Recent test rp

[badly_behaved_priest]

((OOC: This is to test how I rp the character and to act as an rp sample for an application! With help from my roommate amberdrake on another account magus_majere! ))


Damp and cold, seated on something hard and cold, back against something only slightly more comfortable; in the same way that gravel was slightly more comfortable than a thorn bush. Consciousness was fighting for solid ground, Sanzo's mind clicking, clicking away, trying to get a grasp of the situation before he could even open his eyes. Knocked out after falling in a river? It wouldn't be the first time.

Whatever liquid it was that he was drenched in gathered in beads on long lashes as he opened his eyes a slit. No, nope, this was not so welcoming a situation as being fished out of some deep, dangerous river teeming with hungry youkai. For one, he was naked. That made him shiver more than the cold. He could almost feel hands- He had to figure out what was going on.

It was dark except for the light above him. He was in a vat, seated on a metal grate with his back against the thick glass. It couldn't have been too long, his right arm was still a bright line of pain now he was awake to feel it. He brushed the liquid away from his eyes to let him open them fully without risk of blurring his vision if it started to trickle down.

The vat, what else? Others nearby, but dark and not yet drained. He could not see their occupants and he didn't want to. His stomach was churning enough as it was. His weapon, his sutra- on a gurney nearby, laid out neatly with his clothing, his robes, various possession. He was up too fast, he always was, dizzy and sore but this was hardly the worst situation he'd woken up to yet. That could be a dangerous line of thinking for him and he ceased it at once, as well as the creeping thoughts that tried to bring back the feeling of hands on his ankles, hands grabbing his hair or arm or neck. Muffled memories he didn't need.

What he needed to do was think and be quiet. Not that he wasn't being monitored, surely. Disgusting.

First things first, his sutra and gun nabbed clumsily with one working hand. The sutra rested on his legs as he ducked at the end of the gurney, checking to see if his revolver was loaded with his left hand- it was- while pulling down his robes with his teeth. He was nothing if not inventive when possibly trapped in a disturbing lab of some sorts. The gun had to be set down, sutra too, as he hastily jerked the rest of his clothing down. All the while, he was careful to keep his knees against a crossbar of the gurney to keep the wheels from squealing. If there were any guards nearby, they hadn't appeared yet and he'd like to keep it like that.

Even with one arm down, Sanzo had mastered getting dressed quickly. It was the damp that slowed him down more than anything. The tight clothing he wore under his robes did not take to being dragged across wet skin well, but he had no time to dry himself. He needed to be ready. He even paused before donning his robes, hand hovering over his gun, watching, listening, feeling. Nothing.

Properly dressed, sutra on his shoulders, and possessions also grabbed from the gurney, he ducked back down and crept backwards out of the light best he could, making to hide himself behind one of the other vats. What their purpose was, he had no idea. He had never seen something so strange and advanced. Who they could belong to, he had even less of an clue. Someone that did not want his life or his sutra. A rare person indeed that also had the power and resources for whatever this all was.

Comments

[magus_majere]

This time, Raistlin was not present for the draining and release of this particular tank. Chosen number two hundred and fifty one thousand, seven hundred and... something or other...

Well, the human reincarnation of Raistlin's former coworker had triggered the automatic release protocol. That happened, now and then, when one of the Chosen was... well enough. Raistlin had set up the CDC itself to handle it without his direct supervision. This was the last functional part of Haven, and he was the last functional Power. The rest floated in their own tanks, repairing; healing. Just like most of the Chosen.

That included the vat that Sanzo hid behind. Each was lit from within, just a little bit. Just enough to see a vague shape in the opaque fluid. Humanoid. Naked too, no doubt, but hidden from view by that opacity. There weren't any more gurneys with arranged belongings, so this one must not be about to wake up.

Someday. One day. A million years. It didn't matter in the pocket dimension of Haven, not until one woke back up.

But of course, the master of this place knew when a tank activated. He knew which tank, and he knew where its occupant had gone. That he didn't yet appear, well... was that a good thing, or a bad thing?

The vats and their contents had no insight to share. They stretched on into the abyss, dim lights spaced apart, in every direction, for seemingly forever. Here and there, a light was missing. Another opened tank? But not many. Mere specks, compared to the rest.

