A way with death (Savis)

by **Jomi** on November 6th, 2018, 4:07 am

67th of Fall, 518 AV
"Speech"

The house shifted and moaned, creaks and trembles wound its way up the Infinity Manors wrought iron staircase and shook the foundations in the pre-dawn hours. Sounding for all the world like it was being shaken by a violent windstorm while the living inhabitants slept, oblivious to the tantrum their shelter was pitching.

"Easy there, friend. Its just a mountain lion, nothing a big scary building like you can't handle."

Jomi spoke words the Manor couldn't understand in low soothing tones, pushing calm through the houses open physic link only for it to be overwhelmed by a wave of fear that spilled into his mind. The ghost stood facing the wall of the sitting area in the first level of the Manor, cooing softly as he pulled his soulmist towards his core. The distant and frayed edges his dissipated shroud were gathered together and folded inwards, giving the ghost a sense of solidity as he reassuringly pet the trembling walls.

The ghosts shroud flickered as he struggled to hold onto his materialization while his consciousness filled with emotions that weren't his own. Jomi was visibly shaken and at a complete loss at what to do. With Madeira and Allister asleep and Emma having run away with Raj as soon as the Manor had knocked his stuffed head off the wall, the ornery and ill equipped ghost was the only one left to help the baby Architectrix work through its night terror.

Outside the world was dark and the ground was dusted with a slick sheen of frost that covered the Manor's prized gardens. Its lovingly tended flowers that had been pushed to grow in wild splashes of colour grew dark and sickly in the cold as the house abandoned them. Instead it focused its consciousness on the far corners of the property where a few chimes ago the wind carried the dying cries of what sounded like a big cat. The awful, nasally piercing noise had apparently frightened the young manor, as it had begun to cry and act up almost immediately. The house had seen death before but never anything bigger than a rat, Jomi rationalized, it had probably just been disturbed by the carnage caused by an large predator.

"Do you want me to go move the body? Would that make you feel better?" Jomi whispered into the wallpaper, he was sure that he couldn't move something a big as a lion without help, but the Manor was refusing to be calmed and the ghost was running out of ideas. A big breathy, unneeded sigh whistled out of the ghost as he dropped his materialization and slipped out of the walls. Being a parent was hard, the ghost mused with a grim smile as he pick his way over the rows of decaying flowers. The thought of the chaos that would descend on Madeira and Allister's life once baby Craven was born was one of the very few things in this life that brought the ghost a spark of genuine happiness.

Jomi made his way to the edge of the property where a cropping of large draping willows opened into a weed infested field. The ghost's eyes narrowed as he struggled to see in the low light, but he was certain that whatever the sound was originated from that direction. Despite the shaking of the Manor the air outside was eerily still as he marched his way over the field, eyes trained on the ground as he searched for the source of the house's tantrum. A break in the dewy frost caught the ghosts eye and his etherial stomach dropped, two sets of very human footprints came down from the north of the property. A line of blood was smear over the pristine, untouched grass at the end of the trail of prints next to where the frosted grass had been flattened in a wide haphazard circle. Jomi followed the blood trail, still wet and shining into a shallow valley that dipped down in the centre of the field.

Jomi was comfortable with blood, gore and death. His badger nature lived for the thrill of stalking and tearing apart his prey while he was alive and he remembered his own death in horrific detail. But this was beyond the pale, even for the constitution of an animal. Jomi's mists froze as his fists clutched at his chest, his face twisted between horror and grief into something monstrous as he took in the young woman laid out in the shallow ditch. She was a Konti, dressed in a nightgown and drenched in her own visceral and quickly congealing blood, lying face up her eyes were staring blankly at the empty sky with her mouth open in a silent scream. Beneath her chin was the remnants of her neck, the flesh having been torn away, leaving a yellowish tint of her spine shining through the carnage. Her ribcage had been split open and dug out, unidentifiable organs were thrown to either side of the corpse intact as if whatever had done this had been searching for something inside her. Scratches and bruises covered what was left of her, but other than the superficial wounds her arms, legs and lower abdomen she had been largely untouched.

The ghost shook out the remaining chill that permitted his soul as his eyes drifted over the woman, coming to a rest on a the thin black lines that peeked over her wrist where the pale bloom of iridescent scales were spared from the bloodbath. Jomi pulled up the latent power in his core and spread it out to the corners of his shroud, activating the mists in his hands as he reached for her. The mist pushed beneath her wrist gently turned hand towards the rattled ghost exposing a intricate black tattoo that wound up the inside of her arm. Jomi recognized the sharp tribal shapes of the Kuvan brand, the tattoo was proof of citizenship in Riverfall and and a common sight on the docks of Kenesh. The sharp Akalak style of the brand faded as it travelled up her arm, the lines softening and twisting until it transformed into an array of sea creatures.

Jomi's brows knit together as he narrowed his focus on that familiar tattoo, letting the world and the rest of the body fade out of existence.

Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

by **Savis Maren** on November 7th, 2018, 7:40 am

XX Autumn, 518

Endless were the problems one could encounter if they searched hard enough for them. Savis Maren sought after a challenge, problems to engage herself in to sift through the night's bells. Often enough, she spent her time within the Bharani Library, or maintaining her physical shell. This night, however, she spent in the midst of study within Infinity Manor. Madeira Craven invited the Nuit to work in her home on occasion, and though the pregnant woman long passed into the realm of sleep, Savis lingered deep within her laboratory.

