Aren't I FANTASTIC?! (Right over here Rhi!)

[Anonymous]

Well the life of Zantaric was probably a very nice one. A society for outcasts and cuthroats he had heard, some place for misfits to go without being disturbed. A haven for those who wouldn't make it into heaven so to speak. Oh that was a good. He'd remember that one for later! It was perfect for the little village that had been tucked away from prying eyes. Still, he wished he had picked a better time to come to Zantaric. Probably would have been a good idea to come during the day and when the weather wasn't...odd.

How was the weather odd? Well, HE had created it for one thing. Of course, that meant that it was raining, but there were only three clouds in the sky. One was a dark magenta that seemed to swirl and rotate slowly. Another was a large cube that was an olive colour of some sort. The last one was vermillion and seemed like a hexagon of some sort. Each cloud was releasing a strange bunch of colourful rain that when they struck an object didn't splatter, just simply turned into a small puff of smoke. It was probably the oddest weather that Zantaric would ever see.

The being who had created the weather was strolling through the streets of town like nothing was the matter. That of course was true. For him, this weather was pretty normal for him. This tall six foot seven figure strode slowly over the terrain of the streets. He was a funny creature to say the least, with his bronzed smooth looking skin, harlequin green hair that was silky smooth and fell down over his face in waves. There were a few stray locks that were down over his...eyes?

He didn't have normal eyes like most people. Instead the strange man had weird sockets for eyes. They were liquid pools of coloured light, one comprised of thousands of colours swirling and changing endlessly around. He seemed to be pretty calm though as his head swished around, looking toward people who were in the street. Everyone seemed to be watching the sky with interest.

One hand went upwards to his hair, to run a hand through it. All the rain was giving off a nice little sweet smell. Those little puffs of rain were quite lovely! He looked to his hands, the well manicured digits of them in particular. He had chosen a violet nail polish today, one that really contrasted with his hair. Still, violet on green did look rather nice. He would have to try that out one day for his clothes, they might look nice actually.

He was wearing what he liked to call a frumpy shirt. The shirt sleeves were puffy in a way, looking a little strange as they went down only to his elbows. The ends of the sleeves seemed to be tightened around the skin with a rope that had been sewn into the end of the shirt. The sleeves were a deep lavender, while the actual shirt itself was a lighter crimson colour of sorts. The shirt was buttoned up, except for the three buttons at the neck, which were undone and the shirt pulled slightly apart. He wore a simple pair of leggings that were baggy for the most part. These were a dull and dark yellow of sorts, the pants were covering up his simple reed sandals that were upon his well kept looking feet. No dust or dirt seemed to mar them for some very strange reason.

Slowly he tilted his head up to look at the sky with a few blinks of his eyes. Let's see now...That rain probably was going to bring some very wanted attention, but still...he didn't want to be noticed that much. Raising one hand he snapped his fingers lazily at the sky, the clouds slowly disappearing completely from the sky. He was grinning, flashing his pearly whites once before he continued walking. Now was the time for to get something to drink.

His hands dipped into his pockets, pulling out suddenly four small black and white spheres. Then, he began to juggle them. They moved from hand to hand, left and right, three in the air moving in an arc while one was sent just straight across. He was fast with his hands it appeared, after a lot of practise and a lot of luck for that matter. Finally he reached a place that just screamed tavern. A foot came upward with his toes locked in place to pull the door open and he walked straight inside to look around at everyone. People were looking at him a little strange, some glaring, and some with curiosity.

"Greetings tavern dwellers! ShalakaZAM!" All four balls were thrown to the ground, and large puffs of bitter smelling smoke rose upwards and covered in front of him. People started to look around for the strange man, but when the smoke finally cleared, they found that he was still standing where he had been, a rather large goofy grin on his face.

"Gotcha." Following that there was some mumbling and grunting as people went back to their previous tasks. He frowned slightly but shrugged as he sidled over the bar and straddled a bar stool. It was strange to see the large six foot seven man bouncing up and down slightly as he drummed his hands rapidly on the table. Finally the bartender came to him looking rather annoyed.

"Whaddya want?" The bartender asked as he slammed a glass near the strange man's fingers. His hands came back to stare at the glass for a moment then to look at the bartender and grin.

"Greetings angry man behind counter! I demand a drink that feels like burning and tastes like delicious. I will give gold!" He held a hand up with the fingers splayed out. Then with a quick flick of his wrist he was holding a golden coin in his hand, grinning.

"Whiskey it is." The bartender brought up a strange bright amber drink and poured it out into the large glass. He put the coin down to pick up the drink and sniff it. He also spun in his chair to look around the room at all the people there. The tavern was made of a dark wood of some sort, very hard to say what kind in this atmosphere. There was smoke that hung in the air, slightly acrid, he wasn't a big fan of it either. He could see some people in the corners trading off gold and satchels, it was hard to tell what they were trading though. He could see some people at tables not talking, just slamming back drinks or passed out in their chairs. He was looking, searching, waiting to see the perfect person. Oh taverns were always good for meeting people! His hand was back with a gold coin, flipping it between his knuckles. Over over over, tumbling back and forth his knuckles.

This was an absent move, just like his tapping foot at this point. He was grinning as well, his eyes wide, or they might have been wide, it was hard to say as he watched people. He must have looked very odd though, this tall, multicoloured eyesocketed man just watching people with this strange grin on his face. However, it would get him attention, and that's all he wanted at this point. Attention! He wanted people to watch him, he wanted them to look at him, and he wanted them to be amazed by him. Though, at this point the stranger was planning on juggling some fireballs at this point. People would want to be very careful around him.

"What looks like a rock, acts like a rock, smells and tastes like a rock, but isn't a rock?" He hadn't taken a drink from his glass yet, but he almost seemed drunk as he was now staring at his glass.

"A stone of course. Duh! Stupid glass. Why would you guess that. I don't like you." He reached around and put the glass on the bar counter, as if he was shunning it. Still, he was spinning that coin around his fingers like he wasn't bothered by it.

Yeah, he was really a strange one.

[Rhindeer]

Well...this was an interesting day. An ageless creature, Sirka had seen a lot of strange things in her long life, but she didn't think she'd ever seen rain that did this or clouds that looked like that. Usually the rain was just all...rainy and and smelled like rain. Instead of being all poofy and smokey and smelling, well, good in a non-rainy sort of way. That was really weird, but she supposed it was a good thing, too! After all, it was a lot better than getting all soaked. That would have been a pain. She was wearing at least ten pounds of clothes and if it get all drenched, it would have just been sad. And then she would have gotten all muddy and dirty.

Ew.

Walking casually through the village, anyone that saw Sirka would probably assume she was nuts. She certainly didn't seem like she belonged in a place like this and, if anything, she probably looked the picture of the perfect victim. She was a short slip of a young woman, only two inches above five feet, with short cotton candy pink hair that reached a little past her eyes at its longest, which happened to be her bangs. In the back and on the underside of her hair, however, the bright pink hair went from pink to black. Her eyes were also pink, a pale rosy color like her cheeks, and her ears were pointed, giving away her non-human heritage.

Er, well, then again the wings probably made it more obvious, since they were pretty big and right there on her back. They were also a blatant hint at that aspect of her that few people saw--the things were completely shredded. They were a mess. What once must have been ornate, pink butterfly wings were now a mess of tears and tatters, the irredescent membrane hanging off the supporting frame here and there, which was just as broken and dented as the rest. One ear, her left ear, also had a deep nick in it, a large piece of cartiledge removed completely.

Of course, to most people, it just made her look like she had some sort of tragic past, which was fine by her--even if it only added to the whole "easy target!" look she had going on here, and she looked even more lost and vulnerable with the poofy black dress she was wearing. It covered her body thoroughly with a high neckline and long sleeves, and white stockings covered her legs while black boots took care of her feet. The only bare patches of skin aside from her face and hands was her back, which had to be bare since no other style of clothes would work for her. They certainly weren't travelling clothes, but she hated those icky things.

Of course, that was all on the surface. What no one really saw, however, was the horror that was covered by all that lace and cloth. And that was also fine by her! Because she'd had some nasty experiences in the past with people pulling on her stitches...very troublesome. Good thing she carried a little sewing kit on her at all times. Which was actually why she had decided to stop in this village on her way to La'marri. She needed more thread because she had run out, and her right arm was starting to give her problems again. The thing was always falling off, and even right now it was only being held together by a few stitches. Which was why she walked with her arms crossed in front of her, so the limb wouldn't swing too much.

The "rain" stopped suddenly, the clouds vanishing just like that, and Sirka tilted her head and stared up at the sky--which was now clear. That was probably the weirdest weather she'd ever seen...but hey, now she smelled good at least, from the weird smokey rain! Maybe some mage was practicing some sort of magic. Or maybe the weather was just funky here naturally. The northern lights were pretty bizarre after all, and they were natural. So why not?

Hmm, but back to the main issue...what kind of place would carry thread? She chewed on her lip as she glanced around at all the buildings, trying to read the different signs as she walked along, her wings twitching thoughtfully behind her so they produced a sound akin to paper rubbing together. She was so focused on craning her neck back to stare up at all the signs, reading them and looking for one that sounded appropriate--taverns! Who needed taverns! She just wanted a seamstress!--that she didn't notice the terror that lie ahead until it was too late.

She walked past an alley, where a trashcan lay tipped over, flies buzzing around the contents, which in and of itself made her walk just a little faster. Ew...flies. They always made her a little nervous, since baby flies ate corpses and all. Ahem. But it was the sound she suddenly heard come from behind the trashcan that sent a chill of terror down her spine, and when she saw the nightmarish face that peered out from around the rubbish heap at her...

Sirka let out a sharp screech when the cat mewled for a second time, tail lashing out behind it like some demonic serpant about to strike. Oh sure, it looked cute and fuzzy with its soft black and white fur and pretty yellow eyes, but she knew it just wanted to claw her. To bite her. To unwravel all her stitches like so much yarn. Not that she minded the clawing or biting, actually, since pain no longer felt unpleasant but rather good, but she did mind the unwraveling! It was so much work to sew herself back up, and the point was those little beasts were evil! With another yelp, she turned and ran back to the nearest building, which happened to be the tavern she had just passed. But she didn't care! As long as it was away from that!

Yanking the door open, she scrambled inside and slammed the door shut behind her, a little breathless and leaning back against it in her relief. Oh good. The monster hadn't followed her...she swept her eyes over the area quickly, just to make sure there were no other cats or weird...furry things here. Shudder. Yeah, she failed at being a faerie. She never had been good at that whole "be one with nature" thing. Of course, she failed at that in more ways than just...that.

Seeing none, she let out a sigh of relief, dusted off her skirts, and fluffed her short hair to make herself more presentable, and it was during this that she caught the tail end of a conversation that one colorful, tall man seemed to be having with...his glass? Or, at least, he had been until it apparently gave him the wrong answer and he started to shun it.

How mean...

That was enough to take her thoughts off the terror that she had just faced outside. It even made her forget about her quest for thread.

Smiling with amusement, Sirka sidled on over to him, reached up, and tapped the man on the arm. She always had been the forward type. "You oughta be ashamed of yourself, sir, treating the poor glass like that!" she told him, lips pressed together in a mock frown, hands on her hips. "Really, it's not its fault it's been locked up in a smelly tavern all this time, you can't blame it for being ignorant. If anyone is to blame, it's the barkeep for holding it prisoner all this time. Honestly...the poor thing has probably never even seen a stone! You should feel sorry for it...and apologize for being so mean. It's a silly argument, and not worth holding a grudge over!"

