Aiden has a spear. A spear that has a name and a degree of sentience. He can feel it, scratching at the the back of his mind almost constantly. It might also be causing something else … discomfit, perhaps.
Which might also be a little distracting as something melts from the shadows “Hello Fail Fianna…” the creature purrs. Aiden can’t quite make it out but the spear certainly buzzes warningly.
People don’t genreally ‘purr’ at Aiden like that. It’s not that he’s bad looking, really, it’s that he tends to excude an aura of unapproachability. He’s distracted. Perhaps cold or otherwise unavailable. The ones that do tend to be looking at something other than his face. He’s a potent psychic after all and that kind of power attracts ‘people’ for some definitions of people. They’re typically not people he really wants to deal with though.
The spear hovering behind him – following him around like a very stubborn puppy – tilts when he turns his head a little warily. When something just… appears, it tends to set Aiden’s guard up. “Hello…”
The spear, Gae Bulg, as it was named to the pyschic, gleams bright white in the glint of the Ley Lamp. It’s not made of any metal that Aiden knows … if that’s metal at all. There’s probably a story behind it, if he cared to find out more.
“Fianna Fail.” The voice is lilting, like one he’s heard recently. The creature moves forward a little further, giving Aiden a better look at him. Dark skin, it might be grey, a single eye in the middle of its head. It’s not all that tall though … about the same height as the grey eyed psychic. The creature looks at the spear as it tilts in his direction “So it’s true. The spear chose you.”
Chose him? That’s not what Scathach had indicated. Either way, the spear itself hums angrily against Aidens mind as it hovers there – a warning? Perhaps. He could probably block it out if he tried.
Giving Aiden a searching look, the creature holds an energy rifle loosely by its side “Given our first attempt didn’t work, I’m here to do it properly.” He raises the rifle, getting ready to fire it.
The spear hums more angrily and Aiden can feel it surge.
It’s a simple, instinctive thing as the rifle comes up that Aiden ‘wills’ the spear over his shoulder pint first at the one eyed woman. He’s not actually controlling it with telekinesis but the spear darts forth all the same, right over the rifle, straight at the woman’s chest. She’s got a weapon but Aiden’s mind is a weapon that he always has to hand. And thus far no one has equalled it.
He also throws himself out of the way because he’s not an idiot. He knows this might not work and getting shot with lasers is a good way to die.
The one eyed woman – monster some might name her – manages to squeeze off a energy blast that goes wide but still narrowly missing the psychic, had he not dodged. The stone of the wall where the blast hits hisses and fizzes – probably not a good idea to let it hit.
The spear almost hums happily as it responds to the psychics commands. How it does that, Aiden might wonder later – but it had been a stubborn puppy until now. It aims straight for the womans heart. It would have hit too, had she been a fraction slower, the rifle rises, catching it long enough for her to dodge out of its way, shooting another blast of energy where she thinks the psychic might be.
There’s a distinct look of worry on her face. That spear … it’s a cause for concern, at least.
If it’s cause for concern, the shield and sword that appear in Aiden’s hands will be even mroe a cause for concern. With a spear that he doesn’t actually have to wield (just as well, he doesn’t know how) it means he can pressure the woman, monster, whatever she is from a second direction.
The shield, that’s for the rifle. Because yes. Getting shot would be bad.
“I don’t know who they told you I was, but that’s the last mistake you get to make.” The spear darts in and out, jabbing and slashing at the face and arms as Aiden closes in with a blood red psyblade.
“Your name is spoken, Soldier of Destiny…” the woman grunts, batting the spear away with the shaft of her rifle. Now Aiden can see her better, there’s a blade on her hip as well though clearly, she favours the rifle. “… You are known and marked. And what the Daughter of Danu could not do, we will.”
She grunts again as the spear bobs and weaves, responding it seems to his direction. She certainly doesn’t want it to pierce her. Seeing him close with the psyblade and shield, she lets of a couple of errant shots from her weapon as she tries to back away to give herself room.
Now pressured from two sides and with her blade still sheathed the cyclopean woman is certainly in some trouble. The psy-warrior is in no mood to give her that space and both he and the spear follow as she fades back, unwilling to give any room for her longarm to come into play. “If my name really is spoken then you know who I am and what I’ve done. And you know I don’t suffer your kind of foolishness.”
