Someone Else's Mercy.

[06:02] A shortcut through the mountains somehow led Lotlhuitl of the Cruxati close to the volcano's molten caldera.

Blue.

The woman wore a blue and white mask, carved into the shape of a stylised snarling feline. The glow from the volcano lit up the mask from below. Eerie. Harsh.

It was HOT inside the volcano. The ground crunched under foot, vapour rising from her clothing, her skin. She'd been snowed on, and the snow had first melted, and now was evaporating.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Her swaggered steps were heavy, and accompanied with a jostling, jingling sort of sound. Metal on metal. She wore a lot of jewellery. Jewellery which was getting hot.

And it was this heat which should have encouraged her on her way. But, silhouetted against the magma's glow, she saw a figure.

"Hey!" Lotlhuitl shouted out in greeting, taking a step towards the figure. "You know the way to Gaiar from here?"

Some strange sixth sense prickled and she hesitated, hand remaining outstretched -- she had lifted it in greeting.
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[06:13] The figure standing at the edge of the volcanic pit is heavily shrouded in thick layers of cloth that cover every inch of his being 'till they reach his foots. From Lotlhuitl's perspective, she might see that his head is tilted up at the moon above the bubbling magma and its noxious fumes.

A low hum, just barely audible below the sound of the volcanic gases, radiates out from the figure, muffled by overbearing sound and fabric. Were it not for those keen Nagual ears, it might not be heard at all.

As her voice flies through the air towards him, the figure remains motionless. The hum slowly tapers off to silence, and with the sound of metal clacking against something a little more hollow, he pivots a single leg to the left, before slowly, methodically, laboriously turning the whole of his body around.

It seems he might be a cripple of some sort - perhaps that clacking is the sound of a prosthetic...

His face remains shrouded, despite turning to face her, as he focuses his gaze on the ground just in front of her. The hood hides the vast majority of his face -

which is enough, for someone who can't see so well in the dark. For the Nagual, however...

Unless the glow of the volcanic pools illuminating Peacekeeper in a corona interferes with her racial ability to see in the dark?

All she can see is a skeletal jaw, and not so much as a hint of flesh. If the glow makes it difficult to see, however, he might seem remarkably pale under the hood.

A hollow voice, empty of emotion and intonation, rumbles out from the figure as he stands, motionlessly looking her direction.

"Hello, stranger. I have never visited the demon city - however, I am well aware of its location. I may be able to help."

Save for the sound, he's perfectly statuesque.
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[06:23] Lotlhuitl watched the figure turn, her eyes (the only part of her face visible!) narrowed in a squint as the stranger made his first impression on her. Not because the Nagual intended hostility or anything of the such, no.

Lotlhuitl squinted because the glow from the volcano did make looking at the unknown figure somewhat tricky -- the difference in light threatening to give Lotlhuitl a headache.

The figure was thin.

Voice emotionless. Male?

Spooky, Lotlhuitl decided.

Stranger, he addressed her. She tilted her head, shifting that hand which had been outstretched to help shield her eyes from the glow.

"I would be grateful for the assistance."

She stepped closer. Peacekeaper clacked while he moved, but she jingled. Rolled her hips with each step.

"My name is Lotlhuitl."

She gave a small half bow at that, having breached the distance between them. She had dipped, hair flowing over her shoulders, and when she raised.. she realised what he was.

A talking skeleton.

Instantly, the woman had jerked backwards. Every muscle in her body gained an intense sort of tension. The hair at her tail, the nape of her neck prickled and stood on end.
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[06:37] The figure remains deathly still as she responds, as she approaches. Not a hint of sound or movement dares escape from him save for the gradual lowering of his gaze, keeping it centered, it seems, upon her feet.

"My name is Peacekeeper."

A low, hollow declaration with a short rumble on either side of it. Before the declaration's conception, the rumble rises and melts into the voice. After its delivery, it slowly collapses into nothingness.

When she jerks back, though, an instantaneous increase of tension shoots through the entirety of his body. In a movement that seems like it should take a second, but instead skips half of that second, a gloved hand wraps around the hilt of his weapon and his feet move into a defensive stance.

