Death is the Mother of Beauty [Marceline Anicetus]

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 1,071   |  NOTES: ...

Job Description:

Her combat boots thumped against the ground as she walked the decimated streets of Shirotsume after the raid on it. Bodies lay strewn across the sidewalks and roads, blood coating the stone and staining it a dark red against shades of grey. Blood splashed up from where she stepped in puddles, staining the ashen-grey skin of the servant of Death. Dots of it speckled her legs like polka dot tights covering her skin, decorating it with the mass destruction of a town. A smirk played across her luscious lips and red eyes, cracked with black down the cheeks, darted across the surroundings. Stray people ran in her wake, taking quick glances toward her before bolting down alleys to hide from her wickedness. Laughter filled the death-drenched air, breaking the silence that echoed through it and bringing out the sound of ill wretchedness.

Fiery dots caught sight of a person sprinting across the street not that far out from where she was walking the streets. Blades glinted in the brilliance of the sunlight, as if in slow motion, wrapping around the woman who was running. The woman screamed from both surprise and pain, as the blades hooked into her skin and ripped at it the moment Marceline pulled the whip back. She was spun around, blood spilling out into the space around her and she fell to the ground, unconscious from the grievous wounds. Marcy did not stop in her walking and when she reached the woman, this was where she paused to look down at her. A boot came up and harshly slammed onto the lady's head, crushing the skull, splattering brains and blood over the road. As sick as it was, the grin never left those pale lips when the Shirotsume resident was slaughtered before her eyes.

Marcy glanced upward, once again running her gaze over the genocide that had been created here in Savage Skull's name. Upon looking over what had been broken and massacred, she noticed that a single building still stood tall and proud. The simper on her face was replaced with a scowl, her face distorted in a look of disgust at a mansion of all things existing on the premises. Her boot slammed back onto the ground and she started walking toward the mansion instead, the whip scraping against the stone. When another person dashed away from her, the same thing happened to them as the lady she had recently killed. It came up into the air and snagged around the man's neck, hauling him to the ground and yanking him toward her. A loud snap could be heard as the neck of the man was broken, then a tearing sound followed after as the head was ripped off.

Fist pulled close to her sides, the Savage Skull Coming Storm built up death energy into the palms of her hands. Sparks of the energy flew off the orbs as they grew in size in her hands; when she placed them together, the energy let off in streams. Three streams flew out from the amassed orb and into the body of the two she had killed and one that had been slaughtered by the onslaught of falling debris. The bodies rose on their own, standing to their feet as if they had simply woken from their slumber they had fallen to. Once again, that laughter filled the air, her face contorting into a sicken look of happiness as those who had died rose to life. They ambled toward her slowly as the energy finished off and absorbed into their bodies, in which she began walking. "The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends and where the other begins?" she called out.

Where she walked, the world crumbled around her, her "pets" the only things that did not injure at her touch. Ramakrishna ran and spun at her side, yipping to gain her attention, though quickly stopped and bounded forward. He charged off into the grounds of the mansion as they approached it, chasing after squirrels and rabbits, tearing into their flesh. Bursts of shadow spilled off from his body as he attacked them and swallowed them in a matter of seconds. Marcy sauntered up to the doors of the mansion and with a single touch of her hand, the doors crumbled into dust. "Ding dong!" she shouted out her presence, laughing as she did so, "I know you can hear me, open up the door, I only wanna play a little. Oops, I guess the door is already open, I guess I can just walk right on in and make myself at home, don't you say?"

The building was awfully quiet, enough so that it made Marceline wonder if the place was vacant or occupied. No one had responded to her caterwauling, perhaps they were hidden in a safe room somewhere in the house? First step into the house and the floor began to creak and crack with each step that followed after the starting one. Wood crumbled to dust, glass shattered and broke, spraying across the ground as that, too, turned to ash. "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection into the eternal life. . ." Tendrils of her magic ate at the walls and disintegrated what the mansion was made of, slowly crushing it into nothing. "Life asked Death, 'Why do people love me, but hate you?', and Death responded with, 'Because you are a beautiful lie and I'm a painful truth'. . ."

Footsteps below her could be heard, but she paid no mind to them as she wove her way through the home. It was only when she caught sight of a slender figure that her entire being slowed down and became silent. She sneaked close to the opening, and with a flash of her whip, the blades cut deep into the skin of the nobleman and dragged him toward her. The man cried out in fear and pain and that grin appeared on her face, where she wrapped her snake-like hands on his arms. Skin began to peel away on him and she hugged him close, petting his hair that fell from his head in seconds. "My new little toy," she purred out, covering his mouth with her own lips and pulling him along the hallway to the outdoors.

