Post by Shei'ki\Agatha on Jul 13, 2008 14:40:30 GMT
Rain swept the hills and plains, giving the grass the moisture it needed to survive. An act of madness was this, it would seem to an alien from some distant world, that water should fall from the sky... but in it, one pair of eyes saw the hands of god.
Beneath a thick, heavy hood, two bright eyes looked skyward, gentle, warm rain driving down onto her face. She could not help but marvel at her father's creation then... now that she was adrift in it... Yes, that was a good word for it. Adrift. She knew too well, touched things with an artist's care, knew the world in a way few people did... for she too was a creator.
The quiet creature, a woman nearing the age of twenty-six by now, had only aged a few years of time since the day she'd been taken to this world over seven years ago, and now stood there in that field, as old and as young as she could possibly get. She'd never change again... unless she wanted to, and this was something she'd become square with by now. She knew she was outside the boundries, and playing with the developer's tools.
That was how Atsuko was though. Twilight was a time best spent in the rain, for the beauty of nightfall waited for nobody, and it was something she loved. She knew, sure as clockwork, that...
"Aaaaatsuu!" a child's voice came to her through her introspective, distant, but she heard him just fine. Her chin dropped from the sky, and she turned directly to the six year-old running up to her through the puddles and tall grass. She smiled at the boy, and held open her arms, spreading the front of her cloak open. He ran right into her, almost knocking her down into the mud herself, and she shut her arms about him.
"Atsu-Atsu..." the boy said softly, pressing his face to he chest as she smiled caringly down at him.
"Another nightmare, Michael?" she knew him by heart by now, this pure child.
"Yes... Th-this one... i-iit was..." he began, but Atsuko knew the whole thing already, so she pet his head, and stood, holding him safe and dry in her cloak as the images came to her. People... living daily lives... then... then they were just dead. they dried out, blowed away in the wind. Women, men, children, it did not matter. People were dying in those dreams. This was postcognition... and it was alarming.
"Let's get inside quickly, Michael." she said, and the boy nodded. Atsuko started to walking, her cloak whipping as she ran through the puddles like the child had, but her mind was elsewhere then. The hamlet town was her home, and the guards knew that when she came a'running like that, it meant something: she was ordinarily so ponderous and took her time, the creator. She felt their worry as they let her run right past, then resumed their posts. People hurrying home from work in the rain worried as well as they watched her go. Something was brewing, some thought, or that Michael, her adopted son, was sick. What bode ill for their guardian bode ill for all of them. These were the things in their heads as they watched her dash down the streets.
Michael too was worried as his mother's warmth made the moisture dissapear from his body entirely before he even got to their home on the far outskirts; a little livestock farm where she lived as a layworker with him. The door to their flat flew open, and Atsuko set her child down on the bed they shared. He almost put in a word of concern to his goddess-mother, but her magenta eyes silenced him. With a glance, he knew what she was up to. She had a funny way of talking like that.
"When will you be back, Atsu-atsu?" he asked his caretaker, and she chewed on her bottom lip a bit as she stood, thinking quickly. "By morning." she said at last, then bent and kissed him on the forehead. "Get cleaned up son... and get some sleep. Would you like something warm to drink before I go?" she said, thinking of the child's exposure to the rain, even if he was dry now.
He shook his head. He was a brave kid, he knew his mother's work was important if she worried like she did right then. When she chewed her bottom lip in thought, she was worried something fierce. She nodded, standing.
"See you in the morning, son." she said, not calling him by name then, and in a flash (and one hug later) she was out the door again. A small gathering of militiamen were outside her door, roused from their days' work. They were young men, all who had families and day jobs, but when things like this happened... they were Atsuko's knights.
"Ready and waiting, Atsuko." Robert, the captain of the group, said, and bowed respectfully, despite his heavy scale mail.
"Gents... we have some distance to cover." she began, and nodded to the four before her. Robert was the leader of the men, a charismatic man of the age of thirty now. She'd saved his life once, back when he was a bandit in these lands. With her help, he'd been given a new life, and put his charisma and skill with a blade to good use. He had a wife, and a lovely little baby girl to look after, and for the first time in his life, he was a good man who owned land. It was thanks to this goddess, who lived under him as a tenant. She had only to be herself, the miracle worker, and he would let her stay forever, and if he needed it... his blade would defend her.
Shen was a quiet young man, and frail his whole life through. People always told him when he was younger that he'd never make it, that he'd die before he was six. Well, Atsuko thought otherwise. Turns out, he had mana sickness, for he had the leylines in his blood. He was a descendant of sorcerors, and the proper education gave him both the strength to go on, and a magical life he often dreamed of having when he was a child. This woman, his great teacher was his friend, and worked on the same farm as he did. He had white hair, and wore studded leather armor that did not bind his arms or heat too much when he used magic, for it was flesh he wore, not the flesh of stone.
"Yes, teacher, we're with you, as always." he added to this.
