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Forum of the Elder Gods (Grave;Cross)


Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Roy sat completely still, looking into the fire quietly as Grave spoke. But, it was once his apology struck, that he began a small chuckle. Reaching an arm up to scratch the back of his head, he laughed a little, "That Cynthia..." he said suddenly, "She really does have you completely figured out... Right on the nose."

Turning his head with a bit more of a neutral expression, no longer a grimace, he took lengths to explain in greater detail, "I wasn't quite sure what she meant when she told me that you'd surprise me, after I gave my own, rather dark opinion of you. You didn't strike me at all as a man that could even muster an apology." With a sigh, he turned to look at Valencia, twisting his lips at the large mound in the covers, displaying her pregnant belly. "Would you believe me if I said she's been through worse? In all honesty, it was your betrayal that upset us the most. Those who betray their friends aren't even deserving to be called the lowliest of human beings, as far as I'm concerned. That's where our hate drew from."

He turned back, looking straight to the fire, slouching a bit where he lay, "But if you're willing to make things right, as Cynthia said you would, then once Valencia clobbers you a little, everything should go back to the way it was when we met."

"Take care, Mr. Cynder." Roy said suddenly, "This is a world far more forgiving than that of where you and I come from. Submitting to defeat does not always mean death. In fact, being killed in this world should be the least of your worries."
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave was suprised by Roy's reaction. He expected anger, scorn, or silence at best. Roy, however, seemed to relax instead, and even began to explain the situation to the confused half-blood. Cynder was not very happy about the fact that Cynthia predicted his apology, altough he started to get used to the fact he could expect her to know what he's thinking. Relaxing a bit, the young man nodded after Roy finished his speech. "Thanks... Next time we meet, I promise I'll set things right. Goodbye."

Grave set out. He intended to go back the same way he reached this place. He briefly wondered whether the lamia merchant would be around this time, but he wasn't really that eager to ask for a ride. Cynder had a lot to think about, and a long walk was about enough time to ponder things. Roy's explanation shed light on some things the half-blood didn't know about, and helped him understand the pair a little better.

Roy's final words were pretty clear - he and Grave came from the same world. However, he found this island more forgiving, and found his place here. It was a vague promise, but it gave the half-blood some hope. If a human managed to find a new home here, someone who was part monster should be able to do so as well. However, the prospect of a fate worse than death was chilling, especially since Cynder could guess what might happen to him - he still remembered what Cynthia showed him.

Grave shook his head. Well, whether he could achieve his dreams or not was a matter of whether he could overcome his own weakness, at least according to Cynthia. The young man had a few questions he wanted to ask the crow, but that'd have to wait until he reached the tower. In the meantime, Cynder continued to ponder what he learned today. And there was much to ponder - including that what he had learned about Roy and Valencia.

If the scholar's words were accurate, the two of them probably went through quite an ordeal. Grave could only guess what happened to the two of them, but he could clearly see the difference between himself and the pair. While Cynder became convinced that he couldn't trust no human, and saw little worth in trying to keep an ally, those two believed in loyalty and trusted others. Roy's opinion on traitors showed how strong his belief was. Quite likely both he and Valencia managed to overcome their problems together, creating a strong bond. They'd do anything for each other.

Grave sighed. He recalled that he once used to trust another person like this. He felt as if he just remembered something very important he forgot a long time ago. Musing over this, Cynder realized that he had much to learn - he had little experience in terms of social interaction and it was about damn time he fixed this problem. For a brief moment, the half-blood wondered whether his fear of interaction was a sign of paranoia before dropping the thought. As if he needed another issue. Deciding he might be going a bit too far, the young man focused on returning to the tower.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

The orange sun of midday would shine against the side of Grave's face, not blinding him, but instead, weaving shadows for him, forming a variety of odd shapes, each of them holding no significance, but oddly enough, causing his mind to reflect on his past with each shape he gazed upon. A pair of curves, cast from a rock and the end of a tree, among open spaces in leaves, yielded the face of club, the one who bears such horns. Clearly upset with being left behind, Cynder would feel an involuntary shiver down his spine, an image of Club's fury, tearing down the wall of the inn with one strike, flashing through his third eye.

The shadow of a flying bird woman, more animated than the rest of the shadows, at first would make his mind be reminded of Cynthia, before he'd notice the lack of elegance in this harpy's flight, before it flew away. Cynthia always move smoothly, in a way that would make one's eye trail a second behind her, another one of her ways of illusion, keeping your eyes on something that's long gone before you realize it. While magnificent, and elegant, it seemed fragile. Like a painting on glass, Cynthia seemed just as easy to shatter with a swift blow. A bird that flies high, out of reach, and outsmarts the hunter, but in the hands of the hunter's trusty dog, her neck snaps, and her life comes to a swift end.

His mother inside him vibrated with amusement. She seemed to be the source of Grave's subconscious thoughts reacting to the shadows. Within the depths of his memories, she shared his recent memories of Cynthia, and fancied both the beauty, and the death of the creature. She thought that the fact Cynder held the desire to kill Cynthia was perhaps appropriate, given that he aspires to be a ruler, a prince to return a king. Accounting Cynthia's pledge to him, his mother more fancied the idea of the bird meeting such a fate. But not out of vengeance, or hate for her murderer, she simply fancied the thought of it. To her, it was a romantic tale of an elegant woman's love for a man, pledging her life to him, before the man does take her life by his own hand, spilling the blood of his most devoted.

