The makings of a monster

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Noemi Michaux
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Re: The makings of a monster

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Reichard...

It was not an uncommon name where she was from, she had known many who bore it though none that stood out singularly in her memories. Somehow the way the spirit had shared it told her she should know it somehow. As if he expected her to. That was frustrating in itself because Death knew spirits were loopy. For all the Necromancer knew this Reichard had mistaken her for his long lost puppy and simply needed a cuddle.

He hadn't been lying when he said more were coming..

Noemi continued her walk down the still semi busy streets, shoppes still open for business at this hour, calling upon those who were off late work and needed to make purchases before heading home. On her way to a local jeweler, she had need of some expendable gold workings, so it was becoming more obvious that there were spirits -everywhere- that hadn't been so noticeable a few weeks ago. And they all seemed focused on her.

Wonderment.

Thus far the shades had kept a slight distance as if gauging her, hoping that she would initiate contact she supposed... they had eternity to wait because that wasn't happening. Instead the Necromancer had slipped into a narrow alley filled with nothing but rubbish, rats and spirits and opened herself up before walking purposefully into a spectre. She felt her energy go through the roof as she absorbed the shade, the rush powerful enough to cause her to stagger slightly and need the building for support.

She'd never not enjoy that...

The added benefit was even better, the spirits were keeping their distance now, their progressive movements to get close to her ceased and now they just followed or winked out of sight all together.

Noemi wondered if when alone she might start asking about this Reichard. Surely if she lured them at her convenience, one of the addled might not be so Muppet and be of help. She wasn't ready to try and find him yet, she wanted answers that had a better chance of truth, Death was a manipulator after all... just look at vampires if you had any doubts.

It still niggled at the back of her mind... something... she just couldn't quite place it. And she really needed to find the cause of this sudden rise in activity of shades around her. So directed, Noemi stepped into the jewelers to make her purchases, planning on finding an antique book dealer that might be of service.

As the Necromancer turned from the register with her purchases, there hadn't been a queue or another customer in the shoppe so her time was quickly compensated, she thought she caught a glimpse of a shadow against the wall... a fedora wearing shadow...

Oui... she needed to find that bookstore -now-.
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Re: The makings of a monster

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She felt him again. Reichard. He was unable to go corporeal obviously but he was there, glimmers of shadow that slipped behind her wherever she went. It seemed he really was applying for a position because the influx of dead had mellowed to manageable , the only changing factor was his presence.

Noemi didn't trust him for a minute.

Finishing her task, writing down everything she remembered from Hantu, journaling it, noting the differences in her skills as she went over and over the exercises he gave her. Until she felt physically raw. Wounded. Almost dead.

Faded...

The Necromancer brought her hand up to look at it in the light. The pale skin was almost translucent as it always was unless she fed well. Frowning she leaned back and pondered the issue... surely there were ways to overcome that, she had seen other Necromancers like Jed and they maintained human... perhaps she should ask him...

She would send an email, she had no desire to interrupt his own goings on, he was one in the family she respected.

Finally done with her meticulous note taking, she stood from her desk and gathered up the print outs from the properties for sale off crownet, and gathered her jacket to shield against the cold. She needed an office space, not for business, but for her studies and her laboratory. Wanting to see the areas and the buildings before narrowing things down, she left her cozy rooms and headed outside.

Noemi continued to ignore the shade following her, the shadow playing against the dark bricks of the buildings she passed. She knew not to waste her breath trying to communicate with him until he had gathered up enough energy to make a coherent reply. The Necromancer pondered heading over to the Daughters of the triple moon's temple, since joining it had become one of her favourite places to sit in silence... and with mental nod she decided she would go after these errands.

"No eh meee..."

The drawl of her name stopped her cold and she looked around herself, at first figuring it was Reichard finally able to speak, but then realizing his shade was crouched down low against the wall of an alley as if ready to spring into attack.

That didn't bode well, and Noemi was no fool. She took the spirits silent warning and turned, running back the way she had come, sanctuary...

Bullets only worked on solid things. And if a fight was to ensue, damned if this Necromancer was getting caught with her trousers down in public, this would be done in private.

Slamming back inside the lair, she wasted no time dashing back to her quarters and raising her hands to cast...

oui... come...
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Re: The makings of a monster

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Cold gusts of air tossed her hair madly around her face, the room's light turning the obsidian locks into inky waves of fluid. Shadows gathered behind her, coalescing into this existence though still just flickers of black against the darkened walls. The dead watching in silence, headed by Reichard as his own shape became distinct against the blur of the curious others.

