tushanshu_logs | and you seem to break like time

Entry tags:

and you seem to break like time

Characters: Catch-all for Solomon
Date: October
Location: Various places, specifically his apartment and Emily-Helen's pyramid just outside of the city
Situation: Solomon has things to do. And some people have things to do with him.
Warnings/Rating: Permadeath, Necromancy, mummification.

A: The tomb
The kedan finished the pyramid in impressive time. It helped that Solomon was paying them well, and when payment wasn't enough he threatened. At least some people were still afraid of the shadows--and Malicant's recent play had actually helped with that. It didn't make the kedan like him, and now they scattered when they saw him coming, but no one wanted to mess with a Necromancer when a being of the death-plane held so much obvious power over the city.

The pyramid was small, for a pyramid, set on one of the hills where Emily-Helen had enjoyed sunbathing. It was large enough for Emily-Helen's body and the barest necessities for her journey into the next life. Hieroglyphs covered every wall. The sigils protecting the inside and outside had been harder, and Solomon had in the end submitted to approaching Shudder for help with that in a very awkward encounter he had no intention of repeating. The writing of some of those sigils had been incorporated into the ritual when Emily-Helen was interred, but others were pre-written, only to be closed--ones to protect the pyramid from degradation and damage, and to ward the doorway and interior from incursion.

Solomon wasn't fluent in Egyptian, but he had been doing his research and he did remember some of the rituals in which he'd participated when he had visited the Temple there; between those he managed a complete, if simplified, series of rituals to properly inter the turtle-hatchling. He had left messages for those he knew would want to be present, but hadn't made a public announcement. Somehow he doubted Bakura would appreciate that.

The rituals took some time, but even after they were over Solomon waited at the tomb until the rest of those present had left. He send Marcelon away and stayed out of immediate sight but didn't try to hide himself either, standing in the shadows at the bottom of the hill. The door to the tomb had been left open.

B: At home
Leaving aside the work on Emily-Helen's body, Solomon still had plenty to do. There was trying to finish mapping the tunnels under the shell, for one. He had sent zombified birds down into the holes, trying to find where the chink in the shell in the ritual chamber led. So far few of them had returned, and without much success. He had left marks on the diomara where needed.

Right now his research into the Dreaming seemed both laughably off-track and potentially saving. If there was a way to flee into it, or use it as a weapon against Malicant ... there was too much potential in it to give it up, and yet it was time-consuming. Solomon persevered nevertheless, and now that Skulduggery wasn't tainted home was probably the safest place for Solomon right now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Allow me to hazard a guess," said Solomon with a suppressed smile. "You taught history, or would have if given the chance for a single subject." The room was altogether too small, and the shelves too collected, to have been part of a larger campus. In a small town a single room was all the community could afford--if they could afford to teach their children at all.

That meant Raine was most likely the only teacher for the surrounds. Somehow Solomon hadn't been expecting that; she was too logical to come across to someone to whom others would entrust their children.

"Both," Solomon said. "Familiarity may be a combination of emotions, but it's effective, nevertheless." There was one thing he wanted to see whether he could manifest, but it wasn't something he wanted present a tall times. Not that he needed it, specifically, because Stark Industries housed a forge, but even still Solomon would rather not rely on Stark's good will. He turned toward the far corner, where the floor was all timber and there was a dearth of shelving (or at least books), and focussed on the area. This wasn't a change in the general theme of the location, or the outside surroundings; it was a very specific addition to a very specific area.

It didn't happen easily. Slowly and sluggishly the floor rippled and it grew an anvil, a forge, a localised replica of the forges in the Temple. Solomon's temples throbbed and he closed his eyes and let his concentration lapse for just a moment, and when he opened them the forge was gone. So he'd have to make allowances in the wards, or maintain his concentration just to keep the forge present. Frustrating, but good to know.

Raine laughed quietly, as he had her absolutely correct on that front. "Yes, that's right," she said. Archaeology, to be specific, but it fit under the larger heading and in any case there was little call for teaching just that facet. Perhaps that would change. "The latter, more precisely."