Devotion. Her thoughts changed to Valencia and Roy, and their respective devotion to each other, and even to Grave, upon their meeting, and unsaid alliance with the man they entered her tomb with. She already knew the whole situation, and chose not to think on the emotional matters, but instead remembering when Cynder so easily left the girl to suffer the lewd fate of the arachne. How amusing it was to her, to remember the face of the purple haired girl. She expected him to help, expected him to hold the same devotion as she. She thought so highly of him... Highly enough to expect his assistance, in any case. And it was that which made her suffering before the numbing injection so much worse. Left to rot like a dog on the street, it's gut crawling with maggots, simply stepped over, by a man who could very well have saved it weeks earlier.

She began to feel depressed at the thought of an innocent animal, albeit mindless, meeting such a fate. She gave Grave a soothing rush, his body shuddering with energy, before she went quiet. A moment later, Cynthia's tower came into view past a large tree... Not a minute's walk away.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave followed the trail of thoughts that seemed to pop up out of nowhere, as if born from the shadows he saw. He didn't realize their source at first, his consciousness occupied by the images he witnessed. Club's impending fury was something he was worried about - he wasn't sure whether the little goblin knew how much power one of her punches had and what it could do to a human. He didn't want to imagine the results.

Cynder's thoughts then turned to Cynthia, another person who seemed to had taken hold of his mind. Her apparent frailty was so convincing, he could easily imagine her broken and defeated, an image that he found quite... Promising. On the other hand, he recalled what happened to the monster that attacked her earlier. The crow looked fragile and defenceless, but the young man suspected there were few monsters that could pose a threat to her.

Cynthia wasn't fierce, though. She didn't fight with strenght or tricks, but rather seemed to... "Flow" around her opponent, like water around a pebble. It'd be hard to catch this bird, but the thought of squeezing the life out of her was satisfying. Grave, however, didn't exactly share his mother's view of the concept. He was far from looking at it in such a romantic manner - it was hate that was speaking through him, a cold feeling honed and tempered through several years.

Grave realized by that moment that his mother was projecting her own thoughts to him. She certainly could read his own as well... Taking a small break to consider his own thoughts, the young man realized that having someone specific to hate was strangely... Liberating. Now that he began to seek a new path, he'd have to start with re-organizing himself. Focusing his feeling of hatred on the crow gave him something to look forward to, something to anticipate and desire. Perhaps if he focused other feelings on specific targets, he'd make the first step to recovery.

After a few moment, Cynder felt his mother's spirit, washing over him in a soothing wave. It was comforting, especially after the mental image he was served, even though it made him shiver. Stopping for a short moment to let the feeling subside, he resumed his journey after a moment, reflecting upon the queen's last train of thought. Devotion. At first glance, it seemed like a rather large price to pay for him - to devote oneself to another person, and suffer together with that person... This was no small deal. But if this went both ways, wouldn't that also mean that this comrade would stick with Grave, helping him in trouble? Wouldn't he share his joy? The young man deliberately refused to believe such things as he sought to justify his stance towards the world. But maybe... Maybe he was wrong all the time.

Sighing, Cynder glanced at the tower, now in his sight. He recalled his previous discussion with Roy. Should he apologize to Cynthia, or maybe thank her? Or should he say nothing? Shrugging and deciding that he could figure this out later, the half-blood marched on.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

As he neared the tower's door, not but twenty paces away from the stone archway, and wooden doors, an odd feeling came over him. A familiar vibration of magic came over his body, as his vision turned blue. While he kept moving, he'd realize he was moving faster than usual, and then his chest was no longer flat... As well as without bipedal legs, in place of a serpent's tail. His mother's hair, not his own, flew down from his head, and down his shoulders, revealing that he had the body of the Queen Echidna, and was either possessed, or was reliving another memory of her's.

The latter, seemed to be the case, as her hand, viewed from her own eyes, lifted, and knocked quietly, and gently against the door. It seemed impossible that Cynthia would hear it in such a vast tower, but the door opened naught but a second later. "Ah, Cynthia..." said the voice of his mother as Cynthia's face came into view. Oddly enough, now that he got a direct look, Cynthia didn't seem to age at all even from all those years ago, apparently before he was even born. "I've come... To admit..." she seemed hesitant, and humble before the crow as she tried to find her words.

However, Cynthia spoke over her embarrassment without pride, I'm aware. I knew it would be so. You've come to ask me questions? she inquired.

Then suddenly, the blue vision faded, and color started to return to the world, before... Oddly enough, nothing had changed. Cynthia stood before him, and he before her, at the front of the archway. He had somehow walked himself there without his knowing... Perhaps by his mother's means? And just like in the 'vision,' Cynthia stood, with an knowing, calm, emotionless expression. Her jet black feathers rustled lightly in the wind, so soft that they made no sound. Her skirt flew in waves, along with her short, trimmed raven black hair. And reflecting the orange, setting sun, her blood red eyes gazed at him, each blink she made as she regarding him, showing a sliver of emotion... So small, that he could not place it with his own perception. However... His subconscious told him it was affectionate.

"I knew it would be so..." she said to Grave calmly, and almost with a sympathy, a knowing kindness that said she knew exactly what troubled his mind. "You've come to ask me questions?" she inquired, just as she did to his mother in the dream.
 
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Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave was still thinking about what to say to Cynthia by the time he reached the tower. His musings were interrupted when he felt a strange sensation, a peculiar kind of vibrations as if his body responded to some unknown, potent force. As his vision changed, Cynder realized that it was caused by magic, and a brief assessment of the situation revealed that it was one of his mother's memories, playing itself right in front of his eyes. An event that took place here, one she apparently intended to show him... Or did he trigger it accidentally?

The young man was aware that the spirit of his mother was residing within him, and he could feel her emotions just as clearly as she could feel hers. If it applied to current thoughts, perhaps it worked the same way with distant memories. Maybe she found herself once in the same situation, which caused some bizzare kind of spiritual deja vu, manifesting itself as a vision. Realizing it was an opportunity to learn something about his mother, the half-blood decided to let the situation develop, watching with interest.

