OOCWhoa. This got real long, real quick. Sorry about that, but I couldn't sleep, and the scene was just bubbling at my fingers. ^^" The exact impact of Marcus' diction never struck the young man... Lilium's divine form was a lot bigger, as well as stronger, than Marcus had imagined, but he still held her tight as she turned anxiously away from him. As tears threatened to flood Lilium's sculpted features, Marcus was simply left smiling to himself. A peculiar sight given the circumstances, but there was reason to it. The scholar's entire purpose here was, on the surface at least, to help bring a fallen angel out of the morose darkness that enshrouded her. Now, one of the most difficult features about darkness is the lack of detail; its form is indefinite, its depth unseen. However, when one knew what the shadows where, and which monsters laid under the bed, it became a different game entirely. It became a game of realism, where Marcus was now faced with a woman who had spent centuries rough continent, and had committed her own brand of sin. Being confronted with this knowledge however, one might view this as a perfect opportunity to cut and run, but Marcus had a different perspective of the situation. He had a perspective with caution fluttering in the wind. Surprisingly, Marcus' impression of Lilium remained steadfast, as he had already assumed some evil had lain within her, it was just a matter of which of the many cards she had drawn. Living in the enlightened city of Zeltiva, Marcus sometimes forgot just how rough the world truly was, but the thought never entirely left his mind. He prided himself on a realist approach to things, and sometimes you're faced but no option but striking down an opponent. Making it personal only brings the pain to bear, like sea salt on a fresh wound. When Marcus had collected his thoughts sufficiently, he spoke up against the rough waves before him crashing around in a whirlpool of chaos and despair. His voice carried a heavy tone fitting for the protagonist of an epic, his words valiantly pressing through the shadows creeping through her mind. As he reached up to gently hold her cheeks, Marcus thought himself cutting quite the striking figure, his voice contrasting his touch so well, and a small smirk came across his lips as he sought to do what he had been doing all along. "The shadows need sunlight my dear Lilium, without which there is no shade. Please, do not cry for those long gone. They have been mourned time and time again by their own, and there is no longer a need for you to carry such a burden." Marcus knew how fragile this woman was, and he knew she was armed. But that did not cause a moment's hesitation in the man, and perhaps even urged him, hoping to reign in this lost woman with a gentle heart. Once again, Marcus let caution stay on the sidelines once more, and took the psychotic divinity into his arms, a hand supporting her back, and another cradling her head. This was not an embrace of passion or lust; this was an embrace akin to one between a husband and wife, between mother and child, and perhaps even between God and Man. This embrace held all of Marcus' intent within it's touch, and he hoped it was the voice of Laviku she heard from through the clouds of thunder and lightning, and not of Chaos incarnate. Holding her head in the crook of his neck, Marcus whispered gentle and comforting words into Lilium's ear, his eyes darting around the room meticulously. His words in matter weren't exactly light and uplifting, but they were true, and Marcus had always found comfort in the truth. He figured someone who has lived for centuries perhaps grew weary of lies and deceit. "You are not the shadows Lilium... You are simply stuck in the shade. It is your choice to stay there, or your choice to leave. But regardless, you have the power to change this. I believe in that fact more than anything else in this world." His eyes clung to the belt hung across the room, unable to discern much due to the sun's glare, but sharp metal veiled itself subtly in her wear. Marcus was relieved by the fact that she wouldn't instantly cut him open at the wrong phrase, but he had no doubt that she had the ability to beat him in a fair fight. And so Marcus set out to cheat. The best way to get rid of pent up emotion and fear is often to vent it in some fashion. For most, this involves a night out at the local tavern, or a bout at the training grounds. But for some who are beyond simply vented, for whose who required true change in their lives, there was always one option. A distortion of reality. A fact which is no longer true; Marcus had such a plan in stock, but more of a contingency than anything. As he held her in his embrace, softly, tenderly whispering to her, Marcus set out on a wild experiment of his own. A small layer of djed blotted itself along the young wizard's arms, invisible to everyone but its master. "When I look at you Lilium, all I see is the same girl I met at the docks. Just because your body changes, does not mean you do, no matter how hard you try to." Slowly, Marcus split his mind into two parts, the exercise of choice for curious wizards such as himself. One half maintained the steady stream of comforting words and tender touch, while the other focused on painting without such touch. It was a difficult task to say the least, as shielding required delicate precision, especially when dealing with such dangerous consequences. "I am here for you Lilium. I am flesh and blood and soul, and I wish you would shed these burdens that have been weighing on you, for you've done well in keeping them alive. Everything has its place though, and its your turn to let down the weight of your past, for you've been charged with twice the past than most men ever need bear." Precisely, Marcus continued covering his body in a base layer of the ethereal shield, a layer of cotton to serve as a magical foundation. When the paint was more or less covering him, he began the more difficult task of threading the web that made up his shield. Not only was he doing this without the concentration of his touch, and with a split mind, but he was committing to an unorthodox pattern he had never even heard of. Each time he extruded more thread to weave, a slight tearing sensation ran through Marcus' body. It was a subtle chill, traversing his being as he unraveled his own energy. Voicing his concern, Marcus pulled his head back, eager to look his companion once more in the eyes, which shimmered despite the tears they held. In the shifting he had noticed the sun was shining past him and onto her, glorifying her divine body. "Your eyes are so lovely in the sunlight. I hate to see them so filled with sorrow and hate..." Marcus weaved one layer of thread swiftly around his torso, before spinning out onto his arms. His partitioned mind would not hold out like this for long, but the facade would have to hold. He only hoped she was not a shielder herself, and saw through his plan. "Please Lilium. Let me help you out of the shadows. Let me pry you from those tendrils of the past that you shy under." |