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Post by Oliver on Jul 16, 2011 3:02:02 GMT -5
That afternoon he spent alone, in his little room, laying on his bed staring up at the darkening ceiling. He clutched, tightly, the vial that hung around his neck filled with a sampling of Iole’s blood. He realized that he had no pictures of her except the one with his father. But she was so young in it, it was hard to picture that as her, he had never known her at that time. No memory to clasp onto and hold tight, just a flat, yellowing piece of glorified paper. It tore him up inside like nothing else. He couldn’t find any peace.
After Lillith had left him, he sulked through the halls, passing as solemn and quiet as a ghost. Letting the world pass him by as he wondered in thought, with only Emily at his side. He found himself by the music room, vacant for now, and he entered, gazing over the instruments. He learned a little strings on the street, it was common for Burmecian’s to grow up with some form of folk music in their veins and anyone from the Crest picked up a few things here and there on how to play. His perusing of the instruments lead to him to happen upon a 4-stringed instrument, a plectrum banjo. He took the instrument in his hands, struck the chords and, liking what he heard, took it with him.
He now, once again, had the banjo in his arms and sat at the edge of the bed. The setting sun bathing him in its dwindling glow as he tuned the strings, then strummed his fingers along it. He played, finding the right melody and once he had, he begun to sing softly. The music permeating through the room and out the door, down the hall, but he cared not if anyone heard or if they were disturbed by his playing. He became lost in the moment as he sang to Iole, wherever she may be.
I I can't promise ye t’at I won't let you down An’ I I can't promise ye t’at I will be t’e only one around W’en your ‘ope falls down But we're young Open flowers in t’e windy fields of t’is war-torn world An’ love T’is city breat’es t’e plague of loving t’ings more t’an t’eir creators
I ran away I could not take t’e burden of bot’ me an’ you It was too fast Casting love on me as if it were a spell I could not break W’en it was a promise I could not make
But w’at if I was wrong? W’at if I was wrong? Oh w’at if I was wrong?
But ‘old on to w’at you believe in t’e lig’t W’en t’e darkness ‘as robbed you of all your sig’t ‘old on to w’at you believe in t’e lig’t W’en t’e darkness ‘as robbed you of all your sig’t
An’ now t’is lan’ Means less an’ less to me wit’out you breat’ing t’roug’ its trees At every turn T’e water runs away from me an’ t’e ‘alo disappears An’ t’e ‘ole w’en you're not near
So w’at if I was wrong? w’at if I was wrong... O' w’at if I was wrong?
But ‘old on to w’at you believe in t’e lig’t W’en t’e darkness ‘as robbed you of all your sig’t 'old on to w’at you believe In t’e lig’t W’en t’e darkness ‘as robbed you of all your sig’t
So ‘old on to w’at you believed in t’e lig’t...
((Following Brought Back Home, yeah I really want to post this so I posted it a little early))
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Post by Lillith on Jul 16, 2011 14:33:29 GMT -5
((wow that was beautiful. Did you write that yourself?))
::Oliver was so wrapped up in the music that he hadn't heard a pair of little bare feet creep into his room. In fact he didn't even notice the boy until he was sitting standing right beside him, his green eyes asking the unvoiced request to sit beside him on the bed::
Simon: That song was for Auntie wasn't it.
::Young Simon had nearly all of his father's smooth handsome features in miniature, with a childish roundness to his face. But his dark hair and bright green eyes belonged to Lillith. Lucky for him, the boy hadn't inherited the odd slits in her eyes. But Oliver had learned by experience that he had inherited her intuition and her fierce temper::
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Post by Oliver on Jul 16, 2011 15:09:07 GMT -5
((You kidding, I’m not that good. It’s Mumford & Sons, I just wrote it in Oliver’s ’accent’.)) Oliver finished the song with a soft strum and his voice trailing off. He sat the banjo down in his lap, flat, and rubbed Simon’s hair with his hand, smiling glumly.
“’ey, didn’t ye mum ever teac’ ye to not sneak into people’s rooms?” He playfully asked, “An’ ya, . A pity she ain’t ‘ere to hear it. Anyway, was jus’ t’inkin. Music ‘elps eases a troub’ed mind – or so t’ey say. Didn’t mean for it ta get an audience.” He plucked a string. “W’eres ye mum?” He asked, looking down at the boy with one curious platinum eye.
