Description: What does it mean to be alive, and what does it mean to die? Two people meet: one to whom death is old hat, and another to whom death is a new adventure. In the end, violence is forestalled by discussion, and at least one of these men leaves with a renewed sense of purpose.
It was a full moon tonight.
The dim light of the evening casts long shadows across the rooftops of Le Sentier in Paris. Long the heart of fabric and fashion within the city, it was quiet so late in the evening. Not even common criminals dared to slip out, in the wake of the disappearances... and the violence ripping apart the world now.
Still, not all criminals are common.
On top of one of the rooftops, standing alone, was a cloaked figure. His frame was swirling cloth, the tattered tendrils of his ragged cape fluttering in the wind. It could only be a boy, a mere teenager. Body lean, hair a curious combination of half black, half white. The teenager was looking out at the streets, hands deep within his cloak. This was not the first time he was Paris.
That was what he was briefed on, at least.
He had come to retrieve Isolde. But it was a mission aborted in the womb. Angel, another one of his co-agents, had taken care of it for him. Whenever a sister stepped in to resolve crisises like that, it was always an event of both joy and deep shame. And yet, the boy felt neither. It was just an event. A moment in time. After all, what would it be to him the next? In due time, they will find another mission for him. He will obey.
And quite likely, he would die again.
Sleep is very strange. We close our eyes and sometimes we enter the murky, barely-perceptible world of dreams, but in general sleeping is a bit like ceasing to be and then resuming existence again later. It's an experience human beings probably take for granted, all things considered, and all the moreso because it is a literally necessary function for existence. Even if your body didn't need rest, it's very likely your mind would. Cognition, awareness... eventually everyone needs a break.
Currently, Frei is kind of taking a permanent break, if you get the meaning.
The last time he was seen on this earth, it was giving a bittersweet farewell to Dr. Tran, the friend who didn't always seem like a friend. Whatever trinket Magaki possessed had some strange effect on the... whatever it is that Frei is now, since 'alive human being' is off the list. By the time the pair had vanquished the pink-skinned One from the Past, Frei's energy had either been spent or taken, and he faded from existence, perhaps expecting to have his final rest.
And then, now?
It's not clear what the nature of Nameless's supernatural abilities are, given the way that NESTS toys with the very fabric of what makes a person. But if he has any sort of attunement at all, he probably feels what's about to happen starting well before there's any mundane sensory indicator one way or another. The muggy air that fires and weather have created in this apocalyptic city suddenly starts to grow more bearable, even escalating to a cool breeze. And then there's a swirling of... something. A vaguely luminous wind, spinning into a broad, shallow whorl of light in a far corner of the roof, away from Nameless, that eventually resolves into the somewhat transparent form of a human being floating mere inches above the ground. The figure becomes more and more 'solid' until, eventually, something recognizable as Frei floats there before gently settling down on the roof, eyes closed.
Something has surfaced.
The teenager does not react to the change of energy. He simply continues to stare out into the midnight sky, down into the streets below. As the winds change, the motes of light dance behind him, the only response is that the cloak twists and dances with its arrival. By the time the humanoid form complete manifests, the cloak ceases its writhing, its dancing to invisible winds.
And he turns.
A sweep of his arm. A twirl of his cloak. The tattered tendrils swim and dance around the boy as he turns around. His arms were revealed now. Underneath that cloak was leather pants, a leather top. The uniform of a NESTS Assassin, as tasteless as it might be. On one hand, a glove of black synthetic material. The other? Icy quicksilver, cold mist rising from it. The boy looks through the darkness, focusing intently on the intruder that had broken his concentration.
The teenager's expression is otherwise blank.
Slowly, green eyes open. By the time Frei is actually aware and paying attention, Nameless is already facing him. The uniform is unmistakable, as is that sudden and specific feeling that all those with powers similar to Kyo Kusanagi's produce and that Frei has -- through repeated exposure -- become way way too adept at noticing.
Let's just say it doesn't send him to the most pleasant emotional place, for the understatement of the year.
Even just his own memories of Frei's most infamous run-in with the NESTS Cartel are bad enough: seeing over 20 perfect copies of himself step out of a machine specially built to exploit their abilities and power an invasion of Southtown that had hurt not only Frei's friends, but countless innocents as well. Then there was the moment where Frei was forced to kill his own clone, watching a collapsing building slowly crush them to death. But beyond that, as he is now, he finds that his own memories aren't the ONLY memories he has of that moment. There's a good chance that those clones became some sort of memory of the planet as well, when they died... not living on, but certainly part of whatever greater thing Frei is a manifestation of, now. And so memories that were third-person are suddenly first person. The feeling of being crushed by a falling building is enough; their regret and sorrow for being used as tools of destruction is far worse.
