middaeg | August Catch-All

There seemed to be more to deal with this month; Nicolas’s disappearance, the pain from the growths in her arms, and going on to her fourth month without a bond. It had been manageable for a while, but the added stressors made it difficult to keep herself contained. The only relief, or the most she could find, was in the water. It gave her a sense of calm, a place where she could let go, though there was still that fear of letting go too much. Still, it was her best remedy as of now, and so she found the closest source she could get to before her legs shifted into her tail.

If she stayed in here, it should be fine. Keep her focus, not to allow herself to relax too much, she can keep in control.

At least, until a sound from above catches her attention. Was someone walking by? Were they friendly? Were they a threat? She had to know, that’s all it was. The merrow surfaces and begins to sing, a soft, soothing song that catches the person's attention. They stop in their tracks, then head towards the source, unwitting to any danger he may be walking towards.

Maria hasn't had the... greatest night of her life. She expected the clapback for her offer to the Monsters, but she's still standing by it. She walks, and thumbs through a few of the responses. It's the same tiring retort, of course. Yes, it is killing things. Yes, that is generally a bad thing. No, she will not back down, because she will not stand idly by while others are murdered.

The people that recommend the restraints... that's something she disregarded initially - it is not in her Hunter's toolkit to restrain a Beast, and even with blood infusion, it was impossible to hold one still, so why would she ever do that? Still, it strikes her here. She has magical binds, and the beasts aren't all stronger, if she imbues herself properly.

No, it matters not. And it's then a sound catches the edges of her hearing. There is one modification she's made to her hunter's toolkit, and that's a pair of little cotton earplugs, tucked into a pocket of her coat. That sound, a few notes, but the pull is undeniable, and she digs in her heels, pocketing the device suddenly and fishing for the earplugs. It may be nothing - the song of the "siren" type monsters was common on a full moon. Most were just calls to others of their kinds, or to Bonded, or mates, or whatever, but in the off chance this isn't, Maria points her boots toward it, once the earplugs are safely in, and begins to walk. The little device is ignored, for now.

When she sees the person meandering toward the water with the look of one enthralled, Maria pauses, and slips quietly behind a nearby tree, keeping herself low so her pale hair and skin does not catch the moonlight too easily. Her stomach flips, slowly.

Ugh. Merrow. Why did it have to be a fish?

She hopes this is nothing. She's been hoping it's nothing all night. She doesn't want to give the overreactors a justification for their hysteria. She wants to assume people will make good choices, to save them from the consequences of her own. But the person wanders toward the scene, and Maria keeps an eye out. Her lower position and the bank hide Alex from view, so instead, Maria focuses on watching the man, seeing what happens to him.

Alex continues to sing, despite not sensing any danger from the man. Her eyes stay trained on him. She almost stops, almost, but another instinct starts to creep up. She waits till he takes that first step into the water, and then she moves.

The tune flows out of her mouth as she wades backwards, leading the man further into deeper parts. He didn't seem to care as the water rose up towards his waist, willing to follow the merrow's enchantment.

It doesn't stop. Maria can't hear it very well, but she can hear a slight shift in the tone. She doesn't know what to make of it, but it gives her a deep sense of dread, and so she creeps forward, slowly, so the motion doesn't grab any attention until she's within a closer striking distance.

Of course, topping the bank down into the water means Maria can peer down, see which Merrow it is about to cause havoc... and the pit of her stomach drops out. She knows the sensation - it's the same sense of gutpunched dread she got whenever one of her fellow scholars succumbed to the Beasthood. When someone she'd spent long hours and restless nights exchanging notes and fervent theories about the cosmos and the Great Ones, and the blood, and the Tomb of the Gods split out of their human skin in a violent approximation of a moth or butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, revealing the beast within the frames of all men.

She would have to treat the end the same way, as well. She would have to harden her heart to it, as she had done dozens of times before. In the back of her mind, she can hear the protests from her earlier post, and it wrinkles her nose. Fine, maybe if she can step in before this becomes deadly, she can save two lives. She creeps forward a bit closer, until she knows she can teleport down to where the man is, then pauses, and stands fully. If her sudden appearance at the top of the bank wasn't attention-grabbing enough, though, she draws her sword, and separates the two blades with a startlingly loud clang that portended the deaths of scores of Beasts before, and might very well end up the same again.

"Merrow," she says, rasps, really, her soft voice more strained than usual, because she can't call Alex by name. She can't soften her heart at this point. "Leave him be."

Alex startles at the sudden hindrance, hissing at the blade pointed at her. Her fins flare out when they finally do sense a threat, but a moment of looking at Maria's face brings a sense of familiarity to her. Through the fog of the moon, she can tell she knows this person. The man stops when he is blocked, but it takes him a little longer to full snap out of it.

"Maria?" She calls out, the enchantment still lacing her voice. Her eyes don't show recognition as much as it does a shift of interest.

"Are you here to help me?" As if to ignore that she was the one being threatened, Alex moves closer, close enough for the tip of the blade to just barely touch her neck.

