Bloody Redemption [Eteru/Richard]

On an Iammelon garden world in the far north of the Nebula, close to Ialaon space, there exists an old ruin lost amidst the sprawling trunks and stretching branches of a dense forest... Over the years with the needs of tourism growing more and more this forest was reduced and fashioned into a trail of sorts. For people to enjoy long, peaceful walks away from their resort colony.

The ruin still hidden away by old magics capable of influencing the curious away from it still, though the untold centuries were starting to wane on the magics that kept this place hidden... Old outer defences failing while the inner most sanctum remains sealed, with a figure bound and suspended in mana forged chains hangs just mere few feet off the ground in the centre of a mossy cobble room, atop a pyramid like staircase. Hazel coloured eyes blankly pan around at collapsed pillars, broken fool tiles and hanging vines while thin trails of mana wisp and swirl around him, sustaining him... While the bones of an Ialaon priestess keep him in silent company, being the only thing binding him in so many precautions while he rethinks his mistakes, and comes to terms with his imprisonment... Wishing that this ended in some other way as he looks on with mournful eyes at the bones keeping him sealed.

In an ancient past, before the grand reunification of the Union that rules this vast nebula, before the peoples of it were united under the dragons, his people and the Ialaon's were two sides of a coin. Their's representing the natural flow and growth of life, while his represented its destructive flow and the process of renewal... In time this balance was undone as either race grew more advanced, developing in different paths... And for this ancient beings people, they grew too greedy... Too depraved... And he was a warning that change needed to happen swiftly.

Lincoln accidentally got separated from the group. A situation he wasn’t too concerned with. Getting back to them was an easy endeavor. That and the forest was well known enough that tourists are allowed to do some personal exploration as long they don’t wander off for too long. Giving people like himself some time to enjoy the moment of solitude to nothing but the sounds of nature around them. It’s a relaxing experience to melt away the stress. For him it was the freedom of stretching his legs. Back home in Valai there weren't many places where he could go without worrying about others. A male doing any sort of cardio is frowned upon.

Here he doesn’t have to worry about breaking any social barriers. And breathe in the air of primeval freedom. Hopping over a thick moss-covered root he came to a stop. A chill ran across his arm. A tell-tale sign that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. Looking around he took a sniff. There’s no stench so that was a good sign at least. Practically subconsciously he began to walk towards the thing that he’s sensing. Weaving through the dense vegetation he finally saw it. A ruin long recaptured by nature. Blanket with heavy moss and great trees growing around it.The thing that drew his eyes were the dark splotches on the visible stone that only he can see. The ruin was stained with evil. But the lack of stench meant it likely doesn’t exist anymore.

His blue eyes hone in on the entrance. If he were anyone else they would have left and reported to the proper authorities. But he wasn’t just anyone. He was Lincoln. A soul that has long dealt with the shadows cast by the light of civilization. It was true he had no obligation to go check if there’s any danger. But conditioning is hard to break. That mantra still rings clearly in the back of his head. We die in the dark so that you may live in the light. So it’s no surprise that his feet began to carry him into ruin. The air weakly shimmer with magic he mentally notes. Most likely the magical defenses that once pushed away outsiders were weakening.

Lincoln strode into the inner sanctum. It was lit enough by the light slipping through the cracks in the roof for him to make out what’s in here. And how ugly of a sight that presents him. Not only can he see the chained figure but to him he can see him stained in dark colors. The purple of entrails, the brown of rotten meat, the red of dried blood, and the list goes on. They were the stains of evil. The colors of madness that only he can see. Yet no stench was coming off of him. Telling him that he wasn’t totally who he once was. Regardless he’ll need to learn more than that to determine his next course of action.

The chained man would likely be able to see Lincoln. Short white hair with a spray of freckles across his cheeks and nose. Geared up in typical tourist attire with a fanny pack and a camera hanging around his neck. A film of dark energy coats his body. A sign that he was unconsciously casting mana skin. Lincoln spoke up, the UT Device that he has somewhere on his body enabling them to understand each other. “Been here awhile haven’t you. Who may you be?”

The same old same old, dangling here as magical chains dig into his flesh, with stakes driven all across his body avoiding vital organs. The pain was at one time unbearable, but after so many centuries suspended there... The pain was the only thing that told him he was alive anymore. A comforting feeling if anything else. The light coming through the cracks in the ceiling was the only thing that let him know that the days were still going by... Then... Something new... Something that brought colour the the dull droning gaze of his eyes once more. A new smell.

Someone is... Here..??

It has been so long since anyone was sent to check on him, after the first hundred years the visit of Ialao priestess's and mages stopped with visits being few and far between. But now... It was something new. It was strange, at first he mistook Lincoln for one of his kin, he had never seen another humanoid in his long life. But the smell was off. The signs were different... The look of his mana wasn't right.

Who is this man...?

What Lincoln would see was a man in dregs, a body absorbing mana to sustain itself and nothing more as he was barely more than skin and bones. The hair on his head had grown long enough to cover the parts of his body that the long disintegrated rags he was given before being bound. A single red eye peering out at Lincoln, ambivalent in what to make of this situation. Was he mad? Was he finally seeing things again? Was he here to finally end it all?

No... His looks are not that of a warrior. I... What the hell is he wearing? Those strange things he carries... I... How long has it been...? A mind that had long since resigned itself to silence was curiously churning once more, neurons firing before finally... The first words spoken to him in the last... However long it has been were heard. And.. He spoke the language of his jailors? No...? That... That odd box he has...

Vocal cords long since dried from lack of mana manage to choke out some semblance of words, his voice dry and barely above croaks. "It... Has... I... I am Richard... Son of lord Mathew... Lord of the Grimm Household. Prisoner... Of the Mooncrest Clan. You haven't the smell of my jailors on you... Have they stopped caring about my imprisonment...?" There is no resentment in his voice as mentions the word jailors... The Mooncrest must have been the people that originally imprisoned him in this place. He was rather saddened by the sense of it. To be forgotten down here. A most lonely existence right under the nose of the people up above.

The pain the person was in drew an ounce of sympathy from him. A good thing no matter the situation. Empathy is a sign that one is still human. Lincoln glanced around. Even here he can sense the age of this containment. He certainly wasn’t going to go try to get him out just yet. It always annoyed him when he sees young people in movies making a mess around the place that they are obviously not to be in and surprise surprise they unleash some ancient evil. In simplest terms. When something is contained there is usually a very good reason for it to be kept that way. At the moment the reason he’s not stepping out to upgrade the defensive wards and leave it at that was because there was no more stench of evil coming from the person. And he was kind enough to give him the chance to speak.

Listening to the man's words he thought back to what he knew. His mind drew blanks on what he could possibly be talking about. Regardless he can tell he must have been here for a very long time. “I’m afraid those names must not have graced this land for a very long time. The world has been silent before resort colonies were built here by offworlders several decades back.” It was tragic. To be forgotten by a world that has long passed on from memory. “What have you done to be condemned with this fate?” Always important to discern the story behind stuff like this. Context is gold as they say.

The news that those old named were not ones that were spoken here anymore saddened him, his gaze drifting to the pristine bones of the Ialao who was still binding him to this place. Her clothes still amazingly intact over her form with a ring on of her fingers. Still singing with the magics that bind. The ageless man's eyes fill with sadness. This young man had confirmed everything he thought long ago once the visits stopped... His jailors abandoned him to find somewhere else. "I... See... So no trace remains of either in this time..."

Even your sacrifice was forgotten... I am sorry...

