just a little chaos

[Atra]

"Do it," his voice, soft and lacking any semblance of sanity, urged the young man on like a mother urging her child to dive into the deepest part of the lake. The man, a young husband of two or three years, was standing stock-still, tears streaming down his Olithsir face. The small blade clutched in his hand was already coated in his wife's crimson life source. Staring down at his one and only daughter, a young, plump girl of six or seven, he felt himself reach forward, thrusting the blade into her heart as a cry escaped his trembling lips.

Satiated, Nikolas released his victim from his trance. No longer under control of the demented lesser demon, the young man collapsed to the floor in shame, fear, and horror. Clutching his shattered family to him, neither of whom were even close to breathing, he manged to gasp out: "Why?"

A smile curled up Nikolas's lips. He took out his own blade, a deadly looking, curved blade reminiscent of a bird of prey's talon. "Why not?" he said simply, before slashing the throat of the man who had done him no wrong.

He had forgotten where he was in the half an hour he had spent tormenting and murdering the innocent family. Then he remembered: Ashfall. The place he called home. It was unusal for him to commit a murder so close to home. Then again, it was also unusual for a normal, happy family to live in a place like Ashfall. He was unable to pass up the chance for a little life-crashing.

Setting his array of small blades down on the ground, he sat down and looked up at the sky. It had grown to dusk while he was inside the small middle class cabin. He sat down on the cold ground and admired what he had just done. He had come out it surprisingly clean, with very little blood on his black and white clothing.

[Roxilicious]

"I wonder if there are any strawberries in this black town?"

A voice, sounding somewhat broken and a little off-beat, entered within Nikolas' earshot. Not long after the question was posed, the asker could be seen as she emerged from behind a house. She was walking around Ashfall in search for a meal or maybe some precious gems or a really cool rock or something. Her gait wasn't rhythmic. It was entirely erratic as she looked up and down and side to side with her unblinking, wide, electric-yellow eyes. Her grey hair was tied in a high ponytail, and it swung back and forth across her whole back as she walked. Her left wrist was being gripped tightly by her right hand, her long nails digging into her skin as she held her arms straight out and down.

Darcy Nightingale then caught sight of a suspicious, gloomy looking man with the essence of a dark, deathly shadow about him. Maybe he had strawberries! Yes, yes, one could only dream of a find so great!

The olisthir then began to run over to Nikolas Trucid. She had released her grip on her left wrist, though pink indentations could be seen where her nails had pressed into her epidermis. She raised her right hand as she ran, one finger pointed up, and she cried out, "Excuse me, sir! Sir? SIR! Pardon me, sir! Sir, I have a question!"

She stopped her considerably annoying questioning when she reached Mr. Trucid, running in front of him to prevent him from going this way or that. Sure, he might have been sitting, but you could never trust those men. They could get up lightning fast and run away just like that!

Darcy looked earthward, interlocking her gaze with Nikolas'. Her vibrant eyes were wide and full of desperation and mania. She smiled hugely before begging the question, "Pardon me, sir, but do you perchance have any strawberries on your person, please? I could use some strawberries for my dinner tonight, please. It would be most appreciated."

As she asked her question, Darcy scratched up and down her left arm somewhat slowly, almost as if she were nervous, if she could be considered normal. This was, however, just one of her mad ticks. She didn't hold back on the pressure, either. She continued to smile and look at Nikolas as she waited for an answer.

[Atra]

Sometimes, Nikolas wished he were a canine simply for the fact that they could do that thing with their ears when they twitch them towards whatever sudden, unnanounced sound came their way by accident. Thinking about it, in his post-murder euphoria, was almost amusing. They looked so informed when they twitched their ears like that. Suddenly he grew angry. Why couldn't he twitch his ears towards the sound of... what? In his frustration of not being able to control his ears, he had forgotten the sound that had alerted him in the first place. Now it had stopped.

Oh, but there was a girl standing right next to him. He should probably attend to that.

Without realizing he was doing it, he snatched up his weapons and stood, concealing them both in one fluid motion. What was she rambling about? Strawberries? Weird.

Usually, Nikolas would probably cut her throat and walk away, but for two reasons he didn't. In order of most importance:

Reason number one: He had just murdered a family of three. Not that he couldn't murder another, of course, but he didn't feel the need anymore. He was satiated already, his bloodlust subdued. Not quenched, obviously, never quenched, but subdued. He was experiencing the post-chaos euphoria that made him feel a greatly lessened need to cut Darcy's head off.

Reason number two: He could sense murder on her skin. She had killed before, probably ruthlessly and without cause. This was someone he could relate to, right off the bat. Plus she appeared as crazy, if not crazier than he was. She, too, seemed to have zero knowledge of normal social protocol.

