They called me A43L71

[Aurelius Schwartz]

Spoiler:

There were some things that remained under the surface; they came and went like breaths of cold air--a chill catacombing along the spine, reminding him of who he truly was. Deep, deep in the confounds of chains, rattling the spirits of the timid who dare not look on, lies a vapid testimony of repression. It's so much easier to forget than try to be consistent with one's self. Aurel knew; he struggled with it his whole life. But what if he didn't come back tomorrow? There were so many loose ends--so much hanging in the space between the stilled pendulum. Time was no longer an issue, conquest but a step. Still, there were questions, unasked, unanswered. It was better that way. It was always better if no one knew. If they didn't know him--his thoughts, his ideas--they could survive with their innocence intact. He had always thought that way, carefully concealing everything he could from view. That mystery kept them all at bay--kept feelings faraway. Sacrifice. It whispered in the depth of him, daunting breath, preventing touch. There were some things that should remain under the surface as they are, untouched, unshed. They were, he believed, an unworthy danger.

Lately, he found himself immobile. Perhaps his soul had become a void as well. He felt lost amid a crowd despite the room being empty. He heard conversations that weren't happening. He lingered in tell-tale stories of memories he wasn't a part of. Faint traces of pain were caressing his scalp, being a constant reminder that another version of himself had at one time been cast into a time warp of chaos. Lying around in a near catatonic state, he answered muffled voices of inquiry with words that made them go away. He knew it was the painkillers that drained his energy, but if he didn't take them, it would be unbearable today.

When next he woke, his arm was splayed over his forehead, he breathed softly. Someone had brought him water. He didn't know who. The television was on, mute. The room was so quiet, he could hear the buzz of electronics functioning those pixels of light. He squinted in the searing pain of recognition, trying to focus long enough to sit up. Something suggested he stay where he was, lying about the sofa like a part of the scenery, but he wouldn't listen. Not even to himself. There was something vicious about him, uncontained as always. It was ever since he had seen Stephona die that he felt something shift and simmer inside of him. That sadistic level of curiosity was rivaled also with the need to reveal nothing about himself. No one ever knew she died. Her legacy--her meaning vanished into the void much like himself. What constituted a person became fragile that day, no, a person became just that: a person. Mortality was something real, a nearly tangible cringe of suffering sought out by the need to know more. Even as a child, Aurel strove ahead with nothing capable of obstructing him. He had always known the conclusion. “Are you immortal, you vile beast? I-I don’t understand. TELL ME. How are you alive in this time too? HOW.” Time travel, of course. Poor soul didn't even understand the situation fully. At the time, neither did he. But that desperate man ate a bullet and unintentionally created the inspiration for the very alchemy that ended his life. Irony killed. Aurel felt himself smirking underneath his sleeve, letting his arm slide down his face and rest over his neck. Here, that man from the future had tried to squeeze out his life. Evelyn. Fire. Stephona's bracelet now in the possession of Nyx so much time later. He cracked open his mismatched eyes, feeling his pupils shrink to nothing. Where was Nyx now, he wondered.

He almost wanted to see her. Even in this state. He wanted to tell her why what she had was so important--what it meant, why they kept it. If she didn't remember her own name, certainly she had never been told of its worth. It was important. To him it was...at least. Pinching his nose in mild discomfort, he ventured to sit up, haphazardly digging his elbows into the cushions. That metal plate in his head was causing this. Himself. It had been the worst danger. Nearly intolerable, the migraines were getting worse. Suicide had always been a compelling solution; it was hard to bypass a release so easy especially when unable to grasp the full reasoning why one exists. Now--now, that was far behind him: a evening chill that recurred occasionally. It wasn't difficult to overlook, but it left a bad taste. It was the result of time traveling: you lost fragments of yourself. He was aware of that, and yet... Tatyana was somehow fully viable. Perhaps his ability was more refined in the future? She arrived to him first as a child and then as an adult acquitted with the task of killing herself so that she may be born and exist in the time she was meant to. Her arrival was flawless, gracing current times with but a touch of difference. She was saving herself on his command. It was a full circle yet again. He sighed and leaned his forehead into the headrest, facing where his back should be. She was his daughter. He still couldn't fathom it. Not Nyx, not Tat, not many things this time had to offer. He figured...it'd take some getting used to. But in order to obtain something, first, he must give something in return. Thus was the way of the world.

[Guest]

Pain. She held a burden of pain that no one would ever feel the same. Sure the conditions might be similar, but the only person in the world who would know the similar pain she felt was the man she avoided the most. It was too awkward; foreign and strange. Some things were hard to understand and there were feelings way too awkward. Yet.. she had come here. Why? A force called her to there, that place.

When it came to a question "Why are you here?" She could only think "Just making sure you're okay." Would he even believe it? No matter how much she faked, she just didn't belong. This wasn't her home... it would never be her home, likely. They said everyone carried baggage, but this was just bizarre. Her life had been something only dreams were made of. Her heart was wavering from behind a broken looking picture. For as much as she had been trying to impress, to show she knew what she was doing, she didn't know.

