It's Alive! (Leviathan)

[Malia]

Timestamp: 56th of Summer, 510 AV

The pale, thin figure was roaming the streets of Syliras at a leisurely pace, black hair swaying behind her back. A year earlier she would have passed as human easily, but now her body started to show obvious signs of decay.

Time for Malia to jump into a fresh corpse. Thinking about it, she should have done that in Sahova already. From what she’d heard dead bodies were cremated in Syliras to save the place that would have been needed for a cemetery. Needless to say, this complicated things quite a bit. But Malia had gotten corpses and done the ritual countless times before, so she was sure that she’d come up with a decent plan once more.

Even the first step, finding a dead corpse that hadn’t yet been burned, proved to be difficult. Malia had no clue if bodies were cremated publicly or in private, immediately after death or after a waiting period of a few days. Killing wasn’t an option for her.

Back when she’d been on the long journey through half of Mizahar, her ‘Master’ had provided for the new bodies. Malia had only needed to open her mouth and transfer the ichor into the new body. A few times he’d let her obtain a body on her own, but she’d always been lucky enough to come across a young girl with a lethal illness or a raped and murdered ex-damsel she could use for her own purposes without anyone noticing or caring.

This time, of course, it was different. She couldn’t even remember where between Sahova and Syliras the decision to obtain a new corpse had been made. Still she hadn’t planned out a single thing or had a single fact she could work with in mind.

So, this particular morning she had rushed through the usual health care, gotten dressed and left the little apartment to trace whispered words and rumors in the familiar streets of Syliras. Although her flesh started to decay, her senses were still in excellent shape. Picking up bits of conversation here and there, asking discreet questions to citizens who appeared trustworthy, Malia tried to find out if there were any dying or recently dead and not yet burned young women in the city.

Based on her experience and calculation, she had a few weeks left to find herself a new, fresh corpse. For some unknown reason, however, she had decided that she’d get it now, today. Perhaps she was already being observed. Perhaps she didn’t have as much time left as she had anticipated. Perhaps she should calm down and be reasonable about the problem …

Starting that thought anew, Malia knew that she needed a corpse soon. If she didn’t find one to her liking in, let’s say, three days, she would consider killing someone. She’d have to make sure that the person lived alone and had no close friends who started searching for them, but in such a big city as Syliras there had to be at least one person fulfilling those conditions!

Of course, she’d have to be very careful nevertheless.

While the Nuit walked and pondered over her problem, a pretty young girl crossed her path. Malia, lost in thought, hardly noticed her at the time, but later remembered how beautiful and fresh the body had appeared: Not older than twenty, a fragile girl of average height, with creamy pale skin and bright red hair. There might be Inarta blood flowing through her veins.

Hadn’t the girl looked perfectly healthy, though? If she had been human, Malia would have sighed, but so she simply pushed the picture aside and opened her ears to the town gossip once again.

[Leviathan]

Gossip, rumors, what other method was best for finding out both truths and falsities? Malia had noticed the red hair. Who wouldn't? It didn't take too close of an examination, though a little might be required, to see the red wasn't natural in particular, perhaps she was brown or blond, maybe even a natural red, but what her hair was now, different, blood red, colored. A new fashion in Syliras? Unlikely. The girl, though physically healthy, did not appear emotionally so, at least not at that moment. If only Malia had wandered into the area two chimes ago, she could have witness the dramatic scene blossom and explode in all its radiance, another lover, another leaver. As Malia walked, well away from the blood-red-head, there were plenty of conversations to be heard that hinted, in great detail at that, on what had happened. "...Poor man, I hear this one actually tried to love her enough to stand her." "You mean he actually stayed a few days? Isn't she like..." "Oh yes, and it's getting worse. Even the horniest of men can't stand to be around her long enough to..." Very unladylike talk, yet it was clear as day. That woman, perhaps Malia's intuition picked something up in her that her conscious mind did not, but the conversations of two woman clarified some sort of problem with the blood-red-head doll-faced beauty. Whatever the word was, the ladies were uncomfortable in saying it. But it was there, hanging over them like a fluorescent sign. Crazy. Further eves dropping would reveal that the woman went through dozens of relationships within a single season, however impossible that might seem, and it was well known around the 'gossiping' sections of town that she was also notorious for both loving and hating men, and in turn forcing about all men to hate her, or fear her. Her actions in particular may have been unknown, but there was one thing that was obvious. This woman had no friends, this woman had no lover, this woman had the natural tendency to drives people away from her like she had a plague. "I heard she tried to kill the last man that left her." "I live near her, I can hear her screaming through the night almost every other night. It's nearly unbearable. I wish somebody would put her out of her misery." "Don't say that! It's never right to wish death upon someone..." Perhaps the Blood-red-head was as good a target as any. Now, how to make a lonely psychotic woman into a fresh unblemished corpse...