Aiden doesn’t go in for the kill though. He feints with the sword as a trash can picks itself up behind the woman and hurtles toward the back of her head.
“Your name, Fianna Fail?” She hasn’t used his real name, not once since she called him. “What I know is that Gae Bolg has chosen you … and that is enough to make dangerous to us.” It’s not clear that she knows of his history – she’s more concerned that he’s been accepted by the spear.
She sways, avoiding the feint and grunting as the trash can sends her stumbling forward, eyes unfoccused as the spear dances in to hit her again. That trash can has to have hit hard enough to knock a human out – clearly the grey skinned woman has a thick skull – still, she’s stunned and not trying to hit him at the moment. Keeping her feet seems to be a good thing.
If anything, she seems to be trying to scramble away from the psy-blade and spear wielding warrior.
At Aiden’s urging the spear darts forward again but it’s not clear that the psychic actually can prevent her from getting away. He’s mostly concerned with not getting shot. The blade flashes again and this time he isn’t swiping at the woman herself but rather at her rifle. Such things are not generally supernaturally tough and it does after all take a skilled warrior to deliberately target them. It’s much easier if, as in this case, it’s being used to defend herself. Definitely not what they were designed to do.
“If you’re that concerned, you should have brought more than one of you.” He growls.
The spear ‘hums’ at the edge of Aidens mind almost gleefully, as the serrated blade embeds itself in the womans chest. The bright shaft glows brightly, causing the curly sigals to shine and something seems to explode within the womans body. Barbs of the same bright light appearing throughout her chest.
She grunts and staggers, falling to the ground, black ichor spilling out over the street.
“I knew I chose well…” comes another lilting voice “… and please don’t send the spear to deal with me.” The red haired woman from Sarens Rest stands not far him. Scathatch. “Rest assured, Fianna Fail, Aiden Frost … they’ll be more careful next time. You … did well.”
Aiden might have to clean the spear later and what’s left of the gray skinned, one eyed woman is a bloodied mess.
The woman laughs at the dry tone and watches as the spear responds to Aidens command “I’m a little hurt you have to ask, Fianna Fail. Didn’t our time together mean anything to you?”
“But yes, that is the name that I gave you…” Whether it is her name or not is a good question. “And I did enjoy the display, very much. I might have to devise some displays for my own entertainment given how well you perform.”
“I’ve not seen Gae Bolg respond to anyone quite as readily as it responds to you.” The lilting tone might be almost musical and the woman is dressed again in the pleated leather skirt and leather top, her long red hair cascading over her shoulders in loose curls.
The spear spins itself on its axise and moves back behind Aiden. The psychic glares at it. “Stop showing off.” The spear doesn’t answer.
It just hangs there. Like a spear. The psychic shield and sword fade as Aiden relaxes – a little bit – once more.
“Our time together. Yes. All of four minutes of it. I’ll treasure it always.” The dryness in Aiden’s tone could crack skin on a cold day. “I’m not in the habit of fighting for entertainment though. What is it you came back for, Scathach? Forget your keys?”
“It likes to show off…” Scathatch answers, eyes taking the pyschic in. Her grin gets a little wider at the mans dry tone “Sometimes, four minutes is all it takes … Of course, I generally prefer longer.”
“You assume that I left to begin with.” The redheaded Goddess replies. “Maybe I heard there were others in the area and I thought I would look in on them. Imagine my surprise to find you here. Do you always fight like that?” Does she mean with the psy-sword and shield or does she mean using his mind? “It seems a little unfair to those you go up against. She certainly wasn’t expecting to be clocked in the head from behind.”
Why is she here? That’s a good question and possibly not one Aiden is going to get a straight answer to.
“With telekinesis? Or with dirty tricks? Yes either way. Honorable duels are for idiots and immortals. Fair fights get you killed sooner or later, and usually sooner.” That may not be an opinion that Scathach shares. She does come from an era of heroic combat and deeds. At least… if she’s the same Scathach. That’s not gaurenteed on Rifts Earth.
