Post by Zyren on Jul 31, 2023 23:08:12 GMT -5
The gentle peel of the bell rang through the inn as the door closed, taking the last customer with it. Outside the sun was just about to reach its zenith, and Zabor hurried over to pull the latch across. Wiping a bead of sweat from his head he pulled the blinds closed, his hand absent-mindedly moving to his now sparkling bracelet as he rushed back across the empty inn and into the back room.
Once inside he closed the wooden doors, leaving himself in a semi-darkness - but it wasn't enough. The bracelet around his wrist started to vibrate gently, driving Zabor to seek more darkness - and he had the perfect place. He pulled open the hatch down to the cellar before stumbling down the ladder, landing with a crumpled heap on the floor below. Groaning softly he picked himself up, pushing his glasses back onto his face as he crawled into the nearest corner.
When he got there he sat with his back against the wall, his eyes closed, and swayed gently back and forth. The vibration of his bracelet lessened slightly, before fading completely - down here, he was safe. A second gem, tucked away in the inside pocket of his waistcoat, vibrated instead - and Zabor felt himself swept away into a familiar place.
The astral realm.
"A-am I alone?" Zabor asked the surroundings, half-hoping that there was no response.
Most of him, however, just hoped that the answer wasn't 'yes'.
WC: 241
Soul sat in one the rooms afforded to him for being a basic Scholar in the academy on Kelioux, frowning as he studied a book lit up by his silver Ki that floated in a disc sized orb overhead. These various techniques don't make any sense to me, he grumbled mentally as he pushed the book away on the table before him, then closed his eyes and rubbed his temple.
From what's being said, Ki formation and building here relies solely on the energy from one's body. Is that why my technique of using Ki as a the 'ignition' before drawing in energy from the surroundings a problem? Why the Universal Laws hate my existence so much? That could explain why people usually grow so tired from using only small portions of their inherent amounts here...
He opened his eyes as the timed orb fizzled out of energy. "Well, time for mental training then. You good to hold down the fort, Zy?" He asked as he rocked back in his chair and looked over the back of it, the room flipping upside down to look at his counterpart that shared his body.
Zyren was sleeping, his face currently in a small book of his own.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said wryly, then closed his eyes. Immediately, the gem around his neck glowed briefly and the world fell away. Vertigo assaulted him, and he appeared in a small clearing surrounded by a forest on all sides, a small, bubbling brook gently making it's presence known to his ears in the middle.
Along with a slightly panicked voice asking if they were alone. Soul stood up from the grass and looked toward the man, revealing his long, silver haired form wrapped in scholared robes. "Sadly sir, I don't believe you are. No need to panic, my name is Soul. You are?"
WC: 312
Despite the words, and the careful tone in which they were spoken, Zabor panicked.
What a surprise.
He stumbled along the floor in a scramble to get away from the voice, his glasses dropping from his face in his haste to get away. It was several seconds before he could gather himself again, and several more before he could even attempt to speak. His breathing still ragged, he managed to push himself up into a standing position.
"S-Soul? I-Is that even possible? How am I talking to my Soul? Why does my Soul even look like that? I don't have anywhere near that much hair, and my face has never been so bald, and those robes? No, my Soul would never wear that I'm certain!"
He babbled on in this manner for several moments before gathering himself again - his nervousness always found some outlet, and unfortunately for those in his company it normally came in the form of incoherent ramblings.
Oh, lucky them.
"W-What time is it?" Zabor said in a secondary wave of panic, his hand moving to the amulet around his neck. He could feel the power within it, but it didn't throb or vibrate - was his power different here? Or was it just not close enough to noon?
"I don't know how my own soul doesn't know my name, but I'm Zabor, sir," he said, both hands coming down to straighten his waistcoat. A tertiary panic overcame him as he relaised his glasses were missing, but a strange calm swept over him as he realised he didn't need them anymore.
A strange place, indeed.
