Haunted (Solo)

[Aello]

60 Spring, 511 AV Aello was sitting in the lotus position, her hands resting on her knees, palms face up towards the sky. The sun's warm, golden rays trickled down through the trees that lined the forest. Several birds chirped off in the distance, and a gentle breeze sent the leaves fluttering lightly back and forth. Yune was resting atop Aello's bag, which had been placed beside her. Aello's bow was leaning up against that. Her eyes were closed, and everything seemed so very peaceful. She was breathing evenly, deeply, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Aello repeated this process several times, before allowing herself to go a step further. Her past few inhalations had not been as deep as they could have been, and now, when the young spiritist took in a breath, she'd allow it to fill the back of her lungs. She could feel them expanding as she continued to hold in the air. A few seconds later, Aello let the air out. When she took in another breath of air, she imagined herself bringing in a light blue air. The air was warm, and had a calming effect on her. As she breathed out, she imagined a deep red mist leaving her. An agitated air; a combination of all the things she wished to be rid of. Aello repeated the process for ten minutes, until she felt as calm as ever. Her heart rate was steady, and her chest was rising and falling steadily. Slowly, she allowed herself to open her eyes, to take in everything around her. "Well that was a lovely start to the day," she whispered, as she glanced over at Yune, who was still sleeping. Deciding that she wanted Yune to rest some more, Aello figured that she would find something else to do with her time, at least, for a little while. Deciding it best to work on her magical ability for a short while, Aello gingerly pulled her bow away from her bag and placed it in front of her. She then cupped her hands, and held them on each side of Yune's sleeping form. Slowly, she slid her hands beneath the sparrow's body. When her hands bumped into each other, Aello gingerly lifted the bird off her bag, and placed her in the grass, where she hoped she would be cosy, comfy, and warm. As soon as she had set Yune down, miraculously managing not to wake the sleeping sparrow, Aello let out the breath she had not so much as realized she had been keeping in. After which point, she reached for her bag, and pulled it a little closer to her. When it was within her grasp, Aello lifted the top of the bag open, and reached inside. She rummaged around for a few moments, before pulling out two glass jars, one was empty, the other was not. She placed the jars on the ground in front of her. Time to make some more soulmist, just in case another cranky old ghost decides to rear its ugly head. Aello placed the bag back at her side as she stared at the two jars. The one that was not empty contained a few, slightly less traditional soulmist supplies, which included a few blackberries she had found while out in the wilderness, an old bread crust, and a few leaves which smelled strongly of peppermint, also something she discovered while in the forest. Aello reached for the jar, twisted the lid, and pulled it off. She then lifted the jar, and poured all the supplies into her lap. Well this will probably taste a bit better than our usual, but it will still not be too pleasant, the girl thought as she plopped the mint leaves into her mouth first, only to be followed by the berries and the bread crust. She began to chew slowly, allowing the semi-masticated mixture to roll across her tongue over and over again. Aello could taste the sour berries, the moldy edges of the bread. The mint trying to over-power everything, and freshen her breath. Well, it is better than usual, the girl thought, as she closed her eyes tightly for a moment, and sucked in her cheeks, as a sour burst of berry juice sank into her taste buds. It was a second before she opened her eyes again, and allowed her cheeks to return to normal. Well, there has to be something we can do to keep our mind off this, other than meditate of course. We have already done that... Aello looked around