Tales of Atonement

In the darkness of Atone, Mairtin keeps his wits about him. Julia is somewhere in the city, but where? Stepping into the Legends and Lore, he keeps his head low except for a careful glance about in search of the person he is looking for, to no avail. Abandoning his search for the moment, he seats himself at the bar and glances up and down for a moment. No server… Hope he’s just out, not dead… Putting a few coins into the box on the bar, he takes from the self-serve selection; a bottle of elderberry wine and also a glass. Just a little refreshment. So far, it’s a good day; no one’s recognized me, or no one cares. It’s then that an oddly familiar sensation tickles the back of his mind. Turning towards the door, he can see a figure dressed in a brown cloak slipping into the tavern. At first he doesn’t recognize them, but when they lift the hood back and away from their face, the resemblance is uncanny, and his earlier conversation with Drego hits him like a rock. Those long black waves, striking green eyes, creamy skin… There’s no way! Ducking his eyes away, he frowns deeply to himself. Atone is a place of many evils, and shape shifters and mind-readers are among them. Who’s to say one of them hasn’t sensed that his long lost love has been on his mind lately? Better to just avoid it. Damnit… as much as I hate to admit it… Walking up to the bar; a mere few seats away from him, the dark haired vixen squints her eyes as she peers around the bar. Spying into the back room, she then blinks before looking down while leaning far over the wooden counter and gasps before pushing herself back down and dashing around to the back. “This man is injured! Does anyone else know how to heal??” When she gets no answer, she yells louder, attempting to pull the middle-aged man’s shirt away from his bloodied trunk. “Please?? I don’t think I can do it alone!” Closing his eyes, Mairtin sighs to himself. That’s one thing he had been afraid of. Enough time in Atone teaches someone to never look behind the bar counter. But the other thing it teaches, is that even shape shifters and mind-readers don’t go into this much elaborate detail. Either this was indeed the woman he had spent years searching for, or someone of a similar nature, voice, and also a remarkable resemblance. Keeping his eyes down, he grumbles. “I would, but there’s probably no point. This is Atone; the man’s dead already…” “Why the hell would you bother anyway??” Another man asks from within the crowd of tables. “There’ll be another one soon enough, I’m sure.” A woman laughs, her white hair trailing down over a much-too-revealing dress. She isn’t elderly, which gives her an ethereal presence among the group. Gritting her teeth a moment as she looks down at the man, the woman closes her pale green eyes and utters a prayer before standing and shaking her head. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Were none of you here when he died?” As the room grows quiet, but not in shame or mourning; more akin to the still before a storm, a young-looking man scoffs as he stands off of his leaned position against the far wall. “Lady, where do you think you are? Kansas?” Hesitating as she comes from around the back of the bar, she sighs and replies simply. “…I don’t know. I just got here… wandered here, actually. I’ve been wandering around out in what someone told me is called ‘The Wastes’ for what seemed like months…from off to the east.” Doing the math in his head, Mairtin’s face suddenly falls. If he’s right, it would mean they both arrived at around the same time, only a matter of several hundred miles apart. To think that a decade long search, spanned even across the weird time rupture that he had endured to come from the 1300s to the 2500s. He says nothing but closes his eyes, putting a hand back through his hair as he hangs his head. Don’t get attacked… please… “Well this…” The black haired young male says as he steps towards her, uncrossing his arms, “is the great city of Atone. Once known as the last stronghold for man, it’s now been completely overrun.” Stopping in front of her, he flares his trench coat back to allow himself to slip his hands into his pants pockets. “Hm…I must say, the scent coming off of you is almost...intoxicating.” “The scent coming off you is almost toxic. Let the lady breathe.” Mairtin says quickly, the Atonian officially breeching his comfort level with the distance between him and the woman in question. Turning quickly, the dark clad man scans the bar, seeking the origin of the outburst before narrowing his eyes in on Mairtin. “How ‘bout you mind your own business… before you say something you’ll regret.” Lightening with a gentle chuckle, he then states simply. “I’m merely being…helpful. This city will eat a pretty, fresh young thing like her alive.” “Present company included.” Mairtin quips smartly. I’ve already gone this far. Unless he’s got friends, but then I’ve gotten pretty good at escaping in those cases. “Be fair, the person who killed this man is probably still in this room. Wouldn’t be your handiwork would it?” the statement comes across as a mock compliment, though he still doesn’t actually turn to look at the man, or his would-be prey. Gaining a droll expression, the man actually scoffs before stating plainly. “Actually, no. That guy over there has the honor of taking out this hour’s bartender. Now if you’ll kindly shut-the-hell-up…” he grunts, turning back to Madelyn who now furrows her brow, shifting the bow on her back slightly. “Oh don’t pay any mind to him. He’s like one of Atone’s old ghosts at this point. He just won’t take the hint and die already.” He laughs, making the raven haired woman squint her eyes distastfully. “That’s a horrible thing to say to anyone.” “Point taken.” he replies, but offers no recant before leaning in towards her, making her lean back slightly. “You certainly are virtuous…haven’t smelled that in a long time. Tell me ma’am; do you have any idea what this city was overrun by?” Gritting his teeth, Mairtin slowly slips out of the barstool, with his back still to them. His knowledge of Atone tells him by the man’s words, he is quickly approaching a moment that he will descend on Madelyn; which is not something he can allow. With his long leather coat covering his outfit, he is able to reach within and put his hand squarely on his family’s heirloom weapon. “I may refuse to die, but it’s more courage than the lot who have abandoned their humanity to undeath.” “Oh now you went and ruined the punch line.” The man grunts, turning his pallid face toward Madelyn before offering her a toothy grin; complete with obvious ,vampiric fangs. “Looks like I’ll have to do this without class after all. I’ll handle him after I have a snack.” He states, starting to lunge toward her before stumbling back with a soft sound when her knee quickly strikes between his legs, followed by her dark wooden bow, which slams into the back of his neck, causing him to fall to the floor. “My god, what sort of demon are you!?” She asks in astonishment before her eyes are drawn up towards the table nearest where the man had been standing. A man and a woman sit at the table, and the other man now stands. “Now why’d you have to go and do that? Figures this would somehow be your fault.” The white haired young man sneers, turning his eyes towards Mairtin. “How many times do we have to kill you before you get the hint-clue? Or is it that bitch of a witch that won’t stop bringing you back?” “Teine.” He speaks in an ancient Scottish Gaelic tongue, drawing his sword from it’s sheathe in a wreath of fire as he turns, finally, to face the vampire man. “A bunch of boastful liars. I’ve yet to meet my end by anyone in these walls.” “…Mairtin?” Madelyn asks, taking a step towards him before the white haired man seems to virtually appear between them, all but towering over her five-foot-six form.