He is a peaceful person, but it's hard not to let his hand clench into a fist, relax, and then clench again, over and over, for a moment or two.
When he finds his equilibrium at last, the jade-eyed sage looks Nameless straight in the face and asks, in a quiet voice, "Why are you here?"
The boy had no memories of Frei.
The NESTS assassin approaches Frei. He walks to the spirit, the ghost, the dead man. A dead man. The teenager turns to his right, choosing now to circle around the intruder counter-clockwise. His blank stare was locked on to the man, as he takes every deliberate step. When Frei finally asks him, he takes his time before he answers, tone utterly flat.
"For peace."
He lashes out his quicksilver'd hand, changing directions, turning his encircling to clockwise. Holding up his hand, the glove begins to shudder. Icy energy floods into it, molding it, seperating it. Frei could sense that something else was controlling the glove, independent of the teenager. Another living spirit, a soul trapped within that glove. But that was not the only thing trapped underneath there. Surges of raw chi, familiar chi, only barely restrained within that glove.
The Kusanagi flame.
"Why have you disturbed me?" The teenager asks flatly. Puffs of steam burst from the glove, dispersing quickly in the night air. The cloak was also springing to life, chi energies flowing from the teenager's body and coarsing through his clothing. He stops his circling, holding the gloved hand up, palm facing away from Frei. He commands the intruder, voice cold.
"I will kill if you don't answer."
Kill him?
In spite of himself, that line brings a smile to Frei's face. The red-haired man looks remarkably youthful given his age, and that age has not had a '1' in the tens digit for some time now. Yet curiously, the last decade of his life has been disproportionately filled with youth, working at the YFCC as he did. But now, perhaps, he is a little more reflective about both 1.) age and 2.) being alive or not.
He can't keep his eyes from straying to the young man's glove, though, but with a very curious air indeed. The energy of an actual PERSON in there is unmistakable and very, very strange. And he's standing here, on a high point, overlooking the destruction of Paris, trying to _peace_?
Oh lord.
"I don't," Frei says, in a genuine apologietc tone, "actually know. And as for killing me, you're certainly welcome to try." He does not add: someone kinda beat you to it.
Dead or alive, it was not important to the boy.
Life and death were so transient to the teenager, that it barely held any reflection for it. Just like the destruction of Paris, it was nothingness. All means to an end. If his superiors wished for him to throw himself off this roof to further the causes of NESTS, he would do it. And yet, what did it mean for him? What value was there in his own life, that was owned by him?
Only Isolde was a choice he could live for.
He didn't know. The teenager is silent. His face was blank, his body neutral. But the aura spoke volumes of what was coming next. The wild flames sealed underneath the glove was suddenly choked. The fire flows through the boys entire body, infusing it with more mundane power. The power of a Kusanagi. But another energy bubbles underneath, one that might seem all too familiar to Frei.
The energy of a Kasagi.
The teenager steps forward. He was moving fast, astoundingly fast. The glove was still funneling the flames across his body, and was busy with its own mechanisms. But the teenager had made up his mind. Diving towards the reborn red-head, he pivots, arcing his left leg around. Raising it in a circular motion, he sweeps it across the air.
To slam that heel straight into Frei's face.
COMBATSYS: Nameless has joined the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Kyo 1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0 Nameless
COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/-------|=======\=------\1 Kyo
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nameless 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Nameless successfully hits Frei with Shigure.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1 Kyo
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nameless 0/-------/------=|
Is... is he even trying?
Maybe. Certainly Frei makes movements that suggest the hint of a defensive maneuver, there; apparently even ghost sages don't like being kicked in the face. But at the last second, his attention wavers as Nameless comes for him. Something nagging at the back of his mind like a tiny discordant sound in an otherwise harmonious symphony. An instrument beautiful on its own but decidedly out of place with what's around it.
A... familiar power?
The distraction is enough; the NESTS assassin's foot smacks into the redhead's face, sending him flipping over backwards and into the side of the roof. At least he doesn't tumble over the edge. He might be able to fly, but is not in any hurry to find out if that's true or not.
