RP:Born This Way

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

Summary: After a bloody fight with Karasu near the Whaler's Bar, a gravely wounded Quintessa makes her way to the Tranquility for help. Both Lennier, the ship's healer, and Khitti attend to the changeling, and the two find out that she's definitely not a vampire. Somehow, despite the lie, things seemingly go well for strange girl from Vailkrin's Black Pond and her bond with Khitti gets a little stronger (albeit with a lot of emotional confusion for both Quintessa -and- Khitti).

The Tranquility, Cenril Wharf

Quintessa had not yet made it down the wharf to reach the Tranquility when her spell faded. As smoke fills the western night sky behind her, the changeling paints the stone path beneath her dark with her crimson blood. The lime-green threads of her false life spell were eroding, breaking apart, and fizzling into nothingness, causing wounds all across her arms and legs split open. Her knees buckle under the strain of her own weight as she draws closer and closer. Left foot, right foot. Quintessa is so close! She's almost there! A final stumble leaves her hitting the ground of the wharf hard, the katana she held clattering loudly as she collapses at the foot of the gang plank. The young spellcaster's vision fades as she reaches up for the Tranquility, her delicate fingers outstretched as she breathes out one final word. "Khitti..." Quintessa slumps still, her hand dropping to the wharf as a puddle of blood forms around her. It was one hell of a way to drop in on somebody but Quintessa didn't really have a choice tonight. Would the Cenril guards have taken mercy on her? Ain't nobody got time for that, and Quintessa especially couldn't afford to take that kind of chance. Khitti, unfortunately, was about to have whatever day she was having completely turned upside-down.

Khitti had been quite aware of some sort of commotion going on in the city, but she’d no time to check it out. The customers in her bakery, however, were talking about it endlessly, but there had been no time to talk to them either! Paperwork had eaten up all of her time at work that day and once she finished, it was time to get home to that husband and son of hers. Khitti’d been on her way out the door when Victoria called to her, “Don’t forget your cheesecake!”, and Khitti was forced to double back -and then- finally leave. The redhead eyed the dark smoke as she wandered through the merchant district to the wharf, a brow raised at the billowing black clouds. Shouldn’t the fire be out already? What the hell were the people at the firehouse doing? Sitting on their asses playing cards? Khitti shook her head and sighed, keeping a close eye on the ground so she didn’t trip and fall face first into the box that held Brand’s favorite strawberry cheesecake. That eagle-eyed stare of hers allowed her to spot the blood trail, her stomach turning in knots. Maybe… it was just fruit punch? Some sort of other red drink? Maybe some kid had wandered past here heading to the beach and spilled their drink along the way? No. Khitti knew what it was and bending down to stick her finger into it, and even taste it (old vampire habits die hard apparently), confirmed her suspicions. Well… there was nothing she could do about it. Khitti had already put in her day’s work. She’d just let the guards deal with it. They would deal with it, right? As fate would have it, the blood trail led all the way to the Tranquility, and Khitti was unsure of whether to let her fear or her anger take hold. Was it Brand? Dozla? Did Jessamine and James finally officially make it over here? Her slow pace quickly hastened into a run until she came to a stop mere feet away from Quintessa.

Khitti || Oh no. Ohhhhh no. Memories of Khitti flopping over half-dead out of an emergency portal and onto the floor in the ship’s dining area. The pool of blood that surrounded her. “Quintessa?!” The memories were shoved away elsewhere as she dropped the cheesecake and ran to the changeling, one red substance joining the other on the ground. “‘Tessa!” Khitti shook her a little, then eyed her wounds. “Goddamn it…” She had no choice but to take her aboard and so she did, scooping the girl up and shadowstepping into the ship and onto the first level, just below the top deck. “LENNIER! Someone find Lennier NOW!” Tired from a full day’s work, Khitti struggled to keep her student in her arms, the blood that seeped from the girl making things so much worse. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the ship’s healer, a tall bald elf named Lennier showed up and led Khitti to the medical room. As they went, Khitti stopped another of Brand’s crewmembers, telling them to tell Brand about the new situation and that it wasn’t her for once, and that she’d deal with it. He needed to keep an eye on that kid of theirs after all.

