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Stolen Bones [Alakazam & Grungeknuckle]

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Samuel stopped, allowing Aria to pass him, and continue down to the cellar. In doing so, he made sure to put himself between her and the two poltergeists, not exactly shielding her, more asserting his dominance over them, drawing a line in the sand, as it were, that they were not to cross.

Toth he generally didn't have to worry about. Driven mad by rage and grief, the man's soul had never found rest, bent on vengeance even in death, seeking someone to punish. He was blunt, direct, and utterly predictable, almost to the point of being trustworthy. Nas, on the other hand... Nas was smart. As a man, he'd killed because he liked it.
Neither were spirits Samuel had created, but instead hunted down and bound to his will. The power they gave him was undeniable but sometimes, especially with Nas, Samuel had considered destroying them, rather than binding them.

As Aria reached the cellar, Samuel slapped his thigh, and whistled. From where it had crumpled on the floor, Deayojee took form, from coat to beast, and trotted over to him. The one and only of his creations Samuel trusted enough with some semblance of free will.
Dogs were just better like that.

"Sit. Stay. Guard," he said, curtly, pointing to the ground at his feet. The beast complied with a sneeze-like bark, planting it's (nonexistent) hind-quarters on the ground, taking it's post. Samuel nodded, and closed the door behind him, leaving the three "things" on the ground floor.

"Blood? No, fortunately, I don't need anything like that," He bent down, rummaging through the chest on the floor, pulling out a leather cord. "I just need you to hold my hand, that's all," He began winding the cord around his forearm, about up to the wrist, before motioning over to the small fireplace, "Sit as close to the fire as you can, this could... this will get quite cold." Before following her to that side of the cellar, he bend down, and picked up his staff.

Again, Samuel kept himself between Aria, and one of his tools of necromancy. This time, it was to shield her, to try and assure her that the staff would not be used against her, not again.
 
Aria was grateful that he had put himself between her and his spirits. It made walking down into the cellar easier, knowing that he was aware of her own concerns. Once she had made it down there she took a deep breath in order to quell the rising panic. For a moment she felt calm, but then she heard a slap and suddenly his abandoned coat took the form of an animal.

Though surprised Aria managed to avoid a scream or any other audible indication of her feelings. Still the elf did jump when the beast had formed and gave it a wide berth as it trotted past her. Her hand had even gone to her waist, grabbing for the dagger that was usually there. Once more the absence of it was felt and she frowned, wishing she had something. There were a few knives by his work table, and before he had come into the room she grabbed one and slid it into her pants. While she didn't expect Samuel to hurt her the feel of the steel against her skin gave her a certain amount of comfort.

Once he was in the room she walked over to where he was, watching him rummage through his chest. She look a little relived to hear he didn't need blood. When he instructed her to sit by the fireplace she did without complaint or comment. Her silence seemed to speak more than her words would have. Aria was nervous yet again. The woman had felt more comfortable in the man's bed then she did down here, and while her face remained composed her eyes moved from him, to the door, to the beam she had been previously tied to. There was a difference between this sort of danger and the usual danger of her life. Aria was generally prepared, armed, and ready for a million different scenarios, but here in the cellar she felt vulnerable and exceedingly unsure of what would happen next.

When her eyes landed back on him and she saw he was grabbing his staff for a brief moment her face betrayed her and she looked panicked. Her body tensed, and she imagined she looked akin to a rabbit or deer that had just realized her arrow was pointed at it.

But then she noticed how he held the staff, away from her, and the woman appeared to calm down, once more glad the knife was tucked away where he couldn't see it. The comfort of that helped immensely. As he neared she held out her hand, ready to get on with this. Her eyes darted to the staff, but then to his eyes, and she smiled, reassuring both him and herself that this would be fine. "You have perhaps the most menacing staff I've seen yet. It's bleak, but I suppose that suits your school of magic," she said, not sure why she was choosing to comment on it. Though it did make her feel better to address the tool that she feared.
 
Samuel had sat down, almost next to Aria, cross legged on the dirt floor. Her statement about his staff made him pause, a look of concern, and maybe mild offense on his face, as he bit his lip. She wasn't wrong, of course, but she wasn't entirely right either. He took her right hand in his left, and placed the offending staff on the ground beside him, giving it a long, contemplative glance before continuing.

"Death... It's not evil, but it's not good either, it just is. Its a force of the universe, massive and dangerous, and impossibly, uncountably old. The problem is, people are good and evil, we all have at least a bit of each in us." Carefully, he was taking the cord, and winding it around their clasped hands, and up Aria's forearm, wrapping it around just below her elbow and tucking the end in. It was tight, but the would unwind easily if either of them pulled away. Like most ritualistic things, it was purely symbolic, a stand-in for something far more potent. "When you grab the reigns of something so massive, so... cosmic, it can bring out the worst in a person. And it's easy to just give into it and become addicted."

In the dirt before them, Samuel scratched a simple circle, before taking his staff back up in his right hand. "I'm not saying you're wrong, it is bleak, and vile, and it destroys people's lives. But it doesn't have to be like that. We abuse the Art, and it abuses us back, and together we make it that way." What Samuel was a saying wasn't exactly uplifting, but if anything, it made him more determined. He wasn't going to fall into that same trap. He'd stumbled, but he wasn't going to fall.