She watched the floor shift and change, wondered what he was attempting but reasoned it would be obvious in short order anyway, and there was little point in interrupting concentration. The shape of a forge was, if not familiar, then at the very least recognizable, once it was near fully formed. Raine stayed clear of the still-shifting space for the moment, and hummed thoughtfully when it subsided. Judging by the speed of each process there had been more than a little resistance to making it; the room wanted to remain as it was. "That answers one question, at least," she said, glancing briefly over the space where the forge had been.

Why start with something of that size, rather than something smaller, unless he had direct use for that specific thing? Hm. "You're planning to forge something?"

"Not today," Solomon admitted. "Stark Industries has the resources, but it's not somewhere I want to rely upon." Not that he'd ever had any intention of Stark knowing, but just relying on the building and its resources, whether they actually belonged to this version of Stark or not, was asking for trouble given Solomon hadn't commissioned anything from the boy directly.

Solomon didn't quite know how far the youth's possessive and entitled streak went, and at this point in time he didn't want to test that boundary.

He regarded the space for a moment. "I'll have to make an allowance. The fact is ..." Solomon sighed. "The fact is, Raine, that my sanity right now depends upon the boon I was given." The boon given by Malicant. Solomon wasn't afraid of the name, but he didn't know whether Malicant could hear him in there, with that connection to the turtle, and he wasn't eager to take the risk. "I'm not relishing the idea of going back to how things were, and I'm frankly not sure I can, but having an item might enable me to circumvent some of the boon's influence."

She remembered that discussion, and all its implications, well enough to catch what he wasn't saying. That which was keeping him mentally sound was directly attributable to Malicant. There might be a very little room for doubt, but the worst, while unfortunate, was safest to assume.

It made her very cold, for a moment, to consider what Malicant might do with that boon. Raine circled the spot where the forge had briefly been, using the motion and time to calm worry into something a little more usable. "A foothold," she said aloud, and stopped near Solomon. "Of course."

She shook her head then, and looked at him directly. "It's a start, and the only thing you can realistically do right now, correct?" A pause. Then, not unkindly, but because she had a need to know, "What exactly will happen, if the boon ceases to protect you?"

"Correct," Solomon said. "It might not work--the magic I'll need to put into the item might be just as--" His mouth quirked. "--tainted as I currently am." Maybe not tainted in the usual sense but tainted nevertheless, because Malicant had a grip on his magic and the very nature of how it worked. If Solomon couldn't place that magic in an item without it being just as compromised, then he was going to be in trouble.

Solomon looked evenly back at Raine. "I'll become addicted again," he said. "I'll stop being able to see the lines between need and want, between death and life. I'll start using magic for everything. I'll--" He took a deep breath. "--I'll see people and want their power, and eventually I'll stop seeing anything wrong with experimenting with it. I'll start using the death-aura. I won't stop. If I don't have an item to filter the addiction."

He'd gotten too powerful to stand without a filter now. Not and stay sane. Maybe too powerful to even use an item anymore, but the alternative was that he was slammed by the need as soon as that boon went away. He didn't know whether that was something he could stand.

Raine closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she didn't see where this might be going. Took a breath of her own, and focused on him again. "And it's nothing that anyone without a boon could replicate, because the item has to be specific to you." That she wasn't a hundred percent sure of, but it would fit.

There was a weight, heavy in her chest, and she didn't want to follow this thread, but needed to, anyway. Needed to know for sure. "Is there anything else that can be done to help, that you know of?"

"There's one thing," Solomon admitted, "and it has slightly more chance of working than the alternative--not much, but slightly." He didn't think she had mistaken the implication of what he was saying, or the implication of what he'd mean by 'alternative'. The problem with that particular alternative was that it involved killing him, and judging by what had happened in the ritual-chamber he might be able to subvert and use that on its own.

"There are sigils which can bind magic," he said, and it actually took more effort to keep steady than it had before. The idea of having his magic bound, being reduced to a mortal lifespan--even though that would take months, even years, to wear off, the very thought left him in a cold chill. "I can show them to you. If we can't find manacles elsewhere, we can see about having them manufactured--I'm sure Shudder would be willing to help. In lieu of that, a bound room. You'd have to get me into it, or you'd have to get the manacles on me, but that should be enough to keep me sane. As long as I don't starve or get too close to dying myself."

