Not quite on the psycho path

Andromeda || 23 || Necrokinesis One man's fear gives another's strength. That's what makes me stronger than all of them.

[music-devotion]

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[andromeda-nightingale]

My Chemical Romance - Welcome To The Black Parade

We'll carry on We'll carry on And though you're dead and gone believe me Your memory will carry on We'll carry on And though you're broken and defeated Your weary widow marches on Do or die, you'll never make me Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me We want it all, we wanna play this part

[andromeda-nightingale]

Ouch, fuck.

She curses under her breath as she once again pricks her finger on one of the sharp splinters that form her violin now. Gently, piece by piece, she'd been trying to put it back together but to no avail. Maybe it was time for her to grow up after all, no matter how much she might try to fight it, it was time. "No, no I can't- not now." She muttered in determination carefully attempting to continue, despite the strange looks the librarian had been giving her for the past hour or so.

[andromeda-nightingale]

Damn it!

[aryadna-slezak]

(The blonde doesn’t say a thing about the little scene she’d just witnessed, she simply walks into the kitchen as if seeing stuff like was the usual thing. There was a fairly big assortment of crazy psychos around St. Mary’s, after all. But honestly, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with one of those right now, when all she wanted was some damn dinner) Food, clearly (she replies matter-of-factly, heading to the fridge nonchalantly) We’re in a kitchen, after all.

[andromeda-nightingale]

She stops as the woman walks in, biting her lip slightly and seeming to come to her sense. "I- ah," She hesitates a seconds rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me." She says offering the girl a small smile. She crouches down a moment, starting to pick up the glass shards. "So, erm, what are you intending to make?" She asks, trying to fill the silence of the room, but not quite sure what to say.

[andromeda-nightingale]

Damn it!

She mutters under her breath, you see the thing about Andromeda finding her emotions properly for the first time, pretty much gave her little ability over controlling them. Throwing the glass hard at the wall, she didn't flinch nor bring a bandaged hand up to protect herself as it shattered, several sharp pieces flying thought the air. "What do you want!" The normally chipper girl screamed as she heard the door open rounding on whoever had entered the kitchen.

[andromeda-nightingale]

Red || Self Para

It was the colour red that used to bring her comfort, the silent promise that everything would always be fine no matter what, because she'd never be alone.

"I-I don't know what to do." She muttered quietly to herself, it was strange to see the usually unfazable girl, who never felt fear and never showed sadness, in such a state. It wasn't that she was stoic, or suppressed her emotions in someway, quite the contrary really, she mostly didn't feel anything at all, sure she got mad occasionally or excitable, but things very rarely went any further than surface emotions such as that. She didn't feel bliss or sadness, nor fear or pride, Andromeda was all but numb inside. So why at a time like this was the girl crouched over her violin, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

She appeared unharmed, as did the violin and any on looker would have a hard time guessing why she was upset, even anyone close to her could barely warrant a guess, that was because they couldn't see, no one could see but her and she wasn't sure whether it was a gift or a burden.

"Mother I-I'm sorry! I don't know-" Her voice broke, the image before her fading, the lips of the apparition moving but for once she heard no sound. It was deafening, the silence, the image of her mother was barely visible now.

"No! Wait, come back, please come back!" She yelled her hand out stretched for a moment, before it fell, the image gone.

Seven.

Seven people brought her little more than a minute to see her mother. The imprint she'd left on the violin was fading and it was fading fast, she didn't have the power or the skill to see it anymore, not without help.

Her finger grazed gently along the string of her violin, leaving it streaked red, the same red that covered Andromeda's hands and the front of her jacket. The same red that showed her guilt for a crime she cared no she'd committed.

It had been one the first night.

Then two.

Three.

She'd panicked and gone to six

Still it was fading, finally she'd gone to seven.

Seven was when she'd given up.

She saw droplets appear along her violin and she wiped her eyes viciously, as if aggression could stop everything, as if violence could solve all her problems like it so often did. But it couldn't, nothing could solve this for her.

Time for the little bird to grow up and fly the nest.

"Shut up!" She screeched in response, though only to her own thoughts.

You're not a little girl anymore, nor were you ever, it's time to stop pretending.

"Shut up!" She said, slamming her balled up fists down on her violin, as if that could stop her thoughts.

The world is cruel, everyone's alone, even you, most especially you.

She slammed her hands over her ears this time a small growl escaping her mouth though it lost effect through her sobs.

You can hold on to anything forever, time to let go.

'No! Shut up! I'll let go when I want to!" She yelled, slamming her hands back down onto her violin. The wood snapped, splinters slicing into her skin but she barely even took notice, hitting it again and again, tears cascading down her cheeks as the splinters dug deeper, her own blood soon joining that of the other's on her hands. Poisoning the red, destroying the red, forever embedding her feeling in that moment into that perfect pristine shad of red she loved so much.

She didn't stop though she kept hitting her violin until it was smashed to bit, little more than broken wood held together by string, everything dyed crimson. She came to her senses then, letting reason take over. She swallowed a small lump in her throat, looking down at the possession she'd once held most dear. Her violin was destroyed along with all chances of ever seeing her mother again.

She was herself again though, at least for the moment. So she stood up and began to clean up. Everything all the evidence had to go, especially the last pieces of her shattered violin.

That red made tears rise to her eyes now. No longer a reminder that she wouldn't be alone, but a display of what she could loose.

  Her father was gone, her mother was out of reach and she was alone. For the first time ever, the girl thought fear was a weak persons feeling, was the last thing her prey would know, was her favourite weapon, was afraid. She was deathly afraid, because she was alone. For once Andromeda could feel something, she could finally feel and she despised it, it wasn't the emotionless who were cold but emotions that made you feel cold. She was so angry, so scared, so lonely, so lost, so sad and she despised herself for that.

Emotion was meant to make you see the world differently, see everything in a different light. Right now all Andromeda could see though, was red.

[andromeda-nightingale]

...

To say Andromeda had never been particularly proficient in combat classes would be something of an understatement, today however appeared to be something of an exception. When her opponent grabbed her from behind she flipped them over her head, slamming them onto the ground almost effortlessly but with a loud thud. By this point she was pretty sure it was over, holding out a hand she offered it to the project but it was promptly slapped away. With a small shrug she turned away, class ending and everyone filing out. What was the cause of her sudden ability? She'd simply began to learn how to conserve energy from her killing. Should she be challenged again much later the difference would be obvious. Never the less the small slightly proud smile glinted across her face. "That was fun!" She laughed to herself jogging off to grab her bag and accidentally bumping someone. "Oh shit, sorry, my bad."

[henry-storm]

(Coming out from the shadows, Henry’s head leans to the side as he lets out a light chuckle.) My, my. Didn’t your mother tell you that the shadows are meant for the demons and devils? (Leaning towards the person, his hand reached out to cup their cheek.) Have you ever watched the light die in a person’s eye? Quite a wonderful sight, really.

[andromeda-nightingale]

A small smirk appears on Andromeda's face, her counterpart was not with her for a moment, but that did not mean she feared the man before her, not at all. "Of course she did, why do you think I'm here? So pray tell, which are you?" She was confused about the touch to her cheek, though she didn't react to it. "A very beautiful thing indeed, nothing quite compares to it." Did she know it was a threat of some form? Oh yes, but she felt no fear, no need to react. This man had killed before, she could see it, every imprint his victims had left on him, it was something of an amazing sight to her, so few had so many stories.

[andromeda-nightingale]

People are...

She pondered the correct word for a moment, able to come up with nothing better than "Strange." A woman died and even those who did not know her grieved? It was odd to say the least. Death had never been scary to her, it was merely doing what it was meant to, take people away from all this. She didn't grieve over some woman she didn't even know, rarely did she of those she'd known either though. A simple question escaped her lips. "Why?"

[andromeda-nightingale]

Selfpara || To Kill a Nightingale

The heels of Andromeda’s shoes clicked lightly against the floor, she walked not in the usual far off dream like state she usually had, but with a sense of purpose and motive. She had a job to do, it hadn’t taken much thought, she knew what she had to do.  Her father was headed to the electric chair but it would take months, if not years for him to be processed. So here she was, off to see her father, it’d been easy to get in, it would be getting out again that would pose a problem. Never the less it did not deter her, she had to save her father, save him from himself. The man that had protected, sheltered and trained her, her entire life and now it was her turn to help him. It was good he’d been yet to be moved to prison yet, this would be far harder if he’d been out of the local police station

"Andromeda." Her father muttered in a hushed but surprised tone as he looked up to find his daughter standing outside his holding cell and the guard on watch with his throat slit. He was on his feet in a matter of seconds, grabbing at the bars in front of him as he rushed over to his daughter.

"Hello, father." She said quietly, drawing his cell key from the guard’s corpse. He had this strange glint of hope and happiness in his eye that only told Andromeda that what she was doing was right. Making her way over to the cell she unlocked it, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. She’d done many bad and illegal things in her life, but none such as this.

"Did you kill the others, let’s go." Her father said, making his way to the door as Andromeda stepped in. He didn’t understand after all did he? He had no idea why she was here.

"I’m not here to take you away father, you’re going to die, there’s no point." She said quietly. "I’m here to say goodbye." She explained the words nonchalantly, her eyes drifting to the floor.

Smack.

