Closed We Have The Ghosts But Where Are The Ghouls? (Madeira)

[Dexius]

90th of Fall, 516 AV
20th Bell
Sanity Center

It was a particularly slow day today for jobs inside or even outside Alvadas for Dex. In fact, ever since the expedition into the Unforgiving ended there had been a distinct lack of work for the Symenestra to do. Though the same woman was still submitting papers to protect her from a giant beetle Dex was just as happy to ignore it now as he has been since he saw it on his first day of work. So instead Dex resigned himself to helping out Serenity around The Center until a more relevant job decided to make its way onto his lap.

So here he was, sorting through documents in another part of The Center organizing a stack of papers. Serenity had asked Dex to sort them alphabetically first and then also by color, though something inside told him she was just poking fun at him another part made her seem completely serious. The Disappearance of Duncan Dresdon was the next paper at the top of the stack. Apparently this man had up and vanished some 6 years ago and nobody knew where he went and he probably was never found either, considering all things Alvadas that is.

Dex merely sighed as he placed the paper in the appropriate alphabetical pile, he would separate them by color later should he actually have to. So he continued on and on and on sorting ridiculous papers until he could barely keep his eyes open. Rubbing his eyes while shuffling through the small room Dex made his way to a less cluttered spot int between a few boxes and plopped down on the floor. He heard Serenity talking to a few visitors in the main room and hoped she would wake him before she decided to leave. Never before in his life had the Symenestra literally been bored out of his mind. Hopefully something or somebody would pop in soon and give his mind something to focus on other than the alphabet.

----

In her office Serenity had just finished the sale of a home to the newest pair of Alvads, for that moment at least. She was genuinely curious as to what was taking the Symenestra so long with a simple task of separating a few papers. She managed hundreds of papers a day so surely he could handle just a few dozen, right? "Dex!" Serenity hollered in the direction she had sent the man a mere 10 chimes earlier. With no obvious response she resorted to simply yelling his name louder, her expression grew rather annoyed and her brow furrowed slightly. "Maybe he drowned in the papers and died..." Serenity pondered her own words for a moment before coming to the conclusion that Dex had better not have died. If he did then she would have to clean his corpse up off her floor, and that did not seem very thrilling. A small thump could be heard from the room Dex was working in just as another guest was opening the door. "Don't people know it's getting late?" Serenity went back to working on the papers on her desk until the stranger approached.

[Madeira Dusk]

We Have Ghosts But Where Are The Ghouls?
90th of Fall
20th Bell

People stopped and stared as Madeira passed. Some stood to the side in shock and bafflement, some moved forward as if to try and help. But everyone who would have been moved to speak were silenced by the look on her face and the hand holding hard and white to the loaded black crossbow at her side.

From head to toe The Spiritulist was splattered with flecks of blood. Some of it was hers, most of it was not. Her blue linen dress was perforated with punctures and small tears. And underneath the dress her pale skin was scratched to ribbons, though most were not deep enough to bleed. A handful of little white feathers were stuck to her skirts by flecks of sticky gore, giving a hint as to where all the blood had come from. Most of the skin was missing from her hands and knees. And two pieces of curved glass stuck out through blood crusted hair in the back of her head.


But what drove people away was not the weapon or the state of her body and clothes, it was the strange dissonance between her situation and her expression. Her back was ramrod straight, her steps unhurried, and her face was carefully devoid of expression. Almost too carefully. Effect was creepy and offputting. Like the puppet that continues smiling even after you've cut the head from the body.

Inside was a different matter. Inside her heart still fluttered with residual panic, and she fought to control her breath. What should have been a fairly routine exorcism at the Crooked Playhouse had gone horrifically wrong. The ghost was stronger than she'd ever faced. And it's madness was a corrosive, consuming thing. Even the thought of it made her knees weak, and the fingers around the crossbow grow white.

But she was a Craven. A Craven did not show weakness in public.

She wasn't even aware of where she was walking, figuring 'away from there' to be good enough. But as her heart began to settle, she had to start thinking about the next step. The simple fact was that she had failed her job. And to go to the Craven manor as she was, beaten and bleeding, to tell them so was too much for her to take. She imagined Madara's indifferent nod, like it was all she expected. She imagined her cousin Everad laughing at the little fringe-family start up who failed so spectacularly. She imagined the burning disappointment in her fathers eyes. In her minds eye she watched the career she had just started building crumbling around her, as her family learned not to trust their youngest ward with such simple tasks.

