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 Posted: Sat Oct 24, 2015 9:36 am
It might have been a moonless night. There was no sure way to tell with the clouds hanging so low overhead, heavy with precipitation and tinted an orange hue by the harsh city lights. Nothing had yet fallen, but there was a distinct promise of what was still to come.
Amphitrite took that energy, that potential, and inhaled it deeply as she hung in the shadows of the park, an orb of energy in her hands, her quota easily filled for the night that had barely begun. She was restless, antsy… wanting. Simply filling a quota, while important, she knew, it was rarely enough to satiate her. She did not simply settle for the minimal, unlike some officers she’d seen in passing.
So when she sensed an Order signature, she was intrigued; when she realized it was headed towards her, a basic level no less, she was captivated. She tucked the energy orb away and slid her hands behind her back, tucking her gloved fingers together as she simply began walking, casually, in their direction.
They wanted to come? Let them.
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Thrymr enjoyed the rain.
Or at least, he would have, had it been actually falling. It wasn’t yet, but the scent of it hung heavy in the air, and he could smell it, could sense that, at any moment, the clouds would decide to open up and leave them all drenched and dripping and cold. The sky was rather lovely - he had never minded storms, after all, had savored the times when he had been caught in them, because there was just something so powerfully reassuring about nature in general.
Now, however…
Now he felt something. A power signature, stronger than his own, and not an Order one. Thrymr had spent most of the evening simply patrolling, expecting nothing except youmas - and now he felt a wave of energy that told him he was no longer alone. It was faint at first, but grew steadily in strength the closer he got to it.
Thrymr’s eyes scanned the deserted park, his long hair swinging in a neat braid down his back, his pale skin and hair standing out starkly in the otherwise shadowy night. He couldn’t see anyone, but he could feel them, and they had to be near, they had to be somewhere very near by.
“Hello?” he called out, probably stupidly, but he was at least not standing around waiting for someone to come and attack him.
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Amphitrite heard him before she saw him, and thought about sneaking up on him - it was so much fun to get the drop on people, and much easier to pick them off that way - but tonight, she didn’t particularly feel like easy, not with a storm brewing and with a senshi she knew would be weaker.
Just as he would hear her before he ever saw her, her shell heels clacking on the pavement - and the first thing she saw of him was that he glowed. A little spot of white on a dark, heavy night.
“Hello, senshi, ” she greeted almost cheerily, with a smile that could have seemed almost coy, although there was something dark and coolly calculating in her gaze. He wasn’t very big, either… not too physically intimidating. A weaker opponent in nearly every sense.
Yes. She could afford to play.
“All alone tonight, hm?”
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There was a clicking noise - Thrymr realized belatedly that it was shoes on pavement, and he twisted around, catching sight of her just a short distance away. Unfamiliar - though this was hardly surprising, since he’d met literally no one other than his team - and light haired, though not nearly as light as his own, and not at all like his uniform. Where his was white and bright, hers was dark, blacks and teals together.
Her smile did not quite reach her eyes. Thrymr’s gaze swept over her, his chest tightening a little.
“Hello,” he said slowly, cautiously, and he stood rather still, watching her warily. She seemed...well, he couldn’t quite tell. Like him? No...no, not really. Her energy signature, while faintly similar, was in stark contrast to the Order ones he was so used to.
“Yes,” said Thrymr, terribly honest in spite of himself. “Who are you? You don’t...you don’t look like me.”
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His question gave away more than he realized, probably - this one was fresh, more than she’d assumed. How long since he’d awakened, she wondered. Days? Weeks? Could he have gone longer than that without encountering someone like her?
The thought of being someone’s first made her smile grow a little wider.
“No, no I don’t. We’re all a bit different though, aren’t we? - it’s kind of a shame, though,” she looked him over, swaying on the balls of her feet, shell heels clicking again as she settled back on the pavement. “I wouldn’t mind looking a bit like you. You’re awfully pretty, darling, ” the corrupt teased, winking playfully at him. She wondered, idly, how far that braid would go if there were a little more similar, how much fun it might be to toy with it, twist it.
