rain rain, go away [micah]

[Nishaa]

The rain danced atop Nishaa’s raven tipped hair. The droplets settled there. Hiding in the strands of her hair as she walked through the streets of Harper Rock. She had no set destination in mind, her mind boggled with various things. She didn’t know how to keep all these feelings and emotions at bay, the woman missed Zoe. She missed seeing Every all the time now that she was caught up with her other childer. She rarely saw family. Heck, she missed even Shan’s company. The woman had a spark Nishaa liked. Niagra -- her real name – had her bag slung over her shoulder it contained various things, hunter’s charms from the pesky paladins in the sewers, Black Feral Blood she had been saving for Velveteen and Micah. Even a few Fadeling Corpses. She hoarded many different things.

She took a meandering left into a street that led up to Cherrydale. Her eyes looked up at the Eyrie. A building who knew Micah, Velveteen and Every resided most of the time. She admired it’s awkwardly shaped branches. A treehouse a home to many vampires here, it was such an odd thing but yet she still seemed to stare at the bark in awe. She was struck by it’s magnificence. She did once day want to step inside it. When that day might be, she’d never know. She did tell Velveteen she wanted to help out with things. She remembered that memory so well.

Nishaa didn’t know what she was supposed to do with her immortality; at the beginning she loved it. She was a rebel, she was sure Micah disliked her with a passion, even Every. She had her hands full when she sired the psychopath. Now as immortality went on Nishaa had simmered down to a low heat, she wasn’t rebellious in fact she was quite the opposite she had become helpful. She gathered things for a set amount of people. She even helped those who needed Necormancy things. Healed people in passing, and random people she didn’t know. She had become the Good Samaritan. She had read the story in the bible as a child, she had been curious how one man could be so helpful. Yet it seemed she was doing god’s work healing others, when she knew she was doing nothing of the sort.

Nishaa believed she was the devil’s daughter. She killed her family for a taste of immortal life; she assumed at her turning that this was it. This was life, this was her bloody reward. Yet it wasn’t. Her palmed outstretched her fingers spread wide as she blinked at her hands, in that moment she saw the blood dripping from her fingers and then cast her eyes up to her brother’s face, the look on his face as she drove the dagger through his belly, ripping through his intestines as she turned the knife and grinned. Yet now she was horrified she took a step back, further and further until she hit the wall, she moaned shaking her hands over and over until the image disappeared from her mind and the blood was gone.

Nishaa felt nothing but guilt now, for what she had done to her family. She had torn it apart.

[Micah]

The sound of metal hitting metal signified the lockbox closing. A pen scratched against paper, making a note of the contents that were inside. Micah knew that his hoarding of various ritual items was starting to get more than a little out of control but more often than not that habit had saved his *** a time for two. Some items he had more than what could be considered logical - who needed one hundred and ten broken mirrors after all? He frowned and added a notation in the margin of the notebook that simple read sell half, with an arrow pointed to the amount of mirrors. Those were relatively easy to get and didn’t get used all that often.

Moving on to the next box he opened it and smirked a bit at how empty it was. Shocking that a single lockbox could have so few items in it especially with him around. But it would be a good place to store items that they were extremely low on. Boxes of electronics, nuts and bolts, things like that. Another note was made on the paper and he closed the box, tossing the notebook onto the bed. He needed to go on a thieving run not just to stock up on certain things but Vel had given him a list.

As he stepped outside the first thing he noticed was that it was raining. The path that lined the Eyrie was dark, the fire that normally burned by the gates had been snuffed out by the downpour that the city was currently experiencing. The lack of fire gave the tree a slightly sinister look and it all but screamed stay the **** away.

A chance look had his gaze drawn to a figure hovering nearby, back against the wall. Obviously whoever it was wasn’t put off by the weather, or the creepiness of the treehouse that rose high above the city. His feet propelled him forward and he got a good look at the figure. Nishaa. Every’s childe and his grandchilde. What could have possibly brought her here in this kind of weather?

When he had first met Nishaa he hadn’t liked her. She rubbed him the wrong way and every word she spoke grated in his nerves. But before too long she had grown on him. Micah had grown to appreciate her wit and the way she spoke her mind, telling it like it was. It was that particular trait that had won him over and now he was rather fond of the young necromancer. As he drew closer he noticed that something was off about her. Her hands were shaking and she seemed to be staring at nothing but air. “Nish? What are you doing here?”

