"Oh Raxychaz, why you no update!?"
Blame Fire Emblem: Awakening, and FF14 Heavensward. Those fucking games man.
Anyway, less action, more talkin', just giving you a heads up.
Start.
"...So yeah...Now I'm here." Muttered Menma, seated against the Crossbreed his armoured skin not exactly as off putting to her as he imagined it would be.
"Thou hast truly slain the Princess of the Dark Sun?" Asked Priscilla, her voice slightly somber at the idea. Menma had no idea as to why the woman hadn't exactly made any formal knowledge of the Royals known to him during their talks, but then again it hadn't exactly come up before.
"I reduced her to a soul. I never completely killed her." Informed the Undead, producing said golden glowing soul in his palm, it exuded an unfamiliar warmth, Gwyndolin's power ebbing against his scaled hands. Priscilla stared at it curiously before she shook her head.
"I do not know what thou will do'st with the soul, but I beg thee not to harm the Princess any further than needed, she is a fragile creature." Informed the half-dragon, assumedly so. He was unaware what else could have scales, and the Stone Dragon down in the Lake had fur, though not nearly as soft as the pale woman.
"Did you know her?" Asked the draconian simply.
"Indeed, birds of a feather flock together as it goes. Though I will admit mine own relations to the princess were far from sociable I knew greatly of her plight, and of the treatment she received." Menma nodded silently, satisfied, mayhap a guardsmen spoke of it, or something like that. The how mattered little to him when it came to things like this.
Mostly because who gives a fuck about peopple.
"Come, Menma. It would do well for thee to have clothing outside of your armoured shell. I know of a set secreted away within the keep." She abruptly stood, baying he do the same, Menma sucked Gwyndolin's soul back within him and followed after her. The Crossbreed twirled her tail with his own, Menma almost gaffuaed at the ridiculously sappy scene playing out, but kept it in. To be true he'd appreciated it greatly, a sound distraction from the usual of the world around him.
"She is a gentle creature, I know not why the Gods feared her so...Well I do know but I feel the answer was extreme." Mused Quela, Menma mentally prompted her to elaborate, "This young woman has the power to kill gods, her scythe, her body. Both are weapons capable of felling them, and out of fear she was sealed into the asylum, when she grew too much, she was thrown into the painting. A shame really, her strength could have been a grand help in the past..."
"Well isn't that lovely. Any other fuckups I should know about?" He asked dryly, Quela felt offended before she swallowed her pride and accepted the barb for what it was, considering her own shortcomings.
"Fair point..." Muttered the woman, though she was long gone before any great troubles picked up. The Flame was her greatest foe.
"Well the wonderful thing about this land is that all things are their souls, returning to the previous conversation. The physical body seems to be just a representation of greater beings, I've noticed that if something 'drops' it's own soul then the body itself vanishes, this leads me to think that the soul is the real 'body' as it were." Suggested Menma, drawing the woman's attention.
"Though I seem to be an exception, because if greater beings have larger bodies to accommodate their souls, mine should have dropped a few times. More to think on I suppose. Perfectly normal segway though, it would appear the Chaos acted as a catalyst for the dragon scales on my skin, though the Great Dragon managed to change that form into an advanced form of his own covenants transformation, so basically I'm not some caged lemur anymore. I just got a fancy necklace." Menma idly tugged on said amulet, a reflex drawing of the crossbreed's eyes broke the intense stare upon his face.
"So thou art not a draconian as thine assumed?" She questioned, interestedly.
"Nope. Though I won't admit the idea of being caged in my own skin is something I'll miss, it was something else to fly around." Menma sighed wistfully, the idea of it already calling out to his blood to take flight once more. "But hey, who know what'll happen if I end up using the Chaos Edge in it's full power, I might grow random spines! That'd be a fuckin' trip, eh?" He jested lightly, she blinked her eyes gaining a faraway look as she gazed at his back.
"Please refraineth from growing such appendages, dearest one." The added drop of her name for him did sour that request slightly, Menma wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea but considering how unstable his DNA was and how volatile the Chaos was it was more than likely something that couldn't be avoided. Menma idly palmed the grip of the Chaos Edge and shook his head.