Derelei was a heavyset lad, not for fat, but for his massive, muscular frame. He was built like a wall, crafted of muscle and grits rather than stone and mortar. He was a giant, a saiyan who had once tried to destroy this town. Long ago, the warriors of this area had severed his tail, sent him face-down into the dirt, and left him for dead. Well, he DID die. Then he met Atsuko, who knew him. She called to his strong spirit in the darkness of hell, and he grabbed the chance greedily. When he rose, years after his death, she soothed away the dreams of hellfire and the memories of the abyss with love and care. His saiyan blood bid him to fight... so she gave that a calling. He was a skilled warrior, powerful as he was brave, so the job of a martial arts teacher suited him well. His black hair spiked out wildly as it hung to his mid-back and muscled shoulders. He needed no spells or blades to defend himself. He WAS a weapon, and a steady member of the militia. He was instrumental in the defeat of several bandit groups at Atsuko's side. Even his captain was once a bandit he crossed blades with, and he respected him like he respected his goddess. Saiyans only respected strength, so this was quite a feat, considering his captain was a human. Atsuko being strong was like the rain being wet: there was no way to imagine her as otherwise, so he respected her like how one respects a raging tornado or deadly wolf. "How's Michael doing, Atsuko?" he asked.
"He's fine, Derelei... but this isn't about him. Its about one of his visions.
The group collectively groaned a bit, not for disbelief, but for the knowledge of her son's prophetic visions. This was bad, if it had Atsuko like this.
"So let's get cracking, hm? Where to, Atsuko?" a woman's voice came from amidst the men. This voice, lilting like the rain around them, belonged to a young kitten of a girl... rather literally. She was feline, with a coat of snowy white fur and a lithe, graceful frame that moved like a predator's. Kitten was also her nickname. Once, she had actually BEEN a cat. A white mountain lioness, a powerful creature who had once been the bandit king's pet. Now, he was her husband, and stood with her in the militia before Atsuko. She had been hurt in the battle against the goddess and the great Saiyan warrior long ago. Her love of her mate kept her fighting, and his love kept her going. She had earned her chance at being by her love's side from then on, Atsuko had said as she remade her body and reforged her mind. Like everything else, her life got better and better as this woman touched her. She was agile: archery and scouting, these things came naturally to her. Rain was kept at bay by the heavy cloak of the militiamen, sewn by Atsuko herself and made from cloth unlike any other. This was how her militia was equipped, as a rule.
Atsuko did not say another word. They were ready, she was ready, it was time to go. She moved between them to get a clear shot at the horizon, and spread her hands outwards. The air itself began to lift her, bear her aloft on its hands, and she grabbed the rain from the air itself in exchange, forming a pair of wings from the liquid onto her back. The others began to levitate as well, similar wings forming on their backs, the sky itself embracing them tight and firm in its grasp. Once formed, they could move. Atsuko gained a spike of altitude, and soon the others followed suit. They had a long way to travel tonight.
Beneath a thick, heavy hood, two bright eyes looked skyward, gentle, warm rain driving down onto her face. She could not help but marvel at her father's creation then... now that she was adrift in it... Yes, that was a good word for it. Adrift. She knew too well, touched things with an artist's care, knew the world in a way few people did... for she too was a creator.
The quiet creature, a woman nearing the age of twenty-six by now, had only aged a few years of time since the day she'd been taken to this world over seven years ago, and now stood there in that field, as old and as young as she could possibly get. She'd never change again... unless she wanted to, and this was something she'd become square with by now. She knew she was outside the boundries, and playing with the developer's tools.
That was how Atsuko was though. Twilight was a time best spent in the rain, for the beauty of nightfall waited for nobody, and it was something she loved. She knew, sure as clockwork, that...
"Aaaaatsuu!" a child's voice came to her through her introspective, distant, but she heard him just fine. Her chin dropped from the sky, and she turned directly to the six year-old running up to her through the puddles and tall grass. She smiled at the boy, and held open her arms, spreading the front of her cloak open. He ran right into her, almost knocking her down into the mud herself, and she shut her arms about him.
"Atsu-Atsu..." the boy said softly, pressing his face to he chest as she smiled caringly down at him.
"Another nightmare, Michael?" she knew him by heart by now, this pure child.
"Yes... Th-this one... i-iit was..." he began, but Atsuko knew the whole thing already, so she pet his head, and stood, holding him safe and dry in her cloak as the images came to her. People... living daily lives... then... then they were just dead. they dried out, blowed away in the wind. Women, men, children, it did not matter. People were dying in those dreams. This was postcognition... and it was alarming.
"Let's get inside quickly, Michael." she said, and the boy nodded. Atsuko started to walking, her cloak whipping as she ran through the puddles like the child had, but her mind was elsewhere then. The hamlet town was her home, and the guards knew that when she came a'running like that, it meant something: she was ordinarily so ponderous and took her time, the creator. She felt their worry as they let her run right past, then resumed their posts. People hurrying home from work in the rain worried as well as they watched her go. Something was brewing, some thought, or that Michael, her adopted son, was sick. What bode ill for their guardian bode ill for all of them. These were the things in their heads as they watched her dash down the streets.
