The crazy bat looked over the mutilated corpse of a particular blonde Russian. Head tilted to the side, peering down with eyes that glimmered with the touch of insanity that had 'touched' her mind. A lipstick smudged white filter clutched between painted fingers, the deep burgundy polish chipped in a variety of places. She finished the cigarette with one last hit, a small and pink tongue lashing out across her lips before a twitching gesture of her head turning to the side to exhale the smoke between her dark lips. Flicking aside the cigarette, the spent filter bounced and splattered embers on the concrete floor.
An agent of Chaos, Retribution's last Champion who'd lost her mind through her psionic abilities. Hair that never seemed able to be tamed by any utensil known to man, almost ashen pale flesh that contrasted with the darkness of her eyes and hair. Neat, coal brows a drastic contrast to the pallid flesh, shadows around her eyes that no amount of rest or makeup seemed able to cover. A body that was thin, yet still held the healthy curves before she'd lost her mind. Clad in a dress that fit her body snugly, obsidian in color and made of a fabric that had a peculiar sheen to it. Off-shoulder and a pencil skirt style, three quarter sleeves that cupped her forearms tightly. For a human, she was an anomaly. Well over two centuries old, yet still looked fresh faced enough to look to be in her thirties with exception to the shadowed circles around her eyes. That was Abbigael Coatsworth, a Chaos Agent, a double agent. Working for both Chaos' Eris and Retribution's Nemesis.
Having been told of the death of Zver, the gruesome details revealed to her by Eris herself through the Golden Apple, a little idea ticked in the back of her head. Just a little one, one that began to grow like wildfire when told by a peculiar time mage by the name of Jillian Cleric the whereabouts of the corpse. He'd been powerful, that was to be sure. One of Erebus' favorites, one of those Cold Harbor creatures that had managed to escape. Human....yet not human at all. A Soul Shriven. She'd known him when he was 'alive'....if one could really call that living. Poor sap, born normal though a bit psychopathic by Midgard standards.....tortured and twisted, mindfucked and manipulated, through means of extreme psychological ingenious to become a sociopathic killing machine. Lacking anger....lacking fear....able to kill at the crack of a whip with no remorse, and be calm and calculated while doing it. "Genius," muttered the insane woman.
Pressing her hands to the cold, metallic table where the cadaver rested sans a heart. Torn out by his very first girlfriend, at that. "You have been quite the heartbreaker, love," she cooed to the body, though he was very clearly far from hearing her words. It didn't matter at all to her as she brushed the tainted blonde locks away from the forehead of the dead body. "But today's your lucky day..." she whispered, lowering herself as she whispered into deaf ears. "One time deal, sweetheart. I'm going to bring you back..." A crazed smile spread across her lips as chaotic excitement flickered in her dark orbs. Rising to her full height, she moved to a doctor's metal tool table, retrieving a small box crafted especially for the tool held inside.
Opening the box, as the lid rose to expose the item inside, a bright glow contorted the shadows on the mad woman's face, brightening areas while darkening other angles. Flame flickered in those dark orbs, brightening them and forcing them to come to life as her fingers dipped into the box to collect the lone feather received from the Phoenix. One she'd had for centuries, given especially by a peculiar madman whom she'd once been lovers with. She'd saved it more for her Barghest familiar than herself, but impulsive chaos had brought her to take the body from a Night Eater's home and bring the corpse to the abandoned asylum. Looking over her shoulder, her smile was soft and she almost looked sorry for him. "This is going to burn, love..."
An agent of Chaos, Retribution's last Champion who'd lost her mind through her psionic abilities. Hair that never seemed able to be tamed by any utensil known to man, almost ashen pale flesh that contrasted with the darkness of her eyes and hair. Neat, coal brows a drastic contrast to the pallid flesh, shadows around her eyes that no amount of rest or makeup seemed able to cover. A body that was thin, yet still held the healthy curves before she'd lost her mind. Clad in a dress that fit her body snugly, obsidian in color and made of a fabric that had a peculiar sheen to it. Off-shoulder and a pencil skirt style, three quarter sleeves that cupped her forearms tightly. For a human, she was an anomaly. Well over two centuries old, yet still looked fresh faced enough to look to be in her thirties with exception to the shadowed circles around her eyes. That was Abbigael Coatsworth, a Chaos Agent, a double agent. Working for both Chaos' Eris and Retribution's Nemesis.
Having been told of the death of Zver, the gruesome details revealed to her by Eris herself through the Golden Apple, a little idea ticked in the back of her head. Just a little one, one that began to grow like wildfire when told by a peculiar time mage by the name of Jillian Cleric the whereabouts of the corpse. He'd been powerful, that was to be sure. One of Erebus' favorites, one of those Cold Harbor creatures that had managed to escape. Human....yet not human at all. A Soul Shriven. She'd known him when he was 'alive'....if one could really call that living. Poor sap, born normal though a bit psychopathic by Midgard standards.....tortured and twisted, mindfucked and manipulated, through means of extreme psychological ingenious to become a sociopathic killing machine. Lacking anger....lacking fear....able to kill at the crack of a whip with no remorse, and be calm and calculated while doing it. "Genius," muttered the insane woman.
Pressing her hands to the cold, metallic table where the cadaver rested sans a heart. Torn out by his very first girlfriend, at that. "You have been quite the heartbreaker, love," she cooed to the body, though he was very clearly far from hearing her words. It didn't matter at all to her as she brushed the tainted blonde locks away from the forehead of the dead body. "But today's your lucky day..." she whispered, lowering herself as she whispered into deaf ears. "One time deal, sweetheart. I'm going to bring you back..." A crazed smile spread across her lips as chaotic excitement flickered in her dark orbs. Rising to her full height, she moved to a doctor's metal tool table, retrieving a small box crafted especially for the tool held inside.
Opening the box, as the lid rose to expose the item inside, a bright glow contorted the shadows on the mad woman's face, brightening areas while darkening other angles. Flame flickered in those dark orbs, brightening them and forcing them to come to life as her fingers dipped into the box to collect the lone feather received from the Phoenix. One she'd had for centuries, given especially by a peculiar madman whom she'd once been lovers with. She'd saved it more for her Barghest familiar than herself, but impulsive chaos had brought her to take the body from a Night Eater's home and bring the corpse to the abandoned asylum. Looking over her shoulder, her smile was soft and she almost looked sorry for him. "This is going to burn, love..."