No, she couldn't possibly face that. But neither could she face this ghost. At least not alone.

The thought made her stop in the middle of the street, and a man driving flock of leashed geese had to turn hard to avoid her. He looked over his shoulder as he passed to chew her out, but he paused in the act of insulting her intelligence when he saw her. Then without saying a word he meekly scuttled away with his honking cargo.

She couldn't bring a Spiritualist back to the playhouse with her. But perhaps she didn't need too. What she needed was to fight violence with violence. Even a ghost as powerful as him would be hard pressed to fight two aggressors at once. She needed a fighter.

Madeira turned on her heel and marched towards the Sanity Center.

She arrived at the Center just as a couple were leaving. The man pulled his woman out of her path as if to protect her from the clearly insane teenager. "Pardon me", Madeira intoned politely at their bafflement as she caught the door and entered.

She saw Serenity Berel sitting at her desk behind a pile of files, papers and knickknacks. It took her a few seconds to look up and acknowledge the visitor. By which point Madeira was already leaning over her desk, leaving a bloody hand print on the stained wood. The reassuring smile did little to soften her words, clipped as they were with determination and no little amount of pain.

"Good evening. I need to hire a sword, and someone to wield it. Tonight. Now. Where can I find such a person?".

[Dexius]

90th of Fall, 516 AV
20th Bell
Sanity Center

Serenity looked down at the young woman's fresh blood that was currently staining her favorite desk before locking eyes with the young Craven girl. She started off with a rather exaggerated first word, to the point it was almost condescending. "Miss...Craven I would rather prefer you not come into my office and begin to drip your lineage all over my things." In an instant after Serenity had managed to pull a piece of cloth out from one of the many compartments around her work area and forcibly removed the offending Craven life blood from her work space. At least she had found the one part of the desk that had been empty.

Serenity looked on at the woman with a serious gaze as she offered up the partially bloody rag to the bleeding Craven. "And yes I know who you are before you ask. It's my job to know people of importance." Whether the woman took the rag or not she grabbed the quill she was working with prior to being interrupted, for a second time to finish and sign a paper before returning to the bloodied girl. "I suppose the family name has granted you that, for now at least." The keeper of The Sanity Center rose from her seated position and made her way across the room and stood just outside another doorway. "Now tonight you happen to be in luck, Miss Craven. I just so happen to have a swordsman on the premises. He's probably...not what you will be expecting but he will take what ever kind of crazy job you may have. Stay here and try to keep your blood off the rug will you?"

Without so much as another peep Serenity disappeared into one of the back rooms in The Center. Moments later muffled yelling and arguing could be heard echoing back into the main room. "..left me...all day!" "One simple thing...!" "I can't believe.....organizing papers....!" "....another job!" "....stupid stacks of paper!" "...in the city you idiot!" Everything went silent in that moment except for a small irregular thumping sounds coming back towards the main hall.

Serenity returned to the main office with a firm grasp on the shirt of a black haired Symenestra with a rapier belted around his waist. The continued thumping of Serenity's steps as she headed back to her desk made it very obvious she was done playing any kind of games. "This woman requires your assistance Dexius. She is from the Craven family so YOU will show her all due respect." She sighed as she stared down the Craven girl again. "And YOU will bring this oaf back once he is done with your job...he has left a previous job left unfinished and I wont have any of that."

The Symenestra merely rubbed his eyes and murmured to himself in protest. "I should have just stayed home today...oh well." He looked down at the rather short and bloodied woman before him. So this was one of those famous Cravens? It had appeared she took a fight she couldn't win. He walked over and opened the door to let the ragged girl out of The Sanity Center while he introduced himself. "You can just call me Dex, please do actually. What might I do for you today, miss?" He paused a moment before continuing on. "And would you like to..uhm..clean up before we get down to killing something?" His voice was rather sincere and almost innocent in it's tone but it also could have been taken for sarcasm.

[Madeira Dusk]

We Have Ghosts But Where Are The Ghouls?
90th of Fall, 516
20th Bell

It all happened so fast. One moment she was being chastised for bleeding on the rug, next a tall lanky stranger was put into her service almost forcibly. Well, she hardly had the luxury to be choosey. Soon the man was holding the door for her. His eyes were hooded with sleep, but he still managed to give her a brief cursory glance. She, on the other hand, took a long second to look over this creature who’s services she was buying. He was pale, stringy, and obviously not human. And, apparently, he was a bit of a lazy slacker too. That didn’t bode well. Mind you, danger can make even the laziest shyke quick on their feet. Maybe she should just be happy that the guy was so skinny, it might make him harder to catch.

