OPEN LOG

[absolute_npc]

Who: OPEN
What: Event-Location Log ; Seraphim Group just got themselves dropped back off. Offer them a hand?
Where: Library Archives Entrance
When: Now (Right after the Plane Shift)

Comments

[undeify]

That wasn't supposed to happen.

But in all his rage, he couldn't find a good enough reason to yell at them even as he watched-no, stared-at the group sprawled out across the front of the archive like decorations. Oh, but he wasn't speaking, and yet it was clear from the way he walked, descending the steps and the little prickles of ice that formulated and crunched underneath his feet that he was livid.

The Fire Seraphim did not transport people to the Necropolis in Niflheim. So, how was it, that at such an inopportune time, that he and Belin had been graced with these individuals? To make matters worse, it hadn't been just them, but a little visitor from the Necropolis itself

[cinerous]

...As if he was going to just let Caim walk off like as if nothing had happened. It took a lot of willpower to stand, but that was something that Asch was never in short supply of, even if he had to lean heavily on his sword to get to his feet.

"Not so fast." Because confusing as the latest turn of events had been, it was impossible to tell who had been friend or foe. All that had really been apparent was that they had been attacked, thrown from place to place, and he wasn't even sure that they had been successful in their endeavours. Certainly, the place looked better than it had the last time, but were they even back in Nuadoria? Or was this some other-realm, yet another incarnation bearing eerie similarity to the one they had first appeared in?

Asch wasn't about to think his way through all those complications when the one who probably did have an idea was presently trying to flee the scene in a very suspicious manner. Leaving behind only yet another of his half-assed cryptic comments.

"You owe us an explanation."

[undeify]

Oh, and he thought about continuing to go on, too, despite; not stopping in his movements initially but for whatever reason he would come to a halt after a few more steps, the animal behind him going to circle around and peek around back at Asch curiously as if wondering who was getting the attention of his master. Slowly, Caim would shift and turn, looking back at the young man, expression deadpan.

So he owed them an explanation, did he?

And then the expressionless facade folded. "I owe you nothing," Caim practically hissed in response, almost defensive at the suggestion he owed anyone anything. But, he continued, nevertheless, his tone calming down just the slightest bit. "What, exactly, do you want explained?"

He didn't blather. He answered direct questions when asked and that was only if he was feeling like he was in a good mood. Or knew the answer.

The problem was that Caim found that neither case was ever present when dealing with the foreigners and their inquiries.

[cinerous]

Temper, temper.

As far as Asch was concerned, these guys had led them a merry dance, set monsters loose on them, tossed them around a bit-- no, a lot, and basically toyed with them like cats with mice. And then claimed that they didn't have to explain anything? Asch was so very tempted to punch the bastard in the face for that.

But years of dealing with Van military training had drummed into him that losing control of his temper didn't usually get the results required - except where it came to the replica, because the replica was such an idiot that anything short of yelling at the top of one's lungs wouldn't get through to him - but anyway, anyway. Focus. Focus was important