paixaorpg | Stranger Lies [Active]

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Stranger Lies [Active]

Character(s): The Lone Power, Zetsu, Xaldin, V and Rozalin
Content: Two amnesiac villains meet a rather...exotic crowd and have no idea what the hell's going on.
Setting: Vanaheim Gate
Time: mid-to-late morning
Warnings: two amnesiacs, an organization member, and god knows what else? Who knows. Possible: swearing, violence(?), and mind games

You can call it a bad morning when you wake up outside and spend the first few hours of it with a hangover with no known source and no idea where you are nor who you are and wander around in circles. The Lone Power glared at the gates. He was back at the same gates for the second or third time in the past couple hours. At least now the hangover was going away…or maybe that was just his frustration wiping it out. The Lone Power sat down near the gate and glared at the electronic device in his hands before banging on the keys in frustration, a determined scowl at it as he set about trying to figure out what to do with it. The only thing on his mind was that he was going to get it to work on his own without help. There was no way in hell he was asking for help.

The Lone Power focused intently on the journal in front of him, pushing away the feelings of intense discomfort at the city as a whole... This place had him feeling trapped, though he couldn't exactly tell completely why.

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Zetsu wondered what he was.

The who, at the moment, seemed almost irrelevant. There could be no easy answer to that, not when he felt within himself two obviously different people. One was distressed, one merely upset, and both were confused--they were twined together peaceably enough for now, with no reason to argue and every reason to peaceably coexist to search for answers together.

The where? Far worse than merely irrelevant--entirely meaningless. He couldn't remember anywhere else, so "where" was simply "here" until further notice, until the significance of any name could be understood.

But the what, now..... The what was something indeed. He could feel that in his bones, that he was not what he might be, that he was not "normal", "right", whatever those words happened to entail. But what did that mean? Did not being normal mean he was better, worse, or just different? Having such strangely functioning eyes seemed as if it might be odd, but useful, and he didn't know anyone to ask them how they saw things. His leaves were a little awkward, but functional, and the morning sunlight felt very good on them. He was lost (could he really be lost, or anything but, when every place was "here"?) and confused, but not entirely unhappy--he knew that he didn't know enough to be afraid. Besides, he had nothing to compare his current lot to, to wish for better.

No, the only thing to make him upset now was the plants around him, because he had himself and his own leaves to compare them to. His were broad, beautiful green things, alive and growing, capable of enjoying the sunlight, of pulling their livelihood from it, of being touched and tended and loved. The plants here were beautiful but false things, glittering harshly in the sun and sporting hard, sharp edges that could hurt, especially if they were broken. They had no doubt been made by a loving hand, but they had never been alive themselves, there was nothing to love about them.... They were soulless, and that upset him too profoundly to put words or reason to, to even know how to deal with the feeling.

Distress. Zetsu could smell it before he noticed the man, tasting the pheromones and intuiting their significance. Someone was upset, had their heart pumping and adrenaline flowing, even if there was no room for the traditional fight-or-flight response. It made him frown a little; the scent was strangely appealing, but the sentiment most certainly was not. He made his way towards the man, noting the odd clothing (then again, who was he to say it was odd, aside from comparing it to his own clothes? Just because he couldn't remember seeing a business suit before didn't mean he never had....) and the contraption he held. "What are you doing?" The curiosity and mild concern were easily read in his expression, almost child-like in its openness.

A shadow in black was at that moment standing at the gatehouse, his hood pulled up over his head to cast his features into darkness. A light breeze seemed to follow him wherever he went; not a warm and inviting one, but a cold, hard, forbidding air that said clearly that here was a person who was not to be messed with.

That much said, he seemed to be thoroughly annoyed with something. He'd just spent the better part of an hour doing a job that a certain watery sap should have completed with no trouble whatsoever. Xaldin felt a distinct need to do something violent - preferably to someone with a heart.

The two individuals meeting not far away caught his attention; they were quite obviously not Paixaoan natives, and they both appeared to be quite lost. A situation that could play out distinctly to his favor - if he played it right.