At least that what he told himself. Confidence and pride can be a trap unto itself.

He was taking deep, steady breaths, like a diver about to plunge into the depths, before looking over at Aria. "Ready?" His knuckles were white around his staff.
 
Aria listened carefully as he spoke, trying to better understand his art...and also why he chose to use it. Her eyes followed his tasks, watching him wind the cord around them and draw the circle. She understood what he was saying, or at least what he was trying to convey, but at the same time she had a hard time grasping why anyone would plunge themselves into such dark arts. Especially someone who seemed to think he could come out unscathed, uncorrupted.

Perhaps it was like her and her thievery. Yes it used to be a necessity, but now she could probably make it in a more honest trade, but it felt good to use her skills. But even still she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with what he did. Especially after feeling his blights first hand. Even just holding that urn had been enough to make her question what he was doing. The misery had been palpable, and she had been happy to hand it off to Briar. Besides all that the company he kept didn't make what he did anymore alluring. Those spirits were bleak and vile. At least to her.

"I suppose finding the good in it is a noble effort," she said quietly, biting her lip to keep herself from adding, possibly a stupid one. His decisions were his and she was in no place to judge. She willingly stayed in the shadows too.

He seemed tense, and she wondered just how confident he was in what he was doing. Still he had promised no harm would come to her, and she really didn't need to worry about him. A part of her couldn't help it though. After everything that had happened it was hard to ignore how nice it felt to hold his hand, even if his grip was a little tight from nerves.

"I'm ready," she said, looking from his staff to his face. The elf offered him a strained smile and added, "May you travels be safe, ah I mean have a safe journey...it's an old blessing." She wondered if a blessing would even apply to someone travelling into the underworld. She doubted it.
 
Samuel nodded his head. He'd made journeys similar to this before, but never this deep. Dips beneath the surface, one foot in the mortal world, one foot below, as it were. He wasn't ready for a trip like this, but the idea of not trying...

Bowing his head, he poured his thought and will into the small circle before him, letting out a low hiss. Black ichor began to slowly bleed from his staff, the drops and little streamlets becoming more viscus as they flowed. It boiled on contact with the air, the black steam lazily trailing downward, towards the circle. As it descended, it circled, like water flowing down a drain.

As was his word, it started getting very cold. Or rather, he started getting very cold, his final breath coming out as a mist, as frost crept across his body, sheathing his staff, and hungrily snatching at Aria's fingers. The journey was not a physical one, but one of spirit, and only the dull pulse in his hand gave any sign that Samuel was in a trance, and not frozen to death.

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The underworld appeared as different things to different people, or so Samuel had heard. It may look like a forest, a labyrinth, a fog-shrouded field, a mountain meant to be climbed, or even a vast, empty blackness. To Samuel, it was beach. Dull light, from a distant sun, ever at dusk on the horizon, lit grey clouded skies, barely illuminating inky waters. There was no land to be seen above it's surface, and he was already up to his ankles, the sands below being slowly drawn out from under his boots, an eternal outward tide. The pull would only become stronger the further he went.

With some direction of will, he pushed himself upwards, seeing images of the mortal world, his cellar, Aria, himself, hearing the sounds of the fireplace echo down to him. Finding the wizard's shop would be... arduous, but entirely possible. Thankfully, he still had his staff with him, or rather, the essence of his staff. Right now, up in the mortal world, it was just a stick of bone and metal, an empty vessel, just like him.

There were things down here, in the water. He could see the ripples, hear the quiet splashes of things flitting in the deep dark. They made him tense, but not concerned. There were always things in the underworld, sniffing at the surface, trying to find a way though. They were, for the most part, a minor nuisance, the equivalent of underworld insects and vermin.

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The trip seemed to take hours for Samuel, but mere minutes for those in the Mortal world. Somewhere in the city, in Briar's shop, the Urn rattled, hissed, and with a low whistle, like a stiff draft, seemed to collapse into itself, leaving behind a fine ash. Moments later, nearly half the city stirred fitfully in their sleep, their dreams disturbed by upheavals and turbulence in the world below.

With a grunt, Samuel's head snapped back up, the ice melting, cracking, and falling off his limbs. Except it wasn't Samuel, but a thing, wearing his skin, wearing it's face. It looked around, hawk-like, taking in it's new surroundings with a rapid series of glances.
Right Arm.
Staff.
Left Arm.
Left Hand.
Bindings.
Aria.
Cellar.
Cellar Door.
Aria Again.

"Well. This was unexpected." It let go of her hand, and grabbed her wrist, tightly, before swinging the staff down at Aria's head.
 
If he hadn't already told her not to worry the whole affair would have frightened her to the point of leaving. Despite her skills with a dagger if given the choice of fight or flight she almost always chose flight. Or at least flight and then kill the threat from a distance with a well placed arrow. This was especially true when it came to magic, since her own experience with it was so limited.

The black liquid was enough to worry her, but when she noticed the frost she almost pulled away from him. However he had warned her it would get cold, and that thought helped to quell her fear. She focused on him and the warmth of the fire, trying to ignore the chill and the occasional shivers that ran through her body.

He had said think of fond things. Aria kept that in her mind, thinking about him, the feeling of his hands on her body, his lips on hers. She thought of other things too. Her home, happy memories, but her mind kept going back to him. Perhaps it was just the proximity...or perhaps he had left an impression on her.