Everywhere she looked was somewhere she'd been, but never really knew. In the future this place was different. Even passing the threshold was something nearly new to her. Her dark locks fell without much form. She hadn't bothered today and it was obvious in her tattered clothes and the way she held herself. She had nothing to remember the friends she had.. she'd come with the clothe son her back and a pistol equipped with one shot. The first and only person Tatyana had ever killed was herself in cold blood. She'd killed her own self, a child and watched the body fade from existence; as i she never existed. It was a saddening truth; Tatyana had never existed and should she die again there would be nothing. Maybe they'd mourn her, maybe not, but the thing was she was a ghost to this world. Did she even truly exist?

She could feel the burn of tears in her eyes. Was it safe to live in this time?? Was it safe to leave? Could she be close to anyone? Ether way she was losing people. Her mindset til then had been 'don't get attached', but how did one avoid loving their father; their sister? These were the very people she grew up idolizing and now they were as lost as she was. Could she govern her own life when one touch could unbind everything so closely pulled together. This was so much different than the movies. The protagonist could easily make new friends and come to the terms with loss, but she wasn't the protagonist. Tatyana was just a supporting role if she could call herself anything.

Time passed and she couldn't move much more than holding the her body in the hallway. Would he even accept her? It wasn't like they really knew each other. As smart as Tatyana played, she was pretty damn lost when it came to her father. Her heart ached and small drops could be felt on her cheeks. "Damn it.." she swore and quickly brushed them away. There was so much to make sense of, but she couldn't even begin to express it. Who else could kill themselves and live in a world they were never a part of? With a sigh, she leaned against a wall somewhere in the massive building and slid down the wall until she was sitting. "I just want to know you're okay." Hadn't someone spoken those words in the future? There was a time she'd gotten in a fight and those were the words she hurt. Times she lost a friend and then she'd been a child. Her hands clutched and she swallowed the tears. She was never more of a child than right then.

Was she really that pathetic? She couldn't just check on her dad without breaking down? The insults at herself only made her laugh. She couldn't do it.. Her body stiffened. She turned and began to walk back out. It was still early, so maybe nobody noticed her. He was fine, he was an idol and she was just.. just a shadow of what was to come. Besides, for now, Nyx was doing a great job at protecting him.. so much better than she had. At least when she was around Ms. Collier it didn't sting so much.

[Kit Estenial]

Restless nights had plagued Kit the past few nights, but especially on this night, when the moon was at it's peak of light, the round white marble it was. He sat on the couch in the moonlight outside the window, shock white hair reflecting it back. His ears twitched at the sounds of the house, or rather who was inside it. Kit had went up to see Aurelius earlier as he was in some sort of nightmare of some such. Kit had brought up a tray of water with an iced pitcher. He turned the television on as he stayed in the room, watching this man in his twisted dreamscape. Kit, even with his knowledge of a nightmare's demolition, would dare not wake him. It wasn't his place to. Not yet.

He left soon after and back into the living room (or what he would call his bedroom), contemplating this thought. That man, who gave him home, power, a semblance of a purpose, was still a stranger to him. Then again, so was Kit's new self. Adjusting to this new moral set was easy, but he silently lamented the loss of the old him...the one with a heart of gold. The one, no matter how hard things seemed, he'd do his best for those around him. Then he would just convince himself that he never existed. People who went through hell never become those people. Neither did Kit. But that wasn't his concern, his concern was Aurelius. His restlessness was brought on by a realization: he knew nothing about the man. He felt left out. Not knowing was something Kit did not enjoy.

But he had his own. Maybe that's how it should be.

He heard the Master stir again, moreso this time. Kit would see to help him, doing what bits he could to help. He could've sworn he was crossed with dog, the way his loyalty dragged him like a mutt on a chain. He rose, adjusting his crimson kimono and went to kitchen. Tea with honey. That always helped him with nightmares. His mother used it alot. It took little time before it was prepared and he, patting up the stairs with his bare feet, holding a tray of sweet smelling tea, came up the stairs again. He went in again, pushing open then door with his hip. The Master was up. He moved the water tray and replaced it with the tea, pouring him a glass with small amounts of sugar. He left the steaming cup on his nightstand, passing Aurelius without a word. Just like every day. He turned in silence to leave.

No. No, Kit's curiosity proclaimed, no! He must do this, or else he two would have restless nights and in more quantity. It might've been his own stupidity or his animal DNA's refusal to back down, but he came back from the threshold of the door. He took a seat on the corner of the bed across from the Master. His bell ringing clearly through the silence between them. Kit produced a ribbon from his sleeve and brought it to his hair, wrapping his shock white hair to a tail. He then turned to Aurelius, hands clasped in his lap. The words next were those he had always asked. But tonight, they had new meaning. Concern. He spoke to Aurelius in his native tongue

"Sir, is there something the matter? Something troubling you?" He didn't expect an answer. They knew each other as well as a mouse knew a shark. Decide which is which.

