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This world is crying.
With every second that passes- every moment missed, this world continues to suffer. Had it's inhabitants known of they pain they caused? Of course they wouldn't, they were too selfish to think about others; only their peace, harmony, and togetherness. In some part though, they couldn't be blamed could they? Insects could only concern themselves with insect matters; they weren't capable of contributing to or even fathoming the bigger picture. That's why it took they, the Gaiyans, to make the decisions they - the insects, couldn't.--
But as of recent, they've grown soft. Weak. Unreliable. Incapable.
They knew that Sin was a blight upon the world, seeping it's lifeforce with every waking moment yet what did they do? Open their hearts to the Eldritch, open their doors to humanity, and their arms to Outworlders. They didn't quell Sin, they swept it under the rug. They determined Sin to be a necessity, but to whom? To Vyldermire, or to themselves?
Why was it all but the former that seemed to have a voice in the matter? Nobody thought to ask the world if it wanted sin. Nobody thought to consider the harm it endured as it's grass was ripped, it's trees were butchered, and it's lifeforce continuously siphoned all for personal gain!......
The Angels thought them a fool. Labelled them a traitor, banished them from the sacred heavens for possessing the willpower to take the leap they themselves weren't willing to do!-- The Angels were false protectors in reality. They were willing to protect Vyldermire but not risk their morality to save it; to cleanse it. To use their power for something beyond their day to day, their jobs, or even their own lives.
Wyatt was different.
They were willing to descend into the darkest depths and embrace the filthiest of sins to save the prettiest girl of all. No one captured her beauty, not a bit of it, and for it they'd set it all on fire. Vyldemire needed a restart, a refresh, a chance to get history on the right track. Vyldermire's greatest protectors failed at protecting. This world has been lost to sin. It was only right that as it's protector they do the right thing and set that course correct! Anyone who thought as logically as they did would make these same decisions. It was for the betterment of their world! Why couldn't they see that?!
Perhaps now though, it was too late to be asking those kind of questions.
"MMMF! MMF! MMMMMF!",
In the darkness of night, Wyatt sat atop a high rooftop in the industrial metropolis. Today they were engaging in a bit of mental reinforcement training - a refresher if you will, and the currently bound human wriggling in rope was their guest of honor. The rooftop wasn't the widest, however, it had enough space where a fair amount of movement could take place; the perfect setting for tonight's festivities. "Today, we're going to test resolve; both my own and that of another participant. Who that may be is currently unknown.", squatting down, they removed a jagged-edged knife and lifted the right elbow of their hostage. Inserting a deep yet messy into it while taking care to not cut through the entire thing.
As a reaction to the pained cries being muffled out, Wyatt shot a repulsed expression "Do you realize how little your cries sound compared to the wailing I've heard for years?! You're sharing a fraction of the pain Vyldermire has felt on your accord! Be thankful you aren't going to die from it". Picking themselves up, they took a few steps back to get a running start as they whispered to themselves a silent prayer.
"Dearest Vyldermire, your truest Knight has begun their journey! With this I cement to thee my oath; salvation by any means necessary".
Running at the individual, Wyatt delivered a brutal punt kick to their temple to knock them out as they fixed their suit upon landing. "Now, who to assist with tonight's proceedings"? Making their way off the rooftop, they headed down the flight of stairs on the side of the building and in to the city; walking the streets in search of any likely contenders.
"Long live Vyldermire".
A young woman with silvery hair sauntered down the walk, an aimless smile gracing her warm countenance. Two people, quite enamored with each other and mirthful over something they had seen while scrolling through a brightly lit phone, walked past the mousy, quiet pedestrian in giggles, and in the cozy coffee shop sandwiched between two other buildings played a peaceful jazzy tune, a song that echoed resonantly into the night.
The music was beautiful and the smell was enticing to both the ears and the stomach. As she was considering passing through the open door of the little coffee shop a thought stopped her from entering right away. The same girl from before had not yet come in until she was sure she had the proper currency in her possession. Like magic, a modest pile formed on the palm of her hand.