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 1,007   |  NOTES: ...

They parted lips and Marceline smiled sweetly at the Nobleman gripped tightly in her whip, unable to free himself. "Well, aren't you just the handsomest of things?" she inquired in a soft voice, looking at the horrendously decayed face of the noble. "Unfortunately, I don't think you're going to make it back to the buyers who I sold you for already; isn't that a pity? I suppose it saves you from the horribleness of what would be to ensue, so perhaps, I should have a bit of my own fun?" It was true, he would not last much longer in the grasp of her magic, considering how decomposed he had come to look. Marcy leaned forward again, pressing her lips to his and pulling him around the corner, down to the room that led out. Voices could be heard chattering to each other in the distance, muffled. . . maybe not so much that they were far away.

"Release my charge!" a woman's voice ordered, causing Marceline to stop in her tracks and look to the overnight maid, ending their kiss.

"How fortunate for you to come around," she responded, a grin spreading across her lascivious lips. "I wouldn't step any closer, I'd hate for you to feel the wrath of Death when you get in his way of orders." Her beady eyes watched the woman with intensity, as if daring her to come closer before she flared out her aura. Too late. A burst of death energy ruptured outward from where Marcy stood, rushing toward the maid and overcoming her.

She cried out in pain as the magic embraced the life force letting her live, sucking away what energy she had in her. "You, who carries the essence of Death! Prepare to die!" she yowled out, charging toward Marceline, despite having just been injured.

In response to the maid's abrasiveness, the young woman only laughed and raised a hand, ordering the zombies, which had followed her inside, to attack. They ran toward the housekeeper, the headless one reaching its arms out and wrapping around her to hold her still. The second one, with the flattened head that flopped around at each movement, nearly did the same, but tore at her skin. Whereas, the third one had bitten down on the chambermaid's neck, ripping and tearing at the flesh and spilling blood everywhere. Marcy only chuckled at the destructiveness of her "pets," watching as they killed off the maid with ease of overwhelming her. She smirked, then returned to what she had been doing with the nobleman, who, try as he may, was still trapped in her whip. "Isn't it sad to watch as your entirely family dies before your eyes? You know, I still want a little bit of time with you. . ."

However, the commotion of the domestic being murdered by zombies had caused one of the overnight butlers to get curious. He had peeked around the corner and spotted the bloody decimation of one of his coworkers, going white in the face. She had felt the presence of another being and looked in the man's direction, a frown replacing the smile on her lips. "Lovelies, when you're - no, never mind - I will just do it, myself," she spoke, raising a hand and swinging it from left to right. A sacrificial dagger had been summoned in her hand, and leaving the nobleman where he was, she let out a battle cry and charged the butler. His first line of defense was a plate, holding it up in front of his face to protect himself from the attack, but the dagger simply went through. Marcy let out a growl and jumped back, swinging her wrist to the right and striking the blade across his chest.

She bounced back again and threw the dagger at the butler, impaling him in the stomach with it, though he fought through the pain. Grabbing hold of a lamp stand close to where they were, the man managed to club her over the head, though she grabbed it with her hand. The lamppost began to decay in her grasp and she smiled wickedly at the butler, ripping it from his own hands. With this now in her paws, the woman flipped it around and whacked the man over the head, then blasted a bullet of death energy into his skull. As the lamp disintegrated into ash, the woman blew at her fingertip, as if smoke had billowed off of it. Marceline returned to her kidnapped's side and grabbed up the whip's handle in her hand and dragged him off with her. "Your household should really learn that if they're going to get involved with the likes of me, Death will always be the end."

Marcy giggled and pulled him along, though a few grumbling complaints came from the tattered lips of the noble. "What was that?" she asked, tilting her head a little as she looked back to the man trapped casually in her weapon. When no response came from the man, she nodded and continued pulling him along through the mansion of a home. Yet as she was dragging him along, footsteps pounded along the ground and voices could be heard calling to each other. Perhaps, she had been found out now; maybe now would be the time to start running. . . no, that would be cowardice. "Come on, you little fucks! If you think you can beat the likes of me, then you better rethink what you have thought! Death always wins the battle between Life and Death! No escapes the wrath of my master. . . or myself for that matter!"

