It was not every day that Yuichi would show this side of him where warmth overflowed from his once arctic and calculating mien. Who would have thought that the man whose stare was like daggers capable of piercing through flesh was able to convey such concern? And unlike what happened in Monokage where Anabelle reacted negatively to the care Yuichi offered, the intertwining of their fingers was welcomed, if not deeply appreciated, by the Felin. From his touch radiated peace and a sense of security the cat-lady hardly experienced since the day Conrad Carlson snatched away from her the life free from any anguish; it was the reason why she chose virtual world over the real one, and it was. Thus, she allowed herself to bask in it. Her head leaned on his shoulder. Her cat tail was rested on the Human's lap. Anabelle leaned her head on Yuichi's shoulder as she gave off a long, audible sigh. The brawler's words were not the most comforting, yes, but the intention was there and it was enough to make her feel that she was fighting this battle with someone. Though, it would take a while before she could respond with clear words. For the meantime, he was replied with a low purr. Aside from the involuntary sound cats emit, there was nothing but silence between them. Minutes passed before the trembling left the lady's body. But still, because of the ordeal, Anabelle felt tired she did not think she could get up right away. It was also the time she was able to clear her throat. "I... I'm not going to stop you..." she remained in her position as she finally spoke, referring to her companion's promise of vengeance. "But... but promise me... that I won't lose you. It's selfish of me to ask of that, but..." she paused for a moment, finding the right words to say. She was afraid he would take it in a wrong context, and she was not used to asking people for favors like this, if one would even call it a favor. "But... you're all I got, Yuichi." She bit her lips while not noticing she was already squeezing the pretty boy's hand. ------- Outside the hotel, near the port where the mansion was supposed to rise, the NPCs gathered while waiting for their boss to arrive. Earlier they were told to run everything to Yuichi before executing something, hence the reason why they halted their operations for a while. Suddenly, a muscled guy with a tattoo approached them, asking information regarding who they were working for and the project they have. One of the NPCs were too nice that he divulged information generously, even to the point of letting the stranger know that they were being taken cared of by a bodacious felis. Asked of the name, the said NPC gave away Anabelle's name. Perfect. It maybe was the stranger's lucky day. Gathering information was never this easy. "I see," said he, "do you think I will be able to work with you?" "Let's wait for our boss." "And that would be?" "Yuichi Ichinose."
There was nothing particularly different about how Yuichi and Anabelle were right now other than the fact that he felt slightly annoyed that he was being used as a scratching post for some strange reason. However, seeing the Felin’s fears grow smaller with every passing second just by his simple act of ‘being there’ served the young man’s purpose in ways he could not understand for now. His logical mind told him that the presence of an object of authority, in this case himself, allowed the traumatized beast-kin to placate her fears and comfort herself despite the lack of anything – as far as Yuichi saw – that one would associate with comfort. The couch felt springy and his virtual body was not the best body rest to use; either way, he did not dare complain until she expressed her concern. Yuichi met the sudden tension in his hand and elevation in the beast-kin’s voice with a raised eyebrow, confused at what she was blabbering on about. “Lose me? What is that supposed to mean?” he asked rhetorically. “We are Players, Annie; you make it sound like we can die permanently in this game. This is not Sword Art Online, you scamp; our FullDive systems have safety functions to prevent something like that insanity from happening again. So really, I have no idea what are you concerned about – I will not leave you, if that is what you are worried about. You are my friend, so I think it is only normal to stick together because we share the same goal.” The way by which Yuichi succinctly explained his own understanding of friendship was as paradoxical in its form as the sentiments put in it. It held no meaning behind the words other the ones which were readily apparent in the context used and the definition used in that context – a strange exactness to what many writers would deem as painfully straight, but nevertheless surgically precise. It was clear that Yuichi understood friendship as a theory and a feeling, but in his own cold and logical way, he valued it, in the same way he valued Anabelle as a friend – a variable – towards creating a successful friendship similar to how one builds machines and instruments for medical treatment. Having sensed a change in the Felin’s attitude, the fighter heaved a heavy sigh to let go of his desire to run out to find Carlson and his lackeys. Besides, by that time, if Anabelle’s silent instructions were correct, they would have probably boarded a ship and sailed off to parts unknown. Yuichi may have been quite fast on his feet, but water was not something the pretty-boy did well in. He had never learned how to swim, gone to the beach, or just simply enjoyed the life of a child the way other children did. His knowledge on theories of hydrodynamics were sound, but his application of such knowledge on anything other than work-related activities were below average. “Anyway,” Yuichi began again, “I think it is about time for you to dress up so we can get back to the mansion construction site. We are already behind our daily quota by more than twenty minutes.”
