Memories of the Blue Hour
"Dialogue"
Thoughts, emphasis, etc.
/ Flashbacks and dreams /
*sounds, actions*
Formal attack names
"Akuma (in their true forms) speech"
[Time passing]
- Nightmare –
When one brushes with death, a person is said to see their entire life flash through their eyes. Raven was very certain he was not dead, though. He knew in the back of his head he was dreaming, but the reminder didn't stop the tears from leaking as he slept. A tide of memory buried his conscious once more.
/ Cold. It was cold that day. Winter had just set, and the streets of the city were silent. A little boy of no more than six years darted along the shadows and through the alleys. He had just scored a bit of coin, enough for some better clothes he hoped. The boy made sure to keep the scarf wrapped firmly around his face. Better blind than face what the other streets would do to such a strange creature.
The little boy thought he was home free until he slammed into a passing child, maybe two years older than him.
"Oi, watch it, ya little-!"
Shouting interrupted the boy's rant. The younger boy darted behind a dumpster just as an angry old man stumbled into the alley.
"Hey, kid! Have you seen this street rat around? Younger than you with black hair? Wears a scarf like it's a mask."
"A little waif like that? Ya, I've seen 'im."
Dead, he was dead. The boy awaited his fate with bated breath.
"Saw him ran past this alley and dart into another one maybe a block or two away. If ya hurry, ya can catch 'im."
The elderly man grunted his thanks and rudely turned on his heel without another word.
"Stupid nobles," grumbled the older boy. He walked over and hauled the little waif out. "Now, what did ya take from 'im to make 'im chase ya all the way out here?"
Red smirked as the younger child pulled a little bag off his neck to reveal a dozen of shiny coins.
"Nice pickings. But don't you get tired of running? Don't ya have a family or something?"
The waif shook his head in the negative. He gestured toward his face.
"Do your parents abandon ya because of a disfigurement or something? Or are ya blind?" Red felt a twinge of empathy, right hand unconsciously clutching the left one.
The little boy tugged at the scarf. It fell apart to reveal yellow eyes and blackbird markings. The boy then turned around to pull his oversized shirt down. Red really did gape, mouth open and all, when he caught sight of freaking black and white and scrawny bird wings on the kid's back. Then he laughed.
"Man, oh man! You're not much different from me, aren't ya?" Red pulled off his glove. A red and scaly arm laid limp. "Quite a pair, aren't we? Why don't ya come back with me?" Red asked on impulse. "The circus could always use another pair of hands. Time to grab some eats, too."
The little boy nodded his head enthusiastically, stomach growling emphasizing his agreement. Red guffawed and rubbed the younger boy's head in a rare show of affection. Huh, weird. I guess I can't help but pity the kid.
"So, what should I call ya? I'm called Red for my arm. You are…?
"Raven," whispered the lost boy, "My parents used to call me Raven. /
Raven would never forget the first time he met Red, the person Allen was before Allen. They worked together at the circus for over a year. Allen was the only one to have seen Raven's uncovered face and wings. They became nearly inseparable. Their bond only deepened from the loyalty of two lost boys in the harsh life of circus folk to that of brothers when Mana the clown adopted them when Allen was about seven and Raven was about five. He was never happier than then. But happiness could be so fragile.
/ Raven had just left for a moment to grab some water and food. Allen and he had stood vigilance over Mana's grave for days. Raven had lost his parents before and weathered the grief a bit better, but Allen was nearly unresponsive. The younger boy had just left to grab some water and grub.
He had climbed back up the hill when his eyes began to go loopy. Raven knew he was weird. Not everyone could see those weird ghost things (and he learned long ago not to draw attention to himself by pointing them out), but this was different. His eyes beneath the facemask (the very same one Mana gave him when he was eight years old) felt like they were burning. His vision blurred before focusing on something hanging by the grave. He could barely make out a figure beneath that – a billowing cloak of black with random shades of purple here and there. The aura caused shivers to wrack his willowy frame.
The thump of his package of food and water slipping from his grip broke him out his reverie. Allen. The weirdo monster guy was hanging in the same area as Mana's gravestone. Where Allen had stayed ever since the burial.
Raven broke out in a full run.
"Mana!"
