Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: The Monastery Courtyard

as written by glmstr

Camille reached into a pocket and produced a handkerchief, the white fabric becoming quickly stained red as he wipes the blood from his hands. He huffed and shoved the bloodied cloth into the pocket it came from, his hands mostly clean except for the small cuts which continued to ooze.

Once Izaic had finally left, he relaxed his shoulders slightly. "I guess this means trouncing him in the Auraella will be that much more devastating," He drew his parrying dagger and ran his finger along the edge to make sure he didn't need to re-sharpen it, then slipped it back into the sheath on his hip. He made a note to try to practice with others that used large weapons too, his two biggest challenges both wielded weapons that took advantage of great physical strength.
 
as written by Faithy

As he was walking towards the gates, he grabbed out his cell phone. At some point in time, probably when he was riding shotgun and hoping Pierette didn’t kill him, Jimmy ended up with her phone in his lap. Figuring he’d have to contact her in order to get the crew a ride home, he took note of her number and slapped it into his phone’s contacts under Psycho Driver. Clicking down to that name, he exhaled deeply and stopped walking for a minute.

“What good am I now? Can’t even compete.” His mood was almost as unsteady as he was the previous night.

Though Jimmy knew no other life than being here, the Rave last night showed him that there was more than just this. The question was, did he want to risk his chance at taking the silver for another rush of well, whatever it was he felt the prior night. As he made his decision, he could hear the bells chiming for class. Snorting, he stalked out of the gates, hitting the call button for Pierette’s cell. Now it was time to see if she answered the call.
 
as written by Krysis

Pierette did indeed answer the call, and since she didn't recognize the number, she assumed it was someone new in her life. However, she assumed the wrong one. Somewhere in Merveilleux, she snatched her phone off the porch railing in front of her and hissed into the mouthpiece, "Mother fucker, I am going to find you and rip your guts out through your ears, and then I am going to feed you to your own damn dogs, do you hear me?!"

"It's Legs, Pierette."

"What?! Whaaaa?! Oh shit, I'm sorry, Legs. I was expecting a call and-- What's up? Not getting good enough dope in the church? Those self-righteous assholes leaving you in pain or something?" Her tone went from furious to surprised, to playfully chuckling at the end there. Perilous recalled how she had kissed Jimmy's cheek the night before, and how he knew what she was like and still was giving her a call. Her night was suddenly looking up.
 
as written by Faithy

Granted, Jimmy wasn’t expecting a cheerful hello, but even he was a bit surprised at how the call was answered. Still, he wasn’t about to back out and debated on what to tell her or ask her, though it was clear that his nerve was waning. Moving away from the Monastery, the male paused a moment and tapped his chin before deciding to just delve into it. Her playful jabbing made him feel a little better than how he had been feeling earlier after his interaction with Izaic and though he knew he should go check on Inarin, Jim didn’t want the younger Proselyte to feel smothered. So, here he was, standing on the brink of the edge of something while wondering if he had the guts to jump.

“Pain or something, yeah, Pierette. Look, I uhh… I really liked the rush that came last night and although it didn’t exactly work out for me, I …” He paused and sighed, propping the phone against his shoulder so that he could run his good hand through his hair.

“I want more. I never knew life could be that exciting. I figured you’re the girl to help me out and maybe help me also find Arien?” He grabbed the phone, catching it before it hit the ground. Glancing behind him, he quickly moved away from the Monastery and dipped behind a bunch of bushes.
 
as written by Krysis

"Exciting. Yeah. That's a word for it." Pierette laughed, then put the phone away from her mouth as she took a swallow of her drink and stop the tickle in her throat from becoming a full blown coughing fit.

"I don't have anymore of that particular blend on hand, but I do have something else. You'll feel no pain. Probably feel invincible. Powerful. Unstoppable. Or we can just smoke some weed and chill." She admitted, giving a thoughtful and not very nice smile as she headed for her car. Sister Liz hadn't come back yet, and Perilous didn't have a key to her house anymore anyway, so there was no point in hanging out on the porch anymore.

