Closed Stabbing with Sickness

Nephti isn't feeling well.... Penny better not get the wrong impression.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Nephti on November 7th, 2017, 6:58 pm

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61st Fall 517

She awoke feeling better. The blotchiness in her vision had gone, and the world was clear as an Eykotl sky again.

But she also awoke feeling worse. There was something in her - she sort of wanted to compare it to the fire from a season or two ago, that incredible internal heat that she couldn't get rid of. Only it was a million times worse. She wanted to... she didn't know what she wanted, but her hands remained in tight fists by her side, and her nails bit into her palms. Fighting this urge, whatever it was.

It was overpowering. The girl moved to her desk, then paused, feeling a hunger for something other than the leftovers of her dinner the night before. It wasn't that she couldn't eat, but her mind raged on other things, things she didn't quite to acknowledge, so left as unknown mysteries.

Perhaps she would forget this strange craving if she went out and read a few fortunes. At the very least, Ionu would help her out. Possessions were gathered quickly: the shapeless but comfortable linen robes, the armband on the highest unsleeved arm, a stick of kohl for later, the cards, her scimitar.

Then she was swept outside, eager to breath fresh air and to rid herself of these thoughts. But she moved into the street, the bustle of a morning becoming busy, her hopes were shattered.

The thoughts were only amplified with the smell of sweat on these animals around her.

Animals? The girl recoiled back. Her mouth tasted like blood. What had happened to her? All she wanted was to slap someone, kick them, bite and spit and scratch and show them she wasn't weak. No, not that. She wanted them to hurt. Badly. She wanted them to writhe in pain and agony, and for her, the powerful divine Eypharian, to stand above them, and cause this pain.

"Priskil, what have they done to me?" she screeched in Arumenic into the air, falling into a panic at her thoughts. These were thoughts of animals and beasts and monsters. She was civilized. Beyond this.

Wasn't she?

One arm was pushed sharply by another woman who had moved into her by accident. Another moved in response, swinging her blade over her head and at the last moment, shifting it so it didn't hit her.

It was impossible to fight this urge though. She needed to hit her or Nephti would burst.

As a third hand held the armed hand back - why had she brought this with her? - two more jutted out, shoving her as hard as she could. Maybe she'd trip and smash her head against - what was she thinking?

The girl had gone mad with bloodthirst, and she couldn't even explain it. Her gilded arms trembled, and her long hair, slightly matted from the madness that had overcome her and the speed she had left her room, fell across her eyes, hiding her disgrace from the world. She couldn't be seen like this. She just couldn't.

Because she still wanted to hurt her.
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Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Penny Noor on November 7th, 2017, 10:37 pm

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There was something strange in the air. As seasons of alvadas moved steadily on the air became polarised with something unruly. Penny didn’t want to admit this but s he could feel the unease in the collective conscious of the city. Something unspoken lingering in the air, feeding off the citizens like a leach.

She had been heading out less and less often as the days turned colder, spending far more time locked away in her flat working on commissions and curled up by the fire with Lopi, than sampling the outside air. A once vivacious and adventurous girl, now introverted like a hermit. That day however she couldn't put off grocery shopping anymore. There's only so long an artist can go without food before their back gives into the ache and their hands no longer cooperate.

And so clad in her usual grey and black she headed out into the street, locking the door behind her, slinging an empty, ragged backpack over her shoulder. Barely had she the chance to take a few steps over the threshold when a stranger bumped her shoulder. Out of politeness Penny turned around almost instantly, a brief ‘I’m sorry’ just at the end of her tongue. But it was not to leave her lips in time.

“What, by the grace of Ionu…?!”

Time seemed to slow down in Penny’s head as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her body responded to the Eypharian swinging a short over her head, slicing a few stray hairs off the top, before her brain had the chance to. Eyes wide open. Tears sparkling around her lashes as she took a few large, abrupt leaps back, rooting her feet into the ground in an offensive stance like a cat that’s been startled and about to lash out. Her right hand already pulling up her skirts to pull out a short sword, holding it in front of her.

“Who are you!? What do you want!? Answer me!” she screamed, tossing her bag back by her door so that her hands were free should she need to defend herself. She prayed that the listeners were listening. She prayed that the watchers were watching and that the physician's name would be sang from the tower tomorrow morning for she had no time to be making enemies. She had no intention of it.

Of course Penny didn't want a confrontation. Of course she didn’t but if the girl was to attack her again, she’d reply with tit for tat.
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Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Nephti on November 12th, 2017, 7:16 pm

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The woman gave words of shock, calling on Ionu's name, and Nephti felt sick with pleasure. Her body revolted as it rejoiced, and the poor Eypharian couldn't tell what to feel. Everything about this was wrong, her deeper conscience screamed at her, but at the same time, her mind took pleasure in the look in the woman's eyes.

Thankfully - or annoyingly - the woman was quick on her feet, with a sword drawn in response. Did she feel this too?

