Chasing Twilight (IC)

[AmberVael]

Rain and lightning can be heard as a distant roar from the outside, but within the walls of the Black Cabal's underground lair, there is a small respite from the terror of the otherworldly elements. The cabal has offered shelter to those willing to take it, perhaps as a bid to take control over those who are now forced to live here, or perhaps because they feel that it is safer for all those surviving to band together, if only in a small way.

No matter your reason, or theirs, you now have a small place here now.

The lair is vast for such a swiftly constructed place- magic bored into the rock and bone that makes the surface of the world, tearing open a catacomb for the Cabal's purposes. Within are numerous chambers, many of them still unused, while others contain the last of Cabal's hastily moved secrets and stockpiles. Others, such as your own chambers, are dedicated to those taking shelter with the Cabal.

Currently, all of the 'refugees' are within the west branch, each of their rooms adjoined to a large, central meeting area. A hallway leads from here out towards the rest of the lair, and eventually out to the surface.

[Eurus]

Null busies himself, as usual, with wandering around performing whatever errands around the place weren't already being handled by thralls or undead minions. Many of the lair's occupants had their own habits and idiosyncrasies that grated on the rest - you don't throw together the last vestiges of the world's evil in one building and expect harmony - but Null had the unusual claim to fame of managing to alienate many through his bizarre dogged helpfulness. He acted as though everyone was supposed to be "on the same team," as it were, fighting for some great unified cause, possessed of a strange sort of patient optimism that grated on the nerves. It made some paranoid about his intentions, and just irritated others, while yet more simply assumed that he was someone's pet automaton.

Right now, he was attempting the likely-futile endeavor of preparing food that would suit all of the lair's residents (those who ate, at least). Zombies tended to make poor chefs, but then, so did beings without any sense of smell or taste. He did, however, have a knack for making use of the normally inedible. The result of his efforts was a large pot of bland gruel of uncertain origin which he ladled into bowls as the still metabolically inclined lined up, but it was at least filling.

[Cespenar]

The creature called "The Scholar" watches the rest of the refugees with mild interest, taking a few notes on the huge tome resting on his lap after gazing randomly at any creature wandering inside his rather wide line of sight. His current form is an unassuming middle-aged human with silvers in his receding hairline clad in formal, dark violet robes. A closer look on the attire reveals that it has been tattered in some places and stitched in others, despite having been made of a remarkably quality material.

His examinations draw up a lot of glares from the other residents of the lair, but either because of the gravity of the situation they are in or his otherwise non-threatening manners, rarely does someone elevate their reactions to a vocal level.

A bowl of gruel also stands beside him, and the Scholar occasionally takes a spoonful of it to chew on at a slow, careful rate, as if enjoying a steak at a fine inn in the better parts of a city. Precisely after swallowing each mouthful, he scribbles a couple more lines in his tome and changes the subject of his relentless examination.

[Eurus]

As he finishes serving the line in front of him, Null wanders off into the "dining chamber," leaving a dusty skeleton to continue serving anyone who arrives late. Having finished one task, he seems eager to find another to start on, but is having difficulty. Eventually, he ends up making it to the Scholar's table, where he politely addresses the man. "Is there anything you need help with, sir?"

[Cespenar]

The Scholar slowly leaves his current inquisition in order to give his attention to the warforged beside him. He looks at him from head to toe, either curious because of his rather well mannered behaviors or some obscure reasons of his own, blinks, and draws a small sign next to a paragraph on his current page. After a second, he smiles. The expression seems genuine.

"Actually, yes, you can," he says, and points with his quill at the bowl beside him. "What ingredients have you used for this gruel, exactly?" He looks ready to note it down.

[Eurus]

"Certainly. I found a member of our group here capable of producing fresh water, in which I boiled a number of the indigenous roots and lichens encroaching into the building's entrance that I found to be non-toxic, at least after cooking. For protein, I captured and added to this base a number of the vermin and rodents that were present in the Cabal's tower when the bulk of it was pulled through to this world, which seem to be thriving here. I estimate that our immediate surroundings contain enough of all of these ingredients to sustain several dozen vitals for multiple weeks, assuming the rate of casualties remains constant."

[Lix Lorn]

"I'm sick of hiding." grumbled Elissa in a corner. "It's... urgh. Giving up..."

The Lillend was curled up on her tail, her immense skeletal snake beside her.
"What's more, the food is dull, the accomadation leaves much to be desired... and most of the amusing inhabitants are lacking in the drive to fill time with me." she complained to herself, listing off a litany of complaints.