Though these words... Off-worlders, resorts...? What was he talking about? People resettled this place? It would make sense... This man resembles one of his kin but all the markings of such were missing. He had no idea what to make of this... Of course he knew what a colony was, he helped make many for his household and its underlings expansion. But... Off-worlder... The word had his eyes panning upwards. "You... Are not of this world? How..." His question would have to wait...

Ah the nature of his confinement. Truly a tale of betrayal and acceptance... There was a pause for him, this man smelled of duty, of bound orders... But he didn't sense that it was for those things that brought him here. What will happen when he tells him...? Does he have a choice to withhold it even now?

No... No point in silence... The story is one that needs telling... If no other record exists of it happening anymore...

"My clan, the Grimm... Ruled this continent alongside another clan. The Mooncrest. Protectors of nature, they could will it to them side and live in harmony with it... My clan could command it, manipulate and bend it to our will... As our respective holds grew, our ancient bonds broke down. My people and I became greedy, misled by progress and swallowed whole by greed.. We wanted it all, we plundered, abused nature to suit our way of living. Our endless feeding... To keep the balance we were hunted... Culled..." He says as his eyes look to the skeleton once more. "When we dwindled to the very low hundred odd... I offered myself. To stop our slaughter. I knew it was the only was to save my people. They did not take pleasure in it.. They imprisoned me here... She... Sacrificed herself. To keep me here as a warning, if my people ever strayed once more... We were humbled. Our purpose of renewal restored.. But it looks like time has seen to making that story a forgotten one. I... Am the last."

His eyes then drifted back to the young man before him, wondering just what he is thinking of him now. If he even believed a word of it.. Lincoln could tell that not a word of it was a lie, this man had no reason or way to gain from it.

“Ah.” Lincoln looked around the room once more. “You really have been here for a very long time. A time capsule of a bygone age that hasn't been seen in millenia. Whose people view the final frontier as the horizon that split the sky and earth. Not the great sea of stars above them.” It was intriguing that an Ialao skeleton was here. There was no sign of any Zantine presence here or elsewhere in the world. That puts this place as being possibly before the Zantine even touched down on Freeforest for the first time. A truly long stretch of time being imprisoned.

He looked back to him from the skeleton. “I’m unfortunately not from this world. The stars above have long entered an age of interstellar travels and communication. There are ships that can sail from one star to another as easy as sailing across an ocean. I’m from one of those distant stars.” It wouldn’t be surprising for this Richard to have some trouble taking that in. That he was deep down here unknown of the great breadth of galactic history that went by him as if it were nothing. No wonder that his soul no longer reeks of his misdeed. He has been here for so long that it all lost its value.

Up around Lincoln a ring of darkness formed. It then elongated at certain points. Stretching and sharpening until it has then formed a floating circle of black swords of varying shapes and sizes. All emit a dark aura of esoteric properties.

He reached over to grab his Demon-Destroyer Sword before stepping closer. The ring of blades remains where they are in the air. The sword in his hand looked rather unique.The  blade ends with a wide edge that appears to have a clover symbol at the top. Lincoln looked up into Richard’s eyes. “If you vow to never steal and/or violate the life of another person. I will grant you the opportunity to redeem yourself. You have very well served your time to the people you’ve done wrong. But that’s to them. Not to us. You have to prove to us that you can be a faithful part of this new era. If you don’t want to do this. I can give you the mercy to relieve yourself of this fate.”

Inter... Stellar? All these new words that were formed were ones he did not understand, his language held no value of them. But Lincoln's explanations proved to bridge that realm of understanding with his lack of knowledge. To think that I've lived long enough for a new era to start... I wonder if we lived in this time. Would our ego still be so set on feasting endlessly when there is no end in the sky above?

A question that may never be answered at this time. This place has long since lost its history of strife and now holds ties to relaxation... Given new life. While he who has spent a very long time sorting out the evils within him, tempered by the marching of eras around him. Coming to terms and regretting all the evil his people had wrought. Wanting a chance to finally atone... Perhaps this was fate offering that very olive branch.

"To think... I have lived long enough to speak to a man of another world... Another culture.. It boggles the mind to ever consider such a thing. But the truth is rather undeniable.. It humbles me." He says with a weary smile that weakly stretched across his face. Lacking the strength to do both, he focusses on talking. Though his eyes are glued to the formation of an eerie mana in the eyes. Watching as devils take the form of blades aplenty, all sings at different tunes... His eyes flick from one to another, and another and another, all singing their own melodies but all at the pace of the young mans. His mana was dominant over theirs. A power that was similarly in opposition to his jailors but in a very different sense...

The blackened depths of this mana was foul tasting, sickening.. Yet it wasn't violent. Likely because this man didn't view him as an enemy yet. It was cold, still... Like a calm coastal shore before the infinite depths that lapped at it. The sword he wielded was a strange one... He had never seen such a blade in his life.

But now... Now... He could see that fate indeed was offering him a branch... His past crimes did mean nothing in this era but he will not act like they mean nothing. If he must prove that he is not an enemy, then he will swear any oath that does not compromise the story he must live to tell. Though he said something that presents an issue... "I... Have no... Issue... But... I must... Protect myself... If I am in danger... Death of another is hard to promise... But the life of innocence... I vow on my name... My ancestry.. Any possible legacy I may make... That no innocent life will be taken or violated... If this is not enough..." He falls silent as he lacks the mana to speak further, only getting wheezes of air through his dried lungs. The wisps of mana in the air were just enough to keep him alive, bit not enough for more than that.  

He told no lies as he spoke to Lincoln, he doesn't seem like a boastful sort or one prone to violence. Needless violence didn't seem to be in his nature, from what he could smell on him and what he could visualise... He had spent so much time trying to better his mindset, to temper himself. He will defend himself but cause no undo suffering... Forging himself into a righteous sort it would seem.

Lincoln does believe him yet Richard can feel he’s not going to let him be free with the wind. He does not trust him fully yet. Especially about the part of protecting himself. Self-defense may make sense but it was an easy loophole to be exploited. Despite the cold front he has held up so far he gave a soft smile. “Well said, Richard Grimm. I’ll release you of your bondage. But until the time comes when you win not only my trust but the trust of others. You will be bonded in another way. It’s harsh I know, I apologize. Naivety is a trait I can’t afford to make.” The ring of swords behind him dissipates. Their owner no longer has a need for them. He step close enough to raise his free hand. White wisp trailing behind his fingers. Using a power to bind him from harming anyone, even in self defense.

In a flash the chains that once held him were severed into strips. The properties of Lincoln’s Demon-Destroyer Sword nullified the magic within them. Richard would have felt his heart jolt for having such a blade be near him. As if death itself brushed by him. Like the other it vanishes into wisps of black energies. He then helped Richard to his feet. “Look at it this way. Redemption doesn’t happen by the use of a blade. You have to put them aside if you want to prove to civilization that you can bring good things without them.” The memory of the sun should never be tainted with blood. Still it was rather ironic for those who know Lincoln. Being someone who was raised on Valai. His society very much supports the notion of paying for one's sin through trial by combat. But for him it’s complicated. He’s just...tired with violence.

Looking to Lincoln as he writes the characters of this new rune on his soul, he makes peace with it. If he is to live with another binding until he proves his intentions it will be for the better. If anything he gladly accepts it, there will be many temptations to once more walk down the same dark paths that he did in youth. This will be a good safety net for him to test his new resolve, to see if he is worthy of truly living once more. To answer Lincoln he gives a simple nod, unable to muster much else in his state.

