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After surprisingly settling the matter with the Spirit of the Mask without much incident, the unlikely pair trudge back to their quarters, the Tenchi Clinic. Saito had been hurt by the harsh accomplishment of one of his conditions with the Elemental, but the damage did not seem to be crippling; still, the duo were convinced that they should mostly retire for the night. Furthermore, there were questions, and their requisite answers, to be traded between the two, and perhaps the safety of a home would make a better stage for such banter...
Monday, January 10th 10:15 P.M.
"We are here, that we are, Saito-s... Saito."
Belatedly he remembered to stop putting the suffix besides the boy's name. He sighed a little at this little fault; he promised he would get down this 'casual talking' bit, very soon. Still, that was the least of the waterbender's concerns.
He was a few steps before the clinic's caretaker, so he took upon himself the responsibility of unlocking, and thus opening, the door. The youth looked like he was in pain (though there was that stubborn glint in his eyes that prevented Remiel from assisting him further besides accompanying him), and indeed he had allowed the youngster's shambling to control their pace as they made their way back; it was just now that he took the lead.
The boy... had said they would discuss things in length here, rather than whilst they were walking, and so the white-haired psychic had been mostly silent during their happily uneventful procession. After a floating Mask which contained a possibly malevolent Spirit, he was not sure the two of them could handle some other oddity. True, they both were probably ready for those sorts of eventualities, but Saito's bruise might make for a weakness in the heat of battle. Besides... there were other nights... for the answers he sought there, outside; after all, there was the promise of answers here, inside, too.
That did not necessarily mean he was going to prod the youth, though... whenever he was ready... so it was that he did not bring it up, just yet...
He stepped inside, turned on the lights, and waited until his companion entered likewise... as soon as he did he would shut the door.
"Is there anything that you would need, Saito, that you would?"
And so the battle was over, ending it with only a bang. The Mask slumbered on in stasis. One would wonder when it would awaken again. Only time could tell. In the end of it all, both of them now know they belong in the same similar worlds of mysticism and the supernatural.
Now they stumble (at least Saito) back to the Clinic to discuss...
Monday, January 10th 10:15 P.M.
Saito scowled slightly at the pain that continued to beleaguer his chest on every step of the way. But he continued on with slow progress with Remiel in tow, crossing each intersection and turning nooks of the dimly lit streets. It only took minutes to arrive back to his humble clinic, windows obviously darkened from the lack of electricity actively running to provide light.
The onmyouji handed the keys to Remiel, bidding his tenant to unlock the door for him to allow himself some time to "nurse" his new bruise. The mechanism clicked once the key turned. The door creaked open as Remiel held it open for him. The opening revealed the darkness that filled his very abode, obscuring every detail from his eye sight.
"Thanks," he muttered accordingly while proceeding inside.
He shuffled inside the dark crevices of his own home, the heavy odor of incense still apparent inside. The light flickered on with the switch snapped to allow the flow of electricity run through its circuits.
The illumination only revealed the small part of the entrance, where only pairs of forgotten shoes lay about in this small square of a genkan connected to the threshold of the glass doors. But anything farther remained in inconspicuous darkness.
The onmyouji kicked off his shoes, dismissing them at one corner without any care. Looking back, he silently gestured Remiel to follow inside. The door would close, shutting out the outside air of the city. The smell of herbs would return to its overwhelming glory once the opening was shut.
He walked up onto the higher wooden floor in his socks to reach behind the corner of a wall. More lights flickered on to reveal the rest of the clinic. A reception room revealed itself with a number of chairs huddling against the walls with a small painting framed against the wall.
Slowly, Saito walked over to one of the chairs and plopped down tiredly on its cushioning. He groaned audibly with one hand still massaging the spot behind his shirt as his back slumped back for better comfort while the other still held the Mask. To answer the foreigner's question...
His massaging hand was held out towards his tenant with a terse note, "Just my keys, Remiel."
He followed the example of the clinic's caretaker as he had entered, albeit with slightly more respect, as he could afford to: he was not the one who was impaired. He freed himself of his sandals as they came upon the entrance, as was only proper in the customs of this land, touching the floor with his bare feet.