Standing up, Frei gently dusts himself off and glances at Nameless carefully. Frei doesn't seem too much the worse for wear, despite that attack having some force behind it. If anything, he seems more... curious about Nameless than anything else. The glove with the frost powers makes him think, suddenly, of Kula Diamond. However, he knows the frosty assassin's aura well by now, and that's not her. Did they clone Kula as well?
Questions for another day.
"Well, for someone who's up here for peace, you seem determined to fight this out," Frei says carefully, studying his opponent and not making any sudden moves. Maybe Nameless just needs to punch it out?
COMBATSYS: Frei focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Nameless
An Assassin's Eye.
The heel slams into the face. Already, the teenager is repositioned to Frei's side. Not exploiting the opening. But watching him. Circling him. The power within him kept building. The glove itself was also building in strength, magnifying in power. A Kula Clone and a K' Clone, fire and ice. And yet, the next move from the teenager wasn't another strike.
It was a response.
"How do you deal with it?" Was what the NESTS assassin asks. He was watching Frei, moving with careful, delicate steps. "You are supposed to be dead. But you have returned. Just like Jiro. Just like Alma. Dying, and returning. Death and life, a cycle of rebirth. I know why I do it." The boy states flatly, finally breaking his gaze on the red head. Looking out towards the skyline of Paris, he inhales wistfully, the tattered tendrils of the cloak dancing behind him. %
"But why the others?"
The teenager releases the cloak, letting it fly away from his body. His frame was fully exposed now. "I must fight you, if only to collect your data. Maybe you'll even kill me." The last note is stated with clinical coldness, with a hint of pain. Pivoting, he suddenly lunges back towards Frei, an unpredictable turn. The icy glove comes hurtling in, coating itself in a thicker shell of hard ice. He wasn't trying to freeze Frei with the glove, no. It was simply creating ice as a tool, a bludgeon. Attempting to smash the icy fist into Frei's ribs, he asks a question, a flicker of emotion breaking through his facade.
"Are you happy you have come back?"
COMBATSYS: Frei interrupts Aggressive Strike from Nameless with Shindou.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Nameless
There's a cracking sound as that ice-coated gauntlet slams into Frei's open palm, the redhead suddenly hurling himself forward into Nameless's attack and catching it mid-strike. This is not without consequence; Frei gives a gasp of pain at both the impact and the sudden chill, but for a moment he and Nameless are locked together, inches apart. How does he deal with it? "I dunno," Frei says carefully, through gritted teeth. "This is my first time!"
And then, with an almost lazy-looking motion, Frei thrusts his other hand forward and grabs Nameless, then swings him in a counterclockwise circle and pops him up into the air before lifting both hands and, as the NESTS assassin drops back down, unleashing a burst of force from his palms, looking to put some distance between the two fighters once again.
'Like Jiro. Like Alma.' Curious words; he hadn't heard that Alma had DIED-died. But this kid might mean Alma's 'death' during the last Jinchuu tournament. Either way, resurrection appears to be the order of the day. Getting back into stance, the sage takes a breath before answering. "I don't know that I'm 'happy' I've come back or not. I'm not even sure it matters, though, really. I AM back. It's a fact. Worrying about it one way or the other isn't too productive."
It isn't too productive.
The teenager slams the fist into Frei's palm. The man had woken up, it seemed, and the teenager is sent up in the air. The blast of energy is swiftly met by the glove's icy energy; a frozen shell flashes briefly to attempt and encase the boy, to protect his body. Rolling towards the edge of the rooftop, he slams a hand down to stop his momentum. He rises up, soothing ice flowing down his arm.
"What does matter to you, then, in your second life?"
That was the question that comes from the stoic boy's mouth as he approaches the red haired man again. "If you died again, would it matter if you returned a second time? A third time? Forever and ever? When do things matter again, when your own life is so cheap, so disposable?" The icy glove begins to stretch and twist, the hand molding away into a long, thin spike. He dashes forward, the gloved weapon drawn back, as he pounces on the wiseman. Driving his spike, he aims right for the heart, though his expression remains unmoved.
"Why don't you just let yourself die?"
COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Nameless' Strong Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Nameless
There's a sudden spark, a swirl of scarlet fire, as Frei's arm shoots up and interposes itself between another frosty arm strike and his own person. Again, he grimaces in pain as he catches the icy drill in his hand, the aura of chi flame protecting him somewhat from the strike, but not entirely; this is not a smart defense long term, but for now it appears to be working. Rather than immediately counterattack, however, Frei shoves back and puts distance between himself and Nameless again, slumping forward a bit, the arm and hand he just used dangling at his side as he lets that pain work itself out.
