knightsoflegend | prologue ♔ everybody says it's gonna get better

Entry tags:

prologue ♔ everybody says it's gonna get better

♬ Bad Bad World - Charlotte Sometimes

WHO || Christos La Krail, Katniss Everdeen [Closed]
WHAT || Christos tracks down a potentially dangerous Shadow Worlder who's firing arrows at people in the city. 8| Weird.
WHERE || Downtown London
WHEN || Sunday night
HOW || Actionspam

[There are plenty of Shadow Worlders who show up in this world, and don't handle it well. But most of them get talked down quickly enough, so it rarely ends up making the news anymore. This girl was an exception. Showing up in downtown London, she'd reportedly snapped and attacked the man who'd found her, causing him to contact the police force. They had, however, been unable to find her, until a couple hours later that evening when she had shown up on a rooftop around Trafalgar Square wearing a seemingly hand fashioned bow on her back, knocking an arrow at anyone who came too close.

Christos agreed to go deal with this alone, seeing as how it would be easier to get the girl out of the public eye to speak with her first - and staying out of sight was a specialty of his.

By the time he arrives on the scene, however, there's a huge crowd gathered in the Square despite police blockades trying to hold them back, and cars are buzzing back and forth as officers shout through megaphones.

Christos observes from a distance, blended into shadows with his dark black cloak pulled tightly over his features, and picks up the facts readily enough: they must have apprehended the girl here, only to have her escape again. And from the circus of activity, he was guessing it had only just occurred.

His eyes shoot to the rooftops. It's obvious that the girl values the high road and he has a feeling that's where she'll wind up again.

He wastes no time in moving back down into the alley, slipping unseen behind a dumpster to vault off the wall and grab the bottom of a fire escape, yanking himself up and climbing it with ease to reach the rooftop.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Inside, away from the police. She can get behind ideas like that. But still, she remains tense and doesn't look very convinced at what he's saying.]

I don't know that I can trust you.

[It seems as if she's going to flat out refuse to go with him, and a sense of pride crosses her face along with that lack of trust. She still wants to believe that she can figure this out on her own.]

You haven't said anything to convince me that you're telling the truth.

Of course I haven't. There's very little I could say in these circumstances that would be entirely reassuring. [He makes it sound obvious, as if he were impatiently explaining to a child the logical fallacies in the Tooth Fairy]

You're in a strange world, surrounded by strange terrain, uncertain of how you arrived here, for what purpose, or who might be behind it. I understand the sense of self preservation that arises. But you will find the authorities of this world are not nearly so entirely incompetent as they tend to appear. If you run now, you won't be given a chance to stop. Come with me, and you may find some solid ground to stand upon, if at least momentarily.

[His tone is flippant, as if he doesn't much care what she decides, one way or another] And don't try to tell me you're afraid to come along. You've already demonstrated your remarkable ability to burst my cranium like an overripe melon if it pleased you.

Edited 2012-02-08 07:05 (UTC)

I'm not afraid.

[These words are seethed out in a fury that sneaks up and attacks her as soon as the words are out of his mouth. She knows that no matter how terrible a situation is, she's a person that doesn't easily give in to fear. So she feels insulted, and has to stand there glaring and expressing that insult.

Eventually she sucks it up, and with cold indifference she makes the small leap to cross the building she's on and land over on his. Lucky for her, the buildings here are on top of one another.]

You have one hour.

[Yeah, she's headed over toward the ladder he came up on now. He better be following.]

[He's impressed by the jump, but it doesn't show on his face. He simply turns to follow her, grateful that she doesn't seem to have noticed his unusual features yet beneath the hood of his cloak. It's a hard dark elf life. :(

Once he gets partway down the ladder, he hops off, landing quietly on the ground below, and begins walking to the mouth of the alleyway, pressing himself against the side to glance out and ducking his head back in.]

Other way.

