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+--- Forum: The Guardian (https://thefirstage.org/forums/forum-19.html)
+--- Thread: The Divine Truth (/thread-668.html)
- Connor Kent - 04-24-2014
The woman seemed to cloak herself in solitude. That always made him a little sad, though he was sure she had her reasons. He revised his assessment. They did not seem like they were together. She seemed to take his comment and think for a moment- or perhaps the moment stretched in his mind as the atmosphere of the place continued to seep into him.
It was strange but the last few days had been such a life changing affair that certain events of the other night- the fight with that creature- had been overshadowed. But now…now that he was thinking about it, now that he let the quiet and the echoes, the darkness and the shadows really sink in, those events became real. There were truly monsters- creatures, things that could turn from mist to a man and back again- that preyed on people. The stories and movies and tv shows from childhood had been safe fun diversions. But reality was a bath of cold water. One could almost sense darkness in the air. Above ground, the buildings had been bleak and hopeless- it was why he decided to take this train ride to some other location in his explorations of the city. But if that was above ground, bathed in the weak light of the sun, this was worse. Or maybe I’m just jumping at shadows, he said to himself trying to laughing it off.
His momentary reverie was broken by the woman’s comment. “You get used to it.
” He felt foolish for having allowed this place to get to him. It’s not this place, idiot. It’s the other night.
He was about to say something when he heard the clink of glass on metal in the distance. He had already been looking in the direction from where it seemed to have come, one of the black tunnel mouths. Clink! And then sound of pebbles being kicked. He stared off into that blackness, hand slowly going into his jacket pocket where he kept his knife. He hadn’t completely forgotten about that night. He could feel the other two people at his side, see them peripherally, and they didn’t seem disturbed. Get ahold of yourself! Three people and maybe he was the only one that was armed. He thought about Aria and wished he had a sword. As long as I’m wishing, I wish I had Jensen or Giovanni here too, he thought irritatedly.
Outwardly, other than simply putting his hand in his pocket, he hadn’t moved- just continued to stare into the darkness. But inside, he wondered if he’d be able to stop whatever it was that was coming, to at least protect the others. Maybe the woman or man has a sword on them somewhere. He laughed at that thought. Yeah, because it makes perfect sense that you’d run into another Atharim in another random encounter.
Suddenly, a shabby mangy dog burst forth from the tunnel and darted across into another tunnel.
Connor started quietly laughing deep in his chest, chuckling to himself. Good lord, what is wrong with me? He just laughed- partly in embarrassment, though he hoped the others had not picked up on any of what he had been feeling- and partly in relief. The dog simply startled him and perhaps it had startled them too.
He continued laughing to himself as he finally responded to her comment- it had really only been a matter of seconds- of “You get used to it.”
“I’m sure that’s true.
” He wasn’t exactly sure what he was referring to- the subways or a world with monsters. Such an idiot, he thought and laughed again inside. He looked at the man, removing his hand from his pocket. He still had a slight grin on his face. “What about you man? You gotten used to Moscow yet?
”
Edited by Connor Kent, Apr 24 2014, 03:19 PM.
- Elias Donovan - 04-25-2014
Elias was not in the mood to talk, but was served a just penance for associating with others. Although, in this case, "others" originally included an attractive girl, but had since swelled into an unappreciated threesome.
Having been inside the bowels of the Guardian immediately before, his mind was tuned to creepy frequencies. Despite his manner of dress, which was more a gesture of internal reflections than an obsession with darkness, he was none pleased with the potential of morbidity conceptualizing into reality.
The noise, clinking and thrumming, from the depths of that black mouth turned his gaze as it did the other man's. Although Elias, in this case, had no need to check for the presence of a defense; the defense circled within his own mind.
He was not hesitant in his decision to submerge himself in the ocean of power within reach, but for now, the surface was calm and smooth as glass in noontime sun. It was with vision almost as bright as the sun itself, that he could discern the shape of an animal loping forward, expertly dodging the electrified tracks. It bound into sight of the others, and Elias was amused by the way his companion's worry, brief as it had been.
The animal bounded out of sight, swallowed by the opposite mouth of darkness, and Eli watched with a sense of curiosity as though he could see the animal for some time afterward.
"Perhaps it knows of a hole to hide in when a train comes. Which begs the next question, what else can crawl through the tunnels and yet survive? A decent question to ask if one ever finds themselves stranded."
He spoke more to himself than the others, but they had the privilege of overhearing his monologue.
To answer the man's question, since Eli was seemingly growing more accepting of conversation, he glanced back, "There are worse places in the world than Moscow."
