Chhaaya

Cursed Human, former Assassin, Seeker of Peace

[madkingmerry]

The two separate questions posed seemed to titillate the tiefling greatly who giggled as the pair of them entered. "Humor is in the ears of the beholder, no? Call me a joker and whether I am funny shall be up to you, darling," Merry leaned against the bar, tail swishing closely around his own legs and flashed the bartender his signature bright smile. It seemed Merry was well known at every bar-like establishment for the bartender gave the tiefling a knowing glance with a raised eyebrow before tossing a sorry expression toward Chhaaya like they couldn't believe the tiefling had somehow managed to rope in another poor soul to buy him a drink, but the two drinks were soon produced and the bartender made a point in setting them both down in front of Chhaaya, making the tiefling have to lean over to reach for one himself.

"You have a look about you," the tiefling commented as he reached for one of the drinks set in front of Chhaaya, "that I like."

[theshadeofblood]

“Is it?” he asked, staring at the stranger. “I would not say being a jester really is about the beholder, you are one or you are not. Or your ghost is or not,” he corrected himself. “I call you joker, will you attempt some jest?” He watched the tail closely, he’d killed Tiefling before, this one with his broken horn seemed slightly unbalanced. Perhaps he’d been hurt, hit on the head, never recovered fully. 

The slight of hand didn’t go unnoticed however. As the Tiefling took one of the drinks, the smirk on Chhaaya’s hand brightened. He leaned forward and smacked the other on the shoulder, his own hand reaching forward and taking the other’s hand before he could swipe one of the drinks away. He had not offered, and if not offered, he found it impolite to take. He tapped on the other’s hand, then downed one of the glasses instantly. “And what look would that be?” he asked, as he took the other glass and swirled the glass, looking back at the Tiefling. “You have a look about you as well, though I am not sure what to make of it? Did you lose your horn in battle?” he asked.

[jiutiandaiyu]

Daiyu looked amused when the other started guessing at what she was. "Animal. Vegetable. Mineral. Are we going to make this into a game?" She inquired as she continued to walk languidly, her steps were soft and made almost no sound, even the shifting fabric of her flowing hanfu was soft as a gentle breeze. Contrasting with the bustling market on either side and the crowded center street which seemed to part just in time to offer no obstruction to her walking path. "No, to all," she gave her answer.

[theshadeofblood]

Chhaaya put his arms behind his back, locking his hands together, eyes narrowing in amusement. “We could,” he said, no mind for games, but certainly not one to give up so quickly. He’d never forfeited a job, he’d always gotten it done. He had no job now, yet he wondered at the use fire could be. Fire was useful, always. It always drew the attention of others, even those used to fire. “Not at all… am I not even close?” he asked, studying her intently. 

[madkingmerry]

"No need? But kind sir," against his chest, Merrymock placed his own hand, metal fingers glinting in the dim but warm light flickering through the opening of the door before it slowly shut, "I am possessed." A starkly sinister and serious expression passed over him, the retreating light cast deeper shadows against the yellow tone of his devilish features and caused the ignition of his firelight eyes to spark with glee before his expression broke into tumultuous laughter. Gone was the stark look, gone was the seriousness, replaced with an abrupt giddiness.

[theshadeofblood]

Chhaaya’s eyebrow quirked up, but he quickly realised it was said in jest and not in truth. His smile appeared to show he was amused and he held out a hand to gesture the other inside. “You are funny? Are you a joker?” He asked, as he pushed the stranger with the giddy laugh inside. “Or only possessed by one?” He frowned, but the smile stayed. He was an odd fellow. But Destarin was full of them. He shifted his cloak on his shoulders as he went inside and made a gesture to the bartender for two drinks.

[bellamychevasym]

Rabbit Season || Chhaaya&Bellamy

It was not about being quiet and so the young vampire did not concern herself with quietness as her long gown and the cloak she wore over it dragged across leaves and twigs, occasionally sticking in parts of the hem. She had grown used to this in her time as aasimar and so was quite unconcerned with the dirtiness that was accumulating at the base of her garments.

"We need to find an open area of the forest where we can sit in the moons light," Bella informed him, which was why, though they remained in the Cheridan element of the forest as that was where this sort of fae hailed from, they were closer to the Northern area, in the hopes they might find an open enough space for the task. For Bella, she knew this area less than the Southern part of the woods, as she tended to seek out the creatures of the Kingdom she came from.

