It's Alive! (Leviathan)

[Malia]

The smile surprised Malia, once again. That woman seemed to be full of surprises. Obviously her thoughts wandered in circles and serpentines and her emotions were a mess. It was evident as the woman spoke about a sister who had died. So everyone she loved and cared for had left her; that was a very good reason to go insane, Malia thought. Still, even as the woman hugged her and she felt living skin warming her cold body, she could only think of the redhead as her mirror: a mirror of the future, showing an opportunity. Malia had to be careful.

“I’m sorry for your sister”, she said, although she didn’t really care. Being polite was important. Her voice only carried a faint hint of tragedy in it, a very subtle signal, meant to soothe the opponent, meant to make her trust in Malia. She tried to instill a single thought: Azola understands me. Azola knows what is best for me. With her entire mind focused on that goal, for the first time in decades, probably even for the first time in her entire unlife, Malia felt herself trembling with willpower. She would do it. Nothing would stop her. Shatter that useless mirror! Nobody can anticipate the future, so what she was seeing must be a ghost of something else.

When the redhead got seated on the bed, Malia did the same to stay on eye level with her. Every action was carefully planned. Her mind felt crystal-clear, despite the bad state of her body. “Hm”, she said, as if gathering her thoughts. “Love is a tricky thing, I believe. It makes you long for another being, so you’re not alone anymore and can share dark nights and beautiful moments with them. But it also turns your feelings into a mess. I believe if there was a main problem, that fact would be it. It seems that love is gravitation into two directions.” Did the woman understand what her metaphors? Probably staying simple was a better idea. “Wherever there’s happiness, there’s sadness too. That’s how life is. I have lived through many different kinds of adventures, so I have some experience.” That, of course, was a lie. “It will always be like that.” Then she tilted her head, strands of black hair cascading over her shoulder. “It’s not for me to tell you what to do. Just let me tell you that there is no different way to love. There will always be differences between you and others.”

Of course, that was a lie too. Malia did try to lure the pretty redhead into a certain direction. Disguised as the friendly advisor, she wanted to make the girl truly believe that there was no way out. A part of her objected, and she didn’t really know why. But the reasonable part argued that she needed a body. Someone would die anyway. In a city such as Syliras, a Nuit had to take everything they got.

She leaned forward and touched the redhead’s shoulder. “However, if you want some advice ...” she said softly, her voice like fake silk, “I do not know everything; I do not know the future. What I do know is an opportunity.” Then she fell silent, waiting for the girl to ask. Hopefully there was some curiosity, a spark of fire left in her. If there was, Malia would take her straight to her personal dark twisted fantasies.

[Leviathan]

Little Miss Bloodredhead was obviously disturbed. Her eyes almost already looked cloudy with death as who-knows-what had flickered through her head. The thought of death wasn't an unfamiliar thought to the woman. Hell, there was probably a very small number of people that actually thought of it as much as she did. Each failed relationship only made her consider it more and more. It was obvious, even to her, that she wasn't able to achieve the only thing she truly wanted. Perhaps, not in this life, but the next? "My sister is better off now that she doesn't have to deal with me, I'm sure. She loved me, but you know... couldn't stand me at the same time." She gave a soft despairing chuckle as she even admitted that to herself. It was the sort of things human did that made them unique. Sharing their darkest secrets to free up their conscience. Perhaps Bloodreadhead had caused her sister's death, intentionally or not, but regardless, she felt some sort of responsibility. She leaned over, putting her head on Malia's shoulder and closed her eyes. It was so strange having somebody there that listened, someone that truly cared about her for a change. It was always she herself that had to watch her own back, and it was obviously not working out in her own favor. Now, at least, she had a wise friend to help guide her. But, if Azola left her... She didn't even know what she would do. The red headed woman leaned back to look at Malia as she spoke and spoke about Love. The Nuit spoke with so much intelligence that her intended victim could only assume she was experienced, and the fact that she was alone, meant they were so similar. Azola was broken too, only she didn't keep striving for love. She had given up. Bloodredhead couldn't though, it was everything she wanted. Even though she was thoroughly impressed with the philosophical talk about love and gravitational pulls, Little Red had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. All she heard was "Blah blah blah Love is hard... I know about this stuff," except in a more convincing manner and with more elegant words. She felt a tear coming to her eyes, perhaps those of fear or joy or even sorrow for the assumed fate of her new friend. "Azola... what can I do?"