As he watched the chains that bind him get reduced to metal ribbons his heart felt like it had left into his throat... A good sign that he was very much still alive. Fearing is good. It has been too long since he had felt a fear for his life, it replaced the fear of being buried. No longer bound he would fall weakly onto the ground unless he was caught by Lincoln. With the chains no longer binding his being, Lincoln would start to notice that the holes from the stakes in his body were starting to heal, mana in the air and in the area around him was being drawn in to fuel this regeneration... His skin was gaining colour, a healthy pink hue, his body returning to a state of health instead of it being shrivelled with atrophy. A breathe of fresh air filled his lung, by the gulp load he took in the mana around him before he paces himself, using just enough to get him to a state of being able to stand... Enough to sate the cravings that his rescuer's shoulder was giving, blood potent enough to control demons was likely to be a powerful kick.

But he wanted to prove his own self control. He let out a sigh of relief, one that teetered on the brink of being overwhelmed with emotions at this new freedom he had found despite the new shackle in place. He was more than thankful. Though what Lincoln said to him tugged at a familiar string... A voice drenched in a sort of tiredness. A weary warrior who wanted no more bloodshed.

"I thank you sir. I accept this new shackle... I hope to prove that I am worthy of its removal in time." He says with a smile before looking to the bones of the priestess that bound him here for so long... He moved over and avoiding direct contact to sunlight, carefully removing the ring from her finger and held it in his hand, having a memento of where he was given his second chance would do good for him. A reminder that this was his chance to atone and earn the right to begin again like he was now. "If possible I would like to bury her... Leaving her here doesn't sit right with me... Also... Some clothes would be nice. I... I don't think walking around as a walking mop is acceptable in any period of history." His modesty was all covered by the hair that stretched down to his feet near enough. Though it sounded like he would handle the general grooming.

"I have never met a man with mana strong enough to bind Demons to their whim. It's no wonder you were able to pass by the illusionary field. including a sort of... Anti-magic? I knew someone who could use that. I didn't think such an old thing would survive into a new era in a different form."[/i]

Lincoln looked on in approval at Richard’s wish to do a proper service to the dead. “Of course.” He would help him outside while avoiding the sunlight. It was intriguing to see that he was averse to direct sunlight. It reminded him of past anomalies he dealt with in the past that didn’t like the sun. Finding a good spot he would help the man bury the bones. A deed that certainly starts Richard off well. But he has a long way to go other than paying respect to the dead.

Looking over to Richard he could agree that he needed some form of decency before going back into society. “That you do man. Here, let me make something for you that’ll work for now.” Stepping behind Richard he motioned his hand against the dirty hair to grip it all. He then brought up his other hand to grab it as well. In a quick display of superhuman strength and speed. He managed to rip Richard’s hair without him feeling nothing more than a light tug. “This will do.” Lincoln then went over to an exposed stump to set the bundle of hair on it. In another display of his powers. Strange energy spilled from it to cover it. In seconds the hair was cleaned of it centuries of dust, dirt, and general grime. Using nearby vines he then fashioned a skirt out of it. “It’ll hold till we get you proper clothing.”

After getting them on Richard he took a step back. It was rather silly that he did this. He was very much capable of generating a set of clothing with his powers. One could call it laziness on his part but he honestly felt he shouldn’t treat Richard too well yet. Speaking about his power he thought back on what Richard said earlier. “Heh, not surprising to hear that. I’m rather unique to my own people as well. In fact, you’re rather special. This is the first time I’ve ever shown off my powers this much. I’m only known to be physically stronger than humans. How I came to acquire it is a long story. It definitely wasn’t something that came to me without a price."

“Come on, I’m a part of a tourist group. We can reach up to them fine. Then we can go on ahead to head back to camp.” Lincoln heads off towards the trail. Keeping the same pace with Richard to not leave him behind. Thankfully for Richard the trail was well shaded for him to walk through. In a few short minutes they would come across the small group of diverse tourists from all walks of life. Strange stares were certainly thrown Richard’s way due to his lack of attire. Lincoln would speak with the tour guide that he found a person who got lost and is going to bring him back to camp. Being the understanding sort the guide waved them off. Trusting the two will get back fine. Leaving the two to continue walking down the trail.

Th sudden action of having most of his hair ripped away from his head in such a painless manner was a disorienting one, though he still did what he could with his limited mana to style it in a sort of messy way and cleaning away the lifetimes of grime off of himself, using the mana around him to sink into his skin before getting rid of the impurities and unsightly scents to be replaced by the smells of the flora around him. It wasn't a replacement for a good bath or anything, but at this point it was better than nothing.

He looked relived to have any form of clothing really, it wasn't ideal but he accepts the skirt. messing around with his hair before stretching out his back, getting several rather nasty sounding cracks from them before doing the same to his fingers and feet. Years of atrophy broken in seconds as more mana was applied to broken areas to regenerate muscles, and nerves that have been dried up or just dead for far too long. Though he didn't seem as phased by it, the centuries of painful imprisonment most likely making him build up an absurd tolerance to such. "I thank you for the skirt. And will take this opportunity to thank you for getting me suitable garbs in advance. I already have much to repay you for but I will do whatever possible to repay you sir... Though would you do me the honours of knowing your name?"

Richard didn't know the extent of Lincoln's powers yet so he had no idea that he could make him actual clothes. To be fair he could fashion his own as well, but he has no idea what sort of society exists in this time, what is or is not acceptable... For all he knows his Blood-Arts are something that he shouldn't use unless necessary in this day and age. For now he'll just keep quiet unless asked about his abilities. Best not to boast and only tell what he needs to... Though hearing that he was rather special to have seen arsenal of weapons made him feel privileged to see it with his own eyes. "Aaah so this is your trump card? A sound plan, keeping it close at heart away from public eyes. No matter the era there are always envious souls seeking what they cannot have."

Hearing the little titbits of what Lincoln would tell of acquiring his powers it sounded like the power was not one of a matter of birth right but dabbling in what they shouldn't. This was of course, of no surprise to the Vampire. Though the fact he flaunts trauma so easily. He was either over it, proud of it, or unaware that he was being so casual about it... All possibilities saddened the man out of time. Best not to pick at it yet, he had no place to speak on the matter of this mans past seeing as he had only explains the vague truth of his own.

Leaving the temple after burying the priestess's bones, Richard was hesitant to do so before he saw the impenetrable canopy above them. That eased his worries somewhat as he followed behind Lincoln, using this more open area to start storing up mana from his surroundings once more... If he was to walk amongst those in the light of day he will need mana to create the [Sun skin] he'll need to walk amongst them normally.

Richard was all too aware of his lack of modesty as Lincoln lead him back to the tourists. While fascination was present with the diversity, seeing aliens and the shapes of their souls and colours of their mana that was different to any he had seen, he couldn't help but be distracted from this revelation at the fact they were all staring at him, making him all the more conscious of this, something that only hurried his pace as he followed Lincoln along the trail, completely red faced from the experience. "Just how much can you do with that runecraft of yours anyways?" He says as he starts to wonder if his rescuer did this to him on purpose to gauge his reactions.

“Ah, I didn’t introduce myself. Sorry about that. It’s Lincoln. No family name.” He was so caught up with this whole situation that the common courtesy slipped his mind. Richard was turning out to be rather talkative for someone who was locked away for countless years. He figured it would have taken time for him to warm up to talking this expressly. Even himself became reluctant to partake in conversations with another person his “age”. The children at the orphanage are an exception to this. He’s not dealing with useless men or women who prefer to not be in the same proximity as him. Children are not yet fully refined by the touch of Valorian society. They’re more open to the world around them. To them, life is magical and warm. Color is not drained out of it. And he found that to be a very precious thing. Because he knows what it means to have it completely ripped away.

