Closed The owl and the dead (Nascha)

[Vick]

Winter, 88, 512 AV

Vick was told about an kelvic within the cells of the island. Normally Vick would not even care for it was a waste of energy to deal with anyone however for a kelvic he had many different ideas that could help his research. After a quick stop to his room, he made his way towards the cells that she was within.

He was told she was in for three days with no visitors, food or water. This news did not make Vick move any faster as he could less if they died before he got to them. If they died he would just use the body for his research and the day would just move on like normal.

The doors slid open as the young small child stood in the doorway. His eyes holding a cold grace to them as dark circles laid under them as if he did not sleep for weeks. His lips were a dark purple and as he spoke, his tongue was pure black with yellow teeth.

“Put this collar on.”

It was a simple command as Vick threw down a item that looked like a spine. Really it was a spine with different symbols along each bone. A collar he called it but it held no clasps or straps but that meant nothing for he knew it would blind to her neck in her human form. Even if she was in her animal form it would still bind to her but he did not know what her animal form was.

“Tell me Kelvic, what are your reasons here?” Vick said as he waited for her. She had spent three days and two nights within the cell that barely held any room. No windows stood within the room as the only light came from blue wire along the edges as it gave a blue lit glow yet he knew she could easily see the blood along the floors and the smell of death. It would not take anyone of great skill to understand that this child was the only thing that would save her yet at what price?

If she did not answer him or if she did fight him would he have turned away sealing her fate? She already spent three days with nothing given to her. Vick knew she had to be weak from dehydration and hunger. He knew she only could last maybe a few more days from no water and a week more with no food.

Anyone could tell that her life meant nothing to this child of eight years of age. She could either live or die for his face told her the story of she was not the first to die by his actions or would be the last.

[Nascha Owl]

Nascha sat in the farthest corner of the cramped cell. She had bags under her eyes for the lack of sleep, whether it was from her stomach growling or the screams and goans of the others, she could not sleep. To make it worse, she was thristy. It had only been three days but three days that she would never forget. The first day was not that bad on her way to Sahova she had eaten pleanty of mice. So she wasn't to bad going without food for the first day. Once the second and third day came without any food or water she started to feel the hunger and thirst. Nascha only wished that a mice of some sort came in her cell but there was no luck. As she waited she played with the dirt and grime that covered the floors keeping. She mainly just made squiggly lines and swrils but that was enough of a distraction to the hunger. Her bown hair was sticking every which way and it was covered with dirt along with the rest of her body. Making her look tanner than she really was. The golden highlights in her hair had long snice turn a muggy brown color from the dirt. While she did not look her best one could tell that when cleaned up and well taken care of her eyes could sparkle and she would be a beauty.
The sound of footsteps moving throw the hallway perked Nascha up. Maybe it was food and water or maybe it was someone to take care of her. When a young boy appeared in the doorway of her cell, Nascha was surprised. She did not expect such a young kid to be walking threw this place. The boys appearance shooked Nascha more then the fact that he was a kid, his purple lips and black tongue with yellow teeth stood out. She smiled softly at the young boy as she stood up. Nascha watched as he threw the so called "collar" at her. She picked it up streching her back in the process. She admired the collar before she put it close to her neck where it bound together.
She ran her hands across the collar. "Oh, I am just looking for adventure and some place to stay," she said in a soft voice, kicking at imaginary dust. She ran her fingers threw her tangled hair like it would make a difference to it. The only thing Nascha really could do to survive this was to do as she was told and not to make enimes. Hopefully she was working on the right path with this nuit.

[Vick]

The collar was unlike anything she would ever feel before. The cold bones pressed along her skin and seemed to lock along themselves binding to her. It would have been subtle but she would feel an odd need to protect Vick, the child in front of her, and she would feel more tired yet that could have been just for the simple fact that she had not nothing to eat or drink for the past few days locked in a small cell with no room.

“Follow me.”

A simple order but an order nonetheless as the young child moved and walked out of the room. Twist and turns until at last he came into his office.


This room was called Legacy Imaginarium of Artifacts and one that did not know of it would just pass it as a normal door yet once the door was pushed open they would find themselves in almost another world. Sahova was known for its death and the dead bodies but this room was almost the definition of Sahova.


The floor was stone like the rest of the building however that did not stand out as much as the crudely made tan wood bookshelf in the left corner of the far room. Inside the small bookcase was a handful of different books ranging from thin to thick with thin books being the most common sight however even the books had seen better days from the look of the covers.

On the right far side of the room another wooden table could be seen. On this plain table one would see different tools from paint brushes to carving tools such as picks and hammers. The tools on the table were in neat order however the body parts, which were all bone, laid about the table as if no care was taken in the order or part from human skulls to bodies of snakes.

A fireplace was set inside the far wall between the bookshelf and the table which held the tools and bones. On a normal day one would see it slowly burn logs of different sizes however never really at the peak of what a fireplace could or would do. However the main light of the room was not given from the fireplace but by the D-wire along the edges of the ceiling which gave a soft blue light which was a normal sight on the island in any hallway or room.

Past the door frame a small desk stood in the somewhat middle position of the room. The desk was a simple crude desk that had seen better days. The wood was far from a shine and the cuts and dents along it told the story of how many people had used it before. Behind the desk was a simple arm chair that told the same story as the desk. In front of it also had two simple arm chairs that were made out of the same wood however unlike most of the armchairs in the island theses had no padding along the bottom.

On the right side of the desk one would see a basic bronze basin and two open barrels of water that was more often than not filled more than half way. The barrel itself had no outstanding markings other than a simple barrel that could be found anywhere. Yet if one did look inside, the right one was filled with different bones while the other was empty besides the water.

Along the walls hanging were body parts, bones that held odd symbols that were just around as if they were normal sight to see. The room smelled of age and death as Vick pushed the door open as Vick skipped along the room not fearing what laid beyond for anyone with a hint of instincts knew this room was not a safe place to be.


“Sit down.” Vick said as he waved to one of the chairs facing the desk as he took a seat behind it as he looked at her with dead eyes.

“Who and what are you?” The child said as he pulled out a small piece of bread from his desk and threw it towards her. It was hard, moldy along the edge and brunt along the edges. Clearly he did not care and it was a large token to even think about the fact she had spent the past few days in torment.