tushanshu_logs | I don't Wanna Battle from Beginning to End

"When you're as old as I am, you tend to have many faces and just as many, if not more, secrets."

She sighed, "Let's see...The most obvious one is that my physical body is defenseless while I'm soul walking. The next one is the longer I stay, the harder it is to actually maintain the connection between my soul and physical form. Another is that I can affect magic contained within the soul plane, but there are consequences to it. When I tried to release Vergil, the physical strain almost killed me and the magic ended up being too strong to affect permanently anyway." A short pause, "I can relive memories, but only the ones presented by the person whose soul I'm in, though I've never tried to sift through on my own, I'm not sure it would go well. If the person's soul plane rejects me, well, I'm not sure trying to stay would go over well."

She winced again, and again resisted the urge to jerk her arm away. He had to be almost done, or perhaps it just seemed like it was taking forever, time didn't seem to be moving right.

"Oh, I also can't do it over long distances, there has to be physical contact to stabilize the ability."

Edited 2017-11-07 01:33 (UTC)

Devin listened as he continued to stitch her injury closed; it would be ideal if he had some subcutaneous numbing agent, but that wasn't the kind of thing you got off the shelf, even in this city. Resources needed to be apportioned properly.

"I imagine letting your soul go wandering around freely isn't considered worth the risk on top of everything else," he remarked. "So, basically you can only maintain it safely or at all if the person consents to your presence." Abaddon might kick her out swiftly, if it weren't Devin empowered to make that decision. His soul was elsewhere, after all. "How aware is the person of what you're doing? Souls don't really have nerve endings."

By the time he finished speaking, he was starting to tie off the neat line of sutures, knotting one and carefully to ensure they didn't unravel or pinch her skin.

"Not necessarily," Valdis admitted, "I once did it without permission and did not experience any ill affects, but it's safer, not to mention more ethical, to gain permission first."

His curiosity over this particular ability didn't make much sense, but it was welcome distraction from the stitching.

"As far as I can tell, they don't feel anything. There was one instance, with another immortal, where I touched upon some sensitive memories and he relived them with me, but that hasn't happened with others."

Valdis looked over as he finished, eyeing the sutures with a sort of morbid curiosity. She had seen stitches before, but having them in her own skin seemed strange.

Her examination of the sutures was almost amusing; she healed from everything else, so this must be a rare experience for her. Devin selected one of the clean bandages and began wrapping it around Valdis' arm - tight enough that it wouldn't fall off, but loose enough that it wouldn't constrict blood flow.

"You'll need to have these changed daily, if not twice," he instructed. "Keep it clean. The sutures can be removed in about a week, if you heal well." Devin was quiet for a moment or two more while he secured the bandage. "The ability is intriguing - I'll admit to wanting answers about what's happening to me," he said, gathering up the items that needed disposal. "And about the possibility of something unexpected and unwelcome occurring because of the planar shifts. I'm not convinced it's worth the risk, however. It's hard to weigh. Do you have ice?"

"Yes, Dr. Parker," she said in response to the instructions. He seemed amused by her curiosity over the wound, but lasting injuries were foreign to her. Valdis frowned when he implied interest in her perhaps using the ability to find more information about the aspect. The sudden burst of redirected curiosity didn't show in her eyes, but he would probably hear the brief increase in heart rate.

The opportunity did carry some risk, but based upon what she had observed so far, she didn't think that she herself would be at risk by trying. However, it was a piece of an angel and if it did object to her, then they might have a problem.

"If you're willing, I can try." She said, "Personally, I'd prefer to know more about what it is we might possibly face before it emerges as a problem." She tipped her head, "I might have some, or at least access to some. The KPD has a fridge."

Devin carried the used items to the trash bin, his mouth a thin, pensive line. He would have to give her fair warning, if he let her walk around near his soul. Doing so would put her in danger, even if everything went as well as it could.

She had most of the pieces already, anyway. Perhaps if he gave her another nudge, she'd figure it out for herself. "You already have an idea of what we might face if you put what I've told you together. He's only a fragment, but he's still an angel; and of all the insanity we have in this place, it's the Death plane that's triggering him," he laid out, leaning his hands on the counter. It wasn't the most difficult math.

