I don't know....

His posture and expression suddenly shift, his face taking on the slightly nervous look that Prometheus had before this all started, and his stance shifting to something more typical for him.

Then he giggled, his voice slightly different, almost like he is putting on a feminine voice, even through the Hypnosis effect, "I am the Lonely Mage."

Sal cocked an eyebrow. He continued his questioning, "The one who calls themself 'the Lonely Mage,' what did you want with Promethius? What have you made him forget?"

"Want with Prometheus? Nothing. I am me, and he is he. His soul, his mind, they are his own." A small giggle passes through her lips once more, "Mostly."

"And they are my memories. How can he forget what he didn't experience? His eyes are stayed shut, while mine are always open. That's his problem."

"Very well, Lonely Mage. What did you do while his eyes were closed in Hampton Roads and Newport News?" Sal asked.

Blatant bitterness enters the feminine voice, "I tried to find my sister. My home is gone, my family is gone, my fault that, the fae kept their word. As is my second family, gone. Even the Vampire is gone. Gone again, gone again, love of my life, gone again. Then, like me, poof, dust in the wind to be buried under concrete and steel. Betrayed the Prince, got what he deserved."

Despite the bitterness she giggles again, which quickly devolves into a laugh, "And yet the Price of Freedom remains. Time and Fate, Death and Spirit, the decades pass and the Guardians leave, and its buried under steal, concrete and Asphalt, and even that's abandoned still. Death, death always followed by death, yet I can never touch it. Pretty little Arcanthus, scooping at the water and catching nothing, Yet still I drown.

All of those that witnessed it, are dust, long dust. And yet the toxic price of freedom remains. I can feel it covering me, even though Time and body and distance separate us, it never comes out. Even the ladder is gone and yet I can still feel the tears. How can I feel the tears when I don't have a ladder to be teared anew.

And yet my sister must still be free. The price of freedom is still there so Lilith is still free. I just need to find her."

Sal records with his slate as the entity known as the Lonely Mage speaks. He asked, "The Price of Freedom... is that what caused the resonance Promethius sensed?"

"Yes. Yes. They said that once it was on you, once it was in you, once it WAS you, you could never get it out. That she was nothing but that darkness. Taint and darkness and nothingness are forever. But she was being raped. And killed. And Tortured. Pain and pleasure forever and ever, until she didn't know the difference anymore. No creature deserves that.

I couldn't sit by... I had to...save her.

Sal asks, "How long have you been using Promethius to find her? Do you have access to his memories and skills? Can you communicate with him directly? Can you show him what you saw while his eyes were closed?"

"Today...or yesterday? Or maybe years ago. Could be decades even..." She considers her answer for a moment, "Using is hard. Using implies a plan...." Another giggle issues from his lips, "And I was never very good at that. Planning is what gets the Seers and the Pentacle into trouble in the first place. All tied up in their own strings, forgetting whats important. Fine threads that they weave like a spider, spinning and spinning, never realizing they trap only themselves and their delusions.

Vampires are better. They plan too, they get tied up too, but they don't stick their noses where it doesn't belong.

No, no...I don't plan. I do. So Today. Definitely today. Or yesterday maybe. Is the Sun still up?"

Unlike every other answer thus far, she actually considers the answer to Sal's next question."His memories...maybe. I haven't tried. I am me and he is he. That would be rude don't you think? Same with his skills...although I may need to borrow those. I....don't remember. Memory like a...something I don't remember. Gone, and gone in five seconds flat. Like a Pegasus...but it chases him. My memory chases him. He can't escape it. Nope, nope. I will remember eventually.

Besides... have you seen his hair. I can't makeup and hair dye this. To much computers, not enough occult in this one."

To Sal's final question she just shook her head, "I speak but he only hears himself. Like guiding a stampede. His ears and eyes are closed while mine are open. We can share, we can talk... I will serve him tea in his head if he likes...but as long as monkey neither sees nor hears me, nothing I can do...

