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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 24, 2018 23:39:38 GMT -8
/[Florence]/ [dream state] The Red One hummed again, a long, droning tune that thrummed against the very coils of Florence's cortex. She might even be able to feel the organ flex from the sensation. "I cannot return one without all three. They are... bound..." For all its unnaturally tenors and thrumming tone, it sounded rather genuinely perplexed by the notion of being 'bound'. It didn't linger in that tone as it sighed and spoke on in its aphotic hum. "... If thou consume of thy blood, I can help thee return those souls. But without proper ritual... I cannot return them myself. Not without conduit or host." The hands drew themselves to her back, the blood pulling unnaturally towards it, though it remained yet unchanged in flow... A subtle tug of Florence's flow. The long gilded talons slid down her back, it lingered at her shoulders and to the bottom of her ribs. The blood being pulled along it as it lingered there, and fell lower to her waist where it paused again. "... Thou art not whole?"
"This does not seem... Fair." |
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Post by Vanitypirate on Nov 25, 2018 0:26:02 GMT -8
"I am... not." Florence confirmed stiffly with a grimace, though she found little to elaborate on. How could she teach Florentine culture to a being so unearthly?
She listened to the creature hum and tried not to picture his skeletal claws dipping through beyond the skin.
It seemed, perhaps, this was the only feasible way. It was Occam's Razor at its finest... though it did concern and disappoint her that the process was largely out of her hands.
"I will do as you ask."
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 25, 2018 0:41:45 GMT -8
/[Florence]/ [dream state] There was long, lingering silence where little more than the idle breeze tickled the ear-drums of Florence. The Shadow didn't shift, but the soft static noise that accompanied its voice spoke up with some amusement. "...Really?" It sighed happily, the winds died down and the sand seemed to rest as the clouds steadied. The realm as a whole seemed to soothe with the sigh, "Thou shalt sup upon thy blood, and become kind to me. From there, thou shalt seek blood... Seek souls, for me?" |
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Post by Vanitypirate on Nov 25, 2018 0:52:58 GMT -8
"How many souls will I seek...?"
It would be unwise to commit her own soul and indefinite life left to this Red Shadow. Though, conversely, she had not much life left to live...
Her expiry was fast approaching, and she had long since accepted this fact. Perhaps in this way she could spend the rest of it on something more worthwhile than her endless pursuits.
Truthfully, there was still much more she desired to see.
"Three?" Florence guessed.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 25, 2018 1:24:52 GMT -8
/[Florence]/ [dream state] "... Three, to trade." There was a pause, there was a soft click of bones tapping against one another as its robes swayed with the sound of water rushing to and fro in a stirred goblet of wine. "The souls must be a fair trade. Blood for Blood." It insisted, and the Red One moved to the side of Florence's periphery, its head wilting low enough to be seen by Florence; the ivory was yet unchanged and its robes were yet still red, despite the apparent and sudden blindness to the hue. Florence's head began to throb at the sight of the red, it was both alluring yet painful to look upon; the sting of alcohol, a rush of opium, the high of caffeine.
"I shalt guide thee to such souls I seek. Once we are of a kind." |
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Post by Vanitypirate on Nov 25, 2018 1:35:11 GMT -8
Florence tore her eyes away from the color immediately, even in spite of its allure-- not only of the pscyhomagical sort, but of the simple realization that this might be the only opportunity to observe the hue ever again. She would have liked to commit the image to memory.
The aversion to experience another of the magnificent pains of the head, however, trumped her sentimental desires.
"Please don't do this to me again..." She begged at a murmur, slapping her palms over her eyes.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 25, 2018 1:55:58 GMT -8
/[Florence]/ There was a humbled hum, like the sea at dusk as its tides fell away from the shore. The sound of shuffling feet bustling to their dorms, and books being shut and slotted upon library shelves. The shape lilted away as a fish might swerve from the shadow of man. "Please don't do this to me again..." It immitated and hummed again, as it shifted through the sands. A soft hiss of noise, "... Tu perniciosus"
"I will not." The hissing stopped and it hummed again, "Will you seek blood? Seek souls, greater souls, for me?"
"Three, for three? A fair trade?" |
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Post by Vanitypirate on Nov 25, 2018 2:21:42 GMT -8
"I will seek three, greater souls for you. It... i-is a fair trade." Florence confirmed defeatedly; her voice shook and she felt her eyes dampen under her hands at the memory she typically strived to avoid.
It brought her no joy to recall upon a time before she understood the true burden of the care of others.