Marceline cackled at her words and spun around on her heels to face where the footsteps were coming from. She yanked her whip and wrapped her arms around the nobleman, holding him close with the sacrificial dagger held at his throat. "Come any closer to me and I'll make sure that your beloved, little charge isn't around anymore for you to care for."

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 1,002   |  NOTES: ...

Two more overnight butlers had arrived on the scene, stepping over the fallen bodies of their comrades as if they were not there. Marceline held the sacrificial dagger's blade to the throat of her victim, pressed hard against the decaying skin. Blood trickled down the front of his neck when he swallowed, showing just how tightly she had it squeezed to him. Her eyes, fiery as they were, had taken on a sorrowful look, like all emotion had been drained from their color. "Please, do not get any closer to me, I do not wish to hurt him or you," she called out to the two butlers getting closer to her. A crack in her voice was evident as she spoke, perhaps as a means to fool the two men into believing she was saying the truth. "I'm warning you, please do not get any closer, you will only get him and yourselves hurt by doing such a thing."

She bit her lip, her face changing expressions like a snap of the fingers; fearful now was she as she looked into their eyes. The first of the two butlers had advanced on her, a knife hidden in the sleeve of his coat, moving off to her right side. Marcy watched as the second of the two hovered to her left, his own weapon disguised somewhere on his body.

"Our lord is in our care, we will not let you take him from us that easily," the first of the butlers answered her pleas.

"For you to take our master away would result in our punishment, unhand him now, fiend, or meet your death," the second called out.

Marceline only shook her head in response to the two, dropping the dagger from where it was pressed into the nobleman's throat. "I did not want to do this to either of you, but the two of you have disobeyed the pleas of a queen to her subjects."

As she stepped toward the first of the two butlers, it was in that moment that the nobleman coughed and breathed in deeply. Her watery, red eyes observed her victim with silent hatred and sorrow, but she did not make a move toward him. Whatever it was that he planned on doing or saying, she might as well see and hear him out rather than taking charge. No, that was not the right thing to do at this time; a single moment of hesitation would cost her valuable time. Angrily, Marcy looked away from her subject and a hand slashed outward, toward the first of the attackers. Her hand wrapped around the fragile throat of the man and as it did so, he began to choke and breathe harshly. It was as if air could not reach his lungs, like something was blocking the airway and he was suffering the worst of deaths.

"Back down!" the nobleman ordered of his servants, though by now, it was far too late, for Marceline had her paws on one.

Gritted teeth and wild eyes snatched a glanced toward the nobleman and she squeezed her grip tighter around the man's neck. Altogether the airway to his lungs had been cut off, and now he was truly suffocating, feeling the rather of the widowed mother. Before long, the butler's eyes had lolled to the back of his head and his body had gone limp and motionless. She let go of the man's gorge and let his body drop heavily to the floor with a sickening thud, then turned to her other pursuer. "They did not listen to what I had asked of them; if only you had spoken sooner, there would have been no issues." With that having been said, her eyes landed upon the other butler, a grimace gracing her face as she walked toward him.

This butler, he backed away from her after he had seen what she had done by merely grabbing his comrade's neck. From his back pocket, he pulled out a pocket knife and flicked it open, shoving it shakily out in front of him. Marceline only maniacally laughed at his feeble nature and the fact that his weapon could easily be rusted into nothing. "You think that's going to do anything to me?" she inquired in a mocking tone, pointing at the pocket knife. Sauntering up to him, the magus simply touched the metal part of the knife and it instantly rusted into dust. The butler's eyes widened in fear farther and when Marceline reached out and caressed the man's cheek, he fainted. It wasn't just any faint though; no, at the single touch of her gloves, the man's life had been taken from him.

Marcy's eyes dropped with the body and she looked at it for a moment longer, then stepped over it and headed back to the nobleman. "I'm telling you, your servants should really know not to mess with Death or some serious shit will go down." She calmly picked up the end of her whip again and dragged him along down through the corridors of the mansion. Eventually, she was able to reach the main doors of the building and exit them without much of a hassle. However, she knew that there would be more of the servants coming after her here soon, if not right now. Ramakrishna barked at her to gain her attention, but she amply ignored the water creature as it charged after her. Shadows trailed after it with each step and it danced around her feet as she tried to make their grand escape that wasn't so grand anymore.

"Rama, stop it," the woman scolded the creature as she tugged her captured along and through the maze of a front yard. "We are trying to make our grand escape and all you're thinking of doing is trying to play fetch with me. Go play fetch with them!" As she said this, the dog-like creature whimpered, but then darted off to find one of the servants to play with.