[Cardea]

One... two... three... smack, she counted off, running her fingers across her wall. She would slide her hand delicately over the rough material, until hitting it violently with a tendril on the fourth count. She'd been doing this for hours to pass the time. Indeed, it was much more entertaining than to deal with such low creatures. They had nothing of any interest nor could they provide adequate game for her to play. The tendril that was grown would slither back and meld with her once more, melding into a patch of skin on the flat of her back, letting the armor that fell into place back into its rightful position once more. One... two... three... smack.

The noise was quick and didn't echo very far. She counted by her steps, which made a faint 'click' as they connected with the ground. Her mind was growing restless. She needed something to play with. One... two... three... smack. Perhaps if she'd... why not. She turned around, and began to let her armored, clawed hand scrape against the wall, producing an irritating, almost bothersome, screech. And still she counted. One... two... three... smack.

What a world this turned out to be.

[Cespenar]

"Oh. I see," replies the Scholar after listening carefully to the explanation of the 'cook', and lowers his head on the tome, putting another small symbol on another (already existing) passage. Looking satisfied, he raises his head again, this time looking at Null under a new light.

"Now that that's over with, why do you do this? Preparing food for the (allegedly) most wicked souls in the world?"

His tone is interesting - instead of conveying real emotions like wonder, surprise; he sounds a little pretended, the words just a little more stressed, little things, but all in all giving the air of an... interviewer, instead of an actual curious person.

[Eurus]

Null seems surprised by the question, as if it should be obvious. "It is a task that needs to be done. We are all in this situation together, are we not? I see no reason to treat those here as anything other than allies."

Hearing the complaint from the corner in the relatively quiet room, the Inevitable pivots 180 degrees to face the lillend and tilts its head to one side. "I am sure that I can find some tasks for you to busy yourself with, if you like. There is always work to be done."

[Lix Lorn]

Elissa looked up suddenly, surprised that someone had paid attention. She smiled widely, looking back at him.
"Eh? Oh, it's fine. I'll work out something to do. I mean, it's pretty dull around here, maybe I can grow some plants or something..."

[Cespenar]

The Scholar nods and (unsurprisingly) lowers himself back on the tome. He adds a quick line between two paragraphs and taps the sheet hardly with the point of the quill as if to punctuate its end. With a sigh, his hands go around the spine of the hard metal cover of the tome and come with a pair of leather slings, like belonging to a backpack. He ties them behind his back and lets the open book rest against his belly as he finally gets up and starts to wander around the lair with slow steps.

[Lix Lorn]

Curiously, Elissa's eyes followed him.

[Cespenar]

The Scholar, noticing the look, stops dead in his tracks, turns and gazes questioningly at Elissa.

[Lix Lorn]

"Why do you have a book strapped to your chest?" she asked, staring directly into her eyes with her own golden, serpentine eyes.

[Cespenar]

"Why?" the Scholar echoes with a weird emphasis. He glances at the slings, taps the side of the tome's cover and returns his eyes to meet with Elissa's.

"I'd like not to stop writing while I'm mobile. If you have a more efficient way of doing that, please tell." You suspect that it might not be an attempt on sarcasm.

[Lix Lorn]

"Why do you need to write so much?" she asked.

[Cespenar]

"Because, sadly, my memory isn't infinite. But knowledge is." Incredulity starts to show itself in the Scholar's eyes.

[Lix Lorn]

She nodded.
"Ohhhh. You're one of those types." she nodded.

[Cespenar]

"It is possible to classify virtually anything. So, yes, I might be one of 'those types', according to the criteria you choose to classify me," he replies with a slight grin.

[Lix Lorn]

"Well, way I see it, there are three types of people." she said. "Smart types who go for knowledge-that's you, people who go for instinct or tradition or stuff, and people who rely on their own feelings. Like me."

[Cespenar]

"While there are some flaws with your generalization, I think you convey your point well enough," he says, shrugging. He keeps gazing at her for a few more seconds, and then throws a glance at the warforged cook. He seems vaguely puzzled for some reason, but keeps silent.

[Lix Lorn]

"Thanks." she smiled. "I just made it up. But... what now?" she asked, scowling again. "We can't just hide here forever."

[Cespenar]

"Yes, we can't," he nods, looking uncharacteristically shifty and paranoid for the fraction of a second. "They have... means to track us down."