Quintessa can feel herself sinking into a dark, cold oblivion. Her limbs were all going numb and the sounds of the ocean seemed farther and farther away. She didn't even realize that she had stopped breathing. Somewhere in there, in the corners of her mind, Quintessa still was holding on, a tiny spark of consciousness dwindling until Khitti's voice calling her name snapped her back to reality. The changeling sucks in a long breath of air, like someone who had been submerged underwater for far too long as she weakly clung to her teacher. "Sorry..." Quintessa manages to mutter, blood still dripping down her chin from her mouth. Before she knows it she is in some kind of medical bay, the world still swirling around her like a cyclone as they lay her upon a bed or operating table. Now that she felt she was safe the pain was really setting in, the adrenaline only lasting as long as your heart had blood to pump it. The tall doctor looks over the changeling while Khitti informs the crew and the thought of her beating heart brings a sense of dread over the phony vampire. Quintessa's secret would be clear as day for anyone with even a little bit of medical knowledge, much less an elven doctor and the former vampire that employed him. "Elazul's Bite..." she curses, trying to think about how she was going to explain herself. After all this time perhaps Khitti deserved the truth?

Khitti || “Sh-she’s a vampire, Lennier,” Khitti said, trying her hardest not to freak out, but it’s plainly obvious she was failing. “Where do you keep the blood? It’s been ages since I’ve needed it.” The ever-polite elf went about his work, assessing Quintessa’s wounds as he shook his head, “I’ve not kept blood on the ship in quite some time, ma’am. There was never a need for it, after you died. I… don’t think it’ll be needed, however.” Khitti too shook her head, crimson brows furrowed with confusion and anger as she snapped at him. “What do you mean it won’t be needed?!” In the midst of pulling up her cardigan’s sleeve, the redhead looked down at the Dragana girl. He was right… she wouldn’t need it. She wasn’t anymore of a vampire than Khitti was. “You…” Khitti couldn’t find the words to voice her realization. It was not often she was silent about things and Lennier knew full well that it wasn’t usually a good thing when she was. In an attempt to clear the air and get back to the task at hand, Lennier reached over Quintessa and the metal table she was on, grabbing Khitti’s arm, “You and I have been through this before. You know what I need to do. I need -you- to get her a blanket so I can remove her clothing and keep her warm. And I need you to be calm. I know it’s not easy for you, after all the things we’ve talked about, after all that I’ve seen you go through, but I need you to do it -now-.” Lennier’s soft, yet demanding tone shook Khitti to her core. Not once had he spoken to her like that in all these years he worked for Brand. Moments passed as Khitti stared at first his hand, and then the elf himself. Pale lips twisted into a frown as she nodded and scurried away for a moment, tearing into a cabinet for some thick woolen blankets, while tears brimmed those olive-green eyes. Lennier sighed heavily, returning his attention now to his unfamiliar patient. “I have to remove your clothing now, in order to fix you up. Okay? But, you’re safe here. Many a time Khitti has been in that exact spot you’re in now and I’ve tended to her wounds for the past four years. I’m the only one she trusts with this and I hope that you will too, now,” the elf said as he prepared his small cart of medical supplies with thick thread, a sterilized needle, some sort of herbal concoction in a jar, and several rolls of bandages and thick pieces of gauze.

Quintessa listens to them speak, her eyelids almost too heavy to lift off her eyes as the truth of her ruse becomes known. Quintessa winces, but not at the pain from her physical wounds. This strange guilt was something the normally amoral girl had scarcely felt before. The words she wanted to say to Khitti fill Quintessa's mind in a muddling, frantic mess. How was she going to explain that her entire legacy was built off the back of a lie? Maintaining it had become such second nature that it didn't even feel like a lie anymore, it was routine. "Sorry..." is all the changeling manages to say before her mismatched eyes fall upon Lennier and she gives him a weak nod to consent to the treatment. Once they got her clothes off they'd see that Karasu's whip-like sword had really done a number on Quintessa. The gashes that decorate her body were deep, but none of them individually fatal. The hex blade had a reckless way of fighting but she always managed to avoid the really serious blows. Still, death from a thousand cuts is still death and Quintessa had been brought pretty closely to the threshold. Sitting in numb silence, the changeling stares at the ceiling as they work on her, trying to ignore the pain as stoically as she can maintain before whispering out, "Do you have milk of the poppy...?" That would certainly take the edge off.