“I’ll make sure to return him in working order”, she told Serenity before she breezed by the man on the way out. Only once they were under way did Madeira answer him.

“Well, Dex, you’re going to help me put a very disturbed soul to rest.” Her tone was professional, lacking in the careful affability she usually displayed. The incredulous look on her face after the show inside was once again melting into a kind of set determination. Madara would be proud. “You can haggle over your pay later. We need to get to my house first. I need supplies and to-” she looked up at him, her eyebrow raised. She did not miss his earlier sarcasm. “freshen up.”

Every step shot a lance of pain through to her head, and the tiny lacerations on her body were irritated by the movement of the dress. But the Craven did nothing to show her discomfort. The two of them kept a steady pace, following the pull of the key around her neck to find the small cottage. Madeira opened the door gingerly with her skinned hands, and motioned for Dex to enter.

Her house had all the necessities, but nothing to show that anyone actually lived there. The floor was spotless, the bed neatly made, there no flowers were on the scrubbed table, no momentos from family. It was strange for a lifelong Alvad to live in a place with absolutely no personality. Mind you, Madeira didn’t seem to have much personality either.

“Face the wall, please” She told the stranger in her house. She waited for him to turn his back before putting the crossbow on the table and carefully peeling herself out of her ruined dress. Bits of blood dust and feather eddied around her as she eased the garment off her shoulders as gently as possible. She had to suck in a breath as she bent over to push the bodice over her hips. Any movement in her head made her dizzy. Out of her trunk she drew out a pair of linen trousers and a white blouse. At least she didn’t need to pull the shirt over her head.

Once she was laced and buttoned up she offered Dex her only seat at the table.

“There is a deceased man in the Crooked Playhouse who is making trouble for the performers.” she explained without prelude. “He’s a murderer, if that makes you feel better. At least, he is now. Though I have reason to suspect he was a murder when he was alive, too.” The thought of those bloodied hands when he materialized, holding a painting tool and a bouquet of roses, made her skin crawl. Oh yes, he was a murderer. He had to be.

She explored the back of her head delicately with her fingers as she spoke, trying not to wince.

“He’s, ah, very violent. Likes to possess people, likes to throw things… likes to posses and throw birds.” A pathetic, whimpery sound escaped her clenched teeth as she carefully extracted the largest piece of glass. She held the rag Serenity gave her to the wound as fresh blood began to seep into her matted hair. “If you know anything about ghosts, that would be, gah, very helpful.” The second bloody piece of glass joined the first, and she dumped the two on top of the bloody dress on the floor.

She still had to make new soulmist, to give his skinny sword some power to harm the etherial ghost. She bent over the trunk again, and began digging out the ingredients necessary while holding the reddening cloth to her head.

“And if you have any questions, now would be the time to ask.”

[Dexius]

90th of Fall, 516 AV
20th Bell

Apparently the woman was taking Dex along with to kill a spirit. How exciting. He always wanted to go ghost hunting, not. Without much to say at the moment Dex silent followed his temporary employer towards her home. He quickly realized that the woman must have a great deal of self control considering the condition she was in and the speed at which they were moving. Not a whimper, cry, or even a small limp betrayed the woman's calmness as they sailed through the city streets. Once they had finally arrived at her home Dex was able to see a bit more clearly the damage to her body. The hand that held the door open for him was marred, slashed, and of course bloody the other held a crossbow. Great. Perfect. Another seemingly emotionless woman with a bow. Hopefully this one wont try to guilt him to death.

Dex entered the Craven residence at her gesture and resigned himself as usual to pay a moderate amount of respect for his employers and removed the red scarf from around his neck. For whatever reason it seemed to put people on edge, he wasn't sure why. Compared to his home hers was much more fresh almost as if it was on display for market instead of being lived in. But nothing could be strange in Alvadas, not even the perfectly cleaned and organized house in an otherwise chaotic city.

