Death and Filth

[Vyn]

The night was cold and moonless as the evening church bells sang out their joyous chorus, signifying the end of Mass. The sound, usually comforting and pleasant to most humans, but to those who lived within this Euclide infested town it was a klaxon symbol of fear. Within a few short minutes the town would grind to a halt, the aristocrats and party goers would retreat to their ballrooms, plays/operas, and masquerades, and the everyone else would flee to their homes. The shutters would be drawn tight, the doors would be locked.

Yet, even in this forsaken town, the poor were still homeless and the foolish crooks and criminals still took to the cover of twilight to do their errands. Even now, as Zokumenoji stalked the filthy isles, it was infested with more than dirt and grime of the usual kind. Tonight, however, one stood out among the usual filth and grime.

She must've been beautiful at one time in her life for even now, dirty and wasting away as she was, this woman still had the potential to be so, but years of Opium addiction had destroyed her. The woman had not yet spent enough time in the alleyways to have acquired its coating of grime and filth and, judging by the scent of her, she had only recently been removed from the comfort of her opium dens.

Zoku stood in the shadows, watching the woman as the final sounds of the tolling church bells faded into silence. With the ease of any Marionette, the Patchwork Puppet Master shifted his form smoothly from Euclide to that of a human boy, ebony locks falling about his face and contrasting with his unearthly pale skin. Zoku stepped from the shadows, just enough to alert her of his presence, and for a moment the two stood watching each other.

Her eyes roamed to his body, and his thoughts followed that path.

In his mind's eye he remembered standing before a mirror in his father's theatre. Examining his human form. He was a lean creature, built for sneaking and deceit; a combination of his mother's lithe build and his father's destructive power. It suited him well when in his human form, giving him a sort of unearthly beauty that some would associate with his mild androgyny. But he would improve with age, fill out more toward his masculine side as he grew. Jiaro's genetics wouldn't deny him that.

A slight smirk rose to his lips. He was a demon of the most beautiful sort, the perfect breed to lure the unwary to him. As it was, she crawled to him now; seeking forgiveness or freedom from this coil of life. They both knew the more likely course, and as she crawled toward him, he allowed his form to revert to its proper self: the sleek blend of feline and lapine that was more adequately built for assisting death.

He loved the accepting sort of terror that filled her eyes as she saw the truth of him, but she didn't bother to flee or even to go so far as to cry out. This was what she wanted, and for once he'd make it painless.

_{Zokumenoji: 11}

[FlyingPanther]

Persephone was walking back home to her stoic father late at night. She had thought to go to the graveyard for a bit, but when she had gotten there, there were already several younglings, her age and older, in the area. She was never one to be around others, prefering the solitude, or her father's precence, as he always felt like he was never there anyway. She was a rather morbid little pup, and she had always gone to the graveyard for some peace and quiet and some time to contemplate. But the group of younglings had spoiled her plans of a quite night alone.

She walked along, with the same grace and silence as her father who some called "the Grim Reaper". It was strange, despite the fact that she looked alot like her mother, excluding that she was a canine, and had a white skull-colored head like her father, her personality was similar if not exactly like her father, "Young Death", he had dubbed her despite her name. She was proud of her title, and it really didn't matter that no one but she and her father knew of it, maybe one day others would know...if she could live up to it.

In the dark of the night she heard a small scuffle. Normally she would continue on, unconcerned with the noise. She knew this place was infested with Euclides, so scuffle noises were not uncommon, but this one somehow intreged her. Maybe it was because she hadn't had her time alone for the night, maybe it was somthing else, but in the end her silent paws found there way towards the alley that the noise had come from, to see another youngling like herself, much older, and over a recent kill smelling horribly of drugs. She stared at them both with blank dead eyes, seemingly more dead looking then most euclides eyes usually looked. A side effect of her death side, no doubt.

Persephone Arkaeib: 1

[Vyn]

Zoku was fascinated by the taint of opium within her flesh and blood, fascinated by the dull sort of euphoria that passed onto him as he fed upon her. The young Patchwork had heard of it being done by others, but he himself had never bothered to go after the junkies or even the aristocrats who dappled into that interest.

Slowly he pulled away from his kill, grinning for no reason as blood dripped shamelessly off his muzzle.

He had been right to believe she wasn't yet far enough gone to be a good meal. Someone might have even been able to save her from this self-inflicted death, but that was all in the past now. She was beyond saving now, and Zoku was satisfied with his meal (not to mention slightly intoxicated).

Zokumenoji stretched slowly, enjoying the sensation of opium traveling slowly through his veins. It was almost enjoyable enough to understand why so many were currently addicted, almost. The young Puppet Master, however, much preferred being sober to this dull sort of pleasure. All his movements were slow and rather lazy, and his head moved in much the same manner; it wasn't the proper state for a Puppet Master to be in.

