Raiden's needs as a cyborg were the good Doktor and the medical research staff at Foxhound. It would be incredibly unlikely any of them could help Raiden, but it still didn't hurt to ask regardless. "How about..." He thought about phrasing for a moment. Openly talking about killing a human being may raise suspicion to Raiden that he currently didn't need nor want. He tipped his sombrero in thought before resuming his question. "A lot of things die in your guys' paths?" He couldn't reveal too much information, he was always trained to hide true intentions in the case of interrogations or similar circumstances, but he knew that the question itself in origin may have been unusual.

Although Ciella didn't plan on letting her guard down, just about everything coming out of this guy's mouth made him less and less intimidating by the second. He outright admitted that he'd tried and failed to climb the mountain, specifically because it was too cold. Being a master markswoman gave Ciella an eye for distances, and considering the frankly ridiculous scale of that peak, an hour didn't seem like it would get Raiden that high. He went on to let her know just how sick he was of living in this festive tourist town, and the Sylvan began to connect the dots. Provided that this wasn't some elaborate ploy, all this stranger really wanted was a ticket out of this place, or perhaps just some action to hone the killer instincts that unadulterated peacetime dulled. Altogether, her first impression of a hardscrabble would-be assassin had been one-hundred-percent ruined.

"Cyber...netics?" she repeated, mulling over the unfamiliar word. Interaction with someone from a vastly different world never stopped being annoying. Judging by his own artificial appearance and the mention of his body, she guessed that he must be referring to 'machinery'. During her tenure in Al Mamoon, Ciella had on a couple occasions watched local tinkerers and metalworkers ply their trade, but the sheer complication of the craft put her off. In her mind she accepted it as just a different kind of magic, something that she had no intention of understanding. "I am not versed in the technological arts. However, several of those adventurers seemed capable in that regard. One young woman did have limbs and joints of metal, not unlike yourself, and during the ride over her the small, round, fuzzy one tended to her with odd instruments."

As for Raiden's last question, she tossed her hair dismissively. "This realm is one of vicious conflict, its people consumed by such bloodlust that most every fight ends in brutality and bloodshed. As if the concept of 'surrender' no longer exists. In such a world, it's kill, or be killed."

Acknowledging his understanding held his chin in between his fingers, nodding in response to her. "I apologize for my unknown vocabulary in that case... Maybe I could get some help from those few..." The last part of his speech was spoken underneath his breath, but could still be heard. A moment was taken for Raiden to consider his options he could risk climbing up the mountain again with the priority of finding the travelers he now sought, which then brought the argument of his joints freezing and giving up midway through... No, that idea wouldn't work. All he could do was wait, either for a way to get up to them or for them to finish their quest. He didn't care, though he considered both as viable options to getting away from "fiesta central".

"They'd have to be pretty far if they hadn't died yet... Idiots... God, who the hell climbs in those conditions!?" Shaking his head, Raiden brought himself back to reality. Were they that stupid? Surely it had to get to deathly conditions? It was nearly there by the time Raiden have given up. Maybe their dedication allowed them to continue pushing, maybe they were stronger then he was, maybe they had something he lacked.

"Do you know when they'll be back? Or when I can see them? I'm on the brink of death nearly everyday, and I'm not one to ask for help from others, but this is my one exception." He thought about how he had changed so much, how much of him had changed after the events of Operation Tecumseh, and once more after being consumed by the light of a being unknown to Raiden. He went from using the support of allies to having no one in a matter of seconds and now lived life alone. He sighed as he crossed his arms, now unsure of what to think of himself. He needed allies, whether he liked it ultimately or not.

Though she ostensibly agreed with him, the vehemence with which Raiden decried her new associates' decision to scale the mountain still took Ciella by surprise. He seemed bizarrely eager to meat them, and only after the cyborg dropped another hint did she start to understand why. Apparently his life in this town was one spent perpetually on death's door. No wonder he seemed a little on edge. "I do not know when they will return," she told him with a shrug. "Or even if they will return. After all, who is to say whether or not the so-called heroes finally met their match?"

She inhaled deeply, a resigned air about her, before she continued. "If you've stopped deceiving yourself into believing that you can survive without help, you may as well go all the way. Given all the athletic activity hereabouts, this town must have an infirmary...an apothecary, perhaps? In my world, healing draughts are so common that the simple act of smashing crates may yield some. Then again, if you won't even help yourself, you're probably beyond help. May as well give into despair, and let the fight for what you believe in die with you." Taunting Raiden with his own words, she urged him to quit fooling himself and seek whatever aid he could find, albeit in a roundabout way.

It became clear to Raiden, there was little way of uniting with the group of travelers at the time being. Even if he were to haul himself up the mountain, he would find his joints lock in the coldest part of the mountain before he even dreamt of meeting them, or even reaching the peak. Raiden was not one to wallow in negative outcomes, nor was he one to ultimately wait around twiddling his thumbs. He has to find his own way to survive, in that sense, she was one hundred percent correct. Then she had mentioned something odd... In her world, there are healing draughts? He had never heard of something so absurd, a draught of healing? The word itself implied instantaneous recovery, but what had been in the liquid that made it so. Must be nanomachines or something. But, maybe if something like that existed in her world... just maybe it were here too. He just has to seek it out.

He didn't take offense to her wording, though he did find some purpose in it. Nodding, he decided staying here was no longer of his best interest and would be taking his leave. Before stepping away, he would hold his hand out, offering payment for her troubles, as he had somewhat promised at the beginning. "Thanks for your time. Your information will help." After giving her the payment he finally stepped away, exiting just as quickly as he entered. He found himself in the middle of the Mexican sidewalks with a somewhat newfound sense of awareness in what he needed. Sure, it would be nice to meet the adventurers and join their rankings, though there may not be an entire need to do so. All he needed to do was find a way to recover himself, whether it be the grizzly way he did it prior, find some mechanic, or find a "healing draught". Now suddenly gaining a sense of direction, Raiden made headway to the top of a nearby building, where he would sit idly for a moment, perhaps taking a moment of contemplation.

A short time after silently accepting Raiden's loose change, Ciella became aware of an unusual warmth in the pocket of her new leather bolero jacket. She slipped a hand inside and withdrew the smooth, round crystal that she'd been given as the Seekers began their long trek up the mountain. The ferrystone. In the palm of her hand it now shone with a blue luster, and she could sense the magic that welled up within, ready to reunite the fragment with the whole no matter the distance between them. Her brows rose ever so slightly at the realization that the others must have made it, and with the Portcrystal placed, it was time for her wings to unfurl in rejection at the falsehood of this region's so-called boss, and ascend her to the heights of the world where she might cast that pretender down to the depths of despair. Ciella squeezed the crystal tight, and in a vortex of magic, disappeared.
XoXKieroBombXoX Member

Starting Fresh

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts
