etraya | un: shadowheart

[Shadowheart appears punctually as promised, wearing armour and with an ornate spear strapped to her back. She brings Scratch along, not wanting to leave him on his own if she can help it, and the dog trails after her obediently, tail wagging more in curiosity than in overt excitement.

She stands for a moment, steeling her nerves as she surveys the place, making sure there's only one person who matches the description she's been given before approaching the dark-haired woman.]

Are you Vanessa Ives?

[ Given how unique the description of Shadowheart was, Vanessa is already heading toward her when approached. Somehow the dog is the most unexpected thing to see, but then she wouldn't expect most people to have pets here. Especially a supposed half-elven...warrior? Witch? She knows too little, really.

Vanessa is subtle in her once-over, not lingering on the delicately pointed ears or striking white hair, but she does privately marvel at the sight that Shadowheart makes.

Outwardly, her half-smile is polite, and her tone only mildly curious under the circumstances. ]

I am. And I am to presume you are the one seeking information about a poison?

[ The slight head-tilt further suggests her curiosity, but she can already begin piecing together the possibilities.

Something nags at her, though, a familiarity she can't quite place. ]

[Shadowheart is less subtle in her once-over, her gaze raking over Vanessa's unusual dress – unusual in a way that's different to everyone else's unusual dress – and the way she carries herself, finally finding Vanessa's face, observing the nuances of her expression. She has, if nothing else, a confident air about her. Hopefully she's someone who knows her particular discipline well, and can provide what Shadowheart needs with little fuss.]

Yes. I am.

[She lays a hand on the back of Scratch's head, hoping to reassure him should he sense anything amiss. He tilts his head curiously up at Vanessa, waiting for her permission to sniff her.]

Shall we move away from any prying ears? [This is not a conversation she wants overheard.]

[ Vanessa has never been one for pets, given her rather ~~irresponsible~~ unpredictable lifestyle back home, but she can't help but think of a little wolf when looking to the dog. There's a natural connection there, making her think of Ethan in the strangest of ways. Predator animals tend to be humbled by her, but nothing is a sure bet, so she doesn't reach out despite its friendly disposition.

She admires both for another moment before nodding and turning to lead them away. ]

I have a house near the apartments, not far from here.

[ A humble word for the Victorian mansion that awaits them. ]

[She follows Vanessa, and Scratch dutifully follows her. It's indulgent, she knows, having him here, but... Is it too much to admit she loves him, even to herself? She wants a pet so badly, and he's such a sweet boy.

As they walk, she pulls out a biscuit and breaks a piece off to feed him.

It quickly becomes apparent that the building Vanessa is leading them towards isn't quite a humble 'house.' She doesn't know what a reasonable size for a city home is, but this would feel more at home in the Upper City than the Lower City, she's sure. And it's certainly fancy in a way she's not used to.]

This is where you live? A little much for one person, isn't it?

[ The remark draws a flicker of sadness into her smile as they draw near the entrance, and she nods while minutely shrugging her shoulders. ]

In London, where I once lived, this house belonged to a friend, and he allowed me to stay with him. I'm not certain how Aurora was able to make such an exact replica, but despite the insult of it, I can't bring myself to ignore it. It may be a mockery, yet it is still something of...home.

[ The closest thing she ever had to a home, at least. No one place would ever really be that, though. Not for her. ]

I am not always alone. My companion is often there when not busying himself elsewhere.

[Something of Vanessa's tone catches Shadowheart's ear, something in the word home. It's a sense of almost... a lack of belonging. Something she herself can relate to, if she's got it right. To her, the word 'home' carries no meaning, conjures no images or feelings or memories. The closest thing she's ever had to a home is a little campfire in the wilderness, surrounded by her friends.

She reaches down to scratch Scratch's ears.]

As long as we'll have privacy. I'm looking for someone with a knowledge of dangerous plants, but I'd also hoped for a certain amount of discretion.

Then you have chosen well who to seek out.

[ Not many would be so willing to offer such knowledge, or even more than that, without a thorough interrogation, but so long as the woman doesn't plan to poison the entirety of Etraya en masse, it shouldn't be her business. She can sense no such malice in her, not on such a grand scale, at least not towards all of the other captors.

To herself, or the ailment she suffers, is another matter...

