2019-03-03 15:15![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lux_mariko
lux_marikoStory: The Pale Rider
Year:
Word Count: 1295
Rating: R
Characters: Rubika, Guardian Sanchez
Warnings: Discussion of war
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. I am back, with Plotty things! This takes place shortly after the last Rubika piece. Rubika and Sanchez also refer to Simon as David here.
The moment he got in, Guardian Sanchez knew there was someone in the projection room. He hesitated half a second, but--the only people who could get in were Family members. Everything was equipped with state-of-the-art DNA scanners.
Of course, the Family was large, and there were at least a dozen very dangerous members living.
He collected his pistol and panic button from his desk drawer, made sure both were accessible, then made his way over to the door.
There was a young woman, standing on the main platform, with the tree activated. One of the messengers, a little girl he'd picked out for the job nearly two decades ago. Rubika Kesilen, from Lila's line; she'd grown up on Charon.
"Rubika?"
"Papi," she said quietly. "I need to talk to you."
"Of course," he said. "Anything." Rubika had never crossed any lines like this before. In all the years she'd been doing active work for him and the Family, she'd been an exemplary messenger.
And now she was suddenly dropping out of contact for two months and reappearing by breaking into the heart of the Family compound.
"What did David do? All you ever tell us is he committed a crime. And that shapes all of us, so I think we deserve to know. What did he do?"
"Why do you want to know?"
She turned, and her eyes were pale and empty. "I need to know why I am what I am, Papi. Why there are three others like me, too. Why my sisters and I are here."
So, it was happening. Something every Guardian had feared, especially since the Broken Branch had finally...well, broken. Everything centuries of research and work had unearthed, all the bits and pieces that he'd been able to tell them, when they found him in his periods of lucidity. All the bits and pieces they'd gotten when they, on rare occasions, glimpsed the angels.
He put the gun down on the table. It wouldn't do him any good--not against what Rubika had become. "Who are the others?" he asked.
"You answer my question first."
"We know less than you think," he finally said.
"What did David do?"
"He killed a man. Or, more accurately, allowed a man to be killed. We can continue this conversation in my office, it'll be more comfortable."
Rubika shook her head. "No. I want to be here." She turned away, studying the tree. "Everything the Family built, all those generations, all that...life. I want to be here." Her voice went soft, almost longing. Then she shook her head and, though she didn't turn back, her voice hardened again. "What do you mean, allowed a man to be killed?"
"He helped set up a situation that resulted in a death. He was...manipulated. From what we've been able to find out over the centuries, he was born specifically for that moment."
"Truth?" she asked.
"Truth," he said. "I don't lie, Rubika. I keep secrets, but I don't lie. Not to the Family."
She nodded, accepting that. "Why are we here? Me, and the others?"
"Because the circumstances are finally right, I suppose." He kept his voice a hell of a lot lighter than he felt. The last thing he wanted was to make her any more upset than she already was. "I told you, Rubika, we know less than you think."
"But you know what I am."
And wasn't that a loaded question. "Yes."
"And you know what that means."
He nodded. "Bring the others here. We can protect you, help you make the best decision. That's why we're here. That's why the Family has kept such close track of itself, because we knew...we knew everything would come from us."
"How did you know?"
These were secrets he wasn't yet ready to share. Not even with her. Not until he knew more of what she was planning. If she was even planning anything--Rubika never had been one to think ahead much farther than the next stop on her route, even before she'd become...this.
And, hell, maybe that made him just as bad as the angels, but wasn't that what the Guardian was for? Protecting the Family secrets, preparing for the end, making sure the Horsemen--and the Fruit of the Broken Branch, if they could ever get to her--made the right choices?
Still, it was a damned slippery slope, and a part of him hated himself for not trying harder to stop his descent.
"We research," he temporized. "We talk to David, when we can. We make educated guesses, based on what little we do know. Come home. Bring the others. We can work everything out."
Rubika turned away from him again, her empty eyes scanning the tree. "Where is Mariko?"
Hell. "I don't know."
She traced one of the red threads of light with her fingers, and it shivered, bending away from her. "I think you do, Papi."
