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Post by Eto on Mar 7, 2016 1:31:51 GMT
Eto pulled up to the parking lot outside of the memorial he'd been directed too. It looked like many other's he'd seen, simple spacious, free of the taint of war. The trip down the trail was easy enough for the vampire, nothing harassed him, or gave him any problems. He felt strangely at peace, and that brought his hands down to the hilts of his jeweled scimitars. His supple leather boots made not a sound as he approached the Memorial itself, his ruby eyes glancing around for whomever the little one was. Amy had not to his knowledge lied to him yet, had not led him into a trap (that was her husband) and she had tried to educate him in their customs.
Taking a seat at one of the benches, the fiery haired vampire wove his fingers together and waited, eyes and ears open for signs of any type of life, or unlife as it were. While he'd made his first appointment of the evening, it had not gone particularly well. He hoped, at least for a time that the second meeting would be a far smoother, and infinitely less courtly than the first.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 7, 2016 1:42:42 GMT
The peace and happiness continued to flow freely across the clearing, and as soon as he sat down, he'd be able to hear the light music coming from the headstone. The violin played a cheerful tune, and accompanying it was laughter, a mix of male and female. A girl, voice youthful, tried to sing along, but it was obvious that her voice was not her gift. She sounded rough, gravelly.
Still, it was a happy, fun moment. If he looked, he'd see their outlines. Killy stood significantly taller than his wife, her head barely coming up to his clavicle. A violin rested against his chin and they danced together, an old, Irish dance. Their feet barely seemed to touch the ground.
Inuko was, quite obviously, the little one. Not even five feet in height, she bounded around like a child. Her hair was cropped short around her face this time, dyed an obnoxious cherry blossom pink. Yet, her age was obvious in her face: her glowing, golden eyes knew far too much. Whiskers adorned her cheeks and her ears gnarled upwards, bending and twisting like the roots of an old oak tree. She clapped along with the tune her husband played, seeming oblivious to the man. At least until he made a noise.
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Post by Eto on Mar 7, 2016 3:17:03 GMT
Eto sat on that bench, watching the little creature dance, his ruby eyes tracking her every movement. He remained silent there for a long time studying her, a least he assumed it was a her. Seconds ticked by into minutes and still he did not move. Their happiness was a pleasure to observe, it brought back no memories for him. The fiery haired fighter looked as still as a statue, if it weren't for the breeze blowing his hair and cloak this way and that, it would have been almost impossible to tell. At last, he moved very slightly, tilting his head to one side. That was all it took.
The vertebrae snapped with a loud 'Pop!'. If it weren't for the fact that the glade was so quiet, it would have been an almost silent pop, but to well trained ears, it would almost echo. Those glowing ruby eyes remained on the pair of ghosts, regardless of their actions. He'd seen many in his time, but those he had seen and met were always haunted, wicked beings. These two people seemed to simply enjoy one another's company as if there was no one else in the world. That was how he wanted to spend eternity, not necessarily in the arms of another, but happy. A gentle smile touched his too young lips. The Assamite was touched.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 7, 2016 3:59:34 GMT
The sound of the pop should have startled the couple, but they continued their time together for a moment before either bothered to pay any attention to the Assamite that had joined their little party. It was Killy that looked up first, his ruby gaze meeting that of the stranger's. He knew, intimately, that his wife was aware of his existence, possibly even before the Veil was lifted. She seemed to be aware of everything that happened, no matter if it was in the Shadowlands or the Skinlands. How she managed to maintain her perception, he might never know. He offered the Assamite a nod of recognition but did not bother to stop playing his music.
Inuko pushed herself up onto her toes to press a soft, delicate kiss upon the freckled cheek of her husband, then turned to greet the person who had come into their home. Despite the recognition that flashed across her golden gaze, there was no anger nor hostility. Eto had picked the perfect time to come visit the two Gangrel. Her nostrils flared, making her whiskers twitch in the silver moonlight, but a soft smile touched her lips. So this was the man Octavian had told her about.
She began to move towards him, each step careful and light, even though she knew she could not disturb the grass. Her feet were bare, so he could watch as she placed her toes and the balls of her feet against the ground, but her heels remained arched and high. It was nearly impossible for her to approach somebody and it not to seem like she meant to do them any harm, but her claws were put away, and her head tilted to one side curiously. As the soft melody of the violin continued through the air, her approach turned into a dance, body swaying.