Could it be a malady brought on by magic? That, or even the fact that she isn't entirely human, may prevent initial entry. She pauses outside the door with a glance over one shoulder. ]

I'm uncertain if you will be able to enter with ease... For some, certain ceremony is required.

[ Nothing is certain when other worlds are involved. Curious, Vanessa will open the great steel door (pointedly not matched with the rest of the grand house) and step in before turning to face her. If she can enter on her own, best to first try, rather than attempt blood magic on her without needing to. ]

But there is no harm in first trying without.

[ She'll only meet an invisible wall if it is to affect her. Vanessa can still remember the first time she encountered such a spell, unable to even cross into her old friend's front yard. ]

No harm? [She stops, eyeing the doorway. There are spells she's aware of that ward an area, and none of them are harmless.] You'll forgive me my skepticism if I ask what, exactly, might prevent me from entering?

[Scratch starts towards the threshold, but Shadowheart holds out a hand to warn him back. She wants him walking into a potential trap even less than she wants to do it herself.]

[ The skepticism is a fair trait that Vanessa can admire and understand well enough, and there's a little smile when she notes how the dog is held back. The woman clearly has a soft spot for the animal. ]

A protective measure that I was forced to take some time ago to keep out certain types of witches. Sometimes unfortunately, it can keep at bay anyone who is a bit more than animal or human. Especially those affected by magic. ...It causes no harm.

[ Unless a demon is foolish enough to be inside the barrier when she casts it, but she won't make that mistake again. ]

If you are unable to enter, that can be remedied. Unless you are one who follows the Dark Prince.

[ It's only a half-jest, but she's rather sure there are no elves in her world to serve Lucifer, and if this woman was a demon, Vanessa surely would have been able to tell. ]

Not a Dark Prince, no. [She was, until recently, the follower of a Dark Lady, but that's behind her now.

She is, however, the daughter of a lycanthropic elf, and whether she inherited her father's lycanthropy or no, she certainly inherited his elven blood. And that's before taking the magic into account.]

I hope you'll understand if I take my own protective measures.

[Vanessa must have some power, if she's warded her home against non-humans and mages, and she strikes Shadowheart has the type to be unafraid of using that power. While Shadowheart is loathe to use a great deal of power over what might be nothing, best to take precautions.

Her eyes burn with a flash of golden light as she casts death ward and freedom of movement on herself in quick succession. For a moment, the holy symbol of Selûne – two eyes surrounded by seven stars – burns itself into the air in front of her, and more golden light swirls around her before subsiding.

As soon as the light fades, she reaches out towards the threshold, only to have her hand brought up short by what feels like an invisible wall. Irritated, as though she wasn't warned mere moments ago that this might happen, she shoves on the barrier. Nothing, of course, happens.]

It seems your house has deemed me too elven and too magical to merit entrance.

[ The specificity of her initial response has Vanessa incredibly curious, especially if some godly or demonic connection grants her the sort of power she just displayed, but that's something perhaps to investigate a bit later.

Rarely is she accustomed to magic being so...visible, and the golden hue is lovely, yet she can sense nothing holy in it.

Curious. ]

If nothing else was going to keep you at bay, such spell-craft likely would.

[ But she can understand. It must have been Shadowheart's own protective ward.

Kneeling for but a moment, Vanessa lifts the hem of her skirts just enough to procure a small knife that had been strapped to her ankle. ]

Does blood offend? It is required for entry.

[ Joan hadn't really given her the option, but nothing was going to scare Vanessa off at that point. ]

[When she sees Vanessa pull a knife from beneath her dress, Shadowheart bristles, shifting sideways in front of Scratch.]

Depends on whose blood it is, I suppose. If you intend to spill your own, by all means, go ahead. If you intend to spill mine, well... I'm not in the habit of opening my veins to just anyone.

[ Again with the little smile. ]

I should hope not.

[ She keeps more than one knife with her, just as useful for collecting herbs as they are blood magic, but she would rather not reveal the one concealed closest to her breast. Some things are best kept for worst-case scenarios.

But she likes Shadowheart, at least what she's seen so far, and this invitation can always be reversed should that ever change, so there's no hesitation or even a flinch as she slices into her own thumb with a practiced swipe. The knife is left on the table just inside the door before she steps back out and reaches up with her bloodied thumb. Again, she'll pause, showing far more consideration than was ever given to Vanessa herself. ]

I will need to mark you.

