From the Shadows in the Night [M]

[Draconian]

(TW: Blood, rape, murder. Generally Bad Things. Avert your eyes, ye innocent ones!)

It was always a risk, going out on her own.

Carnwennan was hungry and her part of the deal was to feed him.

So, Callista had the dagger ready, looking down at the eye on the hilt before it closed and shifted into a mouth, giving it's lips a lick at the idea of being fed. It'd been a few weeks, she was supposed to feed him days ago but there had been work to do. So now, now she was out and she sighed at the dead rat in her hands.

"C'mon, I don't have time to give you a whole somebody," Callista hissed at the dagger who simply made a growling noise, refusing the rat.

"I don't want a rat. I need energy from things that are not rats."

"Fine!" Another hiss and she prowled around. The mask she'd pulled down to talk to the dagger was pulled up again and she pulled the hood up as well. Tonight she was dressed in form fitting clothing, leaving little to the imagination. Also leaving little cloth to make noises or get hooked on things. For the most part Callista prowled the streets quietly, keeping her eyes open and simply listening.

The sound of glass breaking and a scuffle broke her silence and she looked towards a tavern, a door closing roughly, leaving the street in darkness. Callista took careful steps toward the noises, a woman's soft pained cries, the sharp sound of flesh against flesh. The cry of curses to the stars. The sound of someone being hit. Finally she rounded the building and gave a bored look to the scene in front of her before she looked down at the dagger and she knew the look in that eye.

Good.

That rat wouldn't do, but this rat would.

Silently she stepped behind the man and the dagger was shoved into his back. It took a moment too long for the man to notice the sharp pain in his ribcage but by then the crying woman was scrambling away and fixing her skirts and generally just getting away. Callista didn't bother to notice, she was't here to save some poor woman, finally she'd caught her dagger a meal.  The man wasn't dead yet though and he whipped around violently, his elbow connecting with her head, her hood falling off before she sunk down the wall, grinning up at him through the mask.

A slash at his leg with the dagger and another smooth plunge to his chest with hit and he crumbled on top of her, the blood seeping down the dagger and onto her chest. It was warm and sticky and she sighed, more chores to do before she'd go back to the shop. It was a rare night where she didn't have to wash blood out of her clothing and it seemed tonight wasn't one of those rare nights.

The noises the dagger made while it licked the blood from it's lips disgusted her, but this was part of their deal and she quite enjoyed being able to blend into the night. So, Callista waited for the dagger to eat his fill and it wasn't until the body was a skeletal, dried out husk that she shoved it aside and sat up, cross legged and glared down at the dagger.  The eye looked at her and she frowned at it, "There. Was that good?"

"Delicious, you have a little on your... Bring me up and I'll get it."

Callista brought the side of the dagger to her face and she felt a tongue brush against the side of her mouth, blood from being hit on the head having split her lip.

"So tasty. You know, you've done far more worse things than he ever did."

Frowning slightly, she moved to get up, facing away from the alley before she poked the dagger in the eye, only for it to quickly turn into a mouth and bite her. "Fine. Fuck you too." The dagger went silent and she slowly turned around to stare at a shadow, the moonlight behind them obscuring their features. Oh dear.

"Uh... Hi. Nice night for a walk, isn't it? Fellow... Night Walker."

Yeah. That'd fool them. Now her dagger was grumpy and she knew he wouldn't help her out of this.

[Pseudonym]

Edgar's mind was wandering as he roamed these familiar dark streets. Down most streets there was nothing but the soft glow of lamplight creeping out from around doorways and windows, and if he caught them at just the right moment he could watch those lamp flames snuffed out as the patrons moved to sleep. Ah, sleep. Edgar's final frontier and one he would never step foot in. It was for this very reason that Edgar's role as a night watchman was so perfect for him. With his hands in his pockets, he moved on in the direction of the local tavern in the area, the smell of the Ora river far off.

Edgar wasn't sure if the other night watchmen in the town preferred to carry their own lamps or not. He had been offered one, but he felt the distinct swing of that handheld lamp wouldn't be very good for sneaking up on any ne'er-do-wells or brigands he might have the chance to sneak up on, and really, wasn't that his job? Keep peace in the streets and all that? So, Edgar kept his hands in his pockets, strolled quietly, and listened for anything ill-sounding. It was this that led him to the alley around the tavern.