[Nyx]

Nyx was in Central City, and everything was going crazy, but it was all a lot of deja-vous. She couldn't remember where she was before then, though, and while it felt like she'd been here before, she had no idea what was going to come next. There were soldiers everywhere, shooting at other soldiers. Blue men fighting gray men, as far as Nyx could tell; no symbolism, just face value. She stepped forward, drawing nearer to a gargantuan building, a tower at the highest point of the biggest castle on the highest mountain, jutting out of the deepest crater, just for further emphasis and exaggeration. Like out of a bad dream. At the top was a figure, and she leapt to the stairs, entering, and walked, trance-like, until she reached the roof. Looking around, she saw a familiar site; Aurel. Spotlights on him, a man with a megaphone barely a whisper below. He stood there and... He had a gun. And was aiming it at himself. He turned to glance at Nyx, flashed a wink, and grinned. Her heart raced. What did that mean...? What could- Crack. A single gunshot, ringing truer than the bells of the Sanctus Gloria, but the sound was far more awful. She fell to her knees. Aurel was dead? But... Wait. Haha... Hahaha... She rose froma light giggle to a maddened laugh.He was playing a trick on her! They were back at the Central HQ building, and he killed himself, but all she had to do was turn around.

She'd turn around. And he'd be right there. Right there behind her, watching over her like always. They'd get ice cream afterwards. Everything would be fine. Like always. A funny thought struck her head. What if Hild was there too? That made sense, she'd be there too. It was a bit crazy for a joke, she'd have to talk to them about that. She turned to face them, still laughing.

It was slow-motion...

She saw out of the corner of her eye, Aurel's hat blow away in the wind, but it was fine, it fell right into his outstretched hand.

She was facing Hild and Aurel.

But Hild and Aurel weren't there.

No.

They were there.

But they were dead. Skeletal remains, which even then, crumbled to dust before her eyes.

She opened her mouth. Silence.

She stepped forward and fell. A nearly endless fall. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to scream one more time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nyx awoke with a start, clutching her blanket, fingers clenched so tightly, she could feel droplets of blood pooling from where her fingernails stabbed into her palms. Rubbing at her eyes, she found she'd been crying. She sighed a sigh of relief. It was just a dream. Just another dream. Another nightmare, that was all... But that was just it. It was the same nightmare. The same one every night. Ever since that day. It was starting to wear down on her, she didn't want to sleep anymore, but she couldn't stay awake. She'd taken to sneaking Aurel's coffee mug out of his room every night, while he slept, and making a pot of coffee. Most nights, she sat up, drank all of it. But try as she might, the sandman got her every time, and she slept, seemingly just long enough to have the dream. Fate had a funny way of hating people.

She wanted to see Aurel. Desperately, in fact. Like, normally, she wanted to be near Aurel anyways. But now... It was unusually important. She had to go see Aurel. Now. And so she'd do that. Sitting up, she brushed her hair out of her eyes, in that pitiful manner of a child who was sleepy, despite having just woken up. She was running on two hours of sleep and at least thirteen coffee crashes; joy. Standing, she didn't bother finding shoes to put on, preferring instead not to wear them. She straightened out her night gown, as it had been wrinkled and off-set somewhat by her twisting and turning from her night-time sufferings. Staring into a mirror, she knew she looked tired, and she flicked away a discarded feather or two, plucked from her wings by her pillow as she slept. She was awake enough?

So she stepped out of the room, and began the brief walk to Aurel's bedchamber, turning a corner and- "Hm?~ TATYANA!~" At first she'd pondered who the odd figure was, but after a moment, she recognized the shadowy blur as her big sister, and, now wide awake, ran at her with a big good-morning hug. "G'morning!~" She still wasn't quite sure how exactly Tatyana was her sister; she honestly couldn't remember if anyone ever even explained it or not. But she didn't mind the least, taking it instead as something that just was. Releasing her sister from the death-hug of awesomelove, she noticed in her hand, Aurel's mug. Right! She needed to put that back in his room, where it was before, so he didn't notice! Thankfully, she knew Tat wouldn't question it too much; she was the only one Nyx confided in about the nightmares, and her trying to stay awake. She'd have told Aurel, but she didn't want to worry him too much with unimportant stuff like that, despite the fact that he'd probably have cared to know about that.

