A way with death (pt 2)

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Savis Maren on November 30th, 2018, 8:38 pm

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Savis Maren did not know this being, nor did she know what he was. With more time to take a look at him, he seemed off, his features marred with a feral quality to them that she'd not yet seen in even the most savage of humans. She took note of the expression he wore, the wicked smirk coated in eagerness for inflicting pain and suffering on others. In truth, the fact of his expression made the Nuit harken to the early days of her arrival within Lhavit. Savis' entry into the city was not without its hiccups, with her being taken in by the Shinya and set before the Constellation, Talora herself. Of course, Savis Maren did not wear such visages that told of the darkness within, and she'd secured her survival within Lhavit with words of candor. That same candor infested into her vernacular now. Regardless of her alliances, Savis Maren did not care for this specter who possessed the gall to berate her so flippantly.

It might even be sweet to see this savage do what I couldn't, to injure this ghost and provide unto him a solid grasp of humility.

There was no fear in the silver eyes of the undead. If Rostam intended to injure her, he'd have done so without a moment's hesitation. No, this beast's streak of cruelty was reserved for the ghost and the ghost alone, bound to unleash upon those whose existence was of no consequence to the city. Clearly, Rostam had quite a bit to lose, a station and a life that created four walls that were his very own to do with as he pleased. The Nuit took note of it all, listening to the brutish man as he turned that hellish smile towards the pinned and injured ghost set against the wall.

The ghost then spoke, and what words they were. The Konti was clearly important to the savage Spiritist, and malice bled into words before again terrible, djed-infused force bled into his motions. Savis felt the unease of djed manipulation, and couldn't help herself. It seemed the savage was far too engrossed in toying with Jomi and his statement towards her was clearly rhetorical. In the moment, the Nuit's presence seemed irrelevant, for Rostam's ire wasn't meant for her. Jomi threatened Savis into joining him on this excursion, and she was more than happy to watch him suffer for it. Djed welled into the Nuit's silvery gaze as she called upon the power of the soul. She wove the power into her eyes, the pale hues shimmering with the catch of magic within them.

What she saw before her was quite the spectacle. Jomi and Rostam shared the same body in the moment, that much was apparent without Auristics. What the magic did clue her into, however, was much more relevant. Spirit and Spiritist waged war within that Myrian's body, one presence clearly in dominion of the other and it was apparent by the powerful, breathing aura overwhelming a withered, inert one that the Spiritist was making short work of Jomi. He encased him in some sort of barrier.

Is he trapping him? she wondered, rooted to the spot before the situation unfolded in full and Jomi was released from the carnal prison. The Nuit was confused beyond measure, the proceeding of events far too quick for her mind to process. She'd learned very little of Spiritism, with the barest flickers of insight provided by Madeira Craven. When Jomi spoke again, it seemed he was withering away, a shell of the solid presence he'd been scarcely a bell before.

Do ghosts tire? Can the dead die? she wondered, still curious as to the differences between her soul and the decayed one that encompassed the entirety of Jomi's being. Djed faded from Savis' eyes as she released the hold on Auristic sight she placed. She shifted her sight to catch Rostam in his entirety. The Myrian and the ghost both seemed exhausted, and Savis considered it safe to speak, bemused at the unfolding of events despite the dangers they presented to her and the spirit that forced her into this.

"Madeira is too delicate for such carnage," she agreed. Besides, she'd spoken to the woman just bells before, and heavily pregnant as she was, speaking for quite a while, musing on the happenings about well into the evening... There was simply no logic in assuming her capable of anything but rest after.

"You've seen her, haven't you? A tiny woman like that, swollen like a balloon from pregnancy. Even the feeblest of creatures could fight her off at that point. Surely, someone as knowledgeable as you, Rostam, could see that," she assured him. The moment called for flattery, to appeal to the savage's sensibilities. Though the Nuit wasn't so talented as Madeira Craven at this sort of endeavor, she hoped the logic of her words might aid their impact.

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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Jomi on November 30th, 2018, 11:49 pm

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"


"You've seen her, haven't you? A tiny woman like that, swollen like a balloon from pregnancy. Even the feeblest of creatures could fight her off at that point. Surely, someone as knowledgeable as you, Rothsam, could see that,"

Thick, dark lips pulled back into a snarl of disgust as Rothsam looked up at the Nuit, clearly unimpressed. Having been born and bred in the jungles of Falyndar had given the Myrian an immunity to flattery that the more well off, highborn citizenry lacked. However, the truth of her words had a sharper bite.