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 1,055   |  NOTES: ...

A maid was chasing after Marceline as she ran through the maze of a front yard, darting from one place to the next. Ramakrishna charged toward the offender, jumping into the air and tackling the woman to the ground, biting deep into her neck. She screamed out in pain and gripped her hands on each side of the beast, trying to pry him off of her, but she was failing. He had a decent grab of her neck, blood pooling to the ground; finally, she was able to tear him from her and throw him to the side. Marcy paused and turned around, staring at the housemaid as she gripped her bleeding neck and stood slowly, clumsily to her feet. Grimacing, she looked to the shadow beast, snapping her fingers together and pointing toward her assailant again, ordering for an attack. Rama shook his head, blood splattering around him before he rushed the lady for a second time, leaping into the air to ram her.

He was shoved off to the side with ease, but the maid had struggled roughly to even push the aquatic animal away from her. Marceline chuckled darkly as she watched her pet assault the overnight maid, smiling and holding tight to the young nobleman. The man watched in horror as he saw his chambermaid slaughtered before his eyes by his kidnapper's pet, no true struggle from the monster.

"You see? No matter what course of action you or your servants make against me, they will all be countered by my pet or myself," she spoke. The silence was broke standing there, as if watching a television show being played in front of them: a horror movie on screen. A scream echoed as Ramakrishna dug his teeth into the maid's skin again, burying his grip deep, releasing blood across the ground. She sounded choked, and then silenced followed after, Rama busily eating the carcass of his victim, the nobleman forced to watch.

"Just look at the beauty of nature; how the beast feasts on the weaker. . . now, look at you and me, the predator and the prey." Still smiling, the woman turned her face to look at him, grabbing hold of his face, causing the rotting to speed up, flesh peeling off. Squishing his cheeks, Marceline planted a wet kiss on his lips, which caused the man to sputter and cough up blood. "Our love for each other will grow stronger by the day! We'll make a family together, live in my castle, and be happy for eternity!" Her hand lowered down to his pants, halting there, like was hesitating her thoughts, then she tangled her fingers in his hair and yanked him away. "Later, Marcy, later. Now is not the time to be thinking such lewd things; after all, you are running away with him." Clearing her throat, she dragged him along by the locks of his hair, teeth gritted, until she was abruptly halted by the man.

Angrily, Marceline spun on her feet to face the partially decayed noble, about to yanked him back toward her, when only she stared back at him. He was looking at her as if he had given up on the act, given up on trying to fight back and live his life again. What was it that was going through his mind right now? Why was he staring at her with that strange look on his face. "Well, are you going to speak or just stare at me?" the mage ordered, stamping her foot into the ground harshly. Her action startled the man and he cleared his throat in response to her, moving a scaly hand up to the tie around his neck.

"Release me," he requested of her, only to received a cackling laughter from what he had wanted of her.

"Are you insane? I'm not going to release you! Every one of these servants of yours are going to die and I'm going to bring you to my buyers," she snapped.

With that being said, she whistled for Ramakrishna to follow after her and pulled at the arm of the man with her gloved hand. She roughly dragged him toward the gates, but as they were heading there, another of the overnight maids had arrived. The maid was not alone though, for she had an overnight butler with her as well, and Marceline grimaced at the sight. Flicking her finger toward the maid, she sent Rama toward the pursuer, then released her grip on the nobleman to attack the butler. He would be easy, all she had to do was touch him and he would drop to the ground dead and she could move on. Charging the butler, she was taken by surprise when he easily countered her attack with the wrist knife in his sleeve. Marcy bounced back as she was cut by the knife, black blood pooling from her pale, ashen skin with light cracking through.

Crying out in anger, the woman rushed the butler again, this time colliding with him, fist against blade, though barely. She could not feel the pain as the blade cut deep into her and spilled more of the black blood that was residing in her body. However, she did manage to touch the butler, and the moment she had touched him, he had dropped to the ground. Marceline laughed at the fatal ending of the man, taking her boot and smashing his head into the ground for the hell of it. "That's what you get for intervening with the likes of me!" she called out, her insane laughter following after the smashing of the skull. Blood covered nearly every inch of her body, coating her in specks of black and red, though it easily blended with her clothing. Brushing her hair out of her face, she stalked back toward the noble and took up the hilt of her whip, pulling him along again.