She was looking rather tickled now, as with large brown eyes she looked for the vast display of baked goods that teased her only minutes ago. The scent of freshly made chocolate chip cookies won her over quickly and in a flash, she ordered a hearty bag of them. Not wanting to consume such wonderful edibles dry, she added to her request a warm cup of lightly sweetened french vanilla; just a little something to wash the yummy stuff down with.
The woman taking her order was a mother of two, very beautiful in a haggard sort of way yet so worn from having to work three jobs, spoke merrily to the mute genie -- just as one would a very close friend. She talked openly about her life, her children, and their usual choices when it came to the sugary treats sitting in neat rows behind the glass.
The quietest customer in the shop, touched by her hospitality and determining this to have possibly been the nicest interaction she had the pleasure of being a part of, tipped the surprised cashier generously and thanked her with the utmost sincerity before taking her leave. Ever since the otherworlder’s banishment to this strange and wondrous reality, she had discovered through trial and error that it was best to communicate as minimally and as scarcely as possible. But Karimah had rather hoped that she would have more time to spend with her children with the mortal's early retirement.
She caught herself wishing she could talk more to that pleasant woman. Once or twice she thought of going back to her. At last, she turned around to see the human named ‘Sarah’ at the coffee shop, and in her view was not the cashier seeking her out; rather, it was more like a different set of faces promenading the streets. Karimah imagined how odd she must have appeared waiting for her and sadly averted her gaze when she considered things within that point of view.
It was true; she yearned for a little companionship of the purely platonic kind. Before the kind mother could find her, the embarrassed genie took it upon herself to wander further away from the little shop with her cookies and luke-warm drink, as any normal person would.
She took a small bite out of the first cookie. Her eyes met with the other two, snug in the white bag. In them was a wistful desire. She wished she had a friend to actually share these with. Just as the roads became clearer and clearer, she discovered a much taller person in the distance. The aforementioned figure seemed to have dressed rather sharply for someone attending a potential business meeting. But why so late? She raised a dark eyebrow and tilted her head in a manner that was contemplative and curious.
Word Count; 613
made bycapt. meows
made bycapt. meows
When it came to these proceedings, there were variables that spared no substitute as they required specific levels of emotion to be tested in their entirety. Perish the thought that Wyatt would happen upon someone mistakenly - no, every encounter was calculated. Whomever it was they chose, they needed to possess a level of empathy found only in the sweetest of souls. They needed a pure, untainted diamond who danced as the wolf amidst sinful haystack of sheep. They needed one with a voice as gentle as their touch. A malleable lump of flesh-textured clay ready to be molded by their wills and desires.-- Then, they saw her...A young, silvery haired woman, sauntering down the walk.
She could be the one. She could be perfection. But they couldn't be sure. They needed more data on her, she needed to be observed. -- So, they watched. They watched as she counted her change before entering the little jazz cafe. They watched, as she lovingly took in the "sweet scent" of and ordered the chocolate chip cookies which they found repulsing. They watched as she interacted with a woman Wyatt had already known yet never met, laughing and smiling along side her as if they were present during her conversation.
Yes, there was no denying it now. After spending time with her and getting to know her some, she was the perfect candidate for tonight's events. Had they any emotion left, they'd be bewitched by her beauty both inside and out - however, they were not the man they once used to be. Wyatt had no empathy left for others, their only concern was their beloved Vyldermire for whom they would do anything for; no matter the task. Their modus operandi aside, they nor their focus ever life Karimah's side for the duration of her visit; closely studying every muscle that moved on her person. And after she'd begun to get up to leave, Wyatt slipped out undetected; positioning themselves further down the street, just within the corner of her peripheral so she'd catch them immediately.
The plan worked flawlessly. As she'd noticed them, they'd noticed her. They needn't speak any words nor exchange any further passing glances. Wyatt had their sights set on a variable they - under no circumstances, were willing to sacrifice. Slowly approaching her, Wyatt casually got her attention "Excuse me, ma'am?", their voice was soft yet sharp, "I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere? I can't help but feel like we've met".