His trip didn't seem to take long. After what might have been less than ten minutes his head had snapped back up and the frost was gone. The warmth was welcome, but as she watched Samuel her smile faded. His frenzied glances seemed off, like he was not used to his own skin. And then he spoke...and it sounded like him, but not quite. Something was off. A bad feeling crept under the skin, and it was accompanied by his rough grip on her wrist.

Her free hand immediately flew up to her head and she immediately tried to wrench her wrist away and escape his grip. She managed to move her head enough to prevent a full blow, but the staff still made contact. She grunted and grabbed the staff to keep him from swinging again and her legs kicked at him as she tried to twist away from him. "You bastard. I swear to the gods....Samuel, STOP." The last words sounded more like a plea than an order. Amber eyes searched his face for any flicker of recognition, of him. This didn't make sense. He hadn't done anything to make her believe her would hurt her when he came back up...

The knife, she had the knife she realized. but she was reluctant to let go of the staff to grab it, and reluctant to use it against him until she understood what was going on.
 
The thing within cocked his head sideways, like a bird of prey... or perhaps a fly. And when it sneered, it's smile just kept going, past what nature allowed, stretching nearly to the jaw, the edges of the sickly grin curling in on themselves. "Sssauhmn-ael," it chortled, a quiet shrieking quality to it's voice. It had too much range, sliding too easily to noises above and below the reach of human hearing, it's alien syllables forcing the man's throat to undulate in ways it was never meant to.

Cold, perfect, white teeth stood out against rapidly blackening gums and lips as the creature spoke. "Wahs thqat theh little lhiving's man's name?" It's ability to pronounce simplistic human words was getting better as it moved along. "He should have known better than to go where he didn't belong. And all alone, too." It's eyes rolled back momentarily, and it's face flinched, as if being tickled, or pinched, unexpectedly. "Nnnhhnnn... he keeps scratching at the door, trying to get back in. But it's just you and me now."

It grunted as Aria's foot struck it in the stomach, but that cracking, twisted spider's grin never faltered, as if permanently frozen. With strength more than a man's, it twisted and rose to its feet, pulling her with it, nearly dragging her through the fireplace along the way. It continued to spin, until the creature within had swung her against the wooden beam, the same one she'd been tied to earlier that evening. It pressed itself close to her, breathing her in, like a glutton sniffing a feast before diving into it. "I was expecting on worming through the veil and finding a fresh corpse suit to crawl into, once that black jar went off, but finding a living body..." It pressed it's face into Aria's neck, a forking tongue lashing against her skin, " ah, it just holds so many more possibilities."
 
Well this definitely wasn't Samuel. If the way it had spoke wasn't enough of a clue then the way it's face was changing was certainly enough. It was still Samuel underneath it all, but the changes were so eerie. She was unsettled plenty, her stomach was churning and panic sat in her throat. Aria wanted to scream but she already knew it would do nothing.

When his eyes rolled back a small cry did escape from her lips and she struggled harder. She had no idea what this was but she didn't want to find out. It spoke of Samuel trying to get back in and she silently cursed. He had said she would be safe. That the only danger was for him, but now they were both in danger, and she had no idea what the underworld was like but she felt like she was getting the shorter end of the stick. Though if he couldn't get back up....the thing had hardly seemed phased by his attempt. And it had her...and she was still reluctant to use he knife.

The thing wast even phased by her kick. Her options were dwindling, and before she could formulate a new plan she was being drug along the ground, just narrowly missing the fire place. When her body slammed against the beam she cried out again and would have slumped to the ground had she not been pulled up against.

The hit to her head combined with the rough slam against the beam made her vision blur. She whimpered as he pressed against her body and leaned into her neck. She could feel the hot breath on her and its tongue sliding against her neck. It was almost pathetically comical how she once more ended up against the blasted beam. This time though she didn't expect any amount of mercy. Not from whatever this was.

Aria's teeth clenched as her free hand grabbed for the knife I her waistband. She didn't actually want to hurt him, the body was still Samuel's but if she had to she would. The elf pressed the tip of it against his stomach. "Let go of me or I'll but you like a pig."
 
It pulled away from Aria, just enough to look her in the face, and then down to the knife. For once, the smile faltered, though the mouth remained wide, lips stretched. That black tongue flicked again, licking Samuel's teeth in contemplation.

The eyes slowly slid back up to meet Aria's. They were like circles of glass, sparkling and shimmering and twitching in the light, but so... dead. Empty of anything that could feel for another being.

With a jerk, it lunged closer to her, the blade sliding into Samuel's stomach with a sick, wet squelch. It dropped the staff, and grabbed hold of her wrist, keeping her there, keeping the knife there. It's eyes, so dead and cold, rolled back, it's mouth agape, a groan of agony escaping it's lips. Or ecstasy.

"Hgnnnn... P-pain... Oh... Oh, how I've missed pain..." It looked back at Aria, that horrid, writhing grin back on it's face. "I haven't felt pain in... I don't even know how long it's been... decades? Centuries? Ah, but to feel again..." More of that black ichor bubbled out of the wound, dribbling out of the creature's mouth, inky tears sliding from it's eyes. The wound itself was healing... sort of. The fluid seemed more alive there, insect-like feelers and tendrils like weed roots squirming out, reaching out to Aria's fingers across the blade, knitting the wound closed. Within a few seconds, it clotted up, though the blade was still lodged in there.
"I was hoping to engage in a little pleasure with you, especially in this body, but... we can do pain first."
It's head bowed, as if in a lover's embrace with Aria. But then, teeth, thankfully still human, but still, sank into her shoulder.
 