He was too late. He watched in horror as he saw a specter, the same kind he's seen around some people they passed by, become bound to a horrid skeleton with a lighter cloak of dark purple. Akuma. Raven had not time to consider where he heard that word. All he could see was the monster that had his foster father's soul rear up and slashed his older brother's face.
"Allen!" he cried. Standing a little ways way, a large man grinned hysterically.
"Go, my akuma. Kill the boy and wear his skin!"
Green surged in his vision. One moment, he was running, the next moment he was flying, dropping in front of his brother to block the incoming attack even as Allen's red left arm paled to bone white and grew.
"No, Dad!"
"Father…" whispered the horrified younger accommodator.
A black wing neatly severed the arm of the akuma, and the huge white hand smashed it to the ground. Both reared upward.
"Allen, Raven, I love you… So, please destroy me," pleaded the monster who was their father.
Ash exploded into the air with the final strike, and two new accommodators took to the stage. /
Both boys were in a state of shock. Then this red-haired guy came and offered them the chance to become accommodators. Raven had no idea where the monster who offered to bring their father's soul back went.
Raven couldn't rightly remember what happened next. From what Mother had told them, they were in a state of shock for several weeks. Raven snapped out of it first. He spent many of the next days fruitlessly begging his older brother to respond, to cry or yell, to do something! Nothing. Nothing until one day Allen finally woke up. But it wasn't the same Allen.
/ "Allen?" For the first time in too many long days, Allen had life in his eyes. Raven's smile slipped, though, when Allen opened in mouth.
Allen didn't talk or act like Allen. He spoke too formerly, too kindly. Not a trace of the angry brat that was Red remained. Raven pulled pranks, goofed around, did all sorts of stupid things, but this mask of Allen's, no, of Mana's wouldn't break.
Where Raven wore a physical mask over his face and acted more like himself than without it, Allen wore a mask made of smiles and manners and behaved nothing like the boy Raven once knew.
Years would pass during their training. Allen continued to wear his mask, even when Raven willingly took off his white one in an effort to bond with his older brother. It didn't do a thing, and Raven felt too out of place without something covering his face. Eventually, traces of Red reintegrated in what Raven lovingly dubbed "Black Allen". The younger exorcist adapted to the new Allen, but some nights he would reminisce on the street savvy brat who saved the shy lost one those many years ago.
Some nights, Raven wished for his first brother back. /
- The Play Begins -
His consciousness hovered on the border between waking and dreaming. He just needed a little more…A surge of pain and sorrow!
Raven was on his feet in an instant. His eyes honed in on the malicious energies of akuma. Lenalee had woken up, too, as she smashed one akuma heading for Komui. He spread his wings.
"Dark Skies: Shining!" Hundreds of feathers fell on another sneaky akuma, their tips shining so brightly that the entire feather glittered white. The whirlwind of razor sharp feathers rendered the akuma to ash.
"Lenalee, Raven."
Uncovered gold eyes drifted off to somewhere behind the small old man with a single odd ponytail.
"Mr. Panda-faced sir, you might want to move-"
Allen and another young man crashed through the wall. The old man managed to dodge out of the way in time, but debris covered the two of them.
"YOU DAMN BRATS!" fumed the old man. The red-haired brat with an eyepatch sweat dropped.
Once everyone settled, Raven learned of the other two exorcists as Bookman and Lavi, members of the Bookman Clan. Raven heard of the clan only through some rather interesting (and explicitly forbidden) books of his master's. There were hailed as the chroniclers of the secret history of the world. Bookman had also been the one to tend to the three exorcists.
They all took a carriage to the nearest train station.
During the interim of their mission, a general had been murdered: Kevin Yeegar. He died horribly, staked backward to a cross with the words "God hunt" carved into his back. Generals (except maybe Master) carried many fragments of Innocence with them in order to discover more accommodators on their travels. The most horrible part of the man's death, was the revelation of why he died. The enemy had driven General Yeegar to madness. To his last breath, the poor old man sung a haunting song: "The Millennium Count is searching ~…Searching for the precious heart ~…It wasn't me…Next, who'll it be? ~"
The heart. According to Komui, the heart of Innocence supplied the power of all other fragments. It the most powerful of them all. Should it break, so would their Innocence. One side wanted to protect it. The other side wanted to crush it. Both sides needed it to end the war once and for all.
The most like people to hold the heart were the generals. The group now had a new mission: find and protect General Cross Marian.