Fantasy Magical Crimes Unit [Closed Group]

[folclor]

"Ah, fuck, didn't think of that." She shook her head. "What about sleeping or pain pills with alcohol? That's a less traumatic death... Could engineer a heart attack... or just risk it and find some priest or something to exorcise me." Those were things, right?

"More meant why do a thing that makes you have to live past your regular life span. Cause I can't think of a reason."

 

[Macabrecabra]

He laughed quietly at that, shaking his head in amusement, "I find it curious that so many think that all undead choose to come back... I drowned and wasn't put to rest so I returned. But once you die once well....the pain is not something I wish to relieve." He grimaced at that, closing his eyes briefly, "As for living a long life...at one-hundred and seventy-six, sometimes you start to look at things differently I suppose."

The jiangshi shrugged, flashing those sharp teeth of his again, "Like you are so set on suicide but you can't name one thing to do tonight that isn't drinking. But know once you are dead and probably risen as an undead with how gloomy your soul is, you'll never get to taste alcohol again. Isn't that one thing to live for? Enjoying the booze and the sweets?"

 

[folclor]

"It's what I do to make things bearable while I'm here," she muttered. "The things that made life worth living aren't here anymore. And one of those things died and didn't come back." She wished he had, though. She could imagine the fun they could've had. "Why'd you drown? Did you want to?"

 

[Macabrecabra]

He chuckled some, "My my, aren't you full of questions," He said, that small smile still on his lips, "Alas no, it was not suicide. I was heading home, herding corpses during a great famine to ensure they would be put to rest. I was crossing a bridge in a storm and there was a flash flood. I was tangled in the lashings and...I drowned, surrounded by the dead."

There was a pause as his voice trailed off, "Then a long period of just existing until after enough feeding I regained senses...barely could move other than hopping. Feeling trapped in my body, hated by others, desperately hungry for souls. Get home and my family left for the cities of the east and I never saw them again."


The smile on his features twisted some as he glanced up, "Sometimes life takes everything away. I just didn't want to give it the satisfaction of breaking me. I came to America and left one lifetime behind and started anew."

 

[folclor]

"You're the one who wanted me to sit with you." She thanked the waitress when the food arrived. "My parents sent me away at every opportunity once my magic surfaced." Well, technically the first place wasn't by choice. "So I know how that feels. You round the corner and there's just that fear in their eyes."

She shook her head. "Feeding can't be the best, though. And, always been curious, can you be around holy things?"

 

[Macabrecabra]

"Like I said, sitting with you makes me feel a little more alive." He chuckled some, glancing down to her food, letting out a soft sigh. Being able to eat anything and taste it was one thing he missed terribly, that was for sure. Sweets in particular, especially now that he knew there were so many he hadn't ever been able to try.

"Parents can be fearful of magic. A pity that you got such a harsh reaction. Sometimes that can create a crippling fear of letting your power go."

At her second question he tilted his head some, shrugging, "Depends on the items. Jiangshi like myself are not bothered by Christian artifacts, but those of Taoist traditions are effective. It is a matter of belief in the legends of old. Why? You considering taking me out?" He teased lightly.

 

[folclor]

"Why do I make you feel more alive?" And she shook her head at the question. "Just curious. Never got to actually sit down and talk to someone like you." She devoured a few chicken wings. "People always think you're so scary. I mean, at the very least you have a good Halloween costume."

 

[Macabrecabra]

"Because you act more dead to the world than me, the actual dead one here." He answered with a chuckle, " And I suppose that is one way to look at it. On the other hand, keeps people from coming around and bothering me while I work. Really though, I don't suck out a soul just because a person breaths in my general direction. Honestly you should see the new recruits trying to talk to me while holding their breath." He gave a slight roll of his eyes, "One of them is going to just pass out trying to pull that trick off."

He paused, watching her eat, "So how do wings taste? They were invented far after the time I died and it seems people love to eat them by the bucket load..."

 

[folclor]

"Eh, some people like to scare 'em. They tell stories before the first day about the spooky undead man who lives in the morgue." She blinked at the question. "Well... have you had chicken before?" She wasn't sure. Where was he from? Most places had chickens, she thought.

 

[Macabrecabra]

"Oh I have, but I was born over one hundred seventy-six years ago," He pointed out, chuckling some, "The ways of preparing chicken have changed over the centuries...and during a great famine." He leaned back in his seat some, regarding the woman, "And it has been a very long time. I think I've forgotten what chicken tastes like....the soul of chicken I suppose has a taste of its own, but I don't think that comes with a garlic seasoning."

 

[folclor]

"Mmm... Well, it's like chicken but with grease and... well... these have crunchy shells of a mixture of seasoning and flour and stuff. Uh... yeah, sorry, I am terrible at this." It was a bit awkward. If she'd known she was tormenting a dead man by eating in front of him she wouldn't have done it. "So... um... souls have tastes?"

 

[Macabrecabra]

"They do. Animal souls...not really but human souls...have a taste depending on their moods, how they lived their lives." He cleared his throat some, "But I haven't had to feed off a human in a long time, not since the days in the wild west where no one really...cared what happened to desperado trying to knife you..."

Those had been very different days certainly but he had remained clean about eating only animals despite the absolute lack of "taste" to them. "But don't feel like you are causing me some great pain. You aren't the first human that has eaten in front of me and won't be the last. I merely get curious time to time." He paused, starting to change the subject, "So you mentioned magic. What sort of elements have you found work best with you?"

