The Reborn Immortals - Do Not Disturb

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  1. The clearing was a small, a cozy space for the thirteen figures that lay prone, scattered in the grass as though carelessly tossed aside. The Earth Mother was careless of her children's frailty and had deposited them there somewhat roughly, exhausting much of her energy.​
    Her children had all been killed twenty years ago, and reborn in weak, human forms. At least her eldest son remembered who (what) he was; he would need to convince the others if they were to avenge their own deaths.​
    And, in all likelihood, prevent their mother's.​
    At the edge of the clearing, Matthias stirred and rose groggily to his feet. He looked the same as he did in his past life, all tanned and beautiful, wearing just a pair of white pants and plain leather sandals. His hair was still all shades of bronze and copper and gold, down to his shoulders and unbrushed. There's more than a day's stubble on his chin and dirt from travel sticks to his skin, but it's an honest sort of dirt and he's only the more beautiful for it.​
    Patron of resurrection, he somewhat reluctantly recalled the circumstances in which he last saw his siblings in flawless detail. At their foolish council, putting them all in one location, almost too easy to take down if one had the proper blade. No doubt the Smith would be displeased to know that someone had crafted a blade to kill an Immortal; it was a feat not even the half-god had achieved yet.​
    Those blades scared him. Though his body was always weak as a human's, those of his siblings had not been. No mortal blade should have parted their skin like no mortal disease could infect their bodies, no mortal aging mar their complexions. And yet, though hundreds of years old, they had been killed by some red-cloaked fanatics wielding blades that even the Earth Goddess did not know the nature of.​
    In all truth, those blades terrified him to his core, but in no small way it wasn't his battle. He would just be reborn again, and again, and again, for his immortality was of a different sort. His siblings were not meant to be reborn. They were not meant to be reincarnated. They were not meant to change.​
    They were pitifully vulnerable for the first time in their long history, hardly more than human as they were.​
    Though he situation was very serious, it put a little smirk on his face to know that, finally, the half-mortal brother that they all had picked on was the most powerful one.​
    Now they just needed to wake up and hear the good news.​
    #1 Lady Sabine, Jul 1, 2013
    Last edited: Jul 9, 2013
  2. Ynu's eyes opened suddenly, her mind finally caught up with her body. She had dim memories of walking through a garden, of the ground beneath her feet suddenly parting and pulling at her ankles... then nothing. Nothing at all for hours, if her rumbling stomach was any indication.
    There was blue sky above her, and trees, and it was a little after noon. She had taken a walk in the morning- but was it this morning or last? Or earlier than that, even? She was painfully weak and barely had the energy to stand up, an embarrassing predicament for a powerful woman like herself. For a person who could stand on their tip-toes and them launch herself into graceful spins and leaps, this lethargy was unnatural and unnerving. Not as bad as suddenly appearing in a place she'd never seen before, granted, but pretty bad.
    Turning around, her eyes noticed other figures laying prone in the clearing. A dozen or so people lay scattered around her, hailing from all walks of life and all parts of the world. A confused frown passed over her features as she finally found the only other person who had yet awoken. He looked strangely, painfully, familiar. After a moment she realized: in front of her stood the spitting image of Matthias. The Matthias. The Immortal. The one who had supposedly died twenty years ago. The one whose face was in half the temples across the world, gazing out with a benevolent expression that promised forgiveness and love and peace.
    Ynu wondered if she ought to fall to her knees in reverence or be offended at the obvious impersonation. The Immortals were dead. It was known.
    "Who are you?" She asked after a moment, and he turned around to face her with a little smirk on his face.
    "I'm dead, like you," Matthias replied evenly. "Now sit down, you're shaking like a newborn colt. I'll explain when everyone else is awake; I'm not repeating myself twelve times for you lot."
    Words of protest died on her lips at the seriousness in his voice. Ynu was a princess and took orders from no one, but this time, perhaps, she would make an exception. She sat down, cross-legged, hoping the dozen other people would awaken sooner rather than later.
    #2 Lady Sabine, Jul 9, 2013
    Last edited: Jul 17, 2013
  3. Azaleh sniffed, rolling over, the scent of fresh grass entering his nose. How pleasant. Did I get an inn in the woods? Slowly, as his mind oriented itself, he realized that something was different. Wrong. No, the inn was in the city. I remember, because it smelled disgusting and there were rats everywhere. But, alas, it seemed he was born to suffer. He sat up, his muscles protesting, and looked around, squinting. A clearing of some sort, with people, unconscious like he had just been, to every side. None wounded or dead, though. A few were stirring now. Uncomfortable and cold ground beneath him and a bright blue sky above that was just waiting to cause a headache-- he was sure that he had fallen asleep in an inn. "What..." He looked from side to side, squinting. Was this a dream? He certainly hoped it was-- unless he was mistaken, the gooey substance caked in his clothing was mud, and this grass had to leave stains.

    His gaze fell onto a man who was standing towards one side. He looked vaguely familiar, but Aza couldn't be sure where he'd seen him before. Maybe a portrait? I don't remember. He collected himself for a few seconds, then tucked his legs under himself and rose to his feet, brushing himself off with precision. This dizziness and disorientation was lasting rather long; generally, Aza was not one to get muscle aches or vertigo. He leveled an accusing finger at Matthias, and spoke, his voice high and clear, his words suffused with indignation. "Who are you? You decide to grab law-abiding citizens--" He paused, considering the variety of figures also present, but decided to press on. "Law-abiding citizens, and dump them in the middle of a dirty clearing? I had an appointment with a colleague, I'll have you know, and I don't have the time to deal with your shenanigans. Where is this?"

    Seryn stirred at the sound of loud voices, one hand reaching for his spectacles. Perhaps his brother was having another argument with his father? No, this was a different voice. And unless he was mistaken, this was not his bed; instead of his nightstand, his hand found grass, and instead of books, he smelled grass, and dirt, and all of those things that one might find outside. One hand snaked down to the watch in his pocket, and he felt over the hands. About a quarter past twelve? Why had I not awoken sooner? He sat up, having determined that someone had played a prank on him, and not at all expecting to see what he did.