One hand extended towards the man. She almost expected him to reject it and turn her away, and if he did, she would return contentedly to the side of her husband. If he tried to take it, however, he would find smooth, solid skin beneath his fingers, as if she were still alive. She would pull him back towards her husband and dance with him, keeping his hand but not bothering to dance any closer to him than she had to. It was all up to Eto.
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Post by Eto on Mar 9, 2016 0:00:50 GMT
The fiery haired vampire continued his detached observation until the male met his gaze. They both shared the same curse. Two sets of ruby eyes would meet one another, and Eto would return the nod. It was odd watching the violinist. He knew the chords, the tones and the medley. He knew how and why his fingers were placed on the delicate looking instrument. But he simply couldn't put it all together, couldn't reason why the music, the very area seemed so happy. It wasn't until the other one, the golden eyed one moved that he rose.
The breeze whipped his cloak back and out behind him, and he looked just as regal as he had when he was human. He didn't wait for her, he moved as she did, her animal movements the perfect opposite to his studied, practiced and perfected step. Her natural movements, his mechanical and precise movements. While the similarities in their result were the same, the contrast astounding.
Her extended hand was met with his own, a barely perceptible nod from him just as she began to guide him toward his brother in tragedy. He danced, he stepped and moved with the grace and elegance that he had acquired over his two centuries with the pair, careful to keep his steps and his position comfortable, and far from intimate. A slow smile spread across his delicate alabaster features. Why it felt so good to move with them, to share in their joy made little sense to the fiery eyed Italian. Instead of taking it apart, instead of breaking all the information down in his largely mechanical mind, he simply enjoyed it, savoring in the happiness he so rarely experienced.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 9, 2016 0:17:00 GMT
His hand was warm against hers, undead and yet still alive in a way that she would never be again. He allowed her to lead him back across the clearing, and staring at him like she did, she knew she should hate him. She wanted to, in her own way. He was an Assamite, and he had something that she wanted. Desperately. He was the exact kind of person that she had always wanted to kill... So why was she happy dancing with him like she was?
Killy continued his music until the song ended, watching the two. His wife seemed to relax the longer they moved, her smile eventually returning to her lips as she moved, spinning and stepping. Every step had a natural sort of grace as she bent, her hips completely in her control. As the song came to a close, slowly dying down, her movements finally stopped, and she turned to face the Italian. A brow cocked over one eye, but she looked relaxed as she stepped back. Killy lowered his violin, wrapping both of his arms around his wife.
When she did speak, it was in flawless Italian, as if it were her natural language. "Greetings, Etonis Vadia," she purred in that foreign language. She tilted her head to one side, wondering who it was that had finally sent him her way. Had the Golden Boy decided to put her anger and rage to the test? No. That didn't seem like something Octavian would do. Then who? "Welcome to my home." The redhead squeezed his arms, wrapped around her waist, and she took a moment to look up at him. "Be nice," he mouthed, leaned down to place a kiss on her nose. She wrinkled it, chuckling, and looked back at Eto, waiting for his response.
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Post by Eto on Mar 9, 2016 0:32:37 GMT
Eto would step back politely, offering them both a grateful nod. Ruby eyes studying them at last as a pair, their grace and comfort in one another was astounding to him, his smile only widened a bit. He looked exactly like he had for centuries, almost childlike, the smile on his lips bringing that fact to light almost painfully. Neither of their existence bothered him, but her use of his language surprised him. Perhaps like everyone else related to the oddly titled prince, she was somehow informed of far more than he'd cared to share with almost everyone.
He responded to her, much to his surprise in exactly that same perfect Italian. Without the normal use of his many accents and dialects. "It is truly a pleasure." He nodded respectfully to them both, not missing the male's mouthed words. "You have me at a disadvantage, you know of my identity, yet I am completely in the dark as to your own." It was odd to him, it had been for centuries that everyone seemed to ask his name or know his identity before offering their own. Especially when they were in his home. He put that thought to the back of his mind as he maintained eye contact with the golden eyed female.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 9, 2016 2:02:13 GMT
As Eto responded in that same perfect Italian, the Irishman realized he would not be privy to this conversation. It didn't bother him as much as it probably should have. His wife had a natural flair for languages, and once she learned one, she was able to perfectly mimic the accent that came with it. When she spoke to somebody in their native language, he would tune them out and allow his mind to drift to other things. Death had not changed that.