What he saw gave him some food for thought. First, Cynthia didn't seem to age - that could mean she probably was much older than he assumed. Grave doubted it was a natural trait of her species, unless monsters really had tendencies to live longer than humans... If that wasn't true, the girl most likely used some kind of magic. This raised some minor questions about her power and abilities which were labeled later as somewhat unimportant at the moment.

The other thing Cynder noticed was that his mother seemed to be suprisingly humble. Earlier, she seemed to be an incredibly proud woman... And now, she could barely muster a sentence. The young man felt he understood the reason, though. When he apologized to Roy, it was hard to speak even though he knew that these words had to be said. Admitting that one was wrong wasn't easier, and someone with great pride would find it even more difficult. To show humility like this... The Echidna Queen had a strong will, and knew when to change her course of action. Grave felt this could be a lesson for him. However, he also began to grow curious - just what exactly did his mother want to talk about? It certainly was no small matter.

Intending to ask the tengu about this, the young man was suprised when the vision ended and he found himself standing in the entrance, staring at the crow in question. Did his mother affect him while showing this memory to him? Or was the vision caused by his own actions, which mirrored those of his mother's? Either way, he was standing in front of Cynthia, just like his mother did many years ago, as the girl stared at him. "Ah..." Grave hesitated for a moment before composing himself. "Yes." Her stare and words were slightly unsettling, but deep down, Cynder had to admit he felt a little better when she showed that she cared, and a hint of a smile appeared on his face. Roy advised him not to take it for granted, though. "Sorry about earlier... I should have been more grateful."
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Her eyes did not track his uncomfortable movements. Instead, Cynthia kept her eyes focused on his own, trapping his presence under her gaze, as her eyes yet again, went through his mind, body, and soul, creating a subconscious feeling of being naked, or laid bare before her. As if he had naught a secret she didn't know about. Yet, while he felt as if he was completely seen, his subconscious senses would give no alarm of these secrets being discovered. And logically, Grave might remember Cynthia's certain ability to only speak words carefully chosen, and well left in mystery.

Smiling lightly at grave, her normally neutral expression was washed over with pleasantry, and happiness. "You're always welcome here," she whispers to him, before slowly stepping aside, opening the door wider with a loud creak in invitation for him to enter into her marble home of knowledge and sanctuary. "Club will be pleased to see you as well..." she told him, her whisper having an odd expecting tone.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave blinked. He had yet to get used to this feeling of being completely transparent before the tengu. Altough uneasy, he was able to put this feeling aside - while she seemed to know more than it was comfortable, Cynthia wasn't an invader trying to steal all of his secrets. She knew how to avoid revealing the secrets she knew, too - something Cynder considered both useful and annoying.

Grave accepted her invitation, entering the tower. He didn't spend much time here during his last visit, but he rather liked this place. Cynder had to admit he wouldn't mind calling it his home, altough he doubted that would be possible. For now, however, he could stay here and learn more. His main concern was the mysterious relationship between Cynthia and his mother, as well as their plans. The crow was the only person alive who could explain why the half-blood was sent away from his home.

Grave wanted to ask the question right away. After all these years, he felt he deserved to know the details. Still, he held himself back - it was best not to rush such delicate matters. Besides, there was one more person in this tower who was even less patient than the young man. Cynder sighed when Cynthia mentioned Club, imagining what kind of mischief she might have caused out of boredom. Still, it would be good to see her. "Right... How is she, anyway? I hope she didn't cause too much trouble."
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Once he walked inside, she slowly closed the door behind him. The large wooden door creaked with far less noise as it slowly swung to shut the main entrance to the tower. Once the door had met the end, the light thud it made against the hinges that held it in place echoed throughout the room as if it were a sound of ceremony, announcing that a guest had arrived, and that the host of the tower should welcome him.

She turned from the door, once it had been shut and secured, walking towards Grave with her wings folded around herself. His mind would briefly suspect that she may be cold, to do such a thing. But she gave no other sign than that, keeping her wings around her slim, rounded body, and nothing else. "She has been more behaved than usual," she informed him, giving indication that she absolutely did not mind her manners, but for her usual case, did show more respect than usual. "But as you suspect, she has been restless ever since she was denied your company. It was for the best, as your old home would likely have taken her life."

She smiled suddenly, walking up to stand next to Cynder, her face forward, and eyes looking out of the corner of their sockets, only a single, red eye gazing at him, the other behind her nose, accompanied by a sly smile. "... I apologize, I know you missed her as well," she told him with intent. Those eyes showed their true nature of perception, looking deep inside his heart, and even if a fraction, detected some companionship between them. The goblin adored him, and Grave would know that. For such a little devil, love is an uncommon thing. Any heart would be flattered to be favored by such a beast, that at first glance, wouldn't even know the meaning of love.

Almost as if on queue, the whole tower seemed to shake, as if struck by a massive earthquake. Cynthia closed her eyes, saying nothing. However, without a word, she began to take several steps away from where she stood next to Cynder, as if she expecting something terrible heading his way.

Another quake, seeming more terrible than before. Books fell from shelves, and a teapot nearly shattered on the floor, before Cynthia casually caught it in her wings, and held it to her chest, just under her small breasts, keeping it safe, while observing the unknown destructive force take place in her tower. Suddenly, the quake stopped. However, the quiet would only last for a few seconds, before the loud roar of a powerful beast shook the foundation of the tower.

"GWAAAVE!!!" roared the fury of a monstrous beast.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave was pleased to hear that Club was alright. It seemed that Cynthia didn't mind the goblin, which actually was a good thing. He was even a little suprised to hear that the little girl behaved better than usual... Cynder wondered whether he could find a way to make Club act like this more often. It'd be pretty damn handy, without a doubt. For now, however, he'd have to make up for the fact that he left her behind. She probably felt rather lonely...