“I’m Amphitrite. Senshi of shells.” She stepped closer, reaching out and lightly brushing her fingertips across his upper arm. There was the potential for gentleness on her face, something mildly shifting as she considered the possibilities. “And who are you, darling? - how long have you been at this game, hm?”
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He wasn’t very sure he liked her smile. There was something very...not quite right about it, something that sent Thrymr’s nerves on edge. He gave her a look, letting his eyes flicker over her appearance again, trying to discern what it was that she actually did, what it was that she...well, was.
“Thank you,” said Thrymr automatically. “You’re already quite nice looking, though,” he added, because, well, he was Thrymr and he was nothing if not honest to a fault. The wink, however, was met with a frown; somehow he did not think it carried the same meanings as the ones Nadia or Colin gave to him from time to time.
A senshi? Thrymr’s look of bewilderment grew, and his arm tingled where she touched him; he didn’t draw away, but instead glanced down in confusion, brows drawing together.
“I’m Thrymr, Senshi of the Southern Lights,” he said, and, not answering her second question (accidentally, rather than on purpose), he asked, “You don’t look like a senshi; are you really one?”
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Her smile broadened, almost cat-like, as she rather shamelessly took the end of his braid between her fingers and toyed with it. “Aren’t you a sweetheart,” she murmured at him, allowing the hair to fall from between her fingers, although she remembered its softness. Even if it was out of bewilderment, she loved, loved eyes on her…
“Southern Lights?” Something flickered across her face; Methone, Ash’s pet. The senshi of the Northern Lights. There was a chance it was coincidental, of course. Spheres being related did not mean the senshi necessarily were. But, if by chance - “Do you know a cat named Ash, by chance? - she was mine - I mean, the cat to awaken me,” she explained cooly.
Then, Amphitrite laughed, softly. “Of course I’m a senshi. I’m a bit different from you, darling,” she explained, tucking a finger neatly under his chin. “But still no less a senshi. - do you really want to know, Thrymr, what separates us?”
Her smile was gentle, even if her eyes never were. “I’d be happy to tell you.”
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He remained still as she took ahold of his hair - and though this was usually something he adored, having his hair played with, he had the strangest urge to simply tug it away, out of her grasp, Thrymr’s gaze a mixture of uncertainty and bemusement. That sweetheart was not the same tone that Colin used when he called him that - with Colin it was gentle, teasing sometimes. This was...he wasn’t sure he liked how it sounded coming from Amphitrite.
His brows had drawn together. “I’m not sure why you’re asking me that,” he said, and then his head cocked to the side at the mention of Ash, a few pale streaks of hair falling across his forehead.
“Ash awakened me, yes,” said Thrymr slowly, still honest - and his chin lifted automatically as she tapped beneath it, his eyes still holding that confusion in them. She was still smiling, still laughing, and it was all very light and easy and simple - but her eyes did not hold the same sort of gentleness that the rest of her was appearing to.
He did not understand.
“What separates them?” he asked.
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Amphitrite didn’t bother to address the ‘why’ of the question. Maybe sooner or later, he’d know. Not yet. She’d already gotten the information she needed. How wonderful would it be, maybe, to win him over? He was, in a way, already a bit like family after all, with Ash being his cat - Laurelite would be so pleased with her, too.
“Your senshi are lonely, isolated… and you’ll be forgotten, Thrymr, “ she cooed, oozing of sympathy, as though she were speaking to someone who simply didn’t know any better. Really, wasn’t she? - this new, fresh senshi, what did he know, really? “They’re going to let you down when you need them the most. It’s just a fact. - they put on a great show, but they don’t really care. The order does not look after their own. You might not think it now. But it’s true. And you’re going to learn, and learn the hard way - you might even die.” A smile slowly settled onto her face, then, as she drew a soft breath. “However...”
A hand settled warmly on his shoulder, though it was heavy. She kept her other hand tucked under his chin, coaxing him to continue looking at her. “Senshi like me. We have everything. We are cared for. We are loved. We are provided for. We are never forgotten. We are part of something larger, more beautiful - and although we are not order, we are more organized than your’s will ever be. Anything you need - love, power, anything - it’s handed to you on a silver platter if you put in the effort. And you, Thrymr...”