[badly_behaved_priest]

Nothing about this pleased Sanzo. He felt something about this place, some odd power, and what power it was, but its source, its intent? Nothing. Not knowing put Sanzo even more on edge.

That horrible liquid from the vat was dripping from his hair, the damp strands more mud in color than gold in this pathetic, eerie light. Everything about this place was disturbing. Bodies in vats for who knows how long? Were his friends in these horrible vats? Something told him they weren't and even still, could he risk breaking them? For all he knew breaking glass could kill the occupants. Shit, this was fucked up.

Drip drip drip. Clothed or not, he still had to struggle not to shiver from the cold. Maybe using his arm warmers to get some of this off first would have been a good idea? He wasn't going to dwell on that slip up. It was better to dwell on how long he was going to crouch here, waiting. His legs were already going numb.

Sanzo suppressed a "tch" of annoyance and slowly rose to his feet, gun up, shoulder against the tank he hid behind, ready to punch a few holes in whoever showed up. If it was any of those three idiots, and they had left him there, he'd need to reload a few times to get his damned point across!

He backed up a foot or two farther before turning and circling around the vat, looking out into the darkness. This way and that, a sea of darkness and vats. He had no idea where to even start looking. Nothing about the figure in the vat he squished himself against suggested it was someone he knew.

Fuck.

[magus_majere]

"Shirak," it was a whisper, like spiders crawling out from the darkness. It triggered light, cold and white, bursting from the top of the staff in Raistlin's hand. This light, harsh and unforgiving, threw everything into sharp contrast. It caught the glitter of his strange eyes under the hood that hid his face. The hand clutching the staff was golden; metallic skin stretched over fine-boned, long fingers.

A wisp of elderly white hair had escaped his wide, deep hood. The rest of the Power was in darkness, despite the light his staff cast. His shape was soft at the edges; thick, muffling black velvet draping over him from his hood to the floor. There was a smell about him; rose petals... and the sweet tang of decay.

He had not been there a second ago.

[badly_behaved_priest]

Raistlin's surprise entrance knocked the wind out of Sanzo. Not because of his appearance or even the suddenness of another appearing from nowhere, but the power this man radiated. No youkai he had faced came close to this. Not even Ukoku or that thing inhabited Hazel could touch this level of power.

Sanzo gritted his teeth as he ducked away from the light, clearly spotted but he wasn't going to be able to see shit looking right into that. His gun he kept in clear view, pointed directly at Raistlin's heart, if this was even the real thing, while he squinted around the edge of the vat.

"Where?" Sanzo demanded in his best rasp. He hadn't tried talking since he'd woken up and clearly he needed a bit of time for his voice to loosen up. For now, that would do. Who this fucker was? Far less important than where Sanzo was and why some sort of god had bothered to keep him in a tube.

[magus_majere]

Raistlin was curious, but also bored. Detached. Sanzo was forever a bug under the glass to him. Nothing but a strange creature who shared Konzen's pure golden soul. There it was, blazing beneath withering, frail mortal flesh.

He wondered, sometimes. Did Genjyo Sanzo feel it, like the furnace of magic he himself felt? Burning, consuming, eating away at him... or was it a force he merely exerted, and did not feel?

Fascinating questions, but he would hardly deign to ask them. This human, rotting away to his gaze...

It began anew every time he blinked -- and he didn't blink much. This withering mortal would hardly understand those questions, even if he posed them. Genjyo Sanzo wasn't prepared to understand them; wasn't permitted to understand them. That was how reincarnation was supposed to work, it seemed. Even for a God.

So, he didn't ask. But he did stare, and wonder. And he didn't reply, not for a good long, silent few moments.

"Haven," came the raspy whisper of a voice, and Raistlin let go of the Staff of Magius. It remained upright while he pulled a file folder out of thin air and flipped through the pages within. "...Ah," he said after another moment, his own voice showing no sign of improvement. Not a temporary thing for him, then. "You were in that batch."

[badly_behaved_priest]

The incredibly cryptic nature of that reply only frustrated Sanzo. There was a click as he pulled back the hammer of the tiny revolver, an empty threat and Sanzo damn well knew it. Like hell he wasn't going to put on a show of not being completely screwed, however.

