<font color='698AAB'>The spinning in his mind ceases, and he can finally see straight. The first thing that Cynik lays his eyes on is the one known as Gabriel trekking down the dune, towards him. Cursing inwardly at himself, the orange-eyed monolith of a pendragon stands up. He was easily the size of a terran draft horse, nevermind his wingspan needed to lift his bulk into the air. Though he found his size was easily used for intimidating those who were weak minded, this Gabriel certainly didn't strike him as such. Therefore, after standing up to fully right himself, he takes a slow, deep breath, and sits down, folding his wings to his side. Cynik watches as the distance between he and this elderly, though hardly decrepit, pendragon makes his way down the dune, and simply awaits his arrival and greeting - should he use his voice first.</font>
<font color='#810541'>Drileahe watched as Gabriel walked over the the youth. His Pendragon hid cloak appeared and he put it on. He then walked slowly after Gabriel "who are you anyway?" he was so drawn in by his devistaing blackhole almost more dangerous than Yoh's wormholes and the bomb that he had nearly excaped</font>
<font color='#C0C0C0'><table width="320" style="border-bottom:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-top:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-left:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-right:1px #FFFFFF solid" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" align="center" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"><tr><td><p align="left"> <span style="font-size:10px;color:#000000;font-family:tahoma">Gabriel's heruclean stride remained unfluctuating; his pace never became expeditious nor too phlegmatic. Muscles rippled beneath his obsidian epidermis as his configuration failed to glissade down the rather steep dune. Perhaps it was his average stature, being merely five feet at the withers, that caused opposing pendragons to disparage him- in all reality he was stronger and more knowledgeable than his appearances foretold. Of course, that in an eccentric way was to his advantage- for few knew of his dexterity unless they were a master of telepathy or in Drileahe's case managed to provoke him enough to engage in warfare. His obsidian mane which sonorously was composed of apical blades descended from his pericranium to the equidistant of his spine. Dappled upon the tip of each stiffened hair blade was the a resonant tint of scarlet chromatism; his hair did give him a rather irrelevant appeal, though he never minded such matters. Onyx pupils centered within a natatorium of crimson were narrowed slightly upon the company of Drileahe- his character didn't appease Gabriel any, but as twas habitual, he remained polite. Despite various facts that would have pushed any individual to kill the one on his periphery, the male 'dragon virtually always felt ataraxia or peace in his mentality. The SHPSR was still dangling idly from his svelte shoulder blade; concealed behind a crepuscular spell which made it impalpable to one's visual perception and unfelt to the touch. For one could skim against him and know not of it's existence, it a way it was as if the riffle wasn't even contemporaneous. Upon glancing over the cloaked Drileahe, the masc could only perplex himself over the matters- why one moment the deranged individual was attacking him and the next he was as imperturbable as could be. Perhaps it was a masquerade because of Cynik being around; Gabriel was still uncertain, but he'd state his branding... No wait... He wouldn't, for the day he'd probably go under a different alias; the obsidian 'dragon didn't need others knowing his identity for than they would find out about his family... However, the Hirosuki name was well known, and held up a reverenced repudiation- even in Bhim. Gabriel was known among the society, though it wasn't as if individuals would vociferate out and scream his name, wish him luck, and such pathetic matters. They'd merely glance at him, recognize his configuration, and move on without giving him any vexations- maybe a few now and than would dip their muzzles in a nod upon happening to glimpse over him. So, it wasn't like he was "popular" -- just more or less respected, but certainly not an "idol". Gabriel's children were the most cherished individuals in his life; to not take a contingency he'd use one of his various alias, all intricately woven into his analytical mentality. Unless a telepathy, Drileahe probably wouldn't know the difference... Gabriel's baritone vocals reverberated from his larynx, escaping lingual cavity through parted jowls over a response; he did have a rather English provincialism. <b style=color:brown>"The one at the brink of existence... Joshua Djix."[/b] He continued to perambulate over the particles of desert grit, leaving gargantuan marks in the alluvium; prints which were to douse away as the eastern winds heaved by. His voice was indifferent; he didn't like destruction and death... Well, unless it came from a thermonuclear weapon- now those certainly always appeased him in an eccentric way. As for opening devastating black holes at will, well Gabriel had yet to find a way to retrieve the individuals with whom he caused to "vanish". What happened to living matter when it was devitalized into the atramentous realm, the masc had not even a modicum answer. He'd presume that the creature would die for their body tissues could not withstand the journey; infact, ever since he "killed" a couple pendragons in that expedient, it only made him wonder... He was more careful now and usually upon having the dark energy manifest the attack, he'd hold the opposing back from being sucked into the caliginosity-- least they provoke him, he'd let go... And upon them being dissipated, well Gabriel tried to not think about that. </span></left></tr></td></table><center></font>