Inuko was smiling, a soft sort of smile, as she swayed her hips from side to side. Her husband obligatorily followed her motions, but it was obvious that he wasn't paying much attention any longer as they continued their conversation in Italian. "The advantage tends to come when you're dead. Well, twice-dead anyways. I am Inuko Locke, and this is my husband, Killy. You can call me Nuko if I can call you Eto."
She couldn't figure out why she was being so nice to this Assamite. Maybe he had found her at just the right time, on just the right night. Her hostility was completely gone from her shoulders and her voice. She was even smiling.
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Post by Eto on Mar 9, 2016 3:47:37 GMT
Eto noted quietly the strange way Killy seemed to respond to he and Nuko speaking. Was it jealousy or something else? Then it dawned on him. How many people could actually speak Italian in Japan? He smiled a bit more at that thought. "It is a pleasure to meet you Nuko. The oddly titled prince sent me down here." He admitted openly tilting his head a bit. "I have problems understanding her, but you sound as if you know more about this Nichiya and eastern monster problem than she does." He shrugged a bit looking her over once more.
She looked mostly beast, yet acted with dignity, honor. His head tilted to the side a bit curiously as he decided to ask. "Excuse my ignorance of the subject, but why do you have whiskers?" Genuine ignorance obvious all over his face. He hadn't seen any Gangrel yet, having only been around for long enough to study a bit with the oddly titled prince, and deal with the beasts she now had eating at her table.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 9, 2016 5:49:30 GMT
Surprise crossed her features, golden eyes widening as her brows rose to her hairline. Since her death, it had been easy to forget about her whiskers; she didn't need to think about them every night in an effort to uphold the Masquerade. The only people that saw her were the ones that came to her grave-site. Her fingers rose and delicately brushed along the silver hairs that protruded from her cheeks, almost affectionately. "Octavian wasn't lying when he said you didn't know much about your own kind, was he?" Her voice had changed, at least for a moment, back to English.
She chuckled, an amused noise with no hostility. She untangled herself from her husband's arm, who looked down at her to make sure she was okay. She raised a hand, giving a little wiggle of her fingers in an effort to calm his nerves. She wasn't exactly the most welcoming person, most of the time. He snickered at her, reaching a hand out to lightly tap her shoulder, letting her wander back off towards the benches.
"Come on, sit with me. Maybe I can help you figure out a few things."
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Post by Eto on Mar 9, 2016 20:18:14 GMT
Eto nodded to the wiskered female and followed behind her over to one of the more comfortable sets of benches. Nuko seemed to be a creature he could get along with and found that despite himself, he was growing rather fond of the golden eyed ghost. When she sat he would follow, polite as always.
"Your city here amazes me. The oddly titled prince holds sway, is as far as I'm aware, granted the powers of a dictator, and holds this city in an iron fist, yet the vampires here live in a relative harmony." He paused looking over the woodlands. Contemplation obvious in his glowing ruby eyes.
"And here I sit, a vampire, a killer and mercenary, and I am reasonably welcomed. I'm called an Assamite, and looked down upon fairly frequently." He paused as a sheepish smile touched his soft features. "That may also be because I inferred that the oddly titled prince was little more than a whore when I met her." Hindsight was always twenty twenty.
"I have known war and violence for more than two centuries across Europe, Asia and Africa. Yet here I am, further away from home than I've ever been, and even during wartime, I am more at peace here." He sighed, gazing into those golden eyes.
"The demons whom I am more familiar with than my own kind are welcome here, Don is a wonderful companion. And everything seems perfectly in place... Except for me." He sighed softly. "I can defend the kind hearted fledgling, yet he can't learn to weild the scimitars. They are not his weapons. The oddly titled prince finds this to be my fault. She protects him, shielding him from what we are... Yet it hurts them both. Octavian's youth will soon fade and he will be as the others..." Eto shook his head a bit.
"And lastly we have these Eastern Monsters, Nichiya, and his men. And they have to be stopped as well." He sighed again. "My blades can find no free bite in that sorcerer. So the oddly titled prince set me here. To you, to learn and train." Those ruby eyes turned to meet hers once more.
