Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2020 8:01:39 GMT -5
Oh, what was a man to do? After spending hours, hours, and even more hours, studying away at the knowledge that his family had obtained Alexander felt hardly any closer than he was before. Well, in truth, that wasn’t exactly true. In one area he had made great leaps and bounds. But there was also something he didn’t feel any closer to. Resting his booted feet up on the table in front of him, Alexander’s blue eyes settled themselves on the strange, black, obelisk that stood before him. The black stoned marker, etched with demonic symbols, stood lifeless upon the table as it tended to do unless activated. Beneath it was an intricate seal drawn into the wood. A three layered circle etched in complex runes and symbols, designed to contain the effects of the artifact from radiating outwards.
Alexander was, as usual, in his basement laboratory. Not really a lab, but, that was pretty much what it was. A rather sizable dungeon made from brick. Various tools, bookcases, and various other objects of interest littered the basement. Etched into the walls, ceiling, and floors were various marking, circular symbols, and various runes. Wards. Designed by the Alistair family to keep the corrosive effects of Hell, particularly their artifacts, from leaking out. A containment chamber for all things demonic. Alex could probably drag a Sinner down into his basement and it wouldn’t be able to escape. Unless Hell itself came to reclaim it. But this did, essentially, mean that Alexander was sitting in a hotbox of demonic influence.
He had added a third layer to the ward surrounding the Black Marker in recent days, having learned how to create a stronger barrier from the texts he had been studying. With the reclaiming of the Alistair Hold, the treasure trove of knowledge his family possessed, Alexander was becoming a far more proficient demonologist than he had been before. But the reason he had opted to add a third layer to the containment seal around this particular artifact was because, as he was worried, the amount of exposure he was having to it while he studied and worked on it was beginning to affect him.
It started with a whisper. The sort that he wasn’t sure if it had been in his head or not. Like when you’re trying to fall asleep at night and your brain says your name so you think somebody else is in your house. So real that it did make Alexander jump. But there hadn’t been anybody. The feelings of anxiety and paranoia were beginning to take root in Alex as well. The longer he spent around the artifact the more his mental state was being affected. The whispers, over time, upped their frequency and volume. Aside from the few times he could make out his name and other words, they were always inaudible. But it wasn’t as though Alex focused on trying to hear them.
He was trained from a young age to be able to resist the deteriorating mental effects of demonic artifacts. He was able to maintain his focus, his composure, and his dedication. But while Alexander would proclaim himself as a professional, the best, and the greatest, he was not without chinks in the armor. At some point Alexander’s unnatural anxiety had reached a point that he felt safer with having a few transformed arrows standing guard over him. While they were not true individuals having his Shadows with him helped to ease the worries. It at least meant that nothing was going to get the jump on him.
For a few days, while allowing his wounds to continue healing, Alex spent his time in the Alistair Hold to gather himself. Despite his lacking reading comprehension, the Quincy spent some time further diving into the knowledge of his ancestors. Normally, Alex wouldn’t put so much effort into a project like this. He was the type to put the hard work on someone else if it wasn’t something that interested him. But the Black Marker was different. He had two reasons to continue studying it. The first was, well, because Amalia Vollbrecht told him to. She wanted to use the artifact's abilities for her own benefits. Alex couldn’t turn down a request from The Particle herself, after all. Especially when it would get him further into her good graces.
But the second, and bigger, reason was its connection to the demon known only as “Diablo”. The demon that destroyed Alexander’s family. Why did this demon send his forces to claim this object? What secret did it hold? It was obvious to Alex that it was a key. A literal key. It used human sacrifices to activate and would no doubt open a portal to Hell. But… would it? Alexander had not tried it. He hadn’t attempted to activate the Marker. He had only tested what it was capable of. In normal, untrained, people it would cause them to become violent and suicidal. Taking not only their life but those around them as well. A dangerous object to turn man against man, all for the sake of some ritual.
Flipping the page, Alexander could only yawn as he leaned away from the book he was reading. God he hated to read. ”I need some air.” Alexander proclaimed, the chair scraping against the floor as the Quincy rose to his feet, acting as though his declaration was the most important thing in the world. Of course before he could go anywhere, he had to grab the crutch he was forced to rely on to walk. Stepping towards the staircase that led up to his quarters, Alex looked back at the helix shaped obelisk sitting on the wooden table. ”Don’t you go anywhere.” he said with a smirk, pointing over his shoulder at the object before climbing up his stairs.
Shutting the basement door behind him, Alexander took a long, deep, breath as he leaned against what was behind him. Despite only climbing a flight of stairs it felt as though he was breathing in air as fresh as what you’d find at the top of the mountain. He was spending too much time around that thing. As he took in that deep breath, however, he winced with pain. ”Still hurts to breath.” Alexander commented under his breath as he looked down at himself. He was still forced to wear the casts on the damaged parts of his body. His right arm, his left leg’s knee, and even required to wear some bindings around his torso. We heal so slowly. We humans.. he found himself thinking as he looked at himself.
Injuries sustained during the battle to retake his family's library. The demonic forces of Diablo had been waiting for Alexander to undo the seal that protected his families hold from intruders and threats, springing a trap on the Quincy in the hopes of killing him and seizing or destroying everything. If Alexander had to be honest he had no choice but to confess that he was only alive because he dragged Amalia along with him. It was thanks to her awesome power that he was still breathing. These injuries were merely the result of his years of, well, let’s say laziness. He enjoyed the privileges of his position a little too well. He was at least not hurting as much as he did.
The sudden sound of the grandfather clock in his entrance-way caught his attention. He cast his eyes in the direction of the sound before noticing that it was noon. ”Ah, yes, right.” he said to himself, remembering that he had an appointment at the medical wing today. A check up to see how he was coming along. After all, Alexander had absolutely refused to remain lying in bed for however long it took him to heal. He had work to do. Yes he promised to take it easy. Reading and tinkering with the Black Marker was certainly easy. ”Hmm… I suppose I should get going.” he said to himself, deciding that what he was wearing was just going to be good enough. He opted to wear something comfortable and casual rather than his typical attire.
But as Alexander started to move himself towards the front door he paused. He blinked. He then started laughing a little. ”Oh right. I almost forgot. It’s a house call.” he laughed to himself, almost actually being willing to walk the mile it took to get to the medical wing from his place. When he had a broken knee. With an efforted grunt he found his way to the parlor of his home, sitting himself down one of his two large red leather couches. He frowned, looking over at the fireplace, and with a snap of his fingers the fires were lit. ”Much better..” he said to himself, lifting his cast covered leg up with a grunt and a groan and resting it on the small table that sat between the two couches. ”Oh this is much better..” he said with a content sigh, opting to relax and wait for the house call to arrive. He hoped he got a cute one this time and not that guy again. Of course, after awhile, the doorbell to his home went off. Opening his eyes back up after having dozed off a little, Alexander sent one of his Shadows to open the door. "Enter!" he shouted loud enough to be heard, as the entity went to open the door. A entity comprised of black reiatsu, formed in the shape of a armored knight. Its armor entirely unique and detailed. Ethereal blue lights shone from beneath its helmet visor. Not the most expected of door greeters, but this was why Alex didn't have servants. He could make his own.