DAY TWO *BZZZZZZZZZZT* The alarm goes off at your bedsite. Alerting you in the most annoying manner possible that your daily rhetoric of the mundane shall reconvene within the hour. Another loud note of normalcy confirming that perhaps what you had experienced was all a dream.. Utena jerks awake out of her bed, wide eyes and her pink hair swinging forward of her chin, bobbing against her cheeks. She presses her hand to her heart, looking over at the alarm with fright and contempt. It was all a dream, wasn't it? Of course. Of course that's what it was. She shakes her head, pushing back her covers.. looking for her school uniform. There's your uniform over there... neatly setup and ready for the day. Hrmm.. that's odd.. your bookbag with your binder is missing... Utena pulls on the clothing over her trim, almost waifish frame, and frowns. Where did she put it? She was sure she left it in the corner by the desk.. Nope. Not here... erk! It has all your notes and books.. Utena groans deeply. Exams were today, and that paper on economics.... Utena hunts around the desk, and the room, in a futile hope of finding it. Nothing. Nothing. And Nothing. Oh crap.. Utena brushes her hand over her face. Great. Just GREAT. Utena sighs and reaches into her closet to get her coat out, a short white leather jacket. She closes it up, grumbling and muttering under her breath irritably. How's she going to explain THIS one to that ruler-whapping psychotic...? Not much you can do really.. it simply isn't here. Otherwise.. prehaps you can borrow notes from your friends? Utena snatches up her keys from the desk and shoves them deep into her coat pocket. She's gonna -have- to. She puts her hand on the doorknob and sets off, a black cloud over her head. Strides out of her bedroom. The dorm hallway is currently occupied by a half dozen schoolgirls..already gossiping and meandering about in no particular hurry to make it EXACTLY on time. As a closed campus.. complete with iron gate.. you can only go anywhere on the weekends. And even then not very far. And as a Monday.. it's back to the grind. As such most girls you see drag their feet as slowly as they can. The campus itself.. as you leave the dorm wing.. is very old. Ancient. As it is a nigh-historical area of old London. Thoroughly modern on the outskirts.. but otherwise filled with dark artistic stylings and well trimmed decidious trees. It seems they've gone out of their way to make it look like some witches coven in some movie.. and considering the strictness of the headmistresses it's apt. Utena is in no great hurry herself. She feels alone right now, worried over the dream, her mind licks and gnaws at the memory of it, of her friends screaming... the woman that spoke afterward. She feels alone because she's not popular enough to have a lot of friends... the currents of people that move and flow around her move AROUND her.. not with her... to either side. She's the stick poking out of the stream, and her body language is subdued when she joins the masses trudging down the hallways. But, she'll see her friends again in class, right..? Oh they'll be there. It was just a dream afterall.. as you continue floating along in the river of gossip. Everyone wearing lighter colors of their spring uniforms. As you wander down the poorly lit hallways you arrive at your class room. Old wooden desks you swear are remnants from the dark ages.. the Instructor already scrawling away on the chalkboard the day's tasks. The girls very VERY quietly gossiping now as they filter in to the classroom. Utena takes her seat there at the back of the room, not saying anything to anyone, not having a reason to. No books, no nothing.. this is going to be really hard to explain. She glances from side to side. And for some reason those words have come back to her mind... 'Become the Prince again'. What the hell did THAT mean? As you sit down.. you notice two empty desks. Where your friends usually sit. That's odd.. are they late? Or... Utena flinches. Her eyes narrowing as she gazes to the empty spots... At that moment the instructor turns around. A dour monster they must have cobbled from Frankenstein's laboratory. She is once again in possession of that perpetual uppity sneer of her's as she drones, "Settle down now, you unruly girls." making you wonder if her nose could point ANY higher and still be dignified. As the class files into place and adheres to silence. As a private school discipline is of a much higher order. She then nods, "Now class. Today we will be studying the time between the World Wars, and pay particular attention to the alliances developing during the time. And after that, we shall begin the exam." as she turns back to the chalkboard to point out the written confirmation on the board, "Also," she adds, "My new assistant shall begin his tenure so I want you all to make a good impression." Hrmm, the old girl Lucy must have finally returned to college from her teacher's assistant job here.. but.. wait a sec 'HIM'? A male? In THIS school? Is the world ending? Utena has this.. feeling. She gazes up in surprise... and alarm. Almost expecting that she'll KNOW who's walking in the door before he does... it'll be