The whole of Infinity Manor was new and strange to the Nuit. She understood from her time with Madeira that the place held some sort of sentience, a budding awareness that required affection and indulgence to foster into benevolence or malevolence. Savis, who bore no patience for children or underdeveloped minds, did not seek to interact with the place. Instead, she had much to muse on in her own mind. The Nuit placed the Gadget Arm on a worktable, the animated tool left inert in the midst of her study of it. She had the schematic opened, the scroll held that way with two strips of scrap metal. The Nuit perused the document with some measure of interest, but in truth, the effort was folly.

It's just... beyond me, she realized. The schematic had numbers and showed connections that she could begin to establish, due to her hand in designing the thing. However, she couldn't understand how wires played into the overall design. She didn't know how to connect them, how to operate the joints within the metallic pole that set through the length of it. The masterwork of craftsmenship that Edward Lucis sold to her was simple enough to Animate, but could she ever dream of matching his sheer dedication of being a maker?

Perhaps, given time... But certainly not tonight, she mused, at last letting laughter defuse her tension. She removed the strips of metal and allowed the schematic scroll to furl, removing the complex workings from her sight. In the world above the Nuit, the deep reaches of night encroached Lhavit. Frost surely dusted the surface of the gardens, and Savis Maren surmised that a bit of distance might clear her mind and allow her to sort herself out.

Lapses of concentration are common enough... especially when a dilemma surpasses one's capacity for understanding. Maybe I should think smaller, she reasoned before her attention shifted. Wheels sat inert several metres away from the table, its compartment restricted to access. Savis Maren cloaked the Gadget Arm within a hollow, linen scarf. She possessed many like it, her purchases from the day she'd met Madeira Craven. The scarf settled well on her shoulders, with the useless end of the arm resting on her shoulder. She armed the tool to her body with the use of a thick leather strap, which she hid beneath her clothing before turning towards Wheels.

"Abase," she uttered, and the automaton flickered to life. Its parameters weren't met, and so, it propelled itself forward on its spherical wheels and met Savis, lingering several feet away from her. When Savis stepped forward, it followed until the Nuit guided it in front of her.

"Oh come on, we went over this earlier," she chastised, pointing out the staircase. Savis didn't design the automaton with stairs in mind, but she worked out a simple enough solution. She pushed at the metallic back before commanding it,

"Move forward."

Enough force to support its weight and the gadget can supply the rest of the effort needed, she reasoned earlier. Savis Maren carried Wheels forward, and with her assistance, the automaton scaled the stairs. The effort took a great deal of time, and once the effort was made, they were deeper into the shroud of night. Savis made her way outside, and Wheels followed with ease. The Nuit set her sights on the doors, which the Manor opened for her. A frown pursed the Nuit's lips as she encountered that strange intelligence again, paying no mind to the twitch of curtains that draped the interior of the Manor. Hidden from outside view, Savis didn't reach out to the thing, and would probably receive a chastising lecture from Craven for it later.

Savis Maren stepped into the outside world, a breath of relief for the silence that clutched the night. But, where utter silence gripped the night, darkness did not cloak it. Clear as day Savis Maren saw the ethereal form, unmistakably a ghost like the one he'd seen with Madeira the day they met. However, this specter wasn't the same one. Long hair framed an unseen face, the ghost clearly looking down before it reached. The ethereal being let its spectral hand comb along an unseen object, and curiosity compelled Savis Maren forward.

"Breathe," she whispered to the Gadget Arm, the mechanism whirring to life beneath the scarf disguise as the Nuit drew closer. Her nostrils did not flare, for the scent of viscera and blood did not strike her sensibilities in the slightest. Muted to it all, she need move closer and closer before at last, she saw what the ghost was looking at. The sight, yes, was horrible to behold, but it was hardly the first corpse she'd seen, nor was it the greatest carnage she'd known. Savis' expression furrowed in frustration as she looked between ghost and corpse.

Did the ghost cause this? Should I even approach? What if... the complaints, bordering on fears of discovery, fell to deaf ears. She was compelled to join the ghost and ascertain what had transpired. When the full grisly horror of the scene fell to her scrutiny, she tilted her head when she found that the specter seemed horrified by the sight of it all. Or, at least, deeply perturbed. The paradox of it all brought stifled laughter, a hand risen to cover her mouth before she released the notion.

"Do you live here, ghost?" she called out into the night, making her presence known at last. She felt no reason to be afraid, steeling herself to the presence of the specter. Arms crossed over her chest as Wheels settled in place several feet behind the Nuit.

"What's happened?" she asked as she looked over the Konti once again, silver eyes narrowed as she willed djed to spring forth from the very core of her soul. It rose along the Nuit's spine before settling into her wide silver eyes. She allowed the Sight to manifest, her gaze trained on the corpse. Unlike the ghost, Savis Maren didn't much care about what the Konti was or what lands she may have hailed from. Instead of curiosity, her presence bore a ense of dread. Death was the one thing she (quite ironically, she realized) wished to avoid within Lhavit. Encountering a corpse (and moreso one ruined beyond all sort of utility!) invited all sorts of unwanted trouble into her situation.