Anabelle was aware what obsession to vengeance might lead: like extreme hatred or obsession for power, there was a possibility that a burning desire for vengeance could turn humans into heartless monsters. What she was trying to say was she wanted Yuichi not to lose his sense of self and his humanity. To her mind, it would not worth it ---- she was not worth it. Moreover, she would rather have the reliable friend who, despite being callous sometimes, never hesitated to be there for her during these times of trouble, even if the offender was made to pay for his crimes, than the one who brought her justice but in turn having his heart change into that of iron and blades, that there would be notable distance; being alone did not mean only physically, anyway. Maybe he was already transitioning into that, or maybe he already lacked humanity before they met but unfortunately, Anabelle was unaware of it. And sadly, she could not turn all of these thoughts into words to prevent him from taking that path. There was a lack of capability to pick the right words and convey her ideas in such a clear manner similar to how the gifted Human explained his pledge to the Felis. Thence, even if she wanted to explain further why she said those words, Anabelle opted to purse her lips and just go with what Yuichi said. She just gave a thin smile. When told to change clothes, it was only the time Anabelle peeled her head off the pretty boy's shoulder and noticed that her once long-sleeved pristine white top and the denim shorts were stained. Besides, it might be a good idea to change them since Carlson already 'marked' the clothes. She nodded, but then she never showed any intention of moving. Still holding his hand, she slightly tugged his arm with it before her free hand pointed to the stairway in an attempt to ask another favor: for him to go with her to the hotel room. Even if she knew Conrad Carlson left the premises, Anabelle still bore that fear that he might find a way to sneak in the hotel without her noticing it and come for her. "Uhm... p-please?" If Yuichi would agree, she would rise after him since she felt tired after going through such an emotional roller coaster. Thereafter, she would amble towards the stairs to reach the second floor of the hotel and lead him to her room which was on the end of the hall without letting go of his hand. She would let him enter the room. Then, she would pick up a pair of clothes from the closet, the first time she let Yuichi go, and then proceeded to the bathroom to change clothes, hoping that when she comes out she would still find the Human there.
Although it was quite clear that Anabelle had overcome her fear for the meantime, remnants of the trauma manifested themselves in ways that further inconvenienced Yuichi and his time-table schedule. He had thought the thing finished after their little moment, but now she silently wanted him to come along so he could keep her company while she changed. The human could only sigh at the Felin’s temporary regression into an almost child-like state, the mannerisms being similar to that of a scared tot waking up his or her parents just to accompany the child to the toilet. It was a hassle, but no parent would admit that to their own blood, especially since the same was tantamount to psychological abuse in some parts of the world. Besides, Anabelle’s discolored eyes pleaded with Yuichi to go – there was nothing he could do but comply to her wishes for the time being. With a sigh and a grunt, the brawler now assumed the role of the beast-kin’s personal aid as he carefully guided his ward up to her room with nearly the practiced efficiency of a nurse or caregiver. It paid to sometimes take part in product testing since it allowed Takeo to pick up on hospital mannerism and proper patient care from those who actually used his company’s instruments out in the field. With the amount of hands-on time he spent with the engineering and product-testing department, he had accumulated what amounted to one whole year of medical training, which made it rather simple to act like a real nurse and help Anabelle every step of the way until they got to her room. The smell of expensive shampoo and perfume filled the air and wafted into his nose as soon as Yuichi opened the door. The scent of the room certainly fit what he had imagined a woman’s quarters would smell like, if his mother’s powder room in their mansion would be of any indication of the same. It was pleasant and relaxing as if he were in a spa reception area at a fancy hotel. He could almost let himself be entranced by the scent, if not for the fact that he had work just minutes later after Anabelle would finish changing out of her clothes into something else – hopefully something more conservative and practical since Yuichi had already noticed several workers gawk at the Felin’s bountiful breasts, which by the young man’s estimations already cost him five minutes of work per person, per day. If he had the power, he would just wrap Anabelle in a rug and let her roll around the work site so nobody would bat an eye except the children who occasionally passed by. Another workaround would be to just force the blonde cat-lady to wear a fat suit, but those things did not exist in TerraSphere. Yuichi could only sigh in the hopes that the beast-kin’s next choice of attire would be something less revealing and more prim and proper, like jeans, a polo shirt, and a sleeveless vest over it – a typical female foreman’s attire in Japan. He doubted the Felis would have some in stock though, leaving the human to just sit back on the bed and wait for his project partner to pick something proper to wear for the day.