She heard a rustling in Aurel's room, and slipped past Tatyana, to quickly place the mug back where it went. As it was, however, it was only Kit. "Hrm?~ Oh, good morning, Kitty-Kit~" Smiling, she skipped over to hug him as well, before glancing down at Aurel on the bed. He looked so peaceful in his sleep... But what about in his mind? She didn't even think to question that; there was much she didn't know, in fact, and that was amongst it all. Pausing briefly to note the water and tea at the bedside, she heard Kit pipe up with a question for Aurel, as to whether he was doing well or not, and Nyx snapped, briefly thinking of the best idea EVER. Dashing out of the room, with a quick be right back, she soon returned, bearing four packs of brown sugar cinnamon pop-tarts. One for each of them!~ Setting them on the bedside, she beamed at Kit, and glanced around for Tatyana as well. "Breakfast in bed!~" And with a cheery smile, she plopped down on the bed, right next to Aurel, sitting cross-legged, wings folded slightly outward, for a more comfortable position, looking at Aurel:

"Morning, daddy~"

[Aurelius Schwartz]

His bangs splayed limply against the top of the couch, forehead pressed heavily into the tapestry. An escape. He wasn't there long enough for it to leave a mark in his skin, but at some point, he had shut his eyes and drifted away from the pain again. That was why when Kit walked in, he didn't notice. Off guard and meandering in complex thoughts, he breathed away the faint strings of suffering until they snapped. Completely.

Clank.

Aurelius opened a single blue eye, focusing dully through the soft darkness scattered about with flickering lights. A figure was there, fuzzily outlined by the news channel, hands moving in some predicted fashion. He moved as well, lifting his head from the couch in such a slow way so as to not jar his brief moments of release. His red eye was focused now as well, squinting until adjusted upon the turned homunculus. The sound of pouring, smell of tea assailed him from where he remained seated on the couch. He had twisted around to observe, but now moved quietly to sit as one should on a couch. Funny, how when humans are agonized they curve normalcy to adapt. Thus is why Aurel had found himself on his knees, facing the backrest of the couch in a wakeful state, dodging what he could of a relentless migraine. It had been a week. A full week of staring and nail-biting nausea, flipped equilibrium and torrents of nothing. He recalled not much of anything that transpired, accrediting it fully to the neurological symptoms that came after one shot themselves in the head. This happened occasionally, but the trouble was that he could not even remember what the doctors had said. He'd kept it a secret for a long time it seemed; however, coming to this time having no previous knowledge of it prevented that secret from staying as such. If those close to him did not know, he would not get very far on his own. That was his personal conclusion; his weakness revealed. It was a touchy subject he avoided as often as he could, but any pain as vast as his own would cross a chimera's survival instinct with a human's intelligence, producing these results. He'd given in, letting others handle it for him. When he was in pain, it was too much to remember. So when the painkillers were handed to him, he took them without exception. And when tea was poured for him, even with sugar, he drank it.

In his weakened state, Aurel stopped fighting. He excepted what was as it was without a touch of change. He wrote off his ability to accomplish much, and was satisfied with the status as is. Like this, he wanted no one to see him. Like this, only seldom few encountered him, and only those whom he allowed himself to trust. In a sense, there was no choice whether or not he trusted them, yet in another, he had hand-selected those that he did in a time before he arrived. Complicated enough, there was no choice but to learn and accept it as it came.

Kit, as he had come to recognize, moved to leave. It was not surprising considering the hour that he thought Aurel asleep. In fact, he still felt asleep; there was no pain, no feeling, just silence. The door creaked as it always did, the white-haired creature moving away towards the empty bed. He sat upon it, facing him now, Aurel hardly lucid enough for conversation. But Kit gave him time, lifting his arms up to wrap his hair atop his head. Listlessly, the RIOTE leader looked on, briefly adjusting his position to one more suited for an encounter. "Sir, is there something the matter? Something troubling you?" He thought a moment. Not on how he would answer, but on why such an inquiry was inferred. Kit knew what physically plagued him already. That much was clear by the tea. And Aurel wasn't sure if Tatyana had told him or Nyx, but every night Kit appeared without question until now. How had he noticed? The moment the tides shifted.

A cadaverous smirk ghosted onto his lips, faint laughter. "I wonder how you knew, he murmured, "not many do." Pain was relative; but in his mind, bridges were burning. His mismatched eyes narrowed in suspicion, despite there not being anything with which to suspect. A hand drifted to touch the side of his head where the bullet entered. He let his neck slacken to one side, keeping the faint curl to his lips. "When it hurts, you start to wonder who's there--who is there for you." His hand tangled in black strands of hair before letting gravity take it back to rest on his thigh. "I guess I'm not alone after all," he sighed. "But I will corrupt you." His voice was cold, prickling the electronic hum of the television beside them. A pause followed where the contrast could be heard. "All of you who dare venture close enough to see." He waved the air. "I produce results, isn't that all that matters?" Thinking of Nyx, thinking of Tatyana, that wasn't true. He looked away from Kit for just a moment, distracted in the confines of his mind. Blinking, he returned a coruscate gaze that offered no Quarter. "I see now," came the followup. Himself as a person. Himself as a chimera. Himself as Nyx sees him. Himself as Tatyana's father. Himself as a means to which a question is asked... "Who I have to become."