He slid his way another inch along the side of the vat to get a better view of this thing, youkai or human or whatever it might be. Deep purple eyes met golden ones and he immediately regretted making eye contact. His gaze quickly flicked to between Raistlin's eyes. Another image to push out of his mind for now.

"And that-" A pause for a breath to soothe his throat. His normal deep voice was returning at least. "-means what?" Sanzo doubted it really mattered what it meant. His survival wasn't dependent on the answer, but he might get something about how he could escape from the answer.

[magus_majere]

Raistlin had always taken some perverse satisfaction in shocking others with his appearance. And, of course, with what reflected in his eyes. He reached up with his free hand to push his hood back, and it was a young man's face under that old man's white hair...

Young and bitter, under that golden skin that gleamed metallic under the harsh light of his staff.

A snide little smile curled his thin lips, and Raistlin let his gaze flit to the gun. To his eyes, if he stared long enough, it would corrode, rust, and then flake away. Right along with the dust of that finger on the trigger.

Endless winter, endless death. He was used to it. A blink reset the march of time, and it began anew. "You know better," Raistlin's tone was sardonic, "than to think any answer I could give to that would help you."

He snapped the folder shut in his delicate, frail looking hands. It vanished. "Ask the real question, Genjyo Sanzo."

[badly_behaved_priest]

"Tch."

Sanzo did not like getting read like that so easily. He had betted on this arrogant creature staying evasive and presuming him an idiot. Pompous assholes always talked too much. But this one had a brain between its ears to go with all that power. A horrible combination.

There were plenty of questions to ask now. One of the big ones being: how the fuck do you know my name? An easy one to answer himself. That folder, everything laid out neatly, including his sutra... This thing had plenty of information on him and that made him equal parts furious and sick.

He didn't answer for a very long several seconds, gun still fixed on the golden man whose youth could be a facade as far as Sanzo knew or cared. Sanzo's real dilemma now was his rigid, stubborn pride. The last thing he wanted to do was listen to this man who might as well been the one to shove him in that tube. Injured, tired, and with no hope in hell in defeating a being of such intense power, he had to do as he said.

Fuck

How long could he stand here silent, trying to figure out how to defy him while still getting what he wanted? He wasn't sure the man cared enough to cause him harm if he ran but he could well be his only way out of here. If he cared to do that. It wasn't hard to tell that he considered Sanzo beneath him and Sanzo didn't have much to argue that point with.

"Where's the exit?" he damn near growled, his pride stinging worse than his arm.

[magus_majere]

"Ah, there it is," Raistlin's smile was snide, mocking. "The real question. It took a while, but you found it. This way," he gestured, and then turned to lead the way, staff once more in hand. It clicked against the floor with every step, his robes whispering. Pouches of spell components creaked from his belt. The small bones and skulls on strings dangling beside them clicked against one another.

The smell of decay came from some of those pouches. So did the rose-petals, and a variety of other scents between. Beneath it all, there was illness... and that didn't come from any pouch. If one drew close, he radiated an intense heat, as though that power was palpable.

Or rather, it was as though he burned with a fever that should have cooked him alive. The man was a furnace; the outside reflected the inside, in that one regard. How could he stand such thick robes while putting out so much heat? Who knew.

"Keep near," Raistlin said without looking back, shuffling along like an old man. He leaned heavily on his staff with each step. "There are others far less friendly than I, out there in the dark."

The crystal at the top of the Staff of Magius kept glowing that cold, harsh light. But the radius seemed like it could be swallowed by the dark at any moment.

[badly_behaved_priest]

Sanzo followed, however unhappy he was about it. He stared intently at Raistlin's back as he did so, making sure to keep an eye out for the "others" at the same time. His gun was staying out and ready regardless, but now he had a real reason for it.

He had dried off enough by now for the goosebumps to be from more than just the cold. Afraid of the dark? Hardly. But darkness so dense that it felt it could swallow them both whole if it desired? That, he was not a fan of.

His teeth were clenched out of more than just irritation at Raistlin. This all felt so wrong, this place felt wrong, foreign in a way he couldn't find words for. And his guide was not helping matters. It's not as if Sanzo was going to get close but he still got a feel of that heat now and then and the smell- There was decay he could smell and feel and he liked neither.