The sounds of scuffle, flesh and cloth tearing, brought him to alert. As he moved closer, hands coming of his pockets to sway at his sides in fists, he saw a startled, flustered and young girl streak past him, feet slapping the ground in a rush to get away.

Well. That didn't bode well.

Softly, Edgar sidled up to the edge of building, just in time to see a dark figure illuminated by the moonlight shove a corpse off of itself and sit up. A corpse. Sure, Edgar had been fully prepared to deal with a bit of thievery or perhaps rescue a drunken damsel in distress, but outright murder? Drawn in, he couldn't peel his eyes from the eerily lit scene, and pulled his wide-brimmed hat down over his eyes in a subconscious attempt to conceal himself.

As he peered around at the person he could hear soft voices, speaking quietly to one another. Was the person talking the corpse? Were they murderous and crazy? If that were the case, Edgar figured it was no good idea for them to be wandering the streets any longer. For once, perhaps he could put his useless skills to work. If he could just get a hand on this person's shoulder before they turned around – just a touch – he could knock them out long enough to have them apprehended.

He started to reach out for the murderer as he turned the corner, trying not to breathe, to be as quiet as possible, but when Edgar saw a tongue slither out from the murderer's knife and lick tenderly at their lips, he stopped dead.

Starkly lit by the moon, Edgar got a full view of this murderer as she cursed into the night air and turned to face him, but her features were still obscured by the dark hood she wore. The last thing he wanted right now was to freak her out and have her attack him.

Stay calm, Edgar. He knew the moonlight behind him would keep him somewhat shrouded, and what a blessing. He knew his face was nowhere near the calm he was trying to portray.

"I... Good-nice, yes. Miss. Are you alright?"

Edgar's hand clenched slightly.

"Did you need any help with your corp-"

Uh oh. As the words slipped past his dry lips, Edgar knew it was too late to pull them back in. He only had one chance at this now. In a panic he rushed her, reaching out desperately. All he had to do was get one hand on her.

[Draconian]

Nope.

Didn't fool them.

Callista looked down at the dagger, giving him a little shake. Of course he was awake, Carnwennan was just pouting. "Why yes, Thank you, I'm fine..." She trailed off, turning to look at him slightly, not removing the mask or the hood.  A moments pause and she stood up just in time for him to ask about her corpse. Then he lunched. Instinct and reflex had her instantly jerk back, though all of her training didn't prepare her to step on a fresh corpse and before she realized it her foot slipped out from under her and she landed on her ass with a grunt.

The dagger was held out at the man and she leaned back.

"I don't need any help with the corpse," She said, shuffling backwards still, slowly standing up, never moving the dagger. Carnwennan peeked his eye at him, winked, licked his lips and then returned to his dormant state, looking like a fancy old dagger. Callista turned for a moment, ready to run away down the alley and of course, all she say besides trash and rats was a wall. When wasn't it a dead end. Callista turned to spit on the corpse of the man she'd just fed to her dagger, "He can rot here and be returned to the rats, it does his justice."

Again her attention was on the man and she was hesitant, "I only did what needed to be done, it's not murder. He deserved it."  Still, she stayed as far away from this nosy man as she could, arms out, dagger out and backing away still. Maybe... A quick glance at the wall. If she managed to she could slip past him. "You don't deserve it." She started giving the dagger a brief glance, "Don't make me murder you."

[Pseudonym]

Well, this one was definitely quick on her feet. Edgar stumbled forward as she stumbled back and over the corpse behind her.

Damn, he'd been so close.

Now, though she was the one at a disadvantage, downed and shuffling back away from him. Away from him and only toward a wall of unmoveable brick. There was no way she was getting away through that, and Edgar calmed a bit. That didn't do away with the fact that she still held that dagger, however. It was a strange piece, he could tell. Edgar knew that flick of tongue from the dagger to her lips hadn't just been a figment of his imagination.

As she stared up at Edgar she seemed... Scared, maybe?

"Look, he might've been a bad guy, sure..." he sighed, holding his hands up in front of him as what he hoped was a placating gesture.
You don't deserve it.

What? Oh, great, was he next on the list now?

"Hey! Hey, now, I'm not making you do anything. What? Did that guy do something to you?" He pointed at the desicated corpse behind them. 