The angelic personage who walked into view wore a leisurely stride with bright eyes, flaxen-colored hair and such angular features. There was, needless to say, some congeniality purveyed over that handsome visage, but it was an unanticipated question that left their lips and it quite tickled her to think she resembled a friendly face in another person’s life. What a wonderful thing. “I - I don’t think so?” She was very positive of that given answer, nevertheless, the gentleness in her voice played a different melody and seemed to invite the brief conversation she was suddenly glad for. “You were reminded of a friend,” she spoke a touch softly as she progressed to a light-hearted point, “when you saw me,” she cleared her throat delicately and sprinkled her words with a dash of playful uncertainty, “maybe?”
“If that isn’t the case,” resumed the genie, after a fresh silence which she didn’t care to prolong, “then I’m so sorry.” She averted her gaze and effortlessly proffered them the small pouch of cookies with a good-natured sigh, believing she must have resembled an unpleasant ghost from their past.
“A little sugar to ward off the bitterness,” she cooed warmly, “if only for a little while.” She looked to the sidewalk floor and smiled faintly before allowing her eyes to meet the stranger’s gaze.
Karimah, neither forgetful of her private vow to speak less of herself for good reason, and taking a quick, quiet sip of her drink, advanced closer to the fellow with the same bag in her hand, which she offered earlier hoping they wouldn’t reject her parting gift. The cookies were individually wrapped, beautifully fragrant, and seemed to have been freshly made. She would keep just one, and give them the rest if they so accepted. A light breeze tugged at her silvery hair as she silently felt concern for the crumbs falling upon her pink blouse or even, less likely, the blue skirt that stopped to her knees. Oh, she didn’t even take a second bite out of her snack yet and here she was fretting over something as miniscule as a crumb. Not a blemish in sight she mentally noted, and tilted her head in the same manner as before appearing thoughtful.
“I - I really should get going,” she said, the mellow smile never failing to meet her countenance, “Listen, It was so nice to meet you. Take care of yourself, hm?” She had all the time in the world, she had no true responsibility, except perhaps to engage on valuable research pertaining to this Vyldemire, these outlandish circumstances that led her here but that was a continuous journey. She learned much from her travels, but she had more to discover and less to be ignorant of. Another thing was fairly certain, her experiences here have taught her to be more careful, more reserved. It saddened her as she suspected nothing from such a kind face, but with a guilt she was not required to feel, Karimah stepped around them with an apologetic expression. She might have wanted the company, but she knew better.
For once in her life.
Word Count; 519
made bycapt. meows
made bycapt. meows
If this were a test? Then results were in...She passed with flying colors.
This woman possessed unfathomable levels of empathy and compassion, far more than an angel or deity she may have prayed to. While those in the sky laugh at the insects, she - the mocked, would welcome them with open arms.-- How pitiful, these roles they play. If only things we reversed, if only she was amongst the decision makers, the gods, the "protectors"; perhaps then Wyatt wouldn't have to...
No, that thought was too saddening for tonight's events.
Internalize and adapt. Harden the soul, execute empathy. They were no longer slaves of emotion, they could not allow themselves to be sidetracked from what needed to be done. If they'd lost even a second of data then all would be for naught. They couldn't afford it. Not now, not ever again.
As the woman spoke, Wyatt's mind - much akin to an ai response bot, calculated a plethora of responses. Each word acting as a tag, or search variable narrowing the massive list down to a selective few. And as she wished them to take care of themselves, it was here in this exact moment Wyatt reached their well pondered conclusion; it was time to execute their plan.
Having taken the cookie when offered prior, Wyatt only now opened it. Unraveling it with a sense of mystique and wonder in their visage. "This look", they motioned to sniff it, masking their repulsion in a warm and gentle smile, "This smell". Pausing, the angel took a bite before letting a gentle gasp slip past their succulently soft lips. As they had, a small tear slid down their right cheek as they looked to the woman in realization, as if it had all suddenly become clear to them.