V stood still for a long moment, looking about himself with natural curiosity. A situation such as this had been entirely unexpected; he could well spend a moment to take it all in. After all, by no account should he be standing there---wherever 'there' was---let alone standing, and feeling fine. Intrigued and eager for answers, the masked man would approach the first people near. While a man in a suit was unremarkable, a plant-person was something new; V moved closer, sounding pleasant enough for someone so lost. "Pardon me,"

"What is this?" Rozalin looked around, her surroundings differing greatly from what they were mere seconds ago. Rozalin sighed, she had obviously been summoned by some fool seeking her father, again

Rozalin spoke out loudly to whoever had brought her here, "Honestly now, I have begun to tire of the growing repetition in all of these shoddy summoning rituals, If you are so brave as to seek his audience you should be kind enough to hire a competent summoner.”

However, it seemed that no one was listening; In fact there wasn't a soul who looked even mildly heroic and dumb enough to test their strength against her father.
Or was there, just a short distance through a crowd of peasants stood a party of two men and a monster. The masked man in the cloak was obviously some sort of skull or a mage, most likely the fool who had sought to summon her father. The monster looked much like one of Veldime's Flora Beasts and the man in the suit must be their warrior, he would not be the first fighter she had met who wore formal attire.

Rozalin cast the blond peoples aside and dealt with a rather rude man in a booth. One fist full of royal insignia and an hour long explanation of the honorifics, history and spellings of the Zenon bloodline later, Rozalin stood pointing toward the three men, -er two and a half men.

“You there! Are you the three who dare to challenge my father's rule?”

The Lone Power glanced up to see something strange when asked what he was doing. Strange dress...a humanlike shape, with leaves. Lots of leaves. He managed to growl, "Trying to figure out how this works."

Shortly there after another person came by asking for pardon for some reason...

Finally, a female who asked if they were challenging her father. The Lone Power had a brief flash of confusion, but quite as soon as it had happened, there was a carefully placed serious expression on his face, "Not that I know of. You are looking for someone else." The sentiment surrounding it was quite naturally laced in the vaguest bending of the truth. It was true that he didn't know of any summonings, but it also was untrue that someone else had summoned the girl. He didn't remember the events prior to when he had woken up. Something about saying it, though, made him relax a little.

After all, even if he didn't know it, he was the king of lies. Any little loopholes were perfect for him because they got him out of a tight spot. Though only time would tell if the one loophole was enough.

Trying to figure out how this works..... "This" being the contraption he was fiddling with. That was a very good question.... how did it work? Or more importantly.... "What is it supposed to do?" Knowing what something did was usually the best excuse for figuring out how to make it work; it might even give clues on how to do it.

Zetsu turned at the sound of another voice, leaves pricking up attentively. "Pardon what?" It took the plant-nin several disconcerted moments to realize that he was not, in fact, looking someone in the face, but staring at a mask. A nicely-crafted mask, but one that was obviously--or at least, it seemed obvious, after a good look--stylized and fake. Why was he masked? What did he want pardon for? Maybe they knew each other. Or maybe he knew the man trying to figure out how his contraption worked. He eyed the masked man, glowing yellow eyes pulsing briefly brighter in curiosity; instinctively, he leaned forward a bit to take a deep breath, intuiting that he could probably learn more from scent than from looking at a man covered from head to toe in things that were plainly artificial.

Monster. Beast. Was he one of these? He wasn't, couldn't be sure. After all, what did it mean to be a monster or beast, and what did it mean to be a human? How could you tell? It wasn't like some kind of knowledge you were born with, otherwise he would know right away....

Loud, angry female voice--very strong scent of impatience, exasperation, hostility.... Zetsu took a step back immediately, leaves quivering in mild alarm. Why was she yelling at them? They hadn't done anything wrong--he'd never even seen her before! Had one of the other two? Maybe. Maybe-maybe-maybe.... If anyone, it had to be the man with his contraption. He looked so serious and self-assured saying those words, he probably did know what they were talking about.... Who was she looking for, and why would anyone challenge her father's rule? Did her father rule this city?

Perhaps it was true what they said about being able to attract more flies with honey than with vinegar, but Xaldin would rather use poison than either of those. Even he wasn't foolish enough to approach a group like this aggressively. Before he moved to intercept the group, his journal beeped out a warning - a message from the Superior. He checked the edict and scowled. Demyx was right, and that irked the wind user considerably.

Even so, a command was a command. Xaldin's cloak evaporated, leaving him wearing the black tunic and pants he wore beneath. It wasn't much of a change, perhaps, but it would at least dissociate him with the black cloak mentality that pervaded the city of late. With that - and the Superior's admonition to keep the carnage down - he plastered a smile that looked more like a grimace on his face and made his move toward the group.

