Post by Deleted on Jul 5, 2022 14:34:13 GMT -5
It was a curious name indeed, often a time in the past she wondered why it was given to her at all. It is not too unlike my own, after all. She could hear her grandfather even now, falling victim to his habit of storytelling, regaling tales about their ancestors and what names belonged and meant to each of them. The foolish old man would have enough secrets and treasures to keep even the ever-thirstful Usumi sated for a time. Though such keepsakes were revealed destroyed during the purge of Solus’ work, and there remained no traces of these dark whispers anywhere that Celeste might recall. All of it was better off forgotten, even the man responsible.
The name in the table would eventually become weathered and phase out of the wood, leaving a blackened smudge where it had been. It was little wonder it found no recognition on the hunter’s ears, having not been a demon’s name to begin with. The witch spoke true, it was indeed her name, just not the one which Usumi possibly sought so direly. The lick of the lips upon reading it gave all the proof Celeste needed to ascertain the prince’s agenda. Well, he had what he wanted, now didn’t he?
That didn’t go without saying there was probably more to it. A name was only so good as the intricacies tied upon the life it was marked, and that was most likely what the demon sought of this pursuit. The people she possibly cared about; the places potentially dear to her heart; treasures that any usual earthling may suffer greatly for any harm brought to them. Fortunate it was that Celeste already had all of these things taken from her. Perhaps that’s why she felt little concern of this albatross knowing a name she herself felt a stranger to.
The phantasmic hunter would reveal a name, only for it to be nothing more than a pseudonym, adopted alongside the current vessel. If it was out of convenience or necessity, that remained to be seen, but it would bring another intriguing idea to the witch when considered. She feigned an inspection of her nails until the demon finished, wanting to know more about her intentions and the sort. Celeste offered a hum, as if the answer itself wasn’t as obvious as the very name that spilled from the vessel’s lips.
“My, you are perceptive, aren’t you?” she would offer rather curtly, almost annoyed. Celeste chuckled quietly to herself with a shake of her head. The gods had done nothing to spare humanity in this lifetime – nothing but abandoning it to hapless fools with more power than they could fathom what to do with. In truth, the gods were as ineffective as they were selfish. It was best to hate them, and how Celeste did. Still, that wasn’t something to mention in polite conversation. She didn’t want to think of what such existential knowledge might do here. The hopelessness of it all was certain to drive some mad.
”It’s true that I’m nothing but a wanderer – an impatient traveler carried by the waves of conflict and intrigue.” She returned to her seat, leaning back in her chair with her legs half-crossed and eyes raised to the ceiling. “Wandering and learning,” she mused. “I’ve found there’s very little to learn there. It’s become dreadfully boring. Too many ordinary people living ordinary lives under the thumb of an equally ordinary regime. How droll!” What was she to do with her time when she had neither plots nor schemes? For too long she’d been driven by revenge alone, but why did she continue now except for petty spite and her lack of real choice in the matter? Was this to be her true and final hell, lingering forever in the company of the uninteresting and uninterested? She shuddered to think.
”But there is hope, isn’t there?” Her eyes fell to meet the demon, a faint smile at her lips. ”Not everyone is so unremarkable. Every now and again, there’s one who’s…different.” Celeste raised her cup in cheers before drinking again. It slid down her throat like the sweetest of acids. ”I’m looking for someone, actually. I can’t say for certain that they live, and yet…” Celeste trailed off wistfully. Her fingers tightened on the loop of the porcelain. ”I feel that they might.”
The witch sighed before returning her attention to Usumi, brows raised in interest. ”And what of you?” she asked, eyeing the vessel curiously. ”You must have goals of your own.”TWC: 4,237