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Post by Guinevere on Jul 16, 2011 17:07:58 GMT -5
((haha you totally could have let me believe it!))
::Simon scooted himself onto the bed and tucked his tiny body against Oliver's side::
Simon: She's in her room. She might be asleep. She was sure mad about something. She said something about wanting to spank you. Aren't you too big for that?
::Before Oliver could answer he felt the boy's shoulders rise and fall with a sigh::
Simon: She's not talking to Daddy about what happened, and she asked Shaft for the ship. Are you and Mommy leaving?
::He tried to hide his face, but the way his voice broke and quivered told Oliver he was crying::
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Post by Oliver on Jul 16, 2011 19:01:01 GMT -5
Olive nodded, though didn’t wish to explain further, likely upset Simon or cause him undue worry. Not the kid wasn’t astute enough to grasp the gravity of the situation. Boy was too clever for his own good, at time, likely get him in trouble later in life.
“Aye, for’a bit. Got some business t’at needs addressed. We’ll be back soon enoug’ t’ough.” He pat Simon’s back. “Don’c’a worry now. Someone got’a watc’ t’is place w’ile she’s gone an ye deffinit’y don’t want to ‘et Shaft see ye been crying.”
He took a quick glance outside, judging the time. “Not’in serious an ‘ won’t take ‘ong, I promise.” He lied. He got to his feet, setting the banjo on the bed behind him. “Come on, les’go find ye mum.” He ushered the boy along with him, towards the door, when, something rumbled in his pocket followed by a muffled voice, ‘Ollie!’ it sounded. He quickly patted down his coats pockets, then felt that little cylindrical mirror. He opened the door to his room.
“’ey Kiddo, run on a’ead, be rig’t be’ind ye.”
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Post by Lillith on Jul 17, 2011 0:32:07 GMT -5
::Simon did as he was told, but stopped at the door and turned his green eyes on Oliver again::
You know, Mommy tells me to be brave sometimes too. It's always before she goes to do something dangerous.
::Then he takes his leave down the hall to find his mother::
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Post by Oliver on Jul 17, 2011 1:28:24 GMT -5
“S’ould listen to ‘er.” Oliver muttered as he fumbled through his coat for the mirror. He turns away then gazes into its reflective surface. Another face slowly forms, reflecting back.
“C’ive?” Oliver muttered, curiously. There, in the mirror was Clive’s face, gazing back.
“Ollie? Oh wow, you’re actually alive, go figure.” Clive retorted, sounding clearly perplexed. “Where are you? They told me you were killed in the attack.” “Me? W’at about ye!? W’ere t’e bloody ‘ell are ye?” “Can tell you where I’m not, I’m not sitting in a curry house chowing down on some delicious katsu curry, that’s for sure. Where the hell you think I am genius!? Right where you left me, you bastard!” “Triceutical?” “No, Costa Del Sol. Of course Triceutical. I was captured in the mainframe while you were out parading around like… what that word you always used, oh right, ‘ninny’.” Clive was clearly not amused. “Now, where are you?” “Leah.” “Oh Leah, how is the Garden? Enjoying your tea with Lillith while you ponder philosophical questions or are you planning something to get me the hell out of here?” “We got somet’ing cook’in.” “Oh, good, was afraid you forgot about little ol’me.” “’ow you get t’e mirror, didn’t confiscate it w’en ye were captured? Ye a prisoner, no?”
“Oh they confiscated it alright, and it depends on what your definition of ‘prisoner’ is. Am I behind bars, chained up and routinely beaten? No, not anymore. In fact they liked my ability to work with their AI system that I’ve been ‘hired’ to debug the system. Of course I can’t leave and being watched constantly. You know what it’s like for a guy like me to be trapped in one confined space for long periods of time – not pleasant. Least they’re giving me a decent benefits package, got to say that despite all my anti-corporate talk, they do offer some nice amenities – NOW GET ME OUT OF HERE!” “We’re work’in on it. W’at about t’e rest of t’e team? W’ere are t’ey.” “Dead? I dunno. I lost Nikolai and those guys when they went into the lower labs. And Eva I lost contact with when the Suits sprung their little trap. I’m not really getting a lot of info in here. I’m restricted to essential systems only, can’t really see what’s going on everywhere. Oh and before you ask, no, I have no idea what happened to Ierys or August. I think they’re still here, but I’m not certain.”
