The Venture: Abandoned

The new duo ventured about Tilandre, Vriskol finally taking up the lead in his constant search for a doctor. In time, Vriskol's search came to Tilandre's southmost cliffside. The roaring seas left a salty mist to shroud the airs, growing with mild intensity as he further encroached with a sense of failure.

He sighed, turning over for Azami with irritation, snapping with the festered pool of reserved anger.
"You damn usele-" He gave halt, only to find himself alone...
All of this time he spent searching, and he thought that this good Samaritan would actually bring him aid.

A twitch from his brow, left him with a sickening shudder down his spine.
"... Sh-... She left..." He spoke quietly to himself, "She just... Left me..."
There wasn't any word that could truely come to describe what went through his mind. Unadulterated fury left him quaking in place.
Turning for the cliffside once more, lavender pupils locked unto another-

They weren't Azami, but they were indeed the first person he saw in his current stature. He needed a vent, and whom better to unleash his wrath than the unfortunate magi in front of him. He started his approach, as though he was one of familiarity. It was random, yet as hostile as an encounter with any aggressive rival.
He couldn't find words to say for the man in particular, and thus, the only warning of his arrival was his footsteps closing in.

A glimpse at him would reveal a right arm slung in a cast of wrapping bandages, and a left arm simply bandaged at the shoulder region. The patches appeared to be the result of a dramatic failure on his part, and from the looks of it, he couldn't wage a physical threat with his injuries...
The crunch of pebbles and sand grinding against his boots grew louder with every step, and in-time he'd be behind Whisper. Mindless Wrath, was his only drive...
(Vriskol Malpercius)
After his bit with the Queen and joining the Saffron, Whisper had found himself wandering around aimlessly as the voice in his head came back. This time the words were much more coherent, and he was somewhat able to hold a conversation with it. For the most part it was simple questions, such as who the voice was, how it got there, why it was there in the first place.

Someone on the outside would likely call it post stress from the war, however to Whisper the voice was an actual part of him. He didn't hear Vriskol approach him, or even speak, the conversation with said voice was taking most of his focuse. Little to anyone else's knowledge was a field of negative gravity. It was so low to the point that someone of a greater power in magical arts would be able to sence. When the other male walked close enough to him, he felt the slightest shift in the gravity around him which alerted his concious to the oncomming person or thing.

Turning around slightly he cast his light blue eye's upon the male dressed in white. The first few features he took note of were the purple hair, and the eye's to match. He looked around the same age as himself, which didn't really surprise him all that much. What caught the greater amount of his attention was the wounded arm. It appeared the teen had endured a beating of some kind, or perhaps it was a magical experiment gone wrong.

" Excuse me, do you need something? "

Reguardless of being on active guard duty just yet, Whisper was still a Saffron. His duty was to protect and serve, help where and when it was needed.
(Whisper)
The whispers in his head were acting out again. The Malpercian curse left him to quiver at it's mercy, and thus, without granting the chance for Whisper to finish his sentence, the right arm dropped!
The cast popped off... Poorly designed? . . . It seemed so.

It didn't matter now, what did, was the fact that the heavily bandaged right arm was extending for Whisper's face.
The fingers that protruded from the bandages, attempted to curl around the facial region despite the potential chance of failure.

"No." He replied sternly, allowing his hair to flutter on over his right eye with the preformed lunge in question.
(Vriskol Malpercius)
Whisper wasn't sure exactly what the other teen was doing. It appeared the wounded arm was just a ruse, trying to lure him in or so it seemed. When the person went for his face Whisper reached up and grasped one of the hands, pulling it away from his head. He reared his head back slightly in attempts to not being touched by the other, not thinking of using both of his hands.

As he did, the Saffron squinted his eye's and thought for a moment.

' Is he seriously trying to attack me this close to the castle? Does he not understand that the guards here would stop him? '

Curiosity peeked in his mind as the thoughts raced on and on. Eventually Whisper took a step back and pushed forward a bit, releasing the hand which he grabbed. Just as the slight distance was created he cast his light blue hue's to the white cloaked teen and continued to speak.

" I do hope you are not trying to attack me. I also hope you realize where we stand. "

It wasn't neccissarilly a warning more so than it was a friendly reminder. Whisper did not want to start off with a bad reputation in his new home town. He had just joined the local guard and wanted the people to respect him, not resent him for being some ass hole, or being the guy that's too hasty.
(Whisper)
Vriskol's attempt had failed, for this individual turned out to be a magi. However, in the midst of his anger, he felt compelled to commit to a vent of some sort. Any sort, would suffice- At this point, he found himself with some difficulty. He didn't want to take in the fact, but it was true enough. He knew all-too-well of the castle nearby. If he was successful in his strike, he'd have to worry about the many others that would follow.

An escape from them would prove incredibly difficult, when the sheer quantity of soldiers was taken into account. He winced at the grabbed arm, for it was truely damaged. A hiss through his lips signified this, and as he was released, the casted arm was hugged by the other, eyes unwaivering from Whisper as though to debate another go.

He idled without words, dangerously close to making another lunge. As of now, it was unclear- Was he thinking clearly? What was he doing?
...And why?

If the answer was anger, wrath, then it's control over him proved to be near-absolute.
(Vriskol Malpercius)
Whisper kept his calm demeanor not wanting to cause a scene on his first day of being a guard. Squinting his eye's a few times the male began to levitate upwards, the gravity around him shifting and parting so that he was now flying. He wouldn't waste any time in creating a fair distance between himself and the teen claude in white.

Hopefully it would end at that, and there would be no other occurance. As he went on he flew towards the Castle in at a fair speed, likely to land just near the entrance to likely go inside and head for the barracks.
(Whisper)
The reflection of the flying magi took up the lavender pupils that followed it's original image. Vriskol failed in landing his attack, for the apparent gravity magi had an easy aerial advantage.
As though a sworn enemy from year's past, his head turned to follow the boy.
"...Next time.
He muttered under his breath, sidestepping midways into a pivot northbound.

The anger and rage, alongside the voices in his head came to a halt. No longer was he taunted, for all potential prey had managed to take up their safe zones and refuges.

The Malpercian curse never faltered, demanding another in Whisper's place, and thus, the hunt began once again. However, caution was put in his departure, careful not to take his sights on any that could bring him more than he'd come to expect.

"Next time, for sure..." He repeated, leaving for a nearby crowd; A predator amongst men, women, and magi alike... His intention, his purpose... Unknown.
(Vriskol Malpercius)