"Or are you here to help him?"

The voice is dulled, and Maria has an awful lot of willpower to fight subjugation, but even still, what little does get past the earplugs she has brushes across her senses like the gentle caress of a lover on bare skin. The sound of her own name brings the same amount of gooseflesh rising along her back and arms as such a touch, too, and not all of it is out of terror or revulsion.

Gods, how bad must this be if she didn't have those earplugs in? There'd be two victims this night.

Though, if Alex wants to put the sword against her own throat, then Maria will oblige her. She holds out her other hand - her left hand - the dagger end of the Rakuyo pointed outward like a crossing guard for a railroad, and Maria tilts her head toward the man near her, eyes still locked firmly on the form in front of her.

"Leave," she says to him, pushing as much of her will - magical and otherwise - as she can into that one command. With his mind already befuddled by the merrow subjugation, maybe he'll be more open to magical suggestion. Maria doesn't want any witnesses anyway, if things do have to get violent.

"I'm here to prevent anything from happening either way," she says by means of response to Alex's question.

Edited 2019-09-02 01:33 (UTC)

It takes a moment for the man to snap out of his daze enough to notice the unsheathed weapons, and those plus her command were enough to have him back up and ultimately hurry out of there in both confusion and fear.

It's not so much the loss in prey that has Alex slowly start to simmer, but the insinuation that this woman could get in her way.

"By keeping me company all evening?" She asks, lifting a hand to trace a scaled finger along the side of the sword.

Good, now they're alone, and as the man's footsteps fade into the distance, Maria's stance becomes... somewhat more rigid. She can prevent any more victims tonight - all it will take is a flick of that sword - but at the same time... no one has died yet. Perhaps there is still a way to salvage this.

"Perhaps in other circumstances, I would," Maria answers, and her tone is so purposefully neutral, it's hard to tell if she's lying or not. Absolutely not wars with the battering her willpower takes from the power of the Merrow's voice enchantment, an enchantment which seems to have sunk its claws firmly into the stray, passing acknowledgement Maria has allowed herself that Alex is an attractive woman.

She blinks, squeezing her eyes shut momentarily, and in that heartbeat-breadth moment, her sword is buried half to the hilt through the throat of a pale fish-woman, Alex's dark skin and black scales replaced with the sickly pale, semi-iridescent shining white of those touched by Kos and her parasites, grasping hands and a mouth open in a scream.

Why do they always scream?

Maria's eyes snap open, and her head tilts up and back a little; back to reality, her mind is focused again, mired in the familiar misery of her sins. Alex is... a closer acquaintance than others, she can honor her with the choice of giving up predation, or a swift and painless death. Maria can do that much, as she had done for some of her fellow scholars before (though the option of just walking away was never really an option in those days, if it had been, it would be the same offer, Maria thinks).

"Don't call any more over to this place, and I'll let you escape with your life, Merrow," she states, then, matter-of-factly, voice still carefully, particularly, too neutral and unruffled. Like this is just business. Like she doesn't know Alex. Like she can't think of her as anything more than another beast to slay.

Edited (tfw you really like a tag but you keep picking at it to make it more better) 2019-09-05 23:07 (UTC)

Alex watches her cooly, observing, studying. Maria seemed...uncomfortable. The distanced manner of speech, the way she pulled away while still holding her ground, as if using her sword to separate them more than using it as a threat. Alex wasn’t blind to how Maria would only allow her so close, that awkwardness between due to something untold. Alex never questioned her about it, it didn't feel right to do so. Those were on regular days, however, whereas full moons were the time to cross all those carefully guarded lines.

"Are you afraid to say my name?

Are you worried you wouldn't be able to follow through?"

There was almost some glee reflected in her dark eyes, the mere thought of unnerving someone of Maria's caliber.

“Do you not want to hurt me?”

The hand against the blade turns to wrap her fingers gingerly around the sword. With one move, Alex could very well lose all the fingers on that hand. But maybe that was part of her own threat.

A challenge. A dare.

Edited 2019-09-16 21:13 (UTC)

There's a very, very long moment, as Maria stares down the sword, listens to Alex, watches her impetuously grab the sword like the merrow knows Maria won't move it and risk cutting her. She wants to jerk the sword, to bite the edge into the fingers, at least - not to sever them entirely, but to remind Alex that she can and will draw blood, but she also puts that off. Not because of the lack of desire to hurt the other woman, but because the desire is entirely pedantic and won't get either of them anywhere.

At least the words are more of a challenge, and Maria can focus on that, rather than the deep urge in her gut to abandon her sword, to see what Alex actually will do to her. Would she just simply drown her? Or has Maria irked her enough that she'll take some kind of time trying to kill her...? Or maybe - maybe the little promise that keeps that tone purring will come to fruition and Alex will have a very different kind of fun with Maria before she kills her...

