ꜱ1ᴇ2　　rooftop gardens

@✠　Jeom Daesung ↳ ᴍᴀʏ 31, 2051
↳ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: empty crown - yas

If Eden had a way to gauge how much time he has here on the roof, he would use it in a heartbeat. But instead, he has to estimate, going off of how well he knows his adversary and their previous encounters—the past several days have been particularly educational, as far as relearning his enemy goes—and that means he's going to be pressed for time to tell Daesung the things the Guard need to know.

But he can start with the floodgates, as he had told them before.

"The floodgates in the south were destroyed. I can only presume that the northern floodgates are going to be targeted next. I checked to see if this could be damage from the attacks in April—but there's no way. They were destroyed recently, and the ones in the north were intact when I got around to checking." Eden also has gathered, from the hunter who's been chasing him around, that he's invested in flooding the city. "If no progress has been made on fixing the southern floodgates, then those are my marching orders. Fix the floodgates, check on the northern set and see if they've also been destroyed."

The floodgates is one order of business that needs to be taken care of as soon as possible.

"From what I've gathered, the plan is to flood the city. I know the hows, but I don't know the whys," Eden continues, but he pauses there, to gather his thoughts and determine how he can explain without truly explaining very much and have it actually make sense. It would be rather counterproductive if all he did was confuse Daesung. The point of their meeting was so Eden could clarify the things he'd been trying to tell the Dream Guard and, of course, to give his new instructions to the Guard through Daesung.

"I know there's a storm coming. It's going to start out a natural storm, but they're going to affect it—they plan to twist the storm, to make it larger and more devastating. If it breaks land, with the floodgates compromised and so much destruction already present from April, the storm by itself would be catastrophic. But with weather-wielders and water-wielders involved..."

Eden knows he doesn't have to spell the picture out in any more detail than that. Massive storms are already a big enough problem on their island before magic is involved, and afterward...

It spells disaster, and it's Eden's job to put an end to disaster, especially in cases where someone is planning another assault on their city. It's been a particularly bad year, and Eden knows things for the Dream Guard won't be getting better from here. They're only going to get harder, as more and more happens.

Eden's premonitions of disaster are never wrong.

All the Dream Guard hopes is that he can conclude his business with this hunter before the storm approaches land—regardless of whether he makes it out alive or dead. And Eden isn't holding his breath on surviving. This isn't the first time he's encountered this hunter, and he no longer has the element of surprise.

That, however, isn't important. There was something else he'd been meaning to tell the Dream Guard... ah yes.

Preparations in the event of his death.

"Aside from the approaching storm and the plan to flood the island," Eden begins, "there's another rather pressing matter I called you here for."

It's not an easy topic for Eden to bring up. He imagines it wouldn't be easy for any leader, to prepare their troops for the inevitable scenario in which they die. But for Eden, it's a particularly difficult thing—death is something he never talks about, at least in terms where it would apply to himself.

Hence why this conversation has to be had.

There was something his mother had told him once, when he was a small boy; something that the humans of his native land used to say to one another, something that mothers would say to their sons. "Come back with your shield, or on it," they'd say. Come back victorious, or come back to be buried.

It's that saying that he thinks of, standing there on the roof with Daesung.

"Η ταν ή επί τας," he utters, his voice soft, and rests the of his spear—he'd forgotten it was in his hand—on the ground beside him. "I have to be honest with you, Daesung. I may not come home with my shield this time."

With this, or on this.

"In the event I don't survive this," Eden continues, "there are arrangements I have made for the benefit—and continuation—of the Dream Guard. There is a key..." the captain pauses for a moment, to remember where he had squirreled away that key. "The key is inside my quarters, on the bookshelf in my bedroom. No one will have a problem getting to it unless my snakes detect foul intentions. That key opens a drawer—no, it opens the locked drawer in my desk." There's only one locked drawer in that desk. Eden imagines the Guard shouldn't have too hard a time finding it. "In the event of my death, that drawer is to be opened. Klahan, Demitri, and Reina should all be present for this."

They are, after all, his top three lieutenants. Klahan and Demitri are his seconds, and will be his successors when he is gone. Not when—if. Eden can't look at this as though he is absolutely not going to survive.

He's faced this adversary before and emerged victorious. They're on more level playing field now, but Eden still has a chance—it's just not likely that he's going to live this time.

The captain clears his throat. He doesn't want to admit just how unlikely it is, especially to one of his soldiers. They've looked to him for guidance since he built the Guard from the ground up, and Eden must maintain the façade of an invincible leader—that's what they've followed him as. That's why the idea of his death has been so foreign to them. None of them know the truth—Eden's mother dipped him in the Styx when he was an infant, to create the anti-hero that she knew he would grow into. She had always known he was destined for greatness. But Eden has had his taste of greatness and now he's been living under a false name, hiding who he truly is to try and escape the past that is catching up now.