"Her pet can." Rothsam shifted back in his chair arms crossed and defiant while Jomi clenched his fist and fought the urge to backhand the spiritist. He was starting to think the Myrian never needed convincing, he just wanted someone to blame and direct his anger towards. "The dog she keeps around, he's more than capable. And I'm sure you're aware of the many uses of the dead, Savis."

The room temperature dropped several degrees and the ghosts agitated mists spun chaotically around his form as the Spiritist dropped a name he shouldn't know. Rothsam shot a sharp humourless grin at the ghost, he enjoyed watching the spirit squirm. "Stop trying to fight us we're on the same side wether you like it or not." The ghost was barely more than a shadow with features as he hovered beside the undead woman. Having spent too much energy to fully materialize. "And if you won't help, I guess we'll have to avenge your friends death without you."

Turning on his heel the ghost sighed mightily, although no air left his body, and walked slowly towards the door.

"Lets go, Corpse. Leave the man to his grief."

The ghost's pitiable acting skills earned little more than a half hearted eye roll and a snarl from the pigheaded Spiritist. "You think your hot shyke don't you? Coming into my home, asking question about something you should've left well enough alone. I should have you both dusted and buried in the dirt where you should've stayed. Doubt anyone would mind." He wasn't moved by the spirits bluff, but it was clear to him that the duo were going to continue their search regardless of his wishes. And the thought of sitting back while his rivals investigated the death of a friend irked the Myrian greatly.

"She had no enemies." Rothsams voice was hard, teeth clenched tightly as the words filtered past his animalistic teeth. "Not that I knew of. I couldn't tell you anyone who'd want her dead."

Jomi's head was spinning with Rothsam's sudden pivot, his brows pinched together quizzically as the ghost drifted back. He wasn't about to let this sudden willingness to cooperate go to waste.

"Is there anyone else that she was close too that might know more? Friend, family, neighbours?"

Rothsam shrugged, the movement causing his chair to groan in protest beneath his heavy frame. "She's got no family, she's out traveling on her own. Can't say I know any of her friends either." A long pregnant pause stretched between the trio as the Myrians thick brows knitted together in intense thought. "She did mention a human she'd met at the Solar Wind Apartments, Fletcher, he was a janitor there or something. He helped S'kala when she first moved to the city, creepy petcher."

Jomi was ready to claw his eyes out in frustration. He had brought the undead to the home of a spiritist to be stabbed and threatened for what? A name of someone that might know something more then just the dead woman's name and address.

"Alright, I think its time to go." The ghost turned, tired and defeated, to Savis. "Unless you have anything else you want to know I think we're better off at the Library."

"Here."

The ghost turned on his heel just in time to see the a soft blue light before the handful of soulmist hit his face. The etherial concoction wove into the exhausted ghosts form. Making his features more caporeal and his soulmist more dense as a wave of euphoria washed over the undead soul.

"You'll pay me back later." Rothsam stated, still seated in his chair and holding an empty waterskin in his lap.

Jomi nodded curtly, thankful for the newfound energy, and rightly terrified of what it would cost him. "You said that man at the Solar Wind was creepy, what did you mean?"

"I've never seen him blink."

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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Savis Maren on December 12th, 2018, 7:07 am

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Savis Maren did not take well to flattery. Praising another, particularly one so hideous and off-putting as the Spiritist Rostam nearly caused the Nuit to wretch with distaste. However, she kept her revile to herself and kept her tongue in line when the brutish creature uttered her name without Savis ever introducing herself. She narrowed her silver eyes at the utterance, listening for the signs of humanity that crept into the savage's tone. Regardless of which cesspool the Myrian crawled out into the world from, it seemed he at the very least possessed the emotional depth of a reasonable being. Savis felt the cold that blanketed the Spiritist's aura. The chill within the soul that arose and encompassed. The Nuit came to associate the feeling with sadness, though in this moment it was logically grief that thrust itself into the Myrian's soul.

Savis Maren did not rise to the jiber of calling her name out of shock, instead she listened as he turned on the ghost next, and the pair of them engaged in a discussion that merited inquiry. Jomi and Rostam seemed to speak with a degree of familarity, something that perhaps eluded to more than just a passing glance between them. A relationship of some sort? It raised more than a few questions for the Nuit, but she didn't consider it the opportune moment for her to interrogate the savage. Surely, his brutish self possessed the inclination for self-preservation, but his temperament wasn't trustworthy enough to test.

