Quiet Disposition

[Deleted]

He felt his black boot dig into the soil, pushing it backwards to indent into the sandy substance below, leaning his entire body towards his right side. The wheels of his bike lifted a little as well, finally balancing out on the ground as he had come to a stop on one of the highest points of Mount Stigma. He took a step off his bike, a thing he called Syphyr, letting it stand on its own as he walked away from it to the very point of the ledge. He looked downwards at the large star-shaped stake in the ground, closing his eyes in rememberance, seeing the smiles on the faces of his mother and father. Those smiles were taken from them, from him, by someone who had no right to do so. His entire life, he believed in becoming a soldier, and when he finally achieved it, it was like he had made the biggest mistake he could possibly imagine. He slowly kneeled down on his haunches, staring at the wooden star before him, his right arm coming out from his side to place his fingers against the gentle texture. He kept his eyes closed the entire time, before opening them as he heard a small 'whispering' sound. The winds on Mount Stigma carried for miles, and when he heard the noise, he didn't move an inch. If there was someone behind him, he'd know it in a moment or two.

"I'm sorry, Mom..."

[Jack Serithva]

From coming out of Ragnarok, Jack had already caused an explosion there but it seems something else was there. However it didn't matter...it was none of his business anymore. That city was probably engulfed by the darkness there. From the moment everything began, the darkness flowed evenly out. But where is the source on this planet Jack kept pondering about. Hearing that Mount Stigma was one of the places untouched by the Doors of Tommorow and it seemed to have all the answers. Jack was floating up the mountain scale, and at the last portions climbing it. Once he finally got up, he saw a blonde man just about as tall as he was or taller that seemed to mutter words, but it was too late for Jack to hear them. From then on, Jack walked up and felt an odd aura around the place. What seemed to be around here that was so.....strange. Like time itself was here...

"....Secrets lie in these mountains. Pardon me, young traveler, but do you know anything about Mount Stigma? Anything that it is connected too....because I sense that time itself originiated here and the secrets of this world...are here."

[Rogue Flesche]

As Mount Stigma so shortly lied before Rogue's deep green eyes, she quickly realized that she no longer needed the guidance of the young boy strolling before her. Some distance back, Rogue had asked for a guide, but didnt quite expect a child to be the one leading her closer to the Elysium Plane. Foolish little one... T'is a shame you bear such a short life that I must take.

It was just within a lightly wooded area that Rogue was crouched over the small body, suckling slowly to savor the fresh flavorful taste of a child's blood. Rogue, cloaked heavily in dark reflective type garb, had lifted her head just in time to peer over the bushel before her to see someone approaching the area. Though still a short distance off, Rogue's exquisite eyesight through the early eve aided in then noticing that yet another individual had appeared. They seem to gather there... at that stake. Rogue seemed to slightly misunderstand its importance, T'is not so far, I shall also go there.

Rogue left the small deadened body beneath the bush, using the staff she carried to help her begin to trek up the trail that would lead her higher up the mountain's side. Though Rogue's flesh was mostly insensitive to the light of day, the precautions she took seemed extensive- the several layers of heavy clothing, doubled hoods to cover her head, and a layer of sunblock that caused Rogue's pale skin to look much like fresh milk. She pulled down from her hair a pair of reflective sunglasses, mirroring the rocky trail that laid before her. Rogue seemed stronger, suddenly, her belly filled with fresh young blood, and new life pumping through her veins.

[Trust Souimah]

She had to get out of there. She had to get out of that city, the one that lived off of artificial light.

Of course, with the panic she had felt to leave Ragnarok, Trust had taken no time in doing what her mind yelled at her to do. The Light Sage had left Ragnarok, the one place on this damned world that she couldn't stand since life lifted from the ashes of destruction. So, she did what any person would do; she went back home. Back to Mount Stigma. And Luckily for her, she hadn't met Alex along the way.

Trust had been walking the winding paths of the Mountains since she had arrived home, enjoying the feel of the natural outdoors. She had pushed the hood of her white, orange-lined cloak off of her head, freeing her long orange-tipped silver hair, allowing her rebellious bangs to fall over her right eye. Her orange orbs closed as she tilted her head back to bask in the warm sun...

