Eyes in the Shadows

You saw nothing. [ Nameless Garo of A C O ]

[robed-bones]

Outreach || The Nameless Garo and Kieron

[thesagelyknight]

He listened patiently, turning over the words his comrade was saying to him in his head. “Well, you always seem to be one step ahead of me, really. I’m starting to worry, actually. Maybe I’m a lot slower than I thought I was.” He said with a half-grin.

"Now now, friend. Don’t make such hefty promises quite yet! I’ll have to see the list to believe it, and perhaps speak with a few of them. Not that I doubt your abilities— far from it. It’s just incredibly risky for me to approach any surprising allies." He clasped his hands over his chest, trying to look innocent.

"Truthfully my friend, I don’t have any secrets worth bartering—well, I do, of course, but I think I might ask you to wait a bit. I’m sure in the future I’ll make it worth your while. That is the nature of rebellion, isn’t it?" He gave a charming smile, beaming at the Garo. Hopefully it’d be enough, if it wasn’t, it didn’t especially matter. He had enough secrets to go around, no doubt.

[robed-bones]

The spy narrowed its glowing eyes, then nodded. "Vhery well. You hhave alwayss made good on your promisses befohre, I hhave no doubt you shhall honor thisss one."

Its business done, it straightened up, adjusted its robes and scarf, and gave Kieron a shallow bow, but it paused for a moment before taking its leave. "Rhhemember," it said, waving a linen-wrapped finger, "Thiss ssecret iss qhuite exclussive, and vhery hhard to aquihre. I trussst you to have a dhamned good one in exchhange whhen next we sspeak."

And just like that, it slid into the nearest shadow and was, presumably, gone.

[robed-bones]

Outreach || The Nameless Garo and Kieron

[thesagelyknight]

When it was reported that the Oracle of Ages was dead he let out a long exhale of air, like he was deflating. Killing their own pawns? Even ones that had gone insane? It seemed a bit of a risk, given how well received the girls had been. The populace seemed to have a weakness for pretty girls. Perhaps that was why the Times had stayed silent.

He took another breath and deflated again, thinking. “Come now my friend, I know better than to report on news that hasn’t been made news. If I ever let thing spill, it means I’m at the end of my rope regardless.” He said with a wide smile, eyes glancing towards the blue violets that sat in a vase apart from the others.

He rubbed his chin, remembering he needed to shave in the morning. He was trying to think of some request, but the only thing he could think of could be exceptionally dangerous.

"After losing their dear sister, I imagine the other two Oracles should be..distressed, to say the least. If you can manage it—and it isn’t dangerous, perhaps you should feel for what their position is on all these recent happenings. It’s a long shot, but it’d be in the rebellions favor to create an alliance. And if the church killed one— like I’m sure they did, the other two aren’t safe."

He tried to think of the Oracle Nayru—a beautiful woman. If it wasn’t for his persuasion and the fact she was far out of his league perhaps he would have flirted with her once. And the other two— Helena would always be Haeyin’s little sister to him, yelling and getting into fights. And Farore…he frowned slightly to himself. The last time they’d spoke was over breakfast. It felt like ages ago, forever ago.

"Yes, I think contacting the remaining two is in order. What do you think?" He laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his stomach.

[robed-bones]

For half a moment there was something just shy of cheeky in the Garo's eyes and posture, that little bit of life flitting temporarily back into the undead fighter. "We ahre one sstep ahhead of you, Kierron, asss we often sseem to be."

"We hhave been whorking diligently in thhe passt monthss to gauge the possitions of sseveral figuress of note," it explained patiently, reverting back to its soulless soldier's stance and tone. "Youhr movement hass more power behhind it thhan you ahre aware, but it iss a scattered powerr. We hhave decided, for the purposess of both sstrength and ssafety, that it isss time that changed."

"We are conffident, ghiven a ffew more weeks' effohrt, you shhall find yousself whith quihhte the lisst of aliess," it concluded. "I asssure you the Oracless will not be thhe mosst surprissing names upon it."

"Now, it sseems," it concluded, crossing its glove-and-bandage-covered arms in a subtle mockery of a firm and intimidating stance as that spark of personality came inching back, "thhat you forhget our termss. Ssecrets fohr ssecretss, and thisss one shhhall be vehry expenssive."

