Fit

[Blood Ravenous]

A bubble of laughter threatened to burst out of Ryxa's mouth, but she held it at bay. Her face was a fight between being amused and trying to remain stoic. For some reason she had found that wink hilarious. It had not been expected, so perhaps it was just a knee-jerk, surprise reaction. Either way, now she was plainly amused by the whole situation, her eyebrows up and a smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. Her boss was a madman, and for some reason that was still funny. Suddenly she couldn't resist, and giggled shortly, straight fingers hovering over her red lips to cover them from view. It stopped as suddenly as it came, and she stayed in that position, her eyes gleaming with a warped happiness. That wink had somehow conveyed that everything was going as planned, so she was not going to interrupt anymore. Let things run their course, and she could be as confident as the old man that everything would work out in her best interest.

[Jenica Sabiny]

Of course she wanted more blood. She always wanted more blood. The hunger twisting her belly into knots even now demanded more blood at any given time.

She felt frustration rise like bile within her mind and narrowed her eyes. This older male did not know his own game. The other had given her a vial of blood with the promise of taking away the hunger. The blood wasn't the point; the sudden heady rush of energy and the sensation of warm were what she wanted. She didn't care if this was delivered through blood or anything else. She wanted it back.

They wanted her to do something, kill someone. She wasn't good for anything else, so this was the only conclusion there was. But she didn't know how long it would take, or who it might be. And she wanted the warmth back now.

Her fingers clenched into her palms, the nails digging only hard enough to begin to hurt, but not to break the flesh. Her tongue again slid against the glass in her teeth. All efforts to remain focused and not lose herself to a rage frenzy.

She closed her eyes, rolling the memory ball from one edge of her mind to another, using her efforts to keep it at bay to further ground herself. When she opened her eyes again, she was calm enough to look as lazy as ever.

"What. Work?"

She hesitated as she spoke, unsure if it was the appropriate question. But it was what had emerged, so she waited to see what the elder male would say. The battlemages remained ignored.

[Nichatus]

Nic just stood there, staring at the back of the vampire's head, waiting for her to move the hell out of the way. He didn't see any of Moryldar's sorted looks, but he did hear Ryxa's giggling. She received a venomous stare from behind Jenica. If looks could kill...

With an impatient sigh he edged around Jenica and walked to the front of the chair that was laying on its back on the ground. Raising his foot slowly he placed it on the leg of the chair and pressed down, uprighting the chair with a motion so lazy it rivaled the look on Jenica's face.

The young battlemage practically fell into the chair, his back against one arm and his legs hanging over the other. He turned to look at the old judge through eyes that looked like they hadn't been shut in weeks. "You rang?"

[Moryldar]

Moryldar smiled. Again. He addressed Nichatus briefly first.

"Nice of you to join us."

Soon, though, his expression matched the seriousness of his topic and he returned to the vampire.

"I think you know. We need you... I need you, to kill someone. Ryxa will help you find him, but he is very elusive, and irritatingly skilled."

His right hand went down to a drawer beneath his desk. The glossy black, lacquered wood slid open along well oiled tracks and he withdrew a familiar looking vial of red liquid which he then placed in the center of the desk before Jenica. The old man fully expected her to lunge for it and take it before anyone could react, but that didn't bother him.

"This is yours. If you work with us, I will get you more."

[Jenica Sabiny]

She didn't lunge or fix her eyes on the vial when it was produced. She kept her gaze firmly on the old man, waiting several beats after he'd finished speaking before moving forward and taking up the blood offered. Rather than drink it, she pushed the bottle into a pants pocket, tucking it away for later use. Her eyes never wavered from the old man's face.

He had admitted his own need. This was odd enough, and anyone else would have quizzed him about the whys and hows of his intentions. The vampire didn't care. She'd gotten one sip of what she wanted, and another sip waited in her pocket for later use. But she wasn't a drug addict and this wasn't her fix. She didn't need him or his spelled tonic. But he needed her.

Her knuckles rested against the front of the old man's desk and she leaned herself forward to impose herself into his personal space. The shadows beneath the desk began rolling and slithering against his legs and feet with the promise of a later game, and the placid gaze gave way to a glare when her eyelids squeezed closer together. What she lacked in physical hackles to raise, she equaled in presence. The air around her tightened and thickened with implications of the violence she was holding back.

She was making the conscious decision to spare his life, and part of her felt that she needed good reason to do so. She wanted to force him to prove his case and demonstrate what exactly they were giving her. She would be a pawn with little care, but she did not want to be their dog begging for scraps at a stingy table.

