RP:A Fragment of Time

From HollowWiki


Somewhere In The Desert

Leoxander approached. That is to say, he'd be staring toward that ramshackle hut for some time. He had weapons on hand but didn't bother to grab any. The mask across his features concealed that frown well. A slow breath taken, and he progressed forward to place a hand against that door to step inside, come what may. Lycan eyes assessed his surrounding in the usual long take, but he didn't bother to take in scent, or prepare some alert defense. He would wait, to see what she had to say or do and would react accordingly. His attire was no different, and there was nothing, no one at his side.


Jolie was nowhere to be seen, not upon the single cleared space in the middle of Buckley’s neverending clutter, not at the desk where once Darian had penned his cold and insane missives to nobody. The elven owner of the shack was the only being visible, and to Leoxander he’d offer a cheery tilt of his spectacles, “Oh dear, my, my, there we are, trouble’s come a-calling and I’ve not got the kettle on…” Buckley would then vanish more deftly than his portly-for-an-elf frame might seemingly allow, back somewhere deep among the piles of weapons, books and bric-a-brac, leaving Leoxander alone.

The lycan would hear then hear a ‘click’ from somewhere at the back of his head, and a metallic nudge, sharp of point was offered there. “Hello, Leo.” That was Jolie. And that was her crossbow. A slithering sound rustled from behind bookstacks, wafts of silken webbing drifting gossamer across the room. Jolie had her fingers crossed, hard, as she leant in to whisper, “Cherry blossoms,” to the lycan, and then shouted, “Buckley! Let ‘er rip!” A chugging sound dimmed into a low hum.


Leoxander naturally expected an ambush. But he didn't ever anticipate making anything for Joliette easy. That nudge, and he stood still, eyes following Buckley's disappearance. But of course she would have assistance when she'd requested him to have none. He expected that, too. A sudden drop of his body would perhaps trigger the woman to fire, but he was quick. Speed was the lycan's greatest attribute, and he formed into a sudden roundhouse kick that meant to throw the would-be archer off her feet. There was risk of a bolt, but likely off aim by that point. Whatever the old merchant was about to 'let rip', though, Leo would have to deal with when that moment came. For now, he was attempting to grab that weapon, loaded or fired, to disarm her. Not having anything in his hands, yet, himself... it was a possibility.


Jolie had expected nothing less, if not the kick that sent her flying into a pile of sacks containing what sounded - and felt, to her still-sore back and spine - like a bunch of iron pots and pans. She’d manage to scramble up fast enough, though, and put up a very good show of struggle to save her weapon – several vicious punches aimed at a roguish face and a knife drawn somewhere along the line, perhaps scoring here and there – until the room was abruptly washed in a brilliant flash of silvery light that left dark spots before her eyes. At that moment, all struggle ceased. Rubbing her bruised ribs, Jolie dropped her bow and made the signal for halt, palm outward. “We haven’t much time, Leo. Sit down. We have to talk.”


Leoxander was still crouched as she grabbed for that blade and watching her in that wolf like way, darting suspicious looks back where ‘Bill’ once was when those swings came. One likely landed, perhaps even a snick of blade on skin when he tried to block another with his arm, but a windmill twist of appendage meant to throw off the third and he'd block any that followed with his ability. Although he wasn't taking any immediate swings back, that light flashed across his eyes like two mirrored lenses and he'd try to purposefully break from the fray to defend himself. Disoriented, Leo stood up and paced back to get himself against a wall at once, dripping blood on whatever floor there was. "What the f**k is going on?!" He'd demand, with his rage-grown fangs hidden behind that assassins mask. He'd not take a step nearer, not even to blatantly attack what seemed to be a complete ambush. 'Told you'... his conscience said.


Jolie blinked hard, trying to lose the flash-blindness and failing. She’d stumble to the center of the room and drop to sit cross-legged there, knife discarded with a skitter over to where her crossbow lay. “You’re so dense at times,” she sighed. “Come on. Sit the hell down, will you? We may only have a few minutes, I can’t be sure.”


Leoxander still suspected this to be a chance at his end. The rogue never took risks... until he met the engaged necromancer. And now he'd find himself drawn to her words with an unlikely trust, his brow furrowed in frustration. "You're a g'damn pain in the ass." He'd remark, holding the knife slash on his arm as he lowered into a crouch a few feet away. Leo wouldn't sit. She couldn't really expect him to - as he rarely did. "Tell me what's going on. Now. I came this far, didn't I?"