The smell of a variety of herbs and incense and whatever aromatic components there were that were being used in this place came to welcome them as they did so... it was something that he would have to be used to, if Saito was going to allow him to continue being here.
Once inside, the openings locked, the lights opened, the procession returned to the way it was before they neared the clinic; the younger male leading, if but a little slowly, and the elder one following, at a pace to match the shambling of the pained.
From the doors they came upon the reception room, a sight that Remiel had already taken in when Saito had welcomed him, mere hours before. Who knew they would be participating in markedly abnormal events, afterwards? Then again, the Moonlit World had its tricks, and whilst there was a normal side to these two individuals, it might not be entirely incorrect to say they were abnormal, as well.
Reaching the rows of chairs usually meant for clients waiting to be serviced, the boy had taken the chance to recline upon one of the seats; again, Remiel followed his example in a general manner, his descent not as aggrieved. The acupuncture practitioner was still going at it, and he hoped the youngster's ministrations were doing him some good.
He asked for his keys; he would have them; he could have asked for more... well, not that he knew where food or drink were in this place, at least not yet intimately. He rose a little from his seat; he would have wanted to try that throwing and catching keys like he saw once in that machine the people of this era called a television, but he divined that Saito might not appreciate the antics after all they had been through this evening... and so he merely gave the keys by hand, his seat not far from his host's.
"So... shall we begin, that we shall?" With our little confessions, that we shall?
"Or... perhaps it would be better if you rested in your room, Saito... that it would be..." We could always talk about all this in another time, that we could, he implied, although the psychic would admittedly be unsatisfied if this would be the case. Still, his juvenile acquaintance's condition made him concerned...
The metal jangled into Saito's palm as he accepted the keys back into his hand. It jangled once more as he pocketed back inside the folds of his jean's pocket. He patted against the bulge that is made from the chiseled shape of the key, as if to reassure himself it would be inside. The onmyouji sighed to let out the compressed emotions of that festered from the bruise and the nerve-wracking events of the Mask. He brought back his head to rest it on some invisible headrest while the bones crackled from the movement.
His hand meandered to his side in order to place the Mask onto one of the nearby night tables. The katana followed the corporeal body by leaning against the edge of the table in a slant as a shadow cast nearby.
Saito brought back his head from rest to see Remiel reminding him about their connections to that night. The night where normal logic was thoroughly massacred into pieces with the presence of the Inhuman. It was about time they would talk about it. Who had really thought it would take only one night to reveal their identities? The world is indeed a strange place no matter where you are...
A sigh escaped him again before breathing in again to refresh his lungs with the herbal-tainted air. Slowly the pain was receding, taking his mind off from its tyranny.
"I'm fine. We can talk here, Remiel," the onmyouji waved a lazy hand to dismiss such concerns, "I suppose I can start from here then. Just give me a minute to think how I'll start."
He remained silent with eyes shut to shy his eyesight away from the light, re-enacting some sort of darkened void in his presence to enhance his mental processes. The memories of California. His history in Japan... All of it were being reorganized as the neurons in his brains continued to shoot out all electrical signals to each other.
He finally spoke with eyes open towards Remiel's expectant face, "Well... I guess the easiest thing to say about me is that I'm a magus."
There was a pause, waiting for the silver-head to digest the new information for those silent moments before continuing.
"I'd be classified as a Japanese Onmyouji. Those exorcist shamans and stuff. You saw how I was doing with that Mask... Crap, I must say. I couldn't have done it without ya, Remiel."
Saito looked upon his tenant with gratitude and nodded down his head in a bow.
Speaking softly, "I appreciate the help. I really do."
"Well... this one could not have done it without Saito, that this one could not." he cheerily interjected, or as cheerily as he could be without contrasting too much to the weariness of his companion.
While he understood that secrecy was a necessary precaution against the twists and turns of the Moonlit World (he had had learned this lesson the hard way more than once), the eccentric nomad was always happy to be forthright. To be so meant sharing information, at least from his end, and it seemed this time, with the boy who was supposedly a shaman, that there was knowledge to be had from the opposite end, as well, which may be a clue, or a tool, to the knowledge that he sought... the knowledge of the outside for the knowledge of the inside... the knowledge of the World for the knowledge of the self. It sounded a bit philosophical, but it was also literal for Remiel.