The Necromancer raised her outspread fingers palms forward, her mind envisioning gripping the well of death inside her pulling it toward her digits in a cold white flow. She felt rather than saw something moving down the stairs toward her rooms, it was like the lights inside her mental vision were flicking out one by one. Leaving her in darkness even though the room hadn't changed at all.

Shadow welled and filled her senses, so complete it felt like she was falling into a never ending void. Struggling to control the panic that arose from the sudden loss of heightened senses, Noemi brought her foot down in a bone jarring stomp, rocking through her as she growled "Enough!"

In small increments the oil slick in her mind began to recede as the presence on the stairs now hovered at her door, menacing, an aura of terror continuing to suffocate the struggling caster. Noemi pushed her mental hands even deeper into herself, frantically working to open the floodgates in her, to fully release that which she so carefully controlled... a final twist and the Necromancer felt herself burned by fire so cold it was like being eaten alive from the inside out. The rush of it kept her arched and in silence, a frozen scream clenching the lines of her jaw as her gums throbbed with the sudden advent of elongated fangs...

Fight or flight...

"No ehhhhhh me..."

Something slithered against her back, and before that scream could finally come Noemi knew it was Reichard lending himself to her... she wasn't alone...

Laughter filled the room then, the ominous presence surged as it enjoyed its effect upon her, delighting in the mental fight she was giving... obviously leaving it unperturbed much to her consternation...
"It is Lothar..." Reichard whispered into her mind, and Noemi now knew she was dealing with a wraith.

The vampire in her nightmares.

A final burst of laughter and menace met the revelation, as if that was what it had been waiting for... and she felt her head explode into pain as she dropped to her knees grabbing at her temples, all of the pain from those dreams becoming one shooting agony. Noemi knew her haunted sleep had just begun...

The wraiths fading laughter was the last thing to leave the room, the once comfortable space feeling alien and hostile as even the spirits abandoned it, fleeing to wherever such things vanished to. All but Reichard who remain hovered against her until she could push herself from the floor, her nose bleeding in a steady line down her face until she swiped at it with the back of her hand, smearing it beautifully over incredibly pale skin.

She was never going to sleep again...
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Re: The makings of a monster

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Re: The makings of a monster

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There was no way to find who he had been. As a human he had been one of the horde, a soldier... a leader yes, but one of many. As a vampire it would be impossible as the masquerade kept things hushed. Noemi found that an amazing thing in itself really, that they stayed hidden for so long before the holocaust.

Vampire tended to turn the best and brightest, shiny people... well they used to. In such, keeping the talented, brilliant, beautiful, brutal to the shadows must have required overwhelming fear tactics.

Small circles or courts were the way she imagined... those leading relegated areas could shine amongst their own kind, allowing courts that would either be amazing in talent and delights, or dark, lording it over the underworld. Noemi imagined that was how it was supposed to be now.

Closing the book she had brought in from the piles of tomes and pages her Sire kept about in the lair, the raven haired vampress rubbed her thumb between her brows as she went over options for her search. She had tried to speak to Reichard, finally asking in a blunt no nonsense way, "Who is Lothar?" but the spirit seemed to shrink into itself becoming nothing more than a ghost light, dark orb.

She had ignored him since.

The French woman understood fear kept her spirit from loosing his proverbial tongue, and also understood the way to get her answers was to make him desperate enough that answering her outweighed the fear.

So far it had been working. Reichard hovered about her, clearly in distress though polite and quiet... the feelings emanating off the shade were becoming intense. Underneath it was a strange pulse that Noemi had a difficult time wrapping her mind around.

Love.

Reichard clearly felt love for her. The why of it was beyond her ken, he had told her he could not tell her more about himself for the time. Leaving her with yet more questions than answers. All the Necromancer could come up with is perhaps a relative of hers.. or her mother had contained more depth and interest than Noemi knew of.

Whatever it was this was becoming a waking nightmare, one shade that felt strongly for her, enough to help her manage the onslaught of spirits that were gathering around her nightly, and a wraith that clearly wanted something from her...

