Post by The Will of the Blades on Jul 19, 2013 0:05:49 GMT -5
23rd of June, 23 CLE.
Raindrops crashed down on the muddy ground. The clouds kept crying for hours as their tears poured all over Ionia. Her watery eyes gazed at the dead village, staring at its skeletons that were never buried, much like the scars that she could never keep sealed. Her light feet carried her through the debris, while stepping on some bones who were laid here and there. Each cracking sound, let out by the bones, released a horrifying echo of pain, as if the deads still screamed in pain, mixing in with the howls of the torrential rain that never stopped its relentless descent on the dead soil.
The Captain could not hold her tears. These screams, these images of little children crying as they watched their parents' blood splatter on their faces, before they met the same fate at the end of the enemy's edge, and joined their parents in the other world. It was too much for her to be able to handle it, and Irelia's pain was easily noticed by her sword, who tried to appease her wounded heart, but alas, the pain was too deep, and only a few things could help her release herself from such pain.... Irelia's knees slowly drowned in the mud while her emerald eyes were caught by a picture, one that was not ravaged by the searing flames or any destruction that harmed the village. Her pale and trembling hands reached out and picked it up, dusting the dark ashes away from the silver frame as she gazed at the picture.
A father, a mother, two girls and a boy, smiling while holding each others' hands. They did not seem to be one of the rich families around the village, judging by the farm attire that the man wore, who bore a mustache above his smiling lips. The little young boy was holding a wooden sword, looking like he was proudly swinging it around for the picture, while his sisters were each wearing lovely azure dresses, each of them standing next to their mother who was sitting down on a wooden chair. She looked quite beautiful with her brown eyes and golden curls that easily stood out on her face along with the smile that was creeping on her lips.
Irelia's delicate finger ran across the frame while her tears washed the rest of the ashes from the glass that separated the picture from her skin. She took a heavy breath and gazed at the horizon who stared back at her menacingly with its dark gaze. Two eyes suddenly came out of nowhere; ghost like bodies began to shape through the air, floating around two feet above the ground. Their pale, glowing eyes slowly opened up and peered at Irelia, but they remained silent, while the Captain lost her voice as her gaze could not leave the mysterious and worrying scene.
They looked oddly similar to the girls that were in the picture under her hand, but their skin was as white as snow and they were wearing black sinister dresses. They carefully approached the young Ionian, giving her the time to gain her senses back before they spoke to her with their ghostly voices- pain and agony echoing out through their tone.
"Irelia... Save us... Our soul... is fading away... Our time is counted... and if our souls are not saved... the afterlife could never welcome us.... bury us... give this village what it deserves... a proper funeral so that... the world... could rest... in peace...."
(( This is an RP of Irelia visiting her home village, I would only allow the presence of characters who'd fit with the story. ))
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on Jul 19, 2013 1:58:30 GMT -5
An empty village filled with remnants of what once was. Even years after the war there were still festering wounds like this on Ionia. Like a dead animal, people who knew better avoided it. He was usually among those who stayed away from the grim reminders that the City-State he served in secret was responsible for his second greatest wound.
In the rain and mud, he followed her. Irelia was an interesting case for him. On one hand, he admired her greatly. She was a hero of the war that stopped the senseless slaughter. On the other hand, she was a person of interest and he needed to keep an eye upon every action she made. No matter how small. The rain fell upon his robes, and slicked off. It never soaked in. He remained dry, unmarked by the tears of Ionia.
She moved through this particular village. It was one of many that few were unable to reach in the aftermath of the war and even then after. Sometimes there was simply no one left to return to the village. Irelia herself could not take it and she dropped to the mud, emotion cut through her defenses like no blade ever could. It was clear to anyone who could look upon this place. The land was screaming. The dead appeared, apparitions of those lost here. Daichi went wide eyed as he observed, hidden from a distance. Even those who died here were bound. The thought pained him, his heart ached and the emotional wounds reopened.