<font color='698AAB'>Cynik doesn't let even the slightest wave of recognition flow over his facial features. He knew Gabriel's introduction was a lie the moment it escaped his mouth. But, it wasn't Cynik's place to say anything; he preferred not to get in the middle of petty arguments. And most debates fell under the 'petty' category. Cynik didn't know why Gabe did it, either. He's a gifted telepath, not an empath. The difference was one delved into memories and another felt emotions. Cynik wasn't touchy-feely, and didn't deal with emotions. Ever. It wasn't as if Gabe had put deep thought into the lie, but it was well performed and believable. Cynik lets sleeping dogs lie. He, however, hadn't been asked for his name, as of yet. And thus he wouldn't volunteer it. So he either had to decide how to slip away while the two quarelled, if the second started something again, or chat amiably, and get away some other time.</font>
<font color='#C0C0C0'><table width="320" style="border-bottom:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-top:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-left:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-right:1px #FFFFFF solid" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" align="center" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"><tr><td><p align="left"> <span style="font-size:10px;color:#000000;font-family:tahoma">Gabriel had his reasons to fabricate the truth; infact he did pull off the aspersion with little endeavor, of course it was true the obsidian masc had multifarious aliases. He went under another branding for the sheer fact that he didn't trust Drileahe; even though that deranged master had become phlegmatic, or so it seemed. The maniacal one convoying along his periphery made the male 'dragon perplexed, though not agitated. Quadrupeds astringed than exonerated, propelling lithe configuration several feet down the sand dune, Gabriel landed upon monolithic pedicles expeditiously; it was a diminutive attempt to elude Drileahe "off his ass". At the present timing he didn't need another individual who just started an incursion with him to abruptly be benevolent- the facts never settled befittingly in his analytical mentality. Being polite, Gabriel lowered his onyx muzzle and convoluted his right forepaw in a conciliatory obeisance. He wasn't trying to impress Cynik, twas sheer habitually; from his youth, the masc was taught to reverence others despite their age. The opposing pendragon's monolithic physic intimidated the obsidian masc none; shape, color, nor size made a difference to Gabriel. Triumvirate plumes skimmed idly over the particles of desert grit upon a bedimmed rhythm; the duo conflagrations of crimson chromatism continued to oscillate almost inconceivably... Thus not distracting any attention from near or afar. Reclining upon herculean hackles the male 'dragon scrutinized Cynik with sombre pupils centered within a natatorium of crimson which twas swirled impassively with sierra hues. He was nearly certain, perhaps with only a modicum of demur that the young pendragon was shape shifted earlier into that of the avian raptor. Never the less, baritone vocals reverberated from his larynx in colloquy. <b style=color:brown>"Salutations stranger... I don't believe we've met... I'm Joshua Djix; may I inquiry your branding?"[/b] Gabriel would have told Cynik his indubitable name, though Drileahe was around and he wasn't going to take a contingency; not that the male 'dragon underestimated the opposing to actually let him know his genuine branding, he just sensed that Cynik wasn't demented. The masc did notice something peculiar about the pendragon, even though he wasn't a telepathy, empathic, or even dealt with any trade which concerned the mind. To control an individuals intellectuality... brain... apperception... Was a powerful and lethal adroitness, Gabriel knew that for certain. But it was astonishing to see so many who didn't think of such trades to be impregnable. It was also sad to note, though Gabriel knew it not, Cynik had peered through his mentality; all the abstruse details of his life were fastened away in the posterior of his cerebrum, and the other pendragon with his deftness could mischievously read every fragment of information... He could espy every reverberating memory, but could not feel the pain, despair, anger and hatred -- perhaps it was best... For Cynik not to comprehend the feelings and emotions which flogged Gabriel on a daily basis. Though it seemed unlikely, enshrouded behind an opaque veil of strength. Gabriel had experienced emotional and intense physical pain; witnessed enough deaths which were too numerous to cipher; felt the despair of losing family, his parents, wife, children, and beloved friends; and to note he had the constant, day by day flash backs which sonorously mocked his soul. The male 'dragon had profoundly felt every emotion but fear; for such from birth never flowed within his blood... Oculus narrowed, though not out of an acrimony nature but rather the sheer fact he was always scrutinizing the acreage intently; he was aware that should the winds shift toward him, perhaps radiation would as well -- he kept that in his mentality, and with any given sign of the alternating weather, he'd be the first to dematerialize. </span></left></tr></td></table><center></font>
