Who the hell do you think you are?!

[Anonymous]

Fuck this noise!

Weren't forests supposed to be peaceful? The only noise that should come from forests were the babbling of brooks, the whistling of wind, or even the quiet murmuring of a stream. Forests were supposed to be places where a guy could get a little rest and relaxation – maybe lay up in a tree or take a nap in the sun, you know? But Vestige had been used to things never going his way – in fact, he could never think of a time when anything had ever gone his way. He wore anger well – his teeth clenched, veins in his forehead popped; he looked ready and willing to kill.

He was a red blur speeding through the Draconi Forest – his form was impossible for the human eye to make out. Animals whimpered and retreated from his presence, while the ground under his feet rumbled as he gained speed. Vestige barely even recognized his surroundings – the trees, the falling leaves, the animals who stared on at him like he was a ghost haunting their earth – they were all inconsequential to him. The only thing he could focus on now was the sound of that infernal noise, and he wasn't even sure how he was going to shut it up when he finally got there, but he'd do something about it, goddamnit, because, couldn't something go his way, for once?

To the normal human, the Draconi Forest was as silent as a sleeping slug – but Vestige was not normal. When one looked at him, such a fact was easy to tell – and it was not from the way he dressed. No, his flaming red hair, tattered black pants and spiked choker were not telltale signs, but the aura he gave off, an ungodly aura that make his skin burn to the touch and his gaze shoot daggers into anyone who dared look him in the eye. Maybe once upon a past life, he had been a normal human (and those memories were long gone now), but the artificial god, the one that ran through this forest as if the devil were whipping his heels – he could hear the noise, from miles upon miles away, that no other human could.

Someone was praying.

Someone was fervently praying, and so loud were their prayers that they might as well have been blasted through his head with a megaphone while standing two inches away from him. He could hear them – hear their pleas and cries, could listen to their hope that a god somewhere would help them. Their faith was astounding – never before had Godsound bothered him so much, never before had he wanted to beat logical sense into someone's mind, just to get the prayers to stop. Normally, most prayers would be meek and timid, prayed by those who knew, somewhere in the back of their mind that their prayer would most likely not come true, but they whispered them anyway, just to help them sleep at night. This one, however, was different.

This one just made a lot of goddamn noise.

He was nearing a shrine in the middle of the forest now – it was a small, abandoned looking place, where anyone of any faith could come and fervently hope that their cries would be answered. The Godsound did not care who the prayer was offered up to, Vestige, unfortunately, was tuned in – but finally, this nightmare could be over.

The artificial god scaled the treetops, rushing from branch to branch, breaking them with the sheer weight of his anger alone – leaving their branches in his wake. Down below, he could see the figure praying, but whether it was a man, woman, or race was it was, or if it was even human at all, did not concern him. He leapt from the treetops, the force of his drop rumbling the ground, leaving a small rupture in the earth where he landed. The artificial god had landed right behind the figure who had been praying ceaselessly.

He cupped his hands together, and in his loudest, most obnoxious voice, yelled: "HEY!" That oughta get their attention. With one hand on his hip, and the other pointing accusingly towards his victim, he yelled, "I can hear your goddamn praying from miles away, asshole! Just who the hell do you think you are?!"

If this poor soul thought he was a god that had come to answer their prayers, well, they'd be dead wrong.

[ OOC | This thread is open to anyone/everyone! Feel free to hop in! Just be warned: Vestige doesn't like your praying. ]

[Anonymous]

Forests were nice.

Maybe certain people were pestered by prayer, but for those who don't hear such voices in their heads they were often quite peaceful places. This was assuming, of course, you didn't happen across any of the number of wildlife species who might decide that a lone wanderer through the woods looked (and smelled) delicious. However, even these animals knew that there were certain forces - of nature or otherwise - that you simply didn't mess with. A demon was one of them.

Sure, Charlotte didn't look like a demon. In fact, she looked more like some lost wanderer - albeit one in traveling gear - who was likely to be eaten by a grue. But the beasts of nature seemed to have a way of knowing when an unholy, soul-sucking creature was passing by. It was hardly fair, really; Charlotte hadn't sucked a soul in several decades. Oh well, at least it allowed her trip through the forest to remain peaceful.