She caressed his cheek, chuckling warmly. “You seem like you work hard, don’t you? - I can see it in your eyes.”
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The confused expression on Thrymr’s face dropped away entirely, replaced by one of surprise - and then fear.
He’d never been good at hiding his emotions. He’d never been able to conceal what it was that he thought, that he felt; everything showed on his face, or in his eyes, or in his mannerisms, and this was no exception. Thrymr’s heart was colliding with his chest, looking as though he’d been either winded or slapped or both.
You’ll be forgotten.
They don’t really care.
He was frozen in place, unable to move. Amphitrite’s hand was smoothing down his face, her fingers cool against his skin, and her words slid into him like poison in his veins, quietly and subtly catering to the insecurities already in his heart. Thrymr sucked in a sharp breath, his chest tightening, and he couldn’t seem to get his legs working properly.
Hadn’t Lorne just told him that he was visible? Hadn’t Colin just said he was family? Hadn’t Nadia told him, repeatedly, that he was wonderfully welcomed in their little home?
No. No,they can’t - they won’t -
-but they will -
No, they promised, they won’t ever -
- you will be forgotten.
“No,” Thrymr whispered, his voice quiet. “No - no, you’re wrong.”
He did not have much to go on, but what little he did was precious to him.
“I’m - I belong with them, and they with me, they’d never - they wouldn’t ever forget me.”
(It was almost as though he was trying to convince himself, not Amphitrite.)
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He really was precious. More than an open book, because books at least took some effort to read. She kept a hand cupping his cheek as she slowly slid around him, fingertips finally slipping to down to his neck, his shoulder, as she half turned and stood a bit too close behind him.
Her other hand pressed against his back, palm first, pressing her cheek against his hair and nuzzling lightly. “I wish I was lying to you, darling,” she murmured to him, and the corrupt sounded so genuinely sympathetic. “I thought the same thing as you once… or so I’m told.”
The harshness of her eyes, at this angle, would go unseen. “I don’t remember, myself. They forgot me, too - and I suffered for it,” and she sighed against his hair, sliding her hand from his shoulder to his chest, stroking almost soothingly.
“You don’t have to, though. I - we could save you. And then… well, you’d never be lonely again, my darling light. I promise. We’d never forget you. We’d love you just as you are, and we’d help you become more. We’d train you. We’d love you.”
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What was it that Colin had said - that not all physical encounters were good? That it was entirely based on trust and willingness?
Amphitrite’s fingers were warm against his face. She was shifting behind him, and Thrymr couldn’t move, couldn’t seem to get his legs to shift either forwards or backwards, frozen in place like a small, pale statue. Her hand was traveling over his face, his neck and then it was against his back, and her face was in his hair, and she was nuzzling him but - but it was not the same -
His heart skittered in his chest, which felt tight and unpleasant. Thrymr swayed, ever so slightly, trying to make sense of the words, trying to remember what he’d already been taught, trying to just think clearly -
We love you.
He didn’t know what love was. None of the others had said it to him - he’d overheard, once, Nadia talking on the phone with Lorne and ending the conversation with a soft, whispered adoringly confession. He’d seen it on television and in movies, but he had only ever said it to his parents, and relatives, and really, it did not mean the same.
But the others - his team, his precious team, his precious family -
Her hand was on his chest - she would feel the erratic beating of his heart against it, like it was about to burst free at any moment, like it was about to explode -
”No!”
Thrymr snapped out of his trance, staggering forward and gasping. He twisted around, his hair flipping behind him like a long white rope, several strands falling free about his face, and his eyes were wide, his face paler than usual, starkly light against the shadowy sky.
“No,” said Thrymr again, somewhat breathlessly. “No - no, I can’t. I don’t want to leave them, I can’t leave them. Even - “
Even if they left me behind - even if they forgot me -
I wouldn’t forget them. Or leave them behind.
“No,” said Thrymr, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry - “ and he truly sounded like he meant it - “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
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Amphitrite let him pull away without grabbing, clawing, or reacting much at all - instead, her arms fell and hung there limply at her sides, her bangs falling into her eyes and, for a moment, rendering her expression unreadable.
“That’s too bad.”
