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'What'cha working on?' Hvit asked, as Mirja sat silent and still for too long, for a girl of her frantic enjoyment of activity. 'Consolidating what I have learned from teaching my Tulpa to people. I feel I am on the edge of a breakthrough. What I am doing now, what I have been teaching people, it's basic. It's almost insultively simple now that I look at it. The only reason I'm not pissed off is because something like this is not something that you can jump into with both feet. You have to start from the start, as much as I like to rush things' she replied, before a Hell Butterfly came from Tsubasa. Vague and confusing, he might as well have sent "There are monkeys invading the eighth garden of strawberries, come quick". Still, if he was taking time to actually send a message to her, it had to be something important.
"Also, might be using you for some Combat Theory soon. You are the only girl around that is easy to get to and strong enough for me not to have to worry about holding back" She said, talking to Hvit before aiming herself to Tsubasa's house and taking off. Fighting Colin had broken several dams that she had put up recently. It spilled her desire for speed into the ocean of her soul, and made her need again, after she had barely managed to get it locked up. But it had also set fire to her blood, and forced her to feel the need for combat once again. To remember how beautiful it was to feel Caanan's men crushed beneath her heels, ripped apart by her claws, and to smell the fear as she tore through everything they threw at her with a soft, blood-soaked laugh. It didn't bode well for dinner parties, so she put it away, and now it was back. She wasn't sure how well she was going to deal with it this time. The Rage, the monster howling inside her that had been forged in the absence of a girl she had only scant memories of. But she was important, and Mirja loved her. The Beast of Gévaudan snarled inside her, and it reverberated deep in her body.
She arrived next to Tsubasa, and didn't look all that well. Her eyes were unfocused and her body shook, subtle but constant. "So, what's it today? More trips to Earth for your lady boys?" She asked. Usually her tone would make it clear she was just teasing him for her own amusement, but today, her tone was airy and distant, as if the words came without the accompanying tone that usually followed them.
Ahh, more toys of murder and mayhem that Tsubasa was saying belonged to her now because of a seat in his house. Well, rituals were what rituals were, and she was not going to offend him by ignoring them, even if right now she didn't really give a toss about all of this. She had her own troubles to deal with, and so she just walked up to the sword and touched it, hoping to punch whatever this thing was into submission and then she could b back to leashing the Beast again, maybe feed it a few scientists from the remaining strongholds. There were always fools after Caanan's legacy.
However, once she touched it, the world faded away and she was deposited elsewhere. A conceptual world where things happened out of sync with reality. A Woman like Mirja, with mastery over the manifestation of her thoughts, made her presence known in a place like this. Surrounding her was a crimson gas, dense enough to be easily visible, and within this gas, was a procession of skeletons. Hundreds floated in it, some garbed in the clothes they died in, some naked and showing the shattering death blows that ripped them from the mortal coil and placed them on Mirja's back. And just outside the gas, by her side, was a Wolf, of sorts. The thing was massive, and anyone could tell from looking at it that it was incredibly aggressive. Blood red eyes and claws the size of Mirja's hand, it was what she could be if she lost the very pressure control. She looked about the place, which had it's own sense of decorum. Corpses are far as the eye could see, fire and death and slaughter, all of which appealed to the wolf by her side. Some corpses caught her eye, and she put names to faces. Ibiki, Hayden, Colin, Henrex. Three of them strained credulity, one of them made her laugh softly. And so she marched forward, the crack of bone and the splatter of brain as she cared not where her feet walked. A corpse in her way was crushed under heel until she arrived at the men. One looked like Tsubasa, the other looked like he had decided to take a dip in lava and forgot that he still had his armour on.
"I take it this is your home then? Didn't mean to intrude. Tsubasa told me to touch you. I don't know what I was expecting, but you I can honestly say were not it. Armour looks painful, by the way" she intoned. The Wolf lowered it's head, and Mirja stroked it softly. She was not one that turned away any part of her simply because it wanted to put syrup on ice cream, or eat peanut butter straight from the jar, or murder everyone that looked at her like she was a freak and paint pretty pictures in their blood, echoed by their screams of pain and fear.
"And such a lovely abode it is. Those chained to my soul would feel at home here. Death is most at peace around Death, wouldn't you think?" She asked. There was no emotion to her tone. All emotion was domain of The Wolf right now, and that could only snarl, showing teeth that grew bloodier and bloodier as the seconds past, as if the life force of everyone that had ever fallen by Mirja's hand was being imprinted on it's body. Claws saturated, fur became matted and a dull red, as her thoughts manfiested the catastrophe that was here in her journey for Caanan.
But then she was assaulted, mentally. Suddenly her mind was filled with many more deaths not of her own making. Like fitting the ocean into a bucket, it came, and Mirja took every one of them into her very Self. Each memory death adding a new skeleton within the gas, until they became an infinitely dense golem of endless bone. Staring outward with innumerable skulls. Had she never met Caanan, it would probably drive her mad with how much despair, and how much death was crammed into her at this moment. But, at this point in her life, it was merely putting a year into a day for her. There was once some trouble reconciling the fact that she was a weapon of mass destruction and death, now more Caanan tech than natural Mirja, she was a beast designed to kill the enemies of a man who had met his end at her fists. But no longer. This girl knew the meaning of her claws now, and knew how to use them. The scale was higher than she had ever done, but it was just more of the same. She had become attuned, and jaded to the horror of death.