Michael too was worried as his mother's warmth made the moisture dissapear from his body entirely before he even got to their home on the far outskirts; a little livestock farm where she lived as a layworker with him. The door to their flat flew open, and Atsuko set her child down on the bed they shared. He almost put in a word of concern to his goddess-mother, but her magenta eyes silenced him. With a glance, he knew what she was up to. She had a funny way of talking like that.
"When will you be back, Atsu-atsu?" he asked his caretaker, and she chewed on her bottom lip a bit as she stood, thinking quickly. "By morning." she said at last, then bent and kissed him on the forehead. "Get cleaned up son... and get some sleep. Would you like something warm to drink before I go?" she said, thinking of the child's exposure to the rain, even if he was dry now.
He shook his head. He was a brave kid, he knew his mother's work was important if she worried like she did right then. When she chewed her bottom lip in thought, she was worried something fierce. She nodded, standing.
"See you in the morning, son." she said, not calling him by name then, and in a flash (and one hug later) she was out the door again. A small gathering of militiamen were outside her door, roused from their days' work. They were young men, all who had families and day jobs, but when things like this happened... they were Atsuko's knights.
"Ready and waiting, Atsuko." Robert, the captain of the group, said, and bowed respectfully, despite his heavy scale mail.
"Gents... we have some distance to cover." she began, and nodded to the four before her. Robert was the leader of the men, a charismatic man of the age of thirty now. She'd saved his life once, back when he was a bandit in these lands. With her help, he'd been given a new life, and put his charisma and skill with a blade to good use. He had a wife, and a lovely little baby girl to look after, and for the first time in his life, he was a good man who owned land. It was thanks to this goddess, who lived under him as a tenant. She had only to be herself, the miracle worker, and he would let her stay forever, and if he needed it... his blade would defend her.
Shen was a quiet young man, and frail his whole life through. People always told him when he was younger that he'd never make it, that he'd die before he was six. Well, Atsuko thought otherwise. Turns out, he had mana sickness, for he had the leylines in his blood. He was a descendant of sorcerors, and the proper education gave him both the strength to go on, and a magical life he often dreamed of having when he was a child. This woman, his great teacher was his friend, and worked on the same farm as he did. He had white hair, and wore studded leather armor that did not bind his arms or heat too much when he used magic, for it was flesh he wore, not the flesh of stone.
"Yes, teacher, we're with you, as always." he added to this.
Derelei was a heavyset lad, not for fat, but for his massive, muscular frame. He was built like a wall, crafted of muscle and grits rather than stone and mortar. He was a giant, a saiyan who had once tried to destroy this town. Long ago, the warriors of this area had severed his tail, sent him face-down into the dirt, and left him for dead. Well, he DID die. Then he met Atsuko, who knew him. She called to his strong spirit in the darkness of hell, and he grabbed the chance greedily. When he rose, years after his death, she soothed away the dreams of hellfire and the memories of the abyss with love and care. His saiyan blood bid him to fight... so she gave that a calling. He was a skilled warrior, powerful as he was brave, so the job of a martial arts teacher suited him well. His black hair spiked out wildly as it hung to his mid-back and muscled shoulders. He needed no spells or blades to defend himself. He WAS a weapon, and a steady member of the militia. He was instrumental in the defeat of several bandit groups at Atsuko's side. Even his captain was once a bandit he crossed blades with, and he respected him like he respected his goddess. Saiyans only respected strength, so this was quite a feat, considering his captain was a human. Atsuko being strong was like the rain being wet: there was no way to imagine her as otherwise, so he respected her like how one respects a raging tornado or deadly wolf. "How's Michael doing, Atsuko?" he asked.
"He's fine, Derelei... but this isn't about him. Its about one of his visions.
The group collectively groaned a bit, not for disbelief, but for the knowledge of her son's prophetic visions. This was bad, if it had Atsuko like this.
"So let's get cracking, hm? Where to, Atsuko?" a woman's voice came from amidst the men. This voice, lilting like the rain around them, belonged to a young kitten of a girl... rather literally. She was feline, with a coat of snowy white fur and a lithe, graceful frame that moved like a predator's. Kitten was also her nickname. Once, she had actually BEEN a cat. A white mountain lioness, a powerful creature who had once been the bandit king's pet. Now, he was her husband, and stood with her in the militia before Atsuko. She had been hurt in the battle against the goddess and the great Saiyan warrior long ago. Her love of her mate kept her fighting, and his love kept her going. She had earned her chance at being by her love's side from then on, Atsuko had said as she remade her body and reforged her mind. Like everything else, her life got better and better as this woman touched her. She was agile: archery and scouting, these things came naturally to her. Rain was kept at bay by the heavy cloak of the militiamen, sewn by Atsuko herself and made from cloth unlike any other. This was how her militia was equipped, as a rule.
Atsuko did not say another word. They were ready, she was ready, it was time to go. She moved between them to get a clear shot at the horizon, and spread her hands outwards. The air itself began to lift her, bear her aloft on its hands, and she grabbed the rain from the air itself in exchange, forming a pair of wings from the liquid onto her back. The others began to levitate as well, similar wings forming on their backs, the sky itself embracing them tight and firm in its grasp. Once formed, they could move. Atsuko gained a spike of altitude, and soon the others followed suit. They had a long way to travel tonight.
