[Open] I think with my heart and I move with my head. I open my mouth and it's something I've read.

[dominateartimus]

Who: Sandrath & you?
What: A fallen arch-angel just wandering around the ship, investigating things where he can. (He still hasn't bothered to check the communicator.)
When: All day during October 1st - 7th
Where: Around the Black Tide.
Warnings: Possible violence against the Nameless and on deck 10. Will update if things change.
Notes: Brackets or prose is fine. Feel free to pick a date, time and prompt. If you pick 'Sandra' for the market prompt, don't be alarmed if you are tagged with sanindisguise.
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[Interacting with the Nameless]
Through-out the course of being on this boat, Sandrath had taken notice of the Nameless right away with their sewn mouths. His morbid curiosity nagged at him every time he would pass one, wondering how they ended up in their current situation and who had done it. There was probably a reason behind it. Majority of the time, it was due to a deal and sometimes not in the favor of the person who made it or they made an oath and couldn't speak of it without being punished.

Then again, they could be puppets. He's had his fair share of experience with puppeteers. They would sink their threads in to their targets to have better control of them. Any injuries they had would be patched up by their controller, only giving them more power. Arthur was unfortunate to have experience that first hand with being unable to speak or move on his own. Thankfully, the fallen arch-angel had shown up and burned the thread that kept him prisoner. The half grim reaper owed him quite a debt for that rescue. Perhaps he could get the same gratitude from the Nameless.

"Hey." He called out to one that was passing by before reaching out to grab them by their arm. "I'd like to have a few words with you."

A bit of a smile appeared on his lips as he summoned a knife to his other hand.


[Messing around in the orchestra pit on deck 4]
If someone was to pass by the Royale opera house, they could hear someone tuning or playing one of the string or percussion instruments. But, with every strike from a drum, a slight cough could be heard. That was the user's fault for not bothering to remove the dust that was coating the items.


[Browsing the market place on deck 6; Sandrath or 'Sandra']
Sandrath had visited the market not long after his arrival, but didn't take anything during that time. This visit was different though. He could be spotted in the clothing section, placing several articles of clothing in to bags. They were nice looking and appeared to fit his 6'3" figure. Or maybe you were unfortunate to spot him venturing in to the adult section of the market.

Or perhaps you found a 5'6" brunette woman instead, who was wearing a red dress and sandals. She was browsing the clothing section for the most part, but she could be found in other areas of the market. Although, if you were to approach her, you would need to get her attention by being verbal or touching her arm since she seemed to be lost in thought or debating between two items.


[Out in the Rain; Oct. 3rd and onward]
Ever since the storm started, the fallen arch-angel wasn't hindered or bothered by it's presence. If anything, it was somewhat comforting to hear the rain hit the outside of the boat and the distant clash of thunder. It almost reflected his own mood, with the loss of how effective his abilities were and the annoyance of being stuck on a vassal without being able to leave.

Yet, here he was standing out in the rain and completely drenched. His hair was flat against his skull and it would sometimes get in his eyes, which he would occasionally brush away to only have it return to its previous spot. He didn't care that his wet clothes clung to his frame, leaving not much to the imagination.

Will you approach and try to convince him to get out of the rain?


[Visiting the darkness on Deck 10; Oct. 7th]
Sandrath had steadily gone through each deck as thoroughly as he could. He wasn't surprised when the elevator denied him access when he pressed the button for deck 10. It had done this before when he tried to visit deck 2 and venturing out of the cable car with his shadow mimicry didn't lead to much results either. So, he tried again but with a swipe of his key card before pressing the button again. Much to his surprise, it worked.

When the elevator arrived at its stop and opened its doors, he promptly stepped out without a second thought. As the doors close, he turns on his senses and summons a small weapon to his hand, anticipating something to happen.

Comments

[dominateartimus]

Or not. The wail causes him to cover his ears and because of that, notices that his weapon is missing from his hand. Why wasn't he in the shadows? So, he tries again but nothing changes. He should keep moving.

What was even more puzzling that he was feeling a lot heavier than normal. Where was that damn elevator?! The sudden flash of a face distracts him for a moment, trying to figure out who or what that was.

"That's not the first time I've heard that."

[yarrharr]

From behind him, another voice speaks. A different voice. One he might recognize.

"This is for your own good, Sandrath."

The darkness tightens around him even more, constricting like a snake.

"You're a monster."

[dominateartimus]

That second voice was one that he definitely recognized. It belonged to his former mentor, Enos and it pained him to to hear that voice again. A bitter reminder of their verbal fight before he ended up on this ship. Enos couldn't possibly be here. He had been on this ship for a week, exploring all over and he didn't detect Enos' presence. Yet, it didn't stop him from lowering his hands and against his better judgment, he tries to turn to look for the source of the voice.

Except he wasn't able to get far as the darkness continues to surround him, confining him from moving at all. A grunt escapes him as he struggles against his 'restrains'. It was his own recklessness that got him here and he was bound to pay the price for it.

When he hears 'Enos' call him a monster, he can't help but laugh maniacally. "...It was your fault that I turned out this way!"