HIM, won't it? Him, with the searing eyes, and the red, red hair... Your woman's intuition serves you well. As you look up.. you can see that very same tall figure. Striding into the room from the door. His hands planted in his jacket pockets. Wearing that white uniform attire.. his long crimson locks hanging about his shoulders, one offcolor forlock flitting just over one eye as he enters the room. The discipline required for the girls to not immediately start DROOLING is sheerly staggering.. as for now they all stare, exposing the whites of their eyes almost totally. A guy..and a GOOD looking guy at that.. tremendously so as he stands beside the teacher, "Yes, Miss Evans. I'm here." smiling to her. And teasingly not looking to the others in the room. Utena GASPS softly, her hands locking over the desk, breathing ... she's breathing?... in slow, heavy exhales. It's HIM. And they're not... here... She flinches, sinking back into her chair.. The young man writes his name on the board in large english letters, Flowing script. 'Touga' He turns to face the class as he smiles. Miss Evans introduces him, "This is Touga. He will be grading papers for me and running errands. Say hello class." His thin lips coil into a smile.. the class fights not to swoon as in unison they all speak in a breathy, stunned low voice, "Hello Touga.." He favors them each in turn with a look.. slender eyes smiling to each of them... and like a wave they begin to gasp or fidget.. otherwise writhing beneath his gaze. Yet pointedly missing your eyes entirely... Utena . o O ( Touga. Touga. ) The name echoes through her head, again and again, and again... she knows it.. how? Knew it.. how? She frowns, and can't stop looking at him... memories. That night, last night.. that was real.. REAL... she pales then, realizing it. REAL. They won't be coming back... those men.... Touga speaks up, "Hello class. It will be a pleasure working with you all." his tone sincere..but that smile the teacher can't see expresses differently. All the girls in the front row blush in unison. Then ..and only then.. does he allow his eyes to grace your own. Locking on firmly.. knowingly and his smile broadens yet more. Utena is caught, paralyzed, she can't look from those eyes... biting her lip, and leting out a soft, almost inaudible sound. It's all she can do to refrain from pushing out of her desk and RUNNING for the classroom door... to be in a room with HIM...? Touga merely continues looking deep into your eyes. Until the anti-melodic tone of Miss Evans breaks the spell, "Now class. We will have a study break for fifteen minutes. And then we shall begin the exam." as she turns and begins to sort through her notes. She speaks to Touga, "If you will begin grading last week's quizzes, Touga?" nodding her head to the far corner. He nods and smiles to her, "Yes Miss Evans." in an even tone. Soothing to the ear, as if healing the damage that old hag can do with her broken tone. He strides functionally to the desk in the corner..seating himself for a moment as he begins sorting papers.. and the girls around you immediately begin burying their noses in their books. Utena fumbles helplessly. Her books are gone. She ponders feigning illness just to get out of the class... desperate, she looks around left and right to find an out somehow.... her hands are empty, and she brought no bag. -sigh-. Now she knows WHY she doesn't have it. She stares at Touga again, miserably. And she's afraid, too... he saved her once, but WHY? WHY did he do it...? Who IS he? Touga suddenly looks up again to you. He suddenly wears a cheshire slick smile.. as he reaches beneath his desk..then shock of shocks.. Your bookbag! He holds it in one hand before him.. baiting you to stand up infront of the whole class..WALK over to him..and take it back.. that is.. if you want to pass your exam. Utena's eyes shoot open. Huge as saucers. She bites her lip and stares at the red-haired man.. helpless. If she gets up, she gets in trouble.. if she doesn't get up, she fails the exam.. Groan. She slides out of her seat... having to get up in front of everyone, something she would NEVER do.. dreads doing. She just wants to be left alone, and she's scared when she starts moving up the aisle toward him, her face red and full of blood. As you do.. everyone blinks and looks up. Luckly the instructor doesn't notice yet.. However as you approach him.. ALREADY you can practically hear the gossip beginning to rifle back and forth. What is -HE- doing with your bookbag? Jealousy and curiousity begin to mix together in ugly amounts.. amazing how much slander can begin to occur by just standing up. Then again, in boring boarding schools, the smallest thing is at least some measure of entertainment... even if it is at one's expense. However he seems to be utterly immune to it..as he gives your bookbag a little jostle.. like a human trainer offering tablescraps to his pet.. Utena silently plods forward and SNATCHES away the bag... her face full of fire.. like it's ON fire... she can hear with painful clarity everything, every whisper, every giggle... She didn't want this. And she has to swallow the pain as she clings to the bag and marches