The figure's gaze rises - slightly, slowly, gradually, and Lotlhuitl cansee the beginnings of a faint green flicker in the darkness of the hood. As it examines her form, the tension of his grip and stance slowly, slowly tapers off.

"My deepest apologies. You gave me a good spook, Lotlhuitl."

He butchers the pronunciation.
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[06:57] Lotlhuitl froze, surprise making her eyes widen. In fact, surprise lit up her entire face, but concealed behind the snarling cat mask, one couldn't have known.

Blink.

Peacekeeper.

What a strange name for an undead.

She remained still frozen as she realised that the undead's movement had been to go for his weapon - presumably a sword.

Frozen, with some intense tension in her limbs. Frozen, except for her oh-so-fluffy tail, which now flicked back and forth like a snake waiting to strike.

She was frightened.

Until.. he spoke again. His voice was weird, but his words were stranger still.

"I gave you a spook?" Lotlhuitl repeated. Twitch went her tail. The bangles adorning it caught the glow from the magma.

"You're.. you're a skeleton." The Nagual's words sounded weak. Her unease obvious. "An Azraelite?" She looked from side to side, fluffy tail still distinctly bristled - hair standing on end.

"What are you doing here?"
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[07:06] "Yes. You gave me a spook."

'You're.. you're a skeleton.'

When the jig is up, Peacekeeper raises his gaze to meet Lotlhuitl's. With his free hand, he pulls the hood back over his skull. What he reveals is a pristine white skull whose eye sockets house two flickering green orbs, something like magical flames.

His skull is attached to the rest of his body by his spine, the vertebra of which are connected by the same green energy which forms his eyes, though it seems to be distinctly fainter upon the spine. With the raising of the hood comes the hissing of green noxious vapors from the inside of his chest cavity, bringing with them the faint scent of acidic decay to the Nagual's nose, if it's particularly sensitive.

Though again, the volcano might have something to say about that.

His grip peels off of the hiltof the sword, before his hand mechanically shifts to rest at his side once more. The undead stares motionless at Lotlhuitl's features before vocalizing once more.

"And you are a Nagual. A Gehennan? What are you doing here?"

His jaw doesn't move as he speaks. The rumbling voice escapes from the chest cavity, seemingly without a source. His tone is unable to mock, unfortunately, and so the questions come across as quite dull...

"I do not worship Azrael, though I am quite spiritual. This place isn't quite my home, but ah... Few come here. It's safer.

Do you still need assistance, Lotlhuitl?"
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[07:17] A gasp rolled from trembling lips.

Muffled by the mask, the sound was all the Nagual seemed to offer for a good minute or so in response as Peacekeeper revealed his skull to her.

Lotlhuitl's own green eyes STARED out from the slanted eye slits of the snarling mask, meeting the green magical glow within the skeleton's eye sockets.

Lotlhuitl's senses were sharp, but truth be told, the woman was not particularly trying to smell anything at the moment. In fact, beneath the mask she had actually covered her mouth and nose with a wet cloth. The volcano was not a welcoming environment - it was filled with noxious gases.

Peacekeeper's odd manner of speaking gained a stunned stare. Whatever irony, whatever humour in pointing out her race and or nationality, it was lost on Lotlhuitl. What was she doing here? "I.. I am lost." She admitted.

While the Nagual had no keen desire to approach the undead, there was a certain curiousity evident in her gaze. "You worship the spirits?" She said, perhaps coming to a different understanding of 'spiritual' than Peacekeeper had intended.

Her tone was entirely dubious as she exhaled, "I.. I require directions to Gaiar Aetherius."
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[07:25] At the question of worshiping the spirits, Peacekeeper slowly turns his head side to side, though his eyes turn in their sockets to maintain fixation upon the Nagual's form.

"No - I meditate. I pray. To whatever power is listening. To the aether, and to the stars.

Sometimes to the Dreamer - but she is not my god. I simply... ask, and receive no answers."

After that last word, his head swings to the middle position once more, before dipping instantaneously down and up in a miniscule, impossibly quick nod.