"If this is the best you have then this is going to be a very boring meeting" She told the armoured man. She was meant to be bleeding from her eyes, her ears, and her mouth. But that sounded like too much effort, and besides, which set of ears? If it was from her wolf ears then it would matt her hair and blood was so hard to get out of her hair, so she didn't. A girl like Mirja was hard to combat on a stage that was metaphysical, since her mastery of the Tulpa made her the Queen of the Metaphysical. The fire in her blood seemed to crank up a notch, however. An experiment in her early days had left her with blood that was constantly at odds with the body it housed itself within, and caused her to feel unending agony every second of every day until it became so commonplace she couldn't feel it even if she focused on it. This, was like she had just been injected again, and it hurt, and the memories roared back to her, the Skeleton golem taking in the gas and playing a holographic rerun of her time when she had first been interred with Caanan. Agony, and Hatred, Disgust for males, constant sex and degradation, the emotions in that time roared. But this time, she had experience in dealing with it, so she was not as destroyed by it.
Ohh, sure, just have a jolly conversation while she stood here tapping her foot and waiting for them to get on with it already. She didn't know what else she could do to show them that she was not impressed by their parlour tricks in the slightest. She was not some fresh pup that could be cowled into submission by some smoke and mirrors. She had lived a life that she would not wish upon anyone, even Henrex. She knew he had his own shit to deal with, but only because he had told her every single waking moment of his existence.
Eventually, the ceased ignoring her, and got back to Mirja, who was subsequently cut up, covered in the scars that she should have had, were it not for Caanan's rejuvenation, and her own Tulpa powers. But pain was a close companion these days. She held it close and made love intimately under the stars. Pain was her Mistress, and she was demanding, so while her body burned with agony she had rarely been forced to deal with these days, it was not something entirely new, and thus, not something that could put Mirja on her knees. "Of course I have regrets. If you don't have regrets you are not living your life properly. If you claim not to have regrets you are a fool, a nun, or a liar. Nobody lives perfectly, and if you are going to judge me for what I wished I could have done, what I should have done if I was not clouded by fear, or anger, or hunger, or desire, then we are probably not going to get along very well. Regrets show that you have lived your life, that you have stood up and taken control. That you have chosen a path and stuck too it, no matter how hard it has gotten, or how lush the grass on the other side has become" Mirja replied, laying the wolf down and fading the gas from view. Instead of postulating, she was going to extend a hand, metaphorically. And then less than metaphorically punch with the other if it was cut off.
Crossing the distance in the blink of an eye, she put a hand on Ruin's shoulder. All this, and at her core, she just missed the one person she had grown to care for, if Mirja's assessment was anything to go off. "No. I specifically avoided anything that might be something I could care for, because I didn't want to lose it. Didn't believe I could handle it's loss. But, right now, I am meeting people, getting friends, falling in love. And while I want to protect them I know more than most the inevitability of death. I'll tell you what I told Tsubasa. I am no replacement, I am not your Master mark two. I will never fill his gap, nor wear his shoes. I am my own woman. And that is who you will have to accept me as, or deny me as. I open the door for you, but only you can walk through"
This whole thing, was just the scream of her soul. And Mirja could not hear it over her own, until she learned to quiet herself. It was this ebb and flow of her mentality that had been so pervasive recently, and she certainly tried to keep it as flow, because she was nicer then. Did, not always happen like that, however.
The screams - more screams, it was like scream central here - erupted in her mind, but they had never heard Hvit in the morning, so with effort it was repressed. And to Ruin, she gave her heart and her mind, sitting next to her on a very nice chair made out of thought. "People see ruin as a horrible thing, something that can never have anything good come of it, but I deny that. I say that something to be ruined, is part of life. Without the ruination of the old, there is stagnation, and the new is never built, either for lack of space, or lack of need. If a Man's life is never subjected to ruin, then he will sit content doing nothing for his entire life, not becoming anything, and eventually dying as nothing. But if there something in his life that has been ruined, then he rouses himself and goes out to right it, and betters himself in the righting of it. Sometimes even betters others if he meets them on the path. I'm not here to play who's the better killer, or who's castle of bones is bigger. I'm a paradoxical existence. While I enjoy the feel of murdering someone, I despite the act. Killing is often a necessity because both sides believes the other side believes that, and there is no recourse. So I would never start a war for the sake of starting a war. I would never kill for the sake of killing. Hurting someone is an entirely different thing, people recover from getting hurt. It's a little harder to recover from getting killed"
She let out an emotion one would not consider to be connected with Ruin. Happiness. For even when something is ruined, there are the people who wished it would be ruined, so that action would be spurred on and progress could be made. Or indeed a toxic part of one's life finally falling to ruin, so they could be free. "I can feel you. Maybe it's because of this world, or my peerless instinct, maybe its all of the above. But I can feel you. The desire to prove one's self, when all one has is fighting, is not something to be ashamed of. But you don't have to prove anything to me. Jeg ser deg. Og jeg liker det jeg ser. Or, to try and translate and butcher it's meaning probably. I, see into you. And what I see, appeals to me. As for revenge, sure. Who doesn't love a bit of cold-blooded murder for the sake of a dead guy against people who were probably not even part of the situation you are revenging on in the morning?"