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Post by Vayne Solidor on May 18, 2010 14:42:03 GMT -5
and I'd rather play here
with all the m a d m e n
- - ♚ - -
- - ♚ - -
for I'm quite c o n t e n t
they're all as sane as me[/color] [/center] It had been nearly a fortnight since his resurrection, each day spent painstakingly coaxing his memory - or lack thereof - to give him even the slightest hint as to who, where, and why he was. It mocked him, giving him phrases and faces and names when it saw fit, each without any further details. It was infuriating, like trying to recall a dream before it was swamped in fog. And still it was strangely exciting as Vayne, unsure of who he was and how to act, was solving an intricate puzzle. There were natures of who he was that hadn't faded, his patterns of speech, the way he held himself, the levelheadedness. Nobody had trouble believing he didn't know where he was when he took the time to ask. Not with his strange attributes. But none of that was helpful if it was as strange to everyone else as it was to Vayne.
Fortunately, his mind slowly came back to him, teasing as it was. On the second night, he remembered Larsa. Not his face, not their relation, just a sense of duty padded with adoration; the soft sting of betrayal mixed with the pride of approval. On the third night, he realized quite suddenly that the metal he'd pulled from his body upon waking had been part of him. On the fifth night, he remembered his name. And on it went, broken pieces that eluded to a bigger picture he did not understand. It was on the ninth day that the seal withholding his past broke and Vayne was nearly struck comatose as he remembered everything. The Occuria, killing half of his own blood, Draklor and Cid, Lady Ashe's return, magicite, nethicite, Nabradia. His hound Gabraanth, the Bahamut, the resistance, Larsa's defiance, death. He did not - could not - sleep that night. Nor did he the next night as somewhere between the two he came to the sick conclusion that perhaps he was being toyed with by the very gods he tried to free himself from.
Tonight, wavy chestnut colored hair covered by a hood as he moved through the streets, he came to the resolution that even if he was being used, they would rue bringing him back to life.
Occuria.
He still did know where he was but he put the fault to his mind. Vayne prayed that they would not know his face either should they see it. He wasn't as foolish to believe that being, no doubt, proclaimed dead would stop rumors. After all, was the Dalmascan Captain not once proclaimed dead himself? The irony struck him dully. There were brains behind select ears that would not hesitate to investigate. Vayne was in no position to take on any sort of confrontation. His body and mind were still strangely weak. Tasks as simple as walking drained him at amazing speeds. None-the-less, he couldn't bare sitting around doing nothing for much longer. Dangerous as it was, he needed to get back to Archadia. The answers his mind could not supply him would be found there, in her, his homeland.
If there was anyone that would still welcome him, it would be Archadia. Even if her people would not.
WORDS fivethreefour
TAG open :D
LYRICS all the madmen - - david fucking bowie
COMMENTS first poosst D:
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Post by Penelo on May 18, 2010 22:56:34 GMT -5
Things had been difficult for the blond. Vaan was no where, and she'd become separated from Fran after they had been reunited in a ruined city called Midgar. Since that day a few weeks ago, the girl had been traveling. She had many maps all folded into the pack she carried on her shoulders. Over the week and a half, or so, she had amassed a good sized sword, a large supply of Ethers and Hi-potions, a change of clothes, and a tent. These were her only possessions and she kept them close to her at all times. She has learned a bit about this new worlds she was in; the cities she was traveling through now were from many different places, and the world they had landed on was going through some harsh things, and hated the new arrivals. Penelo had not actually met a 'native,' as it seems they all live in one place, completely shut off from the rest of them. Penelo just wanted to be back in Ivalice with Vaan. That was all, she cared about nothing else.
At the moment, she was stowing her pack in the roots of a tree, her blue eyes darted this way and that. She wanted to go into the village, but she didn't want to get pickpocketed. And she also needed some money, so she was planning on doing some thieving as well---even if she didn't like it. She needed money and wanted food. She covered the area where her bag was and started to walk into town with her eyes intent on the people walking around. She was looking for someone with a loose purse or deep pockets. And someone unarmed.
It took her quite a while to spot someone that she might be able to steal from and disappear into the crowd quickly. It was a hooded man with brown hair. Something in his walk told her that he was posh and from the topmost class--even if the place they were in was terribly rundown looking--and she shadowed him for a while. She was a few steps behind him before she darted forward. She bumped into him purposefully as her hand reached into his pocket.
