Questions of Death, [Seymour, closed]

[Aradia Megido]

How gorgeous of a place this really was!

Aradia couldn't help it; a smile bestowed itself upon her ruby-stained lips and it brightened up an otherwise already happy face. The feeling of being alive was wonderful on its own, but when it was greeted with such a perfect day like this, with the sky so blue and the breeze just right, twirling her curled ebony hair in a dancing ribbon behind her - it was made just flawless. Grasping the means to find her way here was not an important detail, and anyway, anything was made possible when the power of flight was presented to one's passive abilities.

It had been an interesting experience, some food for thought, as she had drifted about, butterfly wings flickering and fluttering with various intensity as she looked around her new surroundings with enthusiasm. The trees that she could see were wonderful, the waterfall she had passed simply superlative. And now, she had managed to wind up at a beach of some sort.

By now, she was no stranger to these kinds of grounds, with the ocean just within eyesight and the fine grains of sand making its playground. The maid touched down softly, as feather light as it could be deemed possible. Barely a twinge of sand was shifted its place, having landed with grace befitting that of a goddess. Rather, Equius would have made a statement along those lines, and of that she was certain. He was the kind of troll to do just that - it wouldn't shock her.

The young troll beamed about her, lacing her fingers behind her back and strolling around, her eyes skimming about her in barely contained excitement. She was happy to have been able to come to terms with herself and the lands she was now granted the privilege to see with her very own eyes. As unlike Alternia every place she had been, it was just as similar to it. She was able to find familiarities in the most underhanded of things, and whether or not facts such as that should have surprised her, it didn't.

Maybe they had more to offer to them than they realized. It was not so far-fetched, was it? She hardly thought so. Hadn't they all dealt with the unbelievable, the unforeseeable? They had done quite unimaginable things, their group of twelve. Along with some humans dragged along for the ride, even if they had not been entirely aware of it in the beginning of it all. Ah well! Thoughts for another time, when they were really of significance to her current state.

Aradia raised a hand to her brow, using it as a makeshift visor; but it wasn't as if she really needed it. It was more of a habitual thing, as though she were back in her mindset of that adventurer within her and acting like most of those silly adventurists in movies. Kind of like setting the mood, or showing that she was serious in the whole journeying around and exploring what you could explore sort of thing. It often made her feel more adventure-y, at least! Like she was doing it right, and she was having nothing but fun and having a good time. But, then again, she was looking at the horizon, staring quietly at the pretty colour palette the setting sun splashed against the clouds and painted the sky. They were beautiful hues, she had to say. She could stare forever if she could, as entranced as she was by the vibrancy she watched with a jubilant eye.

Soon, though, her attention drifted, as if pulled by an invisible wire. The girl momentarily frowned at the sight that greeted her - how had she missed a beached blubberbeast? Unconsciously tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and wings twitching subtly, she trotted toward it, pausing with one leg in mid-step a foot or so away from the creature. As far as she could tell, there was no life for her acknowledge, only death. How long had it been stuck here, withdrawn from its element? Had it been a poor, unfortunate soul, taking a chance and winding up like an unlucky spider she once knew?

Figuring it was safe, the girl placed a hand to the whale's blotched skin, falling into silence for a good moment. Thoughtfulness lined her features, and she roved her gaze over the fair-sized blubberbeast before casting her contemplation to the calm sea. Yet another creature to waltz into death's open arms. "Do you find it fascinating where you are now, hapless beast? It must be quite an experience, quite a new adventure!" She had been there once before. She knew the ropes. And although it hadn't been the most fun, she was feeling everything and anything again and she had had time to reflect on the meaning of death. It was a release. It was an enlightenment. And although she never wished it upon herself again, especially considering how her situation had been different, there was everything about it that was just suddenly...intriguing. Morbid sounding as it may have been, but it was out of her hands.

She patted its head gently, like it could have been fragile porcelain despite its fate, smiling softly. What a world.

Experience: 880

[Seymour Guado]

Three days he had been adrift.

Just a jut of wood, a tiny pedestal in this eternal, swelling blue. The ocean had been calm for him, for that he should have been thankful. It had given him food, also - fiends who swam too close and whose flesh he had not eaten raw for ten or so years and yet still tasted just as vile as it had back then. Tiny, insignificant, drowning in boredom - he had found that seeing Besaid in the distance more irritating than the blue horizon. Hope had it's way of doing that, making anticipation choke his mind.

Still, drinking only what his hands could conjure, three days alone with his thoughts had only been mildly unpleasant compared to what it could have been.

It was when the makeshift boat started to sink that he truly felt unfairly treated by luck itself. He was strong enough to swim, yes, but the prospect abhorred him beyond tangible reason. More than anything, his robe - heavy and quick to absorb water, weighed him down. The effort was almost too much to bear, but he had grown a fondness for it and, well, he did not exactly wish to wander around half naked whenever he found dry land. Vanity could pay it's cost.

When salt water turned to sand, exhausted, he had planned to rest awhile - when he saw something beyond unusual not too far away. Wringing his hair, antlers had suddenly became two ridiculously long strands, and the other noble spike protruding from his head had become a tangled blue mess over his eye. He looked a fool.

