Upon Starless Moons (Open)

[Lt. Hanazawa]

Nighttime cast a dark shadow upon the figure in the shadows, having blended his outfit perfectly with his surroundings, a forest green tunic worn over a tan undershirt, and camouflage pants. Narrowed eyes darted back and fourth as the man moved through the forest, slicing yet another branch aside with his blade as he looked on, three figures he would see in the darkness. Watching them he crouched there a moment. "What is this..." He muttered as he looked on. Grasping the hilt of his blade he shook his head. "I'm dying to refill my canteen.. but what if those three men are hostiles.." He said, the crunch of a twig heard under his boot as he moved to hide behind yet another piece of foliage. He could hear them speak, names mentioned. Grasping the stock of his pistol he would wait, thinking to himself. "Wait.. I shouldn't try to use this.. I only got a few magazines left... I need to conserve ammunition." He thought to himself, but he figured he would toss all caution to the wind and come out into plain sight, darting for the waters edge as he dipped his canteen into the water, still watching the three figures through a painted face, painted green and black to match his tunic and pants, foilage and leaves stuffed in his helmet bands as he slowly waited and watched for their response. Betting to himself that it could turn hostile.

[Silvarn]

Helion hung on Sukuro's every word, enraptured by the eloquence. At the mention of the word, Helion felt the tension melt a little, and the soothing scent did away with the rest. "Lilac," Helion sighed contently, "my favorite." Making sure not to catch his clerical robes under him, he sat on the ground.

Tristan, ever the watchful, staggered to stand close behind his ward, swaying slightly, a half-dazed look plastered on his otherwise serious face. "Helion," he began, "Something doesn't feel right." Perhaps it was his own impervious wariness or the magic of the lilacs cutting through Helion's own, but his gut told him he still needed to be on his toes around this Fallen.

Then came the unmistakable sound of twig snapping. Under other circumstances, Tristan would have dismissed it as a wild animal; but, in the present scenario, he knew to be more careful.

His blue-steel blade glittered in the chill moonlight an instant later, the scrape against its scabbard cutting through the daze-inducing scent of lilac. His face livid, his blade at the ready, diving the distance between Sokuro and the source of the sound, he growled fiercely at the Fallen, "Brought along friends, did you?"

Helion gazed up at Sokuro in shock and disbelief, his aether-blue eyes fairly glowing with sorrow.

[Sokuro]

Sokuro's composure had held as calm and seemingly distant as Helion took his seat, though moved none himself. "Wonderful, seems I am n---" Sokuro's ears snapped just as Tristan's did, and in reflex of his own, his wings loosened, threatening to span in full. Almost missing Tristan's quickly drawn blade, Sokuro turned on his right heel and dug his toes into the soft soil beneath them, causing the tip of Tristan's sword to glance over Sokuro's shoulder and wing- Though unexpected, Sokuro's eyes remained on the nearby shore and the haunched over man, his eyes narrowing as he spoke, in little more than a whisper. "How many times must I tell you, I have no ill intent here." With a nod in the direction of this new-coming man, Sokuro tensed both hands beneath their veil. "Though this one's shady approach may suggest otherwise."

The wound inflicted to Sokuro's shoulder, however subtle it may be, let forth only a stronger scent of Lilac that wafted along the shores ever more with each passing breeze. A near luminescent crimson seeped from the injured wing, that seemed almost to pulse in hue with the rhythm of a -humans- own heart.

[Silvarn]

Helion's head snapped up as Tristan's blade emerged, the enchantment of the lilac-scent broken. His wide, aether-blue eyes kept a steady gaze on Sokuro, almost as if to ask, "Why? We trusted you..."

Then Helion noticed the other person, and could sense Sokuro had no attachment to him. Indeed, Helion could feel no attachments toward this person. That is not to say he did not feel compassion toward him -- this was an integral part of Helion's personality -- instead, he felt no chains of affection surrounding this man.

Then the scent of the lilac hit him again like a catapult load. He was literally knocked to the ground, the scent completely overpowering. All he could smell was lilac. Even his vision began tinting itself purple. He felt more than saw Tristan collapse to a sitting position next to him, the blade limp in his grasp.

Helion stared up at the stars, watching as they blossomed into little flowers, showering them with purple dust. He smiled like an idiot, his eyes slowly glazing over.

"Helion, we can't..." Tristan choked out, before falling back onto the grass, his eyes utterly vacant.

It took all his energy, but Helion turned his head to look at Tristan's prone form, and found himself looking into eyes that might as well have belonged to a dead man's.

The incense of the lilac burned away as a small, bright fire flared into life in Helion's heart. His head painfully groggy and his limbs useless from being numb, he staggered to his ill-adept feet. Still, despite his drunken appearance, a forceful fire of conviction burned in his powerfully blue eyes. "Whatever it is you are doing -- stop it." the last two words echoed across the lake.

[Sokuro]

Sokuro's attention was brought quickly back to the two men beside him as his eyes gleamed almost as though they were mirror images of Luna herself. Realizing at last that he'd taken a wound from Tristan's blade, Sokuro's right hand snapped up to cover the wound as he muttered a single word that barely broke a whisper... "Release."

Almost as the two men were slammed with a hot wind, the scent wafted away, giving sight to ethereal petals that danced along the lake's surface, dancing with Lady Luna's nightlong kisses. Before long, their senses would clear as well as their minds-- Though Sokuro lingered not a moment longer. "A pleasure good Sir's, may Lady Luna bless you." Turning on a heel and with hastened pace, Sokuro began to move down the shoreline, though it seemed with little intent to stop... Odd, however.. that such a small wound would bleed so profusely, as to leave a trail behind him; Where each droplet of blood met sand it would seem night-lotus crept into bloom.... Just what was he?