Post by Jonathan Xiang-Lewis on Jul 19, 2013 23:53:05 GMT -5
It had been quite some time since he had last seen something of this kind. It had been a long while since he last saw this It had been 17 years since he had last actually been in the middle of such devastation...
...and yet, to him, as he moved along, he was back in 6 CLE, only a mere 22 years old in age, moving on his way towards the Placidium, only able to look on in absolute horror at what the Noxians did... and promising to deliver justice when he would finally face them.
As if to influence the feelings, he came with exactly what he had with him when he had first returned to Ionia: his outfit, his helmet, even his rifle - the very same one employed 17 years ago - were on is possession that day. While the war had not happened in some decade and a half, seeing the remains of what had happened here almost convinced him that he was still 22, still on his way to the main fight.
His weapon slung over his shoulder, he made sure not to step on any of the remains, not wanting to disturb those who had their lives taken so unwillingly, so prematurely, so unjustly away from them. The way the bones were laid, how some of them seemed to appear to wish for mercy, only returned the nightmares in his mind even more.
What really hit him, however, was the size of some of the bones; they were those of children, people who could only be too innocent for this kind of slaughter... and yet, they, too, were considered as much of a threat as the Captain herself, and were sent off with their parents to whatever place they went to, perhaps to live out their lives as they should have been able to here.
As he found the particular skull of one skeleton, whose body could only be that of a child, he squatted, and putting his hand on it, closed his eyes, and for a fleeting moment he could seemingly see the child's face - a boy, not more than nine, distinct features, his hair a jet black, looking at him all confused. He opened his eyes, and the image stayed there for only a moment, but he was able to say something to the child, who was now clearly in another, better place.
"You are not forgotten, little one. Do not worry."
The statement itself nearly undid the man, who had to use all his willpower to prevent himself from falling into a babbling mess of his own tears. Getting back up, he made his way to the Captain herself, again taking care not to step on any of the remains. He saw that she seemed to be looking with a picture; but seemed to be addressed by some ghostly presence he himself could not see. Looking behind him, he could see her footsteps had inadvertently stepped on some of the bones, leaving a rough dust of debris. Grimacing slightly, he turned to Irelia, and in a quiet tone, spoke to her, perhaps trying to be able to see what she was seeing.
"Miss, it might be good to not step on the bones... and pardon me for interrupting, but is there someone here you are talking to?" Jon asked.
"There's only one thing that I know for sure is true: 'Truth is relative.'" -Jon
"What side you're on isn't of concern to me. What is of concern is that you're hurt, and I need to treat you for it." -Jon
"Contrary to what some believe, violence does not solve everything. In fact, it solves nothing." -Jon
Post by The Will of the Blades on Jul 20, 2013 1:52:21 GMT -5
Irelia's gaze never left the glowing orbs of the ghosts that were coldly staring at her, caught by the mesmerizing light that emanated from them. Her lips were slightly parted as she remained on her knees, still astonished by their presence beside her.
She could feel the torment they were going through, she could feel it piercing her own heart like a mighty sword, going through her chest, ripping her flesh apart like an unforgiving predator who devours his victim. Their voice held a burst of pain, and whenever they spoke a word, a tear rolled down the Captain's cheek as her heart squirmed.
Her sword could hear her screaming internally, it could feel the pain that squeezed her. Despite its attempts to heal her wounded heart, it was not helping her at all, and the cut was only growing bigger and deeper. Her heart was bleeding out, her eyes were flooded by the burning tears, her tongue was wrapped around itself as she tried to speak to them, but not even a sound came out of her lips. Her surrounding was barely audible, the sound of the torrential rain vanished suddenly, overwhelmed by the voice of the two beings.
Regret... the bitter taste of regret took over Irelia as she clenched her fists and slammed the muddy ground with all of her force, letting a couple of brown drops land on her face as it jumped out from the ground. The ghosts has already vanished, they gave their words to Irelia. It was up to her now to figure out how to give this village a proper burial, one that will help its people live in peace for eternity, far from their agony and misery.