So much a fool, he almost wanted to avoid the company of the girl ahead all together. Yet he knew this strip of sand led to only one escape, and she would block his way. If anything, she would notice him soon enough if he simply stood motionless.

Swallowing whatever pride he had, he began his steady walk. Yet even though he wished to avoid her company, as he passed - he noticed she was standing by a beast. A whale of some sort, beached and lifeless. Pyreflies would still rot from it and he could smell the faintest trickle in the air. Yet it was not the sight that made him stop, it was her words.

He was not normally one to dabble in the petty thoughts of others, particularly when such things were often so very boring. Yet... As she spoke - as he turned to look at her, he noticed the wing ornaments on her back. More than that, her ashen skin and apparent horns made his brow raise and curiosity take its toll. How very strange. Was she somehow a fiend who had gained the ability to communicate? An unsent who could manipulate pyreflies? He could not smell death on her skin, though perhaps the small whale she was touching offset his senses.

He could not simply ignore her, even in his ridiculous state.

Flicking hair out of his eye, he decided to play upon her conversation. To simply demand where she came from would be viciously rude, after all.

"It is free of suffering, for now," he stated, smiling towards her. Conjuring his staff, he approached the girl and the creature. "The adventure you speak of would be nothing but an antagonising cycle, caught between life and death."

He spun his staff, gently swishing it over the creature's body. It appeared to glow, if very slightly. The pyreflies would leave with no objections, so weak and light, an acceptance of death. "I will send it."

With rather camp swirl, the pyreflies rose and were gone just like that. A soul, vanished from existence, given peace and a break from this endless cycle. He did not envy it.

"Do you feel no sadness for it?"

He looked to her, dismissing his staff. Her words, they had seemed mellowed earlier. Kindly. A mothering tongue, one who seemed to suffer no such anguish when it came to release. Strange.

Curling his hands, he bowed deeply. "My apologies." Straightening, he cocked his head, "I did not give any introduction." A smirk passed over his features. "Seymour Guado."

Offering, he added, "You may laugh if you wish." Flicking his head again, he continued, "Guado are not meant for the sea." Glancing down at his soaked robe, the green obi sinking and threatening to become untied, he added, "Nor, it would appear, are robes."

Word Count: 750
Total EXP: 1500

[Aradia Megido]

Carefully, she withdrew her hand. For a minute longer, she inspected the beached whale with a scrutinizing eye before lifting her gaze almost dispassionately away. It was dead now. Any prolonged kindness to an entity that had since gone over was wasted kindness.

No other words were needed. She had said all that she could have said to a creature that had given way to death and met its cold embrace for the first time. Maybe it was better for it than the life it had once led. There was no telling for certain. Not even she could foretell that much. But who would want to know such things about everyone and everything? That made everything with so little interest, leaving nothing to the imagination. The unknown was scary, but it was also intriguing.

A presence made itself known to her and she turned to face whomever it might have been. She wasn't sure what to think. It wasn't as if she saw his kind every day of the week. The occurrence wasn't often. And she hadn't even spotted him earlier, and the sudden appearance was nearly startling. Regardless, curiosity found her rooted to the spot. She moved away as he forwarded his approach, but not too far. She was almost spellbound by his - pretty darn close - ridiculous appearance. Maybe it was the hair that caught her attention, or the way he simply summoned a staff with such ease out of thin air. Whatever the case might have been, he caught her fancy in some way, and she watched him carefully.

"Ah, but what an adventure that is! One must only make proper use of it. Some are unable - or merely unwilling to try to see the beyond the cons"

It was intriguing, captivating, what he was doing. She had never seen such a display, and to say she wasn't held in rapt attention would be nothing but a lie. Her eyes followed the Pyreflies with awe, her expression dancing with astonishment near veneration. How peculiar that truly was! "What are those?" Color her inquisitive, demanding to know the answers to what she did not know."They remind me of souls. Or they leave that impression. Is that what they are?"

For the meantime, she had completely forgotten that he was a stranger, an alien to her. That fact no longer mattered to her. There were other things of questionable worth. Why he was here, why he had chosen to stop and speak to her. Had he overheard her croon to the blubberbeast? Had it been enough to stop him in his tracks, to consider putting aside some time to figure her out? It was all so enigmatic in its own right, and she intended to puzzle out most of them by the time they were through.

"No." Her response was quick, without hestitation. "Why should I feel sad for it? Its time is done. It has completed its cycle. It has finally come to its last stepping stone, and it will experience wonders. What those wonders could be? It'll see for itself!" It wasn't so bad. This blubberbeast would soon realize that, if it hadn't already in its realm. Or had it really gone over? She thought of those mysterious insects, or whatever they were. All she knew was that they were surreal, almost dreamlike.

She smiled at his bow and, if anything, she parroted the action with glee, if finding it more amusing to do than anything. Coming out of her own bow, if not so deep as his had been, her wings flashed in an excited whir and she leaned forward conspicuously, the highlights of her face clearly depicting that blatant curiosity. Again, she chirped an answer readily. "My name is Aradia Megido. A pleasure if there ever was to meet you, Seymour. That is an odd name, if you don't mind my saying." It lacked the same consonants she was used to for her race. Other kinds apart from her own really were an anomaly. But that's what made them all the more interesting! She liked that.