He wouldn't like me anyway. Doesn't like me....never met me, uses my stuff and still doesn't like me. Rude is what he is. Judgey mc Judgey... I only went a little crazy." Just based on the tone, if she was in charge of the body, rather then the voice, you get the feeling she would have a manic grin.

Interesting, thought Sal. He asked,"What do you mean he 'uses your stuff?' What stuff?"

Prometheus' voice took on a tone best described as angry, "All my stuff. My Me, my past, my present, my future perhaps.... My hopes and dreams, my anger and outrage, my knowledge and Hubris, my madness and downfall. My death...

That's MY STUFF! He has no right! He should at least ask. It would make no difference but he should at least ask."

"Does he even know you are there?" Sal asks.

Prometheus paused for a long minute and then said, "I mean....no. His eyes are closed... but...." She trails off.

"...Thats not my fault...." She said finally...

"It's not his fault either, now, is it? Perhaps you should forgive him. Resentment isn't good for you," Sal said gently.

Prometheus is silent for a moment then with a giggle said, "Not even a little resentment? Drop in the ocean, can't hold it all in, no one can...but can't let it all out either. The guilty are dead, oh so very dead....So many failures, so much bitterness, so many people who ruined everything. All of it hidden by a smile and a laugh. And shopping. Fashion always helps. I looked good in heals.

I guess they are dust too...like the bones of those I helped...the bones of those I hurt. Did it even matter in the end...we all go to the same place, and always alone.

And every time I almost escaped, I ended up being dragged deeper. Loved then lost is so much worse then never loving at all. I know...they all think me mad for saying it, but they are blind to the truth. So many truths, all of them blind. Justice is blind, the guilty can see and that's why she's always chasing them. She hates them because they know what she never will.

They called me mad you know? So many different people, with so many different reasons. It was the Seers... no I was a Banisher that went wrong...no it was the Loneliness, no, I had a terrible awakening, no I was caught up in a cult, no it was the Abyss...no again it was the supernal...I asked to much, Hubris, even before I awoke. Around and around and around. Its enough to drive you sane only to go around the bend again.

Can resenting someone using my stuff really make things worse for me...I don't even know what I am anymore..."

It almost seems like she has finished and then she said, almost a whisper "Maybe...just maybe. I am me and he is he, but would their be a me without a he? Perhaps I should...it costs nothing...can't say that about anything else."

"I have asked much but offered you nothing so far. Is there anything you would like to say before we finish here?" Sal asks.

Prometheus spoke almost instantly, "What year is it? I mean I have seen a few bits here and there, but....the date makes no sense unless its been a long time. And if its been a long time...

Then I need to know how long."

She paused, and said, "And I'd really like a chance to go shopping. Like I mean yeah he was here first, but he is seriously Monochromatic. I want something to dance and sing and draw in. I mean I am clearly out of date on the fashion but dresses are still a thing right? Surely things haven't changed that much.

Please, PLEASE tell me they haven't changed that much."

She is silent for a long minute, and then added, "Oh, and I would like you not to kill me. Or banish me. Or torture me. Or anything like that. I think that's something I am meant to do right? Plead for my existence. Its just kinda hard to know what to beg if I don't even know what I am."

She giggled and cried in an overly dramatic voice, "Pleeeeeaaaase, pleeeeeeaaaaase don't do things of an unspecified outcome. I promise, I mean no harm. Probably. I mean I can't plan... I just want to find my family... please, please, won't you think of the children. And the dust. What is the dust of dust? Is that all you want to leave me with. Dust of dust, ash of ash, rot of rot."

Sal said, "The year is 2132. Dresses still exist, but I'd need to know your timeframe to say how much they have changed. As for your other requests, I have no intention of harming you in any way, and I will plead your case with Promethius, but we need him to open his eyes for an important mission. Once we return, we will discuss finding you a body of your own, and you may go shopping, dancing, or searching for your sister at your leisure. Is that acceptable?"

She is silent for a long time, before she said, "Mages then. No one else could do that. Mr. Cute Vampire, Hubris is caused by magic....not cured by it. I don't even know what I am and you think you can get me into another body?" Around and around and around the clock turns, and yet the ladder keeps falling they keep trying to climb it. The city burns around them, the yet the inhabitants try to stab each other rather then rush for the water. And the great dark grows and they only seek to destroy it.