[robed-bones]

Mourn the Dust (UC Bridge) || The Garo Warriors

As the explosions finally dwindled to a halt, and showed no more signs of starting up, the robed shadows moved back in.

Two hung from just under either side of one of the bridge's smoking remains, their feet hooked through the newly exposed framework that once supported the great structures, their scarves fluttering in the high-altitude wind as they swung lightly back and forth. Others were already investigating alternate (if unpleasant) routes to circumvent the destruction, but for not they opted for quicker communication, exchanging hand signals across the gap. Silent communication systems came with the territory.

The Garo had taken to traversing beneath the bridges when guards had been stationed above (until now it had been a favorite subject to murmur about among casual company when not on assignment, along with rain and mysteries and their handful of more troublesome marks). They had taken note the instant another type of shadow had arrived to crawl along the stone.

There seemed little to know, the exchange was repetitive at best. They were Sheikah. They were a cohesive unit. Trained. They worked uniformly and swiftly. They paid no mind to civilian casualties. It had not been known that they had been setting bombs until the bridges fell.

After all that could be said was, the spy on the side of the isolated islet hesitated for a long moment, then tentatively formed a few last signs, signs that had not been made in a fair few centuries.

The other Garo froze, swinging idly in the winds. One of the warriors had been investigating the explosives when they detonated. Those who saw were willing to be almost certain that warrior was no more. That was what those signs meant. Those signs meant that, as had only happened rarely in the undead unit's recent history, their already meager ranks had today been thinned.

The warrior's name did not matter, so few of them knew their names anymore. Whoever it was, they would be remembered nonetheless. The warrior on the Western District side gave and received the traditional gesture of respectful parting and left.

Mortal lives came and went as swiftly as candle stubs to an eternal race, but the loss of their own was different. It was a companion they had known and thought with for eons, one of the few members of a race that changed in the manner of a crumbling mountain, and with all the same speed. A companion they would never see again in all the further eons they might exist, and a companion whose fate they could not guess (the afterlife had become a tenuous myth for the trapped spies). Their numbers could never grow to replace those who fell, and so those losses remained, a slowly growing and irreversible missing piece. And like the crumbling mountain, they mourned the dust the wind ceaselessly swept away.

Worse this time was the feeling that with the Kingdom's changing tide, they would not have to wait further centuries to again start forming those signs.

[robed-bones]

Outreach || The Nameless Garo and Kieron

[thesagelyknight]

Kierons’ bruises had continued to make rest uncomfortable, even though he was beyond the the point where the nurses were worried. There had been plenty of jokes now— of how the young man was only there to play hooky instead of being hurt. Only the ghastly bruises and the dizziness marked that he was still hurt. And the healing gash, of course.

Being uncomfortable, it didn’t take much to wake the knight up, not that it had before. He’d drawn a sword at less than a cough before. But there he was, without a sword. Luckily his visitor this time was friendly. He winced, holding his middle as he sat up a little too quickly.

Not many would be so relieved to see a Garo, but the familar face(or lack thereof) made the knights’ shoulders relax. Paired with the smartass remark, Kieron couldn’t help but grin, the scarring allowing him to at least do that now.

"Hey now," He whispered, knowing that despite having his own room, if a nurse heard him talking they’d check on him, "I’m sure you’re incredibly handsome for a Garo. Don’t knock your own looks." He said, giving a good-natured chuckle before leaning forward slightly.

"To what do I owe this visit, my friend?" He asked, tone still remaining jovial despite what was most likely talk of business.

[robed-bones]

Kieron's grin was one of the rare occasions on which the nameless one felt that vague sensation of lightness it had forgotten the name for so long ago, if only momentarily. The levity faded quickly, that brief sliver of personality retreating from the dutiful shell of a warrior to make way for the matter at hand.

For as long as they had dealt with him the Garo warriors knew Kieron to be good on his word, and so it led with its own secret before requesting one he knew.

"It isss not a vissit of pleassure." It bowed its head slightly. "Thhe Oracle of Ages isss dead."