She was still a bit shaky upon reaching the bathroom. It was hard to maneuver oneself when the knees barely supported one's weight, but by reaching and grabbing on the sink and anything else she could grab on, Anabelle was able to move around on her own. However, upon seeing the shower, the Felin stopped and had this hunch that she was 'dirty'. Perhaps rolling on the floor as she broke down was the reason behind it, or if one would look at it in a different perspective and understood what happened down the lobby, perhaps the reason was the second assault and the recollection of what happened in Druuk Island. This was not the first time she felt this way, but at least it was not as intense as what she felt in Monokage where she scrubbed and scratched herself until it all bled. For a few seconds, she stared at the silver-colored shower head until finally she gave in --- she needed a shower. Placing her back against the wall, she carefully undressed herself starting from the button-downs. It was quite difficult to unbutton the garment with shaky hands, but Anabelle was able to pull it through albeit it took a while. Then came off the other parts of the current ensemble, until she was fully undressed. Slowly, she walked by the shower and turned the knob. Water sprinkled out of the shower head and graced her flawless skin. The beads of water also seemed to massage her, hitting certain spots that helped her to calm down a bit more until she was able to stand without trembling or any support. After a few minutes, she was done. Time to check on the clothes she just grabbed. There was nothing left in the closet aside from a plain white round-neck shirt, the hem of which reached almost thigh-length, but despite the size barely covered the curves of her bodacious physique and a pair of skimpy dark denim pants. As she had no other choice, and even if it does not fit right for her fluffy cat tail, Anabelle just allowed herself to wear such clothes. To convince herself further that it was comfy and appropriate, she had thoughts of conversing with herself, airing the fact that she should care a little for the looks because they might be scheduled for laborious tasks ---- that was what people building a haunted mansion do, right? There was no reason to be 'grand'. Besides, the ensemble, as it covered more skin, might help in warding off the eyes of men who coveted for her. After being convinced that she was ready, the freshly-bathed cat girl strutted out of the bathroom. Then, without actually hearing what he had to say, or paying not too much attention to it if he had anything to say, in fear she might hear him call her again 'slut', "whore" or anything akin to it, Anabelle remembered what she was supposed to do prior meeting Conrad Carlson. Hurriedly, the girl sprinted towards the table where she left the folder, took it and hand it over the Human while making sure none of the sketches of him were exposed on the table. "I made designs of the interiors," said she, "though, I do think none of them are quite as impressive as..." she paused, feeling the sudden pounding on her chest and a fire that lit inside of it. There was a weight that pressed down on her lungs, making it difficult for her breathe... but she had to say it; the sudden new idea which might help both of them overcome the ordeal they were going through, even for just a little. She heaved a sigh before continuing, "...as having dismembered parts of Conrad Carlson inside the mansion for decoration." While waiting for his reply, a knock on the door was heard. A voice then boomed, but it was not in a threatening tone or anything similar to it. "Ma'am Kitty, is Sir Yuichi there? This is Bob." Bob was one of the NPCs working for Yuichi. There was nothing special with Bob. Truth is, he and the other NPCs look and were named the same, like the many Nurse Joy in Pokemon. "There is this player-character who wants to join the workforce, sir, ma'am. Also, should we resume with work?" Hidden: OOC Feel free to describe the sketches so it would fit what you want the mansion to look like.