The Cheridan area of the forest was, however, quiet beautiful. When they had left Ashharren there had been a rather beautiful series of paths to choose from, with stones engraved with various languages and coated in moss, some trees above had hanging amulets and stones to various dieties. Deeper, of course, these elements had waned but still the moss that coated everything was such a bold green it made the area feel less terrifying to wander than the Southern area.

Keeping the hood of her cloak up over her head, the edge of it embroidered with a language she did not imagine Chhaaya knew but was Vembrasyn, the edge of it a declaration of abandonment. That Bella should wander the woods wingless and alone and still find company in the monsters within. A promise to herself perhaps.

"Make sure you keep your offerings close, hobgoblins may be more common in the south by I imagine they'd wander north enough for a good trinket," she cautioned her company, looking back to the man that had requested her aid in mending his own cloak.

@theshadeofblood

[theshadeofblood]

Chhaaya had to admit that despite his age and his time on this earth, his knowledge had always remained limited. In part because his employer kept him in the dark, in part because he was happy to stay there. His employer made sure he was entertained between jobs, and it made it so he had little interest in requesting more information than what she thought he needed to kill. 

He'd followed Bellamy's suggestions to the letter. Placed food outside the window of his temporary place in offering, and he'd taken more care of the cloak the past few days than he had all the years before. Treating it like he would his weapons, rather than a simple piece of clothing. 

“Noted.” His blood boiled as he stepped between the trees, following Bellamy with his keen eye on their surroundings. It was as if his body was trying to make him aware of every warm body around. He ignored those senses. “Do you come to these forests often?” he asked, keeping his offerings close as she ordered, both hands touching the pouch. “You seem far more acquainted with the Fae than most I’ve met.”

[jiutiandaiyu]

Daiyu did notice she had garnered the attention of someone and that someone soon followed behind her. She was familiar with such reactions. Even in a world full of magic like this one, there was something about the magic of one such as herself which seemed to awe. "Observant," she commented in reply, a note of praise in her voice, "But it was really nothing special, just a flame grown too hot to handle." Truly as far as magical ability was concerned it was only a simple spell. The thin sheen of residual radiant energy surrounding her slowly faded away to nothing as if it hadn't been there at all and had only been a trick of the light.

[theshadeofblood]

The assassin nodded, falling into step beside her, his keen eyes studying her with interest - and a bit of nonchalance. “So if that was nothing special, I suppose what you can really do is much… greater?” He asked in challenge. Would she be willing? It wasn't that Chhaaya was especially interested, but he did like chaos. Chaos was often the best disguise, it was also something that generated a lot of eyes, came with confusion. He liked seeing people confused.

On the job he'd often been forced to rely on chaos created by others, and despite not having had such a job in months, he couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities. As if he was soon going to do an assassination, and he could team up with someone for one time.

"Are you a fire demon of some kind? A Djinn? Magician?"

[theshadeofblood]

OPEN STARTER

Chhaaya wasn’t new to murder, and it certainly didn’t strike him as odd that someone in a higher position - be it a very new position - was the one to be murdered. With power came the possibility of those attempting to take it. This was, however, one of the first times that he was here for the aftermath, and it almost felt personal. He wasn’t responsible this time, but because all the times he’d done his assassin job he’d been gone before he could see the grief in the eyes of those affected, this hit differently.

He moved through the darkened streets without a care for who had actually done it, and more with a heavy sense of shame to his walk. As if he’d been the one to take a life.

Reaching the bar enroute to his apartments, he tried to shoot inside when someone had just exited the premise, only to find he wasn’t the only one with no interest in holding the door ajar. Colliding with another soul, his body went rigid for a moment, before catching himself. “Friend, worry not, room enough for the both of us,” he said, taking a step back. “And I take it enough drink as well, no need to run in like a man possessed.”

[jiutiandaiyu]

location: downtown trade district

with: open to anyone

The trade market is currently at its busiest time, flocks of people bustling about on the streets with high voices conversing rapidly with vendors, haggling for lower prices and better deals. It's a familiar scene for the demigod and she strolls languidly, her hands clasped lightly behind her back, the crimson red of her hanfu with expansive sleeves fluttering softly around her without a care in the world. Despite the congestion of people who often end up bumping into each other due to the proximity and amount, none seemed to bump into her. As if the people within the crowd just so happened to step out of her way at just the right moment to avoid her. While she walked, she happened to make eye contact with a vendor on the side selling roasted duck, it was a young looking man and he smiled at her and she smiled back. Then a commotion started when the fire he was roasting the duck over suddenly flared, rising in height by a few feet like it was trying to jump right out of the coals and into the face of the young man. "Watch it!" Cried out disgruntled and panicked voices of customers nearest to the flames, "You almost burned my eyebrows off! You call yourself a professional? Get out of here with your amateur business!" The customers chastised the young man who could only apologize profusely and scratch his head, confused at what had caused the sudden surge of flame which had now died back down to a reasonable flicker. Daiyu hummed delightfully at the scene as a thin radiant sheen emanated around her.

