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[center][color=52b2cf]Event: Primitive Nine[/color][/center]
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[indent][color=dimgray]Moving to one of the many port cities that inhabited the coast of Xochiyeteteo didn’t do much in the way for her research as she had originally anticipated. Who would have known there wasn’t much in the way of crime that led to the disposal of corpses in the waters to sink to the bottom of the sea. It would have been easy work with both parties profiting, but alas, the only thing Yansee came up was with rogue coins and the occasional hat or random article of clothing falling into the darkness, beckoning for a body to plunge. The port cities were rather dead when there were no ships in port, which led her to venture around tediously looking for work or anything that would point her in the direction of disposable income or bodies. Eventually, the complacency plaguing her research had vexed her to the point she needed to venture further into the country to find a capital city or one up to par in terms of magnanimity. While she didn’t enjoy the idea of being landlocked instead of by the familiar shores, she knew she what took precedence. Asking around had led her to the same lingering answer, An Zenui. 

The decadence displayed upon mere moments of entering the city walls had blinded the young Eeaiko, the seas had no such structure. Water was free and constantly flowing, changing, but this city had been weathered and eroded for years, yet still stood strong, sandwiched between a canyon. The exchange of water for sand was something else that kept her throat and pores parched. Something she would have to remedy the more familiar she became with her living situation. The exaggerated reactions, though warranted, she gave to seeing sirrahi and cazenax were returned to her, she was as foreign to them as they were to her. She was a real fish out of water, despite hating the common misconception of her people’s genealogy. Her broken language served her well enough to start off with tiny odd jobs that put her in shelter and kept her fed. Persistent and tenacious as always, Yansee found herself working in the primitive version of hospice within the city walls. The easiest way to cultivate corpses without having to wait too long. Though, in a city such as An Zenui, her actions, despite discrete, would not go unnoticed.

Her formidable skill in body disposal had earned her a proposition from an organization higher than she could have imagined. She would become of service to someone she only knew as Wesca. From then on, she had saw personally to disposals without question or hesitance. There was monetary compensation, but Yansee only cared for the dead. She pilfered, zombified, and piloted many a body with minor demon in hopes of a perfect homunculus. 

[color=white][u][i]Current day[/i][/u][/color] 

Rays of light that once bled through the curtains in her room, had sunk back and replaced with the dim luminance of the stars above. Yansee clenched the worn leather of a journal she had pressed to her chest, she ruminated in her head if she had overlooked anything with her 891st failed experiment. To no avail in articulating any fault she stuffed the pencil from her mouth into the spine of her journal before closing it and turning out the candles that lined the walls around the head of her bed. Just as she got comfortable a knock could be heard at her door. An utterance of agitation left he lungs, smothering her face with a pillow in hopes it would kill her. Against her better judgement the semi-aquatic being rose to meet her guest. A sirrahi greeted the young necromancer, noting she was to be summoned to Wesca’s residence. 

Yansee acquiesced, ignoring the need to change into something more fitting. Her readiness to meet Wesca was unanticipated by the guards, holding her at the gates until she was ready. A few moments passed and as if telepathically told, did the gates open and was she allowed to pass. Yansee found herself in the couple’s garden, a place she had grown familiar with, only to see Wesca walking over while dusting her hands off. An oddity for someone of her status to have dust on her hands, but Yansee overlooked the thought. Making herself at home she saw the prospect of imbibing some quality beverage perched near the overlook. Just as the cool metal reached her lips, she caught vision of someone not as lucky at the bottom of the cliff. Wesca dusting off her hands, the sudden sheen of cleanliness on the overlook, and the fullness of the other cups led her to the conclusion Wesca had poisoned whoever made the ill decision to cross her. 

Clearing her throat, she set the cup back down and found a seat across from Wesca. A job, what she had expected. Unlike the ones she had been given before. There would be a litany of corpses, only after she killed them, to her dismay, for her to experiment on to her heart’s desire. Honestly, she could have stopped there, and it would have been enough, but the prospect of more coins than she knew what to do with and anticipation of converting a dragon into one of her undead puppets had sent her heart a flutter as long as she played along with murdering those aforementioned. Agreeing to the contract, Yansee went to gather her things and set out before first light to Netsazai. 

Arriving there first had given her vantage points and time to set up for her upcoming battle. It didn’t take long for the presence of a dragon to be felt arriving. As Wesca predicted the woman known as Zarina had Cuimits in tow. Yansee had closed the distance to a comfortable amount calling over to her bounty, [color=52b2cf]“Oi, sou yoo aur tee wun eyem lookeen faur”[/color]. A small bubble of corpses, including her fathers, encircled her, her fathers leaning in to offer his excellence. [color=FF6962]“That dragon is going to turn us into kebobs you know?”[/color]
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