"K...", they spoke with hesitation, almost scared to utter the name, "Karimah"? This was it. It was time to sell. Dropping the cookie, Wyatt gave a bewildered yet relieved as they took another step forward. "Please, don't leave just yet." Their posture dropped, just begging to be embraced, "Unless you must, in which case I understand". Looking up, they'd reached a safe enough distance to be able to whisper as they leaned in and did so promptly.
"This is going to sound weird but, I feel like it's destiny we're meeting like this", offering a goofy laugh and an "embarrassed" scratch of the the temple, they continued. "If I haven't scared you off yet, would I be pushing it by asking a total stranger for coffee? Or maybe even a walk.-- Anything for a couple minutes more of your time. And hey, if you aren't up for it, it's not like I'm forcing you right"?
They backed up, sliding their hands into the pockets as a sign of peace. To show they had no intention of putting their hands on her...yet.
"So what do you say? You bored enough on a night like this to play with fate"?
As she excused herself, sipping the warm drink in her hand as quietly as she could, she heard them utter carefully, “Karimah?” She was surprised of hearing her own name on their lips and grew wary of them. They might have left the little coffee shop some time before she did. Perhaps they could have heard it in passing. Whatever the case was; that didn’t stop the accelerated beating of her heart, the sudden prickling sensation creeping up the back of her neck. What should she respond with after his gentlest plea? Every second brought her closer to leaving.
Against her better judgement, Karimah turned round, and, looking at the curious stranger with leveled trepidation, saw a tear gliding down that pallid cheek. “Unless you must,” there was a softness in their voice that convinced her to stay, “in which case I understand.”
There was something in the way they spoke and the purity of that sad face that seemed to disarm her. She came closer as they calmly coversed, and stood looking into the eyes of a genuinely good actor. She didn’t know any better. To think she assumed the wildest things of such a person; she was embarrassed of herself for even seeing them in such a negative light and, with questionable finality, reasoned it as a thing of coincidence.
They could have been as kind as Saeven for all she knew — what with his delightful humor and genuine heart. She missed him already and quite so dearly.
After about a few seconds the cookie in her hand vanished, and a handkerchief took its place. Karimah was quickly forgetting her subtlety when it came to the magic she was born with, it was a hard habit to break — poofing things into existence when it was most convenient to. Had she learned nothing? She winced mentally as she picked up on her grave blunder, but took comfort in knowing there were people out that shared a similar power.
“Since you know my name already,” remarked Karimah airily, “how about you tell me y-“ she held her breath unnecessarily as he leaned in. There was nothing in their breath, no unsightly body odor had deterred her. In fact, from where she stood they smelled rather nice, but that wasn’t the point — the genie was starting to malfunction.
As they whispered to her Karimah adruptly pressed the handkerchief to the side of their face with such firmness (still quite gentle though) that she had to remind herself that this was not Hoptus, that there was no tree nearby with which they could pin her to with hand around her neck. They only wished for her company. A moment of her time.
She resumed normal operations and tentatively patted his cheek dry like a concerned friend. “Destiny? What a very pretty way of describing our meeting,” said Karimah, likening this to one of her many books. It was a word not uttered often, at least, not for her or with her in mind. People didn’t naturally go out of their way to tell the lamp-dweller something like this. The most it would have been was a good bumping-into, a quick apology that usually ending in so-longs and good-byes. That, or ‘You’re a genie! What can you do for me? I want a wish!’
She moved to his side the instant they backed away from her to prove they meant her no ill will. Her eyes told them they were free to talk to her about anything and she’d happily listen.
“I do love surprises.” Uttered Karimah sheepishly, dematerializing the handkerchief she employed mere seconds ago to dry their eyes.
“Lead the way,” she mused, but then took another sip of that fragrant French vanilla, “we wouldn’t want to upset fate. So, what are your interests?”