Of course, a peaceful stroll wasn't the entire reason she was here. Rather, she was here to explore; she hadn't really witnessed the contents of this forest often, and there was always the chance of finding something new. Sure, if there was anything here in the forest it would likely take a lot of searching to find, but time and patience were commodities that Charlotte had in spades. It was hard to be concerned with time as an immortal being.

Throughout her search, Charlotte hadn't seen anything of interest yet, but she did feel something: a strange power, seeming almost divine in nature. Typically sources of divine power weren't something to which demons would flock, but she was hardly normal. Curiosity once again got the better of demonic nature as she resolved to investigate, albeit cautiously.

After some time spent not-too-hurriedly searching, she came upon the shrine in the midst of the forest just in time to hear the outburst shouted at some poor human in the shrine. Ignoring the natural discomfort she felt for the place, Charlotte's curiosity bade her to continue until she was within earshot. There she observed the one radiating the power; he looked human, but that didn't mean much, really. But still, screaming at this poor person for praying was...almost funny, in a way, but also just mean.

"I think the better question is, who are you?" Charlotte decided to speak up, although her tone wasn't particularly aggressive - more a reflection of her own curiosity. This was something she hadn't expected to find. "You seem awfully angry at a simple prayer."

((OOC: Clearly I've been watching too much anime if your post made me think of this.))

[Anonymous]

Vestige was the reason why people should never meet their gods.
 
The religious devout – clad in ceremonial robes and shaking in his sandals – looked upon Vestige with all the fear and none of the awe that someone looking upon a god should have, and it pissed him off, as usual. The praying man said nothing, but could only quiver and shake and point at him – possibly because of Vestige's unusual entrance, or because of the fact that he looked more demon than god. Whatever the reason was, it didn't seem like Vestige was going to get an answer out of him, but, thankfully, the guy had finally shut up.

But the world did not revolve around Vestige – and while there were times when he was glad for that, there were moments like these when he thought he wouldn't mind being an actual god, if that meant having a little peace and quiet. Another figure – not a devout, not someone religious, for no prayers ran through her mind – stepped from the quiet shadows the forest cast, and Vestige was surprised he hadn't noticed her before.

Then again, who could notice anything, when people were whining and praying so loudly in his head? Oh sure, just because he had silenced this one man did not mean his head was clear from the noise entirely – there would always be prayers, there would always be cries to nameless gods for salvation for the damned – but now, at least his head was a little quieter.

To her, the better question here was – who are you? Granted, it was not an aggressive question, but one tinged with curiosity. He was angry, she noted – awfully angry – at what she deemed to be a simple prayer. At the word 'simple,' he scoffed, shaking his head, slipping one hand into the pocket of his tattered black pants, tilting his head upward, as if to get a better look at her. It was not his usual look of contempt, but one of curiosity – mainly because her head was surprisingly silent. And who was she anyway, to come waltzing out of nowhere, distracting him from telling off this 'saintly' (more like sanctimonious) prayer?

"What you might classify as 'simple,' I'd classify as annoying – especially if you can hear it ringing through your head," he spat at the ground, "like a goddamn choir bell." Uncouth and unmannered, Vestige's mannerisms did not apologize for his lack of breeding. His speech, however, was idle, casual, as if he'd stop to talk with just anybody who interrupted his daily life – which was true, anyhow.

"Is it really such a better question, though?" he wondered, as if he actually cared whether it was or not – sarcasm speakers back on once again. "The best question, I think, is, who are you? And ain't it rude to ask who someone is before introducing yourself?" he laughed, thinking back to his former outburst on the prayer. "Now, I'm normally rude as all hell, but I'll ... make an exception for today."

Normally, he wouldn't have bothered with the introduction. He could've played the annoying asshole game, and refuse to disclose any information, but hell, he was bored, and curious as to why her aura felt... different from others. Whether Vestige liked it or not, he had a close connection to humans – could feel their emotions and prayers radiating toward him like a magnet – but with this one, all the sensors were closed off. Was she even human at all? If not, all the better for him – he'd had it up to here with humans.

"Name's Vestige," he introduced unceremoniously, and as usual, his name seemed to have a bitter taste on his tongue.

"Some people say I'm a god, but some people get punched in the face for shit like that."

