Chaos is known as the being that never became a star. It is everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time.
Neither good nor evil, the ultimate expression of nothingness. The antithesis of the cosmos, creation itself.
Although Chaos claims to be the very state of existence from which the first entities appeared, it cannot form into the entity it wants most.
So it has been cursed to stay in the form of a dark and shapeless void. Floating between existence and nonexistence.
Longingly watching as stars are constantly born and lives are lived. The seeds of malice had been planted, flourished and transformed Chaos into the purest form of evil.
Just another day of wandering about, enjoying the sights and sounds of New Paris, despite being aware of the darkness hidden behind that beauty. The red-haired local was, as per daily routine, taking his afternoon walk, basking in the city Sun. Weaving through the crowd with relative ease, this was something Marius often did whenever he found himself facing a mundane day. When there was no work to he found anywhere, neither the docks nor the factories, he'd take the day to recuperate. Besides, he needed it too, he knew. It had been two days, and his shoulder was still sore from the cage fight he won two nights back. That, and the bruise on his cheek hadn't healed either, hidden behind a taped bandage he wore over the mark.
His crimson mane was slicked back as always, with two distinct rebellious streaks running down the front, over his face. Sharp hazel eyes peered casually forward, registering faces as he allowed himself to wonder about their lives and their experiences. He wondered if they knew of things like he did. How this world wasn't really how they perceived it to be. And the hidden war fought in the shadows of the city's streets. That monsters existed, crawling and lurking in dark corners. And how people like Marius existed, blessed - or cursed - with power that defied the very laws of physics, of reality.
In a way, Marius envied them. They could live on their lives in ignorance, never having to fear what they did not know, and never having to suffer being involved in this war. Marius himself knew not what he was supposed to do either. He was no hero, nor was he a soldier. Though he had taken on a monster or two, from time to time, it had only been out of self-defense. And none of them were ever pleasant memories, no. He sighed, coming to a halt as he reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out a cigarette box. Popping one of its contents between his lips, he pocketed the box and began to pat his jacket down, only to realize that he had forgotten to bring his lighter along.
He frowned. Great. It wouldn't normally have been a problem, what with the abilities that he had been born with, but conjuring a fire in the middle of public like this was simply asking for unwanted attention. What was he supposed to do now?
[attr="class","infoNotes"]kinda half-assed but it is how it is
[attr="class","crashLyrics"]There's another mind deep in me[break]Don't know what's gotten into me
[attr="class","crashBody"]
"Ouais je sais! (Yeah, I know!)" Zelda yelled at the employee kicking her out of a coffee shop. She exited with cigarette in mouth and an annoyed look on her face. Her french was pretty rusty but it didn't take a genius to know why there was a french woman kicking her out of her shop; smoking seemed to be the issue. No amount of signs would notify Zelda that the place was a no smoking area, not like they would matter much since she couldn't read much French anyways. She stumbled her way onto the sidewalk in front of the place, shaking her fist at the woman who was just standing there, looking disappointed at Zelda before turning and walking back into her coffee shop.[break][break]
So now Zelda finds herself among the masses. That's something she liked about Paris opposed to back home: people here mind their business. Back in the shitty country of New Zealand, you couldn't leave to get milk without having at least 10 other people try to barge their way into your life. Maybe they were trying to be friendly, but to Zelda they were just plain annoying, just like that woman who just chased her out of her shop.
After this whole conflict, Zelda began to wander. There wasn't anywhere she particularly needed to be, since she was an artist there wasn't really a job that was tying her schedule down to a set amount of hours. On her pointless travels she took in the environment around her. She's been here for a while but every time she takes a look at Vaugirard, the art always impresses her. One day she hopes to make this entire area her canvas.[break][break]
Being caught up in her own little world, Zelda didn't notice the bright red-haired man who she just walked into. The collision had knocked her back a foot and left a red spot on her forehead. "Ah, shit!" She put her hand to her forehead, rubbing a nice bright red spot that formed. "Are you alright?" Honestly, she could care less about who she just walked into, she was too busy tending to herself at the moment.
"Ah," was the only word that came from Marius' lips as he felt an impact descend upon his back. His eyes widened, his lips parting even wider as he stared at his nicotine stick fall upon the ground. Instincts kicked in, and his right hand swung inwards, as he attempted to catch it, but to no avail. The paper cylinder simply bounced off his index finger, flipping in the air, as if taunting him. His left hand came in this time round, yet he was once again too slow to find a proper grip upon his addiction. And though it made no sound, the impact rung through Marius' ears like a sharp bell, causing his entire body to flinch in agony. Money was already hard to come by, and he had been made to waste a portion of it - though small - because someone hadn't been looking where they were going.
Her voice pierced through the air between them, slithering into his ear, reminding him of the cause behind the minor incident, and he frowned deeply. Straightening himself, he stared down at his fallen comrade, a hypothetical tear rolling down his cheek. Slowly, his chin stretched towards his shoulder, golden eyes peering back to come upon the annoyance.