Savis hissed lowly at the spirit as he called her that detestable word again. Corpse. The sound of it alone drove her to the lows of loathing, both for herself and the despicable creature who continued to utter it. More and more, Savis Maren hungered for that horrible spirit's suffering, for the savage to drive further and further into his being those strange weapons coated with a material capable of wounding it. It's too much to ask for, she realized, for Rostam stayed his hand even when the ethereal being mocked the Spiritist's inaction and taunted him with the intent of uncovering information.

But, somehow, it worked. Perhaps Rostam tired of their presence, or he found the Nuit and the spirit more likely to discover the truth. Regardless of what it was, Rostam told them what they wanted to hear, and Jomi capitalized on the opportunity. The Nuit, as she listened to their exchange, felt her temper simmer, evaporating into nothingness as the chill that exuded from Rostam warmed into neutrality and Savis Maren came to the conclusion that she'd learn no more from the indulgence. When she detached herself from the understanding of Rostam's aura, she felt a daze set about her. The sudden shift of focus from Rostam to the information he gave them caused her balance to shift. She leaned forward before catching herself, disguising the motion as a nod of her head in an effort to normalize her lapse.

In that moment, Rostam stepped forward and struck the ghost's visage again. However, instead of a violent scream and a damaging strike, it seemed the spirit re-vitalized, growing more and more solid in seeming. Did Rostam replenish his unliving djed? It raised more questions for the Nuit in regard to the nature of ghosts, but she refused to ask it about what it was and why it insisted on her presence,

"I've never seen him blink," Rostam said, shifting Savis again from her utter disdain for Jomi and re-focused her on the situation at large.

"Fletcher? I can't say that I recognize the name," she mused. The Nuit lived at the Solar Wind Apartments, though she'd spent more and more of her time away from there between her private studies in the Bharani Library and her musings in Infinity Manor. The lead was one the Nuit wished to pursue, but it made more sense to travel to the Library, first. Savis turned to leave, and didn't wait for the ghost to join her. Leaving the savage behind, the Nuit allowed herself to focus entirely on the task at hand. For all the Nuit disliked Silvya Toha, she was a competent guide.
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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Jomi on December 21st, 2018, 6:49 am

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"


"Fletcher? I can't say that I recognize the name."

The Nuit turned on her heels and strode from the shop with a purposeful, and somewhat stiff, gait. The ghost cast one last lingering look on the spiritist. The Myrian's heavily tattooed shoulders and head were hunched over in his chair with his elbows on his knees, no longer bothering to hold the facade and posture for his guests. A rare glimpse of vulnerability in the normally arrogant, hot headed spiritist. Now he truly looked like a broken man.

The ghosts mouth worked for a tick as he tried in vain to think of something to say. Was he suppose to console him? Chew him out for the unwarranted hostility the spiritist inflicted on him? Should he just leave? The ghost knew too well the affect that grief has on the soul, the pain and guilt that eats away at the mind and transforms even the most gentle of souls into a hollow shell of what they once were.

A tick passed before the ghost turned to the door, allowing Rothsam a shred of privacy.

"S'kala wouldn't want you to sulk."

With the last parting words Jomi blinked out of the room and into the bright bustling streets, startling the citizens with his sudden materialization. The ghost tried in vain to shield his eyes with his transparent arm as the morning sun shone down gloriously onto the ornately designed city. Reflecting off the windows and crystals, making the city itself look as if it radiated its own light which was directed with laser precision right into his face. The ghost snarled at the city as he shook off the momentary blindness, adjusted eyes casting about for Savis.

The Nuit hadn't paused in her departure, already a city block ahead as the ghost blinked his way towards her.

"Seems you're actually capable of hauling ass when you want to." The ghost grumbled as he materialized beside the undead woman and moved his legs to match her pace.

The ghost drew his soulmist closer to his core. The newfound energy borrowed from the spiritist aided him as the ghost zeroed in his concentration on the outer edges of his etherial shroud. Folding the straying ribbons of mist inwards to fill out his form.

"You're a mage so I'd recon you'd be familiar with the Bharani Library. What exactly do you plan on searching for?" The ghost raised a newly opaque brow quizzically at the Nuit. "I don't doubt your research skills but I'd doubt they'ed have a 'stealthy city hunting man-eaters and where to find them' section."