The last was added on almost in afterthought. He'd done that before. He'd almost died and used his own death to get out of manacles exactly like that.

It was... something. Better than outright having to kill him. Raine had learned Resurrection in good part to prevent any more tragedies like that, people having to kill friends or lovers become monsters, and there was a horrible sort of irony to the fact she now found herself skirting that position. "All right," she said, quietly. She didn't quite have a grasp on what it meant, but nor did she have the impression that this was an option offered lightly. "If nothing else, it will give us the opportunity to find a better solution."

Raine stopped there, considering him, and after a moment closed the gap between them, despite that it made her have to look up to meet his eyes. Firmly, she added, "This hasn't yet come to pass, and there's no guarantee it will. It's foolish not to plan for the worst, yes, but don't resign yourself to death or imprisonment before other options have been exhausted." She was a practical woman, yes. But she'd seen first-hand just how well hope could drive people forward.

Maybe it would come to this, but there was still the possibility it wouldn't, and she'd do everything she could to see that it didn't.

Solomon watched Raine while she let that sink in, and watched her as she approached, but it was the resolve in her tone which made the difference. Usually Solomon didn't put much stock in hope. Usually, he felt like it was courting fate to even entertain hope; hope got in the way. Pragmatism reached an end. He wasn't sure what it meant that he was grateful for Raine's resolve.

"It seems more likely than not," Solomon said quietly without giving an inch, without shifting his gaze from her face. "I can't remove the boon, Raine, and he's going to use it against me. It's not a possibility; it's a fact. He's going to use me as a tool, and I don't know whether I'll be able to stop it. But even on the unlikely possibility that he doesn't, and we win--if we win, what are the chances the boon will stay?"

And if it did, what were the chances Malicant could use those boons to revive himself? Solomon was between a wall and a hard place. Skulduggery's boon wasn't going to render him insane when it left. Solomon didn't know anyone else's boon that would. Even if they won, chances were Solomon would fall.

Edited 2014-11-03 10:45 (UTC)

"Solomon," she said, soft, and stopped there, because she couldn't deny anything that he'd said. The boons came from Asti; the Asti that they had met was almost assuredly Malicant; Malicant was canny enough that it wouldn't play anything that wouldn't be used later, and Solomon's had put him in a uniquely bad situation.

Finally she exhaled heavily, and her shoulders slumped a little. "You're right," she said, resigned. "The chances for a wholly positive outcome are slim, at best. Even if Tu Vishan survives beyond the persona of Asti that our enemy created, the chance of him doing something is also not something to bet on. Most likely, what's coming is going to be unpleasant and heartbreaking."

Raine pressed her lips together, nodded. It was a tiny gesture, affirming her own resolve rather than anything else, but her demeanor shifted with it, from resignation to determination. "Regardless. We are going to explore every possibility there may be to avert or mitigate it. We know what the worst may be, and what it may require. We'll prepare for it, yes, but in the mean time, I will not stand by and watch -- this -- happen to you without trying to stop it."

Heartbreaking. Solomon wasn't sure why, but it was the word heartbreaking that hit him hardest. He couldn't tell whether she meant heartbreaking for anyone he might kill, or hurt, and the people who didn't want to see them so; or whether she meant heartbreaking for them. For him. No one, or at least not for a very long time, had indicated they realised he had a heart to break.

How did Raine manage that, more than once? It was as though she instilled in him emotions he hadn't even known existed in himself, or even thought he could own. He wasn't even sure what they were.

Solomon seemed to recall this feeling some time ago, this mismatch of gratitude and discomfort and ... and fondness, though to be fair he hadn't identified the fondness at the time. He also recalled he hadn't had much of an idea in how to respond. This time, he had a little more of one. He leaned down and tilted her chin up and kissed her gently, in a way he couldn't recall ever kissing anyone before, and then pulled back enough to say quietly, "Thank you."

Thank you. Raine blinked up at him, trying to sort out in that moment what emotion had been behind that gentleness, why he was thanking her. There was still every chance that things would turn out exactly as he'd said, no matter how much they tried, and both of them knew that well enough.

Some things in life couldn't be changed, no matter how much determination was thrown at them. Still, she had to try before she'd know if this was one of those. Was that it-- simply the willingness to try anyway?