Yuichi raised an eyebrow when he saw Anabelle exit the bathroom. She wore next to nothing for her new choice in clothes, as if openly denying his earlier suggestion for a more conservative look. He huffed in exasperation, noticing that the tight-bodied beast-kin would be lusted after by the workers ever more than before with her chosen ensemble. "What in the world is that?" he asked, scanning her from toe to top. She was indeed beautiful, but nothing of note that would stir strange interests from with the brawler’s heart. He doubted other people were the same. Nevertheless, he just sighed and chalked it up to the Felin; she knew was she was doing, or so he convinced himself. In an attempt to steer the subject away from her choice in clothes, correctly pre-empting Yuichi from commenting upon them, Anabelle swiftly gave her some of her more refined sketches and designs, much to the young man’s astonishment. They might have been just lines and shades on a piece of virtual paper, but the quality behind each and every stroke told the fighter of an exacting meticulousness that only sought to improve upon the rough draft they had agreed upon before. To that end, the human closed his eyes and ignored everything else, allowing his mind to wander into a world devoid of all life; where the only bastion was a daunting old mansion that stood in the distance, deceptively inviting all who see its moonlit form into a false sense of security. Another Time, Another Place… In his own world, Yuichi stood almost dumbstruck, gazing at the dilapidated house his blonde partner gave life to through her masterful pen strokes. He shivered as though ice had replaced his spine, thanks partially to the cold sea air that enveloped his entire body. However, not even multiple layer of clothing would protect against the deathly cold that came from within, born from a primal fear of the unknown inherent in all sentient being regardless of shape, size, or race. It was the one thing that made all equal, and the structure they saw before them now was fear incarnate. The walkway leading up to house was cracked; weeds and dandelions poked out from these cracks, like pilgrims with their hands raised high in praise of some pagan god. Red roses grow wildly in thick batches by the gate, almost as if staining the entryway with blood and deter all passersby from entering the cursed place. The light from the moon cast a ghoulish glow on the house, the rotting vines on its side forming a twisted maze of green upon the side, reaching their tentacles towards the roof. The mansion's walls showed black decay by purposeful neglect, the splotches of original paint hinting at the owner’s former prosperity. Cobwebs covered the corners of the doors, tiny black spiders threading towards their prey, adding a final touch to the mansion of damned, fit for the kings and queens of the supernatural. Yuichi imagined himself further as the door begrudgingly creaked open. A musty, dank order creep into his nose. The house was dead silence except for the intermittent creaks and moans from the rotting wood that now had to support the footsteps of a live visitor. Black and brown mold dotted the ceiling in clusters, evident of years of rain seeping through the roof. The brawler quietly entered the dark living room thereafter. Windows covered with grime and dirt welcomed him, the calm moonlight struggling to penetrate the choking darkness in thin thread rays. Sharp shadows roamed around the room. The sofa and chairs overturned revealing deep grooves on the ground where they used to sit. Wallpaper lay curled on the floor. A large jagged hole dug through the wall dared any to enter, or at least peek into the unknown. Picture frames hanged off-centered from a misplaced grand bookcase stood the corner of the room, undisturbed for a long time, which begged the question as to what force was capable of moving such a weight without humans around. If one were to correctly guess, selecting the correct book could reveal a secret doorway into a labyrinth that led into the bowels of the haunted house where the secret of its damnation lay hidden. The fighter made my way back into the hallway, a sliver of light coming from behind a door. He approached and opened the door, turning out to be that of a grand bathroom. Dust swirled around the room as he made my way inside. The medicine cabinet mirror lay shattered in pieces on the floor tile. Empty medicine bottles lay in the porcelain wash bowl, where a closer look would reveal the discoloration of the water – a brownish concoction from which emanated a rank odor. A lone mouse stood sentry at the bottom of the tub. Never having a visitor in a while, it curiously eyed me before scuttling away into the darkness, just before that darkness took shape before Yuichi’s very eyes. It had found a suitable host. Back To Reality… Violently snapped out from his imaginary journey by the NPC’s voice, Yuichi looked at the door with an expression of disappointment. He sighed under his breath knowing that the artificial intelligence that animated the construct was simply doing its job and asked to confirm whether its employers wanted to resume work or not, as well as deal with someone who wanted to work for them. “We will be right there,” he replied through the door, “yes, resume work as well – time is money!” Yuichi hopped out of the Felin’s bed after issuing his orders then walked over to his partner to give her a pat on the back. “You did a great job, Annie. This house will be perfect,” he praised. “If you have any suggestions on how to improve it more, feel free to tell me. Now come on, our workers are waiting.”