[theshadeofblood]

Not new to watching Magic at work, Chhaaya’s eyes scanned the crowd when he saw the fire rising, the sudden flare brought to his attention by the heat it emanated onto his skin. He took a quick look around before spotting what he thought to be a shimmer. The last remnants of used magic, perhaps. He’d fought wizards and their kind before, knew there were a thousand ways for people to pull on the strands of the world that could not be understood by science. Magic, gods, powers, energies, nature. 

Not new to it, he was still fairly new to the big pool of different species, creatures, and the like within the town’s bounds. A great collection of all things out there, a great manner of possible new masters, would he not greedily sell out his skills to multiple. A great manner of interesting beings. He felt giddy with the eagerness to grow closer to people, now that he had that opportunity, now that he didn’t have to murder every person he grew close to anymore. The list of names that once guided him completed, he was free to discover for himself if people were friend or foe. 

He followed the figure and appeared beside her - whether she noticed or not he didn’t care for - commenting on the fire with a grin on his face. “That was some show,” he said. “Whomever did that must be very powerful.” 

[bellamychevasym]

In her years as aasimar it had been with relative ease she crossed the paths of beasts but faefolk did not always respond to the celestials in the same way others did. Fae had their own ways and the moon mother of rabbits likely would not submit her messengers to another celestial. Perhaps she would have more luck now as a vampire, their bloodthirsty ways far more akin to that of the fae than her aasimar form had been.

"In the hopes we both do not get lost I would suggest laying out favours the day before departure," she informed him, "it need not be anything overly expensive but something of use, food is the easiest." Bella would likely leave out some buttons and thread, brownies tended to appreciate those. "Sit it by a window or a crack in your walls."

Asking on pieces themselves she nodded. "Only in the past with the fae aware of the piece and the request being made," she explained. Oftentimes faefolk far from home could need aid in a skill they lacked, able to gift their permission for the amendments so the magic would not fade. "Which is why I would not want to start playing with it without some kind of blessing, a small assurance I wouldn't be ruining it."

[theshadeofblood]

Chhaaya easily followed directives, if someone told him to do something, he’d remember and do it. He visualised putting food out by the window, an offering to not loose their way when they went to attempt to contact the faefolk. In the hopes that the magic on the cloak came from them. If so, it could be mended. He wondered too if he wished to etch something in the cloak, truly make it his own. Finally something special he could claim completely his, not simply a tool used for what he was capable of.

“I will do that,” he stated.

He nodded in agreement. “It could not hurt. When would you wish to go? I have no obligations for at least the next few days. Of course, if you are busy at this time, I would not mind coming back later.” Perhaps by then he’d also have the coin to purchase her services.

[bellamychevasym]

Everyone in Destarin was a thief, at least in some capacity or another. She didn't presume him a thief because he appeared one but because even those who did not appear as such potentially were. Bella may not have stolen cloaks but she had stolen many lives to survive to be who she was now. "A gift," she mimicked, keeping the notion of the convenience of that to herself. The gesture of his bitten lip not helping counter her assumption it had been stolen.

"Innate magic like that is often faefolk, and the ability seems quite akin to their own," she noted, offering the cloak back to him since she could not mend it there in the tavern. "If I try and mend it without their blessing, and it is a gift from them, it could simply fall apart in my hands. If you made an offering to them, or performed some task, they might allow me to mend it with relative ease but...that's if they are where the magic is from."

It seemed likely to Bella who had crossed paths in the forest with many a faefolk who enjoyed trickery and playfulness. The cloak was a curious offering, if it had been a gift, and if it was fae in origin, whoever had given it to him had surely found a way for the faefolk to be amenable to such a powerful gift.

"If you wish to try I would speak with a rabbit, there were once moon elves that use faefolk that appear as rabbits in the woods as messengers. Now they run free, getting people lost. You might ask one what it wants in exchange for my work. I could guide you if you don't know the woods well? It would cost you." Not that she needed the money anymore but on principle she wouldn't do it otherwise.