Savis allowed herself one last, closer look, allowing the Sight to breach into the injuries. Jagged marks riddled the broken, a piece of the Konti's neck ripped out entirely. Blood and guts stemmed from an opened ribcage, all of which permeated with a deep, visceral hunger, the remnants of violence and horror the Konti and her attacker knew.

How ugly, she mused, her final impression of the mangled corpse as she shifted her attention to properly consider the ghost next.

WC: 1248

by **Jomi** on November 8th, 2018, 11:36 pm

Date 518 AV
"Speech"

"Do you live here, ghost?"

Jomi spun, still crouched on his heels, to face the intruders. The shock of the interruption caused him to drop his soulmist projection and the the dead woman’s arm as he regarded the Nuit with cold eyes. He'd watched her, unmaterialized and unseen, as she entered the ghostnail imbedded workshop on numerous occasions and knew that his Mistress had some sort of working relationship with her. But the spiritist was very adamant that her more difficult ghost not interfere with her new friend’s work. The box with wheels that came to a rest a few paces behind the Nuit was a complete unknown. Jomi cocked his head as he looked over the strange object. He couldn't see any strings or such that could cause it to move, could it be a wind up contraption like those he'd seen on childrens toys?

"Who's asking, corpse."

The ghost was aware of the existence of Nuit, he'd had several run ins with the creatures in Alvadas. He was aware that they were mortals who had given up their life and humanity for the opportunity to live forever by wearing the bodies of the recently passed. But unlike a ghost they didn't leave the cycle for someone they loved or to right a wrong, the transition to unlife was born of pure selfish fear, and that knowledge left him with a very unfavourable view of the undead race.

"What's happened"

"I don't know."

The ghost turned to look down at the eviscerated woman. He'd recognized her kuvan tattoo. While the ghost didn't know her name he knew she lived on the Satu Peak in a suite near the Den of the Lost. She'd been friendly with its proprietor, Rothsam. He'd seen them together a couple time when he'd gone to trade with the spiritist. But what was she doing here?

Jomi reached his hand over her head, pulling the energy from his soul core he activated the soulmist in his hand before running it down her face, closing her eyes.

"What I do know is that the Shinya are going to be here soon. And when they get here they are going to wonder why there’s a dead girl on Miss Craven’s property."

The a sliver of sunlight sprouted over the peaks of Lhavit, casting away the chill and warming the frosted soil. The ghost pulled his etherial shroud inward, reaching out to the edges and folding them towards his core. The soulmist that formed his body grew denser, giving his body a convincing human likeness as long as the observer didn't look too close.

"Now, I have a vested interest in keeping my Mistress out of trouble. So if you want to spare yourself then you are going to help me figure out who did this. If you don't and the powers that be start pointing fingers, I'm going to give a long, passionate speech about how I found the poor girl out in the field, in the dark, with a body snatching, walking corpse standing over her broken, mutilated body."

Rising to his feet the ghost took long purposeful strides to get up in the Nuits face and stare directly in her clouded, borrowed eyes. "But I'm sure you have nothing to worry about, everyone knows how much city officials trust Nuits."

WC:556

Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

by **Savis Maren** on November 9th, 2018, 7:51 pm

It was odd to see the sight of the specter crouched over the body of the Konti, if she reflected deeper on it. Then, the ghost physically brushed the Konti's face, closing her eyes which raised even more questions within the undead. Exactly how did a ghost function, that it could be ethereal and yet interact with the world on a physical level? The Nuit's mind whirred with ideas, ranging from magic to some sort of divine curse, but she relented once the ghost spoke aloud.

"Who's asking, corpse," he asked, a sort of contempt cast within his voice even as eyes moved to look upon the wheeled contraption behind her. Savis Maren arched her eyebrows as he answered her second question. The ghost spoke in short, dismissive words, utterly ignoring the Nuit in favour of the corpse when he performed his strange, fundamentally foreign task. When Jomi spoke again, without turning back to the Nuit, silence followed his words. The agreement within the undead was palpable. She didn't draw closer to the corpse, and rather, took an unconscious step back.

Then, the ghost did something. Savis Maren shifted her Sight, releasing the bitter hunger and terrible afflicted injuries on the Konti to move towards the ghost itself. Her eyes narrowed before flaring anew with the wellspring of her djed. She looked over the ghost with new eyes, her lips pursed into an expression of contempt as she listened to the ghost continue on. Was Madeira's specter threatening her? The idea of it seemed ludricrous, beyond the realm of comprehension. She wondered if she'd have gone forth and helped the ghost without such threats issued. Perhaps... perhaps not? She didn't dwell on it for too long.

Arms crossed over her chest tightened their grasp on one another, her back set straight as she processed the ghost's threat closely. If you want to spare yourself then you are going to help me figure out who did this... But, of course she was. Savis Maren wouldn't have left this sort of grisly spectacle left unsolved, just out of sheer curiosity. The idea of returning to the laboratory and continue her analysis of the Gadget Arm seemed a poor choice, given the fact that it was simply beyond her. First, however, she'd make it very clear to this specter just how mistaken he was on... everything.