"I wish I did."
"Tell me where to find her. Or even just where to start looking." She pulled her hand out of the projection. "Or tell me what would happen if I touched you."
His hand, automatically, went for his panic button, even though it would be about as helpful as the gun. "Probably nothing good. But we know less about the four of you than we'd like. We thought we still had centuries to figure everything out."
"Help me find Mariko, Papi," she said. "My sisters and I have work to do."
"Killing her won't stop it." Based on what he did know, if the Horsemen were active, there wasn't anything that would stop it. All he could do--all the Family could do--was try to minimize the damage.
Rubika shook her head. "That's not what we want."
"What do you want?"
She turned back to him and smiled, a ghostly smile, pale and hollow as her eyes. "When we figure it out, I'll let you know."
He hadn't been named Guardian and kept the Family together for over two decades by letting on when he was afraid. Still, in this moment, it took all the habit and training he had to remain calm. "I can't promise anything."
"But you'll help me?"
For a long moment, he hesitated--he wanted to give in, because it felt inevitable. She was inevitable. But he didn't want to cave just out of some sort of basic instinctual reaction to the Pale Rider.
On the other hand, if he did help her, if he stayed close to her and the other Horsemen, if he found Mariko, he would be in the middle of things. He would be better placed than anyone had ever dreamed, to keep things under control. As much as was humanly possible, anyway.
He knew he'd been right to take an early interest in Rubika Keslin. God alone knew how he'd known, but he was grateful he had. As long as she didn't kill him, as long as he could be a human voice of reason for entities that simply were...
Finally, he nodded. "Yes. I'll help."
Rubika reached out and deactivated the tree, and the projection room's ambient lighting flickered on. "Then let's get started."
She strode past him without touching him, and he slowly let go of the panic button. He followed Rubika out of the projection room, pausing only to lock the door. On the keypad, he entered a very specific code, one that was never written down--every Guardian was taught by word of mouth and committed to memory.
Even if he couldn't tell them himself, the next time someone accessed the tree, the Family would know. The Horsemen had awakened.
The Apocalypse had begun.
Year:
Word Count: 1295
Rating: R
Characters: Rubika, Guardian Sanchez
Warnings: Discussion of war
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. I am back, with Plotty things! This takes place shortly after the last Rubika piece. Rubika and Sanchez also refer to Simon as David here.
The moment he got in, Guardian Sanchez knew there was someone in the projection room. He hesitated half a second, but--the only people who could get in were Family members. Everything was equipped with state-of-the-art DNA scanners.
Of course, the Family was large, and there were at least a dozen very dangerous members living.
He collected his pistol and panic button from his desk drawer, made sure both were accessible, then made his way over to the door.
There was a young woman, standing on the main platform, with the tree activated. One of the messengers, a little girl he'd picked out for the job nearly two decades ago. Rubika Kesilen, from Lila's line; she'd grown up on Charon.
"Rubika?"
"Papi," she said quietly. "I need to talk to you."
"Of course," he said. "Anything." Rubika had never crossed any lines like this before. In all the years she'd been doing active work for him and the Family, she'd been an exemplary messenger.
And now she was suddenly dropping out of contact for two months and reappearing by breaking into the heart of the Family compound.
"What did David do? All you ever tell us is he committed a crime. And that shapes all of us, so I think we deserve to know. What did he do?"
"Why do you want to know?"
She turned, and her eyes were pale and empty. "I need to know why I am what I am, Papi. Why there are three others like me, too. Why my sisters and I are here."
So, it was happening. Something every Guardian had feared, especially since the Broken Branch had finally...well, broken. Everything centuries of research and work had unearthed, all the bits and pieces that he'd been able to tell them, when they found him in his periods of lucidity. All the bits and pieces they'd gotten when they, on rare occasions, glimpsed the angels.
He put the gun down on the table. It wouldn't do him any good--not against what Rubika had become. "Who are the others?" he asked.
"You answer my question first."
"We know less than you think," he finally said.
"What did David do?"
"He killed a man. Or, more accurately, allowed a man to be killed. We can continue this conversation in my office, it'll be more comfortable."
