RP:Death Becomes Her

Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc

Part of the Agitation Arc

Part of the In Darkness We Trust Arc

Summary: Pilar seeks out her benefactor after a brief encounter in Alithrya, only to find Larewen bare and in the company of two utterly and completely mutilated elven corpses. Though the gift was from Trajek and shared in celebration of an unexpected engagement, Pilar mistakenly associates the evil deed with Shishi.

House Dragana

Pilar hadn't been to House Dragana in months. Hadn't spoken to Larewen much either. Their meeting in Alithrya barely counted, and that meeting had led to her trip here today. Yozenra, after Larewen was gone, had asked why Pilar had been so meek and fearful around her. Pilar admitted to having betrayed Larewen in the past, and Yozenra asked her to elaborate, which she did. Pilar told her about Larewen imprisoning Emrith and raising Trajek (and why THAT was bad), and about how Emrith had callef for her help but she had initially planned to side with Larewen, only for Hildegarde to guilt/intimidate the truth out of her. Yozenra was smart, though, and could tell there was more. Pilar eventually admitted that Larewen had been unkind to her, but she stressed that she deserved it. This made the normally-stoic Yozenra angry, and told Pilar in no uncertain terms that she did NOT deserve it, and that Larewen was in the wrong on all counts and owed Pilar an apology. It took some doing to convince Pilar to face her once-benefactor and ask for one. But as Pilar approached the mansion, her resolve whittled away, to the point where it was gone by the time she crossed the threshold.

The younger vampire will have to ascend the staircases to the uppermost level of the manse to find her benefactor, and en route there are several things that seem... off. For one, there seems to be a trail of ooze running the length of the hall, coming from Larewen's room. Approaching the door will find it cracked, the coppery tang of blood mingling with the putrid stench of corruption in the air. The necromancer lays upon her bed, covered barely with a sheet. Blood slickens her pale, scarred flesh and the blanket is stained with dark ichor - particularly around the areas in which the elf bares wounds from the basilisk blade. The mangled corpses of two elven maidens lay on either side of the bed, their innards adding to the gruesome flair of the apartment. The state of those bodies... is half-eaten. Though Larewen lays alone, it is clear that she is only recently so.

Pilar 's stomach churned when the smell hit her, and everything was forgotten as worry gripped her heart. “Larewen!” she called, racing up the stairs. “Larewen, are you al--” The moment she threw open the door, Pilar gave a strangled gasp. The bodies, the blood, Larewen's state of undress. Pilar stumbled back, horrified, hands clasped over her mouth. She knew Larewen was a more vicious vampire than her, but this... this looked like something a rabid animal had done. And why was she naked? Pilar turned away, tears pricking the backs of her eyes, and trying desperately not to vomit.

Larewen stirs from her reverie at Pilar's outburst, mismatched eyes fixing on the woman as she sits up. The sheet is grasped with one hand and held to keep her semi-decent. Pilar's turning away elicits a curl of the elf's lips in amusement as she slides from the bed. "Knocking is usually a good thing, dear heart," the elf admonishes with a sickeningly sweet tone. For a moment, she appears perplexed by the other's actions. Then, as if lagging in processing, she takes notice of the corpses of her King's tribute, of the offer that became a gift of engagement. "Ah, a mess. Sorry about that," she says, approaching Pilar and then calling out the door. "Aisen! Come clean the refuse from my room and give the brains to Margret for Goren," she calls before turning her maddened gaze to Pilar once more. "I was not expecting you."

Pilar took deep breaths and looked to Larewen in shock. “A mess? Refuse?! That is what you're calling it? Who were those girls?! What did you DO to them? Why aren't you dressed?!” The implications of the latter fact greatly disturbed Pilar. “I-I-I thought you were hurt, but you... you...”

Larewen steps quietly to the very chair she had been sitting in earlier when Trajek came to her, gathering the sheet around her lithe frame as she sits. Pilar's words only further the necromancer's confusion as her head tilts to the side slightly. "Who? They were no one. Chattel, that is all. Their purpose has been served. Why are you so panicked? There's no danger to be had here, dear heart." One hand frees itself, reaching over the arm of the chair to snag a cigarette which she lights with shadows. She inhales deeply, savoring the acrid, pungent taste of the tobacco. "Is something wrong?"