Valdis said nothing, listening to the silence and the lack of a heartbeat that symbolized Devin's existence. She already knew there was more to the aspect than he wanted to say outright. Whether that was due to the agreement, or just the way he decided to communicate, she had no idea.

"I'm not afraid of angels, Devin," she replied finally, "Nor am I afraid of death. Putting the two together doesn't make any difference."

Or at least not enough of one to discourage her.

"Then you're either exceptionally foolish, or well past the point of caring," he sighed, keeping his back to her. Devin wasn't afraid of the aspect, exactly, but he didn't like not knowing what it was doing. He liked the idea of it taking control from him even less. All of the angels feared Abaddon, if not all of creation.

"I don't think he'll try to kill you," Devin continued. "Assuming he's just unsettled by what's happening and otherwise unaffected. The problem is that I don't know which it is." He pivoted, leaning against the counter. "But I suppose the danger is proportionally much greater to the world at large if I don't know what's going on."

"Perhaps a bit of both," she allowed, watching his back with one brow arched. "But you must remember, we are from different worlds, thus our experiences with angels are not the same."

It was the demons she feared, and even then, only one in particular. The Hounds were another matter entirely. She gently poked at the bandage, testing it absently.

"Based upon your earlier reaction to my father," Valdis replied, "and what I saw on the soul plane, I would agree with you. But despite appearances, if you need to know more, then I'd say its worth the risk."

On the one hand, Devin wanted answers - he always had, and they had never been given to him - and the possibility of getting some was very tempting. Averting a potential disaster was also a tick in the 'pros' column. On the other hand, treading where neither he nor Valdis were meant to be could be catastrophic.

And a very small part of him feared the answers he might get. Uncertainty was as much a freedom as a prison, when it came to Abaddon. Another sizzle of electricity crawled down Devin's spine; it was impossible to tell if that was approval or a warning, or just completely random. Which in itself proved the need to find out what the hell was going on, as wary as it made him.

"Alright," he exhaled. Being exceptionally careful went without saying. "How do we start?"

He was thinking deeply, torn, perhaps, between knowing and blissful ignorance. Valdis could sense emotions, not read minds, so she simply had to infer from what she felt and his silence. His answer almost surprised her, but his concerns over what could happen must outweigh his need for secrecy.

"It's not hard." Valdis stood, picked up a chair, and headed toward the living room, "I just need you to make yourself comfortable, I'll open a pathway onto the soul plane and see what I can find."

The potential to wreak utter havoc on this world trumped Devin's discomfort. He followed her to the living room, eyeing the couch like it had done him some great personal wrong before taking a seat.

If she'd brought an extra chair, she was probably expecting him to lay down, and after another moment he rearranged himself horizontally. At least he wouldn't fall over like this. "Don't piss him off," Devin requested with a sigh.

Valdis let him settle, then sat herself in the chair, reaching out with her uninjured arm to let her hand hover over his heart. After a moment's hesitation, she lowered it. The lack of warmth and a heartbeat made her wonder if this would even work, but she would at least make an attempt.

"Who? Me? Never," she teased, "Ok, I'm going now."

Valdis wondered if she should tell him about how to break the connection safely in case something went wrong, but decided against it. She didn't want him puling her out too early out of nerves. She took a deep breath, reaching for the magic that would place her on the Soul Plane. The world faded. Scents, sounds, feelings, all vanishing in favor of the light of spirits.

For a few seconds, Devin wondered if this simply wouldn't work. Then he couldn't see any longer, pupils dilating and breath slowing.

On the Soul Plane, there's nothing.

Well, not quite nothing. There was a presence in the vast darkness that Valdis would be able to sense. It was quiet, but the kind of quiet that heralded thunder, the calm before the storm. As though alerted to her presence, the shadows around her seemed to take a deep breath and the darkness erupted into black flames, cloaking a towering figure. Despite their color, the flames still threw off a blazing light. The figure was a contradiction of forms, it's face impossible to make out beneath a wheel of fire. Fangs extended from it's mouth in all directions; long, knife-like claws from it's hands. There was a heaviness of power in the air, and the undeniable awareness of being watched.