It allowed only a moment for the news to sink in before continuing. "The girl wass reported to be blind, and abssent of mind, in the prior monthss. The church was ever sswift to resst the blame upon the country'ss leasst favored citizenss." It shifted its stance. "We exphect no lesss from thiss. We trusst you to take stepss to warn those vulnerable to the fallhout. Do sso before the church's sstatement may emerge."

It paused momentarily, eyes wandering as it thought, then added, "We alsso advise you to try to keep a tight tongue rhegarding whhat you know. A ssuspected information leak in the chhurch could further thin the icsse beneath the feet of an individual of sssignificance." Its eyes focused on him again, and it added with emphasis, "To bothh of uss."

Its report done, the undead fell silent for a long moment, allowing the knight to take in the information it had given. After that, it inclined its head, looking at him expectantly for response and reciprocation--that was, after all, how these meetings always went.

[robed-bones]

Outreach || The Nameless Garo and Kieron

The Garo Warriors' spy network was truly something to be applauded, for the very reason that only a select few would ever know to do so. They were a perfect secret, the very name of Garo relegated to a lost legend to the scholarly and even less to everyone else. None ever identified a Garo unless the Garo in question wished it, and they worked very, very hard to keep it that way.

Thus, sneaking into public places was not something the spies ever made a habit of.

Contacts like these were easily the most difficult part of the nameless one's position, but given the situation the Sage editor had found himself in, it had been deemed a necessary risk. The second such 'necessary risk' within the week for the spies, in fact--escalating tensions never made their jobs any easier.

In through the nearest access point (a narrow window), find out if there's unmonitored ground (there was hardly any room under the floorboards, but the rafters were high and dark), get as close to the target as possible (right over the knight's bed seemed close until one factored in the 15 foot exposed drop, and the only walls to speak of were curtains), proceed with caution (pieces of furniture cast such lovely shadows against the outside wall in the dead of night).

It regarded Kieron from the foot of the bed for a moment before acting, for it hated waking people up. Even those who knew the Garo as allies usually yelled. Could it still make a throat-clearing noise? Never a better time to try.

It came out sounding more like a choked rasp (which was somewhat the standard for anything the spy said), but it served. Loud enough to wake Kieron, not nearly loud enough to alert anyone else.

It waited for the knight's wakefulness and attention before speaking, examining him coolly with lit green eyes and inclining its head ever so slightly.

"If it'ss any consssolatiohn," it rasped, lifting a hand to gesture vaguely at its old ally's new scar as something that might have been amusement glinted in those ghostly eyes, "You're ssstill thhe pretty ohne."

[robed-bones]

Outreach || The Nameless Garo and Haeyin

[aclockworksalesman]

The Salesman wearily made his way back through the streets of the Eastern District, stomach still churning at the fleeting image of his sister crossing the bridge to the North. She would be fine… With Farore missing and Nayru de… He shook his head, swallowing thickly, steps quickening. With Nayru gone… Din would be okay, for the time being. They wouldn’t kill her now, it would be too suspicious… She would be okay…

The thoughts weren’t nearly as comforting as Haeyin would have liked. His sister was still in very real danger… They all were. That stunt pulled the night before during the Masquerade was proof of that.

He suddenly felt a tug on the sleeve of his cape and paused, knocked from his thoughts, quickly turning to look over his shoulder. No one was there. Brow creasing, he scanned his surroundings, eyes finally settling on a dimly lit alley. Ah… Sighing shortly through his nose, the Salesman pulled his hood up more and slipped from the streets. He wasn’t terribly surprised upon spotting the robbed figure standing against the wall at the far end of the alley, but it never ceased to unnerve him at how still it always was. You never really notice that someone breathes until you interact with a being who doesn’t.

Haeyin stopped a few paces from the Garo, heart sinking at the question, his eyes widening slightly. How did… How did it know already?

"Word travels quickly among shadows, I see…" he muttered gravely, bringing a hand up to rub his face. He still hadn’t slept and the start of a headache was building behind his eyes. "As far as I’m aware… Only Din, Azrael, Farore, and myself know. Surely the higher ups in the Church have been made aware as well by now…"

Dropping his hand from his face, he added, “Din is making a few stops along the way back to the Church as we speak… I’ve no idea where, but whomever she is meeting with will more than likely also be informed of Nayru’s death.”