Yet, she still had the maid to deal with, and raising her finger, the woman shot a bullet of death energy toward the lady's forehead. As Rama rammed into the maid's legs, the bullet went through her head and the domestic stumbled backward before crashing to the ground. "Let the bodies hit the floor!" Marceline shouted, laughing once again before whistling for Ramakrishna to come to her side.

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 1,011   |  NOTES: ...

Rama bounced and barked toward her, blood dripping down its mouth, but as she called him to her, a shiver ran down her spine. It wasn't a bad shiver, not in the least, it was a shiver as if she could feel the presence of another being in the vicinity. Her senses kicked in and she instantly knew that another mage was around, but who it was, she wasn't entirely sure. This magical presence was unrecognizable; perhaps, it was a new member to Savage Skull she wasn't aware of? But why would they send in a member to help her with this job? Were they spying on her every move without telling her? No, it couldn't be another member of her guild, it had to be an enemy mage and she was not in the mood to deal with them. Growling, the woman spun on her heels and snapped her fingers in order to tell her pet to attack the mage, but stopped herself.

Surprise! It appeared to her that Savage Skull had sent in a recruitment of sorts or maybe it was her job partners finally showing up. Marceline stared at Yuki as she bent down and patted Ramakrisha on the head, frowning at the endearment toward her pet. "Don't give him affection, he bites," she stated in a solemn tone, looking from the aquatic beast back to her partner in crime. Her grip on the nobleman tightened ever so slightly as her eyes gazed into the awaiting embers of her guildmate. She was just called boss by this person and she was oddly terrified of being able to give orders to another being. Clearing her throat, Marcy flipped her hair over her shoulder and shoved the noble in front of her, toward Yuki. "Him. . . we need to get him to the buyers as quickly as possible and this place is starting to flood with maids and butlers."

In that moment, she ripped her whip free of the nobleman, releasing him from her capture the second the whip was freed. She cracked it into the air and looked around without much chatter toward Yuki, as now she was listening again. Footsteps, quite a few of them, resounded in the air and she was uncertain how to respond to the amount of them. First and foremost was the fact that she could sense another magical presence within that ground, likely that water mage. Marceline gritted her teeth and looked to Yuki for a brief second; before she could react, a blinding light flashed around them. Ramakrishna yelped in pain close to where she was, but she wasn't able to see where he was or what was happening. "Rama!" Marcy shouted in distress, calling for her pet, not knowing that the maid with the whip had captured him.

As the light faded, she blinked and looked around, though her vision was hazed still by the sudden brightness. Colors dotted her eyes and again, she gritted her teeth out of anger, gripping the hilt of her whip tightly in her hand. "Get them! Kill them! I don't care what you do, but they do not take my pet without my consent!" she screeched toward Yuki. Without hesitation, the woman pulled her wrist back and flicked it forward, sending the length of her weapon toward any one of the maids and butlers. The nobleman, he was gone, out of sight and as her vision cleared more, she began to pick out forms and people. First, her eyes landed upon the amass of maids, butlers, and guards, down to the nobleman at the feet of. . . At the feet of. . . her eyes scanned upward as she recognized the booted feet of her former job partner standing among them.

"Dubhlainn," she uttered his name with astonishment, red irises gazing into his purple ones and finding herself unable to move. First, her expression had gone from anger to surprise, but now it had returned to the look of betray and hatred. "What are you doing on the side of the enemy, Dubhlainn?! You are going against Savage Skull protocols on jobs!" A snarl curled her upper lip and she snapped her whip back to her side, breathing heavily and harshly outward in response. In no way was she able to fight her own guild-mate, not when they were someone that she happened to actually like. Now, if it was someone who she absolutely despised with all of her being, then she wouldn't hesitate to injure them. Her eyes narrowed and she thought for a moment, then she latched her whip to her side again and formed death energy at her palms.

Streams of death energy flew from her palms to the corpses of the fallen maids and butlers around her, raising them from the grave. Despite all of the energy which had gone into a few, three had risen to stand by the side of the woman once again. They flanked her on either side, menacingly staring at the group of servants with the nobleman and Dubhlainn. When they were at her side, Marceline pulled her hands together and around her, the flora began to lose its vibrancy, turn brown. The energy was absorbed by her into her hands, forming there into a ball before she looked at Dubhlainn and grinned wildly at him. "If you don't see loyalty as important, then by all means, let us have a battle fit for enemies!" she called out to him. As she said this, the three zombified beings split off from where they stood next to her and began to assault the maids and butlers.