[theshadeofblood]

Faefolk. It would make sense. His former employer had been into all sorts of things, roaming the world, making enemies, getting favours. As far as he knew, he hadn’t ever been ordered to kill one of those, and he wasn’t so sure he’d ever spoken to one either, perhaps waited outside while his employer did. He’d been the perfect assassin once upon a time: never asked any questions, never faltered. 

He accepted his cloak back. “If it is where the magic is from,” he agreed. “It could not hurt to attempt it.” If he lost it, he’d be less well hidden whenever he went out for a kill. He still would manage, but he did like it that when he felt less certain of himself, he always had the cloak as a back-up. 

He smiled. “I never assumed mending a magical item would come cheap,” he admitted. “But I would much appreciate your help in finding a rabbit, it’s a better alternative to doing it myself and potentially getting lost,” he added. “And I’m willing to pay any price, as long as it’s fair, but given your reputation, I trust it will be.” He was not one to bargain, but if he didn’t get other work soon, he’d be out of his money quickly. “Have you done work on faefolk pieces before?” he asked, as he neatly swung the damaged fabric over his shoulders, fastening it so it hung finely over his shoulders. The weight instantly making him feel more grounded. Yes, it would not do if it lost its potential.

[bellamychevasym]

Invisibility and a lack of confidence in how such a magic have been given to it were both challenging. Since it sitting over his shoulders had not made him invisible presently there had to be some way to activate it which did provide some hope, if it was perpetually keeping him unseen then there was a higher chance it was the fabric itself rather than some magic cast upon it that she might be able to spread to additional fabric or thread.

The vampire's cold hands moved over the fabric itself, trying to see if some magic was woven into it, soaked into it, cast upon it or found possible through some other means. Magical objects could be curious, depending on where they had come from. Some magic simply was, like hag stones, they were nature's way of evening out what was not balanced in nature. For each being who had found a way to hide there was surely a way to see them again.

Trying to assess it's properties her fingers found the frayer, grazing over it a few times to see if her motions would make it worse. "Did you steal it?" she asked him, the tone lacking accusation so much as seemingly asking for context. The degradation of the item could have been because he lacked ownership in which case fixing it would have simply been a waste of time.

Turning it over she attempted to observe each side of the garment, drawing some slow suspicions as to what it might be. "How do you make it work? Simply desiring for it to hide you? Some sort of word?" she questioned. If she was right she could mend it, but it would cost him a little more than simply gold and such a cost would not need to be paid to her.

[theshadeofblood]

Chhaaya's eyes studied her when she further attempted to divulge the secrets of the fabric, and he could not help the amusement he felt at it. He wondered if the state of it was what made her think he was a thief: he lacked the attention and care for the item, that was to be certain. But he'd never thought of it much as his own. Everything gifted to him by his employer was technically not his. It would be washed for him, cleaned for him, and it would disappear on him. However, the cloak he wore a lot.

"It was a gift," he admitted. "A long time ago," just to make sure she understood that this was from years and years of use. Having it off of his shoulders was like a weight that disappeared, it was nice, but it also made him feel naked. Especially at night, especially in crowded places. If he wished, he could disappear within them.

One front tooth bit on his lower lip as she studied the fabric. He would hire her expertise regardless, but this felt like he was getting free labour, and it did not sit right with him. On the other hand, he figured he could be interested in something to such an extend where he wouldn't care.

"I can only use it at night," he admitted. "When the moon is out, and then I simply desire for it to hide me," he said. He figured it charged the fabric in some way, as if the light of the moon created the illusion of his disappearance. But it did not work on everyone or everywhere. He had other skills for that. He studied her carefully, his hopes up.

[bellamychevasym]

Bella's pupils pulled to his side, even as she kept her posture and her face towards where a young bard was performing vulgar limericks to the amusement of the crowd. He was not half so amusing to her as Merry could be, but he had new commitments now, he was not able to be at the tavern quite so often. Yet it had become part of her ritual when she worked to take an hour or so to watch him and find a meal. So now, as she watched this bard, a man had begun to speak to her without warning, pallid green of her gaze watching him through the edge of her eye.

Only when he stopped did she look back to the stage, remaining forward. Much like he could tell she was dead, she too could sense it in him. Inedible. Useless for her own purposes.