It was only once Zoku had moved away from his kill and settled onto his haunches to clean his muzzle when he noticed what he should've noticed from the beginning: He wasn't alone.

His soulless eyes narrowed harshly upon the femme, but Zoku just couldn't get the proper tension to rise up in his body. The opium did its job well, he had to admit; Zoku hated it. Slowly he forced himself to his paws, stalking toward the strange Death/Music with slowly clicking claws. "Hello there." He hissed out, still licking blood from his muzzle. "A bit bold to hover around a Puppet Master while he's hunting, don't you think?" However, despite his threatening words, Zoku appeared didn't appear to be ready to pounce, or even consider pouncing.

_{Zokumenoji: 12}

[FlyingPanther]

Persephone's statuesque stance remained as she watched the patchwork before her. Her dead soulless eyes, and her stance, she seemed so completely...well dead, unanimated. Her body didn't move even a centimeter, and one could have wondered if she was even breathing. Closer inspection would show that she was, but it would certainly not be noticeible from far away, or to one on an opium high. She was her father's daughter alright. Her dead silence and movement was shattered by a quick blink of the eyes when the other approached her, hissing a greeting of sorts with a slight threat.

And then she spoke. Her voice was far from melodic, which proved strange to those who knew her lineage. It sounded like that of a voice which didn't speak unless it really needed to. Completely flat, monotone, with absolutely no emotion in it whatsoever, as if her very soul was dead, and it was just a body walking around, that somehow had the ability to talk. It was eerie to say the very least. But there was a certain quality to her voice that made it even more chilling, only to be discribed as the voice of fate. "Yes, bold indeed, but Persephone would have had to have known one such as yourself was a puppet master before claiming true bravery, or foolishness. Her curiousity had simply gotten away with her."

Persephone Arkaeib: 2

[Vyn]

Zoku could care less whether or not she was breeding. After all, a ghost haunted his Theatre and his brother was undead. What was so shocking about another such beast? Luckily for Zoku's opium-induced apathy, he hadn't even noticed how shallow her breath was, nor how statuesque and dead she appeared from a distance.

The Patchwork had made it another step forward when Persephone finally spoke, revealing that hollow monotone voice which froze Zoku in his place. For a second the words simply didn't register, all he heard was the drone of her voice. It was the sound of truth spoken; of prophecies from the lips of the dead.

For a moment panic exploded in his mind, and he was tempted to step back, to run. Only to slowly realize that she was not condemning him, or even accusing him of anything. She was doing nothing more than explaining her presence. It brought a hissing sigh of relief to his muzzle while he mentally cursed the opium haze.

"I see." Zokumenoji loved his youth, loved that his rank would remain unknown until he was older. After all, it was always such a delight to see the terror that crossed the face of some when they realized they were ignorantly treating a Puppet Master like a common Puppeteer. "And I imagine you are Persephone?"

Zoku settled down before her, his tail flicking around to rest over his white paws. Now that he had heard her voice, he could anticipate it again, there would be no shock as there had been before. Zoku would never allow such a thing to happen to him again, whether it was Persephone's voice or anything else.

_{Zokumenoji: 13}

[FlyingPanther]

A flick of a shock white ear was all the movement she made in responce to the slight panic he had shown. She knew better then to point out the fact that he had been nervous about her at first, and so once the small panic attack had subsided, she had let it pass through memory like it never even happened, and nothing but the initial movement of her ear would ever have let him know she had noticed his sudden insecurity. He then became pleased, or at least, so he seemed, for what reason Persephone didn't really know why, but then again she didn't care to ask why either. "One might call her the carrier of Persephone Arkaeib, yes. Puppeteer of those destined to Die. 'Little Death', daughter of Setjyx, known by some as 'The Grim Reaper'." She loved her father, there was no doubt of this, though she didn't extend her greeting out of pride for her lineage, so much as she liked the formalities of introducing ones self in that manner. "But Persephone finds herself wondering who you are, young puppet master. Would you be so kind as to humor her? Or is this not in your nature?" ah, so she could crack jokes, and a poor attempt at a smile, almost unnoticible compared to her normal expressionless gaze.

Persephone Arkaeib: 3

[Vyn]

Zoku had not noticed the flick of her ear as he had panicked. Had he noticed it, he might not have been so willing to alter their conversation in a more pleasant direction. Instead, he tilted his head and listened to her strange hollow voice, taking in her words with a sort of dark fascination.

"Persephone Arkaeib. A pleasure then Little Death." His muzzle quirked slightly with amusement. She was a strange one, but he was beginning to enjoy her company. Her short crack at humor, the small attempt at a smile. It only amused him further, encouraged him to continue their conversation. "Truth is never my nature," He purred out smoothly, playing her game of words. "but I shall humor Persephone with it now."

