Encouragement for the Murderer

[Silhouette (DELETED 6077)]

Into the new year, Silhouette felt as if she'd really left a terrible December behind. Since her most recent exploits, Sil's head had been entirely out of the game. Anxiety brought on a feverish hunger in her like nothing she'd felt since first moving to Harper Rock, yet feeding seemed nearly impossible.

"Nearly" being the most regrettable key word as Silhouette's sneaker clad feet pattered along the tunnel paths beneath the city. Somehow or another, she was completely overlooking potential witnesses. Somehow her brain reverberated with the memories of December. Too much.

She pressed onward, aiming for the general direction of the Quarantined Zone as she kept her eyes peeled for the over-populated rats that littered the sewers. Surely no one could find her here. It would take too many disgusting vermin to fill her but at least it kept her from revealing her true nature. Surely, she could bleed the rats without having to place her mouth on their grimy, waste-soaked fur.

A harsh squeak broke her thoughts and she lunged downward at a passing target. It writhed in her hand, longing to live and as she placed her hands in position to break it's neck... she froze.

"I'm so... so sorry..." she whispered

It struggled to live much in the way of Christof. And as she pictured, once more, the image of her hand shoving violently through his throat, she lowered the rat back to its feet and watched it flee desperately from the proven threat.

"What's wrong with you, stupid *****? You have to eat, and you can't spend all your wages on blood packs. Just pick up the next one and do it." She muttered to herself, as she dug the nails of both hands into opposite crossed arms. Somehow, the feeling of these wounds brought her mind back to clarity. She knew this was a terrible habit, one she'd had to kick in her human days. Somehow, the rapid healing made it seem much less harmful.

You know what's wrong with you. You're a beast who can't hunt. You accidentally killed your prey too soon and now you're moping. You can't do anything

The scathing, critical voice in the back of her mind echoed within her skull and Silhouette dug harder into her flesh.

"You can do this..." she reassured herself once more while stepping more quickly toward the quarantine zone- hungry and now very very on edge as more harsh words shouted into her.

You can't do **** and you know it. Pathetic.

[Kamikaze]

Within the sewers, Kamikaze felt safe, felt comfort. The rats had been companions as well as emergency rations. The paladins within the sewers still remained, and she was still gunning them down when she ran into them, of course, with no questions asked. Blade in hand, Kamikaze was carving through the darkness, slinking within the shadows of the labyrinth under the city. It was her refuge from the chaos above. Taking a moment to rest herself, the Shadow leaned against a wall of the sewer, not being picky of the filth that littered the area. The rats squeaked and rustled, running to and fro, looking for food, something she could relate to. She had in years past done the same thing, feeding and running around without a worry or care of the dangers that it could bring to her.

In the distance, the Shadow heard something. Was it spoken words? A curious notion. Seeking to investigate, Kamikaze drew her blade, in case it was another paladin who wished death upon themselves. Slow, careful steps, she timed it with the rats moving, as to mask the sound of her approach, keeping close to the walls. Closer and closer, the sounds were becoming louder, until she saw the source. A woman. She had been trying to feed from a rat, but refused to. The threat was still there, though, with many uncertainties lingering. Who was she? What was she? Was she real? Kamikaze had come to terms that a lot of things that she observed anymore may not have existed, may not have really been there. Her senses were not to be trusted.

Ducking, with her blade out, she quickly acted, choosing to hide within the shadows, masking herself with the darkness. She would speak, perhaps find answers to questions, though more questions with other questions would flood her mind as well. She looked troubled, trying to feed on the rats, refusing to, then trying to psyche herself up to do it. Kamikaze had remembered herself doing the same, after finding these sewers for the first time, after her visits to the shadows of the damned.

Shadows echo with cries. Feet scurry. Dangers within. Emotions run. This one cries out. Why do demons sing?

Kamikaze's voice was soft, echoing through the sewers, as if it could come from any place from the location. The water ran lightly through the filth at their feet, against the Shadow's bare feet as she pressed to the wall, eyes trained on the other.