Still frowning, she reached up and ran her fingers consolingly over the glass. "Now, you two...make up."

[Anonymous]

His efforts to find a suitable person to pester for the time being were a failure as he found only thieves and the like waiting for him in the tavern. Dejected he stayed in his seat and simply sighed to himself. Damn, and here he thought there might be some strange person that would entertain his insane needs but alas, apparently he was wrong.

Wrong was the terminology often used in varying situations. However, Fenris wasn't wrong in this case, as he heard something from behind him, and felt a tap on his arm. Fenris didn't need to move to see the woman. He could focus his consciousness to see all around him at one time. Thankfully his mind could handle such a task and process all the information. However, he had to turn around for what he saw and heard.

"You forget dear woman," Fenris said as his eyes of multiple colours focused on her with a smile. "Glass is made up of million little pieces of sand. Sand is primarily made from mountains and the like. Therefore, the glass should have known the answer to my question. It chose to bubble and say whiskey." Fenris pointed out to her. He was not going to make up to a glass that wasn't intelligent after all. It just would be so against his policy.

However, his hand came to hers on the glass and gripped them carefully, looking to them. Slowly his eyes travelled up her arm, as if he were inspecting her. Heh. As if. He was inspecting her. Getting to know what the devil she was. He found out of course through very little concentration needed.

"You're an undead. Not smelly though like some undead I've met. Mm, cold too. I do like the cold sorta kinda."He kept his fingers wrapped around her hand for a moment longer before letting go. Finally his eyes travelled upwards to her head, and he let out a squeala of delight, bolting form his chair to move around her and place his hands in her hair. He was inspecting, caressing, combing through the locks of pink hair with an impish grin.

"Look at this hair! That's FANTASTIC!" People were no doubt staring at him as he rifled through her hair with a grin on his face. He always had a thing for hair that wasn't normal colour. His was natural however, and he was inspecting to see if hers was as well. She was a zombie, so her hair wouldn't grow right? That meant it could technically be natural, but he didn't really care.

"You are a very FANTASTIC creature Miss." Fenris said absently as he plucked a single hair from her hair before retreating back to his seat.

"My name is Fenris by the way. Fenris Lanrete." He didn't seem to be paying attention to her, as much as he was interested in her hair. A hand went and pulled his own hair out and grinned. Then he touched the lock of her hair to his head, and the shocking green hair matched the pink of her hair. He had that impish grin on as he touched his original hair to his head, turning it green.

"Pink...green...pink...green...pink...green..." Then after a few times of doing this strange thing, he discarded the hair and began to giggle uncontrollably. It was hard to understand if he was just carefree, or quite insane. Chances were it was that second one. Finally he managed to stop giggling, and he sat up straight, dusting himself off.

"So what's your name and why are you here? Also, you look kinda like you're falling apart." He noted to her as he grinned at her. Fenris spoke his mind whenever he could. That was his way, and he was just strange anyways. Besides, he liked the look of this strange pink haired undead girl. The stitching was a little off putting, but he could always sew her up nice and proper! With some colour changing threads even! Hm, that probably wouldn't look, clash with her skin and all that jazz.

Still, he did like her clothes. All those skirts and what not. He did like frilly things! Frilly things with silk and lace. Mm!

[Rhindeer]

Wow...Sirka couldn't help but stare at the man's eyes when he turned to look at her, amazed by their color. Or colors, rather. Oh wow. She'd never seen anyone with eyes like that, and she'd seen a lot of people with weird eyes in her many long years of life! But his eyes looked more like they were made of light...and she found herself wondering if, unlike normal vision, he saw everything in rainbow colors.

She'd just have to ask him that. And ask him she would, once she got the chance. She'd lived too long to be shy about a thing!

"Ohh..." For a moment she looked thoughtful as the man answered. He did have a point! In that case, the glass should have known better, unless it was very stupid or very forgetful. But then something else struck her. Bubble and say whiskey? Aha! She thought she knew the answer to this one! "But how do you know it was the glass talking in that case? That sounds more like it was the whiskey speaking. Glasses don't bubble, silly! The liquid in them does, though! I think it's the whiskey that played you false. You really ought to watch out for these things." She gave a sure nod, still smiling.

Sirka didn't think the man insane for talking to glasses. Then again, she'd also come from Necromantia where weirder things happened that were actually quite normal. Don't even get her started on that possessed outhouse...that thing had been a nightmare and a half. Rudest thing she'd ever met...

Gasping in surprise as he suddenly grasped her hand, she looked at her own hand curiously, then suddenly laughed when he spoke. Well now! He was a sharp one, wasn't he? Most people just saw the wings and guessed faerie, and she could usually blame her cold hands on poor circulation--which wasn't a lie, either. But he'd guessed it dead on and she saw no reason to disagree; he didn't seem like one of those weird zombie slayers. Still...

"That's only half true, sir!" Sirka chimed in, reclaiming her hand when he released it and quickly using it to cradle her other arm, the one that was starting to fall off at the elbow. Luckily her long sleeves were long and even covered the tops of her hands when her arms were at her sides, so the fact that it was coming off was hidden. Unless someone with a good eye noticed how oddly that particular joint was bending. "I'm an undead faerie, and--oh!"

It was then that he squealed suddenly, the unexpected sound making her jump, and then he'd suddenly bolted to his feet so he could play with her hair. A giggle escaped her as she let him mess with her hair, not minding and instead rather enjoying it. It always felt cool when someone else messed with your hair, and the praise he showered on her only made it that much better. "Thank you, sir, you're rather fantastic yourself!" she told him, giving a small, accute shiver when he plucked a hair from her head. She didn't question it, either; she just figured it was an accident, as one could get their fingers tangled up easily.

"Pleasure to meet you, Fenris!" Sirka said, giving a swift curtsey out of habit, a habit that came from serving in a noble family's house for quite a few generations. That done, she had been about ready to introduce herself as soon as he'd introduced himself, but then...she sort fo got distracted. Her pink eyes rolled up to look at what he was doing, seeming interested in the hair he'd plucked from her before plucking one of his own hairs and...using the hairs to change his hair color. Sirka watched him amuse himself for a while, and she couldn't help but laugh with him when he was finished. "Eheh, I think next time you should go for green and pink streaks! Can you do that?" she asked, before straightening as he asked her name and all.

"Oh! I'm Sirka, just Sirka," she said, still smiling, nicely hiding her surprise at his observation. Falling...apart? So he could tell? Eep, guess he was one of those keen observers. "And I'm here to find some thread, actually, for the...falling apart issue. I just need to make some repairs, it's nothing serious! It happens all the time." She smoothed out her dress absently and shook her head. "The only time it would ever be serious is if both my arms fell off! Then it might be hard to sew. Oh, by the way, I just have to ask you because it's been really bugging me, so I hope you'll excuse me, but...your eyes. Do you see in rainbows?"

That  wasn't a bad question! If he was forward, she could be too!

[Anonymous]

He did love it when people looked at his eyes. Finally someone who was bold enough to openly stare at them. Fenris enjoyed...no...he adored attention, and that was probably very obvious to say the least. Oh and this strange young creature seemed to like them very much! Yay!

"Huh, well maybe I guess the whiskey was throwing it's voice...Alcohol is very tricky like that, you have to be careful when dealing with it." Well, Fenris had never talked about whiskey before, but it was fun, this woman had a good mindset like he did. That was a plus, he had someone to talk to that understood him, or at least, was just as insane as he was. Excellent.

"Half true? Full true I would say. See you were alive...then you died... and now you're alive again. That makes you Undead. That is full true." It was hard to get into a debate about the nature of Undead. Where he came from, anyone who underwent the process from being dead to then alive they became 'Undead.' That included Vampires, Zombies, Animated Skeletons, and even golems of sorts.

"I'd say you're much more fantastic really. Well...no...okay, we're tied I'm going to say. Yeah. Tied works." Fenris said as he fiddled with her hair. It was so interesting! Silkyish, soft, and pink! Pink was such a great colours really. It had such...style! It was one of his favourite colours...Next to green...and red...and then...oh he just loved all colours equally. There was something off when he had plucked the hair from her head. She hadn't flinched...she had...shivered. Pleasure? Cold? She couldn't have been cold...so...Hm. Interesting.

"I probably could...I don't even need your hair strand anymore. It's locked into my hair now." He reached up to point at his hair, running his index finger through different locks of his hair. Each time he touched the hair, there were streaks of pink. Finally he done after about seven streaks, and he giggled clapping his hands together. Oh it looked fantastic as he could see it at this point with his special eyes.

"Sirka! Very pleased to be meeting you and your fantastic hair!" He said as he bowed in his chair to her. Heh heh, of course he knew she needed repairs. He had felt it in her arm when he touched her. Hell, he had felt all the l ittle stitches that weren't up strength. He could feel them now just by pushing his mind out and utilizing the psychic powers. However, he wasn't going to do that of course, as he didn't really need to-Oh. A question!

"If I want to then yes! If I want to see normally then I see normally. If I want to see behind me then I can, if I want to see behind you I can! If I want to be all sneaky and see what you can see, then I can do that too!" He could focus his vision pretty much anywhere. He could even look out from inside the whiskey and see himself talking. A normal mortal mind wouldn't be able to handle such a task but he was lucky that he had no limitations to his mind so to speak. It wasn't stuck in the confines of a brain, it was stuck in the confines of a large collection of chaotic energy.

"So you need to sew your arm up eh? Well then I can help with that!" He pointed to the bar counter, at the glass, which promptly turned into a potted plant. Fenris blinked a few times as he noted as it was red, purple, and a vibrant yellow. He pointed again, and the plant turned into a pink tomato.

"I'll get it, hold on." Chaotic energy was a little hard to get it to do what you want. He focused his powers as best he could and pointed at the tomato again. Finally it turned into a needle and a spool of strange multicoloured stitching thread. A good durable thread was always handy after all, and this was made to hold skin together. He grinned and grabbed both of them, carefully, then looked to her, holding them out to her.

"Stitching thread and needle! Want me to sew?" That was a loaded question. Was it good to trust this strange man who just turned a glass of whiskey into a potted plant and a pink tomato? Of course it was!

[Rhindeer]

"Oh, okay, you're right," Sirka said with a laugh and a wave of her hand, and then she laughed again at what he said next. "Oh, excellent! We can be fantastic together, then!" Ah, coming to this tavern had been the perfect idea! Even if it hadn't been an idea but an impulse to escape that wretched monster out there. Necromantia didn't have many cute, furry things...

And then Fenris anwered her question about his hair--by streaking it with seven streaks of pink. Wow! She stared at his hair, beaming, and then applauded afterwards. "Oh, that looks good on you! That suits you nicely, very lovely combination if I do say so myself. And my hair is very happy to meet you and your hair, too!" she added, fluffing her own boyishly short hair as she spoke.

She listened as he answered her question, and turned her head to look behind them as he explained, trying to imagine what having vision like that would be like. Then, suddenly, she giggled. "That sounds an awful lot like how a fly sees! Only...different and...well, not a fly, never mind that, but kind of like a god. I heard they're omniscient, are they not? It must be really nice to have vision like that!" And still she seemed to find nothing strange at all with the fact that he had such weird vision--nor that he could see in rainbows and everything if he wanted. Sirka was, for the most part, unphaseable.