"We take appointments in the evenings," she informed him of why they had not been open when he arrived, if the door had been it would have simply been chance, or a different sort of interruption had she had an appointment. The interruption didn't actually bother her, and since her own election she knew she needed to be more...personable, Bella just didn't like entertaining those who approached her until she knew their intentions. Even for a meal, Bella would not waste her time entertaining flirtatious comments, they were typically unconcerned with any part of her but her appearance and she lacked any interest in someone who only noticed as much.

Slowly her chin shifted his way, and her knees did as well, observing the thread bare cloak he spoke of. "I'm not a witch," she informed him, even if he probably knew as much. "So I can't do anything magical to it if it requires it but I can potentially help salvage whatever magic it contains, yes," she held out a hand, requesting the garment. "Beyond the obvious, what is it that you need specifically?" Bella asked him, the obvious being that it needed the hem redone, and depending on the magic would depend how much she could help with it.

[theshadeofblood]

Chhaaya smiled and nodded, her posture didn’t change, as if he was but a nuisance. She clearly had no interest in speaking randomly with another undead. He couldn’t fault her for being so, Destarin was supposed to be a lawless town, it was why he’d come here in the first place. To be away from prying eyes, to be out of sight, hidden, the great possibility to draw in the crowd and disappear within the nooks and cranies of this place.

When she did finally turn to him, he studied the way her eyes drew away from his, locking with the fabric around his shoulders, the heavy cloak that had saved him so often already. That would continue to save him.

He had not expected her to offer a skilled eye now, but she held out her hand regardless, and he unwrapped the heavy garment from around his shoulders. The fabric shimmered as it was folded, but only for a moment.

He could not say how long he’d had it. Time seemed to always be a confusing mess to him, but it had clearly been through the wars: fizzled at all the edges, worn, bloodied. He’d washed it, but he was not sure if that had been enough. It was magical, his employer had gifted it to him, but it was certainly not indestructible.

“I think,” he said, frowning at his own lack of knowledge of the item, “that it has some kind of invisibility spell worked into the fabric, or cast upon it. I’ve never had it mended before,” he admitted, a bit shamefully. “For I’ve always been fearful it might lose its ability. All I’d need is for the obvious to be done.” And if it did lose its ability, he’d find a way to cope. He no longer was forced to be an assassin after all. He merely did what he did because it felt good.

[theshadeofblood]

CLOSED STARTER at blood, sweat, and beers @bellamychevalier

Destarin was filled with strange creatures, people, and monsters, wherever he looked he would find those he'd seen before on his missions, and those he was unfamiliar with. He could not always guess what they were, and he figured they also didn't know what he was. It was a strange sort of hidden, one he was familiar with, but not one he'd been faced with before from his surroundings.

Regardless, death recognised death, he felt. He could pick out those who like him were undead, perhaps because of the conditions of their blood, perhaps because he too acted a certain way and saw that in others.

But right now, finding himself next to another undead creature, it was not because he sensed that common denominator, but because he'd been told of her skill.

"Apologies for bothering you in your down time, I found your place of business closed already," he said. "I hear that there is nobody better in this town to be asked about mending fabric," he stated. "Especially if said fabric has magical components." The last he made up, since Chhaaya hadn't told a soul about the ability of the cloak around his shoulders.

[brxxns]

"--So, we're a little low on our fall ales due to Vearlia and the offerings, but, um, my boss wants everyone to know we do have a barrel aged vintner that is exquisite, and perfect for the colder months." Solara had been keeping her cool as well as she possibly could. They were understaffed at the restaurant and she was taking tables and hosting and was very pointedly ignoring the way the clouds over the restaurant seemed to be steadily moving in. If Solara focused on the task at hand... maybe the sun would come out. The one table she was helping was running her ragged, so needy and giving her so little time to concentrate on other tables. She wouldn't be surprised if it begun to rain right over where they were sitting. But finally they let her go, and she had a chance to see the patron seated near the window.

"Thank you so much for waiting," Solara approached with a mildly frazzled smile. Her homemade, mismatched shell earrings poked out from her mildly frizzing hair. "My name is Solara, I'll be taking care of you today. Anything to drink? I like our sour ales personally... and I can't stop eating our deep fried calamari, sometimes I'll take a piece from the plates before they go out to the table, but don't tell my boss."

[theshadeofblood]

Chhaaya was finding that with his main source of activity falling away, that life could be beautifully boring, with the possibility of entering places he'd never before had time or energy for, to experience things he'd left behind for such a long time. Technically he didn't need food, or at least, it didn't seem to change much about him if he did or didn't eat for a few days. But it still tasted delicious and there was something he couldn't put his finger on about being served by others. His eyes scanned over what seemed to be a culinary map of words he'd never looked upon before, and prices he was certain he could afford today but he wasn't so sure about tomorrow.