What Maria hates most, though - more than the thought in her mind that it wouldn't be such a bad way to die - is that Alex is right. She doesn't want to hurt her. She just

doesn't

want to kill anyone anymore.

"No," she says, finally, voice soft enough to almost be the truth. "I don't want to visit violence on someone who has not shown the same to others. But... I will, if you insist on trying to hurt anyone else, Alex. Now, can I leave you to your business this night?"

There, she said it. And she says it with a very purposeful, well-enunciated tone, because some of the pedantry had to come out somehow.

There’s a chill that runs down her spine from the way Maria emphasizes her name, though not an unpleasant one.

“Leave? I thought you were going to stay with me?” There’s a hint of sadness in her tone, although none of that is shown in her face, a disconnect that made the sincerity of it questionable. But her eyes stay on Maria’s, as if trying to hold her down with just a gaze.

Maria really wants to ask why would I do that? And it's true - she has other things to do this night, if she has a feckless Mer she can catch and release back to the water if she'll behave. Luckily, she is low on sympathy, and the lonely key in the tone only kind of hits her. It probably helps that Maria is not, by any form of her nature, very lonely. She is fine by herself if she needs to be.

"No," she says, firmly, the first bit of true clarity in her mind in several long moments. She can't stay, no matter how alluring that tone of voice is, and what thoughts it keeps stirring up in her mind. She can't stay because she has other things to do. She can't stay because if she does, she might give in to that temptation. "I am... just here to make sure you don't harm anyone. If you won't, then I have no further business."

And she - with a surprising touch of delicacy - tugs on her sword to free it from Alex's grasp. She's trying not to cut deeply, but Alex is going to get hurt if she holds on too tightly.

"Alright, then."

The moment Maria starts to pull the sword away, Alex grips it tighter, the blade pressing against her scales. It’s not until she pull the sword, and thus Maria, towards her that the blade actually cuts through, blood staining the steel. With her free hand. she grabs Maria from the front of her clothing, yanking her into the water.

Edited 2019-09-17 22:47 (UTC)

The first sign something is wrong is the resistance she feels when she tries to bring the sword back. Natural reaction should probably just be to let go of a sharp object before it hurts you, and yet nothing is forthcoming. However, Maria's mind is a bit addled from the compulsion in the siren's voice, so there's nothing but a brief, dull, confused moment where she doesn't understand what's happening, and then she's falling toward the water, her tall frame versus Alex's much lower center of gravity working against Maria.

Just like that, the Hunt calls, and Maria answers it. The surge of adrenaline hits, clearing her thoughts, or at least spurring her body into battle muscle memory, and she rolls into the fall, splashing down into cool water. A moment later, she comes up enough to dig her feet into the muddy bank beneath the shallows of the water, and wrench her sword free, no matter what it does to Alex's hand.

She only has a split second to react - if the merrow can get into water any deeper than where they're at now, she'll lose her, or she'll be in danger of getting dragged further under. If they get further up the shore, she'll have a better shot of restraining - I thought I wanted to kill them - her prey. So she lunges forward, shifting her grip on the long end of the Rakuyo, slamming the dagger end back into its holster at once, to stab the blade hard between Alex and deeper water; though it's not entirely clear if she's aiming to miss on purpose, or she's compensating for which way she's assuming Alex will move. It doesn't matter if the sword finds some sort of purchase or not, because she hurls her whole body forward to grab the Merrow with the thrust - around Alex's waist, grab a fin, it doesn't matter, Maria just wants purchase on the slick fish scales so she can haul them both over closer to the shore.

She'd forgotten how strong a Beast could be, and how weak she feels without her Blood-imbued strength, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have a size and weight advantage she's going to use.

The blade does cut through the scales, but not deep enough for a serious injury. Red taints the water as she brings her hand down, the water somewhat easing the sting. Her instincts tell her to get to deeper waters, but it seems Maria’s had already warned her of that as Alex is blocked by her sword. She tries to move away, but finds her self stuck—One of her fins had been pinned down, that slight tingle of pain coursing through the thin membrane. Turning to Maria, she hisses aggressively, baring sharpened teeth as the witch lunges at her.

Avoiding Maria’s grasp seemed inevitable, but she wasn’t going to make it that easy. Alex squirmed and wrestled against her hold as best as she could, claws digging into Maria’s arms as she tried to push herself off of the other woman. She could sink her teeth right into that pale neck if she wanted to end this quickly, and yet, Alex makes no move to do so. Not yet, anyway.

Edited 2019-09-18 06:28 (UTC)

"Alex!" Maria snarls, between the splashes, and the hisses, and the grunts of exertion, her tone carrying the clear command of stop this. Maria sets her jaw, lips pulling back over her (fangs, yes - fangs, she was never as human as she seemed) teeth as she moves again, another mighty counter-motion to Alex's struggles to get away. She can ignore the searing, bruising crush of claws trying to worm their way through the many and thick layers of her hunter's gear; even without the direct skin contact she can feel the abrasion beginning, and knows she will not have long before they find purchase in her flesh.