A whisper escaped her lips, filled with bitterness and anger, mixed with pain and sadness, holding words that always remained in her heart, but never reached the surface until this day.
"This is all my fault... I was supposed to protect this village but I was not here to save you all... I can not even remember why I was not here. And I feel like a failure for letting you all face such fate..."
Post by Jonathan Xiang-Lewis on Jul 20, 2013 19:44:26 GMT -5
As he saw Irelia not heed him, Jonathan understood the message. Slowly, he backed off, until Irelia's emotions were finally let out; the mud splats staining his trousers, he could only try to imagine how one lost their home village to the horrors of war.
He slowly removed his helmet, holding it in front of him, against his chest - as if to protect his heart from some cruel blow - and hung his head low... this was a moment for Irelia. For her village. For Ionia.
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on Jul 20, 2013 21:31:00 GMT -5
Daichi made himself known and approached. His footsteps were audible as boot trudged across a muddy surface, yet the summoner did not sink nor did he seem to really stay wet. Daichi was prepared for the rain. He bit his lip and his his own distress. He stopped and placed a hand upon the Will of the Blades' shoulder. He noticed the other man, he saw him briefly at the Placidium days ago but otherwise did not know him. He looked like a soldier.
"You saw them too..." His voice was concerned though he resisted the urge to tremble. "Irelia... we should bury them. We should do something for them. Come on, I feel knee knocked too but I need you to stand. Otherwise the dead won't be able to rest."
Post by The Will of the Blades on Jul 24, 2013 7:39:09 GMT -5
The violence of the downpour slowly faded away, letting an unsettling silence reign over the village. The skies remained dark and threatening, the rumbling thunder broke the silence as it announced the arrival of a new and heavy storm. Irelia's eyes never broke the bond they have formed with the picture, but her ears listened to what Daichi had to say.
She carefully picked up the frame and stood back up on her knees, watching the brown liquid drool down her knees and legs as she set to the side her silver hair that was obscuring her vision. Her emerald eyes gazed at Daichi then back at Jon and vice versa. Although she wanted to spend her time alone here, their presence somehow helped her and appeased her for a bit. But Daichi's input on giving them a proper burial differed from what Irelia had in mind... What she had went beyond that, it held the blazing flames of vengeance, she was planning for the redemption of Ionia from Noxus.
"These people don't want a funeral, they want something that goes beyond what you can imagine. They have been killed, murdered, slaughtered, tortured. Their lives have been stripped away from their hands and they know that they won't be the last who'll face such fate."
She briefly looked away from both men, staring at the corpses, bones and what was left of her beloved village before turning her gaze back at them and spoke with a tone spiked with hate and anger.
"They want revenge for what has been done to them."
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on Jul 27, 2013 19:59:05 GMT -5
"Doing what Noxus did to us, to them will not fix anything. It will only perpetuate the cycle of violence until there is nothing left but corpses on both sides. Darkwill is dead." Daichi tried to make a point, not because of his own agenda but for Ionia, Irelia's and these spirit's sake.
"Don't let your own hate mistake what they want. These corpses have been forgotten. Their remains litter in this place." Daichi knew well of Irelia and her hate for Noxus, but was it so deep seeded, could no one here let go of hate? The Ionian frowned. "We still should bury them...give them that rite."
Post by The Will of the Blades on Aug 12, 2013 20:29:29 GMT -5
"As much as I would like to see the same happen to the Noxian state, there are still those that are innocent and are against the current regime... "
She slowly began to stand up on her frail feet, still withered down by the desperation and sadness that still lurked in her heart. The rain drops were like tears, dripping on her shoulders and her head, soaking her entirely and hiding her own tears.
"But look at them now, walking over our lands once more, acting like they are all peaceful, bah! Such an insult to every single Ionian."
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on Aug 21, 2013 21:38:27 GMT -5
"And there are other ways to combat it other than genocide." Daichi insisted. "I know they're in our land but this isn't like the war and there's no right reason to do what they did to us back to them." Daichi clenched a fist.