At her request Dex turned to face the front door of the residence. He decided it was probably a good time to check on his blade, so he did. With rapier drawn Dex began to run his finger across the blade's edge. On both sides of the weapon he ran his left index finger from the base at the blade guard all the way up to the tip. Once complete he very fluidly nicked the tip of his rapier into his finger and as it was still rather sharp he very obviously cut himself. Perfect. Though he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to cut a ghost down with his rapier so hopefully the woman had some ideas.

With the woman done changing he returned his weapon to it's scabbard and stood next to the table and re-offered her the seat back. He was fine where as she was clearly in less positive health at the moment. Dex nodded at Craven as she described the mark for today's job. "So we're going to murder a dead murderer who is still murdering. Did I get that all correct?" He wasn't exactly against the idea but he wasn't all for it either, at least not without a proper plan laid out for him.

She was obviously now in pain as she pulled a chunk of glass out of the back of her cranium. Dex stepped over and offered her a hand, if she wanted it. "You should get these wounds wrapped up before we go if you aren't going to see a healer. And I've always wanted to get assaulted by a host of birds, maybe this will make the one at home seem more bearable."

Dex walked over and inspected the shards of broken glass and the damage to the woman's previous attire. More than a few feathers were still hanging on to various rips in the tattered cloth which more than confirmed her story of killer birds. Birds, why'd it have to be birds? "I'm not going to pretend I know how to fight ghosts. I thought that was what the Cravens did. Not sure why you need me really." While speaking he got caught up in looking around the surface of the woman's home for anything to help with her still bleeding wounds.

"You don't have any extra cloth or an old shirt you don't want, do you? I'm not about to go headfirst into the dark without a lantern...erm..that's something humans say, right? Regardless, if your fighting the ghost I can't have you passing out on me." Dex stared the woman down with his bright purple eyes, a hint of blue around his iris' almost jumping out at the woman should she meet his gaze.

"I only have two real questions though." He held up one finger and then the other in a rather sarcastic fashion, she seemed to responded to some of it earlier at least. "One, how the shyke am I supposed to kill this ghost of yours? Two, what's your petching name lady? Do you know how hard it is to work for somebody and not have something to call them?" He usually got somebody's name on paper but this wasn't exactly the case.

[Madeira Dusk]

We Have The Ghosts But Where Are The Ghouls?
90th of Fall, 516
20th Bell

Madeira waved away the hand that was offered. Honestly, she could have used the help. But once she got a glimpse at his hands (pale, strangely elongated things tipped with filed black nails) she mentally recoiled. She knew, at least vaguely, what he was. Something called a Symenstra. While she's seen some exotic things in Alvadas, nobody had nice things to say about his particular breed. All she could remember of anyone even mentioning them were tied up with whispers of poison and culling. She removed the glass herself and did her best to ignore his hands.
 
Out of her wooden chest she brought a slice of soft white cheese cut with her eating knife, a handful of black flour and a whole egg. With her back still to Dex she crammed all three into her mouth. She worked her jaw to crush down the eggshell, then mix the three together to make a sticky dough. Next she brought the eating knife to her wrist and widened a slice in her already broken skin. It seemed counterintuitive to wound herself again when she was already bleeding. She brought the trickle of blood to her lips and sucked hard, drawing blood into the dough. Chewing a few more times, she swallowed the concoction. Her eyes closed for a moment as she thought hard on what she was trying to accomplish. She was, essentially, harvesting and separating part of her astral body from her physical body. She concentrated on absorbing the substance into the dough, and thus transform it.
 
Only then did she turn back to him to respond to his many questions, the corner of her mouth turned up in an apology for the disgusting display.
 
"Well... You're not wrong, I suppose. But we are not murdering him, we are exorcising him." She said, clearly uncomfortable with his term. "You cant kill something that's already dead. We're simply moving him on to where he should be, so Dira may pass him on to his next life." His cavalier attitude was throwing her off balance. Here they were, talking about a powerful, dead murderer who has come back to kill again, and he was making sarcastic jokes. It was surreal. Who was this man?
 
"And if you really must know, I'm only a Craven ward. I haven't quite earned the name yet." The back of her neck grew hot with embarrassment, though her tone was as businesslike as ever. "But my skills are more than enough to exorcise this ghost. I just need help with the more physical part", she said, part defensive and part reassurance. She didn't want him to think she wouldn't be able to keep him safe.
 
"About that physical part; I not a very good fighter, And this man is very, very violent. I can make your sword" she points to the skinny, elegant weapon on his hip, "able to interact with ghosts. If you stab him, it will hurt him. Badly. What I need is for you to weaken him enough so that he abandons his grudge, or at least enough that I can convince him to leave. Pain can be very persuasive."  
 
