07-19-2014, 12:17 AM
Takeo stared at a triptych of skull diagrams that had previously been the northern slope of Mount Fuji. The white wall on which it hung may as well have been there all night for the illusion of permanence it portrayed. Elza was nowhere to be seen - nor was much else along this wall, and the drawings held no interest for the Privelege, other than to note the overlay of mechanical pieces that seemed to suggest they were a series of studies of possible face implants or ornaments of some kind. He couldn't imagine how they would affect the facial structure of the person who bore them, but he doubted very much they would be an improvement from what he considered to be a perfectly beautiful natural creation.
"They're Godsworn,"
a voice spoke, beautiful to the ear but startlingly close, so close in fact that he spun and conjured a knife … that never appeared. The woman standing there just smiled and glanced curiously at his clenched fist. "Sorry I startled you. I'm the …"
she paused, eyes widened, and smile wider. "Aren't you the Ninja?"
She blinked and quickly shook her head, "Sorry, I mean the Privelege? Privelege Onoda?"
Takeo revealed nothing of his own thoughts, though he had many. Who was this woman? Why had she not disappeared yet? No one remained this long who wasn't a Walker, and she did not act like a Walker. Was everyone else here by their choice then as well? A full house milled about, staring at the artwork on the walls and chattering amongst themselves. It was an odd chatter - no matter how much he concentrated on one or another, he could never make out their words. And they always turned their backs to him before he could read their lips. Were they real? Or merely props? Some construct of Elza's whim? And what the hell was Godsworn?
"Yes, hi,"
Takeo slipped on a smile and offered his hand. "Takeo Onoda."
She had a solid handshake, but she still seemed a bit flustered. It was something he was accustomed to - everyone knew his face it seemed - but not here. Walkers generally had more control than that. "You can call me Takeo. And you are...?"
The woman smiled - she was really, very pretty when she smiled - and visibly flushed. It was an odd contrast to see her shift from fox to mouse so easily. Now that wasn't something he saw often in this place. "Sorry… I'm…"
She seemed incredibly embarrassed, and sheepishly motioned to the drawing behind him. "That's mine."
He glanced back and read a name and title just as she said it, "Mina Valerius."
At that moment, a bone-chilling shriek filled the cavernous gallery and threatened to shatter Takeo's concentration. He looked about for the source of the sound, but no one seemed to have noticed it. They continued to talk amongst themselves and paruse the Godsworn, whatever they were.
"Did you hear that?!"
Mina screamed, clapping her hands over her ears. She had a wild, terrified look in her eyes, and at the same time astonishment. "No one ever hears it…"
A rise in the shrieking and an explosion. The roof flew off in one clattering peel, like the lid of a sardine can, and bricks and whole sections of wall fell in among the gallery patrons. Men and women were crushed whole, limbs torn off by slabs of concrete and rebar, others were knocked down by a stone to the temple or a plank through the knee. And still the others chattered and ogled and milled about the carnage, calling for refills on their wines or taking photos in front of Godsworn where they weren't standing in front of empty holes in the walls. It was chaos and death, and none of them noticed.
"RUN!"
Mina shoved him, hard, in the chest, and he tumbled backwards through a hole in the wall. He could feel the uneven bricks tearing up his back, a metal shard slashing his shoulder, but he rolled into a run outside and didn't look back.
"They're Godsworn,"
a voice spoke, beautiful to the ear but startlingly close, so close in fact that he spun and conjured a knife … that never appeared. The woman standing there just smiled and glanced curiously at his clenched fist. "Sorry I startled you. I'm the …"
she paused, eyes widened, and smile wider. "Aren't you the Ninja?"
She blinked and quickly shook her head, "Sorry, I mean the Privelege? Privelege Onoda?"
Takeo revealed nothing of his own thoughts, though he had many. Who was this woman? Why had she not disappeared yet? No one remained this long who wasn't a Walker, and she did not act like a Walker. Was everyone else here by their choice then as well? A full house milled about, staring at the artwork on the walls and chattering amongst themselves. It was an odd chatter - no matter how much he concentrated on one or another, he could never make out their words. And they always turned their backs to him before he could read their lips. Were they real? Or merely props? Some construct of Elza's whim? And what the hell was Godsworn?
"Yes, hi,"
Takeo slipped on a smile and offered his hand. "Takeo Onoda."
She had a solid handshake, but she still seemed a bit flustered. It was something he was accustomed to - everyone knew his face it seemed - but not here. Walkers generally had more control than that. "You can call me Takeo. And you are...?"
The woman smiled - she was really, very pretty when she smiled - and visibly flushed. It was an odd contrast to see her shift from fox to mouse so easily. Now that wasn't something he saw often in this place. "Sorry… I'm…"
She seemed incredibly embarrassed, and sheepishly motioned to the drawing behind him. "That's mine."
He glanced back and read a name and title just as she said it, "Mina Valerius."
At that moment, a bone-chilling shriek filled the cavernous gallery and threatened to shatter Takeo's concentration. He looked about for the source of the sound, but no one seemed to have noticed it. They continued to talk amongst themselves and paruse the Godsworn, whatever they were.
"Did you hear that?!"
Mina screamed, clapping her hands over her ears. She had a wild, terrified look in her eyes, and at the same time astonishment. "No one ever hears it…"
A rise in the shrieking and an explosion. The roof flew off in one clattering peel, like the lid of a sardine can, and bricks and whole sections of wall fell in among the gallery patrons. Men and women were crushed whole, limbs torn off by slabs of concrete and rebar, others were knocked down by a stone to the temple or a plank through the knee. And still the others chattered and ogled and milled about the carnage, calling for refills on their wines or taking photos in front of Godsworn where they weren't standing in front of empty holes in the walls. It was chaos and death, and none of them noticed.
"RUN!"
Mina shoved him, hard, in the chest, and he tumbled backwards through a hole in the wall. He could feel the uneven bricks tearing up his back, a metal shard slashing his shoulder, but he rolled into a run outside and didn't look back.