Aradia merely grinned at Seymour, shrugging her shoulders indifferently. "I don't even know what a Guado is! Is that the name of your race, is that what you are? I mistook you for a human at first, you seem very similar I must say!" Hopefully that didn't offend. She couldn't see why it should.

The girl looked beyond him, walking past him with a bounce in her step and staring more intensely at the ocean than she should have, maybe. Her thoughts were swelling though, and questions were steadily climbing. She wanted to know as much as she could, to wring him of all the answers! The thirst for knowledge was a powerful beast, and it would only be quelled with explanations.

Her heard turned to him, and she blinked. "You seem knowledgeable in death." A comment made as more of a statement than that of a question. What could she say, though? She was in fascination.

Experience: 840 (1,680)
Total Experience: 2,560

[Seymour Guado]

How very curious.

She did not seem to understand much of the cycle of suffering, the constant groaning fiends that could bubble out of a shattered soul, otherwise he doubted she would speak such charming words of adventure. She did not protest, either, when he preformed the sending - further making his point.

"You do not know?" He could not help but to be surprised by that question of all things. Children knew of pyreflies. "They are memories, all but the remains of a soul."

As she continued, he found a genuine smile bursting onto his face. He had honestly never encountered someone like this. With her melodic voice and bright eyes she spoke words that carried such sombre weight, but made them seem wonderful. He himself felt entranced enough to drink from them, if for a little while.

"You are not from here, are you, Lady Aradia?" A second name was an oddity. Normally it was used only to mark the species, but he would feel foolish asking if she belonged to a race of Megidos. Perhaps she came from the tribe Megido, some collection of people who had turned to the mountains and painted their skin grey and covered themselves in the remains of animals.

To not know what a Guado was only brought him a sense of disbelief. They were a small tribe, but loathed enough to be well known. He could not accept that the rock she had lived under would have prevented her from knowing something like that, particularly when combined with her apparent ignorance of pyreflies. Did she move too close to Sin? Did she suffer from his toxins - and still had not fully recovered? The insane could often be the most entertaining. He would choose not to complain.

"Your name betrays nothing foreign. Your eyes... However," he looked down towards those hawk like eyes, "Bear the mark of a Ronso, and yet you have no fur to ruin your face."

Pausing, he found himself laughing at her rather bold statement. He appeared human? "You flatter me," he stated bluntly. Lifting a hand, he shaped the drying spike on his forehead, already starting to return to its gravity defying form. "I do apologise for misleading. I am half human. It is easier to describe myself as Guado. Few can see how I differ from them." Offering his hand, he uncurled his fingers, claws swirling the air - before touching it to his forehead to draw attention to the veins on his face. "It seems I took more from my father."

Slowly lowering his hand, that thought lay bitterly on his mind. How sad it was, that he seemed to inherit his fathers obtrusive hair and ugly hands, while the subtleties of his body would be dictated by his mother's grace. He should have been thankful for it. When he glanced to a mirror, she did not immediately haunt him. He would rather rage than sorrow.

He expected she would betray the root of her origins by now. If she did not want to reveal such things, then he could wait a while longer before pressing her. Where those wings real? He swore he saw them flutter, and yet they looked so paper thin. A butterfly. She resembled a butterfly. Even her voice flitted to and fro like one.

Her final question was an excellent one. He revelled in it. "I have had much experience with death." Looking back to the whale, he allowed thoughts to seep through, "All of Spira has. Yet I am a summoner. It is my duty to know of death."

He mused on what she had to say earlier, of grand adventures and stories of what lay for the dead beyond the veil. He assumed she was speaking of the farplane, which was as expansive as it was beautiful. Wonders indeed. Yet in all four times he had faced death, he had never been presented with such treasures. He could remember nothing after his sending.

"Many find only sorrow in the ending of life." Sighing, he continued, "Yet I see it as freedom. It is a journey into peace. A release."

"This creature suffered greatly in the hours before its demise. The pain of life must have been awful. When it wished and was given death, I could only imagine the sweetness of that escape. It is nothing to be sad about. Yet you seem aware of this."

"You see the beauty in this, do you not? Forgive me for presuming, but if you know of anything, it is death." Pausing, he could not believe how strange this really was. So few agreed to his philosophy, indeed, fuelled by hatred and suffering he was not sure he believed it fully himself, and yet here stood a girl who had never even heard of his name speaking such beautiful verses. She was as though a more happy version of his mother, or of Yunalesca - fuelled by not just by experience but a passion also. He found himself, for the first time in a very long time, giving respect.

She was the only one to whom he had not taught, but rather swapped words with. Whatever tragedy had forced her to see this way had long been defeated by her, and yet even without her suffering she still believed in this. He could see no other way for her thoughts to be so like that, and perhaps it truly was but a product of Sin's toxin. He found no pity to spare her.

"You are admirable," he spoke almost in sincerity.

Word Count: 930
EXP: 1860
Total EXP: 3360

[Aradia Megido]

Oh, was that what they really were? How misleading! "Ah. I see now! Interesting and different," she mused.