Grave didn't feel all that well about that decision, that's for sure. But of all the moves he made today, getting Club to stay back - as Cynthia suggested, he noted - was one of the better ones. Right now, his old home was a deadly trap for those who weren't prepared, and he was pretty damn sure he didn't want anyone to learn about his cowardly behaviour. The memory was still bothering him and the young man felt he had to break off and approach his misadventures from a distance. Hopefully tomorrow.

Cynder tensed a little when Cynthia mentioned his own feelings. Altough he sure as Hell didn't want to admit it in front of anybody, the half-blood felt pretty damn lonely, and he knew that Club was the person who could change that. For what could be the first time, someone actually seemed to harbor such intense attachment to him. Grave couldn't quite understand her love - he had no idea what she saw in him or whether she understood her own feelings, but the emotion was there, and it was genuine. It was puzzling - he didn't feel that there was anything in him that could have attracted her, but it happened. And that thought offered some solace.

Thinking about all this, Grave started to feel melancholic. He recognized this feeling. He felt it whenever he stopped to think about himself, his life and such. It wasn't pleasant - a calm, but heavy emotion that brought a kind of apathy with it. This time, however, reality called the young man back with enough force to snap him out of his daze. And shake the tower. He quickly regained his composure, not sure what was happening. An earthquake? Enemies? He wanted to ask Cynthia, but paused when he noticed that she was stepping away from him. Cynder frowned, a sliver of mistrust worming it's way back into his mind. Why was she doing this?

Then, he realized. Cynthia wouldn't let an enemy or a catastrophe claim him, but just because this wasn't the case it didn't mean she had to leave his side, unless... Grave had a pretty good idea of what this "unless" looked like. What kind of temper it had. What he didn't know was the extent of it's strenght, and this display was, simply put, pure horror. He frantically looked around, trying to locate the source of the tremors, a slightly panicked look on his face. 'Dear gods, where does this power COME FROM?!? No way such a small body could -'

Cynder's thoughts were cut short when he noticed the sudden pause. Then, the roar came. It was like as if a primal beast from the beginning of time, when this world was still young and volatile, somehow manifested itself in the present and announced it's arrival. Grave could swear that the entire existence shuddered, until he realized it was only his own body. It was an inhuman howl which sounded an awful lot like his name, slightly maimed. Knowing that he had no chance of avoiding the maelstrom, he decided to get it over with. Summoning the last reserves of (in his opinion, undoubtedly suicidal) confidence and trying to get his voice to sound normally, he called out. "Club! I'm down here!" Glancing at Cynthia, however, he could help but think one thing, the thought reflected in his eyes.

'FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, HELP ME!'
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

The rumbling, and shaking of the entire foundation suddenly stopped when Grave mustered the courage to call out the name of the ferocious beast howling his name. Changing her actions completely, she seemed to have heard him. Her eyes going wide, Cynthia suddenly set her tea pot down, and directed a claw in Cynder's direction. From her extended claw, came tens of thousands of tiny threads of magic. They were blue, instead of Cynthia's usual rainbow color. Once they reached Grave, they seemed to form a dome around him. A perfect circle. It almost seemed as if she was shielding him from harm.

The reason why became clear in only the blink of an eye. Suddenly, the tower shook again, the power behind it tenfold, as Cynder would quite literally be unable to stand. Instead of above, Grave's senses lied to him, and now revealed that she was actually tunneling from below! Time to think was absolutely not present, nor available to him. Unable to move, his sense of survival would fret over just where she'd emerge. As the thought of her exploding from the ground right below him would break his body in several places, at best.

From right in front of him, the destructive scene of Club's arrival was grand enough to make a painting. A small figure, easily mistaken for a child, soaring straight up into the air with a raised fist, with debris from the broken ground all around her, the sound of Club's entrance came with a shocking crack. Several lethal chunks of the marble floor bounced off of Cynthia's shield, covering Cynder with the gray smoke that followed her arrival. Though the earthquakes stopped, one final tremble sent Grave off of his feet, falling to his rear, as the horned, satanic shape shrouded in the gray smoke landed in front of him.

Her eyes seemed to glow blue from the sunlight reflecting off of them through the window. Their target clear, even through the smoke.

They were staring directly into Grave's eyes.



There was little time to think again, the situation moved incredibly fast, his mind couldn't keep up with it. However, everything seemed to progress slowly as well, as if he were just an onlooker, someone else entirely, viewing the world from his body. The intense emotions behind those eyes stunned even his mother's existence, overall, paralyzing his body. The stare was so overwhelming, that he hardly noticed the fist drawing back, clenched.

Blink. His eyed blinked on impulse.

As if speeding back up, Cynder's soul finally catching back up with his mind, and the world around him proceeded quickly. Club smashed her fist against the shield with her fist, breaking Cynthia's barrier easily, before she lunged at him with her mouth open wide. His subconscious could only imagine a beast about to swallow him into it's deadly maw.

The face that emerged from the smoke, instead, was something even a fool wouldn't confuse with a beast. Her mouth wide open in a wretched, crying howl, tears ran down her face as she cried in what could only be called happy tears. Her arms stretched forward, her eyes glistened with sorrowful longing, as if simply seeing Grave alone could make her sanity twist to this level.

Without restraint, Club collided into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, the force sending him sliding along the ground for several dozen feet, until his head nearly hit the wall. "Gwave! Gwave!" the voice of club repeated his name in a choked, raspy voice, as if so much mucus from her crying made it hard to talk correctly. She clenched her arms to him tightly, but not so tight when compared with her outrageous display of strength earlier. That made her current bear hug seem like a light snuggle in comparison.

