Quest Dead Men Do Tell Tales (Ana)

[Balderdash]

In a way, Ana's coldness hurt Sin more than any sword could. All of that delicious, delicious hate... Just beneath such a thin veneer... It was like holding candy just out of a baby's reach. "Why must you be so difficult..." he snarled, "Come on... You're not fooling anyone. Hate me. Stab me. Strike me!" In his face Ana noticed just a hint of desperation... Her desperation. While she could challenge him as she pleased, just as she could not touch him, so he could not touch her. They were of different stuff. Ethereal and corporeal. Flesh and steel would never touch Sinvelt, and Sinvelt would never touch flesh and steel. So all he could do was beg, impotently, for her anger. For her passion. For her hate. Any emotion at all. But he received none, and soon Ana's sword was unnecessary. She would notice first, a flash of light and a distant crackle that quickly grew louder, before a fireball the size of a human fist blasted a hole in Sin's shoulder. Literally, a hole. There was no mangled flesh, nor broken or scorched bone. Only a void where his shoulder used to be, as if someone had cut at a piece of featureless black putty with scissors. Sin cried out, face contorting in pain, and turned to face the source. A trio of monks had filled the entrance to the alleyway closest to him. All three had their hoods pulled up, and their sleeves together in front of their chests. If Ana cared to look behind her, she would see that three others from her side had cut off the other avenue of escape. From both ends of the alley came a low, wordless chant. A brief sound akin to an open mouthed hum, with a tick's silence between them. It was eerie, how a simple shift in the hood could transform the figures. What could best be described as well-equipped ruffians in robes when their hoods were down were almost a world apart from what was advancing upon Sinvelt. Those were fiery, aggressive thugs. These monks, however, moved with cold, ruthless efficiency. They stepped forward as one, almost gliding on the cobblestone. Sinvelt hunched and looked about in staccato twitches like a cornered cat, before his eyes fell on Ana. "... Sister. Save me." The monks were getting closer. "Don't you remember all those good times we had?" he gabbled, a terrified grin on his face. "You wouldn't let them kill me." The silence between the chants was getting shorter now, more in line with a human heartbeat. The smile melted from Sinvelt's face, to be replaced with the despair of a creature in its last moments. "Not me. Not your flesh and blood..." Something. Anything to protect himself. The monks' sleeves parted, revealing a glowing green nimbus of Res the size of a fist floating between their hands. Another step, and each sphere burst into flame. If Ana didn't act immediately, the obvious would follow. He would be incinerated. Sinvelt's lower lip twitched. "Ana... Please..."

[Ana Sol Starris]

"I will NOT hate you" Ana snapped at him, her frustration showing visibly now- regarding his desperation with a type of pity. What had pulled Sinvelt down so terribly like this? What had she done that made him restless.. It wasn't like she wasn't trying to live up to his former expectations when he had been alive, or the subliminal ones that had been placed into the journal he wrote for her so many years ago. Ana had become a thief, had she not? Disgust riddled her face as she sheathed the shortsword, he wasn't coming at her, and she certainly wouldn't try to stab him after being begged to. It just wasn't going to happen, she would only be giving into what he wanted- and the way Sinvelt was acting right now, she didn't want to fulfill those types of demands. It was as if he was having a childish temper tantrum "look.." Taking a deep breath before trying to continue the sentence... She didn't get much of a chance to do so as something akin to a glow of light from afar away appeared. Ears pulling back much like an animals straining to hear the sound which felt like danger, slight in tone, but thunderous as it grew closer- a fireball had been flung at her brother. Was she in the way? IF she was she quickly jittered to the side to avoid being taken with the fireball as well, it didn't look like an arrow on fire, nor could it have been the size of one. The only logical answer Ana could pull up from the dredges of her memory was reimancy, the same type of magic her brother had used in life, had trusted her with the knowledge of as a small child.. Ana didn't know much about it, besides the general meaning of it besides that his element was used against him. "Holy shyke" Ana muttered under her breath as she pulled her gaze away from the hole in his shoulder, like paper being torn off the larger body, there was nothing in where his body should have been. Following where the fireball had come from she spotted three monks with their hoods up, and from behind she could hear a chant, one growing steadily louder as the three got closer, and three more would come from the back. It was an eery setting, it froze her in her spot where she stood and could feel her heartbeat quicken as they soundlessly stepped towards their target- Sinvelt. His voice cut into her, making her look at the pitiful form on the ground now, her angst evident as he had struck a chord. What was she suppose to do? Honestly, she was one girl with little experience that chose avoidance over immediate conflict. Gritting her teeth, she could feel a tug in her chest towards him, his begging earlier had only hardened her to him but now with the fear in his voice. The true need for help, it was like that one night all over again except he had wordlessly expressed his need for her to get out of the room, it had been that one look that killed him... He displayed the same look. Off went the head of her brother, a slice from a mighty longswords stroke to his neck, and dropped Sinvelts body to the ground spurting out his red life force. Blood gleamed along the blade as her father stared down at her brothers still warm corpse, glancing up to the door that had been cracked open. Ana's eyes watered, what kind of sister had she been? Letting the curiousity get the better of her, before she had always followed his commands without question... Just like that night, and the night at present, her body remained frozen in terror at what was going to happen. Images of their good times together passed by, the hope that one day she wouldn't have to live in fear, wouldn't have to stay in that petching household she had formerly called a home... Had hoped that her brothers promises would have remained true, that he would take her away, and they would read together everyday. They would plot and scheme to steal mothers once every third of a season's cookies, but except, instead of scheming to steal cookies they would have plotted to take riches beyond imagination. There would be only happy times, with none of the bad, but that wasn't how life worked- no, not at all. But she'd be damned if she didn't make up for her mistakes now- she had done too many to let this slip! Upon hearing 'please' she broke into a sprint, kicking off the chains of fear latched onto her ankles, broke them and let them slither away back into the dark where they belonged to be. Towards the six monks slowly surrounding her brother, she shouted out her protest, snarling "NO!!" Running to be in front of him hopefully in time, she would jump the last few cycles of her legs to cover him and protect him from the blast if there was, holding her arms and hands straight out to signal 'stop' whilst cringing as she fully expected them to do it and she would become nothing more than a crispy ashened corpse. Not even bones would be left for the crows to pick at like vultures, she could only hope they would pause long enough to hear her out. She loved her brother... She knew that he was a ghost, but... she couldn't let this happen. Couldn't. While knowing full well she could have stopped it and the way the monks were going about this was inhumane- even for a ghost. This was her older brother for Dira's sake! "Please" She begged to them, desperate now, herself. Perhaps this was also how fools died.