She gave him a small smile, one with faint sorrow around the edges. "How could I do anything less?" she asked, mostly rhetorical. If it was in her power, she'd find a way. If not... well. It was a little disconcerting, how unpleasant the thought of losing him was, and rather than think on that Raine reached up to tug Solomon back down to her, kissed him with equal care.

Since the question was rhetorical, Solomon chose not to interrupt Raine's next action by trying to answer it. Not that Solomon needed the distraction--but he was certainly going to welcome it for what it was, and he returned the kiss with a steady sort of intent. He didn't break off, either, but used the fingers already cupping her chin to keep her face upraised.

The kisses back on the hill had been acknowledgments and teases combined. The one previous had been grateful. This one was exploratory, slow, in some ways indulgent, but Solomon wasn't above tantalising her too--his fingers moved up the line of her face, half a caress and half with intent to discover something he'd been wondering about, but idly, for some time now.

Solomon's thumb followed the line of Raine's ear to a peak higher than any humans. So that part was true, then. Interesting. "What's this?" he murmured against Raine's lips, his thumb stroking the upper lobe of Raine's ear and fingers cupping the back of her head through her hair. "How intriguing. One might almost think you were a faery, Master Healer Sage."

What, exactly, was the difference that had prompted such a superficial change in physiological? Did elves and half-elves have markedly superior hearing? Heightened body-temperature, so that a slight increase in surface area was needed? Solomon didn't know enough about biology to make any assertions, but they were questions that deserved asking. --A bit later, perhaps.

It was still new to her, kissing him, and for the time being her focus narrowed solely to that slow exploration, simply appreciating the sensations. Her breath caught but a little when she realized where he was going, and Raine made a very conscious decision to lean ever so fractionally into his touch. Her heritage, here, had only the weight she carried with her.

Strange, the feeling of his thumb against the point of her ear, but not unpleasant. Something Raine could get used to. Wanted the opportunity to get used to. "You knew I was a half-elf," she said against his mouth, not quite to laughing. The reappearance of 'Master Healer Sage' made her sure Solomon was teasing, one way or another, though why he'd chosen that of all things still escaped her.

Ordinarily she'd approve of such science, but in this instance it was better that it waited. She left one hand light against his chest, reached with the other to cup the back of his neck, thumb brushing over the corner of his jaw. For a moment she paused over his pulse, more thanks to the habit of seeking such things out than any actual intention. Still reassuring.

"I've no idea what you mean," Solomon said entirely deadpan, but with his voice low. He kissed her again, over and over, slow and frustratingly even. His thumb grazed her upper earlobe, his fingers caressed the lower. He'd never had much inclination toward specific areas of a partner's body, but he had to admit he was fascinated by this.

Why did elves have pointed ears?

Solomon was slightly distracted by the touch on the back of his neck and the beat of his pulse under Raine's thumb. Or more to the point, rather distracted. He was fairly sure it was an accident, just chance, but it did so happen that he enjoyed touch to his back and the nape of his neck. On the unfortunate side, that made it somewhat more imperative he break things off here. Anticipation was its own reward, for one. For another, somehow it seemed like an admission of defeat to leap into one another's arms all the way to the obvious result--as if they wouldn't get the chance to do so later.

Hope might have been something of an alien sensation, but morale was something Solomon understood, and there were times the long-term morale required an element of restraint.

So after one last slow nibble of Raine's lower lip Solomon stepped back, his expression completely impassive but eyes gleaming laughter and a few other more intimate things. "I believe I've gotten off-topic. I do apologise, Master Healer Sage. Where we we? Manipulating the Dreaming, I believe ..."

If she'd been unsure before how much of a tease Solomon was going to be, this cleared it up. Raine could appreciate his evenness, the slow measured pace of each kiss, and while it was almost frustrating the implied patience was reassuring. They had time enough, or would. Time enough to learn exactly how far that patience stretched. And what exactly it was he had about her ears.

When he stepped away the look she gave him was utterly exasperated, but her rational mind triumphed after a moment. The Dreaming, manifested in this manner, was hardly a practical place; they would have time later, one way or another; rushing either partner in the pursuit of physical intimacy had the potential to end in disaster. And he was still teasing her. Of course he was. Raine shook her head, unable to quite conceal a smile. All right. Back to something resembling business for now, then. "Consciously manipulating the Dreaming, yes. Which the wards you emplaced have made harder, but not impossible." And, almost absently, she brushed her hair back on one side, tucking it behind her ear.