Besides, he's got something else on his mind, rather than attacking. There was... something in that moment of contact. Frei frequently refers to his perception of chi, particularly people's chi, in terms of music. For all the terrible power behind that strike, the momentary contact with the icy glove around Nameless's hand had an... almost plaintive 'sound' to it.
Something isn't right here.
"Cheap? Disposable?" Frei seems genuinely confused by this reckoning, looking at Nameless oddly. He doesn't know much about NESTS's internal structure, for all they know about him. He does know, however, that K' and Maxima were on the run from them; escapees from the program that created their artificial fire. Yet the boy in front of him -- and he is a boy, truly -- still wears their uniform and talks of life being disposable.
Hmmm.
"I don't think that's true at all. To be honest, I don't even know if I'm 'dead' or if I've just... changed a fundamental state, somehow." There's a shrug, before Frei continues. "But I know that the worth of my life -- be it over or not -- has nothing to do with how easily it could be ended. If that were the case, isn't ALL life meaningless? I don't believe that could be possible."
COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Nameless
"You are alive."
That was his response, as the the flame consumes the ice readily. The ice, while built on chi, was hardly strong enough to stand against the heat. A hiss of steam rises from the spike as the teenager steps past the red headed sage, circling him once more. "There is no in between. Life, and death. Awake, and asleep. A cycle of reincarnation. He looks to his icy glove, the last remains of the excess ice morphing away.
"This city is dying."
The boy tightens his hand into a fist. He turns his back to Frei, walking to the edge of the rooftop. Stepping a foot up on the parapet, he leans over as he looks out across the night. He was not done fighting Frei. He was only drawing it out. "Lights are flickering out. More and more people are disappearing. Precious lives are being snatched away forever. I am so blessed that I have died so many times."
"But what is it for, if I can't carry out the will of NESTS?"
COMBATSYS: Nameless takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Nameless
"The whole world is dying."
He doesn't follow Nameless to the edge, not yet; Frei is concerned, and involved, but he's also not stupid. This is not his first rodeo. But as far as he's concerned, this is information that Nameless needs to know, and so he delivers it without rancor. "Did you know that? Maybe you can even feel it. Something's corrupting the flow of energy for the entire planet. Soon the world is going to tear itself apart. Even _time_ is coming undone, if a few things I've experienced are any indicator."
As for the will of NESTS? Now there's an interesting question. There's a pause, and then Frei lets out a long breath he didn't realize he was holding until just this moment. Where you do even start with something like this? "I can tell you right now, there certainly IS an 'in-between'. I'm... well I was going to say 'living proof', but. Anyhow."
For a second, Frei closes his eyes and puts his hand, palm down, over his heart. A moment for Nameless to strike, if he wants... and an attempt at showing trust on Frei's part. "I don't want to tell you how to live your life. That's a thing people need to decide for themselves. But if dying and being reborn for NESTS isn't fulfilling for you -- if it's leaving you feeling this empty -- then what's the point?"
COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Frei 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Nameless
"There is a point."
The teenager states this with the rigid professionalism, that would make his older brother proud. He turns around to look at Frei. He was exposing weakness. Killing him would be so simple. A shot to the heart. But he wouldn't take the shot now. There wasn't a reason to.
At the moment, at least.
He crosses his arms behind him, standing at attention, as he looks at his opponent. "There is always a point, a purpose. I came here to find her- my glove." He corrects himself, quickly. "She was already acquired for me. Then what was the point of me coming here? There is clearly a point somewhere. But I cannot find it." The boy turns up his nose at the red head, showing a glimmer of arrogance. "That is what I am lost on. I have died, and I have been brought back to complete a mission. That is my purpose. But there is nothing for me. You are supposed to be wise. Teach me."
"What must the point be, for me to be here?"
"I can't be THAT wise," Frei says with a faint smile. "I let Ryouhara immolate me."
When in doubt, try the truth. You'd be amazed how often it works.
Nameless's slip -- referring to the glove as 'her' -- is noted, but there isn't a lot Frei can say without more information and asking for it, right now, seems like a waste of time. Instead, he just ponders the implications of there being an actual PERSON related to that glove, since the idea of someone being IN that glove is too insane, even for him. "Okay. You want some wisdom? Buddhism tells us to throw away desire if we want to have a peaceful and spiritual life. What they mean by that, really, is the idea that desire creates situations where we can never be satisfied, and if we never feel satisfied or content, then we'll always be unhappy."