Andromeda look up at her father in shock, pain shooting through her cheek from where he’d stuck it. She’d seen her father hit her mother a lot as a child and she’d known how that had ended, but never had he struck her. She’d always trusted her father and he trusted her in return, he’d never stuck her and he rarely yelled, she’d always been his little girl, too delicate to be struck, too breakable. She wasn’t though was she? Maybe he was seeing that now, seeing what he’d made her into.

"We’re leaving, Andromeda, now." He growled, attempting to shove past his daughter, he couldn’t though, not this time. The guards she’d killed on her way in here had made her so strong, he couldn’t shove her nor push her. She simply shoved him back into his cell.

Smack.

There was that painful stinging sensation on her cheek again, but this time it came again and again and again. Her father continuing to try to get past her, to no avail. She stood her ground, doing little to fend off her father’s attacks.

His closed fist connected with her jaw and that was what had done it, he shoved past her, about to run for the exit. That was when she decided to end it. All the people she’d killed on the way in here and the power they’d given her made what happened next easy.

She was faster than him, moving across the room and grabbing him by the back of his collar, hurling him back into the cell. He hit the ground hard, rolling across it and only stopping once he’d collided with the wall. “I’m sorry father, I really am, but it’s your time to go.” She said, keeping eye contact this time, drawing out her straight razor  and flicking it open.

"No." Was the last word Andromeda ever heard her father utter to her, as he jumped forward, scratching and clawing at her. Why did he fight? He was going to die whether she delivered the killing blow or not, she could see it, his end was near and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

All it took was a second, her razor found it’s way to his throat and her father crumpled at her feet.

She knew what she’d done was right but she still couldn’t quite but help being hit by a realization, she’d just killed her father, the last remaining family member she’d had. From that day on Andromeda was truly alone in this world, she could look after herself, she was neither scared nor worried, all she was now was alone.

That night Andromeda drew out her violin again and she played. She played for her father, her mother, her family. This would be the last time she’d play for her family for now she didn’t have one, it was just her now, on her own. So she played, she played all night, for it was the Nightingale’s last song and she had to make it a grand one.

[andromeda-nightingale]

The Nightingale's Song

Genre: Horror

To some she is known as Azreal, the angel of death, to other's, Lilith, The Graverobber, Reaper, The Ferryman, The Wayment Witch. They were all the same person, some of the worst serial killers of the past decade and no one had ever caught them, after all, who'd suspect a mere child?

Her time appears to be running out, will she be caught and prosecuted? How many more will she kill? And most importantly, who's next?

[andromeda-nightingale]

Did you miss me, my dear friends?

[clayton-o-hare]

Clayton had never been uncomfortable in cemeteries. There were several old ones near where he grew up. And when you’re afraid of the monsters at home, dead people aren’t as frightening. He tilts his head curiously when she says her friends were here. But as she explains, he nods slowly. “S-so even though they’ve b-been gone a while, y-you can see them? Th-that’s cool. A-and I think it’s n-nice that you come p-play for them.” He smiles sort of sadly, looking around and wishing he could see what she saw. “I h-hope someone p-plays for me when I’m g-gone.”

[andromeda-nightingale]

His reaction was not quite what she'd been expecting, but it was kind of refreshing to meet someone who didn't call her insane or run off in terror. "Yes, pretty much, they can't say much, but they can move and interact, sometimes they show me things." She sends him a small smile at his words and places a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure they will, the dead are not so easily forgotten most of the time." She drifts over to one of the graves. "Sometimes I wonder if they're conscious, if they actually see me. They seem to recognize me, but they're simply echo's of the past, how can they truly be conscious." He tone was neither wistful nor sad, it was simply a question she sometimes pondered.

[andromeda-nightingale]

Did you miss me, my dear friends?

[clayton-o-hare]

With the heavy feeling that wouldn’t quite leave him alone and Leo’s incessant ego, Clay wasn’t feeling much like sleeping. He’d pulled on a jacket and grabbed his backpack and headed out to the grounds. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he just needed to be somewhere else for a bit. He wanders into town, knowing that if anyone finds out, he’ll be in deep shit. Despite the hour, though, he hears violin music. He follows the sound, never one to ignore music. The fact that it was coming from the cemetery gave him a bit of pause, but the music was beautiful and he wanted to know who was play. So, he enters anyway and finds himself looking at a familiar face. “I d-don’t think you’re crazy.No m-more than anyone else a-at the school.” He gives her a soft smile, looking around. “Th-that was beautiful. B-but if I can a-ask, why play h-here?”

[andromeda-nightingale]

Recognizing Clay she smiles slightly, she hadn't been scared or worried, she had almost reached for her razor though, half expecting a fight. Laughing a little at his words she gives a small nod. "Must be something in their genes I suppose." She jokes with a small shrug. She'd expected his question, crewing lightly on her bottom lip, debating whether or not to tell him. She wasn't worried he'd judge her or think her crazy, he just seemed like a nice kid and she didn't see a point to scaring him. "Thank you. Here? Because this is where my friends are." She explains, gesturing around her though she knew he couldn't seem them. "The dead, leave imprints on the world when they pass, nothing more so than their own bodies. In other words, I see dead people." She says, strangely casual for the topic.