He was not the makeup of the century--the breadth of reasoning; he was just Aurelius Carston Schwarz. Who he was and who he was were entirely corresponding, but not one in the same. He set out to save the world, hating the world, hating those who walked it and all their discord, and yet found himself partaking. He lived, he walked, he discorded along with the crowds. He sought escape in suicide even as he did not grasp his full recollection. And came back to a place where others waited and asked questions he wasn't used to answering. A self that opposed disclosure was liable to susceptivity. He had to bring himself. What he was doing here needed him. Without that self--that human nature, certainly he would not be able to achieve much at all. But that involved shedding thoughts, letting on, opening doors whose keys he was not sure he held. Help, however, was not far gone--help involving exactly the tools with which to make the tools.

He leaned forward suddenly, not giving Kit a second to react, tingling still with the realization that he had just revealed his inner thoughts. He took up the teacup, pressing the rim to his lips and tilting his head back to down the contents in as much of a swig as he could. The least amount of taste the better. He next lifted the stale glass of water and downed that too, wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve. It was just then he noticed he was still wearing pajamas.

"Breakfast in bed!~" Bewildered, he whipped his head to the side, spotting Nyx and packets of poptarts. He raised an eyebrow and patted the cushion beside him.

"Chh, hardly can call this a bed." His speech was lacking its usual authoritative quality, but he did not fail to notice there was a single extra poptart. "Who else?" He looked tired, he wasn't presentable--

"Morning, daddy~" She settled down beside him where he had patted, looking oddly misplaced. Aurel lowered his eyes to her wrist where he found the clock still ticking.

"Even the birds aren't up; how portentous that we are."

[Guest]

A voice hit her ears. Someone whose voice beckoned in the darkest of nights, but younger. Nyx's voice wasn't quite the same, but Tatyana assumed that came with experience and change. After all, Nyx was only a child now and in the future she was someone else. This was what she HAD been, long ago. A smiling face that caught Tatyana off guard. It was dd, how even someone so young could put on a strong face. Everyone was suffering. She stopped walking and looked at Nyx. The poor girl had nightmares.. fears and yet Tatyana could hardly understand. Such situations were so.. unfathomable. Her eyes fell to the ground and suddenly she felt so.. despicable.

Nyx daily went on as if there were no pain in her life and she was younger(ish) than Tatyana and yet Tatyana pulled on the crappy facade that cracked and fractured. She could be strong, if not or herself, but for her sister.

Tatyana's steps were slow and hesitant at first. It was obvious she didn't know exactly how to proceed. She rarely humbled herself in such a way. Her legs didn't want to move, but she managed it. Foot after foot, she made her way on light steps. It was a wordless movement, oddly graceful with how she moved. Her emerald eyes focused forward.

When at last, she had reached the room, she stopped and stood outside. Silently, she listened. Her being was pressed into the wall tight enough that she thought she'd be a part of the wall. "Chh, hardly can call this a bed." Pfft then what? He slept on the floor? Then again, she hadn't been in this room before, so maybe he HAD. Her heart stopped a second as he spoke again. "Who else?" The rest she couldn't hear, because for a second Tatyana's blood ran cold. Did he know she was there? No.. that wasn't likely. He may have been Aurelius, but he wasn't psychic... was he?

Anyways, after a few seconds, she peered around the corner if only for a fleeting second, until she got the courage to sneak in. Her body twisted, and her eyes fell first upon Nyx, then upon the cat and then her father. For a second she seemed displeased, awkward and unsure, but soon she brushed it all away and smiled widely. "What's this? A tea party and I'm not invited? You wound me!" She laughed lightly and crossed her arms. She could play masquerader as well. Hell everyone there was someone hiding behind a mask. That question still irked her. "Am I evil?" Kids looked at her strange and neighbors sometimes glared. Was she just born evil? Was she meant for nothing but hatred? There were so many questions and yet, the only answer it had ended with was wiped out with the memory of killing herself.

There was nothing there to speak of her discord, but she could tell almost instantly something was NOT okay with her father. For one she could smell honey and the thought of Aurelius drinking honey was something that astounded her. She wanted to speak on it, but knew it wasn't her place. Her eyes glinted with knowing, but her lips were sealed. Then, she turned her head away and looked at Nyx with a goofy grin. She sat by her sister and practically scooped the smaller girl in her arms. After that, Tatyana rested her chin on Nyx's head and acknowledged Kit, because she'd rudely ignored him (Unintentionally). "Morning Kit-Kat. No fair you're in here and not awaiting my glorious appearance at the grand headquarters." Keep it up. Thoughts lingered to herself. We can all play pretend.

[Kit Estenial]

Nyx had woken up. Fantastic, he thought, the whole house would be a part of this. She came in chipper as ever, greeting him with her bestowed nickname, "Kitty-Kit". Kit chuckled at her slightly, the cuteness she bore could've been terminal to anyone else and could choke Kit's sensibilities quite easily, but with Nyx he tolerated it. He more than tolerated it, though, he welcomed it everyday. She left just as soon as his question was asked, eyes bright with an idea. Kit shook his head and smiled.