[ OOC | Another TTGL fan, awesome! -highfives- I've always wanted to have a character say that line, and Vestige just seemed like the perfect candidate. Also, feel free to NPC the praying guy - I had no idea what to do with him, so I kind of just left him there. ]

[Anonymous]

Annoying? Charlotte supposed it was possible for a godly being to become annoyed, but prayers seemed like such a very basic aspect of goding. Then again, the same could be said of demons and their tendency to steal souls, and if it was true that beings such as this could hear every prayer ever uttered or even thought, she could see how that could get old rather quickly. For all her years of life, Charlotte had little direct experience with gods. As a demon it was generally better for her long-term health to keep her distance from them.

But this person was different. Despite the godlike power that radiated from him, he acted nothing like any preconception of what she may have considered "god-like." In fact, he behaved in a very distinctively human-like manner, like one might expect from a lowborn human. Not that she tended to judge humans based on how lucky or unlucky they were in regards to how much wealth they were born into.

"You are right," she said as a faint smile formed. "I'm afraid my curiosity got the better of me." As he introduced himself, Charlotte took a few slow steps closer, seeking a better look at the man. "Vestige?" she asked. "What an interesting name. I am Charlotte Travere, a historian." The seemingly human woman's head would tilt just slightly. "So, Vestige, what are you if not a god? You don't exactly seem human, either. That is, if you do not find the question too terribly rude." Charlotte found she preferred to stay on the subject of people other than herself. There was little to learn just from talking about one's self, and she preferred to avoid the likelihood of revealing her demonic nature as much as possible.

The man who had been praying watched the exchange for a few moments, thankful that at least he had managed to control his fearful reaction enough to not need a change of pants. Seeing the two apparently distracted with each other, the man began to quietly slip away.

[Anonymous]

Vestige – it was not really his name, but a label Deusmech had given him, something that they felt sounded tragic and godly. He hated it, really, and if he knew what his real name was, he'd use that in a heartbeat, but until he did, he would be Vestige until the day he died – if that day ever came. He would've laughed bitterly at this realization – that he might be walking this world forever if no one else ever managed to kill him.

"A historian," he echoed – it was not a question, just an affirmation. "What's a historian doing out here in these woods? There ain't anything worth studying out here. Nothing but crickets and bugs and guys who spend all their time praying to invisible tyrants." It wasn't like he'd been here very long, anyway, but that was Vestige's take of the place, for the whole fifteen minutes he had spent in this forest.

He had been on his way to Serendipity and decided to cut through the Draconi Forest – but that had proven a big mistake. The devout had been taken care of though, but Vestige wasn't one to pass up potentially good company. Her aura – it was a weird one, and it didn't seem human to him. He was curious to find out more about her, but, contrary to popular belief, Vestige had a huge ego, and it wasn't easy for him to not talk about himself if he was asked a question, and Vestige pinned her as the curious type.

"Rude?" He laughed. "There are no rude questions – just boring snobs who won't answer 'em." His hands were still stuck in his pockets, and he cast his eyes up toward the sky, wondering how to classify himself. "You could call me a godslayer. Someone built to be a god, but turned out all wrong. A failed experiment. So, like any fake, it seeks to eliminate the originals."

The artificial god laughed, shaking his head – when did he become so moody? "But historians don't study godslayers, do they?" He wouldn't know – didn't know the slightest thing about historians, but if they were anything like the girls back in Deusmech, those 'worthy' girls who always had their head in a blasted book, then she probably had the same curious appetite, just like they had. Her dark aura did not seem to match her personable personality – but maybe it was just a feeling he had? It wouldn't be the first time his intuition went awry.

[Anonymous]

Charlotte smiled. This was a question she had been asked before. Most historians were content to sit in a library studying books about discoveries that were already made, accounts already written, ruins already excavated. These were things that Charlotte had already done. It wasn't as though she could blame them - there was a lot of information to take in, and mortals were left with a limited amount of time to do so. This forced them to either soakin as much of what is already known as possible or narrow the focus in which they seek to discover something new. Someone who was immortal had plenty of time to soak in all of the old information while also seeking the new.

"Maybe there is something worth studying, maybe there isn't," she said with a shrug. "These are the things one cannot know until such places have been thoroughly explored. Even in the absence of obvious pieces of history, there may be something of interest deep beneath the surface." Archaeology was, of course, an important part of uncovering history. But even with divining magics that could make the task of looking beneath the surface far easier than it would be otherwise, there was simply a lot of ground to cover. One couldn't expect to make discoveries every day.