Jomi was never one for scholarly pursuits, and at two decades old he still didn't know how to read, making libraries and books as useful to him as the paper they were printed on. Which was exactly why he needed the Nuit, although he'd rather chew off his own arm than admit that weakness to the undead woman.

Jomi kept his steps light and body loose as he floated alongside Savis but his face was grim and dark, betraying his troubled mind. The Shinya had already started their investigation and had likely pointed out Madeira and Allister as the most obvious suspects. And all the ghost and Nuit had so far was more questions.

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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Savis Maren on December 31st, 2018, 4:20 am

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Savis Maren was disgusted with herself. Not for the fact that she'd volunteered Jomi as some sort of stress toy for Rostam, but for the fact that she'd allowed herself to become involved in this disaster in the first place. Jomi's idea to visit Rostam on a budding familiarity with the mangled corpse radiated trouble. Though the Nuit didn't know Rostam before this, she had a very good idea of what he was afterward. Their endeavor was destined to fail from the start. There was simply no way this vicious, pitiable creature would've been able to help them. At least, no way that either of them could've hoped to engineer a situation where his insights would be useful. The effort was fruitless, and that was the reason Savis Maren didn't look back. Instead, she retreated from the Den of the Lost, licking the wounds to her pride as the ghost caught up with her.

"Seems you're actually capable of hauling ass when you want to," he noted, his voice rumbling from his throat. The tone Jomi took was grumbling in nature, and he seemed to betray some sort of reluctant acceptance of the situation as it was. Savis, on the other hand, was furious. Immediately, she turned on the ghost, her silver eyes narrow and cold as she said,

"And it seems that despite your unwillingness to die yourself, you have the uncanny habit of throwing others into danger. You're a fool, Jomi," she hissed his now learned name before turning away from the ghost and continuing on the path to the library. She was sorely tempted to leave, but she did not. The Nuit was nothing if not committed, and she'd been pulled into this futile cause. At the very least, she'd see every lead through to their inevitable conclusion, even if she knew it was folly to do so.

Then, the specter had the audacity to question the only lead they had left. His voice was grating to her, her silver eyes set on the being who grew more and more solid by the moment. Had Rostam supplied him with some sort of replenishment for his consumed djed? Did ghosts even have djed? The question arose again and again as the specter moved between some semblance of flesh and the wisps of the ethereal, but she refused to ask the unruly ghost.

"If you have other ideas in mind, by all means, pursue them on your own, curr. I have no reason to repeat myself if you're present to hear my pursuits when I express them to the Seekers," she added. Savis Maren's expressions often did not betray the depth of her feeling, but her voice certainly did. The rage was uncontained, and she felt it wither with its expression. Satisfied with her rebuking of the ghost, it was his call whether or not he wished to follow the Nuit with no idea of what was to come.

The walk to the Bharani Library wasn't terribly long, but the silence of it on her end burned through the senses. The Nuit found her destination at last, and she pushed through the doors of the library before meeting with the Seeker at the front desk. Silvya Toha sat before them, her pale countenance creased with obvious exhaustion. She seemed to have just pulled herself out of bed and into the chair. A jacket hung on the deskchair she sat on, and her left hand rested with her thumb at the bridge of her nose with the remaining digits supporting her forehead.

"Oh, it's you. Hello," she murmured, looking over the Nuit with no lack of disdain. Savis Maren ignored the expression, looking to the staircase that led to the following level of the Bharani Library.

"Are there bestiaries available? I've come across an interesting conundrum, Silvya," she began, only to be cut off by Toha. The pale creature looked between Savis and Jomi, if the ghost remained present before she shook her head.

"You're looking for your answers in the wrong place, Savis. If you have a question about beasts, make your way to the Hunter's Guild. Surely, some of those insufferable drunks will have an answer for you if they haven't departed to do... gods only know what they partake in before their 'adventures.'"

Silvya Toha dismissed the Nuit after that, which only served to further aggravate the undead. Of course, Toha had a point. Books were scarce and perhaps those with the knowledge she was after weren't the prolific scholars her other pursuits ordinarily coincided with.