The Master was acting strangely this night...he was smiling for one. That unsettled Kit since Aurelius was such a stoic man to him that smiling usually meant incredibly bad things. Aurelius questioned how Kit's "intuition" figured his uneasiness. It wasn't hard. Kit knew the difference between the a sleepness night due to pain or by mental unease. Kit knew about Aurel's painkillers, so he left his choice to the only one left. The Master then spoke about insecurity (as far as Kit saw), about who was there for him. Kit, of course, was always there. He made the meals, he watched Nyx when needed, he brought him teas and water without the necessity for asking. Aurelius was a driven man with a goal that he followed to the letter. In a way, he was like a predator. Relentless. But, in another way, as he watched over for them all and provided for them, he was...fatherly. Kit admired both aspects. In retrospect, Kit began his work for RIOTE to repay a debt of power...he now stayed because what turned from gratitude and debt turned into admiration.

Respect. That is the word.

Then words left Aurelius' lips that Kit thoroughly didn't understand. "But I will corrupt you. All of you who dare venture close enough to see." Kit couldn't hold his tongue. He put his hair over his shoulder and spoke to Aurel in his most respectful tone, which was hard to do this early in the AMs. "Sir, with this stone in me, corruption is something I don't care about. Corruption and I are no strangers. In fact, we're great friends. It also won't change my proximity to you. Emotionally OR otherwise" Kit smiled and chuckled with his joke at his proximity to corruption, seeing as he undertoned how true it really was. He spoke of results, which Kit didn't comment on, but he did speak of "what he must become". Kit simply moved closer, engaged in Aurel's mystery. "Who would that be, sir?"

Before he got his answer, Nyx came in, bursting through with Poptarts in hand. Poptarts, oh the memories of when these were a feast. Memories of a simpler time. A hard time, but simple. But now new footsteps approached. Light. Dainty. Tatyana's. She came in with her usual demeanor, confident, almost doll-like. Because it felt in-genuine. But she made jokes nonetheless, feigning hurt emotion. "What's this? A tea party and I'm not invited? You wound me!" Well maybe if she had called ahead he could've prepared. Even with her sitting in the hallway, she did not acknowledge him. And unlike Aurel, Kit did not acknowledge Tatyana if she did not acknowledge him. There was a difference in their relationship. One that was far different for Aurelius' and Kit's relationship. She then acknowledged him, in which he turned his head and purred his words like some housecat. An action Tatyana often enjoyed, so he observed. "If you had called ahead, I would've had everything spread out for you, Ms. Tatyana." Whether she understood the double meaning or not was up to her, he thought, as he crossed leg over leg unwrapping his poptart, and taking a small nibble of the pastry. Cinnamon...his favorite.

[Nyx]

Well, it may not have been a bed, proper, but it was certainly close enough! "It stopped being a couch when you slept in it, silly~" Giggling cheerfully, she bit into one of her poptarts, chewing thoughtfully on the crunchy cinnamon goodness. Why was he sleeping on a couch anyhow? The thought really hadn't occurred much to her... It was very much possible that something was very much wrong with Aurel, it felt off to Nyx, having noticed that. Not only that, she smelled the distinct scent of honey drifting in the air, from Aurel's tea. Something was definitely amiss... But she didn't betray it with her face, and only at the deepest depth of her eyes would one be able to sense the disturbance. She wouldn't let it get to her; certainly, she wouldn't let it get to Kit, or Aurel, or Tatyana. But even as she pondered those ideas, Aurel chimed in once more in his raspy whisper of a just-woke-up voice, but partly attributed as well, not to Nyx's awareness, however, to the fact he wasn't quite well. She glanced out the window briefly, as if looking for birds. "Nope, just us." Giving a little laugh and a smile, she found it amusing; the early bird caught the worm, eh? Well what would the birds think if RIOTE caught all the worms first, and erm... well, they could go fishing with them! Yeah, take that birds! Wait, Nyx was a bird... Though worms are yucky, so it's okay.

But Tatyana walked in, which made that all null and void, because she's Tatyana. She walked over to the couch and sat down, setting Nyx in her lap, with her head resting on Nyx's, as the smaller of the girls smiled, wrapping her wings around herself, so as to keep them from brushing up against Tat too much. Twisting slightly in her big/little sister's grip, she found the last pack of poptarts she'd retrieved, handing them to Tat with a smile. "Broughtcha breakfast~" It wasn't often Nyx saw Tatyana around, so she couldn't say she really remembered many times they had breakfast together before, which kinda made this breakfast special. To Nyx, anyways; they were all gathered around, eating like a family, at the same time. As she popped the last bit of one pastry into her mouth, holding the second in the little package, in her lap, she reached for the teapot, grabbing it and a teacup sitting near it, and poured herself a cup of the sweet-smelling liquid. She inhaled the aroma briefly, before taking a small sip of the hot tea. She almost frowned as she tasted just HOW sweet it was, although she didn't falter her smile, trying not to let Aurel sense her worry for him. Aurel was drinking this!? She had to admit, Kit was really good at making Tea, and it was delicious, but AUREL of all people...? It was far too sweet for his tastes, she was sure...

