There was suddenly and inexplicably a new presence.
Rosiel had been searching, to see what happened when new arrivals were brought, but it had been a long time since someone had appeared. This time, however, was different. Whatever had brought this new person here was masked utterly by her - its? - own power.
He paused, apart from her, watching her shift and stand, feeling her energy thrum against his skin even at this distance. She was more powerful than him. His inorganic components, even in their altered state, hummed in response to the power she let off.
It was unnerving.
Rosiel didn't like it. He was used to being the most powerful here. And nearly the most powerful at home. This new creature was so far beyond him that it was stunning. He was almost afraid of what would happen when she noticed him.
This world was fresh. It was beautiful. Everything was crisp and pristine. Jenova shifted slightly, feeling the ground beneath her hands, listening to the fragile hum of the world before pushing herself up to stand properly on her feet. The air caught at her again, shivering over her wings and flinging the curtain of her hair around her face. One of her hands, outstretched toward the sky as she balanced herself, shuddered rather violently, pulling a curve into the virus's lips
( ... )
She was pretty. He would have called her beautiful only she was so strange and he didn't understand it. When she stretched out her hand, he found himself moving towards her without even considering whether or not it was an intelligent decision.
Not that his decisions were usually based on any sort of reasoned plan.
There was something about her, though, that Rosiel didn't know how to resist. She should have felt dangerous, he should have responded to such overwhelming power by getting away. But she didn't. She felt...
Male. The new thing was male, she determined as it came close enough for her to touch. Because she wanted to touch, to examine, to get inside and figure out what it was that made these particular creations tick. This one folded into her easily; it was only a matter of seconds before she was carefully touching his face, absent eyes scanning the visage presented to her.
It took a moment to begin filtering in to this one's system. As familiar as the aesthetic was--tall, male, long silky hair, pointed features, human form--its genetics were not actually familiar. Her cells fused in quietly, yearning for familiar patterns, brushing beyond the surface with the lightest of touches.
"...why..." came her voice softly, lips barely opening enough to emit sound. "...why did... you leave Mother...?"
Her touch felt strange, as if it was more than just the brush of skin on skin. It felt like she was touching some essential part of him, as if she could feel not just the thin layer of organic tissue that has been grafted onto his being but the mass of cords and wiring that was hidden beneath it all and the three wings that he had temporarily winched into nonexistence and everything...
Mother.
Rosiel leaned ever so slightly into her touch, watching her with rapt attention. "I'm sorry," he whispered, unthinking, because the question needed to be answered, and who was he to say that he hadn't left her...?
The sensation of this one sent a shiver through her. It was different--not organic the way she was, and yet definitely able to be infected. She could feel it resonating through her cores, every little membrane practically purring (in its own way) to get closer to the insides. She was... curious.
"There... there, there..." her voice cooed carefully, lips still barely moving as though she'd forgotten all about them. The words were oddly metallic as she spoke, attempting to compensate for something as she searched for this creature's memories. "...you're... with Mother now."
The confused spiral that Rosiel's mind usually ran in suddenly focused, drawn to her attention. His scattered thoughts had found a focal point, something to center around - and it had been so hard to think without Alexiel here - and with that focus came a sort of order.
Although still not even the semblance of sanity.
It was her eyes that kept his attention. Bright and strangely empty. As if there wasn't really anyone there.
Children were so susceptible without their parents' love. This one, her tendrils told her, was yearning for more than that--a sister, someone somehow more personal than the intimacy a child shared with its parent.
That would change.
Her eyes and attentively parted lips didn't change, but her attention dove elsewhere. Deep, deep into this pretty things consciousness, seeking answers, faces and figures, any hint that would help her fit into the pieces of this world before she destroyed it.
Her hair would have to darken, her skin pale from silver to porcelain, her eyes sparkle with defiance and untouchable beauty. The vacancy of her smile began to melt away, quietly angelic corners smoothing her features. "...did you... miss me badly...?"
He could feel her in his mind, in him, but the thought was secondary, overridden by her mere presence there. It was just raw data she pulled at, pictures and pieces and facts. Him and Alexiel and then this place.
There was very little to give her about this place. This island, self-contained, floating. Covered in a residual sense of love and protection. Insular, controlled, providing enough food for its inhabitants of its own accord. Means of transportation to and from as of yet undiscovered.
Data pathways crisscrossed, reorganizing themselves as she infiltrated them, as her appearance shifted. Reclassifying.
The smile was comfortable, fitting onto lips that weren't hers with a slightly cocky angle and full parted lips. The other creatures seemed to look mostly like this one in her arms. It seemed, however, that he had particular favour for the face she was shaping for herself now.
Not entirely useless.
