pawnstorm | [Open] I see what's mine and take it

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[Open] I see what's mine and take it

Who: Caren and you!
When: After the Adra housewarming, throughout June
Where: Lasker, Halls of Glory, Caissa
What: Caren ranked up
Rating: None yet, but will be updated if it does!

A: Have a drink

If you don't mind I-

[She didn't get to finish her sentence. She had just wanted to get over to the merchants so she could tend the fires. Instead, her politeness was answered with water to the face. Now, she would have been fine if it was fresh water. She might have even been fine if it was just her first shot. But this was around her fifth, or twentieth, maybe even the hundredth time. And this water smelled funny.

...heck it might not have been that, but they were in her way and thought they could get away with it. She offered a grim little smile, baring her teeth.]

Oh. You wanted me to tag you back? All you had to do was ask.

[This citizen likely thought it was good fun to drench the tiny hero. Really, it was a good thing that she was a rook, otherwise she might have had bruises on her face from all the shots she had taken.

But with a flicked hand upwards, she summoned water from one of the geysers. It came around, hovering like a ball; then another flick of her wrist, and it started spinning, right over her hand. Her smile turned into a snarl.]

I suggest you run while you can.

B: Five mornings at Dunya's

[The costume was awful. There was really no two ways about it, it was awful. It was made for someone taller than Caren, that was for certain, and she had to go around like some sort of idiot, attracting attention. Well sure she could attract attention, but it wasn't...quite like this. Not in a suit that smelt funny, flopped around like the suit was possessed, and...really, she didn't have any ideas.

....was that a screaming fox? That might have been someone in a costume who was running around screaming. Sounded like they couldn't take it anymore. She understood the feeling.]

God help me with this. I don't know what to do.

[Because well, being violent, while fun, wasn't actually very productive. And it didn't earn her money, which could be important in the future. Particularly if she wanted to make sure that she had it when she needed it.]

C: Training with wires

[A rank up, and she had new weapons. It was...a funny set actually, and one that tickled her sense of humour a bit. Wires, razor sharp, that could extend far further then her shawl. She could conduct spells through these gloves, through the wires, she thought-it was perfect. But...like all things, there were problems getting from one point to another.

She brought her hand up. A single wire, thick as a man's index finger, rose from one of the steel rings at the end of her knuckles. She aimed it towards the practice dummy, her face grim with determination. Sweat trickled down one temple as it moved closer, closer....and flopped to the ground, so close but so far.

There was a wordless little growl, and she was able to retract it, rapid and frustrated, nearly hitting herself, or someone standing too close in the process.

Doesn't matter. She's going to try again.]

D: General training/studying

[It wasn't just the wires that Caren was studying. There were the general lessons that she was using with her shawl, trying to get a better feel for it; the spells, which she tried to manage and do very carefully. Sometimes she could be seen, with various weapons-mostly whips and shields-trying to go through drills. There was general practice with gymnastics, jogging, and other things too.

She also sought others out to practice, with one form of weapon or another. Maybe with a jerk of the chin, a narrowing of the eyes and a quiet, but confident, challenge.

Still others, she could be found in the library, taking in all sorts of books. Books on sound waves, on magic, on tactics and war. Though...she was more then likely to nod off in the library then anywhere else, mostly by accident.

Though heaven help you if you tried to take the book away. She was a surprisingly light sleeper when it came to taking things in her possession.]

E: Exploring Lasker

[It was surprisingly beautiful here. Then again...Caren always did like the fog. There was the whistle of the ocean. She didn't have to wear her hat here, and hide from the sun. That made things easier, after she did the jobs.

There was a lot to see. There were beautiful items of clothing to look at and try on; cafes where she could watch people, and drink a cup of coffee. (She didn't know what to think of the themed ones though. Most of those got a weird look before she moved on.) The food was interesting, and she resolved to pack some with her for the ride back to Caissa. She was heavily amused though at the churches. The haven for the god of friendship...

what a crock. At least the other parts of the city were far more honest, even if a little obsessed with a weird card game.]

F:Wildcard
Hit me up with something else, I'm up for it!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A fugitive from the church...she could understand that. But the look on his face when she said that word. Exorcist. He looked both painfully scared and hopeful at the same time. It was a beautiful expression on his face. She liked it.

She liked it a lot. But she kept her expression mild, even as she folded her hands in front of her. Clearly in charge of herself, and clearly with better manners, now that the sleep has worn off.]

Yes.

But I fear it is far less impressive as it may sound. We may use the same word, but to you...it may mean something else entirely.