Lifting her head, looking up at his face, her body was laid on top of his, her legs down to either side of him. Her expression twisted with tearful joy, her lips murmuring a barely comprehensible word similar to his own name, before she buried her face forward, crying more heavily than anyone ever had during his time in this world as she planted her face into his chest, moistening his now dirty shirt with her tears.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave let out the air he had been holding in when the rumbling stopped, relaxing slightly. He felt grateful when Cynthia supplied him with a shield, becoming a bit more at ease - right before realizing that the crow wouldn't supply him with a shield unless it was necessary. The very instant this thought occured to him, all Hell broke loose. There wasn't even time to react.

What happened next terrified Cynder more than anything else he ever experienced. A tremor unlike anything he ever felt before, catching him completely off-guard. His body refused to obey him as ground trembled. The only thought left to him was the mental image of Club, slowly forcing her way through the floor with insane determination. He prayed she would not emerge from his current position. That could be his demise.

Grave found himself struggling to maintain balance, fighting against the quakes caused by the little goblin. His attention was fully devoted to this task, at least until he saw the first cracks on the ground. Fascinated and scared to the point where all rational thoughts left his mind, he watched as the cracks gave in. The ground broke, a rising fist punching it's way through it, tearing large blocks of stone and sending them up into the air.

Marble, huh. That seemed to be the only thought in Cynder's mind as he watched large chunks of stone, each big enough to kill him, bounce off the shield, merely covering him in dust. He nearly failed to notice that the last tremor made him lose balance. Watching the scene from this significantly lower vantage point, Cynder wondered why he felt so calm and whether this was just a shock setting in... Then looked in front of him, into two glowing eyes. And felt an urge to scream.

There was something truly demonic about Club's visage, something that suggested pure, savage force capable of tearing mountains with a single touch. Oh, was all Grave managed to think of. His old man once told him tales about a time when elementals and incarnations ruled the land. Club had to be the second incarnation of Brawn, the only force to make the whole world shudder. What he just saw easily supported the idea. Oh.

Oh. Time flowed so slowly, the world seemed like a dream he was just waking up from. Oh. He could feel his mother's suprise, something he did not expect. His emotions were those of pure terror. Oh. His attention focused on the glowing eyes before him, he nearly missed the fact that Club was apparently preparing to attack. With sudden clarity, he realized how he wanted to finish the thought that repeated itself in his mind.

Oh. Oh shit. Then, he blinked.

The following events went by so fast, Cynder didn't even have time to grow more terrified, which was probably a good thing. As he opened his eyes, he saw the barrier in front of him shatter, breached by a single fist. He saw Club draw the limb back and lunge at him, mouth open. As she moved through the dust obscuring Cynder's view, he wondered what kind of fangs she kept hidden there. Then, he saw a sight he'd remember for the rest of his days.

Instead of a savage beast seeking to claim him, Grave saw a girl, crying and reaching out to him. A girl capable of throwing him all the way across the room, but still just a little girl. Someone who longed for him, who waited for him impatiently, sad and lonely. Who cried tears of joy at his return, going to insane lenghts just to see him sooner. Who in spite of her strenght, still needed someone close to her. Almost without thinking, Grave wrapped his arms around her.

Cynder didn't mind the fact that his shirt was covered in dust - probably something else as well - and wet. It's been through worse over the past few years. He didn't mind the tight hug he was trapped in - after all, it seemed that Club could control her strenght. He didn't mind the fact that she was so close to him, something he found particularly suprising. His nigh-paranoid distrust and earlier experiences with sex should have made him a little uncomfortable.

Thinking about it, Grave realized why he didn't mind. No matter what, he couldn't bring himself to push Club away, not after seeing her face as she confronted him. Not after hearing her cry. She hit him deeper in his heart than he considered possible. Hugging her a little closer, Grave realized he had what he longed for, and that somehow, even though descriptions escaped his mind, he understood the girl's feeling. That he didn't want to let go. No longer afraid, he felt that he was about to cry himself. "I'm back, Club. I missed you."
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Club let out a small squeal when Grave's arms wrapped around her short body, her face snuggling closer to his chest, while sobbing constantly. Her fingers curled around the material of his shirt, nearly threatening to tear it off just by holding it. As a breeze passed through the tower, Cynder would feel a chill along the cold, wet spots on his shirt, brought about by Club's downpour of tears.

Suddenly, and without warning, Club's hand hits Grave's chest. Obviously not as her attack upon Cynthia's solid marble, but enough to steal a single breath away. "Don't ever leave Club again! Don't ever leave her again! Club will never forgive you if you leave her again!" she cried, shouting at him with a broken voice, choking on the mucus collecting in her throat. "Don't leave Club..." she told him again, repeating herself in a lowered tone that suggested shouting like that was hurting her throat.

The pieces of marble, in the meantime, were slowly lifting into the air, and collected. Cynthia held her wings spread out, as if orchestrating a musical, and directed the many pieces with her wings. In the matter of a few seconds, each and every single bit of marble flooring was replaced, before an intense heat suddenly washed over Cynder's wet skin, warming the damp spots on his chest, while the cracks between the marble were suddenly very hot.

A moment following, and there wasn't a single sign of Club's damaging attack. Cynthia had repaired the destruction just as fast as it had occurred.

Distracted a moment by the intense display of magic, Grave would suddenly note that, once the room was silent, Club wasn't moving. Limp, it seemed that something was wrong. Logically, it would be correct to assume that she hurt herself in her rage. But upon checking her, should Cynder have been panicked, he'd be relieved to see her breathing, and better yet, snoring.

She had fallen asleep on top of him.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave remained on the floor for a moment, thinking. He was glad that Club didn't tear his shirt or broke his ribs, even though both outcomes had been a possibility. She did, however, succeed in giving him a small panic attack. When he realized she wasn't moving, he felt as if his blood suddenly turned into ice. Fortunately, he quickly realized she was asleep. Cynder let out a sigh of relief upon learning that. She was probably tired.