Khitti returned finally with the blankets as Lennier finished cutting Quintessa’s clothes off. She tried not to look at the wounds that littered the girl’s form, but utterly failed at that too. She wondered if this is how she looked that day, after Emrith had attacked her and Larewen, and she too was bleeding all over the galley’s nice, booze-soaked tables. “Khitti, after you put the blankets on her, go get the milk of the poppy from that cupboard over there,” Lennier said, pointing to his left. “The one with Mr. Rochester’s logo on it.” Callum…? And milk of the poppy? Oh. Right. Meri had told her about that. Khitti did as she was asked, uncorking the bottle to give Quintessa a sip, “Not too much. It’s much stronger than what I typically keep.” The elf went to work when ready, taking up some of the goop in the jar and slathering it all over Quintessa’s wounds. For a few moments it would burn, the antiseptic properties of the calendula and thyme oil within starting the healing process, the cloves and capsaicin working with the milk of the poppy to numb the pain more directly. When that was finished, Lennier would take up the needle and thread, sewing up the changeling where it was required, working quickly, while trying not to harm her further. For Khitti’s part in all of this, all she could do was watch, waiting for another command from the healer. Her fingers twitched idly at her sides, eager to do something, -anything-, but nothing further was asked of her. She wasn’t even sure if she should comfort Quintessa, if she even needed it at all. Or maybe it was Khitti that needed comforting, after all those memories flooded back. Memories of Emrith’s betrayal. Flashes of the necromancers that had experimented on her. Bits and pieces of the night she got the recipe for her cure from Facilier, and the deep gash from elbow to wrist on the inside of her left arm that the Shadow Plane’s High Priest of Vakmathras had created, in an effort to siphon magic from the well that had been found in her arm when she was just a child. Memories that always surfaced at the worst moments.

Quintessa knew the dangers of over-using this medication, so she sips sparingly. She wanted the pain not to be so bad, not eliminate it completely. There might be something else the changeling needed to point out that would be missed if she couldn't feel it. So far, the application was well within what the Acerbitor would find suitable for her constitution. Even after being anesthetized, Quintessa winces at the needlework, trying hard not to move as she's stitched up. After a moment her body has stabilized, no longer fighting to survive, and the changeling's mismatched eyes spy Khitti lost in her memories. "Hey..." the student addresses her teacher, "You were right all along," she smirks in spite of herself before continuing. "Quintessa Dragana is a fraud." The words echoed specifically from Khitti at the Red Skull Arena.

Khitti stared down at the metal table, just near Quintessa’s hand as the elf worked. It took a moment, but eventually the changeling’s words would reach her ears and stir her enough to actually look at the girl. Crimson brows furrowed again as she studied her and the smirk that had followed her words. She -had- said that, hadn’t she? What a hypocrite she’d been then. “Hush,” Khitti finally said at length. Her hands raised to take Quintessa’s own beside her, but hesitated. Would it be cold like before? Would it be warm? If she was not a vampire, then what -was- she? Questions for another time, the redhead supposed. After a heavy sigh, Khitti finally did take her hand and squeezed it with both of hers, lightly kneading her thumbs into the top of the girl’s appendage, in much the same way Brand had with Khitti, whenever she was injured. “Don’t listen to me. I’m a hypocrite. Always trying to be something I’m not. Trying to convince people… and myself,” she said, echoing her own thoughts. “When Lennier’s done, we’ll move you into my old room just down the hall and when you’re feeling a little better, I’ll take you to my apartment above the bakery, and you can rest there… so you don’t have to stay on the ship any longer than needed.” It wasn’t worded in such a way that Khitti was kicking her off the ship. That wasn’t a decision for her to make anyway; she wasn’t the captain. Instead, her tone suggested that she remembered how much Quintessa hated the sea. As Khitti talked, Lennier was just finishing up. More salve was added on top of the stitches, and then bandages to soak up any residual bleeding. “I could send someone to get some clothes for you from Vailkrin? Or, I suppose you could just borrow some of mine… When you’re ready anyway.”