[Aurelius Schwartz]

"Sir, with this stone in me, corruption is something I don't care about. Corruption and I are no strangers. In fact, we're great friends. It also won't change my proximity to you. Emotionally OR otherwise." The dialogue stuck with him, following him yet still. Philosopher's stones were corruption? Their existence incited such qualms? But the deed was not even his own; the collection of souls--of lives rested solely on Aurelius' shoulders. They breathed in red, squirmed inside, vested power akin to immortality, and yet Kit insinuated it as a means of corruption, deeming it as a higher risk factor than himself? He was baffled for just a moment longer, relishing in a response that belittled his views of his relationship to others, making it feel just a little more possible--just a little more human. "Who would that be, sir?"

"What's this? A tea party and I'm not invited? You wound me!" Tatayana entered at a odd angle through the door, looking fairly displaced and highly discomforted. Aurel glanced across the room at the tea and frowned, the dry taste of sweet still etched undesirably into his taste buds. He flicked his tongue against his teeth feebly and sighed.

"If you had called ahead, I would've had everything spread out for you, Ms. Tatyana." Something about the time hinted otherwise, but putting voice to it would be a waste of breath and certainly damper the already waning mood. They weren't invited. He uncrossed his legs and crossed the other one over, leaning back more comfortably. He needed not put on a display for those who had already seen him. Light cotton drab. Black, of course. Aurel was just as menacing had he actually been showered and dressed. And aside from the faint tinglings of a migraine, he was in a safe place, surrounded by the trustworthy. But what made them that exactly?

"Nope, just us." It was just them. The thought, her words, put a soft morning light into the shady irises of red and blue, but he said nothing. There was no need. Instead, something else mouthed to the surface, something he had no intention of ever speaking of. Where it came from, he wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps, it was an echo leftover from his and Kit's conversation or perhaps it was something that finally just needed its name stroked into an unmarked tombstone.

"Forgive me," he began, looking from Nyx to Tatyana, "It is rather odd being known, but not knowing." He paused, touching the side of his head again. "Leaving the past is something that is still unsettling. I was raised...in a tank with the year 1891 on my birth certificate. They called me A43L71. Nyx, your grandmother's watch is something I gave her." He stopped rather abruptly, letting his words simmer into quiescence.

[Guest]

Tatyana was offered a poptart at some point in time that she proceeded to take with a soft smile. It wasn't like she wanted to eat it, but she'd be damned if she hurt Nyx's feelings. Tatyana despised poptarts really, well except a few of the flavors. They usually were chalky and the crust got caught in her throat. She hated the feeling of having to force food down her throat. She didn't really want tea either. In fact, Tatyana didn't want much of anything more than a glass of water. However, she couldn't speak her mind. IN fact it was hard to even see anything in her mind. The vague statement made by Kit just flew right past her as well. She was in a fog; in a funk.

"Forgive me. It is rather odd being known, but not knowing." Tatyana wanted to say it was just as odd to feel the opposite, but she kept her mouth shut. Now was not the place to interrupt and if she had ANYTHING it was manners. Her face nestled into Nyx's hair as the emerald stared into Aurel, not intentionally that deep, but out of curiosity of what he had to say. "Leaving the past is something that is still unsettling. I was raised...in a tank with the year 1891 on my birth certificate. They called me A43L71. Nyx, your grandmother's watch is something I gave her." It was again that strange concept that her father was just a man. He was bound to the earth in an odd way, but he was still as much part of it as she was. However, his past was in solid, her future was in constant jeopardy. There was a constant paranoia where she wondered.

Everyday she woke up wondering if she'd even be there the next day. At times she was terrified to sleep and yet.. not a single person knew. It was a secret she didn't want to tell. Not to mention the fact she was stuck here until her father agreed to send her back.. but at the same time.. that might end his life. She could vaguely recall a mention in his journal. The use of alchemy for him was different.. it allowed all the strength and benefits, but in return he still had to keep giving. Did that mean in order to go into the future he had to die? Was Tatyana willing to force her father into that situation where he could lose his life just to put her where she belonged. Could she do something like that? Would the neverending circle continue? A constant destruction of herself and of him? In terms she felt like a ouroboros. There was no end, just a constant loop. She was chasing her own tail, but with nowhere else to go.

A tank born man and his daughter from the future who couldn't even recall her own mother's face. There was nothing: just a nameless entity never spoken of or questioned. She had just accepted it. Or had the travel back wiped that away too? How much did she have to sacrifice for salvation and destruction? Her emeralds shone darkly as she accepted his sentiments behind the walls of worries and concerns. Silence... the utter silence was there if only briefly, but she had a feeling there would be questions. There was understanding and intent, but her own wariness bested her to be silent rather than asking more on it.