Rubika shook her head. "No. I want to be here." She turned away, studying the tree. "Everything the Family built, all those generations, all that...life. I want to be here." Her voice went soft, almost longing. Then she shook her head and, though she didn't turn back, her voice hardened again. "What do you mean, allowed a man to be killed?"
"He helped set up a situation that resulted in a death. He was...manipulated. From what we've been able to find out over the centuries, he was born specifically for that moment."
"Truth?" she asked.
"Truth," he said. "I don't lie, Rubika. I keep secrets, but I don't lie. Not to the Family."
She nodded, accepting that. "Why are we here? Me, and the others?"
"Because the circumstances are finally right, I suppose." He kept his voice a hell of a lot lighter than he felt. The last thing he wanted was to make her any more upset than she already was. "I told you, Rubika, we know less than you think."
"But you know what I am."
And wasn't that a loaded question. "Yes."
"And you know what that means."
He nodded. "Bring the others here. We can protect you, help you make the best decision. That's why we're here. That's why the Family has kept such close track of itself, because we knew...we knew everything would come from us."
"How did you know?"
These were secrets he wasn't yet ready to share. Not even with her. Not until he knew more of what she was planning. If she was even planning anything--Rubika never had been one to think ahead much farther than the next stop on her route, even before she'd become...this.
And, hell, maybe that made him just as bad as the angels, but wasn't that what the Guardian was for? Protecting the Family secrets, preparing for the end, making sure the Horsemen--and the Fruit of the Broken Branch, if they could ever get to her--made the right choices?
Still, it was a damned slippery slope, and a part of him hated himself for not trying harder to stop his descent.
"We research," he temporized. "We talk to David, when we can. We make educated guesses, based on what little we do know. Come home. Bring the others. We can work everything out."
Rubika turned away from him again, her empty eyes scanning the tree. "Where is Mariko?"
Hell. "I don't know."
She traced one of the red threads of light with her fingers, and it shivered, bending away from her. "I think you do, Papi."
"I wish I did."
"Tell me where to find her. Or even just where to start looking." She pulled her hand out of the projection. "Or tell me what would happen if I touched you."
His hand, automatically, went for his panic button, even though it would be about as helpful as the gun. "Probably nothing good. But we know less about the four of you than we'd like. We thought we still had centuries to figure everything out."
"Help me find Mariko, Papi," she said. "My sisters and I have work to do."
"Killing her won't stop it." Based on what he did know, if the Horsemen were active, there wasn't anything that would stop it. All he could do--all the Family could do--was try to minimize the damage.
Rubika shook her head. "That's not what we want."
"What do you want?"
She turned back to him and smiled, a ghostly smile, pale and hollow as her eyes. "When we figure it out, I'll let you know."
He hadn't been named Guardian and kept the Family together for over two decades by letting on when he was afraid. Still, in this moment, it took all the habit and training he had to remain calm. "I can't promise anything."
"But you'll help me?"
For a long moment, he hesitated--he wanted to give in, because it felt inevitable. She was inevitable. But he didn't want to cave just out of some sort of basic instinctual reaction to the Pale Rider.
On the other hand, if he did help her, if he stayed close to her and the other Horsemen, if he found Mariko, he would be in the middle of things. He would be better placed than anyone had ever dreamed, to keep things under control. As much as was humanly possible, anyway.
He knew he'd been right to take an early interest in Rubika Keslin. God alone knew how he'd known, but he was grateful he had. As long as she didn't kill him, as long as he could be a human voice of reason for entities that simply were...
Finally, he nodded. "Yes. I'll help."
Rubika reached out and deactivated the tree, and the projection room's ambient lighting flickered on. "Then let's get started."
She strode past him without touching him, and he slowly let go of the panic button. He followed Rubika out of the projection room, pausing only to lock the door. On the keypad, he entered a very specific code, one that was never written down--every Guardian was taught by word of mouth and committed to memory.
Even if he couldn't tell them himself, the next time someone accessed the tree, the Family would know. The Horsemen had awakened.
The Apocalypse had begun.