"You don't gotta worry, Pris'. I'm sure the Witch'd tell me if anything was about to happen." Menma pat her hand before standing up, pacing back and forth. Idly admiring the comfort of the clothes she'd found for him, they'd taken to walking about the painting during the chat. Most likely for the clothes.
It was an all black ensemble that was reserved for clerics of Velka, though he'd forgone the skull-cap/helmet thing because it was gaudy and intrusive, though he did end up finding a Painting Guardian's uniform, and ripping and tearing a length of cloth to cover up his closed third eye, that unfortunately stuck around. "Now I just need to think on what to do with myself, obviously getting little Ms. Uppity a new body or something, aside from that I need to..." Menma thoughts were interrupted as Orange appeared.
Searing words appeared on the ground, to Priscilla her dear one had just stopped abruptly and stared at the floor silently, she almost questioned thing before remembering something about this 'Orange' entity. Neither of them could think of what exactly it was.
"Well, apparently going to New Londo to speak with...Somebody, after killing a bunch of dudes in the darkness...But before I can do that I need to-Go back in time and kill a Knight!? Orange what the fuck are you on? How!?" Menma threw his arms up in exasperation, until the being began speaking once more.
"Go into the Duke's Archives just past the First Bonfire, kill a Crystal Golem, get an amulet, go to Darkroot and then through the anomaly I never bothered investigating...Orange sometimes dude..." Menma rubbed the ridge of his nose and sighed, shaking his head.
A puff of white smoke alerted him to the return of his summon, an sized snake appeared around his shoulders, it threw up a scroll into his hands before vanishing once more, "Stay classy, Kurotsu." Muttered the black clad god-killer.
"I have a great many questions..." Muttered Priscilla, blinking owlishly.
"You aren't the only one." Replied Menma, unrolling the scroll. "Dear Menma, blah blah, we miss you, blah blah, get home soon or we'll find a way to you, blah blah, your brother is going stir crazy without you here...It's gotten weirder. Well Naruto slutting around isn't exactly weird but dear ol' Mum and Dad probably didn't know about your thirst for the D, do they?" He questioned, chuckling at the idea of some pseudo intervention to curb the boy-whore.
"Your family hath sent a message to thee? I thought you could not returnest home."
"Summon ex Machina. Unlike a choice few summons a majority of the clans reside in another realm of existence that is linked directly to the Elemental Nations, and the Summoner themselves. The added bonus is that one of my friends is also on the contract, Anko, who lives in the same village as my parents. So I could return home, but I will admit I'm curious to see just how far all of this will end up going. Colour me curious." Menma was ultimately a self-serving creature. He would not deny this, but really the only reason he'd have to return would be to deal with whatever troubles Orochimaru was apparently causing, and if nothing else, being here made him a great deal stronger.
Menma slipped the scroll into a pouch, a seal sucked it inward within moments, "Alright, let's get you out of here before I bother deal with all this shit." Menma grabbed Priscilla's hand, making sure to secure her scythe as well, "Hold your breath, 'kay?" He asked with an impish smile.
Priscilla's heart was pounding like a piston, she was going to leave the painting? And be around other living creatures? She wasn't ready for this, what if her power went wild? What if in leaving the painting she set off a chain reaction which would create endless chaos, there had to be a reason she was put into the painting right?!
Before should could dwell any further Menma wrapped his arms around her, still a little miffed her only went up to her heart but also kinda pleased because he got such a pleasant headspace, they were swallowed up by blue fire leaving not a single cinder in their wake.
Stone Dragon (Play the Stone Dragon – OST)
"'Sup big guy." Greeted Menma, separating from the woman, handing her the scythe. Pris' took it quickly, holding onto it like a security blanket, and then him. Pulling his back into her bosom and looking around like a scared rabbit.
"You. Have. Returned." It spoke, it fucking spoke. The booming voices of millions, echoing around the small, ashy glade it had for itself began some kind of symphonic blast of music. Menma had no idea where this shit was always coming from but damn was it atmosphereic as fuck.
"Aye, though I was under the impression you were mute." Said Menma, subbing out with a copy so he could speak with the beast and keep Priscilla calm at the same time.