"Spare myself? Oh, please. Who's going to believe in the words of a specter bound to this world by unknown and surely nefarious intent. The Shinya aren't so incompetent to believe a clear animal attack on a woman the fault of a 'body snatching corpse' who could no longer employ the use of such a ruined shell," she called out. There was a measure of bluff in her words, for she absolutely did not wish to test her words as reality. Savis Maren uncrossed her arms and stepped forward once again, crouching before the corpse and allowing the Sight to flicker away from the unknown ghost's aura.

He referred to Madeira as Miss, then as his Mistress. So, I was right in presuming that this one, like the other, is bound to her in servitude,she mused as she looked over the corpse without touching it.

"I will help you, despite your unnecessary threats. I quite like this place, you see. I have no desire to see Craven implicated in any sort of crime," she assured the ghost. The frosted soil and crushed blades of grass were the object of Savis' focus next. Large footprints were visible, paired as a mortal's would be. However, the grisly nature of the wounds hardly lent to the perpetrator being human. Confusion marred Savis Maren's features before she looked to the ghost,

"Have you any ideas, then? Based on the scene, some sort of animal attacked this woman and yet... there are no tracks that would indicate a predator."

WC: 653

by **Jomi** on November 14th, 2018, 2:37 am

Date 518 AV
"Speech"

The ghost wandered back to the Konti woman and crouched over her eviscerated corpse. It was no wonder why Infinity was so upset, the scene was gruesome to say the least. Stings of white sinew hung taunt as a bowstring between her discarded organs and torn open ribcage. Torn flesh was pulled back and exposed the oily sheen of her bones. But something about the way she was laid out unnerved the ghost. Something very obvious sat heavy on the tip of his tongue no matter how hard he tried to make the words manifest.

Jomi brought his concentration back to his centre. Channelling his frustrated energy and bringing awareness to the edges of his soulmist. Drawing the agitated mist back to his core and sculpting his preferred shape of a dark haired young man. The ghosts colours and definition became more clear in the low light as he pulled himself together anew.

"Have you any ideas, then? Based on the scene, some sort of animal attacked this woman and yet... there are no tracks that would indicate a predator."

It had to be a predator, what human was capable of this? And the noise he'd heard, that horrible screeching, the one that shook his home to the core. It had to have been a lion, maybe a bobcat, something large and scared and hungry. What other explanation was there? Jomi shook his head, eyes screwed shut and mouth set into a grim line as if trying to dislodge a thought. The movement causing his black hair to fan out over his back and shoulders in a peculiar motion. It behaved more like he were submerged in water than standing in the fresh mountain air. Showcasing the new ghosts inexperience and flawed materialization as he moved.

Jomi brought his hands over the woman. Pulling up the latent energy that resided in his soulcore the ghost stilled and activated the dancing mists in his hands. Allowing him to reach inside the Konti and push her remaining flesh around absentmindedly in an effort to avoid the Nuit and just think. The ghost scowled, hard lines etched themselves in his materialized face as he worked through his head how to explain just how wrong she looked. She had been torn open with great force and emptied out, not much was left inside her ribcage.

No not emptied out. Dug out.

Jomi was on his feet in a fraction of a tick, eyes scanning the ground with a new frantic energy before he found it. Next to the Konti woman's thigh and darkening with her rapidly congealing blood was the unmistakable thick purple, pear shaped liver. The tastiest of the organs and one of the Kelvic badgers favourite parts of any fresh kill, discarded and nearly whole, abandoned next to the corpse.

"It wasn't an animal, look."

Jomi gestured widely to the array of spilled flesh and whole organs that covered the grassy knoll with a toothy, prideful grin.

"What animal would take the time and effort to tear their prey apart just to leave all the best bits behind?"

A Maledictor.

The thought jumped unbidden into his mind. The ghosts grin wavered, slowly transitioning back to a scowl, they needed to figure this out before the Shinya got involved.

"It had to have been strong to break her ribs like that." The ghost pulled at his etherial hair habitually as he speculated. "These don't look like the kind of wounds a weapon would make. Do you think a person could do something like this with their bare hands?"

The thought was unnerving, Jomi shook out the intrusive thought with a rippling shiver the rolled through his soulmist.

"I don't know what did this but I think I know a place to start looking..."

The ghost was hesitant to ask Rothsam for help, especially with someone close to the Mistress he was betraying. But the ghost couldn't risk his mealticket getting her reputation tarnished just yet.

"I'll bet you're more familiar with corpses than anyone." The ghost eyed the Nuit cooly. "Can you see anything weird?"

Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

by **Savis Maren** on November 15th, 2018, 4:09 am

Date, Season, Year

Savis narrowed her gaze at the sight of viscera so brazenly exposed to the light of Leth. It was an incredibly gruesome scene, most certainly the work of a predator. And yet what kind of predator could infiltrate the city? The Shinya were on constant watch throughout Lhavit's perimeter, keeping the place safe. Was this an oversight? Or were there greater things at work, something far more sinister than unfortunate happenstance and negligence?

"It wasn't an animal, look."