[ ... it may. In fact, it probably does.

But that still makes Allen smile. Softly and in a way that's somewhat hard to place. ]

Perhaps.

Back home.. [ His gaze is far-off. Like a fond, bittersweet nostalgia. ]

..back home there's a war. Where people who have died... the other side twists them into becoming weapons. By tricking someone living who loved them into calling them back to life.

But they aren't the same. Their soul is trapped inside a weapon where it becomes corrupted. Where it grieves because it hates what it's become and what it's made to do. Killing indiscriminately and becoming more pained the more it kills.

The more it's made to kill the people it loved especially. [ It kills them first and takes their skin, living on inside their corpse. ]

...It's ugly. A living weapon that's nothing but a neverending cycle of suffering.

An akuma.

[ His gaze flicks back up to Caren, smiling gently in a way that's quite certain about himself.

Even still, after everything else that's happened. ]

But that's why Exorcists exist.

We fight to destroy those creatures so we might put their souls to rest, and only the thing that lets us fight can do that. [ If she knows what that is, then she's like him. If she isn't...

They're different sides of a very interesting coin and somehow something he still finds incredibly... reassuring, somehow. ]

Edited (I hate phone tagging) 2016-06-09 00:09 (UTC)

[Ah. That's a smile that feels...so familiar. She interlaces her fingers together, and listens quietly. That sounds like a horrible fate. First by the living, whose longing is twisted such a way; second by the dead who can not life and can only suffer.

A corrupted weapon...idly, she wonders if such a thing would be possible in her world. Possibly. It is possible to create a container, but to trap a soul into it, something that was once dead...it might be one of the miracles currently impossible. ]

I could think of some possible magicks for this. But this would not apply in my world. We have demons, yes, but they were never human. Or if they were, it was long ago.

[Her eyes are steady on him as she continues to speak in a low, soft voice.]

Weapons to help guide us yes, magic of course. But then you have someone such as myself, who was born a little differently then the rest.

[Her hand goes to a strip of hair, the curl flowing through her fingertips before...her hand drops, and comes back down onto the tables surface.]

I have no power granted by god to destroy. Only to detect. For my body would mimic the demon, even if they hid in human skin. I've nearly died not a few times due to this.

[ "Born a little different from the rest"—his attention snaps a little more strongly to that than anything else.

She isn't like him then, it's not his world or his church. But that's actually.. good. Relieving. But the other thing she said— ]

'Mimic the demon'? [ Curious, but slight awe. Because she said detect. Detect even if they hid in human skin and there's an urge to fall over himself somewhat and blurt questions because that's the thing that...

Well. It's the thing that no one else but him could do and set him apart even among those he was closest with. But he doesn't; just clenches his hands a little more tightly where they rest over his knees. ]

Edited 2016-06-09 01:18 (UTC)

Yes. My body will start to shift and change, until it looks like the demon itself, outside of the body it has possessed.

[There's a difference in worlds, and she says it so calmly, that one could take it for acceptance. And it is. In its own way.]

I will spare you the details. Suffice to say, my body was a great deal more...delicate, before my arrival. It was not an odd sight to see me with bruises. Bandages.

I likely would have died before I turned thirty.

[Her eyelids are heavy as she looks at him. Almost tranquil.]

The church uses its people hard, do they not? Exorcist.

[ "It's why I went my own way" is what he wants to say. An independent Exorcist trying to end the war without choosing either side, or at least not causing further suffering in the name of either side. But Allen smiles lightly at that. It's sympathetic, yes, but...

Not pity or something born of horror. He's seen that. He's seen Alma. And the Third Exorcists. Those once scorned he would have liked to know and called "friend" before it was too late. ] I know.

[ And regardless of that, a parasitic-type Exorcist like him won't live past thirty either given how young he was when the Innocence awakened in him in all likelihood, everything else notwithstanding. It's just something you accept and don't talk about. ]

I'm sorry. [ He says it gently though. More like acknowledging it as what it is, not something to feel sorry for a person about... Or—

—no. Not something to look differently at them for. ]

It's not quite like that, my eye. [ And he smiles, tapping the left (scarred) side of his face. ]

Or at least it's not quite so pronounced.

[A nuetral exorcist. She might have laughed if he mentioned it; his endeavour was sweet, if not entirely foolish. But his knowing was...that was an interesting thing to say.

The church did use its chosen hard. She was an unlikely one, and went through pain and suffering for others. And he...well. He had been suffering too, if not in the same way.]

At least I did some good before I died. That's something.

