Maria smiled and dropped the head, dropping her foot on top of it and crossing her arms as Isis spoke. Within Maria, something was beginning to grow. What was this feeling? Before going to fight Devrin and decisively proving he was too weak to lead all that she had ever felt was an intense need for vengeance. Vengeance that always seemed out of her reach. For the longest the only goal she had in life seemed like one she would never reach. Even with the expedition, she was unsure weather or not her hope was misplaced. Kaminae seemed impossible, in a nutshell, and rightly so. Now, Devrin was a goal she completed with ease. Perhaps having set her expectations so high had paid off in a different way. Perhaps those expectations and hopes had gone so high they touched the very sun, and ignited before falling down into more reachable goals.
Within her was something new. It was hungry, and fresh. It called her attention to it suddenly and gave itself a name. This... feeling... this motivation... Ambition. She had never known it before; having power wasn't a thing she truly wanted. If she were to be honest, she was stronger than most other Mer she knew from the area, and vastly so. I mean, she had fought a Draconian without the help of Intet and done away with him without much real effort. She was damn good with her spear, and not too bad with a longsword or Jian. Maria was not to be trifled with. This feeling of pride evidently came with her newly found motivating force. A fire lit in her eyes, and Intet could sense it too. Not even five minutes passed and she looked to her superior with a smile on her face.
"Where should I start?"
Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2014 11:20 pm
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(KEVAI)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕ARAMIL! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:CHAMPION OF ANTONY
"West," she called him. "West!" The woman had been standing outside of his door for a whole two hours. She could feel him in his room, she knew he was there. She knew he was not dead or entangled in his lust. No, she knew that he was hurting instead. That another of his dreams had begun to vanish from his eyes, that he had been once again sent back to a precipice; he begun to realize once again that he should not trust, should not love. Because in truth he was different than other people. He fell so easily and it was never reciprocated. He gave in to something, it was like a strong pull that brought him to a place where he could live totally in ignorance. And his heart always betrayed him, reminded him of a fact; that another could never really love him the same. Isis knew all of these things. She knew that deep inside West hurt tremendously at every revelation that went against him; he felt that he could never be loved. He was so fragile when it came down to it. He was weak. She loved him for his weakness. Not like a lover or a mother or a sister. But like a second part of one's self that coveted the kindness and naivety of the other half. West had always been such a loving man.
xxxxx - - -
Inside his chambers, he was not crying. In truth he did nothing, he only sat in a sort of hunched position as he stared at the indigo curtains. He remembered things, clearly, for the first time in so long. Because he wanted to remember them. Because he wanted to understand why things had become the way they were. Why West -- who was so full of light and life -- had always been cast into darkness and beyond. Why he had been killed as only a young boy for being too trusting. Why, after being brought back, he'd been tormented by illusions of love and lust for the rest of his life. Why did West love? Why did West trust? Why did West, or Raphael -- why was he so different than all the rest of his kind?
He remembered, back so long ago, the time he'd first fallen in love. The man was not really a man at all, just a gallant knight-in-training who greatly respected his King and wanted to serve his son forevermore. Raphael back then was sort of macabre but he'd already developed such an attuned taste for passion, for the romantic arts. He had already been shaped into such a kind boy even though for his entire upbringing he'd been a hateful, spiteful devil of a child. When West met this aspiring knight for the first time -- Jonathon Leislex -- he had instantly taken to him. He could see something in the boy that others couldn't see. He could see a holiness, it was like a bright gem that West had not yet learned to covet. Instead he only thirsted after what it might be, he wanted to display it before him. Uncover its meaning. And so he sought after the boy who was very much his age, sixteen and easily excitable just like him.
He remembered asking him to one of the balls that his father had thrown. The boy eagerly said yes, and so they went, the two of them together. They wore a tuxedo, Raphael's had been a black and indigo ensemble with his companion's a white and sky blue. It was as if those colors foretold something between them; it foretold of a boy who was both pure and gentle, and then one who had a million things that they wanted to explore. Darkness. Lust. West was kind and had grown to be quite the brave soul, but he was still an Incubus. He needed to know what it felt like to submerge himself deep into someone's body, join flesh. He needed to know what it was like to take a bite from someone's skin.
Weeks later, Raphael had begun courting the boy. It was unwise of the crown prince to dabble with another man, and yet he did. Everyone knew, and they accepted it. It didn't matter to them. He would, they thought, eventually come to his senses. He'd marry a woman, produce a legitimate heir, then he could dabble with all the boys in Fraxen if they would have him. They would, everyone knew. Raphael had grown up to be desired by all, handsome and charming and very gallant. Not long after courting the young Jonathon Leislex, the two had fallen for each other quite handily. They would write poetry to one another, they would practice with their blades as they learned what it was to be a man. They rode horses together, worked with the soldiers. Though they always noticed something very peculiar; even for all of Jonathon's training beforehand, Raphael was so much better than him at everything. Jon was not a failure of a squire, not in the very least. He was told that he was very strong, a prodigious boy. And yet Raphael was always better.
Then, eventually the crown prince began to display some very odd things when they practiced that were certainly not human. He could erect magical barriers with very putrid energy, fling red blasts by swiping with his hand. Then eventually, when a forlorn arrow by one of the clumsy new squires had almost hit him in the heart, horns grew from his head and he completely annihilated the projectile with what... seemed to be a thought. But only Jon saw. He jumped over onto his prince and covered his secret before anyone could see. And so they -- awkwardly -- walked away to the grove they'd always gone to and he asked Raphael what he was.
In truth, he did not know. He only knew that he was different. That for his whole life all of the children had been afraid of him, but they were also all so drawn to him. That he was better at everything than everyone else. That he could awaken from his sleep, look behind him and see his body still lying. That he could look through other's eyes and live in their dreams. That he did not need to eat or sleep. That he was entirely, completely, different. And Jonathon smiled, and kissed him, and said that he adored him for his differences. That he was even more than he'd imagined him to be. And he was.
That night, the two of them entangled for the first time. They had been brought to the brink by their strong emotions, their curiosity, their teenage desire. And for the hour that Jonathon endured it was an exhilarating, wonderful, beautiful adventure for the two. But then he grew tired, and Raphael did not. The crown prince continued to invade his body, and for a time he allowed it without complaint, but then eventually he called no -- he asked that his prince stop. But he did not. Because he had lost himself. He was not Raphael or the prince at that time, but a demon that lived off of this moment. He felt that he would be no more -- and lose everything -- the instant it ended. He continued, and Jonathon grew weak. He began to retaliate, his screams doing nothing. He resisted, but Raphael pinned him down. The prince of raven hair and pale skin had appeared with red eyes and a grey complexion. Jonathon began to grow bloody. His body began to fail. His life began to fade. And Raphael watched, and he knew, and he kept going. He bit him, drained his blood. He enjoyed it. He had no opinion. He only enjoyed it.
Jonathon died.
It was said to be a hemorrhage that occurred simply by ill luck, something that could happen when two inexperienced young men engaged in such an affair. But Raphael knew that wasn't it. He killed him. Or something else inside of him did. And he was so terribly shaken over it. It had been an experience that marked him for life; he felt as if he were the greatest traitor, the worst killer, to ever come alive.
Isis slammed at the door. West ignored her, perhaps because he didn't hear her. Didn't feel her. He only felt his past, as if it were fresh against his face. He felt the same regret from so long ago. And then he remembered meeting Isis for the first time, how he was so strong back then. He was still fresh-faced and naive, but he was willing to endure the penalties for his naivety. The experience with his first lover had still jarred on his mind. He had lived a life of tragedy from that moment on. He must've fallen out of God's grace. What else could it have been? Ill luck? No. Luck was a contraption of the modern mind to escape predetermination. Michael must've hated Raphael. Sabal was lost. Everyone he loved was lost. He watched as Fenrir killed everyone around him. It must've been that Michael dreamed of a way to dispose of all the evil men and women of the world. And so he created the ultimate evil himself.
He was ultimately a broken individual, but the shambles beneath his skin piled together and glued into armor. His weakness was a strength for him, it made him reserve himself so that he could deal with all things. Raphael was so powerful, and engaging. Isis felt that about him. For the first time since she had become her monstrous self, she was not jealous of another or spiteful towards another, or indifferent towards another. She was completely shocked by him, who he was. She respected him. She knew that he would become a great man. That was evident in the shining look of her eyes, one that Lust noticed, that marked that their first meeting would be the beginning of an ultimately everlasting relationship. And so the creature handed her prize beast to the Emperor-to-be, saying goodbye to him and watching him fulfill his destiny the way she knew he would. Isis, by his side, let him kill all of the cold harshness that had come together from his pain and be a naive, weak, compassionate man again. She was his his armor. His blade.
But eventually she had come to realize that not even she could save him. That West was the only one who could. That he would have to grow strong again. Otherwise he would die unhappy, and young. He would fling himself from a tower and let the soil below claim him. She loved him for all that he was. But he didn't. And her words would do nothing anymore. They weakened him.