The orb of death balled into her fists had billowed up and was sent outward, straight in the direction of the dullahan. She didn't want to hurt him, but she knew deep down that there was no escaping this fight with the Savage Skull Escort. Marceline bit her lip, though she did not hold back in the strength of her magic, simply hoping not to deal too much damage.

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 1,423   |  NOTES: ...

Marceline was not a defiler of the dead; she was a defiler of the living, who happened to die in the process of her perversion. If the nobleman did not like that, then he would have to do something about it, but he was too weak, too shaky to do anything. Her eyes darted from Dubhlainn to the knelt nobleman, watching as his hand shook where he held onto the trigger. She smirked a little, as if silently telling him that the battle was already won by her, even though it was just beginning. However, Dubhlainn's voice reached her ears and she looked back toward the Savage Skull member with anger apparent on her features. Marcy bit her lip, as if holding back the words she wanted to yell at him, like her trust had just been broken by him. Eventually, her cool was back and she breathed in deeply before focusing her attention back on the "Marauder."

"I am disappointed in you; it's unfortunate that you have chosen the side of the nobleman," the mage stated solemnly. She scowled at him when he made the comment about her gaining wrinkles from the former expression she had given him. "You should know by now that I don't age, I have not aged and will not ever age with the body that I have."Marceline stared at him with a hardened gazed, quite angered by his words, though not openly expressing how she felt. "This body is just a cavern, a hollowed out specimen where souls are kept in order to maintain my living self. I can just as easily leave this body to another one as you would be to break the souls hidden inside of it." She licked her lips and swung her hips as she moved a little closer toward where Dubhlainn was standing by the nobleman.

"You might be the servant to this bastard, but Death has called upon me and like you, I cannot disobey the orders of my Master. This man was meant to die today and I will make sure that he does not live to see the next day as you wish him to. Master would be highly upset with me if I let someone live who was not meant to live longer than he was supposed to," she retorted. Her hand balled up into a fist and she flung it outward in the direction of the duo, sending a crescent-shaped blade of death energy. "You are defying the laws of nature, Dubhlainn, even you should know by now that you cannot step in the pathway of Death." A grimace crossed over her face, though it was quickly eliminated, masking her face over in one of expressionless emotion. "How would you feel if I prodded my hands into your task and told you that you could not kill someone that you had to kill?"

Marceline's attention quickly snapped from the Dullahan to the water mage that was summoning water bullets. A hiss of anger escaped Marcy's lips and as soon as the bullets had flown in her direction, her material form dispersed into ash. The bullets phased through her immaterial form, allowing for her to reform once all of them had been expended by the overnight maid. In retaliation to the mage's attack, she flung herself at the two butlers mixed in with the other maids, forming in front of them. She grinned wildly at them and gripped her hands around their neck, instantly killing them the moment her gloved hands touched them. Letting the two bodies drop lifelessly to the ground, she launched herself at Dubhlainn again, shifting into her immaterial form and poofing next to him. With a single hand, she'd aim to impale him with her fist, her intentions to take him down, despite being busied by the maids.

She was not happy with the idea of her pet being crucified on the brick wall and she would make sure he paid for it. However, Ramakrishna was not entirely paralyzed and from his place on the wall, an orb of shadow formed at his mouth. Once it was entirely built up, he released it at the water mage, his only means to protect the one person he loved the most. Marceline, on the other hand, fell back from her place next to Dubhlainn, figuring her attempts at attacking him would be futile. One hit was enough and her attention would be back on the water mage that her pet was currently trying to protect her from. The whip at her hip was unlatched in a matter of seconds and sent flying toward the maiden, wrapping around her body. Marcy cracked the whip once it was latched onto the maid, sending a spark of death energy down it to begin sucking the soul from her.

With her free hand, the Lady Without Mercy would cast off her shadow and send it toward the maid with dirks. This shadowy figure launched itself onto the overnight maid, tackling her to the ground and otherwise disturbing her attack. The immaterial being raised a clawed hand and lashed downward, across the domestic's face to scar her up. Its free hand would move to dig into the innards of the woman, aiming to tear out the bowels of the human beneath it. Her shadow hissed violently in the face of its assailant, a formidable foe in the sense that it could not be touched by physical means. Now that that maid was preoccupied, Marceline's attention was dragged toward the halberd maiden, pointing a finger at her. "Why fear death? It's the most beautiful adventure in life!" she shouted as specks of ash settled upon the body of the halberd maid.