"And secondly", she mimics his sarcastic hand gesture with distain. "My name is Madeira. Pleasure." For the first time since they left the centre, Madeira finally looked him in the eye. She found herself momentarily shocked by their colour; a captivating shade of purple ringed in purest blue. So very, very unnatural, yet somehow human. Flustered, she held out her hand automatically for a handshake like a good little Craven upon finally introducing herself. But she withdrew it almost immediately, pretending to wince at the pain in her skinned palm. Truthfully, she didn't want to touch his spidery hands.
 
Madeira cleared her throat and looked away.
 
He was right about the bandage. She didn't want to get jostled and open the wound all over again. Unfortunately, she was wearing the last of her clothes. She prodded the soiled dress with the toe of her shoe. It wasn't sterile, but she didn't have too many options. She took the discarded eating knife and tore out the stitching in a faded blue sleeve. Once she's separated it from the bodice, she wound it around her head over the rag still pressed to her headwounds to make a gory sort of headband. At least it would stop the bleeding long enough to go to the Ionu’s Mercy for some proper treatment.

“If you’d please put your sword on the table, I can make it impregnable to our ghost.” Madeira said, tying the knot of the sleeve across her forehead. “Don’t worry. Nothing I do will be permanent, or change it in any significant way. You can watch if you like.”

[Dexius]

90th of Fall, 516 AV
20th Bell

The spider waited patiently for the woman to turn and face him after she grabbed a few things from a small chest. She was doing something with them but what it was he wasn't exactly certain. All he knew was that when she turned and began to speak that all the things she grabbed were gone save for the small knife in her hand. A quick snack perhaps? He wouldn't likely know but it did appear that the Craven might have found herself another wound on her arm. Either that or it was just one that was reopening. Not that Dex was an expert on the human body, but he did know they bled just like most other things including Symenestra.

The woman went on about her relation to the Craven lineage and Dex was a little surprised at her statement. "Just a ward, huh? I suppose that means the blood of the Cravens does not run in your veins. No matter, my parent's blood flows in me but I decided to start my own lineage. But it's just as likely to start and end with me." At the very least the woman seemed very collected and calm in perhaps an eerie fashion. Everything was straightforward from her and nothing seemed to change her tone or break her resolve.

Dex leaned against her table and wistfully played with the pommel of his blade as the spiritualist decided to explain his role in the process. Apparently he was going to cut the ghost down with his sword. Not what he expected exactly. "I don't think stabbing something is out of the question, miss. But what are you going to do when he starts throwing birds at me?" His tone changed from it's usual carefree to that of seriousness. He wasn't exactly ready to be killed by something that isn't even alive anymore. "Not to be rude, but he bested your strength once as far as I can see. If he can beat you and you're the ghost slayer out of the two of us, I loathe to wonder what he'll do to me."

Just as quickly though, she changed subject to her own introductions. Dex chuckled softly to himself as she mimicked his earlier actions. The woman introduced herself as Madeira. Madeira it is then. "Pleasure is all mine, I suppose." Finally the woman seemed a bit less under control as she thrust her hand out momentarily to shake with his. Dex had his hand about halfway out to match hers when she suddenly reeled back from her physical introduction. Her following actions made it rather obvious that something was amiss in the little Craven's world, possibly when it came to Dex himself. Not that he really cared what other people thought of him. Most people anyway.

In some humor though, Dex got to watch Madeira cut up parts of the dress she had been wearing previously in order to make a rough bandage for her head. As much as Dex would have liked to just move on from her earlier action towards him something began to nag at him. People not liking him is one thing, but if a client doesn't then that's a whole new pile of trouble to follow. After finishing her home crafted bandage the Craven gave him instructions on what to do next to proceed.

More than happy to continue on with whatever the woman wanted to do Dex placed his rapier on the table, scabbard and all. But still, he couldn't get over that nagging. "Madeira, let's get something out of the way very quickly. If you have a problem with me I'm sure there are plenty of other people who can swing a sword in Alvadas. Otherwise..." He held out his hand to shake, intent on getting over whatever was bothering the woman about him. "There's going to have to be some mutual trust and understanding between us. If everything you say about this problem of yours is true."

"Humans are always such troubled creatures..."