272 | 513
"No no," Soul said, slightly exasperated as he repeated it a few times much to his chagrin as the man cut him off several times in a panic. He waited to see if the man would calm down, yet when it seemed like he wouldn't, the Saiyan felt a twinge of frustration build in his temple. He took a breath and tried to remember the first time he had done something like this when he didn't know anything, which helped ease and calm himself from wanting to snap at the man.
"I am Soul, a different person entirely from you. We are both in the Astral Realm, an alternate dimension helped use to train or trade information with people that have access to it. As an example, my physical body is on the planet Kelioux." He took a second to try and see if that would stick, then looked upward at the sun; "As for the time, that's the cool thing about this place. It can be whatever time you wish it to be, or whatever place, as long as the other person isn't around or minds the change."
WC: 189/501
He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Then he opened it again.
And closed it.
How could he be Soul... but not be his soul? The implications were mind-boggling, but it was of little concern - not compared to the sun high in the sky, that was. Within himself he pushed against it, trying to force himself to wish that it was mid-morning, or late afternoon, or even early evening - but he knew it couldn't be. The beast inside had heard what was said, had understodd, had realised what this place could be.
A place of freedom.
The sun moved overhead as if it was fired from a slingshot, and then halted directly above the pair. The light bore down, but Zabor did not cover his eyes - he didn't need to.
The bracelet on his wrist cracked, falling to the ground as shattered remnants of what it once was. The amulet around his neck sizzled, the string tying it to his neck burning away into ashes as the pendant fell to the floor.
The transformation was instantaneous. His muscles bulged against his clothes, ripping through his waistcoat and revealing his huge torso - but he didn't stop there. His growth seemed immense, his body spiralling upwards until he was more than eight feet tall and made of pure, solid muscle.
His eyes, somehow, were the biggest change. Gone was the bespectacled eyes of a barman, replaced with eyes that glowed like the sun.
Eyes of justice.
"This place, this place is freedom."
His voice was deep, booming out across the clearing. In the distance astral birds floated up from the canopy, disturbed by the earthquake-like barotone of Zabor's voice.
"But tell me, Soul - who are you? Do you seek justice?"
292 | 805
Soul watched the man freeze, could nearly see the gears turn in the man's head, only for the lighting to shift around them. Shadows shortened, then disappeared as the man turned the time to...noon? The Saiyan cocked his head, then his easy gaze turned from an easy-going one to a serious one as his version of Sense echoed back to a change in the man's strength. It suddenly began to build, first slowly with the man's thoughts, maybe? Only to skyrocket. Why? Did it have something to do with the time of day? It could've been with his insistence on time and the reason why it changed to noon, but could that really be it?
A crack split the air much like lightning would, yet instead of the sky being the origin, it was the strange man's arm before him as it reduced the bracelet it wore to smithereens. A sizzle of burnt twine filled his nostrils as shredding cloth echoed in the clearing as Soul tilted his head back; eyes slightly wide from the man's change from a pipsqueak to a halting one. Even his voice changed from a bitch-made one to one that made Soul's tail curl in jealousy.
A voice that women would love and a body to accompany it.
"Depends on your version of Justice, Stranger." He said after a moment and a raised eyebrow, "Are we talking justice in the case of an ideal world and the laws within? Or, your own version?"
WC: 248/749
A bark of laughter emitted from Zabor's throat. "You speak of justice as if it is something that is flexible, something that can change between people - this is not the case. Justice, true justice, is absolute. It is not based on ideals or laws, or feelings or even judgements. It simply is, and it always will be."
His neck clicked as he turned it side to side, relishing the freedom that had not been his for much longer than he had realised - Zabor had become very well-pracitced in hiding away whenever his time was near.
But, here, he could be himself. Somehow he had control over this place even without controlling the body - here, he was the one in control, he was the one calling the shots.
He was the sun, he was the power, he was the justice.
"I am Zabor - I am the justice that it lacking in the universe, and I am the tool in which to deliver that justice. I am, and forever will be, the weapon of its deliverance."