    His eyes narrowed as he took in the situation. Two men were standing, and the one nearer to him was shouting something about law-abiding citizens. "I would appreciate it if you would kindly shut your lips," he said, holding his head as he felt the impact of several hours of disturbed sleep. If this was a prank, it was a strange one. He looked from side to side, memorizing faces, and also took note of the man's voice. "And you," he said, indicating Matthias with the inclination of the head peculiar to those who are used to a certain measure of authority and accorded respect. "Is the facial aspect of the Savior intentional?" He'd studied art for a period of time, and the similarity was uncanny. "Can't say that would be good for your health, though." Everyone knew that the Immortals, including the Savior, had been killed-- history suggested that the ones who did it might also dislike a pretender to the name.

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  4. The chatter of a few unfamiliar voices woke Xamantha from her sleep, eyes snapping open to take in her surroundings. They were unfamiliar to her, a small clearing somewhere in a forest. She obviously wasn't anywhere near home. The forests of her land had been burned by war or cut down to make room for progress. So how had she come to be here, so far away from home? There was a worry growing in her stomach. What would her comrades think when they found her gone? Would they label her dead? A deserter? However she had come to be here, she needed to return home. There was a war being fought, and she needed to be there on the front lines. The young woman brought herself to her feet, dusting the dirt and grass from her coat. It seemed all of her equipment had come with her. That was a welcomed relief.

    Turning her attention towards those that occupied the clearing with her, she wondered briefly if any of them had been the one to kidnap her. Maybe they all had, though some looked just as confused about finding themselves in this place as herself. Perhaps they could be useful in navigating a way out. The grass crunched underneath her boots, the toe kicking someone's leg as she walked by their sleeping form. "Well, seems we're in a bit of a mess now, ain't we?" She mumbled, a grin pulling at her scarred lips. "I don't suppose any of you know what the hell is going on? Or better yet, a way out of here?"

    Pain blossomed out from his leg, jarring Simmon into the waking world with a soft hiss. Thin hands reached down to rub the now bruised area, a frown set firmly on his face. It was much to early to be getting kicked around. His mind slowly waking up, one hand moved to feel the bed that shoudl have been there. Instead, he came back with a handful of grass and dirt. This was wrong. He had been at home. Even if he had set up camp and slept in the woods, he would be on a bedroll. The young man sat up, surprised to see others in the clearing with him. What had happened last night? He was so sure that he'd been at home. Seeing that people were beginning to gather, the red head picked himself up off the ground, drifting over towards the group. He kept his distance, every so often glancing towards the tree line. Maybe it'd be better to go find a way out...

    Cicero was confused. Wherever he was now was much comfier than where he had slept the night before. He was almost tempted to just go back to sleep, had it not been for the voices of those around him. There were fewer people here than he was used to. Usually the streets were so loud that conversations were lost within the din. This place was filled with such silence that it was unnerving. Not enirely sure where he was or what was happening, Cicero felt it best to remain seated where he was. Better to keep out of everyone's way. They all sounded confused, or angry. That usually meant hostile, and he wanted no part of that.
  5. The prickly sensation that covered Lahmia's exposed skin prompted her to sit upwards. definitely not the Delmoore residence. Her beautiful eyes looked at her surroundings while her hand to move the bleach blond strands of hair that had managed to fall out of place. It wasn't long till she noticed the others also scattered around the field, most looking just as confused as her. When they started to slowly gather in the center she shifted her body upwards only stopping when her well-fitting dress ripped by the movement.

    "Well I'll be cursed." Lahmia muttered to herself looking around so that no one would see what she was going to do next. Her eyes closed and she began speaking a spell under her breath which caused a cold sensation to fill her right palm before a small icicle formed out of nothing. It was a nice little party trick she had learned not too long ago. Lahmia then quickly cut at her dress, using the torn section as a base. Afterwards standing, her long slender legs revealed. She threw off the large fur scarf she had worn the previous night and walked into the circle the crowd formed. She glanced at the different people here, a girl with a scar and a man with skin fairer then her's catching her eyes immediately before she turned to the man who seemed to be waiting for everyone to gather. "You did not do anything to us girls while we were asleep yes?" Lahmia spoke, her eyes rolling and her hands finding her well defined hips.

    The smell of grass and the feel of the wind filled the space around Rosalinda and she couldn't help but smile. Shifting in the grass-bed she laid on she turned to her side, only opening her eyes then. She could see the forest-line in the distance and automatically she was confused. Why had she been sleeping in the clearing and not the forest? Had she sleep-walked? It was only when her eyes found a peculiar herb of sorts not too far from her. A herb which she didn't recognize. This was definitely not her home. She shot upwards her violet-colored eyes landing on the large group centering themselves in the forest, were those her kidnappers? No some of them were just as confused as her, they were practically arguing among each other, causing a frown to find her small red lips. Why were people so quick to bite at each other? Everyone should try to live in peace, like the animals at home..

    Rosa got to her feet, feeling the bare ground with her soles. This area was very far away from her home, the ground and the dirt were much to dry to be near that forest of hers. She glanced at the clearing others were still waking up, her flowery dress making her seem like she was a faerie that came out of the ground. She slowly wondered to the loud group, everybody pretty much towering over the diminutive girl. She found a spot in the crowd but she didn't say a word, just standing there listening in.
  6. Felicia

    She was already confused, wondering where her bright blue skies, rolling clouds, and sparkling waves had gone to. But this! This was absolutely insane!

    Waking up with the sounds of frustration, when she had closed her eyes to peace and relaxation, was not what she'd had planned for her morning. Regardless of the slight tension in her mist, Felicia didn't fell nervous at the tones she heard - only curious...

    Before she fell asleep, she watched the sunrise off the coast of Ssagonot Bay, wiggled her toes in the damp sand, and wondered how many people followed a shooting star and was lucky enough to find it when it landed. Her morning dreams were filled with chatter and laughter and the sounds of hooves treading upon tightly packed earth grooved from the wheels of travelers. She recalled the lovely people and places she'd recently visited before reaching the Bay, and giggled softly in her peace about the more comical moments. But when the scent of the sea breeze altered into fresh, dew-sprinkled grass, which tickling the tip of her nose, the idea she had about bathing in the ocean quickly changed.