"To the Hunter's Guild, then?" she thought aloud before slinking away from the desk and out of the building. She mused privately before, if the ghost was still present, she mentioned aloud,

"There's no need to 'wing' anything. It's easy enough to identify the wounds we mentioned if it is some sort of creature that did the deed. If we mention the specifics, if someone knows the answer, it'll be made known to us."
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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Jomi on January 7th, 2019, 2:39 am

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"



The undead woman was irate and on a warpath, spewing accusations and insults with words laced with venom as she marched her way to the library. Although Jomi noticed that her face hardly showed any type of emotion her voice became hard and her words all ended with clenched teeth and a drawn out hiss. A peculiarity the ghost had only ever seen in angry women berating people in public and something Jomi had become all too familiar with since his indentured servitude to Madeira.

"And it seems that despite your unwillingness to die yourself, you have the uncanny habit of throwing others into danger."

That single syllable that escaped from the spirits lips sounded more like a mocking bark than true laughter.

"That. is. rich coming from you, grave robber."

The silence that followed the undead pair to their destination was as tangible as the stones they walked on. But the ghost stayed, imitating a human walk and keeping pace beside the Nuit.

Although Savis had made it clear that his presence was unwanted, the ghost still needed a literate mind and a solid body if he ever hoped to find the killer. He'd never be able to solve this without her help, for better or worse the ghost wasn't going anywhere, no matter how badly she wished he would. So the pair stewed silently in their own respective bitterness while the citizenry that crowded the street parted like a school of fish to let the unsettlingly quiet undead pass.

.

.

"You're looking for your answers in the wrong place, Savis. If you have a question about beasts, make your way to the Hunter's Guild."

The number of things the ghost thought of saying all at once nearly suffocated him. Still fragile and on edge since the last his last violent fuck up with a grieving spiritist, the weak minded ghost wasn't prepared to handle another setback.

"ARE YOU-"

"To the Hunter's Guild, then?"

Savis wasted no time in moving on after the pairs offhanded dismissal, fortunately cutting off the ghost before he had a chance to dig that hole any deeper. The blonde haired woman turned on her heels and marched back out the door with her clouded silver eyes hard and focused.

"There's no need to 'wing' anything. It's easy enough to identify the wounds we mentioned if it is some sort of creature that did the deed. If we mention the specifics, if someone knows the answer, it'll be made known to us."

Jomi hissed like a angry kettle as he followed the Nuit down the carved steps.

"That is a lot of 'ifs'."

The ghost stayed silent as they made their way across the wooden hanging bridge back to Sartu peak. Periodically blinking ahead down the steep paths and walkways with a nervous energy when he felt their pace was lagging. Jomi came upon the heavy oak doors of the Hunters guild first and blinked his way inside while the Nuit followed behind. The room was warm and dim, lit only by candle light and a large crackling stone fireplace that burned away the biting winds of the peak. Only a handful of older patrons ambled around the bar, laughing mightily with each other and nursing half empty mugs and pitchers even at that early hour. Jomi blew out his cheeks sharply as he scanned the room, he should've known that most of the hunters would be out stalking their prey while the nocturnal creatures were tired and ready to return to their nests and burrows.

Shaking off the stress and his rising temper the ghost concentrated on pulling his soulmist closer to his core. He wound the etherial mists together and packed them down, creating a more defined, lifelike body as he stalked towards the bar. A man with long greying hair pulled into a thick braid rested his head in the crook of his elbow facedown on the bar with his hand coiled protectively around the handle of a brass pitcher. His hair was drawn back from his face, showcasing dark calloused skin and three long thick scars that wrapped around his head, severing the tip of his right ear and disappearing under his hairline. This man had seen some shit, Jomi decided, and therefore would be likely to have the answers they needed.

The ghost slid up behind him and activated his mists. The counter force created by the soulmist in his hands brushed up against the mans jacket. Jomi pushed his activated soulmist against the inside of the leather collar and placed his materialized hand on the back of the mans neck sending an icy shock straight into his spine.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart. We've got some questions for you."

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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Savis Maren on January 8th, 2019, 10:39 pm

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Continued deprication. Savis Maren always felt the sting of hatred for her kind, imbued as bark in the tone and a reluctance to draw close. The grate of words was felt with those souls so hardened by their safety that they had no fear of expression. Silvya Toha was such a soul. And clearly, so was Jomi. The wide berth that the nuit and ghost were perpetually given only grew wider still. The whole of the paved walkways was available to Savis Maren and her spectral companion as they trudged through to the Hunter's Guild. Truly, the nuit couldn't be more thankful for it at the moment, for even with her cold, clammy, graying flesh, she felt the heat of rage build within her soul.