She watched as the last one flitted out of view, more or less mesmerized by their glow and unusual qualities. This was a first time experience: she didn't bother to question why he did it, or why they manifested in the way that they did. For a while yet she had resigned herself to simply accepting what came of the places she visited, even if they were so utterly alien and foreign to her concepts. This one, though? It wasn't alarming as much as it was intriguing. Something that she could get behind and have a joy in studying for herself.

This Seymour, she figured, could mostly likely answer all and any questions that she could muster. That worked out in her favour, and on the plus side, he seemed friendly enough. Although she wasn't sure if this was all a play act, some little facade meant to disarm her; for now, she was in line to trust him for the meantime.

The girl of vermilion shook her head in a no, returning his smile easily. "You are correct, I am not." Maybe it was obvious. Did very few, if any, sport butterfly wings like hers? Did they bear horns as hers, or "heroic" finery as she did? She was in the doubt. It was highly unlikely, that.

Aradia tilted her head, at a loss for what a Ronso could be. What were those? Another creature of this realm? If that was the case, she had not a clue as to what they were and how they functioned. She could not hold him at fault, though. How would he know if she had any inkling of their kind? "I'm afraid I do not know what a Ronso is!" She tapped a candy corn coloured horn as if to emphasis the point she was to soon express, fluttering her wings. "I am what is known as a troll. I take it you've never meant one of us, and of that I do not doubt! Actually, I would be surprised if you knew of my kind. Really surprised."

The chances of that were unbelievably low; lower than dirt, lower than the worms and maggots.

So he wasn't a true human, then? How very fascinating. The more she spoke with Seymour, the more she was astonished and felt a curious tug right smack in her feelings, her need, to know more. Curiosity was a wondrous thing at times, prone to instigating investigation and intrigue. And she was completely engrossed. "How peculiar! Do you think you could tell me more about a 'Guado'? I would love to listen and learn of your kind. The more you know and all!"

Her fascination was genuine. With the curve of her lips, the slight lean of her body and the subtle twitch of her wings, perhaps anyone with a half-observing eye could see it. All she wanted was to sit back and hear everything and anything. He had a lot to say, a lot to dispatch. She could tell, or at least, it was what her intuition prodded her to suspect.

"Your answer pleases me." She gave a tilted smile, a flutter of her crimson-patterned wings, before glancing over to where the blubberbeast had been only momentarily. Of what she had suspicions in, she came out to be in the right. Of what he implied, and of what he so reverently spilled just then and there, confirmed it with undeniable clarity. She could very nearly see the way the experience of death coated him. If she could dare say, he wore it as a robe, maybe even burdened by the very same aspects.

Death had many revelations, many answers and even put to the fore questions unassailable. Many could learn a thing or two about its finer qualities, of what it could mean and the potential uses it could have from the knowledge gleaned.

Quietly, she turned to face him properly, feeling that it would no longer be dignified or right of her to face him improperly. "You could say that," she answered him slowly, almost in a whisper. A bulls-eye if anything. She had met death face to face, had she not? Seen it through the hellfire of blue and red, an almost ironic choice of hues to both colour and herald her death if there ever was one. But she had cheated it, and in the end, conquered it in her ascension. Oh, how the reaper must have been gnashing his teeth, fire in his very eyes, to lose his grasp on a life he had taken for his own! Death stoked very little fear in her now, or anything of utmost concern. The remaining fright she had held for it had burned to ashes in the fleeting moments of life before death, when a friend acted as the silent messenger unawares.

"You could also say death and I are old acquaintances." She said nothing further, but when he spoke his admiration she giggled to herself more than anything, her temporary sombre face immediately melting into quiet happiness as she sported him a quick bow, flourishing her wings cheerfully.

An unexpected compliment, but she took it regardless, unabashed. "You flatter me. I could say the same to you, though!"

Experience: 892 (1,776)
Total Experience: 4,336

[Seymour Guado]

Her ambiguousness grew more wearing, now. To say it was different and interesting was certainly a very strange thing to say. Had she truly been near Sin's toxin so recently? Or had she somehow avoided death since that contact. This seemed impossible, with the Eternal Calm.

Was she so pure as to have never experienced death? Was this why she acted so kindly towards it - was it just a new concept to her? Yet she spoke words of wisdom far beyond her time. He refused to believe her to simply be naive.

"Did you hide among the trees? Pardon my asking, but all of Spira is my home. I never knew of a race of Trolls." Yet here she spoke with a cultured tongue, one that did not betray any kind of uneducated tree-hopper who knew more of the positions of the sun than the words of books. She was much too articulate to have been hidden like a fiend.

Then how? How did she come to being? Where did she nestle? He supposed she would answer that soon enough, but his mind was truly boggled. "Ah, my apologies. Few Ronso remain, the numbers far too small to recoup a population. It is understandable that you would not have heard of them." Laughter came very close to his mouth, and he almost yearned to tell her that it was he who had quelled their suffering. Cutting them down truly had been a pleasure. Loyal fools. "They bear blue fur. I would say they resemble a common house cat. A horn sits on their heads, which they are extremely proud of. They are a primitive culture, or once were. No doubt they have abandoned their snowy caves on Mount Gagazet and fled to the cities."