[She doesn't want to follow the direction he thinks they should go in, just based on her own stubborn nature to be defiant and lead. But he knows this area, she doesn't, so she curtly nods and reluctantly follows.

She keeps close to the buildings and the shadows they provide.]

If we take a left and continue along the alley for a few more blocks, we should be able to slip away unnoticed.

[Or reasonably so, anyway. It's near impossible to hide her bow, but like hell is she going on without it. It's a security blanket to her right now.]

Of course. Because if I were looking for a runaway roof hopper, I'd certainly avoid the alleys and look on all the main thoroughfares. [Oh, that was sarcasm. :| ]

I have a better idea. [He slips a sudden left between two buildings, seemingly entirely at ease with knowing where to go. The turn takes them out from between two buildings, but onto a cobbled side street that curves quite a bit, not allowing many people to see very far along it. The buildings here are crunched together, with hardly any breathing room between them. He heads straight for what appears to be a stone bridge that arches over the street at one end, moving underneath it. His boots leave impressions in the snow, and he alternates between being rendered invisible by the shadows and seeming to stand out strongly against the white snow piled in places.]

[She shoots him a scathing look at his sarcasm, and actually turns to head in the opposite direction he is. She doesn't have to accept his help, especially not when he talks to her like that. She had gotten around in the alleyways just fine, and -

Oh. He's really far ahead now.

She hurries to catch up, huffing softly in annoyance. She stays a good enough distance behind him to watch his movements and his behavior, and to see where he's headed, before she slinks along after him.

She glances down at a line of his footprints as she crosses over them, and as a cold gust passes over her and chills her to the bone, she slides a foot along them and destroys the fact they were ever there in the first place. This isn't to cover their tracks, it's entirely a childish outburst of annoyance.]

You don't do as good of a job at blending in as you'd like to think. You're not like anyone else here I've seen. You entirely stand out, even with your hood on.

[She informs him in a hissed whisper as she steps up behind him, right on his heels. Her tone clearly says this means he shouldn't be a condescending dick to her ever again.]

[oh my gawd bitch don't rag on his awesome cloak. 8| NOW HE IS GOING TO BE PMSin']

Whereas that bow of yours renders you practically invisible. [Yeah, two can play that game. Also, he is incapable of not being a condescending dick, oops.

He doesn't wait for a reply, just ducks beyond a wrought iron black gate into what is... a cemetery. Yep.]

[Cemeteries she can deal with. They're quiet and peaceful, and it means she can storm past him and go find a nice giant headstone to lean up against. Respect for the dead? She'd have that if she wasn't seething right now.

She quickly cools off and realizes that isn't the right thing to do, and stands upright, crossing her arms over her chest. She watches him, to see if he plans on stopping or continuing along.]

How much further?

Did you have somewhere you needed to be? [He heads towards what looks like a family crypt, one of those big marble deals that you can walk into. However, it has a door that's been fastened with a large lock. He withdraws a key from his pocket and removes it, his hands moving quickly. And then pushes open the creaking door, gesturing into the tomb.]

There should be a torch within.

[And now they're traveling through a crypt. This seems entirely safe and not at all unusual to be walking alone with a strange man through.

At least if he tries to do anything to her, there will be a convenient place to store his body.

This thought reassures her as she ignores his question and steps past him inside. She's able to see enough to get her to the previously mentioned torch, which she fumbles around to properly grab and carry.]

You could explain more as we move. We don't have to worry about anyone hearing us here, unless you count the dead. [Her irritation with being led around with no trust toward the man and no further explanation than what he gave her earlier finally spilling over.]

[She might have more to be afraid of if he seemed to hold any real interest in her whatsoever. But when she irritably demands more out of him, he capitulates, never slowing as they move down into what appears to actually be a darkly lit tunnel]

The dead can say a great deal.

[It doesn't really seem to stop him though.]

As I said, I work for an organization that tends to do what it can for those who find themselves displaced from their world. The Knights of the Silver Dragon.

