Post by Cain Sterling on Sept 21, 2015 5:15:20 GMT -6
Cain opened the paint-peeled metal doors to the Chapel, a gust of compacted air lightly bursting out, the smell of dust and concrete a welcome to the smell of gunpowder and dirt that came with the Helicopter and the people on it. He spent their travel back the the Sanctum scratching at the dirt and scuff marks on his suit, silent as was their new guest Terra. He urged her to continue following him down the Chapel, to the blue-laden reactor room, its harmonic humming welcoming them to the vast anteroom filed with pews and adorned in multicolored cloth, strewn around the walls with no consistency as if to resemble stained glass windows. He smiled at Terra, a tinge of fear in his gut. He had not discussed with Clementine in detail what his plan was to gain Terra's compliancy, but he had hoped the surprise would have excited her. As it was, things were tending to get monotonous in the area. Little challenge, little progress, the laboratories barely scratching the surface of a project before Clementine forces them into an entirely new idea. Her impatience, he expected, was in wait of Terra, the final puppet in a show strung by Her.
There was no arguing what he did was bold. Clementine has never had traditional maternal instincts, childless til old age made it permanent, but he supposed the cultists were all her children, and the Marionettes her favorite. Terra was easily the youngest they recruited. Perhaps she would have thought of her already as her daughter... perhaps he's simply trying to rationalize himself before his assured scolding. But she is here now. There was no arguing its effectivity. Terra seems pliant, though wide eyed and cautious. It was only luck, Cain reflected, that Terra held family ties at a more important level than her valorous protectors, as incompetent as they seemed to be against the Marionette's combined might. If he had not been lucky, the traumatized girl would have stepped no where near the Sanctum. Painting her father as a villain, he mused, truly was clever. Whoever killed the man, Cain doubts he's any more than the rank and file zombies they keep in the Monastery. She would likely never be reminded, or so he hoped to retain the contradictory memories he implanted.
He had little to say to her, out of place in whatever ties he created for himself to the girl. Clementine is... Was... Will always be something. Beautiful and untouchable and the most important being in the universe, proven especially in the aftermath of a true apocalypse. He was fortunate to see her rise to this point, and to never have a child, or a closer attachment to another man. He had to be important to her. But what will happen now? He laughed himself to sleep at the idea of Julian losing favor with her as the Marionette's formed and proved themselves. But his main task, as exhausting as it was, was to help form them. What duties will she give now that the most talented individuals in Chicago couldn't complete together? Will he be needed anymore?
He has proven his loyalty. His love. He would be but a pet if it meant it was Her pet...
The door. His heart raced as he touched it, memories like a waterfall pouring every beautiful moment of Her on his willing mind, crushing him in elation. He cleared his throat before looking behind him, nodding to Terra with watery eyes he could not hold back. "Terra. Clem-- your mother, she's waiting for you. I will let you catch up with her alone, but I will be back to lead you to your initiation. It will be an assured success, no doubt. Meaning I must organize everyone for your ceremony, so by all means take your time with her. Catch up. I'm sure you both have much to say." He spoke loudly, resonating more towards the door than to Terra. Hopefully, he thought, she heard. He opened the door, his arm in offering. "Please, make yourself at home. Your new home."
There was no arguing what he did was bold. Clementine has never had traditional maternal instincts, childless til old age made it permanent, but he supposed the cultists were all her children, and the Marionettes her favorite. Terra was easily the youngest they recruited. Perhaps she would have thought of her already as her daughter... perhaps he's simply trying to rationalize himself before his assured scolding. But she is here now. There was no arguing its effectivity. Terra seems pliant, though wide eyed and cautious. It was only luck, Cain reflected, that Terra held family ties at a more important level than her valorous protectors, as incompetent as they seemed to be against the Marionette's combined might. If he had not been lucky, the traumatized girl would have stepped no where near the Sanctum. Painting her father as a villain, he mused, truly was clever. Whoever killed the man, Cain doubts he's any more than the rank and file zombies they keep in the Monastery. She would likely never be reminded, or so he hoped to retain the contradictory memories he implanted.
He had little to say to her, out of place in whatever ties he created for himself to the girl. Clementine is... Was... Will always be something. Beautiful and untouchable and the most important being in the universe, proven especially in the aftermath of a true apocalypse. He was fortunate to see her rise to this point, and to never have a child, or a closer attachment to another man. He had to be important to her. But what will happen now? He laughed himself to sleep at the idea of Julian losing favor with her as the Marionette's formed and proved themselves. But his main task, as exhausting as it was, was to help form them. What duties will she give now that the most talented individuals in Chicago couldn't complete together? Will he be needed anymore?
He has proven his loyalty. His love. He would be but a pet if it meant it was Her pet...
The door. His heart raced as he touched it, memories like a waterfall pouring every beautiful moment of Her on his willing mind, crushing him in elation. He cleared his throat before looking behind him, nodding to Terra with watery eyes he could not hold back. "Terra. Clem-- your mother, she's waiting for you. I will let you catch up with her alone, but I will be back to lead you to your initiation. It will be an assured success, no doubt. Meaning I must organize everyone for your ceremony, so by all means take your time with her. Catch up. I'm sure you both have much to say." He spoke loudly, resonating more towards the door than to Terra. Hopefully, he thought, she heard. He opened the door, his arm in offering. "Please, make yourself at home. Your new home."