I'm Waking Up: Origin Stories.

[geistnet]

You’re an old man who had a nasty run-in with Something That Went Bump in the Night, and once believed that the only way to make sure that you never had another problem like that again was to pick up a gun and shoot supes in the face before they killed you or hurt your family – and then some government shitheads called you up and told you that they’re your friends, you all have to get along. They took your weapons, sent you to some fucking program that felt too much like Alcoholics Anonymous. You hang up on them every time they check on you, but they still know exactly what you’re doing, every second of every day.

You’re a house wife in a quiet little town, accustomed to turning a blind eye towards the strange things that happened to people after dark because the local police either didn’t have a clue or were letting those things happen in the first place – and then some nice people in coats came in from God Knows Where, arrested some crooked cops, and made it all go away.

You make a new batch of cookies every Sunday, to give to the coated fellows who still hang around at the street corners downtown; some of them are young, so very young, and remind you of your younger brother. Your little ones want to be just like them someday.

You’re the kid who learns Judo rather than Track and Field after Math every day (Teacher Felipe says that you have to know how to defend yourself), then takes a quiz all about vampires, fairies and werewolves in Occult Studies. Every Wednesday, you tumble around with your classmates, and get mad whenever your best friend does his Superman thing and beats everyone to the top of the hill by flying there. Every Friday, a guy with more guns than you have teeth comes to school, takes over PE classes, and talks to everyone about what he does for a living. Sometimes, he takes “special kids” with him to another school, for special people like them. You hope that he won’t take your best friend away.

You’re the manager of one of the biggest call centers in the country. You’re happy because life’s been great ever since you opened your doors to the local vampire community. They’re damned good at their jobs, and you don’t have to deal with the HR nightmare of overtime, of medical bills and lawsuits anymore. And you feel safe, because you know that if one of them ever steps out of line, you know exactly who to call.

You’re the girl who leapt through time, who met a handsome stranger who took you to a fantastic place full of talking trees and flying fish, the girl who was loved and fucked and tossed aside when you started getting boring.

You came home and found that your house wasn’t your house anymore, that your parents have been dead for decades and all of your friends were old and gray while you haven’t aged at all.

They found you crying on a swing. They told you what happened, and helped you set things right.

You’re the drunkard at the local bar who sees monsters in every face, and still remembers what it was like years ago, when you didn’t have to be afraid of the dark, or wonder what’s beneath all the human skin and human smiles of every person you meet. The Truth fucked you up, you see. You wish that once upon a time, you had the better sense not to listen.

Whoever you are, if you were born between 1999 and 2066, you know about Hunters. You know about the conspiracies and compacts they are a part of, and the Vigil they keep between Day and Night, Light and Shadow. You know that some of them are human, and some of them aren’t, and some of them are somewhere in between. You know about why they’re here, and what they do while nobody’s looking. Hate them, love them, worship them, or revile them: it doesn’t matter. The World of Light and the World of Darkness have blended together, and that means that Hunters are around to stay.

o r i g i n  s t o r i e s.

This post is devoted to threading out the stories of player characters of Waking the Dead prior to their arrival at the Falner Estate. Tag in and tell us yours. We have a feeling it's a good one.

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[lyall]

[ She is seated a few paces away from him, burrowed into the warmth of her cloak, knees drawn up to her chin. She is watching the fire curiously, and wondering what manner of creature he is that he can do such a thing.

The only movement from her end when he occupies himself with whatever that small, foreign-looking contraption is, are the way she glances over with just her eyes to study his face. When knowledge is not forthcoming, she turns her attention back to the fire.

It is calming, looking into those flames, strange as they appear, at least to her.

She startles just as she begins to feel consciousness slip, and she shakes her head in an attempt to fight off the sleepiness.

It doesn't work. She's starting to nod off at intervals now, but she's bull-headed and tough and... yes, that's her sort of just... sinking down, head awkwardly tilted against her shoulder. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ Is there anybody nearby whom he can tell that he saw this coming to?

No one?

Well. That is a disappointment.

Watching her a moment, then standing up just long enough to fetch their blankets and head over to sit right beside her. No, he's never done that before. His excuse? It's easier for him to hand a blanket over to her if he's close. ]

Here.

[ This time, there is no statement along the lines of "you should rest". The gesture should be enough, shouldn't it? ]

[lyall]

[ She blinks awake and for a moment, can only stare at him owlishly, as if she can't quite understand why he's suddenly beside her and what that blanket is for.

She does eventually reach out though to take it, but she's so tired that keeping her eyes open is hard, and her grip falters on the hem when a yawns crawls its way out of her mouth.