I know.

[And she doesn't know how she knows that, but deep down, she's well aware that she does. And it doesn't bother her as much as it should.]

Knights?

[She pauses, sweeping the torch so she can examine the wall. There's nothing there, but the further they venture into this dark tunnel, the more uneasy she becomes.]

Are you displaced from your world, then?

[What she DOES see, engraved on the wall in what looks like old chalk or paints, is the figure of a dragon curved in on itself.]

... I was. A very long time ago.

[And see that dragon she does, as she moves the torch a little closer to the wall. Her fingers reach up to trace at a part of the outline of the dragon, the childish gesture lasting only a few seconds before her attention snaps back over to him.]

How long ago, exactly?

[It seems for a second like he isn't going to answer, as if HOW DARE YOU ASK HIM PERSONAL QUESTIONS, but finally he says:] Over a hundred years now, I suppose.

Who are you?

[It's an innocent enough question, coming from her. To live that long and still look and sound so young, you can't be human. It's a simple fact. She's glad that she used who instead of what, though. A what seems to strip away any life from something at all, makes it seem meaningless and beneath her.]

[He turns to her, the light from the torch catching on all his elven features and his dark gray skin, white hair, and silver eyes, looking more than a little bit spooky.]

Christos La Krail.

Katniss Everdeen.

[She finds it odd how she can remember that so clearly, while so much else is muddled in fog. She's momentarily distracted by his general appearance, but doesn't comment on it, and instead just stands up taller. She reminds herself that he's supposedly trying to assist her.]

You're not human.

[Oh well. She tried being nice.]

No. I'm not. [He stares at her with his perfect line face for a moment.] You'll find that's a common enough dilemma in this world. I suppose you've never met a drow. Or an elf?

Not that I know of.

[And she's very sure she'd remember meeting something not human. She moves the torch so she can fully take in his appearance and studies him. She's seeking some detail that maybe she can connect to a memory where she had met a drow or an elf.

Nothing comes to mind.]

How many of you are there?

Knights? Hundreds. Drow? A little more difficult to say. Most of my kind tends to stay underground. [The way he says 'my kind' is very clinical, as if he has no connection to them, despite the phrasing]

Shadowkind in general... thousands, or more.

Shadowkind.

[It's not phrased as a question, but Christos should probably assume it's meant to be one.]

Are they responsible for why I'm here?

Technically speaking, you're one of them. Anyone who isn't from this world naturally is from the "Shadow" world.

And we've no idea what causes the breach. Only that there's no way to return.

[She gets a little weak in the knees at hearing that last part, and for a brief instant she looks like a scared kid.]

And if there's no idea how I got here, that means there's no theories on why I can't remember much of anything about where I'm from?

The most popular theory has to do with a sort of mystic river that strips memories away, and is somehow located between worlds.

Sounds like rubbish to me.

Entirely like rubbish.

[She agrees, chortling at the fact that people would actually believe something like that. She's too narrow minded to accept the fact that she somehow magically crossed over into this world and had her memories stripped, and compare that to the mystic river theory.]

Are all the answers your Knights can give me that unbelievable?

[He considers this] There are some who will couch it in "scientific" terms, confusing you with unnecessary explanations of "eldritch" energies, but it's the same answer, just different words.

I'm afraid in this realm, the unbelievable is quite ordinary.

I'll be sure to keep that in mind.

[She dryly retorts, attempting to hide her confusion and her fear at the fact so many things could be potentially unexplained.

She motions with the torch, signaling for him to continue moving forward.]

How much further do we have to go?

Not far. Our organization's headquarters is an hour outside of the city, but we keep another building inside its limits, in the heart of it for occasions such as this.

[She almost feels honored to be an "occasion such as this", and she actually smiles a slight bit before nodding and continuing along the way.

She'll walk the rest of the way in silence, pondering thoughts like a silent thinky person.]