The screams that followed seemed to contradict that thought - the short haired brunette had no idea what was going. She wasn't the only one. Nephti couldn't understand any of it either. She shook, and tried to figure out what was happening.

"I am Nephti." Her voice came out strong, but also faltering, as if she wasn't certain that she wanted to say it. She was identifying herself to all those nearby, all who could see this terrible crime she was committing, all that could see her madness. But she wanted to be punished for this. If she enjoyed it, doubly so.

This wasn't right. Why did she feel this way?

"I am Nephti, of Priskil," she said, even more firmly, "And I am so sorry. I..." The girl, tears flooding to her eyes, dropped her weapon, letting the scimitar made a comforting clunk against the ground, before stepping forward, arms outstretched as if in innocence.

But as soon as she got closer, she felt the urge to hurt her again. "And you... I thought vermin like you is not allowed in Alvadas?"

Her hand clamped her mouth immediately, surprised by the words that had come out of her mouth. She couldn't have said that. It was... horrible. But it had felt so good. And the Eypharian just wanted to add some more insults to it.

Racial slurs came to mind. Anything poking fun of the fact that this woman was of a lesser racer. Untouched by gods. Lacking the natural beauty and finesse of the woman from her home city. There were a millions ways Nephti could think of of pointing out her inadequacy, and worse, ways she wanted to show her. And that was before she could get closer - images flashed in her mind, ones she didn't want to see. Even simple urges - to kick and pinch and shove - were almost impossible to fight.

Perhaps her show of regret now would get the woman's guard down, so she could do some real harm.
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Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Penny Noor on November 12th, 2017, 8:05 pm

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The tears and the apology seemed so sincere that Penny’s heart broke for the girl. She almost sheathed her sword… ALMOST.

"And you... I thought vermin like you is not allowed in Alvadas?"

Vermin like her?! As quickly as it same, so soon did her sympathies leave her as her teeth clenched, her eyes narrowed and her stance became more that of battle than of conversation; feed spread wide, strength in her base and her core, just as Loken had taught her so many moons ago. Even her back straightened as she no longer resembled that plain peasant girl in grey dresses but the prowess of a woman who took no nonsense of this sort.

Vermin liker her?!! How dare that girl say those words. They churned and churned over and over in her mind, stinging at her soul. But Penny did know her own value. She had thought herself far too precious a life, far too talented and interesting to let those words to do any real harm to her ego, surely. And so what that the Eypharian think lowly of humans? SHE was the outsider, not Penny whose very blood was that of the city itself. Surely she couldn't let her feelings be hurt with pettiness - she was hurt a little.

VERMIN LIKE HER! Penny’s blood boiled. How rude? How very very rude and uncalled for. If she had wronged the girl somehow than perhaps Penny would have been more lenient.

Her sword arm outstretched, lengthened only by the weapon. The sharp tip glared at the stranger ominously, daringly. “Vermin like me eh…?” she hissed venomously, surprising even herself how much malice could drip from her tongue. She hated that she had let the other get under her skin. “Nephti, of Priskil… shame on you for using the good goddess’ name in your own title. Shame.”

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Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Nephti on November 13th, 2017, 10:18 pm

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oocIt's Loken!

The shot met its mark and the girl let the calming effect of the clenched, battle-field stance rush over her. A smile twitched on her lips, but she forced herself not to let it show, because if she let it show, the woman might think she was enjoying this.

Perhaps she was finding pleasure in this cruelty. But she was also aware that it was wrong and terrible and that wasn't acceptable. She couldn't smile at this.

The woman before her was getting angry. Her back straightened, and Nephti began to fear she had taken it too far. Who cared how satisfying it was to hurt this random stranger? Not even considering the fact that it was wrong in the first place - she was messing with someone who she didn't know. Perhaps the woman was a trained fighter and killer. Perhaps if someone took it too far with her, she'd strike. The way she stood betrayed some knowledge, even if it was just in the stance before a fight.

The weapon moved closer, and Nephti back, inching towards her own aware of the damage a curved blade could do against flesh, if she could hit it. While blood ran in her mind, the blood in her veins froze at the close proximity to another blade. She had to be careful. Nephti was still young and useless, and this person had a weapon.

It didn't stop the desire to hurt her, though.

Still, there were things to distract her from those thoughts. The reply to Nephti's introduction came dripping with venom far stronger than of any Dhani, and the girl felt infuriated by it. While the taunting remark made the desire to make the other woman feel pain even stronger, it reminded her of what she was. What she fought for.

Stronger than making this woman hurt was her love for Priskil. And she needed to prove to this stranger that she wasn't using the name for no reason.

"Shame?" she spoke, breathy voice and arms that clamped to her side so they didn't do anything. Finally, she extended one - it wasn't hard to miss the gnosis, which she let glow slightly, hoping the light would dispel her thoughts. "Priskil not think so. She marked me. Not you." She'd be able to feel it, if the other woman was marked. "Priskil is my friend, see?"