Quintessa wants to snicker when Khitti tells her to hush but just the thought of laughing right now was painful. Instead she smiles like a little imp, her eyes drifting away as her fingers curl around her mentor's hand. Quintessa's hand was warm, like a human, but there was something very distinctly inhuman about the strange girl. Something off. The changeling's impish smile shifts to one more inviting as she looks Khitti in the eyes. "I have to listen to you," she protests weakly, "I'm still rubbish at the Black Tides- who else is going to teach me?" Quintessa knows very well that wasn't what Khitti meant by that. A moment goes by that Quintessa doesn't speak, the thoughts of what she would do from here lingering in her mind. "I'm sure you have some clothes that will fit me." she finally says before trying to swallow the lingering flavor of the medicine in her dry mouth. "...Do you have any water?"

Khitti tried to resist the smirk that wanted to surface when Quintessa spoke, but couldn’t quite do it. When water was asked for, Khitti merely nodded, gave her hand a squeeze and released it. “Lennier, can you take her to the room? I’ll be there momentarily. I’m going to get her water and explain to Brand real quick.” Lennier nodded, “Yes, ma’am,” and reached down to scoop up Quintessa in his arms just as Khitti had, when she was ready, taking care to not pop open her fresh stitches and making sure that the blankets remained in their place as she was carried. She’d soon find herself in a minimally furnished room, with a bed, small washroom, and a single chair and table. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about, with regards to your secret, Miss Quintessa. If anyone is going to understand it would be her. And no one will hear it from me either. Plenty of secrets kept on this ship, so one more one hurt,” the elf said as he laid her down onto the bed. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you tonight, but in the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be just down the hall, miss.” With that said, Lennier would give Quintessa a bow of his head before taking his leave. Meanwhile, Khitti went and found Brand, and dragged his cute ass into their sound-proofed bedroom. There’d be no sexy times, of course. No, this instance of privacy was filled with tears and much freaking out from Khitti. Quintessa almost died. She’s not even a vampire. He had to keep his mouth shut on that though, but Brand was well acquainted with the secret-keeping; he was a former assassin after all. The most important part was the feelings that were stirred in Khitti when she realized it was a real possibility that the girl might pass on. It wasn’t anything romantic (if anyone else got those sorts of feelings from her besides Brand, it’d be that damned mermaid), but they were there nevertheless. The whole thing lasted no more than five minutes, oddly enough. It had been long enough, at least, for Khitti to get all of those emotions out, take a couple shots of whiskey from the stash in their quarters, and go and get Quintessa’s water. And maybe a pint of whiskey for her too. The booze was aplenty on the ship and no one would miss the pint from the galley. She eventually returned to the deck she’d been on before, and headed to the room Quintessa now occupied, “Got your water and… something a bit stronger, in case you want it.” Khitti pulled the lone table over next to the bed, placing a pitcher of water, a glass, and the pint bottle on top of it, and soon after pouring the girl a glass. The redhead looked no different than she had before. Maybe a little calmer? She certainly didn’t look like she had a brief mental breakdown just minutes ago.

Quintessa holds a lithe hand to Lennier's chest to steady herself as he carries her to the room, her eyes slowly taking in the journey there. One she was on the bed she rested her head back, letting the buzzing feeling of the milk of the poppy fill her brain. "Are you guys pirates?" she blurts out, "That would be awesome- I can keep your secrets too." The elven doctor would probably know better than to take these questions too seriously before he left, the girl giving him a weak salute in return to his bow. After a moment of being alone, Quintessa drifted into a light sleep, only waking when the door creaked open again and her eyes fluttered open. "Oh, thank you!" she says, taking the glass of water and sipping it slowly. The last time Quintessa was this thirsty she was exploring the Nameless Desert. This was beyond refreshing. Once her thirst was quenched she places the glass on the table and leans back, blue and hazel eyes falling upon Khitti. "So," she begins, looking a bit guilty, "I'll explain the whole thing if you want. From the beginning. It's a really long story though."

