Not That Bad [OPEN]

aegis of the torrent

Being an apprentice bookkeeper wasn't so bad. The pay was good, and he had a place to stay, unlike the first few days of total aimlessness. Mikleo even had books to read and places to visit within the sheltered walls of Radiant Garden. Besides the occasional Heartless sneaking up on him, he realized very early on that he could live an easy life here.

He should have been more shaken about having left his world behind, but instead felt a profound satisfaction in having fulfilled his role; That day in Camlann, Mikleo had been ready to die - but apparently that wasn’t for him to decide.

the pen glided skillfully across the parchment, soft scratches permeating the otherwise silent room. Writing down his friends' names was like a handshake but without the warmth.

Mikleo had decided not too long ago that it was time the story of Sorey the Shepherd wound itself onto paper - even if no one was there to learn the significance behind the pilgrimage; even if no one was there to recall that their experiences were not just a tapestry, but an adventure steeped in as much mystery as it was in tragedy.

Maybe Mikleo was just being honorable by writing out the book like he said he would. Maybe he just wanted something familiar to hang on to. Either way, that book was full of memories.

The sun beyond the window was chasing the last traces of night when Mikleo finally stood up, the chair complaining behind him. Rest had its advantages, as always. Sleep didn't. He'd head back down to the master's study in a few hours, finish all his errands and keep living his quiet little life.

--

Part of his errands today involved a little change of scenery (which was probably meant by Merlin as a little break from the constant brooding, but was actually a little disadvantageous to a bookworm like Mikleo). Mikleo was tasked with setting up bills across all the billboards of the town square. Merlin apparently needed a lot of help for his upcoming projects.

All most people saw were floating stacks of paper. Those were the people who couldn't see him - but apparently, others could, and very clearly at that. Merlin, for instance, not only saw him but saw right through him to what he really was. A seraph, Mikleo was actually kind of flattered. As a bookworm, Mikleo drowned himself in books and theologies on how this oblong reality worked. One particular possibility that stuck to him was that you had to strongly lean on the side of either light or darkness to at least sense, if not see him there. That was good enough.

Unable to pull out of his thoughts fast enough, Mikleo ended up tripping into someone in a very real way. The bills scattered all over the ground next to him. “Shoot,” Mikleo lamented, quickly diving after them. "I mean, sorry."

There weren't a lot of advantages of being seen by this many people.

It was still jarring to try and wrap his mind around. Days and days now he'd been trying to figure out how to cope with it or find some way to do something about it. Some way to get back home. And each time had ended up with him nearly putting his fist through a wall. He might have grown wiser and more even of temper in his advancement of age, but the ferocity of his temper once roused hadn't diminished one whit. If anything, it had only grown all the worse over the years, and when he really lost his cool it was all the harder to calm him down.

His frequent temper tantrums had made him quite well-known in the area lately, as it so happened.

It just made him pull his hat down a little lower over his face and pull his coat a little closer against his frame in embarrassment, trying to just blend in and become just another person again.

It didn't help matters any that he had had more than one run-in with those blasted things called 'Heartless'. They were major pests to deal with. Nothing he threw at them really seemed to stick as easily and cleanly, and only Hamon had any noticeable effect, actually managing to knock them around. But it also served to very quickly him out, his breath deserting him. Long years of neglected practice for the breathing techniques required of Hamon had left him unaccustomed to them.

He had never once truly run from a fight, but he was forced to fall back and retreat temporarily to catch his breath several times against the little beasts. But eventually, each and every one of them that crossed his path eventually earned a Hamon-charged fist to their beady little eyes and was routed. He was always exhausted and tired afterward, but it was still refreshing to know that even against something so strange he could still hold his own.

Out for a stroll to head off the impending overflow of frustration as his thoughts wound down into familiar circles, Joseph Joestar was expecting anything but what hit him out of nowhere.

Literally.

He blinked in confusion, with a simple, "Whuh?" as someone bumped into him, barely staggering half a step. But the apology sailed right pas his ears, as the mess of papers the other person had been carrying went every which way. Including right into Joseph's face, where one of them stuck with a ferocious force. Probably all the Hamon he'd been forced to use lately...