Pilar stared. And stared. And stared. “I... Yes, something is wrong! These women, they were people! I, I could understand if they had done something horrible, if they deserved to die, but... But you don't even know who they were!” Tears began to stream down Pilar's face. “What's happened to you? What have you become?!”

Larewen blinks cluelessly at Pilar. "My King brought them to me as a gift and we feasted," she explains. If her tone means anything, the elf is absolutely positively clueless as to why Pilar is upset by what she sees. During this exchange, the shampling Aisen appears and begins dragging away the bodies. As to the identity of her king, the elf doesn't divulge that. Clearly it isn't Emrith.

Pilar shook her head slowly. “This... this can't... Who ARE you?! What have you done with Larewen?!” The idea that this monster was her benefactor was too much for gentle Pilar to believe.

Larewen puffs on the cigarette a few more breaths. If Pilar were to listen closely, she might hear the steady rhythm of the necromancer's heart. It is beating, but with undeath, rather than life. She has a pulse, a pulse of corruption that moves through her veins, guiding and directing every movement. "I've done nothing, save sate my appetite. Is that really so atrocious to you, Pilar?" she asks.

Pilar was borderline hyperventilating. “You didn't have to do THAT to them! How can you just sit there like murdering people is nothing?! What's happened to you?! Who is this 'King'?”

Larewen tilts her head to the side, a swath of blood-matted, chestnut tresses briefly obscuring her face. "My husband," she answers simply, though she wears no ring. "Your fussing is vexing, child. Everything is fine."

Pilar shouted, "Husband?!"

Pilar couldn't believe it. “When did you marry?! Shishi did this with you?! Is he why you're... you're...?!” Pilar gripped her head. “Everything is not fine! You murdered two women for no reason! Is this the queen you're going to be?!”

The fact that Pilar's mind jumps to Shishi amuses Larewen and she makes no attempt to correct the fallacy. Letting Pilar believe that it was Shishi's doing is easier for the time-being. Until Trajek has a new face, anyway. Larewen looses a frustrated sigh and rises, releasing her sheet as she makes her way to the washroom. The splash of water can be heard as she lives Pilar in stunned silence for a few moments. When she returns, it is to her closet, where she fetches a fresh gown. In the cross, her body is naked before the other and Pilar can see the full extent of Trajek's torture, including the hole that runs through her belly and chest. Blackness oozes from the wounds. Pulling the gown on, she turns back to Pilar with a concerned furrow of her brow. "They were going to die regardless of whether or not it was by my hand. At least I gave them mercy where others would not. They did not suffer." Much.

Pilar gasped when she saw Larewen's naked form and turned away. She kept her back to Larewen, shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle her sobs, hands clapped over her mouth. Larewen was broken, severely broken, physically and mentally, and Pilar didn't know if she could fix her. “Mercy?” she croaked. “You call that mercy? Mercy wouldn't have left them looking like... like... THAT.” A sob broke past her lips. “What happened to you? What happened to my friend?”

Larewen is more concerned with her gown than Pilar's sobbing and a frown weighs her lips as she looks at the darkening cloth. Perhaps she ought to wear black... She returns to her closet, tugging free a snugly fitting black dress and pulling it on before returningn to Pilar. "What the dead look like means nothing. They were given mercy and will feed several of my people yet. Consider it charity, love. I live in excess, therefore I should share, no?" She reaches for her glass of wine that sits abandoned on the end table and swallows the last mouthful. "I truly am fine. In fact, I feel fantastic. I have a full belly, a lover whose loyalty is completely and utterly mine, and business to attend to. Is there something you need?"

Pilar cast one last look over her shoulder before bolting for the stairs. She could not get out of that house fast enough. Whatever had come over Larewen, she would need help to undo. If it could be undone at all.