[Kit Estenial]

Kit had already chewed up both of his poptarts, bogarting them down till every crumb was gone as the sisters played out their very natural position, looking rather adorable together, Nyx nestled in Tatyana's arm with her wings wrapped around tight. Kit needed to lie down, so he did, right at Tatyana's feet, his bell collar jingling as he bounced on the psuedo-bed. His kimono was exposing his upper torso, scars interrupting his smooth, alabastor flesh. Each marked a moment in his life, each holding a person, a place, and either anger or sorrow, but mostly both. He caught sight of one, the largest one at lease an inch and a half wide going diagonally across his chest. A very angry Mistress with a scythe had done this, marking the end of a rather twisted, but semi-happy life. His finger began to trace it, lightly as even now it still pained him to even touch in all senses of pain, but even then, the memories tied to its creation were still fond enough to be thought of.

Even then, his eyes had caught Tatyana's. Even after a short while, Kit and her had memories that didn't require scars. His memories with ALL of them had no scar, no physical reminder. Because he wasn't abused by them, used by them...he was treated as part of them. Like a part of a family. Nyx and Tatyana had acted like close relatives, while Aurelius was more of the father figure. Maybe that's why he didn't need a scar to remember it. His memories of pain, unease, unhappiness, were all too numerous to memorize by heart; he needed something tangible to connect his memories. But memories with them were happy...so they held special reserve in his mind.

Then Aurelius piped up, looking at his daughters as he spoke. His words carried weight even with the first sylable, signalling the imminent bomb that was to be dropped. "Forgive me, It is rather odd being known, but not knowing." Kit contemplated his words in the pause left in the thought, realizing that as much as Kit was known as a person by Aurel...he didn't know anything about him. Where was he going with this? "Leaving the past is something that is still unsettling. I was raised...in a tank with the year 1891 on my birth certificate. They called me A43L71. Nyx, your grandmother's watch is something I gave her." Kit...did not know how to respond. By analyzing just a few fragments, 'leaving the past' and '1891' denoted only one possibility. In his astonishment, Kit's tongue slipped back into its native movements. "You're a time traveller." His voice was barely above a whisper, only voicing a strange development in the situation.

Though outwardly, Kit didn't seem so shocked. The tank, meh, he'd seen it before, hell, his mother's womb was a DNA cocktail that would better be classified as a 'tank' than anything, seeing as how his childhood was spent. But Aurelius had left it there. Kit's eyes, crimson and glowing in the dark room, were wide with not shock, but fascination. Exploration permeated from him as Kit's body shifted from its prone position to upright, then shifted to beside Aurelius. Kit's knees were to his chest, holding them in his arms in a self hug. He looked at Aurelius with more relatability now, though he didn't know why. Perhaps it was because of just knowing something about him. Curiosity took over as his hand clutched the golden bell dangling from his collar.

"Please, sir....continue."

[Nyx]

Nyx soon enough decided that it was best to try and forget the fact that Aurel seemed a bit off, in favor of enjoying a nice and quiet family moment. But of course, those plans were spoiled slightly when Aurel decided to make himself a bit more comfortable on the couch, before turning to the mismatched trio of people that he referred to as his "family." From silent, he rather abruptly spoke, and then fell silent again. Nyx had heard bits about his past before, although this was partially a new revelation, one she really hadn't known about. But even so, her eyes widened ever slightly, as she thought over his words. They called me A43L71... They'd called Nyx "Perfekte Erzengel," the perfect archangel... At least she'd had something like a name, though... Without really thinking, her hand wandered over to Aurel's, and she grasped it, her watch brushing lightly against his fingers as she did so.

After a few moments, she spoke. "Then we're a lot more alike than I'd really ever thought... Must've been some kind of fortune to see this again, though, hm?" She smiled as she nodded towards the watch. It was oddly cyclical... He'd had the watch, then gave it way, and a hundred years later, it had been passed down as an heirloom, until its current owner sat before his eyes at that very moment, the watch literally millimeters from his hands once more. Destiny was a funny thing. As she thought about Aurel's past, however, it occurred to her; how much didn't she know about Kit? Or Tatyana? She knew only small fragments of their histories, where they came from, who they once were. Everyone had a story, and the only way to learn it was wait until it was told, it seems... Perhaps she should tell her own.

"I was raised in an orphanage for the first half of my childhood, with only a watch to my name. It was kinda nice there... Until I was taken away, to be used for Projekt Erzengel, by the last crazy guy, who even they didn't want working with them. I was in a cage for three years... But then I escaped, and ran right into you." With a smile, she looked to Aurel. Aurel... Her father... Her savior... Her idol... Her king on a throne of gold, the one person in all the world that commanded nothing but unyielding loyalty of her. Her Aurel.

[Jay Furor]

~BUMP~

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