Hesitantly, at the vague assurance of the Form, she glanced up and made to wipe her eyes, and to brave her surroundings once more.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 25, 2018 2:30:10 GMT -8
/[Florence]/ [dream state] "Good." Was all Florence heard as her hands wiped away the wetness of her eyes, the moment of darkness became eternal, as she awoke... [end dream state] \\ Florence's eyes would open to the dim darkness of the ceiling, the candle long burnt out, the cellar all but dark and alone; sans for a cloak, and an amulet left behind, resting still where Lekalis had torn it free from her neck. |
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Post by Vanitypirate on Nov 25, 2018 16:58:33 GMT -8
Florence did not need the light to know what she needed to do next.
She sat up swiftly and blinked around the room, determining that Lekalis had been long-gone as evidenced by the belongings he had left behind. And... for once, she was glad for it; it would be easier to proceed without having to explain it to an observer.
And it was to be a very crude procedure.
She dragged her bag over, sweeping those useless letters of Cross's to the side so as to at least not ruin them entirely. Nested at the very bottom was a steel-cornered, oaken box hitherto clasped shut by a buckle-- now she plucked it open to reveal the steel teeth of its inside.
Locating a simple, shiny scalpel, she roughly pushed up her sleeve to bare the pale skin just above her elbow.
It was a basic incision, not even surpassing the spongy-white dermis of the skin. The tension of the surrounding flesh held it open, and the resulting blood began to drool out from its walls, just as she needed.
She pressed the mouth of a small vial to the apex of it and collected the grey blood that trickled out.
Once she had somewhat of a sizeable amount, only a few milliliters before it began to clot, she tossed the fluid back into her mouth and swallowed quickly, before she could taste it.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 25, 2018 17:43:23 GMT -8
/[Florence]/
[the Red One]
There was hardly a breath had, a heartbeat struck, past the moment Florence let the blood touch her lips that a distant, whirling hum pulsed against her ears. She felt the sensory organ grow wet, as if she'd water in them.
"Excuse me."
Came a familiar, watery hum of the paracausal entity she'd only just been freed from. Though it seemed not to manifest in any means of this reality, there was a subtle red glow at the edge of her peripheries that occluded her sight.
"Thou hath proceeded well. We are of a Kind, now."
"Seek the sky, so thy might be guided yet."
\\
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Post by Vanitypirate on Nov 25, 2018 18:01:20 GMT -8
Florence tensed, fists curled into themselves as though bracing for an attack. And even after she heard the Red One's voice and identified him as such, there was still a spike in her pulse and an unease she felt deep in her bones.
She felt the blood trickle down her arm; it was just a small rivulet. Allowing it to bleed freely, she pushed her sleeve down and stood up.
On to the stairs, then up the trapdoor... she hardly registered the small trek.
She pushed it open and let the moonlight in as she looked up to the sky.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 25, 2018 18:24:04 GMT -8
/[Florence]/
[the Red One]
"It is beautiful."
The Red One remarked, and for a time... nothing happened.
"Each blinking light... so full of mystery and splendor. Know not their truth."
It sighed and the blood in her cut arm seemed to rush to the top of her skin, as if drawn forth by the moon, before subsiding in the wake of a phantasmal gilded and skeletal arm. Its appearance was phantasmal, its shape ectoplasmic in the way she could see clean through it.
"In time, thou shalt see designs of those who... are...Tu perniciosus"
"For now... a glimpse."
The skeletal hand pointed to a single star, and then to another; a string of red bound the two stars together. Again, and again, the hand pointed to star upon star, a string that wound and wound, but never ran over itself; t'ill it pointed to a star that was hued in subtle blue tones, in the Northwest most quadrant of the night sky.
"Thy kind hath proclaimed it The Speechless Deep. It rests in waters far, and fat. At the end of a foggy pier, in the corpse of a floating fortress."
As the gilded hand fell away and melded with Florence's arm once again, the string stayed in the dark sky; pulsing like the veins of Lekalis had when she'd put the amulet on. The string lingered and stood in stark contrast to the dark sky, but it did not shine through clouds or rooves.
A bloody constellation.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Nov 25, 2018 18:35:34 GMT -8
Florence veritably flinched at the gust of cold air that brushed her face and left it stinging; she could not remember the last she had felt such a sensation, without the proper bulwark of a mask. The idle breeze chilled her skin and tugged at her hair.
She ran her pale hand through her grease-slicked locks and frowned up at the stars, a map she could understand but not read.
"How am I meant to capture this... 'Speechless Deep's soul?"
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Nov 25, 2018 18:48:54 GMT -8
/[Florence]/
[the Red One]
"Slay it."
It said simply, as if Florence might know where to begin; there was a hum, a sooth like an ocean turning in the night, before it sighed in some small realization.
"Drink of it, as thy did of thyself... Perhaps, not... raw."
A shifting of the waters, as if it turned and paused in thought,
"It is... of slime, and corrosion."
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