“I’ll come an’ get ye-“
“Don’t! Esthar is on alert, looking for anyone involved in the attack. Congrats man, we’re wanted terrorists! But don’t come here, not for a bit, it’s too hot right now. I’m trying to set-up a backdoor into the more secured systems so I can monitor more of the building. Maybe get access to some classified information, but it hasn’t exactly been easy going.”
“’ey, C’ive. My memory ‘as been kinda fuzzy. ‘ow did I escape?”
Clive’s eyes light up. “Oh man, it was EPIC! There were explosions and gun battles and motorcycles and more explosions and you were all like ‘Do ye expect me to talk!?’ and Miss Bardi was all like ‘No, I expect you to die!’, followed by an awesome kung-fu fight then you were all like ‘GET’TA T’E C’OPPER!’ and then there were rockets and missiles and then some slow-motion dramatic jumps to safety. Least that’s what it’ll be like when they show it in the movie. Anyway, stay clear of Esthar for awhile – not like you’re going to listen to me.” Clive looks up and away, hushing his voice. “Gotta go, keep you updated.” The mirror goes dark followed by Oliver’s reflection returning to its polished surfaced.
Oliver pockets it once more, then trots off towards Lillith’s room to tell her the news and find out their plans.
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Post by Lillith on Aug 8, 2011 12:05:02 GMT -5
(OOC: So so so sorry I vanished! But now I have a new Comp so I'm good to go!)
::Some time later, after all of their plans were made, Lillith and Oliver began to board the Inquisition. Shaft and Rose were saying a longer good-bye than they really need to. Shaft would go with them while Rose stayed behind to look after the students and Simon. During the planning, Lillith had been very straight-forward and all business, and for most of it Oliver couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was still furious with him. She didn't speak again until they had boarded and Shaft had the ship's engines firing up. But even then she kept her eyes on her feet as she spoke::
I'm sorry about what I said... in the basement. I don't know why I said it, it just sort of came out before I knew what I was saying.
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Post by Oliver on Aug 8, 2011 19:13:13 GMT -5
(OOC: You're not sorry *narrowed eyes* ) Oliver stood aloft as the ship's engines warmed and they prepared to leave, he had been mostly quiet since Lillith and him met up again. The awkward tension, mostly fabricated in Oliver's own mind, kept him feeling uncomfortable through the whole ordeal. He stood on deck, staring off into nothing as he waited for lift off. Lillith's apology startled him back into reality. He turned around to face her. "I's fine, suppose I needed it." He spoke frankly, still lingering with a hint of displeasure at himself. "So, 'et's c'arify t'is." Avoiding the subject any further, he turned back towards business. "Let's go over t'e plan again, t'e 'ighlights, 'ow we doing t'is?" (OOC: I really have no idea where we're going right now. We doing Esthar or shooting over to your storyline.)
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Post by Lillith on Aug 8, 2011 19:26:42 GMT -5
::Lillith's mood swings qiuckly to snap at him::
I was actually talking about the part where I called you my son. That was disrespectful on my part. The rest of it you deserved, no question.
(OOC: I wasn't too clear what we decided on. Did we want to continue on this SL, put it on the backburner or try to combine the two. I don't want to just come in and crash the party if you know what I mean)
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Post by Oliver on Aug 8, 2011 22:27:15 GMT -5
((OOC: With Clive, I left it on the back-burner for now, as hinted with the dialog. So lets get going with yours.))
Oliver snorted, he hadn't even thought about what she had said back there, but she was right. Tears welled up in his eyes, but his face, his expression was static. He sniffed once, then without a warning, embraced Lillith. "It was," His voice quivered, "But me mum wou'd be happy t'at you became me step-mum. T'at muc' I do know. An' sorry. Sorry for w'at I've done, but I'll make it rig't." His embrace broke and he stepped back. "However, we got more press'in matter's to worry about."
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Post by Lillith on Aug 8, 2011 23:38:16 GMT -5
::He felt Lillith return the embrace, but when he pulled away her face was as stoic as it had been a moment before. Nevertheless, he could see something swimming in her cat-like green eyes::
Right. First things first, I can get us into Triceutical without much of a fuss. Shaft filled me in on my return that they began funding the school not too long ago. Probably right after August left. I can get us in under the guise of a visit to discuss some business. That can get us in, but I can't gaurantee how far that will get us once we're inside. How much does she actually know about you?