Her next question, however, brought that smirk back in full force. Glancing down at his soaked body, he was starting to shiver in the cold - but this was far too important to simply give up. Running his fingers through his hair in irritation, he encouraged the larger spikes to properly reform - though they were still too weighed down with water.

"The Guado are a fascinating race," he thought for a while. The Guado in reality were nearly as primitive as the Ronso. They were a backwoods, solemn race who spent too much time with their head in the clouds. Purposely isolated from the rest of the world, they were an arrogant and proud people - easily played by words of racial nationalism. Nearly all of them were idiots clinging to tradition. "They live in hollows made from wood. Their hair differs little from my own, though it tends to be a more constrained and rough. Most have longer hands than I, and nearly all of them are swifter than I could ever hope to be. Some have described them as creatures of life itself, so close are they to the trees."

Crossing his arms so as to conserve some form of heat, he continued, "They are keen to the scent of the dead. They live by the farplane, the place where sent souls go to rest. An ancient race, they hide from the world for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. My father wed a human mother, breaking that tradition of isolation. No one believed they could have a child."

There was a very slight change in his expression, just the tiniest of cracks before his mask was resumed. "I was that child. Born to unite the Guado and the Humans." Her keen alertness was truly something to be praised, history lessons should have bored people of her age. "I am the leader of Guadosalam."

"I grow tired of hearing my own voice. Tell me, of trolls," he implored. Really, he did not want to hold the hands of a child and guide them through the world. That certainly would not aide him in his quest to re-understand it - yet perhaps she could give him new eyes. She had secrets, surely, tucked away under her robe.

Her response to his flattery seemed to go down well, and as he expected she too was closer to death than her appearance would betray. He wondered whatever happened to her. Had her whole race been whipped out by Sin? Erased forever under a blanket of water - leaving only this pretty girl to be so damaged? He could not see her crying. Ever. She was much too happy, that smile wearing her well. Perhaps it was just a way to cope.

"I know many who would say otherwise," he smiled, "No matter. And please, there is no need for such formalities," he stated in regards to her bow. "You are polite, there is no need to be overly so."

As the chilling wind stung against his chest a final time, he chose to tactfully slip in, "Are you staying at the village?"

Word Count: 820
EXP: 1640
Total EXP: 5000

[Aradia Megido]

It was still in her right to be enticed. How often did she get the chance to meet people of a different kind? Dersians, Prospitians, humans; they were wearisome now. The term been there, done that surfaced in the pool of her mind. There were other favourable experiences to be had, people to see, places to explore. With the adventurer in her awoken, more alert than ever before, she had an itch to get up and going.

Seymour prevented that from being fully realized for the moment, and at any other time and place, maybe it would have rankled her somewhat. If only because she couldn’t go out and investigate everything she could lay her eyes on, or even touch. There was always a desire to hold objects of interests, to get a feel of them. For the longest time she had been a creature of the sense of touch, always in awe of fine artifacts and ghosting her fingers over them, as though a more personal feel could endow her answers unheard of.

Spira? Was that where she was? Her aimless wanderings must have taken her far. As far as she was concerned, it looked like earth in more ways than one, despite its misleading name. “Oh, no! I did not. I have only just got here.” Unsurprising, that he did not know her race. Maybe it was for the best that he did not know. There would be little use in knowing of them, anyway; unless he was a man of knowledge, a man who thirsted for more intelligence at his disposal. Merely knowing of other kinds would be of valuable interest to him she was sure.

She did not know where this Mount Gagazet was, but that was no detail she was concerned with. A thoughtful look adorned her expression, and she laced her fingers together behind her back, head cocked and wings barely, almost inconspicuously, quivering with her mindfulness. “I would be telling a lie through my teeth if I were to say that wasn’t interesting to me.” Aradia looked skyward, dropping her arms at her side and closing her eyes briefly, as if letting the breeze smooth her over. Satisfied, her eyes fluttered open and she looked to him again, smiling a genuine smile. “A lot of your world is interesting, when I think about it. Similar to my own in some ways, in others, not so much. I may or may not have a lot to ask of you! If you would be so kind – and so patient – as to bear with me. I hope so, at least!”

Her eyes drifted to his hair, still bogged down a bit by the salty water, before back to his face. She noticed that he seemed cold; and that was understandable. Aradia refrained from alluding to it though, in case he might have been the proud, haughty kind who would not appreciate that pointed out and recognized. She listened in rapt attention to everything he said, observing her new company and the changes of expression that flitted across his face. That was enthralling. “Fascinating…that is an appropriate term to describe your kind! I find myself intrigued. They sound so different from my own and by more than just appearance as is.”

Of course he would want to know. Curiosity was not solely meant for those of humans – it stretched to every kind, and thus, it did not shock her once he asked of her to tell him of trolls. But oh, where to begin? She supposed there was a lot she could say. Yet there were some things she also did not know. Being considerate, she rested a finger to her chin in thought, pacing forward a few steps and knitting her brows. “Oh, we are not incredibly interesting,” she said meekly, modestly. “We are a race of violence, you could say. Or so that it what our society would have us to belief; that to show any kind of compassion would be to display weakness. Aggressive behaviour is a must.