But now was not the time to force his hand. She was within their domain where death could potentially wait just around the corner. The young male's attack would not soon be forgotten.

"Who?"

[Moryldar]

From the same drawer from which Moryldar had taken the vial of blood he withdrew two more items. The first was a sheet of paper with Chrishton's liking drawn on one side. It was the original draft of the drawing printed on the wanted posters that were posted around the city prior to Chrishton's collapse. Whoever the artist was captured his image flawlessly.

The second was an old leather jacket. Patched, discoloured, creased, slashed and poked in various places, the thing had seen better days but was still very wearable. The leather was soft after years of wear, and it was designed to fit a man a fair bit larger than anyone in the room. It smelled like a lot of things, including the streets, the woods, the historic district, and a tavern. It smelled like a man who did not get a chance to bathe a lot, and like a canine.

The judge slid the picture across the table so that Jenica could see the face, and then pushed the jacket beside it.

"Him. His name is Chrishton."

[Jenica Sabiny]

The vampire eyed the drawing laid out before her with a tilted head as she instinctively memorized the features. But the drawing would not stick, not with how disjointed she was. Instead, the smell would be her guide, rising from the coat as invisible steam. She inhaled deeply twice and the man's stench was in her mind forever.

She stretched the coat across the table and took note of every crease and slash. Some slashes in leather could be explained away by natural wear and tear. These could not. These looked to be battle wounds of some kind or another - knives stabbing at what the coat held beneath. The vampire snorted.

"Mortal?"

The odd blend of man and canine scents pushed her to examine the leather from one end to another, searching for dog hairs. If the man had a dog it would not be an issue, but if he were a warlock with a familiar it made a difference.

Not that she would specifically ask either.

Now she raised her eyes and gave Ryxa a lazy stare, lips curling upwards again as she raked her gaze over the woman's pretty face.

"They'll help?"

She could see no other reason for these two mortals to be within the room, unless intended to hold her back should she go into a blood rage. She'd already pressed against both, run her fingers along their armoured flesh. Maybe later she could have a taste...

"Mortal male would want that one. Why not just the pretty?"

Her eyes never wavered from Ryxa's face.

[Moryldar]

"Yes he's mortal. He bleeds like any man. He has magic, but we don't know what kind."

There was a lot of old dirt on the jacket and there were hairs to be found of various sorts if she searched long enough. Many of them did not belong to a human. They were thin, white, of various lengths, and caught on the inside of the jacket.

"Ryxa knows what Chrishton looks like, she has caught him before. She will help you do it again. Her and Nichatus will help you if he has friends, but Jenica..." The judge waited until he had her attention again. "If you kill them you get no reward."

[Jenica Sabiny]

She pulled one of the longer hairs free, creasing her brow at the odd coloring. The scent was distinctly canine and tugged at her memory, but there was an odd spin to it. Something native that she should recognize, and yet made totally unrecognizable by either region or species.

She snorted the scent out of her nostrils and shook her head to clear her thoughts. The old man was speaking again.

His ultimatum made little difference to her, one way or another. The male in the ruins had given her a vague promise and a vial of blood. And the blood itself left her suspicious of how truthful they were being. If they had a cure for her bloodlust, why did it come drenched in blood itself? She gazed at him without moving or blinking for several minutes, considering this thought until she had a firm structure to communicate.

"What reward?"

They'd never told her explicitely what they were promising. A better life. How? Drinking their tainted blood and feeling fake warmth? It was too close to a lie, and the only person she refused to lie to was herself.

She wanted to know what pretty lies they would feed her. She wanted to know what she would really be fighting for, but she didn't expect an honest answer. Still, she wanted to see what this old man would have to say.

[Moryldar]

What reward? Zhou was to have lured her here with a very specific promise. Did she come all this way thinking vials of that blood were all Moryldar had to offer?

"A cure."

The judge folded his hands on top of the desk in front of himself. He looked quite honest, and nothing about him suggested deception.

"You're sick. I think you know that. The blood inside you is tainted like a poison. You're not dead, Jenica, despite what you may believe. Your body is asleep and all it needs is for you to wake it up again. Nothing you do is going to wake it up but we have a way. We've cured creatures like you before so they could eat normal food and walk in the sun again."

[Jenica Sabiny]

She pushed away from the desk to raise and examine her hands. Asleep? No - she knew asleep. She did not remember sleeping in a living body, but she knew this was not it. She narrowed her eyes at the old man past her fingers, snorting her dismissal of his explanation. But she remained quiet.