He hates it when people come back from the dead. It's really quite a nuisance.

But if he does go down, Eden will go down fighting with every ounce of strength that he possesses, every weapon that he can muster, tooth and claw and spear and sword and bow. He will do his best to drag the adversary along with him, to whatever pit of Tartarus he lands in.

Eden checks the time. It's a precious resource, one that he's running out of. It won't be long, he knows, before the hunter finds him. He's smart enough to know the man's already back on his trail, but Eden wants to conclude his business here before he's forced to run off again and disappear to leave the Dream Guard to worry and fret over their captain. The unfortunate thing is that he can't say exactly how much longer he has here.

"Ah, right, the drawer," Eden remembers. "There's information in the drawer—how I want the babies, er, my snakes taken care of, Klahan and Demitri's instructions, and... my confession is in the drawer as well."

The confession of Eden.

The confession of ——————.

It isn't a can of worms that Eden wants to open while he is alive. He closed and sealed the can for a reason, but once he is gone—if he is gone—the Guard deserve to know the truth about the man who created their order.

"There's also a bag tagged for Ziminiar in that drawer," he adds as an afterthought, "if I die, make sure he gets it. He'll want to have it back."

Eden isn't planning on dying, but he has made plans and arrangements ahead of time in case it happens. He had never predicted that the hunter who had killed his mother would get a new lease on life after Eden had killed him the first time—and the second time, but perhaps he should have been expecting the unexpected.

He had known another hero would find him. This just happens to be the third time Eden has encountered this one and he wants to think the third time will be the charm, but there's no way for him to know for sure.

Exhaling, Eden looks up at Daesung, arching a brow. "If you have any questions, now is a good time for you to ask them. I'll answer to the best of my ability—but I'm rather pressed for time." He has a hunter to kill for the third time around, or a death to die while trying. "But there is one more thing, as well."

He reaches into the collar of his baggy shirt, and pulls out a bag. There's the soft clink of glass, the vials inside knocking gently against each other. "There's more of this stocked in my quarters, but... this is my blood. Dip your weapons in it, and a scratch will kill. Your enemies won't stand a chance. Even if—even if I do come home with my shield, I had been meaning to distribute this. Make sure everyone gets some—and don't let Klahan drink it, because he'll probably try."

As much as Eden pretends otherwise, he's not preparing to come home alive.

@✠　Eden “Fifteen minutes.”

Now that Daesung was at the ball— the orchestra loudly blaring their umpteenth composition of the night and the sound of laughter and cheer irritatingly mixing with it— he never really knew what part of the clock the supposed fifteen minutes starts from.

He didn’t bother asking for specifics after their captain’s first attempt at sending instructions considering the voice messages were already terribly butchered by whatever circumstance is causing it to sound that way. Looking back at it though? He should have at least tried if ever the small chance of a response for clarification could be given. Regret snakes its way into his chest after this realization dawns him, his face remaining ever so stoic aside from the further furrowing of his brows and the sharp inhale through his nostrils. He’s left completely dumbfounded and clueless as to when the timer begins; when he’s supposed to leave the ballroom in search of Eden at the rooftop.

Instead of immediately heading up to the rendezvous point once he arrived, Daesung was standing at his designated corner with Thorn sitting by his feet playing some pointless human game where the various sweets were to be matched to claim victory. If he thought too hard on the mechanics and how mortals actually find such a thing entertaining, the stress he was currently under might just increase tenfold and erupt in the form of a mobile phone thrown at the nearby column. ‘You like Thorn. Don’t break his phone.’ He begrudgingly reminds himself after hearing the deep and oddly suggestive voice from within the game saying the word ‘tasty’ for the fiftieth time already. Whenever he gives even so much of a glare towards Thorn, he’s only met with a painfully innocent and blissful look which takes away his intention of telling him to silence the device. He’ll just have to endure it on his own and hope it doesn’t drive him to the point of losing his objective and train of thought.

Youngmi was here a few moments ago actually. He was insisting that he’d willingly ditch the dances he was promised if his company would ease Daesung the slightest bit, but the archangel turns the offer down and says that he should enjoy the night like he wanted to.

“You look beautiful tonight, Youngmi.” He told him, voice gentle yet tone still as bland as it usually is. There wasn’t a smile present on his face, but losing the creases between his brows was enough indication of how much he genuinely meant what he said. “It would be a waste to not watch you dance with someone in that dress of yours. You earned this night.”

The young angel was still hesitant about leaving him, but after one silent gesture of Daesung’s head towards the crowd of people in the middle of the room, Youngmi gave in with a bright smile, making a promise to return before heading his way over to the dance floor.