[Malia]

Further slowing her pace upon the rumors reaching her ears, Malia went around a corner and stopped in the shadow of a narrow alleyway. There she turned and moved just enough of her head around the corner to hear what the two women were talking.

Come to think of it, the girl’s hair color hadn’t really looked natural. Red wasn’t common in Syliras, but not unseen of either. This specific hue of red seemed to be extremely rare, though. Malia wondered about the secret behind, but should she fail to unveil it, that was fine with her as well. She might have to dye it though, for she didn’t want her new vessel to stand out of the crowd.

Apparently the girl wasn’t right in the mind, had no friends and no relatives, judging from the idle gossip. Her attitude was that of a passionate lover, but it turned out that she hurt men just as passionately. It sounded like the perfect catch. Nobody would miss her; instead people would be glad of her disappearance. Nobody would find out that she had been killed either – for she could have committed suicide just as well, right? Malia’s fingers itched. She could just do it and complete the task this day.

She didn’t though.

As hopelessly lost the girl obviously was, her case intrigued Malia. She sensed a chance to study the darkest recesses of the human mind as well as check if the girl really was the perfect victim of her plans. Plus, she felt a desire to learn about the life of the person whose body she would occupy. When obtaining a new corpse, she had to be double-sure that there were no disadvantages.

After all, the Nuit still had plenty of time to study the girl’s life. During the process, she hoped, she would also find out the best way of expelling the soul from the body.

Having made up her mind like that, Malia reentered the street and approached the two women. Still fascinated by the latest whispers about the crazy beauty, they had no problem with telling a polite young lady her address. Face plastered with a hint of false poison, Malia muttered something about a boyfriend and continued her stroll into the direction of the redhead’s apartment.

Upon her arrival, she knocked at the door and waited. It wasn’t the first time she had to fake emotions to get what she wanted. Humans were more at ease around those they considered human as well. To get information from the girl Malia had to radiate an aura of humanity and passion.

How long ago had she seriously played human for the last time? She’d have to bring long lost memories and buried emotions back to the surface to control all the pawns in that game.

[Leviathan]

It was quite fortunate really. The gossiping women didn't even hardly take notice of Malia, or her situation as a slowly deteriorating animated corpse, their attention was else where. Little Miss Blood-Red-Head was far too interesting. The women, with a false politeness quickly answered Malia, telling where the target lived, and returned back to conversation with her friends. They didn't even consider Malia's possible motives. When Malia reaches the designated location, there were several features to be noted. A cloudy window thoroughly cracked in a series of spider-web-like patterns, a single door that was completely broken of the top hinge, thus was tilted so badly that it wouldn't hardly close. From inside the slightly ajar door, the woman could be seen pacing in and out of sight from said opening. In her hand was a glass vase, a bright pink transparent color, empty of water, flowers, and everything else that one might hold in a vase. At the sound of a knocking at the door, the woman screamed out, as if she was suddenly being attacked or haunted by a vicious spirit. The vase in her hand was hurled across the room, a cloud of razor sharp shrapnel pieces exploded from the window as flying glass body met the weak window. "Petch off you lying scumbag! I won't let you feed me lies anymore! Leave!" Very rude, but it was apparent that she expected her ex-lover to be at her door. It would probably have been a first after a relationship went sour with her. She did not move to welcome her visitor.

[Malia]

Malia had dressed properly for her body obtaining. She was wearing the new clothes she had bought just a few days ago and had applied cream to her thin hands and face powder to her facial skin to conceal the bags under her eyes. Speaking so that the black tongue remained invisible came naturally to her anyway. The deep black voids that were her eyes she couldn’t hide, of course.

The woman seemed highly nervous, hysterical even. To Malia’s surprise she hurled the pink vase into the direction of the door, but fortunately hit the window instead. Quickly she turned away and buried the hands in her pockets. The fragile spots of skin that still looked close to human had to be protected. She would have to be careful when dealing with the redhead.