back to her desk, sits down under that black cloud that's growing in size over her head... Touga merely smiles, possessing something of a refreshed look as he simply looks down and begins grading papers with an elegant hand.. thinking nothing of it. However..at least now you get to pass the test.. that's the important thing right? Utena fidgets and reaches into her bag to get her books out. Grumble. She keeps her head down, trying to ignore everything around her. Just get the book, study... Everything is there and accounted for. And so begins the loooong class. If you look during this three hour period.. Touga never once looks back up to you as he diligently does his work with a satisfied smile on his face. Long crimson hair swaying to and fro as he looks back and forth from test paper to master sheet.. Usually the class can finish such a test within an hour.. however.. for some reason.. everyone needs two.. as most spend half that time sneaking glances over at the redhaired bishounen in the corner.. Utena doesn't. She tries to ignore that he exists. Consequently, it means that she breezes through the test and has... an hour. To sit here, doing nothing.. staring into space.. checking her answers again and again.. she'll either get the best score EVER or the worst score because she's distracted. Looking anywhere but to him.... staring at the grain of the wood in her desk is preferable. As such.. the class period truly DRAGS and DRAGS on for you... almost infinitely. Everytime you look up.. you swear the clock goes backwards by a minute or two. Giving you far FAR too much time to think... to force your mind to work over the information you have.. and to contemplate his presence.. Utena wallows in paranoid thoughts. With her test finished, she rummages through her bag quietly. As if expecting to find something in it, something hideous or secret or something... she does that at least twice. Time stretching and compressing miserably... They're not coming back. ("Silence them.") The running, the sensation of running through the cold mist.. real, real, real, all of it real.. she wants OUT.. OUT.. ready to claw out eyeballs, tear over people on her way to the door.. she twitches and fidgets and squirms... why is HE here? Why? Coincidence? Heh, you wish. He must have some dark purpose.. yet.. he DID lead those men away from you.. if you recall correctly from your dream.. Which wasn't a dream. Utena squirms some more. Isn't this DONE yet? Isn't it OVER yet? She just wants to go to her next class, and be left ALONE, and not think about her poor friends.. But if they're dead, how come no one seemed to notice... to say anything, even to ask? A very strange phenomena.. dare you try to find answers? Not until the class is over. Which is... now. Finally Miss Evans looks up from her book.. glancing to the clock. She speaks up, "Turn your tests face down and pass them to the front please." To which your classmates eagerly agree and practically throw them forward to get the evil examinations away from themselves as fast as possible.. Utena joins in that, for a different reason. Get the thing off her desk, get OUT of here... You pass the test forward.. and once they are collected. You still think Miss Evans is going PAINFULLY slow just to torment you all.. as you want nothing more than to exit as fast as you can.. she intones, "You are dismissed." As lunch break officially begins. Utena exhales, thank GOD, thank GOD, thank GOD... she pushes her things swiftly into her bag and stands to get OUT. OUT. And the moment you stand your met by a TIDE of girls as they all begin to parade for Touga. Whom likewise stands up slowly. Looking out to the approaching girls as he smiles to them all in turn as they crowd around him.. all timidly trying to speak up and ask all manners of questions.. anything that comes to mind really... just to hear his voice speaking to them.. as he answers each in turn with that same deliberate smile.. but as you exit.. he favors you with a deeper.. knowing smile.. but surrounded as he is.. he can't make chase.. Utena hurries out. Hurries, feeling even more alone, more isolated than ever. Drifts out and away, maybe the only one in the class to actively flee the room as fast as possible. Indeed the only one.. and your prompt departure isn't unnoticed..as already the girls begin gossping to one another as you rush out as fast as you are.. As you enter the hallway.. you realize this is something that is going to haunt you for a VERY long time in social circles.. But beyond that.. what did you stumble upon? Are your friends ACTUALLY... 'silenced'?.... Utena doesn't know... she's... it's too big, and too vast to even deal with... Utena just sits on the lawn, her head spinning, and tries to make sense out of the senseless, her bookbag across her knees as she leans back on her hands, and closes her eyes, tilting her neck back. -sigh-... "Ahh.. Utena isn't it?" A voice.. his voice.. Utena opens her eyes. Tilting her head to the side. -.