[Nishaa]

Nishaa stood in the rain, staring at her idle hands for a while – a crack of thunder filled the sky before she finally came to her senses her paralysis lifted and her eyes found Micah in front of her. She gave him a look, a wary one. How long had she been standing then, her eyes lifted to the sky the clouds were grey, bleak and dull but it wasn’t sunrise yet so he wasn’t coming to make sure she hadn’t been burned. She rubbed at her chin then before breathing, showing signs of life.

“I don’t know.”

Came her honest answer, she had been walking. She had no destination in mind, Every was busy. She didn’t know her siblings. Everyone really was busy, she had no friends. She only trained. She didn’t connect with people. She didn’t really have a purpose either. It was just killing, hoarding items and giving whatever she hoarded away. Was Micah a friend? Probably. So make that two friends, if you count Every. Zoe was her friend, she was sure. She was dead. Just like anyone she got close to, they died. The true death.

“You don’t want to be my friend, you’ll end up dying the true death.”

She blurted out, pushed out a shaky hand. As if to warn Micah away. She knew Micah was a hard ******** to kill, he lost his temper quite quickly from what she could tell on the family CrowNet. She liked that about him, his ability to not hide his temper, it was a trait she had as well. She told **** how it was, she wasn’t afraid of the consequences. If she thought you were hot, she’d tell you.

“Ignore me, it’s been a strange night.”

She said then, laughing at herself more or less, as she ran a hand through her soaking wet hair. The drops fell onto the ground, adding to the puddles that were scattered around them. She checked her hands again, but no blood remained. Then she peered around the duo looking for the ghostly image of her brother and saw nothing. Where had that sprung from? The guilt she felt moments ago had resided and she could think clearly.

[Micah]

He was...concerned, for lack of a better word or maybe there wasn’t. She didn’t know? How could she not know? First off it was storming something fierce and Nish was just standing there staring at nothing. How could he not be worried about her? Though, for all he knew this could be normal behavior for the girl. It wasn’t as if he knew her that well but that was his fault as much as hers. She was speaking though, so she had to be alright...maybe. It wasn’t so much her words as her actions. Nish just wasn’t acting like the girl he knew her to be from the way she acted on the family CrowNet.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” Her words caught him off guard and he found himself speechless. Why would he not want to be her friend? Though if he was honest with himself he didn’t have friends. He had acquaintances, people that he interacted with every so often but in no way would he classify them as his friends. He was too much of a dick to have friends and he trusted no one but a very select few. It was just safer that way.

Micah glanced at her hand then looked back up to her face his brow furrowed in obvious concern. “Yeah no I’m not going to do that. I’m not just going to ignore the **** you’re saying right now. Pretty sure you ain’t yourself but I can tell you now, I ain’t gonna let this go.” Could be that she was just having an off night but he wasn’t going to take the chance. Besides Eve would kill him if he let Nish go without getting to the bottom of what was going on with her.

“First things you need to get out of the rain. Can’t let you in the Eyrie but the farm isn’t too far from here. I was heading that way anyways, need some plants for a couple rituals.” He started walking, moving in closer to his grandchilde with each step. When he was close enough he reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist. The option to walk away was no longer open to her. “You can come with me.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command. She’d either follow him or he’d drag her. Either way he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

[Nishaa]

Nishaa had always been odd, she had this way with people – she had no social etiquette she usually said what came to mind and left it at that. It got her to this point in her life, heck – it got her sired by Every. The woman whom she looked up to, but also regretted not speaking to often enough as she liked. Every was a busy woman, and Nishaa liked to hoard things – sometimes she’d pick up watches, or even take a cheap golden bracelet from a random gangster off the street and stuff them in her studded shoulder bag. Never regretting the items and random trinkets she had stolen, or acquired through other means. Yet – now as she looked at Micah, her raven black hair the shade of the night sky dripped onto her shirt. Her eyeliner that had been carefully drawn on was now halfway down her cheeks, leaving black smudges. She looked like a drowned rat, and she bloody felt like one.

“I said.”
She paused to make sure her grandsire was following her.
“You don’t want to be my friend.”