The half blood moved carefully, trying his best not to disturb Club as he sat up, still holding her in his arms. He looked at the stone floor, now repaired by Cynthia. Her power was immense... And it seemed that the marble was indeed vulnerable to heat. The young man's thoughts strayed towards the topic of magic, power and getting enough of it to achieve his goals. Telekinesis and fire magic would be very useful, he was certain of that. He'd have to learn how to use them, though.

Grave looked at Cynthia. He really wondered what the crow was thinking. Was she even bothered by the whole scene? He had a sneaking suspicion the answer would be "no". The tengu was very hard to read, speaking so little and choosing her words carefully, not to mention showing few emotions. She had probably seen this coming from a mile away. Hell, she probably knew what she was in for the moment she suggested leaving Club in the tower. "You said she's been... Restless?"

There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Cynthia, her back to Grave, slowly lowered her wings, folding them to herself to keep her petite shape, taking up little room at all. She began to speak, but did not turn to Cynder. "There are some outcomes I cannot predict." she says suddenly, as if speaking on a topic completely different to the one he spoke openly, rather, the topic Grave spoke to himself about, wondering just how much Cynthia knew. Apparently, she knew what he was thinking as well.

"I did not know what you would do in those ruins. Whether you saved Valencia from the start, or attempted kill them the moment you knew they were after your family treasure, either was a possibility," she admitted.

Suddenly, she turned, facing him with an emotionless expression, her sharp, red eyes locked on him where he sat on the ground, almost making her seem as if she were towering over him, looking down at him with eyes that could see for miles. "I wanted to know if you would end up killing me." Her eyes suddenly shifted to the side, looking to the books she had yet to clean up completely, before they started to slowly levitate, and restack themselves, controlled by Cynthia's threads. "I have found, that the answer is..."

She waited until the books were stacked before returning to look at him.

"... Unlikely." she announced suddenly, as if saying it directly, and flatly to Grave. Completely blunt, something she had never done before. Give him a straight answer, which was that Cynder would likely not seek his revenge on her.

Cynthia stepped forward, her talons clicking on the marble floor, until she took a knee besides him, looking at him directly in the eyes, as she always had during their conversations. Grave would suddenly feel a talon lightly touch him on the shoulder, gripping him like a hand as her wing extended to reach him. "I trust you, Cynder. As I've said, my life belongs to you. I can rest assured, knowing that you have grown up into a good person..."

Cynthia's eyes blinked once, and only once, before Cynder would see her cheeks flush. An odd display of emotion, before she began to move forward, her intent unclear. Before Grave could do much of anything, especially with Club sleeping on top of him, he'd feel Cynthia's incredibly soft lips touch against his own, chapped lips. With Cynthia's cold expression, it might've taken him a moment to realize that Cynthia was kissing him.

Not a deep kiss, Cynthia was pulling back the moment she had done the act, a small smile of satisfaction on her face, the flush still present as she smiled down at Cynder. "Thank you, Cynder, for having a beautiful heart."
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave kept part of his attention on Cynthia, part on Club. Both the goblin and the half-blood needed some rest, altough the man figured he could wait with it for a bit, if only to ensure that the little girl was put in a bed. However, when Cynthia spoke, his head turned towards her. Cynder quickly learned that the woman's words were worth listening to. Especially whenever she spoke as if she was reading his mind. That habit of her's was annoying, but she did provide quite a lot of useful exposition.

The young man was not sure whether he should be happy about the fact that Cynthia's predictions were limited, or worry about how uncertain they were. However, he quickly realized that it meant that in the end, he'd be the one shaping the events, not some prophecy or premonition. A tough burden, but then again... Everyone carried the same kind of burden. Grave was accepting the fact that he had to be responsible for his actions, a choice he had made after emerging from the tomb.

As for his thoughts about Valencia, he had to admit he had been considering the possibility of having to fight the hunter, even if he didn't voice it. The moment he saw her before the gate and learned that she was a treasure hunter, Cynder had been wondering how to deal with the woman in case she tried to take what was his. She wouldn't leave without some kind of bounty, and he was pretty damn stubborn too if he felt like it. Perhaps he would have killed her, but he wasn't sure. He spared that spider, after all, though now he wasn't exactly sure why he couldn't bring himself to do anything else. Conscience kicking in, perhaps.

What really caught his attention was Cynthia's own question: would he kill her? He had a reason. Revenge wasn't necessarily a noble goal, in fact it was often frowned upon as far as Grave heard, but it was good enough for a reason to kill someone. After all, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that humans killed others at the drop of a hat - heck, soldiers often killed just because they've been told to do that, nothing personal involved. He had a motivation, and from the looks of it, he'd have plenty of opportunities. Yet he still had found himself eagerly waiting for the crow to finish her sentence, like a child waiting to hear the end of a fascinating story.

Cynder was, of course, more than slightly suprised by Cynthia's conclusion. He had opened his mouth to protest on an impulse, then thought about it. If he looked at it from an outsider's point of view, he could see why she reached such a conclusion. So far, he didn't do much in terms of expressing open hostility, and he seemed to trust her advice and seek her guidance. Even from his perspective he realized he had to agree that he put other matters above seeking revenge. What if he changed his mind after dealing with all of this? Would that be a bad decision?

When Cynthia approached him, kneeling close to him, Grave looked back into her eyes, frowning a little. She trusted him, and was firmly convinced that he was a good person. He was less than certain about that... But he had to admit that at least he tried. His conscience wasn't dead either, which he decided to consider a good sign for now. Still, having someone leave her life in his hands felt a bit overwhelming. He barely had any kind of social interaction aside of living with his old man, and now someone was telling him he had power over someone's life? Crazy. He had a nagging feeling that the whole island was like this.