Sirka nodded in confirmation as he asked if she needed her arm sewn up, and then she watched as he pointed to the glass...and turned it into a potted plant? Now, that wouldn't help her very much with her arm! And neither would the pink tomato. Politely, she covered her mouth with a hand to muffle her giggle as she nodded again at his words, waiting patiently. Poor fellow wasn't very good at magic, was he? But he finally seemed to get it, producing a needle and some pretty, multi-colored thread, which he offered her.

"I'd love the help, but I really think I should do it," Sirka said with a calm smile, reaching out to take the thread and needle, examining both interestedly. "Thank you kindly!" Hm...that was some thread! Colorful, wouldn't blend in well with her skin, but thread was thread and her skin was hidden beneath her sleeves anyway! She set the needle and thread on the bar counter, climbed up onto a stool near the man and fixed her skirts, then let her "falling apart" arm rest in her lap. She pushed back the sleeve to reveal...skin that may have at one time been smooth and pretty, but was now quite damaged, little scars running along it here and there, and then the big, obvious problem--the fact that her arm was falling off at the elbow, held together only by some crude thread. The skin there was a mess, having obviously been poked with a needle countless times, leaving the skin pretty much shredded.

Luckily due to her fae magic, she still healed over time. It just took longer than it would have if she was alive. It was a good thing, too, because with as long as she had lived, she would have by now run out of skin to sew if that weren't the case.

Humming to herself, Sirka worked on removing the old thread and dropped it into her lap when that task was complete. Now her arm was completely detached from her body, and bone and muscle could be seen, yet the wound didn'd bleed. It had the first time her arm had been hacked off. Now it just...didn't. She didn't really understand it herself, but she just figured it was one of those "undead" things.

"So, mister Fenris, what are you doing in a place like this?" she asked conversationally as she drew out a length of multi-colored thread and licked the end. After that, she worked on threading the needle, leaning down close to her lap so she could employ the help of her detatched arm. After all, the hand still worked just fine! She could still move it for some reason. Needle threaded, she knotted the thread, and then began the process of sewing her arm back together.

Indeed, it was better if she did this herself. Because it hurt as she sank the needle into her skin and drew the thread through it, and yet her flesh thrilled with it, though she managed to repress the shiver before it began. It was a difficult sensation to explain, but needless to say, over the centuries after living with her...condition...pain and pleasure had gradually become one and the same, and she loved it. It was probably her body's way of dealing with it all so she didn't just go crazy.

[Anonymous]

"Mm, two fantastic beings in such close proximity, I know there has to be a dogmatic rule about that somewhere...Something about too much fantasticness in one area...I can't remember, I wasn't paying much attention." It was a good question if Fenris could keep his attention...while some things could indeed capture his interest for more than a minute, it wasn't often he came to find something along those lines.

"It does look pretty damn good I must say." He ran his hand through it, just to give it a little more bounce. He wondered idly if hair could actually be pleased to meet people. Hm, if so then his hair would be the happiest hair ever. Yeah. Cause...he was Fenris, and everything about him was happy and awesome! Bwahahaha!

"Well I am technically a God. Well not me personally at this point but my creator was a God. He made me so he could go exploring without ever leaving his home realm, as that's a big no no. I just stopped going back to my home realm so he's probably sad that I haven't come back to give him all the memories." Ah Fenris was a strange one. His life was all about collecting memories, but he had become lost upon the way. Not lost. Bored. He simply desired more, so he was just collecting a large sum of memories for his counter part. Though, his powers and consciousness wasn't as great as the God's were, but he still inherited some nifty powers!

"Hey, you can't laugh at my magic. It's not my fault the pure embodiment of Chaos runs through this body. Well I guess it is kinda my fault after all...Mostly partly...Bah!" He didn't want to get into the logistics of his chaotic ways at this point, as well, it just wouldn't be very interesting for the fae girl. No, it would be very bad he was sure, and he didn't want to bore her to death with it all. His eyes stayed glued upon her as she accepted the thread, and he grinned.

"Bah, I can stitch circles around you!"He would stitch circles onto her no doubt, around might be a little difficult to say the least...well around her might be very hard. There was a bar counter and a floor in the way after all. That would be very difficult to stitch up, this much he knew.

Fenris went quiet as he watched the girl pull up her sleeve to start stitching herself up. He even blinked a few times as his head tilted to the side and his arms crossed over his chest. Ick. He didn't like that at all. Not at all. Her skin was all shredded and ripped, and that made him feel sad. Obviously her stitchings had come undone quite a number of times and she had to repair it.

"Geez. You really have to stop falling apart y'know. Your skin looks terrible. Just dreadful. Not fantastic at all." He had reached out and poked her skin once, watching it carefully. Hummm. Would it be prudent to heal her? Chaotic energy was perfect for both healing and necromancy, because chaos energy was random it could be made into whatever was needed. If Fenris really tried, his magic wouldn't mess up, but he always loved to see the end results of just letting chaos energy do it's work.

He giggled though when she removed her arm completely. He wanted to just take her arm and run off with it. Why? He had no idea, but it seemed like a good idea. He stopped his impulsive behaviour though and just continued to watch. He was fascinated by it that she could do that without really batting an eye. She asked him a question, as as if this was common place. Well, it probably was common place for her after all...

"Oh I'm exploring realms and yours just so happen to come up in the places that I get flung to from the twisting chaos that is my travel method, and well I just sorta landed around here." Fenris always did love to travel realms, mainly because other realms had more people, and more people meant more attention. So far, this was one of the best places he'd been to. Already a few days in and he'd met a pink haired Undead Fae! Yay!

"So you asked a question, now I get to ask a question! That's how this'll all work out. Ahem hem hem! Why do you shiver with the needle and the hair pulling?" Oh he had caught that. Even though she managed to repress it, he could see it. He saw a lot of things, things people probably didn't want him to see, but he could see them anyway. You couldn't hide from the multi-coloured gaze of Fenris! Unless you hid real good. Like...under a rock or something. He wasn't actually sure the extent of his sight, but he knew that he could see at some really cool angles and in some really psychedelic colours!

[Rhindeer]

Two fantastic beings...heehee, she didn't think she'd ever been around anyone who thought she was fantastic before! This was rather nice! She wasn't really used to this sort of attention, but she could certainly get used to it fast, and maybe even spoiled by it too. Giggling, Sirka shook her head as Fenris fluffed his hair. Oh my, for someone so tall and...manly?...he was certainly girly! Well, kind of. She liked it, though, but then again she was just weird.

"Oh! Kinda like an avatar!" Sirka concluded with a nod, once again taking this all in like it was, well, normal. It wasn't really and she found it interesting nonetheless, but Necromantia was also a place with a very active deity, after all! Still, what she was surprised about was how he was acting. He sure didn't act like how she'd imagine a God...or technical God...to act. Then again... "Wow...you're the first God, or technical God, that I've met. You're sure different from what I'd expected. Not that I expected you!"

Goodness, she sure wasn't treating him like a God, though, was she? Well, he didn't seem like the type that would smite her for disrespect. Then again, she might not mind being smote.

Stitch circles around her, hm? Oh dear. Sirka closed her mouth before she could say that he'd have to show her one day because, no, that wouldn't be a good thing to say. Especially if it meant stitching things on her. After all, they'd only just met! You just didn't let someone you'd just met stitch up your skin--at least, not when you were like her! Ahem. So instead she just smiled and nodded in agreement. "I'm sure you could, mister Fenris, being a technical God and all! Maybe we should have a contest some day, though you'd probably win anyway." Not that she knew if they'd be around each other that long, but it was just fun banter, that was all!

Her cheery demeanor did darken a little, though, when Fenris saw her mangled skin and commented on it. It wasn't like she expected praise or compliments on it, because she knew it was terrible--and the rest of her body wasn't much better. But even if she knew it looked awful, she didn't exactly like it when people told her it was horrible! Especially in so many words! Indeed, it was a bit complicated, but Sirka had something of a love-hate relationship with her body.

Still, a new smile quickly replaced her frown, if a little weaker, as she continued to weave the needle and thread in and out of her flesh, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end even as she tried to hide how nice the sharp prick of the needle felt to her. "Oh, I know, but that's all a bit tricky when you're dead you know! Skin just isn't the same dead as it is when you're alive!" she answered cheerfully, holding up the needle pointledly, before going right back to her sewing--though she wondered why he was suddenly giggling. Oh! Her arm, right! Well, it was really funny to watch, she had to admit! And sometimes when she was bored she dissected herself just for the fun of it.

She listened as he answered her question, and blinked slowly, raising her eyes up from her work. Then she just shook her head and laughed a little. Oh, right! So maybe he'd already answered her question earlier when he'd explained that bit about being a God--technically!--and all. Sirka had been about to ask a question, still curious about all that...but he beat her to it. And also explained their new question asking game. And...asked an interesting question.

Well, this would be fun to explain! Sirka actually blushed a little, her pink eyes suddenly fixed rather intently on her arm, which she had finished sewing up.

"Oh dear, so you noticed..." she began softly, pausing so she could sever the thread with her teeth and then tie it off tightly. Oh my. That was always an interesting question to answer. Usually she didn't answer it at all because it scared people away, but this fellow hadn't freaked out when she'd taken off her arm or when she'd sewed it back up, and everything else after that was minor compared to that! Flexing her arm experimentally, she smiled with satisfaction and rolled her sleeve back down, setting the leftover thread back up on the counter though she still found herself absently fiddling with the needle, tapping a fingertip to the point but not to the point of breaking the skin. Ah, she couldn't help it. She was drawn to sharp things.

Content, she focused her gaze back on Fenris.

"Well, you see...that's actually because I don't exactly experience pain like everyone else," Sirka told him, and coughed discreetly into one hand. It wasn't that she was embarrassed, exactly--heaven's no, not after as long as she had lived and with all that she'd seen and done!--but it still sounded strange even to herself. "It's not unpleasant like it was before I died. It's actually quite...pleasant now." She smiled up at him, still calm as ever. Wow, if that wasn't an understatement. Quite pleasant didn't quite cover it, but it would have to do!

Anyway! Subject change!

"So, mister Fenris...how do you like it here so far, then? How does it compare to other places you've been?" she asked, a lame question but it was an attempt to get away from the other thing. After all, as easy as it was to forget, they were in the middle of a tavern talking openly about this! People would probably think they were crazy. They might not be wrong, either. "Not that I'd know! I've lived in one country for hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years...only just managed to get out! Oops..."

Noticing that she was getting dangerously close to carving into her palm with the needle, having been tracing it absently along the lines of her left hand, she quickly set it back on the counter and folded her hands in her lap.

[Anonymous]

Of course, Fenris found a lot of THINGS fantastic, so that dulled the word a lot, but it wasn't often that Fenris actually said this about people, so if Sirka knew, she might feel a whole lot more special! Fenris did love to lavish attention on people and single them out, just as he loved to have attention given to him. Usually when you paid a person a lot of attention, they in turn paid attention to you. How could he resist not doing that? It worked after all, as this woman was all ears and eyes upon him.