“Only if you’re very good. Or very bad.” Does it take four minutes, he means. “So you just happened on by then, mmm?”
Scathach might be the one for that era, or she might be something entirely else. It’s correct that on Rifts Earth, there’s no guarantee of it – and it’s possible that the being has just adopted the name or something. “Dirty tricks more than the telekinesis, Warrior. And honorable duels aren’t necessarily for immortals either. Our history is littered with tricks and the like that give one party an advantage over the other.”
Taking her time, she starts to circle the man, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips “You’re methods are perhaps a little more direct than what I’m used to. But I think you’ll find you’re going to need them. Still, I’m intrigued. You fight well and your command of your power is … impressive.”
There’s no question, just a lot of talk from the woman but Aiden might be getting the feeling he’s … become interesting.
“I’ve had a lot of practice. War and all.” What Scathach knows of his past Aiden does not know. He suspects she knows something, but does she know or care of the war? The scars it left on him and the way it shaped him?
Aiden hasn’t been that ‘interesting’ to anyone in quite some time. Sometimes the attention is pleasant. Sometimes it’s really, really not. Slightly higher chance on rifts earth of the second over the first. His eyes follow as she circles.
“Trying to get a better view of the spear? I’ll clean it when we’re done here. I promise.”
“I can tell.” The redhead murmurs quietly “It has … shaped you … ” Is that good or is that bad? As to ‘interesting’, that’s likely not entirely true. There’s a blonde at least who found him interesting enough to find him in Splynn when he was taken. There might be another redhead as well – though she’s less likely to show it.
“Not the spear, no.” Scathatch answers, green eyes meeting his grey ones as she circles. “I trust you’ll treat the spear well. It won’t let you do otherwise, but I suspect you know that. Do you hear it, by the way?”
There was the blonde yes. He bears the marks of that time, and of her rescue. The biotech seems sleepy right now though. Doesn’t seem as if this ‘Scathach’ sets it off.
“I always treat my weapons well.” He murmurs, turning slightly to keep her in view. The way she circles is almost feline.
“I hear it hum… or buzz. Is that what you’re referring to?” He knows little of this weapon and tries to interact with it as little as possible. Some artifacts like this one are cursed.
Scathach may not set the biotech off but then, she hasn’t tried to touch the psychic yet. Pyscically, Magically or Physically. What might happen if she did?
“I ken you don’t just treat your weapons well.” It might be feline the way she prowls, it’s certainly something. She smiles though as he turns to watch her, bare legs flashing beneath the splits in the skirt she wears.
“Hum, buzz… you’ve managed to block it from your mind?” That certainly has her attention now “Just how strong are you, Aiden Frost?”
Possibly nothing. Possibly many things. Oddly, it’s not something that has occured to Aiden to even wonder about yet.
The mode of dress is… interesting. Old fashioned in some ways. Not something he would often associate with Irish but then people in modern times know less about what that would mean than in the past. Only the Irish really know the Irish anymore. Or the fae that inhabit their island.
“Strong enough. I have a lot of practice keeping things out of my head.” The mental block technique that he and others like him are tought is difficult to crack to say the least. Of course… it could just be that he’s not attuned well enough for it to want to speak. Or maybe it’s decided he’s boring.
“I’m going to guess most of your other ‘chosen’ weren’t psychics.” He’s still turning, trying to keep her in view as she circles. WHich she’s still… doing. The regard is… well he’s certianly not unaware of it. She presents in some ways almost like Sanka’a. Though Sanka’a thinks he’s a pain and not ‘interesting’.
Or maybe Aiden’s just blocking the spear – it certainly nudges at him fairly consistently, enough that his passenger might soon get annoyed. Boring? That’s unlikely – Gae Bulg certainly responds to him.
“They might have been, Warrior.” Scathach finally stops her prowling, coming to rest in front of the psychic, holding his gaze as she settles “Or they might not have. They certainly … weren’t like you.” That doesn’t seem to be a bad thing, if anything, she seems … delighted.
She steps closer than, invading his personal space and raising her hand to just by his temple – not touching him … yet – “Will you let me see just how powerful?”