- Touga is naturally standing beside you. Somehow managed to have escaped his prison of blushing girls. Hands in his pockets as he smiles down to you.. towering over your sitting form elegantly. He looks past you..as if just enjoying the view of the lawn, "I saw the name on your bookbag." he states in a somewhat jovial tone. Utena turns her head away. "How nice. Did you learn their names too...? They had names." Touga inhales deeply, "Lovely scent. Roses?" both switches subjects and moving onto the first thing that interests him.. namely you.. Utena stands up quickly, angry, and blushing. "Roses." She whirls and puts her back to you, but doesn't move. She whispers softly, "Why." Touga takes a few steps closer to your back. Boldly. He intones to you closely, "For some reason... when I'm near you .. all I can sense.. is the scent of roses.. an intoxicating fragrance... don't you think?" still avoiding the main topic at hand.. yet his words.. deep and smooth.. Utena pushes her words through tight lips, turning her head to the side, presenting you with a vaguely visible profile, mostly hidden by the long flow of her pink hair. "Stop it. You killed them. Your friends did." Utena says, "I don't know why, but I'll find out why." Touga chuckles at that, "Killed? Why.. you silly girl." dismissing your tone bemusedly, "They simply decided to move away.. merely an interesting coincidence. You will learn to think of it that way.. in time. Besides.. you should be grateful.." he continues. Utena flinches quietly, shrinking into herself. "They were killed." she insists softly. "I saw your friends do it. I don't know why you saved me." Touga smiles soothingly.. as he gently.. ever so gently.. brushes his fingertips along your shoulder like a feather, "Now now.. Utena.." the way he says your name.. so familiar.. "I could have simply allowed you to be 'moved' as well.. but you caught my eye.. and using some connections of mine.. I decided to keep you under..careful observation." he states, whispering yet closer, "If I like what I see.. you get to live your life to the fullest..and free of hindrance.. if I don't like what I see.." slowly his fingers brush along a lock of your pastel hair.. "Then I'm afraid.. you will be joining your friends." Utena stiffens... when you touch her, it's like fire, but she doesn't know WHY... her outrage at the implication overwhelming the spell even YOU can cast over her, she just becomes hard as stone, her eyes quivering. "What are you saying.." she questions lowly, though she knows the answer. "What do you WANT from me?" Touga doesn't seem to mind the effect his touch has on you.. as he boldly continues to stroke your long locks with his first two fingers very, very lightly. Speaking again, ".. I want you of course.." letting that thought course within your mind for a bit, "Just to watch you.. to be near you.. that is all I ask.. not such a hard request to fulfill.. is it?" Utena is knocked breathless and silent by THAT one... she can't move. No answers... just more questions.. more blood running through her head and coopting her brain and his hands are all over her, she has to say or do something or... Her hand lashes up, and she pushes your fingers away. "Stop it..!" Touga immediately complies. Allowing you to push his hand away as he intones, "Well?" still in that light yet deep tone. Utena asks, "Well, WHAT?" Utena whirls around. "You're... you're STALKING me. And I... I..." She was going to say something, honest.. but she made the mistake of looking in his eyes again... such a weird, unusual color... blue and purple... resonant, warm eyes.. she shakes her head swiftly, blushing again, even harder now. Touga chuckles in a way that simply diffuses the tension and the darkness of the moment, "Now now Utena. Hardly stalking." letting his captivating eyes destroy your train of thought as well.. he daringly reaches up.. cupping the tip of your chin within his curled index finger.. lifting your eyes to meet his once more as he doesn't let you escape.. intoning, "Utena.. you poor silly girl.. you don't even know how good I am to you. I am your Prince after all. I did save you before." Utena stammers softly, meekly, "... prince...? Th.. there's no such thing.." Drawn into the web... against her will? Yes, but ... no... it's... familiar.. her eyes narrow... and she says it again, "Who are you...?" Touga whispers again, "Touga. Kiryuu Touga." as he leans yet closer.. speaking yet softer, "And you.. are my Ten'jou Utena.." Utena can't resist, she's being drawn in, pulled forward by the spider's gentle touch, her eyes wide and crying out, shivering, but her lips silent. In truth.. she's overwhelmed.. she's been the one no one ever noticed... who just did as she was told... quiet and unobserved in everything... and so she doesn't know how to really defend herself against this... against a beautiful man who is bringing her.. closer and closer... her hands twitch, but hang at her sides. Touga slowly raises his hand again.. brushing the back of his curled fingers along your smooth soft cheek, whispering softly, "Is it.. a deal then?" his eyes boring into your closely..very closely.. pinning you in place.. Utena squirms, a pinned butterfly with her face radiating heat and bewilderment.. the small lips part. She tries so hard to jerk herself away from those eyes so she can THINK again... Touga's fingertips