"Were there others with me?" he asked in a resentful, snappy tone. He could guess the answer but he couldn't stand the silence that came with darkness like this. Sure there was the sound of their movements, even the click of the staff, but there was deep silence beyond that. He needed to take his mind off this oppressive blackness around them.

[magus_majere]

"More than you recall," Raistlin enjoyed being cryptic, when the mood suited him. And sure enough, there was movement in the dark. A wisp there, a shift here. A ghost's disembodied head drifted just into the light more than once... and there was more than one of them out there. At one point while Sanzo let the gap grow a little too much, a hand brushed against the hem of his robe. Gone as quick as it came.

To an Empath, there was a Hunger out there, kept at bay only by the Staff's light. "Those are my servants," rasped the archmage. Perhaps he was taking mercy on Sanzo's discomfort with the silence. Or, perhaps he wasn't taking any mercy at all! "If you shoot at them and hit a vat, you may kill someone inside."

Raistlin paused as speaking caused a hitch in his voice. He tensed for a moment, willing the coughing fit to not happen--

Gods, it seemed, couldn't control everything. Raistlin bent, leaning heavier on his staff as he coughed into one sleeve. The sound had a wet, tearing quality to it, like someone dying. And the coughs kept coming. He couldn't breathe between them, couldn't inhale! The 'servants' swarmed closer to the edge of the light. But they didn't cross into it, even as it flickered slightly.

[badly_behaved_priest]

One fucking thing at a time would be great, Sanzo thought, his heart still racing from the ghostly body parts, especially the one that dared make a go at his robes! He'd felt a burn of shame at the sudden rush forward into the light after that. The more frequent wafts of heat off Raistlin at the shortened distance weren't helping.

And now this. This thing was sick, no doubt about that. Seemed that all that power didn't stop coughing fits. And what was Sanzo supposed to do about it? Not like he cared about the life of this creepy fuck but he needed him to get out right now. He was no Hakkai, he couldn't magically ease his breathing. Hell, anything he did would probably make it worse.

To top it off, he ached to fire at these damned "servants", scare them off, but as good as his aim was, he couldn't risk literally shooting in the dark. An innocent in a vat for the sake of possibly getting the creatures to flee wasn't worth it. He still kept his gun pointed out towards them, picking a new target every so often.

A glance back at the struggling mage. Wonderful. "If they're your damn servants, can't they do something?" If this man with godly powers died of a fucking coughing fit of all things, he'd be stuck in the dark with the "servants" anyway.

[magus_majere]

But it was the ghoulish servants who answered first. "If the Master turned off the light..." one began, whispering.

"...We could eat you," another finished.

Raistlin's cursed vision tunneled to an alarming degree before his lungs un-seized. "Begone!" he rasped out, finally gaining enough air for speech. The undead minions fled like he'd cracked a whip.

The blackrobe slumped further against his staff, pulling a cloth out from within his robes. He dabbed the blood from his lips, then tucked it away again, the motion automatic. Normal. Still, his eyes glittered cold in the light, fixed on Sanzo. It was clear he was daring him to say a word about his frailty. Just one word of pity, or scorn. He would regret it.

[badly_behaved_priest]

Sanzo was not near that stupid, even if he was inclined to comment on it. No, he watched with what passed as a calm expression for him, sour but not angry and certainly no sign of pity. Raistlin managed to live this long hadn't he? Sanzo was more concerned with pretending that whispering hadn't made his stomach clench.

He huffed, not meeting Raistlin's eyes for obvious reasons, and looked away. The mage-youkai-maybe-a-puppet person with the incredible, god-like aura probably needed a moment so he made a point of looking through his things, passing his gun to his weak right hand to poke around his sleeves. Everything was in place; his fan, the golden crown, glasses, cigarettes, and, yes, Gojyo's spare lighter. He even clicked it on to a small, weak flame. Feh, it would need refilling soon.

Once the lighter was shoved back up his sleeve and his gun back in his working hand he looked back at the other and said, in a bored tone, "We going?"

[magus_majere]

That response put Genjyo Sanzo above the buffoons Raistlin often dealt with.

Given the time to recover, Raistlin regained his breath. He straightened up -- at least, to his usual slouch -- breathing from a tiny bag of bitter herbs. It wasn't as effective as brewing it into a tea and drinking it, but it would help stave off another fit. At least, for a time.

