Sirensong

"Awaken. You must awaken and heed my call, for we are one. You, and I." Opening his eyes Anekhmet lifted a paw to his forehead. "Where are you...?" he said, half dazed as he surveyed his surroundings. As the son of two Egyptian immortals, it was peculiar to see him outside his sandy homeland. His tawny red fur and golden jewelry glowing like the many fireflies that buzzed around him. Where was he? The land around him was thick with the smell of musk, as large towers of wood loomed over him, shafts of sunlight piercing their tattered coverings. The shrill buzzing of mosquitoes prompting his paw to smack the back of his neck, "Mortal's blood, what is this place?!" he said, gazing at the crushed insect in his paw.

Idly, he felt around his back, making sure his blades were still held firmly in place as he ran his free paw along the bark of a tree, letting the moss gather under his claws. Unfamiliar with the dampness of such a place. "Come hither..." the voice beckoned. "W-what? Show yourself!" Anekhmet clutched the hilt of a blade, as he crouched slightly. "You are but an extension of my will. I have many plans for you..." The voice seemed to trail off into the distance, as Anekhmet was left with only his curiosity, letting it pull him through the woods, after whatever it was that called for him.

With every passing moment the voice returned, beckoning calls of need, and the wanting of destruction. "Show yourself!" he roared, blades drawn as he leaped off a small cropping of stones. His eyes darted from one tree to the next, to no avail. "I am no-ones pawn! Now show yourself coward, have you no spine?!" He took a few more steps forward, catching his eyes on something. Ahead was a small girl, human in nature. Fearless, Anekhmet set his solid golden eyes on it and made heavy strides, ready for a rough interrogation.

 

Vespers of an ancient song ran through his mind... the inky blackness was all that he knew, all that he could feel, all that he could see... He was lost wihtin himself, and for that, he knew that he might be gone forever. He saw nothing, he knew nothing, and he felt nothing. The fact that there was something else keeping him from simply disappearing, though, made him more than the nothing he emanated, though it was not like he knew the difference. Truly, he was content being when and where he was, though the foreign song grew louder. It had voices that were out of a world a mortal might live in; the beauty was something to behold, and yet, there was something more wrong about it than he first realized. Yes... there was more than nothing here... in fact, it was almost as if there were something. Something.

Light poured in, though hazy at first, things began to come into focus, and as they did, he opened his eyes, at least, what he thought were his eyes. He knew that there should not have been anything else for him to see because there was nothing. But then, now, there was something... a world of green. The smell of earth brought him home. This was where he belonged, and yet, there was something ... off... about this place. It was almost as if this were too good to be true.

He stood, and looked around on the floor. As he stood, the things of himself began to liven up once more, and with them came this dark desire, an imperative that filled his entire essence, to the point that this was all he could think about. Voices filled his head, now, ones that were different than the choir that sung in the back burners of his thoughts. They spoke, to him and him alone, though it was as if they were everywhere, and this frightened him.'

They were telling him to kill, telling him to take this for the greater good, to make this green world his. He didn't want to lose this green paradise that he had found; he was at home, but alas, without his approval, he stood and began walking forward. The voices became louder as did the singing which moved him, and before he knew it, he was gone again, only this time, he was silently watching himself act upon no accord. A smile came across the face of the phantom body called Hephaestus, and with it came a deep, echoing laugh. The mind of the hive was too strong for whatever being had been in its place.

They had won.

As the body walked forward, it witnessed a red dog of sorts, and it was yelling to itself about something that Hephaestus could have cared less about; however, there was a sense of direction that perhaps either the dog could give him or the girl who was looking up at it that he was missing. The smile not leaving his face, he stood away from the two and just watched, planning to use the knowledge that he might glean to his advantage. There was nothing better to do, right?

 

Four canine eyes opened only to perceive perpetual gloom. Fluid darkness drove like traffic around the hound, jostling his corporeal form this way and that, endlessly shoving his startled body along an avenue devoid of light. 'What is this...' the thought flashed through his mind as his wits raced to catch up with his sudden relocation. 'How did I get here?!' Experimentally, he swiped out with a paw, and then did so again. He began treading his paws back and forth through the viscous sea of a void, resisting the current long enough for his senses to catch up. Foremost among them was an instinct which tugged at his consciousness, urging him to let go and allow the undertow to take him where it may. 'The Master's beckon,' the hound realized, something close to a feeling of happiness or gratitude welling up. Dropping all resistance, the dog let himself get swept off in the darkness' tide as, for what felt like the first time in a long while, clarity began dawning on his mind.

Soon enough the hound felt himself evicted from the shadowy channel, the entire world turning directly onto its opposite axis as he was dumped out into a nighttime sky. Wryly the dog realized his position, and instinctively flexed the muscles across his back. 'No wings anymore...' he remembered, bracing grimly for the collision as he dropped to the ground far beneath. He tensed his legs, knowing that rolling on impact would translate to less pain. Paws touching the ground after moments of anticipation, he tried to roll his body in the way he usually had, but instead slammed onto his side. Reigning in his breath hoarsely, the large black canine regained his composure and rose to his feet. 'And neither have I gotten used to this body yet...'

Shaking his heads and entire form, the hound shrugged off any lingering pain or shock and took in his environment. It was a forested area, filled with the nocturnal buzz of insects and the fresh smell of nature that the two-headed dog hadn't experienced in a long while. Around him lay several unconscious figures, which he regarded only for a moment before taking in more of the surroundings. Despite being in a clearing, light was oddly sparse on the ground the large hound trod over. Glancing upward with one set of eyes, he observed the foreboding wall of a cloud above them. 'Surely something to do with the Nether,' he noted, nodding one of his heads in a contented manner. He stepped onto a path leading into the distance. 'Surely something to do for the Nether.'