    Her form shifted under the brown travel cloak that seem to have been tossed over her with no concern. Small bare feet slipped from under the hem, and two toned arms stretched out from the collar. A crazy fit of wavy reddish hair, lightly sun-bleached upon her crown, puffed out next, tangled with a few small twigs and leaves. Felicia felt that there was a lot more of her to stretch than usual, but in her grogginess she didn't pay too much attention to that. She chalked it up as just some adverse reaction to being so rudely awaken. Felicia lazily sat up to toss her hair from her face and rub her eyes, moaning briefly in her struggle to fully resurface from her 'daydream'. Her cloak fell from her supple shoulders, pulling down the thin, silky strap that tied one half of her lilt blouse in place. She didn't notice. Removing her cloak, she found her green traveling skirt, tattered at the hem from hard travel, now ripped slightly at one side. Beneath the tear, a splash of blood and a fairly thin cut down her calf; a rock - the culprit - still flushed against her leg as it sat.

    "Um, and I'd just mended this two night's ago," mumbling to herself with a child-like grin across her face. Felicia seem to study the tear and her scar, wondering more about where she can find the tools and herbs to fix both, rather than holding concern for where she was and who she was with. Even though she seemed uninterested in the issues swelling up around her, her little ears were transfixed upon each word.

    "...Law-abiding citizens, and dump them in the middle of a dirty clearing?"

    "...Is the facial aspect of the Savior intentional?"

    "...I don't suppose any of you know what the hell is going on? Or better yet, a way out of here?"

    "...You did not do anything to us girls while we were asleep yes?"

    She listened, and eventually looked up from her doings to watch. Sure enough, there was a man standing before a small crowd from all walks of life - she could almost place them in their exact locations by just their attire and placement of words in their sentences. The one taking in all their accusations held the face of The Savior, one of the Immortals who passed on when - strangely enough - their time had come. Felicia wasn't too worried about the fears a few held, for she could see that this Matthias look-alike wasn't one to hold such a hateful idea. Her dark green eyes watched his silent reaction to the others, and all she could do was smile and giggle from the sudden warm breeze that seem to brush across her face.

    She stood up carefully, feeling strangely higher off the ground once her feet were planted. Again, she didn't pay no never mind, for her curiosity moved her feet. Silently, with a sweet tilt of her head, Felicia stepped forward, pulling that runaway strap of silk back upon her shoulder to remain as modest as she could among strangers. She silently slipped around the crowd of people, circling them like an interested little bird pecking around the ground for crumbs; almost skipping in her nonchalant way. She was pecking around for clues - for there was something familiar about each face she glanced at. But it was this - Matthias - that really had her struck. All she could recall were the many paintings and sculptures of his likeness, but there was something more locked away in her memories that questioned the doubtful comment from one of the others.
    #6 Phi Chisym, Jul 11, 2013
    Last edited: Jul 12, 2013
  7. Taine woke to an unfamiliar forest... and the chatter of multiple people. For a moment he merely kept still... listening... scenting. The birds here were different from his little glade near the village. The trees, the grass, all smelled different. Nothing felt right. The only thing still there to reassure him was the hefty feel of his hatchet and knife on his belt, and the knowledge that none of those around him sounded overly hostile. Still though, he let his hand wander to his waist, lightly gripping the heft of his axe.

    He opened his eyes slowly and glanced about, trying to note the angle of the sun, the flora and fauna about... for once in his life he was completely lost in the forest. Amazing. He lifted himself up into a cautious crouch, his large body still overshadowing several of the others in the clearing... there was no way any of them could miss him but he would certainly be ready to defend himself if it came to it... or disappear into the forest if it turned out worse than he feared.

    His eyes danced around, taking in each person in stride. Men, women... people from all castes... and even a few different nations. It wasn't until his eyes lighted upon the man who all the others addressed that he was seriously struck dump. Matthias... Lord of Mercy. He would call it impossible if it weren't for the fact that he was a god.

    Taine's axe fell to the ground and he to his haunches, giving the demigod a the respect of submission... A small smile touched his scarred cheek as he muttered," Mercy has returned to the world..."

    Cali spun to her feet, dirt flying in a spray about her, her hammer flying from its holster and into her hand," Tha hell is goin' on 'ere eh?" She remembered the tavern she slept in the night before, a piss poor and shaby place, smelling of old ale and vomit. She'd been passed out on the table with a flagon in one hand and a broken chair leg in the other. That brawl the night before had been a good one... An uppity drunk with wandering hands, who just happened to have a couple friends... and enemies who were rarin' ta go. When Cali had thrown him across the bar for touching her rump his buddies had jumped to his defense... and the other patrons had jumped at the chance to pound them... or maybe just jumped at the chance for a fight at all. She knew for sure that that was what she had been jonesing for.

    The fight had lasted long into the night, the bar had been totaled, and every single patron had had at least a slight limp. It had been a helluva brawl. One that could do even her high standards proud... So how in the name of all things holy had she gotten into this damned clearing? The only thing she could imagine was that the fool and his buddies had come back for revenge and yet... she didn't recognize even one of the people here... No matter how drunk she was she always remembered those she fought. Especially the sore loser's. She sighed in frustration... what in the hell was she doing here?

    She stood there a moment before deciding that she would have to wait for answers, at least most of them. With a quick look around she spotted one of the biggest men shed ever seen crouching down like a wolf taking a breather," Ah what the hell... worth a shot." She quickly walked over to the man and leaned over so that she could whisper in his ear," Sup' big man?"

    Taine glared in annoyance before answering her," That's Matthias, god of mercy, apparently back from the dead... Or so I think. On the bright side if not... ain't like he could smite me ."

    Cali chuckled a bit at the big mans dry wit before turning to the man at the head of the clearing. She was forced to whistle in appreciation, eying the so called god up and down. He certainly looked... divine. She grinned wolfishly," You don't say..."