Sick. As though she'd caught some mortal disease that could be cured with fancy little knick knacks and leeches. She was certain this wasn't so. Once this body had been mortal and filled with a human; now it was dead and filled with a vampire.

She wouldn't let herself believe. Better to be surprised than broken.

She kept the coat in her grasp as she turned and started for the door. She had the scent she needed and knew they wanted the bearer dead. She needed nothing further and was content to leave and get on with it.

[Moryldar]

Moryldar's eyes followed the jacket as it left the table. He'd hoped to keep it in case the porter or another mage could use it later, but that wasn't going to be necessary if Jenica brought him Chrishton.

"Porter."

One word was all it took for the autonomous entity that was Justice Hall to understand Moryldar's command. It knew Moryldar's mind well, and the intonations in his voice conveyed his wish. The porter was always watching. Lightning calculations - a mind free of the burdens of the flesh - made his response times inhuman, even when caught by surprise.

The sound of stone grinding against stone was all that gave away his next move. The path Jenica was traveling down, the hallway to the antechamber, ceased to lead anywhere. It was more than a simple sliding door or moving wall; the very nature of building morphed into something new as if without moving the walls at all. By some trick of the imagination, magic so powerful it altered the essence of space effortlessly, the building had changed.

Jenica was heading towards a dead end made of the same seamless marble as all the other walls in Justice Hall, and the way out was now behind her. It was a seldom used trick which anyone working there would be familiar with, and it hinted at the truth behind Justice hall and all the power within. It was no illusion.

"I can't let you rampage through the city alone." Moryldar called after her without budging from his seat. "Ryxa and Nichatus go with you."

[Jenica Sabiny]

Her eyes flowed up the wall that now stood before her, taking in the sudden barrier blocking her path out. She did not bother to check if it were real; she could feel her shadows pressing against its edges, just as they would any other wall. She would not be able to get by.

She clenched her fists to gain control of her raging emotions. Her first response was violence, slamming each knuckle into the barrier until they were opened down to the bone and the wall was bloody with her fury. But this would lead to nothing and expend more of the blood she was trying to conserve. It was a near thing, but violence stayed out of her response.

Instead, she turned and made her way back to the room with halting steps. She still wished to hit something. Perhaps the young male...

She appeared in the doorway and leaned against it. She did not glare or snarl at them; she stood placid and calm, save for the clear sense of pent-up movements which surrounded her.

These two humans were supposed to help her. She didn't understand why she needed the help for one mortal, but she wouldn't argue. If the game became boring they would die and she would go on her merry way. But this hunt - a hunt with purpose beyond the kill itself, intrigued her. She would play with these humans as long as needed. Once the target was killed, she would see what they really had to give her.

And perhaps kill them anyway.

She shuttered her eyes and produced another lazy grin, waiting for the old man's next order.

[Moryldar]

Moryldar motioned for Ryxa and Nichatus to escort Jenica out of the newly rearranged hallways. The main layout was largely untouched, and the Porter kept things relatively simple. Numbered doors made it fairly trivial for someone who knew the place to find their way out, and of course he could always put things back the way they were.

"Go on. I would suggest getting cleaned up first. There won't be much sneaking around if he can smell you from a block away. You might want to check the place you saw him last. He's bound to have some friends."

[Blood Ravenous]

Ryxa didn't move to go after the vampire when she initially left, seeing as how she didn't want to work with her in the first place. She watched with arms folded, and cast a wayward look at Nic. After the filthy presence left, Ryxa swore she felt some sort of vibe or feeling from the Porter, and heard the grinding of stone. At the Judge's words, "Ryxa and Nichatus go with you," Ryxa's eyelids drooped. She sighed.

The woman stoically watched as the vampire came back. Despite the lazy grin and leaning pose, Ryxa wouldn't put it past her to go from relaxed to violent in a matter of seconds. The battlemage felt a little uneasy about all of this. What if Moryldar was lying through his teeth, and they had just led a monster to their lair? And when it found out this whole thing was a sham, that monster would know exactly where to come. She hoped the Judge wasn't bluffing. Most importantly, why did it take a vampire to kill a mere man?

A sudden grin spread across her face at the mention of cleaning up. “I don’t think she has cleaned up for a century,” Ryxa snidely commented. She sauntered forward until she stood, arms still crossed, an arm’s length away. “Even though all you seem to deserve is a hosing down like a pig in the muck, the only way to get clean is a real bath. Unless there are any disagreements, I suggest we go to the best equipped bath in the region. Mine.” She looked over the vampire’s rags. “I think my clothes might also fit,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the thought.