However, the words that followed caused her to forget about what secrets her surroundings may hold for the moment. A failed experiment? Someone built to be a god? And now he wants to destroy them. Now here was something interesting. "On the contrary, I would find one whose goal is to destroy gods to be quite noteworthy, especially if he were to succeed." Her tone failed to hide just how much her interest had been piqued; it might almost sound like she wanted him to start killing gods. This wasn't entirely true, though; Charlotte could see the value of gods to mortal societies. However, a murderer of gods was truly a rare thing; rarer still was the idea of one that might actually find some success. To her, the appeal here was the possibility of getting in on the ground floor of a historically significant event.

But she was getting ahead of herself. There were more questions to be asked.

"So tell me, who was it that craved power so much that they would attempt to create a god?"

[Anonymous]

She seemed impossibly normal. After all, she was just a historian on a leisurely educational stroll, right?

Something told him that was the wrong assumption to make, but something else told him that he really shouldn't be giving the faintest of a damn. Why bother? Even if there was some darker part to her – as he felt that there was – who cared? She wasn't bothering him or anything – on the contrary, she seemed interested in him. No, not like that, but about his origins, like he was something intriguing, something to be studied. Granted, Deusmech had technically treated him the same way, hadn't they? The bastards had left him floating in a containment chamber for nine months, and then ran a plethora of invasive and probably illegal tests before finally calling him a god.

This woman – it was easy to tell that she was an intellectual, considering her the fact that her first statement went in one ear and out the other. She had said something about – ah, history or something, how you should explore places because you never knew what was there, or something. Well, that was the gist of it, anyway. Vestige was never the sharpest knife in the drawer when it came to things like this, and he was even worse at pretending he knew what was going on, so he didn't even bother – not out of rudeness, but sheer laziness, which could be easily interchanged.

It was almost a little strange, how willing she was to keep the conversation on him, but Vestige was too much of an egotist to really care. One might stop and examine the situation at hand – that this historian (who travelled through forests and not libraries to seek information) was willing to stop her travels just to hear about him – but Vestige wasn't someone who analyzed anything too deeply, except when it came to gods. And sure, there was that strange dark aura surrounding her, but how could he stop to inquire when she had hit his weakness – talking about himself?

"If I were to succeed?" Vestige echoed, and smirked, like the cocky 'god' he was. "You can already consider it done. It's just hunting them down that's a pain in the ass..." He stopped to scratch the back of his neck, shaking his head bitterly – he hadn't found a god in months. It was almost a little problematic, and a situation he was trying to rectify, but it was so easy to get distracted around here.

"So tell me, who was it that craved power so much that they would attempt to create a god?"

"Deusmech."

He spit out their name like a hot coal that had been sitting in his mouth. Forget secrecy, forget being found by the Heiress, it felt good to actually say their name aloud, and with such contempt, the same way a princess might talk about manure. "Deusmech –a group of fearless bastards who thought they could bring their world back to life – after screwing it up beyond belief – by creating a god. They thought, if they could control me, they could control their world. But, obviously, the task was too big for them to handle." He stuck his hands in the pockets of his black, ripped pants, looking up toward the sky.

"They're lookin' for me, though. In fact, I probably just endangered your life, by telling you that." He said it as if he had just realized it, the way someone might mention casually that they forgot to do their homework.

Despite that, he grinned, tilted his head to the side, and wondered, "But you can probably take care of yourself, can't you?"

That dark aura, he thought, meant power. And Deusmech's puny sentinels probably couldn't catch her. That is, if she was what he thought she was – something of dark power. Not necessarily dark intent, but power. It would be interesting, if she turned out to not be human after all, but would she admit to, or even hint to being anything else?

[Anonymous]

((Sorry about the long delay. Those should be at an end now.))

Vestige seemed content talking about himself. Charlotte counted herself lucky in this regard, although if he was intent on killing gods it seemed likely that he would be more tolerant toward the presence of demons than most. Especially if said demon showed no malicious intent. She enjoyed his confidence - it was a testament either to how much power he had actually been given, or at least to how highly he thought of himself.