How did she even know they –were- friends? What did you even class as a friend? Nishaa didn’t have them she was sure Zoe hated her, which is why she was dead – Every didn’t talk to her much, busy with other things. That left Micah. She didn’t know him well enough but somehow he managed to come across her. Did he feel her nearby? Was that a grandsire thing? She didn’t know.

Micah spoke then his voice was one of those voices you couldn’t ignore. You couldn’t just look away from him and move on – no, it had an authority. It was the type of authority that compelled Nishaa to comply with his command, was that because his blood was within her? It was so strong. Nishaa found herself following Micah to his farm. Her dark orbs looked back to the treehouse, memorized by its height, and structure before looking back to Micah, as she stared at his back.

“Did I, or Evee ever tell you I killed my brother?” She said. The way she spoke the words made it come across as something you tell someone upon a first meeting. She didn’t care it wasn’t a secret. It was better to not keep secrets, lest they hurt you later on in life. Better to avoid that hurdle altogether.

[Micah]

“Don’t think you should be telling me what I want and do not want grandchilde.” That tone again. The one that suggested he meant business, which he did. Especially now. He refused to drop her wrist as he walked, paying no attention to the torrential downpour that soaked through his clothes in seconds. None of that was important to him. Micah glanced over his shoulder just as the lightening flashed, lighting up the sky like someone had decided to shine a floodlight on them. He noticed her face, the way her cheeks were streaked with black from her makeup. Like she was wearing some kind of Halloween costume.

It pained him in a way as he realized he barely knew this girl who had been a member of his family for just about a year. It was his own fault and he knew it. He didn’t like to bother people and preferred to let everyone go on their own, but making sure that they knew they could come to him with anything. It was better that way. Wasn’t it? It wasn’t something he’d ever given too much thought to before now. Maybe he should be setting a better example. They were his responsibility. He should be making the effort to reach out to them to get to know them but he just didn’t. That really needed to change.

The farm appeared in front of them, just a small outline he could barely make out through the rain. If she thought that her words were going to shock him she was sorely mistaken. They didn’t even slow him down. “Is that so?” It was a casual question, one that he really didn’t expect an answer to.

Micah pushed the gate open with one hand and finally dropped her wrist. She wasn’t going to go anywhere by now. She probably knew he’d just hunt her down and drag her back. Or he could summon her too. Either worked. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys and after selecting to correct one he put the key in the lock and unlocked the door, pushing it open and waving her to go in ahead of him. “Is that what you’re thinking about tonight? Your brother?”

[Nishaa]

Micah meant business you could hear it in tone, and the way he called her grandchilde – he never called her grandchilde, it was usually Nishaa, or Nish – Nishie, she thought. Or was that Every? She didn’t remember. Everyone had their own unique nicknames with Nishaa. Micah included, in this occasion he was fondly, yet aptly named Grandpa – he didn’t mind being called that. She didn’t see anyone else calling him that either, just showed out of everyone in Andras Nishaa seemed to have bigger balls than most of the ‘men’ there. Funny that. The butch dyke had more balls than most men, vampire or human alike.

The lightening crashed against the sky – it zig zagged across the dark grey clouds above their heads as the rain began to fall, crashing against her attire, her boots and Micah. She could tell he was wet, but he didn’t seem effected not like she was. Nishaa looked like a drowned rat she pulled her hair into her palms and squeeze – it was like her hair was a tap and a flow of water flowed onto the pavement momentarily. It didn’t really help considering the rain was still coming down in waves.

“Yes.”

She said in reply to his ‘is that so’ question. People shouldn’t get close to her as she followed Micah to his farm as it came into view her dark orbs looked it over curiously what was on his farm that he wanted? Plants. Was he someone who enjoyed gardening in his free time. Her orbs looked him up and down a few more times. He didn’t seem like the gardener – but each to their own if that was what he liked to do then power to him, when he started wearing pink. That’s when she’d worry for him and Velveteen.