He gave a noise of agreement to what he said about keeping your cards close. It was common sense to him. “I wouldn’t call it a trump card. Just another tool in my arsenal.” It was rather basic really. In fact it was one of the first things he drew from his strange new power. “There was never a time I needed to use it before now.” And that was a good thing to him. To not have needed to use them was a sign that he was living in a relatively peaceful galaxy, disregarding the wars. But that to never evoke anything else from him. Once upon a time he would have answered the trumpet to march to war. After living a calm life so far he became soft. More relaxed. So he left the fighting to the others. Deep down he also knew that if he had picked up his swords again. Well...best not to linger on what if's.

Seeing Richard red in the face was amusing enough to brush away those thoughts of what if. “I do have a versatile bunch of powers.” He was being rather truthful. He had a lot. “Looks like you know thaumaturgy as well. What’s your magecraft like?”

Finally, a name he could put to the face. He intentionally mentioned a family name... Is that sort of thing common still? Family names are for nobles and high ranking individuals... He thinks to himself before smiling to him as they continue walking through the forest trail. "Lincoln... An old name. Are you sure we aren't related?" He says more in a joking fashion, knowing well that it was unlikely seeing as he's seen the shape and colour of Lincoln's soul. It didn't match those of his kind.

The reason for him being so talkative was merely because he could now, spending so long alone with only himself to talk to got old fast, deriving conversations from shattered memories got old fast, everything got old. Now he was amongst a new culture, an era of infinite potential to him. How could he keep quiet? Before he was swept up his people's greedy madness he was quite the compassionate sort, always a people person. Being a lord this played well for him since he could understand the plights and needs of those under him, improving their lives gave him a sense of fulfilment, their gratitude was something he needed for his House to grow, so he was a fair yet stern Count. Never pampering his people mindlessly and taking no aggression lightly, punishments dealt with the weight of the sins attached to them.

Then the madness set in, he became cruel and greedy, always looking out for himself and none other, his people would work to the bone and get to live, only direct family ever got to the see the glimpses of his old self peering through...

Family...

An old wound opens with a fleeting thought... Would any of his family be around...? His direct family came down to his three younger siblings and mother. His house could have continued with a Countess ruling after he gave himself up to bring his people back into the light... But does anything of them remain in this time besides his memories of them? That might be the first thing he searches for once he's free, proven his worth as a soul able to help this new era without shackles on his soul. Though it was a desperate hope, one that he knew that he will need to let go of in time if he turns up nothing.

Listening to the fact that Lincoln didn't need his blades did make him hopeful. It would seem that the need of such a warrior was not currently needed, meaning he was unearthed during a time of peace... Though the only issue was, how long would that peace last and who would brake it... Ah such pessimistic things can be put down for now. He was free! He had the vast expanse of creation to explore as he proved himself worthy of trust. "You say they aren't your trump card but those swords all had different functions, each suited form something different. Alongside this 'Runecraft' of yours you're quite the formidable warrior. I'd dare say that even my personal Grave Knights would have had trouble beating you."

The term, Thaumaturgy was one that he didn't recognise. But his expanded definition of 'Mage Craft' was a familiar thing. Something that sparked a raised eyebrow and a surprised look. He could tell I have power beyond feeding on ambient mana? My my he is sharp. With his surprised look turning to that of a pleasant smile he thinks of how best to explain it. "I do not know what this Thaumaturgy is. But with how you're saying it, it must be similar to my people's [Blood Arts]. They are varied, unique from person to person. They can range from manipulating the natural elements, or arising as mental abilities... It is rare for anyone to have one outside of the noble Houses. I have two."

Richard was always rather happy with his Blood-Arts, though now he has the chance to rid them of the foul ways he abused them during the years of madness. And now was a good a time as any for a demonstration. "The one I use the most is my 'Blood Craft'... It is... Heh. A versatile branch of magic. Observe." Without a seconds through he holds out a single finger out into a beam of direct sunlight, Lincoln now able to see just what it will do to him as it burns his skin and destroys his muscles. Pulling his hand back, the bony remains of his pinkie finger remains before muscle and flesh slowly grow back over the bleach white digit. Richard then closed his eyes, mana around them started to swirl before it sinks into his skin, now showing a new set of ancient characters appearing on his side while a layer of thin mana rests over his entire body. Now he puts his hand back out into the ray of light, now completely unharmed by it.

"I can freely will the Blood of the Land to take a shape and substance of my imaginings. Much like this [Sun Skin] enchantment I have just added to myself. Now I can freely walk out in the sunlight without worrying about being turned into an ashen puddle. And what's better is that as long as the sun remains in the sky, the [Sun Skin] feeds off of the suns warmth to keep the enchantment active. Of course I have to recast it if I go into caves of what not." Richard was rather proud that he could use this kind of power to this extent. He wasn't as well suited for it when he was younger. He was much better at using Martyr when he was young. Thought hat ability was one for a soft hearted fool like him. Unable to watch people suffer.

"But I can also conjure fire with it, create things from the raw Blood of the Land, and as you've seen. Use the Blood of the Land to sustain myself. If I didn't then I would need to drink the blood of others and use the mana in their blood to sustain myself." Richard had no issue revealing any of this, since it was apparent that Lincoln had an inkling that he could do such a think in the first place. "My other Blood Art is called Martyr. I will let you a guess as to what it does."

“Heh, I’m confident we aren’t” He returned the same mannerism. Not feeling the need to bring up the special circumstances of how he came to be unless asked. But he might as well share things after that. “I’m a bit of a unique soul back in my homeworld, Valai. In fact I’m a nonnative race. As an infant I was brought to the front steps of an orphanage in a cradle. Where I would then live for all my life.” Richard would easily sense that Lincoln held no sorrow about his place in the world. Not bothered by the fact that no one has ever wanted him. A childhood of possibilities that he could have had was not meant to be.

His soft grin remained on his face as Richard kept talking about his strength. “I never heard of these Grave Knights but I can get the sense they must be very renowned. Still, you flatter me. I’m not that special.” Lincoln doesn’t doubt his self-worth. Rather it’s a habit of downplaying his abilities. “If anything I’ve gotten rather soft.” Once more that was a good sign in his eyes. Even with the fact that there were recent wars. Hoshizora is not turbulent enough that he needs to be at his peak and constantly surpassing his limits.

Lincoln nodded along to Richard’s explanation of his magic. He seems to have found the right topic for him to fill the silence of their jaunt. By the time Richard was done they came to the area where the campsites are. It was overcast at the moment that would give the latter plenty of shade to walk around. Lincoln brought him over to the restroom. And then stopped at the front of the door. Hand pressed against it as he looked back at Richard. The corner of his lips curve up. “Behind this door is a piece of technology that defines a society as one that is civilized.”

Opening the door in a melodramatic fashion. Richard would see a rather wide, clean, and lit room with polished white floors and ceiling. There were a few stalls alongside one side of the room. Next to it were a group of lockers. The wall facing them had a wide open window to let in natural light. Beneath it were cabinets. Strangely when Lincoln glanced at the stalls he seemed a tad disappointed. That quickly went away when he looked back at him. “Indoor plumbing! Hehe alright, head over to the cabinet over there. Second shelf down. There’s a stack of cotton shirts and grey sweatpants that the camp gives out for free in case someone dirtied their clothing and needs something clean. I’ll wait out here to let you slap those on.” It was odd that Lincoln seemed to care about decency all of the sudden. And would close the door to give Richard privacy. If he was paying attention there was a sign above Lincoln’s head that had a symbol of a humanoid figure with a triangular body.