Khitti sat down at the foot of the bed, wringing her hands somewhat before forcing herself to stop. “I’m not going to force you to tell me, Quintessa. If you want me to know, then you can tell me. If you do not, then…” She let her words trail off and shrugged, knowing the girl would know how the sentence ended. “You’re not the only non-vampire to live in that house, and if Larewen ever comes back, I’m sure you won’t be the last. I was still human when I started living there, years ago. What I want to know -right now- is who did this to you, why, and where they’re at.” The last sentence was stern, her anger threatening to swallow her up again, but she kept it at bay for now. “And if you do not tell me, then I will find them on my own. Cenril is a big place, with a lot of people, and I have my ways of finding things out when it’s needed.” Olive-green eyes finally shifted towards Quintessa, taking her in as the girl stared back at her. “I won’t tolerate stuff like this. Not anymore.”

Quintessa felt a sliver of ice form in her stomach when Khitti got stern with her and the young scholar knew there would be no hiding this from her. "It was Karasu-" she blurts out, "But don't hurt her! She's alone and confused... What happened tonight was just as much my fault as it was hers." There is a hint of desperation in her voice. A hint of pleading. A moment goes by before she speaks again, not wanting to let on too much of the tangled web of backroom politics she was involved with at the Xalious Mage's Tower. "We ran into each other by the Whaler and she thought I was trying to capture her or something- I'm not sure yet. Give me time and I'll get to the bottom of it." Quintessa's mismatched eyes drift over the bottle of alcohol, her hand reaching out for it slowly. "The fire... was a bit excessive but there's not much to be done about it now..."

Khitti watched as Quintessa’s demeanor shifted into desperation and sighed heavily once the explanation was given. “I have heard whisperings about her disappearance from some of the students at the Mage’s Guild library, but that’s it. I… try to stay away from people there as much as I can. I only trust you and Odhranos, out of everyone at the tower.” Trusting mages was rather difficult at times for Khitti. She was always looking over her shoulder there, wondering, waiting for when one of them might kidnap her and the experiments that had been done to her as a teen would be allowed to resume by new people. “Just be careful with all of this, okay? I won’t always be there to save you, even if I’d like to be. You and I both know there’s so many people out there that can’t be trusted. And I’ve got my own problems to take care of too.” Another sigh escaped from the redhead, as she rubbed her eyes. “Just…” Khitti hesitated, not entirely sure of what to say. “Just try to stay safe… I’ll have a key made up for you, for the apartment, if you wish. Very few have it, people I trust, so you’d have somewhere to rest if you needed it and you likely wouldn’t be disturbed.”

Quintessa uncorks the bottle and brings it to her lips, nodding her head along as Khitti tells her what little she knows about what's going on. "You're right to be cautious," the young woman says, returning the pint to the table as she sits back again. "But I can't back out of what I've got going on there I-" she stops again, her voice caught in her throat for a moment. "I'll be careful. I promise." Quintessa at least sounds sincere when she makes this promise that she likely can't keep. "And thank you... I can extend the same hospitality for you in Vailkrin at Dragana Manor, but I'm not sure if you ever want to haunt those halls again. If I'm wrong, and you ever want to visit, you'll always be welcomed by my regime. You have more right to be there than I ever will."

Khitti || “I suppose I might as well, since I’m often in Vailkrin of late. I had gotten the idea in my head to ask Bradyn if I might stay at House Mahara… perhaps even as a part of the House itself, but I’m always quickly reminded of his attitude towards me. I doubt he’d let me leave that house alive, if he actually accepted,” Khitti smirked somewhat, shaking her head. She eyed the bottle Quintessa had just set down and quickly snatched it up, taking a small swig for herself. “So if you’re not a vampire… then what are you? Not that it matters. Sometimes I have to ask myself similar questions most days. ‘Who are you and what have you become?’ ‘Why do you do the things that you do?’ ‘Why can’t you just be normal?’ ‘Why can’t you just sit at home with your kid like a good wife and stop getting into trouble?’ ‘Why hasn’t Brand murdered me in my sleep yet?’” Khitti didn’t want to change the subject back to the subject of the girl’s race, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. “See? Lots of questions. Lots of questions I never have answers to.” There’s another smirk, and another drink of whiskey, before she recorked it and returned it to its place on the table.

Quintessa gives Khitti a cheeky smile as she names question after question after question. "Well, I can at least answer your first question." She'd been asked this so many times by so many different people she almost had a science to it. "I'm what's known as a changeling... a crossbreed between a human and a hag. The Dark Forest is home to ancient evil fey and my mother was one of them. When I was a baby she left me on my father's doorstep and then rest is history." Quintessa wasn't sure if that explanation would satisfy her. "Before Larewen disappeared we toyed with the idea of turning me but I think I'm immune to the curse of Elazul. Our experiments found my blood incompatible. Maybe you can't curse an already cursed bloodline."