[Madeira Dusk]

We Have Ghosts But Where Are The Ghouls?
90th of Fall
20th Bell

As Madeira looked down at the offered hand her face betrayed nothing. After perhaps a heartbeat of hesitation she reached out and shook it gently. His hand was warmer than she expected. Still, she saw his black tipped fingers wrapped almost halfway around the back of her hand. It was… creepy. But she understood his need to trust her, and did not flinch. When she let go she left dots of coagulating blood on his palm.

“About what you said before”, she began hesitantly. “He did best me. Quite badly. But I hope to come better armed this time. Though if he starts throwing things again, you best get out of the line of fire. There absolutely nothing I can do about that.” She sighed and looked up at him. “This is all about trust, right? Then let me tell you a secret. There is no magic wand I can wave to exorcize a ghost, no weapon that will send their soul to Dira. I have to look each one in the eye, and convince them to turn back from this life. Thats the great secret; we don't “slay” ghosts. A Spiritualist deals in suicide.”

She paused and rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

“I know that’s not what you want to hear. This isn’t an exact science and I don’t really have a ‘game plan’ because what we’re hunting doesn’t bleed and cant die. But even if I cant convince him to leave, simply stabbing” she points to his weapon “or shooting” she points to her crossbow on the other side of the table, “him will cause him to leave in pain or exhaustion if nothing else.”

“Now, I’m going to tell you exactly what I know about him and what you’re going to expect. But first lets get your weapon ready.”

She unsheathed the sword on the table and turned it in her hands. She truly wasn’t expecting it to be… pretty. the guard made an interact cage of lapping silver around the users hand, the handle was a veined black, and the blade shone dimly in the fading light. She had to remind herself that this was a killing weapon. One that’s probably seen plenty of blood before.

She laid the naked blade on the table and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. She could feel an invading coolness in her belly that signalled the soulmist was prepared.

“Ok. To make this useful against ghosts, we need to imbued it with soulmist. Soulmist is what ghosts are made out of. It’s their version of a body; what lets them interact with the world. Conversely, its also the only thing that can truly touch them.”

She held up a finger to pause her explanation, and then pressed her hands to her mouth. A shiver ran up her back as she pulled the prepared soulmist up from her gut. She made a wet, retching sound and pulled her hand away from her mouth. A wispy white substance poured from her lips and pooled in her cupped palms. It acted like a liquid but looked like a gas. Lazy trailing fingers of it reached upwards, emitting a faint glow.

She angled her hands towards him so he could see it.

“This is my soulmist. It’s essentially what my ghost would look like.” She knew magic was a seriously taboo topic in Alvadas, but Spiritualism was somewhat exempt from that particular social rule. She still watched him for discomfort as she continued.

She separated her hands so each held a portion, and slipped her right hand under the blade. The palm glided over the flat of the blade from hilt to tip, and she flipped the blade over to do the same on the other side. The soulmist leeched into the metal slowly, leaving no noticeable traces. Once that was don't she worked on the pommel, guard and grip. She worked slowly and methodically, making sure to cover every inch.

She put the last touches on his sword, and waited for the soulmist to absorb before sheathing the weapon and handing it back. With the rest of soulmist she lifted her hands and smeared it across her face and pushed a portion back down her throat. The momentary coolness felt great on her skin. But more importantly, now she could give the ghost the Lie. This ability might be useful.

Now that they were both armed, Madeira needed to tell him what they were up against. She dragged the wooden chair over to face her bed. She offered him the seat and sat herself on her feather mattress. She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, ever the proper lady.

“So, this is what I know about our ghost: He’s was a human male, well over six feet tall and well over two-hundred pounds. He’s been haunting the Crooked Playhouse for a little over a week, though that doesn’t mean much. It could be that he’s been there unseen for much longer. He’s a skilled possessor, and can throw things with force and accuracy. And he…” she paused, choosing her words carefully now that she was moving from the facts to speculations. “He doesn’t like singing. From anyone. Regardless of skill or song. I don't know why, but I have theories.”

She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “I suffered his possession and was able to look, briefly, through his mind. He’s insane, clearly, but he had a very unusual focus. Specifically he is very fixated on a particular woman. I don't know who she is. She could very well be dead. But whoever she is, she was very important to him. I haven't tested this out, but if she sang, I think he might calm down.” Her forehead wrinkled and she pinched the bridge of her nose again. “Maybe he just can’t stand the sound of anyone singing but her anymore. Maybe he was romantically involved with her. Maybe he stalked her. I don't really know. But I’m willing to bet he came back to this life for her.”

