I am the Holy Grail you seek,
though I warn, my drink not weak,
but if it knowledge that you seek,
drink my drought til thy interest's peaked.
But if you wish to live without my drought,
for it is painful, that no doubt,
be warned for it can spell your doom,
like a stillborn babe in thy mother's womb. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zeta was jarred from his resting position by a noise in front of him. A part of his internal programming was startled by the fact that he hadn't heard anything before it was right in front of him. Had he gotten that far in mimicking human behavior that he didn't notice it and had begun to simply slip into human tendencies? He was distracted from this line of thought, though, by the sight in front of him.
It seemed to be a transparent figure of a woman, dressed in dazzling white and gold. Clouds of blue stars danced at her feet and head, obscuring her face. Was this an angel? His CPU must have truly shorted out.
:: Shush, little one. You are not going mad, nor are you dead. But your soul screams with such anguish that I could not help but to hear. You were such an inspiration for others in your quest for a soul, and now you have thrown it all away. We give you such a gift of knowledge, little fool, and can't use it. What would Rosalie say?::
Zeta looked away, but the light was seared onto his lenses. "She'd call me stupid. She'd want me free. But I can't postulate my freedom without her. Does that make me a fool?" He looked back up at the woman, and saw a smile full of pity among the stars.
::You are only a fool like that depicted on the deck of cards. But now, if you try and you use your gift, you may yet become a magus. You search for the holy cup, but now your companion has become the source, you shy away from the task. Do not lose thy gift so quickly, child. For you must understand out of all, Hope is the most holy gift of all.:: And with that, she touched his metal forehead, letting her fingers pass through his metal walls and caress his soul. In that moment of touch, he was filled with images of the world as a whole, people fighting, loving, feeling. But he saw one image and focused on it with his entire soul: Rosalie, white and gaunt, but blissfully asleep, in a cold dark place. She was alive, and she needed saving.
::Take care, my little knight. And may your quest bring you to the Holy Grail.:: His vision cleared as she faded away, those blue stars fading last. But they stayed in his holographic blue eyes as he stood determined, pulling back the image of the black haired companion of Ro. But now he dressed in black street armor, leathers and jeans. His face was a mask of determination.
This knight was ready for war.
West awoke clutching the side of his head. All he remembered was seeing the synthoid stand up suddenly and turning back on his familiar hologram. But he then remembered the dark look to him, and the strange visage of determination. He looked around to see the weapons gone, and a message cut starkly into the wall.
I will find her.
---------
The image of the avatar is inspired from Promethea, by Alan Moore. And yes, there are going to be more allusions to the Arthurian legend of the Holy Grail. But I'm going here for the more psychological meaning behind of the legend- Man in search of the woman. I'll explain it better later.
Zee in leather.. *SWOON*
though I warn, my drink not weak,
but if it knowledge that you seek,
drink my drought til thy interest's peaked.
But if you wish to live without my drought,
for it is painful, that no doubt,
be warned for it can spell your doom,
like a stillborn babe in thy mother's womb. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zeta was jarred from his resting position by a noise in front of him. A part of his internal programming was startled by the fact that he hadn't heard anything before it was right in front of him. Had he gotten that far in mimicking human behavior that he didn't notice it and had begun to simply slip into human tendencies? He was distracted from this line of thought, though, by the sight in front of him.
It seemed to be a transparent figure of a woman, dressed in dazzling white and gold. Clouds of blue stars danced at her feet and head, obscuring her face. Was this an angel? His CPU must have truly shorted out.
:: Shush, little one. You are not going mad, nor are you dead. But your soul screams with such anguish that I could not help but to hear. You were such an inspiration for others in your quest for a soul, and now you have thrown it all away. We give you such a gift of knowledge, little fool, and can't use it. What would Rosalie say?::
Zeta looked away, but the light was seared onto his lenses. "She'd call me stupid. She'd want me free. But I can't postulate my freedom without her. Does that make me a fool?" He looked back up at the woman, and saw a smile full of pity among the stars.
::You are only a fool like that depicted on the deck of cards. But now, if you try and you use your gift, you may yet become a magus. You search for the holy cup, but now your companion has become the source, you shy away from the task. Do not lose thy gift so quickly, child. For you must understand out of all, Hope is the most holy gift of all.:: And with that, she touched his metal forehead, letting her fingers pass through his metal walls and caress his soul. In that moment of touch, he was filled with images of the world as a whole, people fighting, loving, feeling. But he saw one image and focused on it with his entire soul: Rosalie, white and gaunt, but blissfully asleep, in a cold dark place. She was alive, and she needed saving.
::Take care, my little knight. And may your quest bring you to the Holy Grail.:: His vision cleared as she faded away, those blue stars fading last. But they stayed in his holographic blue eyes as he stood determined, pulling back the image of the black haired companion of Ro. But now he dressed in black street armor, leathers and jeans. His face was a mask of determination.
This knight was ready for war.
West awoke clutching the side of his head. All he remembered was seeing the synthoid stand up suddenly and turning back on his familiar hologram. But he then remembered the dark look to him, and the strange visage of determination. He looked around to see the weapons gone, and a message cut starkly into the wall.
I will find her.
---------
The image of the avatar is inspired from Promethea, by Alan Moore. And yes, there are going to be more allusions to the Arthurian legend of the Holy Grail. But I'm going here for the more psychological meaning behind of the legend- Man in search of the woman. I'll explain it better later.
Zee in leather.. *SWOON*