He staggered back, hands flying to his face, palms over his eyes, his fedora sailing off his head and floating gently down to the ground behind him.

"OH MY GOOOOOOOD!"

He staggered back several paces, one hand over his eyes, the other waving about in front of him blindly, as if searching for something to grab hold of to keep his balance. "M-MY EYES! I CAN'T SEE!" He staggered to one side, unsteady steps carrying him forward this way and that. "I COULD SEE FINE JUST A SECOND AGO, BUT THEN...! GWOOOOOH!" A bench interposed itself in his path and he hit it square on, banging his shins against it and tripping over it, sailing through the air to crash down heavily -- and solidly -- to the ground. 

It was a wonder the bench didn't shatter under the impact.

He hissed out a breath of pain through clenched teeth, clutching at the more sore of his shins. "Owowowowowowow....."

Curious circumstances. From a nearby alleyway, Lamb was viewing the scene set before her. Fate, it seems, does not function as normal here. The one known as Mikleo was set to run directly into her and get a scolding from Wolf. However, a stroke of... luck? changed the outcome. A man, Joseph Joestar, who was meant for death, made his presence known. In the most comedic of fashions. From behind Lamb, Wolf broke out into a cackle of glee at the man's antics.

"Let me chase them, Little Lamb!" Wolf demanded, eagerly pacing around and looking around the corner as well. As much as Lamb wanted to indulge her friend's wishes, could only look on curiously. Two who they had met before, yet still very much present in front of them.

"In time, Dear Wolf." Lamb responded. Not a satisfactory answer for the impatient spirit of bloody murder. Yet still, Wolf didn't take any offense to it. Deciding that the best course of action would be to simply reveal themselves, Lamb stepped out of the alleyway and made her way to them. Glowing eyes would peer out at the pair, causing Lamb to marvel at the luck. One, slain by their own sacrifice and willingness of death. And the other, horribly murdered, and yet revived. One by each of their hands.

Yet still, Lamb wanted answers as to why they were just up and walking around. Wolf would make the first contact, wandering up to the fallen Joseph and start to smell him. Meanwhile, Lamb would crouch down to view one of the papers that had been strewn about.

"Borrowed blood." Wolf commented, rather loudly. He always was more crass and obvious.

"Borrowed fate." Lamb adds on, looking at Mikleo and offering out a hand to help him up.

aegis of the torrent

"What? What, what is your problem?!" Mikleo shouted just as hysterically, really, if not more than the old dunderhead.

This was why he did not want to go outside today. The town was chalked full of crazy people. It was no wonder the Heartless levels here thrived.

By that point Mikleo was done pawing around for his papers to stare in unadulterated awe, unsure of whether he was witnessing someone with horrible luck, or he himself was the cause of said horrible luck. Did he seriously just almost kill an old man by bumping into him? (the impact said otherwise) Was that how things were gonna be now? He was gonna inderectily kill common humans?

...could this guy even see him?

Any and all questions about this crazy situation lodged in the Seraph's throat, up until a gasp did when a duo of...things sauntered up to him and the old man. The black one stuck out most to Mikleo, if only because it kinda looked like a...Oh, no.

The white creature and its offered hand was overlooked as Mikleo stumbled off the ground to wedge himself between the man the wolf haunting him. It was instinctive; Mikleo couldn't not protect him, no matter how sad the old man was. Stealing a brief glance around the town square told Mikleo two things. a) there were a lot of people around minding their own businesses, probably oblivious to everything happening here and b) the less of a scene they made, the better for everyone.

"Who are you?" demanded Mikleo. His question extended, not only to his phobia-shaped nemesis in front of him, but also to the white one. He couldn't sense malevolence coming from neither one, but what he did sense wasn't any better. "And what do you want with us?"

@tag

It seemed like it must have been much longer than the few short seconds it actually was, but a light breeze finally pawed at the paper clinging incessantly to Joseph's face and carried it away. It left the old man completely unaware, carrying on with his very animated displays of pain, clutching at his shin and yowling in pain. How much of it was genuine, and how much of it was shock and surprise, or just plain hamming it up for no discernible reason was more than a little difficult to tell.