"I can lead you through the caves, to the cusp of the demon lands - but beyond there, I will not go. Is that satisfactory for you, Lotlhuitl?"

Of course, the rest of his body remains... completely still. Uncomfortably so.
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[07:36] A hesitant nod. "Y-yes, I.. I would appreciate that." She had to get to where she was going.

"... why are you here?" The Nagual asked, her eyes still wide behind her mask. "I.. I mean, the necromancer. Are they around? Do they make you sit here, meditate and pray?"

Lotlhuitl swallowed, her gaze briefly looking to the glow of the bubbling magma below. She swiftly regret it, wincing as bright spots sparkled in front of her eyes.

"Were you thinking of destroying yourself, before I showed up?"

Incredibly awkwardly, the Nagual reached up and rubbed behind an ear.

"I could likely ease you into death, afterwards, if you wished it."
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[07:44] A rumbling something like a chortle - a few spikes of volume in-between valleys of silences.

"You misunderstand my existence, Lotlhuitl.

I am free-willed, unless the person who raised me gives me an order with the bond tied between our souls. And since the day that my body rose again, she has refused to give me a single one.

I am as free of will as you."

The next movement is what must be a shrug, as his shoulders rise and fall with a cacophonous orchestra of bone groaning and clacking and clanging as it knocks and grinds against metal.

"I enjoy my existence, although as I'm told - it lacks quite the depth that yours does, in so many physical ways.

... tonight, I was merely staring up at the moon. Isn't she beautiful?"

The undead's eyes flit upward along with an unnaturally fast jolt of his chin, towards the sky. He raises a gloved hand in a stilting, mechanical movement, before pointing a single finger straight at the moon.

"The first natural beauty I ever witnessed. Her light chilled the burning fires that raged beneath my bones.

While the living sleep, she and I stare into each other's eyes."

The symbolism regarding Ixchel being the moon is entirely lost upon him.

(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[08:24] Lotlhuitl had STARED, skin prickling at the nape of her neck as the skeleton made a strange sound at her. It took her a few moments before she realised it was laughing.

Lightly taken aback, the Nagual's ears had twitched and she had BLINKED, before beginning to listen to what Peacekeeper had to say. He reckoned he was as free willed as she was. Oh gosh. What a jolly great pair the two of them made.

"..haa ahaha.. ha ha.." Lotlhuitl laughed too, at that. Softly. Not unkindly, but also not without some degree of bitterness, perhaps? Though, she did stop as the undead creature spoke of his existence. Of enjoying it. She stopped when he pointed up at the moon.

The Nagual's gaze cast upwards, she seeming to copy the undead, minus the pointing.

A glimmer of corruption - a pale and green glow - flickered at Lotlhuitl's delicate fingertips as she seemed to consider the moon.

"Ixchel is beautiful." Lotlhuitl felt cold. Strange. She was conversing with the enemy. No, not just the enemy: A MONSTER. Her tail twitched. "And within her, chaos."

"You are mistaken, or you lie. You're not as free willed as me. None can command me, save myself, Peacekeeper."

Somehow, the woman didn't seem entirely convinced. After all, it was hard for her to dismiss out of hand that life itself wasn't already dictated by fate. The desire to avoid the fate which seemed to be hers, that was overwhelmingly what brought Lotlhuitl to indulge, herself, in her own corruption.

"The moon you see is the physical aspect of the spirit which calls for your destruction. For the destruction of the Oscuri. For the destruction of Valmasia and anyone who would seek to return the Betrayer to ravage this world."
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[08:34] Lotlhuitl's first words of reply to him would provoke a smile, if they could, but of course... they cannot. When she states - no, when she accuses him of being mistaken, his gaze slowly slides down to face her once more.

Silent, as she continues to speak folklore and legends the undead has heard of, but never read, never quite heard in person. His contact with Gehennans has been sorely scarce, though it's likely been quite healthily so.

"It is strange that her light, then, is so soothing to my eyes... but I suppose that must be a trick of the night."

Another little shrug - little, if not for the ruckus that follows it.