Hope flickered across her face when the creature's smile faltered. Perhaps that would be enough incentive for him to stop. She could leave, maybe cut a deal with Briar so he could handle whatever this was and get the hell out of this city. While she'd feel guilty over Samuel...well who knew maybe Peter could help him. No use losing any sleep over it.

But then the thing lunged into the knife. Aria's face fell, and as she tried to pull the knife away it just kept her there, it's hand encircling her wrist and preventing her from doing anything. Her entire body was shaking now, it's eyes were so dead...like nothing of Samuel was left. The thing had said before that he was scratching at the door. Was that really all he was doing? All he could muster? Just a damn scratch?

The feeling of something against her hand drew her attention away from it's face, and as she listened to it's joy over pain she watched in horror as the black ooze healed the wound...in a way. The blade was stuck, but she struggled to move the hand away, to move anything away from him.

"Pain?" she breathed out, looking back at the face of the Samuel...but not Samuel anymore. Then he bowed forward, and the bite surprised her. It was perhaps not as bad as it could be, but pain shot through her body, a body already exhausted and weary from all the had previously occurred. She screamed and struggled violently, trying to kick at him, feet aiming for knees, groin and wherever else she could manage. In the back of her mind Aria knew it was helpless, like fighting against a storm, but desperation fueled what fight she had left in her.
 
Warm blood trickled down Aria's shoulder as the thing clenched, then let go, apparently savoring the taste. Her wound wasn't grievous, it hadn't torn away the flesh, but now a ring of teeth marks decked her shoulder. It still wanted her whole. Agile. Wounded prey was no fun to chase. And a damaged soul was no fun to break.

One of Aria's kicks landed solidly in the creature's groin, and another stomped down on it's knee. The joint popped the wrong way with a loud snap, and the creature burst into a high-pitched, almost bird-like scream, the most vibrant and life-like thing it had done yet. But with a jerk, it twisted the knee back into place, more of those dark veins running under the skin. Perhaps this is why it was so pleased to have gained control of a living body. All it's facilities were still intact, it was easier to repair, to stitch back together.

With a grunt, it spun, tossing Aria to the ground so that she fell forward, on her hands and knees, sidling up behind her, and grabbing her hips. "Enough of pain, dear... Let's try a little pleasure, why don't we?" It tugged at her waistband, yanking her trousers down, and exposing Aria's ass. The creature sucked in air through it's teeth. "Yesssss... I remember this... same as the last time I walked this world..."
 
The sound of his knee popping was satisfying and so was his scream, despite how horrifying it sounded, but it only lasted for a moment before she watched it pop back into place. The woman whimpered as the thing healed itself, her options for saving herself lessening by the moment.

Before she could think of something else she was tossed to the ground. Aria landed with a grunt, her knees and hands aching from the impact. She tried to crawl away, get back on her feet, but it had already grabbed her by the waist. She let out an exasperated cry when she felt him pull down her pants.

Aria took a moment, trying to calm herself enough so she could think more clearly. She breathed deeply, fingers gripping the dirt floor to try and find some sort of center. Her eyes searched the floor, but she didn't see anything within arms reach she could use. The rope from before was near her, but that wasn't much of a weapon.

Then it spoke again, and she turned her head to look at the creature, another shiver running through her body as she looked at the distorted face. "Same as the last time...what are you?" she asked, her voice shaky. Perhaps she could get it talking, buy her some time.
 
A trilling noise of pleasure escaped the creature's lips, as it plucked the knife from it's stomach, and tossed it aside. At least it wasn't armed anymore, but then again, but did it even have to be? The thing's brute strength alone made it more than dangerous.

It moved a hand down Aria's backside, briefly running a thumb over her asshole, before stroking her sex. It was less than gentle, prying aside one of her lips, toying with her, before pulling at the button's on it's own pants. Samuel's cock spilled out, still limp, but growing, stiffening.

"The first time I opened my eyes to this world's light, gorged myself on living flesh, the primitive elves I terrorized called me Maknechek... Flesh Weaver. I fed on their weak and young for many days, their arrows and spears were but insect stings to me, until their holy man managed to purge me from the body I had stolen..." Aria's plan seemed to work, somewhat. The thing's eyes were distant, remembering old conquests, old feasts.

"The second time... a isolated monastary of monks, seeking guidance and enlightenment, from beyond the grave. One went a little too deep, too far, before I found him in the dark. They were different, they knew what I was, from whence I had emerged... Knowledge that did not help them. Half I slew while they were still entranced, the others I hunted, as they fled through the forest. Though it was in the nearby village, innocent and unprotected, that I discovered the true glories of rape..." It's cock was now full size and then some, black veins pulsing and pushing the member past the limits of human anatomy. It spat on the cock, before shoving it into Aria. It was only concerned with it's own pleasure, and any pain it caused her only added to it.
 