He thought for a second, a sense of pallor briefly lightening his cheeks, "and there are better ones, too."
Far better, he thought, grimly.
- Connor Kent - 04-25-2014
Connor's sheepish feeling gradually faded as he laughed at himself. The dog had been what he needed, he decided, to put things in perspective. The world he lived in had completely changed for him in just a few days. Up until two days ago, as crappy as it had been to him, it made sense. The universe was- if not fully- then at least pretty well understood. His own experiences with disillusionment had already done much to cause him to doubt anything supernatural. He was a materialist. The world existed and while he would not claim that there weren't things that people had no knowledge of, time and again far fetched claims of creatures like Bigfoot or UFOs or Yetis didn't hold up to real scrutiny.
It had been humbling to realize that the world he lived in was not the one he thought. And now that the rush of his cathartic experience had faded into a more settled background, here- in this place- he had allowed himself to drift into that world. And to momentarily start seeing dangers lurking everywhere.
But that dog had put things into right. He had lived his entire life and his run-ins with things like that creature were, so far, one! In his 40's! Two days ago! It was a needed reminder. He didn't have to suddenly change the way he looked at the world. And if he did have a run-in...well, he hadn't panicked the first time, despite everything. He knew he'd not panic at another encounter.
The man spoke to himself about the dog hiding, perhaps implying that other things might be hiding too. But by then the scene had changed for him, having lost its foreboding quality. Nothing like scaring yourself silly to put things in perspective. It was still dank and smelled. But he now noticed the thought put in the structures. Certainly far more than what he had seen in subway tunnels during his trips to New York City. Interesting.
Then the man spoke more loudly. "There are worse places in the world than Moscow...and there are better ones, too."
"Sounds about right,"
Connor replied. "And sometimes they are both,"
he added after a moment. Yeah. Sometimes the most terrible places to be are also the ones we cherish the most.
Edited by Connor Kent, Apr 25 2014, 04:12 PM.
- Tehya - 04-27-2014
He was coiled tight, this man; not all together obviously, but Tehya wondered if he had approached them not simply from the sort of idle politeness of strangers passing the seconds before they exited each others lives for good, but because he needed some sort of... affirmation. The human instinct to seek the familiar in times of stress, in times of discomfort. He put up a good enough façade, but she had noticed his hand slip into his pocket moments before the dog had lumbered from the tunnel's shadows. She might have thought nothing of it but for the way he had been staring at the darkness, not so dissimilar from the way she had been staring at the darkness, and the hint of relief in his grin after. It was not her business, of course, and she didn't analyse it too closely; he'd already admitted to being creeped out by the place. It did, however, stir up a little guilt. Though her life might be composed of rigid lines and control, she was not the sort of person to ignore someone in need of help, even if that help were as innocent as a pleasant conversation and the reassurance that dark clouds had silver linings. It was mired within the seriousness she took her oaths and the sense of guardianship and responsibility her grandfather had instilled. He would have been disappointed in her coldness.
A friendly word, an open smile. It did not mean she had to see this man again, nor the other - who also seemed reluctant to be dragged into the banalities of conversation. She frowned at his musings, but only because they cut close to a topic she was pretty sure it was unwise for him to pursue. She could run a list off her fingers on the manner of creatures one might find in such places; their strengths, weaknesses, habits. The best and quickest way to kill those that presented a threat, and with the least civilian inconvenience. Her whole life circled around those details, to the exclusion of anything that one might consider normal. If she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she had had an ordinary conversation with someone who didn't understand the complexities of the ouroboros mark, and now she was in the midst of one, she couldn't think of a single appropriately ordinary thing to say. She was as evasive as that dog, slipping from shadow to shadow through meagre patches of light, never pausing long enough to appreciate the warmth. Caught in the figurative sunlight, and with company beyond her atharim brethren, she found she was more keen to leap to the next shadow rather than enjoy the diversion. It was a disturbing realisation.
Even talk of preferred places stirred up little response; she simply went where she was needed, whether it was pleasant to her or not. She'd never been the sort of patriot to miss the soil of her roots, which would probably be a sacrilege to admit to, plus she didn't want to discuss where she was from or why she was here in Moscow. If the train had arrived then it would have been divine timing, but no distant rumblings announced its presence, and Tehya was left ruminating how to remain polite without inviting questions about herself. In the interim she made a murmured noise of agreement. She could just let the conversation peter out naturally - the disinterest on her part wouldn't even need to be feigned - but by now she had convinced herself of the obligation, so she crossed a boundary she wouldn't ordinarily, and offered her name. "Tehya." Her smile was earthy, and lacked the superfluousness of something lightly offered. It also didn't quite touch her eyes, the liquid darkness of which had the burdened quality of one who's mind never sat still, but it was sincerely meant. She offered the identity to the older of the two men, though her gaze presently moved to include the one she already knew, from his phonecall, was called Elias.