ever so lightly trace along your cheek..then slide over your small lips.. so gently they might not be touching.. all you can feel is a tingling sensation... as he intones, "Well?" softly, "Say yes? Hmmmm?" Utena stammers... red as the sun, red as your hair, squirming, your fingers over her lips almost not-touching imparting a cruel burst of electricity and NEED in the young girl's body... making her very much want to give in and surrender, to say yes to it, so she can feel that again... but somehow she manages... words intervene.. the memories.. the cold, distant smile... not as a toy, no. Not as a toy.... She jerks her body backward, three steps so that you can't easily reach her... shaking her head no, no. Touga watches your struggle.. reveling in every moment of it.. like prey wriggling within his web. But then notices you take a few steps back.. his smile dampens ever so slightly.. as he intones, "Please, Utena? I'm trying to protect you... believe it or not.. I am the only friend you have in the world now." he states softly. Taking a single step forward..but slowly so as to not invoke fear in you.. Utena fairly screams out, "WHY?" Or she would... but instinctively she keeps her voice low, her eyes glancing from side to side to others in the courtyard... "From what.." her eyes narrow.. "From who? You aren't answering me.." She avoids your eyes... looks at your chest or your arm or anything but your FACE, and those lambent jewel eyes that bewitch her. Touga speaks to you calmly, his hands stretching outwards to his sides in a universal symbol of being harmless and seeking peace, "It would be best if you didn't know." he says sympathetically, "Some secrets are best kept... but suffice it to say.. you overheard something.. we simply can't afford to let out. And I'm simply here.. to make sure you don't remember..or tell anyone about what happened." smiling, "If you simply let me.. and say yes.. then this will all seem like a bad dream..and it will all go away and you can live on with your life." Utena draws FURTHER back as you say those words. She shakes her head MORE. "No... no!" Now she knows, she hears the real intent under those words.. to shut her up, to.. silence her. She whirls on her heel and starts to RUN. Blind running, but with power, and speed, and desperation... the same kind of adrenaline soaked power that propelled her through the alleyways... now moves her over the ground briskly.. she has to get OUT, get away... no matter what.. Touga simply sighs. Replacing his hands in his pockets as he watches you rush off. Not chasing.. knowing full well that running will get you precisely nowhere. As you run madly... but..where? Utena wants OUT of here. She heads straight for the gates... which, granted, some part of her knows will be locked. She doesn't care. She'll CLIMB OVER THEM if she has to... she can't come here again... can't be kept here... she has to get AWAY, that's what her instinct screams out... and though she's never heeded it before.. there was never a need before. Now she listens to the screaming in her body, not questioning. She wants to get away from here, hide, disappear.. You reach the iron gates.. which may be ancient in design..but quite formitable and built with the intention of keeping beings both outside.. and inside. Not allowing passage between the two. As the gates offer no hand or footholds..and the rows of spikes look potentially dangerous... Utena looks at the gates tightly. Can she maybe squeeze through them, between the bars? She's small, and thin, and tiny. And the wild, desperate part of her is willing to jump up and grab the spikes and use the rubber in her sneakers to grip and climb... almost insane thoughts, but she heeds them, not knowing the depth from where they come... her heart bursting within her chest... god... someone help, someone DO something... have mercy. You squeeze against them.. OOF! You compress your ribs a bit..bones and sinew grinding together as your forcing yourself through the bars.. you manage to stuff your torso through them.. if you were so much as ten pounds heavier you wouldn't make it... Utena whimpers. It HURTS. Hurts in a way she's never hurt before. But she struggles through it, wriggling sideways between the bars, hurting to breathe and draw breath... clawing at the other side with her hands to pull herself through... halfway, halfway... another few seconds. It's all she needs.. sucking in her breath to make it the rest of the way.. the legs are easier.... suddenly, though it hurts.. though things feel distorted in her.. she's out. And amazed... looking at the gates from the other side... letting out her breath in a painful gasp. For a moment, she doesn't know what to do.. but then remembers. Run. Run away fast, far, HARD... NOW. The old streets of london stretch before you.. like multiple entrances to the same labyrinth.. choose your fate. No mists this time.. yet the old streets of london are no less harrowing. The cobbled streets cast long shadows..and in some parts of the tight streets sunlight never falls. Such places you rush through.. stumbling and racing as fast as you can.. pushed on by the startling realization that they know your