"We, are able...We simply choose not to." Spoke the beast, Menma could idly make out some kind of accent, though couldn't exactly place it. Although the way it addressed itself was interesting indeed, speaking with 'we' instead of 'I' or even in first person. "Our kin are deaf to our words...So we must resort to the tongue of, Man." Sombre tones for a sombre sentence. Though Menma did idly notice that dragon made no inflection when he said 'Man' like most creatures of some status did when it came to his old species, or current one. That was still kind of a grey area for him.
"My word...I had no idea they could even form thoughts..." Whispered the Witch.
"Did anyone ever try speaking with them?" Silence was his answer, even the burning within his mind was silenced, "Quela?..ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WOMAN!?" No one bothered to try to speak with the objects of their genocidal campaign? By all that is fuckign unholy 'Gods' were a pack of shits.
"How does one approach giant monoliths of stone and silence!?" Returned the witch, with equal ferocity. Not the demure woman she'd have him believe, she wanted retribution not to be put below a human of all things.
Must have been her vanity or pride that conjured that thought.
"You're right, I mean between burning everything around them and hurling lightning bolts, where could you find the time?" Spat back Menma, venomously. Once more silence was his answer, "I'm really trying to find some fucking speck of good in this place, Quela. So do me a favour, don't bring up shit like this anymore, we'll both just end up hating each other before long." Menma knew an approaching pattern when he saw one, or heard in this case, and destructive relationships always went down this road. Menma needed more people to speak with, connect with, in this land or he'd go fucking crazy.
He'd also admit that he wanted to drill her into the centre of the sun, but that was neither here nor there.
No ulterior motives, gentlemen.
"I see...Well, I just wanted to thank you. For helping me out with the whole 'Skin or steel' thing I had going on when I came through here earlier." The dragon blinked slowly but made no other movement.
"Your thanks, is needless. The blood of the Covenant is thicker than the waters of the womb. We shall call upon you when needed, the Drakes are imperfect in their attempts. You will not be." Well that was cryptic, and more than a little uninformative.
"Cool. I'll do that. See you when you need me." Menma tilted his head, the clone puffed away, the crossbreed quickly grabbing his arm as they were swallowed by the flames once more, the Dragon blinked and stared back up into the grey skies.
Quelaag's Domain
Menma and the crossbreed appeared in the centre of the Domain, nestled into the alcove Quelara previously occupied. Said maiden in white had to duck to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling. Menma looked around curiously not seeing the witches in the immediate area.
Light steps did end up finding his ears though, Menma turned to the previously shut pair of stone door at the end of the enclave, out stepped a lanky fellow with ashen grey skin and shaggy grey hair, he hair tired red eyes and wore a more masculine version of the witches robes, it was less loose and showed off his gender a good deal easier.
This was more than likely to avoid any kind of confusion. It'd be a bitch to think you were chatting up a Witch when in reality it was a Warlock. "Oh!" He snapped from his tired daze and seemed to brighten before their eyes, "You are the man who saved us, yes? My sisters said you may have been corrupted by the Chaos...You look fine though." He observed, looking the man before him up and down speculatively.
"Got a quick fix. Just figured I'd drop in and tell them, we didn't part on the lightest of notes." Informed the black clad man, getting a nod from the grey haired male, he spun on his heel idly tapping his temple.
"You boytoy is here, Sister." Menma blinked looking at the crouching Crossbreed who was looking from side to side, freaking the fuck out.
"Calm down, darlin' we aren't staying long. I just wanted to let them know I'm fine." She nodded mutely, gripping his arm, resting her head against his.
He really was going to have to get used to the girl being taller.
"I wisheth thou would have told me before whisking me away."
"And if I did would you have come with me?"
"...Perhaps, not." Admitted the woman, Menma smirked up at her making her brow furrow.
"Gotta take a leap of faith, or you'll never move." Menma imparted, the sound of many steps signaling the Witches, Menma waved absently to greet them.
"My dear, come to show off? And you never picked up your reward. Tsk, tsk tsk." Lamented Quelahr, shaking her head.
"I didn't even know if I still had a dick because of the shell. I'm not sorry if sex wasn't on my radar." The Witch chuckled into her palm.