"Reichard, let one pass." she said quietly, the only communication she had with the shade. She had begun to understand if she did not appear to be helping the dark masses, they became agitated and started doing things that were downright unpleasant to gain her attention. So she had compromised. She would listen to one a night. Thus far she had been unable to help them, their tragedies long since gone, no one for her to pass a message to. Noemi's cold nature was a buffer against it, she really just didn't care either way. Everyone had a sob story. Tragedies came in all sizes but really, what she gauged as a bugger all would be insurmountable or shrug worthy to another.

It was all in the strength of will of the viewer.

Her spirit was quite solid today, dapper in his death clothes, handsome features regal and fine... and very similar to her own. Reichard merged into the mass of black against the wall, disappearing into the embraces of many shadow arms for a few minutes before returning, pulling out of the darkness leading an older woman.

Noemi raised her brow and leaned back in her chair, her fingers laced under her chin as she waited to hear what would probably amount to nothing more than the old one had forgotten to tell billybob and suzie q where she hid her pittance of a life savings. Reichard swept the woman courteously toward the Necromancer and then stepped back allowing the ladies to converse.

She could feel the spirits receding, her choice having been made for the night and knew her rooms were sanctuary again... should she leave however, they were everywhere. Many strong enough that she was unable to tell they were dead at a glance, until she 'felt' them out. Noemi crossed her leather clad legs, the black trousers painted on yet organic enough that they had pull as she moved, like the second skin they were, and cleared her throat...

"Go on le vieux, you have my ear."

The elderly woman began to wring her hands, continuing to look at the floor rather than the Fadewalker before her, but finally her soft voice sounded in Noemi's mind.

"Merci ma dame." she began and Noemi leaned forward with interest now as the shade spoke her native tongue. Granted it was the off kilter Canadian version, but it still sounded sweeter than the most beautiful of operas to her desperate for culture ears. The elder woman continued, no English marring their exchange.

"My life was collecting Icons, small religious portraits from the dawn of the middle ages through the regency period. From Russia through France..." the spirit paused there, clearly unused to going into such details. After a few moments she gathered herself, her small slim figure smartly dressed in a black dress with white lace collar, hair piled in a mid bun of silver white. Her posture was sure even as she continued to view the floor where her black kitten heeled shoes gleamed with care, her only adornment the strand of pearls around her neck... no wedding ring or other such jewelry to tell a story of her... and that in itself was telling.

"I had no children, no relatives outside of France, I came to Canada to be left to my collectings. My home has gone to shambles and no one has realized I am dead."

That got a response from Noemi, "Do you know how much time has passed since your death le vieux?" the elder woman must have lived somewhere on the edges of the city, cordoned off from the rest of the world with her artwork. "I am aware also what Icons are... what is it you want of me?" she asked the woman with quick efficiency.

The ghost looked up then, her eyes gone leaving pools of black in the hollow sockets, her crimson red lips pulled down in frustration... she had been handsome in life, but a horror in death, those pools of black where her eyes should be weeped blood, the wounds eternal now...

"Not a year ma dame. My lifes work... is safe, packed away from the elements that could ruin them. Please... find me. Find them..."

Finally the spirit was spent, her form beginning to waver and glow transparent, making her now one of the creepiest things someone not used to it could see. Noemi was sure there were humans out there that would piss themselves upon her arrival.

Noemi decided she liked her.

"I shall find these things old one. Tell me your name."

The Necromancer felt a sigh of relief deep inside her chest and mind, the sound palpable and releasing. Clearly the shade had expected to be told no.

"Soshay Merchan" and then the shade was gone.
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Re: The makings of a monster

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Noemi stepped out of her car, her feet making soft crunching sounds on the dirt and gravel drive. Having decided to help Soshay the Necromancer had donned black hiking boots, jeans and hunter sweater... treasure hunting for the dead was never clean.

It was obvious from the moment she left the warmth of her vehicle that she had made the correct wardrobe choice, the small house on the outskirts of town sat alone in a heavily wooded plot. Noemi could barely make out the house even this close, the trees and shadows covering the small bump of a building more than any camouflage ever could.

And she could swear she heard wolves.

Unafraid of the pack animals, but not wishing to take time out of the few hours she had allotted for the task, she made her way to the home at a brisk pace. Reichard walked beside her, he was gaining strength every night, completely solid in appearance to her, it was like strolling with a comforting companion.