Anabelle's eyes widened in disbelief. She was not expecting that Yuichi would easily agree and approve the designs she drafted, or at least did not suggest to alter any elements of it. As the man praised the cat girl, the latter felt some sort of joy welling up her chest. The feeling of being significant brought a sweet smile on her face. She nodded in affirmation, unable to express in words what she truly felt. It is not every day that one gets this kind of appreciation and importance, hence Anabelle allowed herself to momentarily bask in the feeling before noticing the door was swung open and the brawler was coming out of the room. Anabelle followed suit. As the positive reinforcement seemed to work for her, she tried to still think of new additions to the design of the mansion they were building. Not long after, the three ---- Yuichi, who was then at the lead; Anabelle who was ambling closely behind the brawler; and Bob ----- arrived at the work site. The chill in the wind still persisted even if the skies were not as pitch-black as earlier, an indication that in an hour or two the mighty sun would finally grace the skies with its light and the earth with its warmth. Bob immediately dispatched the other Bobs to work. All of them complied. They have scattered in the work site to finish their previously assigned tasks. Everyone left, except for the tattooed Caucasian who stood before Yuichi. "Yuichi Ichinose, right? I heard you are spearheading this lovely project here," said the stranger to the brown-haired pretty boy. "And I am looking for a side job to earn me some income before I commence with my travel. I hope still have vacancies." Thereafter, he shifted his eyes to the blonde Felin behind him, the sight of her seemed to elicit a grin on his visage. For somw reason, the act made Anabelle feel uncomfortable, thus out of instinct she hissed and hid behind the pretty boy. The stranger gave a light chuckle before turning to Yuichi once again, waiting for his reply. Hidden Name: ????? Masteries: - Wellness: 150 - Mobility: 150 - Body Combat: 300 - Pierce: 200 - Pyromancy: 200
Anabelle’s instincts took over her entire person upon setting her sights upon the new arrival, a brawny muscle-bound man with a body type that seemed well-suited to the rigors of heavy lifting and other menial tasks. Yuichi himself Inspected the man just to confirm his skill set and wondered why such a man would walk out into a project so brazenly while looking for simple work, but the fighter already knew that he had his reasons to do so. Besides, he was not one to pry about the real reason why the daunting tower of might and muscle specifically wanted to work for them; Yuichi was already set on what he wanted the brawny fellow to do for them in order to help. “Sure, I have a spot open for a nice fellow like you,” he answered with a smile, ignoring his partner’s reaction. “In fact, let’s draft up a contract right now… in your own blood.” Like how a coiled serpent let loose its poisonous fangs, Yuichi only needed a split second to whip out his brass knuckle from his jacket pocket, equip it to his right hand, and deliver a hefty blow to the larger man’s cranium; the brown-haired pretty-boy feeling the grotesque squish of metal against flesh and the crunch of broken bones after a hefty impact. The effects of the act itself needed no direct examination; the man was left unconscious in one hit, now a mass of flesh that fell limp face-first onto the dirt with blood oozing out from the uneven depression dented into the other player-character’s left temple. Just to be sure though, Yuichi followed up his attack by mounting the limp body of the near-dead man and began smashing his loaded fist into the back of the man’s head. While the young man’s attack came down as a random case of physical violence, in actuality, Yuichi knew with a significant degree of certainty that the player-character was one affiliated with Conrad Carlson. There had been many indicators the young man’s keen insight had noted even before the fatal meeting came to pass, but the fact that no NPC batted an eye as to the assault proved without a shadow of a doubt that Yuichi’s suspicions were undoubtedly confirmed. First off, the game system did not allow NPC’s to refer to player characters as such, but when Bob came by and called out for their presence while specifically stating the presence of a player-character, it gave Yuichi the impression that this was TerraSphere’s way of alerting the victims of sexual assault a notification that someone related to the assaulter was present. Second, as a player-character, someone of his status could have easily just taken a quest rather than waste time in a project that neither participant listed as public – thus already adding further suspicion to the man’s intentions. Lastly, and the most damning, was that something like this happened just after Anabelle’s second encounter with Carlson was more than just coincidence; it was like Carlson taunted him about being able to take Anabelle thinking a weakling who ran away before would do the same the second time around. Yuichi was not the same person he was like months before, however; that was something Carlson – and all those affiliated with him – would know. Still, he would have to thank the fiend for such a wonderful addition to their coming attraction. After all, what better way to make a haunted house than to actually make the house haunted by including a human sacrifice in the process? While Yuichi had no idea if it would actually help, at least incorporating a dead body into the attraction would add a much-needed – or rather, much-dreaded – cursed-like appeal to the mansion. Once Yuichi had finished savaging the player-character to the point where he had been rendered nearly headless from the punishing blows, he craned his head towards Anabelle and nodded. “Tell the other workers to continue working so we could just build over this guy’s body,” he ordered as if the young man himself had done nothing beyond the normal. “Oh, and have the Bobs bring some butcher knives to help me chop up this big guy. I want to add some authentic accents to our haunted house by splaying his guts all over the basement.” Of course, he had just killed a man, smashed his head in, and now wanted to make the corpse an actual part of the attraction; but hey, all artists were credited with some degree of eccentricity that balanced their creative prowess. Picasso had an itchy trigger finger, Andy Warhol was aroused by feet, and Yuichi Ichinose uses actual dead bodies in making his haunted house attractions. Besides, he was a criminal, and as far as TerraSphere was concerned, criminals have no right to any kind of respect until they have paid for their crimes. “Now go on; chop-chop, Annie!” A huffed snicker escaped the brawler’s lips. He unintentionally just made a pun.