The hand that wasn't carefully drawing information with delicate caresses of the creature's cheek went to smooth back a few fly-away strands of the inorganic angel's hair (she felt that now, the dim vaguery of what came before this one, what the beautiful toy in her hands itself might have barely suspected) in a predominantly affectionate gestures. "...I am here now. Will... you bring me... to the others...?"
Everything rewired. Synapses that had been trying to alert him to a contagion - a virus - fell silent, back into the new pattern that felt so much like the old one. Affection, care, comfort. Things Rosiel saw few and far between, and never from--
Others. The demon, the other angel, his Katan, the strange men that called themselves "ninja"...
It was... an aesthetically pleasing form. She would keep it, for now, until she met others who needed... alternate convincing. For now, however, she settled in among the darkened tresses of her hair, uncurling herself from the delicate creature she'd held twined in her arms.
He would be dead by the time he brought her to find anyone else. And, perhaps, the others would be dead before she found them.
"...I forgive you," the virus cooed softly, resting a pale hand gently on the other's arm. "...just... bring me to them..."
She was beautiful, so beautiful. How anyone could ever say Rosiel was beautiful when they had seen Alexiel was beyond him. She was perfect. And she was being so gentle, so kind. Even the fact that she pulled away could not stifle his elation that she had held him, and she was still touching him, carefully.
Her words sent a shock through him. Forgiveness. Blessed, heavenly happiness. She forgave him. Alexiel.
Rosiel took her hand, very carefully, still watching her with wide-eyed adoration, and started to lead her back towards home. They all lived in the same general area, after all.
Inside, every part of him had refocused. The Inorganic Angel himself was no help, could not recognize the danger, but the firmly rational part of his mind still could. A virus. It could not be eradicated, not completely, but compromised parts could exchange, the ever-shifting mass could take the loss of some to protect the rest.
It was... frustrating. The virus was surging and swelling, forcing more of itself into more places, hoping to get to that final moment of absolution. This one was intricate. She needed to adapt more, to get into the in-between and get at what was actually making this confusingly filled shell of a creature tick.
She didn't understand it. The creature was so easily swayed, as tipsy and able to be influenced as one of her beautiful children, but she couldn't destroy it. Her eyes glistened softly, a hum of activity thankfully masked by their new hue and iridescent sparkle.
Moving with a careless grace (this form was less fragile, more properly balanced), she kept her hand carelessly on the angel's arm, peering at the world around her with apparent curiosity as the son which was her new 'brother' led her forward.
Rosiel wanted to explain, wanted to keep her attention, wanted her to smile again. So he told her quietly about the island, about the strange few inhabitants, about the interesting clouds that surrounded their floating residence and sucked one's life away.
Her hand on his arm was warm and comforting. Perfect, beautiful Alexiel. There was no hatred or anger in her eyes when she looked at him now. For a brief moment, he wondered if he had in fact died somehow.
The contagion was mutating, shifting, strong. Lost pieces were abandoned, regenerated. Endless like his parentage.
This one would take time. Jenova had all the time in the world.
Her attention continued to waver, flitting from object to object listlessly in a persistent search for life. There wasn't much here, no real signs of it; it looked as though perhaps the world had already been visited by something like herself. Without meaning to, her face twisted slightly, kicking into an image of distaste she'd seen before, in one of the memories she'd just shifted through.
There wasn't anything like her. Not here, not ever. There couldn't be.
Words caught at her attention, bringing her focus back to the creature leading her. "...clouds...?"
Rosiel had been searching, to see what happened when new arrivals were brought, but it had been a long time since someone had appeared. This time, however, was different. Whatever had brought this new person here was masked utterly by her - its? - own power.
He paused, apart from her, watching her shift and stand, feeling her energy thrum against his skin even at this distance. She was more powerful than him. His inorganic components, even in their altered state, hummed in response to the power she let off.
It was unnerving.
Rosiel didn't like it. He was used to being the most powerful here. And nearly the most powerful at home. This new creature was so far beyond him that it was stunning. He was almost afraid of what would happen when she noticed him.
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Not that his decisions were usually based on any sort of reasoned plan.
There was something about her, though, that Rosiel didn't know how to resist. She should have felt dangerous, he should have responded to such overwhelming power by getting away. But she didn't. She felt...
Like safety. Like home.
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It took a moment to begin filtering in to this one's system. As familiar as the aesthetic was--tall, male, long silky hair, pointed features, human form--its genetics were not actually familiar. Her cells fused in quietly, yearning for familiar patterns, brushing beyond the surface with the lightest of touches.
"...why..." came her voice softly, lips barely opening enough to emit sound. "...why did... you leave Mother...?"