"Noemi, the wolves are close." he stated simply and she wondered if he understood yet fully the vampire. If he had he would know her senses had already alerted her. Though the warning was unnecessary it was loyal and she inclined her head without speaking, leaving him the illusion he had aided her.

The house was small, a craftsman build that was probably most handsome in its day. It was at least a century old, built in the early 1900's. A baby by Noemi's European standards. It was dark enough that she could not make out the colour of it, it seemed a dirty white with dark contrasting elements, the front porch bowing toward the two main brick pillars that marked the houses architecture style. The windows were still intact, she was sure the pack of wolves that claimed this area deterred anyone wanting to squat here, and the heavy front door was closed tight.

It looked like every cliche of a horror movie haunt.

"Reichard, go in and see if it's clear please. Merci." she spoke softly in French without turning her piercing green gaze from the door, and she felt rather than saw him leave her side, vanishing into the depths of the dwelling.

The wolves were circling.

Noemi moved up the short stairway to the dilapidated porch, careful to step in areas that were not buckling, ivy and weeds choked most of the structure as the home fell back into nature. She opened the door but waited for Reichard, she knew he would be thorough. For whatever reasons he kept close to his chest he felt strongly for her, her safety had been proven a priority for him.

It was an oddness Noemi was unused to. Loyalty toward her. That had suited her purposes for most of her life, wanting nothing more than to go unnoticed and left alone by her family... but now it was becoming something she craved. Her Sire had explained to her that her feelings and personality when human would become over exaggerated in death, as if making up for the fact she was no longer amongst the living. In her case this meant she was twice as cold, ever calculating, monstrous... but it also meant the hidden desires she had ignored in life were floating to the surface. The need for companionship, loyalty, beauty...

It also assured she made a desirable Childe to her Sire without any effort from her.

Pulling her from her pensive musings, Reichard walked from the entry toward her, the yawning darkness of the home releasing him back to her. "There is nothing worrisome cheri, aside from having to watch your step. Nothing has been touched, all of Soshay's belongings are as they were."

Noemi nodded and stepped into the house, the rank scent of death and decay... mold and natural rot assaulted her heightened senses, pressing against her like an aura of death. "Did you find her shell?" she asked while letting her gaze adjust to the darkness, pulling a lantern from her coat pocket and turning it on. The flashlight cut into the room with difficulty, turning everything into a black and white noire film.

"Non cheri, but she had told us she was sure she had collapsed in the vault downstairs."

Then that was where the Fadewalker needed to be.
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Re: The makings of a monster

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Darkness was complete toward the back of the dilapidated craftsman, ivy and other vegetation choking the windows like dense green curtains. Noemi's lantern barely made headway as she moved cautiously through the hall towards the sitting room. Cobwebs lay vacant, too cold for the spiders that had moved in, but still catching insects less offended by frost. Drapes of the stuff parted with a sweep of her hand, a shake and the awful feeling it left against her skin was gone.

Reichard had no such issues, just gliding along ahead of her without disturbing anything residing in the physical. He paused and turned, his handsome features dressed in a bland expression while pointing ahead of himself toward a yawning darkness in the dust blanketed wood floor.

Noemi stepped forward and looked at the gaping and ragged hole, it looked as if someone had dropped a five ton weight from the roof and it had crashed through the floor to the basement below. Swinging her flashlight back and forth she tried in vain to see what lay below. She could make out the subfloor beneath the once beautiful oak floor she stood upon now, and her brows locked together in surprise. It was made of reinforced metal of some sort, cement and rebar... then it made sense to her, they were directly above Soshay's vault. Someone or something had broken through the floor to get inside...

For antique Icons?

Noemi knew the classical artist renderings of saints could fetch a pretty penny, but hardly enough to constitute such lengths. There would have to be something of greater value down there.. though obviously it would be long gone by now. Who would do such? And was Soshay sure she had just collapsed, or was there something far more nefarious to explain her death?

Intrigued now, the Necromancers attention was completely caught in the budding mystery, her circling thoughts interrupted finally by Reichard's soft and patient tone. "Noemi, we should get down there quickly, I'm afraid for you on this floor now... can you hear the creaking?"

Sure enough the Fadewalker opened her senses and she could hear her weight making the floor groan, sounds of small crackings and bending assailed her ears and she knew that if her own slight weight were causing such burden this floor would not hold up much longer.