No, that wasn't true. It was his torturers during his first war that forced 'demon blood' down his throat and Enos was doing his best to gather a squad to rescue him. Through-out the years, Enos remained by his side. Helped him when he struggled and took over when he wasn't able to do the task. It was his own fault for getting addicted and willingly consume the substance that could kill him.

"No. It wasn't your fault." His voice had changed to a softer tone and his eyes were now blue. "You did everything in your power to help me. You were the only one who stayed with me when everyone else considered me broken. Yet, I disobeyed you and disappeared without saying good bye."

It wasn't possible for him to feel guilty about his decisions that lead him to this point in time. Enos had erased that from him 245 years ago.

"I still trust you, despite what I said last time. I know you'll make the right choice."

[fire_brand]

When Kenna set foot onto deck ten, he'd done so fully engulfed. Though his flames did not do much to cut through the darkness, it helped to keep the shadows from overtaking him. It was the light. Shadow could not exist where there was light.

It was easy to tell that there was something. Wrong. Off. The shadows moved and converged on a single point. And in the distance, he could hear her wail. There was someone here. And things were about to get really bad.

He followed the shadows as best he could, using what little light his flames provided as the shadows creeped along the walls and floor toward their target and in the darkness, he could see it. The writhing mass behind Sandrath, her mouth a gaping black void ready to close around him.

Kenna called the flames around one of his arms back and took Sandrath by the shoulder roughly, spinning him so that he might see the man on fire. "Why did you come here?" He demanded, though he knew there was no time for answers. "Go, you have to go! Now!"

[dominateartimus]

This half of Sandrath was willing to accept his fate and had closed his eyes, waiting for his end to come. Except it didn't come.

The abrupt and rough treatment of being spun around causes him to open his eyes in surprise. He did not recognize this person standing in front of him and how they were able to remove his shadowy restrains so easily. Confusion was clear on his face in the limited light. Who were they? Just as he's about ask, he was receiving orders to run.

"I understand." He says with a stern tone, but his voice was still light and his eyes were still blue.

Without another word, he starts to move as quickly in the direction Kenna came from. Or as well as he can with his self-inflicted injuries.

[fire_brand]

Kenna didn't care. There was a promise to be kept here and he would not break it.

He followed Sandrath as he ran toward the elevator, burning as brightly as he could to ward off the shadows.

When the elevator was in sight, Kenna pressed a hand into Sandrath's back to shove him into the car.

"Don't you ever come back here again. Ever."

Because if he did, being devoured by whatever lurked here would be the least of his concerns.

[dominateartimus]

He appreciated the other man's assistance with the darkness that haunts this deck, but just as he's about to thank him, he was shoved in to the elevator car. He hits the far wall with a bit of grunt, barely catching himself with his hands.

When he hears the order to never come back down here, he only laughs before turning to face Kenna. His eyes were back to brown and his posture was completely different from before.

"Is that a threat?"

[fire_brand]

Kenna's flames burned hotly, flaring out against the shadowy backdrop.

"Yes," he growled. "Stay away from here. Or you will regret it."

He turned to go then, once he was sure the elevator doors shut tightly to take him away.

[dominateartimus]

If the flames were being used as an intimidation tactic, it didn't work on him. He merely blinked and tilted his head, almost as if he was curious. Sure, he had visible signs of damage from his venture through this deck, even though he tried to hide his internal conflict. His clothes were singed and torn in various places, with blood staining the material.

"Yet you're free to come down here as you please? I don't think that's very fair." He sounded rather disappointed about that, despite nearly dying several minutes ago.

He moves over to the elevator doors and holds a hand to block the sliding doors, making it clear he wasn't ready to leave. They were having a conversation and if Kenna intended on shoving him back in, he could easily come back down to this deck with a swipe of his card key.

[fire_brand]

"I don't care what you think is fair."

The sobbing, the incessant sobbing in the background sets Kenna on edge. He had to go to her. Why was he still here arguing with Sandrath?

He turns because the doors have not closed and Sandrath is still here. His flames flare out, burning dangerously close to the elevator doors. It is too dark to tell if he's burned them or not.

"LEAVE!"

[dominateartimus]

Kenna's response is met with a scoff, but his attention is pulled away by the sobbing behind the man covered in flames. That was interesting. He had not heard anything before except for a deafening wail and Enos' voice.

A flame licks at a fingertip and a small sound escapes him as he pulls back his hand with a shake. He could easily heal that by balling his fist, except the pain doesn't subside and the familiar burn that he would feel when using it never came. That wasn't right.

"Tell me what is going on in there." He demands, his tone becoming more hostile as he realizes that his abilities were missing. "What did that thing do to me?!"

[fire_brand]

Kenna'd had enough.

He turned to leave. Sandrath would lose the protection of his light.

"Get out of here. Now. Or you'll find out."

[dominateartimus]

San wasn't impressed with the lack of answer, but he wasn't going to throw his life away pursuing the man back in to the shadows. So, he just glares at Kenna's back and as he reluctantly presses a button to a different deck.

The sound of the doors closing would be enough to clue the other man of what he did.