"You just made me waste--" he snapped, initially, only to cut himself off as his eyes finally fully registered the being before him. A long-haired woman, with a beauty akin to that of a rose. In a rose bush. With all of its thorns, prickly and sharp. He blinked. There was something else, though. A sense of odd familiarity that emitted from her person. A sense of... Rivalry. What was this? He hadn't experienced this sensation before. He had been through his fair share of bouts, and feuds, especially in the ring, yet this one felt more... In-depth.
"... My cigarette," he continued, though with lesser hostility as he had before. He turned on the heels of his low-cut boots, as he narrowed his eyes focusing in on her, piqued by the odd sensation her presence brought to his senses. He tilted his head. "Have we met?" he inquired, blunt in tone and manner, as he focused his gaze in on her face.
[attr="class","crashLyrics"]There's another mind deep in me[break]Don't know what's gotten into me
[attr="class","crashBody"]
She heard him talk, but she was only half listening.[break][break] By now Zelda had also dropped her cigarette, its short life being ended by the trampling feet around them. "Shit." Her attention shifted to the guy who she just walked into and just... wow. He wasn't bad looking, but there was something about him that she kinda hated. Like, his face was of the punchable variety if you get what she felt. Normally she would tell him this straight up but she wasn't really in any position to insult the guy after colliding with him.[break][break] "I think I would know if I had a friend with bright red hair. Also, sorry about your cig mate-" She caught herself. Her New Zealand side was showing itself again, something that she was more embarrassed of than ashamed. It was odd because an Australian-like accent in French is probably the worst sounding language known to humanity. "Ah, yeah. You've probably seen me around though, I'm a street artist so people walk by me all the time when I'm at work." Zelda reach into the pocket of her black leather jacket and pulled out her box of cigarettes, popping one in her mouth and offering one to the red haired man. "So uh, sorry about that. The name's Zelda by the way, if that rings any bells for you. Also, how are you with keeping secrets?"[break][break] Before he had a chance to respond, Zelda snapped her fingers and the entirety of her right hand caught fire. She put it up to her cigarette, lighting it, and extends it to him. "Hurry up, before people start noticing." Her abilities were somewhat odd but Zelda didn't really care how people would react to her catching fire. In France it's surprisingly easy to play off the whole as a medical disease or something bizarre, so not like it was that much of a problem.[break]
It was honestly hard for Marius to focus in on that accent of hers - fortunately for her - with his entire attention finding itself drawn towards that sense of concerning familiarity he was receiving from her. He could tell damn well that he had never seen her before. He may not be as educated as most people here, but that did not mean that his brain worked any less than theirs did. And he certainly had a knack for remembering faces. He would have remembered hers, for sure. Yet, try as he may, nothing in his memory placed sense in this nagging gut feeling he was experiencing, and he found himself focusing in on her more than he would have normally. Forget his cigarette. Marius was finding that fire inside of him start to flare up, as if someone was sprinkling fuel into it teasingly.
She would attempt to explain her familiarity. A street artist, huh? As true as her claim may have been, it put not a single ounce of Marius' suspicions to rest, and he found himself determined more than before on finding out just who she really was. Though, abrasive as he was, he knew how awkward and discomforting it would be for him to ask straight out, and he allowed the conversation to flow naturally at its own pace. "Huh," he replied. Yes, he is trying.
Whatever the case, it seemed that he too had earned her full attention, as she revealed her pack of cigarettes and offered one to him. Clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, and remove whatever telltale signs of concern and hostility there was on his facial expressions, he glanced down. Reaching forward, he pinched the cigarette from her fingers, and held it idly between his hands. Even if he had been compensated for the lost cancer stick, he was still faced with the same issue from before. Then came the odd question. Secrets.
And that was when she revealed it, answering the questions that had been haunting him, yet birthing new ones in its wake. His eyes widened as her hand caught fire, and almost immediately, he reacted. He reached up with his free hand, grabbing hold of her wrist and pulling it downwards, while turning his body away from the crowd to hide it from view. He furrowed his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of shock and awe. He had known that he wasn't the only one that was 'gifted', yet to find another one just like him was unexpected. "Wait, wow, are you crazy?" he hissed. "What if someone sees?"
He glanced over his shoulder, and failed to spot any curious glances towards their direction. At the very least, he was relieved that none had noticed that odd display of flame. Natural disease or whatever, being able to engulf one's self in fire and not be harmed by it was anything from normal or, well, natural. "... You too, huh?"
The skin LIGHTS OFF was made by JAWN of WICKED WONDERLAND.
HALATION was created by KOJIHIME. Images belong to their respective artists. All codes and scripts belong to their respective coders. Please DO NOT take anything without the owners' permission.