Deusmech was another word that would need to go into her records. This was the first she'd heard of them. So they sought to create a god? Charlotte couldn't tell whose hubris was bigger - the organization that attempted to create a god, or the result of their efforts who sought to kill other gods. In either case this was unlike anything else she had recorded to date, and that made it particularly interesting.

"How fascinating. So they are not of this world? They must be a powerful organization to have destroyed their world and then believe that they could create a god to save it." The demon tapped her chin idly as she turned this over in her mind. Immediately she wanted to know more about them. However, Vestige spoke of danger simply from mentioning their name. So they could track things like that?

Of course, Charlotte was confident in her own ability to defend herself. While she usually preferred to avoid confrontation, sometimes it was inevitable - whether fending off the occasional overzealous wildlife or supernatural creature, or righteous-minded mortals looking to rid the world of another demon, or even other demons who don't exactly have the best track record of playing nice even with their own kind, Charlotte was well-versed in fending for herself. In fact it might be interesting to see what these people could throw at her.

A faint smile crossed her face as the man suggested she could take care of herself. Could he sense her power? Of course that made some sense. There was plenty of it, after all, and he was a god - or at least, something god-adjacent. Maybe he could already tell what she was, but if that was the case he certainly didn't seem bothered by it. Then again, he didn't seem like the subtle type; if he thought she was a demon, he either would have said so already, or probably would soon.

"I can handle myself, yes," she said casually.

[Anonymous]

[ Haha, don't worry about it! ]

"Powerful, yeah," he agreed with a shrug. He reached one arm out behind his back, holding back his elbow, stretching his arm. He stretched a lot when idle, when anxious. "Powerfully stupid. They're full of potential, but they have no restraint." He let go of the stretch, switching arms. Preparing. "They're like kids – cruel, heartless bastards. They're the type of people that would throw a cat off a cliff, just to see if it can fly."

He placed one leg in front of him, keeping the other in the back, and pressed down on his knee, stretching. He looked up at her as he did so, and caught her faint smile, and already knew the answer she'd give. She was smart – she wouldn't come out and say it, or would she? Vestige had no clue, but that was what made meeting other people exciting, wasn't it? Eventually, casually, she did admit that she could handle herself, and Vestige laughed a little, shaking his head. He switched up his legs for the stretch, shaking his head.

 "You're a demon, aren't you?" he eventually asked, standing upright. He pulled one arm in front of him, used the other arm to press it towards his chest, stretching, but still paying attention to her. It wasn't really a question, because Vestige didn't ask questions. He was just affirming his own beliefs in the form of a question, really. "Am I right?" It still wasn't really a question, just him, teasing a little.

The godslayer switched up his arms for the stretch, anticipating. "There's a large aura surrounding you. It's dark, but not necessarily malevolent. It's an interesting aura, for a demon, anyway."

Finally, Vestige let the stretch go. He was silent for a moment, before looking up at her again, grinning. "You sure you could hold your own – against them, that is?" he asked again, now standing akimbo. He took a few deep breaths, prepared, ready.

"Because they're coming, you know. Deusmech troops, that is."

He let that sink in, before continuing on. "They'll be here in forty two hours."

All stretched, all prepared, Vestige wondered how she would take it. It had been a while since he had uttered it, the name Deusmech, that is, and he had been so ready to, so willing to lead them here, to him. He was crazy, to drag a stranger into this, but hell, maybe she'd want to get involved – for science?

"There's time to run, if you want," he offered, studying her, grinning a little. "But hey, who knows what you could learn from this, huh?" Okay, he was poking fun at her a little, but hell, what life without a little humor, even when he had just endangered this stranger? Vestige's motto was simple: live, laugh, and fight, like it was your last day on earth.

[Anonymous]

((Whoops, and here I said the delays would end.))

Full of potential, with no restraint. This wasn't the first time Charlotte heard of such people, although the destruction of a world and attempted creation of a god were certainly new territory. Her curiosity was piqued, but it seemed likely that they wouldn't be the type to sit down for a nice discussion. Not while their experiment was still on the loose, anyway - and especially not with someone who has met him and not turned him in. But Charlotte didn't make a habit of betraying potential sources of information, or getting on the bad side of beings with god-like power.

Besides, from the way the man spoke it sounded as if she was already marked for death.