Of course there would be time to swap stories of years gone by once they have a more stable understanding of one another. Though for this new glimpse into the ever depressing story of the ever charismatic storyteller, Richard had no idea what an 'Valai' is but it sounds like its the world he grew up on. And to here that he is not a native there means he must come from yet another world... The sheer span of how this was unfolding is insane. Do people really have that sort of freedom to drop children they don't want off on another planet? Its hard enough to find the parents that abandoned you in a single country.. This... "Civilisation hasn't come far in a mature sense if we're still abandoning children on doorsteps... Though at least you've come to a sort of understanding with it. I've known people who let just that consume them." He says with a half smile, one of those people was one of his siblings that they took in. His second sister, the second oldest before him in fact.

Lincoln was not far off on the renown known by the Grave Knights, staunch protectors and Vanguard of their people. Not all of them were good people, but they were a honourable sort. Or they were at the very least. Hearing him underplay his abilities, such humble behaviour for someone who absurd. "Ah perhaps not, after all I'm sure just anyone can walk so courageously into a ruin not access for hundreds of generations and make an acquaintance out of a man who has no idea what that box in your possession does besides letting them understand foreign words. Anyone cold have done it surely." Jape aside. It did the old soul good to hear that such a warrior was not needed, that peace was so secure that warriors could dream of laying down arms and focus on other pursuits. Not an ideal life for most, he knows people who are truly born for it, war, who will be no use anywhere else but bloodshed... Though he always thought that could change with time.

Once they got back to the camp Lincoln was leading him too, he got to see structures and strange architecture that he was very unfamiliar with. Especially when he was brought over to a strange small rectangular building with two different doorways... Hearing that line of seeing something that defines a society got him thinking on just what it could be. He could sense the momentary disappointment from his securer which made him quirk an eyebrow, but quickly he got side tracked by the fact that indoor plumbing was a thing. "Hold on what? U-Uh right clothing. Thank you." He looks back as he wanders inside the pristine interior. Starting to fumble with the draws before looking back as Lincoln makes his leave.

How odd. I wonder what that picture means. Some sort of... Triangular body... Immediately he certainly wouldn't put it together, far to concerned with the clothes. Not quite liking to get changed in view of the door he takes to the stalls, closing it over and momentarily fumbling with the lock that he didn't know was digital until he pressed at it a few times until it worked. Looking to the clothes he had picked up, he couldn't help but look at them sceptically. He couldn't put his finger on it.. But something wasn't right... Though he gives a small shrug, slipping them on and even making a small chain necklace that the ring he had taken as a memento now was apart of, now on his neck. ... Hmm... Okay maybe just once. He pushes the handle on one of the toilets to see it work, because how could he resist seeing how far civilisation has come since those unsanitary times. Seeing for himself the marvels of modern toiletries he aims to leave the restroom and go back outside to see Lincoln.

He brushes it off with a laugh. “Again. I’m unique in my situation. Using me as a case example for such a large society is a fool’s errand. Speaking of which I probably should give you a run down of the country we’re in sometime soon.” That’ll have to be someplace more fitting than here. Hearing Richard that people have let it consume them got a hum of agreement from him. Lincoln saw it all the time himself. Specifically the male Valorians. They let the fact that they were unloved solely because of their gender sink get to them. Every time a Valorian orphan becomes of age the first thing they do is leave. Heck some leave sooner to live on the streets instead of being reminded that their childhood was wasted. As he grew older he manage to keep their spirits up and less of them left with broken spirits.

His thoughts remain on them while Richard was in the restroom. Seeing him get out he gave a small grin. It widened more when a few seconds after a female camper came by the entered the restroom. Only when it closed did he speak up. “Had fun in the Women’s Restroom?” He stifled a chuckle. This is going to be quite a journey them two. Clapping his hands before Richard could speak he beat him to the punch. “Now! The sun’s setting. And I got an idea what we should do next when I was waiting out for you. I’m going to give you a quick first-hand experience of what it means to live in a free society.” Flashing a smile he gestured to Richard to follow him.

Luckily it was still overcast and will continue to stay the same for awhile. Lincoln brought Richard past the final trees. To where they are greeted with a clear view of the small eco-city. A beautiful display of technology that synergies nature and metal. Since this colony was sponsored by Freeforest due to proximity, they had a bit of hand in the overall design. All the streets were for pedestrians. The only vehicles allowed here were civilian hovercraft such as buses and taxis.

Lincoln continued to lead Richard through the streets. Taking his time to let Richard take in the sights of both the buildings around them and the modern day people strolling about. Taking a turn down a smaller street he eventually came to a stop. To the side of them was a small building. Colored in dark greens with a holographic display that read “Club Bloom” above the door. Guarding it were two burly men in dark clothing and sunglasses. Even here for someone with sensitive hearing like Richard, he can hear a dull pulsating sound. “Just follow my lead man.”

He stepped forward to one of the bouncers. Then took out a blank black card. The man took it while he held up a device he had on his belt. Seemingly scanning it before putting it back down. The bouncer glanced up to Richard. “He’s with you?” Lincoln gave a word of affirmative. The bouncer seems to be okay with it. Giving back Lincoln his card and bidding them to have a good time. With the widest grin yet, Lincoln walked back to Richard. The latter who can really start to see just how much of a switch Lincoln had in his overall posture and vibe. It wasn’t long ago that Lincoln carried a dark air with him. As if he was carrying a heavy coat. Note that is gone. Lincoln seems loose and light.

“Alright, some house rules.” Lincoln got up close to Richard. “One, feel free to drink as much you like. We’re at the tail end of a celebration week so all drinks are free in the colony. Two, if anyone happens to give you strange tablets you take no more than three max. Three, no touching unless initiated. Lastly and most importantly. Four, have fun.” He whipped a pair of gun fingers at Richard. “There’s a greater lesson here by the way. So tell me what it is after we waste the night away.” Turning around he sauntered to the doors and opened it. Letting a wall of sound and hot hair to blast them on the way inside.

It was as if they stepped into another world. Everything was dark saved for the lit up bar to the one portion of the very large room. And a large mass of flesh and limbs that it almost looks like one being if it weren’t for the colorful light show that showed that they are actually people making some moves. All races and gender were in this crowd. Some had party paint that glows in the dark, some had glowing party bands, and some may as well be naked with how little clothing they were wearing. The booming music could be even felt beneath them. The floors were designed to carry the vibrations of the music throughout the entire music. Making it really feel like they were dancing with the music. “First, let's get some fire in our bellies. Can’t party when tense after all.” He beckoned Richard to follow him over to an open table near the bar. Richard could see all sorts of drinks hanging behind the bartender.

By the time Lincoln was already about to tell him that he was in the woman's restroom, it looked like Richard pieced that together from the way his complexion had turned as white as freshly fallen snow. The stifled chuckle and clap drowned out the mortified exasperation he was about to try and get across. After the stunt he pulled, Richard was reluctant with such a jape... But he couldn't help but be curious. "A free society huh... Alright I'm curious!" He was still in high spirits, having the chance to absorb what happened he could tell that it wasn't done in ill will, a joke to embarrass him. Like the japes he and his peers would play on each other back in the days of the Academy.

Though there wasn't much time to focus on the past, as now he was bearing witness the marvels of the future. The sights of all this new technology.. This overwhelming progress... This green and pleasant atmosphere. It was so alien but still familiar in a way. He couldn't begin to make heads or tails of the technology yet of course, but it was all amazing...

Though now, Lincoln was about to show him something that would likely shake all cultural foundations he has to their core. Listening well to Lincoln, he just followed the man's lead as he tended to some sort of identification... It wasn't long before they got inside. Though what he saw next, was one of the biggest and strangest thigs he's seen so far. The newly freed Vampire just looked so out of place, his face having the most 'please help me' look on it as he listened to these 'house rules' that Lincoln was explaining to him before they went inside.