Red eyes settled on the cobble streets beneath his feet. He barely knew Nayru. He couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t take her own life but the possibilities of that were very slim… She just didn’t seem like the type…

Glancing back to the nameless undead before him, Haeyin asked, “What do you know about what happened to her?”

[robed-bones]

The nameless Garo lowered its head in acknowledgment of the information before it proceeded to address the question.

"Very lhhittle," it conceded. "We know shhe hasss been a very ... unfhortunate woman. Was ssaid to hhave fallen blind qhuite recently, and during masss spoke only nonsssense ." Its glowing eyes narrowed knowingly. "Payment for nonhuman ssssinssss."

A vague movement from within the hood indicated the spy was shaking its head. "No matter the manner of hher deathh, the newss shhhall not fall in our ssside's fhavor. Prepare for thisss."

For a moment it seemed as though it would be a standard report--the spy asking for one piece of tactical information and giving another in return before receding once more into the shadows. This time, however, the nameless one did not depart (despite how uneasy it was obviously becoming with being stared at for so long).

"... We hhear you mortalss like to sspeak in the termssss of games like chesss. We are not very familiahr ... but we undhhersstand it worksss besst when all piecess start on the sssame sside of the board." It inclined its head. "This shhall be the first missfhortune of many, and thesse fragmented effortsss no longer sssuite usss. We intend now to collect the piecess."

The Garo broke its stillness and stepped back, movements fluid and boots falling lightly and soundlessly on the cobblestones, and offered the salesman a shallow bow. "We sshall meet again to discussss alliancess between yoursself the othersss who shhare our causse."

And with that, as was the way of the Garo, it vanished into the shadows, leaving behind the very faint and momentary smell of thyme as the only evidence it had been there at all.

[robed-bones]

[Information page has been updated to include blog info and navigation. Still working on the rest.]

[rebe-p-arts]

The Shadweebs + Haeyin

introducing them to eachother was a big mistake, wasn’t it, Haeyin?

[robotrook]

Rook: eternally sober Garo trying to lead a completely hammered Cien safely home

Rebe: ”G-Garooo… garooo..yer… yer mah buddy… yer my buddy, garooo”

[rebe-p-arts]

"My, that hat makes you look positively gentlemanly, Lord Chesterhoneysworth!"

"Thank you. I do think your hat makesss you look quite gentlemanly asssss well, Lord Bloominhomingsssstein!"

"We are quite the hylian gentlemen, wouldn’t you say so?"

"Indeed, quite the gentlemen, yess yess"

[robed-bones]

Outreach || The Nameless Garo and Haeyin

The sun was still low in the sky the day after the hectic celebration and subsequent arrests, the shadows stretched over the Eastern District's streets retreating inch by inch as it rose. Despite the waking of the day, the city had been reluctant to follow suit. The diligently marching armed soldiers (and no doubt abundant hangovers) had kept most shut away in their homes as the morning drifted on.

Mercifully, it also wasn't raining. Considering that fact that thus far the red Oracle saw fit to follow every Hyrulean incident with a downpour, the Garo warriors had begun to fear she'd turn it into a pattern.

This time, the unnamed one's fellows had informed it, it seemed she had far more pressing concerns, and the Garo had much to do.

The Salesman hadn't ventured to look into the alley as he strode by, but it was doubtful he'd miss the gloved hand that caught his sleeve and tugged his attention away from whatever thoughts he'd been previously entertaining. The Garo would have vanished by the time he looked over, but the dim alleyway was the trademark invitation of a race that couldn't abide being seen--or bothering to set appointments. As he'd met with the spy before, the human would no doubt know what being summoned looked like.

The unnamed one's thin frame stood silently at the alley's far end, every inch of it eerily still, without even breath to ruffle its robes as it waited for Haeyin to approach.

"Whho elsse knowsss of the Oracle'ss deathhh?"

Its uniquely harsh and choked whisper of a voice made this Garo easy to identify among a people who would not show their faces, but it betrayed neither emotion nor whatever intentions it held.