Her attention would be brought back upon the water mage, yanking her closer to her by means of her whip. Now face to face with the maiden, Marceline would eye her over seductively, then smile brightly at the woman. "Valar morghulis," she whispered into the woman's ear, moving to kiss her upon the lips and send a beam of death energy down her throat. Point blank of the attack and the woman's body dropped to the ground, though Marceline held tightly onto her shirt collar. "Do you see, Dubhlainn? I have many ways in order to kill people and each one is just as painful as the next. Your team of brawlers is not going to win against us when Death is gratuitous and upon our side like He is always on mine." The smile one her face spread wider before she spun on her heel and faced the Dullahan, blood on her lips.

She'd wipe the blood away, smearing it on her left forearm, advancing toward the nobleman and his bodyguard. Stopping halfway, the woman stared at the duo, as if contemplating something, then raised a hand and shot a bullet at the forehead of the nobleman. "I no longer care if he is taken to the buyers or not; if he dies, I will simply tell them he died and that's it," she stated. Her hand dropped to her side and she turned away from the two, uncaring if the man dropped dead or not. Instead, she focused on her job partner and puffed from her human form to her cloud form, and reformed next to the shooter. Standing there, Marceline gazed at the assailant of Yuki, staring directly in the eyes of the lancer with her own. Seemingly, her eyes flickered to nothingness for a brief second, as if they were truly abysses in the depth of her face.

To the lancer, they would see the demonic look, but to those around her, the visionaries on her would look like their normal selves. The moment the lancer looked within the depths of her eyes though, the moment she would be instilled by fear. Fear that would cripple her, fear that would induce the most drastic death within her mind that would paralyze her. This would be active for a while and almost inescapable, to the point she would have to avoid looking into Marceline's eyes. As easy as that sounded, it would be far more difficult to avoid eye contact with her than it was made out to be. Yuki would be able to do her own thing, however, as this would only affect enemies and allies were never an issue. If seen as an enemy, then the spell would affect them, but as long as Marceline thought of them as an ally, they would be fine.

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 742   |  NOTES: ...

It was the flash-bang that occurred that dizzied the young maiden, distorting her senses that she hardly ever used, other than sight. Colors dotted her eyes as the light died away, Marceline trying to focus her gaze on either Yuki or Dubhlainn. However, Dubhlainn was nowhere to be seen and she was thoroughly confused by now on where he had gone. She turned in a semicircle, though the dots that sparked in her vision made it awfully difficult for her to be able to see. A frown appeared on her lips, but soon those dots were beginning to fade away and she could see more clearly. Unfortunately, it was not long after her vision returned to her that her former job partner had slammed into her side. Both Dubhlainn and her toppled to the ground, with him pressing her to the ground and a hand wrapped around her throat.

Marceline only smiled at the feeble attempt of him trying to choke her out; this body of hers, it was not human. She gritted her teeth though and very clearly acted flawlessly like the action was truly making her suffer through pain. Her nose wrinkled up with the anger coating her face, and she reached both of her hands forward to wrap them around his neck as well. "Two can play at this game, Dubhlainn," the woman spat into his face, raising a knee upward harshly into his stomach. Had the movement been quick enough, she would be able to flip him over into his back and straddle him instead. Now, she would be looking down at him, no longer betrayal or hurt upon her features, but the intent of killing. "You crossed the line; now, you have angered Death and I will be the one to deal out the punishment you so deserve."

The Mark of Lilith, visible on her back to the naked eye, pulsated with a faint, purple glow, and the sound of bones cracking resonated into the air. From the wings of the tattoo sprouted her own leathery, bat-like ones, beating the air to stretch themselves out. Her leather crop top hardened into a stone-like substance and extended downward, where it attached to panties-like undergarment by two slender straps on the sides. Combat boots changed to the same hardened, stone-like substance, leaving her toes, heels, and kneecaps exposed, but just stopping above the knees. A stingray-like tail snaked out behind her and whipped around, so that it was pressed at the base of his throat, below his chin. Fingers that wrapped tightly around his throat, with the widowed mother's gloves, received the same substance on them and extended up to her forearms. Short nails grew into knife-shaped claws, though only grew out to a decent three inches, their tips digging into his skin to draw blood.