- Elias Donovan - 04-27-2014
"Sounds about right," Connor replied. "And sometimes they are both."
Elias inwardly groaned. The man turned what Eli meant as a literal observation of the world, dust and isolation versus a sea of contentment, and forced philosophical interpretations down his throat. What others embodied as shades of gray, Eli tolerated, or in most cases, outright dismissed.
The man had his uses, though. If only by virtue of entertainment to pass the time. Eli might mull over the news, and his destination, for days and find he'd only wasted his time without tangible evidence. As it was now, time trickled uselessly like sand through his fingertips. More than amusement, the man served to siphon out the American girl's name. Tehya directed the introduction to the older man, and a jealous anger rolled through the pit of his stomach in a way he hadn't known since Sara's shot those doleful, sympathetic eyes at him from across Mr. Gene's English Lit class. Only Tehya's flicker was not one of gentle concern. She barely looked at him as though he was the third wheel, unwanted. The jealousy faded; he was long used to making people uncomfortable.
The darkness of his eyes, half hidden behind the shields of hair draping his face like a curtain, turned to equally address both. To the man, he offered a handshake, "Elias,"
but it was a means to an end. He wanted to meet the girl, and shake her hand, and make her look at him, before shaking her hand.
- Connor Kent - 04-28-2014
After his statement- "And sometimes they are both."
- more a personal observation than anything else, silence hung in the air for a moment. Connor was content to let the silence linger as he didn't wish to intrude any further on these people's mental space. It had been, perhaps, just a momentary footing in a now-alien world that he had sought from them, before his thinking had been realigned by his panic.
Then the woman smiled up at him and introduced herself. "Tehya"
Such a lovely name. But that smile...It was real, the kind that was a genuine expression of warmth. He had already noticed she was strikingly good looking. But that smile...A word drifted up from the depths of his mind. Nizhoni, beautiful. It made her beautiful. It warmed him, to feel that human connection to another. Now that he had come to terms with the loss of Hayden, he was able to feel again. First Aria and Jensen and Giovanni. And now this beautiful woman. It felt so good to be in the land of the living again.
He noticed, though, that the smile did not touch her eyes. Not in the way that sometimes happened when a person was being phony. Rather, this woman was alone. She had worn solitude as a cloak earlier. And even in her attempt to be friendly, to be open, the fact that she was a solitary person, going through her life alone- by choice? by circumstance? both?- was clear. An aching feeling of empathy washed through the center of him. No one should feel that way.
Only a short time ago, he had felt that solitude keenly. But it had been his choice, his way of dealing with the guilt and the pain, of cutting himself off. He had been dying spiritually- or perhaps killing himself. And so he felt a deep compassion for her, a compassion borne of a shared experience. And he appreciated the gesture she made all the more, the effort at crossing the chasm to interact with others. And then rational thought intruded itself. You're projecting, he thought.
He smiled at her and said, "Very nice to meet you, Tehya. I'm Connor," and shook her hand. Her hand was smooth and warm to the touch, the shake firm. This was a real woman, not some flighty superficial giggly girl.
Then the man offered his name and a hand. "Elias"
, he said. Connor gave his hand a firm shake as well. "Good to meet you, Elias. Connor" The man shook only briefly. He seemed more interested in meeting Tehya. It was understandable. Connor gave her a brief look and a smile.
He felt the chill in the air start to seep into his bones, despite the cold. "I'll tell you what. These Moscow autums seem more like winter. Course, I'm from New Mexico, so...you know."
They had introduced themselves so he decided to go forward. "Where are you both from?"
Edited by Connor Kent, Apr 28 2014, 11:21 AM.
- Tehya - 04-30-2014
She shook his -- Connor's -- hand firmly, though by now the smile had retreated behind the solemnity of her resting expression. He seemed pleased with the offer, and it vindicated the uncertainty with which she had breached superficial politeness to something that, for her, was more intimate. His smile was pleasant, his words courteous, and the contact gratefully ephemeral. Relief unburdened her shoulders. For now she was glad to have stepped over the line, but content to fall back into retreat after.