"W... What??" His voice was largely drowned out by the music, something that he had to temper his senses for, on practically all levels since the visuals, scents and tastes in the air were all shocks in themselves to someone like him, who had only known the orderly delight of a ballroom dance... All this.. All this???

Once inside, the dark didn't really interfere with him since he naturally could see in the dark. Though that was more of a hinderance to his fragile understanding of this era when he easily spotted that alot of people were basically wearing flimsy fabric strips and what have you, dancing without a care. Something that surprised him, definitions of modesty seemed to have been revised throughout the ages. Though as the initial shock settled, he was able to see past it to the vast rainbow filling the room, all different souls from species from all corners of the Nebula and beyond... It was... Like nothing he's ever seen before.

All of it was understandably overwhelming, and a sinking feeling in his stomach wants him to bow out of this before Lincoln beckoned him to a nearby table that was vacant... He didn't want to be overwhelmed like this. But... A challenge like this may as well be overcame early on, otherwise he will fear adapting to this era altogether. It still didn't help that he looked like a deer in headlights the entire time he followed Lincoln. "B-By the sun and moon, this... Is all pretty... I.. Don't have words that would do any justice... Uh... What was that about drinks?"

Lincoln kept grinning as he set down. But it held a soft edge. He’s not here to throw Richard too far into chaos of the modern age. “Heheh, take a deep breath friend. Let’s relax here for a moment.” Letting out a sigh he settled into the rather comfortable chair. Letting the wave of music and heat wash over him. “This is a proper place to enlighten you on the country we live in. But first, we got to get some drinks.” He saw the waitress come up to the side. A cute redhead in a snug uniform. Politely asking the two if they like any drinks. He flashes a smile. “The night is still young and my friend here is rather new here. So it’s best for us to start small. Two Honey Deuce’s please.” The drink is a more mature version of lemonade. Only it’s a 20 proof  cocktail, which is  lemonade spiked with a short shot of vodka. With a  little raspberry liqueur to sweeten it up, and the honeydew melon balls for the finishing touch.

As the waitress walks away he leans back into his chair. Looking out into the pulsating crowd for a few moments. “Can you see it?” He looks over to Richard. Bearing a carefree yet serious expression. Then he leaned forward. Crossing his arms over the table. Letting out a deep breath he turned his head a bit to watch them. “I see a lot of things in them. A light that I lost a very long time ago. To them, normalcy is waking up tomorrow with a hangover and the worst thing that they think can ever happen to them is being late for work. Miss a show they wanted to watch. Ruin their new shirt with a wine stain. Just mundane, trivial problems. That’s it. Precious no?” He paused to sit back up. The waitress brought them their drinks. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Grabbing the cool glass he took a sip out of it. Letting out a content sigh before continuing after a few seconds of silence. “This country, The Union of Iammelon. Has no place for souls like us. True, we did have a big civil war that only ended a year ago. But that’s the first time war came to the stars in over a millennium. Hundreds of generations came and went in that period of peace. And none of us, just like the crowd over there, never forgot what that meant.” He shifted in his seat. Becoming a tad uncertain in opening himself about something. It wasn’t something he told anyone. There was no reason to. But for a soul like Richard, bathed in war and bloodshed. He would understand what he would say.

Richard could begin to see Lincoln’s true age in how heavy the darkness in his eyes sat. “This is my second life. At the end at my last I was given the opportunity to start again in a different universe from a dear friend of mine. I stuck with him till the end of time” He took a drink from his glass. The expression of his face was light. His eyes were dark in the shadows. And Richard would finally be able to see it.

That black sky of hate. “I wanted a universe that doesn’t need me. Of course, I put some extra requests into the wish. Instead of being naturally reborn I was just turned into an infant again in a cradle. Care to make a guess why? That I would toss away a second childhood like that?” He sat there, looking at Richard with a calm expression.

Taking some much needed advice, he gives himself a moment to settle down with some deep breathes. Slowing down to just... Mellow out, in the brief time he's been out, freed from his prison and given a chance at new life, he hasn't sat down and let himself catch up yet... He could handle seeing aliens everywhere. He could handle seeing his world looking far different with new structures dotting its horizon. Though he was going to need some time to handle space travel, far off planets, and this new way of partying. Mainly due to how shameless this new generation is. Almost every direction was filled with a sight that made him red in the face.

Speaking of, the arrival of the waitress was certainly one as he kept his gaze downcast while Lincoln orders them their drinks. Once the waitress was off to fulfil their order he looked back to Lincoln as he spoke up, Richard seeing this mixed expression on his face before he listened to his rescuer. At first he had no idea what he was looking for, frankly he had no idea where to look with some of the people around them. Rather odd for him to be so conscious now that he was basically naked not to long ago.  

Though before long he starts to see what Lincoln was talking about, carefree faces that only had to worry about small things, trivial yet so important to them. Nothing of life shattering importance looming over their shoulders threatening their way of life... "I suppose it is." He says with a smile before he looked to the drinks that the waitress had brought them.  Picking up this 'Honey Deuce' he gives it an experimental sip... And besides his initial reaction to the carbonated bubbles popping in his mouth mixed with the fruity taste and the zing of the vodka shot. "Hohoho, now this is a revolution in technology I can get behind. I can't remember the last time I had a good drink." Well, not technically true, but the exaggeration was worth it to sell how good this tasted for him.

Richard continued to sample his drink as he listened to what Lincoln had to say about this new 'nation' that he was now residing in. The Union of Iammelon... The name was odd but from his point of view it was a fitting one. He didn't mind that he wasn't needed, it meant his destiny was his own to carve... Though to hear that this Union had not seen a war in order a thousand years... Was such a long lasting peace truly possible? Evidently so... It... He didn't know what to think about that. "... That's astounding. So many lifetimes untouched by strife... I'm glad." He smiles down into the mixture he was swirling in his cup before finishing it off with a single gulp, eager for another.

Though that glad and satisfied expression wilted, seeing a sight in the eyes of his friend, old eyes that had seen many unearthly horrors... Eyes he knew all too well. So he listened, hearing the tale of this new life he was granted with a wish... It sounded like something out of a fairy tale, yet... He believed every word of it. Those were not the eyes of a liar, a charlatan or even a charismatic trickster. He had seen all those... This was a man who had seen out past the abyss and demanded an end to its staring. He told the truth... No one can fake hate that deep.

Though now he heard something that perplexed him. He wished to be an orphan?? W-Why? He had a wish that could grant him any new start to life in any family in any state of wealth, atmosphere or status... Why start at the- The bottom... It was just a guess. But he could hazard a guess as to why. "A guess... I have one. But if I may speak candidly, it sounds like you purposely did this so you could not only the worst start with no one expecting anything of you, so you could do good with no stigma of family attachments to your name. So what you do as a person can seem more genuine. Especially your efforts in helping the orphans you lived with."

While still in a serious mood he gave a snort in amusement when he took notice of Richard’s redden face. “We Iammelonians are rather lascivious. Humanity being the top dog in that category. Just this last few years we managed to spread the legs of the leader of another nation and ensnared it in a personal Union. Below them on the thirst chart are the Valorians. The native race of my homeland in fact. Let us say they’re a bit queer as they prefer women. Huh, speaking of if you glance over to the wall over there you can see one of them getting frisky with a Ialao.” Sure enough Richard can see a rather lewd sight through the gaps in the crown. There, pining the small fawn to the wall was the couple discreetly making out. The Valorian hand was down inside the Ialao’s skirt. From how the fabric was rustling it’s clear what is happening. “You’ll get used to it.”