"Perhaps we can come to some equitable arangement?" He asked, hoping the bluntness of his statement didn't somehow garnish his standing withun the golden eyes of Nuko.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 9, 2016 20:42:41 GMT
As they made it to the benches, Inuko jumped up to the seat, crouching comfortably. She rested her arms on her knees, looking over to the Assamite as he spoke. Her husband hadn't followed her and there was a bit of tension in her shoulders, an unfamiliarity at the emptiness she felt. It was a rare thing, indeed, whenever she wasn't wrapped in the arms of the man she had spent so long with. Her head tilted to one side, still, and she listened to the story he had to tell. She even chuckled low and amused as he admitted to accusing Amy of being a whore.
"A few things, first. Amy is always going to defend Octavian. Little Mister Golden Boy? Can do no wrong. It's just a thing that you have to come to accept. Took me a while, too. Second... Why do you call her that? The oddly titled Prince... What does that even mean?" She somehow managed to keep hostility at bay as she laughed. She should have been offended, but he had danced with her. That won him something. At least with the Gangrel wraith.
She pushed herself up a bit to sit on the back rest of the bench, looking out over the little clearing that she claimed as her own personal territory. "Lastly. There isn't really anything that you can offer me. Amy sent you here for a reason... You're hanging out with me. You danced with me. And Killy? He likes playing for people. So what can you offer me more than that?"
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Post by Eto on Mar 9, 2016 20:54:34 GMT
Eto nodded, quite happy that she had infact listened, her questions were reasonable and intelligent. That sheepish smile returned to his face as he spoke of the oddly titled prince. "Where I come from, there is no Camarilla or Sabot, there are only vampires, and we don't much get along. Regardless, Prince is a title given to a male of nobility, and Amy, is most decidedly female. It is just an oddity, and calling her anything else feels alien to me." He shrugged a bit.
"I would do whatever it was you needed Nuko. I was not speaking materialistically, more, how do you say..?" He spun his hand in circles, searching for the proper word. "Boon." He snapped his fingers. "I would owe you and yours." He concluded turning back towards Killy.
"As for Octavian. I don't know what more I can do for the chap." He smiled toward Nuko, a sort of pain on his face. "I've only ever seen tragedy when one so young becomes besotted with one so old. I feel for them both, and wish them the best. Yet they cannot see the folly of their ways." It was quite obvious when he was upset, not angry, but upset. His vernacular shifted to something far older than his immutable would ever express.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 9, 2016 21:18:29 GMT
As he tried to explain traditional gender roles, Nuko tossed her head back in merry laughter. She was about the same age as Eto, even if she couldn't tell that from just looking at him, but she had very obviously adjusted to the world around them far more successfully. She was used to this world. She knew the Camarilla and the Sabbat, she knew the Traditions. "Oookay. That works." She gave him a little shrug and let him continue.
She didn't interrupt again until he was done, even if she lightly stroked her chin at the idea of a boon. She wasn't certain what he could possibly give her, what she would want from him, but it was always good to have a boon. He moved on to Octavian and she let him, her mind traveling with the conversation. How interesting.
"Look, man. They aren't going to. Love is dumb, deaf, blind, and stupid." Nuko shrugged, still chuckling to herself. "But I doubt you came all this way just to hear me explain the ignorance of infatuation. You said something about Nichiya?"
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Post by Eto on Mar 9, 2016 22:00:01 GMT
The soft smile turned into a sort of frown as the subject changed to the Eastern Monster. "He leads the enemy as far as I can tell, he used sorcery to defeat the vampire side of me, and to top it all off, he wounded Finn fairly badly." Eto shook his head a bit from side to side, fiery hair whipping back and forth.
"He seemed to recoil when I was human..." He shrugged a bit. "As if the very idea of harming me was terrifying." Those ruby eyes turned to survey the glade, somehow perceptive of some of the more minute details. "Until I moved him, I couldn't even hit him... He fights like a coward, behind magic and walls." Eto growled a bit, ruby eyes flashing angrily at the memory.
"I do not have the understanding to combat sorcery..." He sighed softly, tilting his head back. "Soldiers and warriors I can fight. Sorcerers deserve to have their tongues and hands cut off and left to the sun." There was no denying the bitterness in his voice, though where it was directed, whether at Nichiya or himself was left to interpretation.
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