"I guess you could call it that, but I've lost all those cool godly powers that the real Fenris has. Not that I still don't have a trick or two up my sleeve after all!" Though much of the Godly power was gone, the word Avatar held little meaning. He didn't have incredible powers (Well, not true, he had some rather interesting and strong powers, but nothing like a true avatar might wield.) and he wasn't controlled by the God anymore. One he had left his home realm, the controlling thoughts of the real Fenris just...disappeared. He was a completely new entity, and he was ecstatic about that.

"Please, a God is all benevolent and  all knowing. I definitely don't know all, or super benevolent. I'm just Fenris!" And he winked while grinning. That's all he wanted to be, was just Fenris. No Godly attention, no one worshipping him, no one praying to him, just to be another person in the world! Thats all he was at this time, and he hoped she'd eventually get to that point as well. Just thinking of him as Fenris. A mixed up fellow who loves a good time to say the least.

"That and I practise my stitching all the time. Like these clothes here! Stitched them all myself. Sure I conjured the material and when I didn't get one right I tossed it away and started again but still! I stitched it all by myself." He gestured to his outfit, which wasn't totally stitched by him, but a good amount of his clothes had been all stitched up by himself. He was so proud of this outfit too, one he didn't actually conjure just with his will. It had been handmade, and after he got bored of it, he would toss it away and make a new one! Yay!

Fenris had a big mouth, and he had caught the little bit of darkening attitude after his comment about her body. Fenris liked to speak his mind unfortunately, and sometimes that got him in a lot of trouble. Just like when he had encountered those cannibals that one time. Telling them you were fantastic didn't help him, and he literally escaped by the skin of his...well skin actually. He should have learnt from that experience but then again...why would he really need to? He was Fenris! Not like that was the greatest excuse in the world of course.

Oh! She blushed though! Which probably was quite a feat he was sure, but this was good! His gaze was strong now, upon her he was trying to pierce her very soul. Damn, sometimes he wished he could see people's souls, that would have been an interesting vision. Ah well. He nodded when she stated he noticed, and grinned of course. He did like to grin, he had what he thought were good grinning teeth. Not too yellow, but not too white, they were mostly straight, so grinning was great to him!He watched her tie off the thread, he was happy that everything seemed to work.  He did see that she kept the needle and was fiddling with it almost subconsciously. Hmm. She really did like her some pain didn't she?

So, in death her body experienced pain now as pleasure. Hmmm. There had to be a connection there. After all, experiencing death first hand is the most painful experience in the world. This much he knew, even if you died in your sleep 'peacefully' it still hurt, and to be brought back to life. Brrr. Pain just wouldn't be same after that. Fenris could remember a few people he had met in his travels who were like this. Resurrection often ended up with pain being pleasure. It was quite and interesting thing actually.

"Well that explains everything to me. Alright now to answer your question! I'd say this realm here compares really high to other places. Not too technological, just the right amount of magic, and a cute undead girl with pink hair. I could really get used to this!" Was Fenris actually flirting with Sirka, or just making a pointed observation? It was impossible to tell at this point, but whatever he was doing he was really good at it. Just a smile and a nod and he was onto the next part of the conversation.

When she put down the needle he watched it for a moment before pointing at it. Finally the needle disappeared and he smiled at her. His hand reached out and he took her hand within his, palm up looking down at it. He seemed to be staring intently at her hand. She hadn't gone so far as to starting to carve herself with the needle, but she had been close. Absently he traced a finger along her palm, watching it carefully.

"Magical laden bodies are amazing things. Magic courses through your body like a river cuts through the valley." He told her as he slowly lifted his finger from her skin. Small puffs of magic were following his finger, drawing it from her to a degree. He was spinning it around into a small vortex of sorts and then finally moved his finger away. The vortex stayed in the palm of her hand, and he continued to stare at it like it was the focus of his complete attention. It was actually just that, he was testing something out. Slowly it become different, the entire construct of the energy changed colour, well, it went from being a grayish colour to having thousand of colours.

"I can heal you." Fenris looked up to her with a grin as he suddenly dropped his hands away, the magic that was circling around her hand just disappeared and he watched her face, as if scanning her. He didn't like the idea of the stitches on her body, even if the thread was Chaotic and his own design, but still...he liked it when people didn't have to worry about falling apart. He really wondered just how much she was falling apart. He had met some Undead people that had hands, arms, forearms, even a the upper and lower torso could be detached. It was a little unnerving, even for Fenris so that was a stretch.

"Or for the most part I can make your those little stitch marks disappear, make the little scars that mar your skin go away. How about it? I can make your skin fantastical!" She was already pretty fantastic, but her skin was a little weird, but he could always heal her and make it better! He knew it was probably a sensitive subject with her, and luckily he wasn't very tentative with his words, he just spoke his mind when he wanted to. Ah, to be carefree and completely insane.

[Rhindeer]

"Oh, okay! Just Fenris then!" Sirka agreed with a nod, also grinning. Ah, she couldn't help it! She rather liked this fellow, and it was hard not to smile around him! His grin was rather infectious, as was his cheerful air...not to mention she liked his eyes...

With a slight start, she tore her eyes away from his face and focused instead on his clothes as he began to speak about them, then gave a little laugh. He seemed so proud of that feat! And it seemed they certainly had something in common here, since she enjoyed sewing and also made her own clothes, too. That had also been one of her duties back in Necromantia. "And you did a very good job, too, Mister Fenris!" she told him, reaching out briefly to touch the fabric lightly with her fingers. "I can't see a flaw there, in fact, and it's a very nice outfit."

That he said he practiced his stitching all the time only further drove home his claim of not being a God. Gods didn't need to practice to be good at something! She still didn't quite understand how he worked, how he wasn't an avatar if he was technically a God but...wasn't a God...but that was a question for another time! Sirka wasn't the most knowledgeable when it came to deities and how they worked, to be honest. In Necromantia, they only worshipped a single Goddess, the Goddess of death, and even among her own fae tribe they were more animists than theists--they acknowledged that there were Gods, but just didn't concern themselves with them like they did with the local spirits.

Smiling at Fenris as he accepted her explanation--and calmly, too; it didn't seem to disturb him--she listened interestedly as he answered her question in turn and...actually blushed again as his ending statement. Oh dear. He was sure heavy with the compliments! She could really get used to this, too! Covering her mouth, she giggled quietly behind her hand. "Ehehe, cute? You flatter me..."

And then he went ahead and took her hand then, that needle--sadly--vanishing, and she blinked as she watched him stare intently at her hand, the one she'd been tracing with the needle. Was he worried that she'd hurt herself? Then he started to trace his finger along her palm, and she relaxed. That always felt cool and oddly good, but then she had to watch in amazement, instantly distracted, as he spoke and began to draw magic from her body, creating a vortex in her palm, which he stared at. Her own eyes widened and she leaned forward a little, wondering what he was doing and what that all meant.

It soon became clear when he released her hand and the vortex vanished.

Sirka looked up at Fenris then, concern in those odd pink eyes as she absently rubbed her hand. "Heal me?" she repeated curiously, tilting her head and then tapping a finger to her lips. She seemed to be thinking it over, surprised by his offer. Not many people had offered something like that, but then again not many people had ever actually seen what she was all about. Back in Necromantia it didn't really matter; there were plenty of zombies there, after all, a lot of them a lot more messed up than she! She was just lucky that her fae magic kept her intact, otherwise she'd be all...rotting like a lot of the others. Eww. But it still wasn't the first time she'd been offered a sort of healing.

Only back in Necromantia, it had been a threat. A threat to bring her back to life, really back to life. Which would of course actually kill her. With the extent of her wounds, and not to mention how badly her body was messed up internally, if she was to actually live again there would be a lot of pain and a lot of...dying. She was pretty sure that pain would feel awful if she was actually alive, because she sure knew that dying the first time had not been fun. It had been slow and excruciating, watching the blood pour out of her stump of an arm from between her fingers as her vision gradually darkened and the pain washed over her in waves of agony.

Sirka shuddered, a mixture of excitement and fear, because now that whole thought was quite appealing of course. Hmm...that was another thing to consider, actually. "Okay! But only if the healing is purely cosmetic," she told Fenris finally, removing her finger from her lips and holding it up emphatically. "I don't want to live again or anything! I rather like being dead, after all! Oh, and one more thing..." She cleared her throat and played with the top layer of her skirts, swinging her legs slowly. "I...well...if you heal me, I can't guarantee how long it'll last! I might end up doing something that will just make it all yucky again, and I do like being able to take myself apart..." she admitted, once again faintly blushing and rubbing her stitched up arm thoughtfully.

Well, it was best to just be honest at this point, since he was offering to help her. Ah, and there it was. Her love-hate relationship with her body. She enjoyed being dead and she loved pain, but she hated the scars and gross-looking skin that resulted from her little experiments. And the experiments of others, if she could find someone that enjoyed being "rough" and wasn't put off by her looks. Or the fact that her skin was cold and she was, well...technically dead.

That had only happened in Necromantia, though, and her little flings had been a secret, too. The family that had owned her for generations wouldn't have liked that at all! After all, to them she was just a mindless zombie like their other servants. If only they knew how fae magic worked, that fae just weren't so easily subdued or controlled. She'd played her part, too--until she finally found a chance to escape. Thank goodness the current lord was so inept, otherwise that rare chance might have never come.

"Aside from that, I would love if you could make my skin all fantastic, Mister Fenris!" she told him with a cheery smile, twitching her wings out behind her which made the damaged, delicate membrane flutter where it was torn. "I haven't been without scars in centuries, and...oh...and if you could heal my wings, too...goodness knows, I'd be forever grateful. These old things had been the first things to go..." With a sad smile, she touched one wing gently.

[Anonymous]

"Yes, just Fenris!" He nodded again at that, that grin just exploding onto his face. Not literally, but still you couldn't be too sure with Fenris after all. He just had this way of making people happy and excited along with him.

"Why thank you! I had to practise a lot to get this good you know. It was quite difficult to learn, I kept sewing the fabric to myself, which kinda hurt I guess, but thankfully I don't bleed so I never ruined any clothing!" Fenris had this way of just rambling and being incredibly excited about his own feats. They were mundane feats but when you technically used to be a God and you could just will things into existence...well when you start doing things by hand it seems like a huge feat. That and well, he was always proud of his clothing and sewing abilities after all. That was the first thing he started practicing when he became...this.

"But it's all true and fun!" So Fenris was paying her compliments left right and centre, but it was mostly harmless. Fenris just liked to say compliments, because compliments were sometimes very fantastic things. That and it gave him an excuse to talk, which was one of the things he loved to do as anyone could plainly see. Still that grin stayed on his face, he was almost bouncing up and down in his stool at this point. Almost!

"Yes yes. Heal your little scars all over your arms and body!" Fenris couldn't bring people back from the dead. Chaos magic may have been good but there wasn't a way to do something that powerful. No Necromancy was a very Order based magic, that was his sister Feris's speciality. Hm hm hm...Oh! She said it was okay then! Hooah! That was good then wasn't it? He liked to heal people, because it looked neat. Thankfully Chaos healing was powerful and fantastic for the most part.

"Really? Ah right the pain thing! Well then, I guess that means I'll be all staying around you to make sure that your wounds don't stay!" That and because she was fantastic and he had taken a shine to the girl. She was intriguing, and she managed to hold his attention which was a good thing in his mind. If of course he had a mind to speak of. He knew there was something in there! Still, she seemed embarrassed by that sorta thing...