Where there should have been light, there was only darkness, but not empty. No. There was someone else here, if they chose to reveal themself. The next moment, something pulled back, and Valdis shielded her eyes against the strange light that roared into existence. Black flames, surrounding a monstrous figure with no real face. The amount of power radiating through the surroudning darkness almost felt like an oppressive wind, not seen, but definitely felt.

Without any physical sensation, Valdis couldn't tell if her heart was racing on the life plane, but she hadn't expected this from a piece of an angel hiding within a vampire. This power was beyond Raphael, probably beyond any she had met on her own world. She took a breath, trying to decide if what she felt was fear or admiration. She settled on admiration, and took a few steps, slowly, but without hesitation, in the aspect's direction.

"Machiavelli once said it was better to be feared than loved," she said as she approached, "Which do you prefer?"

As Valdis neared, there was the slightest of flickers in Abaddon's figure - recognition, though it would be hard to perceive it as such. At the very least, the aspect did not consider her a threat.

After a moment, the figure gave a rumbling, rasping noise that might have been laughter. That depends, little fledgling, on the person or creature in question.

Fledgling. Valdis supposed she shouldn't be surprised that an angel with such power would recognize her for what she had once been. She stopped, giving the aspect plenty of room, more out of respect than fear.

"A wise answer," she replied," But I'd expect that from one such as you. Tell me, is that your real face? Or just something you put on for visitors?"

Edited 2017-11-10 16:25 (UTC)

As if in answer, the shape of the figure's head shifted beneath the flames.

I have many faces. What is real and what is not is sometimes merely a matter of perception.

Valdis tipped her head to the side, watching the figure change shape. His answer wasn't particularly helpful, but divine beings rarely were.

"I see."

Perhaps it was time to get down to business.

"Devin has a few concerns over the affects of the Death Plane and how it is affecting you."

Maintaining an air of mystery was as much a performance as a survival technique.

Yes. I am dormant, not deaf, the being elaborated. A sound like the crashing of waves upon rock, and in the space to Valdis' left the shadows solidified into a barrier. Spots along it were obviously thin or cracked. As the Death Plane draws closer to the one you live on, the separation between us diminishes as well.

Valdis arched a brow, suddenly very glad that the Void was seemingly not as privy to her conversations as the death angel was to Devin's. She flinched at the sound, but turned to look at the barrier, evaluating its integrity. If the barrier between her soul and the Void was in such shape, then they would have major problems. Luckily it didn't seem as if the ancient angel was interested in breaking the barrier.

She crossed her arms, continuing to scrutinize the barrier, "What will happen if the barrier breaks?"

Nothing. Everything. Abaddon was probably not being unhelpful on purpose. It is a subtler thing that divides me from my host than what divides this living world from the Death Plane. Supple; more forgiving.

Black flames roved over the barrier, shoring up one section. It was more a representation than a literal depiction of what was happening.

If I were evoked, I would not bring unrestrained destruction.

"More forgiving..." Valdis repeated, turning her gaze to the death angel, looking at him through narrowed eyes as she began to recall Devin's vision.

"Two things," She continued, "Firstly, not bringing 'unrestrained destruction' is not the same as not bringing any at all." Any kind of destruction could be considered a problem. In addition, the Void had been interested for a reason beyond what it had said, but it seemed that she had missed the main point of the vision, until now. "And secondly, what happens to Devin should you be evoked?"

Some things must be destroyed to preserve balance, was all the angel had to say about her first remark. It considered in silence whether to answer her second, black flames swirling and dancing in the darkness.

He will live, and he will change.

"And who decides which things must be destroyed?" she asked, her tone calm, "Who is playing judge and jury? You?"

The executioner part was rather plain, but this death angel was treading into territory Valdis disliked.

"Does Devin have a choice in this?"

The implication was 'no', but she felt she should ask instead of assuming.

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