The words brought an illusory chill down Savis' spine as she followed the ghost's gesture. The Nuit found her silvery gaze traveling along further viscera and carnage, all brought up by a toothy, superior grin on the part of the ghost. Was Savis Maren supposed to be impressed that he'd looked around? While a part of her relinquished whatever modicum of respect Jomi deserved for his observations, the rest of her was content to remain stoic and unyielding. Savis owed nothing to the ghost, who threatened her into place.

"Clearly. However, it also needed to be intelligent if it avoided the Shinya and climbed over the walls at the same time. I don't think this is the efforts of a person..." she began, looking along the ripped open ribcage before allowing the wellspring of her djed to tap forth once again. A breath filled Savis' lungs, an unnecessary breath meant to throw aside thought and will forth her djed. It rose into her eyes, breaching those silvery depths before she began to synchronize with the decaying corpse in front of her. Rather than the billowing smoke of a living organism, the representation of soul, the corpse was alarmingly still. While consciousness and presence no longer exuded from the object, there was the vestiges of emotion.

Savis watched it before, the hunger that welled forth from the wounds, but this was quite different. Savis Maren felt herself plunge into the wounds, where she felt the moisture of saliva, but only on certain parts of the red, destroyed chest. Jomi pointed out the organs that set along the floor and the Nuit looked for them one by one. She allowed her eyes to follow the floor, the Sight showing the scattered organs and she counted them one by one. Heart, pancreas, liver. Stomach, intestines. Skin. There's a few bits missing, aren't there? she mused before returning her gaze to the ruined body. She looked to the throat, and along its face. Its nose was completely ripped out, and all that was left of her mouth was her teeth and jaw. Ripped out nearly to the spine and nowhere to be seen, Savis was looking at the carnage of a very picky predator.

"Look at what is missing, ghost. The lungs, the throat... Look inside of her mouth while you're there. Is she missing anything in there? It doesn't look like any limbs are missing," she mused before elaborating. "I can tell that these wounds were inflicted with shredding motions. Teeth and claws are the likeliest of culprits. But what kind of animal would leave so much to waste? I've never heard of a predator with such specific tastes," she mused. Of course, Savis Maren had never really heard much of any predator's tastes. Such beings normally avoided Savis, with the smell of death and chemicals so strong on her, she suspected they'd try their chances elsewhere. "It's as if this... thing specifically chose its targets. Everything relating to this woman's ability to breathe is just... gone," she stated at last, her mind trying to fill the void of space. But in the end, she just didn't know what she was looking for. But it seemed like Jomi did.

"I was going to suggest the Bharani Library. It's got all sorts of information about predators and monsters alike. Though, if you'd prefer, we can follow your inclination, first. You seem eager to pursue it," she noted. Savis wasn't so eager to go to the library at the moment either. The attendants were no friend to Savis, who saw them as nuisances at worst, unhelpful at best. "Lead on, if you'd like. But, do tell me where we're going. The suspense is killing me," she said, allowing snideness to flood her words, a smirk woven upon her visage.

WC: 716

by **Jomi** on November 21st, 2018, 10:08 pm

Date 518 AV
"Speech"

"It's as if this... thing specifically chose its targets. Everything relating to this woman's ability to breathe is just... gone."

"And scream."

Jomi's mists floated lazily, having calmed down some, dissipating along his edges making him appear as an extension of the dewy morning fog. That sound was still rattling around in his head, that horrible inhuman screech. It was hard to believe that sound could come from a small Konti woman, much less one that was in the process of having her respiratory track ripped out.

"You didn't happen to hear anything a couple chimes ago? Like a scream of some kind?"The ghost let his head fall into his hands, the etherial mists that surrounded him shimmered in the low light as he pressed his transparent fingertips into his temples. "Infinity and I heard something outside the house and I don't think it was the woman. I can't describe it, not really, but it was high pitched and piercing, kind like the sound a cat makes when you pull its tail. I'm thinking whatever made that noise was what killed her."

"I was going to suggest the Bharani Library. It's got all sorts of information about predators and monsters alike. Though, if you'd prefer, we can follow your inclination, first. You seem eager to pursue it. Lead on, if you'd like. But, do tell me where we're going. The suspense is killing me."

"Don't humour me, you're not funny."

A low hiss, like air escaping out of a pissed off kettle, lifted off the ghosts form. 'Eager' was not the word he would use. Rothsam was more of a necessary evil and one he was hesitant to introduce to an associate of Madeira's.

"I've seen this woman before at the Spiritism shop on Sartu Peak. She seemed close to the Rothsam, the proprietor, he might be able to tell us more about her. Then we'll go to the Library."

The creeping sun cast a brilliant light over the Infinity manor, inching up the frost covered field and illuminating the gruesome, mutilated corpse. She'd be discovered any time now, and if the two undead were still there when she is, they'd be implicated as well.

"Lets get moving then."

*******************************

When they finally arrived at the Den of the Lost, Jomi studied the intricately carved wooden door with an uncharacteristic level of focus. The wood would be warm to the touch, being directly in the rays of the rising sun, had anybody in attendance been able to feel the heat. Carved with strange symbols and runes along the outer edges, it was equal parts barbaric and imposing.