Eventually, she barged through the door and looked at him as he stared silently at that indigo curtain. Her face was torn, and she was ultimately shattered from outside and in. She looked at him, and she said: "West," she started,
"I can't be your strength anymore. I've taken all of your courage away from you and have left you half a man. Only you can make yourself happy, my Emperor. It's always been only you." She looked into his eyes, and her own gaze fell to the light that blazed from the lantern beside his bed. She cracked a smile, as her arms turned into long blades. She ripped herself through, her body becoming bits and pieces, nothing more. She loved West so much that she would do anything for him. And the only reason for that, was that she had always felt he was a part of herself. Everything she'd lost. It lived on inside him.
xxxxx - - -
When Isis fell, he did not react at first. He stared quietly, did nothing. Then his face grew sour, but not in an angry way. Just a tormented one. He asked himself if what had happened really did happen, or if it were an illusion by his demented mind, one born of a demon's lust, something that had learned to torment him for what must've been his life. It was not an illusion, though. It was real, he could see the energy spilling from her body, the grey blood leaking onto the floor from all her orifices. After some time, he shrieked, in a masculine tone but with the weakness of a young girl. He didn't understand: why would she do that?
And yet, somewhere inside of him, he knew. Part of the reason he was so tormented was that he knew exactly why she did what she did. She did it for him. She did it because he needed to grow strong once more. Stronger than he had ever been. He needed the ruthless heart that he once had. It wasn't for Aramil. Her decision was... entirely for him.
His eyes went wild. He calmed himself down, shut his eyelids. He thought deeply. Then when he realized he couldn't think straight, he just readied himself and left the room. The castle. He went to a bar that few knew, his mind racing but uncovering nothing as his transit took him there. This place was full of ignorance, the people here thirsty for less than knowledge, only what their bodies desired. They desired skin and sweat. It was a place for sex. It was a place that West wanted to be right now, he wanted to be driven to some man's house, a guy who wouldn't notice him so he could forget about pain and remember only the feeling of two bodies entwined.
A few minutes after he stepped inside and took a seat, a tall man with dirty blonde hair took a seat next to him. He had soft looking skin and sort of a metrosexual look to him, one that did him well. Though West didn't care about the face, only the body. Which quite fortunately didn't disappoint. But he didn't come because he wanted to have sex with West. Instead, he came offering him words. "Life's hard, isn't it?" He said. The demon looked at him inquisitively, then back to the alcohol before him. He sighed, and nodded his head. "Yeah. It always is." The young man smiled, and turned to face West completely. The demon didn't respond at first, but felt compelled to turn to him as well. They briefly looked into each other's eyes, and then the demon asked: "What's your story?"
It was an answer that deserved an incredibly long response, but people didn't often spend the time unveiling such a profound answer. Instead, he replied the best way he could without scaring West off. It wasn't too hard, as the Emperor in truth loved a bit of conversation. "My name's David," he started off. It was good to begin with a name, always, when asked for personal information. "And I'm a Nephilim." That honestly brought some surprised to West, as they were rare here. But he was enticed by the thought. He had been surrounded by evil for so long, then Antony came along and let him remember what it was to be surrounded by good people. He remembered Jon for a period of time, he remembered the purity. He looked into the Nephilim's eyes once more, this time seeking something. He wanted to see that innocence once again.
But the things he had seen, he could see no more. He didn't know if the world had gotten more evil or if he had simply grown cold. He just didn't know.
"You're a demon," he said. West immediately brought his guard up. He remembered; Nephilim could see darkness in someone. But he didn't attack immediately. He was calm. Which made West wonder why exactly he even approached him. "Not relevant to my story, though. I suppose I should restart." He cleared his throat, making the obligatory 'ahem' sound. "My name's David, and I'm a Nephilim. I was born in Fraxen, year 795. I'm twenty-one. When I was very young there was a prince that came to rule, his name was King Raphael the First. Then he was killed by dark creatures; vampires, werewolves. The whole nation began to weep. But then, years later he came back. A priestess of great power, one who was loyal to Michael and Fraxen's church, sought him out to return him to being. And then immediately afterwards he became a monster like the creatures who killed him. It turns out that he was actually a demon the entire time, and perhaps his father too. Which made my King a b*****d. The whole nation fell into disarray. It was very problematic." He stared into West's eyes intently, and the demon stared back. His fingertips were loosed, he was ready at any moment to smash a hole through this man's chest. His story... led to uncertain directions.
"I had been in training my entire life you see, as were most Nephilim. To fight for the good of the nation. I trained to kill unholies, just like Fenrir, the man who killed my prince. And eventually I was commissioned to kill the prince himself. I searched far and wide for this man, coming all the way to Aramil. And then I saw him, for the first time, standing beside his lover before a mass of crowds. He was tall and had pitch black hair. He was very attractive. I'd heard such a thing. A very dangerous power, though it wouldn't affect me. However as time went on I lost my desire to hunt this man. I realized that he was not in fact a monster. Years flew by, he became 'West'. Then later still, he declared Vangelism the state belief of Aramil, which had become my home. Then, I saw him one more time standing before a crowd, and there was something new. He had something seared into his flesh, it was like the word of God. It was a mark. And then I realized." He reached forward, and watched as the Emperor reeled slightly back. He avoided the touch. The Nephilim did not persist.
Instead, he spoke. "I realized that what we hear is a lie. That our ears are abused by men and women who lust for power, they distort the truth to press their agenda. Gaston is not a good man. He is ambitious, and would see my prince killed for something so trivial as a title. You are a good man. God has seen fit to prove it. And I have come to desire to meet you. I waited for a moment. I tried to find a time where I could see you, face-to-face. And it's here." He reached forward one more time, and finally, West allowed him to grab his hand. They both stared quietly. It was a very strange moment.
"I'm not a good man either," he said. His eyes directed down, and the tormented look returned. He was still so hurt... by everything. "I'm not a strong man, not a wise man. Don't mistake me for a new class of hero. I'm just one guy. I'm just as lost as everyone else." His voice, sounded frail. He felt his composure die out. With Isis gone, he felt vulnerable once more. It was draining. It was horrifying. "Maybe," he said. "And that's why God loves you, Raphael. He has always loved you for who you are. He loved you even when you lost sight of him. Because he never lost sight of you."
West had heard these words before, when he was young. He remembered them being so empowering. He remembered never feeling insecure because he could always recite to himself: God loves me. But as time went on it became less simple. He lost his faith, his ability to care for those words. He did not know that same relief when he basked in those words. But for the first time since then, he felt it again. The empowerment. He felt like he didn't have to be strong. And he didn't know why. He could only smile back to the Nephilim, and say: "You're right," With a bright voice. "It's nice to meet you, David," he said. "Likewise, West," replied the Nephilim.
West continued to speak to him for some time afterwards, and then offered to let him live in Villiath. He accepted the offer, and they went on to the palace. Later that night, after a long and disheartening discussion with Maria and Damon, West returned to his chambers to find David laying atop his bed. He had his eyes closed, and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Though he didn't recall letting him sleep in his room, he knew he didn't mind the company so without complaint he laid down next to the Nephilim. As he turned over to disarm the lantern, a hand grabbed him. He turned around and saw David staring into his eyes. He leaned in to embrace him. A long night ensued.
xxxxx - - -
Isis, 791-816 AF Once the Steward, Spymaster and Councilwoman of Aramil, the voice of Emperor West and the greatest woman to have ever served our nation. May she rest in the arms of our savior and find eternal peace.
Vys anatalier chemsavin demos alaktija. God watches over the true unspoken Queen.
As his eyes flashed over those words, they began to water. David, the new steward, was beside him. He was wearing a tuxedo, as was West. The two of them looked very distraught, David for his Emperor and West for the soul of his companion. He hoped to see her one day, the most loyal and dedicated person he had ever met. He would be glad to tell her his stories.
Watch over me still, Isis, he told himself. You will always be my strength.
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(KEVAI)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕ARAMIL! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:THE BLADE OF EVIL
It was a picnic. On the coasts of Aramil, there were four men, a woman and Damon's six sons. David had invited all of them because he loved the sea, the sand, the sky. He wanted to share it with them, these people who had experienced nothing outside of their castle for so long. The fourth man was one invited by West, he was the Duke of Ladow, a large territory in the southeastern region of Aramil's homeland. He was of Vaet Nocturnum, as were his people. Perhaps David asked West to bring him here so that he could change his mind. Perhaps he just wanted to see what he was like, and what he had in store for his most illustrious duchy. Whatever the case, it had long been forgotten while they sat staring at the setting sun. West wore an orange tank top with black board shorts, his feet bare of shoes. Damon was not surprisingly quite revealed. David was dressed as if this were a hilltop picnic rather than a coastal one. Maria wore a blue dress and some fancy jewelry. She was an old woman and of medial build, so she wasn't exactly going to strip down to a bikini. They talked and laughed, they smiled. David even convinced West and Damon to sing a duo together.
It was happy. It was nice.
West stared -- his face stoic -- out into the sea as Damon's sons covered his hair in sand. He didn't even notice. For some time he didn't see anything but the water. "What do you see out there, West?" David asked. He sat next to him and shooed off the young Incubus boys, attempting to catch a glimpse of his Emperor's eyes. The man heard him, and he responded, though his eyes kept trained. "Kaminae," he replied. "Kaminae?" The Nephilim inquired. He could not see her, not feel her. She was not there, she was somewhere far away. Unless West saw something that he did not.
