Tonight, Maria joins the Hunt

[whomthebelltolls]

Name: Lady Maria
Date: Auguril 15th - Evening
Format: Video

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[The view opens up to Maria's face, the face of the giant clocktower in the back drop. She's sitting on a ledge on the outside of the building, one leg dangling off the edge, the other foot planted on the worn stone back of a screaming panther-eagle gargoyle. The sky, and the tower are awash with the the deep pinks and purples of the nearly-set sun. Maria herself is wearing her full hunter's outfit, her hat pulled low to shield her eyes against the sunset, but in truth it just makes her eyes seem that much brighter blue. The only oddity in her attire is that she seems to have several sunflowers tucked into her belt, around the holsters for her gun and sword sheath.

The mechanisms in the tower grind and move, and the big minute hand tocks heavily, thunking into place in the next minute slot before Maria speaks. It's almost the top of the hour.]

It has been several months, since the first of us arrived here. Life... is not made easy within this place. Not for anyone, even those of us who might be in better straits than at home. This may be the worst night yet, and we still have many more moons to come, I fear, before any of us are allowed from this place. [This, however, may very well be Maria's own last. She feels the way the headache swells and throbs behind her eyes, the pressure fit to make her burst at the seams. It ebbs and flows, depending on what she does with the Monsters, how she uses her magic, the potions and the herbs and the other stalling tactics, but she's not sure how much longer she can keep on like this. Tonight, blissfully, the pain is at its least - the full moon being the weakest pull of the mirrorbound Witches is keeping things to a dull roar at the back of her skull. For several seconds, she looks back out over the city, scanning the shapes and the shadows, watching people shutter their windows and close their doors.]

On this night, the instincts for the Monsters will be at their worst. If the pull is too strong, and you feel your mind slipping into the madness and chaos of beasthood, seek the scent of... [Lumenflowers... no,] sunflowers. They will lead you to me. I will make it as swift as you will allow me; but it may be most silent if I must seek you out. [This is exactly the threat that it seems to be.]

If the beasts loom large, and threaten to devour you, or crush you, seek me out, as well. Monster, witch, human or not, it matters not to me; it is the threat of the feral I am in search of. [Pause.] As for the rest of you... I hope you do not see me.

[Her foot shifts, and she stands, precarious though the ledge is. The terrifying drop seems to not bother her at all. The shadows deepen on her face as the sky turns a richer purple-blue, the sun setting rapidly now, though it's barely been a minute. Soon, the video cuts to black, but there's still audio in the background; a rustle of wind and cloth. Finally, there's a whirring as the clock begins to turn over again.]

The night, and the hunt are always so very long. I pray we all live to see the morning sun, and put this night behind us.

[Tock. The video cuts out as the first peal of the hourly bells sounds. Over the city, the clocktower chimes eight, and the sun slips fully below the horizon.]

Comments

Voice

[whomthebelltolls]

A Bond? No, but I will think upon that other offer. The only issue is that Witches are more difficult to predict than Monsters. However...

[She squeezes her eyes shut.]

... It will not be too terribly long. I had planned to find myself in the Wilde before then - I will spare the town the destruction, they have other things to worry about. However... that may yet be easier.

voice

[boneofsword]

[Archer can't stop a light groan. Sorry, he's had it with heroic sacrifice, including his own. Given that his Bonded has similar attitude it's not too surprising. When he replies he sounds very matter-of-fact, nothing derisive nor sarcastic in his tone.]

I thought you were more pragmatic about survival and less into heroic death.

[He exhales a breath, thinking of possible choices that won't end bloody or explode in their faces.]

Bonding to a Witch is a possibility if you'd rather avoid the monsters.

voice

[whomthebelltolls]

Heroic? I see nothing heroic about such a death. The only thing heroic would be sparing the civilians the effects of the explosion. A heroic death is dying fighting the Cwyld. A heroic death is sacrifice for what you see as good. I am far from pondering a heroic death - I'm merely returning to the way it should be.

[She sounds... so annoyed by his observation. Oops.]

If you want to stop a heroic death, go speak to those trying to stop me.

voice

[boneofsword]

[Her annoyance is telling, as is her choice of words. It's something else that catches his attention to the point he actually wagers a guess.]

Is it because you already died?