    She opted to lean back and wait, but she kept her hammer at hand... seemed like he had something to say. Might as well listen.
    #7 Ferril, Jul 12, 2013
    Last edited: Jul 13, 2013
  8. There was a subtle difference between waking up from sleep and waking up from unconciousness. As the type of man who often dabbled in both ends of the spectrum, Chase had become familiar with the moment of waking.

    Only an idiot opened his eyes immediately...that gave away the game altogether. The sound of voices wove their way around him. He could or five at least, maybe six. There was a slight pulse of pain in his temple, remnants of last night's antics with that town guard...Del-something or other, in any case, he played cards like a saint.

    Which is probably why he lost.

    And also probably why he got upset.

    Which subsequently came to blows.

    And now Chase was here in...the forest, according to the dirt and loam skirting over his fingertips.

    Well then, some facts had been established. Unfamiliar terrain, unfamiliar people. Not the most ideal situation in the world. His first guess would have been an unexpected awakening in the middle of his own unmarked burial, but the confusion painted in words of the others suggested differently. It seemed the rest were spirited away as well.

    A woman spoke...she sounded attractive, but he'd been fooled by the whores of Gosha before.

    What was of most interest to him was that some idiot was babbling about a god. Yes. A god. Matthias or something or other. Personally, Chase had never weighed much faith by the gods. What invisible, dreamstuff, nonsense fools prayed to was no concern to him. Let them placate the skies or the ground to give their crop full yield.

    Chase often felt it was the same as praying to the cheap broth he bought in less reputable inns to NOT have some sort of animal bit that shouldn't belong.

    Cute, but ultimately ineffective.

    The longer he laid there, the more he started to recall.

    Maybe he wasn't being fully honest with himself here. Truth be told, that guard he'd cheated in the tavern last night had been holding his own pretty damn well. It had even come to that part in the evening when accusations about his integrity as a better had been questioned.

    So he'd chosen the beefiest, angriest looking woman in the bar and cupped her butt with all the privilege of a highborn and all the respect he would afford to a whore. When she wheeled though, she only found of the guard's friends...a fellow who had the intolerable habit of not holding his liquor.

    In the brawl that followed, he would have made off with the gold on the table if someone hadn't misjudged him for a thief and threw a chair into his head.

    Or...judged him correctly.

    He could feel eyes on him, that uncomfortable sixth sense a pickpocket either swiftly acquires or that other sense...the one that lets you sleep in cramped dungeons.

    Chase never got the hang of that one.

    "What?" He said without opening his eyes, "I'm awake, yah? If you're looking for gold than you were a fool to not take it off me already and if you're looking for my life you're a fool for not taking it yet...and if this is about that stint in Lux, I stand by my story that for a princess, she did NOT look or act of her that's on you."

    He sat up, glancing around the circle and blinking once in recognition of the girl from the tavern.