There's a pause, and then Frei shrugs is shoulders. "I don't think getting rid of desire necessarily instantly creates satisfaction. But I think if you can adapt to whatever comes your way and accept what's outside of your control, you'll live a happier life. You're saying there's always a purpose, but is there? Look..."
Frei extends an arm, and concentrates for a moment. When he does so, that feeling of the cool air intensifies, and what seemed like a perfectly solid human body he was inhabiting again takes on a more ethereal air. "Ever since I... died or lost my body or whatever, I've just been... popping up at places. Somewhere a friend was fighting. Somewhere a stranger was thinking. And now, you. Is there a purpose to this? Or is it just a thing that's happening and I'm rolling with the punches?"
A waste of time?
Maybe this is what it was. K' would waste time. That was the point of his betrayal. He was a loser, a time waster, constantly self-absorbed on purpose and meaning. The same kind of reflection that was consuming the boy right now. It was weakness, and what was worse, it was dangerous.
Thoughts of unloyalty were always dangerous.
"There is a purpose to you." The teenager states firmly. "And as for desire. There are things... things worth desiring for. Existence without desire is hollow." The teenager pauses, looking over the transparent form of Frei. He shakes his head. That couldn't be true. He just said there was only life and death. That had to make it true. And yet, he was ghostly as it is
"Then again, you look hollow right now."
The NESTS assassin removes the hand from behind his back, raising a fist to the air as his tone intensifies. "But I cannot be here because of desire. That is too selfish. I am not a selfish man. I am a hero, a white knight. I help people; I help the world. I protect and save the ones I love. I have to carry out the utopia vision my leaders instruct me in." The teenager turns back to the oblivion of the city. And there, looking onwards, he sighs.
"No matter how many lives I must take to fulfill it."
"The important thing," Frei says in response, "is to make decisions you can live with."
It sounds simple enough. And really, if you look on the surface of it, Frei seems like he's telling Nameless to kill as many people in the name of NESTS as he needs to in order to feel... fulfilled? Or like he has a purpose in life. Perhaps, even under the surface, that's exactly what he's saying. To the implication that right now, he looks 'hollow,' the sage gives a faint grin. "For what it's worth, I agree with you. I think without desire, we have no need to grow as people. There's a difference between being content with what you have, and not believing in the possibility of there being more than that."
Frei's arm comes down, and he expects the lightshow and the near-transparent-ness to stop, and it doesn't. Instead, it intensifies, and he lifts slightly off the ground, as he was when he appeared. "Listen... I don't really know anything about you so I don't want to tell you what's right or what's wrong. But believe me when I tell you this: in the end, you have to be satisfied with what you're doing. And I don't think you are, not really. I think you've CONVINCED yourself you're satisfied, but you've got doubts. I can feel it."
Turning, Frei opens his arms wide to encompass the ongoing destruction of Paris, then turns back to Nameless. "This is literally the end of the world. Everything's falling apart around us. Most people don't get a second chance... but you and I, we've been given third, fourth... who knows how many chances? If you REALLY BELIEVE there's a purpose in things, that there's a reason for you to live, then don't waste that opportunity spitting back someone else's words. Do something for yourself."
By the time he's delivered this entire diatribe, Frei's body is nearly entirely see-through; it looks like his alloted time is up. "Maybe I was brought here just to tell you that. I don't really know. But... whoever you are, good luck out th--"
He doesn't even make it through the final word before, in a swirl of motes of light, the mysterious man's form is gone.
To make decisions he could live with.
Frei may be apostate, but there was a significant appeal to his wisdom. True, NESTS words were his words. And yet, his own thoughts were driving him now. He could choose. He could choose for himself, and Isolde. No one should know about how she is locked away. They would use her, abuse her. But the teenager wouldn't. He was her hero, her savior. That was the most important thing. Saving her wasn't NESTS choice, it wasn't Igniz' choice.
Those were his words.
He turns back to the the red-haired sage, as his words cut short. And like that, he was gone. The boy looks around, uncertain if this was a trick, or... maybe his time was up. The end of the world. Time was short. They either could save the world... or if he couldn't do that, save Isolde. But that would take power. Power beyond time. Nameless walks up to the edge of the parapet, the edge of the roof. And looking down, he leans forward. And with that, he takes a leap.
There was something he must do.
Log created on 19:00:34 09/16/2014 by Frei, and last modified on 22:51:28 09/17/2014.