At the very least, Savis Maren had this over Jomi. Clearly, the ethereal being had no rest to his rage. It bubbled to the surface in the Library, and with the ghost so close to her in her approach, she reached out with the strength of her djed. It welled beneath the surface, pulsed within the depths of her soul before she wound it forth and released it. The ghost's aura was brooding and strange, tendrils of decay woven about crumbling edges. The soul before her was a pitiable thing, clearly in utter conflict and driven forth by unclear motivations. Savis Maren knew nothing of what kept the ghost bound to Mizahar and bound to the service of a powerful Spiritist, but she did know one thing.

Within Jomi, there was a great sadness. She felt the vestiges of it, and certainly the Nuit felt no pity. Her soul, like his, was hard and steadfast. She too hid beneath a layer of contempt, a layer of rage that bubbled to the surface at the slightest of provocations. The two clashed in their hatred, they lashed out at one another in their rage. But, did they share their sadness? The nuit might've reached out for the ghost, but she did not. Instead, she ignored the sympathy that sought to build within her being and let is brush by the wayside, vanished into the burning abyss of her distaste. Besides, there were other matters to consider and Savis' sympathy, unprovoked and unwanted, was likely the least effective thing to provide in the moment.

- - - -


"That's a lot of 'ifs'."

The words stayed within the nuit's mind as they traveled to the Hunter's Guild, but she hadn't bothered to answer them. He was right, of course. But, there was no further options to explore. Perhaps, if they failed, the nuit could go back to her efforts, satisfied that she'd 'tried' her best. However, that wasn't the hope she had. Savis Maren wasn't the bound and risen servant of Madeira Craven, but there was loyalty there for the Spiritist. She'd given Savis Maren a contemporary, and a home. She provided the nuit with a means of furthering her pursuits, free from the prying eyes of the public. Free from the constrained space of her apartment. And so, Savis Maren helped Jomi. Not for the ghost, but for his master.

Boisterous was the laughter and song that wound about the massive bar that encompassed the main hall of the Hunter's Guild. The ghost vanished past her, leaving the doors closed. The heavy wooden structures were pulled aside by the Nuit, who struggled far more than she should've. She heaved, slinking past once the door made a tiny space for her to slide into. The Hunter's Guild was somewhat empty, with the rising sun providing their ilk the perfect opportunity to take their prey by surprise. But, that was what the nuit hoped for. Surely there was one or two souls within, weary or just waking up from their stupors that could provide the undead with the insights she needed. Or, if not, then she could leave and be satisfied with that.

Savis watched the ghost, who was already inside and clearly up to his 'good works'. His visage scanned the room and he found an older man who rested his head against his elbow. Savis drew closer, curiosity cresting within her piercing silver eyes as she looked over his countenance. Jomi made a judgment call, and allowed a physical (???) hand to place itself directly on the hunter's neck. Then, Savis Maren saw something she didn't expect. A man she'd clearly identified as a drunk shivered powerfully, a fierce growl escaping his lips as Jomi began his oh so endearing tone. He sought to interrogate the man without endearing himself to them? Was this some sort of torture? The nuit narrowed her eyes and hissed at the ghost, placing her hands up in the air as she looked to the hunter, who stirred in an effort to rise. A hand, encircled about a pewter mug, lashed out. The mug slid out of his paw, crashing through the ghost and falling to the floor.

"Get back, specter," she began, then looked to the hunter with some measure of respect. She even bowed her head, but did not part her lips in a smile for fear of exposing herself further than her nature already did. The stench of her undeath was drowned out by the liquor, and unless a soul knew the intricacies of the nature of undeath, they might not know what she was on sight.

"Don't mind the ghost, please. He's a nuisance at best. If you don't mind, I have a question or two for you."

"Yeah? Get at it quick before I shove the next cup down your throat," the man grumbled, his reddened eyes and yellowing skin indicative of some sort of ailment. Was that why he'd stayed when others left? Or was that the physical symptoms of his intoxication?

"Certainly. I'll try to let you back to sleep as soon as possible. Is there any sort of beast that specifically targets the throat, tongue and lungs of prey? A beast that might be able to slide into the city walls?" Her questions were quick and targeted, fully intent on obeying the hunter's request. He wanted to sleep, and Savis wanted to leave.

