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Subject Post 1Subject: The Devil's Dealing [Yaksha/Masakaki/Kaala] Sun Jan 29, 2017 6:08 pm
Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.
TRANSMIT- Initiate Monadic Signal- RECIEVE- Initiate Rakshasha Frequency - 42 FLAVORS, PLUS 624- Initiate Encroachment Protocol - WITNESS- Typhus
A tragedy befell the world. It began as many did; with love. You mortals call it love, yes? Love is beyond us. Or we are beyond love. It can be so hard to tell sometimes. The moaning, moist sounds of organics engaged in the highest act of intimacy possible. We see all, but we are not vouyeurs; we spare you the most intimate parts. They are unimportant. Know only that she loved him, thought he was the salvation she had sought for so long. She raked her nails down his back, proclaimed her undying devotion.
He told her that her money was on the dresser. Love may be beyond us, but it was beneath this one; he was seeking a higher form of devotion entirely. And so it was that he turned loose the first of many more into the world. It was an old story, one that many knew. She left that place burning, carrying with her the seed of great, incredible, hideous potential. She left that place with a glow about her, some indescribable feeling. Even being rejected hadn't abated her feelings. She had left her mark on him, and he on her. There would be time to really impress upon him the depths of her devotion. She rubbed her belly, where the abominable parasite grew, even then.
You think that jape too unsavory, Dear Reader? We apologize. Such jokes were unfamiliar to us. We know all, but we forget what it is like to think in meatspace with meat minds, sometimes. There is no joke here, black or otherwise. This matter is one of absolute sobriety; a matter we are determined to catalog comprehensively. The woman is irrelevant; another faceless convert. We will call her Jane. Jane is a common name for women, we're told. The parasite is called Juin. That one is a much less common name.
And the man, the very sterile man whose seed carried only a single horrible force along with it, was called Yaksha Dokuja. It is his story we will follow today. Yaksha Dokuja was riding a high of unimaginable depths as he dressed himself once more, and fondled each furrow in his back. Masochism is a natural defense mechanism when every moment is pain. You think masochism madness? Madness is the base state of the universe. Yaksha Dokuja was not mad, any more than God may be called mad. Yaksha Dokuja was not a man, whatever previous sources may have indicated. Yaksha Dokuja was a very peculiar type of monster. His pale skin, exceptionally low core temperature, and incredible lack of object constancy wasn't a clear enough hint?
Look beyond. Look beneath. See the whitesnake jism, coiled beneath the inorganic. See the ophidian mien? See the eyes, slitted in a way no human's ever could? See the body, hardly even worthy of being called flesh? The hole, ever so perfectly circular, situated just so? Yaksha Dokuja was a Hollow One, and a particularly unpleasant one at that. He had taken to humanity like a fish to water, reminding himself of all of the human features his kin had forgotten.
You think this a mercy? You imagine that an animal, given humanity for the first time, would undoubtedly improve? Consider the course of history. Intellect has always been correlated with unmatched cruelty. Survival merely breeds dull, drab necessity; those beasts which struggle inevitably progress. It is entirely automatic, and often difficult to track. Necessity brings about innovation. Innovation brings about stability. Stability brings about prosperity.
Prosperity? That is a term for those without imagination. We apologize. Such a word has no place for humans; humans prospered long ago, and have moved beyond such a concept. No longer are humans fruitful, or mutiplicative. Much like the Drosophila melanogaster, they have become exponential. No longer were humans content with mere prosperity. Humans demanded more. Handed a world of nearly infinite possibility, humans were not satisfied. And so they reached to the stars.
Comfort. That is the word we sought. Comfort is for those of the evolved. Only in a species that has so thoroughly dominated its environment could one hope to transform the world to meet its desires, rather than the other way around. Only humans could develop the arrogance to believe they could change their environment more easily than themselves. Or perhaps, until recently. Even an old dog may learn new tricks, after all.