She mumbled something softly, nearly inaudibly under her breath. A pair of pearl oyster shells appeared on her forearms in a flash of dark light as she took a step forward.
“You’re going to regret that, darling.”
The corner of her lips curled in a sadistic smile as she lunged at him, aiming to slam one of those shells into the side of his pretty little head. Her gaze had gone razor sharp again, dark and cold as the ocean in the depths of winter.
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He didn’t know what she was thinking - her face was shadowed, half-hidden behind her hair, and he couldn’t see what she was doing, couldn’t hear the words that she mumbled out, saw the flash of light, and wondered if he had made a mistake. If he had done something wrong, if -
Thrymr did not have time to react. The shell slammed into his temple, stars exploding in his vision, and he staggered sideways and almost fell over, pain reverberating up and down his body, ringing in his head. He gave a gasp of surprise and agony, a hand flying up automatically to press against the spot where she’d hit him, and his fingers came away sticky with blood, hot against his skin.
“I won’t - “ Thrymr got out, and he was not a fighter, but he tried, a leg swinging out to try and catch her ankles. “I won’t regret it, I’m - I’m sorry, really - but I can’t - I won’t leave them behind - “
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Posted: Sat Oct 24, 2015 9:38 am
The sight of red staining his beautiful white hair was like letting loose a drop of blood in the ocean; the corrupt was ravenous for more. So much that he caught her, if only just so, with his swinging leg, knocking her roughly down into a crouching position - although whether that was better or worse for Auguste as she smoothly shifted her weight to try and knock the senshi off-balance was another story.
Amphitrite was not a perfect warrior, no. She was still, even know, learning and growing and more than capable of making mistakes. Even then, for all the tone and muscle she’d gained - enough to be noticeable - she was simply not built like women like Cinnabar. But she was still trained at length to utilize what she did have, setting aside some time for herself each and every day to polish her skills.
“But they’ll leave you behind,” she hissed cooly with a peal of laughter, not that it really mattered now - he’d made his decision.
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He knew, just from the tremors that went up and down his leg on impact, that his connecting kick was not due to skill, but to luck. Thrymr staggered a little, and it was so easy to knock him off balance - Amphitrite managed it within the next second, from her crouched position, and down he went, crashing to the pavement with a cry of surprise and pain.
If not for his long sleeved uniform, his arms would have been scraped up. As it was, the fabric ripped a little, his head snapping painfully back, and his hair was falling free from its braid, white strands loose around his face, spread out beneath him.
It was hard to breathe. He stared with wide-eyes at her cold eyes and even colder laughter.
Would they leave him behind? A part of him inevitably thought they would. They would realize he didn’t really belong with them after all, that he wasn’t worth the time and attention, that they already had each other and that was all that was needed. The thought sent a pang of loneliness and sadness through Thrymr and he swallowed hard, his head spinning.
“Maybe,” he said quietly. “But I won’t ever leave them behind. I’m going to stay with them, even if they hate me, even if they abandon me.”
He swung his leg around and tried to knock Amphitrite off of her feet as well, though his aim was weak.
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She slammed her shell-laden arm down against his leg as it swung for her, pinning it against the pavement, with fractures spitting and spreading along the length of it. “You’re an idiot,” she hissed, rocking back to her feet smoothly as water flowed, and she dusted her hands along her own fuku as though brushing away something vaguely dirty.
Given the chance, she aimed a kick at him, knowing the kind of damage her shoes could do when she hit a tender enough spot. “Lucky for you - I know better -” Whether by death or corruption, really, she’d be sparing this light-haired and lighter-hearted boy some serious pain in the future.
The question was, how kind was she feeling? Did she just drag his starseed out and bring him to Laurelite? - or did she just take mercy and kill him, maybe spare him the war at all. Could always bring his starseed to Umber instead. Surely he’d appreciate having another senshi’s to work with and examine.
The wind blew harshly through the trees, making their hair, both of them long, stir; the first drops of rain began to fall.
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He couldn’t help the small, sharp gasp that pulled from his throat as her bracer came down hard on his leg, and Thrymr’s shriek of pain was echoed out into the darkness of the night around them, agony reverberating up and down his body. He only had a few seconds relief when she let off - her foot connected with his side and sent him rolling over onto his stomach, panting and doubling up, stars winking in and out of his vision, which felt hazy around the edges.