"Errr, gotta give me a bit more than that if I'm going to answer. Did something happen?" the man asked, leaving Savis with a flicker of a moment. She looked over to the ghost, wondering if the brutish and horrid soul would blurt out an answer or try to hamper her efforts further.
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Savis Maren
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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Jomi on January 13th, 2019, 4:54 am

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"


"Get back, specter,"

Savis's face settled into a softer, more amicable expression as Jomi stepped back to allow her access to their target. Although she didn't attempt a smile, her head dipped respectfully. The thinning blonde hair of her scalp lifted with the movement as she began to work her charm.

"Don't mind the ghost, please. He's a nuisance at best. If you don't mind, I have a question or two for you."

Jomi's eyes slid between the dead woman and silver haired man. The ghost was starting to realize some striking similarities between Savis and Madeira. From their manner of speaking to the way they could switch their personality as easy as slipping on a mask. If their alliance were to continue the two of them would be able to accomplish so many amazing, horrible things.

The Nuit kept her explanation short and to the point. Tongue, throat, lungs. A very specific and incredibly unusual appetite for a very efficient murderer or the worlds pickiest carnivore. But apparently it wasn't enough.

"Errr, gotta give me a bit more than that if I'm going to answer. Did something happen?" Air hissed out off the ghost like a deflating ball as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He really hoped the Nuit wasn't about to tell a stranger about the murder, or the location where the murder happened. There were enough problems without the public weighing in on the details or the implications of that gruesome discovery.

Jomi met Savis' eye as she looked over to him. The Nuits' expression was odd. Her striking silver eyes bore into him, and the ghost, thanks to his complete inability to read the room, took the silent stare as an invitation to speak.

"We want to recruit the beast to our legion of the spiteful dead. What's it to you?"

Jomi focused his eyes on the back wall of the guild. Drawing power up from his soulcore he used the energy to activate his chaotic soulmist. Sending ribbons of the mist to extend out to the other side of the room and hook around the copper mug that had been thrown through him. He used that mist to force the mug up against the pull of gravity and drag it to the man, placing it at his elbow.

"What kind of creature kills in that very specific way and is fast enough or clever enough to not be seen and can hide in a populated city."

The ghost moved to hover behind the man and leaned over his back. The silver hairs on his neck prickled and raised with the electric chill of a ghosts materialization as Jomi pulled his soulmist inward and carved new definition into his body. The ghosts brows furrowed as he concentrated hard in order to fill in and perfect the colours and textures.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere and I don't sleep."

Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

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Jomi
One more day would have been nice
 
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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Savis Maren on January 18th, 2019, 10:59 pm

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Jomi took the room by storm, it seemed. The remaining hunters drew back in the presence of the ghost, an ethereal being who couldn't be rebuked by their weapons or prowess. Savis wondered as the specter spoke if Rostam or even Madeira might be summoned to 'take care' of him. There were so many ways his presence could exacerbate the situation, but it seemed that for the moment, nothing came of it. Instead, the elder hunter they were speaking to seemed to roar out in laughter, clearly unafraid of the ghost and quite pleased when he returned the mug to him.

He reached for the mug, drawing to a standing position and returning to the bar. He pried a bottle from the other side, tossing the mug in a sink before popping the top and gulping down several swigs before swinging his glassy gaze to the ghost with a smirk. The tender yelled over at the man, interrupting his rebuttal to Jomi, but Savis Maren intervened at that juncture. She retrieved five mizas from her coinpurse, placing them on the bar and raising her index finger to her lips. She merely shook her head before drawing close to the bartender.

"Let him be. Take this to cover the bottle and go about your business," she advised. The hunter was going deeper and deeper into his intoxication, and there was a faint glimmer of hope that Savis Maren saw in his stupor. Clearly, he had something in his back pocket, some sort of excuse for his outbursts and the Nuit had every reason to believe that he had the answers they sought after. Next, the Nuit looked to Jomi, mouthing the words, 'Shut up and let me speak,' to him before taking her place back at the table across from the hunter.

Djed welled within the Nuit's gaze as she pulled at the reservoir of the soul. It garnered within her eyes, and with it, there came a life to those silver orbs that wasn't present without the invocation of magic. Auristics fueled her sight, and when she trained her eyes on the hunter's aura, she felt the bubbling muck of liquor's snare on his mind. The Nuit pried deeper, drawing past the withered edges of his understanding and saw deeper. A burgeoning fear was from the line of questioning, and it didn't take much for the Nuit to figure that his lacking answers and boorish demeanor was owed to a dawning realization.