It took her a couple of seconds to realize whom the girl was expecting. Then, however, she simply said: “I won’t lie to you. I only wish to speak with you.” She neither entered the abode nor did she step back, but tried to give her voice a soothing and peaceful tone. Malia was an observer by nature – she’d rather wait for the girl’s reaction and give an explanation later. Studying the redhead’s behavior would give her a clue of how to deal with her. She still didn’t know how she should get the girl dead, but perhaps she found out something she could work with when speaking with the girl.

Additionally, she hoped that she could get the reason for her apparent ‘craziness’ out of the girl, so that she could be sure about eventual drawbacks when taking over the corpse.

[Leviathan]

OOCI'm so so so so so Sorry for taking forever. I've been incredibly busy with School Starting, Change of work location, and trying to spend time with my buddy before he returns to the Air Force, as well as trying to think something up to even post. I promise I will force myself to post more often from now on, even if the quality is terrible.

There was silence for a moment, much like a viewing of landscape once thoroughly consumed by a raging fire. It was thick, heavy, one might even cut the anxiety in the air with the proverbial knife (assuming one felt anxiety of course). The blood red head woman, for a long moment (visible only partially through the slightly ajar door that could have easily been kicked away, did not move as she listened, not the voice of a man, as she had inaccurately assumed, but a woman. There was a sound of a sigh, shuffling off feet, a few scattered shardlings of glass underneath her feet as she moved to the door and pushed it open (yes, the door opened outwards) to see Malia, the decaying woman. Ms. Blood-Red-Head did not take notice of the walking corpse as what it really was, a Nuit, but instead a visitor, which honestly was incredibly rare. Technically, much opposed to her outrageous actions when she assumed her ex-boyfriend had returned in attempt for a second chance, she actually desired his return, or even any of the dozens... and dozens... of men she was with in the past. Instead it was a woman, who was still better than nobody, it was not somebody she wished to marry. Her face had obvious sign of tears... mainly obvious because there literally were glistening trails from her eyes (partially lined with black, some sort of make-up probably) and all the way down her cheeks. Without so much as a word exchanged between them, the Red haired woman grabbed Malia and pulled her into a rather strong embrace, as if they had been friends for a very long time. "What's wrong with me?" The tears were bound to flood forth once again in mere moments, probably all the way down Malia's clothing too. "Am I really so ugly? So unreasonable? Has Lavitu cursed me? Is Syna really so cruel?" The woman began to moan and loathe in her self-pity, obviously forgetting which gods did or controlled what. Maybe in her hysteria, perhaps because she was merely spouting names she heard mentioned before. After a few minutes of this, the woman stepped back inside the small home, leading Malia by the hand (and such a tight grip it was), and taking her to a rather poor chair in the woman's bedroom. Said chair was, miraculously, one of the few pieces of furniture left standing in this woman's chaotic rage. She sat on the bed and placed her palms over her face, each hand hiding an eye. "I loved him so much. Why are men so selfish?"

[Malia]

When she heard footsteps passing shattered glass, Malia’s body tensed. It was more a defending mechanism than anything else, for she recognized that the woman’s voice had faded and her steps weren’t quick or strong enough to be called enraged.

When the woman pushed open the door, her features were once again visible to Malia – and such a beautiful body! Instantly Malia decided that that corpse would be her future vessel. Not because she felt pity for that woman who seemed to confused and lonely, but because of her doll-like beauty. She would make a fine vessel and a good protection. Changing her appearance as much as possible was Malia’s top priority. What would be better than transforming one’s appearance from a wallflower and slightly eerie one to pretty and doll-like innocence? That woman’s body was beautiful in that innocence and helplessness it radiated. Because it was so different from Malia’s true intentions and personality, it would make the perfect disguise.

Regardless of her dark thoughts, she didn’t move when the woman pressed against her chest, staining her clothing with hot tears and warming up the cold skin underneath. She still wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing or what she was even required to do to get the corpse and chase the soul currently living in it away.

Suddenly she felt a strong pull and stumbled forward, into the chaotic apartment. Redhead dragged her through the living room towards the bedroom and apparently expected her to sit down in the only chair that was still standing and in one piece. She herself took place at her bed. Disrespecting the offer – and thinking that redhead didn’t care anyway – Malia placed herself on the bed as well, directly in front of her and studied her expression.

First she said nothing, merely watched. Obviously the woman was disappointed and pretty much desperate. A good victim, Malia thought, among other things. Finally she commented on the last statement. “Then, why are your expectations so high?” Her voice was cold, devoid of sympathy for that poor creature, although she felt with her to a certain degree.

