Quiet Night....(Talbot)

[Varys]

The night, the loving empty quiet night. Even in the bustling city there were places that were quiet and empty and easy to transverse. What a pleasant night it was as well. Somehow even the Nightmares dimmen their infernal voices to let Varys rest slightly. The odd man walked quietly and with practiced ease, to walk while other's slept was a habit. Sometimes he even liked to stand over others as they slept, watching them and wondering their dreams. It seemed appropriate for a man that drew his power from his horrors.

"So lovingly dark, I might as well have my eyes closed...."

And so it was done, the tall man standing with his eyes closed in the dark. Listening intently to all the sounds. The clack as a can falls from it's trash can. Afew muffled footsteps from various stray and owned animals. And perhaps coming close the sound of afew slow footsteps....

[Talbot Linsorim]

Talbot sighed softly, inhaling the fresh night's depths into worn lungs and tired being. For some reason she had begun to feel old- older than she should have been, closing her eyes for a long moment she enjoyed the continued sensation of the night breeze. Her whitening blond curls bounced as she walked, her scythe pole tapping lightly on the ground as bare feet sought out every groove and distrotment in the street.

She was quiet beyond the soft taping of the scythe end, but her mind was buzzing- teeming and streaming so much information and spells and words. She had changed herself, or someone had for her- someone had helped her find the appropriate path. Alchemy. She could no longer survive as a battle mage- her powers had been less that they had once been before... but before what? What had she been before. This thought haunted her mind and her dreams- dreams she had not visited in nearly three weeks now. She had long cast a spell, kept up with caffiene and herbs- sleep was something she had denied for so long.

She continued to walk, the staff tapping lightly the click hollow and almost void- she paused for not one moment, the signature of a form being recognized. Bllind eyes opened slowly as a hollow voice sounded, though the echo of chimes- an echo of faint and past laughter floated to listening ears, "The moon blesses all whom she touches," and she continued on.

[Varys]

"That's not even proper english, it isn't."

Varys spoke as he peeked around the corner. He eyed the woman and perhaps more importantly the scythe. He eyed it because of the part it often portrayed. It was the favored weapon of the Reaper and the Farmer. One bringing death and the other life. Such an odd duality to a single item.

"My but don't you look ragged..."

Varys grinned slightly as he moved out from around the corner. He wouldn't move closer to the woman yet. Not when she wielded such a weapon she may well be able to use. Instead he would move off her right side, standing with plenty of room to jump back. Just in case of course.

"Why, if we may ask, is that so? Hmmm? Does something haunt your dreams?"

[Talbot Linsorim]

The faintest trace of a smile passed over her pale lips, sightless eyes blinked slowly as his words drifted so casually to her sensitive ears. "My but don't you look ragged..." Her mind buzzed with this sensation- contact- someone- she was ragged? She looked ragged? Her clothes were clean, a few days ago- or was it last week? She knew the days had begun to blend together more and more- slowly, she put her hand in the glass clear bag and put a piece of almost gray candy into her mouth.

She sighed softly, her hand gripping the staff of her scythe roughly as the surge of herbs and caffiene flooded her conciousness and shook her away from sleep once again. Looking up towards the sky, sightless eyes searching for- for what? Stars? Light? Something which would pierce though this incessent blackness which made her heart ache. But what heart- did she have one? She must have with the pain it caused her.

Her voice cooed out a faint answer, "But what is a dream, no more than a jumbled mass of memories..perhaps a true future to come...or more darkness to consume what little light is left."

[Varys]

"Dreams are their own reality."

Varys shot back quickly. Perhaps showing he was too touchy on the subject. Then again, it was his everything. The only thing he could cling to, his only memorable identity. But how disturbed could you be when you took your identity from true nightmares?

"The light blinds too much in anycase...It isn't needed. You lose other sense, other realities, other thoughts, for one foolish idea."

Such was this man's notion of the "light". It caused many to become too focused on one thing. To think that all other's were wrong and in the extreme cases. To Varys, light was Persecution, he would despise it and bring it down. It hardly mattered that he would become just as consumed as them, he was a nightmare in and of himself. He didn't need reason.