"A magus, that you are, huh... this one is not very sure what an onmyouji does, that this one is not... but 'exorcist shamans' conjures a succinct image, that it does." he continued, completing his reaction.
So it was indeed his business to deal with Spirits like the one that resided in the Mask? Then again, it looked like that particular Entity was out of his league, whether because of an expertise still budding (which was nothing to be displeased about; some magi who were trained from birth have rather horrible circumstances, or so he had heard) or that the Spirit was simply of a wildly different type or power level than expected.
So... was the youngster feeling a little down that he had not handled it better? He had already tried to be reassuring with his first statement... "Well, the situation was... a little larger than could have been handled alone, that it was. It turned out all good in the end, that it did." he added. It was the past, and the only thing that one could do with it was to learn from it.
At least Saito had plenty of past to review. It was at this point, influenced by the flow of his speech, that Remiel thought he should inquire about the specifics about the African Elemental and the events surrounding It... "It sounded like Saito had met the Mask before, that it did. It was there that Saito had his energy stolen, that was it? How---" ...until he realized he had not paid back the requisite confidence, yet.
"Uh... this one was supposed to tell about oneself, that this one was?" he sheepishly asked, rhetorically. "What this one had told Saito was true, that it was. This one is an amnesiac, that this one is... and then, as you might have surmised, something more..." He decided he had babbled long enough, and actions would speak better than words.
He uncorked one of his bottles and began his little procedure.
Construct the parafractal hexagon.
Enclose the water, the medium, within the imaginary object.
He willed into inflexible reality his simplest spell-like technique, a singular movement of water: Flood. The water rose from the container and formed into a sphere, floating in mid-air, swung in a rough circle, and then returned, without a drop out of place, into its container.
"This one was told that this one was, supposedly... a psychic, that this one was. Although... this one was also told that this one's abilities resembled those of a mage, that this one was."
"Oh, and this one could tell people's emotions if they have skin contact, that this one could." he added, almost as an afterthought.
"Oh, now you're kissing ass!" Saito smiled in his mock disapproval towards Remiel's return statement, "But hell, if that's how you want it, sure."
Regardless of his outward appearance, the onmyouji could only feel disgruntled at his incapability. Depending on someone for help even in his age... was ever truly disheartening. The Mask had shown his ever endless amount of inexperience and made him feel even smaller...
"...Looks like I gotta start hauling ass now, huh?"
It only meant he just had to get better.
He nodded at Remiel's full comprehension of his own "class" among the magi's fold of things. For an amnesiac, his lack of knowledge on the variety of magi, was totally expected in every way. After all, this was the guy who didn't even know who Jesus Christ was from the very start.
Saito frowned a tad impatiently with brows wrinkled.. Not that because Remiel was dominating this whole conversation to focus on more about the onmyouji (though he did start to turn it towards the other direction). It was more like the thought of the Mask's own antics towards him that slightly incensed him.
But he raised a curious eyebrow at the foreigner's cryptic words. Silence was his answer as he waited for the silver-head to perform whatever paranormal ability he possessed.
A bottle was uncorked. So there was a reason why he brought those around. Why--?
Saito's thought processes froze at the sight, his expression devolve into a pensive side.
It floated in a spherical form as it defied the laws of gravity. Magic? No... This was different... There had to be an lorica. An incantation for the defiance of reason. He continued to watch the simple-like process as the water sphere floated about before returning inside the depths of the bottle.
A psychic. That's what Remiel is and had now just stated. A human who is also capable of defying reality. No wonder.
Saito finally spoke in a awkward manner, "Well I be damned... This is the first time I met a psychic."
His eyes stuck themselves onto the bottle, as if expecting more was to be done. Yet, they suddenly stuck back onto Remiel as if to fully devour every bit of his self to finally comprehend his existence.
The onmyouji sighed as if all the weight has been displaced off his shoulders, "Well... I guess we know who each of us are. That emotion ability of yours seems useful. Water is really fitting..."
He cryptically trailed off to stare back at the bottle again before continuing.
"About the Mask. He possessed me while I was sleeping and went crazy. So I just had to make things right. So that's how things just came out how it is and then you came in..."
