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

[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.