"I see the great witch of the sea. A monster that could slay any man in the world. Even I can't kill her. A creature that prevents a coastal nation from using its coasts. She is a blight that has weakened us for a dozen years. That's all the ocean is to me anymore. It's her." It was fitting, considering she was 'the goddess of the sea'. She was all that it was; it was a monster that destroyed the innocent. West had come to hate her in time, even though that wasn't a very Vangelist virtue. It didn't matter. He hated her all the same.
"You could've finally evolved into a true rival of Fraxen if you had accepted her deal. An ultimately powerful Empire that would only grow with your colonies. The demons would have flocked to join your side. And yet you rejected her. It shows your bravery. That's what Antony saw. I admire it." The Nephilim stood from the sand, and reached out his hand, offering the Emperor to go with him. West looked up, his eyes leaving the water. He took David's hand, and stood up. He wouldn't mind going somewhere else, being shown something new. He quite honestly never had much time to explore his own nation. It was unfortunate.
The Nephilim nodded, and then waved to the the other people. "We'll be back soon. I want to show West something." He walked him away from the crowd, his eyes facing towards a forest by the sands. He was very eager to go there, and he dragged West along without expectations of complaints. The man followed out of curiosity, wanting to see what the angel had to show him. If it was anything at all. Maybe he just wanted to speak, in private, where nothing in the world could lay claim to the words.
When they had gotten deeper into the forest, some ten minutes afterwards, David settled by a meadow. He looked up to the sky and saw birds fly around him, then looked back at his Emperor and smiled. "Everything in the world was created for a purpose. Whether Michael's purpose or Kala's, it means something. It could be as simple as a blade to point towards an enemy. It could just be a demographic on a slip of paper. It could be a great prophet for either side. We can never know with the small things. But we can know a few things. For one, the sea wasn't made to serve the darkness, it was made to serve nature. Humanity. And then it was taken. But it can be retaken." He stepped away from the Emperor, and went to approach one of the plants, an exotic root that brought a rare flower alive. He plucked it from the stem, and stared into it. "Kaminae was born as a Mer, a creation of Michael. They were one of the first races created after the flood. Quite craftily, Kala managed to gain a monopoly on the sea by twisting one of them into a demon, the guardian of hell. And she made her so powerful that no one could ever come to stop her. Michael had already left the creatures on Axiom quite weak compared to what the humans before used to be. And it was too late to amend that issue to deal with Kala's hordes. He could no longer interfere. Extend a tendril and he would lose it, and be destroyed by this dark creature. She's so wise. So scheming. But we can be as well. Because we have one ultimate weapon that they fear for us to use." He turned around, he pointed at his Emperor. He threw the flower to the man, who quickly caught it.
"You. A demon that serves Michael. By nature you can enter hell. You've already done it several times. You do it every single night, you use it as a gateway into other people's minds. But you can go even deeper, into the sea of fire, and every demon's domain. You can find Kaminae in the place where she feels the most secure." He continued to pluck flower after flower from the plant. He threw them all to the center of the meadow, hastily doing so -- almost as if it had purpose. West, curious by this idea and by the man's strange and sudden habit, finally spoke. "If Kala can kill even Michael simply by him entering Axiom, how am I to go directly into her home and survive? That seems very strange a thought. And if I've been entering hell to invade other's dreams, then doesn't that mean literally every Incubus goes through hell in their sleep for their entire lives? How is it so easy? Doesn't the gate remain secure?" He had many questions, and David had many answers. One could wonder why he had them. Why he knew these things.
It was because he chose to know. To learn. To study; knowledge that had been kept sacred by the Nephilim for hundreds of years. They were not so naive as people believed. "Kala can't touch any of us. Neither can Michael. I don't know how it works, but you can just say that it's a rule. It's like a law of physics, or the universe or something. There are two planes: Axiom, and then everywhere else. The people here are untouchable by the creatures from elsewhere. Even if they enter the other plane, they're untouchable. I have no idea how that sort of thing came to be. It might even be a lie. It's just a theory. But it's been proven to be true, at least in the context that the guys from hell can't harm us. Not without taking a vessel at least." He shrugged. It was stranger to explain than it was to hear for the first time. It was just the only way to make sense of anything.
"I've heard similar things. Eklopyter told me that only a demon born on Axiom can hold a sin. That demons cannot contain creatures from beyond. And that vessels can only contain a maximum of power. It's rules, rules, rules. I could subscribe to this theory. I suppose it makes sense, then, that I'd be a valuable resource. I can travel through hell instantaneously after all. And if I can't be harmed, then that's swell. That's a lot of information I could gather. But of course, I'm assuming that this law doesn't make exceptions. Kaminae should be able to harm me all the same. And any other creature in there that was born on Axiom. There are billions of them. That sounds very risky." He didn't enjoy the prospect of being stuck in a burning pit with billions of things trying to kill you. He assumed that even if the demons couldn't kill him, they could at least watch him. That was not a pleasant thought. "Well," he started, "West, nothing in life is without risks. There will always be risks. You could have a piano fall on your head right now. I understand that it's different when you're actively throwing yourself to the wolves, but it's different in more ways than one. Risks equal rewards. You could find a way to kill Kaminae. As a result, you'll have your Empire restored. The Mer of Los Anthos can choose their own fate. The witch won't tyrannize millions of people for any longer. It will be as it should be." He stepped over to the man, and grabbed his hand. Another flower was shoved into his palm, and he brought it against his chest. The demon sighed.
"Then I'll go." He offered the Nephilim a brief hug, and picked up one of the flowers from the ground. He knew of a waystone near here. And so he went to it.
He tapped the stone, and then his vision went black, for just a moment. He awoke surrounded by darkness. Everything was pitch black. He could see only by using the sight of energy, though that energy was so distorted. It was boundless, and it looked as if every single spot was connected by the same vine. It all led to a great central figure, one that seemed literally infinite. It must've been Kala, or Makath. He used his energy to create light, since using his other senses was insufficient. From out of the darkness he then began to see, corpses. He saw horribly demented people. He saw walking cadavers and soon enough he began to hear their screams. Hell was a horrible place. He was not surprised by that.
He did not know which door led to what. As he walked through though, he was grabbed by some set of hands. When he looked back it was a woman, horribly deformed. In pain, and chained to a door. She did not seem angry or malevolent, however. She spoke to him. "You're not from here," she said. "You're from Axiom, like me. But you're a demon. So strange." She let go of him, and instead grasped on the knob of the door. "I was an agent of Michael. I served Fraxen when the demons rose in the north. My order told me to investigate. When I was there however, a powerful demon seduced me using dark magic. He forced me to say some binding words. He forced me to surrender my soul to him. And so I was bound to hell. Ironically I was sent to hell for serving, not shying from service. Michael has abandoned me here." Suddenly, she began to cry. West remained silent, staring at her. Then, she pointed at him. "You're a demon like him. A desire demon. You rabid animal. You rabid animal! You rabid animal!" She swiped at him, trying to claw him and dig her nails into his skin. He evaded every swipe, but he felt quite mortified. So that's what hell did to people. This.
After rebuking her, he opened the knob that was beside her. Beyond the door he was in a tropical rainforest. He heard toucans and monkeys and other strange things. He heard moans and screams in unity. He saw women straddling men, men holding other men, all sorts of fancies. He did not want to go further, because he felt that he already knew where he was. It was Lukhan's realm. He felt the same energy that he did when he saw Eklopyter for the first time. It was uncomfortable to be surrounded by the ones you betrayed, even if you did it for the good of others. He turned the nob to leave. But he was stopped. It was a man who was tall, tan of skin, black of hair. It looked like a demon; it looked like what West was here, its true form unveiled. He was muscular and attractive, he had golden eyes and sharp teeth. He recognized the energy entirely. It was Eklopyter. "It's been a while," he said. "The last I saw you, you had a very distinct look to you. Almost exotic. Darker skin, darker hair. Thinner, taller. But that wasn't your real face. It was just a want of yours to appear so. The real you, I'd say you're quite the man. Very macho. Blonde hair, sharp features. Less exotic, but attractive in the way that everyone wants. You look like such a reliable man, such a diligent man. People may dream of the exotic to quench their thirsts, but in the end everyone's fancies fall back to people like you. How lucky." He stepped forward, and pressed his nose against the man's cheek. He grinned, though West couldn't see it. "You remembered that Kaminae could hurt you, but you forgot about me. I was also born on Axiom, remember? I can kill you all the same." His fingers slid over across West's skin, and towards his heart. It would take just a moment to end it all.
"I won't, though. I like you, West. My father likes you too. In fact I'd say he's quite taken to you. He watches you all the time, as if you were his best new theatric. We desire demons don't do things the way other demons do. ******** Kala, right? She's a dumb slut who likes death too much. Got cranky because Michael turned the night light on when she was taking her nap. That's all it is. She has no invention to her. So dull." He pulled back, and offered West a shake. "Whatever team you fall to, you're still the same here. You're one of us." He beckoned for the man to follow, deeper into this 'jungle' that Lukhan called his domain. Everyone stared eagerly, hungrily at West as he went deeper in. The demon remained mostly quiet as he continued on. He was uncomfortable, fearful. He didn't entirely trust his Incubus brother. It was painful to say that, but unfortunately true. You really couldn't trust a demon. They were born and bred in self interest.