He took a deep breath in through his nose, and his eyes flashed with burning embers.
"Tell me - what is your justice."
201 | 1006
"Nice to meet you, Zabor. You have a point with that," Soul noted, not surprised by his comment about true justice being unchanging; "Yet, for one of us to know what it is, doesn't that mean it can be quantified and brought to bare? For the jungle, Justice is the might of the strong to devour the weak. Not out of hate or anything like that, but just because that's how it is."
He paused to look upward, pondering on a few quiet things for a moment before he finally looked at Zabor once more, noting his features. "Maybe if you are who you say you are--anything is possible after all--Then thats the reason why I called it into question. True justice among society has been missing for a long time, and like with everything, the Universe is finally correcting itself."
He didn't, however, answer the man on what 'his' version of justice was. It depended on the situation, some might say, or even the location. Was family or friends involved? Was something to be gained or lost in that situation?
No, for Soul, the true meaning of Justice was something akin to a law that everyone had to abide by, that made it fair and equal as a whole. A 'perfect' aspect of Justice that wasn't able to be seen in a world that wasn't a storybook due to corruption and morally grey lines.
WC: 235/984
His head shook slowly from side to side. "Justice does not exist to be known by mortal minds. Justice is a constant beyond the comprehension of even your greatest scholars, a persistent ideal above the petty squabbles of lesser beings."
He raised a hand, and somehow his mind knew what to do. On his palm a golden set of scales appeared, with a dull light in each bowl - one red, one white.
"The scales of justice, a concept adopted by many of the mortal realm, bears the smallest representation of what justice truly is. For too long jstice has been purveyed as a battle between good and evil - but it is not. They are two ideals of the same coin, two battling embodiments of injustice trying to gain traction over the other."
"No, justice is not good versus evil. Justice cares not for which team you align with - justice cares not for the justifications that you tell yourself when you sleep at night. Justice, simply, is."
He clenched his fist, and the scales crumbled to dust. In the sky the sun flickered, and Zabor's eyes seemed to flicker along with it. "I am burdened by glorious purpose to deliver that justice - not to those that I see fit, but to those that justice deems necessary. Do you understand, now?"
225 | 1231
Soul paused as he listened to Zabor's explanation, eyes watching the man manipulate the realm with ease; the gears in his head churning with the many possibilities as well as the man's philosophy. It was profound and simple at the same time, something he admired, yet had only a bit of a struggle to understand it. It was the same way the laws worked in the Universe, of why the rain fell a certain way or why fire acted the way it did.
Both just were.
Both just like the concept of the Yin and Yang, each bound to one another, each seeming to fight for control yet as he said; two sides of the same coin. Justice was a law along with the rest of the rules, and hell--if it wasn't, then the Saiyan had a feeling that the man before him could very well make it one. Something inside of him shifted along with the sound of something that seemed to break, and then his view broadened.
His Ki fluctuated, his vision distorted for only a moment before it righted itself, and the way he looked at the world changed just like it had when he started to understand the concept and true understanding of Fyre.
Then, he visibly nodded, his eyes honest, his voice resolute; "I do understand."
WC: 221/1205
For a second Zabor's eyes squinted, as if discerning the truth behind Soul's words. The forest around them rustled as if in expectation of his decision, eager to hear his thoughts on the matter.
He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I believe you do, Soul - which makes you a rare breed indeed. For too long the universe has toyed with the idea that good is always right, that so-called nobility is that which we should strive for. But who decides what true nobility is? The man who is forced into a life of crime to save his family from abject poverty? Or the so-called hero who parades his virtue from the highest peaks, ignoring those unfortunate enough to be below him?"
He shook his head softly, lowering both of his hands. The sun above seemed to dim slightly, and Zabor felt his muscle mass beginning to decrease. The vibrant flame of his eyes started to dull, and his power began to seep away.
"Alas, some in the universe are not ready for this kind of justice."