<font color='698AAB'>Cynik watches the kiom display courtesy to him, and is suddenly remined of his own grandmother. She was always courteous, no matter how obnoxious anyone who came to seek her advise got. It was this pairing in Cynik's mind alone that allowed the young adult to agree to try and trust this one. <span style='color:#FA8630'>"Cynik Rasa'myeja."</span> is the simple reply. The monolithic pendragon keeps an eye on Drileahe, while attempting to catch Gabriel's direct gaze. It was true, Cynik had read all his memories. And he was quite gifted, so it hadn't taken very long at all. Now, however, that a bond was formed, in Cynik's mind, between a comparison of Gabriel and Vosoja, he would share a few choice images of his own with the kiom. <span style='color:#FA8630'>I'm not among the normal of my sex; telepathy is my trade, gifted down my family line. In return for your memories, I share my own. You are owed that much for my thievery.</span> The mental wavelength of the telepathic whisper would only reach Gabriel, as Cynik was talented enough to direct such mental tricks. A flickering moment, and Cynik's flame colored orange optics flow to a stark white, engulfing the entire eye, not just the pupil or iris, but the entire organ, then equally as quickly back to orange. The change could be likened to watching a few wingbeats of a hummingbird. Drileahe would be none the wiser if he had his eyes closed, or hadn't noticed the minute change. During this change of color, Cynik transfers his own memories to Gabriel's mind. The back of the brain was where he directed them, where sight reigned as the controlled organ. The memories he shared were select, that of himself as a nioti; happy with his parents. Some of his grandmother, watching her perform her trade of being a seer, and how nurturant she was. He included the memory of the moment he discovered his parents dead. Not a fond one, to be sure. The murderer hadn't a rifle like Gabe's, so the end result was very.. messy.. to say the least. The final memory he gifts to Gabriel, is himself in aktrieor form. He'd sensed the kiom's musings, and felt the need to answer them positively. Yes. He was the air-borne spy. The memories, of course, were in first person from Cynik's point of view. And while each could have lasted hours, the entire transfer took only as long as it took for the color change in Cynik's eyes. And due to his directing them first to where the mind controls sight, Gabriel would have viewed them as if it were happening to him, in real time. Not something Cynik usually did. But he had confidence the aged warrior wouldn't lose control of himself. The moment over, Cynik awaits a reaction, but stares rather blankly, off into the dunes ahead of him: he found pretending he was dull allowed him escape. And while escape from Gabriel wasn't the issue anymore, possible escape from Drileahe, was.</font>
<font color='#C0C0C0'><table width="320" style="border-bottom:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-top:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-left:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-right:1px #FFFFFF solid" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" align="center" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"><tr><td><p align="left"> <span style="font-size:10px;color:#000000;font-family:tahoma">Orbicular auds swiveled about his onyx pericranium upon the simple and self explanatory response; the pendragon's branding, Cynik Rasa'myeja... Such a name seemed versant, yet was so far; indeed it twas true that Gabriel had "rendezvoused" with Tukja and Mayana a multitudinal years ago. Though the male 'dragon knew not even a modicum concerning their death, the meeting was diminutive in which they each separated into dissimilar directions -- paths which were never to transverse again. It was than that the masc's sanguine oculars levitated upon the opposing youth's gaze; the memories and perceptional images reverberated within his mentality... It was as if he was there, espying and feeling the past mnemonic. Though sonorously the time seemed extensive -- it was merely a fraction of a second. Out of all the memories, the ensanguined panorama of his dead parents perhaps caught the attention of the kiom over all... For it was those scenes which brought back the memories of Zoracia, laying inanimate upon the steps of their estate; her bittersweet blood splattered across the alluvium and wooden aperture. The liquid of life trickling down her beaten face, numerous gashes, bruises, and torn pieces of flesh made her configuration literally imperceptible. A bullet shot to her heart perhaps was the cause of death, though the astringent beatings could only have suggested physical and emotional rape before her initial last breath. The crystalline tears and panic-stricken screeches of Davis, Thai, Xahitora, Nadia, and Dagma he