    "And if it's none of the above, could I be that guy and simply say that a circle of beds might have been more comfortable to wake up on?"
  9. Matthias was more than a little taken aback by the various responses. Some offended him, some humbled him, some made him wonder if his siblings had been reborn idiots, but they all made him step back a little in shock. On a mental level he realized that his siblings would have no memory of their past lives, no idea of who he was except from what they might have learned of him... but after the animosity that they had shown him in their past incarnations, this level of acceptance, the lack of any airs they put on around him, was incredibly refreshing. He felt somewhat guilty, as though he were taking advantage of them somehow, by being the only one with memories and knowledge that spanned before the event.
    He found himself at a loss for words, and paused for a minute before he figured out a way to address the other dozen entities. "I have a story to tell you," Matthias declared after a moment, dipping his head and sending a small prayer to the Earth Mother to guide his words and let all gathered know them as truth. "This story begins twenty years ago, in the circle of standing stones that lies in the middle of the great plain known as the Whispering Sea. This is a true story, though it is already fading into myth and memory. In this story, the twelve Immortals are gathered in between the stones, ready to hold their court, as they do every year. The Smith is there, looking for a warrior worthy of one of his spellblades. The Healer is there, wondering if any who come before him will be pure enough to deserve a cure. The Enchantress is there, hoping to find herself a lover, and the Warrior is there, hoping it will be him. They are all there because they have sworn to do so, a small duty to the human race, though they themselves are not human. They are all born of the Earth mother, though they all have different fathers.
    "No human may hurt them, for they are Immortal. No human blade can part their skin. No human poison can affect their bodies. They may go for months without eating and be none the weaker for it. They are as untouchable as the sky itself, but tonight they are touched. They are touched by crimson blades grasped in crimson gloves by assassins that hide their faces behind crimson hoods. These thirteen assassins come and butcher the Immortals, who are helpless as newborn babes, for none of them have ever comprehended mortality. They are killed in a matter of seconds, every one of them, and the assassins take one item from each body as a prize, and to keep them from rising again.
    "But they did not account for the first child of the Earth Mother, her mortal-bred son Matthias. When he arrived they did hastily slay him, and in so doing forgot what he was. Matthias was the Immortal of redemption, of rebirth, of forgiveness and brotherly love. All the others died with hate and fear, but he died forgiving. And when he died and his blood soaked into the Earth, it gave the Earth power and passion.
    "The bodies were too mangled and their essences had been stolen. Only spirits remained, but that was enough for the Great Mother. She took the souls and planted them into the bodies of twelve mortal women on that midsummer night.
    "Now, think of this story. Twenty years ago, midsummer. We were all born that following spring. You all share my birthday, though my parents were poor and had not a calendar and I know not what that is. We thirteen were born together, because we were conceived together. Conceived of a goddess unwilling to let her children face mortality. I do not expect you to believe this easily, but I ask you to look upon your lives. Have you not felt the difference? Have you not known that you are something more?
    "I am Matthias. I remember this because I am the Immortal of rebirth. Still, the energy it took me to revive you all has cost me, and I am weak, weak as all of you. Even without your full strength, though, you all are extraordinary. You know your skills, know that they are not normal, unexplainable, even. Say that is false and you may walk away. Say you are normal and return to your old lives.
    "Accept that you are different, and I will show you how very different you are."
    He took a deep breath, and finally stepped forwards, pulling Ynu to her feet first. "Into the family eternal I welcome you and name you sister, and bid your legs stay strong and graceful, Dancer," he murmured, and brushed his lips lightly across her own. It was not a romantic kiss, yet it was filled with the most incredible love. The young woman pulled away, putting her fingertips to her lips, shocked but not offended. It was all strange, yet it all felt so right. She nodded solemnly, overwhelmed but strangely convinced.
    He went next to Felicia, a gentle smile on his lips for his youngest sibling as he touched them to hers. "I bid you welcome to the family eternal, my youngest sister, Horsemaiden. Let family bonds never tie you down but let you wander free."
    Next to his fiercest sibling, slightly more cautious than before. "Welcome to the eternal family, Warrior. May your blades and spirit stay sharp and strong," he murmured, and pressed his lips to hers for a moment, hoping that she would view him more favorably in this incarnation than her last.
    A natural segue, he went next to the Enchantress, appraising her with some surprise to how closely she resembled her former self. The magic, he supposed, had always been a great influence on her appearance. When he kissed her gently he murmured "this is the first time I have touched you, my sister. Let this be taken as a friendly, non-sexual welcome to the family eternal. Let your spirit shine brightly and needless suspicion dim a bit, yes?"
    The next kiss was for Rosalinda, and he did not hesitate with her, pleased by the peace she carried with. "Ah, my quiet sister," he murmured, smiling. "I bid you welcome to the family eternal. May you live to see a thousand generations of the trees you so love."
    Next to Cicero, he placed his hands gently on his blind brother's shoulders, hoping to startle him less. "Welcome to the family eternal, Prophet," he stated softly, and kissed his brother. "May you always see the future as clearly as I see you now, and with the same benevolence."
    After Cicero he went to Simmon, sensing the isolation clinging to the young man. "Come into the family eternal, my Ranger brother," he whispered, kissing his brothers on the lips, "and never be more alone than you desire."
    From Simmon to Seryn, and another gentle touch of his lips to others. "I welcome you to the family eternal, my Scholarly brother," the savior said softly, "I am glad to see you have already learned something of our history, and hope your mind remains sharp as our Smith's blades."
    Onwards to the Healer, and another gentle smile for the person who had used to be one of his least favorite siblings. "Calm, my brother. I welcome you into the family eternal, Healer, and pray you remain hale and healthy, oh paragon of cleanliness and virtue."
    That done, he sought out the Rogue, shaking his head slightly at the state his brother had wound up in. Hardly surprising; still amusing. "Welcome to the family eternal, brother Rogue," He greeted with a slight chuckle. "May at least half your antics never catch up with you."
    He headed next to his half-haired sister, wondering if she regretted her earlier words now that she knew they were siblings, if not in blood. "I welcome you back to the family eternal my sister, my Smith. May your forge never cool," he murmured, and gave her a kiss like the others.
    And last to the brother who had once been his greatest rival. The Wildling, as eldest of the "true" children of the Earth mother, had resented Matthias for his status as true firstborn, and the two had ever been in conflict, man vs. nature. He hoped to set that aside, and nodded respectfully the only remaining person, drawing him to his feet with gentle hands. "I welcome you back to the family eternal, my Wild brother," the young man stated solemnly, and gave him an equally solemn kiss to the lips. "May you have and keep the freedom and respect of the forests themselves."
  10. In times long past, Chase had seen a madman on the streets of the capitol city Vai. The way he swayed was not in exhaustion, but dangerous conviction. At the time, he had avoided those mad red-rimmed eyes as if they were the gaze of the palace itself. There was judgement there, and frightening unpredictability. Those were the eyes of a man who saw a different world than others, and, in this knowledge, was exonerated of all crimes.

    A thief made his living by reading his marks, understanding situations, and enacting the best plan for both survival and prosperity.

    This entire situation had gone from an uncomfortable mystery to a deadly certainty.

    Immortals. Reborn. Ruby blades.

    This...Matthias was a madman and worse, he had no idea.

    "Weeeeell," Chase said first with an easy smile, "How fortuitous you managed to gather us all together" The word felt wrong on his tongue, like a bit of bad beef. He grappled with it, remembering that family was simply another word for prison, and then released it.

    It sounded wrong and Chase winced.

    "Now that we are well met, perhaps you'd like to explain where we are...exactly, and why you couldn't have just...well, sent us an invitation? Was the whole spiriting away really necessary?" Both hands came up defensively, "Not that I think family isn't worth it, mind you, just that in the future, I'd prefer a nice tavern, maybe...some pleasurable company..." He glanced at the 'Enchantress' and the 'Dancer' before realizing he was supposed to be related and swiftly returned his gaze to Matthias, "You know, as much as I'm all for communing with the dirt in the middle of nowhere, I'm a man with a taste for the finer...less untamed wilderness-y things in life."
  11. Azaleh pulled back sharply, his eyes narrowing at the man. Is he a loon? It's not a physical disease, and I'm not trained in the diagnosis of the mind. Though he didn't have any of the sense of filth and wrongness that usually followed such people, he was acting very strangely. Surely he didn't believe that he was a god. But this guy-- Matthias, was it?-- did seem incredibly familiar. "The hell...?" he asked, his mind working. "And I really must agree that there was no need to pull us out of our lives. If you want to play a trick, play a trick, but leave upstanding people out of it." Especially given that the Healer was his own patron, and was not known to be particularly forgiving of offenses-- such as the taking of his name. With a glare, he turned, expression aloof, attempting to gain his bearings.

    When he failed to recognize any landmarks, he turned back around, eyes fixing on the madman. "You are going to tell me where we are," he said, his mouth compressing into a thin line of displeasure and impatience. It didn't concern him that this man could have the answers to why his hands closed wounds without herbs, why the patients he cherished never died, no matter how severe their sicknesses. He wasn't just staying to get answers about his life. No, he didn't care at all.