Her eyes are watery and her head hurts, but she still feels reluctant to go to bed.

What if she sleeps and they go? What if she wakes up and she's alone again -- or worse, realizes that the recent events were only a dream? ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ And he'll catch the blanket before it can slip entirely, then unfold it with a flick of his wrists. After that, he's tucking it around her.

They're a bit past the point of him needing to be careful about her personal space. The girl's practically dead on her feet. ]

[lyall]

[ She struggles to stay awake the entire time he's doing that, but it's hard and she's fading fast.

It's the fear of what she might wake to see that has her reaching out through the layers of her coat and blanket, though the most she manages is to bump her fingers against the soldier's arm.

She hopes he won't think her stupid or weak, even if she feels, horrifyingly, that right now she is both. ]

I do not wish to sleep. [ Her voice is so terribly soft and she tries to insist to herself inwardly, that it only shakes because of the cold. ] I do not wish to be left behind.

[icarusalsoflew]

[ He doesn't answer her as quickly as he ought to, and it has nothing to do with disappointment and everything to do with an uncomfortable feeling in his chest and throat that keep the words from coming.

It's funny how memory works, how the actions of another could mirror, so perfectly, things that have been done in the past. He's here in Arcadia with a girl so totally damaged that one might wonder if anything could fix her, but he's also centuries away, in a cave colder than this open plain, curled up against a hole sealed by a grate of metal that will scald whoever tries to touch it.

"I'm all alone."

His hand's running through her hair now, as his arm is coming around to draw her close to his body. ]

You won't be. [ He'd like to think that his own voice is soft because there's no need for anything else, not because he's haunted by a memory. ] I'll be here when you wake up.

[lyall]

[ Perhaps it is because she is so exhausted that she cannot help the way the gratefulness shines past the exhaustion-prompted moisture in her eyes, or the shaky tilt of her lips that feels unfamiliar.

She has never had reason to smile, so she is unaware that perhaps that the first time she ever does -- under that massive sky overheard, out here in the middle of land that seems to go on forever -- she does, weakly, before she lets her body go slack as the soldier gathers her close.

She burrows into his warmth before she can think better of it. His words are the only reassurance that she needs, because after being so long exposed to the harsh watch of the Masters, here is kindness that she has taken two sunsets to observe; and it is a kindness that offers and asks for no payment in return.

Her last thought as her eyes flutter to a close, is that if all the people in the Blade King's Lightless Lands are like this one single soldier, the King may ask of her what he will, and she will gladly follow. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ There is such a thing as a smile that cuts deep, right down to the bone. The only response to such a gesture is to smile back. What else is there, really? Anything else might just hurt more.

Later, after taking a moment out for himself: ]

TO: JOSH
Kids are pretty adorable when they're asleep.

[ Then he's fetching his pipe, and having someone get him sake.

He'll sleep later. There are too many memories to keep him company right now. ]

[lyall]

[ She sleeps through the night and well past dawn. It feels like forever since she did that. So what Hikaru will first see is the alarm in her eyes whe she realizes that the warmth on her face is the sun up high, but she relaxes soon enough when she remembers who it is she's with.

She's a good little girl after that. She'll sleep when the others do, return to her rhythm and wake just as the light peeks over in the distance. She's quiet again, yes, but it's a peaceful sort of silence that eventually eases into understated curiosity directed towards the changing landscape instead of the people she is with.

She never strays far from his side. And on several instances, she shyly attempts to see to his needs in a way that is neither forced nor coerced.

Let her be of use to you, sir. She would like to prove her worth to the people of her new King. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ And because it seems important to her to feel useful, he does what he can to give her small chores around the tent that he's staying in, or through the camp. Yun Song is an officer: it is easy to keep up the facade without her getting suspicious. Of course, he won't have to hide for very long now.

On their second to the last day of traveling, she and the other children will notice that they appear to have lost daylight permanently. The landscape also appears to have shifted into something else entirely, reminiscent, perhaps, of some of the paintings the girl may have seen in the castle of her Masters. She will have a word for it later: ukyo-e, an art form known in a country called 'Japan', on the Prime Material Plane. All of the flowers glow where they are, right down to the Dawn's Promise that she gave him on their first real encounter. The stillness of the air is, as well, too often broken by the howling of wolves.

Said wolves start coming out of the shadows to join the contingent once they're on the main road, on the very last day of their travels through the outskirts of the Lightless Lands. They stare at the children with an intelligence that betrays their form, but make it clear to all of them that they will not harm them. Some, in fact, seem to really like it when the more daring girls and boys reach out to pet them.