Okay, just don't' make her upset, he thought. It might be too late for that from the darting glances she was casting between him and the wall. She was trapped and feeling it, that much was obvious. Edgar gave an imperceptible grunt under his breath. Priority number one: He did not want to die tonight, or any night in the near future for that matter.

"Come on, we don't have to do this... This way," he reached out a hand to her. "Can I at least help you up?"

[Draconian]

Callista frowned, looking at him. Looking at the dagger. Why wasn't Carn saying anything? Panic was setting in, this man wasn't on any of the lists, he wasn't doing anything bad, Carn wasn't hungry anymore. A small tug at her belly told her that running this nosy stranger through would be regretful, so instead she just stared. Carn stayed silent in her hand. "Carnwennan," Callista said shaking the dagger, giving it a frantic look, "Carn, please!" Still, nothing.

Crushed. Another look at the stranger, at his out stretched hand. Delicately, slowly she reached her free hand to him, intending to grab him and pull him down on top of her. It wasn't her doing the murdering if he just fell on her dagger and bled out, right?

That would just be an unfortunate, unavoidable accident.

Finally, her fingers touched his and instead of pulling him forward Callista's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she went limp, instantly going into a deep sleep. Into the alley. Her legs pressing against the corpse of Carns meal. "Oh, hohoho" A masculine voice chuckled, "That's a fancy trick, won't work for long though. You better run while she's asleep, remember what she said? Don't make her murder you. I seem to recall dying as not feeling all that pleasant." There was a pause, the dagger resting on her chest, placed there when she'd fallen asleep. The eye opened and looked up at the man, "Decidedly not a fun thing to do, take it from me.."

[Pseudonym]

What exactly was this dagger to this woman?

Edgar stood, hand outstretched as she fretted over it, clutching it, shaking it at him. No, not at him, just... Like she was trying to get its attention. Then, the broken look on her face when it didn't answer her pleas. What was this? If Edgar weren't standing there with a dagger in his face, this situation might have been more interesting. The dynamic between her and that creepy dagger ran deeper than it appeared. Well, at least by the panic in her voice as she called out to... Carnwennan.

It even had a name. Was this some sinister thing or was this murderess just crazy, like Edgar had thought when he first stumbled upon them. Whatever was going on, this had become more than a routine checkup on the shadows of his little town's streets. All of a sudden he'd been dropped into some crazy's fever dream.

At last she gave in to his offer, her fingers brushed his and he immediately felt the release, the weariness of his fingertips passing into hers as she fell limp in the bright of the moonlit street. With as sigh of relief he reached down to scoop up the dagger, but stopped short at the fine, liquid voice that oozed from its steely form.

Edgar's face went pale and he stared into the eye on the dagger, mouth slightly agape. Maybe she wasn't so crazy. Or, maybe he was.

"No..." he breathed. "I can't imagine it would be." He swallowed stiffly. Tentatively, but quickly, Edgar knocked at the dagger's hilt to send it off the girl's chest to lay on the street next to the corpse's visage, instantly recoiling from it out of fear of what its reaction might be. Whatever it was, it was too close to living bodies for his taste, and looked much more at home next to the dead.

"What are you?"

[Draconian]

[Never throught I'd RP a talking dagger. Huh.]

The dagger clanged onto the ground, but the eye just watched the man, slowly the eye closed and became a fanged mouth, pulled into a wide grin. "What am I? Well, I'm a dagger." The tone Carn was using implied that the person he was talking to was quite slow. There was a pause and it licked it's lips. Or the teeth that were provided as lips.  "Carn and Callista, I hail from Fell, she hails from..." There was a pause and Callista's hand went out, snatching the dagger back up.

Carn laughed while she gave a lurch up, her head still down. Still, she was sleeping. "Our bond runs deep, Stranger, you touch me again and you'll meet the biting bit of my blade." The dagger gave a pleased hum, "I've always loved alliteration." There were a few whimpers from the girl - dreaming perhaps - but Carn simply stared. "Was it magic that put her to sleep? Normally she never sleeps deep enough for me to take control... Care to teach me?"

[Pseudonym]

[Not just any dagger. A super evil dagger. Muaha.]