He replaced the small pouch on his belt when Sanzo finished with his 'inventory'. The look he gave the priest was... at least grudgingly approving.

"Yes," he rasped out -- well, now Sanzo knew why he sounded like that! And he resumed leading the way. As they walked, the vats turned to gnarled, strangely terrifying trees. At some point, they were walking a forest path. The darkness between those trees was worse than before.

But within the Staff of Magius' light, Sanzo was safe enough. They passed through the Grove's insistent cameo into the CDC untouched.

Well, untouched for the most part.

Something below them had made a grab for one of Sanzo's boots at one point. It had slipped free at a sharp glance back from Raistlin.

Eventually, the trees parted and faded away again, and they came to a raised platform. Raistlin started up the steps, and as he did so, the portal at the top came to life. It was big enough for Jeep to drive through, were he here. Five different-colored dragon heads and necks created its border.

Nothing could be seen through the portal but swirling green chaos. Raistlin came to a halt before it, a breeze-that-wasn't rustling his robes and his long white hair. "And here we are," he said finally. "The big choice."

[badly_behaved_priest]

Sanzo didn't return the look, content to keep pretending he hadn't noticed jack shit. He did, at least, have a similarly grudging degree of respect for the other. This was no god, as far as Sanzo knew, and that power had to take its toll. If he wanted to keep his body running like that, so be it. Not Sanzo's business.

The creepiness, however, was wearing on his patience. Even the grab at his foot- fuck he hated that- got more anger than fear. He was damn sure he'd have a nightmare or three about this particular venture and that was only annoying him further. Pissing hungry darkness, pissing grabby hands, pissing everything about this fucking place! He just wanted to get out of here and have a smoke to cool his nerves. A couple beers wouldn't go amiss either but he doubted that was going to be his parting gift from his hellhole.

And now more of this cryptic bullshit. He really wanted a fucking cigarette right now. Sanzo was neither stupid nor cruel enough to blow smoke in the face of some dude who coughed up blood on a seemingly regular basis but the thought crossed his mind.

The look he gave Raistlin was very much done with all this. His tone was equally done when he replied.

"The choice of looking at your ugly ass or going through this thing?" Maybe he was pushing his luck baiting the golden man of unimaginable power with eyes that reflected horrors, but he had one hell of a headache at this point. "Close? You have some more mystical shit to tell me first?"

In a mutter he added, "Bet you were a monk at some point."

Not that he thought that was the least bit true but dammit his head hurt.

[magus_majere]

"I did serve the gods, for a time," Raistlin chose to answer, amusement in his tone. He was laughing at Sanzo without actually doing so, and he didn't bother to hide it. "But not as a cleric, no."

He gestured to the portal with one attenuated, golden hand. "The choice is whether to go through this, or remain here. I am busy; you would have to find something else to stare at. As for the portal," Raistlin looked at it, now, and smiled a sardonic little smile. "It may take you to your world, or... it may not. I can offer no true prediction, with the storms wreaking such havoc."

[badly_behaved_priest]

Asshole. Sure he had asked for it, but still. Asshole.

Sanzo glowered at the portal instead of Raistlin, knowing the mage was unlikely to stick around long while he mulled over his choices. Or mulled over that bit of information. Another world, he wasn't sure how to process that one. A pocket dimension maybe? He'd been in more than his fair share of those.

Nothing in Sanzo's life was allowed to be fair. Something he had accepted a long time ago but, here he was. Staring at his only option and what a shitty one it was. He didn't like the gamble involved here and had no confidence he'd be delivered back where he should be.

He really needed a smoke right now.

Fuck it.

"Fucking fantastic." And with that he stepped through the portal.

[magus_majere]

Raistlin Majere watched him go, and smirked as the portal shut down behind him. No true prediction, no. But...

Well, some prediction, anyway. Where would Konzen's golden soul drag its mortal frame to? Which call would be answered next?

Only time could tell.

And he was time.

"Dulak," the Master of Past and Present whispered, and the light went out.

OOC

[magus_majere]

Raistlin's Player: tubed Sanzo, like bitchy toothpaste
Sanzo's Player: OMFG

(when referencing dat pose)

Re: OOC

[badly_behaved_priest]

It still makes me laugh.