“Our ways of…procreating, I would imagine, are different than yours. Gender does not matter. As grubs, we face trials during our very first wriggles to determine if we are fit to live. There’s a lot I could say, really,” Aradia confessed. A lot more than she was taking for granted. “Different horns, different signs, different colours of blood; that of which dictates many.”

She looked away from him, to the horizon of the ocean, and back to him. “I’m a maroon blood, one of the lowest of the low. The lower our blood on the hemospectrum, the shorter we live; and seen as the scum we supposedly are by those thought as more ‘noble’.” She paused, smiling slightly. Perhaps a bit overboard.

“Maybe I should apologize. That’s a lot of information to sink in! And there’s still more to tell. In a way I am an anomaly if only by teeth and disposition. Most of my kind have sharp teeth, not flattened ones.” The maid bared them in another smile, as though to emphasis her point, before nodding her affirmation. “My bad! I’m just a little over-enthusiastic, possibly. I’ll try to tone myself down but, that might prove to be a little difficult!”

Staying at a village was the furthest from her mind, currently. She frowned, considering it for a second. It didn’t take long for a shake of the head to dismiss the contemplation. “No, I am not. I don’t think I will, either. The adventurer’s heart in me would not permit it. I think I’d rather move along, nonstop. See as many things as I can. Sightseeing and journeying about is what I’d prefer.” Cooped up in a single village? She’d have none of that. There were clearly many places beyond this slumbering, quiet beach to see for her very own eyes. There was no way she would pass up the opportunity that presented itself to her so easily. She was not so dismissive as that.


Experience: 1,005 (2,009)
Total Experience: 6,345

[Seymour Guado]

Just got here?

What... Had she just mentioned another 'world'? He reeled at this prospect, and felt perhaps a twinge of embarrassment for not deducting that sooner. He could see it now, how alien she was. How strange her skin now seemed, those horns and wings very much real. Her tongue betrayed an accent not native to this world. Yet to think of her as an alien, that was a huge culture shock.

He listened as politely as he could as she started to speak of her own world. A violent world, hmm? It seemed that even with all the strife's and suffering Spira had went through beneath Sin, her own descriptions seemed far more nightmarish. Still, thinking back to the Bevelle-Zanarkand wars that had once raged, perhaps their worlds were not as different in history as she perhaps thought.

It was when she spoke of how they mated that he found it hard to suppress a laugh. Was that really the first thing that would spring to her mind? Still, what she spoke of seemed rather... Repulsive. Yet in retrospect, being pushed from between a woman's legs was hardly elegant. Grubs, though, really? Was she an insect of some description? A tiny ant, carrying the wears of the world on her shoulders? Wherever then, was her Queen?

The blood caste, too, was strangely fascinating. He could tell it differed little from the racist feelings that had plagued Spira from the Guado and the Ronso and the Humans, all vying for dominance over matters as silly as fur on flesh. It was this debate over blood colour that truly showed how silly those thoughts were. Seeing another creature's racism over insignificant details would do that.

This... Was useful information, however. Perhaps more useful than it seemed. He learned a lot about her. She was a poor girl, one who looked back on her experiences with disgust. He imagined that she had seen many of her equal blooded friends face death. He imagined she too had been persecuted, and perhaps even come very close to death.

So when she apologised, he waved it away, "No need. I have been far less entertained and far more overwhelmed before." Watching her be ridiculous, he smiled for her in response, teeth as flat as hers. "Tell me then, is that why you fled?"

Pausing, he allowed some comments to trickle forth, "You should not doubt the interest of your history. I share more with you than you realize."

Should he truly open up that box? That little nest that ha been buried in his soul. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to pry open the lid, but by her charms and by his need to have her on his side - he let the secrets free.

"I suffered ill treatment. My birth did nothing to unite the Guado and the Humans," he, just like her, did not fail to smile when he told the most horrendous of tales. "I was considered an abomination. My veins bear maroon blood, perhaps that is why." He laughed, lightly, but pressed on, "I was exiled."

Examining her expressions, his face did not change. "My return was met with disdain. I had grown powerful. Yet there was begrudging respect, in the end. Power has a way of turning people's opinions, do you not think?"

Fear did not always equal respect, but truly he had seen it with his own eyes. Suddenly those men who had called for his destruction turned to worship him, if only for a better position in life or perhaps out of fear of slaughter. He would never be that cruel though. Men would die only when purpose called.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps you misunderstand me," her last statement was warming. She still had much to see, if Besaid was all she had to witness. "I meant only for rest."

Pausing, he decided now it best to drop some form of manipulation. How far could she be pressed, he wondered? "You seek to bring equality, do you not?" He unfolded his arms, letting them fall to his sides. "Death brings equality. All things die the same."

Tilting his head, he followed on, "That is why we are not afraid. Why we are strong." In the face of everything, it was just an act, but never mind.

"Lady Megido, in your travels you will see much inequality in this world," he offered a hand. "I ask you, would you join me in bringing an end to such suffering?"

Word Count: 750
EXP: 1500
Total EXP: 6500

[Aradia Megido]

So he thought she had fled? The Guado was sorely mistaken in his assumption. Of the many aspects that made her who she was, a coward was not one of them. Running away from problems was not what she did. If anything, attempting to reach out and assuage them was her preference.