Lincoln listens to Richard’s guess. It wasn’t what he expected. Nonetheless he sat back further in the chair. “Let me share you a tale. Every year for twelve days around winter’s solstice a humanoid entity of unknown origin becomes active in rural areas where snow lays heavily on the ground. This period of time is his active phase, called the Weissnacht Events. And he often shows up in multiple locations. Ugly thing. He was a very tall elderly male at two meters, with an extremely emaciated appearance. Always appears completely naked, even when observed outdoors in freezing weather. And he had always went after homes with a family with at least one child under the age of 8.” He pause to take a gulp of his drink. Eyeing it afterwards. Thinking he might need a stronger drink.

He took a few good seconds before responding. “Weissnacht Events always progressed the same. In the first seven nights children will report seeing it in the vicinity of their family's home. The entity will typically be observed watching the hone from a distance, such as from across a nearby field or from the edge of a neighboring forest. In some cases, children will report waking up at night to find it watching them sleep through a window. Nights eight to eleven, the family members will start to hear sounds of footsteps coming from the roof or the attic. An extremely unpleasant odor will be noticed inside the house. No cause for these phenomena will ever be found. As a result, parents will often begin to suspect that their family is being stalked, or even that their home might be "haunted". Over the course of the twelfth night one of two scenarios will occur”

By now he had finished his drink. Calling over the waitress he ordered for another, a glass of Pincer Vodka. It was only after she came back with the drink that he continued after taking a sip. “Mmm oh wow that’s really strong. Mmm okay anyways. For one scenario that happens 15% percent of the time is for the lucky ones. The entity will not harm the family. Family members will report hearing footsteps inside their home during the night, though no signs of forced entry will be found. In the morning children will discover presents at the foot of their beds; these will consist of toys crudely crafted from the remains of human children”

Much like his first drink his glass became quickly empty. “For 85% of the time the second scenario happens. The entity breaks in like the other chance but it goes further. It will inflict incapacitating injuries to family members while they are sleeping, then herd them into a single room of the home where it will proceed to kill them one by one in view of each other. The method of killing varies with the event, and will typically be preceded by some form of torture, to serve some ritualistic purpose.” He took a pause. "I’m a survivor of a Weissnacht Event. And I wasn’t one of the lucky ones.”

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that a waiter were carrying around a tray of orange tablets. He reach over to grab some and place them on a napkin. “For later.” He noted before looking back at Richard. Letting out a sigh before continuing. “I had a big family. Ten sisters. We were at a winter cabin for the winter holidays. I was only eleven at the time.” He gave a sigh. Dark eyes look up to connect with Richard's. They do not reflect loss. But preservation. A ghost of a smile crept in the corners of his lips. "But I was a outlier for a survivor. I can't say what was going through my head. But I remember...that despite the fact I was coated in the still warm blood of my sister. I stood up, and I refused to let the monster break me. A certain power was impressed with my choice and awarded me by helping me kill the monster. And then resurrect my family with no memories of the event."

Nearing the end of his tale he scooted the tablets to Richard. Beckoning him to take a few. Setting his glass down he stood up. His eyes going over the crowd. “Anyway that is enough of me for now, So pop some of those tablets and let’s go out to dance on the floor.”

Learning that the new country he was not finding himself a sudden citizen of was one with a... Unique dynamic within the galaxy was something that surprised him. To wake up in an age where the things his society once considered vulgar were now rather trivial things and parties such as these were more accepted was... Well it was something he would need to get used to. Though it was somewhat amusing to learn that there was a tier list of sorts for deviant species. Humans huh... So that Is what Lincoln's species are called. It was strange for Richard to be seeing a species that was once a tenuous ally and then a devoted enemy getting handled by an alien. It was... Well surreal if anything else. Though to say it wasn't something had seen before was a lie. There was always one of two taboo couples cropping up back in the day... And to say that he personally didn't have his eyes for one would be a lie. Though that was all before the war, when relations were stable. "It will be something I will get used to in time, or enough drink." He says with a whimsical tone, of course it wasn't that easy but it will be easier to immerse himself and get experience that way. If he hopes to live in this culture, he has to at least learn to live it.

Though it was here that the light hearted whimsy of the Vampire Lord ended, as he listened to Lincoln's story. Hearing of this monster, the actions it commits with it seeking out children and the fates of those unfortunates who do not get the morbid 'gifts'. He was sickened to his core that such a wretched creature would exist... The beast had a well documented hunting pattern and grounds, an identified motive and evidence on its appearance. Lincoln was even a survivor of one of its hunts... It's no wonder why he would choose to live this new life where he did. To make sure no other kid ends up like that.. With all that in mind, he wondered one thing after hearing all of this and started to take a sip of his next drink.

He could ask a million things. The how's of its existence, the whys of its well documented hunts but not its immediate destruction... But from the sound of it, Lincoln's original home was a place of impossibly vile monsters, and little in the way to stop them without the no how... Though that made him think. Did he acquire these powers and swords of his through his first life or with the wishes... He could ask if he even got vengeance on the beast, how he even survived in the first place... But this was no place to bring up the trauma's of the past.

But gods be damned, his blood boiled in his veins at hearing all of this. There wasn't anything he could do about the situation since it was old news from a universe he will never see but by the moon hearing this was bad for his soul. Lincoln would be able to see it very clearly that he was an empathetic person, perhaps little easily swept up in desires for a just vengeance. A compassionate soul... To even hate a beast he had never or will ever meet on his and his families behalf.

"You've gotten me all angry about this vile monster. Haaaaah, I'm going to need more to drink." He says with a jokingly annoyed tone as he swigs down more of his vodka, a nice rosy hue settling on his cheeks from the alcohol. It seems like his regeneration wasn't working hard enough to stop himself from getting drunk, likely Richard himself was hampering his own healing to make it so.

Once Lincoln scooted the pills over to him, Richard was sceptical about having one at all while he listened to the personal mantra he had in his old life. Dying in the dark to serve the light.. Not a bad mantra. I wonder... His eyes drift off into the crowd for a moment as he picked up the pills, his expression was once of reminiscing, though of what it would seem he wasn't voicing it for the moment. He downed the pills with his drink to wash it down before standing, to hell with what they will do to him at this point. He's here to enjoy himself for once in a very long time. His smile returning as he looked to his new friend. "I trust you won't let me go too far overboard, I might still be recovering from a couple millennia of magical atrophy but I wouldn't mind the safety net." He says as he rubs the back of his neck, following Lincoln down into the crowd.

Lincoln waved his cup of Pincer Vodka at him. “I’ll keep a eye on you from here. You have fun out there my man.” He gave a grin. While he very much seems to be used to the nightclub life. In reality he’s mostly an onlooker. Preferring to sit in a corner to relax and be submerged in the raw stimulation of sound, heat, and lights. This habit came to be reinforced out of being raised in a matriarchal society that dislike men who partake in a party lifestyle. Naturally it’s not a problem if the women do it. Not that he has issues with it. He’s just not the sort of person to go crazy wild. Even with drinking alcohol he only takes up the glass on special occasions when he talks about his sisters. In a way he was drowning his sorrows. Yet he wouldn’t let that totally ruin the mood for anyone else.