the clearing for a few moments, trying to come up with a few ideas as she pulled her cursed blade from concealment. We'll add the blood to the mixture, and then think of something, she thought, as she curled her right hand around the hilt of the dagger, and slid it across her left middle finger. A soft jab of pain shot through the area where Aello had made an incision, just as a thin trickle of blood poured out of her skin. The bright red seemed to glow in the light, as Aello lifted her bleeding finger to her slightly parted lips and allowed a few drops to fall inside. And here comes the nasty part, she told herself, as she put the blade back in its proper place, and lowered her hand into the grass. She wiped her bleeding finger off as she closed her mouth, and resumed chewing. The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils, causing them to flare angrily, just as the taste of it first crossed her tongue. You see Aello, this is the nasty part. Aello gave a slight nod as she continued, glancing around the clearing once more for something to do to pass the time, and keep her mind off of what she was doing. But as she looked, all the girl found was grass, tall trees whose leaves were rustling in the gentle morning breeze, several plants of all different shapes and sizes, which she recognized, but didn't know the name of. Then of course, there were her belongings, and Yune resting in the grass not so far from where she was sitting. Yune. Aello's dark brown eyes settled on the small sparrow sleeping at her side. The light brown feathers that covered her body, her tiny beak, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She listened to the strange chirping-like noise Yune made each time she breathed in and out. She simply stared. Yune seems so peaceful right now, Aello thought, as continued to stare at the bird. Within seconds, a soft blue mist could be seen swirling around Yune. The mist was similar to a baby blue in color, and would often fan out around her wings, seemingly extending them by a few inches. So she is feeling a deep sense of peace, Aello thought, as she watched the blue mist wind itself delicately around the bird's chest, as though it were a blanket protecting the bird from the harsh world outside of Nysel's own. Aello tilted her head slightly to the side. She must be having good dreams today, Aello thought, as her hair tumbled off her shoulders, and she continued to chew. Very good dreams if she has slept for this long. Perhaps then, she is dreaming about flying free, very, very far away from her crazy mistress, and all the trouble and heartbreak she must bring her. Or perhaps, she dreams of eating the very best berries in the world, with all of her favorite sparrows. Aello sighed, as her mouth began to grow cool, the soulmist would be ready soon. She took a moment to close her eyes, and when she opened them, Yune's aura had faded away. Her pupils had dilated, and she felt somewhat tired. Oh the price of magic... Aello thought as she continued to chew. Within a few minutes, her mouth had grown so cold, that it felt as though her teeth had turned to blocks of ice. It's ready, Aello thought as she reached for the glass jar that had been empty all along, and unfastened the lid. As soon as it was open, Aello lifted the jar to her lips, and began to spit out an off-white gel into the jar; soulmist. When it had all left the confines of Aello's mouth, she realized she had filled the jar just a little more than halfway. Aello smiled lightly as she closed the lid, and put the jar down for a few moments. The glass felt as cold to the touch now, as the soulmist had when it was still in her mouth. She shivered lightly, as she pulled her cursed dagger back out of concealment. She held it in her right hand, and twisted the blade by pushing on the hilt with her thumb. You know, if we rubbed soulmist into the blade, we could use it for more than simply calling the ghosts to us... we could use it to run them through should they threaten us. Aello's smile widened. Aello liked the sound of that idea. OOCAn epic conclusion to the Charles/Michael threads will eventually go here.