Khitti listened and nodded along as Quintessa explained. “I’m surprised I never ran into someone like your mother. I might as well have been part of the scenery in the Dark Forest. But, that’s to be expected. I was the same way back home. I’m the same in any forest in Lithrydel. I might’ve been an elf in another life.” That would explain the proficiency she had with a bow too. “That aside, it does and doesn’t matter what you are. It does, in the sense that you should know yourself inside and out, especially when fey are involved, but it also doesn’t, in that you are you and if anyone -actually- cares, then they weren’t someone that cared about you in the first place.” Khitti stretched her legs out a little, the adrenaline from finding Quintessa having finally left her, and leaving her much more tired than she was before. “Maybe other sentient creatures in the forest are aware of things like the vampire houses and the protections that come with them.” She shrugged. “As for Larewen, your immunity should be considered a blessing and not a curse. Her bloodline is tainted. I’ve seen what it’s done to people. The fact that I too was spared when I was turned by someone else is a miracle.”

Quintessa scoffs, "Who knows? Maybe you have met her and didn't know it. Hags are shapeshifters, taking the form of other races to seduce them into unholy unions. If you ever see my mother, point her out for me. I've been searching my whole life for her." Quintessa pulled the blankets up to cover her chin as she settles down in the bed. "Yes... Since Larewen left I've been researching her tainted bloodline. She was careful to keep this from me while I was her student... " The young necromancer stifles a yawn, her eyelids becoming heavy again. "She was a poor replacement for my mother too..." Quintessa wants to laugh at herself but she's too tired to try. "I'm well past my 18th name day- I'm not sure why I'm still searching..."

Khitti || The girl would yawn and cover up a bit more and Khitti could only stare at her as she did so. It was clear it was time for her to leave and yet she wanted nothing more than to continue talking with Quintessa. “You keep searching, because you want to know where you belong,” she said at length as she pushed herself up off the bed to take her leave. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m almost thirty-four, and I still search sometimes, even though I know I won’t find anything. Not here anyway. And the only thing I’ll find at home is a pyre with my name on it.” Khitti closed the curtains to the window in the room, then took the necessary steps towards the door, “You know where Lennier and I will be if you need anything. I’ll have someone leave you some dinner in a little while when it’s ready.” If nothing more was said to her, Khitti would take her leave and head back to her and Brand’s quarters for now, until it was time for her to start dinner.

Quintessa sat in silence as Khitti closed the curtains to her window and it suddenly dawned on her that this was exactly the kind of thing she had dreamed about as a child. It felt strange to think of the templar as a mother figure, but wasn't that what it felt like now? "I like that pyre," she says to Khitti, her mismatched eyes still glassy from the milk of the poppy. "I like this life you've craved out for yourself. It's simple. Nice. I feel... like I'm safe here." That was a big deal to Quintessa. She didn't even feel safe in Dragana Manor and that place was dressed to the nines in protective runes and traps. "Thank you for letting me be a part of all of it." Quintessa decided to cut this short before she got too emotional. "Goodnight, Khitti," is the last she'd say before she finally allowed her exhaustion to lull her to sleep.

Khitti didn’t have the heart to tell Quintessa, that the pyre awaiting her in Dhavislaav was meant to end Khitti and the magic she used. That she understood every ounce of what the witches in Lithrydel went through, to be persecuted for just being what they were. She wasn’t even born this way and yet they condemned her. But, there wasn’t any of that now. And even if there was, the templar of retribution would find just that: vengeance. It’d been a long time since someone besides Brand or Meri or perhaps even Lionel (if he wasn’t still upset about that bounty she put on him) had been truly happy to be a part of her life. Silently, Khitti thanked Past Khitti, from just a few moments ago, for closing those curtains because those damned tears were back again. “Goodnight, Quintessa.” Stepping outside the room, Khitti was quick to close the door. She stared at the wall across from her for some time, dwelling on things. She scoffed at her emotions, wiped her eyes, and wandered off to her own bed.