He ponders on something for quite a few seconds, eyes turned glumly at his feet, before he returns to the conversation.

"Our choices are obvious. Fight or flight, just like an animal."

[Lix Lorn]

"Well, I'd rather fight." she stormed angrily.

I always use this colour. I will forget to use green, so I'll just switch now.

[AmberVael]

"You are not the only one who feels that way."
The voice replying to Elissa comes from a woman entering the common room. For a moment, it is difficult to recognize her, the memory of her nature slipping to the back of your mind, or perhaps not there at all- but in one moment more, her identity becomes apparent.

Padui Galle, successor to the command of the Black Cabal, after its dark leader perished in the opening of the rift to this world between worlds, driving his life into the catacombs that now protect them, and destroying all those who witnessed or learned of their flight. Strangely for such an organization, there was no competition or rivalry upon his death- Padui took over with a unanimous vote of confidence in her leadership.

It is easy to see why, however. The dark, half lidded eyes of the mystic can literally be felt peering into the souls- it was not a mere impression, but a working of some strange power, unavoidable and entirely unnerving. Though she has the appearance of a human woman, clad in white and black robes, holding a staff of bleached wood, the magic she emanates tells a different story, denoting something more than mortal.

"But why would you be willing to give over your life in a vain attempt? What can you do that all of our forces could not?"
For such words, there is little accusation or judgment in her voice. They are more weighing and testing, probing for a response.
She gestures to everyone gathered to respond, if they are willing to answer.

[Lix Lorn]

She started to reply, angrily, and then stopped, realizing she didn't have an answer.

[Cespenar]

The Scholar gazes expressionlessly into the eyes of the Cabal leader, unimpressed by her arrival.

"You obviously have a plan, though," he says. The tone is neither inquiring nor sarcastic, it is as if he fully believes that and sees this talk as unnecessary.

[Cardea]

One... two... three... wait, there's someone else. Collette thought, stopping her hand from slapping the wall just an inch away from it. Someone who had... mental weight. She walks down the corridor into the main chamber, and skirts around the room while this new woman, dressed in strange and slightly disturbing robes, felt... different than all the other monsters in this place. She listens as she talks, and when the... Snake Woman and Inevitable are done responding, she laughs; hard and loud and with her whole body.

[AmberVael]

"I have a plan."
The woman affirms, nodding to the scholar.
"But it is not to be taken lightly."
Her eyes flick over Collette for a moment, taking in her laughter calmly before regarding the scholar once more.

"It might succeed, but those who attempt it will risk everything for its success. No matter your skill or power, to attempt it will mean gambling on the smallest chance.
"A vain attempt is almost certainly what it will be- so I need to know, who would be willing to take up such a plan? Why would you devote yourself to it, and can you be trusted with it?"

"Perhaps it is not a matter of reason," says Padui, moving closer to the group, placing one hand on Elissa's shoulder without turning to look at her, in an almost idle manner- but Elissa might feel a strange reassurance from the gesture. "Perhaps not a matter of logic. But if you are willing to strongly devote yourself to this goal, I would like to know."

Turning her gaze to Collette, Padui Galle watches her quietly for a moment, then speaks.
"Perhaps you would like to explain yourself?"
It is almost a rebuke, but the tone of Padui is far too quiet and unusually soft or that to be the case... or so it seems. It is hard to get a read on the woman, and so her question might be unbalancing, in a way that could quiet Collette... or perhaps make her angry.

[Lix Lorn]

"I'd devote everything I could." said Elissa fervently, caught up in her words.

[Cespenar]

"But perhaps it is a matter of reason or logic. The only way of the weak to succeed against the strong is to risk it, and it is clear that if we won't stand up to them we will eventually be destroyed. The way I see it, it's not a matter of choice. So... I would 'devote' myself, yes, but I must hear of your plan first," declares the Scholar with a grim look in his eyes.

[Cardea]

"Haahaaa! Hahahaha." Collette finishes off, her left arm supporting her right as it holds up her by her temples. She shakes her head and looks up at the strange woman. "This is the start of your plan? A bunch of misfits of various stories in a cavern? And we have to take this seriously? Pfffahahahaha!" She skirts her way around the room, dragging her gauntlet against the stone wall. "This is funny to a level I haven't seen in a long, long time. So whats the plan, huh? Are we gonna play make-believe and pretend while making some sort of 'last stand" -to which Collette makes air quotes- "For those pansies up in the real world to battle to feel special inside?"