"I know it's hard. We all saw what happened." He approached her, if only just by a foot. "...These people still should be buried. Should still be recognized. There are others like this. We can lay them to rest, I don't like the idea of letting their bones remain bare on this land for any longer. Otherwise, our wounds will never heal."
Post by The Will of the Blades on Aug 28, 2013 23:58:24 GMT -5
Irelia's body sharply turned to face Daichi, while her rageful menacing eyes darted a sinister glare at the man that would send chills down his spinal bones, chills strong enough to petrify a man for a few seconds while her eyes pierced his soul. Her blades felt the hatred that lurked in her heart, they felt the heat of the anger emanating from her soul, even they were burning underneath the unbreakable steel they have been forged with.
Her expression, all her facial features demonstrated something dark; her fists clenched, her body tensed up as she took a few steps towards him. With every step, she stomped the ground, trying to release her anger by hurting it with her feet. Suddenly, her feet took a halt as her venomous eyes continued to stare at the man, and the words that slipped out of her throat were carried by a rather unsettling voice.
"They killed my family, my friends, EVERYONE!"
As she screamed her last word, her sword let out a steel screech, expressing its own anger through the noise it has released.
"These Noxians, are intruding our lands. The League is doing nothing; so we will take matters into our own hands and become independent from any exterior force! We will show Noxus that we do not need the League to kick them out, we do not need Demacia, nor Freljord to help us. The will of our people is strong enough to get rid of them, and with a great leader, we will be able to get rid of any obstacle in our way that prevents Justice from reaching the light! The Ionians deserve a better life! And if their blood must be spilled, then it will be spilled on our lands."
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on Aug 30, 2013 17:24:30 GMT -5
That stare, did she intend to start something here with him? Would she dare strike down one of her countrymen for not believing what she did? Daichi starred back with anger, it was not the first time he’d been put in a situation like this where someone far stronger than him had less than the best intentions. Every day he walked a fine line, he would do it again. Much to her surprise, Daichi was not afraid and did not flinch. He almost dared her to do something about him. But how her voice sounded, there was something unsettling there and for a moment he was afraid she would accept that invitation.
“You know that Zed killed everyone I knew. And then the Noxians decided to pick more off. I’ve lost a lot too.” Daichi dared to stare her down with a silent fear growing in his heart. “Do you think that this is really the best way? With everything else going on in this world do you think we need to make more war and strife? Not everyone is as vengeful as you.”
Post by The Will of the Blades on Sept 3, 2013 7:03:20 GMT -5
Irelia crushed the ground as she stepped closer to him; mud splattered on her steel boots with every step as her gaze remained locked on Daichi. One could see the fury boiling down her soul through her eyes, they could see the flames that ignited inside of her own heart, they could see the thirst for vengeance that lurked deep within her. Her feet stopped a few inches away from the man, and as he spoke, his words seemed more like mumbling and non-sense rather than anything realistic.
"You think that Noxus came over to Ionia because they do not want to end what they started a few years ago? You think that if we stand here doing nothing to fight back, we will be okay?! I do not need to waste my time with an ignorant who can not sense the incoming danger. The burial will be delayed, long as Noxus is in our lands, I would not allow any rite to be organised for this village."
Her voice boomed out of her lips as she spoke her words with a sharp tone fueled by her burning anger. Her pupils were extremely minuscule, a sign of a person's hatred when they stare down at another one. The Captain was not going to stay here with her arms crossed, she was going back to the Placidium and finally reinforcing her troops already present and looking out on the Noxians who invaded their lands.
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on Sept 5, 2013 17:33:31 GMT -5
No burial. No rite.
"Then I will do so of my own initiative. Go ahead and try to stop me from giving these people what they deserve. You have let your own obsessive hate cloud your judgement." He starred and tried to look through her. "I will not waste my time trying to reason with the unreasonable. I'd have better luck trying to reason with the order who killed my family."
Daichi grew impatient, angry. How could she be so blind to the world around her; everyone else was in disarray! Why tempt war? He was certain Noxus would make no moves to actually harm Ionia. Something more was at work.
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