Discerning Asylum [End]

[Okoye]

It didn't take too long for Okoye to arrive at this place. Her search lasted barely a full days time, but technically she'd been traveling for two if you include the twenty hour swim from the supermax prison she managed to escape from.

-That massive fortress, now floating somewhere in the middle of the freshwater sea, thousands of miles away from any sort of dirt or soil. Okoye was told more than once that she would die in that place, cold and alone in the corner of her cell, surrounded by nothing but rot and ruin. Oh, she had hundreds of memories accumulated from a meager three year stay. Some of them darker than others, but most of them were wishes of death and demise upon this ill-fated little girl. This unlucky soul. Just how did she find herself here? Detained and chained at the center of perhaps the harshest prison in all the realms? Surrounded by a sea of avarice, lust and rage?

La Maison de La Mort' was aptly named for its impeccable retention and security. "The House of the Dead" had never experienced anything close to a riot, let alone a breakout prior to Okoye's arrival. Its walls were chiseled from enchanted stone; the likes of which suppressed both Naten and adrenaline. The facility itself was originally fully submerged thousands of leagues under water at all times and was only accessible by its guards and wardens via submarine. There weren't many of them who knew why she was here, outside of the few faces in charge of her torture and interrogation. But not even they could squeeze a word out of her. Shit, even after employing their tool boxes of delicate instruments, they could barely get a wince out of her.

Whether it was pride or loyalty was uncertain, but Okoye never spoke to them.. she never spoke to anyone.. ever. But she remembered their words. Their jeers. How sure they were that she would grow into the rusted walls she slept against, no different than the millions of others whose blood still slicked their surface before her. She cherished their doubt and disdain. It kept her warm as she cut through the cold, salty waters.

-She swam for almost an entire day before she reached solid ground. And it took her several more days of searching and bobbing through uncharted lands before she arrived on familiar ground. But upon her return to Arturcus, the capital of Kemet was all but barren. Void of life following the wrath of the Ravagers, with nothing but tombstones, graves, and ruins as its remnants. However, somewhere at the center of the dreadful ghost town had been a single beacon of hope. It was an enchanted sigil. A crest she recognized as a momento from her childhood. The same sigil was once engraved along the walls of the Colosseum, and if nothing else, existed as a symbol to any previous resident of the mighty city of Arcturus.

Upon gazing at its design, the various magics that carved the symbol into the ground burned an intangible road map into her brain. A map that led her to Neovia's Quarter of Conservation. A larger section of the territory with cobbled roads, endless meeting halls, and other social establishments. She arrived in the dead of night, yet Okoye found the city bustling with activity. Everywhere she looked, they looked the same. Not in appearance so much as in stride. Each of them focused. Concentrated. Intellectually primed for something far more important than whatever obstacle that stumbled in their path. Not many of them even took notice of this girl, soaking to the bone in her tattered prison clothes, straddled from her neck to her ankles in chains. It was there her search for information pointed her here. Overlooking Toscano Bay, and close to its neighboring forest was a house that was small enough to be a cottage.. not the home to a pillar of the world she once knew.

..no way in hell. I must have gotten lost somewhere..

She thought to herself as her irritated gaze settled upon the motley little shack that seemed to only grow less interesting in moonlight. She was hungry.. tired.. cold.. and wet. This couldn't be the place she was looking for.. whoever this Destati was, surely they had no clue or concept of what Okoye expected to find here. She sneered her crimson eyes at the tiny home. This couldn't be the place she cemented in her head. But just as she prepared to abandon hope on a place that was clearly no more, her slashing gaze stumbled upon the same sigil that sparked her voyage. She saw it plain as day, etched onto the outer walls of the humble oasis, and immediately after her curiosity goaded her further and toward the door..

[Okoye]

When she twisted the knob and the door fell right open, Okoye froze in her tracks. It was unlocked.. which despite her initial impulse to barge right in, it triggered hundreds of red flags in Okoye's mind. Every fiber of her being warned her against taking another step. That this was a trap set with considerate thought to those controlled by their impulses. There were other ways to gain what she wanted. The answers she deserved. But something else pushed her forward , and the weight of the door followed suit.

What she found on the other side was another world entirely. The door she opened was more less a portal that led toward a practically infinitely expanding library. Everywhere she looked, there were books and scrolls lining shelves that stretched higher than sequoia trees , constructed upon white and black checkered tiles. There were three floors above her, connected by a trio of spiraling stair cases on every level.