Edgar watched as the dagger clattered away from him and the form of the eye morphed, receding into the shape of a mouth before it bloomed into a wide grin. Nothing about it struck Edgar as friendly

Oh, great. The dagger thing was evil and sarcastic.

"It doesn't seem like much of a bond to me, Carn." Edgar brought himself to a full stand and stepped just out of arm's reach of Callista, not lifting the darkened glare he had aimed at the dagger.  It stuck out stiffly from the end of Callista's hand, and her limbs moved in a wooden and unnatural manner as she  was brought upright by the dagger's control.

"Of a sort. She'll sleep well, that's for sure. Doesn't seem like much of a skill I'd want to bestow on a murderer, though." He furrowed his brow at the dagger.

It had become clear to him that whatever power this dagger had, it was in full control of the young girl who was passed out in front of him. He could only guess she was some sort of slave to this thing, the victim of a sordid mishap taken on in the darkness. Unfortunately now that meant he felt a little obligated to try and get her out this contract, or at least far enough away from here to get a straight story out of her.

Behind him, Edgar could hear the muffled sounds of tavern patrons milling about inside, but beyond that a lone set of steps traipsing down the street he'd been fortunate enough to roam down. If he were lucky, it might be the watchman that was assigned behind him in the circuit. If not... He'd have to get himself and this girl out of this situation fast.

[Draconian]

Carn gave a loud sigh. This man just would not get the picture and if he had more eyes to roll, they would be doing such. Unfortunately he was a mouth-eye on a dagger and all he had to control was the puppy body of a strange little girl. Well, woman, technically.

"It's a carnal bond." He chuckled to himself, a deep chuckle that would probably make peoples chests shake if he'd been a person instead of a small dagger. "Besides, it's not any of your business anyway what we do together." Callista's free hand moved away and she gave a sleepy moan, head lolling to the side and while she was clearly asleep, she was moving.

The dagger gave a lick of his lip and he smiled widely, Callista moving to hold Carn side ways so he could get a good look at this stranger that put people to sleep. "You and I could be a good team. I can do things you only imagine." Almost immediately Callista was shrouded in shadow. The whole alley became dark, light wasn't sucked away, it was there... It just didn't penetrate it. Like a smog the blackness was and when it went down, Callista was behind Edgar and the biting bit of Carn's blade was pressed against his side.

"You're in over your head, Human, you'd best go away before I don't have to puppet the girl. She'll do everything I say because I am her only trusted friend." It was a warning and there was a final air about it. The soft amused chuckle that followed didn't help the creep factor.

[Pseudonym]

  Unfortunately for Edgar, he had no idea how human or inhuman this dagger was? It was... What? Was it flesh? Was there some semblance of human hidden away within its hilt that allowed it to look at him through that unyielding eyes, or chuckled at him through parted lips? He had no way of knowing its origins, no way of knowing if this was the way it had always been or if it had become this, had desired the power and been willing to sacrifice form for fear. These were the thoughts that sent a shudder down Edgar, just barely perceptible in the fingertips that shook for only a moment.

  It's a carnal bond, the dagger laughed.

  Ah, yes. This thing's sarcasm knew no bounds. It was quite apparent that Carn thought it had the upper hand, even with Callista fast asleep. Edgar wondered why the dagger even needed the girl to be conscious – ever – if it could just puppeteer her this way.

   Edgar's face hardened at the prospect of enlisting himself with this.. thing. Oh yes, he'd definitely enlisted himself in what he thought would be the quiet, uneventful life of a night watchman just so he could get caught up in some demonic force's murderous plot. So far, this was the furthest thing from uneventful he had ever done, and that was what he thought before Carn decided to put his power on display. With tightened lips and tightened hands, Edgar watched the alley darken. Darken? The moonlight was still there, but Callista and Carn were completely obscured.

  The last thing he wanted to do was lose track of them.

  Just as Edgar moved to turn around, maybe even to run or shout out for assistance he felt the blade press against his side, and heard Carn's masculine voice at his elbow. Edgar's eyes stretched to be able to see them behind him, but it was futile. He could feel her, sleepy but taut, at the mercy of Carn's will. Through the sounds of the tavern Edgar could hear the footsteps receding away from them, from their backward backalley tryst.

  Her only trusted friend? How was this thing a friend?

  Edgar swallowed stiffly. The only thought running through is confused mind now was to stay alive.

