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| Cat and Mouse |
| (2012-12-03 - 2012-12-03) |
| No description. |
| Faruja Senra | A Church bell rings, and the paritioners file out in a semi-orderly manner. Even the recent attack upon the Church hasn't dampened the spirits of the old Priest and the faithful there, much to one Temple Knight Faruja Senra's delight. Bowing to several passing persons, he steps away from the doors of the Church, face thoughtful and conflicted even after the sermon. A frown sits on his muzzle as he passes by a small merchant's cart, ordering a meatstick, and chewing away after paying. "What ever does one do against Darkness when its source is yet so veiled." |
| Cheshire Cat | "Isn't the darkness itself a veil?" Comes a voice from behind Faruja, its source might not be immediately apparent, but it's a disembodied grin floating in front of the merchant's cart, "When the veil hides itself, how can one light the veil?" The same voice asks, clearly the grin, but there's nothing more to that grin right now. |
| Faruja Senra | A grin. A /floating/ grin. Faruja steps back, body tensing, tail lashing as he gazes with suspicion and surprise. A moment later, he processes the words. A hand, reaching for his weapon, stills. "...One must light it with a torch. One, or one million of them, should the Darkness prove sufficiently deep. At the edges of such a blaze, the Abyssal Veil shall cower." |
| Cheshire Cat | The grin gains eyes falling from the sky, and a head materializes around it. It's still floating and without body, "Then what are you waiting for?" The question is sufficiently innocent, but the answer might prove difficult. The head moves up, and a purple ribbon forms the outline of a man, which then is filled in with pink to form a man. "It's not fear, I hope? There is no reason to be afraid." |
| Faruja Senra | The rat's jaw sets. Frustration, anger, even shame in his single eye. "A light cast, no matter how bright, has its limits. One must cast it in the appropriate place, and ensure it is of sufficient brightness. We know not the depth of the Darkness arrayed, nor how many souls of sufficient light may be willing to carry a torch in such an effort." The image changes, and a man appears. It only causes the Burmecian to step back warily. "I fear many things. Failure, the loss of friends, to be lost in the Lord's sight. I have peered into the Abyss itself. My soul, gripped with terror, showed its mortal make all too well. But as a wise man once said, we must let our fears drive us forward. For none are without fear. To move forward, bravely, even in the face of horrors most vile is the mark of a Knight." A pause, and a shake of the head. "There is always cause to further master onesself, and thy fears." |
| Cheshire Cat | "Are you afraid of sacrifice?" The man asks, now leaning against another cart and that feline grin there, never disappearing, never once getting a fraction of an inch less wide. "It takes a special kind of insanity to believe in victory without loss." He lifts his eyebrows and hair as though they were a hat, tipping it, "You may call me Felix Cheshire." He puts them back as though nothing is weird about that. |
| Faruja Senra | An eye closes. The question has the armor-wearing rat flinch, as if hit by a great weapon. He remembers those lost, those he couldn't save, and those presumed gone. That eye opens, and he stares back. "I am young, Ser, but not a fool. There shall be death, loss, and glorious triumph ahead. Yes. I fear sacrificing the lives of dear friends. They are far too precious in such blighted days. 'Tis better to stay by their side, and offers ones self up before they are lost." Sigh. "But one cannot always be there. And none are perfect. My conscious mind recognizes that to engage in a fight against any enemy there shall be casualties. My heart weeps at the thought." Why was he pouring his soul out to this odd man? He must be more desperate and conflicted than he'd realized. "Temple Knight Faruja Senra of the Most Holy Church of Saint Ajora Glabados." A low bow. The tipping of hair has the rat narrowing his eye. "At the risk of rudeness, what exactly are you, Ser Cheshire?" |
| Cheshire Cat | "I am me." The man answers, returning the bow with one of his own, then straightening again, walking over to sit on a nearby bench, "The question always remains, how much do I wish to become like what I am fighting?" The implied question is clear, how much do you, Faruja. "When light and darkness meet, what is born? What needs to happen for light to destroy the darkness?" |
| Faruja Senra | Another meatstick is bought, and as the odd man goes to sit, Faruja joins him. The second stick is offered. Rude to eat alone in front of a companion, after all. "One may know their opponent, and fight him, without becoming him. To make use of, or allow Darkness into one's soul merely hastens defeat. For the Darkness is a disease, one of the soul. It corrupts all it touches, turning what may once have been a good and pious man into a murderer, or a monster seeking the blood of friend and foe alike. Much like any growth, it must be cut out and tossed aside." "The light simply must be greater in force than the darkness. For radiance, ever growing, causes shadow to shrink away until there nothing but pure light." |
| Cheshire Cat | "Have you prepared to bring light to every nook and cranny? Or will you allow darkness a place to hide, a nook where it can fester and lick its wounds until the light has all but forgotten the darkness ever existed?" Cheshire turns the metaphor back at Faruja, but denies the meatstick with a dismissive way, "How much like the darkness will the light have to become to permeate every place where darkness could hide?" |
| Faruja Senra | Faruja, so conflicted before, smiles. It's the thought he's had a thousand times. "The world is so very large. And now? 'Tis beyond any single person. Nay, any single body of people. Cracks are everywhere. So small, for the most part. But some gaping. It, so much as I wish to think otherwise, is a fight nigh eternal. We must be strong, and united in purpose, to drive away the Darkness from the open. And when it sinks into the cracks, we must be ever-vigilant to seek them out, and do what we must in order to seal them closed. Ignorance, deceit, and greed are the allies of Darkness. We cannot allow the Darkness to ever be forgotten. Its tale must be told, and the means to fight it shared." "The light and darkness are ever linked. Evil and good are but faces of each other; one destruction, one life. We all have some small spark of both. That small spark, even in the most pure, is a gift given by the Lord. We recognize it, and through Faith, we master its base desires and selfishness." |
| Cheshire Cat | Again, Cheshire asks a pair of questions. "Then what are you waiting for?" It's a question he's asked before, but now the circumstamces seem different, his tone is identical. "What holds you back?" He's probing, never sharing anything beyond what he asks, but the questions might provoke questions that he doesn't state explicitly, they might provoke thought. |
| Faruja Senra | The probing questions hit. A shake of his bandaged head. "...I suppose, the problem, lies in not knowing ones allies from enemies. For the most part, an outward glance tells us nothing. Darkness is deceptive. So easily can it find its way into anyone. How can a person tell who is pure, and who is corrupt? And worst yet, the face of the enemy is numerous. What head is there to cleave from the snake, when all appear as simple tails? Victory must be decisive. Yet, all around, we do nothing but stem tides and eat away at the edges of the problem. I fear the Light is yet too divided, and weak." A pause. "Myself most of all." |
| Cheshire Cat | "Have you met Reize Seatlan?" The man asks as he gets up, walking away and past a lamp post. On the other side of the lamp post he doesn't appear. His voice is gone, and apparently, the man it belongs to is too. He leaves Faruja to his thoughts, and even if there is no-one to hear answer, the question might double as a suggestion. |
| Faruja Senra | Twin, ragged ears perk. Faruja stands, body stiffening. Gaze narrowing, the rat stalks to the spot where the voice and man fade at. Teeth grind, and he squeaks in a menacing tone; that of a rabid rat, or a mother rat protecting its offspring. "...I do not know who you are, or what you intend, Ser Cheshire. But the boy is young, and stout of heart. Lead him not astray." |