But all it took was two simple words to snap the old man out of his antics.

"Borrowed blood."

His eyes snapped open, squinting against the light of the sun he was all but staring straight into, and hauling himself up to a sitting posture. He shaded his eyes with one hand, looking from the young man before him to the...odd creatures nearby. The scene was quite odd, even at just a passing glance, and the bizarrity of the odd pair of creatures was enough to put JoJo on edge. The young man spoke up with a pair of questions that had just made themselves known in the old man's head. "To be honest..." he remarked, clambering back to his feet and dusting his pants off.

"I'd kinda like to know that, myself." The fact of his blood being not entirely his own was something that shouldn't have been known by anyone, except for the ones rather....intimately involved with the circumstances surrounding it. It immediately had him on edge and alert for anything...untoward. He had no idea how it could possibly be so, but the only assumption he could make with his current information was some kind of enemy Stand. Maybe someone who had worked for Dio but avoided being defeated and somehow wound up here...

Too many questions, not enough answers. It was a headache for another time.

Wolf almost glee'd in delight when Mikleo slid between him and Joseph. The increased adrenaline and bloodflow cause by only a few words. The canine wore a big grin, looking back at Lamb expectantly. While Wolf knew the answer to his question, it never hurt to ask if maybe Lamb would be more generous than usual. She did that sometimes.

"They want to fight! Can I fight?" Wolf would inquire eagerly. And, as usual, Lamb shut him down. With a shake of her head, Wolf gave a rather animated pout before swirling back into shadow and appearing back by his companion. Hopefully, this might alleviate the tension Mikleo had.

"We are called, Kindred. I am Lamb..." The voice was soft, almost disarming. A lesser being might just accept this. That is, until Wolf speaks again.

"And I am Wolf!" He adds with much gusto.

"Though our form is as such here, the form most familiar to the two of you would be... Heldalf, and Dio Brando." Lamb motions between the two before them as she mentions the beings instrumental to their death. However, just to clarify, Lamb continues to speak. "Both of you have met us through death. And so, we know you. However, here you both are, in life yet again." It's hard to pick it out with how emotionless Lamb might seem, but there is a slight tone off irritation.

There is a brief silence, as if the two are deciding something between themselves. It was mostly a response to Mikleo's second question.

"Want? I honestly want to chase both of you back down." Wolf says with another smile. However, Lamb shuts him down again. Or perhaps she finishes the statement.

"However, we are more interested in seeing what it is that you choose to do with your reclaimed life." This sounded more like a curiosity than a challenge. Her gaze shifted directly onto the blue haired youth. "Mikleo, the Water Seraph. And Joseph Joestar with his Stand, Hermit Purple..." She would shift to looking at Joseph when speaking his name. "What is it you now do with your gift of life?"

aegis of the torrent

What Mikleo heard gave him chills down his spine, and not even the usual chills he gets from dogs. They were death? Was he seriously supposed to believe that? The perturbed seraph subconsciously spanned the town with the half-expectation of spotting a giant eye or two, maybe a magnifying glass in the sky. What didn't this place have that wasn't either super freaky or downright impossible?

But as always, rest of the townspeople went on their merry way way. Mikleo's mini freak-out was only his to bear.

At least he and the old man weren't attacked, he supposed. The self-proclaimed creatures didn't want to fight them, or at least one didn't. It wanted to talk. To ask them about their lives and how they were using them.

Mikleo didn't have an answer to a question he refused to ask himself since coming here. He certainly didn't ask to be brought into a world that was nothing like his own. But he also didn't know how to feel about going back either. With a wary glance at the old man who seemingly shared his fate, Mikleo, frowned. "Are you saying we came back so we could have our lives appraised?"

That appraisal sure took its time coming. Back in Glenwood Mikleo had a dream. That dream was sought through until everyone's bitter end, but it was mostly fulfilled. Now Mikleo didn't have a dream anymore. All he had was a new world looming over him and a new life to live. It wasn't a luxurious life, but it was closest thing he could have to his care-free days growing up.

On that thought, Mikleo spoke again, sounding a little lost this time, "This whole package didn't come with a manual. Was there something else we were supposed to do with our lives besides, I dunno, live?"