[Aello]

It would only take a small amount to mist to make the blade something more, Aello thought as she lifted the blade to her lips, and pressed the flat portion into her flesh. It felt so cold. Aello's nostrils flared as they took in the scent of blood, fresh and aging. It lingered on the blade, always, incapable of being wiped away, much like the memory of when it was put there in the first place. Their lifeless bodies beneath her... covered in fresh blood... still warm... Sometimes it felt like she couldn't wipe the blood off her hands either, and that they were simply, now, a pale shaking mass with crimson red raindrops falling from the ends, and over the sides like a waterfall. The girl shook her head lightly, allowing her long brown hair to twist over the blade, and lick her lips. Aello pressed the blade a little more deeply into her lips, so that they fanned out beneath it, on each side. She cast her gaze down, trying to get a better look at the hilt. You will be of greater service if only you could destroy that which you bring. Slowly, Aello pulled the blade away from her lips, until her arm rested across the length of her folded legs, and her hand just past where her knees came to an end. The blade dipped towards the earth, seemingly wishing that it would be buried there, and forgotten. That it would neither call, or create any more ghosts. "So into the mist you shall go," Aello whispered, as she lifted the blade a little higher, and brought it over to the jar of freshly-made soulmist. She dipped the bloody blade into the jar, as far as it would go. The point of the blade scraped along the bottom of the jar, sending a soft chinking sound into the air that surrounded her. She held the blade there for a minute, before taking it back out, thin streams of soulmist dripping off the tip and back into the jar, with the rest. As Aello brought the blade closer to her, she realized that her fingers were trembling slightly; turning even more pale than usual. The mist makes everything so very cold... turns all pale like a ghost... A shiver shot up the young spiritist's spine as she raised her left hand to the blade, and began to rub the soulmist across it, making sure that every portion of the blade was covered as it began to sink in. Aello's fingers trembled, "it is simply too cold," she whispered, as another shiver shot up her spine, and she pulled her hand away. Waiting, for all of the mist to sink into the blade, to make it capable of doing damage to more than those living. It will all be worth it, when you know you have some defense against them. Something more than those ghostnails we still need to test, considering what happened last time, with Karc. The mist was beginning to fade, and Aello knew it wouldn't be long before she had empowered the blade to the best of her ability. Just a little longer and it will be as dangerous as its mistress, she told herself, as she twisted the blade in her hand, rolling the hilt between her fingers, silently hoping that it would allow the mist to dry just a little faster. Aello never having been a particularly patient person and all. The mist sank into the blade within a few minutes, and Aello smiled evilly. "There we go," she whispered, "a blade that may touch all flesh." Aello's smile widened as she put the dagger back in its proper place, her eyes were beginning to sparkle. Now if only all of the arrows were the same way, she thought, as she eyed the jar with the soulmist. It won't be enough to get through half of them, she thought, but why not empower as many as she could with what little she had? Aello lifted her right arm, and began to reach for her quiver, when an icy cool breeze swept through the clearing. It blew Aello's hair off her shoulders, and allowed it to swirl back and forth, all about her, before the wind died, and everything became as it was before. But, even though the wind was gone, the girl still felt cold. She felt as though someone were watching. A chill shot up Aello's spine, and her right hand instinctually went to her thigh, so that it may rest just above the blade, ready to bring it out of concealment at any moment. "We are not alone anymore," Aello whispered, as her eyes passed back and forth over the clearing, looking for whatever may have disturbed the peace. The magic in the air.

[Aello]