For just a moment Solomon's gaze tracked the movement of that hand and her hair, and he studied the shape of her ear, something she had always avoided showing. He couldn't recall ever seeing her with her hair tied back, though her initial explanation of mixed-heritage explained why. Then he returned his attention to her face, and there was the faintest smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

He was decently sure Raine intended that as passive revenge, and he wasn't complaining.

"I may have to amend them to allow for the forge," Solomon said. "Especially since I'd need to summon it in future--I'd like to be able to do that without having to maintain all my concentration just to keep it present. Otherwise ..." He surveyed the area. "Is there anything else you might suggest adding?"

The sharp points to her ears, while not something completely surprising, would be enough in a crowd of humans to mark her out without much effort. Hence her preference. It wasn't something she'd have done anywhere else, but here Raine gave the gesture little more thought than to note Solomon's reaction and move on.

"Even having someone else maintain the forge would be prohibitively unreliable; altering the wards may be the best recourse." She glanced around the room again, considering what might be a worthwhile enough addition to merit the effort, but between the study and the schoolhouse and the forge they shouldn't want for much. "Hm. Not right now, no. I think what's here should be for the most part sufficient."

"I agree," said Solomon, and nodded. "Alright. Remain here a moment? I'll get the book." So saying, he left through the archway but returned only a moment later with a different book, this one thinner and newer. It was the one he'd been using to branch out somewhat, to develop stabilising wards and locks around the archway. He knew the sigils contained in it, but not quite so well as the ones that defined the arch itself, so they would likely both have need of it.

He showed it to Raine. "These need to be written into the arch here, here and here," he said, pointing to areas at the top and on the sides. "And at the base of the door, as well. They'll keep the appearance solid. Leave these areas clear, and ignore these sets." He indicated some more. "I need to do some work on them to allow for the forge."

Raine obligingly remained there, took that moment to take a deep breath. When Solomon returned she was composed, and she studied the book when he showed it to her, making mental notes. This facet of magic might be beneficial to learn for herself eventually, too, in addition to what she could about his world's sigils. It would likely have to be put off till much later, however.

"All right," she said, when she had enough of a grasp on what needed to be done to start. She'd need to refer back to the book for the fine details of the sigils, but which chunks needed to go where was easy enough to remember. "Will leaving those undone for the moment compromise anything?"

"No," said Solomon, "though if you leave these--" He indicated matching symbols on each of the sets. "--out, it will help what you're writing stabilise without the expectation to be connected to other sigils. We can add them later and it removes the raw nerve in what you're writing, so to speak."

He tore out the relevant pages with the help of a sharp shadow and handed them to her. "I'll be at the desk."

The forge was too complex a construct to actively allow it and only it through the wards, so he was going to have to amend some of the wards that would prevent the room from being manipulated at all. That meant it would be a touch more malleable than he'd originally meant, but it could well be of benefit.

"Understood," she said, taking the pages, and left him to that work. For her part, Raine set about inscribing the sigils in the indicated manner, making the tiniest of conscious shifts to the Dreaming for an implement to do so, which neatly answered another question and was simultaneously useful. She was content to do so in silence for now, given nothing else of pressing importance to bring up.

It was a good opportunity to test the desk and the area itself, though really all Solomon needed was the flat surface, because he didn't even choose to sit. When Solomon was satisfied with his changes he took the pages and went to Raine, but moved up behind her and stood just a touch too close to be professional. "How are you progressing?"

Even without the close steady presence of his mana -- easier to distinguish now than it had been -- it would have been hard not to notice him behind her. Raine paused mid-movement, only for a second, and finished the symbol she was currently working on before straightening fully and turning to him. "Reasonably," she said, tilting her head at the arch behind her. She wasn't quite finished with the portions he'd indicated, perhaps two thirds, but what she'd done was tidy and precise; she'd been prioritizing care over speed. "Faster, if you'd care to help with the remainder."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

and you seem to break like time

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

whoops, lost the tab sorry D:

all good

no subject