Okoye's eyes never opened so wide before. Not since she thought she was going to die fighting off that wolf-shark whose fangs were larger than her entire body. But that was fear induced, and her face was nowhere as excited as it was now. She practically raced down the hallway, jangling chains at all, her eyes bouncing between the millions of different forms of literature before her. Scrolls. Books. Poems. Passages. Covers. Titles. Authors. History. Combat. Geography. Neovia. Before long, Okoye' found her mind subconsciously categorizing what she could see into a distinguishable pattern. Possessed by her fascination. Being here unearthed vaulted emotions from her childhood; it reminded her of the years she spent in B'halia, familiarizing herself with as many books as she could. Reading for hours in an expansive athenaeums similar to this one. There she learned several different languages, studied various disciplines of philosophy, as well artesian recipes unique to B'halian cuisines. She could smell her memories and could practically taste those honeyed peppered muffins right now. She licked her lips as she curled through the pages of a book written by one Neovia's finest chefs, instantly committing every ingredient she saw to memory. Her photographic memory was one of the many gifts her dedication to books had granted her at a young age. And one of the few she retained from her home.. her real home.

But before she got to lost in this mysterious cove of boundless knowledge, her eyes focused into slits. And Immediately her demeanor grew heavy with intent. She began to rife through the books around her with far less reverence and respect than originally displayed. Pachment was flying everywhere through the air. Her eyes were zipping back and forth like an aggravated hornet. This was obviously beyond a simple love of knowledge. Okoye was looking for something.. or rather, somethings, and she knew this place at this time would be the greatest window of opportunity she'd ever have.

[Zero Venkage]

Zero heard the pages flying off the shelves, ledgers tossed to the wayside and pummeling the floor under the weight of their spines. The first few, he chalked up to a normal visit, his open door policy extended to anyone in The Conservatory looking to relax and unwind or anyone else looking for some good reads. Of course, the door to his bedroom was locked but there was nowhere else he needed to keep seriously secure, on some level, the atelier is for the people.

Converse to that he held one rule over all others: Don't break my stuff.

It took him years to collect the ledgers that lined the walls, many of the first, final, or forever editions he used to navigate the wide world of Vescrutia brought him as much joy in possessing them as it did finding them. Each one made a unique sound when its pages turned, its cover opened, it hit the ground, and it made Zero's skin crawl. He popped out of his room and yelled over the banister down into the main chamber, "Hey hey hey! Treat my shit like it's yours!" Staring at the books flying from the shelves in the hallway, he groaned as he silently flitted downstairs, approaching the hall in a fraction of a second. He quickly, but gently picked up each book his guest had thrown, righted their pages and placed them on a coffee table in the main chamber, just as silently as he appeared from his loft. The more she rifled through the books, the more interesting she appeared to him. A simple jumpsuit, soaking wet, smelled of the sea like most of the people he knew, but clearly looking for something. The chains binding her legs and feet to her neck seemed to offer her just enough room to move around, albeit not very comfortably. Reminded him a bit of himself from back in the day, or even a few days ago locked up in Uran. At least her hands were dry as she tossed the books just out of the way of the trail of water that followed her from the entrance.

"Hey, if you wanna read, read," he said, placing his thumb between the pages of the book she flipped through and coming into her line of sight. "Maybe start with one and then move on. Someone else might want to enjoy them later."

Always a collector of sorts, Zero appreciated this woman's thirst for knowledge, or adventure, whatever it was she searched for in the books she seemed to barely read before moving to the next in line. She reminded him of himself, and of the good ol' days in a visceral, unspoken kind of way. His heart jumped, similar to Qarinah revealing she had ties to the King of Chaos, but he'd never met this person before. Or had he?

"You're new around these parts I guess?"

A formality. He failed to place the face, but knew deep down he recognized her from somewhere. All his friends tended to act wild and free, a little rough around the edges, headstrong and determined. But where did he know her from? It'd eat away at him until he found out. Luckily, they had all the time in the world.

[Okoye]

Okoye's eyes traced Zk's thumb until her gaze interlocked with his and for a moment, she couldn't move. Or breathe regularly for that matter. It felt as if someone dragged the air out of her lungs. Slowly her lips parted and her mouth fell agape but nothing came out of it but awe.

It didn't take a second for her to recognize the owner of this familiar amber stare. Okoye was far too arrogant to ever admit to being enamored or starstruck; but the look of her face, her body language, in that moment every feature she possessed conveyed a single message.

I.. know you.