 

[folclor]

"Can you tell how a human will taste just by their mood or something? I'd probably taste foul, then." She almost wanted to ask him to eat her, though. That'd be pretty nice.

"Mostly... erm... lightning. Some minor telekinesis, but mostly just the lightning. Almost killed a kid when it activated, too. So... yeah." She let a slight electrical current flow through her fingers and dissipate. "Actually have a permanent dampener carved in, so can't do more than... well, just what I did there when it comes to lightning now."

 

[Macabrecabra]

"Still, it is impressive. In my homeland when I was alive, those with magical talents were held in the highest regard. Most were taken away to live with the monks and hone their talents....lighting and fire in particular." He chuckled some. "It was said dragons even were mentors to young mages."

He looked about the bar and all that was going on before glancing to Ciel, "I can tell yes. Life force has an aura to it and yours...yours seems bitter yes, but there is a lot more to it under the surface." Qiūhé moved to sit up then, letting out a soft hum, "You are perhaps the one person who asked the most questions about my eating habits. Most learn I suck on souls and want to run for the hills."

 

[folclor]

She shrugged. "Dragons are pretty interesting, but I've never met one." Ciel rolled her sleeve up slightly to show where the ritual scarring started on her left wrist. "People get scared. And it makes sense. I might be scared, too, if I wasn't like this. But if I wasn't like this I wouldn't even be here. Might be some bubbly housewife somewhere." No, she didn't have it in her to be that.

"Well, maybe they're scared to die." She wasn't. Obviously there was undeath, but no one talked about afterlives. If there was an afterlife then she might actually see her lover again. More than likely there wasn't. More than likely she'd die and be faced with nothing. And she'd feel, hear, see, think... nothing. It'd just end. And that wasn't so bad.

 

[Macabrecabra]

"Death isn't something I would highly recommend and I think it is our nature to fear that which we don't understand or can't control fully." He moved then to rise to his feet, tilting his head, "You want to take a walk about the block? The night is not so chilly and perhaps a change of atmosphere will liven up your soul a bit." He suggested, giving a tilt of his head as he moved to pull the scarf up over his nose to mask his teeth and deathly pallor, allowing him to walk without anyone being to aware he was one of the undead.

"At the very least, I'm an extra pair of hands if you are going to insist on buying booze enough to last you the entire weekend."

 

[folclor]

She blushed. He'd seen through her on that one. "I... yeah, sure." She got the rest of her food packed up in to go containers. "My soul won't liven, though. So it's kind of pointless on that note."

 

[Macabrecabra]

"Oh you never know. Life passes in the blink of an eye and eventually you just get...tired of being the world's punching bag." He responded, making sure to leave a generous tip for the waitress before shoving his hands back into his pocket and heading towards the door.

Outside, out of the light and into the night proper, his eyes gained a slight glow to them, making them even more arresting and giving him more an unnatural, otherworldly appearance.He waited for her at the door, taking in the night life idly, although it seemed few were out in the chilled air.

 

[folclor]

She followed after, keeping her head down as they went. "I'm not life's punching bag, you know." Just tired of fighting. And she didn't see herself as such a dramatic character, but she was viewed that way by others.

 

[Macabrecabra]

"Then you are the doormat?" He asked, tilting his head, "Or just need some time to recharge because you are tired and wish you were able to crawl into a coffin and sleep like the dead?"

He glanced up, closing his eyes as he felt a cold breeze come, washing over him," Mmm... the night is a pleasant one. Cold. Quiet. A little thing to enjoy..."

 

[folclor]

"No." She kicked a pebble down the sidewalk. "I don't know what I need. Just know it isn't constant company. And I can't let you in my house. It's too messy." House? No. She'd downsized to a studio apartment after a certain someone passed away.

 

[Macabrecabra]

"So I'm to stand in the hallway while you drape yourself awkwardly in the doorway of your home to hide the mess from me as we chat idly over scotch whiskey and peppermint schnapps?" He asked, amusement tinging his voice. "Please. A mess won't bother me. I've probably sat in worse shanties in my time than yours."

A chuckled escaped him as he glanced to her, arching an eyebrow, "But if your place doesn't work for company, you are certainly welcomed to crash at my humble abode." Qiūhé paused thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "To be honest, I can't remember when the last time I was home. I've been pulling a few late nights working in the forensics lab."

 

[folclor]

"What? You're expecting we're going to spend the night together?" She arched an eyebrow. "Why?" Though it would be hilarious to watch such a proper man try to make his way through the tiny pathways in her apartment, she felt a pang of guilt at the state of her place.

 

[Macabrecabra]

“I’m helping to carry your booze surplus tonight, I at least get a ten minute sit down in your place.” He returned with a chuckle. “But if we are being honest? Any company would be nice... rather gloomy anniversary tonight. I promise I won’t talk too much and be gone in the hour,”

She had been the only person to really speak to him and not immediately take off running on the grounds of being one of the undead that fed on souls.

 

[folclor]

He wanted company. "Don't expect much..." She saw the liquor store ahead. "Some people who die traumatically don't come back, you know. I wish there were people who did. I won't say you're lucky. That'd probably be a lie. But you got to come back after not wanting to die."