Her eyes followed the knife as it was tossed onto the floor, out of her reach but also out of his hands. Her own hands ached for it, for the small feeling of safety a knife could bring. She was drawn out of her thoughts suddenly by his hands running down her back side. Aria hated herself as she whimpered, willing herself to ignore his assault, to find a way out.

As he spoke she thought her mind running through her options, trying to ignore the horrible violence he was speaking of so casually. Maknechek, she had vague memories of her parents telling her stories of him to keep her out of trouble. She wondered what her people would think if they found out she had fought with her people's own boogeyman.

Her thoughts were once more interrupted by the creature, but this time more violently. When he plunged into her a sob racked her body and she tried to squirm away from him. His hold on her was too firm but a desire to escape was instinctive. Whatever he had done to alter Samuel's body had also been done to his cock, and the size of it stretched her body past it's limits. All she felt was pain.

Aria didn't make it a habit of counting on others but in that moment she wished Samuel would break back into his body. Give her a chance to get away. Her gaze landed on the stairs, desperate to run up them. That was when it occurred to her. His coat....hound thing. It was up there. He had told it to guard. Perhaps it would help her. She took a deep breath and cried out, "Help me," several times, each time the plea sounding stronger, more like a command. That was how people addressed their dogs...with authority. It didn't seem to be working. The elf sobbed again, then tried one more time. This time the words felt as if they had more weight to them. It reminded her of how Samuel addressed his spirits. "Help me."

His coat was the first to come. Aria didn't expect something whose form was made of cloth to be able to do much, but the thing slammed into the creature, and in the moment of surprise she slipped from his grip. The woman grabbed the rope and hastily pulled up her pants, now noticing his two other spirits had come down as well. They seemed to be waiting, expecting more orders. Though she didn't understand why they were listening to her she wasn't going to waste time trying to figure it out. She threw the rope at the one that unsettled her the most, the skeletal one and pointed at Samuel. "Detain him...ah..Detain him, but don't kill him...not yet"

While the spirits moved in on Samuel's distorted form Aria grabbed the discarded knife, all the while eyeing the struggle. The other spirit had grabbed Samuel's staff and the two were attempting to push the thing against the beam so they could subdue him, hopefully, and tie him down. Now that she had a slight upper hand she knew she could flea, but that wasn't very advantageous...there were so many other options. Kill the creature and keep his spirits for a time, bring Samuel back, burn the entire house to the ground...she hadn't quite decided yet.
 
The creature's eyes rolled up, some semblance of bliss on it's face, as it forced itself into the she-elf. Though any form of tactile sensation felt glorious after centuries toiling in the dark, sensory-depriving depths of the underworld, the pleasure of raw sex, in a living body no less, stood above all else. And it intended to binge on such pleasures.

"Yessss... Scream for help. Scream for me..." It hissed, a hand moving up her back to clutch at Aria's neck. It was too enthralled with the carnal pleasures of her body, it was missing the power building in her voice. And when her call was finally heeded, even with it's inhuman speed, it was unprepared.

The hound-skin coat hit him first, knocking him off, and out of, the elf, nearly slamming him into the back wall. The coat-spirit was light, but strong, and more importantly, agile. However the creature struggled, it could twist and bind his limbs, snarling and snapping at him with unseen jaws just beneath its collar. The other two spirits, though arriving later, moved to obey Aria's commands with equal efficiency. They would be more effective than originally suspected.

Toth and Nas could neither touch nor be touched by living flesh, the two would pass through each other like air and light. This instance was unique, though. Samuel's body was certainly alive. The thing occupying it, however...

When Nas moved to restrain the creature, it found it could not pass though the thing, and the poltergeist's claws connected with the dark spirit-matter that was flooding Samuel's veins. A large grin spread across Nas' face.
It took only moments for the three undead to drag the writhing creature up against the well-used beam, binding it's hands up and over it's head, pulling another line across it's stomach, and cinching the rope tight. And when it struggled against the rope, straining to break it, the poltergeists' claws lashed out again. Though they passed through their former master's flesh, more of that black ooze was ripped out, tearing away at part of the creature's essence.

It's eyes flashed over to Aria. "The bond..." it hissed with realization. The arrogant and gloating undead thing had suddenly become very quiet.
 
Aria leaned heavily against the wall as she watched the spirits work. She was amazed at her turn of luck, not entirely understanding why the spirits were listening to her, but so grateful they were. She moved a hand up to her neck rubbing the spot he had clutched previously.

When they actually managed to push the creature against the beam she grinned, relief and disbelief washing over her. She seemed even more pleased when some of the dark matter oozed out of it as the poltergeists clawed at it. She was still clearly in pain, the way she leaned against the wall was enough to indicate that, but everything else in her demeanor seemed to shift. For the first time out of this whole wretched evening she truly had the upper hand, and she was feeling significantly more confident.

It hissed out a realization concerning her and Samuel's bond the realization hit her as well. That must have been what was allowing her to control his spirits. Though the reason didn't much matter to her. Magic only concerned her when it was being used against her. Aria didn't need to spend time pondering over the nature of their bond.

"You don't seem to be enjoying this world as much now," she said, playing with the knife in her hand as she stared him down. Now she needed to decide what to do. What was most tempting was to spend a few good hours making the creature suffer. Though it had savored the pain before she was sure she could get him to a point where the feeling was less enjoyable.