Jolie had every intention of doing so. “Buckley and Jobbie... never mind, long story... That humming noise? The light? That’s a shield against the Parasite’s ability to look into time and read our pasts. We have a window here to talk freely, and should either of us be in his clutches, all he’ll see is a fight. Got it?” She had to assume he had, as she hurried on, “Nobody knows I’m here. Nobody knows I’m working against the Time Lord, not even my own people, Leo.” The necromancer paled, then. “Did you tell anyone about my letter? If so, I have to know who and what was said.”


Leoxander looked almost ready to embrace her. There was something of desperate relief in his eyes. "I hope damn well you're telling me the truth, Jolie." It was so hard to know, these days. But he'd answer her question firmly, no less relaxed in that crouch, but listening a little more. "I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I didn't tell anyone about the letter." He'd done that for reasons beyond his own. He really hadn't wanted anyone to find his body in whatever condition it turned up. "Look... I know this isn't the time, but... g'damnit... I'm sorry. I'm f***ing sorry for-..." He'd stop there, and remember they only had minutes, and this was for war. "I'm listening."


Jolie’s cheek twitched at the unfinished apology. Whatever emotion that brought up died a swift death, and she nodded. “Good.” There was so much to say… so little time. Where to start? “Listen, then: I have rats in the walls and the drow up my backside. If his nibs gets wind I’m double dealing, I’m toast, got it?” She had an expectation so low as to be beyond nonexistent of any help galloping in from the island to assist her in that case, said the look in her eyes, but her voice stayed calm and low, “The Fold… I need you to convince them to.. well. Fold.” That chill gaze narrowed in a half-wince. “I know that is not going to make anybody happy, in the short term. But I have to make it –appear- that I’m working for the Empire, see? If I can cause some sort of apparent damage, get a foothold in Rynvale, hostages, something, I can help on the sly without having the Eldermage and his pals swarming all over us. Let alone the Parasite himself.. Make sense?” She flicked a sharp look back to the stack of books and odds and ends behind, toward Buckley, whose chubby hand appeared above the mess, waving signal that the fragment was holding up for the time being.


Leoxander nodded along, like old days. He was the rogue and listening to the sin eater's direction, once more. At least, willing to contemplate it. He wasn't that sure how honest she was being, but he risked it. He put his life on the line coming here, and hanging on these words. Many lives, for that matter. "You know that's not going to happen." He said sternly, when she remarked on the Fold. He had no loyalty to the people but he knew how stubborn they were. He knew their previous two commanders. "That's like asking you to collapse Cabal, Jolie. I can maybe convince them to break ranks for the end of this, but I don't know..." He didn't have much sway over anyone but the one who'd forfeit her government on that battalion. "I don't even know if I can damn well trust you. If I could... you know I'd let you have whatever leverage you needed to finish this." But... how could he ever trust her again?

Leoxander said, “You’re the one who’ll win this war.”


Jolie had as much reason to be asking the same question of herself, regarding the lycan. She pondered it not as she stared at him coolly. “That’s a pile of shit, and you know it. And if you can’t sweet talk ‘em… then don’t. In fact, best you don’t - he’ll only see it. Just don’t defend them, maybe? You lead the d.. the uh, pack out there. You have that elven slut under your thumb. You could direct them all elsewhere when we roll in to smash the Fold’s compound.” Her hand swept through dark hair, liquorice-hued strands tugged at in frustration. “And you can trust me, or not. But I’m on a very short leash as far as keeping Cabal safe and Vailkrin free of drow militia, or.. worse. I really need a hand to make it choice here, Leo, to do that and still help your cause at the same time. Help me out here, can you?”


Leoxander shook his head with a glance away, but back on her, soon enough. "I had no intentions of defending them against my people." He may have his own pack now, but like it or not, Cabal was his first family, and he could not bring himself to betray them. Not like he could his own blood. His jaw tightened a little at her continued jabs at the elf, but there was no point in trying to stop her. She obviously had more hate than love for him and his decisions. "What if you took me out..." He suddenly said, focusing his eyes to the point those pupils in off colored irises dilated smaller. "What if we made it look like I was out of the picture, just to prove your loyalty to him?" It might cause a lot of chaos, but wasn't that just what the Time Lord wanted?