remembered clearly... The worried and distraught expressions of his older sons and daughters made his spirit plummet into an abyss of depression... And together all the emotions of his children, penetrated even the strong hearted Gabriel, causing him to sob in tears. He mourned and took her death as his own fault, for the male 'dragon was too late to emancipate his beloved wife from the sinister, malevolent, inhumane treatments of a paid assassin... An assassin he later killed... and tortured... in sheer acts of revenge. He still found it laboriously hard to tell his youngest daughters, Julia and Kida of their mother's death; all of which never knew, for they were not even a year of age when Zoracia's soul took the journey between life and death, into the Fronmia. Though, the ginger memories of Cynik's grandmother nurturing the young nioti did relate to Gabriel's own bedimmed past- the love, affectionate, yet discipline reminded him of his parents... No memory nor meeting of his grandmother did the male 'dragon posses, for he had never met the elder; she was dead before Gabriel was born, and as for his grandfather... Well the masc had reminiscence, yet those retrospections were abstruse in the astern segmentation of his cerebrum. The vision of him as the air borne spy; brought reassurance in his senses... His strong feelings of being watched never did fail the male 'dragon; and that diminutive nagging of his mentality caused the constant watching of the avian raptor, all of which was the shape shifted Cynik. He knew it, there was not only one witness to the atrocious fight but rather two -- an evil and a good... Both of which were spectators of his adroitness, they saw his strength which Gabriel had always preferred to remain enshrouded behind an opaque masquerade of his benevolent nature. And than it was over; not a mere expression was present across the facial complexion of the masc. Though perhaps Cynik could apperceive the regret and profound despair which still lingered within his soul upon the flashes of the youth's dead parents which soon led to the memories of his wife's death. Gabriel kept it up though, that reticent emotionless masquerade across his muzzle and within his unwavering gaze- Drileahe would have never known he was a "softy", at least not in the way that the male 'dragon managed to keep his mentality together. However as soon as the emotions had flogged his heart, soul, and spirit they merely dematerialized. That's how the old kiom was, at least in the present days; never known to feel emotions of despondency for more than a few mere seconds, a minute at the most. But of course he wasn't "cold hearted"; it was just his character, the way this individual was and no one could change that. Infact Gabriel never cried again after the death of Zoracia, perhaps with her death she took the part of him which could express disconsolateness with tears... Maybe such matters only made him stronger -- as he never detruded himself to crying; even if the masc laboriously tried, he could not sheath a tear. <font color=brown>{I feel your pain and thank you for sharing your memories... You may choose to believe me or not in such matters; but since you have already peered into my mentality, I am sure you know my past and the deaths associated with my being... I wish to say sorry for my lying tongue, the mere presents of the deranged one behind thee has caused my actions. Tis, I sure you already know... But my genuine branding is Gabriel Nemisus Hirosuki; though I believe it would be wisest if you called me Joshua... At least around the other...}</font> Gabriel had cast a crepuscular spell, causing his telepath to be obscured, imperceptible, and jumbled to any individual but Cynik... Thus if Drileahe did happen to pick up segmentations of the telepath, the orals would make no sense; though the chances of the deranged one happening to receive the faint whispering of his mentality, would be insignificant... If Drileahe attempted any other nonsense, Gabriel was sure to "dispose" of him; one way or another... This pendragon didn't feel like taking any shenanigan at the current timing. </span></left></tr></td></table><center></font>
<font color='698AAB'>Cynik doesn't even move, though a telepathic whisper is transferred, <span style='color:#FA8630'>I will not give you away.. Joshua.. I have no interest in a quarrel, or being the spark the sets off another fire fight.</span> Cynik always tended to whisper when he telepathed. He spoke slowly and clearly, but rarely ever loud. Perhaps it was because he was so vicious on the outside, yet was truly none such on the in. It was also due to the fact that this young adult was nothing short of a hermit, forced to live in the world. Forced of his own volition; as his cause could not be solved by living in the woods, far away from life. No. Into the bustling masses of pendragons he despised before he even met them. Though, he needn't meet them, considering all their memories were his own within milliseconds. Many deserved to be despised, Cynik had found. But it wasn't his place to carry out revenge on them for others. He was no saint. That much he had in common with this kiom before him. His quest was his own. Leave the world to itself. Having not moved a muscle, Cynik calmly waits for Drileahe to make his move. After all, mere seconds had gone by since he had questioned Gabriel, and Gabriel had returned the answer. Likewise for Gabriel's request, and Cynik's own reply. The khatt board was set. And the pieces were in motion.</font>