“Yes”

She said again as she slipped inside the farm in front of Micah, as she wiped her face down from the rain that had pooled along her face, down towards her lips – the raindrops caught in her eyelashes. “I killed him when I was a child, I wasn’t all there. I believed in the devil, the voices told me to do it.” She shrugged unsure how to word it. It wasn’t something she just spurted out in conversation. “It… I was sent to a mental hospital, I was there for several years. I was never hugged from my family, I was never accepted upon my release I was the child that murdered her brother. It never really bothered me until tonight.” She lifted her palms to her face, eying them. “I saw blood, his face.” She shrugged. “Crazy, huh?”

[Micah]

It was dark inside the farmhouse so he located the switch and flipped it on. Light instantly filled the room, spilling into the corners and bathing the room in a soft glow that wasn’t hard on the eyes. There was nothing there - the house was still completely bare, a blank canvas just waiting for the expert touch that his wife would give it to make it uniquely theirs in a way that no one but Vel could pull off. Unfortunately since the house was bare that meant that they were both stuck wearing the rain drenched clothes. He couldn't even offer her a towel to dry her hair but it didn’t seem like Nishaa was really all that concerned about the rain.

“No…” he began slowly after he listened to what she had to say. “I don’t think thats crazy at all. I think that it’s normal. Sometimes people lock **** away and they try to forget. But they can’t do that because it hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s still there somewhere in their mind. And when you least expect it…” he snapped his fingers, the sound echoing off the empty walls, and shrugged. “It hits you. Then you gotta deal with it, no matter how much you wish you could forget it again.”

Micah moved silently across the floor and stood in front of the window. He was quiet for a long while as he stood there watching the rain. A particularly bright flash of lightning lit up the sky making it look like daylight, followed by a low, ominous rumble of thunder. “We’ve all done **** we ain’t proud of, including me. Don’t even get me started on my list of faults and **** ups. We’ll be here all night long and a lot of it was just a good old fashioned bit of teenage rebellion.”

He didn’t move from his spot in front of the window. His forehead pressed against the cool glass as he thought back to the things he’d done. The way he acted after his mother died. The way he’d treated Zoey’s mother - one of his biggest regrets. If he could change one thing, it would be that. “This ain’t you Nish, so why are you taking a trip down memory lane dwelling on **** you can’t change?”

[Nishaa]

When Nishaa had slipped inside the farmhouse that belonged to Micah her eyes took in the scenery, her eyes found various assortments of plants. She kicked off her soggy, wet shoes and treed through the grass barefoot. The grass that her pale feet touched withered, and became dead at the touch. She didn’t notice it herself at first, not until she turned around to view the plants that were close by and to the left. It was only then did she noticed the faint, snail trail of brown, and faded orange leaves in her wake. She hurried back to her shoes and slipped them back on, enduring the sopping wet texture on her feet for now, she didn’t want to ruin Micah’s plants or touch them for fear of making them die, like most plant life did around her when her bare skin connected with it.

Micah spoke then and her onyx like orbs looked directly at him. The tips of her hair dripped onto her already wet clothes as the woman blinked. She listened to his words, they made sense to her. She understood them but Nishaa wasn’t the type of person to ‘feel’ she didn’t like old memories to come crawling back to her and sticking to her like hot gel, it made her agitated and feeling all sorts of emotions she had learnt to lock away. Love, happiness, it was all worthless to her. She liked to use her anger.

It was better to keep everyone away from you, than to keep them close. You kept them close; you’d be the one at the end of the stick getting hurt. “I don’t want to deal with it.” She told him, her voice practically a whine. She adored Micah, and she felt when he was around she could be slightly childish.

She watched him wander over to the window. She didn’t see his reflection, you couldn’t see reflections not unless you were a necromancer, if you looked hard enough you could see her skeletal, zombie like features in the reflection as she blinked. Micah asked her why it was bothering her. He wanted the stone cold truth from her, and she was practically scared to tell him. If she told him the truth would she be judged for actually having emotions?

“Since.” There was a pause, as she tried to gather her thoughts, her speech. “Since I’ve been made vampire, I’ve been shown a family – yes I said family, and I’ve been accepted, I’ve had hugs and I’ve found love, lost. It.” She tried not to get to mushy, and appraising towards Andras to fill Micah’s already large head. “I guess, my mind is trying to wonder what it would be like with my human family if I hadn’t killed my brother, or perhaps I’m being punished for what I had been.” She said. “Or haunted.” There was a nervous laugh to boot.