Leoxander said, "It's me he wants. You damn well know it."


Jolie .. stared. Truly, blankly, stared at Leoxander like he was “… out of your freakin’ mind?” she sputtered, “…how’s that going to happen without your crew knowing it isn’t so? I’ll have wolves up to my ears. There’ll be …” Deaths. She sighed. Death wasn’t so bad. Not even her own. She’d not cared about life for a while now. “Nobody could know. Nobody. In any way, shape or form.” The final words of that were stressed sharply, and she levelled her eyes at the floor. “Is there no other way?”


Leoxander furrowed his brow at her, though he took a glance toward 'Bill's' direction to make sure the contraption was keeping up, not that he'd know. He was just worried. "How's that different from now? He's offin' another one of the innocents unless he gets someone from the list." His eyes were still locked on hers. "I've already been contemplating turning myself in. At least if you do it I can lay low for a while. He can make a mistake, then..." Jolie might be the one to win that war but Leo seemed to think it was himself that the Time Lord might be most cautious against. He was either full of himself, or figured out things the Chronomancer would rather not have others know. "You have a sister... in the pack. She damn near runs it with her new mate. He'll take Alpha, and command the pack."


Jolie’s lip curled at the mention of her ‘sisters’ but she did not speak the thought. “I can make it look.. make –you- look.. unrecognisable.” In fact, the means for that were right here. Lurking outside the shack, in case Leo had been such a dimwit as to ignore the silent plea in her letter that he come alone. This is insane, she thought, but went on, her mind’s gears and wheels turning almost too fast for speech, and faster once Buckley piped up with a warning that the fragment was running low on power. “I have.. creatures. Outside. When the fragment stops, we can continue our fight. I’ll kill you…” she almost grinned but did not, “… and throw your body to them. But how?” Think-think-think, she demanded of her burning mind. Another blink, and she turned her head to snap at the podgy elf, “Buckley! The mummy. From the desert city .. you still got that?” The elf shouted affirmative, in his overly verbose way, almost lapsing into the story of who the mummy had been in life and why Buckley had it, still neatly bandaged and minus its gold sarcophagus, in his broom cupboard. Jolie fortunately halted that tale with a sharp order for him to fetch and unwrap it. Then said to Leo, “Grab one of the pens on that desk over there. You have inking to do.”


Leoxander knew that this idea could damn well cause a war within a war, long before it could cause a solution, so he would keep it in the back of her mind, and hopefully she in hers, for a last resort. "Let's just... think on this. I can try to talk the fold into a temporary disbandment but if that doesn't work, what about a hell of a show? I'm telling you now I am not fighting for the Fold but I could play the part well enough. We plant bodies, dismember ‘em past reason. Maybe even find a few limbs to pass to the Time Lord in the meantime to keep him away from the innocents. How often can we meet here?" A look back to Buckley, and he added to the man he'd met a few times in the past, probably with Tenebrae. "We still need those cadavers, mate." And... somewhere to store them, until they could be used.


Jolie shook her head. “I don’t know. It can’t be used often, if at all after this. Not to this degree. I have the means right now to present Vuryal with a shrivelled, tattooed corpse, and only the vision of a deadly fight if he probes. If you took the fragment – empty of that amount of power or not, it’d hide you. As long as nobody knows, nobody who has any chance of transmitting it willingly or not to the Parasite.. do you see? You could hide long enough to do some real damage. And it’d give me time to think of how to deal with the drow.” But Leo had a point, too. Perhaps he cared for life more than she did, at any rate, which was fair enough. “If we do it your way.. Disbandment is not enough – they have to exile to Craughmoyle. You could tell them to let us win, you know? Less damage that way, and they wouldn’t have to know about me, and all of this. Tell ‘em it’s part of a bigger plan. It wouldn’t be a lie.”


Buckley was spluttering further warnings about the no-time running out, as he dragged a hideously shrivelled carcass through rows of rolled carpets and shelves full of desert artifacts.


Jolie added, "And then we risk the Time Lord catching one of us. And reading time, our actions out of this room, he could see what we're up to."