"I suppose the moon can add herself to the list of people who would rather slay her admirer than see his heart for what it is - no different than anyone else's core.

I will be certain to keep her at arm's length."

There's an ack-ack of his teeth quickly clacking together, in something like a sharp, BITING laugh.

"It makes little difference in the end."
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[08:50] The Nagual stared.

Her lips parted, a hand raised as if she was about to make a point. And then she just stopped. Staring at the skeleton as it spoke, just like a person with feelings or something, and gave a rather unnerving laugh.

Lotlhuitl shivered.

Perspiration was dotting the rich brown flesh which was visible.. trickling down her lovely long legs. She felt woozy. The vapours within the volcano were beginning to get to her, perhaps. But still, she refused to turn her back on this creature. Refused to move an inch. She was stubborn. She was proud. She was still Gehennan. Still a Nagual, called to fight in Ixchel's name. (And, well, technically Dmex. But Dmex had either died or had neglected to take her with her as promised when she'd left the mortal plane, so.. awkward.)

"Ixchel would desire you freed from Azrael's influence. Death, in the end, is freedom." Lotlhuitl was serious. Terse. Confused. What the fuck was she doing, speaking with this creature? The Nagual was growing increasingly concerned. Light headed.

Lotlhuitl winced, wiping her brow beneath her mask.

"It makes little difference?"

Perhaps the skeleton was just merely stalling, until an attacker would come. Lotlhuitl drew her metal staff, taking a defensive staff as her paranoia got the better of her.
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[09:07] Peacekeeper simply...

watches. Listens. A statue carved of robes and bones whose eyes lightly flicker in the darkness of the night, under the shining of the moon that reflects so brightly against his skull.

When Lotlhuitl's hands go to her staff, so too does one of his hands go to the hilt of his sword on his hip. The mythril crossguard shines in the light as he vocalizes an explanation completely divorced from any possible tension between the two.

"One day, I will perish.

I have crossed the threshold of death once. It was peaceful; cold and empty oblivion, in contrast to the fiery torment which claimed my life. The thought of crossing that threshold again...

it is not something I fear. I think that none should fear it, truly, though I understand the sentiment."

Peacekeeper's body abruptly turns in an unnaturally fast series of motions, each limb moving in its own span of instants as he uncannily shifts forty-five degrees to the right.

His gaze remains upon Lotlhuitl, however; his head does not swivel with the rest of his body.

"In death, I protect the living from the threshold they fear by warding off those who would push them to it. Many scorn me. Some even wish death upon me, for reasons I cannot fathom.

None of them have a reason to fear me - and the same goes for you, Lotlhuitl."

He instantaneously nods, before his head snaps to the right with a twitch.

One, two, three pairs of cacophonous steps of bones and metal slamming and grinding and rubbing against each other.

Without looking Lotlhuitl's way, he addresses her once more.

"If you would like to talk at length, perhaps we should seek shelter. I can feel the heat just the same as you can. Sweat pours from your skin.

If you'd prefer not to talk, I can simply lead you to wherever you need to be. Perhaps a long trek, but not a difficult one. In either case, this place cannot be healthy for you - I believe it's making you feverish."
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[09:39] Lotlhuitl's breathing had shallowed. Her limbs were crying out for clean air. and obviously so. She'd developed a tremble. Was visibly unsteady on her feet. But for whatever reason, lightheaded as she was becoming, the Nagual did not make haste to exit the volcano.

"I.. I.."

Lotlhuitl grit her teeth, tail flicking back and forth. She didn't understand the transaction which was taking place here. She was light headed. Her skin had taken on an ashen aspect, dripping with perspiration as it was. She. Felt. Sick. Lotlhuitl had to get out of here, out of the volcano. The fumes were getting to her!

Except.. to run? When that was what her foe wanted her to do?

"I fear nothing, Peacekeeper." Lotlhuitl's gaze was most serious. Though she found herself blinking away sweat. Unpleasant. "I am no coward."

The woman brought her staff in front of her, ears flicking backwards. She could hear her heart thudding in her ears. Her pulse surging.