[This isn't like the rituals of the cloister. Blood was spilled there, of course, but even now she must admit there's a certain elegance to Shar; whatever else was expected of her, she wasn't getting ritually smeared with other people's blood.

And yet it's close enough that, for the briefest of moments, her chest tightens and a frowns steals across her face.]

If it's necessary, I suppose.

[She raises an eyebrow, amusement creeping into her voice as she regains her composure.]

You really do know how to roll out the welcome mat, I must say.

Edited 2024-07-15 01:12 (UTC)

[ There's a hum of amused acknowledgement of the strangeness that Shadowheart has been welcomed to, but she couldn't have expected too much normalcy after following a stranger about poisoncraft.

Nothing is elegant in this magic, aside from perhaps the gentleness of Vanessa's touch when reaching to brush a red cross just above the woman's brow. The mark is crude, and the words that join it are coarse, with a voice that drops so low it seems to dig the language out from far below the dirt. The spell crawls up through and out of her as though clawing free of her throat, biting and hissing. Sounds that no human should make.

Insidiously unseen, but but surely felt by anyone with the ability to understand true darkness. ]

Etsoo Sataan sha'am eni pemoder mendafa'. Etsoon moqaf yerkhomi lakwe huni zahomblar.

[Vanessa's actions and words are strange to Shadowheart, but she knows them for what they are: magic, and dark magic at that. She once drew power from darkness, from pain and solitude and loss, and she is still close enough to it to recognize it when it's before her.

When next she speaks, the amusement is gone from her voice.]

Quite the display of power. What god do you serve? [It's not Shar. It may not even be a god she's heard of. But after that, she does need to ask.]

[ The question is enough to give her pause, and a shadow casts across her features when she presses her thumb into her palm and steps back to allow entry. Once, she would have known how to answer. Does she not still keep the crucifix upon her bedroom wall? Are there not moments when she closes her eyes, and still wonders if she will ever again be able to speak her prayers?

Yet, she knows. She knows He will never hear her—she suspects that He never wanted to.

This magic is for those who might instead serve the Devil, but Vanessa would never call him Master. He is too low for her consideration. ]

There is no God for the likes of one such as I.

[ She shouldn't sound so sad in her answer, but there's no hiding the pain that such a claim draws out. The finality of it feels like an old curse finally given voice.

With her other hand, Vanessa pulls free a handkerchief to offer out. ]

Please, be welcome.

[Vanessa's withdrawal tells Shadowheart all she needs to know before the other woman ever opens her mouth. Her face expresses everything Shadowheart felt the moment she cast away Lady Shar's spear; the knowledge, unassailable and inescapable, that she was forsaken. The incalculable loss of the divine presence she had spent her life praying to.

Shadowheart had friends. As utterly alone as she'd felt in that moment, she hadn't been truly alone, or she might not have made it through.

Does Vanessa have anyone?

She's still unsure of Vanessa after that display. Her magic is as dark as anything Shadowheart's ever sensed, but that touch was gentle. Bewilderingly so. She's unused to such gentleness.]

Stay out here, Scratch. I'll be back soon.

[He looks at her and whines before trotting off to occupy himself with searching for a stick to play with.

Shadowheart accepts the offered handkerchief, and, stepping across the threshold rather tentatively, follows Vanessa inside.]

[ She would not have protested the dog's entry, but she can appreciate how much Shadowheart seems to care for the beast. Perhaps Vanessa can find some scraps later on to leave out for him the next time he roams about. He seems gentle for a dog.

Once Shadowheart is inside and the door is shut, Vanessa will lead her past the parlour, and instead to a room off to the opposite side which resembles a small library or study.

Were she to look back before leaving the foyer, the half-elf might take notice of what appears to be a scorpion painted in blood on the inside of the steel door. A mirror they pass is draped with a sheet. Everything else appears as any Victorian mansion might: entirely too ornately decorated. ]

Worry not, such action need not be taken for every entry. You are welcome here any time you wish to visit.

[ A glance as she goes to close the second door. In case Morpheus should be about, this can provide a modicum of privacy. ]

Assuming there will be another visit.

[ Which is to say: Just what does she hope to gain poison for? Will she survive the day? ]

[Shadowheart does indeed look around, taking note of the mirror – magic? – and the scorpion – drawn in blood, no less – and searching her memory for any gods that use a scorpion as their symbol. None come to mind.