But nothing is impossible to destroy. That's why its nothing. Yet they keep trying to...somehow. You can only fill nothing...or spread it out."

He giggles, "And you expect me to trust them? 5100 years to learn now and they still make the same mistakes they did before the lie. They who cannot accept the lie and truth are both real, both necessary and not in anyway limiting if you learn the rules. I trust them to fail, but I will be amused by the attempt."

"They may be able to place your mind in a synthetic body. To be honest, I don't know for sure if it would even be possible, but, as I said, it is something to be discussed. I can promise nothing more," Sal said. He considered the alternative: asking Promethius to allow this entity to take over his body, put it in a dress, and go dancing. No, asking him and Noah to play God seemed far more reasonable.

There was a minute of silence and then she finally said, "Synthetic...a robot? would that make me alive or dead? With a soul or without one? can circuits become dust...will I finally be free of the dust and death....can't drown that which never dies."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:01, Fri 08 Nov 2019.

Sal shrugged, and said, "I'm afraid I don't know the answer to those questions. I'm told synths have their own souls, and they surely feel pain and emotions. I would say they are no less alive than I, at least."

Mistral listened to this exchange while leaning casually in a dim corner, though perhaps it only seemed dim because she was in it.  She spoke up at last, “Alive or dead, soul or no... these are distinctions académiques for one in your state, are they not?  You would gain a body with which to enact your will, and that must surely be an improvement.”  She would advise Noah to implant this curious persona into a synth head sans body first, so they find out more about her before granting full mobility.  She didn’t need to know that, however.

She stepped out of the corner and into Prometheus’s view, or rather, the Lonely Mage’s view.  Looking the hypnotized mage in the eyes she said, “Bonsoir, madame.  You spoke of your sister, trapped somewhere now buried.  Trapped by whom, by what means, and for what purpose?  Speak plainly if you would see her freed.  We can be no help to you if you speak only in riddles.”

OOC: I am not sure exactly how much this spell works when someone else speaks, but for the sake of expediency I will assume it does.

Prometheus considers Sal, "Then we shall wait and see. As I said if nothing else it will be amusing."

She looks confused as Mistral speaks, before answering, "Riddles...she thinks I speak riddles?" She laughs, "The Guardian accuses me of riddles." The laugh gets louder, "Prometheus can't see it but I can. He thinks you could be an arrow...not sure, not sure is he. If she wants plain English I shall give it to her..."

For the first time, the expression on Prometheus face changes, to a brief look of concern. The Lonely Mage speaks, her voice riddled with bitterness, "I despise you and your kind. You are murders of the highest order. You ask me who buried her. She isn't buried...she is lost...she is dust....she is nothing. She is above us and below us and in our minds. She is at the edge of every spell cast, and it hurts...ohhh does it hurt so bad."

She growls, "I saved her from the endless dark, and you GUARDIANS PUSHED HER BACK INTO HELL! I HOLD YOU AND YOUR KIND TO ACCOUNT FOR EVERY RAPE SHE HAS SUFFERED SINCE I WAS MADE DUST."

She shook her head and mutters, "They who summon are to blame...but returning a victim to those who would enslave, abuse and corrupt her is almost as bad. And then they ask to save. Candy in one hand, knife in the other. That's the Pentacle, and that's especially the Guardians."

Mistral listened patiently to the tirade, arms crossed and face placid but eyes narrowed.  When the Lonely Mage had said her piece Mistral raised her brows and asked archly, “Are you finished, or will you tar me with further crimes committed by others before my birth, and about which I know nothing?”  She leaned in and hissed, “You seem to know very much about me, for one who does not know herself.  As it happens, I know something of torture et emprisonnement and am not in favor of such abuses.  I asked after your sister in case I might help, and you give me spite and venom.  Casse-toi et reste mort.”

Mistral abruptly turned and walked away, fading from awareness after two steps, leaving Sal and Prometheus alone so far as they knew.