She found nothing, but it was the face that was distracting her. She jumped away quickly, her blue eyes narrowed. She had had an apology on her lips to the man for running into....but it was.....She could hardly believe it, but there was no doubt. She had seen his face close up when they fought nearly four years ago---four years already?!--it was none other than Vayne Solidor, a man she had helped kill, and she had tried to steal from him. She immediately hated that she didn't have a sword on her. She let out a short breath of frustration, her eyes jumped back to him though. What was he doing here?
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Post by Vayne Solidor on May 20, 2010 23:44:28 GMT -5
and I'd rather play here
with all the m a d m e n
- - ♚ - -
- - ♚ - -
for I'm quite c o n t e n t
they're all as sane as me[/color] [/center] “Posh” as he was, Vayne knew pickpockets. Though, not to help his case, he’d never been so fully at the whim of one, usually any attempt stopped feet from any of his pockets, hands without wrists hitting the ground. The most he’d had to worry about was the blood splatter on his boots. But Vayne certainly wasn't in any state of mind to think beyond himself at the moment and despite the shock he wasn’t really all that surprised. Some part of him would not allow him to slum it and walking as arrogantly as he did with naught but a cloak wasn’t very good concealment at all. But damned if he was going to mess up his pretty face with dirt: Vayne was quite fond of hygiene, identity hidden or not. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected it to pose a problem. For one, he had absolutely nothing to his name but the clothes on his back. And second of all, who would know him here?
Perhaps it would have been in his best interest to knock on wood some time ago but the face that Vayne’s eyes dragged to out of irritation was one he recognized. He did not know the name that went with it but he did not need to. She was one of the many that had had a hand in his death. Vayne’s eyes flickered briefly but even with one of his murders standing within arm’s reach - her neck bare and offering enough space for one tightly gripped hand - he was still. She seemed as equally disgusted as he did, perhaps hers to a larger degree as she didn't seem very shocked by his appearance. Vayne was quite sure that he had died. Even if he had, by some strange occurrence, survived the battle aboard his sky fortress, they would not have so carelessly left him lie. He was their enemy, a formidable threat, one they would not want to rise again. Letting him loose on the odd chance that he could survive was not a risk they would take. He didn't need to know her name to know that much. Just as he didn't need to know her name to know she would never be anything more than what she was now: a filthy pickpocket.
Something about it all struck him with irony. Here she was, a hand stained with his blood, a murderer of an Emperor, and for what? To return to the streets that she more likely than not came from? What had he died for? Their ignorance? Their misgivings? Their inability to accept? Their Gods? It all seemed rather laughable. “It seems your treason was unrewarded.” His tone was level, deceptive in it's calm. He was still a bit sore about the whole murder aspect, believe it or not, and coming face to face with one of the faces behind it put him in a bit of a predicament. The very little he'd seemed to mash together with all the loose ends he had was coming apart. She knew his name, his apparent crimes, and he was sure as soon as she turned the other way she'd find some way to relay it to all of Vayne's favorite people.
What did he do with her?
WORDS fivefourseven
TAG penelo c:
LYRICS all the madmen - - david bowie <3
COMMENTS stealth mission failed 8I
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Post by Penelo on May 21, 2010 0:33:31 GMT -5
Penelo tried to process this information. If he was back, did that mean Dr. Cid was alive, and the other Judges they had killed? If so, that was disaster for Larsa, who had been rebuilding the mess Vayne had made with Ashe and Rozzaria. To see that all that work they had done was for nothing really did hurt. But, she realized slowly, if he was here sulking around, then he couldn't be causing Larsa any problems.
Yet.
That was very iffy to Penelo, and that just...she couldn't let Larsa find out his brother had come back to life. Vayne had known about Larsa's involvement in his downfall, and if he found out that Larsa had changed what he had been trying to build...Penelo had no doubt that he would try to kill him. And if he planned it right--which he definitely would--Larsa wouldn't know what was coming. She saw recognition in his face, and knew it was too late for her to play it off like she didn't know him. He knew her as one of them that had killed him, though she knew they had never been 'introduced' properly. The glare on her face was a stark contrast to her usual happy-go-lucky. That glare quickly changed to disgust as he actually spoke to her. That traitor should be mute.