[Balderdash]

Ana saw the fireballs approaching, felt the heat crisp her skin, and then... Nothing. They had stopped. All of them. Somewhere farther down the alley, Ana could hear a woman shouting "Stop! STOP! That's my guest!" Vysia had come downstairs, and was currently worming her way between two monks and making a beeline for Ana. "Are you mad, girl?!" she demanded as she limped urgently to the thief. "Do you even know what you're diving in front of?" At this, Sinvelt started to squirm uncomfortably. "It's not human, I'll tell you that much." "Don't listen to her, Ana!" barked the girl's brother. "She just wants you to step away so they can murder me!" "Exterminate you, yes." replied Vysia. "Pests can't be murdered." The monk bent down to Ana's eye level, her brow furrowed. "Listen to me, Ana. That's not who you think it is. It's a shapeshifter. It turns itself into whatever hurts you most, waits for you to spill your guts out, then feeds on them. You understand? Now let us do our job..."

[Ana Sol Starris]

Her attempt to save her brother had been all folly, suicidal, she was not fully prepared to die and feared the inferno which came. The burn engulfed her, and made the summer air heat up, and then stopped, leaving a coolness around her body, just like that the fire had dissapeared. Ana, who had her eyes closed for the event opened them in disbelief, awe, looking around herself at the figures in their most menacing hoods. Vysia was barking, as usual, hobbling to the confused thief. Ana couldn't reply, couldn't speak, even if the inspiration had hit her. My brother.. Ana whispered internally, throat closing, shoulders beginning to shake. Death had almost reigned over her.. Yet again. Perhaps things would have gone better for the fake Sinvelt if he hadn't decided to speak; with a slump of her shoulders, she looked between Vysia and Sin. The inner turmoil evident, but a thought had occurred.. Why was Sinvelt using her fake identity? The detail hadn't popped up before because she had been too blinded with a desire to believe that he was alive, because she had missed him. What with the fall out many a fortnight ago, she had been slowly craving interaction with some one she looked up to, wanted to be, or to gain that person's approval and recognition. "No.. I don't understand Vysia.." it was a mutter as she turned to Sin, sad, she had to trust in her memory that Sinvelt was dead.. She had to trust that her brother wouldn't have so easily stooped to a level that used other people. For Sinvelt was perfect in Ana's eyes, and the Sinvelt in front of her, was most certainly not. There were flaws she had dismissed, certain mannerisms.. Points. "But I must hear it for myself.." she leered down at him, Ana had to know if he knew "Sinvelt, if you are truely my one and only older brother.. Then what is my real name? This whole time you have been calling me Ana.." she stayed where she was "if you answer wrong, then I will step away and let the monks blast you to Dira.. Send her my regards." It was a name forsaken, a name that held many naive qaulities to it.. It had been dropped after a moment of harsh deceit, many years ago. Said event had been a catalyst, it had made her who she currently was. Ana.