Well not exactly. Okoye had never met ZK before, not in a formal or traditional sense anyway. She never shared words with man. And truthfully, she doubted if he truly recognized her face. But by all means, Okoye knew the legend of Zero Venkage. By word and witness. His displays of otherworldly talent and ability within the Great Colosseo etched his name in the minds of all who witnessed with immortal ink. She remembered taking part in the cheers and boasts of his many monikers as he embarrassed his foes in the Arena;" ZeroVenkage, Breathing Lightning, Usurper of Speed, God of the Sky!". She would watch him from the nosebleeds of the stadium before going home to mimic his dazzling movements in the mirror. As she grew older, Okoye would often train her mind by sparing the imaginary shadow of him she molded in her head. She absorbed what she could like any child enchanted by their hero. Aspiring to do what they do.. But that long ago. Ten years to be exact.

Okoye blinked her eyes a few times and readjusted her slacked jaw. This was.. very uncharacteristic of her. She felt like she'd regressed in age for a moment and swiftly corrected her posture as result. This was in fact the place she was looking for, but she never imagined to find what she did. Still, she wasn't exactly sure what she expected to do when she got here.

"..."

But she already had so many questions. She cleared her throat as if to speak, but instead Okoye responded with a set of hand gestures.

"Can you understand me?"

Is what she asked via sign language. She wouldn't be surprised if his response was an empty, vapid stare. It was rare she encountered someone versed in VSL (Vescrutian Sign Language), but Okoye was fluent in several different languages. Before today, she was unsure of Zero's academic qualifications and never cared to find out while watching him compete. It was painfully clear that his talents didnt end at the arena. But It would take little effort to compensate if he couldn't understand her gestures.

[Zero Venkage]

"Aw nuts..."

Zero was immediately embarrassed, he had a few books on VSL he kept around for just this kind of situation but he never cracked them, too busy with other things to sit down and really study the language. The only signs he understood were 'you' and 'me' as she communicated silently with him. His eyes frantically darted around the room as he traced the walls, hoping to find any of them without much delay. Unfortunately, they evaded him for right now. He walked and walked, increasing his speed lining the walls, walking a spiral around and up all three floors before leaping back down empty handed.

"Okay, so I can't find my VSL book but... Can you... Gah."

Fluent in the common tongue and some ancient Fae languages, Zero worried he wasn't going to be able to communicate with his guest. He mulled it over for another few seconds, getting a better understanding for her silent situation. Fairly wet, chained up, and looking about as baffled as he felt, he needed some time to actually find his VSL copy, it never left the shelf, but he didnt' remember what shelf he stored it. He needed to buy some time.

"Um, hmmmmm?" he asked, pulling at his own shirt and pulling his fists apart from each other in the air in front of him sharply. Maybe he could get her some dry clothes and out of the chains that bound her. She looked hungry enough to take down in a pinch, but he had more than enough ways to remove someone if need be, and the furniture might not take well to the water exposure, even less so to the sea grime. She looked like she got put through the ringer and could probably use a refreshment.

[Okoye]

Her eyes followed Zero as he traversed his library until he ultimately returned from the upper floors of the room. Immediately, Okoye could tell by the rose-red tint flushing his cheeks when she began signing that her host was painfully aware of what VSL is, but he didn't know a single sign. She did well to keep from laughing. Instead, after his graceful landing and his humble confession, Okoye' responded by reaching into her pocket and unveiling a blue pen; one she lifted from the unnamed Neovian academic that directed her here. She took a moment to write on the palm of her hand and revealed to him a couple of messages.

The first one read:

"I can understand you, and I know who you are."

Written legibly in the common tongue despite her cold and dampened skin. The other message scribbled below it came with a visual aide.

"I got your message."

After she was sure Zero had read her palm writings, Okoye slightly unzipped her jumper and revealed the tattoos on her shoulder. The patterns resembled Japanese Irezumi: decorations in red and black ink featuring a dichotomy of mythical flora and fauna, illustrated in a way to convey a unique story. Okoye's life. The entirety of her body art extended along her neck, arms, back and leg. But along her left shoulder was a symbol less exotic than the others. One Zero would recognize as the seal of Arcturus. The same one imprinted on the outerwalls of the building. The same one that drew her to this place.

"You are the sky."

She said, signing subconsciously. But they were simple gestures that he'd probably feel more than he could linguistically understand.

[Zero Venkage]

Zero's eyes widened understanding where she came from.