All of this was a lot to think about, and Cynder didn't have a habit of leaving thinking for another time. Which was probably why he didn't get why Cynthia suddenly blushed, or why she was leaning towards him, with her wing resting on his shoulder. He didn't quite realize what was going on even as she kissed him, altough the delicate sensation of her lips touching his own snapped him out of trance. Before he could react, however, Cynthia broke the kiss, and the moment had passed without a trace. Well, except for one - the half-blood was starting to blush as well. He was also realizing how weird he must have looked, sitting on the floor in a rather dirty state. He needed a bath.

But first, he needed to reply. And considering how awkward the situation was for him, this was not coming easy. Grave glanced to the side, breaking the eye contact for a moment, as if looking for inspiration. He found nothing. "I... I don't know if it's beautiful or not." The blush seemed to fade for a moment. "But I'll do my best to set things right. You can count on that. And speaking of good deeds..." He shifted a bit, slowly getting uncomfortable from sitting on stone floor. "Got any beds here?I can't exactly hold Club like this all day."

Well, one couldn't say he was not thinking practically.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Rising to stand, Cynthia let Grave do the same as she continued to smile at him. "Take the door under the staircase," she told him, "There is a fresh bed for you and Club below, at the east wing of the library."

Turning from him, a single eye stayed locked on him, while her smile continued to show an affecting for the one she directed it at. "I'll prepare something hot to eat, and some tea to help you sleep," she whispered in almost a motherly tone, or perhaps even just a woman's tone, doing something for the one she likes.

Turning completely, Cynthia elegantly stepped away, and began to walk up to the second floor, where the kitchen and dining room were, and her own bedroom at the highest floor, where only one with wings could reach, a modest square hole in the ceiling. And without another word, she vanished to the room above.

Sleeping soundly, Cynder would find that Club had drooled a little in her sleep, wetting his shirt slightly. She was truly exhausted. And no matter how he moved her, even if he hung her upside down, Club would not wake. And she would remain that way, until Grave would reach the underground of Cynthia's tower.

The materials used to construct the 'dungeon' of the tower were no different than the kind used for the upper floor. The darkness from the underground was illuminated by strange gems that cast a pure white light onto the tan colored marble. And upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, the sight was quite magnificent. Underneath the tower, was a large library, likely containing over a thousand books. In the middle of the room, amidst the shelves housing the many written works, were several tables, accompanied by comfortable looking chairs.

The various books, and their titles definitely seemed too old for Cynthia to have written in her lifetime. And there were far too many to have been written by one woman. Some titles were actually journals, and since there was one journal for each section, Cynder would notice that each section of books weren't categorized by name, or topic, but by who wrote them. Upon this realization, Grave would count at least three dozen generations of Cynthia's family who lived here.

Though obviously not just from a single line of mother to daughter, that is still quite a massive family tree that's been recorded within this library.

Finding the room Cynthia mentioned, Cynder's first steps into the guest bedrooms would be humble, as the marble was decorated with a darkblue, aquatic design. Various white streaks of varied intensity looked like light warped by ripples in the water. And upon closer inspection, they were 'moving' slightly, giving the room the serene appearance of being under the water.

It was when Grave reached this room, that Club suddenly moved a little. "Gwave..." the small goblin groaned, her hands reaching out to cling to him.

She gave no more words after speaking his name, only groaning slightly, and seeking to cling to him further. She by no means, was cleaner than he. And as filthy as they were, it was almost a disgrace to the clean covers of the soft, plush beds that awaited them. But thankfully, there was a tub nearby, made of a dark marble, with a faucet over it. Something occasionally seen, Cynder would faintly know what a faucet is, and how it functions. But the design behind it was a mystery. Simply put, all he knew of it was that they were pipes of metal, that allowed water to travel through them when you turned the handle. And usually, as with this faucet, they are linked to a hot spring, so that the water comes out, nice and hot. Ready to purify Grave and Club's dirty flesh.

Perhaps that was when he'd consider it; should he wash Club as well?
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

"Ah, thanks." Grave nodded, standing up. He watched Cynthia depart, more out of curiosity than anything else. It seemed that her bedroom was in a place that offered her maximum privacy. He liked that. He didn't like the idea of anyone disturbing his sleep at all, and approved of the tengu's choice. Turning around, he began to move in the direction of the staircase, through the door and in the direction of the east wing.

Cynder was aware of the fact that Club had just added another fluid to the rather impressive collection of dirt that his shirt managed to soak over the years. It made him uncomfortably aware of the fact that his own body was dirty, too. When was the last time he had a proper bath? Or washed his clothes? He rarely had a chance to do so, and after the incident with the ship he had no spare clothes. All he had was that bag he snatched from the village and it's contents, a sword and the rags he was wearing. That being said, he liked his clothes, as worn as they were. He had few possessions, but he was attached to them.

That didn't change the fact that he needed to take care of the rather poor state he was in. Grave pushed that thought to the back of his mind, though, as soon as he noticed the immense library. Writing a book was by no means an easy task, and such a big collection was worth a fortune. His respect for Cynthia's family increased considerably. He really wanted to stop and browse the shelves, familiarize himself with the knowledge gathered here... Some of these books were probably ancient, and probably never left this library. The half-blood doubted that there were any copies outside. Dear gods... Such an impressive family.

Shaking his head with disappointment, Cynder let ought a heavy sigh and resumed walking. His thoughts, straying away from the topic of books, quickly found something else to focus on. Namely, those strange gems that created light. Was it a natural effect? Or perhaps some kind of enchantment? Probably the latter. This reminded the half-blood of his own need - and desire - to learn more magic. Cynthia mentioned something about fire spells before... Or something like that. For a moment, he tried to imagine a spell designed to set things on fire. It'd be very nice to have that kind of power.