He realized even as he did that he wasn't cut out to be the cheerful greeter. He dropped the smile almost as quickly as he'd pasted it on, letting his martial bearing convey that he was perhaps a personage of importance to the city. The scantilly clad female with the wings could prove troublesome, but the rest seemed casual enough - indeed, two of them seemed to be suffering the same sort of amnesia that had plagued others recently. Xaldin had his suspicions as to its source, though he would not voice them till he had more proof.

His tone patronizing, he addressed the female first. "None of you were 'summoned' here, at least not purposely. If you would take the time to read the pamphlets that accompany the journal you were presented at the gate, you would know that this city acts as a vortex."

The plant-person, the first living greenery Xaldin had seen within the dome in all his time there, seemed lost as much as the man in the business suit. He could guess - could sense - that both wielded considerable power, or would once their memories returned. But neither held a candle to the female's inner strength. This could prove interesting.

Interesting indeed, he thought as he cast a glance in the direction of the masked human whose mind was so chaotic.

"I don't wish to be interrupting, but must ask if either of you would happen to know just how one arrives here." Much less in such a state... V folded his hands and tilted his head just slightly, the very picture of polite curiousity---expressive enough for the fixed smile, all things considered. That curiousity was first and foremost; while he was confused and disoriented, he was comfortable enough standing where he was, and intrigue outweighed other emotions. This was a far cry from England; he wouldn't have any enemies made, at the moment.

Granted, that might not last long... V turned at the exclamation, an eyebrow raised although it couldn't be seen. "No, miss." Not at all; that would require knowing who her father was. Even if the others knew, the masked man didn't, and that ruled out the three of them.

Xaldin's glance was returned without comment.

Their replies proved more then disconcerting as Rozalin glanced at the papers clutched between her hand and the journal (which she had only accepted because it was the only way to get through) and blushed a little.

She had been too pre-occupied with these men who, if they were to be believed (as if she believed them, though) were nothing more then just as confused as she was.

Once again, she looked the other men over -now including the new, stern official- and gave a soft huff of disapproval.

The Lone Power frowned. "I don't know." The statement was addressed to both Zetsu and V's questions. It was quite obvious, however, that he disliked saying it. He glared down at the journal, which presumably was what the device he was using was if he was understanding the new person in the interesting but dark clothes correctly. "All I know is I'm not comfortable here." He couldn't put a why on the discomfort, but just the sensation was enough to frustrate him a little.

Well, he was learning something new already, wasn't he? He hadn't been summoned here for any reason.... But he probably wasn't from here either, considering this mention of a vortex. "I don't know." Zetsu admitted, sounding almost apologetic as he looked to the official-looking black-clad man. "Through some kind of vortex, apparently." Then man was polite, and seemed nice enough despite the mask.... There wasn't a whiff of hostility coming off of him, either. The woman and the man in black seemed to have the most potential for causing trouble--the former smelled upset, and the latter tense. At least the first was understandable, if she really had thought that someone was trying to hurt her father....

He didn't know just what those things were supposed to do either, did he? Damn.... The man sounded as unfortunately lost as he did. Not that he blamed him. "I'm sorry. Maybe if we both try, we'll come up with something...." He pulled out his own journal, this one green, and flipped it open to try fiddling with the device. "Neither am I." Zetsu admitted, glancing at what seemed to be a stained glass tree nearby. It was beautiful.... but still, it just wasn't right, and he could feel that it wasn't deep in his leaves.

The lancer frowned a moment, looking from one person to the next. The whole nonviolent greeting thing was a bit beyond him, honestly; he'd have felt more at home snapping these four like twigs than trying to converse with them in anything approaching a polite manner. But that was, for the moment, not an option.

What to do, what to do...

With a slight shrug - it couldn't hurt to try - Xaldin took a set of pamphlets from a pocket that had been empty before. "Perhaps these will answer some of your questions. You two," he said, indicating Zetsu and Lone, "would perhaps be better off coming with me. Your symptoms have much in common with something that has been going around; we've been gathering those who are afflicted for treatment."

(orz... sorry for the crappiness, but a post was needed.)

Rozalin's huff was more or less disregarded, as there seemed to be no help for it---they could hardly be expected to do much in regards to the attitudes of other new arrivals. Zetsu, in turn, was given a small shrug. "We'll learn more as time passes, I imagine." It was only likely... "Though, the devil's in the details, by rumour."

