milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Asmodean is at the piano. To fit the somber mood which seems to have fallen over the bar, a rather gloomy ballad with a dirge-like quality is playing. His hands dance over the keys as seems to be a touch engulfed in the music.

Come and listen to him.

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Asmodean shrugged. His voice is calm.

"The Wheel weaves, and all service is to the Pattern."

"Is that us, then?" He looks around again, feeling a little bit helpless but no less determined. "Why can't be be the Pattern, then? Someone's got to HELP, don't they?"

Asmodean shook his head again.

"We are but one thread of the pattern, and the Wheel is unrelenting..."

He paused.

"We can but speak of the turning of the wheel and the pattern with our music. For it is not ours to change the world, merely to tell the story as it is woven."

"You know, when I was very young, I gained an insight in three little words that changed my life. Would you like to know what that was?" He pauses dramatically. "Fuck the regulations," he says. "Just like that. We make our own ways with what we have in us. Even if all we can do is TRY.... well what can that hurt? Really, who can be hurt by us?"

Asmodean blinked. Suddenly, fire filled his eyes as he seized Saidin. The very air around him began to burn with the power surging through his body. Arcs of lightning flashed around him.

"I am bound to a calling deeper than most musicians, Lord 1900."

He returns the gaze levelly. There is no fear. The worst that can happen is death, and death is not so bad. He knows death. He would welcome it. But not now.

"Then answer it," he challanges, making a fearless grab at the lightening. "Don't answer to me, answer it. You know this is wrong. Death has touched this place and changed its music. We CAN touch that change, and we CAN try to heal it. Don't give me fire. I have lived my life on the sea, and I will die there. You cannot burn me any more than you can burn the sea." His power is subtle, he has no fire or lightening, but his power burns in him nonetheless, a divine Innocence. "Why are you fighting this?"

Asmodean chuckled darkly, an almost evil light in his eyes.

"Because I do not fight Fate. I make what I can of it."

He paused. The raging power around him died down.

"I am not a Healer, I am a destroyer."

"Healing IS destroying," 1900 insists. "It's destroying what will destroy YOU if you let it. You think what you have is power. It's nothing but a parlor trick." This isn't baiting. He really thinks they can change something. "I don't believe in hopelessness," he hisses. "And whatever Max may say, I don't believe in letting the world do with me what it will. It's been no kinder to me than to anyone, but if I don't try, what will I turn into? What will you? I ask you again, why are you fighting this?"

Asmodean just rolled his eyes.

"You are so very ignorant."

Saidin pulsed within him. A sinuous line spun out a portal behind him. It opened to about two and a half meters above the lake.

"The Wheel weaves, 1900, and please do enjoy the swim."

A gentle, but strong thrust of air pushes 1900 through the portal, which promptly vanishes after it's departure.

Asmodean returns to the piano calmly, and begins to play.

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