"You.. you're either a prisoner, and you don't even know it. Or you're.. deceiving me." Lotlhuitl's voice sounded distinctly strained, even muffled by the mask as it was. Her grip on her staff shifted.

For the moment, the fact that she was LOST was forgotten to the Nagual. No, the light from the moon shone down. Reminded Lotlhuitl that her ancestors had sworn oaths. And that it was the mercy of Ixchel in the face of these oaths her forbears had sworn that meant she even existed.

The thoughts about whether or not free will was a thing, whether or not fate was predestined, these were issues that would have weighed heavily on Lotlhuitl's mind. But, well, she was rather light headed at the moment. And, to be honest, this particular Nagual woman was a creature of impulse at the best of times.

And so impulse had taken her. A sort of agonising bitterness ripping at her soul at how certain this monster seemed. It offended some part of Lotlhuitl that he knew his purpose. That it was so clearly defined for him. That.. he might strive towards goodness, when such things had been declined to her.

There was a SURGE of corrupt mana from the Nagual. Pale green light radiating forth. Fragments of broken mirror hung in the air around Lotlhuitl, reflecting Peacekeeper, reflecting the moon's own light -- heck, even reflecting the glow from the magma below.

Peacekeeper may have been aware of a certain kind of corruption brushing against his soul, like he was being examined. Appraised. And the best part of him would be chosen, drawn forth from him.

"I do not wish death on you, Peacekeeper; only freedom."

And then?

The Nagual turned his own powers against him.

Light headed, she attacked.
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[09:54] Peacekeeper had been content to continue on his path, though his hand had remained on the hilt of his sword for precisely this reason, and this reason alone.

What little he knew of the Nagual involved an immunity to necromancy and a devotion to the destruction of undead. Peacekeeper had never truly suffered for his trust, no; but to be so foolish as to expect kindness from all would be a cruelty to those he would protect.

At the surge of corrupt mana, at the feeling of corruption brushing up against the undead's soul, the hissing of vapor from the inside of his chest intensifies, filling the air around him as the wind begins to pick up and swirl it around him in a tempestuous barrier.

'I do not wish death upon you, Peacekeeper' -

A statement that draws his attention, as he uncannily pivots to face her. From his perspective, her stance certainly betrays that to be -

'only freedom.'

A lie.

"I have the freedom to be human, much the same as you do to be a murderer."

In a fluid slice through the air, Peacekeeper draws his sword, which holds a rather fitting engraving upon it. A prayer to the Dreamer for the strength to be merciful.

"May mercy be in my hands, rather than yours. You would throw it away, would you not?"
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[10:03]
{LOAD GAME}

[10:15] You learned the spell Venomous Dash.
[10:40] As the first jolt of power springs from the Nagual's limbs, Peacekeeper springs into action as well. He slides across the ground in fluid movements completely uncharacteristic of the slow, mechanical movements he normally uses, but the quick bursts of speed and the uncanny way he seems to skip instants of time bring with them a thundering racket of bones and metal slamming together.

A vicious barrier of wind surrounds the undead as he jumps from spot to spot, taking little more than an instant to swivel his focus back to the Nagual and her magics. The barrier of wind surrounds his weapon as he sidesteps her attacks and cleaves them in twain with the combination of the mythril blade and the sharp slashes of wind that follow it.

"Harm me, and you harm those I would protect. I cannot allow that."

Noxious, acrid fumes follow Peacekeeper wherever he goes, drawing a line across the battlefield as he zips from one side to another. After he works out Lotlhuitl's pattern of attack, he begins weaving his way through her blows and delivering harsh, acidic slices across her bare skin along his path from one side of her to the other.

The combination of the burning, acidic pain, the fumes and heat from the magma nearby slowly becomes more and more overwhelming. Though the Nagual manages to drive the undead close to exhaustion, should such a thing exist, as his robes are melted away by the noxious fumes hissing out of his frame, a full set of adamantite armor of plates and scales covering more and more layers of armor under it is revealed beneath -

beaten, perhaps, and likely damaged. But certainly not pierced; Lotlhuitl seems far more worse for wear.