How long did the bond last though? The spirits were the only thing keeping her safe...if she lost that things could get very bad for again. And besides that the bond was helpful, but every time she looked at them she felt cold, especially Nas. Burning the whole house was an idea too. She could just rid herself of the whole experience.

But that damn necromancer had shown her compassion. That was the nagging issue. Perhaps she could still spin this in her favor...a necromancer would certainly have his uses.

"I would love to keep you up here longer, make you suffer, my ancestors would certainly thank me...but I've never been all that interested in pain. I prefer profit," she said, still playing the knife, a small part of her still tempted to spend a few good hours watching him writhe in pain. "Tear that thing out of Samuel's body, don't harm the body...but if you can, make it hurt." The elf then watched as the poltergeists tore away at the creature, hoping Samuel would be able to push his way back into his body now. It would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity to torture the creature if she couldn't bring Samuel back up. And she doubted the creature would be kind to Samuel in the underworld.
 
As the two poultergeists ripped into the thing, slashing at it's spirit-essence, ragged bits of ethereal flesh boiling away into ichor and ether as they hit the air, it writhed and screamed. Physical pain it could handle. Physical pain it could savor. But this wasn't physical. The corrupted, blighted husk of it's very soul was being torn apart, harming it on a level it had never experienced before.

"WAIT!" It shrieked, "I... I can help you! I know things! Secrets of the dead! Treasures lost to the ages! Black words, unknown to the tongues of man!" As another claw swiped through Samuel's head, the thing's true face was pulled, momentarily, to the surface. A fog of mandibles and bloated eyes, chitinous plate and twitching feelers and undulating gills, swam on the air and shadows, before being dashed by the poltergeist's blow. It let out a scream, a high-pitched gurgle that rose up above Aria's range of hearing, and set her teeth on edge. "Stop! Stop! We... We can make a deal!"

Samuel's body was sweating Ichor, black grease staining his pale skin. The thing within seemed to have trouble using his lungs, and was sucking in air in stifled gasps. "You want your necromancer back, yes? I can give him to you, safe and whole, if you make a deal with me..." It's voice was a dead gurgle, it's eyes were hollow, but it's words showed some sign of life... the life of a cornered animal, doing what it could to survive.

In truth, though, it was playing the same game Aria had been. Delay. The bond between her and Samuel was fading, and once it was gone, she'd lose control of the two spirits. Two murderous spirits, one of which had a particular liking for women.
And there were other things, down there in the waters of the underworld. Predators, circling prey. Circling Samuel.
 
She grimaced as it struggled in pain, not finding it as satisfying as she perhaps should have. Aria was a thief by trade, but a hunter by birth. When she killed it was clean. Pain was useless, a waste of time and an unnecessary cruelty. The elf generally avoided it unless it was needed or she was angry. And she had certainly been angry, but worry was replacing that, forming in the pit of her stomach and creeping up. She could guess her control over the spirits wouldn't last too much longer, and she wondered if Samuel was even able to make it back up anymore.

Still, she ignored his pleas, secrets of the dead and lost treasures were in her line of interests, but not worth dealing with this thing. Part of what kept her safe was avoiding things like this. People that could bite you in the back weren't worth the trouble, and a sadistic spirit doubly so.

When it's face was pulled to the surface her face fell in horror, the image making her stomach turn. If this was the sort of thing that existed in the underworld she couldn't imagine what Samuel could see in his practice. It's shriek was even worse, her jaw clenching and her body twitching as it extended past what she could hear.

Her face which had been almost devoid of emotion looked worried now, staring at the black ichor seeping from Samuel's skin, and its second plea for a deal sounded pitiful. It had the kind of affect a deer's screeches would have if her arrow didn't fly true. The desperation...something that had affected her only hours before. Besides the whole point of this was to get Samuel back.

"Stop," she said to the spirits, making sure the two had completely stopped their assault before continuing. "Why wouldn't Samuel be able to get back up...speak quickly. I don't have time for metaphors or old prophecy." While she was willing to listen for a moment, if only for her own lack of knowledge on these things, she wasn't going to risk letting the bond fade while the thing driveled on.
 
The thing seemed grateful for the ceased assault, and Samuel's body clutched the beam behind it for support, breathing unevenly. The creature's control was indeed slipping, nearly half his face, and much of his figure, were limp and lifeless, Aria would be able to see it moving under the skin, working the parts it needed. Only one eye focused on her, the other slid off sideways, unused, as that side of his face went slack as well.

"T-thank you, Thaaaank you, kind elf, sweeeeet missstresssss..." The thing was cooing, in it's own way, like a spider trying to sing a lullaby. It's eye flicked over to the spirits, then back to Aria. Couldn't flatter her too much, or she'd pick up on the delay. Maybe she already had.

"I was not the only one, waiting beneath the surface. The old man's demise, so violent, so visceral, it was so dripping with death-magics, that it was like a brilliant flash in the night. Like moths to a flame we came, in droves, in swarms, to see what the strange light had been, and found his death burned like a scar on the veil between worlds. That's when we found the Jar, it's glow shimmering down to us from your world. We could all sense it deterioration, the power within straining to break free. And we all knew what would happen when it did."

Now that it had time to rest, time regain it's strength, the thing was filling out, testing it's bonds again. Not jerking at them, just flowing back into the limbs, tensing and releasing the muscles, making sure everything worked, preparing. The limp eye cleared, and snapped back into focus with the other, like two prongs of a pair of forceps, clamping down on Aria. It's gaze was deep, looking into her.