Although he stated that he didn’t need anything to calm him down, watching the guests dance within the confines of the ballroom wasn’t comforting the tension that rattled his very bones and ruffled at his feathers in the very least. It only made him even more aware of the time and how it seemed to be either moving so slow or way too fast. Every single glance at his watch was just another question of whether he should already take his leave or standby for any danger that lurks amongst the sea of people before him. The captain made it very clear that he wanted to be seen in fifteen minutes. If he went to the rooftop before those fifteen minutes, then whatever plans Eden had may as well be ruined by his foolish assumption. The other possibility was that he arrived well after it’s too late and it was a possibility that he would much rather dismiss than ponder on for too long. Such a failure in his duty would haunt and look over him for the rest of his immortal life.

“Fifteen minutes.” The more he mumbles those two words, the more they bear an even heftier weight to them.

His eyes are switching from person to person, taking note of their facial structure while further tightening the grip of his sword while the sheathed blade’s tip punctures the marble floor. Maybe he’s supposed to find the captain’s face amongst the crowd and take it as a signal to follow him in fifteen minutes after spotting. However, knowing the stakes of this whole situation, Eden might decide on sneaking in rather than visibly pushing past people. Daesung wasn’t sure and he was certainly not liking that fact at all.

All his life, Daeaung knew exactly what to do after being given specific orders. After all, obedience and devotion are what he highly upholds above the rest of his values aside from justice. He’s used to having someone telling him what to do and him doing exactly what they asked of him in the most perfect manner possible. As long as there are instructions, Daesung will follow them till the very end and make sure he does so with absolute precision for obedience is nothing if not that.

So what is he to do when the orders are unclear and the situation makes it difficult to ask for specifics?

He’s at a loss when it comes to this and as much as the call to spiral beckons him, he can’t let himself falter— not when he was the one who volunteered to do the task. He’ll only drown when his arms grow weary of paddling aimlessly through the vast sea with no signs of land.

“Fifteen minutes.” He mutters again, the words squeezing past the crevices of his gritted teeth.

Like on cue, his phone suddenly buzzes and his heart almost drops. There’s a calm sense of haste in his movements as he fishes his phone out of his suit pocket and pulls up the Dream Guards chatroom. First he sees Demitri’s handle, then Eden’s. There’s an off-chance that this may as well be the captain coming on to inform that Daesung tremendously failed to do as told, but the probability that this is the signal he had been waiting for this entire time is far greater and one he would risk to hold onto.

Unsaid prayers are answered a few minutes later once the captain sends his messages. As soon as Daesung reads them the second they’re sent, the countdown within his head begins and all signs of tension are immediately replaced with nothing but sole determination. Only one person was allowed to see the captain after his disappearance and they are possibly going to receive the next directive alongside an explanation to what’s going on. Daesung was that person and he is very much aware of the job’s magnitude.

“Ten minutes.” He’s quite grateful to be mentioning a different number now.

Glancing down at the other dream guard who continues to play his little virtual game, he bends down and pets his hair to get his attention. “You stay put, dear. I’ll be leaving in a bit.”

He sends his own instructions to the rest of the guards within the chatroom, making sure they remain here to be wary of anything that may seem out of pocket. If Daesung was tasked to do this alone, then he shall be the only one headed for the rooftop garden to meet with Eden. Any casualties that could be drawn if one were to go against what was specifically told of them is truly not worth the risk; even if it will reassure the others of their captain’s safety.

Daesung glances around the ballroom before his gaze meets with the other guards who easily nod a silent affirmative upon eye contact. Trustworthy; these people were trustworthy in not only the captain and the mayor’s book, but Daesung as well. He knows they will ensure safety for the guests, even when the archangel was absent to confirm it.

“Five minutes.” He states, his legs now doing the work as he begins moving past the loud attendees to find his way towards the staircase. Although it seemed like it would take quite the journey to reach the rooftop with how grandiose the venue is, it took him exactly four minutes to finally arrive.

“One minute.” His hand hovers over the doorknob as his voice stays hushed, the intake of breath being the only sound heard within the dark hallway he stood in. Perfect; he always needs to achieve objective perfectly or not at all. A minute or a second too early could be a minute or a second that leads to a vain attempt at a plan.

Just as the minute that felt like an hour comes to an end, Daesung doesn’t waste another second before he opens the door.

As expected, Eden is holding up his weapon once he catches sight of the angel standing at the doorway. Daesung doesn’t so much as flinch, rather withstanding his stoic state despite the relief that washes over him upon seeing his captain in the flesh once again.

When the dory was lowered and he was instructed to close the door, Daesung instantly does as told in a delicate manner that doesn’t cause the door to produce much of a sound. He then turns back to pay his full attention to the other, nodding once before allowing himself to speak.

“Then let us make the best of it, captain. I’m all ears.”