name..and they want your silence... they know who you are... and they can't be far.. Yes, and the bewilderment. The woman said she'd see the real world... miracle powers, the prince? To become the prince again. How? How can she, if she DIES? The vast, -different- part of Utena is thoroughly in control; leading her, moving her feet and propelling her over fences and weaving in and out and around corners.. she feels like she's been put to the side, made to sit quietly while this other thing controls her. But.. where can you go? They know your name... they probably know where you live.. the police? Maybe they can help you.. The woman's voice.. what she said.. to be a Prince.. these things aren't easy to think of when pure adrenaline controls your system..and your animal need to take flight is firmly in control. Utena's sheer INSTINCT is to ... go underground, to hide. She tries to rein herself in and stop, stop just for a moment to think... to look around as she's become lost in the tangled streets. Get her breath, get her bearing, be in control.. You finally stop in some secluded street..hrmm.. a short distance away you see an abandoned historical seminary or church of some type.. only adding to the gothic ambiance of this ancient place.. antithesis of the thoroughly modern and cyberpsychotic state the world has become possessed by.. nobody is here it seems.. the shadows from the stone gargoyles along the rooftops cast eeriely upon the ground around you.. Utena drifts toward the church, something about it calling to her, some quality of the ground or the sky or the way the wind is blowing... something deep inside her knows sacred places. And churches are sanctuaries, places of refuge... she moves forward toward it. It stands tall..looming over you.. upon the facade of this gothic place.. an angel.. her features eroded from the passage of time.. her arms wide in welcome as shafts of light filter down around you from her spread wings and stone-frozen robe.. the front gates lie open.. as the dark subdued greys humbly welcome the light.. yet do not ignore the darkness clinging to it as well. Utena drifts through the gate, her head bowed as the wind rises and blurs the world, casts her pink hair across her eyes. A perfect silence and equilibrium here she feels in her soul, in her body if not in her conscious mind, she feels easier, and couldn't say why. Like so much of what's happened to her the last couple of days.. strange feelings from deep in the ocean of herself. She passes through the shadows that wash over her, through the shafts of light that glitter on her shoulders, and into the church. You walk into the church.. the floorboards creaking beneath your feet.. This place really IS ancient.. making you wonder more and more about why it was abandoned.. as you look down the rows of pews.. covered in dust.. the pillars holding up the wings of this church decorated in weaving art like vines.. the old smokey windows letting in shafts of light from the outside to filter into the vast corridor.. and on the far side.. you see an altar..above which a picture of a man crucified upon a cross... the statue cracked and faded.. the crown of thorns upon His brow oddly well kept compared to the rest.. and beyond that.. a beautiful colored glass mosaic.. the image of a sword stabbing into a serpent with a bed of roses surrounding... light from this glittering down in a splash of color contrasting the simple grey elegance of the remainder of this holy place.. Utena looks at the statue for a long time.. the redeemer, who died... but the mosaic truly captures her eyes.. the play of color, the image of the sword stabbing into the dragon.. the scent of roses. She drifts forward, her hand reaching out toward the glass, numbly, foolishly, like a child, as if touching it could confirm its reality. Quiet and awed in her manner. Sadly the glass is far above.. up towards the apex of the gothic wall.. far out of reach. Yet you stand in the middle of the image on the floor.. as if standing upon a vast sword amongst a bed of crimson roses.. standing before the body of the slain Dragon.. you might not have had any idea that such places as this existed.. as so much of the world has turned from the old ways and beliefs.. perhaps going through the motions of the rituals but not believing in them anymore..even with the return of the mystic. Utena closes her eyes. Whatever this place is, it's meaning.. it eludes her on the conscious level. But inside, her soul, in her deep places... something is laughing, and crying... she feels the tears bubble out of her eyes, but she does NOT KNOW WHY... she just falls to her knees in the middle of the image, the colors playing on the floor, her eyes turning to the figure on the cross of the redeemer.. she cries blindly, bewildered, from deep inside herself.. Your tears roll down and fall to the floor.. the dust from your transit filtering through the shafts of light like a fine mist.. adding definition to the shafts of light coming from the smokey windows.. like rays of light descending from heaven itself as it plays about the amphitheatre of the soul.. such deep meaning.. lost... locked away within the twisted antiquated