Eklopyter held out his hand, and grappled West to give him a very extended hug. The man awkwardly reciprocated, which caused the demon to laugh. He shooed the demons occupying one of the benches away, and compelled West to come with him. They took a seat atop a white sofa together, one that stood out amongst the tropical bearings. The demon wrapped his arm around West and looked at him. "What are you here for, West? There's purpose to your eyes, I can see that. You didn't come just to pay me a visit. Even an extended one." He laughed slightly, then waited for his fellow Axiom-born demon to speak.
"You spoke to me just half a moment ago about how I remembered something -- that Kaminae could hurt me. You know this, but don't know my intention for being here? Strange." He observed that. Eklopyter acknowledged that he was very observant. However that was only what Lukhan told him. He shared no more with his forlorn son. "I'm here to find a way to kill her. The sea witch. Unfortunately I've realized some time ago that I can't do it without a little assistance. So I came here looking for a way." He knew that Maria and Akeem were so urgently discovering the answer, as well as all of the operatives he had sent along with them, but there wasn't enough time for an ancient hunt. He needed something fast. Aramil needed it. Maybe the demons could help him. That was his hope, his gambit.
"I'll give you some help that will prevent this from going to waste. First of all, Kaminae gets her power directly from the gate of hell. It extends a sort of chain into her at all times that gives her a ridiculous amount of energy, and also hideously mutates her. However, the gate itself is an exceptionally generous soul. If it does not have a guardian, like her, the first thing it will do is create a new one. It will call others to it. Tempt them. Offer them ridiculous power. It's not wrong in that it will give that power to them, but it only does this to keep itself secure. If it spends too long without a guardian, then its stored energy will be forced elsewhere. It will open and release that power outwards. It will never again be able to close. But this has other implications. People will be able to enter it. And people will be able to leave it." That implication was horrifying for West.
If people could leave, then did that not mean billions of lost souls escaping to the world? Ghosts, monsters, horrible creatures. It would invite catastrophe far worse than Kaminae, an endless force that could destroy life on Axiom. That implication . . . it was horrifying. "Is it best to just . . . let her be, then?" He looked into Eklopyter's eyes. Then, the man shook his head. "Souls are power, West. If all the souls leave hell, then Makath and Kala will lose a tremendous amount. That will allow Michael to return to Axiom again, as she will be weaker than him. The implications of that are incredible. In an instant, your war could be won. He could undo all of her work. Kaminae is the key to Kala's power. Her death is essential."
He told West what was apparently the truth, and so freely. He was a demon who seemed interested in Michael emerging victorious. It was strange, but West was not surprised. The demons didn't want eternal darkness. They wanted pleasure and action. Perhaps they dreamed of a world where angels, demons and men could walk the world freely. It could be that way, if only Kala did not exist. "Where did you learn all this? From Lukhan?" He asked. The demon shook his head, and smiled slightly. "No. From this-" He reached into his pocket, and handed West an old sheet of paper. It was one of the pages, that would reveal the way to destroy the wretched Queen. "Now, you should get going. It's best you don't stay here long." He let go of West, and in response the demon stood up and made for the door. He waved a good-bye to Eklopyter, and all the others in immediate vision. Before he left through the door, his last sight was of an exceptionally tall and attractive creature standing far in the distance, watching him. He had white hair, and red eyes. He knew who it was. Lukhan.
- - -
He awoke from what he could consider a sleep, his eyes darting around. He was covered in leaves, and when he shoved them aside, he saw David staring at his face. "Don't be a creep," he said. "I figured you might be there for a while, and I didn't want to move you. I also didn't want to have to stand here for three weeks, so hey. I covered you in leaves. Not the best defense mechanism, though. I probably would've added a wild bear or two to the scene. That'd really scare invaders off." He helped the Emperor up, and immediately spotted some nice paper in his hand. Must've been what he was looking for. "What did you learn?" He asked.
"Where do I begin?"
There would be a lot of time to study it all; learn what they could from the words that covered the pages. But more importantly, he learned about the gate. About the nature of it. About her connection to it. And he learned the ultimate end-game of this project; that when all was said and done, billions of monsters would walk. Kala would weaken. This was a mission on the celestial scale. That was, in truth, a horrifying thought.
But it did beg to ask something. If an Emperor cared for his nation, would he allow this all-consuming darkness to emerge? It meant Kaminae's death, and the return of Michael. All of that would be wonderful for the world, over time. But at the risk of so many people in the present. As a man with power, he had to be decisive. And so he had to narrow his mind to these two extremes; debilitation and fear for all time, or strength and war for what must be a thousand years.
The Wild Hunt generated a random number between
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Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 2:15 pm
3,600 words - 1 page, 1/2 chance of 2 pages
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nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(KEVAI)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕ARAMIL! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:CHAMPION OF ANTONY
I'm swimming, I'm swimming. I'm drowning. It's a sea. I'm lost. I'm found. I don't know. I don't know where I am. I don't know who I am. Am I Raphael? Am I West? Am I the Emperor? I need to know now. There's not much time. I'm drowning for sure. Everything I've worked for will end. Isis, I need your strength.
"...Emperor West! Emperor West!" They screamed. He couldn't hear them all too well, not first or second yelp. After a while though, their voices became clear to him. His eyes did more than flutter -- they opened, and allowed him a vision of their faces, albeit blurred. "Wha...?" He tried to ask, though the sound was incomplete. They responded with smiles, cheers, laughter. Three maids and two doctors. Who were they? Why were they here? Was West not drowning beneath the sea, crushed beneath Kaminae's heel? Why was he... in Aramil again?
The doctor -- the first of them -- approached him. He stood tall before him and very plainly said: "West, there's not much time to explain. You were struck with a deadly poison, the result of your spymaster's plot. David. It is often the one that we trust the most that betrays us. He revealed himself to be one of Gaston's elite; he lured you into recovering pages and revealing detailed information about Aramil, then poisoned practically all of your belongings. When you went ill, he proceeded to slaughter the chancellor -- Maria, then the steward, Damian. Akeem is the only one in your court that still remains, and he is nowhere to be found. Gaston took the throne. He declared you dead, and he was your legitimate heir. Fronta is now Fronta-Aramil. A hyperpower. They already possessed the other sixteen pages. They go now to kill Kaminae." The news was urgent, and so he spoke urgently. West was still very weary, so he did not know how to comprehend it very well. His first thought brought him to Damian, and his many sons that must either be fatherless or dead.
That was a pure tragedy. He couldn't help but see the Nephilim and their very holy Empire to be very rotten. He couldn't help but wish on them the same as Damian. Then, his thoughts went to Maria, and her cunning. Then to his throne, and to his nation. Gaston sought to take it all from him. And what power did he have to resist him, now? Did the people really want another uprising? Would they take his side, or would he sit there alone? Perhaps he could not ask such a question. He knew, somewhere, always -- he knew that only he could really lead Aramil to the place it belonged. He knew that his people had faith in him, no matter what they said. He knew he was loved. He knew he belonged here.
He inhaled a deep recess of air, something he had not been able to rightfully do in a long time. He tried to think -- properly, yes. He didn't know if his mind was as muddled as his body was, but the effects of the poison were fading quite quickly. He was a demon, not a weak man. The physical world could not destroy him with something so meager. He thought David knew that. Perhaps he wanted him to live, somehow, and for some reason. Perhaps so that he could execute him in his weakened state.
"We can't let Fronta kill Kaminae. Doing so will allow them a show of supreme power and prestige. In all my years I have never been able to put an end to her. If they do it, right now, then the people will be monopolized to their side. We must retrieve the pages. Then... I can find Maria, and Akeem, and the three of us can end her together." He wasn't sure how he could do this. That would involve infiltrating their highest echelon. He could change his appearance, but not conceal his energy. Their seekers and spotters would notice him in a moment. In fact, he was surprised they didn't notice him already. They must've been very far and potentially very deeply submerged. He'd find that out as he left. "Ah, yes, Akeem and the Draconian. Do you think you could find them with Pride? We have been completely incapable of locating them. We thought they might be able to fend off the invasion, but they completely dispersed. It's unfortunately been just us this entire time." The doctor spoke solemnly for some reason.
One thing that West wondered was -- who were these people? He'd never seen them before. How could he have attained such loyalists from people he didn't even know? People willing to keep and protect him for all of this time instead of simply selling him out? He'd never sensed their energies before, either. So how did they -- of all people -- recover him from his sleep? They must've only came to Villiath after he'd already been poisoned, and then explicitly to obtain him. But two doctors and some nurses could never manage something like that. They were defenseless. David would've simply killed them, or traced them. West figured this was a perfect time to discover the truth. He used Omniscience, since they wanted him to anyway. And then... that was when he saw it, that subtle trace that they wouldn't have wanted him to notice. They were concealing their energy using some sort of blanket, possibly their suit. But there was one tiny amount leaking out. Grasping through the vines, he could feel the amount back to its source.
And... holy God. These doctors... these nurses... they were beyond powerful. They were not Adepts, or Experts. No, they must've been Masters. All five of them. Elite warriors that could -- collectively -- kill him in moments in this state. He did not know if seduction would work either. He supposed it probably wouldn't. Or, what if they only figured he was like other Incubi, capable of seducing those significantly weaker? What if they didn't anticipate that he could do it to -- virtually -- everyone but his equals? He didn't know if it was worth the try. If he failed, he might die instantly. He had no Isis. Pride's transformation wouldn't do much for him here. He... was cornered.