The ghosts cheeks flared as if blowing out a large, impatient breath as he waited, even though no air exited his incorporeal form. The Sartu peak was slow to rise from sleep, very few venturing out in the frosty fall air. And those that did were sure to give the ghost and Nuit a wide berth as they slowly made their way to the home of Lhavit's resident Spiritist. Or rather, they made way for the Nuit, as the ghost kept blinking ahead of the lumbering pace of the undead woman.

"Whenever you're ready, Corpse!" The ghost called back at the Nuit as she slowly came to stand before the carved door.

Steeling himself, the ghost let his head fall to his chest as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure how Rothsam would react to the news of the woman's death. Even less about how he'd react to the prospect of inadvertently helping Madeira. He knew the two Spiritist's had been at each others throats since the day they'd arrived in Lhavit, and playing both of them against each other was about to catch up to the stressed out ghost. Rothsam knew of Jomi's relationship with Madeira and would question the ghost's directive as soon as the Myrian laid his cold black eyes on him.

The ghost head snapped back upright, his eyes roamed over the Nuit's body as a plan formed in his mind. The only way for them to skip the drama was to not let the Myrian know that the servant of his rival was present.

"Alright I'll need to borrow your skin for a tick. So just sit back and be quiet, I'll do the talking."

Without warning the ghost vanished, blinking into the Nuit. Jomi braced himself for the collision of souls as he had done countless times before as his form reappeared inside the space the Nuit occupied.

And nothing happened.

The ghosts brows knit in confusion as he scanned the empty street, his etherial shroud resting partially inside the Nuit. His eyes barely crest above the sparse wisps of blonde hair that coated the crown of the dead woman's head. Jomi spread his soulmist out experimentally, looking for any bare flicker of an astral body to grasp onto only to fall through the edges of the corpse.

"...Where is your soul?"

The ghost drifted out of the body, his mouth drawn out to a thin line and eyes looking the preserved corpse over quizzically. He'd never encountered a body being controlled without an astral layer. Ghosts lose their astral bodies when they die which is why they can't possess and manipulate a corpse. Although the Nuit was probably more closely related to a ghost than human, she would have to have an astral body in order to pilot her vessel.

Jomi shook out the unease that crept into his soul. They didn't have time for this.

"Right then, I suppose we'll just wing it."

The ghost drifted through the door leaving the Nuit to let herself in, and once she did she'd find herself in the veritable jungle of the Den of the Lost. Nails, animal remains and jars of questionable substances covered every available surface. Pelts of unknown animals partially obscured the tall windows that looked out onto the street, leaving the shop in constant shadow. A dark shape sat hunched over a desk in the back far corner of the shop, drilling the point of a thin obsidian black dagger into a small bone. Even from a distance the dark stain of the Myrian's tattoos could be seen rippling over his shirtless back as he worked.

The proprietor made no sound as they came in, or even acknowledged the presence of the odd pair as the ghost moved closer, carefully picking his way around the spiritist tools.

Jomi shook out his etherial shroud, calling it back toward his core. Slowly the ribbons of soulmist curled back, filling out his shape and giving his body new definition and substance. The low light of the shop was kind to the ghost, and with it he could almost pass for a convincing human.

"Rothsam, can we talk? I need your help."

The Myrian didn't answer, instead the spiritist spun the little bone between his thumb and index finger, critiquing his carving.

"There was a murder this morning, me and my-"the ghost waved his hand around flippantly as he struggled to pull a word from the empty air. "...accessory, are looking for the killer."

"Are you now."

A voice liked crushed gravel rolled out of the Myrians hunched form a tick before the world turned red.

With inhuman, dijed aided speed Rothsam was on his feet, knocking the work desk aside and launching the thin stelleto dagger at the ghost. The dagger, shining with the opalescent sheen of soulmist, cut through the ghost's chest unhindered as it dragged his soulmist back and pinned him to the wall. Jomi screamed in pain as new thick hunters knife was pulled from the Myrians boot and levelled at the Nuit.

The Myrians lips were pulled back to a snarl, showing a row of shining teeth filed to a wicked point and black eyes narrowed in a hateful accusatory glare. Even as a glimpse of red could be seen ringing his irises and tracks of salt collected in the delicate folds of skin that surrounded them.

"Why don't you start by telling me what S'kala was doing on Craven's property."

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by **Savis Maren** on November 22nd, 2018, 11:52 am

Savis Maren did not have so much time as this spectral cur did as to remain vigilant to the sounds of the night. Buried in her pursuits, the Nuit sought to learn from the gadgets she purchased from Lucis. She knew of their design work, and how to raise life into the metallic material. But, how they worked, how the joints and gears ground together to produce the movements she instilled into them... She needed to remain utterly entrenched in those studies to have even the smallest hope of comprehending the spectacles of function and form that she possessed.

"I did not. Perhaps some of us have the wherewithal to hear things through walls, or the free time to spend all of their sleepless nights listening for trivial things. I didn't, and I don't," she quipped. With that, she felt the air between them, while not capable of calming at the moment, was at least... just. Savis Maren did not take well to being referred to as 'corpse'. The vanity that welled beneath the surface sought to rebuke such disgusting monikers. She rejected it, and while Jomi told his story, she allowed her temper to diminish until she listened properly to his account.

