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 The Redemption of Persephone Kirionis

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Join date : 2012-02-04

The Redemption of Persephone Kirionis Empty
PostSubject: The Redemption of Persephone Kirionis   The Redemption of Persephone Kirionis EmptyThu Aug 20, 2015 6:53 pm

A familiar wide-brimmed hat bobbed along the winding hill road that lead to the high overlook of the guild hall. The Monster Hunters, having experienced a brief period of fame and glory, had fallen apart, and their guild had done the same. Stray logs and beams from the time of the hall's construction were still laying around, and the doors to the hall were spread open. The contents had probably been ransacked at least once. A dusty wooden barrack, rundown with overgrown weeds and hedges, was all that would greet its old host.

Alec Smith's eyes peeked over the road at last. A faint golden hue in his eyes denoted his allegiance, but the obsidian cloak draped over his old overcoat spoke more clearly of his actions. He stopped at the end of the road, several weapons slung over his shoulder, or holstered within his coat, and a simple Arquebus, Spitfire, gripped in hand. The only other light he'd brought with him was the glow of red embers that lived off the breath of his dying cigarette. Soon, they too were extinguished; he spit the cigarette out and stomped it under his heel. "...Never thought I'd come around here again..."

Beams of sunlight from the waning day dimly lit the abandoned room, casting shadows of many shapes and sizes on the peeling walls. This room, which once held many great meetings with fine company, sat silent and alone. It was almost as if the shadows of those cheerful friends still dance across the walls, their voices echoed through time. Or it could be that a shadow was, in fact, moving about the room, muttering to itself.

Alec wasted no time in investigating. He approached the entrance of the guild, halting at the doors, and raised an empty hand. Exhaling smoke, he spoke the incantation to a simple spell, and wove its pattern, shaping the Weave to his purposes. His field of vision became the subject of magical detection. Slowly, Alec entered the hall, tracing his weapon over each corner, searching for any dark auras that weren't obstructed or too far away...

A dark presence was undoubtedly here. Its dark trail traces a meandering path throughout the building. The trail is seemingly random, always avoiding the shafts of light, but stops somewhere in the corner, behind a collapsed table.

Alec had his suspicions by now that he had found what he was looking for. Who he was looking for. "Y'know, I never figured it'd come t' this," he said, approaching the corner table, meandering around obstacles. "Taric... I always knew someone had t' kill 'em in the end, before things got too bad." Alec lowered his gun as he stepped under a pillar of light. The cloak gleamed under the fading sun ray. "But you?.. Somehow, I thought there was a way t' make ya better. A way t' make it right." He scoffed under his breath, leaning over to pick up a chair leg with his free hand. "Should'a known better; things ain't ever that easy. Right, Perse?" As he spoke her name, he threw the leg at the collapsed table to rattle it, perhaps knock it out of the way.

The shade's muttering grew louder as Alec neared it. The shadowy form was oblivious, continuing to move about erratically as it muttered nonsense. "...ust wanted to see her... deserved... no... this place, I remember this place... I..." Its 'head' turns. "...Hello, Alec."

Before he could respond, it returned to its stream-of-consciousness muttering. "...why'd they have to kill her? I just... they hurt me so much... I don't want to kill them, they make me... I wish... I wanted to stop... I was getting... no..."

Alec couldn't have responded. He watched and listened to the senseless muttering, and displayed pain and despair more than any mortal wound could grant him. He just stood there under the light, and allowed the remorse to take over for a time as he mourned.

The shade continued walking in an uneven circle, its ethereal form almost floating in the darkness. Again it seemed to notice Alec, turning toward him. "They... they killed her. Everyone I love is... dead... it's my fault... I should not have gone... like this... I... are you... are you here to kill me?"

The words cut deeply into him, almost causing him to stagger. For a time, he couldn't muster up a response. He gripped the cloak and collected himself as much as he could. "...I have to, Perse. Ain't nobody else that can. Nobody else that's willin'." He removed his hat, revealing his features under the light, and the sorrow they held. "Nobody else that cares."

The shade straightened up somewhat. Difficult as it was to make out in the darkness, it appeared as though it had a woman's shape, and its voice suddenly matched. Persephone says, "...I will fight you, Alec... I have to, but... it's okay. It doesn't mean I... think less... of you. I... am grateful. You shouldn't... waste grief... on the likes of me."

Seeing her determination somehow brought him ease, as though his purpose here wasn't hopeless. "Stop spewin' shit," he muttered, taking ahold of a different weapon and raising the gun over is head. "Ya know damn well I'd be a real piece'a shit if I didn't shed a tear for my friends." Power collected into the weapon, runes of energy lighting it up. Without warning, the weapon fired and a field of twisting shapes traveled out of the muzzle and spread over the roof. Not fire or any other destructive power- Alec had used some manner of illusion; he hid the light from the ceiling, and filled the guild with darkness. Lowering his weapon, the human stared at Persephone's aura now that he had no light to rely on.

As darkness filled the room, her aura dissolved into the shadows, spreading out across the room. It seems as though she were everywhere at once.

Alec tucked away the illusion-making-gun. Spitfire remained in his other hand while he searched for another. A caliver pistol was drawn this time, aimed at his own feet. He focused his power into the weapon, and fired; a silvery stream of energy connected with his feet and spread over his body, providing protection and resistance against the forces of evil. "Figured I'd give you a fair fight," he called out. "...It ain't too late to run, Perse." He would stow this pistol after it had served its purpose. "I ain't against chasin' you... Never wanted this chase t' meet its conclusion."