“I can make him believe that I’m her with Spiritualism”, she didn’t bother to explain how, hoping he could trust a bit in her abilities. “If I can draw him out as her, we might be able to attack and weaken him. That’s really… That’s really the only plan I’ve got. Insanity doesn’t make for predictable behaviour.”

[Dexius]

90th of Fall, 516 AV
20th Bell

Finally it seemed like the woman was going to trust him as the two clasped their hands together in a shake. Trust was an important thing in what he assumed was going to be a battle. She was going to have to rely on him just as much as he did her. When the two released their silent agreement Dex looked down and saw Madeira's blood, or at least what he thought was hers, now dotted his pale skin. Blood didn't really bother the Symenestra much, if it did then he was in the wrong profession in the first place.

Dex wiped the few droplets of blood on his pants and continued on with the affair ahead. He had seen far more blood in much worse places. Madeira went on about the ghost slinging items and the general idea behind killing ghosts. Not exactly fond of being barraged with anything, especially anything solid caused Dex let out a small sigh. But it was her explanation of how they were going to defeat the ghost that was the most unsettling to him.

As a fighter Dex was fully capable of removing somebody's life from this world in one way or another as long as the reason was correct. But causing somebody or something to commit suicide was not exactly something that was on top of his morals list. Then again, this being was not exactly friendly as far as Madeira had explained so he supposed he could treat it more like a hunt than anything else. A hunt for something that could throw objects across the room and potentially take over his body. Great.

"You're right, that's not what I want to hear. From what you said we can't go into this all willy nilly and expect to come out on top. We should go in with some sort of plan or strategy, charging in would likely put you back in the same situation or worse."

The plan seemed to start with his weapon apparently. Dex had never fought a ghost before but he figured he wouldn't be able to just walk up to it and cut it to pieces like anything else. But Madeira seemed pretty confidant in giving him the capability to do just that, a positive, for once. He watched the woman gaze over his weapon for a few moments before placing it back onto the table.

Dex got himself comfortable as Madeira began her speech about whatever soulmist was. Sounded kind of creepy to him. All of a sudden she began to vomit out a white fog like gas into her hands. The ordeal was less shocking and more disgusting than anything else, this was Alvadas after all.

He looked down at the mist in the woman's hands and was about to reach out and touch it for a moment but decided otherwise. A white gas, who would of thought that was what ghosts were actually made of? Dex touched his left hand to his chest for a moment. "So do all beings contain soulmist or just ghosts and people like the Cravens?"

Madeira slowly began to rub her mist into the various parts of his rapier. This caused Dex to cringe slightly, he knew she said it wouldn't do any harm to the blade but it was his life. He worked by that weapon and it worked by him, more of a partnership than an ownership at this point. Finally she had finished working on the blade and returned it to him.

Dex drew and looked over the blade meticulously just to make sure there was in fact no damage done to it. She would have paid for the repairs if there were any, but luckily for her there were none. This was all rather strange, even when talking about Alvadas. Most people in the city were rather elusive and hard to talk to but Madeira seemed to be the exact opposite. She was open to telling him just about everything that was relevant, he assumed everything at least.

After returning the rapier to it's scabbard and the scabbard to his waist he took a seat on the offered chair but flipped it around first and rested his elbows on the top of the back rest. It was nice to get to sit down on a job for once, most were not exactly this informative or relaxing, so far. And there was a lot of information to absorb about this ghost of hers he figured as Madeira went through explaining the final part of her last encounter.

Throwing things. Possessing things. Insane. Sounds about right up the Alvadas alley if he had ever heard of one. "So how can we use this woman as leverage against him? Sure he might come out to you if what you say is true but what about when i'm there? Will he react in a different manner or exactly as you explain?"

The more she explained her not-plan the more Dex was beginning to doubt the chance of success in this venture. He hated running in blind, a manner of speaking of course. But he was here to do the job so onward he would go into Dira's dark abyss. "Insanity? Find me a sane person in Alvadas. Predictability doesn't exactly come with the territory of the city."

Dex half jumped half flew up from his seat on the chair before getting up close to Madeira. He wanted to be eye to eye with the woman when he brought up this question. To be sure that her answer was one he could live with or at the very least not die with. "How will you keep me from getting possessed?"