[It's neither curiosity nor outrage. Archer is way too familiar with the concept and it definitely shows in the tone of his voice.]

voice

[whomthebelltolls]

[She pauses a moment, taking a breath to stave off the annoyance. Her voice is back to its usual crust of ice and little more in short enough order.] And even that did nothing to let me rest. My life was forfeit long before I came here, it matters not what happens to me now.

[And that makes it very easy to prioritize her secrets, her privacy, and her opinions over Bonding.]

voice

[boneofsword]

[Archer keeps silent for a moment too long.]

Not every dead can rest peacefully. Sometimes fate hands another duty and expects them to fulfill it.

[whomthebelltolls]

I can't imagine what a cursed soul like myself could be useful for, but to torment for longer. [There's a very distinct amount of bitterness to what she says, under that usually cold tone.]

[boneofsword]

[Archer chuckles quietly. It's full of bitterness and dark, gaining an edge. This time it colors his voice when he answers.]

For some of us it's a short reprieve, a second chance to do what's right. Who will care if we find peace of mind here, or someone worth fighting for.

[whomthebelltolls]

[Derisive snort? Derisive snort. Unladylike as it may be.] Yes, for some of you. [Her secret being so bad she would be willing to kill - or die - for it means she's not going to go further into it, but her thoughts are whirling around that. A second chance is the exact opposite of what the Fishing Hamlet villagers would want for her. They didn't want her to atone. They wanted her, and all her fellows, to suffer, and maybe she had earned that much. There was no forgiveness; and there probably shouldn't have been.]

I am not "some of you".

[boneofsword]

[It's Archer turn to snort. His voice is cold and bitter, turning hollow. His own history may be pale in comparision, but the eternity spent on murder is enough to turn the sanest person into a hollow shell.]

You are dead like me, and bound to serve until the fate decides it's been enough. It's cruel and fickle, taking its amusement in forcing us above and beyond our limits.

[He's got at least a century of his own experience.]

Moments like these happen only when something else interferes.

[whomthebelltolls]

No, this is not yet so kind. When the Hunter came to divest myself and the Nightmare of its secrets, and slayed me... I could feel the shackles slipping loose. I could feel myself be free, and perhaps finally be rid of that Nightmare.

And now I end up in a place where people marry Beasts instead of hunt them. Fate isn't done with me, yet, this is just another step on the cruel cycle. [She has a different way of looking at it. One that really just makes her tone stay cold and sour.]

[boneofsword]

Perhaps this is the reason fate isn't done with you yet. [Archer muses, his voice turning thoughtful.] If all you know are Beasts that never regain their sanity, it's intent on showing you the ones who do.

Perhaps it's a matter of the outward appearance and discrepancy between the beastly appearance and the true heart of the Beast. To see if the true Beast isn't hiding in human skin.

Can you make such disctinction, Huntress?

[It's a guess based on her words, a risky one when all her intent is on the path she's choosen for herself.]

[whomthebelltolls]

And to what end? After I have already been tormented for so long? To have some measure of understanding before oblivion finally takes hold? [She doesn't get it, and maybe she never will.] The true beast was always hiding in human skin. The Blood merely brought it to the surface. What else do you think they were back home?

Humans are dangerous animals, same as any other. Cursed by beastly stupidity, but an even greater curse of curiosity.

[boneofsword]

No. [Archer's words cut like a sharp blade.]

In your world the appearance of beast equals the beast's heart. Here it's not always the case.

[whomthebelltolls]

[Either way, she doesn't flinch - not that it would be obvious, considering she's gone down to audio only for her replies, but there's no sign of it.

There's an argument that springs to her tongue about then should these Beasts not be even more dangerous than the ones back home? Because they're melding man - human, the most dangerous and violent animal there is - with the claws and feral nature of other beasts, and creating little more than a creature that exists as only the worst parts of man and beast combined.

She won't say that, though. She won't say much of anything.] Regardless, all things have potential to be dangerous. It will not sway my opinion, nor my actions.

[boneofsword]

[Surprisingly her words make Archer chuckle, a hint of real amusement audible. He's not laughing at her, though; her words resonate with some of his own beliefs.]

Everything has the potential to become a weapon. The only disctinction is how we use it.

[a pause. Archer's tone turns serious, all levity fading.]

I'd like to hear more about your world someday, if you won't mind.

[whomthebelltolls]

Yes. Perhaps some day, if the conversation turns that way, we can speak about it. Until then? [She has something she wants to do. Like take a nice long walk.]

[boneofsword]

Yes, until then.

I wish you a good hunt.