It took Aello a minute to finally spot him, the ghost of Michael. Her muscles tensed, and her brow turned into a hard line. Her eyes began to blaze as she sprang to her feet. "What are you doing here?" Aello growled at him, her right hand closing around the hilt of the cursed blade before she so much as realized what she was doing. She pulled it out, and held the flat portion against her thigh, the cold metal sending several more tiny chills up her spine, as Aello bit down on her teeth, forcing herself not to make another sound until the ghost replied to her question. "Looking for you actually," Michael replied simply, a slender smile upon his pale lips. "Well you found me," Aello growled, her eyes flashing even more angrily. "Now what do you want? You must have a very good reason for showing you face after everything you have done." Michael began to smile, clearly enjoying the girl's reaction. "To apologize to you actually." Aello's eyes narrowed as her grip tightened around the hilt of the blade. Her fingers curled around it, and back towards her palm, with the exception of the thumb, which was pointed up towards the blade. It was rubbing the hilt, trying to bring a sense of calm to Aello. It was not working. Aello simply stared at Michael, until a muddied pink mist came into view. It swirled around the soft white tendrils that normally circled his body. Shrouding him in a dense fog that made it difficult to make out his features. The muddied pink and the white swirled together, forming one large, lighter pink blob. He is lying to you, that is not why he is here. There is something else on the ghost's mind, Aello's thoughts whispered in her ear, as a soft throbbing pain made its way to her temples, and her heart began to beat a little faster. "Always lying it seems," Aello called over to him. "Where you like this in life?" Aello asked. "A man with the forked tongue of a snake?" Michael ignored Aello's words. Perhaps he thought her unworthy of the truth; the answers she so desired. Perhaps, he even knew how she came to know of his deceptive nature. The magic that she employed... Aello took a step closer to Michael, who had not bothered to float a little closer to her. He simply hovered two inches above the ground, his misty aura, and the soulmist that he was made of, swirling above the ground like smoke, or the mist of newly fallen rain. "So then, if it was not to apologize, why did you come, when you knew you would not be welcomed?" Aello inquired, her voice cold. Michael didn't answer. "Surely you have a reason..." When Michael remained silent, Aello took another step a little closer. "Come on Michael, you can tell the one you have employed time and again what brings you," the young spiritist went on. "After all, we both know you are not one for silence. That your lies have not mattered to you before." The muddied pink mist seemed to rise a little higher, separating from the soulmist that surrounded the ghost. It wound its way around Michael's neck, settling there, and waiting to strike. Aello wished the magic away, as the dull throbbing in her temples grew stronger. Within a minute, the pinks had left, and all that remained was the white; the cold. Aello took another step closer, as the ghost spoke. "We have things to discuss," he said simply. Aello's right brow raised into an arc that matched the shape of her bow. "About?" she inquired. "Many things," was all Michael said, as Aello moved even closer, so that she was only standing a few feet away from him. When he said nothing further, Aello's brow returned to its normal state. "If you cannot answer, you don't deserve to speak," Aello whispered into the wind, as a chill shot up her spine. What could he possibly want from you now? When you have done all that he has asked of you? There was a slight pause, when you have stained your hands with the blood of those he despised? When it still drips off the tips of your fingers, and makes its way beneath your nails? When it still stains the blade that destroyed him? What more could he want of you? How much more innocent blood must be drawn on his behalf? Aello crept even closer, so that she was no longer standing more than a foot away from where Michael hovered. "Since you don't deserve to be heard, you should leave. You have no business here, with a spiritist," she whispered, her anger beginning to subside. But only a little. "I have every right to speak to you. To explain," Michael replied, his voice as icy as Aello's own. "No, you do not," Aello replied simply. "Especially when your intention was to lie." Michael simply smiled, had he been caught in the act? Had Aello finally figured out his little game? That she was merely the pawn in his grand game of chess?

[Aello]