"Unfortunately for them, they are the ones I am coming for first."
At his last words the sun shrunk to the barest speck of light in the sky, and Zabor vanished - all that he left behind was a faint dust of the destroyed scales that still littered in the wind.
231 | 1462
Once inside he closed the wooden doors, leaving himself in a semi-darkness - but it wasn't enough. The bracelet around his wrist started to vibrate gently, driving Zabor to seek more darkness - and he had the perfect place. He pulled open the hatch down to the cellar before stumbling down the ladder, landing with a crumpled heap on the floor below. Groaning softly he picked himself up, pushing his glasses back onto his face as he crawled into the nearest corner.
When he got there he sat with his back against the wall, his eyes closed, and swayed gently back and forth. The vibration of his bracelet lessened slightly, before fading completely - down here, he was safe. A second gem, tucked away in the inside pocket of his waistcoat, vibrated instead - and Zabor felt himself swept away into a familiar place.
The astral realm.
"A-am I alone?" Zabor asked the surroundings, half-hoping that there was no response.
Most of him, however, just hoped that the answer wasn't 'yes'.
WC: 241
Soul sat in one the rooms afforded to him for being a basic Scholar in the academy on Kelioux, frowning as he studied a book lit up by his silver Ki that floated in a disc sized orb overhead. These various techniques don't make any sense to me, he grumbled mentally as he pushed the book away on the table before him, then closed his eyes and rubbed his temple.
From what's being said, Ki formation and building here relies solely on the energy from one's body. Is that why my technique of using Ki as a the 'ignition' before drawing in energy from the surroundings a problem? Why the Universal Laws hate my existence so much? That could explain why people usually grow so tired from using only small portions of their inherent amounts here...
He opened his eyes as the timed orb fizzled out of energy. "Well, time for mental training then. You good to hold down the fort, Zy?" He asked as he rocked back in his chair and looked over the back of it, the room flipping upside down to look at his counterpart that shared his body.
Zyren was sleeping, his face currently in a small book of his own.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said wryly, then closed his eyes. Immediately, the gem around his neck glowed briefly and the world fell away. Vertigo assaulted him, and he appeared in a small clearing surrounded by a forest on all sides, a small, bubbling brook gently making it's presence known to his ears in the middle.
Along with a slightly panicked voice asking if they were alone. Soul stood up from the grass and looked toward the man, revealing his long, silver haired form wrapped in scholared robes. "Sadly sir, I don't believe you are. No need to panic, my name is Soul. You are?"
WC: 312
Despite the words, and the careful tone in which they were spoken, Zabor panicked.
What a surprise.
He stumbled along the floor in a scramble to get away from the voice, his glasses dropping from his face in his haste to get away. It was several seconds before he could gather himself again, and several more before he could even attempt to speak. His breathing still ragged, he managed to push himself up into a standing position.
"S-Soul? I-Is that even possible? How am I talking to my Soul? Why does my Soul even look like that? I don't have anywhere near that much hair, and my face has never been so bald, and those robes? No, my Soul would never wear that I'm certain!"
He babbled on in this manner for several moments before gathering himself again - his nervousness always found some outlet, and unfortunately for those in his company it normally came in the form of incoherent ramblings.
Oh, lucky them.
"W-What time is it?" Zabor said in a secondary wave of panic, his hand moving to the amulet around his neck. He could feel the power within it, but it didn't throb or vibrate - was his power different here? Or was it just not close enough to noon?
"I don't know how my own soul doesn't know my name, but I'm Zabor, sir," he said, both hands coming down to straighten his waistcoat. A tertiary panic overcame him as he relaised his glasses were missing, but a strange calm swept over him as he realised he didn't need them anymore.
A strange place, indeed.
272 | 513
"No no," Soul said, slightly exasperated as he repeated it a few times much to his chagrin as the man cut him off several times in a panic. He waited to see if the man would calm down, yet when it seemed like he wouldn't, the Saiyan felt a twinge of frustration build in his temple. He took a breath and tried to remember the first time he had done something like this when he didn't know anything, which helped ease and calm himself from wanting to snap at the man.