@joseph

The old man looked over his shoulder at his fallen hat, and with a gesture of his hand, called forth Hermit Purple. The signature high-pitched whine of the vine-based Stand resounded clearly in his ears, and the thorny vines whipped out, over his shoulder and retrieved his hat, depositing it lightly in his upturned hand. With a flicker and spark of yellow lightning, the vines vanished entirely, and Joseph merely dusted off his hat before settling it back into place atop his thoroughly grayed hair.

He had been listening to the odd creatures speaking but hadn't really paid much attention until the name of Dio Brando was uttered. And then his full attention fell upon the one who had spoken, and his posture tensed, looking ready to spring into action at the drop of a hat. Anyone who could so casually speak the name of a monster like Dio Brando...wasn't one that should be taken lightly.

The concept of them being death seemed to wash right over Joseph, not even drawing a blink of surprise. The concepts of Stands and their myriad powers had left him difficult to surprise when it came to matters of bizarre powers or ideas, not to mention the insanity of his clash with the Pillar Men in his youth.

But above all it was when Lamb mentioned Joseph's Stand -- and by name, no less -- that he let his suspicion show in his expression, his eyes narrowing into a focused stare, darting between the pair of strange beasts. "What is it we do now?" he echoed the question, his tone serious, but thoughtful. He had an answer right away. "I can't speak for him... he gestured at Mikleo with his thumb. "...but I plan on finding a way back home. I've got family I need to check on."

To Mikleo, Lamb shook her head. "No, your purpose for being alive again is not for me to judge you. The question was because I am curious. Usually, when things die, they tend to not escape us unless through some malevolent means. Yet, here you are." She says in a soft tone. His second question makes her think for a moment. The wording, his confusion, it reminded her of someone else of their past.

"No, I don't suppose that there is something else you are expected to do. But can you call what you are doing as truly living? Or are you just staying alive?" Lamb questions Mikleo. Hopefully to get him thinking.

On the other side, Wolf is speaking to Joseph. Far more demented than his companion, Joseph might even notice a hint of sadism (and Dio) in Wolf's mannerisms. "Back home? There is no home for you anymore. The void of darkness has consumed the land you are from." Wolf states with a big grin. While blunt, and likely something Lamb would have worded nicer, it was likely the truth.

"Things aren't the same here, Jojo. It looks like you're on another bizarre adventure." Wolf hints, that grin wide. It would be intimidating to a normal being. But, even the malevolent being of death knew that this old man was far from normal. "But I like you and your purple plant. When Dio comes, you can call for me and I'll reclaim his blood." A demented alliance offer, but still a 'nice' gesture from Wolf all the same.

aegis of the torrent

Mikleo wasn’t anywhere near malevolent, he didn’t think. In fact, he’d been fighting against that very thing even before he came to Radiant Garden. But while he didn’t think of himself as the tragic bad guy, he couldn’t help but feel a little out of place with his decision of ‘living’. He’d been more than that, once before. Before Radiant Garden, he’d been somebody with a purpose.

And that was why Mikleo the Executor’s lips remained tethered for all of ten seconds.

“That is...”

He couldn’t answer. He didn’t really want to answer. Answering meant he’d be trying to explain to himself what it was he’d been doing in these past six months. And it sounded a lot like nothing.

Mikleo caught his bearings in time, sliding his gaze down and away. “I’ve been studying up on the nature of these worlds. I’ve been studying these creatures called the Heartless. That has to account for something,” he concluded. Who he was really telling that to, on the other hand, was up for debate.

Of course, he fought the Heartless from time to time. Mostly, it was for the purpose of self-defense. He didn’t subject himself to recklessness even then, having studied that the Heartless could not die; not really. Like the hellions in Glenwood, they could not be purified. Unless…

Mikleo forced his attention to the snippets coming from the old man and the wolf. For someone who didn’t really think he had a chance of going back to his homeworld, the seraph found the news of a world snuffed with darkness a highly disturbing one.

“Darkness?” He echoed as he swiftly approached the two. “Are you saying his his world got consumed by it? Is that what happens when we find our way here? Is it?”

@sorey