"Arien was the boy with the auburn hair, right? I have no idea where to start looking for him-- Probably could find those twins though. They were quite tasty." She gave a nasty little laugh at that, sure she knew what Jimmy would think about adding more males to the mix without any girls to balance it out. Not that the twins would hang out with someone like Her, of course, even if given the opportunity.
 
as written by Faithy

Jimmy remained sitting in the bushes until he was sure that no one had trailed out after him. Once sure it was clear, the male slid up to his feet and headed away from what had been his home for so long. He would return later and make up an excuse or claim he had gone to his room to sleep due to his injury. First he wanted to get with Pierette and then find Arien, though he wasn’t quite sure why this sudden need had arose. Stalking down the street, he returned his attention towards the conversation at hand.

“Hmm, I’d be okay with doing either or … or maybe both. I’d like to find the twins first and try to find Arien or at least see if they’d send him my way… give them my number or something? But, I’d also like to hang out with you too. I don’t really remember what happened last night after I took the pill, but I figured I had a lot of time. Well, aside from the elbow and ribs being broken. Anyways, what do you say?” Jimmy realized that she was insinuating something about having the twins join them in something he was certain was more sexual than he would like. Well, maybe if they could get more chicks or something… an orgy wouldn’t be too bad, right? Right.
 
as written by Krysis

"I'll pick you up outside of the Monastery..." Pierette would make plans for finding Jimmy, though why he would want to ride with her again was anyone's guess.

Next stop would be Académie Delacroix, which was where she expected to find the twins. Though how a junkie chick and an injured proselyte were going to actually get past the gates was something that was up for discussion or debate.
 
as written by Faithy

“Great, sounds good.” Closing the phone, he ended up standing around, hoping that no one spotted him while he was waiting for Pierette. Honestly, the idea of getting back in a car with her wasn’t all that appealing, but if the end result was what he was hoping for, then it would be worth it. Sliding the phone into his pocket, he ran his fingers through his hair, fixing it as much as he could. He was beginning to get excited for what might occur, though he made a mental note to speak with the others when he returned.

“Stupid Izaic… what a dickhole.” He muttered, shaking his head a little. No, he wasn’t going to let that tool ruin what could possibly be a fantastic night. This time he wouldn’t get anything broken. That was a huge mistake and though he couldn’t recall how it happened or who did it, the mere fact that he now couldn’t compete was probably what was spurring him into this life of insanity.
 
as written by Krysis

When Pierette stopped in front of Jimmy, she was on the phone again, her bright yellow cellphone crammed against her ear. Her hair was wet and plastered to her bony scalp as she yelled into the mouthpiece loudly enough that Jimmy could hear it through the closed doors. Well, a word or two here and there. Enough that he'd know that she had finally gotten the call she had been expecting earlier.

It was intense enough that she failed to unlock the doors until she was almost done. Angrily, she was agreeing to whoever she was talking to as she gestured impatiently for Jimmy to get in. "Fine. Fine. I'll be by later. Later, I said! I have stuff to do first. Damn it, you owe me, I owe you nothing."

With an impatient huff, Perilous hung up as she looked up at Jimmy, "Shove that seat all the way back if you want, Legs. No passengers in the back seat tonight. And it is a bit of a ride to Luskonios, so you might as well be as comfortable as you can be."
 
as written by Faithy

Jimmy had to give himself credit. He didn’t leap away from the curb when Pierette pulled up to where he was standing. Of course that didn’t mean it wasn’t a thought, because it was, most definitely. He reached for the door, trying to ignore what he could hear of the conversation, but it of course wasn’t unlocked. At any given moment someone could walk out from the Monastery and catch him, but thankfully nothing happened. Climbing in once he was able, he was glad that no one else was riding with them.

“Right, thanks again for this.” Jimmy slid back the seat and stretched out his long legs, his fingers on his good hand finding the same spot they had found the night before. He was now prepared as well as he could be for her driving. Maybe it would be better today. Yeah, and maybe elephants would turn into cats. Shaking off the thought, he smiled over at Pierette and gave a thumbs up.

“I’m good to go here.” He grinned and leaned back in the seat, ignoring everything at that moment.
 
Stepping out into the courtyard, OGUN glared at the beautiful scenery. There were students scattered and enjoying each other's company or working hard on assignments. OGUN's eyes flew to the corner he had met with Luna at every day the first month of their tutorship. On a day like today, she would have been out here already, reading and studying something or worse, finding someone who looked interesting to spar with. His hand on his stomach, he walked over to that corner and knelt down, closing his eyes.