The canine felt surprisingly at peace despite the spontaneous course of events he had been forced into. After a month-- entire weeks of torturous nothing, no purpose, no goal, no directive-- spent merely wandering the Nether and trying to gain information, his Master had finally called on him. 'I will serve you,' the dog responded ambitiously to the instinct inside him, all eyes narrowing in a determined fashion on the road ahead. 'If this is the order, then so it shall be. I will force this world into assimilation just as my own world was.'

Faintly the hound detected a noise. Further along the trail he was on currently, emanating from a tall wooden structure, was the repetitive sound of footsteps. An urge swelled up in the beast as a response; a dark strain of an impulse driving him to break like hell after the prospect of prey, rip them from their places among the living, and taint the resulting vacancy with the essence of the Nether. As this instinct began quarreling with his rationality, another sound overtly introduced itself, coming from the clearing behind him.

"Show yourself!" an unfamiliar voice shouted. The hound glared back at the source of the noise in disgust. 'One of those people must have woken up,' he considered disdainfully, breaking into a brisk stride back towards the group of unconscious beings he had left behind. It was odd, the dog noticed peripherally, that he hadn't gotten the same destructive urge upon seeing them as he had just recently experienced. Drawing closer, he saw a bipedal canine with red fur advancing menacingly on the form of a young humanoid girl. 'Tell me they aren't...'

"What," the two-headed beast verbalized in a dire tone, "do you think you're doing?" Each pair of eyes focused on a different person with each stern glance, although he had addressed the red canine who had obviously been making the clamor. Nothing he saw impressed him, but once again neither did he feel the same instinct to bring about ruin.

'Tell me these aren't my comrades...'

 

"Ahkookibakyaaaaaaa!"

Beauty! Power! Grace!

The three characteristics of the one. The only…

Basilike Melpomene!

These were precisely the thoughts going through the head of self–styled Queen of Drama as she hurtled through the air, savouring the sharp minty freshness of the atmosphere. It was strange, but she had mild recollection and consciousness whilst falling out of the hole in the sky—perhaps it was her tendency to zone out and direct grandiose and elaborate scenes in her head using the voices in her head and the people around her that caused her to ignore completely the mesmerising power of said voices… whatever the case may have been, she remembered being shoved into one of those glowing, shimmering holes, and appearing on the other side—a good couple of kilometres above the ground, amidst a brilling blue sky with birds flapping about screeching their bloody heads off, making her unable to focus on the charisma of the sky—what a wonderful world as may be a stage for my plays!

About now, she realised she was falling down with a 9.8 metre–per–second–square acceleration, very imminently about to crash. A scream escaped her lips, but then she decided very promptly: the bards of this world, they shall sing of the Mystery of Melpomene, how a beautiful young lady crashed to her demise from high up in the sky, with no explanation as to how she got there! Very smugly, she bent the laws of physics, changing position midair to one that appeared as if she were sitting on a couch made of aether. Certainly would a tragedy be to her taste—after all, it's what she'd studied her whole life, the respectable art of conducting tragedies.

When she managed to connect with the ground, however, she was gravely disappointed—something had cushioned her fall fifty or so metres above the surface of the earth—the power of those voices, perhaps?—and promptly disappeared, dropping her once more, letting the ground give her a big kiss. Still, when she got up and saw a largish gash on her arm, she was nonetheless pleased by the chain of events. Myeheheh… perhaps we can see to the making of a tragedy after all. As she thought this, the voices returned to her in full force, ululating their agreement. Sotto voce! You do not make for a good addition, O rancorous audience.

She proceeded gingerly, but with almost a graceful stride, yet a malefic leer rendered her face a gruesome sight. Somehow, she knew she would be joined by company—perhaps the voices had told her this before; perhaps it was just a sixth sense. She could hear one of them, even, raving like a head case. Excellent character, a perfect addition that would spice up the scene… Thinking thus, she proceeded to the clearing from where she could hear the growling and raging, and stood next to a tree, stroking the fine mahogany, as she gazed sternly and attentively at the red dog–man hybrid who was advancing upon a young girl, and the two–headed dog that was baying at the dog–man. Slowly, the evil smirk returned to her face once more.

Mmm… yes, yes! I see it now—the poor young girl is eaten alive by the man–beast, and the dog shall eat him afterwards—the perfect crime! Indeed, how considerate these beings are! How beautifully they compose the story of life!

 

One look and you'd feel secure. Such a bright looking individual. For all the world she looked like your lovey-dovey priestess ready to save the innocents. Despite the slightly menacing mostly black dress-robe that adorned her figure, you could easily see her for the caring type. The kind of person you would trust your injured friend to. The image of a saving, angelic being ready to revive your fallen loved one. The very image of light. Then you see those eyes. You look into those dark, gray-blue eyes and see the disdain and malice. A single glance into that dark ocean of pain and you would immediately move on to the next healer; find another angel. And you would be right in doing so.

Even now as Nita Ataie stood with her back against a large tree for support, her disdain for those very types of do-gooder people seemed to emanate from her silent figure. While senseless violence was not entirely her forte, she never could stomach those heroic types. Always trying to save everyone only to either fail or die themselves. Strength is the means to survive, not kindness. So of course, her new line of work wasn't too bad. At least the living would be a united group. Of a sorts.

Nita let out a light sigh as voices began to echo into her ears. Most likely more rabble. At first she ignored the voices, only to ultimately decide she at least find out what kind of rabble they were. The kind for healing.

Or the kind for killing.

Moving casually, yet deliberately, she stepped into the vision of the certainly unique group that had formed. Not bothering to make her presence known, she simply gave them a bored look as she rested against a new tree. A bit smaller than the last one was, but it would suffice.