    Seryn frowned slightly, eyes closing as he chased a fleeting sense of... something. Memories seemed to hover just outside of his awareness, fading to nothing when he focused on them. He opened his eyes, shaking his head, and focused on the situation. Best to clearly consider everything he knew.

    Fact: Matthias was the thirteenth sibling in most records of the Immortals, and the man had correctly identified the aspects of all of the others, though none of them, himself included, resembled the portraits made of them in previous ages. It would not have been hard to identify their professions; his own soft hands, glasses, and residence would have clearly identified him as a choice for the Scholar, just as the purported Healer's bag no doubt contained herbs and the Smith's hands were callused, her shoulders and arms strong. Anyone could have done as much.
    Fact: His memory was far out of the ordinary-- he'd never forgotten anything. But he hadn't realized it until later in his life, and he hadn't ever told anyone. The man couldn't have known that.
    Conjecture: Magic of this type-- though he had to admit the topic was not his strongest point-- was not common. Either this man was very rich, very skilled, or actually who he claimed to be.

    A decision. Seryn stepped forwards, hands spread, mind analytical. In any case, it would do no good to go against him; fighting was a physical impossibility for him, as was spellcasting of any sort, and he'd directed his prayers to the Scholar when he'd still had the inclination to pray. "In that case, Matthias, please do accept my gratitude for your actions. If I may ask, though-- why have you called us together now? Surely magic of that type would draw the attention of any hostile force."
  12. Felicia

    Felicia listened and watched, still observing this odd group of strangers and wondering why she felt so - distant; and yet, familiar and comfortable - around them. It wasn't really a strange concept. She's known to be the girl who never meets a stranger in her town; the one who seems to understand those she meets, even if she's only seen them once across the way. Therefore, she shouldn't be surprised at the moment. Non the sort! Instead, she was surprised at herself for the indifference she held within herself about them all. She's never felt this way before about anyone she's ever met! It was as if she knows a winter morning lake's water is freezing cold, can feel it's absence of warmth, can even see how the ice cracks webs over some of its surface... Yet, she's still unaware, or unfamiliar with this knowledge and ventures forth regardless; stepping into it and placing her toes in danger of frostbite.

    It confused her though, to feel this sort of detached - attachment, and according to Matthias' words they all were actual immortal siblings.... which sounded like a story from a book of fairy tails her mother use to read to her and her brother. This intrigued her to understand further, to figure out how such common and uncommon people, from various walks of life and lands are suddenly found together in this circle with a god telling them that they are gods themselves? Comical, she thought, until Matthias stepped before each one of them, starting with the beautiful dark skinned girl still sitting on the ground. Felicia marveled at how her form and attire seem to move in grace as she stood, like she's been dancing throughout her life on a little silver string - too delicate for anyone else to tread. When he gave her a kiss and spoke to her, Felicia became befuddled even more - especially when he then stepped before her and done the same.

    Her eyes grew with a wild sparkle and a giggle fell from her. There was something in his kiss that reminded her of warm cider and the sweetness of her little brother's tight hug as they rocked each other comfortably in their mom's rocking chair before a hearty fireplace. There was bittersweet nostalgia twisted up in that once touch, and again a unique emotion filled her with care.

    "I bid you welcome to the family eternal, my youngest sister, Horsemaiden. Let family bonds never tie you down but let you wander free."

    "I...," she bit down on her tongue, not sure if she should speak her feelings, or to nod in respect, or to just...stare... They say the eyes are windows to a person's soul - they allow a person to literally read the heartfire of their owner. Felicia was a firm believer of that statement - it was one of the ways she managed to gain the trust and respect of adults in her village when she was far too young to interject into any adult business; let alone express who was speaking honestly. At this moment, she wasn't dealing with contract negotiations between horse owners and breeders, or ranchers and trainers.... Between those men, lies flew for a better sale. Matthias wasn't trying to sell anything to them there. He wasn't trying to gain more money in his pocket by buttering up the pedigree of his studs or fibbing on the health of his mares. There was nothing she could see that explained this man's behavior as false...and that only mixed her up even more. She wasn't sure she could believe what she felt, or what she saw in his eyes.

    "I'm not sure my father would agree about this - family connection you state we share," Felecia glanced over the faces surrounding, still scratching for clues. "I do, however, believe you're not a dishonorable gentleman. Therefore, I'm...curious... to understand."
  13. Cali couldn't help herself... she broke out into raucous laughter as her 'brother's' lips left her own, her hand gently waving in an obvious attempt to fan herself. It only took her a few moments for her to calm back down enough to talk," Well 'brother' if you are who you say you are than some people have explaining to do... The churches for one... My mother for the other. Not only does she get a new man the second pa dies, apparently she had a fling with the Earth mother to boot?" She tsks and shakes her head," Perish the thought that my mother might be so untrustworthy. The sarcasm in her voice is almost palpable, but she doesn't let up a bit.

    Her arms cross in a slightly defensive posture as she watches Mathias continue on to the giant beside her and then waits a little more as some of the others say their piece... when there is finally an opening," If, and that is a big gorram if, you're tellin' us the truth... then that would mean we were all demigods? Tha' hell? The only weird powers I got are a strong arm and the ability to drink any man under the table... If that's godly no wonder the 13 fell once already." She gave the man before her a healthy glare to emphasize her annoyance... and yet... Something tugged at the edge of her consciousness. That selfsame whisper that could tell her the breaking point of a blade, the perfect heat at which to bring her forge... that showed her flaws in metal. It was whispering to her now, as though it knew what this man was talking about...

    After another few moments she let out a long suffering sigh. When she was young and had ignored that inner voice she had often messed up on tools and blades, ending up with inferior, brittle works. No reason to ignore the feeling now either," Fine... I'll stay long enough to see what your about bub, but if you kiss me again you better be ready for the consequences." Cali's eyebrows wiggle suggestively at that before she continues," I don't have anything better to do anyways..."

    Taine had to stop himself from dropping to his knees once more... this time out of sheer astonishment rather than respect Mathias, god of mercy, informing him that he was one of the vaunted and powerful 13? Impossible... and yet he had to wonder. As a god Taine saw no reason for Mathias to lie to them... and if he was merely an imposter this was an exceptionally elaborate ruse to gather so many from such far reaching places. And once again, he could see no possible reason for someone to come up with such a ruse.