She would gladly sacrifice something else in place of her neck, were it to come to that - she knows where her softer targets are, and she is absolutely ready to sacrifice something else to protect them, but there's no direct threat there. Not yet.

So she can keep working on what she was, which is bodily wrestling with Alex, twisting and yanking and heaving her weight and all the strength she can muster in this now weakened and aging human form of hers to fight the beastial strength, to get them further out of the water.

The scent of blood - tangy, metallic, sweet - hits her nostrils, and her mouth waters.

She doesn't know if it's bloodlust or revulsion, though. Especially not with the murky scent of the muddy water mixing with the much more alluring sanguine (sticky) scent.

("Blood-crazed fiends...")

She wrenches them both to the side closer to the shore once again, and reaches out to grab her sword, turning the blade toward Alex and dragging it through the mud it was lodged in, toward her. Maybe she'll use the threat of pain to break the much-closer-to-a-stalemate-than-she-likes of their positions. If nothing else, she can trap Alex between her sword and herself.

Why are you trying to get her to shore?

All you have to do is stab her and kill her...

Her name falls on deaf ears as Alex continues to fight her grip. That Maria could still hold her weight the way that she did was impressive, but the water was still on Alex’s side, giving her the strength she needed to even the playing field for her. When she notices Maria coming at her with her sword, Alex uses her tail to sweep under Maria’s legs. Instead of pinning Maria down, however, she uses the opportunity to jump loose and create some space between.

She dives into deeper waters, silent as she circles around. Maria might catch sight of the dark figure slithering beneath, but whether she does or not, a sudden wall of water splashes up towards her face to obstruct her view for just a few seconds. She’ll feel two hands take hold of her arms, pulling her forward.

Fish scales are slippery, and it's always been hard to keep a good grip on them. Maria wishes she didn't have more experience with this, but she does, and as the merrow manages to slip from her grip (and who knows if she just nicked herself on the sword, but it doesn't matter), she backs up a couple steps, closer to the shore. Standing in deeper water is just inviting trouble... and...

Hm.

Given the chance to catch her breath for a scant moment, Maria reaches up to her throat, and unclasps the tie of her cape. The cape is treated leather, but with all the rest of the water seeping into her clothing, she's getting weighed down too much. She needs more mobility. She casts it back up onto the shore, not taking her eyes off the water.

Sure enough, as soon as the cape lands, the water surges forward with more force than it rightfully should this close to shore, and Maria instinctively slashes back, the Rakuyo neatly slicing a line through water and nothing more. How clever a cover.

Maria's not used to something so small splashing through the water after her. She's used to the giant shark-creatures - three times her size at least - as they slid along their bellies through the flooded streets of the fishing hamlet, mouths open, roaring that weird, deep-throated roar of theirs, trying to consume everything in their path. Alex is much smaller, but that also gives Maria one other advantage. She will not be taken and hauled over into the deeper water again - fool her twice, and all. And, what's more... Maria's a foot or more taller than Alex.

Fingers find her wrists, forearms, whatever, claws testing the resilience of her gloves, grip crushingly tight and making her wrist bones creak, and yet Maria allows the grip to come to pass... just so she can grab back, at least with her free hand. Then, she fights back and up and over as well. Alex can't get a good grip on anything with a fish tail, and while the bottom of the lake is muddy and slick, at least it's more solid than water. Alex pulls one way, and Maria pulls a different - up, straight up, trying to get her up and out of the water as much as possible so her tail gets as little traction in it as possible. It doesn't matter that this is going to start to rapidly eliminate any space between either of them, unless Alex can back out of it fast enough to not end up belly-to-belly against Maria.

Because once Maria's fought her up into the air enough, she'll just twist to the side, using her weight and strength to haul them both over sideways, and further up the shore. Not under Alex, though. She's not feeling in the mood for bottoming tonight.

There's that brief moment of feeling victorious when Alex manages to get a hold of Maria's arm, but that soon is dispelled when she finds herself being yanked up and out of the water. Her eyes are wide at the ease it seems to happen, meeting Maria's for just a second before she finds herself down on her back.

The wind is knocked out of her momentarily, but once she regains her bearings, she tries to surge upwards towards Maria.

A notable scholar, and one of the most talented and effective of the early Hunters, Maria's faced far worse than one slippery fish, and she'll face worse again in the future. (Or will she?)

She presses her advantage, and the momentary pause as Alex stares up at her, the now much shallower water splashing up around them as Maria goes right to... straddle Alex's tail. She wasn't kidding about not being in the mood for bottoming this day, though she did forget, briefly, just how strong fish could be - tails mostly muscle and sinew, and it takes her plunking most of her weight down to try to hold Alex steady between her knees.

Maria's trying to concentrate on doing two things at once, so the lunge catches her more off-guard than she would like, and she throws her free arm into the way. She won't be able to catch Alex's hands, but she does shove the leading edge of her forearm... right into Alex's face, apparently less concerned about her back getting clawed up than her throat bitten. Honestly, she'd been aiming for the throat to shove Alex back down, but has to make do with what she gets. Even if she gets bitten in the process.