[Madeira Dusk]

We Have Ghosts But Where Are The Gouls?
90th of Fall
20th Bell

Dexius surprised her by asking an earnest question about soulmist. She blinked twice, then settled in for another confusing explanation. He was touching his chest as he asked, and she wondered if there was deeper meaning to the question.  
 
"Well, yes... And no. See, everyone has a soul, right? And souls have layers, like a cake. I believe they’re three or four ‘parts’ to a soul, but we’re talking about the first one.” She laid her hands on top of each other to demonstrate what she meant. “While you’re alive, this layer-“ she wiggled the fingers of the hand on top “-is called the astral body. It’s what moves your body and interacts with the world. But when you die-“ she separated her hands “-your soul and your body separate, and your astral body changes. It becomes soulmist, which becomes your ghost’s body. So no, the living don't have soulmist. But with proper training, anyone could make soulmist while they’re alive. So… yes and no.”

* :

The lore is here. I'm not making this up, I swear

 
His criticisms of her plans were justified. How will he react to the red woman? How will he react to Dexius? Will he follow his same patterns, or will this time be different? But all the same her head fell into her hands and she spoke to her knees as she reiterated her points.
 
"I don’t know, I don’t know. He is insane. This is not normal madness. This isn't even Ionu madness, may He find better worship. This is... something else. I have no idea how your presence will affect him. Plan's are all well and good, but I guarantee that our carefully laid plots will fly right out the window when shyke gets real." It was a sign of just how stressed she was when the proper lady cursed in front of a stranger.
 
Dexius suddenly jumped from his chair without warning. Within the time it took for Madeira's already overtaxed heart to give a painful jolt he was crouched in front of her, all unnaturally long limbs and stringy black hair. Dull blue eyes met his strange vibrant amethyst, and the Spiritualist was almost flat on her back in her effort to cringe away from him. And in that moment, she hated herself. A strong woman wouldn't have flinched. But then again, a strong woman wouldn't have needed his help in the first place.
 
His eyes were searching hers for something. Trying to judge her truthfulness? Her sincerity? She put a hand on his chest and pushed him back an arms length as she straightened up, her face a careful mask. He wasn’t about to earn her trust by jumping at her.
 
"You can hear me just as well from over there." she said icily. But her expression softened as she addressed his concerns. He had every right to be horrified by the prospect. “I have soulbeads that will help. They're a circle of jade beads that makes an inaccessible barrier for ghosts. I left them at the theatre. Unfortunately, they're only about two feet across." She left the implication of that unsaid, but her mind was full of the screaming of doves. "If you are possessed, just remember that it will pass. He cant hold you forever. And I will make myself the bigger target. I'll sing, I'll call to him as his red-haired woman, I’ll threaten or bribe him with my soulmist. I'll get him out of you, whatever it takes… Before he lifts your sword and pokes me full of holes, of course.”
  
That being said, she suddenly drew back her hand and slapped him. The wisdom of assaulting the hired killer in her own home wasn't lost on her, but a statement needed to be made before they continued.
 
"And I am Craven, ward or not. You will keep a respectful distance."
 
Even knowing him for less than half a bell she knew he wouldn't be the kind of man to be cowed by a name. But the name was all she had. She had put as much bravado in her voice as she had dared, just the same.

She cleared her throat, continuing as if nothing had happened. No doubt she would suffer for that later.

"Ok, if we need plans, this is what we'll do: He will not show himself until someone sings. That I know for a fact to be true. So I will stand in the middle of the stage and sing, while I hide you away behind the soulbeads. With luck, I'll be possessed." She did her best not to show her anxiety at the thought. No need for Dexius to be more worried than he already was. "Please don’t stab me while I am possessed, no matter what I do. I’d leave my bow with you for this part. While possessed I'll take the opportunity to look for more information in his head about the red woman."
 
She punctuated the first part of her plan with a motion of her hand, to show time passing in the hypothetical plan.
 
"When I can eventually expel him, I'll try to use whatever I could glean to make myself the red woman. I'll flirt, or sing, or praise him. I don’t know yet. I'll do my best to keep him visible and to keep his focus on me. Then you can come out and lead an attack on his soulmist. At that point he might want to protect me. Or kill me. Either way he is caught between a skilled swordsman and a woman he has some very powerful feelings for. We can corner him and subdue him, I know it.”