He was in way over his head. It was a mistake to have refused her -
-no. No, it wasn’t. He had no regrets about that, he knew already that even if the others forgot him or let him behind, that he would still be there, even if it had to be from a distance. He wasn’t going to abandon them - he couldn’t leave them. They may not have needed him, but he needed them, and this realization made his head spin.
Rain spattered his face. He’d always loved the rain, had always felt like it was something cleansing, but he did not feel clean now. Thrymr felt the heat of the blood on his face contrasting sharply with the cool drops of water. He tried to inch away on his forearms, tried to work up enough strength to get to his feet, but his leg was throbbing.
He could do one thing, though - it wasn’t powerful, but he could at least do this one simple thing.
Thrymr pressed his hands together, palms flat, and whispered ”Sailor Thrymr, Heart of Light,” in a ragged voice. With a jerk, he flung his hands up and opened them, and a wash of brilliant, starry lit hearts came waving towards Amphitrite. It wouldn’t do much good, maybe hinder her for a few seconds but maybe he could make a get away while she was occupied.Quote: Thrymr presses his hands together and then opens them, palms facing skyward. An aurora of hearts gusts towards his opponent like a wave, and does mostly lightly bruising sort of damage. This is more of a short-range attack and cannot penetrate most protective barriers. This does not last very long, depending on the strength of the victim, 30 seconds at maximum. He can use this once per battle.
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Amphitrite should have seen the last ditch effort at magic coming; she was a senshi too, after all. It was what she would have done if the roles were reversed. She had barely enough time to throw up her arms at a last-ditch effort to try and protect herself, for all the good that it did - the attack was designed to break through her defenses -
-what Thrymr didn’t know, and the corrupt herself was really only just discovering for the first time, was that her magic had a last-ditch measure to protect its senshi. When the shells shattered, especially with the force of the heart gust, while it might not have been intended to harm much, it still sent the shards flying in every possible direction, blind and razor sharp.
One in particular caught across Amphitrite’s shoulder, a gasp escaping her, a trickle of blood seeping rich against her skin.
More than a few shards had flown in Thrymr’s direction.
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He did not get very far.
Thrymr had crawled forward an inch or two, but the sweep of shell shards against his skin succeeded in stopping him. Several pieces sliced across his cheek, some just grazing, but one caught him against his ear and pain ricocheted through his head, making him gasp, clapping a hand to the side of his head. He buried his face in his other arm, trying to shield it from harm, and felt another shard rip the fabric of his uniform by his hip.
Thrymr stayed where he was, face down on the ground, blood trickling through his fingers, every part of him throbbing painfully.
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Amphitrite stumbled for a moment, taken off-guard by the attack and the recoil of her own, rendered a bit breathless - but she was trained to recover quickly.
And when she did, her eyes narrowed, she looked down her nose at the boy on the ground, face buried in his arm and lying there prone and helpless. Perhaps she’d finally beaten the fight out out of him. Not much of a challenge, really - but then, he was a basic, and even those who should have stood stronger than her hadn’t proven much of a challenge.
The white moon was so soft. It was pathetic.
This was his first lesson, probably. And it’d taken more than this to show her, hadn’t it? Back then…
It wouldn’t be enough.
Without a sound, she stepped forward, lifting her foot and slamming a heeled shoe into his back.
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He was not giving up - he was not going to just lie here and let her take him back to Chaos, but he didn’t know what else to do. His body was aching with the effort of moving, but Thrymr lifted his head, his face flushed as he tried to figure out an escape plan, or just a plan to slow Amphitrite down, somehow slow her.
He did not get a chance to even consider a plan.
The heel of the senshi’s shoe was like a knife in his back, and Thrymr shrieked with pain, gasping as agony split up and down his spine. He half curled onto his side, trembling, eyes wide with fear, the side of his face pressed into the ground, his hair spilling out behind him like a white cloud.
