Ashes to Asher
Posted: 13 Aug 2011, 17:00
((ooc: the actual death of Asher took place several days ago, just now getting to writing Kajira's thoughts and reactions. Enjoy))
She had been spending countless days in her lab, returning home only to shower and see her lover before heading straight back. Her work was not only critical, it was fascinating and she had a hard time staying away. Because of the isolated solitude of the lab, she was utterly oblivious to the goings on in the city and her own blood line.
She was in the lab, bent over a microscope with a small ache in her lower back, a pen held in one hand, jotting notes on a pad of paper, when the text came. Her phone rattled on the table and she sat up, arching her back to work out the kink. Lifting her phone, she opened the text to show a picture of a man she’d never seen, a location and a name. Arching a brow, she stood and traded her lab coat for her suit coat, slipping her knife in to the sheath at her wrist.
The train ride was quick and silent; she kept her jade eyes focused on the window and the scenery that blurred by. Kill him, it was all the text had said. Kill a man she didn’t know, for crimes he was reported to have committed against her blood line. She had many many questions and far too few answers. But an order was an order, and when it came from Scratch, it was one she would follow without question, at least for now.
As the train screeched and hissed to a halt, the doors whooshed open and the young Doctor stepped off and on to the platform. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she double checked the coordinates and moved swiftly. Her target never saw her coming and her strike was swift and clean, piercing her victim’s heart and turning his body to ash. She stared dispassionately at the small pile of grey on the ground before turning and walking away, heading back to her lab, she sent a single, quick text. “It’s done.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Days had passed since her first kill, since she had taken the life of another kindred. And yet the feeling, the questions remained. She had lost her focus at work, grown quiet and withdrawn from her lover. Already an isolationist by choice, she withdrew more and more in to her shell. Her studies were focused on her Necromancer powers, reading, researching, learning.
She had questions and she wanted answers. Scratch had been silent on it for the most part, save a few one or two word answers. She needed detail, explanation and she wasn’t getting any. Why was he considered a traitor? What had he done that was so terrible? Being a hermit left her in the dark, and this time she wasn’t content with it. She wanted answers and she was going to get them, even if she had to go to the source itself.
Moving through her empty apartment, she opened the door to a room she had set aside for rituals. Her analytical mind shied away from such things as magic and rituals, but she was desperate and willing to try anything at this point. She carried a book and a large paper sack in one hand, entering the room, she shut the door with her free hand and looked around. With a soft sigh, she opened the book and flipped to the appropriate page.
Placing the codex on the floor, she read a little bit and began to follow the instructions laid on the pages. First the candles, placed just so. The incense lit from a flickering flame. With chalk in one hand, she knelt before the book to read, absorbing and memorizing the inscriptions, she set to drawing them on the floor, covering the space with her neat, precise handwriting.
When all was done, she dusted off her hands, checked the book one last time and sat cross legged on the floor. Chewing on her lip, she took a moment to compose herself and her thoughts. Picturing his face in her mind, she exhaled slowly, feeling a flash of doubt at her actions. Shoving that thought aside, she took in another useless breath and spoke to the empty, candle lit room.
“Asher, if you can hear me... I summon you now to come and speak with me.”
She had been spending countless days in her lab, returning home only to shower and see her lover before heading straight back. Her work was not only critical, it was fascinating and she had a hard time staying away. Because of the isolated solitude of the lab, she was utterly oblivious to the goings on in the city and her own blood line.
She was in the lab, bent over a microscope with a small ache in her lower back, a pen held in one hand, jotting notes on a pad of paper, when the text came. Her phone rattled on the table and she sat up, arching her back to work out the kink. Lifting her phone, she opened the text to show a picture of a man she’d never seen, a location and a name. Arching a brow, she stood and traded her lab coat for her suit coat, slipping her knife in to the sheath at her wrist.
The train ride was quick and silent; she kept her jade eyes focused on the window and the scenery that blurred by. Kill him, it was all the text had said. Kill a man she didn’t know, for crimes he was reported to have committed against her blood line. She had many many questions and far too few answers. But an order was an order, and when it came from Scratch, it was one she would follow without question, at least for now.
As the train screeched and hissed to a halt, the doors whooshed open and the young Doctor stepped off and on to the platform. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she double checked the coordinates and moved swiftly. Her target never saw her coming and her strike was swift and clean, piercing her victim’s heart and turning his body to ash. She stared dispassionately at the small pile of grey on the ground before turning and walking away, heading back to her lab, she sent a single, quick text. “It’s done.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Days had passed since her first kill, since she had taken the life of another kindred. And yet the feeling, the questions remained. She had lost her focus at work, grown quiet and withdrawn from her lover. Already an isolationist by choice, she withdrew more and more in to her shell. Her studies were focused on her Necromancer powers, reading, researching, learning.
She had questions and she wanted answers. Scratch had been silent on it for the most part, save a few one or two word answers. She needed detail, explanation and she wasn’t getting any. Why was he considered a traitor? What had he done that was so terrible? Being a hermit left her in the dark, and this time she wasn’t content with it. She wanted answers and she was going to get them, even if she had to go to the source itself.
Moving through her empty apartment, she opened the door to a room she had set aside for rituals. Her analytical mind shied away from such things as magic and rituals, but she was desperate and willing to try anything at this point. She carried a book and a large paper sack in one hand, entering the room, she shut the door with her free hand and looked around. With a soft sigh, she opened the book and flipped to the appropriate page.
Placing the codex on the floor, she read a little bit and began to follow the instructions laid on the pages. First the candles, placed just so. The incense lit from a flickering flame. With chalk in one hand, she knelt before the book to read, absorbing and memorizing the inscriptions, she set to drawing them on the floor, covering the space with her neat, precise handwriting.
When all was done, she dusted off her hands, checked the book one last time and sat cross legged on the floor. Chewing on her lip, she took a moment to compose herself and her thoughts. Picturing his face in her mind, she exhaled slowly, feeling a flash of doubt at her actions. Shoving that thought aside, she took in another useless breath and spoke to the empty, candle lit room.
“Asher, if you can hear me... I summon you now to come and speak with me.”