She found it curious that Vestige was stretching, as if expecting something. From the way he spoke, it seemed that these Deusmech people already knew where they were. Could they detect the mere mention of their name? That seemed like god-like power in and of itself. Clearly when investigating this matter, caution would be most prudent.

Then came the question that caused Charlotte to pause. "What makes you say that?" she asked as she only smiled. It seemed that her guess from before was correct, and in fact he went on to say so himself. He could feel her power, just as she could feel his. She noted, though, that the question came with no hostility. It may not have really been a question, but it wasn't an accusation, either.

"Well, I suppose there's no sense in hiding it anymore, is there?" As she stood with her arms casually crossed, her body would undergo a sudden change: she grew a few inches taller, her flesh and hair turning a more reddish shade. Her feet, including the boots she wore, melted into a pair of hooves, while a tail grew from just below her waistline, horns like a ram's grew from her temples and curled around the sides of her head, and a large pair of wings grew from her back. Her face looked more youthful than it had before, set with pupil-less eyes. Her clothing remained the same for the moment, except that it grew to match her new proportions. "Yes, I am a demon. But you don't seem to be bothered by that, are you?"

"I don't normally make a habit of interfering," she continued. "But I will not retreat if they come looking for a fight, either. Not when there is more to learn." She still spoke casually, although she would begin giving her own arms a bit of a stretch. It had been a while since she last fought. "Although I do have one more question to ask, as long as they won't be here for a while. How do they know that we are here?"

[Anonymous]

He was right – she was a demon, although Vestige was rarely ever wrong about things.

"Me? Bothered? Hell no," he assured, and grinned, mischievous. "You look way better as a demon anyway." She looked more youthful in this form, more exotic – and he wondered, hell, why not walk around looking like that all the time? Ah, but she was a historian – it probably would freak out her fellow scholars if a demon suddenly strolled in on their meetings. Now that he had seen her true form, it was a little amusing to think about – a demon, studying history. Power to her, though – Vestige used to be able to sit down and read texts, back on his homeworld, where he had been revered as a god, but now? Man, you couldn't get Vestige to read a book if you paid him.

He had never thought about it before, but as a "god", he probably should've been bothered by the existence of demons. Their species tormented humans, didn't they, and sucked out their souls? Granted, on Vestige's travels, he had learned that gods – the tyrants of the human race – could be more of a nuisance than demons, in some aspects.
Plus, there were plenty guilds around the world that hunted demons – not so many who hunted gods.

And while he was thinking about it, Charlotte didn't seem like the 'suck your soul' type of demon anyway – hell, she studied humans, so he couldn't see her ever harming them. At this point, though, Vestige thought he wouldn't have minded even if she was the malevolent type of demon – she was interesting to be around, and plus, he had dragged her into this fight with Deusmech. They were partners, for now.
 
"Good to hear you're not backing down," Vestige noted, grinning. He knew she'd stay, there was so much to learn, after all. "We don't have to slaughter all of them – maybe we can capture some for you to question. You know, for science." Deusmech was like a cage filled with canaries – he was sure that they would squeal, if they pushed the right buttons.

She asked how they knew we were here, and Vestige rubbed his throat idly, out of habit. "The word 'Deusmech' is a magical term – every time someone, anyone, says it, they are able to hone in on the origin of the word. Who said it, where they are, what world they're on. Granted, there's no reason for anyone but myself to say it, but I'm sure there have been times where they've had false alarms." It was, however, the first time he had said it on this world – but he had said it so many damn times already that they'd be sure it was Vestige.  "Sure, it's probably easier to refer to them as 'you-know-who,' or not even speak of them at all, but hell! It wouldn't be fun, if I did."

He had said it, knowing they would come, all because he wanted to test them – to see if they really would come running. He knew they would, he could almost feel their presence, looming over his head.

Vestige cast his onyx eyes around the forest, as if expecting them to fall out of the sky any moment. "La'marri's not too far from here – I've got a place there where we can crash while we wait for the bastards. Plus, I doubt spending forty two hours in a forest is your idea of a good time." He laughed a little at that – he had spent far longer in these woods before, tracking down godly auras. "How fast can you fly with those wings of yours, anyway?" Vestige himself couldn't fly, but his Godspeed more than took care of that.