There was a glimmer of confusion within the felin's gold and azure pools upon hearing the smooth and composed words from brown-haired brawler. The woman failed to understand what Yuichi meant when he and the tattooed stranger would draft a contract in blood. It did sound violent, but the same, or threat, could not be deciphered from the tone of his voice or the very feel of the air surrounding the calm pretty boy. Before she could ask for a clarification, or even before the words could sink it to the target, the confusion left as fast as it came as Anabelle was given an exclusive front-row seat to the barbarity that was Yuichi Ichinose. Horror veiled the lady's winsome countenance as the Human's coated fist landed with force on the stranger's left temple. Blood oozed out of the dent and cut on the head of the stranger, sprinkling and nurturing the ground with his lifeblood as he collapsed. The felin wanted to stop him in pity of the stranger who was once creepy but now a victim of physical assault... but she could not. Anabelle could not move a finger. Cold sweat rolled down from her temple to her cheeks. She stood there, frozen, forced to witness the demon behind Yuichi's angelic form, failing to comprehend the driving force behind every solid punch. Then again, one word nagged her repeatedly as moment after moment the stranger became an unrecognizable pile of flesh: 'trust'. Knowing Yuichi, he would not do anything drastic without a sound reason. His analytic skills were above par hers, and for sure he had seen or noticed something that was more convincing than gut feeling. She has to trust him. He would not do this if they were not in danger, or if the person before them belonged to their mortal enemy. Conrad Carlson, and anything related to him, was Yuichi's trigger. Yeah. Maybe that was it. Once the wolf finished devouring his prey, Anabelle found herself able to breathe again and unconsciously using Inspect on the other playable character. Zero HP. He was dead. Yuichi just killed a person right in front of her. As he craned his head and gave her instructions, the woman blankly stared at him for a few seconds. She gathered her thoughts, before heaving a sigh, "He is one of them, right?" She was sure Yuichi already understood what she meant. Then again, she did not really have to ask. The expression on his face and the fire in his eyes already told her of the answer. Before he could respond or become annoyed of her query, the woman nodded in agreement. Hastily the felin turned on her heel and rushed to the construction several meters away from them. It appeared none of the Bobs paid attention to the crime committed that early in the morning. They continued working. The industrious men created music with the scraping sounds of shovel on cement, the continuous hammering of nail, and the push-pull motions of saw against wood. Anabelle managed to interrupt one of them and ask for butcher knives. This Bob heeded the request, and in no time returned with a black carrying case of butcher knives. Anabelle returned to Yuichi under five minutes. Upon her return, she opened the case to reveal to him the eight-piece wonder. She allowed the brawler-turned-murderer to take one... before she decided to wield one herself. Why? Because during the entire five minutes she was looking for butcher knives, she wondered if there was a liberating feeling in vengeance and violence. "Guide me," said she to the pretty boy. Decisiveness was in her eyes. "Your hands... guide me... let... let me cut him up. I... I want to feel what you felt."