V followed the plant-nin's gaze, admiring the tree (while wishing for something similar, for the Shadow Gallery) for a moment, before accepting one of the pamphlets. "Thank you." At the mention of symptoms, a slight tilt of the head was directed at the nobody and amnesiacs indicated, as a serviceable substitute for an expression of natural curiosity.

The princess took the pamphlet and gave them a quick glance, she had already grown tired of these persistent... handouts and paid them little heed. It seemed she would have ample time to read them later.
She was much more concerned at the mention of illness. If she caught something from these.... commoners. Well, she just didn't want to think about it, but this was something she needed to know.

"What exactly is this 'something' going around? I certainly hope that it's not contagious."

Stubborn pride and a poker face was what was made itself known when Xaldin asked him and the plant-person to come with him. "I don't need help." While the voice was assured, the solid belief behind the lie was dropping just slightly. However, just because he didn't know what was going on didn't mean he was going to forfeit his freedom. A rather foggy battle of wills went on in the golden-red haired man's head as he stood up to full height, at roughly 7 feet tall. Something said the man was something he liked, while another part of him said no help was needed. He couldn't understand any of the situation. And so, he strode away, his mind echoing a stubborn, proud, blind fury at being trapped that he couldn't understand.

"Thank you." Zetsu took a pamphlet as well, glancing at the bright, glossy pictures; it showed beautiful buildings and smiling, happy blondes, all nearly identical to one another.... The sight was vaguely familiar from wandering about the city. That much was comforting, at least. He nodded to V, though the masked man did earn a curious look back. "What details would those be?"

He couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious at being looked at, not to mention wondering if he really was sick--and if he was, if he was also contagious. He hadn't even known he was sick; he felt fine, after all.... Zetsu's leaves folded a little more tightly about him for comfort. "What kind of treatment do we need to go through, exactly?" He wasn't certain that agreeing to leave with this stranger was a good idea.... But then again, what else could he do? He didn't like the thought of being sick or contagious, and he didn't know anyone else, either, much less himself. Besides, the man in black seemed to know what he was talking about. Still, it was a good idea to at least get some sense of what would happen, if he did agree....

Zetsu gave Lone a puzzled glance, bordered on worried as Lone asserted his self-sufficiency. "But if you're sick too, then...." He sounded absolutely positive, too. Did he know something the black-clad man didn't, that none of them did? Or was he just self-confident that he could handle any illness, no matter how severe? The plant-nin watched him get up--the height was impressive--and leave, a troubled, confused look starting to grace his features. If Lone was right and they needed no help--or at least, not from that man--then he should probably walk away and maybe follow him, right? Or at least, refuse to go along.

But what if Lone was wrong? If he was only condemning himself to get even sicker? ....Well, they both had to make their own decisions, he supposed. Lone had very definitely made his, but Zetsu was still hedging himself, trying to reason out what was best.

Xaldin did not outwardly react at Lone's exit aside from shrugging, though he truly wanted to reach out and break the guy. He controlled his rage well, however, and returned his attention to the group at hand in general, and in particular the plant-nin.

"The general method of treatment at present involves an advanced form of psychotherapy designed to draw out the memories of amnesiacs. The condition which has brought on this bout is caused by a chemical reaction in foreigners to one of the suppliments in the food we serve in the city - a suppliment which has been removed now that this reaction has been discovered. Any of you who have not yet experienced this should not in the future, as the toxin is flushed from the body quickly - by design, it is a metabolic enhancer."

That was utter and complete bung, but how would -they- know? Unless one of them was a skilled chemist, and even so, they were in a different world from their own. Different world, different rules.

"Not being a healthcare professional, I am afraid that I can provide little more information," he said to V's curious stare. "There are others who can do so, located particularly at our hospital, which is marked on your maps."

"Oh, any that might be overlooked, or which might give rise to some greater issue in the future; countless times, the final outcome of events has been influenced by the smallest, apparently incidental things. I do not put great stock in chance, but I must nod to the theory of the Butterfly Effect."

This certainly got stranger and stranger; V supposed he would stop in at the hospital sooner or later, to ask about. However, there was no great rush to do so, while there was a certain curiosity to see just how strange the current situation got, until a measure of the mundane returned.

"I suppose it cannot be helped that with such foreign peoples that mistakes would be made due to unfamiliarities with their biologies. After all, many dimensional travelers fall ill in their first week of doing so, just from the vast amounts of new diseases they encounter" ,Rozalin said, turning to the masked man and reciting word for word one of her millions of textbook pages she had spent her life devoted to.