He didn't like her, of course; Nikolas never liked anyone. However, he got as close as he ever did. He didn't want to kill her. So he decided to do what he never did: talk to someone.

"Not on me, but maybe in the house. Just try not to step in the blood... wouldn't want you to get in trouble." He had thought he'd seen a shelf in the small, clean kitchen dedicated to fruits and vegetables. Whether strawberries were there or not, he wasn't sure.

Standing, he strolled into the house, indicating for Darcy to follow. There, on the top shelf, stood a small ceramic bowl filled with strawberries. Unfortunately, this is where Nikolas had forced the husband to murder his wife, so there was quite a bit of blood spatter on them. Reaching to the top shelf and pulling the bowl down, he dropped it on the counter.

"There's blood on them," he said simply, like someone commenting on how nice the weather had been lately. The weather had been a bit unusual, actually... Although he didn't really see how strawberries related to weather. Why was he thinking about strawberries? Why was her arm pink?

"What happened to your arm? Who are you?" he asked the questions like they were related to each other, then turned, not listening for an answer, and admired the carnage that lay on the floor below them. He looked at the bodies like they were his heart and soul, giving his black eyes an unnatural gleam of pride and love.

[Pyrixs]

Pyrixs had watched the murders from a dark alley without moving nor making a sound. After watching the girl run up to Nikolas he used the walls of the buildings he jumped onto one of the roofs and made his way to the back of building that Nikolas had entered. He quietly forced one of the windows open, slipped inside avoiding the pools of blood and listened to Nikolas ask the girl who she was, that's when he decided to speak, "I should ask you the same thing. It's obvious you're not one of the holy beliefs."

Pyrixs walked out of the shadows into the room reveling himself and looked around the room before speaking again, "Very nice, I like your style."

[Roxilicious]

Darcy obediently followed Nikolas, as if she were under his compulsive spell without him even having to try. She looked around the house immediately, with large, perceptive eyes, taking in every detail of the small house that she could. Her primary focus, however, was a bowl of strawberries. And when Nikolas pointed it out to her, she couldn't have been happier.

The olisthir didn't hesitate to run over to the counter, disregarding any puddles of blood she spattered in as she dashed. She immediately grabbed the bowl of strawberries and popped a whole one into her mouth, leaves and everything. There was a bit of blood on that one, but not enough to satisfy her desire for savory goodness.

Darcy walked over to the woman's dead body as Nikolas asked her about herself. She ignored him for the moment, much too eager to delve into her beautiful meal that she didn't even have to work for to acquire! Strawberries and meat? Today was just her lucky day.

She pulled a throwing knife out from a sheath on her belt and cut open the woman's skin on her arm. She hated the skin and the layer of fat just underneath it on woman. Instead she cut right into the muscle, snatched a handful with her claw-like fingernails, and ripped it out to the best of her ability. She ate another strawberry whole and took a bite from her muscly meal in her other hand. The perfect combination of sweet and savory. Darcy was in Zerua.

"My name is Darcy Nightingale," she said when she had a clear mouth. "And I happened to my arm, mister."

Darcy looked at Nikolas and smiled wide, her pupils very large in the dim light of the cabin, almost reaching the black circles that surrounded them. Pieces of strawberry and human flesh were still lodged in between her teeth, and her smile had the all-around color of blood to accent it. Then Pyrixs revealed himself in the cabin.

She just looked at him with her electric gaze, a small trickle of blood slowly dripping from the corner of her now-closed mouth.

[Atra]

Again, Nikolas had the odd sensation of absence as he thought his ears should be twitching toward the new sound. The stranger came in, and at first, Nikolas was wary; then he realized that he, too, was a murderer. It was an odd 6th sense that he possessed, or perhaps it is just very easy to pick a scoundrel out of a crowd.

When the stranger complimented his style, Nikolas beamed with satisfaction. Pride coursed through his veins and electrified his blood. It really was a glorious kill, wasn't it? "Thanks, they did most of it themselves though," he said mischievously, throwing in an out-of-place wink. It looked awkward coming from him.

Turning his attention to Darcy who had, while Nikolas was talking, begun eating his victims, he admired her disgusting smile. It stretched wide and showed what remained of Nikolas' kill. It was glorious. Weird, certainly, but glorious.

"I'm Nik. I don't really want to kill you," he stated matter-of-factly.

[Pyrixs]

"My name is Pyrixs, and I wouldn't want to kill you either." Pyrixs said to Nikolas before looking over to Darcy, "You have some blood on your face."
Pyrixs turned back to Nikolas as he ran the word, Nightingale through his head. Nightingale, it sounds familiar but yet I can't remember where I first heard it from

Pyrixs examined Nikolas and just from appearance and the murders, Pyrixs liked him.