[Silhouette (DELETED 6077)]

I didn't kill my prey too soon, i don't kill prey at all. I don't. I wouldn't. Not on purpose.

You did, they all die eventually. The blood loss only shortens their span. Don't lie to yourself, you know you're a monster.

I'm not.

You are. Now act like it. Soak in the squeaking like you enjoyed Christof's struggle. you know you did.

"Didn't!"

Shadows echo with cries. Feet scurry. Dangers within. Emotions run. This one cries out. Why do demons sing?

Silhouette turned, hand on sword, preparing to encounter a foot soldier or worse as her ears first only picked up the presence of a voice. Hesitation stayed her withdrawal of the blade as the voice was recognized as soft, but jumbled words came from the sound and Sil took several moments to assess the appearance of this somewhat askew little Asian woman as she tried to make sense of the spoken words. And was she barefoot down here?! The small amount of flowing water and debris was making it difficult to say for sure, but the thought of stepping on some of the notorious items down here was enough to make her head tweak to her shoulder as if she had tourettes.

"Oh um... am I the demon? I didn't mean to bother you, if that's what I- " Confusion washed over Silhouette and her voice faded off as she recalled that she truly just argued with herself. Her hand stayed close to the hilt of her sword, cautious after she was thrown off guard by... him.

[Kamikaze]

Demon. Teeth. Heart not for rat slaying. Stay blade or shadows beckon. Underground. Caution. Feeding? No human? More caution. Hitmen? Spotted?

Kamikaze pulled away from the wall, stepping toward the scared woman. Focusing on the other's mouth, she knew it. Vampire. Keeping a grip on her sword, the Shadow watched, eyes focused. Mind racing, Kamikaze pondered if there was a bounty on this woman's head, perhaps that was why she was hiding. She must have been caught feeding, or she hadn't the heart to feed on humans. Shi and Three advised a more passive route, perhaps interrogation instead of violence. Inexperience must have caused this, they stated, within the mind, before a white noise of sorts filled her head. More voices echoed, pleading, screaming within the woman's head. Most were not hallucinations, though there were a fair amount that were, all angry and crying out for redemption, for freedom. Gripping her blade, Kamikaze stared at this other vampire, deciding to be blunt now.

Demon named? Lineage? Where hail from? Young. Fledgeling. ... Fledgeling demon yes? Yes?

With the echo of her last words, Kamikaze narrowed her gaze, gripping her blade, Anguish in full view now. It was a decent sized sword, crafted from an associate of hers. Clearly lethal, with signs of use dripping down the blade, it was now pointed at the other. Shi and Three quietly assured the third personality that she meant no harm, but Kamikaze was afraid to take the chance. She would defend them if necessary, if the unnamed vampire did not give the proper information. She was not a stranger to violence, nor to combat, as her time with Tytonidae had proven, helping ferry others to the Shadow Realm. On her own, though, she did not have the time, nor the reason to, unless provoked.

Eyes focused now on the hand toward the hilt, Kamikaze stared, lowering herself into a defensive stance, gripping her blade even more, now with both hands. Arms length apart, her knees were bent. Releasing the hilt with her right hand, Kamikaze readied herself, balancing her frame with the hand she released the sword with, left hand resting her blade to herself.

[Silhouette (DELETED 6077)]

Demon. Teeth. Heart not for rat slaying. Stay blade or shadows beckon. Underground. Caution. Feeding? No human? More caution. Hitmen? Spotted?

As the woman stepped out, revealing herself further, Silhouette gripped tighter on her sword, pulling it slowly and silently upward, not quite drawing but prepared for slicing nonetheless. The odd manner of speaking was starting to register in her brain, though Silhouette still stared incredulously as the woman seemed to lose herself in her own mind. Her eyes were determined and focused on Silhouette and Sil thought better than to make any sudden movements as she fumbled for a correct response. What would drive away this stranger? Silhouette stared back, wondering who this woman was, and why she was interested in Sil's feedings. Certainly she hadn't been leaving witnesses. At least she thought not. She hadn't fed since the murder... did someone witness it? Silhouette's heart would have been pounding, but instead the now blunt voice cut through her thoughts.