...That was, until she heard voices, one apologising to a lost entity, and the other posing difficult questions. Opening her eyes once more, she lifted her gaze to the cliff that jutted out of the mountian peak, one that wasn't too far from where she was standing now. Trust never bothered to put her hood back up as she began to climb the short distance to the peak, though she realized she may be recognized and shot with one too many questions.

Upon climbing to the top, Trust kept a bit of a distance between the two men and herself, mainly out of respect. Her face was drawn with grief from unwanted memories her small form housed.

She spoke; and her voice was surprisingly soft.

"I'm...very sorry for your loss..."

[Deleted]

"I know nothing of this place.."

He had heard the man from behind seconds before, but he took his time in answering, slowly pulling himself up to his feet. Not even a few seconds later, before the man could even respond, another voice shot through the air, this time proving a bit more interesting than the last. It was the voice of a woman, one who had obviously heard his apology to his aforementioned mother. He would not turn around to face the two who were behind him, yet kept an eye on them from over his right shoulder. He had been out here for hours it seemed, seeking an answer to a question he had been asking since the death of his parents. Why? Why had they been taken from him, and why was it that he had to suffer for the mistakes of others? It had taken him long enough to distance himself from those that had done this, quitting his active soldiering duty as part of the Sentry unit. He stared out into the sky past the mountain tops, standing quite close to the edge of the cliff.

"As are those that truly suffered it..but I still have my memories, and they still have their vengeance.."

[Jack Serithva]

"...I see. I'm sorry for your unhappyness...I, too, am the same way..live on with sorrow in my life."

Then he turned around to hear and see the feminine voice that was behind the two warriors. To his surprise it was Trust..how was she here...he thought. But then he remembered from the books he read in Eidolon...she was the Sage of Light. Ah, yes it all came clear to him now. However hopefully she would remember him. He smiled as he walked up over to her as he bowed.

"...Trust. It's been a while. I have not seen you in years...do you remember me? It's Serithva....Jack Serithva...How have you been?"

Clearly he was surprised to see her. He had not seen her for years...last he saw of her was in the Blackfyre days. Time's have changed he thought...time's had really changed..hopefully she'd recognize him by the red hair.

[Rogue Flesche]

The able bodied Rogue had taken its last step, close enough to those who'd gathered that even a measely human could make out their words through the whistling wind. Rogue stood quite still, listening as though their banterings could be of any use to her, though she knew better than to care at all for such trashy creatures. Her heavy clothing gently bat itself against her long thin body, and tresses of her dark red hair fluttered before her, hardly obstructing her shaded vision. She figured all three to be of the simple-minded race, the light fumes from the motorcycle throwing off Rogue's scent.

I wonder if any of the three would care to visit the Elysium Plane with me, this eve... Rogue's thoughts seemed one-track as she'd traveled. Her eyes carefully scanned those before her, unsure if she could handle much of a fight just yet, for she could still feel some weakness in her psuedo-frail body. Nevertheless, she remained there upon the rocky edge resembling a vulture perched atop a stree, waiting for her move.

[Fate Ormoriam]

Trudging forward and keeping intently within the shade of the greenery,the lurking vampire creeped slowly up the path before him,being less then a mile a mile away the chattering of the gathering people before him seemed like whispers in his head,making out each thing they say and slowly allowing it to add up.


The raven black,almost naval length locks of the gloomy,completely black attired man danced about his form,slapping violently to the leather of his body molded,extremely high collared,onyx black trenchcoat. Hanging freely at his side being the nearly ageless vampire saber,The MournBlade,the magnificiant,lumincescent glow of the vermillion colored blade gleaming off to peirce the vision of any wandering hue.


His lifeless hues glanced about as he neared the group of people,the dim moonlight cascading down about him,causing his porcelain hued flesh to illuminate a pale glow. The vampires method of approach never seemed a very respectful one,Nor had he planned on coming across this many people,therefore,upon reaching the group he approached them,turned,and began proceeded forth toward the edge of the cliff,Fairly close to the female vampyre,Rogue. Tipping his slender cranium,his meloncholic facial features changed not as his vampiric,amber colored hues glanced about. i wonder if i should speak.. He thought.


I wonder if i should speak..Did i just say that out loud?

Did i just say that out loud? He thought to himself,tipping his head,a rather suspicious look adorning itself to his features within moments of this thought peircing his mind.