Then, his jibe sounded. Could he grow frustrated as well? It wasn't the prerogative of the undead mage to concern herself with the temperament of the ghostly servants that Madeira Craven tolerated. The Nuit dropped the matter, but couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips as the ghost let out those hiss-infused words. Savis Maren certainly was eager to see where the machinations of a specter would take them. He seemed so sure that his course was right, and as he was the one issuing the threats, she'd 'acquiesce' to his 'superior' suggestions.

"I'd like to think you're wrong. I'm very well known for my humor," she quipped before the ghost made himself useful with a tale that actually concerned the Nuit. The screams and sounds that happened before Savis' appearance were irrelevant. After all, she could well enough tell what happened. She hardly needed the ghost to fill in the holes in her understanding there.

As the ghost spoke, the Nuit nodded. Another Spiritist in Lhavit? One that this ghost knew by name and reputation? The complications only seemed to pile up and it seemed that the Nuit wouldn't return to her efforts anytime soon. She steeled herself for the journey, and when at last the specter deigned it proper for them to leave the corpse, she was all too 'eager' to join him.

It'll be interesting to see if this one is any different from the ghost's mistress. Spiritism is an odd craft, after all.

~~~~~

The spirit took Savis through the city, leaving the Zintia peak and all its glory for the lower and more central Sartu peak. The night waned entirely, the principal rays of Syna bleeding over the horizon as Nuit and ghost both ascended up Sartu peak. The inhabitants of Lhavit, seeing one corporeal undead and one ethereal, gave the two a wide berth, but their stares of disdain and fear alike brought amusement to the Nuit in large measure.

Of course, the ghost was far ahead of the Nuit, but she followed his movements and made sure to follow him up the peak and towards the strangely carved door to the abode of another Spiritist. Savis Maren knew not the troubles of competing Spiritists, as her experience in Lhavit had magic practitioners rendered elusive from her. She did not seek after the tutelage of the Towers, and even if she did, there was a barrier to entry, the investigation of magic and those that practiced it requiring long, political games within the city that Savis Maren in truth had little time or patience for.

Madeira Craven does, however, and I'm by and far pleased to allow her to reap those accolades in my place, she reasoned. The Nuit did what she could with what she had, and what she 'had' kept her busy through all manner of the days' bells.

Whenever I'm ready, indeed, she agreed. However, then Jomi went on to ramble some nonsense, and the Nuit absolutely did not welcome what transpired next. The ghost vanished, blinking into the nuit's form. She did not feel the chill of its presence, but her sight was caught up in the silvery, ethereal glow of his form as he sought to enter herself. The Nuit felt violated, her fingers balling into fists all the way until absolutely nothing fruitful arose from his invasion.

... Where is your soul?

"It is most certainly there, and you seem incapable of tampering with it. I'll take my own steps and do my own talking, thank you very much, invasive cur," she hissed out. She didn't delve deeper, quite grateful for whatever mechanisms the Daek-Nuit performed on her soul to make it inaccessible to Jomi's meddlesome and unwelcome invasions.

Right then. I suppose we'll just wing it, he offered, as if the spirit was so charismatic that the Nuit's involvement was utterly unnecessary. If you wanted to do all the work, you could have arrived here alone, she mused, glaring at the ghost all the while until he blinked out of her sight. Savis Maren pulled open the door, allowing herself entry and following the ghost.

The ghost seemed to enshroud himself in false flesh, filling out his transparent form before stepping on 'physical' feet towards the Spiritist. The tone Jomi took with this one was far more civil, and Savis Maren looked on the Myrian who saw it fit to dance around in his store with nary a shirt to be found. The Nuit did not dabble in the mindless, visceral pull of physical attraction. She'd passed from mortality long before such physical cravings manifested within her, and certainly her condition didn't endear her to the male form in the slightest. The Nuit listened as Jomi told a highly abridged version of their evening...

There's a shift in dynamic here, now. Where are your threats now? Your aggressive composure? Foolish phantom, bowing your head so soo- she began, interrupted from the thought when Rostam moved. The Spiritist was faster then the Nuit could've possibly imagined from his build. He rose to his feet and impaled the ghost on a tool (likely made in a similar fashion to those strange nails that Savis saw in play at Madeira's home. There was much to process, but Savis Maren was utterly bemused at the scene. From one moment to the next, Rostam attacked the ghost and pointed a thick, but short blade at the Nuit herself. Then, that grotesque smile formed upon Rostam's lips, teeth sharpened to animalistic points.

This man is some sort of monster... nothing like Madeira, she thought. However, the Nuit did not shake in fear. Even with the blade pointed at her, she remained quite still, crossing her arms over her chest as those silver eyes trained themselves directly at the Spiritist.

"Lay down your arms. This... specter came to you out of desperation. I can't tell you what... whatever her name is was doing. There was some sort of struggle and now you've assaulted the only one who could tell you an accurate answer to your question."

Did people... think before they acted? It seemed that testerone-fuelled aggression was all that these detestable men, spectral or mortal could come up with. The Nuit narrowed her eyes before she added, "By the time I made my way to this S'kala, she was already very dead. Her throat, nose and lungs were ripped out and this... thing," she continued, referring to Jomi as she'd never had the displeasure of learning his name, "Considered our course of action to arrive here. If you can help us, by all means, do so. If not, I'll leave the foolish specter here to flay with your specially crafted weapons and take my leave."