"Will this place do to me what they did to you?" He immediately felt Luna's voice in his head, correcting him. 'I'm guilty. I killed someone. I am a killer, Hugo.' With an anxious sneer, OGUN rose and walked towards the front gate, pulling the cheap new phone he purchased weeks ago from his pocket and calling the number of the downtown taxi company. The person who picked up confirmed that the ride he called for earlier had left already and was most likely waiting for him. Without responding, OGUN ended the call and left the Academy grounds. Stepping into the taxi, he instructed the driver not to look at him and to get him to the Phantom Quarter. Silent, he passed extra money to the driver and looked out the window. "Be quick about it, thanks."

Within his mind, Hugo was certain that the driver would consider his youth and eventually refuse to drive into the district itself. Instead, he knew that the driver's priority was now for the child in the car and not for the uppity student making demands. Which was exactly the path he needed the driver to follow. OGUN settled his eyes and folded his arms, patiently waiting and watching as the driver struggled through the decision-making process that OGUN had set up for him.
 
Not long after the attack at Valentine, the surviving proselytes would be evacuated from the war zone. Some of them were ushered into the Monastery itself for medical attention, but many remained in the courtyard among their friends where they received screenings from clerics. The Monastery was still under lockdown. Armored paladins patrolled the walls. Apart from the Fabres (allowed into the grounds on Romstone's orders), no one was getting in or out without the approval of the council.

Inarin would just be finishing a check up with a young cleric. At her insistence, he would be made to sit down on one of the benches under a tree while she gave him medical attention.

"I'm shocked you're alright, proselyte," she shook her head. She hovered a scanner above his head - a crude contraption which checked for psionic influences in his brain. "From what I heard, you were in the thick of the fighting. You should thank Selene you weren't injured, let alone killed."

Basil ran up to him a moment later. The proselyte's uniform was slightly disarrayed, but he otherwise looked alright. "Inarin! Are you okay?" He looked the boy up and down as if he were seeing him for the first time. "I... I saw what happened at Valentine. I can't believe that you..." He shook his head, hardly able to rationalize what had happened. Word of Inarin's heroism had spread quickly among his peers. The proselyte who had fought a Caer - fought side-by-side with Master Dufort and a Warden...

Not far away, Izaic would also be getting medical. His injuries being far worse, it was unclear if he would be loaded into a gurney and taken into the Monaster central.
 
Last edited:
Inarin nodded mutely to the cleric as she checked him over for injuries. It all seemed like a blur, thinking back on it. From the moment the bombs had gone off till now. More clerics and paladins had arrived at Madison's makeshift clinic not long after they'd arrived there, and escorted them and the other injured further away from the fighting. He'd heard some of them talking about other explosions and fighting elsewhere in the city. How could this have happened? How could they have let it happen? Wasn't this what they were supposed to prevent..?

His thoughts were interrupted by Basil's approach, and he blinked, looking up at his roommate. "I... I'm alright," he nodded slowly. It was hard to believe it, but it was true. He'd survived, and so had most of his friends. His heart sunk a little at remembering what Aaro had said about Mia, but rationally, he knew that it could - should, even - have been a lot worse. So many had died. They were lucky that more of them hadn't.

How, though? He'd seen Al get... disembowelled by that monster. There was no way he'd been mistaken. He'd watched it happen. Did Arien have some sort of healing magic that he didn't know about? It would have to be powerful stuff to have been able to save him, more powerful than any he knew to be remotely common in Issunar. But then, Arien was from Terra...

He realised that he was staring blankly, and shook his head quickly, clearing his thoughts. "S-sorry, I... drifted. You're alright too?"

While he spoke, his eyes drifted briefly across to Izaic, keeping an eye on the older proselyte's condition and the reactions of the clerics around him to watch for any further developments.

Luca had been taken into the Monastery already. The slash on his chest had been salved, but was bad enough that the clerics had taken him through to get stitches on it. He'd seemed like he was alright as well, to Inarin's relief. He'd rushed to Inarin's aid after all, after he'd been foolish enough to charge the doppelganger on his own... his mind still reeled at the insanity of that, and yet he couldn't quite make himself regret it. He'd bought time for Izaic. If he hadn't, the vampire might have... it might have decided to finish the job. And he'd survived, so it was ... it was fine.