"I am Soul, a different person entirely from you. We are both in the Astral Realm, an alternate dimension helped use to train or trade information with people that have access to it. As an example, my physical body is on the planet Kelioux." He took a second to try and see if that would stick, then looked upward at the sun; "As for the time, that's the cool thing about this place. It can be whatever time you wish it to be, or whatever place, as long as the other person isn't around or minds the change."
WC: 189/501
He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Then he opened it again.
And closed it.
How could he be Soul... but not be his soul? The implications were mind-boggling, but it was of little concern - not compared to the sun high in the sky, that was. Within himself he pushed against it, trying to force himself to wish that it was mid-morning, or late afternoon, or even early evening - but he knew it couldn't be. The beast inside had heard what was said, had understodd, had realised what this place could be.
A place of freedom.
The sun moved overhead as if it was fired from a slingshot, and then halted directly above the pair. The light bore down, but Zabor did not cover his eyes - he didn't need to.
The bracelet on his wrist cracked, falling to the ground as shattered remnants of what it once was. The amulet around his neck sizzled, the string tying it to his neck burning away into ashes as the pendant fell to the floor.
The transformation was instantaneous. His muscles bulged against his clothes, ripping through his waistcoat and revealing his huge torso - but he didn't stop there. His growth seemed immense, his body spiralling upwards until he was more than eight feet tall and made of pure, solid muscle.
His eyes, somehow, were the biggest change. Gone was the bespectacled eyes of a barman, replaced with eyes that glowed like the sun.
Eyes of justice.
"This place, this place is freedom."
His voice was deep, booming out across the clearing. In the distance astral birds floated up from the canopy, disturbed by the earthquake-like barotone of Zabor's voice.
"But tell me, Soul - who are you? Do you seek justice?"
292 | 805
Soul watched the man freeze, could nearly see the gears turn in the man's head, only for the lighting to shift around them. Shadows shortened, then disappeared as the man turned the time to...noon? The Saiyan cocked his head, then his easy gaze turned from an easy-going one to a serious one as his version of Sense echoed back to a change in the man's strength. It suddenly began to build, first slowly with the man's thoughts, maybe? Only to skyrocket. Why? Did it have something to do with the time of day? It could've been with his insistence on time and the reason why it changed to noon, but could that really be it?
A crack split the air much like lightning would, yet instead of the sky being the origin, it was the strange man's arm before him as it reduced the bracelet it wore to smithereens. A sizzle of burnt twine filled his nostrils as shredding cloth echoed in the clearing as Soul tilted his head back; eyes slightly wide from the man's change from a pipsqueak to a halting one. Even his voice changed from a bitch-made one to one that made Soul's tail curl in jealousy.
A voice that women would love and a body to accompany it.
"Depends on your version of Justice, Stranger." He said after a moment and a raised eyebrow, "Are we talking justice in the case of an ideal world and the laws within? Or, your own version?"
WC: 248/749
A bark of laughter emitted from Zabor's throat. "You speak of justice as if it is something that is flexible, something that can change between people - this is not the case. Justice, true justice, is absolute. It is not based on ideals or laws, or feelings or even judgements. It simply is, and it always will be."
His neck clicked as he turned it side to side, relishing the freedom that had not been his for much longer than he had realised - Zabor had become very well-pracitced in hiding away whenever his time was near.
But, here, he could be himself. Somehow he had control over this place even without controlling the body - here, he was the one in control, he was the one calling the shots.
He was the sun, he was the power, he was the justice.
"I am Zabor - I am the justice that it lacking in the universe, and I am the tool in which to deliver that justice. I am, and forever will be, the weapon of its deliverance."
He took a deep breath in through his nose, and his eyes flashed with burning embers.
"Tell me - what is your justice."
