[center][h1]Predictions[/h1] [img]http://i.imgur.com/uvX201s.png[/img][/center] Location: St. Thomas’ Cemetery, several blocks out of ChinaTown within Lost Haven Time: Around Nightfall (just past sunset) [hr] Rach walked across the manicured lawns within the cemetery. Her steps were quiet and respectful among the dead resting under the dirt, her eyes searching for Joseph Mathers’ grave. Part of her instinct always hated the dead because it made her question how many lives her bastard father had ended, her personal issues refused to find any answers and felt it was better left that way. A bright, peach rose was held in her gloved hand for an offering since she could never repay the debt he paid in his attempt to aid her rescue. According to the woman she bought it from, it meant gratitude and seemed fitting toward his sacrifice. Even if she hated the fact it costed him his life. She was dressed in her Nemesis outfit, her dark color blending well in the growing shadows, before finally coming to rest at a headstone. It was a bit rustic in nature. Rach’s eyes traced along the few scattered chipping here and there over the edge, then the corners and sides holding knotting vine work that wove across the surface in a elegant design. She reached out to touch the front where the main attention attracting image laid: an imp’s head with a thorned crown encircling it stood. Surprisingly, she thought, nothing over grew or marred the menacing carving within the stone. Like the gardener took special care not to all time itself to marr the craftsman’s work. Racheli sighed then crouched down, gently setting the rose upon the base of the tombstone. She felt bitter and hollow inside, knowing deep down he died because of her and she could never repay that debt. It was the price people usually paid when they got involved with her. Her feet brought her back upright just when a shiver slide down her spine. Upon a far wall separating the cemetery from the outside world, the sacred circle that marked this place as hallowed ground, the same infernal symbol appeared, ashen scribed by crimson light. There it stood, the arcane door that called one back to an era of myth and magic, that lead to another world. From beyond the veil of reality he came, Puck, the meddlesome imp whose touch had been felt across Lost Haven for decades, especially as of late. He came like an omen of death, dressed all in black save his red tie, black antlers protruding from his head complementing his handsome, angular features. He glided across the ground, closing the distance between himself and Racheli, hands folded behind his back. [color=A52A2A][b]”Come to pay your respects?”[/b][/color] he spoke in an eerie, seductive voice with an accent one couldn’t quite place. Rach paused. Her mask had been replaced after she rose from near the grave, her vision observing the being before her. Puck was almost human despite the fact he sported horns and more demonic qualities to him which caused her to pause in her step. Her stare lingered there for several moments. Either digesting the fact or debating on she react, something even she was having a hard time determining herself. Her instincts were rattling at his attire which seemed more suitable for a funeral rather than a mere visit to a grave. She narrowed her tighter, her body turned to face the thing and stared a moment longer. Racheli finally began to speak, her mentality tapping into her metal upon her body should the conversation go south. [color=indianred] “I didn’t get a chance to stop him, so I might as well leave my gratitude. It felt right.”[/color] [color=A52A2A][b]”A lovely gesture, even more so were he actually buried here. The ashes, bones, and entrails of dead witches are a hot commodity in my world, and so rare these days. I thought it best not to tempt any of his enemies or rivals by having his corpse so obviously displayed.”[/b][/color] Puck spoke with an even tone, making him seem indifferent, but in fact he was just as remorseful as Racheli. Joseph was one of the few humans Puck had chosen to love. He was Joseph’s mentor, guardian, and friend. He wouldn’t allow his name to be furthered smeared by the desecration of his grave. [color=indianred] “Considerate, aren’t you?”[/color] Rach asked, her tone tainted with slight sarcasm. She inhaled and tried to clear her emotions, thankful that her virus was mysteriously quiet for the moment. [color=indianred] “I take it you knew him?”[/color] Puck nodded. [color=A52A2A][b]”Joseph Mathers and I were well acquainted. He’s been under my care since 1698. He was a valued employee of mine . . . and a valued friend.”