[Talbot Linsorim]

She nodded slightly, giving him the respect he deserved within his own opinion- however he seemed not to understand something. Talbot paused, turned slightly, blind eyes looking towards where the voice eminated. Her scythe glistening almost menacingly in the evening hours as her oddly gently voice answered him patiently.

"With day comes night, with light comes dark- without one the other cannot exsist. If one harbors such aggressions against one or the other, there is no hope for much in their heart."

( >.< shortness!!!!!!!!!!!!! )

[Varys]

"So how much light do those dull eyes see then?"

Varys growled back somewhat impatiently. There was never any real need of a balance. The two concepts could exist seperately, they did not need eachother. One day the sun would cease to exist and their would be nothing than night. The night exists seperately and without the need for day ever again.

"The two can exist seperately, both aren't needed. One can be killed just as the other never to be seen again."

Then again, such alignment hardly came in black and white anymore. One man could be so many shades of gray that perhaps neither one existed completely anymore. The night and day lost in eternal dawn and dusk with no imbetween. It was an odd thought, but one that wasn't for him. In Varys there was only a small hope for more darkness and little more.

[Talbot Linsorim]

Sightless lenses closing slowly, as Talbot turned away from the pup. he had taken a strike at her current hinderence. The blade tip of her scythe still facing him, the point gleaming brightly- as if the scythe itself held all the aggressions Talbot once bore. She began walking again, the staff pole tapping as it should as she walked- it sent out a pulse of enegry to attain vision of the surrounding area.

"I have seen much in my past, known great light. I have seen and know a great brillance of light. Though within it I always saw the shadow and dark."

With a dimmed smile, Talbot nodded, as if agreeing with something inside her own sleep denied mind. Another piece of candy slid past her lips, and was pressed against her pallet- the surge of caffiene and herbs giving her the jolt she needed to continue.

"It is sad you see so little potential for the light against your chosen preference of darkness."

[Varys]

"I suppose it should be sad, but I would doubt depression would cause me much hinderance."

Varys began to move with the scythe wielding woman then. As her feet moved so did his, his still working eyes taking in whatever he could actually see. It was likely one of his nightmares had eyes to see, but to call on one would be to hear them all at once. One to gloat while the other two growled angerly.

"You know though, for one that preaches of the light you seem to have moved away from it. Or perhaps some other thing haunts your sleep? Something strong maybe? There are ways to tame such terrors..."\

There was a grin creeping up on his face as he spoke the words. H was the last of his kind supposedly. It would do well to enlarge the group, to teach others...if perhaps more gentlely than Fierasche had done. The torture wouldn't be needed if the person was willing...

[Talbot Linsorim]

Her tone long lost in thought and contemplation as his questioning of her alignment. What had been her alignment? What was her alignment? Had she been of the dark or the light or had she been some where in that gray middle? A hand touched her temple, as if the confusion was becoming a migrane. She sighed, exhaled a small cloud of blackness, it twisted and distorted a single bright green eye glimmering as it faded away. Leaving behind a hand as black as any night, the long fingers curling around just the side of Talbot's neck- though she seemed not to notice, even as the long nails pressed small indents into her flesh.

She swallowed softly, her tone gone and voice seemingly softer, "I do not remember my alignment, but from what I can remember- I have a heavy lineage in the light. Why should I not speak of it? It is, to me, only half of what I am."

[Varys]

"Lineage isn't your choice though...."

Varys spoke thoughtfully, eyeing the shifting shadow carefully, but making sure not to make any fuss over it. He was then very much beginning to question his reality. Was this the strange woman's magic? A dream? A nightmare that would soon send him spiralling into terror? He didn't know anymore, all things blending together in his twisted sleep and crazed conciousness.

"Your alignment is. To not know yourself even so superficially is poor. Still you avoided the question of why you try to stay awake so carefully..."

Varys was trying to be gentler now, perhaps seeing that his earlier harshness was not warranted or needed. But mostly because he wanted to know what the shifting and intangible hand would continue to do. Would it grow into a full being, or be stuck a single hand strangling quietly?