Yuichi paused and looked at Anabelle’s trembling hands as they held the butcher knife with uncertainty and apprehension. Nevertheless, her words held a grim determination from a woman who wanted to take control of her darkness and turn it as the fire to fuel her vengeance. Nevertheless, the fighter still noted that she was not the same as him in that her emotions got in the way of what she wanted to do, unable to shut them out. That was the biggest problem he had with leading her into the dark world he stalked Conrad Carlson it; how she would adapt to the moral blockade that limited her bestial instincts from taking over would be up to her. “That is the problem, Annie – I do not feel anything when I do this,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “When you do something like this against these animals, you have no need to feel anything – no pity or remorse; they are nothing but pests that need to be exterminated. The game agrees, so why should we, too?” Gently, the pretty-boy unmounted the dead man and squatted beside the Felin. With his left hand, he steadied her shaking digits and brought the knife she held close to the cadaver noting, every once in a while, the expressions she would make when he did one move or another. “Just relax your hand, Annie; you are not cutting up a human being. This is an animal; we are the wolves and this is our prey – well, you can be a tiger since you are a cat, but still, you get what I mean. Be brutal, but be precise; be wild, but be contained – that is the pure mentality of a beast that you need to learn. We do not bare our fangs to those who are not our prey, but when we do, we do so with force.” Yuichi continued while the Bobs continued to build their haunted house. “Sadly, your ‘fangs’ exhibits only fear right now. When you counter, it's because you fear being killed. When you attack, you fear killing. And when you protect someone, you fear you could let them die. At this point, the only thing your sword speaks is senseless fright, and that is not good.” The fighter then guided Anabelle’s knife towards the dead man’s thick neck and proceeded with his point. “What you do not need in battle is fear – nothing will come of it. A beast may fear from time to time, but even then, it attacks with intent. Thus, when you counter, you do not let them cut you. When you protect someone, you do not let them die. And when you attack—” The knife plunged deep into the cadaver’s blue flesh, sinking into the meat until the hilt. Remnants of rancid blood spewed out to stain the Felin’s hands which, hopefully, had become as steady as Yuichi hoped they would be for now. “—you kill.” Several Hours Later You stand almost hypnotized by conflicting emotions of fear and curiosity, silently gazing at the dilapidated house given life to by unknown hands. You begin to shiver as though ice had replaced your spine, thanks partially to the cold sea air that enveloped your entire body. However, not even multiple layers of clothing would protect you against the deathly cold that came from within you, born from a primal fear of the unknown inherent in all sentient being regardless of shape, size, or race. It was the one thing that made all equal, and the structure before them now was just that – it was fear incarnate. A single, time-worn walkway led up to house; the dead trees that lined the sides of the path like pilgrims with their hands raised high in praise of some pagan god, informing of the fresh sacrifice that was about to come. Red roses grow wildly in thick batches by the gate, almost as if staining the entryway with blood and deter all passersby from entering the cursed place. The light from the moon cast a ghoulish glow on the structure, the rotting vines on its side forming a twisted maze of green upon the side; reaching their tentacles towards the roof and into the cracks into. The mansion's walls showed black decay by purposeful neglect, the splotches of original paint hinting at the owner’s former prosperity before some tragedy forced them to abandon whatever wealth they had. Cobwebs covered the corners of the doors, tiny black spiders threading towards their prey; adding a final touch to the manor of damned, fit for the kings and queens of the supernatural. You tell yourself that it was not real, but your trembling lips and clammy hands belie that thought. You want to go back – to forget this horrible place and leave whatever sleeping entity that dwelled within alone. However, you are forced by your own curiosity; you know something bad is bound to happen. Nevertheless, you take a single step towards your own damnation. The door begrudgingly creaked open when you pushed it; you curse yourself, noting that the noise could have awoken the secrets that should have stayed secret. A musty, dank order creeps into your nose, but you ignore it. You have no intention to confirm whether or not it belonged to a corpse or not. You call out for anyone to sate your anxiety, but the house was dead silence except for the intermittent creaks and moans from the rotting wood that now had to support the footsteps of a live visitor. You look up to see black and brown mold that dotted the ceiling in clusters, evident of years of rain seeping through the roof. Unwilling to stay and endure the oppressive darkness of the entryway, you quietly entered the dark living room with a stone in your throat. Windows covered with grime and dirt welcome you into the ordered madness, the calm moonlight struggling to penetrate the choking darkness in thin rays. Sharp shadows roamed around the room; you know it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but nothing you could do could stave off the crawling fear that crept up your back. The sofa and chairs suddenly overturned, revealing deep grooves on the ground where they used to sit. Something had just forced them to tumble. You panic and try to run back where you came in, but it was too late – the door had already shut. You are now trapped inside this cursed manor. You run up the splitting staircase and see a large jagged hole dug through the middle wall that dared any to enter, or at least peek into the unknown, instead of running either left or right. You enter the hole as if pulled in by some unseen force and see picture frames that hung off-center from a misplaced grand bookcase that stood the corner of the room, undisturbed for a long time, which begged the question as to what else the force that overturned the furniture in the living room was capable of moving such a weight. If one were to correctly guess, selecting the correct book could reveal a secret doorway into a labyrinth that led into the bowels of the haunted house where the secret of its damnation lay hidden. To brave the depths meant to risk horrors beyond your imagination, but at the same time, it might be the only way to your salvation. Should you choose to go back into the hallway, you would see a sliver of light coming from behind a door. You would be tempted to approach and open the door. If you do, you would find out that the room was that of a grand bathroom, dust swirling around like bubbles floating in some infernal sea. The medicine cabinet mirror lay shattered in pieces on the floor tile. Empty medicine bottles lay in the porcelain wash bowl, where a closer look would reveal the discoloration of the water – a malady-brown concoction from which emanated a rank odor you remember from when you first entered the house. A lone mouse stood sentry at the bottom of the tub. Never having a visitor in a while, it curiously eyed me before scuttling away into the darkness, just before that same darkness took shape before your very eyes. You try to scream for help, but fail. After all, dead men’s words hold no meaning in this cursed place. Do not let it catch you. Escape your fate. Or succumb— “— sounds like a good description of our haunted mansion, right?” Yuchi asked, his physique from top to toe stained with the gore of his kill. By his feet, stacked in a neat pile, were body parts and internal organs from the dead player-character, ready to be used to add finishing touches to the mansion that was slowly taking shape before their very eyes. It was only the second day, but with the Bobs working non-stop, they were as good as done already. “What do you think, Annie? Does the house you designed look as creepy as you envisioned it to be?”