In her other hand, she shifts the grip on her sword, turning the long sword edge to point downward. All she needs is an opportunity to line this up, and she can end this fight in a single stroke.

The arm hits her face first, hard enough to indeed push her dance. Her eyes squeeze shut from the pain, but she channels that right to her mouth as she clamps her jaw down in Maria's arm. It was only fair, after all. Maria made her nose bleed, so Alex will make her arm do the same.

She tries to surge up again, but catches the glint of the sword. The merrow doesn't let go, bites down harder in fact, but she does stop thrashing around.

Ah, there it is. She was wondering when Alex would stop pulling her punches - those claws could rend through Maria's clothing if Alex so desired to, but they haven't really. Not yet, though they've come close.

Feeling the sharp edges of teeth against her wrist and forearm gives Maria a shudder of anticipation - of the pain she knows she's going to feel, as the leather starts to fail and the teeth sink deeper and deeper into it. It'll probably be thick enough leather to save her tendons and bones, but it's not long before the edges of where Alex has clamped down start to stain red as the blood oozes up through the holes.

Byrgenwerth... Byrgenwerth... blasphemous murderers... blood-crazed fiends.

She doesn't have much time left, especially with the flailing as it is, and she has to shove her weight back down harder to keep the slippery fish right where she has her. It's only once Alex stops that Maria sees her opportunity, even though the sharp teeth sink ever deeper into her wrist, and the blood wells and drips down her glove - some of it probably ending up in Alex's mouth, and just as much of it seeping down Maria's forearm. It hurts, but Maria has dealt with far worse.

Her free hand grips the sword and she reels back, shoving down with her arm to keep Alex held down even as she starts to line up the sword's deathly sharp tip with Alex's face.

One strike. It's all she'll need. She can end this in one strike. Swiftly, and as painlessly as possible. She can at least do that much for someone whom she's spent so much time having an affable relationship with. Just like the students at Byrgenwerth who succumbed to the experiments. The ones she knew well. The ones who turned to Beasts.

Atonement for the wretches, by the wrath of Mother Kos...

Then why is she hesitating?

Edited 2019-10-05 11:40 (UTC)

With her head pulled down more, all Alex can do is look up at Maria, straight into her eyes. Strangely enough, fear hadn't taken over. There was almost a challenge being communicated in the way she stared up at her. A combination of stubbornness and pride, a taste for that thrill that wasn't there before.

Do it.

Looking down her own blade might have been the worst mistake Maria makes all evening. That sword, which caused her so much trouble and grief (She'd said nothing, nothing at all, just snarled in anger as she pitched it down the well and stalked off, ignoring Gehrman's voice and the clatter of the sword against stone), pointed down at the defiant piscine visage. It was familiar... so familiar... too familiar, though less of the villagers had looked defiant as had looked terrified, had begged and pleaded and prayed to their Mother Kos to save their lives...

... Or curse the enemies that had done this to them.

Maria's glove creaks, leather pulled taught across her knuckles stretching further still as her hand flexes on the sword handle, so tight her forearm aches. One strike. That's all she needs. Just one. The Hunt has called, its heat singing through her veins.

I gave up being a Hunter years ago.

She stretches back a little bit further, lining up a yet more brutal strike. Bone is harder to pierce than soft tissue, but she can't guarantee she'll find Alex's eye socket with this one thrust. So she needs to make sure she can end this immediately.

Because...

Her jaw clenches tight.

"Curse the Fiends..."
I don't...

"Their children, too..."
Want to kill...

"And their children, forever, true."
Anymore.

And with a loud shunk the tip of the Rakuyo pierces down into the sand a scant inch from the side of Alex's head, the blow so hard it sinks the blade nearly two-thirds of its length in. Maria leans against the weapon, winded, shaking, looking suddenly so very drained. The fight's sapped out of her in one fell swoop, and all she can manage is, at the end, a very weak tug on her arm, and a wince as the sharp fangs open the wounds further.

"Alex... let me go. Please. You're right..." Her voice pitches up a bit, tense and hoarse and so very... very... sad. She sighs, closing her eyes, leaning her head against her sword bearing hand as though it is the admission that is causing her pain, and not something else. "I can't hurt you."

Edited 2019-11-05 06:31 (UTC)

At least this time, Alex can say she didn't look away. That didn't sound like such a bad way to go, not like the coward she's always been. Only when the blade comes down do her eyes squeeze shut, expectant of the pain that would follow, right before she would feel nothing at all.

But it never came. No cold steel tearing skin, blood squelching from the wound. The only blood was what she could taste in her mouth, seeping through the cloth. She hears the sword sinking next to her, and her eyes slowly open, confused as she stares up at Maria. But Maria isn't even looking at her.