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Post by Oliver on Aug 8, 2011 23:56:51 GMT -5
"If I knew, I'd tell ya." Oliver stated, trying to contemplate the possibilities. "T'ough, we tried under t'e guise of inspectors, didn't work so well. Forgive me if I'm not so'd on it." Oliver didn't appear completely sold on the plan. "An w'en we get inside, wit' t'at AI, how long do ye expect till we're discovered? C'ive said t'ey are on t'e look out for me an' I'm sure t'ey wi'l anticpate you an me toget'er. How many Burmecian's ya t'ink just wander into Esthar offices?"
Oliver wasn't sold on the idea, something he held back during the initial talk about the plan. Inflitration under disguise didn't work for him and he had knowledge and experience in it, how would Lillith's plan fair then? What did she know that he didn't it? Frankly, he loved her as a mother, but she wasn't in his eyes, a soldier as he was. He really feared telling her about the amount of custom built explosives he brought aboard for use in this or any operation they needed to do. He doubted she would be keen on the prospect, no matter what was at stake.
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Post by Lillith on Aug 9, 2011 1:10:32 GMT -5
Which is why you're not the one going in the front door this time.
::Her eyes got a glint in them as a coy smile spread across her face::
Look, I know you've been on your own for a long time now, but a little trust please. I was never much of a soldier, but I'll always be a damn good Witch.
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Post by Oliver on Aug 9, 2011 1:22:33 GMT -5
"I get t'at, well enough." Oliver retorted, "But I wonder if t'at wi'll be enough." The doubt in his voice, it wasn't directed at Lillith, but himself and his failure before this. His failure still lingered with him and cut deep.
"I got bombs, a'lotta t'em. We can use t'em to distract and disorientate, but I know t'is much, minute t'ey go off t'ey know who is up to it." There was no doubt in his voice or mind, he knew they would expect such an attack, but only tney could hope it would divert their attention long enough to allow Lillith or whoever to operate under a cloud of secrecy.
"I can hit t'e ventilation systems, throw their fire-systems into an open loop and cause the alarms and emergency systems to go buggered, but not for long. There will be smoke, c'aos, confusion, but it will only give us time. An t'ats assuming t'at AI won't figure it out before we can get our plans rollin."
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Post by Lillith on Aug 9, 2011 1:28:04 GMT -5
::Lillith's coy smile only broadened, and Oliver began to get the feeling she was enjoying this a little more than she had previously let on::
Do you suppose the facility has a sprinkler system? You know, in case of fire?
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Post by Oliver on Aug 9, 2011 1:32:20 GMT -5
"It's one'a t'e most advanced build'ins in t'e entire city of Esthar." Oliver replied, smugly. "W'at ya t'ink? 'ell they probab'y have foam suppressant or H'alon systems." He contemplates the possible scenarios. "We lucky, t'ey 'ave 'alon , an' just hope we can delay them long enough t'at the O2 is sucked straig't from t'eir lungs."
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Post by Lillith on Aug 9, 2011 1:36:37 GMT -5
(OOC: Awe shoot, you probably saw where I was going with that)
::The disappointment was clear on the sorceress' face::
Well I guess we'll work with what we have then. Just remember, nothing flashy until we're in position.
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Post by Oliver on Aug 9, 2011 1:46:20 GMT -5
"Aww..." Oliver exhales, "But I like flas'y." Recalling his actions back on the yacht. "A'right, we least get C'ive out and hope we can find the ot'res. Oh, an' t'en we hit a Curry House cause I real'y don't wanna listen to Clive complain about be'in hungry."
He checked the watch upon his wrist, "We do t'is quick enoug' we can be long gone before t'e local authorities descend upon us. I a'so have a stash of Rebreathers and weapons near the place. Let's stop t'ere first and stock up."
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Post by Lillith on Aug 9, 2011 1:54:26 GMT -5
::The way Lillith chuckled, you would have believed they were going his first date rather than a suicide mission against their ortal enemy. Then she said with a hint of pride to her voice::
I know it shouldn't, but when you talk like that, it still surprises me. Shaft, you heard him.
Shaft: ::from the cockpit:: Yes ma'am.
::Without warning he veered the ship to the side to avoid an updraft, and then all the cheeriness faded from her face and she started to look a little green::
Excuse me a minute.
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