The monster is known to him. The monster is something to be feared.

That much was obvious, but they needed to learn more about it and this tight-lipped fool would pass out if he finished the rest of his whiskey.

"That bottle's yours. Don't worry about anything else. If you tell me what I want to know, then the ghost and I can take our leave and you can return to your sleep."

Another swig or two burned through the drunk's throat. Savis Maren detected the vestiges of that burn as the liquor crawled through his esophagus, leaving pleasured pain in its wake. She listened to the erratic heartbeat, slowed from consumption and yet heightened from fear. The poor organ seemed unsure of which example to follow. Savis Maren tasted the liquor on his breath, a swig of a substance she'd never had and an intoxicant she'd never feel. She pitied the hunter for his dependence and yet... she envied him for his ability to become dependent on such a thing at all.

The man seemed to sober for but a moment, his elbow planted on the table as he tipped his head back, at last finding his words when the Nuit's silver eyes trained directly on his own.

"All te' mouth and nose organs, hm? You're speakin' on a Wailer's kill. 'Orrble monsters theyrr." As he continued to speak, he held his temples in each hand, steadying himself and stretching his jaw to enunciate his words.

"They take on a man's face and settle inta' cities. They're impossible to pick out from a lineup unless yer some kind of godling. Smart fuckers, too. If yer describin' it without knowin' what it is... you won't see it fer a while," he answered at last. His hands seemed to twitch with his answer, his features dropping to the table before one hand shifted and he faceplanted directly into the wooden surface. Loud snores escaped his maw, but their unsteady and erratic rhythm left Savis Maren, still trained on the Hunter's aura as she listened, to believe that the hunter was attempting a ruse.

But, she was satisfied with his answer. She had nothing else to ask and thus, the nuit rose from the table, disgusted and pleased in the same unnecessary breath. "Unless you have something else to say, Jomi, we should leave and consider the man's words carefully."
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Savis Maren
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A way with death (pt 2)

Postby Jomi on January 27th, 2019, 2:09 am

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"


"All te' mouth and nose organs, hm? You're speakin' on a Wailer's kill. 'Orrble monsters theyrr."

An involuntary shiver raced up the ghosts incorporeal form. He'd heard that name before. The slaves on the plantations in Kenash use to speak of a creature by that name. A monster that took the form of a lowly peasant man and lured dull witted children from the barracks at night with the promise of sweets, and then unhinging his jaw and swallowed them whole, bones and all. But it was just a fairy tale, a story told by the elders as a warning for the young children to not go out at night.

"They take on a man's face and settle inta' cities. They're impossible to pick out from a lineup unless yer some kind of godling. Smart fuckers, too. If yer describin' it without knowin' what it is... you won't see it fer a while,"

Jomi let out a growl of fustration as his soulmist whipped about his body and curled back towards his soulcore. The ghosts body became more defined and his colours became more stark against the dark backdrop of the guild. If it was as the drunkard said then they were no longer chasing a rouge animal or a murderous human but an actual petching monster. A monster that can blend seamlessly with the general population and crack a persons ribcage open and devour their organs in minutes.

"Unless you have something else to say, Jomi, we should leave and consider the man's words carefully."

"No, I don't think there's anything for us."

Drifting to the door the ghost braced his body on the solid, heavy oak. He called up the latent energy of his soul and sent the static power out to the very ends of his mists. He gathered the energy and used its explosive force to push against the door as hard as he could. The old wood groaned in complaint as it burst open with a bang, allowing the undead to pass.

Jomi waited for the Nuit to shamble away from the open door and prying ears before he slunk up to her side. His soulmist had settled somewhat as he fought his natural temper and began to consider their next step.

"I vote we take what we know to the Shinya. Neither of us are exactly monster hunter material, and we have nothing else to go on. If we could convince them to at least look into the possibility of a monster attack..." Jomi trailed off and his shoulders slumped forward dejectedly. Presenting the Shinya with nothing but words and suspicions was sure to to get them laughed out of the building. But as far as the ghost saw it they had no other options.

"We're near the manor right? Lets head back there for a tick. If there really is a monster loose in the city I'd feel a lot better if we were armed."

Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

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One more day would have been nice
 
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