"Kissing... ass, that it is?" he muttered, not really sure what his conversation partner meant, but it seemed it was not meant in displeasure, so he did not worry too much about it.
"Hauling ass... does that have something to do with that, too, that it does?" He did not understand wholly the boy's expressions, but assumed they must be meant figuratively, considering that he did not know any reason why somebody would literally kiss or haul the butts of any persons, unless one factors in some very improbable scenarios.
"Ah... this one is making a fool of himself, that this one is, is it not?" he self-consciously commented, smiling sheepishly. Still, from the way he said it, it seemed to mean that he had to do better next time or something.
And then there was his little presentation. It was not meant to be a full showcase of his powers, but merely to demonstrate their working principle: the movement of water.
Unfortunately his emotion sensing could not be presented in the same way; he did not need touch to know what was flitting about in the heart of the youth... exhaustion from the ordeal, relief in that it had found a settling point, a certain amicability in his presence... and something he appreciated very much, curiosity.
"Fitting?" He somewhat wished he could have asked in more detail, but then he was tired... "This... empathy that this one has... this one remembers bending water to his will, but not this sensing... that this one does." Implication: it might just be connected to this one's amnesia in the first place, that it might be. That had been Remiel's first working clue, though admittedly it had not brought him far... and there was always the chance he simply did not manage to hold on to the memories of when he acquired or developed the spiritual nerve.
The white-haired wanderer was about to say something more, but then his query about the Mask was answered. It was a short summary, but he knew that the experience, even if, now that it was over and being talked about, seemed condensed... Remiel knew it must have been harrowing. To not be oneself, to have someone else on the controls... somehow, he felt that he knew something about that, with a stab of dread.
"This one wishes he could have intervened earlier..." he trailed off, "...but at the very least this one was not so late, that this one was." he continued, with a small dash of melancholy that seemed slightly uncharacteristic to the airy, flippant nature he had sported ever since meeting Saito.
Having reacted accordingly, Remiel decided he would go back to what was remaining... of what he had wanted to say. "This one's disconnection from the past..." he began, "...this one believes that it might be due to something supernatural, that this one does." He paused. "From the... smattering... the fragments of memories this one retains... this one must have dealt with beings of the otherworld before, that this one must have."
The conversation was becoming awfully awkward as the confused Remiel picked up on common terms and phrases with careful attention. Saito's expression grew more visibly strained as he had realized he had forgotten how the Psychic was so seemingly deprived of the most common knowledge the world had to offer. This was starting to be a pain at this rate, with such awkwardness that would stilt the conversation away from the very purpose for this time. The silence between he and his tenant was becoming slightly excruciating.
"Ah... this one is making a fool of himself, that this one is, is it not?" the silverette was obviously embarrassed with his ignorance, already retreating away from the topic as soon as possible.
"Don't worry about it," he suddenly waved his hand back and forth of the matter, "It's not that important. I guess."
The conversation would continue on with laboring advance. But with his tenant's awfully respectful and queer diction, it was still difficult to immediately catch on what he was saying. Especially to the point that Saito looked at him with paused scrutiny like a foreigner trying to keep up with a language he has just learned.
"This one wishes he could have intervened earlier... but at the very least this one was not so late, that this one was."
The young onmyouji snorted at the statement. How silly of him, being all overly humble when his presence has certainly helped dramatically. Who knew what would've happened if he weren't there. But this humbleness wasn't that much of a bad thing...
He interjected with a grim grin and a disagreement, "Nah, man. You came at the right possible time. Hell, you coming in was simply good luck. So don't worry about it. None of us got hurt. So let bygones be bygones."
But even so. He had to rely on someone else for this job. The rule of being an Onmyouji had a strong emphasis of being self-efficient. And just then he had broken that rule. Again, the thought of not being able to do anything... still bothered him.
"This one's disconnection from the past..." Saito's ears perked up from his own self to hear Remiel continue,"... this one must have dealt with beings of the otherworld before, that this one must have. That is why this one has come here, that it is."
He didn't answer the silverette immediately. There was still the difficulty in picking apart the foreigner's diction to much easily understand him. But so far, it seemed as if he was saying he had these experiences and that is why he came here to the dark city of vampires. Misaki.