Perhaps he is. And perhaps it’ll nudge him later. It seems almost like a dog to him. But it might be smarter than that.
“I’d… have a care. But yes go ahead.” Exactly what she’s going to do he’s not sure. Worse comes to worse he can always slam a mind block down and object more forcefully. That’s if his passenger doesn’t object. But it hasn’t so far and Aiden would think if it were going to it would have by now.
The personal space thing almost has him backing up. She’s… really close now. Of course a lot of beings don’t have the same notion of personal space. What about him seems to please her so, though, he wonders?
“Oh?” The goddess-witch raises an eyebrow at the warning and doesn’t let him put anymore room between them. If she’s aware there’s a problem with his personal space, it certainly doesn’t show. Her fingers touch the side of his temple though and he can //feel// her …
Touching his mind, exploring. It’s light at first, a cursory glance but deepens slowly, as she explores his power and … his mind. Intimate enough that it might well trigger memories that he’s tried to suppress or ones that he’s not thought on in such a long while.
“Such power in one so very human …” What pleases her? It’s hard to tell, but his power certainly seems to be part of it.
The first memories that come up are unpleasant ones. Memories of his time in Atlantis. He’d been inspected in a similar fashion. Albiet not quite so… intently. Or rather with different intent. The eyelarch seems to awaken. It doesn’t try to evict the goddess-witch. It just… watches. Futher back, memories of the war. Aiden closes his eyes. She can sense that power.
And then… a memory of being held captive by demons. He’d been there for some time. They’d tried a number of things to break him before his friends finally found him.
Scathach can feel it, the eyelarch that is, and she’s careful of it. The memories of Atlantis are looked at carefully, it’s probably not comfortable as their twisted and turned. Memories of receiving the Eyelarch, fighting in the arena, being collected by the blonde in the end.
The war gets a cursory glance, which might not surprise him. The demons though, that gets some scrutiny.
The memory is dissected, the poor psychic might relive many of the moments as the Goddess-Witch looks. Eventually, her mind pulls away from his, her hand doesn’t drop though, resting lightly on his temple.
When his eyes finally open, he’ll see her green ones looking at him curiously “Such power and strength in one so young…”
She’s … waiting. To see how he responds to the experience before saying anything else.
Aiden’s breath is shuddery. He lets it out slowly. The experience of the memory is very… intense. “Only young by some standards.” Is what he manages when he opens his own grey eyes.
“Why… did you do that?” Curiosity he understands but this is more than curiosity. He doesn’t realize at the moment that she’s still got a hand on him. His psychic watcher is quiescent. There’s been nothing to trip it quite yet.
The Goddess-Witch cants her head as the psychic breathes, her green eyes considering the words. It’s almost alien, the look she gives him “I … wanted to know…” It’s possible that being a D-Bee, a Goddess by many standards, that she doesn’t, and can’t, understand the very human emotions the psychic experiences.
“… How you could resist the call of Gae Bulg and fight as you do…” does she understand now? It’s hard to tell. “… and now I have more questions …” That’s probably not good news to Aiden. “I will understand more if I can.”
What on earth does that mean?
“The call?” Aiden isn’t familair with the legends and he’s also not actually heard or felt it say anything. It might have to do with the fact that he’s very telepathically resistant. Or it might have to do with something else. Something unique about him. Either way it’s not surprising it’s piqued the goddess’ interest.
Whether or not that’s a good thing he’s yet to figure.
“You… do? What kind of questions?”
“Yes … the call. Gae Bulg is not a normal weapon, as I’m sure you’re aware. It bonds with its wielder until its no longer needed … that you haven’t heard it …”
She shrugs and steps back. “Questions that you only you can answer, Aiden Frost.” Aiden, not Fianna Fail as she named him when she bound him to his task. “Questions … that I will get the answer to in time.” There’s a smile and another almost alien look at him before she turns and starts to walk away.
“I will find you, Aiden Frost and we will talk again.” Her voice fades as she seems to melt into the shadows, leaving Aiden with the carcass of the grey skinned woman.
Talk? Or will she try to rifle through his memories more, trying to understand how he is so strong? Trying … to understand him?