The interior of the bedroom suprised Grave. After all, he had never thought that one could make a stone wall with a moving pattern on it. A trick of light, most likely, but a nice touch, especially on that marble. Looking around, he quickly noticed the bed. It looked so warm and cozy, reminding the young man of his own fatigue... But at the same time, the little goblin clinging to him reminded him of how dirty the two of them were. They both needed a bath, fast. Fortunately, there was a bathtub available, made of dark marble. Cynder sighed. Was everything here made of marble? He ceased complaining when he noticed the faucet, though.

For a moment, he stood there, suprised. A faucet wasn't something a mere commoner could afford. He knew how to use one - figuring that out wasn't difficult, to be honest - but he had no idea what made it work. Well, he actually had some theories, but without any kind of proof, he was only guessing. Most of the time, they didn't quite match reality, anyway. Cynthia's place would definitely make a lot of people envious. Grave silently thanked the crow for putting so much effort in furnishing her tower. However, as he moved towards the tub, he quickly realized that he had a little problem.

He had to wash Club as well.

Cynder never had any siblings, but he suspected that older brothers/sisters had to face similiar situations with their younger siblings. Ah, yes. That's it. All he had to do was imagine Club as his little sister. He could probably wash her clothes along with his own, too. Sighing, he put her on the ground for a moment, back against the tub, then got to filling the tub with water. He took off his jacket and put it on the floor before starting to remove Club's clothes. A quick wash, and he'd put her back to bed. Then, he'd take care of himself.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Turning the handle, an unfamiliar sight that might alert Grave, was the sudden stream of hot spring water that came from the faucet. The steam from the fresh water heated his face, and soon warmed the entire room. The steam filling the air made the aquatic marble look like a misty ocean night. And the bath water couldn't have looked more inviting, nor purifying. No doubt, a perfect night's sleep would follow after a prolonged bath in such water.

Turning to Club, with the mindset of a sibling, Cynder's undoing of Club's clothing was a rather simple task. Likely, this was due to the goblin's level of intelligence, as any sort of complicated clothing would be beyond her abilities to wear.

With that fact in mind, it took but a few seconds, before the dirty Club was wearing nothing but her skin. Even without her outlandish clothing, and massive weapon, her brown horns, and mature, powerful little body still gave off a powerful presence, almost making Grave believe she would be heavy when he'd take her into his arms, when she was in fact, fairly light. And limply, she laid into his arms, with what might be seen, if one looked closely enough, as a smile...

Lowering her small frame into the tub, Club's smile grew. Then, as he was getting the soap, and starting to wash along her body, Club's smile vanished, turning into a frown, as her eyes went wide open. Turning to Cynder with a snarl, her hands reached out, and grabbed him by his black shirt. "How can Club take advantage of Gwave if he doesn't GET IN THE TUB!?" she growled angrily at him, before pulling with all her strength, dragging Grave into the tub with a large splash, sending water everywhere, forcing him to bathe with all of his dirty clothes on.
 
Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)

Grave wasn't that suprised when hot water came out of the faucet - he expected something like this to happen - even if he was a little startled by the sight. The steam wasn't expected, on the other hand, but the sensation was far from being unpleasant. In fact, it made the bathroom an even better place, especially with the illusion created by the marble and hot mist. Cynder really wanted to get into the water and take his time... But first, he had to take care of Club. The poor girl needed a bath as much as he did.

Taking her clothes off was no challenge for the half-blood. Personally, he had nothing against simple clothes, as long as they did their job. To him, durability was what mattered most - and the stuff he was wearing seemed to be exceptionally good in this regard, even if it was starting to show signs of getting worn down. How long was he using those, anyway? Two years? And yet, they have retained much of their original properties. Cynder wondered whether Club used something similiar. She was the type to get into trouble often, after all.

Grave was a little suprised by the sight of the goblin's body. For someone so small and child-like, she had a really well-built body. Fitting, considering how absurdly strong she was. He actually expected her to be heavy - until he remembered that he carried her before. Lifting the girl hadn't been a problem back then, and it wasn't a problem this time either. Her small smile caught the half-blood's attention. Was it his presence that made her so comfortable? He couldn't help but feel a bit happy about this, and also smiled, if only a little. He sure felt rather tired...

Placing the girl in water, Cynder missed the fact that Club's smile widened, distracted by his own idle musings. As he started to clean her body, however, he couldn't help but notice her frowning suddenly. As she opened her eyes, Grave suddenly developed a really bad feeling about what was about to happen. The fact that he was grabbed by the shirt didn't help. "Wha-" That was the only response he managed to utter, stunned by Club's words, before he found himself underwater. Under hot water. In his clothes. Without having a chance to close his eyes or catch a breath.

Flailing around, Grave desperately tried to get himself together and regain his balance, then return to an acceptable position. After a short moment, he managed to achieve the result he desired... Altough that didn't mean he was happy. His clothes were wet - sure, he was planning to wash them, but at least she could have waited until he got the damn boots off! Sighing, Cynder calmly took off his shoes and let them drop on the floor outside the tub. After a moment of thought, he decided that his jacket and shirt might as well join them. He wasn't sure about the pants, though.

Grave turned his head towards Club, giving her a weary look. "You know... You could have asked me to join you." Well, he didn't have much dignity left after this, but he'd be damned if he wasn't deadpan or snarky about something today! "Something to consider next time you try to..." He recalled what Club said before throwing him in. He quickly analyzed the meaning of those words. And considered the implications. Cynder was pretty sure that while someone else would have probably been happy about such a development, he sure as Hell didn't know whether he should. Not that he had much of a choice, it seemed.

'Freaking. Hell.'
 
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