"Now stop your blushing cause Fenris is gonna make you all healed up now! Not in here, outside where I can focus better an do a greater job at it!" With that, he grabbed her arm and gently pulled her from the chair, careful not to rip her arm off. He led her around the tables and such until he dragged her outside into the cool night air. Excellent! Chaos was strongest with the elements about, it meant there was more of it around. That and he just loved the outdoors for some reason. Usually smelled pretty fantastic after all!

"Okay, one Fenris healing coming right up!" His hands clapped together in front of him as he took a step back, apparently his eyes were upon her, watching her carefully. He had gotten a feel for every scar on her body really, and the ones within for that matter. While he couldn't bring her back to life, he could make it so she looked like she was alive again! That was always a nice treat for some people.

Slowly his eyes began to glow brighter, the light from the sockets falling upon her as he focused the powers within and about him. Healing was just like sewing actually, maybe that's why he was so good at? It was very similar and would probably feel just the same actually. So he focused upon her wounds and damaged parts, slowly mending the skin together, even getting rid of the stitches in her arms for that matter. Bones would seal themselves against the proper bones, muscles and cartiledge would remake themselves, and all the little needle holes in her body would fix themselves up. Fenris could feel every wound from here, every little bit of ruined flesh that needed to be repaired he could repair. Though a lot of the material from her wings were gone, he knew what he could do.

Wings were hard since he wasn't familiar with actual material, the membrane they had been, but he could fix 'em with a bit of ingenuity. The torn pieces would attach to the right places, and whatever missing pieces weren't there would be replaced with some very strange looking membrane. The places where he created the membrane resembled his own eyes actually, except the colours weren't swirling or moving, but were stuck in place. Still, when he was done the wings looked rather fantastic actually. His eyes began to dim back to their original brightness and he grinned at her, clapping his hands twice.

"I am fantastic, but you're even more fantastic! Look it those wings!" He was right there beside her, his hand out slowly stroking along her wings, more so along the parts that had been fused by Chaos membranes. Hehe, they looked rather pretty actually! Now she didn't have to worry about falling apart too much.

"But 'cha gotta be careful with them, and don't go cutting your limbs off." He understood her love of pain, it was the way the body dealt with death and pain now. Still, he didn't much care for the idea of her just cutting her arms off because she liked the pain. No that wouldn't work at all for him. Not with something this fantastic and pretty.

"Okay? So no roughing up your wings or cutting off limbs. That way you'll still be all fantasticness. Hafta figure something out with that pain thingy. Maybe make you a knife that can cut and heal in different instances..."

[Rhindeer]

Little scars? Sirka had to laugh a little at that, just because, well, if he could see what her body looked like beneath that dress, those scars sure weren't little! She had quite the impressive one going down straight from the middle of her chest all the way down to the bottom of her belly, like she'd been gutted like a fish, and that one had been stitched up as well. That wound was her own doing and a result of sheer boredom one day, because what did she do when she was bored? She decided to cut herself open and see how everything worked and what it looked like. That it had felt good was a definite bonus! The only downside was that she hadn't quite been able to arrange everything back to the way it had been and it had been a little awkward to explain to the lady of the house when she'd walked in and found Sirka trying to get everything to fit.

Yeah. Sirka had a lot of internal damage, too. But hey! When you were dead and it felt good, you didn't really care because it was all good! Sirka only cared because she didn't want there to be any odd lumps in any weird places. Fitting into a dress would be awful after that!

She rather prided herself on her figure, after all. But that was a secret; her fae vanity had been tempered for the most part as she'd been humbled by ages of servitude.

In any case, Fenris seemed to understand. In fact, he seemed to understand really well, so much so that he actually said he'd stick around and heal her if she created any new wounds. Or, at least, that's what she got from his meaning. Another person might have protested at the thought of a random stranger suddenly attaching themselves to them, but Sirka only flashed a bright, if surprised, smile his way and sat up straighter in her seat. If he turned out to be some crazy psycho killer down the road, honestly, she wasn't worried. Maybe she just wasn't as cautious as she should have been, but when you were dead and a masochist there just wasn't all that much to worry about so she just tended to throw caution to the wind. Besides, she thought herself pretty good at reading people, having spent a good chunk of her life as a servant (or more like slave, but servant sounded nicer) who had to keep quiet most of the time and just observe others. Fenris didn't seem anything but harmless, and even if she hadn't known him for that long, she already knew that she would like to get to know him. He fascinated her.

And she could certainly use a friend, someone who obviously wasn't bothered by her strange...condition.

"Oh, excellent!" Sirka said, and she had been ready to ask him if he really didn't mind that, just because she was polite and unused to company, but then she snapped to attention when Fenris suddenly grabbed her arm and carefully pulled. With a small squeak of surprise, she hopped down from the stool and was forced to follow swiftly after him, folding her wings tightly behind her so as not to hit them against any chairs or patrons. Oh wow, she hadn't thought he'd meant now, but she wasn't complaining! It was a pleasant surprise--if he could really pull it off. Luckily he didn't pull her arm off, too; the stitches held good!

And it was probably good to do it outside, too, so the tavern's customers weren't disturbed anymore than they likely already were.

In any case, Fenris certainly was a high energy sort of guy, and she couldn't get a word in edgewise before he stopped, took a step back, and announced he was going to heal her, and by that time Sirka was a little breathless--if amused. And even when Fenris finally did go quiet...well, Sirka couldn't have spoken a word even if she'd tried.

Because that was when his eyes began to glow, and the healing commenced. And...good Gods. He should have warned her that it would feel so good! It felt just like sewing herself up, only without the prick of a needle and with the addition of an even stranger feeling, that of bones shifting and fusing together, of tendons re-attaching, flesh meshing back together, organs arranging themselves properly. The stitches even came out of her skin, pushed right on out of her healing flesh, and the healing even extended to her wings. It was like her entire body was alive, and...it was a little overwhelming, since the healing did cover her entire body, every section that was scarred, and there was hardly a patch of skin that didn't have a scar of some sort. It didn't hurt, though. Not really pain, it just felt...well...she didn't even know! But her breath caught and her eyes widened, and entire focus narrowed in on that sensation for the duration of the healing.

All she knew was that by the time it was done, her whole body was trembling uncontrollably, and when Fenris stroked her repaired wings, she let her breath out in a whoosh and sank to her knees as her legs finally gave out. "Oh...my." Dazedly, she folded one wing toward her so she could look it over, lightly touching the feather-soft membrane, and then blinking when she glanced the odd patches of many colors, mixed in with the pink. Those were like Fenris' eyes. Suddenly she laughed, poking one of the patches. "Oh, they really are fantastic, Mister Fenris!" she said, finally regaining her voice and letting go of her wing so she could fan the pair out experimentally, flexing them. "I...I can't believe you were able to heal them...they're beautiful, even better than they were before!"

The effects of the healing wearing off, she shoved back one sleeve and looked over her arm, marvelling at how smooth her skin was, free of scars and stitches...and she probably would have lifted her dress and checked everywhere else if that wouldn't be horribly crude and, well, unladylike and all. But she could pull down her stockings and check her shins, and she could feel her ear which was now free of any knicks.

It really had worked...

Then she heard the rest of what Fenris was saying and, with a grin, she bounced to her feet, dusted off her dress, and promptly hugged him. It was then that it really sank in how tall he was, given she was only five foot two. "Heehee, okay, I'll try not to! Promise! I'll just stick to fingers!" she told him with a wink and a giggle, way too giddy now for her own good. But who could blame her? She'd been so ugly and damaged for so long, always covering up completely. Sure, a lot of it had been her own fault...but it was something of a compulsion. If she hadn't been killed to begin with, it would have never been a problem. "I'll take good care of everything now...well...for the most part, as good as I can take care of anything. Thank you so, so much..."

She pulled back then, and then tilted her head curiously. A knife that could cut and heal?

Ehehe...

"Oh...that would be really neat if you could do that," Sirka said, if a little bashfully. After all, she did still find it weird to discuss her condition openly! But such a knife would come in handy...

With an impish smile, she tilted her head to the other side. "Could I cut off my limbs with such a knife and then heal them back on with it?" she asked, half joking.

[Anonymous]

No, Fenris had no idea the extent of poor Sirka's disfigurements at this time. He assumed there was a lot of them though, but no so much to the fact that she had her organs in different spots and a very large scar down her front. He had expected something like that though, after all, pain was pleasure to her right? It was alright by him though because he could repair it and make it all better! Still, he wished that she wouldn't have so many scars on her, it meant she either got really bored or just really liked to cut herself up. There were a few beings out there he had encountered before, ones that had cut themselves because their magic was locked within their blood...those had been interesting people. They had been cut up numerously because of it. This was somewhat the same.

Fenris had said that, he had said he would be around to repair any damages she made. After all, he liked this strange little fae and her attitude. It was quite fantastic to meet people who didn't care that he was a little loopy. Though some of it was an act, and some of it was generally because of the chaos coursing through his body, she didn't seem to mind if he was overly eccentric and odd. She seemed to enjoy the fact that he was just a little bit crazy, which was fantastic! Damn he loved to use that word, and he couldn't remember why. It just had the right sort of kick to it. Heh. Fantastic!

He got to see just how far she had gone with this pain and pleasure thing. Her liver was squished between two kidneys, her little intestine wrapped around the pancreas, and he was pretty sure her bladder was underneath her lungs. Huh. That was just a little bit strange but it didn't matter. They would be healed by the greatness that was his magic! Thankfully magic knew just what went where because he had always been a little shaky on the whole anatomy thing. He could see that she was surprised though by the healing, that she actually liked it. He was keeping his focus, he could bug her about it a little later

For a moment when she fell to her knees he thought she passed out, but instead she was just inspecting the wings herself. Fenris had done a good job healing her inside and out, making her back to her original beauty. Not that Fenris didn't mind a few scars here and there on a woman, Fae women however needed to keep a certain level of beauty to them. Though he loved the wings the most, because now they had some fantastic colours to them.

He watched her as she went to inspect her arm, his own eyes having moved their line of sight outward so he could see if he had done a good job. Her arm seemed perfect now, devoid of any marks or stitching within. They seemed pretty smooth, but he wouldn't know just how smooth without touching them personally. Bah, they LOOKED smooth and that was good enough for him. Usually if it looks smooth than it is smooth. Yeah. That's how it went right?

He had been a little lost in his thoughts as suddenly something wrapped around his waist. It was Sirka hugging him! He was blinking a few times as he looked down to her, then blinked a couple times before a grin spread on his face. She was tiny! Then again, most people were tiny when you were almost seven feet tall. Almost.

"You better or else!" It wasn't really a threat to her, because he knew what she was going through at this time. Still, he knew he would need to give her something that she could heal herself with. This poor girl would probably end up looking exactly the same in a few months. That wouldn't work, not when he had healed her this great and she would go and ruin it all by cutting limbs off and the like. That knife would come in real handy.

"Hah! I could make it with both hands tied behind my back. I just need a knife of some sort and then I can enchant it!" He was thinking of a dirk perhaps. Something small and cute that she could carry concealed on her person. Maybe with a pink hilt like her hair! No...that would look sorta silly. Best to stick with a normal coloured dirk. Less fantastic but not as silly.