    He shook his head slowly, his mind reeling. He had been raised in a church, taught to respect the gods which this man now claimed Taine himself was one of. The people of his village had disliked him for his actions on behalf of the animals and the forest, and his odd jaunts into the darkest depths of the wood, but he had always found that he felt no greater comfort than when surrounded by the wild. When hearing the breath and voice of the trees and beasts. He trusted the honesty of nature above all other things and now he could feel the stirrings of something truly miraculous... the forest around them was rousing. The wind carrying the voice of its creatures to him with the gentleness of a whisper...

    "I welcome you back to the family eternal, my Wild brother...May you have and keep the freedom and respect of the forests themselves."

    The forest itself was rejoicing as if in welcome to a long lost brother, his name whispered on the winds and through the branches. His eyes watered and he looked around himself in awe... eventually he was able to turn back to Mathias and the others, his eyes wide. If what Mathais said was true... these were his family. His brothers and sisters. He smiled," Mathias... lord of redemption, I do not know if what you say is true but I can think of no reason for you to lie... and the forest itself seems to rejoice at this meeting. I will believe... for now."
    P.S. (open)
    Calida has a meanings along the lines of 'warm and beautiful' while Taine means something along the lines of 'Man; god of the forests'. Just a heads up in case I decide to mention their name meanings as being prophetic or otherwise give them some sort of importance. ^_^
    #13 Ferril, Jul 21, 2013
    Last edited: Jul 21, 2013
  14. Ynu tossed her hair, shifting impatiently as she examined her siblings. They were a motley bunch, that was for sure, especially for immortals. She would have denied it in an instant if it did not all feel so right. Dancer was not a title she had previously used, but coming from the lips of this Matthias, it sounded far better than princess or lady or emissary.

    And it was true, wasn't it? True that she never lost her balance, true that she could learn any new dance by just watching, true that she never so much as stumbled in conversation? She was her father's daughter, but she had always felt that she was more. Immortal level more? Perhaps not. But it was an intriguing enough idea that she would give him the benefit of the doubt. In any case, she didn't think her odds of finding her way home from this godforsaken corner of the wilderness was any good.

    "You're in the middle of nowhere," She informed Azaleh, tossing her hair. "So you might as well go along with this until we aren't, since you don't look any more prepared than I to embark on a journey. Besides, what if he's right? Do you really want to be the one spoil sport that doesn't become a demigod?" She smiled at him, trying to defuse the situation. "Don't tell me you've never done anything you can't explain."

    Matthias himself headed over to Felicia again, giving her a gentle smile and a look of absolute peace. "I think you will begin understanding soon," He theorized, glancing around. "Your flesh is from your human parents. Your soul was formed by the Earth mother. To what degree you will be transformed I know not yet, but this adventure had best begin soon. Mother has created thirteen steeds for us, an astral herd to transport us where we must go. Unfortunately she has hidden them in ways I do not understand. Will you do us all a favor and call them in a few hours? I don't know how, but I suspect you do. Listen, can you hear them? There's one with a lame leg. Hear how her hooves fall differently than the others. They're close enough to touch, if you know how to reach for them," The Savior murmured, watching her intently. "Do not call them now, but reach for them, feel them, know them. When the time comes you may need to be ready to summon them here at a moment's notice."
  15. Felicia

    After each had said their peace, the so called Matthias returned to her, speaking further about their makeup and how the Earth Mother favors them even now.

    "Mother has created thirteen steeds for us, an astral herd to transport us where we must go." Felicia almost bounced with excitement, for horses were the only creatures upon the earth she knew well - almost better than herself. But, what Matthias proposed to her about these particular blessings left for their use had taken her back a step.

    "Call upon them? Astral horses placed here by the Earth Mother herself; and I'm to call them?" It would not have been a silly request in her ears if he spoke of real horses present before them, for she's an excellent horse whisperer; but he spoke of spirited things of no earthly bind. How can she call upon what is not quite there? Obviously, her doubtfulness was showing, for he continued to almost coach her into such a task.

    "Listen, can you hear them? There's one with a lame leg. Hear how her hooves fall differently than the others." Not wanting to argue or retract her past statement about his trustworthiness, Felicia took a deep breath and listened sharply. The soft breeze swaying the trees into song was the most fluid voice she heard. It reminded her of running barefooted in the fallen leaves of Autumn just when the air became crisp and frost was up bright and early every morning. Felicia closed her eyes and began to sway to this sweet song, recalling a time once past, one she barely could recall, when the breeze played in her hair just like it does with the leaves. She giggled at the idea, and then, she heard something very familiar to her - and her heart skipped a beat. As The Savior's voice whispered in her ear, softly blending into the light hoof falls not too far away, she counted twelve very patient steeds munching on fresh grass nearby and the thirteenth hobbling slightly off-beat from the others. They were there! Not completely earth-bound, but prepared for so; they were just waiting to hear her call. And what astonished her even more than the fact of hearing them, was that she could sense each of their separate personalities, their thoughts....even their names...

    "They're there! I - I've found them all..." She wanted to ask how that was possible, but Matthias had already given her the answer to that.

    "Do not call them now, but reach for them, feel them, know them. When the time comes you may need to be ready to summon them here at a moment's notice." She nodded, smiling with a child-like wonder that held knowledge that was seeping out from whatever blocks were placed upon her immortal spirit. Something clicked...something was revealed, and Felicia began to awaken the more she listened to the voices of the herd.
    #15 Phi Chisym, Jul 23, 2013
    Last edited: Jul 23, 2013
  16. Xamantha listened to the young man's words with an impassive stare. Well, she had asked for answers and by god is he hadn't delivered. The thought that she might be an immortal god was both appealing to dwell on and terrifying in all the same moment. Watching as Matthias moved towards one of the other women that had found themselves brought to this place, bringing his lips to meet the dark skinned beauty's. Xam felt her skin crawl. This whole event was beginning to seem as though one man was trying much too hard to win the affections of a few too many women, as he moved to another, giving out another kiss. She felt herself tense as he then began towards her, wanting to see confimation in his face that he was just a man going too far with a silly game, or maybe a hint of madness. Something to give her the validation to punch in his pretty face.