She doesn't look like the hunter at all. Shaking, hunched over, like a warrior defeated. A person in pain, even. Even her voice, for a moment, the tightness in her throat so evident and the sadness just echoing through. It all catches the merrow of guard, her jaw slackening as she slowly releases Maria's arm.

But her sense haven't returned to her yet, not fully. Rather, her curiosity is piqued, mixed in with the confusion that she felt. Her hand rises slowly, lest Maria take it as a threat, but it almost felt like she wouldn't pull away even if it was. She touches her cheek with the tips of her fingers, sliding them up till her palm pressed against her face.

"Why not?"

Maria winces again as the teeth slide out of the wounds, and rather than the persistent pain of the bite, her arm is allowed to sting and ache as it bleeds into her glove. She cradles the arm against her stomach, ignoring the droplets of blood as they stain the front of her trousers. The cool night air sinks in to her water-soaked clothes, but it's not entirely the chill she feels from it that makes her shiver when Alex's hand caresses her cheek.

In fact, it's the gentleness of that touch which nearly unravels her entirely. She grabs desperately to whatever shreds of dignity she has left and cracks one eye open, looking down, meeting Alex's eyes. It helps, to see the slightly hazy edge of hyperfixation in that gaze that tells her a predator is looking at her; that there's still plenty of the Beast called "merrow" driving the other woman. She's not sure what Alex is going to do, if the tenderness of that touch is going to turn into fingers curling around her vulnerable throat - all she has protecting it at the moment is her cravat.

She realizes she doesn't really care, either, if that's how it goes.

Maria realizes, belatedly, she's been asked a question. She is so exhausted, so worn that for a moment she doesn't really know how to answer it. Not with the swirling in her mind, the bits and flashes that keep cropping up from that night. She never remembers all of it, but she does remember different parts of it nearly every time, even as she forgets others; that whole evening the broken cascade of words and images and feelings of someone who had imbibed far too much alcohol, and woke up somewhere unfamiliar, unsure how they got there.

She can't say it, though. Even with her broken weariness, she can't admit to what she did, and she's not sure her voice will last that long anyway.

"I've done enough," she replies, voice trembling; the tears she never did shed over the whole situation are stuck in her throat, and don't seem to be able to move to her eyes.

For a moment, Maria is glad she isn't Bonded; that she's been so stubborn and reticent about it. The ice she carefully constructed over that swirling, churning sea of despair has cracked, the black water flooding up through the breaks. No one needs to feel that first hand.

She wants this night to be over. She doesn't want this hunt anymore. She wants to go home, and go to sleep, and maybe when she awakens the nightmare will be over.

But first, she wants Alex back. So she stays.

The metallic taste of blood still lingers in her mouth, the smell of it also in the air. Alex's eyes look down at the stained clothing, then back to the state Maria was in. She props herself up on her free arm, moving closer towards the other woman.

"Why would you go through all of this..and not kill me?"

Edited 2019-11-08 21:45 (UTC)

"I am a Hunter," Maria says, hollowly, and immediately hears her own voice in her mind answer, no I am not. She rises, a bit, from where she was leaning so heavily against her sword, leaving it buried in the sand. Her mind bleats a tired warning - those teeth are sharp, and they're getting closer to her more vulnerable areas - but she ignores it just as wearily. "I hunt Beasts."

She takes a breath in, notes the metallic tang of blood still on the air, but doesn't feel the blood within her quicken at the scent of it, like it used to. Her bloodlust is gone, just as surely as the corruption from the Vileblood had also been stripped. She remains hunched over, but she's not leaning anymore. This is about as much energy as she can muster to meet her fate. She's a Hunter who is not a Hunter anymore... who cannot even Hunt. Not the way she used to.

"It is all I know. But... you are not a Beast, are you?"

Edited 2019-11-08 22:14 (UTC)

Alex's hand doesn't go after Maria as she pull away, slowly lowering as she takes in Maria's words.

"Even after everything..I did to you?"

There's a quiver in her voice, something more familiar to her usual tone. That she had done something so very wrong was only beginning to settle in Alex's mind, her instincts and her consciousness debating over what had transpired. Maria was intervening, the merrow was only defending herself. But Maria was her friend. If Alex could do that to someone she considered important, how could that make her anything but a beast?

"Why would you..Why did you let me do that?" Maria could have stopped her so easily, could have defended herself without a problem.

"Everything you did to me...?" What a strange turn of phrase for what happened - though that Alex is shifting the blame onto herself tells Maria that Alex - actually Alex - is returning to her, and whatever madness the moon and the merrow were influencing her with is fading.

But now there's a more delicate subject appearing. Maria lifts her injured arm a little - not flinching nor hissing at all, though the motion stings. "This? My glove took the brunt of it; this is nothing. You would have to try much harder to scar me as the Beasts at home have."

She shifts a bit, reaching down to delicately grip Alex's elbow. Assuring her is making it easy to stay calm, to make the screaming and curses and voices in her head fade away, though Maria's hands are still shaking.