"Yep! I wouldn't recommend it cause I'm thinking of giving you a weapon meant for slicing instead of chopping and rigorous cutting. Slicing and stabbing is what the weapon would be used for...not full out cutting of limbs right off." it wouldn't matter though, he could make a weapon that heals each one! He would just have to design it in such a way that the healing enchantment isn't always on...or maybe make it on one side so when she cuts off a limb or finger and it goes right through...it simply heals it! Yes! That would be perfect wouldn't it?

"I'm scheming you up a knife right now, but we'll hafta wait till morning so we can look at the perfect dagger or knife for you." Yes, let her pick out the knife she wants, that would be much nicer he was sure. Then she couldn't complain about the knife because she picked it out!

[Rhindeer]

Sirka laughed at his threat, even if it wasn't a real threat. She took it as the joke it was but held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hehe, I promise, I promise! No tearing of the wings or cutting off limbs! I'll be good!" It was the truth, too. Well...she wouldn't mess with hr wings at least, that was for certain, especially since she felt thoroughly euphoric about them having been healed finally, after so long. She never had injured her wings ever, either. No, her wings, even when they were damaged, had always been treated with the utmost respect and care because not only could she fly with them, but the wings were also the source of a faerie's magic, or at least that was the case in the fae tribe she came from.

Nah, those had been damaged when she'd been killed and revived so she wouldn't be able to actually use her magic. She was just lucky that her wings hadn't been removed completely, otherwise all the magic would be gone from her. That was almost always lethal for a living fae. For a zombie fae, well...she'd be rotting and decomposing at the least. No, crippling the wings only kept the magic locked up inside her so she couldn't actually use it. And it had been centuries since she'd last used her magic. She wasn't really sure if she even remembered how to use it anymore. Probably, but she'd be rusty she bet.

But now all her magic was back, really back...if she'd had the capacity to cry, she probably would have right about now. Just from sheer joy. But she'd long since lost the ability to shed tears, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe a combination of both. It was an undead thing no doubt, just like she didn't need to eat, drink, or sleep.

"I bet ya could, too!" she agreed with a smile, fanning her wings out behind her idly to stretch them and just feel what the air felt like against them--instead of just going literally through them. "It should be really easy to find a knife here. Everyone has knives! I bet you could even find one in that tavern," she suggested, obviously liking that idea of his. It was a good idea after all, combining two things she liked! Pain of course, and a lack of scars. "Or turn a glass of whisky into one," she added with a playful wink. Well, if his magic didn't turn the glass into a daisy that danced a jig and smelled like apples, at least.

She mock pouted when Fenris said the knife he planned on giving her was for slicing and stabbing, not for cutting off limbs, but it was indeed just a mock pout and not serious. She didn't normally cut off her limbs unless she was just extremely bored or wanted to scare someone. She was small and she sure wasn't a fighter, not with her skinny limbs and lack of strength and experience in that regard. So when you weren't really able to physically defend yourself, what was the next best thing? Nonchalantly cutting off your own arm, maybe while inserting a genuine sound of enjoyment. Yeah. Some thugs had tried to kidnap her when she came to the mainland, so she just pulled that little number and sent them running like the wind, royally freaked out. Ah, it was a good defense. Kind of like when a lizard's tail came off as a defense against an enemy.

"Aww...well, I'll just have to make do then, now won't I? Heehee, it's okay, I don't cut off limbs all that much, honestly!" she said amusedly, shifting from one leg to the next. "That'll be just fine, though! Even that much is more than I could have asked for...and you've already done so much already, really. Even just healing my wings was more than enough. I can use my magic again! I couldn't do that when my wings were all broken and torn, but now they're all better thanks to you. My whole body, too..." Absently, she ran a hand over the cold skin of her arm, the sleeve pushed up and out of the way. "It feels so soft...ehehe, anyway! There's no hurry, but thank you very much!"

Sirka gave a little curtsey out of habit, then straightened and looked up at him musingly. "In the morning...? Oh! You really are planning on staying around me then, Mister Fenris?" She blinked a few times. Sure, he had said it, but she still hadn't been sure if he meant it. Now she knew. "Well then!" She clapped her hands once and then clasped them together. "Are we staying in this town? I'm afraid I don't really know the land or town. I have a map and some coin, though!"

It may not have looked like she was carrying anything on her, since she had no bags or satchels or anything on her person. But that was the point! Her coin purse was tucked away securely in the bodice of her dress, the coins packed tightly so they didn't jingle, and she had a few documents, such as the map, folded away within the folds of her dress. She was good at sewing, and she'd sewn a little hidden pocket inside it where she could safely keep things, such as her sewing kit as well. That ensured that no thieves could pick her pockets! She may not have been street smart in the least, but she had picked up on a few things, at least!

[Anonymous]

"Darn straight you'll be good!" He wagged a finger at her just because he could. He really didn't want her to rip those beautiful wings up, more so because they were infused with the power of Chaos. Ah. That was a grand thing he had done. Molding chaos into a form of membrane was just well it was just genius to say the least. He had no idea that the wings meant so much in the Fae culture though, he simply though they were prized because they were so beautiful...He could remember a time when the Drow of his world would keep Fae as respected 'guests' in their houses. The more Fae you were able to convince to stay, the more higher your family was in status.

Fenris eyed her for a moment, wondering just what she was thinking about at this time. Of course it would be hard to tell if Fenris was actually looking at you, the lack of pupils and the fact that his face was looking toward the sky was probably very misleading. Still, he grinned and looked down toward her when she spoke, his arms crossing over his chest as he raised an eyebrow. Stealing a knife eh? That sounded like an awful lot of work...

"Oh! You're right! I don't have any whiskey glasses on me though..." Well that idea went right down the drain didn't it? He'd have to think up something else to use now wouldn't he? Not now, perhaps later. Yes later would work out much better wouldn't it? Besides, he knew the moment he made the knife Sirka would want to try it out right away! Well, not to say HE wouldn't want to try it out right away, but still...that wasn't the point.

The curtsy made him grin and he clapped his hands together twice, then nodded at her answer. "Of course I'm going to stay! I need to make that knife after all and I do like travelling companions and stories, much better than talking to rocks and flasks. All the flasks I have already heard my best stories anyways." He told her with a wink. A map? She had a map? He didn't have a map. He didn't...NEED a map. Coin either. Well he had coins on him but he didn't need them. He drank and ate because things were delicious, not because he needed to. Sustenance was for creatures that weren't made of Chaos energy after all.

"Map? No no no! I don't follow a map. I go like this!" Then he took a few steps back from her and started to spin around in a circle. After about a minute of spinning he shot his arm out and promptly opened his eyes, falling backwards onto his rear. His hand was still pointing of course, and he grinned. Northish? No...this was was going toward a desert....Alright! The desert they would go then!

"Maybe you could look at your map though and just...whoa...dizzy..." Fenris fell onto his back giggling, looking up at the stars with a grin on his face still. "If there's um...like...towns or something in the desert...I don't want to make a trek through the desert for nothing..." With a quick movement Fenris was on his feet, dusting his clothes off and checking to make sure he was alright. Yep! He was! Oh! And he had an idea on what to turn into a weapon for Sirka!

"I may not have a whiskey glass on me, but I got a shoe!" Then, turning about with his back to her, he kicked his reed sandal off. The large footwear soared through the air gracefully in a rather large ark. Fenris was watching it carefully, his hand outstretched slightly.

"Shalakazam!" A small ray of multicoloured light slammed into the poor shoe, which promptly changed from a shoe, to a dirk. It was apparent that Fenris actually managed to create what he wanted, and even he looked mildly surprised. The dirk slammed into the ground needle point first, sticking straight up and down. Fenris quickly ran to it, oddly enough he still had two sandals on his feet. It probably wasn't a good idea to ask how he managed to kick his shoe off but still keep both shoes...the logic of it all might make mind collapse in on itself.

Scooping the dirk up from the ground, Fenris inspected it. Mm, it wasn't a foot long but it was close, the cold steel blade met with a black and crimson spiral hilt of obsidian, ending in a small ruby pommel, perfectly shaped. Fenris still was grinning as he inspected it carefully, turning about to show Sirka proudly.

"See what I made! It's all for you! Oop! Hold on though. It needs to be enchanted!" Then Fenris did something that probably Sirka couldn't even predict. He slammed the dirk into his stomach, the sharp point cleanly cutting through his skin. What escaped from the wound was not blood, but light, the same light from his eyes that is. The dirk disappeared into the wound, which stayed open for the time being. Fenris was giggling as he moved a finger around the wound, the dagger now completely enveloped into his stomach. The wound of course was healing rapidly, and in a second or two it was completely healed, even his clothes healed themselves.

"Ahhh. Good good. Tastes a little...dirty though. Mm no matter!" Then Fenris gave a small burp, covering his mouth politely as he blushed slightly. "Oh pardon me. I don't think it's agreeing with me." Fenris tilted his head back and opened his mouth as wide as it could go, two fingers reaching into his mouth. Then, like a sword slipping from a scabbard he pulled the dirk from his mouth suddenly, just like a sword swallower might. The once ruby pommel now glowed just like his eyes did, swirling withing the strange gemstone now. Perfect!

"There, all done! Give it a try! The side that's grey is the side that cuts, and the side that...well..." He showed her that one side of the dirk glowed slightly, seeming to have some sort of light locked within it. "That's the side that heals! This dagger is fantastic!" Fenris was damn proud of just how  much he had done in so little time. Already he had healed this girl, turned a whiskey glass into a needle and thread, made his shoe into a dirk, AND even managed to make the dirk magically enchanted to heal her. Yeah. He was going to celebrate tonight! The dirk was now held out toward Sirka as he approached her, hoping she would take it and use it for the first time.

[Rhindeer]

Hmm...he was right, he didn't...but there were more glasses in the tavern! They could always go back inside and grab one! That would work, right? The bartender might not appreciate that and people might be confused after having seen her walk out with shredded wings and walking back in with new, shiny ones, but...hee! She kind of wanted to go back inside just so people could see her wings! Her wings had been beautiful before they'd been destroyed, but now they were gorgeous. Or at least she thought they were! Goodness, she just didn't think she'd be able to thank him enough for what he'd done...

It didn't look like she'd get a chance to, either! Fenris certain was hyper, that was for certain, and Sirka could only cover her mouth and giggle at him. He really did like talking to inanimate objects, didn't he? Not that she found that strange. "Oh, and I hear rocks are terrible conversationalists, too!" she chimed in with a wink of her own, then smiled and folded her hands behind her back, her wings also folding, and her smile only brightened. So he would be staying! Excellent! She wouldn't have to be alone, then, and it really was terribly boring to wander around with no one to chat with! And she certainly did love stories. "You know, you'll be my first travelling companion, Mister Fenris," she told him, tilting her head and kicking at the ground idly. "Flasks may like hearing stories, but unlike them, I don't just listen! I have a lot of stories, too. We can swap stor--oh!"

That was about when Fenris started spinning around, demonstrating how he got by without maps, and Sirka laughed again when he fell over onto his bottom so gracefully, an arm pointing. Blinking a few times, she turned and followed his pointing hand with her eyes, but all she saw were buildings and the surrounding landscape. She had no idea that, out in the distance...he was pointing at the desert.