They must've wanted him to reveal more. To reveal Akeem's location so they could take him down too -- and to reveal Maria's. To reveal information about himself that would forever shame him, like why his appearance changed from that of his regular manly and dark-shaded self. He would not reveal any of that. That was giving in to their game. "Before I search extensively for my King and Queen... I'd like to tell you something, doctor. Something I haven't told anyone but Isis, who unfortunately has been lost to us. I don't anticipate that I'll live much longer. There's no way I can survive the might of Fronta alone. They played their cards perfectly. They made me so complacent... pretending the Gods would protect me. Pretending that Antony, Solaris and Elessia even cared. In reality, that was a part of the scheme. They made me... believe... that I was loved. And it was all so they could obtain Aramil without even going to war. By simply poisoning me instead of taking me on in direct combat. Yes... it was cruel, harsh of them -- and genius. I envy their ability to scheme as they do." He smiled slightly, and stood up from his bed. He stepped away from the doctors and the nurses, grabbing onto a cup of wine though refraining from drinking it. He was not sure what the contents might be.
They watched him closely, wearily. He turned back to them and began to speak yet again. "When I was growing up, I was Gaston's big brother. He respected me, he loved me. I would watch over him and give him warm kisses and hugs. I'd change his diaper and play with him and protect him from the dangers of the world. However it seems as if he was the danger of the world the entire time. He never desired the prospect of me going off to rule my own land. He always wanted it all. Yuran, Kevai, Aramil, South and North Fronta. He wants the world. And the truth is... I don't blame him. Because I -- I want the world too. And I'll be taking it shortly." He revealed a trace of energy beneath his fingertips that grasped the cup of wine -- from that connection, the Dimension Door formed. He stepped through, and then let it be forever shut.
--exit--
Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2014 11:16 pm
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineALL I HAVE ` IS MY FAITH♕》ANDMYNATION! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(ARAMIL)*⇣LORD OF♕KEVAI! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:ملك الجن
Akeem stood before a mirror, naked save for the odd necklace that hung about his neck. His golden eyes stared into themselves from the reflection and slowly trailed down. The prong of Belfast felt cool against his flesh. It caught what little light poured through the heavy curtains he had drawn about the windows. The metal felt alive, awake, even sentient. At times when he felt he was alone it would pulsate. The faintest of waves would brush over his skin, kissing it as softly as a new lover. He would always shiver, whether out of caution or the yearning for its power he did not know. Akeem had kept it not as a trophy but as a constant reminder of what he had learned on that day. A sigh escaped his lips and he tore himself from his own sight. He marched across the floor and sank onto his bed, letting the plush cushions pull him in. Since he became king he had been unable to rest well. At first it was the constant worry. There were millions of matters that needed his attention and they were ever present. First it was repairs of the city, food shortages, and even rebellious citizens. Akeem had to sign off on every single thing and he realized then why King's had a council. The next thing that kept him up at night had been the need to hand select members of his advisory. It had been disconcerting for him to see how quickly the people came with compliments and gifts, with false promises and hopes of becoming close to him. Akeem quickly found himself yearning for the days of old, when people were honest and straight forward with him. Each night he put his head on his pillow he was wracked with an anxiety that in the morning Aramil would be gone, blown away in the wind as if it had been dust. But his latest issue was just how soft his bed was. Akeem was used to roughing it, sleeping in barracks or even on the ground. This entire palace was so incredibly luxurious it was very off putting. Before when he had just been on the royal guard it didn't bother him as much. He could still rest with the other men and women who served. Now every thing, from the softest blanket to the sturdiest of pillars, was his. That was something he'd have to get used to.
After the battle with Kaminae the Djinn had walked through the streets of his city. The Bulwark, Bastion, had chosen to walk alongside him. He took his human form and stood close to Akeem the entire way. All sorts of people cheered and praised him. "King of the East! King! East!" They had shouted over and over, taking it up as a chant. But Akeem took very little pleasure in this. He remembered the look on Maria's face as she took up arms against her own people. Each time he met the eyes of a citizen it was hard for him to hold the gaze. Would he be enough to carry on the legacy that was left behind? What would Akeem leave himself? He hoped to be a ruler worthy of West's trust, but doubt was around every corner. Akeem rolled onto his back and shut his eyes tightly, letting himself slip away into the embrace of sleep. Slowly he became aware of himself. Akeem was standing on the beaches of Aramil, the sand warm between his toes. An ornate vest covered his chest and silken pants held on loosely to his hips. The weight atop his head --a hand reached up to be sure-- was a crown pressing upon him. The sun was sitting low on the horizon, casting a glorious display of oranges and yellows and golds. He knew why he had come here, there was one who he wished to see. "West, come to me" Akeem spoke to the winds, letting them carry his message to the his emperor, his friend, his lover. With a gasp the King sat up in his bed. This power was new and alien to him, he hadn't ever used it before. Akeem wasn't even sure it would work. He got up and paced out of the want to keep from being idle and ended up at the window. Grasping both curtains he pushed them aside, letting the cool sea air wash over him as he waited.
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(THE SOUTH)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕THE EAST! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:CREDO IN DEUM PATREUM OMNIPOTENTEM, CREATORM CAELI ET TERRAE
He had been waiting for this for a long time; a moment where he could see his Djinn, his "marshal" that now stood as the King of what West once was. You could say that, despite the world coming to something of an end, West had been exceptionally blessed. He had managed to reclaim the throne of Fronta, restore the Fraxon Empire, tighten his alliance with Alistair, and ultimately take part in the death of one, and directly kill another of his two greatest enemies; Kaminae, and Gaston. Things were unlike ever before. It felt as if -- finally, after so long -- his plans had come into fruition. Now, he saw everything differently. He wasn't afraid anymore, of being destroyed by those two facets or being hated by the people that once adored him. Instead, he longed to live the best that he could with the Empire he'd restored. That wasn't to say he did not fear at all, however. He did fear for one person in particular: Akeem. In just a moment, and without any practical training in regards to the role, he had been placed atop two thrones; all of the Eastern Lands belonged to him.
Akeem was not particularly ambitious, either, so West knew that this was most likely unwanted. He did not feel right about it. In fact, he'd been constantly anxious over whether this was the right choice. He loved Akeem, and trusted him more than anyone. That was why he wanted him to take the throne. But -- he knew better than anyone what sort of fear, and pain, and responsibility came with it. Even West, who had been born and raised to lead, had never felt at ease with his position. He could only imagine what Akeem might be feeling right now. He wanted to imagine, to sympathize, to make it better. He searched for the man in his dreams, reaching out for his thoughts so that they might intertwine. And then, after some time of longing, the night's sky changed to a brilliant gold, as if touched by the sun. He found him, and he heard him. Come to me, he asked. West was perfectly willing to oblige.
With permission, an Incubus could do as they pleased to your mind and your body. That was why, in many places in Aramil, people were taught from early childhood to never use certain words in the presence of an alluring man: I accept, come, you may, so on and so forth. The result could only be positive for the Incubi, who enjoyed the warped reality that they could then preside over. The one that they would manipulate, however, would often receive a far less enjoyable experience.
But this time, it was different. West only had desires to make Akeem happy, and so he would. The world around the Djinn shifted, the curtains becoming leaves and vines and the surrounding area a field of debauchery; a lake of wine to the north, Maenads and Satyrs to the south with their enchanting music and their wild games, and an all-encompassing light to the west and the east. Suddenly, the music began to grow louder. It became more erratic; more wild, more vicious, more lustful. You could hear the Maenads laugh and the Satyrs grunt, and very visibly they began to break out into total and complete deviation.
Then, Akeem would begin to feel a rise in his blood. He would feel hands against his skin, ones he could not see, or interact with. He would feel hot breath against his neck, and a kiss to his collarbone. Then, the light from around him would slowly, surely close in and cover it all. The music faded and shifted into a regal, romantic tune like from the late industrial age - it was something of a jazz, but without any of the blues, in fact it was hard to make out the words at all. They were faded. Everything was. Akeem would barely be able to see, and yet he would feel absolutely content.
Finally, he would feel arms around him. These ones, he could see. He could interact with them. The man that had arrived behind him, with a muscular figure and deep, tan skin, was Emperor West. He whispered into his ear, "My love." He felt further around his flesh, embracing him as surely as he could, trying to make him feel the comfort that he once offered West. He whispered again: "I'm here."
Posted: Thu Sep 18, 2014 11:48 am
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineALL I HAVE ` IS MY FAITH♕》ANDMYNATION! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(ARAMIL)*⇣LORD OF♕KEVAI! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:ملك الجن
Before his very eyes the world was changing. Surprised, he withdrew his hand from the curtains as they turned to leafy vines. The walls of the castle crumbled away and revealed a blood red lake. Music harkened upon his ears and to the south danced and played creatures he had never seen, only heard tales of. He raised a hand to shield his eyes when a light so brilliant shined so brightly to the West, and the East. It seemed to bathe this world in warmth and comfort. His musings were lost on him when the joyous music pushed past his thoughts, overwhelming his mind with how loud it had become. Akeem turned at the sounds of flesh on flesh to behold those mythical creatures engaging in open and uncaring lovemaking. The djinn found his throat dry suddenly and he swallowed, unable to take his eyes from the scene before him. His body felt hot and flushed and he suddenly needed to wipe his palms upon his legs. A pressure on his chest, then his abdomen and thighs left Akeem frozen in place. Something was freely exploring his body and he was inclined to let it do as it pleased. He rolled his head back to expose more of himself at the kiss and then everything was changing once more.The lights washed over him and took him away from the fields of pleasure, leaving him in a room that he could barely make out. He could hear the melody of more music, it was soft and made him feel content. It did not matter what it was saying so long as it felt right.