"You also did not answer my small offer... If it is nightmares keeping you awake, I can show a way to tame."

[Talbot Linsorim]

Turning her head slightly to the side, a set of green eyes becoming tangible just over flaxen locks of short hair, a second hand, the nails glimmering softly appeared. They pressed into the flesh of her neck- but she didn't seem to notice beyond the soft intakes of air.

"My alignment requires that of light and dark. In alchemy there must be a blend," slowly she bowed her head, "which is all I am capable of any longer."

She looked to the side, visionless eyes open, her head lifting and exposing her pale throat to him and to the nails which pressed unevenly against it.

[Varys]

"Twice avoiding one question and three times the other. I'm sure they are drilled into your head by now, but why do you not answer?"

Varys asked in a confused and somewhat upset manner. Was he not heard? Did the woman simply refuse to answer? Did she hear them at all or did the black thing gripping her neck keep the words from her? He didn't know but he was intent on finding out.

"Will you answer this time or avoid it some other way?"

[Talbot Linsorim]

Twice avoiding one question and three times the other
Sightless eyes looked near him- almost on him- questions?
...why do you not answer?
Answer questions? What questions? Looking through him, her over tired a caffinated mind seeming to be moving at full speed as the words formed at her fingertips- the essence of his words in shape of murky black letters slowly shifting between gray and midnight- whispers of his own voice disembodied and broken filtered in and out around them.

..ragged? Does..haunt...dreams? Dreams....own reality ..light...dull eyes...see preaches....light...moved away haunts.. sleep..strong... tame..terrors.. stay awake so carefully... small offer...nightmares...way to tame.

The words appeared and faded a small cyclone about them- fading away and into the growing form- long claws pressing deeper against pale flesh, stong arms shaping from deep darkness, shoulders and features of a cheshire grin belonging to one a darkened madman. But Talbot did not move, did not wane, she seemed not to notice even as small beads of crimson life began to flow it ease down the porclin neck she called her own.

"Sleeping is dangerous for those who cast to defend- a heart like mine cannot risk such strain with the power behind such broken willed fingertips," raising her hands, Talbot showed him the deeply colored veins in her hands- showing brilliant shades of blue and crimson through pale flesh- at the top of each finger was a cut symbol- runes of fate. Symbols of alchemy.

The whispers continued around them- ones no one had said- not in the slightest. The voice was dark, consuming, smother and sence numbing. It only took one look to realize the word came from the slowly formed lips of the green eyed, cheshire man, He can't help you. Just a spiteful punk. Turn your back, walk with this darkness now. He can't show you anything. He will not help. Come now. Turn away. Turn away, my little rock-a-bye. We'll go to sleep in the shade of a nice tree. I hear the best deaths are in the outside. Come now. He can't help you. Daddy's Precious Child, time for a lullabye.

But she failed to move, sightless orbs of milky white watching- staring at Varys with such a silent pain and uncertainty. The lining of her eyes filled with the deep blue and crimson but no color seemed to touch the whiteness. She watched him- waited, answering a second question of the continued coaxing of the cheshire teeth, "It is unnatural to try and tame what you cannot and do not own."

[Varys]

"How does one not own their dreams? They are of your making, they reside within your mind. Nightmares are no different, they are mine and I shall hold them for as long as I can."

Varys was truely more enthralled in the harsh answer and the whispers. Still perhaps more upset that she thought he couldn't own and control his nightmares and even his dreams. It was such an infuriating thought to him. Luckily for him there was something easy to shoot back...at her nightmare.

"Seems,however, that you do not own your dreams. No you don't they have a good bit of fun manipulating you though...."

Varys was starting to grin now, taking full notice of the green eyed shadow now and staring at it while leaned in a little. There would be a harsh tint in his voice, like he knew something it didn't yet, and perhaps he did.

"Spitefull punk says you? Do you always have to whisper in her ear such lies, perhaps you whisper little truths in as well. You seemed to miss the one where she could saddle you so easily..."