streets of the old city.. as the beautiful colored light continues to play upon your features.. illuminating your form and your mind.. somehow permitting all these pent up emotions to well up and out..find release..and comfort.. Utena pounds her hands on the floor, over the red splinted rose-images, breathing in the dust and the light and the shadows... pounds her fists once, twice. "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? WHAT DO YOU *WANT* FROM ME?" The last, a sheer scream to God, to the world, to the universe at large... the primal roar of a lost soul. Your physical violence only stirs the dust more... obscuring the world around you for a brief moment.. but as the dust begins to settle.. you hear a voice, "Who's there?.." a man's voice.. sounding curious.. yet not unfriendly.. Utena looks up, the young girl kneeling in the dust, long pink hair curled over her shoulders, her eyes red rimmed from tears, a gasp. She quickly draws back, controls herself, gets herself back under control in God's eyes... ".. I... I'm sorry.. I thought.." A figure is standing there at the foot of the Cross on the wall.. at the altar. It wears flowing robes.. old, torn, and ragged.. the hood drawn low.. it appears to be a monk of some sort or another.. as the male voice intones lightly, "Are you well my child?" his features completely obscured within the robe.. Utena unfolds from the floor, dust over her legs, over the skirt of her school uniform, the shadow of the sword from the stained glass window falling directly over her, lighting the dust in silver... silver and shadows, the mark of the sword. Her lambent blue eyes fix on the monk, she shakes her head. "... I... I don't know.." she admits finally, unable to lie in the house of God. The probable caretaker of this place nods beneath the hood, "Come my child.. sit.." gesturing to a seat by the altar, "You seem tired." as the figure almost seems to float beneath his robes..so fluid and graceful his motion..as he approaches an opposite chair.. Utena sighs and obeys the voice, drifting across the floor, walking away from the sword's shadow, away from the eyes of the redeemer, settling on the pew with a vain attempt to straighten her skirt and brush the dust from her.. but it won't go away, it clings to her skin, she's a little dirty now. The figure seats himself at an opposite chair. Folding his hands on his lap.. which you can't see as his sleeves meet together. A rather odd figure... he speaks up once again, "What troubles you my child? What would bring you here to my humble keep?" in a soft and kindly voice. Gentle. Utena hangs her head. "I... I'm .." She bites her lip. "It's too crazy to even talk about." The figure speaks up, "My child.. we all face a future that was previously unknown to us. Please, I would not judge you by your words alone... pray speak of your worries.. Utena is reluctant, but the kind words draw her out, and she sighs.. "... a.. all right. I... uhm.. I was walking to my school the other day.. with two friends. It was misty out, and cold. We saw some men, they came out of the mist. They were talking about 'dominion'.. about some king.... then they saw us, and they ... attacked us. I got away, but my two friends... I guess they were killed. I heard them screaming. One of the men.. was familiar to me, which doesn't make any SENSE because I hadn't met him... anyway, I fainted, I guess, and had some dream about a woman telling me I had to... to 'become a Prince again', whatever that means... and then, the next day, one of the men who attacked us showed up in my school... so I ran.." The figure makes a 'hmmm' sound.. listening to your words.. weighing them... not judging or commenting..simply listening.. Utena traces over herself, she repeats the same thing more or less a couple more times. Until she's drained it out, and looks up toward the cross helplessly. "I don't understand anything. The woman in my dream said I'd see the real world. Is this it?" The figure speaks up cryptically, "The real world.. is something men have quested for .. well.. since the beginning. As it was written.. we were cast out from Eden..Paradise.. the Truth.. long ago. Instead mankind began to accept their own wisdom.. as the way the universe is. But since the Revolution.. since Anshi returned the Truth to the world.. none of us truly understands it.." he speaks. Utena looks up suddenly, sharply, her hand leaving her forehead. "... Anshi?" She narrows her beautiful eyes. Suddenly she wants to see under that hood.. The male voice intones, as the hood nods, "Yes. Anshi.. the promised one whom turned the tide against the darkness. The Adversary. She whom averted Armageddon. Since that day.. there are those in the world.. whom struggle to control the Truth.. the power of Miracles. Those whom have taken her gift.. and begun to twist it towards their own desires and needs." Utena's eyes quiver, wide, wide. "...." She feels INSTINCTIVE horror and fear of that thought, almost unrationing. "... the... adversary...? who averted Armageddon...?" She looks back toward the window, the sword and the roses... The figure chuckles a bit, "Calm child. You need not fear here. Not in my care." he