"Oh shit, you're an OG!" He screamed, almost hugging her on the spot, but recoiling when she shows him her shoulder, adorned in elaborate tattoos. Wherever she came from, she definitely passed through The Crucible and the sigil she scribbled in her palm he definitely recognized. Why wouldn't he, he's the one who left it there? The details about her identity started coming together for him, a mute, tatted, probably hungry girl looking like she literally just washed up off the sea, she's one of the kinfolk.

The last thing that he did before leaving the site of the Fall, placing a Seal of Arcturus stamp on one of the foundation blocks, enchanted with Mistral. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew that if anyone else survived that ordeal, they might need to see a familiar face. The girl in front of him was the most recent example, a few other ex-Arcturians paid him a visit since he set up shop in Toscano Bay, although he'd never told anyone. Unfortunately, this lucky sprite in front of him failed the recognition test.

"Man, I haven't been called that in a minute. But here we are! Who are you? Do you need some dry clothes?"

Zero kind of gushed over her, she looked young, but well traveled, she reminded him of himself around the time of The Fall with a little less youthful wonder behind her eyes and more hard time, hard work. The tattoos spoke that of her journeys, but the solid color jumpsuit and full-body chain set said even more. Zero didn't get caught for his crimes until a month ago and he turned himself in. He could only imagine what stories the symbolically inked scars actually told.

"Or to get out of those chains?"

[Okoye]

"Oh shit, you're an OG!" He screamed, almost hugging her on the spot, but recoiling when she shows him her shoulder, adorned in elaborate tattoos.

She too slightly recoiled as Zero motioned to embrace her. Not that she didnt welcome or appreciate his enthusiasm. It was just.. unfamilar. Compassion, let alone ginger human touch was hardly recognizable to someone when it wasnt exactly a reoccurring theme in their life. In truth, it was more of an abstract concept to her than much else. She was never coddled as a baby, not even by the nurses or physicians. Her parents never embraced before she was banished, and Okoye always had shit luck when it came to making friends. So at an inkling of an authentic gesture of kindess, she instinctively folded her arms across her chest after he'd recognized the symbol on her palm and shoulder. Luckily, the awkward moment between the two of them barely lasted a second before Zero continued.

"Man, I haven't been called that in a minute. But here we are! Who are you? Do you need some dry clothes? Or to get out those chains"

Modesty bowed her head toward the bundle of steel strangling her arms and legs. She'd been dragging around nearly fourteen feet of chains and shackles for so long now, she would often forget they were there. The glyphs carved upon the shackles on her wrist, neck, and ankles bore adrenaline dampening and Naten draining properties. She'd grown so accusmtomed to their encumbering weight, she feared she wouldn't be able to properly balance herself without them. In total, the circuit of steel and chains coiled around her weighed in at just under three tons. And by design, they were never intended to be removed. But they would tighten and increase in weight whenever they sensed resistance.

Inmates were analyzed and fitted with their restraints the second they were processed at the Maison de La Mort' by an ultra-advanced adaptive algorithm programmed by the precursors of the facility. From there inmates were expected to eat, sleep, shit, shower, and die garbed in the same jumper and chains that they arrived in. It was impossible for the body not to succumb to such meticulous, debilitating tactics. People usually developed spinal conditions, muscle disfigurements, or other sorts crippling injuries after just a year of being detained within, "The House of The Dead". Okoye had been there for three.. and today would have made four if she hadn't awoken her latent abilities. The strength of her voice literally blew a hole into the ceiling of the impenetrable fortress, freeing hundreds of surviving prisoners.

Naturally, she tried to remove the retraints on her own the second she washed up on dry land. But her arms and legs felt like puddy after that extraneous swim, so she opted to save what little strength she retained to find shelter.

And here she was.

Okoye looked up from her reflective trance and humbly nodded in acceptance to his offer, concealing her toothy smile behind calm lips. It just felt more natural for her to hide her feelings, even the positive ones. It was hard, considering the stature of her company.. but experience had conditioned her to maintain her wits at all times. Especially around powerful men. Time and time again, she witnessed just how frivolous and impulsive they could be and came to understand just how differently the world worked when you were ppwerful. It would take some time for her shoulders to relax, no matter how calm his eyes felt against her skin. Still.. there was a genuine kindness to their amber glow. Something honest and sincere. Which again.. felt incredibly uncharacteristic of her. She'd only ever felt this comfortable with one other person; an old man she met in prison whose name she never learned. Yet to this day, he was probably the only genuine friend she ever met.