She turned back around when she heard him flop over onto his back and start giggling, and she just shook her head and leaned over him. "Hee, be careful, don't make yourself sick, silly..." Straightening, she planted her hands on her hips, then glanced down at him curiously. "Desert...?" Oh, she though she'd seen a desert on that map. But why was he talking about the desert? She was about to ask him about that, but then he was suddenly back on his feet and she jumped in surprise. Oop! Too late for questions! He'd already switched gears completely and--a shoe?

Well, she soon found out what he was talking about. Just like that, he kicked off his shoe and...turned it into a knife, which he raced over to retrieve and...wait...hey, hadn't he just kicked off his shoe? Sirka found herself blinking rapidly and then squinting, as though trying to clear her vision, but...nope! Two sandals were on his feet. Even as he turned around and showed her the dagger he'd created, she was still trying to figure that one out.

At least, she was until Fenris did what to Sirka was the unthinkable.

He suddenly stabbed himself in the stomach with it. Just like that.

Both hands flew up to Sirka's mouth, cutting her small scream short, and her pink eyes were wide with absolute horror. While that kind of thing was alright for her, it was because she was dead! But that didn't mean she was okay with that happening to someone else, especially someone who seemed very alive! Sure, he said he was basically a demi-god, but demi-gods could die! They weren't like gods. Of course, it didn't initially occur to her that he probably wouldn't do something like that if he would die...all she knew was he'd stabbed himself and it had taken her off guard.

Her hands were still pressed to her mouth, afraid of what sounds might leave it if she pulled them away, and she was still staring at him as his wound glowed brightly. It was only when Fenris began to giggle, the dirk vanished, and the wound healed that she began to relax again, though she still didn't move. Oh...my...if she had been alive still, he might have given her a heart attack.

Finally and slowly, she started to lower her hands and instead of horror, she watched him with fascination and amusement, even murmuring a, "You're excused," when he burped. After that, she could only watch in awe as he tilted his head back, opened his mouth...and pulled the dirk from his mouth before presenting it to her.

Well, by that time, the momentary scariness of it all had worn off and Sirka actually found herself applauding, as though she'd just seen a performance. It had kind of been like watching a sword swallower! Only...in reverse?

"Oh, wow...that was very good, Mister Fenris! You scared me there for a second, but...wow, I've never seen anyone do that in reverse!" she told him as she took the dirk from him, nodding at his explanation. Oh dear, he wasn't even giving her a chance to recover from that! But, no matter. He was all excited and who was she to argue? She was just as eager as he was to try it out! It kind of made sense, too...what better way to enchant a healing dagger than to, well...stab yourself in the stomach with it? It had healed his stomach after all! Or at least that's what it looked like.

"Okay, okay, testing it out now, hold your horses, silly," she said with a laugh ad a shake of her head. Well, best not to keep him waiting then!

Nonchalantly, she turned her hand over palm side up and, without skipping a beat, she pressed the blade to her palm and let the blade slice through the soft skin there, blood welling up in the new wound and trickling along the lines of her hand, an acute shiver running through her. Indeed, animated corpse or not, she still bled! Or at least new wounds did. Sirka winced a little as she did it, finally drawing the knife away and just staring at the deep cut in her hand as though fascinated, which she was. The wound throbbed and stung, but it was an exquisite sort of pain and just...well, it felt wonderful. Maybe that's why pain felt good in death. Because it made her feel alive. Hm. That was a weird thought. When you were alive pain felt horrible so you would avoid dangerous things and stay alive, so maybe everything just got flipped around now? It kind of made sense! When you were alive, pain made you feel dead, so when you were dead, it made you feel alive!

But then, after a moment of staring, she remembered the whole healing thing. Oops! Quickly turning the blade over, she drew the glowing side over the wound slowly and...then shivered again when she felt the flesh closing up, knitting back together seamlessly and leaving behind only the cold blood. Ew. Too bad it didn't suck that stuff back inside. Clicking her tongue and wrinkling her nose a little, she held the dirk between the still clean fingers of her once-injured hand and fished around in the folds of her skirt with her clean hand until she finally located the sewn in pocket, from which she withdrew a handkerchief, which she used to clean her hand off with. It was odd. Her heart no longer beat so she really had no idea why she bled, why the blood didn't coagulate. Probably another undead thing. Because if the blood did that, she'd be...incredibly stiff. It would probably be hard to move...

In any case, with the blood all cleaned up, it was obvious that, well...the wound was gone and there wasn't even a scar left behind, even as she held her hand close to her face and inspected it. "Wow...it...it really is fantastic, Mister Fenris..." she murmured, letting her arm drop back to her side before looking at the blade itself, turning it over in her hand. Then she looked up at him and beamed up at him. "It's really beautiful, too...you did a fantastic job, thank you so much!"

[Anonymous]

Hm, it would really confuse people in the tavern if they saw Sirka once more with her wings restored. Hah! As if he cared what they would think about that though! He was Fenris, he cared not for the opinions of people! That's...no doubt why he acted the way he did...cause he didn't care about what a person thought about him! They couldn't judge him! Well...they COULD judge him but...he liked to pretend that they didn't.

Fenris wasn't sure why that Sirka didn't find him strange and weird. Most people did but Sirka didn't. Sirka accepted him, with all of his little quirks and eccentricites. It was...well it was so nice to know that he was accepted by someone. Not to mention that she wasn't just as strange as him of course. A pain loving Undead creature like herself, it wasn't hard to see why she liked him. "Remember, I be just Fenris, not Mister Fenris! Though Mister Fenris has an awesome ring to it!" He commented to her, grinning at her playfully as he usually did.

"Gods can't get sick...Urp...I ain't a God." Fenris had his own way of travelling really...he went where he could go. Plain and simple really. If he wasn't accepted somewhere, he wouldn't go there, he would just...move on. It wasn't often a culture said no to Fenris though. Everyone found him intriguing...then annoying...then they just...stopped paying much attention to him and he would move on. However, where he went in the first place was a different matter altogether! He hated maps because Maps told him where he could go, and he didn't like to know such things.

Yes, the two sandals thing has been such a good touch he believed! I mean, it was really impossible, and it wasn't good to think about. He was just strange, and he was very impossible to understand. He still wondered how he did it though...after all, he had two sandals on after kicking one off and well...it just couldn't be possible. Ah, the next thing was going to really get her attention.

It had too. It had really gotten her attention, all of it, onto him, which made him proud. All eyes on him! All two of them as it were! That was still good enough for him though. The dagger had actually been enchanted INSIDE him. Since Fenris was just a husk with Chaos Energy within him, so the Dirk was warped and enchanted within his body. It was technical and complicated and it was just how Fenris wanted to do it, because he was a lot sillier that way. He couldn't wait to see what would happen when she used the knife on herself! Hm, that was an odd thought wasn't it?

He watched her carefully, watched her entire being actually. He watched as she slowly drew the blade across her skin, the blood welling up, and even her shivering. Oh yes, he did so like to see her shiver like that. He wondered how it felt...because he was never sure what actual pain felt like. Pain to him was...well he had no idea. Still...she seemed to love pain, and he at least knew how to deal that out! After all, he had gotten into quite a few fights in his time, and he did have an intricate knowledge of anatomy because of his consciousness which was part of a God's...Hm. Fenris had no idea what exactly he received from the God of Chaos on Heiroth, how much knowledge had been imparted to him...

"It worked! Hah hah! Looks great!" Fenris did a little dance in celebration as she complimented it and he grinned at her again. "Aw, it t'wasn't nothin'" He said shyly, that grin turning to a litlte bit of a friendly smile.

"And here I thought that you had better grammar than that." It was a strange voice that filled his ears. Strange in the sense that it was familiar, soft, soothing, and oh so peaceful. Fenris whirled about to face the voice, only to fall upon his knees and cry out in gentle surprise. Standing behind him, was a strange, almost small looking fellow. It was the oddest to see really, for he was dressed quite strangely. Wearing a white silk blindfold around his eyes, short blond hair still managing to fall upon the silken layer of cloth. He wore a doublet of similar design, creeping golden ivy threading on both items, moving along and shimmering with an unnatural light. However his pants were just a golden colour instead. The soft white and gold booties upon his feet were the oddest thing of all.

"My...Lord Vec...Imsohappytoseeyou!" Suddenly Fenris rushed the man, embracing him quickly, though the gentle faced man didn't seem to flinch, only to smile upon his pale red lips. The man patted Fenris awkwardly on the back before Fenris finally let go. It was...well it was interesting to see Fenris give so much respect to the man.

"It is good to see you Fenris. You haven't returned to us in such a long time. We were getting worried." Vec spoke, his voice stayed warm and calm as he talked to the tall avatar.

"Well, will you not introduce me to this young lady you seem to have attached yourself to?" Vec asked as he turned his blindfolded gaze to Sirka with that smile of his that he just seemed to have. Fenris blinked several times before brightening up and looking toward Sirka and grinning. Right! Sirka was still here wasn't she! Fenris had almost forgotten about her. Almost.

"Oh! Right! Well Father, this is Sirka. She's an undead Fae! See her pretty wings and skin! I made them beautiful! She was beautiful already but I made her back to her fae beauty! Mmmhmm! Aren't you proud?" Fenris was like a little child looking for acceptance and trying to be obedient. Vec just smiled at Fenris and nodded, patting the man on the side. Vec seemed to know how to handle the strange man it seemed.

"Sirka, it is a pleasure to meet you." Vec bowed to her, straightening up afterwards to address her properly. "I am Vec Lanrete, God of Nothing in the Realm of Heiroth. Immortal of Nothing in your realm." Vec introduced himself to her as he kept his eyes upon the girl. Interesting indeed...Fenris had found himself a travelling companion then had he? That was most pleasing to see, that Fenris could get a long with someone so well. A female none the less, which was just a little stranger to say the least. Vec watched her carefully before a small chuckle issued from his lips.

[Rhindeer]

Sirka couldn't help but giggle at Fenris' little celebratory dance, the way he seemed just so proud of himself. It was really pretty funny and even cute, especially considering who exactly he was! He could probably do anything, yet such a seemingly simple feat--well, for someone like him she was guessing--had made him so giddy. Even...shy? That was probably the most surprising of all, but Sirka just smiled back at him.

That was about all she could do before a new voice suddenly answered, a soft and peaceful one that she certainly didn't realize, but it wasn't the gentle voice that made her start in surprise. It was Fenris' reaction that got her attention as he whirled quickly about and dropped to his knees, and Sirka could only gaze calmly, but confusedly, at the man she saw when she finally raised her eyes up from Fenris. They...obviously knew each other? Sirka folded her hands in front of her and stood back quietly, quite used to holding her tongue until appropriate, and right now it didn't seem like it would be a good time to interrupt. She was curious of course by who this newcomer was, but she was also patient and knew that these sorts of answers usually popped up on their own. In any case, she could tell by his dress alone that he was someone of importance, never mind how Fenris was reacting to him! How Fenris was acting...that was what was the most astonishing. After all, the man was connected to a God and extremely powerful himself for all his silliness.

She didn't curtsey or anything, though. She wouldn't until she was introduced.

Lord Vec...so...he was a lord of some sort? The thought was put on hold, though, when Fenris suddenly rushed the man, Vec, and actually hugged him. Vec didn't seem to mind too much, though; obviously the two were close. Still, it was interesting to see, and Sirka idly found herself wondering if the man was really blind. He didn't have a walking stick with him, though, but that blindfold...if he wasn't blind, surely that made him unable to see? Unless it was magic. Hmm...there were strange things out there.