"Well, Remiel," he began as he leisurely reclined further on the chair with his body drooping further down, "I'm not sure what to do for you since you got no leads at the moment. But, hey. If you got any let me know. I think I got someone who can help you out. You just gotta find a lead. That's all."
Bit short... sorry. Couldn't think of anything else.
[smear:92a5a9]Want an avocado?[/smear:6f7b84]
Word Count: 505
Template made by: [smear:BF8F00]Kotomine Kirei + Lunactic Inferno[/smear:805F00]@ Blue Heaven/Aoiro Joukai
The fumbling tenant needed not to touch his conversation partner to tell that things were becoming more and more lugubrious as the minutes went by. Saito had allowed him to explain his side even after all that they had gone through earlier this evening, and perhaps the fatigue was starting to take its toll on his comrade; that was one factor.
Then, well... the psychic was aware that his ignorance and his manner of speech, besides being outdated, was grating for some... that was another factor. The young mage said he did not have to worry about it, but he could not stop himself. Having to comprehend something while tired must be a discomfort, and knowing that he was a cause for discomfort made Remiel uncomfortable too.
However he couldn't just drop it... he just couldn't let it go... it felt like something important, something essential, to who he was, even if it was something small like a manner of speech. It was a clue... he just didn't know how so, yet. (He had considered, once, if maybe there was some way he had come from a long-ago period, although all the few experts in the supernatural he had conversed with thought that highly unlikely. Still, improbable was not impossible... or maybe he was just from some terribly traditional old family... though that did not jive well with, well, his appearance.)
Still, all the things that have to be brought up seemed to have been done so; his nature, and Saito's situation, and all the most salient details within and between those two topics. Perhaps further tidbits still lay waiting to be excavated with dialogue and brainstorming, but there had been enough revelations for this night. He had expressed his certainties and his doubts. They were not strangers, mostly acquaintances, fatefully associates... for now. Further discussion was forthcoming, but perhaps, more in the daylight hours.
"This one might have... a few leads, that this one might have." he admitted. There were some memories he had managed to get from introspection, and then from similar circumstances, and then, sometimes, a mixture of both. "Although... this one might still need to..." he did not know how to say it in a simpler way... "...make it clearer... that this one does."
"This one would tell Saito more, that this one would, but it seems that the young master..." here he sneaked a little chuckle, "...is starting to be more and more... indisposed, that he seems to be." And... well. He might not be as exhausted as the boy, what with his physique and without the stress that the onmyouji must have shouldered hunting the Mask... but slumber was calling, whispering, inevitably. "This one is, a little bit too, that this one is. Sleepy." he confessed, smiling. He rose from his place, shaking his limbs a little.
"We could continue this business tomorrow, or whenever it is convenient to you, Saito, that we could?"
"By your leave then, Saito, this one bids you good night, that this one does."
Saito was going to ask what leads Remiel possessed at his disposal as soon as the words left his tenant's lips. But then a yawn interrupted and escaped him, making it entirely obvious the endeavor and the night tired the onmyouji. And he surely wasn't alone as the influence of sleep was evidently showing on the Psychic.
"Yeah. It's been a crazy night I guess..." another yawn interrupted him, "...I guess we can call it a night. We still got tomorrow at least. I'm going to lock the doors. You go on ahead. Good night, Remiel."
With his hand grasping the Mask in hand, Saito gestured the foreigner a good night with a silent wave. Taking out the keys in his pockets, he started to lock the clinic doors up with each click uttered from the lock tightening. Lights that had been on is now switched off as his silhouette disappeared into the halls.
Saito was back inside of his room, the darkness greeted him as he opened the door. The lights flashed back on for the sake of visibility, causing his eyes to blink at the sudden stimuli. With a sigh, he took the Mask and laid it back to the desk where it had belonged. It looked utterly lifeless as it just lay there on the wood.
The hollow eyes caused him to shudder up the spine as the flashback of the event earlier seemingly filled those eyes with a scarlet angry red. He blinked again to bring himself back to the reality of the quiet small room of white... and started to dress for slumber.
With the lights off for one last time, the day has already ended.
OOC: Yeah, it's a bit short. But it's pretty much the end of the thread. So yeah, this is done.
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