Darkness loomed in her peripheral. Elias' stare burned her skin, demanding attention like an ignored child. She had not intended to shun him, and did not really understand the vehemence with which he glowered at her. He had been the one to intrude upon her space in the first place, and she had not objected. Like her, he had seemed aloof from the idle conversation. But he looked her right in the eye as she offered her hand, like it made some fine point she was too ignorant to pick up on. No timidity shadowed her expression; her handshake contained strength, but not offence. He could glare all he liked.
Then Connor went and asked the question she was disinclined to answer - well, one of the questions she was disinclined to answer. Talk of home invited too much speculation into the life she led. Before Moscow she had not lived a double existence, as so many of the atharim did here; she had lived in shadows, a singular, hidden existence. No job, no partner, no hobbies. She did not laugh in coffee shops, take strolls in parks, enjoy frivolous shopping trips. Her family had been the bedrock to such a life, and she'd never pined after 'normality.' Here it was more difficult to fit in; she was no longer expected to traverse the front lines, though more often these days she did anyway, and the slots of time it had opened led to uncomfortable encounters such as this.
A wry smile lifted her lips, but it curled like smoke and was gone. "Not from here." A shrug accented the words, uncommitted to revealing more details. Instead she focussed on the stock - and safe - subject of weather. "I find the snow pleasant." And useful for tracking.
- Elias Donovan - 05-01-2014
There was a small sense of satisfaction in bending Tehya to his impulse for attention. He held onto the rope of her gaze until the natural course of time frayed the ends, and Eli released it to the eons of its fate with a thin smile.
A bullhorn sounded in the drifts of fog that isolated him and Tehya to their own little island of a platform, one by the name of Connor. He spoke of the weather, and Eli felt his attention roll inward again. After having been lured to the surface by the mystique of a woman so unlike any one he'd encountered before, Connor's comment on the weather forced Eli to retreat into the numbness of his own mind, but the subsequent comment suddenly broke the descent.
New Mexico.
Though not Utah, the geographical kinship between the two southwesterly states dredged memories across the mind's eye like claws on chalkboard.
Kenab shared a border with Arizona, but there was no delineation in the dirt between two giants of the country other than a weathered sign, but there was a deadening recognition for state lines for those raised on them. They were of no more significance than to discern which side of the border has the cheaper price of a gallon of gas and to confuse mail carriers, area codes, and tax payers.
By virtue of approximation, Kenab was also only an hour's drive to the Nevada border, beyond which, a mere two hours further, sprawled Sin City - Las Vegas - yet another destination he never visited. Only young men of the highest order of righteousness were deemed worthy to serve their two years surrounded by such disgrace; Eli, as neither a missionary or as a tourist, had any interest in seeing the oasis of the desert.
To the east two-hundred and fifty tedious miles, lay the border of New Mexico. The state from which Connor hailed and should spark a symbol of recognition for a Utah-born.
It very much did. "It doesn't matter,"
Eli muttered in response to Connor's question. The contortion to his expression was a twist of toleration dipping its toes into hate.
He had to wonder if Tehya's ambiguity was of similar grim nostalgia. Snow fell on the peaks of Utah, and other states closer than journeying to the opposide side of the world. A blanket of cold powder was more appealing than scorched tufts of grass, but he disagreed about the pleasantries of snow. There were more serene places to wander.
Eli stared downward like he could see the electricity of the rails sparking beneath their own metallic power. A deafness that was yearning he barely recognized overtook his senses. He missed his uncle; he missed New Zealand.
Some droned minutes later, movement pulled his gaze upward. A woman in hospital scrubs peeking out around her dingy coat sat herself on a bench across the platform. She paid the people opposite her no more attention than Eli might have given her, but for the fact that from the staircase behind her emerged a man with a hand in his coat pocket. A man likely with questionable motives.
She had no idea of his presence nor of an observer across the tracks. The man's footfalls were likely washed away beneath the noise of whatever filled her earphones. The oblivion continued until he put that pocketed hand against her head and leaned around her shoulder, uttering orders they could not hear across the wide expanse of tracks. Eli glanced briefly at Connor and Tehya.
"I think she's about to be robbed,"
he said with lukewarm interest.
- Connor Kent - 05-01-2014
Elias and Tehya exchanged greetings. Then Tehya responded to his question about where they were from with an enigmatic smile that vanished quickly. "Not from here,"
was all she said. Obviously she did not want to talk about it. But she added, "I find the snow pleasant."
The statement seemed offered in lieu of mystery. She seemed relaxed, as if relieved about something. And there was still that solitariness about her, though not as insistent as before.
Elias look irritated though and answered tersely "It doesn't matter."