[andromeda-nightingale]

Did you miss me, my dear friends?

She asks, jumping the fence into Herefordshire's grave yard, violin strapped to her back. This had become somewhat of a frequent thing for her since coming to St Mary's, hell she felt she knew the people here better than the ones back there. She tipped her hat to one of the apparitions before her. Of course they rarely spoke back, but they could still move, they were simply echo's of their lives before for her abilities could must little more. A small laugh escapes her as she draws out her violin and begins to play a fast tune, skipping around as her ghostly friend's danced. "You've been practicing without me haven't you all?" She asks gleefully, hearing a twig snap behind her and spinning around. "Who's there?" She asks, immediately stopping her playing. Of course, no one else could see her friends, she must seem insane to any on lookers. "I promise I'm not crazy."

[bernard-laswell]

Is this supposed to give me a headache?

[bernard-laswell]

[He blinks with the confused look.] Really? …Damn, this thing is really messing up my brain. Sorry, about that. [He groans with a frustrated sigh then falls back lying vertically on the bed. His ears are ringing now. Great, more symptom.] Stick… what? Sorry, my ears are weird… Maybe I should just sleep.

[andromeda-nightingale]

"Okay, yeah, maybe you should just relax or something." She just laughs at his words and goes back to staring out the window. "Yep, night night, sleepyhead. Now go to sleep before I knock you out." She says, laughing lightly and not really joking.

[bernard-laswell]

Is this supposed to give me a headache?

[bernard-laswell]

…Wait, you stole it? [Bernard asks back blankly, turning his attention to the packet. He tries to read the label but the words swirl and wobbles.] Maybe it wasn’t a good idea… [Frowning, he rubs the eyes in a slow manner.] You can call me, Bernie. Most people do. [He shakes the head quickly, like a tick.] Nah, nah. I’m good… Kinda. And they told me to stay awake as far as I can, so. No sleep.

[andromeda-nightingale]

"Yep, I think that was on of the first things I mentioned." She shrugs, so what if she was taking stuff from those scientists, it wasn't like they weren't giving them drugs anyways. "Oh well, it's a bit late now." She gives a quick nod. "Okay Bernie, noted for future interactions." She hums lightly to herself. "Okay, if you say so, or you could stick it to the man and take a nap, it's less painful that way."

[bernard-laswell]

Is this supposed to give me a headache?

[bernard-laswell]

[He nods meekly, convinced by the logic… or something.] Alright, I believe you. [Smiling faintly, Bernard props his elbows on the knees and leans forward as if he was waiting for the drug to work and fix everything— and that was exactly what he was doing.] Is it supposed make me sleepy? ‘cause it’s kinda doing that for me… [He blanks out again.] Uh, it’s Bernard. You were… uh, Andromeda, right? I remember, docs calling you. That’s a cool name…

[andromeda-nightingale]

She gives a small shrug at his question. "No idea, like I said, I swiped them from some scientist who was taking them for a headache, they could be the drowsy kind, who know? I didn't exactly ask him about the specifications of the pills I was stealing from him." She raises an eyebrow. He did not look too good right now, then again she could barely remember her own run in with the drug, so perhaps that was just how it was. "Yep that's me, nice to meet you Bernard. Thanks, same to you." Looking over at him she gives a small nod. "Do you want me to stop talking so you can actually get some sleep?"

[bernard-laswell]

Is this supposed to give me a headache?

[bernard-laswell]

[He must have blanked out for a while, because he suddenly finds someone standing in front of him. Not really surprised, he looks up rubbing the eyes.] More drug? Does it really help? [He asks a bit skeptically, although he takes the pill in courtesy. He didn’t really like painkillers, but hell, it couldn’t get worse from here. He swallows one.] Thanks. Hopefully it’d work. [He closes the eyes for a moment, feeling tired. He opens them up when she asks, though.] Hm? Oh, yeah… I’m alright other than I feel like I got flu. You?

[andromeda-nightingale]

She gives a small shrug. "Sure it works, they'd give them to us if they didn't work, so obviously they do." She gives a quick nod. Perhaps her vision of the scientists was slightly skewed, she held far too much resentment against everything to see clearly. "Yeah well, good luck, that shits only going to get worse if it doesn't work." She shrugs, turning her head back to look at him instead of the window. "Mmm, I am okay. No experiments for me today, which is nice." She takes a second to realize she did not know this one's name, she didn't know most of the mutations though, she just didn't care too, but she figured it would be rude not to ask. "So, you have a name?"