[Malia]

Malia didn’t reply when the girl spoke about her sister. Apparently she had done something wrong and, in the process, lost her sister. Perhaps she only thought that her sister had died because of her. The important thing, however, was that Malia reminded the redhead of her sister. They were like sisters, so they could share everything and become one in their desire. It seemed that they were somehow similar, after all. Both of them desired to be more than they were at the current moment. Pretty redhead longed for love while the Nuit longed for power and strength. Their goals couldn’t have been more different, and yet something united them.

Malia smiled, unseen to her opponent, and put her skinny arm around the redhead’s shoulder. She was there for her. She even understood her to a certain degree, although she’d never let the emotions control her like that girl did. Humans and their stupidity, their innocence! She thought it to be useful, of course, but also didn’t understand it. Already she was too removed from the world of the pulsers to empathize.

There was a moment of silence. As Malia looked at the redhead, she saw a lone tear coming out of her eye. Crying? That was another human thing to do. Malia didn’t even remember when she had cried the last time. It must have been before her transformation though. Perhaps she had cried over some stupid childish problem or loss, for she had been a child her entire human life long. Never had she experienced the steel of growing up among humans. That probably was the cause for her lack of emotions, her lack of empathy. But Malia didn’t want to think about that! Past feelings and developments were of no importance to the present. Tanroa had given her the gift of immortality, so she could hunt down the one who had destroyed her family and her existence. She had to live for revenge. There was nothing else in her dark, dark heart.

So, when the girl asked what to do, Malia caressed her cheek with the other hand and wiped the tear away. Looking back was not allowed. She’d teach the pathetic redhead what she had learned long ago. “You and I are similar ... You’re about to despair, and I am already dead inside.” An undead, not more and not less; that was what she meant. “Death will be a relief. Leave your life in my hands, and I will promise that you will become a part of me. Never will I forget your life and your memories. And you will not be alone anymore, finally not alone in death.” She licked her lips.

Even after speaking them, she didn’t know whether she had chosen the right words. The girl wasn’t one for philosophy and logical arguments, but Malia still hoped that the opportunity was calling to her. She had used poetic words to speak to the girl’s heart. Now the heart had to answer. Or else. Malia avoided thinking of the consequences. Her hands were calm on the pulser’s skin, very still.

[Leviathan]

The woman stared at Malia for a long moment. She almost looked that all of a sudden she understood Malia's true intentions, to throttle her, to kill her, to devour her. The woman's lips quivered, fear, anxiety, it was all coming down on her as she realized what was happening, what was intended to happen. Tears, they flowed so easily earlier when she spoke of her lost lovers, but now it was her own life that was to be lost so that she could be happy. The woman lowered her head as those messy red hairs on her head fell, concealing her face. Her shoulders shook, heaving as she fought the sobs. She trusted Malia, Azola, her sister. But, could she do this? It was so hard to condemn yourself to death. It was so hard to fight down the human will to survive, just so that you could die. The redhead nodded suddenly, vigorously, and her head lifted again as her hand quickly moved to push the stranded hairs from her face. She was crying alright, but there was a smile there now, almost content with it. If she could be a part of her new sister, then perhaps it would be worth it. She stood up and moved across the room. A cabinet was quickly ransacked, she dug through it slowly at first, various papers, small books, and cheap jewelry were tossed out an onto the floor, and eventually she pulled out a knife, a stiletto knife at that. It almost looked like it was gleaming in the dim light offered by through the foggy cracked window. She held it, stared at it a moment. It was so plain, no fancy designs, no special magic crafting. It was steel, yet looked as beautiful and clean as pure silver. The only thing that made this Stiletto blade unique was the name written in Common, Reynola. It was her sister. The woman looked up at Malia after examining the blade for a long moment. The walked over to the Nuit, still not entirely sure she wanted to go through with this, but she trusted Malia. The weapon was handed over to Malia. "Please, keep it. It's all I have to remember my sister." And with that, she submitted herself to Malia's will. Whatever the Nuit wanted to do to her, was now available.