He somehow doubted that Leon would see it that way. Even if he hadn't seen, he was sure his brother would be told when he got back. When he did. The fighting had slowed down by the time Inarin had left, so Aurelion would be fine. He would. He could put faith enough in his brother to trust that he would survive this.
 
Izaic was having a rough time of it, but that didn't stop him from trying to push the Clerics away from him. His head still rang from the concussion that bordered on severe, and the broken and fractured ribs, he was pretty sure all of them, made each breath ragged, threatening to send a mixture of bile into his mouth. "I said get off of me!" The proselyte would roar, but even that came across as feeble, given his condition, completely lacking any of his normal bluster or rage. But the hatred was there, seething and bubbling just below the surface of his battered exterior. He raged at his own defeat. He raged at the fact he couldn't help his fellow brothers and sisters fight off the monsters at their literal doorstep. He raged that he'd let himself be convinced to come here instead of joining the fray. His own weakness. The fact that Kurtrin, the only thing close to a father he'd ever had, was out there, putting his life on the line against the same creatures that gave his hero nightmares every single day for the past fifty years. All of it. It tore at him, and festered like a sore on his heart, growing worse by the second.

With a surprising jolt of energy and power, he raised himself to a sitting position, shoving one of the Cleric's away from him, almost knocking them to the ground, but before he could rise, he felt his head swim with agony and nausea, the whole world spinning before his eyes.

His vision grew red, then black, then white, and finally, though not for the first time that day, Izaic vomited, spilling the contents of his stomach all over the shoes of those trying to help him. Mostly stomach acid at this point, with specks of crimson blood thrown in for a more colorful effect. The next thing he knew, he was being pushed back onto his makeshift gurney, though most of his fall came from his own inability to keep himself stable.
 
"I'm fine. Got jostled up in the crowds as everyone was running, but that's hardly worth complaining about," Basil replied.

The cleric finished her assessment. "You're good to go, proselyte. Stay in the grounds until the lockdown is lifted." She picked up her equipment and continued making her rounds.

"You and Luca, rushing into the arena to face that monster," Basil continued, "it was the bravest I've ever seen, In. I'd be shocked if you didn't take the silver for this."

The clerics, meanwhile, were restraining Izaic. His strength already depleted, it didn't take much for them to re-assert control as he vomited and collapsed into the gurney.

"Don't make us sedate you, proselyte," a burly cleric grumbled (fresh vomit on his shoes), "you should be lucky you're alive. That mithril coat saved your life." They would wheel him towards the Monastery, passing Inarin and Basil as they went.

Not far off, Aaro Caresin sat lone on a bench, back turned to the group. He was cradling Mia's sword.
 
"I'm glad," Inarin nodded with a wan smile at Basil's explanation, and murmured a quiet thanks to the cleric as she moved away. As the other proselyte went on to laud his bravery, he flushed slightly, shaking his head. "I... no, it wasn't... I didn't really think. I mostly just... I was probably mostly in the way."

He turned, then, hearing Izaic's feeble roar and frowning in concern as the older proselyte transitioned into vomiting. He got to his feet quickly, mumbling a hurried excuse to Basil and moving across to Izaic's side as he was being moved away. "H-hey, Izaic," he said quietly, falling into step beside the gurney with a hesitant glance at the cleric. "You should let them... you need proper medical attention, then you can... you can fight another time. It won't help to h-hurt yourself more now, okay?"

As he walked, Inarin cast a concerned glance across at Aaro, but for the time being stayed by Izaic.
 
Izaic spat a glob of blood soaked phlegm at the brutish medic. "You are welcome to try." There was a challenge to those words, an eager bitterness, a desire to show that even in this state, he was more than a match for any being who stepped across his path. It was a savage grin, teeth caked in red grin, but it was wavering, weak, especially around the eyes. A wavering, a lack of faith, in what no one watching could say, but Swigelf knew. Deep inside, he was breaking. It wasn't just the loss that had rattled him. It was the complete and utter helplessness that...creature had inflicted upon him. A vampire, a being he had trained his whole life to confront. He'd been useless before it, this unnamed trickster, this creature without a name.