"So Nik, you've live here in Ashfall, I assume, of all those years have you ever seen a man in a red hooded cloak that only covers his shoulders and part of his chest, ever pass through here?" Pyrixs asked, "I need to find this man.."

Pyrixs cut himself short when he noticed movement in a window behind Nikolas so he pushed him to the side before diving out through the glass window and tackling the seventeen year old boy that had stopped and looked in.

The glass had shattered cutting Pyrixs and his clothes but it didn't bother him one bit as he slammed the boy into the ground letting his blood drip to the floor.

"Don't try to struggle, you'll only make it worse for yourself, but I wouldn't mind if you did." Pyrixs said pulling the now tattered and bloody cloth off of his left hand then grabbing the boy by his face.

Tears streamed down from the boys fear filled brown eyes as Pyrixs blood dripped onto his face from a small cut in his cheek, but the fear in his eyes were quickly replaced by pain as he started to thrash and scream. The air filled with the smell of burning flesh as Pyrixs slowly burned the boys face.

[Atra]

Pondering for about half a second, he hadn't noticed when Pyrixs pushed him to the side; it appeared as if he had suddenly materialized two feet to the side. He looked at Darcy as if to ask "How did I get over here?" but an amused grin broke across his face as he took in her bloody appearance. "I've never eaten my victims before," he mused gently, "Do the strawberries really make it taste good?" he aked before he heard the screaming.

It was eerie, really, when something was screaming and he wasn't the one causing it... It was like seeing someone who looked exactly like yourself, but being confused as to how you're over there when you're clearly standing right here. Except with sound. This brought an idea to his mind, using a skill he rarely touched, but in light of recent events he realized it would maximize effectiveness of focusing on two things.

Feeling deep inside him, he conjured up the power of his birthsign. The shadow, an apt birthsign; the sign for a majority of murderers, he guessed. He felt it, the power he was looking for was lokated at a point in the back of his neck, a tingling sensation. The air next to him darkened, and then there were two of him. He stared at himself, the extension of his psyche, and controlled the second him to the window.

Making his way over to the window, a few feet below which Pyrixshad a boy pinned down and screaming, he crossed his arms and rested his chin on them nonchalantly. He gave the boy a cursory glance before turning his attention to Pyrixs. "Nope, I couldn't say that I have. I'll keep my eye out, though," he promised, watching the pain on the boy's face with an almost bored expression. The look in the kid's eyes was that of desperation. It screamed for help, but Nikolas was not one to offer help. Especially when someone he had recently decided to not side against was currently in the process of murdering someone.

"Why were you looking in here? The Nikolas by the window asked, boredom in his voice. "And why are you looking for this guy? Who is he?" Nikolas asked, hoping that maybe if her knew the man's name or his habits he could be more helpful in finding him.

The Nikolas inside the house was still looking over Darcy, taking in her expression, the way her face had dropped it's smile when Pyrixs had come. "Do you know him?" he asked, curiously, wondering why she seemed to distrust him. What if they had been secret lovers at some point? That would be awkward. If Nikolas met any of the girls he had relations with, especially if they were eating flesh and strawberries; well, he would pitch himself out the window as well.

[Roxilicious]

"Strawberries, strawberries, strawberries for everyone!" Darcy giggled wildly, one of her eyes open a teeny bit wider than the other. She heaved the ceramic bowl into the air while holding onto it, allowing for the laws of physics to take the strawberries on a flying journey. They succumbed to the force of gravity, hitting the floor, and then to the force of inertia, bouncing around until they lost all momentum and found rest.

She sighed with delight and satisfaction, falling onto her back and tossing the ceramic bowl into the air and to the side. It shattered from the tremendous force of hitting the ground, the pieces flying in every which direction.

"Who's 'him'?" she inquired, turning her head to face Nikolas, even though it rested on the ground of the cabin. "You're him. And he's him. To which him are you referring? I'm not him. I only know me. I don't know you him or he him over there. Do you know he him? Do you know me? Let's be friends."

Darcy jumped up immediately, wiping the blood drop on her reddened arm. The scratch marks themselves were very superficial and beginning to fade, but her skin still retained streaks of red. She skipped over to Nikolas, ignoring the broken pieces of ceramic on the floor under her bare feet. She hated shoes. They were so suffocating.

"My name's Darcy Nightingale!" the olisthir repeated again, as if she had never said it the first time. She grabbed Nik's forearm with both of her hands and shook it, trying to imitate the familiar handshake of acquaintance she'd seen so many times in normal social interactions but failing miserably to do so. "And, sir, who might you be?"