Akeem had let it envelope him completely and in his little dream state he basked in a serene zen. Once more he felt someone touching him, but this time he knew it to be real. He exhaled deeply as West wrapped him in his embrace. From it -- and he was completely sure of it -- Akeem felt a compassion he had not felt for many years. He reached behind him and pushed his fingers through West's hair before turning in the man's arms. Golden eyes searched the demon's face. Without a word the djinn leaned forward and planted a soft kiss upon West's lips. Of course it was him, even if he did look diffeent. Akeem could feel him. He brushed the back of his fingers across West's cheek and spoke just above a whisper. "I had feared that Fronta was too far away, that the great ocean would prove too large a distance for us to continue..." Akeem smiled sardonically and waved his hand through the air. "This. But I see now, that it doesn't have to be. In this way we can still be close, no matter how many miles separate us." Akeem's eyes had lingered on West's lips, on the shape of them and every curve. He brushed his thumb across them before smiling faintly, a soft look passing onto his face. Akeem leaned in for another kiss but this time he pressed his body forth. It would have been passionate and delicious and all it should have been, but the necklace pushed against the both of them, a shock of cold through all the warmth.
Akeem stepped back a bit and turned his head to the side, looking far past the interior of the room. His expression was blank, but his hands had balled into fists. "Do you know, West, what they call me now?" There had been absolutely no escaping it. The people had tossed aside Akeem's name and christened him anew. He hadn't expected it, maybe to be referred to as the King or even Malek. But no, perhaps it had been destined. Golden eyes flickered in the night till they peered out through the darkness. "East." He let the word hang between them for a moment as if he was surveying it. Letting it weigh upon him and press all the expectations right up against him. Everyone was looking for Akeem to take up exactly where the Emperor had left and continue to bring glory and peace and perfection along with him. It was daunting to say the least.
The King of the East shifted his stance and looked upward, closing his eyes as he brought forth the feeling of dread he had felt. "Akeem, you are in the most danger." He shivered despite the temperature and shook his head slowly. "I faced oblivion, tasted the abyss." His voice wavered for but a moment until it steeled with the courage only one who stared death in the eyes and lived could have. "And I was terrified that I wouldn't...that I hadn't left my mark upon this world." Maybe it was a foolish and even shallow want. Surely Akeem would have been remembered by many, or at least a few. He seemed to hold onto this next part, apprehensive and filled with a caution that West would think him silly. "When a parent dies, it is said that the child feels his own mortality. But when a child dies, what is it that the parent feels?" The question was rhetorical of course. Akeem had felt this terrible notion seven times over, eight now since the duel with Kaminae. "It's immortality that they feel disappear." The djinn reached up and scratched at his beard in thought, lost in what had drove him to isolation for almost a century. But he had made peace with what he did, accepted his greatest transgression and made it apart of him. Akeem held his hands out to his sides, fingers splayed and palms down as if he was holding them just above the surface of water. "But I feel it once more. That presence beyond death and decay. In every person who walks through Aramil, Kevai, and even Amaranthine. I feel my chance to leave my mark. Now, I only fear it will be a scar instead of something to be smiled upon." His arms dropped to his sides, it was all out now. Maybe West would see fit to remove him from the throne now that he knew just how deep Akeem doubted himself. He reached up and grasped the prong of Belfast tightly, as if all life depended on it.
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(THE SOUTH)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕THE EAST! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:CREDO IN DEUM PATREUM OMNIPOTENTEM, CREATORM CAELI ET TERRAE
The Emperor smiled as the man reached up and kissed his lips, responding in turn as he tried to control his breath; a large part of him could not, mixed with strong emotions and desires that had been suppressed for a very long time. He had not seen someone in the same light he had Akeem, not since he laid with him that night. He missed him -- it was hard to remove him from his mind. He didn't want to. Didn't need to. "No miles separate us, nor will they. I would not have burdened you the seat if it would keep you from me. I had to be sure that I could still have you at my side. I had to be sure that you could still have me at yours. And I always have this way. If you seek me in your dreams, I can be made real in the flesh. This isn't an illusion. I'm with you now. It only seems as if it's a dream." He didn't want it to seem fake -- it wasn't. One of the most defiant abilities of the Incubi would be the power to instantly manifest in another place, if there is someone willing to accept them. Getting home was another issue, but he didn't care. He could install a waypoint there, if he had to. What mattered was that he had the ability to be with his General, his King, his Akeem.
He listened to the words fall from his lips, of what others began to hail him as. East, he said. That thought almost brought some laughter to him, but instead he allowed Akeem a silent gaze before indulging into his body -- his hands felt his inner thighs, his lips pressed against the flesh of his neck. His passions were so inflamed that his mind could not make out words to speak. He just wanted to feel, and make the man feel. "East," he said quietly, in-between his array of kisses against the man's chest. His palms had been continuously stroking his inner-thigh for a long time, hoping to incite a vibrant reaction. He did not go further, though -- not yet at least. He wasn't here to sleep with the man and leave. He wasn't acting the way he did because he wanted to blindly jump into sexual relations. Instead, he was acting the way he did because it was the only way he knew to show the passions that boiled up inside of him. Words came only slowly and quite difficulty when they were blocked by a more compelling force; love, and the chemical reactions of love.
"Aramil is a rising power. One day, when Amaranthine may be colonized again, it will surpass Fronta in resources, land, population and prestige. I would never have given this land up to anyone, even just a few years ago. I would have taken Fronta and Aramil, and even if it would have killed me, I would have done my best to lead them both. After meeting you, however, I no longer had to be afraid. No matter how powerful you may become, and no matter what sort of world this turns out to be, I do not believe you would ever betray me. You are as Isis was -- loyal even beyond life and death. I loved her for it. And, Akeem -- I love you too. I'm glad that you could be the East to my West. I couldn't imagine any other man on the seat." The man didn't know how else to phrase it -- the sort of trust he had for Akeem. He didn't know if perhaps he made it sound rather selfish, speaking as though the love stemmed only from the loyalty, and not Akeem's own personal qualities.
That wasn't the case. But for a man with issues on the level of West's, the inability to trust or believe in anything after a lifetime of betrayal, Akeem's resolve was something he had come to admire. He'd come to covet it as if a sacred gem. He'd come to love the man that possessed such a kind and honorable soul. He would never let him leave his side. He would kill anyone who sought to hurt Akeem. And he certainly wouldn't allow him to hurt himself, either.
"You won't fail this nation. I know you won't. It'll be different than when I lead it. It will be more... peaceful." He smiled at the thought; he hoped Akeem could, too. The worst had come to pass, for those in the East. It was now the angels and the demons that warred, but they did so far from Aramil's grasp. "Gaston is gone, Kaminae is gone, at your hands. The people will hail you as a legend. You belong on this throne, you who delivered them from that monster. The Mer will deify you. The Incubus will chase after your affections like beasts to livestock. The humans will be content to know that they are reunited with their home -- with their kind. A golden age begins for you. You don't have to be afraid. Just let it happen." He didn't know if that would dispel the worry from Akeem, but it was worth a try. And it was true.
Akeem would be a great leader, and he would lead a great nation. West was a confident man and he was positive that he had not made the wrong decision. He just hoped that Akeem could feel the same. He knew that he'd always been afraid of leading -- he didn't want to lead Kevai, and this was three times the load. It was something to fear, surely, but also something to rejoice in. For both of them.
"You've always wanted a family, Akeem. You have it now. You and I stand as the fathers of the Fraxon Empire, and all four hundred million of them are our children. We have to make them happy. We have to protect our people in the face of this rising darkness. Do you feel that?"
Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 7:54 pm
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineALL I HAVE ` IS MY FAITH♕》ANDMYNATION! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(ARAMIL)*⇣LORD OF♕KEVAI! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:ملك الجن
Even if it hadn't been real Akeem would have enjoyed it. West acknowledging this as reality merely made it feel that much more potent. When his strong hands pressed against Akeem's flesh it brought on a rise charged with more energy than some dream could ever bring. It seemed absolutely absurd to the djinn that West had ever considered he would leave his side. Long ago a soldier had pledged himself to a king, and that bond would never break. Had the man before him chosen another instead, Akeem still would follow him to the ends of the earth, through the gate of hell -- and beyond -- if he could. For better or worse, West and East were stuck together.