So again, Okoye ignored the red flags and sunk into this eerie sensation of vulnerability. Trusting it, and the silver haired man she'd only ever seen from a casualties distance. She lifted her arms to him, bearing her heavy shackles and chains in front of her as if she expected Zero with all his prestige and power, to simply snatch her them directly from her wrists. It was childishly comical to anyone that wasn't her. In her head, Okoye felt so incredibly awkward. Embarrassed really. Like a son or daughter begging a complete stranger for help. It drove stakes into her ego, but she'd be a fool to deny such a service. Her belly was growling. Her legs were trembling. And now that her heart rate was slowing down, that icy chill from her dampened suit began cutting against her skin.

[Zero Venkage]

"I got you," Zero said, rubbing his fingers together to build a static charge to his hands. Looking at the bonds, they seemed solid enough to get their job done, but nothing a little roughhousing can't fix. He clapped and his hands came alive in an eerie, purple glow.

"This might feel a little weird."

Zero moved as swiftly as he could, Tossing each of her limbs under his arm and yanking the chains from the bindings. Each made a loud pop and his body blocked shrapnel from flying in her face. With that done, he dashed up to his room in the next second, rummaging around before he returned in a burst of wind with a set of clothes, a comfortable shirt and pants set from some far flung forest. There were socks and a pair of house shoes as well, complete with a matching sleeping hat with a cute, fluffy creature's face on the front.

"And this is the coziest stuff that I can find." He laughed as the thought crossed his mind that just because she knew him from the Abyss, doesn't mean she's not here to rough him up, and he just let her loose without a second thought. He paused his breathing for a moment, just to mark the thought in his mind; the odds of her breaking out of jail and finding him to break his face were probably low, but not zero, and she would be the second woman to try in a month, the third in a decade. He just laughed it off and hoped she'd feel comfortable taking his clothes.

"If you like, there's a shower and bath down the hall and you can refresh while I find some paper and that damn VSL book and we can chat. I bet you have a pretty good story to tell."

He had a ton of pens and decent paper around in notebooks, and the chance to find his VSL dictionary would do wonders. A lot could happen in captivity in ten years and unfortunately, being able to relax isn't one of those things. Being able to offer that is part of what the Atelier was for.

[Okoye]

After Zero removed her shackles, Okoye took a step back and filled her lungs with air. For a moment she thought she would literally float away without them. The sensation she felt upon their removal, the jangling crash of that crippling weight shaking the floor beneath her. It was difficult to describe.. but it was infinitely more for someone with an ego as massive as hers to say thank you to another person. After that euphoirc feeling of weightlessness washed over her, Okoye's eyes traced the room as she vetted her options. Maybe she could bow? 15 degrees, and no more. It was sufficient according to what she'd been taught about formalities within B'halia. Or could nodding respectfully properly convey her thanks.. But before she settled on a formal, less degrading tribute of her appreciation, Zero had already left and returned in a blister of speed, holding in his hands a dry set of clothes.

Okoye did her best to keep her self-respect and dignity in tact, but the idea of being able to shower alone nearly forced a joyful squeel from this veteran killer. Then.. it dawned on her. Her nostrils flared a few times as her pits, wrists, and neck suddenly started dripping. Sweating.

God..I smell like dogshit.

Now that she wasn't smothered by the atmosphere of the prison, she finally noticed how nose blind she'd gone. The stench rolling from her body, particularly from beneath her shackle impressions, reeked of dirt, salt, and rotting skin. Her face notably recoiled. Maybe he hadnt gotten close enough to tell, but she was grateful Zero hadnt pointed out the obvious. The last time she was allowed to bathe it was surrounded by a host of dozen others, and none of them were allowed to remove their jumpsuits. Her cheeks went blood shot from the embarrassment. Humbly, Okoye accepted his gift and disappeared down the hall and into the restroom. But not before she turned around to face Zero and issued a bow at thirty degrees. No more and no less.

-*-*-

Okoye returne pampered and comfortable. She forewent the shoes, socks, and comfortable hat. She smelled like a mixture of the different soaps and oils offered within the Altier's bathroom. The luxuries reminded her of home, and she wound up reflecting under the exquiste water pressure longer than she wanted. But aside from wallowing in the woes of her exile, Okoye spent her time in the shower trying to figure out what she wanted to ask her host. She had a million questions and an undetermined amount of time to ask them. So instead of spending hours bathing, as would anyone accustom to squalor would have, she was in and out in ten minutes.