Likely unbeknownst to Lotlhuitl, his own reserves of mana were running thin. Though he doesn't huff and puff like a human might, his movements become slower as slower as he fights. Peacekeeper feels the need to finish this.

In a fateful burst of speed directly at the unsteady, feverish Nagual, Peacekeeper SLAMS into her, a vicious tackle that sends her rolling across the ground, rather than a stab or a slash that might have caused permanent damage.

She's knocked out of his reach, as that hollow voice vocalizes once more,

"I have the freedom to be merciful; more freedom than you, Nagual.

Remember that."

Though his gaze remains trained upon her, he makes no movement to strike again.
(Peacekeeper)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[11:33] Mercy.

She was always at someone else's fucking mercy.

Lotlhuitl was defeated by Peacekeeper. Even wielding his own power against him, she still couldn't win.

She wasn't strong enough to do what had to be done.

The undead was quicker than the Nagual. What an injustice! A bunch of bones moving with greater grace, greater finesse than a NAGUAL.

It really didn't help that the woman had been seeing double before the fight had even begun. The air within the caldera was filled with noxious gasses. Poison.

He moved past her with ease. Like she was lagging a second or so behind him. She could barely track his movements. Her pupils constricted to pinpricks, blood poisoned by his magic.

A scream.

It echoed through the volcano, though it took her another moment to realise it was hers.

He'd burnt her. Not flames: acid. Panicking, the woman had been about to douse herself with water, only to be knocked from her feet.

Her lungs were burning. On fire. She couldn't breathe. The Betrayer's agent was going to slay her.

This wasn't fair. This wasn't right.

Lying on her back, her eyes had locked onto his gaze for a moment, visibly struggling to breathe: hands clutching at her throat. The visual was accompanied with a wet, hacking, wheezing sound. Moisture -- no, tears, dotted at the corners of her eyes..

And then he spoke.

His hollow voice threatened to shatter through her, piercing her mind more than any blade could have pierced her body.

Again and again, she heard the undead say, 'I have the freedom to be more merciful. More freedom than you, Nagual.'

"Nn-no." Lotlhuitl croaked. Each word agony. It was an incredible effort to pull herself to her feet, but somehow she did it. Spite. "Fuck you! You're not better than me." He was. The fucking undead monster was better than her. "Who are you to offer me merc--" A hacking cough threatened to overwhelm her.

The undead was going to spare her, only for the volcano to kill her.

She hadn't welcomed death, but it hadn't exactly frightened her either. But this? This was AGONY.

The woman was resting entirely on her staff, knees trembling, gaze staring up at the undead with a mixture of bewilderment, of anger, of pain, of angony, of envy.

Emotions flared within her, along with her corrupted mana. But sadly, the Nagual's stubborn nature could only hold out so long.

Lotlhuitl fell, face first, into the volcanic soil.

The Sin of Envy's pale green aura plinking out with an audible cracking sound. Each little reflection shattering and disappearing from view as the fallen woman passed into unconsciousness.
(Lotlhuitl)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[11:51] Peacekeeper watches the woman struggle to fight, but the sight is a sadder one than he expects. He stands, motionless and still, as her angered, spiteful words pass through one earhole and out the other. Mere noise, in light of what she was doing. In light of how powerless she seemed to him.

When she pulls herself to her feet, Peacekeeper simply says,

"Stop. You will harm your-"

DOOF.

"... self."

Aaaaaand, she's down for the count. One, two, three...

Peacekeeper lets out one long, solid rumble in what would sound like a sigh, if the Nagual were conscious to hear it. He sheathes his weapon before approaching and picking up the Nagual in his arms - gathering up her staff and carrying it along as well, of course.

Peacekeeper is quite possibly the most ignorant person on Agartha when it comes to human anatomy, but even he can tell she isn't quite okay. Probably the heat...

"If I were more vindictive, I would say you owe me for this, Nagual."

And so, the undead carries her to the shrine on the volcano. Surely the Dreamer wouldn't mind if her sanctuary were used for one of the stipulations of her tenets.

He wasn't exactly tempering progress, but... Close enough, he figures. Close enough.
(Peacekeeper)