His 'father' had fought, slain, an actual demon of Winter. Kurtrin, the Golden, the greatest man he'd even known, a titan among the Order, had managed to execute one of the Caerulleum. And here he was, done in and defeated by...Who? What? How could he ever face that ragged war hero ever again? His protege, the greatest soldier he'd ever trained, and he couldn't even handle one of them! For the first time, the proselyte felt doubt in his abilities. For the first time, he felt a true sense of fear over the wars to come. Nothing made sense to him.

So perhaps thats why, when Inarin approached him, that the older of the two Paladins to be had such a look of self contempt in his eyes, eyes stained with tears. "Nuvellon. Wick be praised. I thought for sure your puny ass would've perished. Glad to see all our training paid off, eh?" The sadness in his voice, the hopelessness where moments ago there had been nothing but fight and fury and spittle. "I'm glad you didn't though. Die that is. I hear others weren't so lucky. I hear a lot of things cooped up here. Tell me, did you see It? The Caer? Was there actually one of them on the festival grounds?"
 
Inarin forced a small smile for Izaic's benefit, nodding minutely. If he was honest, he was surprised that he'd escaped without worse injuries to show for it himself. He likely owed that one to the fact that it had been a five-on-one brawl. The vampire hadn't had much in the way of a chance to retaliate against them. Conventional wisdom dictated that was the most effective way to combat a vampire, they had the advantage of superior speed, but usually couldn't keep up with multiple attackers anywhere near that well. Inarin had a feeling that if there'd been any less of them, this one would have been able to do a lot more than keep up.

"I... there was." Inarin looked down, clenching his fist as he remembered the towering monster that had torn its way through the crowds, and what he'd seen it do to Jimmy and Al. "It was there. I think... I think they drove it off, though. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at what was happening, but it looked like it was gone."

When he'd seen it, he'd thought that standing against such a creature must surely be impossible. But they'd done it anyway. People had died, but... they'd fought it, and driven it away. It could be done. That was... good, right?

"I'm glad you're okay, too," he added after a moment, quietly. "When it... I thought you might have..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm just glad you're okay."
 
"He won't be if he doesn't get medical attention," one of the clerics retorted. They had paused the gurney for a moment in order to allow Inarin and Swigelf to speak, but their patience was thinning. "You can have your reunion later, proselytes. Izaic needs to be treated."

They wheeled him away towards the Monastery central where new ambulances were already arriving. Inarin might have caught a glimpse of Savien Durandet being unloaded from one of the cars, strapped to a gurney pushed by Madison, a Monastic cleric. Leandre, "The Fortress" was in a gurney close behind him, gravely wounded - though not quite as badly as Savien. Durandet looked on the verge of death, face ashen and bloodless, eyes clenched shut against the pain.

The roar of lions quivered across the cobblestone as six armored paladins on destriers emerged from the armory. Massive rifles were bolted to the side of their bikes, Rosaries strapped to their backs beneath ballistic capes fluttering crimson in the midday breeze. They checked their gear, their weapons, their expressions still as stone behind fiberglass visors - four men, two women, trained from youth to fight, to kill, to die in the name of their city and their faith. With a nod to the custodians, the gates opened and the squad thundered out of the Monastery towards the nearest pillar of smoke pluming somewhere in Saint Lemeux.

Aaro watched both parties - injured paladins and fresh combatants - before shrinking into himself and letting his head fall into one of his hands.
 
Madison was rushing the gurney carrying Savien quickly through the courtyard. Though she had remained miraculously unscathed throughout the ordeal in Valentine Park it was clear from her appearance and expression that she had been under great stress. She delivered all the proselytes and civilians she had treated in her make shift clinic to safety and just as she had been preparing to evacuate them, Crista Sorrel had brought Savien to her along with Leandre who were both in urgent need of treatment. Crista took care of the civilians and proselytes while Madison focused her attention on the battle beaten paladins. Now that she had them back at the monestary she could finally give them proper treatment.

"Don't worry, Sir Durandet. You are safe in my hands. Just stay awake, please."

She spoke to him desperately in an attempt to keep him conscious.

Crista, meanwhile was making sure that all the people that Madison had left in her charge were alright. Upon seeing the 6 paladins leaving the monastery in the direction towards Saint Lemeux she could only wonder what other parts of the city had been hit. She needed to know...
 
Last edited:
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top