Taking the opportunity to smart made Rozalin feel more at ease in the situation and she was beginning to feel very much at ease. After all, this city meant she no longer had to live in that human dog house and would finally be able to live properly in a correctly sized mansion.

"I suppose we'll just have to do our best to be careful then." Zetsu concluded. He'd never heard of the Butterfly Effect, but it made sense to him on some level. And he rather liked the name, though he didn't know what butterflies had to do with it; it was just nice to think about nature, not the strange artificial things trying to masquerade as it here in Paixao.

He didn't remember ever hearing of psychotherapy either, but he could take a reasonable guess at what exactly it was. That made sense, too; this sort of mental Butterfly Effect of drawing out one memory making the entire process easier.... The treatment sounded so reasonable, it was hard not to believe, especially with the explanation of the amnesia provided. He didn't think he knew anything about chemistry.... But everyone else seemed to accept it as a sound explanation, too, and it really would have been a reasonable thing to put in food, if it didn't have this nasty side effect. Even the argumentative young lady was supporting that with knowledge of her own.

Shrugging a little to himself, Zetsu moved to stand closer to Xaldin, willing enough to let the black-clad official direct him to wherever they were running their treatment clinic. He, unlike Lone, wasn't too proud to admit that he needed help, and at this point could be manipulated without too much of a fuss.

Xaldin offered that smile that looked almost predatory again, and led Zetsu away from the others. It did not take him long to reach and turn around a corner - at which point, he created a portal of darkness, and carried the plant nin through.

The room they landed in was stark white, with a few of the normal doctor's office accoutrements - cot/couch, chair, table with various implements of the trade... A standard shrink's office. And there he left Zetsu to await someone more skilled in interrogation, brainwashing, and reprogramming...

(This is by way of an exit for both Zetsu and Xaldin. I am most likely dropping Xaldin.)

"Even after the situation improves, I imagine it'll continue to call for every caution." V shrugged a little, nodding to the ninja and nobody as they moved away. "Do take care."

He shrugged again as he turned to Rozalin. "Well, miss, might I inquire your name? Unless you, too, have business elsewhere and intend to attend to it immediately."

"Oh." Rozalin peeped in realization. "I suppose I don't have any matters to attend to, having just arrived. Though I do suppose my arriving here may have left a man dead, but that is no matter, I am Rozalin, daughter of Zenon."
Rozalin bowed cordially to the masked man, as she was trained to when announcing herself.

"Now, who are you, who is so bold as to ask a lady's name without introducing yourself?"

V returned the bow, sweeping his hat off as he did. "I beg your pardon, with sincerest apologies. I have no name for a proper introduction.... although, 'V' is preferred to the alternatives." He straightened and replaced his hat, nodding to his remaining acquaintance.

"If you wouldn't mind my company for a little longer, perhaps we should find a seat to continue this conversation? I would like to hear about this man that might be dead, being a rather curious creature."

"Sir V, then" Rozalin replied, giving a slight bow to partner his, "That sounds perfectly acceptable. I know near to nothing of this city and would rather not spend time alone in it so soon, so, I shall accept your offer."

Rozalin turned, looking down each road so as to attempt to best divine where each lead and hopefully lead discussion away from the red haired man who might be dead.

"It will be a pleasure; my time spent with civil company has been unfortunately limited, for some time." He opened one of the pamphlets he'd taken from Xaldin, considering it for a moment. "Perhaps we could get detailed information, or slightly more detailed information, on the places in Paixao at one of the stations. Would you be interested in such a stop?"

"Stations?" The princess asked, she wasn't familiar with any place by that name. Which made sense if you considered that she lived in a world where teleportation and dimension hopping were the major forms of travel. Railways were completely obsolete there.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, but If you've reason to believe there would be a peasant there with a knowledge of the city above handing out pamphlets, then I am all for the idea."

"One of the train stations, yes---I'd imagine the locals thereabouts would be a bit better prepared to answer the questions of disoriented visitors." V nodded, allowing himself some optimism. It was probably uncalled for, as those facing the newcomers ought to be best prepared, but hope could well spring eternal. "Shall we be off?"

"...Train stations... yes, lead the way." Rozalin still didn't understand, but having never seen a train, it wasn't going to be until she ran into one that she understood. She was trying her best to not look like she had no idea what the cloaked gentleman meant, but, all in all, she still appeared to be rather confused as she followed behind.

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Stranger Lies [Active]

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