Then he looked down and an expression passed over his face. Connor didn't know him to be sure, but it seemed like sorrow. Maybe not. But the way he held himself, the way he looked down, the way he'd answered...the impression remained. Connor felt bad that he had questioned them, however friendly he meant it.
It's so easy to prejudge people, he thought. You see a man dressed in a particular fashion and you think you know them or what they belong to. But we are all just lonely people. And this guy who seems to be projecting alienation and rejection, does so for a reason. Connor thought back to the days when he was in his early 20s and empathized. There were any number of reasons to feel that way.
He was about to apologize for prying at them, when Elias looked up, calling his attention to the platform across the tracks. A woman with a coat over her scrubs was sitting, earbuds clear even from this distance. The woman probably worked around here and was on her way home.
The platform across the tracks was nearly identical to one they were on, with high ornate ceilings and a winding staircase leading to the surface. The light on that side seemed to be not as bright as their's. Probably a few fixtures had gone out. Connor watched the woman for a moment and then let his gaze float upward to the ceiling of this place. His eye drifted to the shadowed section above one of tunnels. It was almost black in the corners of the arches and alcoves.
Something flickered, black against black. He stared at in intently and gradually everything faded from his attention except for that spot. It was just shadows, but- just barely- there seemed to be volume, almost like dark smoke. He had the feeling that something was looking back at him. He let his eyes relax and open, trying to take in more light from that area, to see what was there. You're doing it again, he thought. You're letting your imagination run away again. There's nothing there. Relax.
He gave the shadows one last look- Was there something there?- and brought his eyes to the woman. A man had appeared behind her, hand in his pocket. The way he moved said he was trying to be unseen. He brought his pocketed hand to the woman's head, leaned in and said something to her. Fear suddenly covered the woman's face. She brought her hands up to her ears and pulled out one of the earbuds and listened. Connor couldn't hear what he was saying.
Elias spoke Connor's own conclusion. "I think she's about to be robbed."
At the very least, he thought with worry. The woman stood stiffly, the man's pocketed hand now at her back. Her eyes were wide with terror as the man gestured with his head to the stair case.
Connor yelled out, "Hey! Get away from her!"
He jumped down the 3 feet from the platform to the ground. Quickly but carefully trying to avoid any rails- he didn't know which, if any, were electrified- he made his way across, kicking rocks and some discarded drink containers. As he passed the mouth of one opening he looked and thankfully saw only blackness. No trains coming yet. The man had looked down at him- still only partly across the way- in surprise and pulled the woman back.
Connor yelled again, "Leave her alone!"
He got to the second set of rails and then heard the sound of the train. Now!?!? He looked down the tunnel and saw light in the distance. He still had time to get across before the train came- he hoped. It was hard to gauge how fast the train was moving just from the way the light got bigger. He hurried and briefly tripped on a rail and went to a knee. Thank god it wasn't electric, he thought frantically. Only a few steps to go, He looked at the platform and the people on it.
Edited by Connor Kent, May 1 2014, 03:24 PM.
- Tehya - 05-03-2014
Her dark gaze followed across the tracks. Though her expression was grim she said nothing, inwardly quashing the desire to do something with the sombre - and necessary - knowledge that she could not. She did not police the behaviour of humans, and this aggressor appeared nothing but. Without contrary evidence she had no excuse. And the fact was it was unwise to tangle herself in these affairs, to set a precedent for herself; but she shifted her stance anyway, to better see, and calculate the assembly of threads that might help scare the attacker off. Strict measures of control never allowed her to touch the light. Inside her coat pocket, she touched her Wallet instead. Resigned herself to calling the police.
Beside her Connor yelled. And then he jumped.
He jumped.
Tehya stiffened. For a second her eyes flared wide -- stunned by the sheer idiocy -- but her brows soon tumbled down into a frown as she watched him running across the tracks. For all stupidity she might have blindly followed but for the sudden rumble from the tunnel. Her heart beat hard, beckoning the fall into light. The Spirits chittered in her ears, begging her to let them help - though she wasn't even sure how they could. She couldn't stop a train. Adrenaline rushed the blood through her veins, urging her to move - to do something. - but only took her to the edge of the platform. Her jaw was set so tight she might have cracked every tooth in her head.
Then the train rushed in and blocked her view.
"Why did he do that?" Anger cut the words, and though she was talking to Elias she did not expect an answer. Or if so, not a kind one. The impotence burdened her; her hands were fists in her pockets. She wanted to fill herself with power to bursting, to keen every sense like it might pierce the behemoth of the train, and let her see beyond it. Connor was stranded on the other platform.