Maybe he wasn’t meant for this after all. Maybe he was never meant to fight, maybe -
-maybe -
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The shriek satisfied her on some level, and repulsed her on another she didn’t want to admit to. Amphitrite’s face was unreadable, although he probably wasn’t looking anyway, and she knew she wasn’t through with him. So focused was she that she didn’t sense the creep of a second pure aura, the flicker of a shadowed figure, hard to focus on until he stood directly behind her.
“Gift of -” she started, her voice like ice. And then, abruptly, gone. The corrupt’s eyes widened, feeling the final stroke of pen against her skin, and she whirled, nearly stumbling over Thrymr’s prone body.
There stood a squire of Saturn, towering over her, a frown on his face, jaw set tight as he clutched the pen hard in his hand. Thunder rolled in the distance, the promise of more to come.
“You should leave,” Mont Blonc said, his tone quiet, but in the way that commanded attention. “Now.”
The rain began to fall in earnest as the corrupt seemed to weigh her options, her eyes narrowed and flickering to the boy at her feet. Then, abruptly, she sneered and turned, teleporting out of sight - a battle that could have been won, she knew that. But it wasn’t worth the effort, not when she didn’t know what other effects the squire’s magic might have besides the loss of her voice.
With Amphitrite gone, the brief surge of authority left Mont Blonc, his shoulders slumping as he stepped quickly forward, laying a hand on Thrymr, eyes wide. “Auguste?” he whispered, trying to survey the damage that had been done.
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He wasn’t unconscious, though a part of him wished he was. Never before had he experienced so much pain, because he wasn’t used to fighting, had never needed to fight before, had never so much as squabbled with siblings, because he’d grown up an only child and had lived a life devoid of any need for physical entanglements.
He wondered if this made him pathetic. He knew it made him naive, knew that it was unbelievably shameful to not be able to do something so simple.
Thrymr was dimly aware of as second power signature along the first, but he couldn’t see who it was. His eyes, which had been wide with fear a second before, were now squeezed tightly shut, waiting for Amphitrite to finish what she’d started, waiting for the pain to come again -
-but it never did. Instead, a voice, familiar like hot cocoa, registered in his mind, soft and gentle. There was a gust of displaced air, a rumble of thunder, and then footsteps, coming in his direction. A hand on his shoulder, and then that same voice again, filled with concern, and he knew that voice - knew the sound of his own name, his civilian name.
Thrymr’s eyes opened, his vision wavering.
“Mont Blonc,” he murmured, trying to dispel some of the blurriness to his gaze. ”Oh non, je suis tellement désolé.”
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The squire’s hand move up cup Auguste’s cheek, coaxing him to continue looking up at him, trying to search the senshi’s face for some tell-tale sign of a concussion or anything of the sort. Would this require a hospital visit? Alongside comforting his friend, this was Mont Blonc’s primary concern, making the distinction between getting him home or getting him to a doctor. “S'il vous plaît ne pas présenter des excuses,” he murmured softly, quickly.
And either way, he began making moves to gather the smaller man into his arms, as gently as he possibly could - no matter what course of action Mont Blonc took, they would not stay here. He hunched himself half over the senshi once he was in his grasp, rising and shielding him the best he could from the now-heavy rain with his shoulders.
“Tout ira bien,” he said, as soothingly as he could, starting to walk with him.
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The warmth of the hand on his cheek made Thrymr’s eyes flutter, and he looked up at Mont Blonc. His gaze was a little unfocused, eyes not quite meeting the Squire’s, but it was at least steady, and his pupils were a normal size. The blood on the side of his face had started to dry on his cheek, the scarlet vibrant and terrible against his pale hair.
His fingers grasped Mont Blonc’s sleeves, and with a great deal of effort, Thrymr letting out a soft sound of pain as he was lifted up. His back gave a scream of protest at the movement, agony against his spine and his shoulders - but then he was lifted up, and the pressure was eased off of his legs, though it still hurt. Thrymr's gasp was muffled as he buried his face against Mont Blonc's chest, arms cradled against his stomach, one of his hands curling in the front of his uniform.
”Je suis désolé,” Thrymr whispered again. “Je serai bien, vraiment…” - and Amphitrite’s words echoed in his mind, unbidden.
They will forget you.
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