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Armand (vagabond_child) wrote in mirage_rpg,
@ 2008-09-09 07:42:00

Entry tags:

armand, arrival, complete, day 14, toph bei fong

Day Fourteen
Who: Armand and Toph
Where: Along the beach, to start.
When: After dark
What: Armand arrives
Rating? This could be a PG-13 for descriptions of burning alive.
Status? Complete

The small televangelist who had somehow gotten a hold of the icon held it up, and Armand saw the very face of Jesus blasted into the fibers. Dora, her name was, but he didn't really care about that. She could have been anyone. The veil was the important thing. Just a simple piece of white fabric, but the face of the savior...

Gabrielle had gone down into hell itself, maybe as some sort of reaction to losing her son. She had been reckless, impulsive, since Lestat had pulled his disappearing act. And she'd brought the Veil from the very grasp of Satan. Armand couldn't stop staring at it. His mind slipped back more than five hundred years to when he'd been the one creating religious imagary. He could smell the paint. And then, to see that his best work was thrown in the mud when he was kidnapped, and he had failed. He hadn't protected the icon.

This one, though, was a million times more precious. A real relic. Not made by human hands. The sun was going to rise soon. Any sane Vampire would be safely inside by now. But though Armand felt the drowsiness of the coming day, he didn't seek a resting place. Instead, he stood where he was, on the steps of a church, and waited.

It had been so long since he'd felt like this, that there was anything in the world worth sacrificing himself for. So long since he was last filled with this religious feeling, this faith, this hope. It was overwhelming. But it left no doubt to him what must happen. He was evil, the Veil was good. Therefore, to sacrifice himself to the power of the icon, that would be a good thing.

His eyes started to hurt. The sun was starting to lighten the sky, though it hadn't made its appearance yet. It wouldn't be long. He looked to the East, waiting. Others pulled at him, told him to stop, but he pushed them away. Soon enough, they had to go into their resting places themselves, and left him alone. Only mortals would see him die. But, since it was to them that the world belonged, maybe that was fitting.

As the sun crested the hills and sent it's first rays shooting to the steps of the church where the vampire stood, he saw his first sunrise in over 500 years. How nice, that he would die in beauty. His skin started to smoke, and the pain shooting through him was unendurable. But he did endure it, and even somehow remained on his feet.

Something was wrong, though. Flames should have been shooting out of his skin by now. He'd been so sure his death would be quick. But the minutes passed, and he just smoked, blackened, but didn't burst into flames. His wild mind, crazed by the warm, early-morning sun, remembered the story of Those Who Must Be Kept. Put into the sun for a whole day, and they survived. He wasn't going to die. He was too old.

He fell onto his knees, screaming in denial. He'd come here to die! His sacrifice had been rejected. But not by everyone, it seemed. Maybe the sun didn't want him, but someone did. A burst of golden light shot out of the sky, illuminating the vampire, and when it lifted, he was gone. To a mortal watching, it would have just seemed another miracle. They had been quite common since the Veil had been brought to earth.

Armand, however, nearly passed out. An unusual thing for a vampire to do, but he wasn't fully himself from the sun. The light, he was sure, was God's wrath shining down to kill him after all. So when he found himself deposited onto the sand, his skin still smoldering and blackened, he was shocked. Was this hell? It really didn't look like hell. And it couldn't be heaven, not when he was in so much pain.

He'd landed on his knees, just as he'd been when he'd been back on earth, and slowly, he rose. He winced with every step. Already, his body was trying to heal, but the damage was extensive. He was still formed exactly as usual, of course, but his skin was black. It was nighttime here, and as he looked around, a few things became apparent. He was by the sea, and he was nowhere in North America. Even in Florida, it wasn't as gorgeous as it was here. And it just didn't feel right, somehow.

Where was he? Where had his sacrifice taken him? Who had rescued him? He didn't know, and, standing in one place, he looked around.

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rocksolid
2008-09-09 12:03 pm UTC (link)

Toph had not done a whole lot worth mentioning today. She had not done a lot worth mentioning since arriving at this place. It was all very dull for a place that was to cater to their every need. She'd stumbled on a water slide thing a couple days ago, which as she couldn't swim did little good, found several rooms filled with devices not made of earth that made very strange noises, and undoubtedly all of it would have been more interesting and understandable if she'd been able to see what was behind the warm glass screens. The sword fighting a few days back had been fun enough, and she'd taken to 'training' on her own now and then.

In general, however, this place was a lot like the Bei Fong manor where she'd grown up. Boring. Open space and all sorts of activities she wasn't interested in. So today she'd taken to the beach. She'd stayed away from the water, allowing it to wash over her ankles at most, and worked on her sand bending. Now it was getting late, not that sunset had any impact on her, and she stood on the beach with a miniature model of the resort in surprisingly precise detail and the nearest surrounding area to her left, a stone chair where she sat currently, and was slowly working on creating a model of the city of Omashu.

It was then that she felt foot steps. Footsteps of a person she was quite sure hadn't been there before. Actually, person became a term she was using lightly after focusing more on the stranger. There was no heartbeat, but it wasn't a golem. She would've ignored the stranger if not for that fact.

The teenager stood and made her way towards Armand, ignoring the voice of Sokka in the back of her mind insisting she not go near the zombie. The place had rules against killing, and she had no doubt she could defend herself from whatever it was. Toph was also kind of interested. It wasn't everyday you ran into someone walking around with no heartbeat.

"You lost?" She asked, deciding not to go for the blunt question of 'what the hell are you' first. Not that she was normally one to be all that polite, but figured she'd be more likely to get a real answer if she started with a greeting or two.

Toph was almost the same height as him, something that was always good in her book as she hated being thought of as short, and had a general idea of his build. Other then that though, she didn't know much else about how he looked -- which meant no alarm over the scorched, black flesh slowly healing itself.

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vagabond_child
2008-09-09 12:49 pm UTC (link)

His body was a mass of pain, raw, exposed nerve endings. And to think, he could just go on like this forever. He'd been so sure he could still die. After all, he wasn't that old. But Marius, his maker, had been more than 1500 years old, and the strength in Armand's blood was directly connected to Marius. He should have thought of it, should have at least let it cross his mind that he would survive the fire of the sun.

It was a testiment to just how injured he was, just how much pain he felt, that he hadn't even noticed the girl before. Pretty, in an interesting sort of way. He glanced down at his hands, noting they were actually black. Odd that she wouldn't be alarmed by this. He was, and she wasn't a vampire. He would know immediately if she was. But she didn't seem to care.

He couldn't resist. And the power of his mind was as strong as ever. Actually, as he slipped into her mind and read her surface thoughts, he was pretty sure it was stronger. His ruined face turned thoughtful as he learned just why she was not afraid of him. She couldn't see him. Well, that was lucky.

"I would say that I am lost, yes. Perhaps we all are. But I was somewhere else a few minutes ago, and now, here I am. Do you know anything of this?"

How strange to be talking to a mortal. For she was a mortal. Although there was something about her, some power... she was what he would call a witch. Sort of superhuman, from what he could gather. Very interesting. It almost took his mind of the pain of his regenerating flesh. At least, for a few moments.

"Do you know where I am, Toph?"

A simple slip, but he hated doing stuff like that. Normally, the only people he revealed his mind-reading ability to, other than other vampires, were his victims. He didn't normally terrify people for no reason. He was still shaken from almost dying, and from being brought here. It was the only explanation. He was going to have to watch that.