And Priskil would never hurt the innocent, no matter how deeply she wanted to inside. "Help me." She hadn't expected those words. Not to a stranger. But she needed help, and needed help now. "I want to hurt you. Anyone. I do not understand. It is hard to fight. I really want it... Stop me. Please. Please stop me."

Before she did any real harm.
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Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Penny Noor on November 15th, 2017, 9:12 am

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Penny recognised the gnosis mark immediately. Whilst she had not seen anyone marked by Priskil before she had known others, she had studied them, she had read countless books in the library of those who walked the paths of gods. She hopes to one day join those ranks. To stand tall in the name of Ionu…

"Help me."

What was this trickery. Just for a moment Penny blamed Alvadas itself for allthis confusion, thinking the girl to be a trick of the mind. But that thought was quickly discarded as ridiculous. And so the only other option…

Upon seeing the gnosis mark, Penny had no other doubts of the girl’s pure heart and that whatever she was doing, whatever was going on with her head, was no lie. That she wasn’t a malicious murderer or a mad woman. None such creature would ever gain the favour of the goddess to such an extent. And by her reverence to Priskil she knew she could turn to blind eye to the woman in need.

“How!?” she cried, desperation in her voice as she still kept a safe distance. One could never be too careful. “How do I help?”

Penny’s mind drew a blank. SHe had no idea what this strange illness was nevermind how to cure it. Could she use a herb or a potion? Did she need restraining til the virus passed on it’s own accord? But Penny had no rop with her. Now was a good a time as any for divine intervention and so Penny said a silent prayer in her mind, willing as hard as she could for the gods and goddesses she revered so to grant her strength, grant her knowledge of what to do for her only hope lay with the other girl. She hopes Nephti could make some sense of the situation.

Penny flipped her short sword hilt side forward in her hand, not sheathing it just yet for if the other’s words were true than she had to take every precaution to keep herself safe too. But neither did she want to threaten her. For if the claims were true than her current predicament was no fault of her own, Penny was certain of such.

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Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Nephti on November 26th, 2017, 9:25 pm

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The woman's response was overflowing with caution and desperation, mirroring what Nephti herself felt, and the girl understood her fully. The Eypharian had launched at her, with a blade too, not just with shoves and pokes, and the overwhelming hunger inside her still refused to sate itself. She couldn't control this, and clearly, this woman sensed it too.

She wasn't going to risk herself for a stranger, even a stranger who was marked by the goddess of hope and light. Nephti could understand that. Why risk yourself from someone you couldn't trust? Who had given you plenty of reasons to simply run?

"I do not know how..." she trailed off, unsure herself. Whatever this was, inside her, it wasn't natural, and she had no clue whether it could be stopped, or if it would go away by itself, or if she was forced to spend the rest of her life with this pain.

For now though? "Stop me." How, she didn't know, and she wasn't certain if she wanted to specify. Anything, anything necessary, before she couldn't control herself any more. The light from the gnosis was giving her the strength to fight it now, but she had no clue how long that would last, either.

She seemed to know nothing.

An idea came to her, although it flooded her with memories from her past, ones she wasn't happy with remembering. "Manacles." Although who would have them? This woman wasn't a slaver, and there weren't many in Alvadas, despite her experiences. "Maybe, with rope?" It was by no means the most pleasant, or elegant solution, and if the woman managed to come up with anything else, she would agree, instantly. But it was the best she could do, and if someone managed to restrain her, and got her back in her room, away from the people she wanted to hurt...

She'd be endlessly grateful.



oocSorry for this being so short! I just spent too long thinking and needed to get a reply out before I never did!
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Stabbing with Sickness

Postby Penny Noor on December 4th, 2017, 11:04 am

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Penny’s lip dropped. Rope… did she look like someone who’d carry hiking gear around with them? She looked around praying to Ionu as hard as she possibly could to send her a miracle. A rain of rope would be ideal right about now. But no matter how hard she gritted her teeth, her god didn’t answer.

“Right.” she spoke half to Nephti but truly half to herself. “Rope, rope, rope.” she muttered. With every second she believed more and more that Nehti had no intention of actually hurting her. This ordeal was just a cruel twist of fate neither of them could explain but then again, this was Alvadas after all. Stranger things have happened - that seemed to be her every day mantra.

Penny rummaged through her backpack but found nothing to help. Tossing it to the side she gritted her teeth. The only possible solution she could come up with was not going to be a pleasant one for her, but possibly any man that might pass them by.

Her lungs inflated with one last deep breath of unfathomable stress before she gritted her teeth and metaphorically bit the bullet. This was it - the problem solving skills of an artist employed at their greatest extent. She wielded her short sword like a carving knife and with a quick goodbye to her everyday dress she plunged it right though the fabric that the other hand held outstretched. She was going to miss this grey dress but necessity is the mother of invention.

With a few quick motions she sliced the long skirt off and tore it into long strips. Giving it a pull to satisfy that the fabric could take extensive tension she looked to Nephti once more. “Is this good enough? Coss that’s all I got.” the urgency in her voice was clear, her hands were shaking.

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