Yuichi's observation of the Felin was accurate: while she was decided to overcome the chains that bound her, there was still fear that plagued her entirety that stopped her from fully showing her fangs or simply to move on with her life. The trembling hand that wielded the knife and every stutter in her words were more than enough to prove this point. There was no need to go beyond these apparent involuntary actions for one to conclude the same. But it seemed not to daunt the woman. While first few words of the brawler struck the woman's heart as they seemed to chastise her and rub it in her face that she was not enough nor prepared to handle this grim task, Anabelle managed not for a single moment dwell on them and have her mood dampened by it. Instead, flames started to angrily burn her chest which brought her to a point that she was willing to tear off any veil of fear or uncertainty noted by the human while making sure such anger was not towards him who only stated his observations. The flames that succumbed her made the woman cling tighter to her resolve; the once pretty pools of gold and azure became knife-like slits as she gritted her teeth to hold back spewing poison in order to prove herself... because such hostility was not needed for the human was more than generous to lead her to the dark side. As he did. Anabelle steeled herself as Yuichi held her hand and had the sharp edge of the knife trace a deep incision on the prey's neck. She could hear and feel the tearing of skin and flesh like paper against a sharp blade even if for the first few seconds she found herself gawking with bated breath at the formation of the slit as what was left of the stranger's lifeblood oozed out of it. But, once she noticed this unwanted reaction, she forced herself to recover from it and attempted to steady her hand the way brown-haired murderer was trying to teach her. As he lectured her, the Felin took note and internalize of the lessons as she began to let go of the apprehensions and remorse, until nothing was left but the desire to get even --- to get a prey and slay it. Thus, the moment the fighter plunged the knife they were holding deeper into the blue flesh Conrad Carlson's underling, not a yelp could be heard from her nor a tinge of being taken aback could be felt. Instead, she swung her hand in the same motions as Yuichi did while savoring the sensation of the fluid gracing her skin --- a trophy. Soon there was two of them sharing the prey, cutting open the man's body to make sure he was dead and to extract from him his innards. Anabelle was given the privilege to slice open the man's chest and pluck out his heart, which was as easy as picking out a grape out of its bunch. The woman's free hand grasped the lump of muscle, blood dripping down between her fingers but who cared about getting soiled with it? She smirked and whispered to herself ---- "One day, this will be Conrad Carlson's." Several Hours Later Smears and specks of crimson coated Anabelle's white shirt. From her hand and cheek could be seen more traces of the same fluid. The same was true with the man beside her, albeit his covered more of his entirety than hers. Their picture was that of a pair of angels whose beauty was clouded with gore, and this gore only helped in giving an irresistible spice in the eyes of whoever was it looking at them. The same inviting sight was reflected by the edifice that stood tall before Yuichi and Anabelle. She stared at the magnificence of the completed mansion. She was amazed at how even the tiniest details of the sketch she made were translated to reality. It was a mix of beauty and horror, and it pleased her. She turned to Yuichi and gave a nod one he finished giving vivid descriptions of the completed mansion, "this was more than what I expected." Thereafter, she crouched and picked up a pile of the organs that laid on Yuichi's feet, nevermind how much more she would be dirtied. "Let us not wait for another second, dear. Let's deck the halls with liver and intestines, tra-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la. "