Was that the best she could do? It was only the worst ice breaker in the world.
Word Count; 653
made bycapt. meows
made bycapt. meows
Much akin to a stage performer, Wyatt finds themselves fascinated with the mind. How it works, how it doesn't, how it can be manipulated-- how it can be broken. They yearn to collect laughs, cries, and facial expressions like data on a chart. That way, when it was their time to act, they knew exactly what inspiration to draw from; this was no different. Wyatt was conducting their research in the form of a very special play. A series of words, commands, and body movements that would, in the end, result in furthering their understanding. And it's name?
Tragedy On The Boardwalk.
Throughout act one, Wyatt picked up on a few important yet subtle takeaways. As if adorning the detective hat and cape, the winged sherlock broke the moments down frame by frame as they spoke; the machinery within their consciousness analyzing them for relevance and pushing the best of the best to the forefront of their thoughts. Through this, Vyldermire's chosen guardian determined a number of points.
1. She possesses some sort of supernatural ability. It's safe to assume it's magic but it's type is currently unknown.
2. It bears a resemblance to many rumored forms of forbidden magicks - however, it cannot be narrowed down to any in specific. Until then, they should remain on high alert.
3. Her little "disappearing act" just raised her stock WAY up. To the moon in fact.
They were certain, absolutely certain. They needed her and they wouldn't settle for less. And it wasn't for a one night stand like they might've hoped for no; she's worth far more than one night. That being said, she still needed to be tested, Vyldermire's inhabitants still needed to be tested. They couldn't lose track of their mission, their beloved came first.-- Always. It was around the moment she'd sheepishly mentioned loving surprises that Wyatt had switched from automatic to manual, now readied with a plan to move forward with tonight's events.
As the curtains once again opened, Wyatt stood illuminated by a metaphorical spotlight; ready to perform their heart out for an audience of one.
It was time for Act 2.
Having not spoken up until this point, Wyatt was sure to offer a varying amount of expressions throughout her emotional response. Oh how moved she must've felt by his performance, grossly consuming a rhetoric dipped in fool's gold. If only she knew the fun that awaited her, the choices she would have to make. They couldn't help but wonder if she would smile as she is now, if she was see them as Human or Monster; perhaps something in between.
Eh, who cares. She was nothing more than a lab rat at the end of the day. So long as they ensured her continued cooperation, how she felt about them wasn't necessarily important. Offering their right arm for her to link her left with, they began walking; putting the arm back down if she either declined or didn't respond soon. "First, I should answer your prior question with a greeting.", they turned to her with a warm smile, "Hello, my name is Weiland, Weiland Garrison. It's very nice to see you again". Looking forward, they started to navigate through the city, keeping sure to stay buried in a sea of bystanders.
"The second question you asked is...", their mask "temporarily lifted", giving way to a saddened visage, "a bit harder to answer.", perking right back up they continued "But I'll try my best to answer. I'm what people might call a "tree hugger" or "nature nut", but who wouldn't love this amazing planet we live on? Every day is so great isn't it? To live here, to call this place home. Gosh, it's the greatest feeling in the world"!
Though Wyatt sought to manipulate her through lies, this was their only truth. They loved their beloved more than anything in the universe and for her? They would risk it all. Speaking of such, Wyatt resumed the second act.
"Seeing as Vyldermire has done so much for me, for all of us, I want to do anything and everything I can to protect it.", they scratched their neck in embarrassment, "I guess I'm something like the planet's Guardian. Silly thought, isn't it"? Upon the removal of their arm from it's current position, Wyatt noticed how close they'd gotten to the destination. Not wanting to spoil the fun of getting to know their new test subject, the angel of death slowed the pace down to ensure they observed everything they could before their arrival.
"In my downtime I'm a bit of a hobbyist but my main thing is people watching. I love observing and studying the mind, understanding it's mechanics. Each of the millions of people that live here are all vastly different.", that was a lie, these creatures were all the same, "I can't help but want to get to know them all, but I don't think I've got that kind of time unfortunately". As much as they enjoyed the sound of their own voice, they felt they'd talked enough for the moment; it was time to become the listener. To analyze and begin planning the finale. "What about you? Anything new that's caught your eye"?