One wolf is walking up to him now, head tilted.

MY LORD?

You've sent word ahead, I hope.

OF COURSE.

Now he's turning back to the girl, just to see how she is taking all of this. They're going to reach the capital soon. The buildings, in fact, loom in the distance among the swirling clouds and luminescent petals. ]

We're almost home.

[lyall]

[ She barely registers that he's spoken to her because her attention is focused fully on the wolf. She could not bring herself to be like the other children, even after it became clear that the creatures did not mind their hands coming to stroke the fineness of their coats, or to scratch behind their ears.

Some might have misinterpreted the way she refused to blink until those wolves moved away for wariness, but the truth of the matter is that all she feels is quiet awe.

Is everything in this kingdom a merging of the beautiful and deadly? What does that say then of the King? Will there be a place for her here, small as she is, brutish as she may be; she with her hands that have strangled the breath out of others so that she may eat. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ And the wolf looks right back at her, curious, just like its master.

He's reaching down, to curl his hand around her shoulder and try to catch her gaze. ]

What is it, little one?

[ Yeah, the nickname kind of came around on their fourth day together. ]

[lyall]

[ She's turning her eyes up to him now and the look in them is a little shy. ]

The King must be a good monarch to have such beautiful land and people belong to him.

[ Speaking to this one has become easy. She did not think that would be possible, but it is. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ (That is always nice to hear, is it not?)

Yeah... well. ]

They don't really belong to him, actually. We don't, I mean. [ That was close. ] He gives us choices. Some leave, and he finds that acceptable. He also finds it acceptable to allow those who choose to stay to serve him.

[lyall]

[ Choice. It is so foreign a concept to her, so out of reach for one like herself. But the last few days have challenged all that she has lived with for so long, and as impertinent as it feels -- she is glad.

She's awkward as she reaches up to take the hand set on her shoulder between both of her own. ]

I do not know if I will be allowed to see the King, [ because she is small and new, and her value to this kingdom has not yet been proven. ] But if I may humbly ask, sir.

This one is grateful that the King turned his eye to the land that kept her. This one would also wish to offer her life and loyalty to the King, if he will have her.

[icarusalsoflew]

[ She'll be able to see him smile. He doesn't put the mask up around her anymore. ]

I'll make sure to let him know that when we get there.

[ MY LORD. THE CONTINGENT IS READY TO MOVE ON.

Thank you. ]

Let's keep going. He's waiting.

[lyall]

[ Her hand is small in comparison to his, and she has seen firsthand what they are capable of; but they are also hands that have touched her with care and compassion.

This is why, while she nods, she is reluctant to let go, because in light of what he has told her, it is likely that once his duty to the King is done, he will leave and she will not see him again. ]

May I walk with you until then?

[ Those fingers tighten reflexively, before she wills herself to relax.

She understands that it is the way things are. Nevertheless, she would like, if at all possible, to make the most of what time she has in his presence. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

Of course.

[ He squeezes her hand back, flashes her another one of his smiles, and starts moving. He isn't the only one whose wards have grown particularly attached to their temporary guardians --

-- 'temporary'. That's an interesting word at the moment.

There is no fanfare for the Nalimutan when they step through the massive gates of the Capital, but the subjects of the kingdom do turn to watch their progress towards the castle. There are respectful nods in all directions, as if they were all simply soldiers.

Everyone in the city knows better, save for the tributes they are guiding.

The girl will note that the cold castle she was in for years is remarkably different from the one that they appear to be moving towards. The people of the land are also different: pale, stunning in their beauty, strange in their dress.

There is much to distract her, all the way up to when the entire contingent stops in the throne room. The Daughters of the Blade King are there. The wolves that had accompanied the party move away, and scatter in all directions. All of them turn into subjects of the Lightless Lands.

The First Daughter - a woman whose kimono has moving keys across its surface - is standing closest to the throne, one arm folded over her chest, the other bringing a pipe to her lips. She looks bored. The Second Daughter sits a little further down, her long-nailed fingers plucking away at the stringed instrument stretched out over her lap. The Third Daughter is at the foot of the steps, smiling at the soldiers; there are flowers growing out of her hair.

Curiously, the throne - a chair that seems to made completely of blades - is empty.

The soldier who has protected you, child, is squeezing your hand again, and catching her gaze. ]

I have to go now.

[lyall]

[ They are the words she has been expecting ever since the wolves came out to join their contingent. And while the city and it's beauty and grandeur did catch her eye, the closer they got to the castle, up those steps towards what she was fairly sure would be the throne room, the heavier did the corners of her mouth feel, the looser her grip came to be.