[/b][/color] Puck’s voice didn’t waver, but his eyes, his red, serpentine eyes, betrayed his steady tone. They reflected his hurt, anger, and remorse. Puck stood silent for a brief moment, looking at the grave longingly before returning his gaze to Racheli. [color=A52A2A][b]”Where are my manners? I am Robin Goodfellow, Puck to my friends.”[/b][/color] he bowed as he introduced himself, a highly formal salutation, but one he preferred. Rach didn’t say anything at first. Nothing she could come up or say would’ve benefitted the demon’s pain, a fact she knew all too well having lost her Aunt several months back. Her fist tightened with frustration at her helplessness and continued to bit her lip until he finally introduced himself, her expression showed her curiosity at his name then flickered away. [color=indianred] “My friend gave me the nick Nemesis, but my real name doesn’t really matter much anymore.”[/color] Puck chuckled. [color=A52A2A][b]”You Lost Haven folk and your aliases. But I can respect not wanting to give your name. It is an old practice, the use of aliases and nicknames. Keeps one protected from beings who could use your name against you or bind you with it. All words carry power, but names have a special magic about them.”[/b][/color] Puck rambled on. Racheli was an interesting girl. Despite her role in Joseph’s death, he knew that she was troubled. If Joseph would go through all the trouble to save her, even if for selfish reasons, Puck would remain civil. [color=indianred] “I never put much thought into it honestly, but I do know one thing: It’s safer if I don’t tell anyone my name. For them and myself. So if you were a friend, why didn’t stop him?”[/color] Racheli knew the words would refresh bitter feelings, but the desire to understand gnawed at her. Maybe it was because she still held guilt over what happened and the worst part, she was too weak to stop it. She was ferociously independent and it reflected in most everything she did because at some point, everyone would always leave when they discovered how twisted she was inside. It was fact she knew deep inside would never stop happening. Puck shifted slightly as he thought. [color=A52A2A][b]”I have asked myself the same question many times, but I know the answer. It is in my nature to meddle in the affairs of mortal; this has been my favorite pastime for over a thousand years. But it is also in my nature to watch, to see what mortals do with the gifts they are given. I never gave Joseph power, I merely exploited it. However, the two of us became close and I did help him in the past. He was obsessed with fame, always wanting his name to be remembered, always wanting to be known as a great and terrible witch. I did what I could for him, but I knew that it wasn’t meant to be. Even in the end, I foresaw failure. So why did I allow him to risk his life for a stranger you ask?”[/b][/color] Puck gave it a moment before responding. [color=A52A2A][b]”In truth . . . to see what would happen.”[/b][/color] Racheli found herself accepting this truth through for different reasons. Even if Puck tried his damn hardest to alter Joseph’s view, it wouldn’t have been enough and the man would’ve found some other way to get himself killed. Likely in a worse way, through she didn’t know the details about what happened in the Ironworks. [color=indianred] “Either way, it likely wouldn’t have made a difference I suppose. We… I mean, humans,”[/color] Rach corrected herself, realizing with a hint of depression in her voice she was no longer one,[color=indianred]“can be a stupid breed after all. We...they don’t know when to quit but maybe that’s a strength as well. It’s hard to tell sometimes when you’re dealing with the aftermath.”[/color] Puck gave a wicked grin. [color=A52A2A][b]”How right you are,”[/b][/color] he said, turning his back to Racheli and walking slowly back to the mystic door. He called back to her as he walked. [color=A52A2A][b]”But in the end, we all succumb to our nature. Human or not, it is a fate we cannot escape. But therein lies a choice . . . will we accept the monster we are to become and live at peace with it, become empowered by it; or will we fight the corruption to the bitter end and become consumed by it?”[/b][/color] Puck reached the door to The Red Devil and turned back to Racheli, still sporting that famous grin. [color=A52A2A][b]”Which will you do, I wonder? It has been a pleasure . . . ‘Nemesis’.”[/b][/color] The door to The Red Devil shut slowly behind him, fading into the wall until there was nothing but the coarse stone. The ethereal glow of Puck’s presence faded as well, bathing the cemetery in darkness once more save the light of the moon and distant street lamps.