201 | 1006
"Nice to meet you, Zabor. You have a point with that," Soul noted, not surprised by his comment about true justice being unchanging; "Yet, for one of us to know what it is, doesn't that mean it can be quantified and brought to bare? For the jungle, Justice is the might of the strong to devour the weak. Not out of hate or anything like that, but just because that's how it is."
He paused to look upward, pondering on a few quiet things for a moment before he finally looked at Zabor once more, noting his features. "Maybe if you are who you say you are--anything is possible after all--Then thats the reason why I called it into question. True justice among society has been missing for a long time, and like with everything, the Universe is finally correcting itself."
He didn't, however, answer the man on what 'his' version of justice was. It depended on the situation, some might say, or even the location. Was family or friends involved? Was something to be gained or lost in that situation?
No, for Soul, the true meaning of Justice was something akin to a law that everyone had to abide by, that made it fair and equal as a whole. A 'perfect' aspect of Justice that wasn't able to be seen in a world that wasn't a storybook due to corruption and morally grey lines.
WC: 235/984
His head shook slowly from side to side. "Justice does not exist to be known by mortal minds. Justice is a constant beyond the comprehension of even your greatest scholars, a persistent ideal above the petty squabbles of lesser beings."
He raised a hand, and somehow his mind knew what to do. On his palm a golden set of scales appeared, with a dull light in each bowl - one red, one white.
"The scales of justice, a concept adopted by many of the mortal realm, bears the smallest representation of what justice truly is. For too long jstice has been purveyed as a battle between good and evil - but it is not. They are two ideals of the same coin, two battling embodiments of injustice trying to gain traction over the other."
"No, justice is not good versus evil. Justice cares not for which team you align with - justice cares not for the justifications that you tell yourself when you sleep at night. Justice, simply, is."
He clenched his fist, and the scales crumbled to dust. In the sky the sun flickered, and Zabor's eyes seemed to flicker along with it. "I am burdened by glorious purpose to deliver that justice - not to those that I see fit, but to those that justice deems necessary. Do you understand, now?"
225 | 1231
Soul paused as he listened to Zabor's explanation, eyes watching the man manipulate the realm with ease; the gears in his head churning with the many possibilities as well as the man's philosophy. It was profound and simple at the same time, something he admired, yet had only a bit of a struggle to understand it. It was the same way the laws worked in the Universe, of why the rain fell a certain way or why fire acted the way it did.
Both just were.
Both just like the concept of the Yin and Yang, each bound to one another, each seeming to fight for control yet as he said; two sides of the same coin. Justice was a law along with the rest of the rules, and hell--if it wasn't, then the Saiyan had a feeling that the man before him could very well make it one. Something inside of him shifted along with the sound of something that seemed to break, and then his view broadened.
His Ki fluctuated, his vision distorted for only a moment before it righted itself, and the way he looked at the world changed just like it had when he started to understand the concept and true understanding of Fyre.
Then, he visibly nodded, his eyes honest, his voice resolute; "I do understand."
WC: 221/1205
For a second Zabor's eyes squinted, as if discerning the truth behind Soul's words. The forest around them rustled as if in expectation of his decision, eager to hear his thoughts on the matter.
He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I believe you do, Soul - which makes you a rare breed indeed. For too long the universe has toyed with the idea that good is always right, that so-called nobility is that which we should strive for. But who decides what true nobility is? The man who is forced into a life of crime to save his family from abject poverty? Or the so-called hero who parades his virtue from the highest peaks, ignoring those unfortunate enough to be below him?"
He shook his head softly, lowering both of his hands. The sun above seemed to dim slightly, and Zabor felt his muscle mass beginning to decrease. The vibrant flame of his eyes started to dull, and his power began to seep away.
"Alas, some in the universe are not ready for this kind of justice."
"Unfortunately for them, they are the ones I am coming for first."
At his last words the sun shrunk to the barest speck of light in the sky, and Zabor vanished - all that he left behind was a faint dust of the destroyed scales that still littered in the wind.
231 | 1462