[robed-bones]

Prank

He didn't quite know how long he'd gone without realizing he was being followed. It should have been obvious, or at least so he thought in retrospect. He'd just assumed that was a shadow, this was a branch tugging on his clothes, right up until his eyes passed an alley and he suddenly had to keep himself from tripping as the image caught up to him.

He looked again, blinking several times at the robed figure, standing casually against the rear wall, with its glowing green eyes fixed on him through a mask (he'd thought) he'd had tucked safely away in his bag.

"Your whhork iss admirrable."

"Give it--" he didn't have time to finish the demand before the Garo moved to return the newly fashioned mask.

"Your vigilance, hhowever, leaves sssomething to be dhessired." It sounded a touch amused.

All HMS offered in return was a withering glare, and the Garo could only look at him for a moment before shifting its stance and glancing away.

"Ihht's been a sslow day."

[jasdae-isleen-deactivated201503]

Drabbles

Nightmare: I’ll write my character having a nightmare about yours, or vice versa. Kiss: I’ll write our characters sharing a kiss, it can be innocent or passionate. Traumatic: I’ll write my or your characters going through a traumatic experience. Murder: I’ll write my character killing yours or vice vesra. Home: I’ll write our characters living together. Holiday: I’ll write our characters celebrating a holiday together. Prank: I’ll write our characters pulling pranks on each other. Scars: I’ll write your character touching my character’s scars or vice versa Sketching: I’ll write your character drawing mine or vice versa Warmth: I’ll write our characters getting warm. Solace: I’ll write my character comforting yours or vice versa Drink: I’ll write our characters drinking together Game: I’ll write our characters playing a game. Love: I’ll write our character’s falling in love. Death: I’ll write our character’s mourning over each other. Hate: I’ll write our character’s hating each other. Seduce: I’ll write my character trying to seduce yours or vice versa Old: I’ll write our characters growing old together Song: I’ll write our character’s singing or playing a musical instruments. Child: I’ll write our characters raising a child. Poem: I’ll write my character speaking a poem to yours or vice versa Insane: I’ll write my character is insane inside asylum and yours is the doctor, vice versa

[clockwork-kafei]

Send me confessions. Off or on Anon, IC or OOC, tell me what you think about another's muse.

[robed-bones]

They march.

"We ssee."

[clockworkcupoftea]

Let Them Eat Cake ((Shad, Kafei, Fina, ???, eventually Garo))

[clockwork-kafei]

Kafei found himself extremely confused when his running was interrupted and he was moved, hiding him behind a crowd of angry party goers. He looked around himself unsure of what had just happened. Am I having memory loss? Goddesses, I’m too drunk. He scratched his head, his face scrunching into a confused expression when he noticed the cloaked figure standing a little ways before him. He gasped and took a step back, wondering if anyone else could see this character. I’ve never hallucinated while drunk before… This is a first. He extended his hand and went to touch the figure and found that it was palpable. He quickly brought his hand back as though he had been shocked, his eyes widening when he realized he left a spot of icing on the his clothing. He was as real as everyone else in the room.

Kafei’s eyes squinted as he scrutinized the figure before him. He was cloaked and hooded, his face hidden behind a mask. His description seemed so familiar but he couldn’t place from where. Kafei couldn’t help but take a step forward to get a closer look at him, and that was when he spoke for the first time. He could’t help but bring his hand up to cover his nose, pretending to scratch an itch before taking a step back. I think he just breathed death on me. Kafei finally paid attention to the character when he mentioned “the non-human plight”. 

"My cooperation?" Kafei felt himself panic without even knowing what he was supposed to be doing. It felt oddly like home to know people he didn’t know depended on him. "What do you mean my cooperation? What are you asking me?"

[robed-bones]

The Garo watched impatiently as the young man slowly collected his wits, evidently trying to make sense of the world around him, before finally focusing on the Garo, giving it a long, confused look, before reaching out and ... poking it.

The Garo glanced once at the spot of icing left on the dress robes, and, in spite of wearing a full-face mask, still somehow managed to look up and give the runaway a withering look.