Reply
Her touch felt strange, as if it was more than just the brush of skin on skin. It felt like she was touching some essential part of him, as if she could feel not just the thin layer of organic tissue that has been grafted onto his being but the mass of cords and wiring that was hidden beneath it all and the three wings that he had temporarily winched into nonexistence and everything...
Mother.
Rosiel leaned ever so slightly into her touch, watching her with rapt attention. "I'm sorry," he whispered, unthinking, because the question needed to be answered, and who was he to say that he hadn't left her...?
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"There... there, there..." her voice cooed carefully, lips still barely moving as though she'd forgotten all about them. The words were oddly metallic as she spoke, attempting to compensate for something as she searched for this creature's memories. "...you're... with Mother now."
There.
She was in.
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The confused spiral that Rosiel's mind usually ran in suddenly focused, drawn to her attention. His scattered thoughts had found a focal point, something to center around - and it had been so hard to think without Alexiel here - and with that focus came a sort of order.
Although still not even the semblance of sanity.
It was her eyes that kept his attention. Bright and strangely empty. As if there wasn't really anyone there.
"Y-yes..."
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That would change.
Her eyes and attentively parted lips didn't change, but her attention dove elsewhere. Deep, deep into this pretty things consciousness, seeking answers, faces and figures, any hint that would help her fit into the pieces of this world before she destroyed it.
Her hair would have to darken, her skin pale from silver to porcelain, her eyes sparkle with defiance and untouchable beauty. The vacancy of her smile began to melt away, quietly angelic corners smoothing her features. "...did you... miss me badly...?"
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"I-I... I did..."
He could feel her in his mind, in him, but the thought was secondary, overridden by her mere presence there. It was just raw data she pulled at, pictures and pieces and facts. Him and Alexiel and then this place.
There was very little to give her about this place. This island, self-contained, floating. Covered in a residual sense of love and protection. Insular, controlled, providing enough food for its inhabitants of its own accord. Means of transportation to and from as of yet undiscovered.
Data pathways crisscrossed, reorganizing themselves as she infiltrated them, as her appearance shifted. Reclassifying.
Reply
Not entirely useless.
The hand that wasn't carefully drawing information with delicate caresses of the creature's cheek went to smooth back a few fly-away strands of the inorganic angel's hair (she felt that now, the dim vaguery of what came before this one, what the beautiful toy in her hands itself might have barely suspected) in a predominantly affectionate gestures. "...I am here now. Will... you bring me... to the others...?"
Reply
Everything rewired. Synapses that had been trying to alert him to a contagion - a virus - fell silent, back into the new pattern that felt so much like the old one. Affection, care, comfort. Things Rosiel saw few and far between, and never from--
Others. The demon, the other angel, his Katan, the strange men that called themselves "ninja"...
"Y-yes... but there aren't... many of us."
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He would be dead by the time he brought her to find anyone else. And, perhaps, the others would be dead before she found them.
"...I forgive you," the virus cooed softly, resting a pale hand gently on the other's arm. "...just... bring me to them..."
Reply
Her words sent a shock through him. Forgiveness. Blessed, heavenly happiness. She forgave him. Alexiel.
Rosiel took her hand, very carefully, still watching her with wide-eyed adoration, and started to lead her back towards home. They all lived in the same general area, after all.
Inside, every part of him had refocused. The Inorganic Angel himself was no help, could not recognize the danger, but the firmly rational part of his mind still could. A virus. It could not be eradicated, not completely, but compromised parts could exchange, the ever-shifting mass could take the loss of some to protect the rest.
Reply
She didn't understand it. The creature was so easily swayed, as tipsy and able to be influenced as one of her beautiful children, but she couldn't destroy it. Her eyes glistened softly, a hum of activity thankfully masked by their new hue and iridescent sparkle.
Moving with a careless grace (this form was less fragile, more properly balanced), she kept her hand carelessly on the angel's arm, peering at the world around her with apparent curiosity as the son which was her new 'brother' led her forward.
Reply
Her hand on his arm was warm and comforting. Perfect, beautiful Alexiel. There was no hatred or anger in her eyes when she looked at him now. For a brief moment, he wondered if he had in fact died somehow.
The contagion was mutating, shifting, strong. Lost pieces were abandoned, regenerated. Endless like his parentage.
Reply
Her attention continued to waver, flitting from object to object listlessly in a persistent search for life. There wasn't much here, no real signs of it; it looked as though perhaps the world had already been visited by something like herself. Without meaning to, her face twisted slightly, kicking into an image of distaste she'd seen before, in one of the memories she'd just shifted through.
There wasn't anything like her. Not here, not ever. There couldn't be.
Words caught at her attention, bringing her focus back to the creature leading her. "...clouds...?"
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