"The blast would tear a hole right through both worlds. The swarm would come pouring through, in the midst of the discord, flowing into fresh corpses, walking, feeling, feeding again. It would be beautiful...."
Like a glass filling up, it's face gradually jumped and twitched back into motion, that devil's grin creeping back along it's lips. And then it faltered.
"And then that necromancer, your necromancer, this-" it shrugged Samuel's shoulders, indicating his body, "necromancer showed up. We all thought he was the one who killed the old man, we though he was our liberator, our savior, so we stayed out of his way. But then he destroyed the black jar, destroyed our way through." It licked Samuel's teeth.
"The only reason I don't have his full attention, is because he's probably too busy dealing with all my brethren. My very, very angry brethren..."
 
A grimace spread across her face as he became re-acclimated to Samuel's body in it's weakened state. Her frown deepened as it attempted to flatter her. Aria shifted and gripped her knife tighter, the time ticking away making her more and more nervous.

The look on her face changed though as it spoke. An old man's death...was he talking about Briar. If Briar had had it the urn shouldn't have been deteriorating. A shiver ran through her body as she realized just how close she had been to causing a mass tragedy. It made her stomach churn. She had felt misery on a large scale before, experienced it first hand. The elf had never wanted to cause that, she thought being a thief would keep her far away from that. Apparently she would have to rethink some things. But not now, it wasn't the time. Aria had been looking away from him as he spoke, but taking a moment to glance back she noticed it seeming to look more lively again. That made her stomach churn more.

As he continued to speak, to waste her time her frown deepened. He was speaking of Samuel, but not answering her question. She straightened up against the wall, trying to look more...more anything really. Less exhausted. Less sick to her stomach. Less in pain. He was getting to confident and she needed to make it clear she was still in control. Or at least make it look like she was.

"All the more reason to give him access to his body then," she said, looking to the spirits again. Finish him...get rid of that thing. And quickly. He's looks comfortable again. Can't have that." She looked confident again, more so than when he had begun speaking. It helped that the spirits were now slashing at the creature again. Her knuckles were white around the knife though, as if her grip was the only thing keeping her together and calm at the moment.
 
Whatever trace of false humanity, no matter how subversive or conniving, evaporated from the creature, once Aria gave the order. The mask fell, and its base nature burst forth. A thing, that had lurched up on the beaches when the bones of the world were still young. A thing, devoid of intellect but possessing a terrifying will, a will that not even death could subdue. It would never stop dragging itself out of the Deep, no matter how many times it was driven back in.

So when the poltergeists came for it, it reacted in the same way it had always, the way it had been born, lived, died, and continued beyond death; kicking, thrashing, and struggling. A spectral claw swam into Samuel's flesh and clawed at its essence, but the creature lurched forward, clamping unreal teeth down on the ghostly arm, drawing a shriek from the undead spirit.

But this was a fight it could not win. Nas' veracity and Toth's brute efficiency was too much for it, even with such a terrible drive, will only does so much. Its inky essence was coming off in shredded bits, losing itself and its control of Samuel in chunks. Fingers and limbs jerked sporadically, disjointed from the mind that controlled them. The creature's last hold was in the black-gummed jaws, snapping and snarling, surrounded by an empty face and dead, greying eyes. One final swipe from Toth drove it out, and the entire body went limp.

A long moment passed, slow as stagnant water.

Breath inflated the lungs, then burst out in the end half of a scream, as Samuel's eyes snapped clear again, full of fear and horror. "G-gods! Fuck! Gods! Fuck!" Sweat, real, clear, salty human sweat, not the inky black grease the other thing extruded, was soaking his body and plastering his silver hair to his forehead. His lost eyes instantly found the woman before him. "Aria? Aria, what h-Haaaahhnnnn!" Samuel jerked and gritted his teeth as the blinding pain of broken ribs, a shattered knee, and an open knife wound in his stomach hit him all at once.
 
As the thing began it's final attempt at maintaining its presence in this world Aria watched in silent horror. It was truly disturbing to see Samuel's body thrash and move so unnaturally, even more so as the black ooze was ripped out of him.

When it was finally gone and the body limp Aria's composure fell. The creature was gone, Samuel had yet to fill his body, and the only things to witness this were his spirits. A sob racked her body and she practically collapsed against the wall. This whole experience had finally caught up with her. She was upset that she had ever stolen his stupid urn, angry at herself for getting caught, upset because of what that thing had done to her, and angry at Samuel, who had said nothing would happen to her. He had said she would be safe, and instead she had spent the last hour dealing with her people's boogeyman.

Her moment to herself ended when she heard the scream. Everything about her went back to being alert. She straightened up against the wall and amber eyes snapped back to carefully watch him. Something else could have filled his body and she wanted to be sure it was him before doing anything.

When he said her name relief flooded her face, but only for a moment before it returned to an angry glare. Samuel was in pain, she could clearly see that. Whatever the creature had done to stitch him back together had left with it. He looked terrible. Though she doubted she looked any better. The woman could barely stand straight because her entire body ached from being thrown around like a rag doll by that thing. Blood stained her shoulder, and there was new knot just below her hair line just where the thing had hit her with Samuel's staff.