How does one get the deceptive to speak the truth? Aello wondered, as her eyes lingered on those of the ghost. Or at least, make them go away until they are ready to speak the truth? "There was no lie," Michael said. "That, in itself, is a lie," Aello replied, her anger beginning to return. There was a flash, as Aello rapidly brought her arm upwards. The dagger, for once, had not been pointing towards her. Instead, it had faced the ghost, and thus, when she raised it, and thrust it forward, the blade lodged itself in Michael's chest. She pushed it as deep as it would go, to the end of the blade, where it met the hilt. Michael's eyes grew wide, as a pale white mist began billowing out of the incision Aello had made in his chest. He howled in pain, as Aello began to scream herself. The mist that she had shed spilled out and onto her hand, making the hilt of the blade cold; her flesh cold. Like Michael. Like the mist. Like his heart... Like death itself... Aello's hand seemed frozen in place; glued to the hilt as they simply stood, screaming together; their voices swirling around one another's. They were strengthening each other as they soared towards the sky, startling several birds out of the trees and into the air. Sending several animals into their burrows, to hide until it had all ended. As Aello continued to scream, her heart pounded in her tiny rib cage, and the tiny beads of sweat that had been trickling down her face froze. Her throat grew dry, and soon, she could scream no longer. Soon, her right hand had grown so cold, that she could no longer hold on. Her fingers peeled off the hilt of the blade, as she stumbled away from Michael, and he floated away from her. Aello looked down at her hand. It was paler than before, and a deep purple was making its way in around the edges of her fingers. Her nails were blue, and it looked sickly, like the flesh of an Akalak and not a human. "What have you done?" they growled at each other, at the same time. Aello's eyes darting up to the blade that was still lodged in the center of the ghost's chest, much like his eyes were stuck on it. His hands trying to close around the hilt and pull it out, but simply sliding through, like the cursed blade was not there at all. Soulmist continued to pour out of the wound as they both stared at it, in silence. The ghost more than likely in too much shock to continue screaming. Maybe that is what he requires to speak, Aello thought, as she said, "simply that which you deserved." The ghost looked up at her with eyes that seemed to beg, remove it from me. Remove it, and you will have your answers. But Aello did not trust them; she didn't trust him. "Now that we have loosened your tongue, do you wish to answer the question: why?" "Why what?" Michael asked, as he winced, and then bit on his bottom lip to keep from screaming. "Why you have tormented someone who merely tried to help you?" Aello growled. "Why you have lied to her time and time again? Why you had an innocent man killed? Why you tried to kill him yourself but failed?" "You already know all of that," Michael replied. Aello growled. That was not what she had wanted to hear... Hesitatingly, Aello crept forward, and reached for the blade with her left hand. Her fingers curled around the hilt; it felt so cold... But she ignored, it, and slowly twisted the blade in the man's chest. "Answer me!" she howled, as the ghost screamed with newfound pain. "Now!" she growled, as the edges of her cheeks grew red with anger. "No," was all Michael said. Aello grew silent as she twisted the blade even further, and she listened to him scream. It's funny how the blade that killed him in life is finding him even in death. Torturing him. Too bad it can't rid him of his life once more... shed more than mist... shed something warm, and red. Blood. "Have you had enough yet?" Aello asked with a sneer. The ghost shook his head through his screams. Aello pushed the blade a little harder, and twisted it some more. She could see it turning in his pale chest. She could see the silver glow a pale grey through the white. See the blood seem to fade. "Now?" Aello asked. The ghost shook his head again. Aello growled. "When will it be enough?" she hissed. "How much more pain does one need to inflict? How much more do you want to scream?" Aello asked. "After all, there is a soulmist left... it would only take a moment to coat the arrows in my quiver. Only another few seconds to shoot you with them, and create more pain. You will not last ghost, against a spiritist." There was a slight pause, and when Aello spoke again, her voice had gained some strength, it was even colder than before. "You used me, and now you shall pay for your actions. Do as you are told, and you may escape with slightly less pain. After all, you can't win against a spirtist. They will find you... torture you, make you wish you could die again to simply escape it all." Aello's eyes flashed menacingly as she gave the blade a little twist. Michael winced. "Now you wouldn't want to experience that now would you?" Aello asked, her voice icy yet playful. Reluctantly, Michael shook his head. "Didn't think so," Aello went on. "Now, are you going to do as you are told?" Michael shook his head again, before a small smile crossed his lips. Now what is that all about? He has a dagger lodged in the center of his chest. Aello thought, as she pulled her left hand off the dagger, not realizing how cold it had gotten. That each of her fingers were trembling, and turning blue with the mist that spilled onto them. "No, our business is done, it is time to return to the cycle," Michael said, before he burst into several tiny golden sparkles that danced in the sunlight as it trickled through the trees; and was gone. "No..." Aello said breathlessly as her dagger fell to the ground, a tiny spec of soulmist dripping off the tip and onto the grass. "No...." OOCPoor Aello, always getting her butt kicked by ghosts. And never getting her answers. Petching ghosts.

[Verilian]

Aello +1 Meditation +3 Spritism +2 Auristics +2 Dagger +2 Interrogation You Question My Logic? : If you have any questions or feel I missed something, send me a PM. Lores: Creating a Better Soulmist, Applying Soulmist to an Object, The End of Michael, Seeing a Ghost Move On, Questions Unanswered Notes: Days later, long after the mist should have worn off, Aello still feels the deathly cold of the dagger against her thigh. Eventually she will come to realize that she need never apply the mist to the blade again. It is forever cold, but forever retains the ability to harm the dead. OOC NoteThis really isn't as powerful as it sounds. Since Aello could simply reapply soulmist every time it wears off, its really just to add to the coolness of the dagger.