She supposed she could ignore the slight blight and blunder that he made. He did not know. And for that, she held nothing against him.

"Oh no, you think wrong there. I haven't fled from anywhere. It's by complete accident that I'm here at all!" A disappointing error of judgement from her part. How was she supposed to know that she had been on the way to an unforeseen oversight? At least, from there, she had learned to better herself. No taking a leap into the unknown without looking; even if it was something familiar to begin with. Increased awareness and caution overall, really. That's what she now sported under her belt.

It didn't matter if he realized it or not, but throughout the whole encounter, she studied him carefully behind her cheery disposition and radiant sunbeam smiles, behind the silly bows and almost naïve quality of her actions. There might have been a hint of trust, giving the other a chance, but it was not completely so. Amicable as she was, it was no excuse to completely give way to total acceptance. She had every right to be wary. So far, she had found no reason to hightail out of a dangerous situation, as none presented a viable enough excuse to, though.

The girl inclined her head in a mimicry of apology. Of course, how awfully ignorant of her. Had he been anyone else, and perhaps her race's history would have amounted to valueless worth. Clearly he could appreciate a good history lesson, or the virtues and sins of another kind. Maybe it was this countenance that he bore that allowed for her to view him with little more than honest respect.

"That almost sounds terrible."

And maybe it was terrible. Did he hold to heart any anger, a grudge, against the brethren who had sneered down on him? "I'm sure it goes without saying that you know, as well as I, that suffering is just unavoidable. Simply second nature, a part of life all but certain!" Saying so may have been redundant to him, a fact that was already embedded in his very mind. Someone such as himself seemed knowledgeable in many regards.

"I have no doubt that power corrupts in that way!" It only made sense. Power got to peoples' heads. It tainted them in more ways than one should they allow it a footfold, profound or not. In some ways, it was interesting, how that worked. How it blinded. How it effected some, but had none on another. It was safe to say that the power of time at her disposal warped little to none of her own thoughts. She had remained as much herself as ever, before her death.

Jumping to the wrong conclusions again. She scolded herself, but outwardly, kept more or less behind a barrier of smiles. "Oh! How silly of me. But no, I don't think I will even consider rest, either. There's too much to do and to see for that right now!" Yes, far too much to be squandering her valuable time at a village merely to sleep a night and day away. There were friends she had to find, for she felt - with every fibre of her being - that they were out there somewhere. If she could find Equius, Nepeta, Gamzee, Tavros, her friend's ancestor for crying out loud, then she was as sure as a hissbeast's strike that the others were running amuck, somehow.

The Maid of Time fell to quiet, monitoring Seymour more closely than she had before the moment he dropped his next questions. It made her wonder, with the way it was delivered. A thorn among roses, perhaps? Maybe it was time to tread carefully. Although, in all honesty, she was no sure how to respond and her wings beat in agitation. She had already reserved herself and braced every nerve for any inevitable crossing with such nuances as inequality. As accustomed to it as she was, admittedly, it still set burrs beneath her skin - an irritation that never quite left her. The only comforting thought that prevailed was the absence of the idiocy of a blood caste. Not that that even did much on its own.

"That depends," the young troll answered slowly. "Depends on how you plan on going about it."

Her eyes drifted to his hand, but she made no more of a movement than that. Her stare was as close a touch as he'd get for the meantime. Eventually, they shifted to his face, as if she could discern the true meaning behind his words through the windows to the soul. "What means do you intend to use to end suffering?" she stated quite bluntly, a soft frown dawning her lips, gaze adamant in remaining fixed on his face. There was no denying death's morbid fascination to her; but if he thought it was her answer to everything, another sour mistake on his part.

Experience: 878 (1,756)
Total Experience: 8,100

[Seymour Guado]

He did not sense the offence from her. Even her argument that this was by accident seemed unlikely. Yet, would it not be so very fitting? He had stumbled on her by only chance, and begun to speak to her only by the death of a whale - even his very rebirth had been somewhat of an accident. Certainty had lost it's touch.

He had no need to pry further, no need to care about her origins. This would be important soon enough, but not now. He had to reaffirm his bonds with her, before he started to hack into her past. He suspected she was lying, anyway, or at least swallowing the whole truth. What other worlds lay beyond the door he could not know. She would not show him how to open it, the only information he needed, not now, anyway.

He would wait.

Her later statements could have made him cringe, but he knew it to be the thoughts of so many. Suffering of course could be cleansed, it was simply that the people were too afraid to see the true answer. Of course suffering was a part of life. A stigma that attached itself to all corners of this cycle, boxing it in and leaking through every fibre and every strand. The only way to let loose its hold was to cut those threads apart, and let the cycle flow to nothing with it. He would have thought she could have least seen that, no matter, she had potential.

Her comments on power were a cliché. One he agreed with, he supposed - "Ah, but power in the right hands can bring about salvation." It was true enough, should the leader be born and bred well. Yet he saw a beautiful frown cut her face, a sign of her displeasure.

Clearly she did not agree with what he was implying.

Yet he had been careful enough to cover himself, to not let her run away quite yet. "Perhaps you misunderstand me, I apologise."