[And likely to be forgotten, unless it is to be held in documents, recorded and collecting dust until needed for a paper, a research case, a form of reference for someone else. She knew. But she had accepted it a long time ago.

But his eye had her interest, and she considered his face again. Her fingers twitched. She wanted to touch it again.]

I assume you don't mean it changes like my body does. But perhaps...it does something else, when you come into range of the akuma?

[Akuma isn't the turn she'd like to use. Not really. It made her think of someone else, and made her feel...strangely nostalgic.]

[ "At least I did some good before I died"... Ah, Sister Caren—

..that's something that makes him a little quiet for a moment, expression somewhat slack with a faint touch of awe, before he smiles faintly at her question and taps a finger against the side of his head, his smile somewhat lopsided and wry. ]

It's not really something I can see for myself—[ obviously ]—but...

Supposedly it looks more like an akuma's then. [ He's smiling lightly as he says it, like it's not such a big deal, but...

Allen's also very good at having that light, disarming sort of smile that makes it easy to overlook things. The sort that's good at covering up heavy things. ]

I'm not sure. To me... it depends. Sometimes I can feel it when it reacts like that, beyond just seeing the soul.

... so it's a little gross. Sometimes. Feeling like there's something else [ something foreign ] in my head then. [ And it can be incredibly painful when it's seeking. Though he never told the others that it would bother him sometimes. That would only make them worry, so he never talked about it. But Caren really doesn't seem like the sort of person telling that kind of thing to would cause distress.. to say the least. So he doesn't mind.

... and that's kind of refreshing. ]

But it's been with me so long it feels more like it's a part of me, so I don't mind. [ And his eyes flick back up to her then, smiling just the same, even if it's a little heavier.

And for that reason it's more genuine. This is something I'm okay with—and won't live without.

Because after all— ] It's what lets me see them. The souls that are behind the akuma. [ And he places emphasis on the souls behind them. The important part to Allen.

The souls normally never seen by anyone. And...

His eyes flick down again. Expression a soft sort of nostalgia. ]

It's like seeing something completely black and then in white at the same time.

Edited 2016-06-11 03:26 (UTC)

[Who knows what kind of good she'll be able to achieve later in life, really. Particularly here. It's not something that she is even certain she cares about, but it is...something that Allen might expect from her. From anyone, really, who is supposed to be 'good'.

But hearing what he had. An eye that looked like an akumas, disgusting and churning without his permission. A little beyond his control, for all he tried to hide it; it made him see past the ugliness and see suffering, the screams. And...there is a part of her that would have enjoyed that eye. Still does. It's a burden, and a true curse, like her own body was.]

I can understand that all too well. It hurts, doesn't it? The lack of control. Knowing why it is doing what it is.

[She watches him, her gaze intent.]

Someone might feel blinded by seeing black and white at the same time.

[ "It hurts, doesn't it."

Allen smiles lightly. It doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it is genuine nonetheless. ]

There are other things more painful.

I was cursed to see things like this for a reason. So even if it's something that hurts I can't mind it.

Because it's also how I can do some good in the world. By being true to that and doing what I can. [ Is it that different from what she said? The good he can do before he dies. Or in Allen's more immediate case... the good he can do before he—the man known as Allen Walker—fades away from existence.

So he also watches her back, mindful of how intent she is, and not blinking for a moment while he just smiles in return. ]

If I was selfish and turned away from that, I don't think I could live with myself—because I wouldn't be myself anymore. Because even if the burdens we bear are harsh ones, they're still what make us who we are.

Denying that would be denying everything up until this point.

[ He cocks his head then, smiling so brightly then. Like discovering something near and dear and good.

If she hadn't reacted the way she had earlier he might reach out and gently pat her hand or her shoulder. But he doesn't because that doesn't seem appropriate. ]

And wouldn't that be like denying who we are then?

[What a smile on his lips. His words, the way he acts reminds her a little of Sion, and something clicks. That man never said thins like this. Not exactly, but it was close. The sincerity was almost suspect, and for all of the kings passions, he might be more hollow then she realized.

Like those Russian dolls, fitting one thing, then another and another. But she has no core. And Allen...she isn't so sure. There's something that shifts behind her golden eyes.

That is before they close, and she offers a soft 'hah'. It's good he didn't touch her. Mostly for his own safety. A rook could break a pawn in a moment of emotion. And her touching people outside of mana exchange and the effort to make them squirm was near non existent.]

I cannot forget my purpose. I cannot forget what I am, what gave me worth, before I was chosen as a hero. For good or for ill.

[She offers him a smile not unlike his own. Soft, quiet, and brutal.]