A dark chuckle emitted from her throat and the succubus let out a maniacal laughter, baring sharp canines to the Savage Skull man. She lowered her head, so that her lips were close to his ear, the ram-like horns that had sprouted on her head, threatening to cut into his face. "I wouldn't hesitate to kill you if you so much as showed a lick of disobedience to Savage Skull," she murmured in a soft tone. "You want to see what a servant of Death can do. . . no, what the embodiment of Death, himself, is able to do? Then let me show you, little boy, what happens when you anger Death for getting in the way of natural selection." One hand released his throat and swung forward, aiming to cut across his throat like a cat scratch to the body. Her beady, fiery eyes stared back into his own, devoid of the emotion that was commonly expressed on her face.

"Funny how you believe a silly silver bullet will kill me," the woman laughed aloud, snatching the bullet from his free hand. "I am not a werewolf, I'm merely an undead being. . . but I cannot be killed by silly fairy tale and urban legend means." Closing the palm of her hand around the bullet, she would throw it aside and looking Dubhlainn back in the eyes. She beat her wings and let go of his throat with her other hand, lifting herself up and away from the Dullahan. Marcy crossed her arms over her chest where she now floated diligently in the air, looking down upon Dubhlainn and Yuki.

I HAVE BECOME DEATH

the destroyer of worlds

TAGGED: ...   |   WORDS: 762   |  NOTES: ...

She floated back down to the ground and shifted back into her natural form, staring at Dubhlainn from where she was next to Yuki. First and foremost, the wings of her form had folded to her backside, caressing her skin before forming back into the tribal tattoo. The spinal cord of her back tattoo had appeared shortly after the wings had faded into the drawing once again. It was followed by the disappearance of the natural armor that coated her breasts, groin, and legs, leaving her in the nude. However, her nudity was quickly negated when her ash formed around her to her create her commonly worn clothing. Now wrapped up in her crimson cloak, the woman maneuvered toward Dubhlainn and crossed her arms over her chest. "Calling me stupid isn't going to help your case that you still took the side of the enemy, even if you knew things we didn't," Marceline stated.

"It was underhanded and you could have at least informed us ahead of time that you were operating for them for a reason. I follow my gut instinct, whether it's wrong or right, and you should know that by now, Dubhlainn," she continued to scold. "And for your information, I don't care the reasoning behind why someone wants someone else dead; if Death is involved, then I have to take care of it. If I don't take care of it, Death will just leave a mess in His wake and I'll be the one scolded for not cleaning it up. After all, I'm just the cleanup crew, that's all I've ever been to Him, and yeah, it's bothersome, but I'm under servitude to him." She shrugged her shoulders and turned away from the Marauder, flipping her long, black hair over her shoulder. "You do as you please anyway; you have a sort of servitude toward Harrigan, don't you? Or at least, that's what I could tell when we raided Shirotsume."

She gritted her teeth at Dubhlainn's annoyance, acting as if he had known the entire situation beforehand, like he had planned it out or something. "You know nothing about my past!" she shouted at him, whirling on her heels with hands balled into angry fists. "Stop acting like you know everything about me when you know shit about how I had lived and how I had died! You go waltzing around Savage Skull and various other places that I'm at, acting like you know who I am and how I am." Marceline snarled at him before spinning back on her heels and stomping away from Yuki and Dubhlainn to head back to their guild. Ultimately, the assassin had ruined her mood and by continuing to claim things about her would only piss her off. He knew nothing about her and yet he was talking as if they had been inseparable best friends since 300 hundred years ago.

Marceline hadn't made it far before Dubhlainn had blatantly asked her why she had hesitated in killing him. She halted in her tracks and stared dead ahead of herself, into he mass destruction of the town they had raided. At first, she didn't answer his question, but simply stood there with her hands curling and uncurling into fists. It was certainly an answer that she wasn't thoroughly willing to tell Dubhlainn, but if she didn't, he would bother her until she did. Breathing in deeply, Marcy thought about how she was going to explain to him why she hesitated at all. Eventually, she found her cool enough to stop herself from curling her hands into fists at a constant rate of annoyance. "Because, Dubhlainn. . . I like you," she stated in an extremely cool and calm voice before a wind picked up.

As the wind picked up and whirled around her, her natural form began to speckle away into flecks of ash. All of her had soon been consumed by the unfavorable outlook of the ashen cloud and was quickly swept away. Embarrassed with the answer she had given Dubhlainn, the woman no longer wanted to be around either of her two job partners. She did not want Yuki questioning her on her feelings toward the Dullahan and she did not want Dubhlainn to see her any different than a guild-mate. Marcy claimed that she did not have emotions at all, but it was becoming more apparent that she did and just couldn't recognize them. . . Unfortunately, Fate had a way of easily separating people and as a result, she would soon not be a part of their guild.