The White Spider, who wasn't a spider anymore, managed to slowly follow behind the pack, "It is wonderful to see you well, dear Menma." Quelara was bright as a sun, Menma smiled down at the petite albino, she managed to hug him. Kirk shadowing her if she needs to be caught. Menma managed to wriggle his arm mostly free to hug the adorable girl back.
The Knight of Thorns was clad in an armour that lacked its usual spikes, instead having smooth plates. Though it kept the same rusty, dried blood colour the Knight was known for.
"Who is this..?" She asked, looking up at Priscilla.
"This is Priscilla, she's someone dear to me. I'm breaking her from her cage, so to speak." He informed amusedly, Quelara stepped back, Kirk offering an arm to steady the woman.
"Ah, so you return. I suppose now would be a good time to ask why I sense the Chaos flame in that blade of yours." Prodded Quelaag, Menma's gaze shifted, cutting right through them all but the ebony haired woman. "You never revealed exactly how it is you managed to remove the Chaos in the way you did."
"You are aware the whole surface-thoughts telepathy thing works both ways, right? Little Ms. Use em and toss em." Informed Menma, his tone was calm but the smugness that he got from seeing her writhe under his stare was a little trickier to suppress, "I captured the power of the Bed into this sword. It's an art from my lands called 'Sealing'. By drawing up the correct diagram you can accomplish anything, the same way I healed Quelara." Whilst he knew two of the sisters were aware of Sealing, he figured he'd use layman's terms to avoid a more in depth conversation on the matter.
"So, all the power just sits in that little sword of yours?" Asked Quelahr, the red eyed woman's gaze filled with mirth at the double entendre.
"Also the soul of a Lord." Informed Menma, unsheathing the blade, flames began burning along its edge, the red script glowed a volatile orange. The obsidian blade almost seemed to break apart, growing in length slightly, the arm of the man that gripped the blade reverted to its old chaotic form in turn. His fingers glowing with the bright azure blue as armour formed over his skin, though instead of being his skin, Menma felt this seemed to affect only his glove. So far.
A phantom formed the flame, "Oh my...What do we have here?" Asked the swordsman curiously. The flames imploded and a ghostly form of the Witch of Izalith herself formed, transparent as she was. She merely smiled serenely 'neath her hood at her children all of them gaping like dying fish at the sight of her.
"I love you all, dearly." Imparted the Witch, before her form was once more consumed by flames and returned to the blade.
"Bring her back this instant!" Roared Quiran.
"I had no idea she could even do that, so I don't know how to assist her into doing so. It was my assumption her consciousness could only interact with my own." Said Menma, looking at the blade in fascination, running his free hand along the blunt, as his finger came into contact with said blade it grew the armour upon it.
"So you shackled our mother to your sword in a bid to grab power?" Snarled Quelaag.
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard come from your mouth." Informed Menma, making her blink owlishly, and rear back slightly as though she'd been struck, "This was the only way I knew to destroy the Chaos, the fact that her soul was strong enough after all this time to retain a focused mind speaks volumes of her iron will. So take those assumptions and shove them up your ass." Now she really did look like she'd been backhanded.
"Meow~." Quelahr growled to Quelana who rolled her eyes.
"Arguments will yield, what we can be happy for is that the Chaos is banished, somewhat, our saviour is hale and healthy, and our mother has returned to her sanity."
"You only say that because he is your student!" Snapped Quelaag.
Quelana frowned, "That has nothing to do with it, fool sister. He has done us all a great service, and yet you would treat him with open hostility, for what? Because he does not dance to your strings like whipped child?"
"Okaaaay! It was super nice seeing you all, clearly there are some things you all need to sort out, Imma bounce." Taking the Crossbreed in arm they were both swallowed by the flames of the bonfire and gone in an instant.
Firelink Shrine
The pair of giants appeared in the centre of the Shrine, Menma embraced the warm caress of the sun, "I refuse to question the sun in this land, it makes no sense." Said the Vessel of Chaos.
"Ah! My friend it is good to see you once more, and what fine company you have, would you care to introduce us?" Came a familiar voice, Menma felt a grin pull across his lips, for it was the Sunbro, Solaire. Flanking him was the Onion Bro, Siegmeyer.
"Why hello gentlemen, do I have a story for you!"
End Of Chapterino.
R&R.
Raxychaz!