One thing Akeem had always enjoyed about West was how easily he could craft an epic or a ballad or a novel with just the words coming out of his mouth. He felt elated to hear him say these things, to know West had faith and love and pride inside of him. This man who was so much more than that had gifted Akeem with his trust. He placed an entire side of the world in his hands and believed that he would not be let down. West had given Akeem something he thought he'd never have again. It took the djinn awhile to say to be able to say anything. A lump had formed in his throat and his chest felt so incredibly tight with emotion. So instead he gazed into West with eyes freely tearing up. He had his arms loosely holding the incubus against his body, pressing the two of them together and not allowing even an inch of space. "I do not really know how I will do this. There is so much riding on my every word, and a single declaration could send this nation spinning out of control." Kings, Queens, Emperors and Empresses all had a serious burden to bare. Those who dreamed of one day sitting the throne thought only of the treasures and prestige that would befall them, never the responsibility. But Akeem knew now that he was not alone. "If they see me as a hero, a liberator, a king; I shall be just that. I will lead and shoulder the weight of all these people." As soon as the words left his lips it felt as if they were written in stone. He would burn that sentence into his brain and call upon it whenever he felt weak or inadequate. This was his duty.
The mood shifted after that and Akeem was looking at West like how one would examine a diamond. He took in parts of his face, chest, eyes, everything. Akeem tightened his embrace and leaned in to his West, nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck. Here he took in his scent and the smooth feeling of the Emperor's skin beneath his lips. Not once had West used his seduction against Akeem. He had never fitted him with blind devotion and doe-eyed tailored love. This -- whatever it was -- had grown of its own volition. It was no creation from above nor below. Their love had been forged in the fires and emerged a gem that no other rivaled. Akeem would covet it with all his might, give everything he had to West if he so desired. "I feel it West. But I want to feel you."
The djinn could wait no longer. It has been said time and time again that after a battle a man wanted only to feel that rush. Akeem had tasted the end and danced with death, now he wanted to experience the scorching passion from all things West. His lips fervently left wet marks up West's neck and finally his tongue dove into the man's mouth. Worries and fears faded away at the arrival of heady sensations. Akeem grasped West by his shoulders and roughly pushed him back into the wall, quickly closing the gap and letting their bodies collide again. Needing hands pulled and writhed about, touching everything they could reach. Akeem caught West's wrist and used it to turn the man around, kneading himself against his desire demon. He pinned the wrist above West's head and nibbled at his ear. In a voice filled with all the things Akeem wanted to do he spoke in the harsh language of demonica. "Let us do battle."
A faint smile
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 6:49 pm
"A letter would arrive for Akeem. It read that he was called for by the Empress of Kenai on her deathbed. That she had not much time but with Zachariah's army receding finally she could rest and ask a favor. It was a vauge message, however. One he would need to heed soon. By the time he got there... no telling what state she would be in..."
Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2015 1:13 am
Forever the young Damion of the Great House of Fraxon would walk with humble yet strong forbidding steps as he would open the great doors that would enter into the palace. Having just recently been birthed with his two sisters, he alone stood to be the heir by gender. The patriarchy with their father Wes was just that strong, while with Akeem he would seem to treat them all with love equally. Damion himself quite loved his sibling sisters and would do anything to protect them, while one was a swarmhost and he felt she could protect herself, the other was merely a half-blood djinn zerker while he was a djinn-incubus hybrid zerker. His little sister had also not yet found her talent for battle. Such things made him worried, if she lost on the battlefield, he would not only lose a sister but the family would lose prestige and the people and soldiers may lose moral. Even worse Akeem could seek revenge and die and in the process lose even more moral and power.
He waved such trivial thoughts away but did indeed keep them in the back of his mind for the pure purpose of being diligent and prepared for the worst. He would slowly walk to what would be a map of the regions and muse over it, ignoring and oblivious at first of anyone else in the room(s) as he looked to the maps. The war was going slightly south, despite the fact that we had legends on our side and such numbers and size, Zachariah was just strong and his army of real demons formidable, to say the very least. He would not get to take part in the glory of that, so what could he do that would be legendary and make him a legend and further prove the great names of Gilleti-Malik?
This region, known as Amaranthine seemed to be bothersome. Monsters of all sorts were spawned here and his family had managed to create a small safe zone but the monsters still ran rampant. At this point he decided, to prove his worth he would eventually travel there once stronger, and he would lead a small army of hand picked soldiers of his choosing and destroy the gateways and nests that they spawned from. He would create more towns and establish more safe zones and add to the kingdoms greatness. Perhaps he could even send tamers there and have them learn and understand the monsters. Make them learn how to control them and add them to their war efforts. It would certainly increase the kingdoms power, he would muse while rubbing his hairless chin with his right arm.
Energy 825 Stats 11/10 [+2 Flying] ProfileDjincubus Passives
• The Demon's Dance The way the Incubus seduces others with their charms. Regardless of rank, the affected will find it very difficult to deny them. If the subject is two ranks lower then the user, they're automatically seduced. The higher ranks can be seduced as well, but it'll be more difficult. Once captured the target focuses only on the Incubus, sort of like tunnel vision blocking out the surroundings. To clarify, seduction is energy. It is not eye-sight or hearing based. It's an aura that pushes outwards and seduces people. It can't be blocked by barriers/etc. People seduced will not attack you, and you can basically force them to do things depending on what you say. They won't hurt/kill themselves or attack another person.
• The Game This can only be applied to someone the Incubus has met before. Since Incubi appear simply as men, it's impossible to tell them apart from others. The moment you interact with them, they can register your desires. They'll remember you, and discover the aches and wants of your body. They'll know what sort of kinks you're into, and what type of person you like. They can use this to seduce you in person, or they can use it to manifest in your dreams. They'll send a little fraction of themselves to wherever you lay your head at night, and corrupt your body with their touch. When a victim is stronger and more able to resist them, they'll stick to beautiful and elated imagery to keep you hooked on your fantasy world. Timid and fearful victims will often be tormented with their desires, controlled by them rather than gifted them.
When a victim is truly infatuated with their fantasies, or crippled into submission by them, the Incubus has the power to manifest their spirit completely. They will then loom over them, and please their bodies however they want. This is most often used simply for the personal satisfaction of an Incubus, but can also be used for assassination purposes; ie, if the Incubus has reason to kill the target he's seduced, he will. The Incubi cannot use this ability to teleport to people while in combat, or to teleport to people who are in combat. The opponent will not suddenly be alarmed by the Incubi, but worked into it. They'll know they're coming, and will eagerly await them.
• Three Wishes Up to three times per fight, the djinn may manipulate the force around an attack to redirect it for two ranks less in energy. This can only be done on skills of one rank higher than them. This is an extremely powerful passive of the djinn, an intelligent djinn capable of using it to largely make up for their vulnerability to ranged magic. It can also help to leave an enemy open in close-quarters combat.
• Mind Games The Djinn have a permanent 'force' around their skin that will reduce incoming damage by a rank (excluding holy and unholy magic). This puts them on the same level of base defensibly as a werewolf, although they can't regenerate, so... At adept rank, this force can become amplified by the Djinn's mind, psychomanually controlling the level of force in the layer of magic. They can apply energy to it to block all manner of attacks, meaning they don't really have to learn defensive abilities. It is really no more potent than any other defense of its rank, though
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2015 3:32 pm
The Divine Forrester
Today had been a surprisingly slow day in the nation of Aramil. Each day the King in the East held court with everyone who had some sort of problem that needed to be solved. Everyday. It was tiresome work but it belonged to him. Akeem had a duty to his people that he took very seriously. There had been two cases and that was all. For once Akeem had a refreshing moment alone, a time to hone his body. His temple was his one true tool in battling, Akeem treated himself well. Everyday he trained and retrained and practiced. He never polluted his body with self harming substances. It was his time for clarity and peace. But finally, there was something else he had a duty for. Not to himself, not to his nation and not even to West. After over a century of self inflicted solitude he finally had the one thing he wanted more than anything else; A family. Even thinking about it made his chest constrict. How had he gotten so lucky to have come across West and be raised to this position. That man knew what lay within Akeem's heart of hearts and he removed the greatest shame from the djinn's body. No longer did he have to kill in order to bring life into the world. Huffing out a great puff of air as he walked through the halls of his palace, the man recalled all the events that had transpired in the last month and felt almost more exhausted than the workout he had just put himself through. Akeem had been meditating when his trusted advisor brought him a message, a solemn look upon her face. "I'm sorry, King Malek. Dark wings, dark words." He hesitated when she said that, fearing what could be in the letter. Had Kaminae revived in some way? Was there an invasion? He could not wait. Akeem nodded his head slowly and collected the letter. It took him reading over the missive four times before it actually sunk in. It seemed as if the words were swimming before his eyes and he could not catch a hold of them. Maria Kal was dying. The warrior fell to his knees, looking no stronger than a little boy. Ironically it was a little boy who brought him out of it. Bastion gave him the strength he needed to accept it. When they arrived in Kusana Akeem could not believe his eyes. Maria had been consumed by some plague, a virus, perhaps an alien being. Maybe this had been their punishment for smiting Kaminae and not releasing Michael from his cage. If that was so, why had he been spared? The answer to that question was given just after Akeem brought Maria back to herself. West was gone. His world had literally come crashing down at that point around him. Coherent thought abandoned him and nothing could calm the storm inside of his heart.
He was to be alone. Forever. That was his price for his deeds. When he murdered his wife and brought death to his children started it all.