Savis Maren still bore the teeth of resentment for being forced along in this encounter, and she was happy to offer what information she could to Rostam. After all, this wasn't the first time the Nuit had a weapon pointed at her. Though, she thought with her entry into Lhavit, those times were well behind her.

Thanks, ghost. You're ever so helpful, she thought privately, laughing at its pain without making a sound.

WC: 1413

by **Jomi** on November 30th, 2018, 4:23 am

67th of Fall, 518 AV
"Speech"

This was going so, so wrong.

He knew. Rothsam knew about the murder of his friend and that whatever happened to her had happened on Madeira's property. A fact the ghost had planned on keeping to himself. That meant that the Shinya had already started investigating, and the duo were just chasing their footprints. And Jomi didn't doubt for a single tick that the Myrian wouldn't use the personal secrets the ghost sold him in order to implicate Madeira.

"What did you tell them, Rothsam! Whatever you're thinking that's not-"

"Lay down your arms. This... specter came to you out of desperation. I can't tell you what... whatever her name is was doing."

Rothsam ground his animalistic teeth with the pressure to not take a chunk out of the disrespectful dead woman's throat right then and there. Jomi could see the tendons in the Myrian's neck jump and pull from his pinned position on the wall. A small dark part of the ghost wished the savage would give in just a bit, give the frail wizard a proper beatdown in his place. The ghost knew better than to lay a hand on a valuable associate of his Mistress, or else risk getting dusted by the volatile young spiritist. But he was more then happy to stand back and let others do the dirty work for him.

The thin stake-like dagger was embedded deep in the wall, pinning his soulmist beneath its pointed tip. Pain lanced through to his very soul as the ghost wrapped his etherial hands around the worn wood handle.

"There was some sort of struggle and now you've assaulted the only one who could tell you an accurate answer to your question."

There was a grunt of exertion and barely surpassed agony as the ghost brought forward the latent power up from his core and wove it into the soulmist in his hands. His face twisted painfully and eyes screwed shut as he pushed against the handle away from himself and out of the wall. The Myrians flux added an impressive amount of force to the projectile, forcing it in several inches deep into the wood. It took several ticks of painful twisting before the stelleto gave way and clattered to the floor.

"By the time I made my way to this S'kala, she was already very dead. Her throat, nose and lungs were ripped out and this... thing, considered our course of action to arrive here. If you can help us, by all means, do so. If not, I'll leave the foolish specter here to flay with your specially crafted weapons and take my leave."

"Just going to run off and leave the ghost here?" Rothsam turned to the ghost with a smile filled with snark and malice. "Your Mistress sure knows how to pick them, doesn't she Jomi?"

Jomi felt an ethereal chill pierce him under the stare of those cold black eyes, rooting him in place. The ghost saw the casual remark as the threat it was. The offhand way he acknowledged a relationship between the Nuit and Madeira he should know nothing about and the use of the ghosts name implying they were familiar with each other. The ghost met his stare although he made no move to approach the Myrian. To run now would threaten Madeira's freedom but to stay and argue her innocence risked the volatile spiritist exposing the ghosts betrayal. He had no choice but to tread the line between both options.

"You want to know what happened to S'kala, so do I. We have the same goal we can-"

"You keep her name out of your mouth, spirit!"

The ghost saw the tick it took for the dijed to divert to his arm before the Myrian threw the hunting knife with blinding force. But Jomi was prepared this time. The ghost lined up his sight with the spiritist and blinked away, vanishing before the knife could pass through him. The hunting knife's soulmist enhanced blade imbedded harmlessly into the wall as the ghost tackled the spiritists soul in an aggressive possession.

It was an act of desperation. Jomi knew he couldn't win a fight with a spiritist as talented as Rothsam, and he knew the Myrian could trap him in his body if he so chose. And he was counting on that.

Jomi fought off the encroaching spirit of the Myrian as long as he could. Pushing to fill his bones and weave himself into his soft tissue and using that connection to force his memories into Rothsam's head. The spiritists body froze as Jomi screamed the last bell of memories directly into his mind. The noise, the body, everything he didn't want to see projected behind his eyes before the last of the ghosts defences gave way. The spiritist shut his body down encasing the ghost in an impenetrable barrier, locked away deep in his mind.

Can you see now? The spiritist stumbled back, grabbing onto a table for support as the false memories faded from his mind. His eyes red and glassy and face pale as ghost spoke in weak whispers. Madeira couldn't have done this, she's not a fighter, you know that.

Rothsam forcefully ejected the ghost. Inverting the force of his soul to push the invading spirit back out into the shop as he collapsed into a chair.

Jomi was a thin flicker now, the last bell of excitement had drained the ghost.

"And if she did murder that woman you know she wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the body on her front lawn."

Jomi glanced over his shoulder at the Nuit. His eyes were hard and expectant, urging her to speak some sense into the grieving man.

WC:955

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