  "You think we could be a team? What good is a shadowy shroud to me? I can already put people to sleep, I don't need the darkness for that. You'll have to be a little more impressive if you want to sway me." Really, he had no idea what he was doing.

[Draconian]

More impressive?

Carn scoffed at the idea. What could be more impressive than him? Sure he had to be carted around because of an obvious lack of legs but... The impressiveness just seeped out of his metal-daggery pores. "It's not about what I can do for you, my boy," The dagger was pushed into the mans side a little harder, not enough to cut flesh - not yet - but enough to feel the bite of the blade.

"It's about what I can make you do for me, see? C'mon. Let's go. This girl is just dragging me down anyway." There was a note of pleading in the dagger's voice. Hoping the man would fall for it.

[Pseudonym]

  A quick intake of breath followed Carn's increased pressure at Edgar's side. He could feel his body tighten, and his pulse quickened. Edgar reminded himself to breath. Panic wouldn't serve him any good in this situation. This dagger's intentions were panes of glass to Edgar now, clear and revealing. It wanted more power. It wanted his power. At the moment, he wasn't in much of a place to argue.

  He had once last-ditch attempt to get out this without becoming a slave to the sordid thing threatening to pierce his ribs. Edgar could only hope to anything listening that it was merely Carn's attention and focus he needed to worry about, and not Callista's. Fast asleep and languidly puppeted along by the dagger, it was hard to predict her movements.

"Huh. Nice friend you are," he whispered.

  As quickly as his adrenaline-ridden muscles could move Edgar closed his eyes and reached around with the hand opposite the dagger to grab it by the blade. It sliced into his fingers and Edgar's blood, shining in the moonlight, dripped down toward the hilt. He gritted his teeth against the pain and growled under his breath.

  Please, please, he thought, Let it go to sleep.

[Draconian]

The dagger hadn't anticipated being grabbed, even less that he'd be drowsy. Resisting, the dagger had Callista push him deeper, perhaps enough to pierce the clothing but moments passed and the sound of a collapsing body would be heard for Edgar.

A resonating snore echoed through the alley. It wasn't Callista, she was fast asleep and perhaps a little more bruised and battered than before. It was distinctly male and coming from her hand.

The dagger was snoring.

Which left a very asleep Callista and her very asleep dagger at Edgar's feet.

[Pseudonym]

  Edgar felt the tip of the blade graze his skin before the sound of Callista collapsing behind him met his ears, and he turned to take in the scene at his feet.

  Internally, Edgar was throwing his arms up and wailing a resounding Whoo hoo! in victory.

  Externally, he was just staring down at he poor girl's body splayed out in the street and that horrible dagger which had managed to remain grasped in her hand. ... Was it snoring? The strangeness of this night wasn't going to be coming to an end anytime soon, he thought.

  What was he going to do with them now, though? Edgar looked up at the empty street. The night had grown deep and quiet during their altercation, but there was still a sliver of light beaming out onto the street's stones from beneath the tavern door. He took a deep breath and crouched down in front of the girl. The sleeping Callista was a portrait of innocence grasping a corrupted thorn. Carefully, Edgar pried the inhuman tool from her fingers and shoved it unceremoniously into the pocket of his coat before he scooped Callista up and carried her into the warmth of the tavern.

  The man at the counter gave Edgar one look and handed him a key for Room 3, which he awkwardly scrabbled at with the hand under the small of the girl's back before grasping them in his fingers. He carried her up the stairs, managed to maneuver the two of them through the creaky door and was greeted with a tiny room. It had just one small of everything. One small bed, one small window, one small wooden chair and one small basin for water.

  The bed creaked as he laid Callista out on it and poured some water to splash on his face. The dagger seemed heavy in his pocket now, and its quiet snoring could still be heard. He ripped a patch of cloth from the end of the bed's ratty blanket. The severity of the situation sank into Edgar with every wrap of the cloth around Carn's sharp form. He was a part of this thing now, and he had no idea how Callista was going to react once she woke up and found Carn missing.

  Wrapping job done, Edgar dragged the wooden chair over to the entrance, leaned i up against the closed door and planted himself on top of it. He shoved the dagger behind him, in between the fabric of his coat and his back, and pulled the brim of his hat down. He drifted a bit, but never quite fell asleep, and he kept his eyes on the murderess sleeping softly in front of him.