"You were the one who gripped my sword. Let me see your hand - the Rakuyo's blade is not kind."

"Doesn't change the fact that you're bleeding." And thus Alex keeps her own injured hand to herself and resisting Maria's hold, squeezing it into a fist as the pain anchors her consciousness more.

"I shouldn't have--it shouldn't have even gone this far!"

"Alex," she barks, hoarsely. She can barely hold herself together at the moment - she's not sure she can support Alex too, so the best she can try to do is head it off before the worst begins.

(And she's afraid - terrified - that if Alex loses it, she will, too. She can't afford that right now.)

"We're both bleeding. This could have ended worse for both of us. So... please," she hates how weak and tired she sounds, but she can't muster the energy for anything else. The fading adrenaline, the relief of Alex's old demeanor returning, the slow ooze of blood out of the wounds on her wrist, they're all sapping her yet further. "Let me see your hand."

[ Alex winces as peels off the skin that had stretched out from the emergence of her fins, the smell of blood in the water making her cringe. It stung, much more than any of her other changes. New scales have formed beneath her skin surrounding the fins. The thoughts buzzed in her head loudly. How much more was going to appear? How much more was going to change? Worrick was here now, but Nicolas had gone missing. Would Worrick disappear as well? She didn’t want to lose any more people. She didn’t want to lose what was hers..

Her thoughts are interrupted by a familiar scent, ears perking up at the sound of footsteps not too far away. Someone was on the other side, tumbling out from the woods..and into her space. Her growing frustrations suddenly muted, but it they were still there. Her attention was just now directed elsewhere.

Her movement through the water remained careful, as if not wanting to alert the intruder of her presence. The water ripples lightly above as she swims just beneath the surface, her head only emerging when she closes in, blackened eyes peering up at the figure. ]

Edited 2019-08-16 06:45 (UTC)

( this is the third full moon that wolf has seen in aefenglom. the previous too had pulled new bestial aspects from him, and sometimes they had faded or become less conspicuous as time passed, though in general their essence had made itself permanent upon him. he has known, though perhaps he has ignored, the fact that a full transformation would come for him eventually. it was something in the future, and wolf had present concerns and worries to address.

but the full moon dawns upon him, and the change first makes itself known to him as a shiver — slight, at first, but then it is like an uncontrollable shudder one might do if chilled down to their bones. the involuntary aspect of that continues as the shuddering gives way to a sort of tearing, as if he were stretched so much at the seams that they began to become undone, the human skein he wore torn away until it revealed the beast beneath. wolf is grateful he is alone at home for this; he has to tug at articles of clothing that grow tight, taking off what he must. it is especially true for his prosthetic — his arm grows and the machine does not, and so he has to hurriedly grapple with the straps and clasps with a hand simultaneously in its own transformation. he is fortunate that he unlatches the prosthetic before it mangles what remains of his arm, though it does throb with pain from where the metal frame that keeps it attached to his upper arm dug into the flesh.

the moon does more than just change his physical shape. it calls out to him, drawing him from the safety and anonymity of his house and into the wild landscape of the city and its surroundings at night. his mind warps, a confusion of the new form and its accompanying instincts, and for a while he would find himself hard-pressed to recount what exactly he did. but he ends up ambling out of the woods and towards the shore, yellow eyes glinting in the dark as they ate up the sight of the huge full moon reflected upon the surface of the water.

the scents here are diluted and confused by the water, but he feels the prevailing edge of something oddly familiar. it makes him very wary, and as he approaches the shoreline, he can feel the fur along the nape of his neck bristle and stand on end. his eyes scan, but the darkness of the water conceals the danger from him — at least, until a cloud passes over the moon, robbing the water of its glare and allowing him to see the creature lying in wait beneath.

alarm and the confused ouroboros of hunter-and-hunted instincts blare inside his head, and wolf's lips peel back from his new set of canine teeth, and his clawed right arm tenses to lash out should she lunge at him. )

[ His eyes glow like yellow gems, shining brightly as they enticed her even more. How pretty would those be in the palm of her hand? His fangs have a similar effect, but of course, with the added threat. Her own mouth opens slightly, bubbles of air escaping between the teeth that sharpened as the months passed, her finned ears fanned out.

But that wasn't how merrow hunted. Not from the very start.

She reveals herself further as she surfaces just past her shoulders, water dripping down her hair and skin, some droplets catching on her lashes. The claws stay under for now. However, the moment her lips made it past the water, she begins to hum . The tune is soft and gentle, a contrast to the intensity in her eyes. It wasn't anything from her repertoire of songs, a melody made just for this prey. Something slow, nostalgic in its sound and feel.

Relax.