Not only men were selfish, after all. “It is the human nature, you know”, she added and would have sighed if she had the breath to do it.

[Leviathan]

The woman was confused, almost scared judging by the look on her face. These questions were those of logic, not emotion. This woman, Malia, was questioning her like an intelligent human being. That might have been the problem though. She was not used to being treated like this. She acted impulsively, illogically, hence the very reason very few tried to reason with her. Or perhaps there was another reason. Many people called her insane, crazy, perhaps there was a hint of truth in those words. "I don't know. Who are you? What's your name?" It just seemed to dawn on the woman that Malia was a complete stranger in her home. That look in her eyes shifted gradually, but unmistakably, from sorrow to that of caution, almost violent. Did she suspect the Nuit was the very thing she actually was? It would probably complicate things. The woman stood up from the bed and began to pace around the small room, his hands turning fidgety as she began searching the room for something, or at least her hands were, those eyes stayed trained on Malia as if she was no more than a snake ready to pounce. "You obviously don't understand love." It was all the woman managed to say as she gave up her fruitless search and fell to her knees onto the crummy floor and burying her face in her hands, the silent sobbing was, before long, continued. "You can't understand how much love I gave them! Each of them... it's an injustice to leave me like this."

[Malia]

Malia watched the woman’s reaction without showing her feelings and thoughts. The questions seemed to bring her to full consciousness again. Indeed, that illogical, unpredictable state of mind could never be called conscious. Conscious was something that could be predicted to a certain degree. Conscious was of the mind. Emotions and any form of displaying them belonged to the heart, a heart Malia didn’t have a connection with.

Still, she hoped that by revealing a bit of personal information she could regain the redhead’s trust or at least bring back the previous state of carelessness. “I am Azola”, she said and fell silent. If everything went like she had planned, that name would soon be the trademark of her opponent’s body. How paradoxical. But the entire world was like that which made it kind of understandable. Only kind of, though.

The restless pacing of the woman made Malia a bit nervous. Was she getting suspicious? Was she thinking about how to throw out the unwanted guest without the use of violence? Malia couldn’t be sure. That one was hard to read, her mind appeared messed up. Lunatic. Maybe she was crazy, after all, a prophet from Malia’s own future if she ever dared to give in to her emotional side. Not that Malia had much emotion left in her, she perceived coolly, but they always came back and invaded her once again. Never was she completely free of them. Sometimes it bothered her, but most of the time not so. It definitely didn’t when she looked at the redhead who suddenly flung herself at the floor and continued sobbing.

“Do you understand love?” she asked then, trying to give her voice a soothing tone. Having realized that logic and reason wouldn’t help her, Malia tried to find a way into her mind by pretending emotions she didn’t have. Pretend sympathy! “I am sure you do as you have experienced many different faces of love. What do you say? Why did it never work?”

If she played her cards right, she could perhaps get the redhead to commit suicide and make her believe it was her own idea. Malia wasn’t in a hurry, after all, she had enough time to contemplate every step and do the right thing.

[Leviathan]

The woman circled the room a few times, she seemed almost lost within her own home for a few moments, as if looking for the exit. After several moments of doing this, Malia gave her name, or a false one, either worked for a stranger. The woman slowly stopped her circling around Malia, her head hung low, her eyes burning into the floor, she glanced up, and actually smiled. "Azola is a beautiful name. It reminds me of my sister, Lanila. I don't know why. It's been almost ten years since she died. Haven't seen her in a while either..." The woman paused for a moment, glancing at Malia and pulled her into a large, long, and strong embrace. "I feel like you've been taking care of me for so long and we've only just met." The red headed woman still, even at this distance, was unable to realize Malia was but an aging corpse. The woman would then sit on the bed, he gaze shifting to the corner of the room for a moment, as if there was a figure there, a person speaking to her. Then she broke her gaze to fix it again on the Nuit before her. "Love? I... Yes, I think so. I loved them, all of them with all my heart. Oh, it feels so broken now. What should I do Azola? I feel so empty without somebody beside me, but I feel so... wrong with someone as well. What do I do? What-" The woman with the red hair once again glanced into the corner of the room, it was obvious that something was there, even if it really wasn't there at all. The woman nodded lightly as a strong silent gasp attacked her. "Maybe... It can't work at all..." The woman was thinking it, but she didn't want to admit it was her herself that was the problem. "Azola, what can I do?"