From the time he left Kusana to when he beheld what West had become, Akeem had been ready to leave the world himself. Maria and West suffered from the same affliction and they had become...different. It took awhile but Akeem could see he was still his West, and that their love transcended this change. Long story short, swarmlings. He had not thought it possible but using parts of both of them West brought to life children. It had been terrifying watching them emerge from pods almost full grown, a few on the cusp of adulthood. What was truly amazing was what the swarmlings actually were. Akeem saw his bloodline in them, Djinn. A female had emerged from the group, half of a succubus and part of his own kind. They looked like him, eyes and facial features and even the young djinn aggression. But they were West as well. Beautiful creatures with personalities already bigger than life. As young as they were he already loved them.
So when Akeem emerged from the court yard, freshly cleansed from his training session to behold his son contemplating a map of the world a faint smile spread to his face. He walked up behind him silently as he could, quite light footed for a man of his size. What was going through his son's head? Perhaps the weight of his position was pressing on him. There would come a day when West would be no more and Akeem would cease to exist. It would fall to Damion, first son of House Giletti-Malek to run the entirety of the Fraxon Empire. "My son." The djinn stepped forward and placed a hand on upon the djincubus' shoulder. For a moment he stood there and observed the map. All of the world was known. Nocturne and the demons, Yuran destroyed, Kusana the eternal house of elves, Fraxon the greatest empire ever known, Aramil an island haven, Val'Ghast home of monsters and Amaranthine the vast desert of Wurms. Akeem waved a hand over the map, highlighting what was theirs. "It will be the greatest burden you will ever carry. Remember you will always have your family, Damion. They will help you when no one else will." It was comforting to actually be able to say that and mean that.
Energy 1800 Stats 10/9 EquipmentFrigid End Passives
• +1 Rank to Physical Abilities
• Mind Games The djinn have a permanent 'force' around their skin that will reduce incoming damage by a rank (excluding holy and unholy magic). This puts them on the same level of base defensibility as a werewolf, although they can't regenerate, so... At adept rank, this force can become amplified by the djinn's mind, psychomanually controlling the level of force in the layer of magic. They can apply energy to it to block all manner of attacks, meaning they don't really have to learn defensive abilities. It is really no more potent than any other defense of its rank, though.
• Chi Sense This is required for all Dim Mak techniques. It allows the user to see the flow of chi within any surrounding enemies in an area, making hiding from them quite useless as they pop up in their vision just as easily as infrared. This vision will last for five posts at a time, and requires a cool down of one post after usage. Once Stage 4 is learned, the negative effects of this technique disappear and becomes a passive ability of the user.
• Light Feet The user is able to lengthen her stride and step lightly when running, which is good for crossing large distances without attracting the attention of guards or scouts. They make little noise when running like this.
Studying the map still, he kept his hand rested under his chin as he watched as if it might change. As if somehow it would all suddenly make sense to him on what to do. While he was plotting mad hard in his skull that seemed to be covered in tattoo's like the rest of his body, he noticed that his father, Akeem, had approached. He would listen to his father's words and take note of them, it was a nice sentiment to hear. "It's all going to be my responsibility someday. It will be my job to make sure that it never gets to the point where I must rely on family. For if I do, then I have failed in keeping the kingdom strong."
He did not dismiss the idea of help from his family, his family was much stronger than he was and much more experienced. But the day he took power, his family would have deserved the time to rest. He would not force them or ask them to come out of retirement to help him amend his mistakes and openly admit he had destroyed their legacy. He would not be able to bear it.
Looking over the map he shifted his eyes to where monsters spawned and where the reds were prominent. "Father. We are currently waging war with Zachariah but the reds are multiplying and do not wish to be controlled by us or submit to us. If Zachariah was to enlist the reds along with his current demon army, we would all but be pushed further back from our territories. Something must be done about the reds. On the flip side, if we act and do not exterminate them all, we will give them a reason to join Zachariah. That being said..." He would shift his cold gaze to his father which showed the tactician who was pure heartlessness inside of his own heart, "We must commit a genocide against the reds."
Energy 825 Stats 11/10 [+2 Flying] ProfileDjincubus Passives
• The Demon's Dance The way the Incubus seduces others with their charms. Regardless of rank, the affected will find it very difficult to deny them. If the subject is two ranks lower then the user, they're automatically seduced. The higher ranks can be seduced as well, but it'll be more difficult. Once captured the target focuses only on the Incubus, sort of like tunnel vision blocking out the surroundings. To clarify, seduction is energy. It is not eye-sight or hearing based. It's an aura that pushes outwards and seduces people. It can't be blocked by barriers/etc. People seduced will not attack you, and you can basically force them to do things depending on what you say. They won't hurt/kill themselves or attack another person.
• The Game This can only be applied to someone the Incubus has met before. Since Incubi appear simply as men, it's impossible to tell them apart from others. The moment you interact with them, they can register your desires. They'll remember you, and discover the aches and wants of your body. They'll know what sort of kinks you're into, and what type of person you like. They can use this to seduce you in person, or they can use it to manifest in your dreams. They'll send a little fraction of themselves to wherever you lay your head at night, and corrupt your body with their touch. When a victim is stronger and more able to resist them, they'll stick to beautiful and elated imagery to keep you hooked on your fantasy world. Timid and fearful victims will often be tormented with their desires, controlled by them rather than gifted them.
When a victim is truly infatuated with their fantasies, or crippled into submission by them, the Incubus has the power to manifest their spirit completely. They will then loom over them, and please their bodies however they want. This is most often used simply for the personal satisfaction of an Incubus, but can also be used for assassination purposes; ie, if the Incubus has reason to kill the target he's seduced, he will. The Incubi cannot use this ability to teleport to people while in combat, or to teleport to people who are in combat. The opponent will not suddenly be alarmed by the Incubi, but worked into it. They'll know they're coming, and will eagerly await them.
• Three Wishes Up to three times per fight, the djinn may manipulate the force around an attack to redirect it for two ranks less in energy. This can only be done on skills of one rank higher than them. This is an extremely powerful passive of the djinn, an intelligent djinn capable of using it to largely make up for their vulnerability to ranged magic. It can also help to leave an enemy open in close-quarters combat.
• Mind Games The Djinn have a permanent 'force' around their skin that will reduce incoming damage by a rank (excluding holy and unholy magic). This puts them on the same level of base defensibly as a werewolf, although they can't regenerate, so... At adept rank, this force can become amplified by the Djinn's mind, psychomanually controlling the level of force in the layer of magic. They can apply energy to it to block all manner of attacks, meaning they don't really have to learn defensive abilities. It is really no more potent than any other defense of its rank, though
Technique
xxMomongaxx
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 7:29 pm
The Divine Forrester
Akeem observed his son from the position of father, King, and soldier. He of course expected great things from his own offspring. The boy had been both blessed and cursed with a power much stronger than he could control at this time. He would want to crush his foes, bring men and women alike under his control and force them to adore him. It would be overwhelming, leaving little room for other traits. Every djinn was that way, not necessarily cruel but certainly not merciful. West had explained to Akeem what it meant to be an incubus at a young age. Everything was a game and everyone was a toy to be played with. The King of the East did not exactly think this to be a good thing, but for the small amount of time he had known Damion the boy seemed to deal with it well. So hearing the djinncubus quickly decide on death came as expected. "If your first instinct is to quell every rebellion or potential rebellion with mass death, what will you have left to rule?" It was a rhetorical question, for death and tyrants went hand in hand. If Damion wanted to be a ruthless leader his people would respond ruthlessly as well. No matter how strong he became it would be millions of people against him and him alone. "The Geshan may have powers beyond any other, but it is only a potential. Their numbers are very small. What we have to conquer is little more than a standard Djinn community. Through diplomacy we may be able to recruit these people, though I do not think it will be an easy task. Just as my people were, they are stubborn. Unlike the Djinn who live for battle the Geshan wish to see themselves as Kings and Queens. Perhaps a few given titles, recruitment into our military and a constant monitoring of these people will settle the matter. If not..." Akeem scratched at his beard for a moment as his molten gold eyes scanned the map before him. With Yuran fallen and Kusana in need of their help he could not afford a war on two fronts. It would be best to settle this matter through negotiations. An uneasy feeling crept through him when he considering subterfuge. Instead of all out war, maybe they could capture key members of the Geshan community, perhaps a leader or the women and children. This did not sit well with him. Akeem swore off cruelty years ago and accepted the love of life, regardless of if that life was trying to take his. He would not turn children into bargaining chips.
Energy 1800 Stats 10/9 EquipmentFrigid End Passives
• +1 Rank to Physical Abilities
• Mind Games The djinn have a permanent 'force' around their skin that will reduce incoming damage by a rank (excluding holy and unholy magic). This puts them on the same level of base defensibility as a werewolf, although they can't regenerate, so... At adept rank, this force can become amplified by the djinn's mind, psychomanually controlling the level of force in the layer of magic. They can apply energy to it to block all manner of attacks, meaning they don't really have to learn defensive abilities. It is really no more potent than any other defense of its rank, though.
• Chi Sense This is required for all Dim Mak techniques. It allows the user to see the flow of chi within any surrounding enemies in an area, making hiding from them quite useless as they pop up in their vision just as easily as infrared. This vision will last for five posts at a time, and requires a cool down of one post after usage. Once Stage 4 is learned, the negative effects of this technique disappear and becomes a passive ability of the user.
• Light Feet The user is able to lengthen her stride and step lightly when running, which is good for crossing large distances without attracting the attention of guards or scouts. They make little noise when running like this.