Demon named? Lineage? Where hail from? Young. Fledgeling. ... Fledgeling demon yes? Yes?

Silhouette startled in a near-seizure motion as her body was already tensed for battle. Thankfully this was extremely direct and Silhouette had no qualms about the answers. Who cared who she was, honestly. The woman was already seemingly glaring at her with the curiosity of a wolf deciding if she was prey or not.

"I'm Silhouette Quartermaine, I live here in Harper Rock now, have been since I was turned last year. Does that still count as a fledgling?" Sil drew her blade, which was slowly eased out as they'd spoken, showing that she was unafraid of conflict if it were something that had to happen. A gift from acquaintances of the family, Silhouette was extremely grateful for their generosity and wielded the sword proudly, someone pleased at its rare use, but also somewhat guilty. Thought she wasn't formally trained in swordsmanship, Silhouette had learned, quickly, the movements of the sword as if it were an extension of her own arm. She continued her grip, but brought the sword back toward her, prepared to lunge.

"And who are you? Are you seeking me out? I've done nothing but mind my own business."

Liar, Liar, Christof's corpse on fire

I'm not listening to you. If you haven't noticed, I have company.

But you have time to respond. You're losing your touch, Silly.

Get out of my head! Silhouette murmured aggressively at the inner voice, glancing briefly at the stranger in hopes that she hadn't heard Silhouette speaking to herself.

[Kamikaze]

Quartermaine. The lineage was familiar. Kin to Ripper, as well as a few others that she knew of. She had never spoken with many of the lineage, nor had she even spoken with them much, except a very brief post on the Crownet here and there. Now that she had a name to the face, she would remember this, perhaps for further analysis into the matter. A year since the turning, and she was here in the shadows, attempting to feed from a rat. Peculiar. Noticing the woman's grip on the blade, as well as the motions of the body, the Shadow adjusted her stance accordingly. Martial arts were a strong point for her, once she had turned, and her body had matured and strengthened. Perhaps this woman had done the same since her turning, though there was no way to know for certain. Eyes flicked from the blade to the woman's face, then back to the blade.

Quartermaine. Ripper clan. Kin. Alexandrea. Not our clan.

A few rats skittered across the Shadow's bare feet, the murky water flowing a bit heavier now, the sludge starting to shift, unleashing an odor that Kamikaze was rather familiar with. It was unpleasant to say the least, which explained why the woman did not see many inhabit the sewers as she did. Only those who wanted to escape the sunlight as well as the hellish existance above ground, among those who wished to battle against the paladins that still lingered. Crouching a bit more, she stared straight at Silhouette now, eyes wide, not blinking, the madness beginning to stir more heavily. Shadows began to whisper, chitter, her vision skewing. Kamikaze could hear them in chorus now, almost deafening. The damned were crying out once more, and then there was Tao. The wraith soon made itself known to Kamikaze, whispering obscenities within her mind.

We. Shadows sing of calamaty. Strife. This one is. Listener of Shadows. Kamikaze are we. Seeker no. Seeker no longer. Seeker past. Owls. Masquerade yes. Seek with righteous fury. Seek and Shadows. Death.

Noticing that the other's lips had moved otherwise, Kamikaze could tell something was off. Were the murmured words for her? Within the mind, she consulted with her other personalities, in the midst, for assistance. Shizuka and Three figured the girl was thinking aloud, and not to pay mind to it. Trusting in their guidance this time, she resigned to the fact that the other's mumblings were not significant to this situation. Eyes narrowed once more, as her vision skewed more, altering as the walls of the sewers seemed to ooze darkness, a creeping death that looked to consume. Of course, this was a luxury that only her mind was privvy to, at this time, the chittering growing louder.

Mind own, yes. Smart. Still question. Rat. Perfer? Angels walk above. Feast. Careful. Angels need no thought of demons. Complications. Unless...