Centralized air. Such a perfection of technology was the marvel of Yaksha's attention today. The notion he could simply crank the thermostat to wherever he wished, and be confident in the notion that within mere moments he'd be bombarded by the very elements? Nearly hypnotic, to one who had spent so many centuries trying to perfect the notion of sunbathing for just barely long enough.
We call him Yaksha Dokuja Monevarius. This is what is known as a name; we don't yet know what goes into one. Even to us, the Names are something evasive, ever-changing. Everybody has one. No one hands them away freely. No one who wishes to survive, at least. But names are not always sufficient. No one in the world remembers Mrs. Mallon. Perhaps Mrs. Brown is more easy to recall? No? Mary Mary, Quite Contrary. What is in a Name? Snips and snails and puppy dog tails? No. That would be silly.
Mary Mallon is the name. Names are all too often insufficient. Names burn like wildfires, gone in a scant few decades. Never to be seen again. But there are those which may yet become candles, guttering and flickering against the winds of the universe. Battered, wounded, ever-changing. Stuck in a foundation so very malleable that a hero may become a villain in the course of a single Naming. We apologize. Waxing poetic is normally unlike us.
Was that what you mortals call a pun, or play on words? We suppose so.
The Names are the important part. Didn't you know that, Dear Reader? It's only ever about the Names. Name rolls off the tongue so nicely, so easily. Yaksha Dokuja Monevarius. Mary Mallon. They have no need to be showy, or memorable, or to strike fears into the hearts of mortals. They are what they are. To make them something else is simply folly. What is the word you mortals coined? Such a clunky one. Hardly worth remembering for any period of time.
Soubriquets. So very like Names, and yet so insufficient. Like a photograph of a man is not the man. No one remembers the Name, after a time. But the soubriquet burns and smolders gently. Mary Mary, Quite Contrary. How many was it you killed before you were caught? How was it you hid for so long? Not from the world; that is no mystery. From yourself. How is it any one person could so thoroughly fail to understand themselves?
The analogy is more than a mere distraction, Dear Reader. Did we not make that clear enough? We apologize. It's so rare we find one so willing to listen for so long. The last who tried plucked out his own jellied eyeballs and bled out from the shock. We miss him so. Mary Mary, Quite Contrary. How does your garden grow? With pots and pans and filthy hands. And so many corpses in a row.
Typhus was the legendary beast, birthed from the Earth itself in response to the atrocities of the gods. Typhus was vengeance made manifest. Typhus was the father of monsters. So many countless atrocities counted their lineage back to the Typhus. Did Mary Mary, Quite Contrary? We know.
Did you think it was a coincidence they called it Typhoid?
Names, Dear Reader. They're what it's all about. Mary Mallon is the Typhoid. She merely took on the features of her namesake.
Does it matter that Typhus came so many centuries later? What is time to us? We exist outside time. This time, the infection was going to be so very much worse.
A small and petite Rakshasa found herself in the heart of Sin City on a diplomatic mission for Shadow Fall regarding the quick fame that came to a certain individual, a famous man with no identity is what he apparently was and Kaala's job was to find the man without an identity.
Her first stop was to arrive in the city, the Shadow Fall presence in the city had been alerted to her arrival and so they left her alone as she arrived via Shadow Movement so she was floating above the skyscrapers and buildings, so much activity, demons and humans all looking to indulge, all looking to submit to the chaos and lunacy of their inner souls.
Kaala was no different, in the past she would've scoffed at such things but after her encounter with the Queen of Demons she wanted nothing more than to go down there and indulge in the chaos and madness and it took all her effort to maintain her composure as she began her task to track down this person, trying to focus on all the spiritual signatures around her although that was bound to fail but nevertheless she figured she'd have to resort to the old fashion way of cat and mouse.
