Meddler [Open]

The footsteps had crept closer, their crescendo upon the poorly polished marble like perpetuating gunshots to follow the one which had actually pierced the air. Part of her suspicions pegged the suspect as some unfortunate nightwatchman to have stumbled on her happenings. Therein existed the possibility it was some good for nothing vigilante, out patrolling the streets for evil doers, and all that cliché nonsense. A fleeting inkling of a feeling wanted it to be someone she left behind, or even a soul which she had not seen in many a moon. The blond rose to meet the gaze of a rather unfamiliar entity, tome clutched tightly to breast, a silent stare of scarlet would eye this enigma once over.

The choice of words and their grating tone did little to disarm the witch’s sense of caution, who merely continued to watch on as this inhuman arrival made to mock her actions. Celeste dipped into her mental catalogue of otherworldly threats – trying to discern from this girl’s features what she was suddenly dealing with. She supposed it was only a matter of time before something showed up, the seals to this old sanctuary could only remain broken for so long. It was almost like looking into a warped mirror. The dress, the hair, the eyes, and most importantly that strange sense of something wrong. What powers did she possess? A creature of the night, or perhaps a darker place beyond it? Celeste supposed she could worry about it later, there were more pressing issues here.

The witch offered an upturned palm when the claps thrice touched the air.

”Truly, your power of observation simply astounds,” the witch would offer dryly in retort. The vampire approached, the witch paced in turn, the two strafing against each other’s motions like a pair of rival lionesses meeting on the plain. ”Well now, you’re a face I haven’t seen.” Celeste’s steps were patient, calculated, every action made so as not to betray her intentions. The curious arrival was treated with a passive disinterest to her questioning, the blond lazily running a fingertip along a nearby desk, feigning its inspection.

”Come to savor a little late-night reading, have we?”

The witch would roll her head to the side, chin tilting as she regarded Qarinah with a smirk.

”I’m afraid you’re out of luck. The library has closed,” she would remark with a shrug, turning for the vestibule with a flippant wave. Her eyes fell to the book in hand, frowning as it once more began to singe her skin in places it remained uncovered by the special cloth. Provided some charity or luck, she would be able to return this hard-earned curio to where it was needed.

TWC:(+452)1674
Qarinah

”Oh! So very kind of you!”

The witch would snatch the napkin from the book, holding it to her nose with a pinch, exuding a loud, trumpeting blow into the wetting fabric. A brief grimace, and it was tossed nonchalantly over the edge of the stairwell as they entered the next room. It was rather too dark to recall much of this place, most of the candles had been snuffed in the fighting hours prior, and she couldn’t be bothered to scry the incantation needed to restore them. A prominent snap to fill the room would prompt the remains of a chandelier near the ceiling to give off an eerie glow, almost akin to an unnatural moonlight. It wasn’t abundant to make much of the room, but at least one could more visibly see without tripping to their death.

Depictions of ancient monks and spellcasters, both humanoid and zoanthropic alike, battled archdemons in paintings which adorned various places of the walls betwixt dusty, worn shelves adorned with glassware, scrolls, and an all manner of centuries old curio. She remembered little of this place, having only visited twice in her entire existence, yet it still brought on feelings of uncertainty as back then. Maybe it was attributed to what was kept here, or worse, what possibly remained obscured from her knowledge. Their steps echoed in the dark, against the endless drill to her background that the witch’s unwelcome shadow would present.

In spite of what many thought of her, Celeste rarely got her hands dirty this way. No, she was more content to simply sow the seeds and let others do the rest of the work for her. A thousand cases of experience had given her a generally good read on how many would act; much similar to those such as Kowlin, Kamae, or even poor Dion. Rarely was it ever for the benefit of man, or even their own safety. Rather, they worked only to ensure their own legacies, secure their own power, and at times, simply follow their whims. The ephemerality of their existence drove their actions. And sometimes, Celeste would pick someone and watch. By their actions would the worth of man and Earth’s protectors in this current state be judged. In a world now in fear of heroes, that should’ve been rather easy.

Though Celeste didn’t come here to entertain history lessons of a past she now sorely felt disconnected to, had done her best to distance herself from, no matter how often it tried to call her back. The interference of some otherworldly meddler and their needless prodding toward it, wouldn’t be allowed to dissuade her from obtaining what remained inked and faded on the pages within. Celeste feigned an inspection of her freed nails, debating silently to herself whether or not to kill this bothersome creature, giddy with every chance it took against her patience. The witch remained uncertain why she adhered to this course of action in favor to another, but it had its values in entertainment she supposed. What was the worth of one life to the cost of millions, after all? The circumstances in their own right made it rather fascinating to find out.