[Malia]

As the redhead nodded, relief washed over Malia. She had said the right things, made the right actions to bind the girl to her will, and her will alone! Her words had woven stories that painted pictures in the girl’s mind, triggered emotions in her warm, beating heart, everything she had done for the sake of getting her body for free. There would be no questioning, no investigation. The redhead had been a recluse, so nobody would ask where she had gone. She was safe from relatives and the Knights. As she thought of that, her dark eyes shone with greed, greed for power over the pulsers. She had done it.

Of course, Malia had changed bodies for a long, long time already, but never had she tried to convince a person of committing suicide and donating her body to Malia’s causes. There had been lucky coincidences, observing and taking what was left over on streets and in deserted inns, but never had she dared to talk others into submitting their life to her. Now she was sure she could do it, and would do it again. It was the best way of taking a new body.

When the girl stood and rummaged through her belongings, Malia sat still and waited. At the sight of the blade, her eyes widened just a little. Weapons and material belongings were of no importance to her, but she understood the sentimental value the knife had to the girl, and the meaning of the name carved on it. Reynola. A plain name, nevertheless the name of the person Malia had successfully replaced. “I will. Thank you for trusting me”, she said and received the blade with her right hand. Thank you for trusting me although you better should not. Of course she couldn’t say it.

And now they had more important things to do. Malia rose and inspected the entire apartment. She made sure to check every room. The bed would probably turn out to be the best location. “We need a flat surface where you can lie down, such as the bed. Then I will help you... in your endeavor.” She would have easily said ‘help you to die and then transfer your life into me’, but she caught herself. Death was a sensitive topic for pulsers. She better didn’t push it too far, or the girl would take her decision back.

As soon as the redhead was on the bed, Malia leaned over her, Reynola’s stiletto knife in her hand. “Are you ready? Is there anything else you want to say? If not, farewell. I will always remember.” The words sounded hollow, but somewhere behind that hollowness, there was real emotion. Malia was troubled, but she held herself in tight control. After the redhead had said anything she wanted to, Malia would look straight into her eyes, take in the life that sparkled in them and bring the knife to her chest, a little left to it because that was the location of the heart. She imagined it, a lump of muscles pumping blood through the girl’s veins.

Then, with as much force as she could muster, the Nuit stabbed the pulser.

[Leviathan]

OOCI'm just going to end it with this if that's alright. I know I've made this take much longer than it should have. Sorry. My creativity for this thread was pathetic. The Bloodredhead was led silently to the bed, tears were streaming down her face, but there was courage there, someone, lurking out in the open. She believed in Malia's deception, whole-heartedly, and she would give herself not to Malia's cause which was unknown to her, but rather to the chances at happiness. Slowly she lowered herself down on the bed, her eyes locked onto Malia's, searching for that connection she felt. And though it may not have been sincere, she found, saw it and drank it in. She reached upwards with a trembling hand and stroked that cold pale cheek of Malia's, and nodded slowly. There was a sudden piercing cry, of anguish, sorrow, hatred, a lifetime of emotion spilled into the air with a sickening blend of sound, then faded. If Malia was fortunate, nobody would find it strange that this woman would scream like this. She was known to be eccentric, screaming was something she did. Tantrums and everything. Minutes passed, and nobody came. None would mourn the loss of the Desperate Romantic

Thread Award! Malia   Skills Skill Gain Info. Observation 3 -- Eavesdropping 2 -- Negotiation 1 -- Persuasion 2 -- Disguise 2 Holding the appearance of being Human Acting 2 Pretending to be Human Interrogation 2 -- Philosophy 4 -- Weapon (Stilleto Knife) 1 --   Lore The Art of "Overhearing" Deception: Being Human Deception: Being Caring Persuasion: Identifying Yourself With Others Promise: Remember the Blood-redhead

Additional CommentsI know this was supposed to be a quick thread, I'm so sorry I kept falling behind. I don't know what it was about this that was so hard for me. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns feel free to PM me.