By the time he turns to her, she does not realize that her eyes are wet.

And her thoughts turn back to the flower she had offered him a week ago.

All things die or leave. It is just the way the world is. ]

Thank you. [ She is shrinking into the clothes he had given her and hanging her head because she can feel the way her cheeks are now damp and she feels ashamed.

Who knew that freedom could feel so bittersweet. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ What she'll get for that is her guardian kneeling down, and leaning in to kiss both of her cheeks. ]

Don't thank me yet. Save it for when I'm up there.

[ "Up there."

Yes. He just said that.

And there might not be much time to think on those words because he's standing up and moving away. With each step he takes away from her, another part of him seems to change. The armor melts away into a king's robes, his skin becomes the canvas for what seems like a hundred different moving pictures, the hair lengthens and grows past his shoulders, and a distinct crimson ring flares up in his eyes.

The soldiers are all dropping on one knee and bowing their heads now, as if none of them were surprised by this. Each of his Daughters bow as he approaches, but the First has Words.

"You're always fashionably late these days, Daddy." ]

I wanted to make sure that the children did not get too tired.

[ His voice is different too. He speaks as he always has with you, but it's enough to silence the entire hall.

Now he is turning towards the tributes, and sitting down. When he smiles, though, you may note that he's only really looking at you. ]

Welcome to the Lightless Lands - or, shall I say, welcome to your first day of freedom. I am Izanagi, the Blade King of this realm. I have freed you from your slavery.

[lyall]

[ She was stunned at first, by the offer of affection, which is a word she does not yet know. She is frozen next, by her confusion over those words, and then by how his armor becomes robes from one blink to the next. When he finally sits on that throne, there is a part of her that wishes she could hide beneath the floor of the castle, close her eyes and burrow under her own skin.

All this time, she had wondered and asked what the Blade King was like, and all this time the soldier had offered her responses in kind: that the King was a monarch of compassion and choice. He did not lie, because she had witnessed firsthand how he had offered both those things to her, a lowly child who had fought in the Pit as a matter of survival.

It does not register to her that he is looking straight at her, but it is mostly because she cannot bring herself to check if any of the other children are held by his gaze. She does, however, shut her eyes and bow her head because she cannot look upon him without feeling like she might as well be looking at the sun.

She does not know which is worse: that she had harbored a wish that the soldier who had treated her with such care was someone she might ask to be given to, or the fact that that soldier had been the King himself. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

Some of the Nalimutan have already told the lot of you about how I rule in my kingdom. Perhaps many of you have heard that I believe in choice.

[ He leans back, his hand already outstretched towards the pipe that the Second Daughter is fetching for him. The Third Daughter is setting the brazier on the floor beside him.

There is a pause as he lights up, and takes a drag. It's nice to be able to smoke something familiar again. This may be the only place in Arcadia that he actually likes. Go figure that it happens to be a place he owns. ]

You are all free to decide where you wish to go from here. Every one of my subjects has been instructed to protect you, to feed you, and to give you whatever else that you require until you have made your decision. You may also come and speak to me now. I will listen.

[ At those words, the First Daughter is moving from his side, and going down the steps.

"Line up, children. The King is waiting."

After a moment of confused silence, a few of the tributes start shuffling together. ]

[lyall]

[ She watches dumbly as the others fall in line, and while she knows it is best that she should follow suit, she cannot bring herself to do so, at least at first.

She will wait for the others to go before her, always with some reason or another to fall further towards the back of the line -- that one's limp was caused by her hands, because she had been starved for what had felt like ages and he had been the unfortunate candidate to meet her in the Pit; the other is too young and new and would have died had the raid not happened when it did.

Always some excuse to back away. And all because, if she is truthful to herself, she will be unable to ask for what it is that she truly wants. ]

[icarusalsoflew]

[ As promised, he listens to all of them, and he is a king, it seems, of his word. Whatever they ask for, they are given.

It takes a while, but it is not too long before she is the only one left in the throne room. The other Nalimutan are gone; some of them have been ordered to take care of the tributes.

He is watching her. He smiles the same, even if he looks so different. ]

Why don't you come closer, little one?

[lyall]

[ She comes because he asks, because he calls her by the only name that was not some sort of insult.

She keeps her eyes to the ground though, and is quietly grateful that the cloak he had given her hides away how tightly fisted her hands are.

This one's standing at a respectful distance, Blade King. Give her a moment, she was bad at Words to begin with. The anxiety over where this conversation might lead has only made it worse. ]