Then, just like that, the attention was suddenly brought around and placed onto her, snapping her abruptly from her quiet, watchful state. Sirka perked up as Fenris introduced her, smiling as she looked from Fenris to Vec and then outright blushing in sheer surprise when Fenris went on to basically shower her with compliments. Oh my! Now, she was no blushing maiden or anything, she hadn't been since she was still actually living so many centuries ago, but compliments and outright calling her beautiful weren't something she was used to receiving! Not in Necromantia where everything was dead and decaying, and not when she was used to being looked upon as...well...just an undead slave. And the undead, to most people at least, weren't considered attractive. There were some lords and ladies out there with strange tendencies, but...ahem. No, in Necromantia, beauty just wasn't really taken into account or considered important in such a grim culture. It was simply fleeting and temporary and likely to wither quickly especially with all the Necromantic magics in that country.

But even if she wasn't used to it...she did like it. There had been years before the Necromancers had taken over the isles when she'd known what it was like to feel pretty as opposed to just...so much ugliness.

"Oh...my. Hee. Yes, he really did do all that, all today in the last few hours, no less," Sirka agreed with a smile, swaying slightly back and forth, wings flexing lightly, and glancing over to Fenris briefly. He really did seem so eager, like he just wanted to please the man...who he called father? Sirka blinked a few times. That was his father? Then...what must that make his father?

That would be explained soon enough.

"Well met, m'lord Vec! Like Fenris there said, I'm Sirka. Just Sirka!" Sirka chimed back in greeting, curtseying low in respect and spreading her skirts wide before straightening back to her full, impressive height of five foot one. This Vec was of course way taller than her, but she didn't quite have to strain her neck as much as she did with Fenris at least! And then Vec really introduced himself. As a God. Or, at least, a God in his realm, but as a mere immortal in this one.

A lot of people might have looked at Vec as though he were nuts if he told them that, but Sirka only gave a nod of understanding, still looking cheerful as ever. Ah, it did pay to be old. It also paid, she supposed, to be a spiritual creature in a fleshy shell, as many fae were. Some were just more fleshy or more spiritual than others.

"Well, it's certainly a pleasure to meet an actual God face to face!" she said with a wink, planting one hand on her hip and still holding the dagger Fenris had given her in the other hand. "Even if you're just an immortal here. It really is an honor, m'lord. Though I suppose I've already technically met one, if indirectly, with Mist--with Fenris over here. I'm really lucky to have met him, too, he's really done a lot for me today without me even asking in the first place. He's done a brilliantly magnificent job, I really was a complete mess before he found me, literally falling apart!" she said with a firm nod and a light laugh, still staring up at the man.

Poor Fenris. He really seemed like he wanted attention and acceptance from Vec. Sirka didn't think it would hurt then to tell the honest truth and really give him some credit!

[Anonymous]

Fenris cared little for what he did. As long as he enjoyed himself, he would act as he pleased. Dancing pleased him, juggling pleased him, story telling pleased him, well, everything really pleased him. After all, when you were an Avatar like he was, and at the same time, made of chaos, most simple feats of magic were something to celebrate with. Complex ones that actually went right were the proudest things to do. He wasn't a God now, he couldn't will things into being, he had to create, and hopefully create correctly.

Fenris was the last child to be created by Vec, well, the last God to be created by Vec, and so, he was like the baby of the group, always looking up to his father. Being so young still, he looked up to his father, still forgetting that in Heiroth, his real father was technically Fenris, the actual Chaos Deity. Vec could only smile at his excited and hug loving Avatar of a son. When Fenris finally let go he was able to readjust his blindfold and straighten his ruffled clothes out. It was true that Vec didn't always look the part of a Blind man, because he wasn't really blind. His eyes were covered by silk to protect people from them.

All the while though, he could see something odd about the woman. She was quiet, withdrawn in a way, as if she fancied herself invisible for the time being. Mild mannered, or just very mannered? Maybe she would be able to teach Fenris a thing or two about manners and sharing....yeah right.

Vec noted that when the compliments started flying, Sirka seemed almost bashful, embarrassed in such a way. It was endearing, cute as some would say. Fenris probably didn't even realize what it was that he was doing at this time, just speaking his mind for that matter. That was something Fenris was rather famous for, his unaware mouth. A curse and a blessing at the same time, if something popped into his head, he would blurt it out and try to make sense of it later, or never in some cases. Vec had remembered a few times when he had lengthy discussions with Fenris, only to have Fenris not even remember the entire week the conversation had been held. Quite troublesome but also rather adorable.

Vec examined Sirka's wings from here, well, in a way. His vision had been placed near the girl, and he was examining her wings carefully. Interesting. A chaos memberane infused into the real membrane. Fenris had learnt a few tricks hadn't he? Well, it was always a proud moment to learn that his son really had been able to adapt and change and educate himself. Vec always did love the Fae a little more than most races, they were at least polite and believed more when someone said they were a God.

"Aw, Sirka is just being nice. I was just doing like you told me Father! Be nice and help people, all that sorta stuff!" Fenris was trying to deny the compliments paid upon him, not really used to people complimenting his work. He usually got in trouble for what he did.

"Do not be so hard on yourself my son. You did a wonderful job, truly. I am quite proud to see you living up to your ideals." It didn't hurt to reassure poor Fenris that his work was good. You just had to reinforce it a few times. "Please Sirka, I prefer to be called just Vec. M'lord sounds so...overbearing. I am not your lord after all, you are free now. You never have to call someone that again." Fenris blinked several times as he looked down to his father, and then to Sirka. What the heck had that meant? If it meant what he thought it had meant, than it meant that she had been a slave. Oh he hated slavery! It was such an improper, mean, and malicious thing to do to someone. Keep them against their will like that. It was a disgrace really, however, Fenris was glad that she was free of such bondage.

"Father sees stuff sometimes. Like the future and the past. Oh! Father! Tell me what you see right now!" Fenris clapped his hands excitedly as he sat down on the ground suddenly, watching Vec with keen interest. Even sitting Fenris was almost their height. Vec sighed and nodded his head once. His son wouldn't stop bugging him until he did.

"I see a blond woman tied to a stake as men and women chant and shout. The sun rises high, and a fire starts at her feet, she cries and screams, but it falls on deaf ears. A light blinds them, and a man with Judgement in his eyes appears, breaking her free and escaping while the light distracts them. I see a happy ending though, a realization, and, finally, acceptance." Vec's words made no sense to Fenris, well...there was one sentence that made sense to him.

"Nexus! Nexus is where!?" Judgement in his eyes is probably what tipped him off. After all, Vec only saw futures for the people of Heiroth, which meant that Nexus had to be here. Vec smiled as he patted his son on the shoulder and shrugged his shoulders softly.

"That is not something you need to worry about Fenris. I am going to visit Nexus and guide him. You must stay with Sirka. After all, you could use a friend like her in such a realm as this." Vec wondered just how she managed to put up with Fenris. Probably because they were both strange and silly in their own ways. Yes. That sounded about right.

[Rhindeer]

"I'm not being nice, I'm being perfectly honest. Which is also being nice in the process," Sirka told Fenris, her smile growing just a little as he tried to downplay what he'd done. My, he certainly was like another person before his father, this Vec. Whereas before he came across as confident, carefree, and attention-loving it now seemed as though he was...well...kind of shy and humble. It was really interesting to note the change in his behavior. He really did look up to Vec...and she smiled all the more when Vec reassured him. Fenris was certainly deserving of the compliments as far as she was concerned; she certainly wasn't used to such kindness.

She was mildly surprised when Vec told her to just call him by his name without any titles attached, but she nodded nonetheless and found herself respecting him all the more for that. A God without ego...now that was something. The tribe she came from was more animistic than anything, though they did believe in the existence of Gods of course, but they just never really paid them much attention. They respected them of course, but they never felt a need to worship them. The Necromancers, however, had their Death Goddess and, well...maybe Entropis didn't have an ego, but the Necromancers sure did.

"Just Vec it is, then," Sirka agreed with a nod, though the urge to attach a title to his name was still there. She was just so used to that. What he said after that, however, was far more unexpected and she looked up at him in surprise, pink eyes unblinking. She...she was free now? Really? If anyone else had told her that, she might not have believed them. A Necromancer had resurrected her and made her into what she was, and there was a bond there, a bond that was passed down through the generations. At least, that was what she had always been told...and that was why she had been wandering around, seeking a mage she'd heard of that could perhaps sever the bond. Yet...perhaps it already had been severed? Maybe the bond only worked in Necromantia where the necromantic magic was so influential but didn't apply here to the mainland where such magic was rare? That would make sense...or maybe the whole thing was just pure superstition to begin with.

In any case, she felt herself trusting Vec's word and the confidence in which he said that. Besides, he was a former God. And even if she'd never worshipped a God in her life, she knew good and well that respect was due to them, and that they were wise, ancient entities that knew far more than any other immortal could possibly hope to know. Once again, the urge to curtsey humbly or call him by a title rose, but she repressed it and instead just nodded once, her smile one of greatest relief. "Thank you, Vec." Those words were music to her ears, for sure.

She was free.

Fenris snapped her from her thoughts and she blinked over at him--or rather, up at him--as he seemed to explain. OH! So maybe that's how he knew? He'd seen something that had to do with her, something in her future or past or both? Well, that made sense, and it comforted her even more to know that. However, as Fenris asked Vec to share what he saw right then, Sirka looked at him curiously, genuinely interested, though unlike Fenris she remained standing--the tall man was still nearly her height sitting, so there was no need! In any case, she'd met some people in her lifetime who claimed to have the ability to do that, but most of them had turned out to be frauds.

Vec's words also made no sense to her, but she found his pronouncement kind of...eerie, and it drew a slight shudder from her. Poor woman, though thank goodness whatever Vec saw had a happy ending apparently. It seemed like such a random vision, though...Sirka knew she didn't know any blonde women, not currently at least, and back in Necromantia they didn't burn people at the stake--though they did have some execution methods that were just as grisly, if not worse. And a man with Judgment in his eyes? That also made no sense, and she found herself wondering if that vision had anything to do with them.

Fenris, at least, seemed to understand some of it. And he seemed excited about it, too...whoever this Nexus was.

One thing was for certain...Sirka was confused. It was always a little awkward when two people were talking about something that you had no clue about. Oh well! She would ask later just so she felt more...in the know.

"Fenris isn't the only one that could use a friend. I'd be really honored if you did stay, Fenris," Sirka told him sincerely, echoing Vec before she could help it. "You're not the only one new to this place and...I would like to be your friend if you'd have me." Ah...she didn't even hardly know him, having only known him for the day, but...it was enough time for her to conclude that she wanted to know him more. He had been the first person in a long while to show her kindness, and she was fascinated by him. And amused by him. Someone else might have been annoyed with him and his antics, with his short attention span and tendency to change his train of thought right in the middle of a thought, but all that served to do was keep Sirka's attention. He was strange...

But so was she. And perhaps it was also just in her blood. She was a fae, and fae were pretty eccentric themselves, loving flashiness and anything unconventional.

And then, just because she couldn't help it and the curiosity was starting to gnaw at her, she looked back and forth between Vec and Fenris. "Who's Nexus? Is it a friend of yours?"