Noemi nodded to her shade, extending her arm in a 'lead the way' motion so she would not lose the sounds of the wood planking, focused on how she was to step by the groans beneath. Reichard turned and walked forward, headed toward the back again where traditionally the kitchen would be housed. These type homes rarely deviated from the masterplan unless remodeled, and that certainly wasn't the case here.

The pair passed through the sitting room, furniture decaying at alarming rates, beautiful pieces of Chippendale once showcased now left to rot. It bothered even Noemi to leave such to this elephants graveyard.. but it could not be helped.

As the kitchen spread before them, the usual square room with sink beneath a clogged window, cabinets of handcrafted wood though warped now with age and water... she noted the water damage coming from the cracks in the ceiling, dripping down now moldy walls to pool upon countertops and black and white tiled floor. Had she been human she would have run screaming for a hazmat suit, but as it stood she was quite grateful breathing was a thing of the past.

Noemi reached the back wall and as expected the door to the basement was there, on cue. It hung half off of its hinges, drooping against the wall like a child unable to play anymore, its usefulness at an end. She looked then to Reichard as she held her lantern up, his face scowling as he looked into the darkness... winking suddenly gone with a startled sound as a flood of rats came racing up the stairs and over the Necromancers feet.

Barely containing a yelp herself, Noemi too jumped back, slamming her hip into the counter behind her hard enough that her teeth clicked together with force enough to taste blood. Quickly clambering up onto the counter, ignoring the momentary pain, the Fadewalker waited for plagues army to dwindle.

Reichard rematerialized on the counter beside her looking sheepishly toward the ground... it suddenly struck her as amusing and she began to softly laugh, the image he presented causing her to open up and let out gales of it before a minute had past, the hilarity of a ghost fleeing rats enough to toss her head back and roar.

Poor Reichard...

He looked so damn put upon.
Noemi Michaux Dangeau - Childe of Ambrose - House Acheron
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Re: The makings of a monster

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It was little more than a root cellar really, though thankfully with more headroom. The basement looked as if it had been dug out of the ground as an afterthought, which to Noemi made no sense, she was aware that basements were common enough with craftsman houses. It was however twice as big as she would have expected and as she swung her torch around the dirt walls decided it had been continuously expanded upon from the original without adding walls to the root encrusted shale and earth.

Adding to that oddness the ground was in several places scattered about the room freshly turned. Was Soshay wanting to dig down even further? Or had whoever destroyed the floor above her been looking for something that wasn't in the vault?

Speaking of vaults, Noemi watched Reichard for a moment as he glided about the perimeter, finally stopping at a corner that was encased in shadow. "Noemi, here." he simply said, stepping back and looking toward her. His handsome features seemed creased with worry and his shoulders were set in such a way Noemi knew he was tense and alert.

The musty earth scent grew stronger as she moved carefully around the overturned ground toward the spirit and it wasn't until she had almost reached him that she suddenly realized he was the only shade she had seen anywhere on this property... Turning again and swinging her flashlight, she opened herself mentally and tried to see if perhaps they were just being reticent, quiet... but no, there was nothing.

Nothing but the sound of the wolves calling out in the yard above her...

She needed to hurry.

Focusing her attention back to the task at hand she closed the distance to her spirit and met the oddness he stood before. Sunk deep into the earth wall was a 6 by 9 area of concrete housing a stout metal door. The door was cracked open and the necromancer could see that it was about a foot thick with very modern locking mechanisms set in the bolting system...

Soshay must have been a little bit mad...

Shaking her head she gently pushed her shoulder against the door, swinging it open, slanting her light into the cavern that revealed itself to her. It was no vault, it was an underground cave system. Noemi was now rethinking her decision to aid the old one, this was just too off... everything about it..

"Reichard" she began as he moved to enter the cave first. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, his expression serious and laced with concern. "Everything about this isn't just odd to me is it?" The fadewalker didn't know if she were wanting the answer or was just stalling, but the shade moved closer to her and lay a ghostly hand upon her arm even though she could feel nothing of it.

"Let's just find Soshay and leave. Quickly cheri." he said baldly, his French hinting at the provincial, as if he grew in the country before moving to a more urban setting. Noemi nodded and sucked in a breath, the wolves howling getting closer, echoing through the caverns before her as if they were somewhere in there rather than above them.

Stepping through the door the air condensed and felt far colder than the room behind her, and the damp was almost unbearable had she been human. How did an elderly and fragile woman stand it?

She supposed she was about to find out...
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