Be careful, Allen. There will be those who might want to make you forget. To make your their 'friend' and make you 'normal'.

[ Her words make him blink for a moment, expression clearing. To make him 'normal'? That's...

Caren, do you see having friends as something that threatens who you are? ]

[ When he smiles again at that—thinking he understands what she means—it's just as bright... but doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Something older and quieter there. Sad—but in a bittersweet way not from regret. ]

Even if my friends can't understand that part about me, they're still my friends. They're just as precious to me and part of the reason why I fight as the akuma are.

If only my eye defined me that would only be a part of who I am. The people close to me—

[ He cocks his head to the side again, smiling a little more gently. ]

—the people close to us we call our comrades help define us as well.

And it's alright if they don't fully understand. Or even if they hate the part that they don't. [ His eye—or her body. ]

[You might be surprised Allen. Caren is...not used to the overtures of friendship.

She's not used to being understood, even in part either. It's not a comfortable feeling.

Her eyes open again, to take in that old smile, full of regrets.]

I'm not sure there is a person or persons close to me. They may think they are but...I'm not so certain.

[She shrugs, a small, elegant motion.]

But I think I understand what you're trying to say.

[ She should prepare herself then because he's going to consider her a friend from now on. With that particular sort of sweet but stubborn insistence he can have.

But he doesn't seem discouraged by her response or finds it shocking. Understanding of that too, actually. At least in his own way, and he gives a small nod. ]

It took a long time for me to find somewhere I felt I could belong, too.

[ At least a little bit for a little while. ]

[She might get to the point of considering him an ally where she will enjoy pulling on his face and smacking him for being sweetly stubborn on his insisting they had the bond of friendship. Then again...it wouldn't be so hard. They were so similar in ways she had not realized possible.]

You're not going to suggest that it would happen here, of all places?

[She shifted her elbows onto the table, and raised her eyebrows.]

Or that you will achieve that again?

[ That's okay Caren. He's also used to people tugging on his face and chastising him for being him on a regular basis. They're generally the people closest to him.

It's something he misses, to be honest.

But he does look a little surprised when she brings that up. To find belonging, here...? It hadn't been... exactly what he meant... or had even been considering, but— ]

... belonging somewhere isn't just having a place you want to return to. It's having people you want to see again when you've been gone.

[ There's a lot... a lot Allen could say to elaborate on that. How complicated it is for him personally, how complicated it is between worlds. How complicated it is when you have a place you know you belong and want to return to—but can't and probably never can.

So he smiles gently at Caren for that question and doesn't seem bothered by it. Because of Gil. Makoto. Sion. ]

Especially because this place is foreign to us I don't see why it would be any different here than anywhere else.

[Too bad she doesn't have a sword to smack him with. That would have brought back memories, if bitter sweet.

But she had to bring up what could only be the most awkward idea, just to see what he would think of it. And he pulls this out of his hat. What an interesting little man.

They really were quite different.]

And it would people that would want to see you and say 'welcome back' when you come through the door.

[She shrugs, her gaze far more relaxed then it had been starting out. Maybe her sleepiness has caught up with her.]

I'm sure you'll find that quick enough. Quicker than I, certainly.

[ "Quicker than I, certainly"...

He crosses one knee over the other, lacing his fingers together over them and leaning forward a little to smile more brightly at that. More at ease and laid back, almost cheeky—but not quite.

Or like he's planning something. ]

Not necessarily.

[...she posed a challenge for him, didn't she. By accident even. She offered him a small scoff, and leaned forward, smiling back. It wasn't as pert as his, certainly not.

But it was a good thing they were in the library and not on the field.]

Oh?

[Her smile widened briefly. It felt fake and hurt her cheeks.]

I'm not trying to make a bet with you, Walker.

[ Caren. Caren no. Don't say the b-word. It's not that he's a gambling man—he just shamelessly cheats to win. Always. By making his own luck.

(There's a reason his weapon here resembles a playing card in its inactive state. A joker.)

But he raises his brows at that, expression wry. ]

I wasn't implying I thought you were.

[Whoops, she might have done that. Maybe, she did. Little bit. She has no idea what's in the cards for her or for him.]

Oh good. I'd hate to give you give you ideas.

[ Well she did give him an idea. Just not enough to engage his cardshark nature. Which she probably wouldn't want to, he gets pretty ruthlessly competitive then. And cheerful about it.

Then again maybe she would.......

But he just smiles in response for a moment, head canting to the side somewhat. ] ♥

[Open] I see what's mine and take it

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