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Subject Post 4Subject: Re: The Devil's Dealing [Yaksha/Masakaki/Kaala] Sat Feb 18, 2017 3:03 pm
Work had been good for a particular hollow. It had been so good, so exceptional in fact, that he almost felt as if he needed to reward himself after a few long months of building rapport, finding countless starstruck fans, and setting his roots down. It had been a slow, tedious effort up to now, but Yaksha was reminded of a tree every time he went out into one of the City of Light's countless casinos, every time he rubbed elbows and shook hands. He was such a tiny shoot for now, hardly even worth notice. But by the time the world recognized him, the damage would be irreversible.
But today, there was no work to be done; Yaksha was simply wandering the streets of the city, allowing himself to be entranced by the simple knowledge that he was part of something. A face in the crowd, a pack animal. He had spent so many years being a spectre, a mere hovering memory, unable to change a single thing around him. And now, he couldn't find it in himself to stop. There was something so simply intoxicating in the touch of another human being, in the simple exchanging of pleasantries, in every little part of life that he had never been able to partake in. And to think that there existed those out there who preferred solitude to the presence of others!
And so here he was, simply walking down the street. The naked enthusiasm in his gaze, the warmth and welcoming nature in his voice, the way he walked down the street...all of it stood out nearly immediately. A few people looked somewhat disturbed by him, but he could also see a few smiles coaxed from those near him, and some had even reciprocated, being swept up in his exceptional enthusiasm. It was like a disease, he found; one that people hadn't been inoculated against, of late. Opennness, frankness, warmth, eager and equal interaction? It shocked Yaksha how quickly a simple smile and a few heartfelt words could make a person really open up, even now.
He almost felt bad, at this point; he was so very desperately trying to give them a fighting chance, to let them see what was to come and keep it from happening. He wasn't even hiding it for fuck's sake! And yet when he looked them in the face and told them that he planned to take everything they held dear and make it his, they all smiled and nodded and told themselves what lucky people they were to have him around, and how big an opportunity they'd been presented.
Not for the first time, Yaksha wondered if madness was the base state of being, for the universe.
Wandering around the little Hell Demon was slowly losing her calm and cool demeanor. This brat had been hard to find and the amount of time she had spent searching yielding no results, which only sought to frustrate her more. The time ticked on and the young child had finally stood there deep in contemplation until she looked at the road in annoyance.
"It's not working.... I gotta think about this but I just can't, what did Mana do... I just want to do all the things these people are doing; drinking and wasting money and life away but I need to do this task. DAMN IT!"
Her frustrated shout drew most of the crowd's attention to her which only annoyed her more, probably thinking of her as a little kid lost in the city and didn't belong here. Screw them, Kaala didn't care about their petty judgments.
Taking off once again she moved away to continue her search, that Hollow had to be around here somewhere and the Rakshasa wasn't leaving until she found him, her or it. Whatever it was.
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Subject Post 7Subject: Re: The Devil's Dealing [Yaksha/Masakaki/Kaala] Thu Mar 09, 2017 1:52 pm
Yaksha had managed to hear the girl from a few people away, and to detect her distress from a few blocks off. He could sense it almost immediately; a hideous miasma roiling off of this girl, leaving her feeling almost like a live wire. He could sense hatred and anger and so many other emotions rolling off of her, her desire to dive deep into the wretched sensation of addiction and her sense of duty. Something was very odd here, and it was absolutely time to start sniffing and snooping. This was Shadow Fall territory, but to see any demon walking around this brazenly...something strange must be going on.
"I hardly consider time and money wasted, if one felt fulfilled in spending it. But I could certainly sympathize with those who consider this kind of frivolity to be a needless risk. Come along, little miss. We can talk all about what it is you've got planned for this brilliant little city as soon as we find somewhere we can have a nice long chat, without fear of interruption."
Yaksha twirled on the ball of his foot ever so slightly, hand twirling around in a small circle...and a second hand sprouting from his wrist, clapping against the other. He rose his brows, waggling them ever so slightly, as he whispered at her.
"And to think that people used to wonder what the sound of one hand clapping was. Shall we off? There's much to discuss."