Leoxander frowned a little deeper as his eyes shifted Buckley's way. "We’ll get someone to tell him it's someone on that list. We don't need another idiot turned ghoul. But if I don't show back up to warn them somehow, you'll have a hoard of wolves up your ass and..." After a moment, he'd look back her way. "I don't want you dead. I'll do what I can, on my end."

He'd only say this while they were under the effects of that time temporal fragment, but something else was disturbing his senses, and Leo couldn't help but move out of his crouch to stand, then. His eyes tried to push through any flash or gleam of light, searching for the door.

Leoxander said to Jolie, "...For everything."


Jolie met his shifting gaze with a slightly dubious look, and would follow his glance to the door with a frantic widening of her own eyes. "Somebody followed...?" Speaking of death. If it came to whoever might be outside, versus the well-being of her clan - they'd lose - to a horde of horrors, parked on far side of the shack roof. "Get ready, then. You have to shoot me. Or me, you. We cannot walk out of this 'fight' unscathed. I'll abduct one of 'em on the list back here. Maybe Buckley can help hide them, and we can switcheroo the mummy. Sound okay?" She hoped she had it right.

Jolie flinched as though he'd hit her already, at the last of his words, and pretended she hadn't heard them over the howl of the wind and the whine of whatever machine Buckley had used to power this temporarily safe space.


Leoxander listened to the skittering of noise outside, and might have paled a few shades. "Just... not in the leg. I'll draw the most of ‘em away. You can handle any that stray behind." He'd turn his shoulder toward her, pretty much... offering his chest though he really hoped she'd just take aim at that left arm, between heart and joint. The necromancer knew enough about where to shoot and where not to shoot, if she wanted to avoid anything maiming. Apparently he trusted her enough to hold this meeting in regard, and cared enough not to send her back with an arrow wound. He'd pull his own bow out of the way, so no nicks on strings looked suspicious. "I give this a few more days before we're neck deep in shit, Jolie." This was all he said as he awaited her move.


Jolie moved to fetch her knife and bow. “A few more days is all I need. I’m stealing…”


“No time!” shouted Buckely.


Jolie flipped the knife in her hand so the tip pointed to herself. “Not you.” That was reply to his first comment, “You need your body sound more than I do. Oh – and Leo?” She grinned weakly. “When you get outside? Run like a dozen mutant spiders are on your tail. Because they will be.” And as the wall of time-defying light came down, the necromancer flung herself bodily at the rogue, the knife’s tip carefully poised at shoulder-height so it would sink into her own flesh, as though she’d slipped or Leo had stabbed her.


It wouldn’t matter. All the Time Lord would see was her falling, and the blood, and Joliette Thorne crying, “Bastard!”


Leoxander took a few steps toward her in that time between. He'd suddenly grab that knife hilt in her hand, and it wouldn't so much be she that drove it in. Leo, uninvited, unexpectedly, perhaps, did the honors, digging it believably deep. He'd given her the regeneration to recover, and would leave his scent on the blade, this way. That close, holding that knife in, he held her eyes just before she cried out. "Goodbye." He said, just before that fragment failed, and Jolie would even have that memory of him slightly twisting that blade in her arm, with a look that drove in the repressed emotions she'd caused him. He let go before it could do any 'real' damage, and turned to run, as though he'd ambushed -her-, shouldering through that door and right through the fray of beasts that would come skittering frantically, hungrily for him. Fortunately, speed and luck were on the rogue's side, that evening. He'd get caught up in a web of some sort but bust through and sprint out of sight.


Jolie’s earlier, telepathic command for her new ‘pets’ to let the rogue go had worked; she heard a faint, alien murmur of undead, mutant minds humming back to her, a drone of disappointment at their loss of a chance to refuel. Buckley was gibbering a string of fuss-bucket, worried comments and colourful curses, dashing about madly for bandages and other items of first aid. Leo couldn’t know that Jolie refused to shift at all these days, having developed the means to make sure she could not, to the best of her ability, which also slowed the regenerative properties of that despised lycan flesh somewhat. It didn’t matter. Things had gone better than she’d expected and the pain was, Jolie told herself, worth it. Grasping the handle of the dagger, tugging its blade free with a swift yank, she did not suppress a wracking sob that rose from her chest to spill out of her throat – the fault of the twisted, messy wound the rogue had dug in her.