The place is not only ornately decorated, it's also crowded in a way she isn't used to. The detailing in the wood, the things set everywhere... perhaps this is how the homes in the Upper City are appointed. Has she ever been inside such a home? There's some memory, oh-so-faint, gone before she can grasp it.

She also takes the opportunity to wipe the blood from her brow, carefully ensuring that she's got every drop of it.]

I'd hate to drain you of your magic simply for the sake of a house call.

[If she'll be back. One strong dose of poison is all she needs.

Once they're alone and the door is closed, Shadowheart turns, taking in this room as she did the foyer before directing her attention fully to Vanessa.

She speaks bluntly.] I have no plans to go on a murder spree, if you're concerned about that. The poison is for myself. A last resort. My condition is under control, for now, but should it progress, I'd prefer a quick, and ideally painless, exit. And that's to say nothing of the danger I'd pose to everyone in this place should it run its full course.

[ Now that magical permission has been granted, Shadowheart can enter the premises whenever she wants, provided the front door is unlocked. Though, from how she then proceeds to describe her situation, it isn't so far off to again wonder if it will ever come to pass.

Her words strike an all-too-familiar chord, and she leans against the nearby table while gesturing for Shadowheart to sit in the chair if she so wishes. The woman is clearly suffering from something dire, and perhaps that is why Vanessa felt like she recognized something strange on meeting her. Perhaps she carries demons that can manifest as an illness, just as Vanessa once suffered for so many years.

Death had been a fantasy at the worst of times, and at those times she had been the most dangerous.

With arms folded, there's quiet contemplation for a stretch before she responds. ]

A possession? A demon?

[For the moment, she prefers to stand, not comfortable enough to sit in a strange place with a person she doesn't know well.

The silence drags on, seeming to last for eons – long enough for Shadowheart to begin to grow nervous – before Vanessa finally responds.]

A parasite.

[Does Vanessa know of illithids? And if she does, would she attempt to kill Shadowheart here and now rather than trust that ceremorphosis is not inevitable?]

There are creatures in my world that reproduce by inserting parasites into others' heads, which eventually transform their host into one of their own kind. The parasite in my head is unique. Dormant. But should it ever wake, I would suffer a long and agonizing death and the rest of you would be trapped here with one of the most dangerous creatures in existence.

[She scowls, her tone becoming increasingly insistent.]

It's best for everyone if I have a way to prevent that.

[ ....one of the most dangerous creatures in existence.

Vanessa's eyes, icy and penetrating, flicker with a hint of recognition as she listens to Shadowheart's tale. Her posture remains poised, but there's a subtle tension in her shoulders, as if bracing against an invisible weight. ]

I see. Such burdens are...familiar to me.

[ Her voice is low, a husky rasp that seems to carry echoes of darker times. ]

While I cannot claim knowledge of these specific creatures, I am intimately acquainted with the fear of losing oneself to something...other.

[ Vanessa is hardly going to be the first to condemn the woman. At the same time, it leaves her keenly aware of the danger presented, and that inaction could lead to disaster.

There is a pause, her gaze drifting momentarily to some unseen point before snapping back to Shadowheart. ]

May I ask, what other avenues have you yet explored?

[Losing oneself. Even without impending ceremorphosis, Shadowheart understands that fear. She was so very lost for years; she doesn't even know how many. How much more lost would she be now if she'd walked into the Shadowfell alone? If doubts hadn't been planted in her head by her friends sufficient to make her cast away Shar's spear?

She and Vanessa have a few things in common, it seems.

Her focus now, though, is getting what she came here for.]

This is beyond any healer in my world, including myself. No magic that I know of can extract it. We found one of the creatures that had turned on its kind and was willing to help us, but it said that if it were to attempt to extract the parasite, the host would die in the process. The only potential solution left is to destroy the thing that controls the parasites, which, needless to say, I can't accomplish here.

[It's more than she might otherwise share, but Vanessa has been kind to her thus far. And understanding.]

If no one here can help me and I'm unable to return home, my only options are to hope it remains in stasis or die in agony if it does not.

un: shadowheart | text

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cw: we got blood magic here fellas

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cw: discussion of suicide

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cw: parasites

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