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@✠　Jeom Daesung ↳ ᴍᴀʏ 31, 2051
↳ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: out the roof - chase atlantic

"I have to say, Enyo, it was a good chase while it lasted. I mean, you've evaded me for /days/! There aren't many who can say that." His smile was cruel, holding a xiphos under Eden's chin. "But you've always been... resilient, so I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise."

"And you've always been good at running your mouth." The hunter backhanded him for that remark, the guard captain's head snapping to the side. Thin lips spread in a smile with a cold edge, Eden's green-yellow eyes glittering. Already, he'd established that petrification didn't work, when the hunter had broken his sunglasses three days before. Here, pinned in rushing water in tunnels far below the city, his petrification ability would have come in handy to stop his old enemy. Alas, it wasn't in the cards.

"You're in no position to be making smart quips," snarled the hunter. He wore a new face, since Eden had ripped his old one off. Honestly, it was an improvement, but Eden wanted to rip this one off, too. "You've /lost/, Enyo. You're going to die just like your mother."

Ah, yes. His mother. His mother, that the hunter had slaughtered for personal gain. Eden's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening. "You do not speak of her," he hissed, and the sword twisted away from his throat, Eden's magic at work. Sharp reflexes were all that saved his adversary as he released the sword and rolled away, freeing Eden in the process. In a moment the gorgon was up and gone, deeper into the tunnels as he heard a shout behind him. Running was not Eden's usual tactic, but he had promised to meet with his Guards and the likelihood of him wriggling free a second time was slim. This was a conflict that only death would resolve.

Just as it had last time.

The gorgon rounded a corner and a body slammed into his, taking him back down into the dirty water as he let out an angry shout. Fingernails elongated into talons and Eden raked vicious gashes down the hunter's chest, taking advantage of the injury to roll them so that he was no longer the one pinned. Blood mixed into the muddy water, hunter and captain wrestling back and forth until Eden's form shimmered and he shrank and shrank and shrank until he was a tiny snake, slithering away under the cover of the murky water to make his escape.

Even if he took an altered form, it wouldn't take long for his enemy to track him. Eden would hopefully have enough time to make it to the hotel to meet with one of the Guards and deliver instructions before he was pursued. It was with this in mind that Eden, traveling in the form of a tiny snake, hitched a ride in a taxi that was headed across the city. That, too, would buy him time. Enough time to change into clean clothes that didn't reek of... things Eden would rather not think about, and douse himself in a perfume that would cover the scent the hunter was following. He'd take something of Reina's. Her perfumes were particularly... feminine and not Eden in the slightest.

In the back of the taxi, after dropping off the original fare, Eden shifted back into his bipedal form and said smoothly, "Take me to the Dream Guard barracks, please."

He felt bad for the poor, terrified taxi driver and paid him extra for his troubles upon arrival.

Eden wasn't going to the ball for the ball this time, so he paid almost no mind to what he pulled out of his closet; black pants, a green top, a jacket, a new pair of sunglasses. Then he broke into Reina's quarters (not really, he used a key) and doused himself in her most obnoxious perfume.

He absolutely reeked of artificial strawberry smell.

It was absolutely perfect.

The party was under full swing when Eden arrived, but he didn't go in through the front or side entrances. No, he slipped in through a window and made his way to the ballroom, slipping between people and attempting to avoid much notice—he knew he was a sight, hair still wet and pushed off his forehead, blood trickling down from a cut on his temple and one that the hunter had left on his sternum. But he wasn't there for a dancing partner. He needed to get the Guards' attention without gaining too much of anyone else's.

Particularly Ziminiar's.

Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. Eden slipped back out of the ballroom, followed by a few curious gazes and more than a few murmurs (which would hopefully reach the ears of the Dream Guard before they did anyone else) and stole up the stairs toward the rooftop garden, phone in hand so that he could tap out a short message to the Dream Guard chat. It was the best way to get their attention. It was the way they had been communicating since his initial disappearance. He hadn't been able to afford attempting something like this.

The only reason he could now was because of the sheer amount of people who were at the ball, as expected of one of Ziminiar's functions.

➢ captain.eden:
in fifteen minutes, meet me in the garden on the roof.

➢ captain.eden:
only one of you.

He sent the messages and pushed the door open to emerge on the roof, inhaling the scent of nature. His poor nostrils were screaming from the assault of the perfume he had liberally coated himself in, and hopefully the night air would help clear them out.

For fifteen minutes Eden paced, awaiting one of his Guards to arrive. As time trickled by he grew more and more tense, on edge, worried that this may have been a dangerous mistake. The hunter wouldn't hesitate to use one of his subordinates against him, should he catch on to who the Dream Guard were. And Eden...

He couldn't let something like that happen again.

When the door creaked open Eden spun, a dory in his hand before he had even registered that it was one of the Guard in the doorway. Some of the tension left his frame, lowering the weapon in his hand with a sigh.

"Shut the door, Daesung, we don't have long."

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