He should never have the ability to poison the minds of anyone around him with his snake tongue. She surprised herself with so much hate in her thoughts, but it was Vayne. She glared at him. "Everything is as it should be, there." [/b] She was careful not to reveal anything of how everything was going on in Archadia, or just Ivalice in general. He needed to stay in the dark about the goings on, and she was not going to be the one to help him with any information. However... She couldn't just...let him go either. Her little hands curled into fists though she didn't raise them. "You shouldn't be alive."[/b] She blurted. She was nervous and didn't know what to do. She wished Fran was here. Fran would have been able to kill him on sight, but Penelo...she knew that deep down she would feel guilty for killing him. He had done bad things in the past, but now? He was just walking and she had tried to steal from him. Her needle always pointed to justice, and she knew she was in the wrong, now. That didn't mean she felt sorry for him or didn't hate him. She scuffed her foot against the ground and looked around with this new array of emotions. This was not what she had bargained for.[/size][/blockquote] |
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Post by Vayne Solidor on May 23, 2010 22:25:58 GMT -5
and I'd rather play here
with all the m a d m e n
- - ♚ - -
- - ♚ - -
for I'm quite c o n t e n t
they're all as sane as me[/color] [/center] Despite her assumptions, Vayne could not bring himself to even entertain the thought of killing Larsa. Perhaps many years ago, when he was still young, when Vayne’s hands were still fresh with the blood of his elder siblings, when Larsa hadn’t become a damned weakness. But even still. Larsa had betrayed him, stood behind his – no, their – enemies, rose his sword against him. As much as it pained Vayne to confront, Larsa had stood at this girl’s side and taken his life with the lot of them. He was just as responsible as they. Vayne had tried his best, attempting to quell all of the rising rebellion in Larsa. He had tried to make him understand. Archadia, Her people, and the surrounding countries: they were flawed to the point of near self-destruction. What was he to do? Watch Archadia fall? What he had done, he had done for the good of the people, for the good of Larsa. A part of him had not expected them to understand. Instant gratification could not be given in such a tedious restructure. But Larsa.
He had expected Larsa to have faith in him.
It was not murderous anger that rose in him realizing Larsa’s defiance. It was pain.
There is bite to her words but he had presumed she wouldn’t not want him to go home again. That was the entire reason she’d taken him out of it in the first place. Vayne knew this reaction was somewhat docile. Her Lady Ashe would not take so kindly and the rest would fall behind like hounds. Apparently, she knew how to train them better than he. “I am quite certain that I wasn’t.” Again, deception. Cool in delivery and without malice. Vayne doesn’t like to think of himself as a man twisted in pursuit of revenge. He doesn’t think it suits him well. Mayhap it’s because he knows, even without laying a hand on her, he’ll get it. Despite her attempts otherwise, he would go back home. He would go back home and he would right what he had set out to right so many years ago. In doing so, they would see their own err. Perhaps he would even let him live in the reconstruction. Perchance he would let them wallow in it. He was not wrong to think as he had. They were wrong to interfere and so he has difficultly letting her remark slide.
"As it should be?" She would be a fool not to notice the pure skepticism in his voice. There was even a note of bitterness to it, hidden beneath the smooth front. Larsa was young, and while his potential had been sky high even in their last encounter, he was not as of yet capable of rebuilding on the fractured society. He was young and full of hope. Hope that would cost him if he did not use it correctly. Knowing Larsa, he had reconciled the bond between Dalmasca and Archadia. With the princess alive and well, she'd have taken her place as queen. She too wielded hope as though it was a blade. Nothing could be 'as it should' in such a - The realization hit him rather harshly, though the notion did not show on his face. He did not know how long he had "slept," for lack of a better term. "And how long have I been gone for my brother and your queen of salvation to right all that was wrong?" He could not judge by her face alone. She looked older, faintly, at least he thought she did. Hers was not one he paid great attention too. Ashe and the betrayed ex-captian, his twin, Larsa, and that brat Ffamran had held his attention more so than the other three. His memory of her was distorted and gave him no estimate.
"How long has it taken for them to alter flaws irreparable?" The undertone of sarcasm has not left yet. If it wasn't for that single tone, it may have past for honest curiosity. But Vayne knows that it cannot be true. All is far from well. The lie of her words lay all around them in the ruined town they stand in.
WORDS sevenzerozero
TAG puurrnelo <3
LYRICS all the madmen - - david bowie
COMMENTS n/a
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