The science fiction rollplay for members of Flight of Fancy.
Chrysth washed his hands in the bathroom, a disturbing peace had settled over his form and a cold aura surrounded him, making something inside of him tremble, hating the barrier against the world, he hadn't felt such in a long time and it took him a bit to recognise the self-hatred. He leaned against the mirror, his eyes slipping shut, letting his hands rest in the running water, washing the drying redness away. Why were all these emotions coming up now? It was getting to the point where he almost regretted what state he had left Hebtu in, battered and bleeding that he was, dangling from the pole where he had tied him afterwards. He tugged his gloves back on, after all he was his half-brother...
Chrysth shook his head, putting his fist through the mirror, trembling at the feel of the glass splitting beneath his forehead, some crystal fragments hitting the side of his head. He stepped back, wincing at the small cuts in his glove, he'd just replaced that one too, since the other one had blood in it. He tugged it off examining his hand for any signs of blood, breathing a sigh of relief when there was none, Trine'd skin him alive if he came in with damage to the hand she'd just healed. He brushed off his shirt and pants, absently wondering where his battle robe had vanished to as he stepped from the bathroom and went to his room.
"Chrysth. There you are, where were you?" Trine placed a hand on his shoulder and for once he didn't pry it off.
"I was taking care of a few things." He murmured, looking up at the ceiling.
"Like what?" Trine demanded, her voice nearly drowned out by the yelling on the other side of Zalla's door.
"Nothing really." His eyes turned inward as his mind unwillingly was dragged back to his visit to the Brothel. He bit down on his lip, the small pain enough to keep his heart from jolting into an unhappy pace and refocus on Trine's curious gaze.
"Chyrsth, I've been meaning to ask you about what happened on that day we ran into Syndel..." She began.
"Ah, Syn, how did you run into the little devil?" He asked.
"How do you know him?" She returned.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Why do you continue to hide?"
"Why do you care?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Trine growled, "You're a fellow Blesser, and no one knows a thing about you, what you do while off planet, you're always off the radar and yet..."
Chrysth glanced around, "It is not wise to speak here, the walls have ears and the doors, eyes." He said.
"Are you going to talk to me?" Trine seemed shocked at his sudden statement.
Chrysth could have nearly strangled himself, what was he doing? Why? Why was he not brushing her off, not shoving her away with an icy glare or a frigid comment? He was not going to tell her, he was not... He exhaled sharply, trying to call up some sort of excuse to get away, hopefully elude the questions he could tell were eating her up. Alas, his wit seemed to have fled in the prescence of that thrice-forsaken Blesser and her prying and her asking he leave the planet with her, and her fleeing from the Protector, and trying to save the world and her multiple times damned hero-complex the size of Earth I! "I suppose I am. One question, any one question, I will answer it. Not here..."
"Angel?" Syn faltered at the daggers the white man glared at him, "Erm, Chrysth then... What're you doing?"
Chrysth grit his teeth, grabbing the Dedriorine by his mesh top and dragging him off, "Come, the story will likely involve you one way or another." He snarled softly, walking towards his ship, pounding on the doors as he passed them, "Come," He said to Zalla, "We are leaving this planet, it is time we did something about our wayward Protector." He sent Trine on ahead with Zalla, Mystic, Saffire, and Sebille, as he dragged Syndel with him to gather food and other things to restock up on for their departure, to be deyhdrated and frozen upon their return to the ship. "What have you told them, Syndel?" He mumbled as a vendor gathered some fruits.
"I've told them nothing, save your strange ability to be where there is hateful flames of vengeance." Syndel replied.
"Is that so?" Chrysth asked, "Well, now you're coming with us off this place."
"Are you certain that is wise?" Syn asked, glancing sideways at the distressed man, not noticeable to most, but Syn had spent many of Chrysth's younger years around and watching the young, doomed human and had seen the day that Chrysth had fled the Black Feather and had even helped him stow away on a vessel bound for Infinite Nebula Star.
Chrysth took the basket of various edible fruits and paid the woman, walking off, not waiting for Syndel as they went towards the docking yards.