[He's silent as well, and as promised, it's not much farther before he leads her up a ladder that opens into a basement. There's a keycard activated lock there, which he removes a card to scan, and then they're inside.

The building is brightly lit and friendly, the walls decorated with fancy artwork. A suit of armor stands in the main room as he leads her out there, and a nice piano decorates one corner of the room. A staircase leads upstairs, but he directs her to sit in one of two plush chairs there in front of the fireplace.]

[She looks at the art on the walls as they move through the building, and pays particular attention to the piano as she walks past it. When she's invited to sit down in one of the chairs, she stares at Christos for about thirty seconds before deciding to do what she wants, and makes her way over to sit at the piano instead.

She clumsily pokes at one of the keys, a high note that startles her and makes her eyes grow wide. She makes a face of distaste, and then plays a note that's in the middle of the piano. This one is a bit too high for her still, and so her attention shifts downward toward the left end. There she stabs at one of the keys, and the low, somber sound that rings in her ears is pleasing enough that she smiles and taps at it again.

Done after that, she stops and glances up at him.]

I don't think I've ever gotten to see something like this up close. It's beautiful.

[He watches her with a sudden sense of interest, more than he's really directly shown to her since they entered that tunnel. Something about her actions seems to render him thoughtful, and rather than sit himself, he moves to the opposite side of the piano bench slowly.]

It's a particularly well crafted instrument. It was commissioned by my organization's leader many years ago.

[And his fingers drift idly to the keys on his extreme end, three fingers pressing a high pitched but beautiful tone out of the instrument. His eyes rise to the ceiling, and his hand weaves out a vaguely haunting melody with a sudden dexterous surge of movement. It's clear even one-handed that he's quite good at this, but the sudden swell of sweet tones comes to an abrupt end as he draws his hand away and moves away again.]

We have a great deal of... resources, you might say.

[She listens to him play, and is disappointed when he stops. Reaching down, she pokes at one of the keys roughly, and stares up at him. She's just going to use this as a signal that he should continue to play.]

Resources don't matter, if you don't have the talent to use them.

[So freaking use your talents and play.]

That would be why we train those in our employ. Not to mention why we seek out those with promise in the first place. [The way he says the word makes it sound like another challenge, particularly with the way his gaze rivets to the place where she had so dissonantly plunked out a tone.

He lets that hang there for a moment, before nodding at her to move down and give him room to sit.]

[She has plenty of promise, Christos. You didn't get to see how good she was at almost shooting people on the rooftops earlier, okay. She stares over at him, annoyed, but still scoots down enough to give him room.

Actually, she just moves to stand up entirely, so he can have the entire bench.]

I hope you don't expect me to perform on command, to show you my promise.

[Now play piano on command, sir. Go on.]

What you choose to show or not show is your own prerogative. I said we'd offer you assistance - I wasn't talking about recruitment.

Unless you consider yourself in that category. [And now, just to let her mull that over for a moment, he'll launch into a piano number with an excessive amount of finesse. As in he got a ... 26, which is insanely high.]

♬ Exodus - Beethoven

[She's enchanted as he plays, and actually looks like the kid that she's supposed to be as her eyes flutter shut and she finds herself barely swaying in time to the music.

She does get lost in what he's playing, of course, but her mind never loses track of focusing on being alone here with a stranger, or the fact that he's explaining things to her.

If she wants to find out more, will she have to show her usefulness?

No.

He said they would offer her assistance. That will have to be enough for her, for now.]

I'll do whatever it takes to survive.

[Her words are so soft and are lilted out in almost the same tune as the song, she's not even sure she said them aloud.]

[Oh, how well he understands those words. His playing drifts off to a close as he gets lost in his own thoughts for a moment, looking decidedly grim. And then he looks over at her once more.]

Believe me, when I say there are far more unpleasant paths to survival in this world.

Edited 2012-03-08 21:58 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

prologue ♔ everybody says it's gonna get better

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

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