The young Patchwork lifted his head high, an arrogant sort of pride filling the adolescent's smile. "I am Zokumenoji. Son of the Dark Lord, Jiarokumo." Zoku flashed her a devious smile, chuckling softly. "One of the three owners of the Puppet's Rubies."

The murder of their brother was something many abhorred, Zoku found it hilarious. He loved nothing more than to flaunt his adornments, to hear the skeletal accessories clatter against one another, to see the shine of his ruby.

_{Zokumenoji: 14}

[FlyingPanther]

Persephone made a long sweeping motion, sitting with her breast jutting out with good posture, her white horizontal markings becoming all the more striking. Other then this motion, she continued her unnerving statuesque stare, not even a flick of the tail or a blink of an eye. Death once again seemed to consume her. "Persephone has heard of your lineage, and of tale of the puppet's rubies."[/b] she heard alot of different things, seemingly soaking up any news of death or horror like a sponge into her dead body. It would be hard to read with her body language, and the way that she moved so slightly made people wonder if she even movied really at all, but her dead eyes wandered slightly along Zoku's body, finally ending and focusing on the ruby. In truth, she didn't really know what to think of the tale. Death, of course, always had some sort of amusing quality in her eyes, but to kill a sibling? She wasn't sure if she could say she was horrifide either though, as she like anyone else had the urge to kill those weaker. It was just an instinct.

She made another movement, a small lowering of the head in greeting, before placing it how it had been before. "She says it's an equal pleasure to meet someone of such a notorious lineage. Persephone always sees them around, though hardly any have humored her as you have so kindly been able to do. Yes, a pleasure."[/b]

Persephone Arkaeib: 4

[Vyn]

Zoku watched Persephone's movement with slight interest, his eyes scanning over her form in a way that startlingly resembled Jiaro eying a Marionette. She was a Death mix, that much Zoku could figure, but he could not guess her other type. Just from watching her short movements, Zoku was able to see the grace in her...the potential to be a beautiful female.

The young Puppet Master tucked that information away for a later time, a grin flickering onto his muzzle and vanishing as quickly as it had come. Yes, there was potential in her...he would have to keep an eye on her.

"The tale of our deed has spread far." Zoku and his siblings had not it allowed to do anything else. After all, they openly wore than broken brother's bones. What better way was there to spread news?

"So many of them believe themselves too great for the common populace." He rolled his eyes as some came into mind, but his sly grin swiftly returned at full force. "But there are uses to interacting with commoners."

He moved fluidly to his paws once more, tufted tail flicking once to ensure that skeletal rattle as he approached her. One he was within reach of her, a paw lifted slowly to rest beneath her chin, the older male scanning her youthful features with a devious sort of interest. Yes, yes...she could be very beautiful, even with the voice of fate issuing from her mouth. Zoku could make use of her.

"I, however, have found it quite helpful for future plans."

Of course, Zoku would study this female more before coming to a final decision. If he kept her around or not would depend on how their conversation continued. For now, though, Persephone was becoming quite the interesting Puppeteer.

[FlyingPanther]

"It is a shame that they prove to be so close minded. Persephone only hopes that one day they may shake that notion off, or she dreads how the lineage of the Dark Lord will continue." she says simply to his comment about his siblings. She motionlessly followed his movements toward her, silently reading his intent. It was harder to read a stoic, as she had found out in her father, maybe it was half the reason she herself was a stoic, but she read Zoku like an interesting book. She seemed to sence his intentions even before he motioned to move toward her. But to give Zoku credit, her father had told her many things to look out for in euclides, and they had become steadily more easy to read and interperate. A paw touched her chin. She did not flinch, nor did her facial expression change, and it was hard to tell if she was looking at him or not. Completely unreadible.

"What are said plans, if Persephone can be so bold?" she questioned.

Persephone Arkaeib: 5

[Vyn]

"They will change with age. From the passing of youth to the step into adulthood, many will discover rationality mingles well with power." Zoku chuckled then, the sound dark and sinister. Perhaps that theory was his Smog talking? He and Kyva, even in their great arrogance, were both tempered with a helpful dose of rationality. "Or perhaps I am giving them too much faith."

Zoku shrugged carelessly, shaking his head slightly. His half-siblings...they could be so foolish at times. Perhaps it would be best for some of them to die off. Leave behind only the proper stock crafted of Jiaro and his High Lady, Siyaebi.

As he moved forward, though, he watched her watching him and knew she read his movements with those hollow orbs. What else would be expected? Zoku was not in one of his craftier moods, nor was he bothering to disguise his actions. For once, he truly was an open book and he could care less who read his pages today.

"Of course, I plan to start a cast of my own." He chuckled darkly, his eyes scanning her once more. "But in the way of members, I find it quite useful to find alliances while you and they are both still young." His hollow slits narrowed slowly, thoughtfully, and his tail began to flick from side to side in an eerie rattle of bone against bone.