[Draconian]

Callista hated to sleep.

The dreams were always bad ones.

Or good ones that she woke up and was disappointed that they were simply that. Dreams. Sometimes, she'd avoid sleeping when she could to avoid the dreams. Then, they would come and she'd snap awake and push down the sick feeling. Sometimes she couldn't and it would greet her in the form of whatever she ate last.

Today was not such a day, thankfully. On high alert, Callista's first thing she did when she woke up was pretend to sleep and listen. The soft snoring told her whomever had her was sleeping and before long she sat up, looking around the room quickly for an exit.

Besides the window - which was barred shut - there was one exit and that man from the alley was -- "Where's Carn?" She asked herself out loud, hand flying to her mouth before she stood up and pat at her pockets, "Where's Carn?!" Her hands were out and she had them grabbing the strange mans shit collar before she could help herself.

[Pseudonym]

  Edgar only dozed in the chair, looking up every so often to the see the window lightening gradually as the sun rose. Behind him, he could hear the soft sounds o Carn snoring. If he wanted to get any rest, or any thinking done, he'd have to find somewhere to put this thing where he didn't have to listen to it. Who'd have thought a dagger could snore.

  From beneath the brim of his hat, Edgar saw Callista rise from the bed, a panicked tempest that whirled to face him with one question on he lips, Where's Carn? Before he could even form a reply she was on him, fingers clutched around his shirt collar and he was staring into her eyes.

  Edgar grabbed Callista by her upper arms and held her there forcefully, never loosening his grip, only attempting to get her to let go of him and cease the alarmed panicking she was in. 

"Ugh! Calm down, will ya!" he hissed sharply at her, not wanting to awaken any of their neighbouring tavern patrons. He didn't want to put Callista back to sleep, he couldn't keep watch over her forever and carrying a limp body through the streets back to his office didn't really appeal to him right now. And, to be honest, Edgar's curiosity was strong.

  As quickly as he could managed he let go of her with one hand and reached up to her cheek, brushing the back of his fingers along her skin in a swift motion. It would make her a bit drowsy. Hopefully, drowsy enough to clam her down.

"Why the hell would you want to find that thing, anyway?" he asked. Edgar turned his face to the side and whispered, "Maybe you're just as batshit crazy at it is."

  He waited to feel her resistance fade.

"Are you gonna be calm now? Do I have to keep fighting you off?"

[Draconian]

Sleepy.

So sleepy.

Callista found herself letting go of his shirt and sinking down on the ground to her knees, head lowered. "He's..." A quiet sigh, her hands moved to her face and she still looked around the room, worried. Where was Carn? What was she going to do if she couldn't find him?

"He needs me," Concern was written on her face and she held out her hands again as if to grab him. Too sluggish though and her hands fell to her sides. "I'm the only person he has," Her voice was small and she ducked her head down, her hair a curtain around her face.

"Please..." She implored, looking up again, "Where is Carn?"

[Pseudonym]

  Edgar sighed as Callista sank to the floor in front of him and ran his hands over his eyes, still half asleep. The cut in his palm where the dagger had drawn blood still bit, and that bite kept him focused.

"He doesn't need you, he's using you," Edgar gave Callista a hard look, knowing it wouldn't be very convincing in the sleepy state he'd induced. "Can't see that, can you?"

  The dagger was a lump in his back, the soft vibrations of its snoring felt like they were drilling right into his spine. The situation shook him up in more ways than one. He would have to turn this girl in. As much as everything tonight had taken a strange turn, even for Edgar, he couldn't ignore the fact that he had witnessed her murder a man.

  It was light out now, someone would find the body soon. They body that was sitting not too far from the entrance of the tavern he and his ward had just spent the night in.

"He's fine, if a dagger can be fine." Edgar grabbed Callista's shoulder and turned her to face him. "Listen to me, okay? I saw you murder a man. I'm going to have to turn you in. Do you understand that? Do you know what that means for you?"

  Just as Edgar leaned forward more to make sure his words were getting into her ears and sticking, he heard the dull thud of Carn's cloth-wrapped shape hitting the ground. His head snapped around to see it on the floor beside him and Edgar reached for it, hoping Callista hadn't noticed it before he had. That sleep was going to wear off soon.