intones quietly. Soothingly. Utena moves forward, she.. her hand lifts, and she tries to push back the hood of the figure. Instinct. Everything in her right now is instinct and the reactions of that inner self.. The figure's face is then revealed to you..as you brush back that hood.. his face.. Her face? No..his.. masculine.. yet so soft it's almost feminine.. his hair.. blonde.. long and flowing... his features as pale and as white as snow.. his eyes.. depthless blue.. He looks perfect..absolutely perfect... as he looks unerringly to you. Like a portrait of an Angel.. Utena gasps softly, her hand withdrawing.. ".. I... I'm sorry.. I just..." she stammers. The figure laughs. A light, beautiful sound as he raises a hand to stay your fears, "Rest easy child.. it is alright." his hand.. slender and smooth. What would a beautiful young man such as he be doing working in a hole like this? Those grey, torn robes don't seem to fit the image of magesty he appears in.. yet.. somehow..add humility and a dusted nobility that is hard to mute. He continues, "But.. it seems, child.. that you have stumbled upon a coven of such people whom would turn and taint the Truth.." Utena nods slowly. The pieces fit.. it's reasonable. But then.. why the dream about the voice...? "... I can't... they want to kill me. They wanted me to forget, just play along and pretend I hadn't seen anything. But I don't.. I don't want to do that. I don't want to forget." The figure then states, "If you do not wish to forget.. that is noble of you.. but your only alternative is a dark and troubled path.. fraught with danger.. but know you, my sweet child, that those whom you have stumbled upon.. will not let you rest until their dark designs are satisfied or.. have been broken.." Utena smiles weakly, wanly. "It's too late to go back. I won't let them do this to me. I can't stay at the school, I can't go home. They know who I am. And I don't want to die, either." She turns her head to the side, giving you her profile. "So.. what other choice do I have?" The figure answers plainly, yet not reproachfully, but respectfully, "There is always choice.. no matter what. But if you are to fight for your right of peace.. then you must arm yourself with strength of knowledge, and of sword." He smiles, "And that of Miracle.. of Truth." Utena says, "A.. arm myself..? I don't understand." but she DOES. Some part of her does. The instinctive part of her is nodding its head, agreeing, almost jumping up. Give me a sword, it says. Give me the chance. I'll stop this... The figure speaks, "You will understand. You will understand soon enough." he changes subject, "But for now.. you must be tired. Come.. rest here. I have quarters for you here. It would be too dangerous for you to return to your own home I fear. Utena says, "I..." He is right. There isn't a way for her to go home. No one would mess with a house of God, would they? She'll take shelter here. She stands, and moves closer to the beautiful figure, the angel... The figure likewise stands gracefully. He is a good amount taller than you..as he smiles down to you, "Tomorrow.. I will tell and teach you what I can.. may it be some use to you in your struggles against these wicked foes." He finally introduces himself, "My name is Michael." as he too now stands within the image of the sword smiting the Dragon. Utena says, "M... Michael..." Utena turns pale, pale white... it's too much. Michael. The Sword against the Dragon. Her knees tremble as she stumbles close to you, her body almost giving out under her. Michael gestures a hand to you.. questioning what your name might be.. as he smiles a perfect, angelic smile.. long flaxen hair flowing down his shoulders in waves. Oddly he wears a scar along one cheek. Yet it is not ugly or jagged..but clean..and adding to the definition of his face.. like a symbol of pride.. as you stumble he touches your shoulders lightly to help you with your balance. His hands warm to the touch, "Easy now my child." still smiling. Utena looks up slowly, breathless... "... It's... it's Utena..." She boggles weakly, wondering in a dim, confused manner if this Michael has wings too... Michael's robe certainly is large and concealing.. but.. you never know.. as he intones in his light voice, "Please..allow me to show you to your room.. you seem weary.." still lightly touching your shoulders to help you stand steadily.. Utena nods, and surrenders herself to you, her eyes showing her weariness now, as if your touch brings it out of her, makes her feel it the more, her mundane weariness. Even the her inside, the anxious and defiant one, becomes quiet, respectful. She'll follow wherever you lead her, needing to be led. Michael will be there for you if you need help to walk as he doesn't stray far from you. His robed form gracefully walking.. still seeming to float his step is so light and sure.. leading behind the altar.. to a small stairway that leads to the lower catacombs of this old style church.. Utena can walk after a fashion, she manages to go to wherever you're leading her with your aid. Her hand clings to yours, though, as she moves down the stairs and into that lower level, below the ground to sleep...