Zoku had at last made up his mind: this lovely Persephone would be made his as soon as he came of age to form a cast. Now the only question remaining was whether or not she would join him by her own will or by force. A smile played onto his muzzle, but he left the question temporarily unsaid.

[FlyingPanther]

"She supposes that faith is all you can really give." She made another movement then, her head moving slowly and presicely to move his paw from under her chin. She didn't mind being examed, The Murdon knows she did it to, it was always good to examine one in which you meet. From just a look you can tell alot about another individual, or at least this was true for the Little Death. She could tell of his arrogance from his stance, tell of need for killing those weaker even if they are his own siblings by his bone adornments, tell of his pride, and could tell from his smile that he was hiding something. She could only assume it was about her. "She figured as much. One such as yourself would never be a questionible cast starter in Persephone's eyes, your lineage and pride would never allow you to join another Puppet Master's. And one can assume from your opinion of your siblings and those of 'commoners' that you would be asking them to join more then your siblings. But she has to wonder at the way you examine her as you speak, what you are planning for her and what you are thinking. For Persephone is very good at reading one's physcial language, though she is still a tad rusty on reading the mental language of another."

Persephone Arkaeib: 6

[Vyn]

Zoku allowed her to move away from her paw without fight or comment. If she didn't want to be touched, so be it. Zoku was too mellowed by Opium haze to enter his usual aggressive state. So he simply followed her with his soulless eyes, feasting on her visage and running plans through his mind.

She could read him...and quite well too. It left Zoku wondering if it was just the Opium making him be unusually open...of if this ability of hers would follow him into his more sober mindsets. When the smooth liar returned...would she still be able to read him? Would she be as interested in joining him?

Was she even interested in that now?

His hollow eyes flicked from her figure to her face, taking in her words though he appeared to not acknowledge them in the least. He was consumed in his thoughts, that much was true, but he was listening as well. She might not be adept at mind reading, but she read his intentions quite well.

"Then I suppose I shall indulge you in your curiousity." A devious grin crept upon his maw. "I would like you to be in my cast-to-be." His words were unusually direct, but even then they were not the full truth. If she did not agree, he would force her to. Zoku had adopted his father's possessive ways: once something was deemed his, it would remain so. Only death would take Persephone from this young Puppet Master's claws.

[FlyingPanther]

Weather Zoku knew it or not, his body language read of a certain insecuirty as she spoke her words. This she payed attention to. Well, maybe it wasn't insecurity, but from the way that he looked at her, to the way he revealed his thought process with facial expressions, it was easy for her to see that there was some sort of internal conflict going on. Questions that were being raised in his mind. She couldn't tell what he was thinking about of course, this was a skill she would have to develop from speaking with him, and just in general being able to read the words of others more carefully. Her head tilted ever so slightly as she watched him. She was being far more animated then usual around him, maybe their meeting was bringing out a certain aspect in them both that they did not normally share?

"And if Persephone says no? What would become of her then?" She knew in her mind what the answer was already, from his smile, to the way he subconsciously seemed to retract his claws out just a smiggin more as he spoke, however, it would be nice to hear it come from his lips. After all, Persephone may look rather plain, even weak, but she most certainly was not, and it would be a 'grave' error for anyone who assumed such a thing. It was in a way almost like two lovers talking about what they were going to do to eachother after dinner, then after their 'steamy' shower, then after.....in a sort of weird and twisted way.

Persephone Arkaeib: 7

[Vyn]

Even if her words hadn't had his attention previously, they sure had it now. No amount of Opium in his veins could have slowed the rage which sprung into his eyes, though his facial features remained as they had been before she had spoken: fascinated, slightly bemused and plotting. His posture was tense, hard to read at last as his emotions appeared to be conflicting one another. He wanted to tear her to pieces for daring to defy him, and yet another piece of him was laughing, aware of the fact that she probably meant to bring this rage into his eyes.

Was she purposefully toying with him? The inner question brought a cruel twist to his muzzle, a foul grin baring his sharp incisors.

"Must she really ask?" Zoku hissed, though his voice was smooth with amusement. Contradictions everywhere, but not a single lie tainted his words. "I would be forced to put her in her place, for there is no denying me. You are already mine, even if you do not see it as so."

His posture was rigid with tension, his claws scratching into the grime caked onto the cobblestones, but his gaze was filled with conflicting emotions and thoughts. Rage and Amusement were mingling with one another, uncertain as to which would win. Persephone was a bold you (was that not part of why he wanted her?), not many would have dared to press such buttons on a Puppet Master, let alone one of Jiaro's brood.

Yet, she did.

She had pressed his buttons, tempted his rage...and yet his anger had not fallen upon her. It remained on a tether, as thin and precariously held together as that tether might be, growling in his eyes but not quite reaching his lips.