The party floor was alive. Richard could see they were passing around stronger drinks that he could take. Then it finally hit him. The drugs that the nightclub hands out. The effects are rather unpredictable. They depend on the amount taken, the person’s mood and personality, and the surroundings in which the drug is used. Normally the effects will kick in ten minutes after one would take the drug. Not only would he feel the sensation that many believe to be enlightenment. But since he took a large enough amount. He’ll also begin to experience delusions and visual hallucinations. Sense of time and self changes. Sizes and shapes of objects become distorted, as do movements, colors and sounds. Even one’s sense of touch and the normal bodily sensations turn into something strange and bizarre. Sensations may seem to “cross over,” giving the person the feeling of hearing colors and seeing sounds. Thankfully there is a safety net where the drug was altered so that these effects won’t cause harmful reactions.

Back at the table, Lincoln watches his friend finally getting hit with an intense acid trip as he joined the equally stoned dance group. Already he could see Richard be grind against by other dances. Women of course who seem to be sharks that smell fresh meat in the crowd. Just as high as he is as they erotically tease the poor man. It does seem things can go south but he’s not concerned. At nightclubs like this there are plenty of undercover bouncers around that’ll intervene whenever patrons get too dirty. Granted it’s not always the case like with the Valorian but he chalk that up as no one wanting to disturb a Valorian doing the big gay. Or else they use their tail to bat them across the room. Still Richard was doing alright out there. Taking another sip he took a deep breath as he relaxed more in his chair.

"By myself? Are you sure- Okay. I'll just be over here... Figuring out what constitutes as dancing in this era." At first, Richard didn't know how to feel about going into the deep end with this, starting to wonder if the drug was even going to do anything to him. Though naturally that all stops when the ground starts sounding purple to him. The fact that his entire spectrum of senses was effected was something so debilitating to him that he lost balance more than once out there, either falling into other people or onto the floor to go in a roundabout way to pick himself up. With time his body could naturally work this drug out of his system pretty quickly but he wanted to ride it out.

Of course with this being mixed in with strong drinks and a rusty charisma, it wouldn't take long for him to get on the dazed good sides of some woman, of course he certainly didn't argue when some pulled him away to start getting handsy with him, and while he was pretty reserved about it earlier it seems that just the right amount of drink and whatever the hell this drug was doing made him juuuust the right amount of handsy back as they tease him. For a guy that has spent a good amount of time suspended from a ceiling it looks like he's reserved enough to not go crazy when around woman again, even if he was high as a kite and currently has enough alcohol in his system to kill a small horse.

Though that certainly doesn't stop them as they start swapping shots with their mouths, and with how choosey it would seem the undercover bouncers worked, Richard's restrains were getting lose enough that he leaned into the ear of the one grinding on him, a Ghashyr woman wearing a tube top and sweat pants, with her long hair being tied back in a ponytail with some glow in the dark body paint hand prints on her chiselled on her built midriff and some spiral patterns along her thighs and arms, he seemed to whisper something before he got a confused look before it turned into an interested one. With a toothy smirk exchanged between the two, Rich settled back against the wall with her continuing to rind. Though now with a little magical charge he created some extra appendages made of mana that explored her body for him, the tendrils extending from his body so he could feel and direct their attention to what they coiled around and groped.

His new Shyr friend certainly looked like she was enjoying what he could do, Richard's attention was soon taken by an adventurous Viscan in a nice little red dress and a jealous human friend of theirs, she had a nice tanned caramel complexion wearing a sporty tank top and matching shorts, both of them saw fit to 'borrow' his hands for some selfish self pleasure while the pair had some fun taking turns helping Rich sample some of the drinks. Of course he was all too happy to help himself to the drinks they were oh so graciously helping him with, making sure to swirl it between wrestled tongues while hands gripped and slide beneath cloth to get some playful skinship going. He was keeping up with them quite nicely. Though it would seem that when he gets drunk he likes to tease, he saw fit to do his best and edge these girls to their brinks and keep them there before personally dealing with each them one by one. A seemingly calculated move to try and not draw toooo much attention from the bouncers. Unless they do and decide that he was being too much of a bully to these girls.

A sloppy grin grace his face. Still managing to pay attention to Richard despite the blurry vision. He could see that his calculated risk was paying off. Iammelonians were lax in getting frisky in the right setting. It’s how that Valorian is doing the dirty with the Ialao no problem. True there are public decency laws that wag a finger as such notions like casual sex. At the end of the day you can get away with a lot of lewd stuff if you’re discreet about it. At nightclubs like this there is an unspoken agreement that patrons are allowed to be more raunchy than normal. Just don’t make a scene out of it. With the dim lighting and all the people around who are also under the influence of many stuff. You can get away with a lot of stuff here.

Before he knew it, two hours had passed. He long left his glass on the table. Not bothering to ask for a refill. There was enough alcohol in his stomach. So he kept to just lounge while watching Richard still out in the crowd. Smashed out of his mind no doubt. He wondered if he had lost all sense of time by this point. For him it could feel either minutes or hours. Everything is surly blending for him. As the night drew on so did the flow of drinks. Tablets are passed around more. And the party's still going strong. In fact the crowd was now both bigger and louder. Perhaps he should go in to pull out Richard to call a night. But decided against it. He needs this first hand experience. That and he’s still riding out the alcohol in his system.

He opened his eyes. Taking a glance at his phone he saw that three more hours had passed. It was midnight now. Yeah he probably should call it a night. Giving a grunt he got himself out of his seat. Scanning for Richard he saw him still partying hard. At this point his t-shirt was gone but thankfully his pants were still on but a bit...dirty. It was only when he got close could he see his upper body was smeared with body paint, lip stains, and plenty of love bites. The people around him were just as slathered in their degeneracy. “Hehehe alright ladies. I have to take my friend out now. I know, I know, you may see him again soon.” It’s well known that taking a well used boy toy away from thirsty women is asking for a bruisin. Luckily he knows how to evade the clanging arms of women.

Snatching Richard’s arm he pulled him away from the crowd. “Come on man, lets get some fresh air.” Easier said than done as he is sure Richard is not in his head at the moment. Dragging along a likely stumbling body didn’t help. Thankfully he got them outside to the nice, cold air of night. Going over to a curb he had him sit down. Lincoln would sit down next to him as well. “You seem to have enjoyed yourself.” He gave a crack of a slap on Richard’s back before looking up to take in the night sky. There wasn’t much light pollution from the colony so they were able to see a lot of twinkling stars tonight.

As the hours roll on Rich and the group of woman that were having fun with him went on to stretch afew limitations of the clubs rules without breaking public decency laws... Seeing as they were rather discreet about things. It helped that he was quite the multitasker, being able to control more of his formed mana tendrils while he switched his primary attention between the three partygoers that pulled him to a nice corner of the room in the first place. While it can be said that his pants never came off, it cannot be said that something did not slip out of it in discreet manners over the course of those hours.

By the time Lincoln came along to save him, it looked like he was just about on his last legs as is. Though he would argue that he was fine. Still he was too out of his mind to really say either way as Lincoln rescued him from the lions den, only missing a shirt in all this as he was brought outside the club, getting set down in the fresh air so he could catch his breath.

The feeling of fresh air on his face and Lincoln's slap against his back helped wake him up some as the regeneration started to kick into gear, helping to work the alcohol and drugs out of his system before he slumped slightly, groaning as he rubbed his temple with one hand and rubbed his back with the other. "Sweet lords of the night my head..."

Everything was slowly coming to him as his face grew redder and redder as he recalls every detail, his hands slowly covering his face, recalling the taste of southern lips on his lips. A low groaning drone was muffled into his hands as his perfect memory was working to his detriment. "Noooooo... Lords of the night I did so many... Things. And had things happen to meeee... Aaaaaah..." He says as he couldn't help but feel a sense of extra embarrassment washing over him, the ring slightly jostling around his neck as he grumbles away under the starlight.