Aria took a deep breath before speaking or doing anything else. Her knuckles were still white around the knife and she needed a moment to calm herself down. Her adrenaline was gone and everything hurt. A very dark part of her wanted him to be in pain with her, and wanted to cause more of it. But that part was small and easy to swallow.

She threw the knife so it cut the rope holding his hands up above his head and walked forward to undo the one around his stomach before moving to support him as he came away from the beam. As she worked she spoke,"When you explained all this to me you left out the possibility of an ancient evil taking over your body. What a fun thing to discover all on my own. Nothing I love more than being taken from behind by a creature from my childhood nightmares."
 
Between the white-hot pain in his knee, and the blood bubbling from the wound in his stomach, Samuel sincerely felt that passing out was a viable, comfortable option. As Aria took hold him, he let out a weeze and gurgle of pain, swearing though gritted teeth.
"Shitshitshitfuckshit..." He hissed quietly, before waving at his work bench. "Work bench... can brew a few... potions.... Toth... Toth, Staff, Now, Fuck, Now...." The command lacked it's usual force, it's power, sounding more like a angry plea. Still, Samuel's staff whizzed through the air, into his free hand, carried by the spirit. He put one arm around Aria's shoulder, and used the staff as a crutch, to slowly, painfully make his way over to his tools.

Samuel was a mess. His hands were shaking so badly, he kept spilling thing, measurements were all off, things weren't mixed properly. It was more than just the pain. He was shell-shocked, exhausted. Somewhere inside, he wanted to bitterly snap back at Aria, about how he hadn't known about the danger, how she's only had to deal with one. And only for an hour. He swallowed that, though. This was neither the time nor place to start a fight. And in truth, he didn't he didn't think he had the competency to form any sort of argument.

Instead, he directed his waning focus on the task at hand, getting some healing potions and ointments made. "They weren't supposed to be there. Not that many of them. I think..." Samuel closed his eyes, trying to push through the fog, "I think somebody planned this. Or at least took advantage of it. I think there's another necromancer in the city." His trembling fingers hurriedly went back to work. Being found out was bad. Being found by another necromancer was worse.
 
The elf grunted when he leaned onto her. It wasn't his full weight and he wasn't as heavy as he could be, but she was far from being at her peak performance. Still she was able to help him to the work bench, and once he was seated in front of it she walked back to the beam and yanked the knife from it.

She then walked back to watch him. He was clearly not totally in the right mind to be doing this, and as she glanced down at the knife wound she frowned at the amount of blood flowing from it. Aria regretted ever threatening that thing with the knife. Had she known it would throw himself onto it she wouldn't have done it. It had had no effect. It was a pointless injury. Though she supposed all of them had been pointless, but she had been desperate.

When he mentioned another necromancer she groaned. Part of her wanted to ask if he thought the necromancer knew about her. But she didn't. Now wasn't the time, and she doubted he was concerned about her well-being at the moment. "It mentioned someone else...it said some old man had died...maybe it was Briar...and it said that the urn had been close to breaking."

Looking down at his trembling hands she bit her lip. If she left now he probably wouldn't put up a fuss. Aria could skip town and put this all behind her...but he had helped her and could still help her. Besides this was an experience that wouldn't be easily forgotten. It was probably better to see it through. She placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "Can I help?" The question was general, maybe too general. She meant could she help with his ointments, but also the offer extended past that...though she wasn't explicitly stating that.
 
Samuel didn't flinch when Aria put a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't react well either, pulling away slightly from her touch, fingers curling in to scratch at the table top. He knew full well, she didn't intent to hurt him, that he could trust her, but... paranoia had kept him alive and safe for a long time. And it had been a long time since he'd had contact with someone, something that wasn't purely professional trading.
"I can do this mysel-" He began to hiss through gritted teeth, but stopped, rubbing his brow, and putting a hand over the knife wound, wincing from the pain, but knowing he'd need to keep pressure on it.
There wasn't time to get angry and stupid. And even after everything he'd put her through, Aria was still here, and trying to help at that. She didn't deserve to be snapped at like that.
"... Small bottle, clear looking powdered crystals in it, top shelf over there," he becconed over to a small shelf, over with the other components, "Smelling salts. Just in case." A pause. "... thank you, Aria." Despite the burning pain, Samuel managed to put a touch of sincerity in his voice. Not much, mind you, but still.

He continued to work, grinding a mixture into a coarse paste in a mortar, preparing a bandage. "Skinweaver was telling the truth, and you guessed right, Briar's dead. I saw the... the hole, his soul had left behind, when it passed through. Necromancy, much, much more powerful than mine." He dumped the mixture onto the folded bandage, and selected another to hold it into place. At this point, Samuel was talking simply to keep his mind off of what would happen next.
"Some kind of physical effect, I think. Peeled his skin off, most likely. Probably wearing it, or has something else wearing it."
At this point, Samuel was drooping, slurring his speech. The mixture wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. As he pressed the bandage to the wound, the cauterizing salts made a visible hiss, causing him to convulse, and fall off the bench. A few eternal seconds of white-hot, exploding pain passed before the numbing agents kicked in, and Samuel found himself lying on the floor, his feet still on the bench, staring up at the ceiling, his clear grey eyes dilated.
"Shhiiiiiiittttt...."
 
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