His face slowly came up from his studies to fall upon the server. She was beautiful in a cute way, clearly a bit in over her head, but trying to keep strong for the sake of her job. His attention was drawn by her earrings for a moment, before settling on what she had been saying. When he'd been an assassin, Chhaaya hadn't spoken much, words were for the living, not those soon to be deceased. And even during the day he'd not given much attention to words, his employer supplying him with what he wanted.

It was so easy to grab hold of what others suggested and find joy in that, rather than create his own. He would have to practice that.

But for now. "Sour ales," he repeated. His voice was a bit raspy from underuse. "And if I were to want for something to warm my stomach?" he asked. His face was a mask that showed very little emotion except perhaps some amusement. "I would not mind ordering some calamari, you are very welcome to take a few pieces from my plate. You must have quick fingers for nobody to have noticed."

[crownswarrp]

𝐂𝐇𝐇𝐀𝐀𝐘𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍

he was once human, a bastard son of a great lord who was waging war. his life was used by the enemy to cripple his father, leaving him a shell of a man. a stranger who had been present cursed him, promised him freedom, and made him her assassin. his contract to her ended a while after she died, and he fled to destarin. he does not remember his own name, but he goes by chhaaya. he is charming but very blunt and crude as well. He identifies as a cis-man and uses he/him pronouns.

TW: war, death, torture, blood, murder.

You don’t remember your name, the name you were born with. Perhaps if you did, you would understand why you became what you became. If you did, it might shed light on where you’re from, how you got into this situation.

You were the bastard son of a great lord who was at war. He had a few of those, unwanted, scattered throughout his kingdom, and all sent to fight in his war. You fought valiantly in his war, unaware of your role, unaware of how important the blood was that ran through your veins. But they found you, took you, kept you locked up as they used your blood to destroy your father’s world. Your body became the war’s second battlefield. Blood and muscle and skin, used to destroy your father’s assets, sicken his line, and destroy his health.

With the blood of his bastard, the bones of his great land would collapse.

The bastard son soon forgot everything. Except how to breathe, scream, and feel pain. He became a perfect shell for something more. As his body was broken and renewed, destroyed and resurrected. He did not know that within the walls of the prison he was being held, there were others ready to use him.

One day one of his tormentors, an older woman, with grey in her hair and a raspy quality to her voice, gave him a knife. She promised him freedom from his agonies if he promised to do her bidding. To break free he had to slay the one who came to draw his blood with the knife and cut off their head. She would do the rest.

He did as she asked, weak and beaten, he managed the feat as screams erupted around him, the others in the room rushing to stop him, to pull him from the room. Then the one who promised to free him drew him into the pool of blood. He fell into it as if it wasn’t simply a layer of liquid on the stone floor, but a deep ocean he could drown in. The raspy voice spoke to him as he floated, telling him to give in, to breathe, to let go. Surrounded by blood, the boy let go. The pain disappeared, the exhaustion disappeared, all there was left was the eagerness to live.

He emerged from the blood, reborn. Every person in that room was killed by him, and every person that stood in his way after too fell to the knife and the blood magic he could control. He didn’t understand it, but his own need for survival was much stronger. Every drop of blood that fell could be used, and he shed it willingly.

Deep down, he knows he’s been dead since then, he knows doing the bidding of the one who freed him is not simply a choice. But he’s done it for decades now. Her assassin, her knight, her warrior. Even after she died there were still people to take care of. There had always been a list, and as long as there were names on that list, he had a job to do. When the last name was crossed off, he was truly free.

Free and abandoned. At least when he had been in her employ, he’d been free to move around and live where he pleased. He had money to his name, connections that did things for him, and always somewhere to run away to. Now he had to run from those who might seek revenge on him for the assassinations. Moving to Destarin to be far away from those who wished him dead.

WHAT ARE YOU...?

species: shade / cursed human. weaknesses: holy magic, familial blood, true name, daytime, drained of blood, blood diseases, can't use blood magic against unead. strengths: undead, enhanced healing, enhanced speed, blood magic. physical description: he appears as any regular human, but once he starts to use his blood magic his eyes turn gold as does any blood he touches. additional info: he carries a cape with him called the cape of night which can render him invisible when wearing it while the moon is up.

chhaaya is played by niek and their fc is sam otto