<font color='#C0C0C0'><table width="320" style="border-bottom:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-top:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-left:1px #FFFFFF solid;border-right:1px #FFFFFF solid" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" align="center" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"><tr><td><p align="left"> <span style="font-size:10px;color:#000000;font-family:tahoma">Thread closed... Jon isn't going to reply or so it seems... Zeva after you reply again (That is if you want to) can you close this thread and move it to the Ramathian scrolls? The obscurity was reticent; a bleak semblance cloaked the surrounding velocity, like an opaque veil upon one's facial complexion. Gabriel remained reposed in a sitting demeanor, his triplicate appendages inanimate over the desert alluvium. Not a muscle twitched beneath his obsidian epidermis which twas dappled with a labyrinthine pattern of sierra contortions. Onyx bracketed oculars remained unwavering and tranquil, anchored forward but not at Cynik- rather the destruction which enveloped the wasteland behind them. Perhaps the only intonations that could be heard by one's auditory perception was the virtually imperceptible breathing of the three individuals -- nothing more. Curvilinear auds swiveled about his pericranium idly; though soon they remained erect, daring not to palpitate. Gabriel was scrutinizing the acreage, noting ever detail, be it a mere modicum. However, it seemed as if he was confounded, perhaps perplexed- a habitual masquerade. The male 'dragon was not wishing to waste anymore time with such an individual as Drileahe; a being whose mentality was demented, maniacal, preposterous... The kiom merely dipped his ebon muzzle in a effervescent nod at Cynik; he agreed, Gabriel had enough with such pathetic warfare. This weaponry master had the dexterity of murdering Drileahe in a fractional interval, a mere parcel of a second. Though that wasn't like him, he'd let him live... And perhaps this "master of evil" had been humbled, though such changes were probably insignificant. He took yet another penetrating gaze at the nuclear detonation site, calculating the crater capaciousness in his analytical mentality. It would take years for the radiation to ameliorate, but Gabriel only used thermonuclear weapons on rare occasions... The entire planet of Ramath-Lehi would have been radioactive if he was a hydrophobic, violent, fanatical individual; of course this kiom was anything but. Ruggedly chiseled crania inclined heavenward as his ebon muzzle sniffed the atmospheric velocity; atramentous pupils centered within a chromatism of dahlia narrowed into a slits, resembling that of a feline's in intense coruscation. If anything, Gabriel was about to dematerialize -- Cynik probably knew the supervened for the fluctuating winds had deviated toward them. Meaning radiation could sheath it's lethal trail of affliction in their direction, perhaps such queasiness would reach the area... or not? But Gabriel wasn't to take the contingency, and besides -- there was nothing of importance here at least in the current duration. <font color=brown>{The alternating weather has shifted the winds; I know without demur you have sensed the supervened... It was my utmost pleasure to have met you Cynik -- perhaps our paths will transverse again... Farewell...}</font> His cranium twas descended beneath herculean shoulder blades in a amenable bow; that habitual asymmetrical and delusive grin crinkled across the kiom's jowls as he merely pixilated from the apex of his perpendicular plumes to the extremity of his muzzle... Gone. Not even the monolithic impressions from his massive pedicles remained, perhaps they had evanished with the tentative winds or dematerialized with the elder 'dragon. As for their paths crossing again, that twas left in the hands of fate and no one else. Gabriel had left as expeditiously as he had come -- such was a characteristic of this pendragon. </span></left></tr></td></table><center></font>
<font color='698AAB'>Cynik watches silently, not returning a reply, as Gabriel abruptly vanishes. Really, he expected no less from the kiom. Vanishing was some sort of elemental magic thing, he believed. But since Cynik didn't bother with much magic, he didn't know. And honestly, he didn't care, either. The disappearance of the quiet assassin complete, and Cynik left alone with the homicidal maniac with the branding of Drileahe, the monolothic pendragon decides to take his own leave. A little trick of the mind to 'persuade' Drileahe that he was still sitting calmly where he was, Cynik truly transforms and bolts off running. After all, this avian was meant for running. By the time Drileahe would realize that the image of Cynik sitting was a mirage, he would already be long gone, in his aktreior form.</font>
<font color='#810541'>He formed a small black hole in his hand i dont think that was his real name but that does that matter. Quite strong, and useful is his magic. I'll keep him in mind next time i have problem. mybe Yoh could convince him He glanced at the mirage child's play He sliped on his hide cloak and it fell in a tangle to the sand as he vanished</font>