Come closer. ]

( tension races in the moment, and then it fades, fizzling out as the seconds ebb away with the tide. the figure of the merrow is still beneath the water's surface, flickering in and out of sight as the clouds pass by in the sky overhead. but she doesn't move to strike, and so wolf doesn't either. they stand at impasse until time robs some of the tension from his shoulders.

some of it returns when she drifts to the surface, head and shoulders emerging from the lapping waves. distantly, wolf sees that she is familiar, and perhaps he knows who she is, but it doesn't register in this moment, between the scent of danger and the instinctual aggression of monsters standing off. had his mind been clearer, he would have been more prepared for what happens next. he has encountered merrows in dreams. he knows the trickery they employ.

and yet, when she begins to hum, it all melts away. it turns to smoke, becoming intangible. the turnskin does not relax completely, but enough to let a sizable lapse in his guard slip.

he takes a step forward. perhaps he intended to circle her, but that would just be a lie he would tell himself. )

[ Her lips curve into a small smile to match the song, adding a bit more weight to the melody as she sings louder. On a cold night, there was a warmth to it, like honey mixing with tea. Cozy, inviting..

Take another, just another few steps.

Closer, enough to get a better look at those eyes.

A scaled hand raises up towards him, careful and smooth in its motion. It was either for him to take, or to invite him towards her even more, but it posed no threat in the way it was held out. ]

( he should know better. the denizens of the fountainhead palace would play sweetly on their flutes, and then they would use the selfsame instrument to cast a spell to steal away your youth and vitality. that had been an insidious ploy, and this one was similar, though far more brutal in its intention. distantly, in the back of his head, there is an alarm bell (be it shinobi training or turnskin instinct or both), but it is held in check by the power of the spell.

one step closer, then another. his expression is apprehensive, but the predatory eyes are cloudy, slightly vacant. between the newfound power of the lycanthropic influence over his thoughts and the song, it's hard for him to think.

the scaled hand lifts up from the water. wolf looks at it, not moving to take it. it's not even so much caution — he is a man not terribly accustomed to casual displays of closeness, affection, tenderness, care. his life had never allowed him such things, and he had never thought to take them for himself. so for the time being he remains inert in this particular manner.

but it does not dissuade him. another step closer. )

[ The closer he comes, the further into the deeper parts of the water Alex goes. She waits until Wolf is about knee deep before grabbing at his calf and pulling his leg forward. She lunges as he falls back, pinning him down by his shoulders against the water bank. It’s still shallow enough for him to raise his head above water, unless she decides to push down more.

Hovering over him, her eyes glow in the darkness created by her hair as it fell around his face, watching expectantly to see what he would do next. The way her tail glided from side to side was almost akin to a dog that had just gotten a new ball. More than murderous intent, it was a playful, but certainly dangerous, challenge that reflected in her eyes. Although Wolf may or may not see it as such. ]

( wolf doesn't have an innate fear of the water. before he had come here, he had learned a secret mibu breathing technique which had actually allowed him to breathe underwater — he hadn't had the opportunity to test it here, and perhaps he should have already suspected he was without it now, but just as his erroneous belief in still having his power of resurrection dulls his sense of self-preservation, so does this. it isn't until her clawed hand reaches out to grab his leg and pull it out from under him does he realize just what is happening. and how much of a fool he has been.

the turnskin snarls as he falls into the water with a splash, instinctively trying to sit up but finding himself otherwise pinned by the creature. he bares his teeth, a serrated growl tearing through his throat. it's only in times like these that his diminutive size becomes painfully apparent, because, even though he is fully-transformed, wolf is still not so large, impressive, or strong as other monsters.

but he is still a fighter.

wolf does not pick up on the nuance of her intent. were he still in his more human shape and more in control of his faculties, he might, or perhaps have tried to use words, but as it is now, he reacts purely on instinct. his missing arm is a frustrating hindrance, as it also upsets his balance, but he tries to gain purchase in the sand with his feet (paws) just enough so that he could twist his body, swiping at her with his clawed right hand with as much force as he can muster. )

[ The oncoming swipe has her reflexively pulling to the side, but not fast enough to not get hit. She rolls over, but all while still holding on to Wolfe. She attempts to keep it going, tumbling along the shore to return back to her position on top.

This time, she doesn’t give him as much leeway this time around, attempting to push him underneath the waves for longer when she gets the chance. Moving him deeper in might work better in her favor, but he’s still putting up a fight. Although, it probably wouldn’t as fun if he didn’t. ]

( the swinging mitt connects, and it bowls her over sideways, but unfortunately for wolf she pulls him along with her. they roll over several times in the surf; water splashes over him multiple times, stinging his eyes and filling his nose and partially-parted jaws. he splutters, chokes, snarls. in the end, he accomplishes little, still ending up pinned under her, precariously close to water that would be over his head no matter what he did about it.

though she can always try to force him under. she does, and a cascade of bubbles leaks from his jaws as he struggles against it. he has so little leverage in his arm — so he must use whatever else he has at his disposal. he writhes, trying to get into a position where he can kick at her with clawed hind paws, snapping at hands or arms or whatever is close enough to bite. )

August Catch-All

Maria and her AirPods

oh my god she can't hear the siren song oh my god Maria what are you doing she's right there

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