    But she saw nothing. No sinister or sleazy motivations. No spark of madness in the wild whites of his eyes. Just the face of a man who truly believed in the words he spoke. He reached her, and there was a moment of hesitation between them before she too was given a kiss. It held nothing of desire or want in its brief touch. Just a simple welcome, one normally shared between those who knew all there was to know about the other. It felt odd, as she knew nothing of the man. Only that he claimed them all gods. A smile set into her lips, thinking more on his words as he went to each of them. She was good, but Immortal good? Could she really claim that? Whether it was true or not, playing along seemed to be the best way to get back home. There was still a war to be fought, after all.

    Cicero waited silently as each of them were given a title. A title that named them gods, an immortal family. There must have been some mistake in bringing him here. He was well removed from godliness, a blind beggar in tattered clothes, on his knees and humbled by those who spared him bread. A light touch settled on his shoulder, turning towards the man who spoke with honey in his voice. He didn't shy away from the closeness of the other, simply giving a broken smile in what he hoped was the direction of the voice. "I would very dearly love to join in your family, but I fear you must be mistaken." His voice was quiet, calm. One might even have said it was cold.

    "I am no immortal god reborn to this world. I am simply a man." He held his hands out before him, dirty and calloused, hands that had felt their way through the streets. "These are no hands of one worth the name of Prophet." And yet, even with his vocal rejection still hanging in the air, Cicero felt more grateful to this stranger than he had ever felt with those he claimed as family. In this brief moment, he had shown him more kindness than his own mother. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Matthias, and it warmed him to know that a god could accept him, even if it was directed at the wrong person.

    Simmon edged himself closer to the forest, watching warily as the blonde man made his rounds of everyone. This man was a loon, his mind probably having left him a long time ago. Fingers went searching for his hunting knife, but found nothing. No weapon to defend himself save his own fists. His face pulled into a tense frown, a warning in his fingertips as they flutter tapped his thigh. This man was coming too close. Only those he knew were ever allowed to be so near to him. He took a few steps away, but found the blonde simply came closer again. The kiss stunned him, eyes widening at the contact. Regaining himself, he jerked back, turning to face away from the man, his thumb working in a circle over his fingertips. No one had ever been so close to him, and despite the relatively harmless intentions, the brief connection had shaken him. Shaking his head lightly, Simmon walked past the first few trees and into the beginnings of the forest. This was just too much, and he wanted out.
    • Love Love x 1
  17. Chase had not walked the earth long, a handful of years at best. In that time he'd witnessed blood and healing, the rich and the poor, the inevitable dichotomy of the human condition. Men were salt and vinegar. Men were clay and stone. Sow them into the land and the land will die, leave them in one place for too long and they will spoil. Men could be manipulated, men could be broken on the backs of each other. In Chase's world, there were no happy endings where families embraced after years apart. Gods were the invention of the desperate and if it looked like you were kidnapped to the middle of a forest with a sun-touched prophet, you probably were.

    There was no magic. There was no hope. People breathed lies and consumed each other both metaphorically and literally.

    And every man was a mad god unto themselves, spinning universes of their own design and pressing it on the universes of others. Not a word he had said was acknowledged by anyone. This group of strangers was a melting pot of nationality and occupation, but mostly he recognized the sick smell of naivety. That guy called the Scholar, he had the right idea. The blonde bloke walking off into the forest was another. The rest, as far as Chase was concerned, were beyond reality's redemption.

    Like most other people, they had the doe-eyed or self-focused look of a mark on them. Any warmth he might have felt for these people had been roughly extinguished. They weren't his family. Families were outdated models built for dependence, and Chase felt no kinship for anyone but himself.

    "Right." he said, turning on his heel and following after Simmon, "I draw the line at magical spirit horses. You all have fun with the con, but I'm no one's mark and I'm not buying what he's selling." He jutted a thumb back at Matthias, "You're charming guy and I applaud what you've done here, but you don't have me spellbound with your wild stories. If you won't tell me where you dragged me, I'll find my own way back." Jogging, he caught up with Simmon.

    "You look like you're more accustomed to travel under trees than I am. Let's get back to civilization and grab a brew at the nearest inn, my treat."
  18. With a small smile at Felicia, Matthias wandered over to Cicero, confidence unshaken and no trace of doubt or indecision on his person. He reached out and took his blind brothers hands, kissing his fingertips without the slightest bit of concern for what might be found there. "You will see," The Savior replied enigmatically, choosing not to clarify on the double meaning.
    That done he turned towards Chase and Simmon, still not swayed but a slight frown of irritation on his face. "Leave now and you will walk in circles," He threatened. "And find yourselves back in this clearing, no matter what you do. Follow me if you wish to see some... evidence. All of you, in fact, should follow me. It isn't far from here that our Mother has a physical conduit."
    With that he set off through the woods at an easy pace. Though he wore little to cover his body not a scratch appeared on him; somehow the myriad branches and twigs would not dare scrape his body. That alone would not have been enough to prove his godlike status, and when he stopped suddenly in front of a large oak tree, he was certain they all thought him insane. At least, until he found a sharpened stick and drew it across the palm of his hand. For a moment the blood welled, then he tipped over his hand and let it pour onto the roots of the tree.
    Instantly a great presence could be felt, a force stronger than a thunderstorm or avalanche, though of a certain similarity. The whole forest seemed to hold its breath, before a sound like no other pierced the air, and from the trunk of the tree a face formed. She was not a lovely goddess, but wild and fierce and motherly and filled with hate all at the same time.
    "She is mute in this form, imperfect as it is, but real enough. Do you still doubt?"
    Such a release of power would surely draw in the red figures like nothing else, but the loss of the tree was a small enough thing, and it would let the twelve know of their enemy- and their Mother. Of the two he wasn't certain which was more important, and judging by the look of supreme irritation on Her face, neither was she.
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