And what was one feckless demon to the scope of that?

”Well, we must keep our secrets, mustn't we?” She would offer an amused hum, tapping at her cheek playfully. ”I’d attribute your blissful ignorance to the ancient’s painstaking efforts in keeping themselves hidden. They so wished to avoid unwelcome visitors after all,” added the witch loftily, making to eye the vampire again with a narrowed gaze. ”I’m painfully reminded why.”

There came a booming commotion from the other end of the sizeable room, doors slammed open as a handful of surviving monks hurried forward through the threshold. Oh, wonderful. Their chatter and bickering over their mission to secure and preserve the sanctuary reverberated the pair’s direction. Shouts proclaiming the ‘traitor’ had brought along an ‘abomination’ for help persisted, the witch offering a disdainful sigh to their arrival when the monks charged their position up the stairs. Celeste offered the silver-haired enigma another glance, malice glinting in scarlet, her tone rather mirthful.

”Well, it’s been charming, but I do believe that’s my cue. Ta.” The blond and book would vanish in umbral smoke, emerging on the far side of the room atop the opposing stairs, where she would bid the other girl a salute before vanishing deeper into the archives. ”Damn, it’s a succubus! Don’t let it escape!” The monks ascended the flight rapidly, aiming to try and catch the ‘accomplice’ with some surprise ki blasts and weapon strikes in attempts to pin her down.

TWC(+777)2451
Qarinah

It wasn’t a rather normal day for the monk formerly known to the world as Jeffery. Who the hell was Jeffery? “Oh, he was just some bloke down the street!” they used to say, many a year before he left his quiet, uninteresting life in the suburbs of West City. Nobody was ever afraid of Jeffery - who could be? He had watered his plants every morning and evening, routinely collected the paper, and arrived to and left his employment dutifully on time. His stamp collection had been going swimmingly, he was up to over five hundred and thirty-nine thus far. Life seemed pretty content at the time for Jeffery.

That was until a demon came to Jeffery’s book club, and attempted to feed on his soul. A demon not too dissimilar from the one which now seized his throat, turned his skin red for all the anguish and strain he made to keep the fiend from collapsing his windpipe. He hated them, they took his neighbor, his family, and even the girl he had a crush on who also enjoyed a book he loved. Jeffery stared back hard at a face he didn’t wish to see before his end, not without some humiliation to their kind at least. The demon had asked something of this order, a group he barely knew anything about – this was only his third month as a disciple, as he was now called. They took him in after the incident, desired answers about a girl but he didn’t know who she was either.

Jeffery mustered the last of his defiance, face turning redder as he began to shake in her grasp. A whorl of moisture as the monk would spit in Qarinah’s face, making to stare to the heavens as a prayer was offered to the Kami in turn.

Into the dark the witch had wandered, the density to the shadows becoming ever more bothersome with each passing, aimless step forward. Maybe she had too much on her mind today, truly, for it was the only explanation she continued to amble about like some helpless city-dweller. Celeste would pause, hold out a hand to a hollow chime, flash of light and umbral as Staff of the Moon was called forth. A gentle wave of the weapon and the crescent atop it would begin to emit a soft glow in the darkness, illuminating the crossroads of corridors she had come to.

What I’d give for a map to this place the witch mused wryly in silence.

A glance east, a glimpse to the west, a finalizing stare to the path forward – north. Each way only led even deeper to respective divisions, all entailing their own rightful area of demonology. Fortunately, that’s all this place would pertain to. North was always divination, no matter what city this place relocated to when needed, that was at least one thing Celeste always could never forget. Something about habitual designer’s flaw, a joke her father’s pals were keen to make about the former Elder. With that being said, all that remained was where to uncover the likely location of this damned grimoire’s key. The witch decided she would take the western route, Alchemy & Artifice, surmising they might have set up the goldsmith somewhere back there.

Celeste would dim the light of the staff, then proceed to continue on – heels clicking in echo to an old lullaby hummed softly from her lips.

PL: 52,000 | Antisense: ON
- summons Staff of the Moon to shed some light on her situation then braves the dark of Moria
TWC:(+572)3023
Qarinah