Narrowing eyes once more, Kamikaze focused as much as she could on Silhouette, as the hallucinations began to come more rampantly, the shadows creeping faster, ghostly figures of her past flickering about her. She speculated on this woman's stance, and was unsure if she stood with or against the masquerade. If she was feeding in the sewers, on purpose, then perhaps she was paying the price for a mistake, or perhaps just a quick snack. Perhaps she could have also fed on a human and get caught on purpose. This fact ate at her. It was possible, though. She had noticed this had occured in the past, with groups such as the Fifth Column.

Noticing that Silhouette still had her hands to the weapon, Kamikaze gripped her blade even tighter, fully committing to her defensive stance.

Stay blade. Now.

[Silhouette (DELETED 6077)]

The smell of sewer was growing stronger and was nearly unbearable. She was eager to escape the sewers, having already decided it wasn't even worth the struggle to feed from the numerous rodents skittering along the waste-laden concrete floor. The stranger seemed to withdraw into her own mind and Silhouette considered attempting to reach out mentally out of curiosity. This thought was only a passing idea since if she were unstable it could cause too many problems and possible danger. Conflict was the last thing Silhouette was ready for and she stood patiently but cautiously as the woman thought about the answers provided by Sil's not so graceful responses.

Quartermaine. Ripper clan. Kin. Alexandrea. Not our clan.

Silhouette had met Ripper on a few occasions as she'd been around the city. A couple of those occasions weren't the most pleasant as he had been there to tackle her out of the sun when had forgotten about avoiding sunlight. Alexandrea, though she didn't see her often, might have been the one who got her the job she held. But they were illusive and aside from Ripper's face racing to attack her into the safety of shadows, most of the family was a blur to Silhouette.

"I don't know most of them very well but-" Before Silhouette could say the ones she'd met had seemed like relatively good people, a strong foul gust followed the flow of the water and it was enough for Silhouette to wretch terribly. She was determined to keep her stance, ready for any sudden movement the woman made. Especially as she began crouching further, eyes looking through Silhouette as if her body was a moving target. Silhouette tensed, raising her sword ever so slightly with the tightened muscles drawing her arms upward. Discomfort settled in Sil's stomach as disgust settled in her nostrils and the voice in her mind was screaming.

Kill her! Kill her now, she's plotting. You sense it. All you have to do is charge.

I won't. You don't know ****. I'm not listening.

You are. You know I'm right. Leap!

The internal argument was punctuated by the slight movement of the woman’s crouching. Her eyes were burrowed into Silhouette in an unsettling manner and she spoke in turned about riddles once more.

We. Shadows sing of calamaty. Strife. This one is. Listener of Shadows. Kamikaze are we. Seeker no. Seeker no longer. Seeker past. Owls. Masquerade yes. Seek with righteous fury. Seek and Shadows. Death.

Masquerade. She’d heard this term a few times, or rather she’d seen it while perusing the internet through her mind. Very few times had she really explored Crownet or it’s forums but these terms were vaguely familiar at least. Though Silhouette was toying with the thought of responding, Kamikaze seemed miles away, regardless of standing before her. Silhouette couldn’t blame her in the least as she struggled with her own self in near silence.

Mind own, yes. Smart. Still question. Rat. Perfer? Angels walk above. Feast. Careful. Angels need no thought of demons. Complications. Unless...
Stay blade. Now.

Angels and demons. I suppose that was some way of viewing it, though Silhouette was more inclined to her vampire life when she wasn’t burdened with guilt or sensory overload. Feeling powerful and in control was a complete change of pace for the once-passive woman. This was not to say that she was completely unreasonable, and Silhouette was always more compromising than she preferred to be at times. Even now in the face of a command that flowed across the stench of the sewers.
“With all due courtesy… I’m not sure I can sheath my sword unless you’re doing the same.” She made a slight withdraw of her blade in show of willingness, though still held some tension in her stance as she waited for the actions of this somewhat unusual stranger.