Why fate had deigned to give this one such political significance, it could only guess.

"Ssimply ssay nothhing," it replied, slowly and pointedly (so as not to confuse the inebriated prince), "and come withh me."

It was about as the last words left its mouth that it began to sense the crowd stir, and realized its time was about to be up. "Now."

It didn't give him much time to reply, electing to simply seize his wrist and drag him instead. It didn't have a surplus of strength, but the prince's unsteady footing ensured it didn't need it. He'd find himself stumbling after it whether he wanted to or not.

It was with great haste that it brought him to the tailor, handing him off without ceremony and hissing, "Leave immediately, and do not rhheturn hhere." No sooner had its words finished than the chandelier came crashing down in the middle of the ballroom floor, spreading darkness into which the warrior hastily disappeared, making its way at full speed towards the source of the hazardous commotion.

It'd be on ground duty for months if it missed observing an event like this.

[clockworkcupoftea]

Let Them Eat Cake ((Shad, Kafei, Fina, ???, eventually Garo))

[clockwork-kafei]

Kafei grinned widely at Fina standing beside him. She was a little firecracker, that one. He decided that next time he’d see her he would definitely spend more time with her. She seemed like a fun friend to have. He started to slip when Shad fell once more. He caught himself by the edge of the table before he had the chance to fall. He took Shad’s hands and pulled him upright. “You need t’be mo’ careful,” he said softly. “You coul’ get hurt. ‘Don’ want that. We nee’ yo’ brains.” Kafei looked towards the door, with two guards blocking the way. He bit his lip in concentration as Fina held off the soldiers before them with her fire balls. “Can ya figure out a way to git past the soldiers?” He leaned over to Fina and whispered to her, “You help Shad all ya can alright? I’ll make a distraction.”

Kafei straightened out his spine and hopped onto the fallen table’s edge, standing above Shad and Fina. “Hey!” He called out as the pair hastily made their escape. He watched as they began to blend in with the crowd, unsure if they’d be able to complete their mission. He winced with doubt but would do all he could anyway.

When the one of the soldiers started to go after Fina and Shad, Kafei jumped down and brought his fist up before connecting it with the soldiers nose. He shook his hand when an ache came to it and watched as the soldier found blood trickling from his nose. "You’ll be arrested for this!"

"I was goin’ to be arrested anyway," he said before he ran back off into the crowd. This wasn’t going to work. He wasn’t going to make it. Why did he bother to fight? He may have just made things worse.

My life ends tonight.

He didn’t even get to say goodbye to Jasdaë.

[robed-bones]

Given how swiftly the wayward prince was already running, the Garo didn't have to do much. Simply plant its feet and latch on to one sleeve, and with all of his momentum the drunken young man was quite suddenly running in a different direction entirely.

The Garo did its best to conceal his sudden change in direction, and surely enough, the soldier sprinted blindly right past.

Only then did it pause to steady the obviously dazed (and frosting-covered) gentleman.

Though Kafei now had full view of the force that had so suddenly diverted him, the sight likely lent neither explanation nor comfort. Its improvised clothing had fit in well enough from afar, but upon closer examination (something the Garo were hardly ever subject to unless they meant to be), the garments were outdated and, in some places, heavily worn down, the distressing on the sleeves quite obviously not done for fashion and the runes and symbols lost to any living culture. Strips of dark cloth had been used to give the loose clothing the illusion of a more modern silhouette, or perhaps in some cases secure it to the stranger's eerily thin frame. Its mask, for it still wore it, was etched leather, with sculpted fangs bared in a snarl. The rest of the synthetic face remained unsettlingly expressionless. Its robes smelled lightly of ginger, and even more faintly of something that brought to mind the most untouched part of an ancient archive or library.

It gave the Terminan time to observe likely only a fraction of that before it spoke, its rasp of a voice echoing within the full-face mask. "HHave no alarm, you shhall be esscorted to sssafety. Pleassse be sswift and disscreet, and sstate what you ssee thiss nighhht to no one." It held out a slim, glove-shrouded hand, wrapped in too much fabric for one who took it to tell that there was anything amiss. "Thhe non-hhuman phlighht may dephhend upon your cooperhhation."