Withdrawing his hand, he curled it to his side, though the offer was still very much in place. "I did not mean to stir repulsion."

"I mean only to bring peace. With you by my side, such a task would be easier. Already I see the foolishness of racism when you speak of the inconsequential arguments around the blood system," he blinked, placing his hands behind his back. Pacing, he began to spurt yet more words, "It would pacify them. Calm them. You and I would not bring an end to suffering this way, but we would ease it."

Balling his hand into a fist and resting it on his chest, he turned back to her. "You and I could change Spira." Tilting his head, he added, "Would that not be thrilling?"

He could not speak to her about his desire to eradicate life. She was not ready. If he tried to put the harness on too soon, she would bite and kick and scream. He had to let it on gently, and so very soon her mind would be in tune with his. The foundations were already there. He simply had to be patient.

Laughing, he lowered his hands again, dispelling his euphoria. "Forgive me. I have been alone in my philosophy for so long. I grow overly bold. I ask too much and give you little time to think."

She had seen his weakness, though not all of it. He had given to her, and she had given back. Would she take the apple when it was presented? He saw no harm in it, for her, not yet. She might have been afraid, wary, cautious. To her he was a stranger, and he had spoken of grand things - monstrous things.

"After all, this meeting was an accident," he mused, drawing in her previous statements. "And perhaps it is I who requires rest. Your energy seems never to quell."



"Is it okay that my willy is curly? And blue???***

Word Count: 670
EXP: 1340
Total EXP: 7840

*** I wanted a creepy wee question but I couldn't think of one so why not dicks?????

[Aradia Megido]

She would say that it was fate that brought their paths together, that it was its hand that directed them to this very beach. Perhaps the whale was its means to cross those paths so that they may meet - it was too coincidental a happenstance for it to be otherwise, she felt. What were the chances of two beings come across each other that sported a knowledge, an appreciation, of death? There weren't many that could see eye to eye on the aspects of death after all: it frightened people. Scared them off.

The unknown did that. She was all too aware of it. And when the unknown was in play, when those could not understand what the implications or the meanings or the hidden secrets could be, the person in question could be unpredictable. Aggression, a nonsensical need to wipe that issue from the face of existence; a desire to flee, to never look back upon the mystery.

It happened all the time. But this man was not one of those who were afraid, and as such, death held no kind of debilitating power over him. Much like herself. It was one of the few facts that kept her rooted to the spots instead of turning tail and leaving him where he should. That, and she was confident in her abilities to prevent any kind of disaster coming her way. All she would have to do was lift a hand, concentrate her mind on a focal point, and he would be frozen in time where he stood, should he attempt any funny business.

Not that was particularly worried about that to begin with. She still gave him the benefit of the doubt, as he had made no threatening gestures, no intimidating movements to rally more than a suspicious look. "What a rare occurrence that would be, though. To find someone so strong willed enough that power would not bring them to their knees and cloud their vision," she mused out loud, nearly to herself. Power was a delicate thing to handle: not in the way that it was as fragile as the finest porcelain, but to the ends that it was easily corruptible.

Her attention returned once more to him and his earlier offer, and she watched him attentively, wings twitching and brows slightly knit together in thought and rapt consideration. "An ease to suffering, a way to pacify them, huh..." It sounded ideal to her. Who wouldn't want that for anyone? To rid of such racism, to obliterate unequal statuses. It truly was an appealing way to think about it, but she was still unsure. He was dancing around the answer of how he intended to go about it. How he expected to bring about this sort of revolutionary idea and push it forward. Until then, she wasn't sold. Until then, she wasn't about to agree to anything. There were still concerns nagging her, and she was not going to jump into anything with the blinders on. Her peripherals needed answering to, not just the straight path ahead of her.

Change Spira? She was, as selfish as it might have sounded, uninterested in the affairs of the world she had found herself in. The places may have been splendid to see, to explore, but when it came down to the issues of the planet itself she had no intention of playing a part. If there were a world that she would, it would be Alternia. Mentioning how thrilling it would be was a tantalization, though. That word always got her, and more so beyond the simple enjoyment of the ring it gave.

She frowned more heavily. Her arms crossed at her chest, and her gaze deterred from his face and expression to stare thoughtfully at the sandy ground. Decisions, decisions. "I admit it would be...thrilling." She tasted the word on her tongue. Honestly, it was nice, the way it rolled off so easily. Still: "However, Spira doesn't concern me. What use does this place have for me?" She spread her arms out, as if to imply her gesture to the world around them. They dropped to her sides for another time, and her head tilted quizzically. Eye narrowed slightly. "I'm not sure if that would truly benefit me either way. It might give some satisfaction, but, if I were to do this for anything, it would be Alternia."

He did not share her views about fate, did he? It was enough that he counted their meeting as an "accident" above all else. Aradia shrugged. "Oh, I don't know! I would be more liable to say it was fate that brought our paths to one. Who's to say?" She liked to think of it in that way. That and the intricacies of destiny always had a say; many just didn't recognize it, or refused to. A smile carved her face, however, at his observation of her almost endless energy.

"Ever since my ascension, I feel like I could go on and on and never rest!"

Experience: 837 (1,674)
Total Experience: 9,774