“Weiland Garrison,” she murmured, lowering the lids of her eyes, thick black lashes visible as she bowed her head and committed it to memory. “I will remember your name.”
The tall, light-haired entity slowed their step; but the docile youth had no mind to suspect their motives. Taking their arm with care, she was content to savour their open hospitality and look upon the heavens shrouded in utter darkness. There wasn’t a single twinkling star in the sky for either of them to admire. What a pity. She was having a wonderful time. “Is anything ever easy in the life of a mortal? Try me, Weiland,” encouraged Karimah, keeping an open mind, “and I will hang upon your every word. I want to understand.”
She raised her eyes meaningfully. Their story was about to begin. With a free hand she gave their arm a reassuring squeeze before nursing the straw that settled snugly between her lips. Karimah was highly engrossed and sympathetic as she swallowed down the liquid sugar silently. On hearing the particulars of what they were unfairly called, she bestirred herself to think back on her journey, to the friends she made along the way. Those closest to her heart happened to be the most connected to the life that flourished in the trees, the flowers, and the wind that passed through their home.
“It isn’t silly to love your world so deeply,” replied the touched spirit of the lamp, feeding off their positive energy so well that she had not expected them to remove their arm from their previous position as it seemed so abrupt to her. She released them willingly, complacent and thoughtful now, using this moment to toss the empty cup in the trash. They mentioned not having the time, and that reasonably saddened her a tad.
“Your achievements are worth more when you live a life that is on the clock. Tick-tock, tick-tock. But,” said Karimah, implying the bits and pieces of her fated immortality, “when you don’t have those timely pressures, that ambition has the possibility of losing its shimmer and gleam. It is why we search for the finer things,” she could feel the elders from her universe breathing down her neck, scolding her for her lack of neutrality, “and I’m not talking about the materialistic. The ties we make, the lessons we learn, the — it’s the little things, really, that make life so remarkable.”
The djinn were a highly neutral race, full of wisdom and knowledge; there weren’t many of them and they could often interact freely with their own kind. There were greater emotional limitations, however, when it came to the twists and turns that was the human labyrinth. Such a species were considered flawed, greedy, impulsive, unpredictable and were kept at arm’s length by her people emotionally. Her kind were beyond many centuries old, so they had plenty of time to mentally train and prepare for the ever-shifting morale of man whereas Karimah only had twenty years under her belt before she was banished to Vyldemire.
She was weak.
“Do what you love,” Karimah was brought back to the present with a smile, “until the very end and don’t let anyone tell you differently. So, until then, recycle, conserve energy and take shorter baths. Vyldemire will thank you, you darling nature enthusiast, you!” she ruined the moment by throwing in the most unnecessary finger guns in existence, her constant beaming wide and unnervingly cheesy. Even she couldn’t help but laugh at herself.
She was able to compose herself again. She wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. Poor Weiland had to deal with an awkward lass like herself.
“I got carried away. I’m so sorry. I am pleased you treasure your home and the people that reside here. You’re a diamond, you know.” Said the genie, lacing her hands together as she found herself admiring the variety of faces, while not many of them because of just how late it was, while the shops were all coming to a close. The lights were starting to dim as a considerable darkness cast a shadow over them, which she couldn’t help but give way to a visible shiver. Was there an outage that not even the lamp posts would ignite? Oh, why did that make her so skittish all of a sudden?
She stopped walking entirely and raised her eyes to theirs, visibly dismayed. “Weiland, I — I believe I should take my leave. Would you like for us to continue our talk tomorrow, perhaps? When the circumstances are more favorable? I would be more than happy to tell you about myself over a nice cup of coffee. We could throw in a nice breakfast while we are at it . . .”
Word Count; 791
made bycapt. meows
made bycapt. meows
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