Rolling in the Deep [Amelie & Nuru]

[Imogen & Rakshasa]

Quiet day. Imogen craned her neck up, regarding the clear sky with a concentrated stare. It wasn't often that the sky was so cloudless and bright out. Her maroon eyes peered up, staring at the blue void above her. This city was so unfamiliar to her, at least compared to the long, winding streets of a city she once occupied a long time ago. Come to think of it, what was the name of it? Her mind stirred in thought before a deep, gravely voice echoed in her mind.

"My dear, weren't you doing something?"


....Ah, right.

She adjusted her posture, nodding a bit before walking down the dry sidewalks. Not unlike her usual dress, the arm of the white long-sleeved safari-style blouse was rolled to her elbows, the other sleeve torn at the seems where the remained her arm hung. A dark tank beneath the dress shirt covered beneath it, followed by a pair of mid-height shorts... she just didn't feel like a skirt today. Too hot. Lastly, puma etoile's adorned on her feet. The girl meandered down the street, her bushel of dark, curly black hair hung in her eyes and pooled onto her shoulders, accented by the very large, sharp canine hears on her skull. Not exactly the vision of beauty, not that she cared. She tried not to draw attention to herself, but the ears and the sword on the back had a tendency to blow that out of the water.

Imogen had been intent of getting a few things together today, hoping to get everything together before her schooling would start once again. She wasn't all keen on the idea, but it was a point of much-needed normalcy in her life of everything-but. It was something she clung to that reminded her she was still a human, despite how much she wondered.

Perhaps her endeavors would be more fruitful if she had a clue which direction she was going. She picked a direction and walked. With hindsight, this was not the best of ideas, but she'd find something eventually, right? It wasn't until a pang in her stomach started to groan that she realized she was hungry.... shouldn't she eat something? When was the last time, anyways? Imogen paused for a moment, looking a bit disgruntled after a particularly large groan.


"I should eat," she thought.

"Better watch that, you don't want to ruin that girlish figure of yours"


Imogen furrowed her brows, giving a mental frown directed at the ethereal creature in her body. Dick. He had a habit of calling her fat a lot. Then again, he had a habit of being a dick to anything breathing, really. Imogen approached a city-bus bench, the area relatively quiet. A bit weary from hunger, she leaned back for a moment as if to reach. That is, she did until an all-too-familiar voice erupted from her maw.


"PARDON MY PARTICULARLY LARGE THIGHS FROM TAKING UP THIS ENTIRE BENCH, I sure hope none of you were keen on the idea of SITTING,"

The Bartghest chortled a bit at the end. Imogen slapped her single hand on her mouth, looking severely annoyed now. He was antsy about something, he had to be, he always turned into a particularly bad prick whenever he was. Rakshasa had a penchant for being stupidly withdrawn and quiet when it came to his true feelings and intentions. When upset or stressed enough, he took it out in abrupt ways. This was one of those particular ways. He wasn't exactly Mr.Personality in those respects.


"Are you done?" she hissed.

"Yes. No. Maybe. I'll think about it."

[Amélie Desmarais & Nuru]

<sub>((Oh man, I hope my intro post isn't too long and rambly. ;u;))

It was, for anyone caring to take note, something of a beautiful day down in South Isle, what with the endless stretch of azure high above and the sun as hot and intense as ever. Amélie, for the most part, was basking in the heat where others seemed to have been withering. The chubby girl always adored the warmth, the way the sun tickled her skin (her freckled complexion was hint enough of this). But most of all she loved it’s light, and with good reason. It kept a particular someone at bay, at least, until sunset reared its unwanted head and brought them out. For now, she shoved the undesirable thought to the back of her mind, even if that someone hovered in the peripheral of her vision.

From the corner of her eye, it shifted, slithered across her wall with its yellow eyes gleaming. Where are you going? Amélie dared to ignore it for the time being, making her way over to her dresser. It flitted again, across her field of vision before it nestled in some dark corner. Amélie. Where are you going? Her mouth became a thin line of determination as she sifted through her tops; picked a simple white tank and a matching bolero to go with it.

Why are you ignoring me? I don’t like being ignored. With a shake of her head, she sorted through her pants and withdrew a pair of dark wash jeans. Amélie, its voice had the quality of two people speaking at once. Stop ignoring me. Tell me where you’re going. Nuru drawled. She whirled around then, and with all the angry petulance of a toddler, stared at the creature whose features vaguely resembled that of an elongated panther with stubbed limbs.

Go away, Nuru. The shadowy being hesitated, its body wavering like some candle’s flame. Those milky, yellow eyes seemed to bore into Amélie, and it was all she could do to stand her ground. Silence filled the room as neither spoke. Amélie welcomed, adored, the silence in her mind, however short-lived it may have been.

Why? It asked at last. You know I can’t do that, Amélie. You know I can’t. It's part of our contract. Did you forget? The voice she wished to forget seemed to echo insider her head. Some days, she wondered if she was even sane at all, and if Nuru wasn’t just something her insanity fabricated. Schizophrenia wasn’t so unlikely, she mused. Without giving Nuru an answer, she headed for the washroom to change out of her pajamas.

For the rest of the morning, Nuru pestered her incessantly with its questions and harangued her until she thought she would snap. It was hard, sometimes, to appear normal in front of your friend as you shared breakfast over the dinner table when you had some being of shadows lingering in the background. Thankfully, her friend wasn't cursed with the ability to see ghosts or creatures. Made explaining Nuru all that easier, since she didn't have to at all.

By mid-afternoon, Amélie found herself in the heart of South Isle, relishing in the fact that she was relatively free of Nuru, though it still skulked in what darkness it could find. The girl ran a hand through her strawberry blonde waves that fell across her shoulders. Once again, she had forgotten to clip back her bangs, and they fell in her eyes every so often. For the most part, her hair was wild and seemingly unmanageable, not that she minded.

She rounded a street corner, Nuru always following close behind in the shade some fences provided. Readjusting her purse, Amélie spotted a dark-haired girl dressed in a white blouse and mid-length shorts a little ways down the street. What really stood out about the otherwise normal looking girl was her arm--or rather, what was left of it.

But that did not turn out to be the strangest thing about her, however, as a demonic voice erupted from her mouth not long after.

She's possessed. Nuru said simply, not even caring to hide its obvious amusement. It wasn't like possessed individuals were anything new in South Isle, but that did not mean it was any less intimidating when one met someone of that persuasion.

Thank you, captain obvious. She hurled back, making her way over to the stranger.

"Are you okay?" she ventured, voice steady and calm, though fear made its rounds inside of her.

Do not bug her, you fool. Leave her be. Let us not be entangled in something we are not part of. This is between her and her possessor, whatever it may be. Once more, Amélie found herself ignoring Nuru.</sub>

[Imogen & Rakshasa]

Imogen bit her lip, staring out at the crowds that walked around her. They seemed a bit weirded out by the masculine voice that echoed from her maw, but otherwise not deterred from going about their day (in a slightly more weirded out way). The dark-haired girl sighed, leaning her back into the slats of wood that lined the bench. It smelled faintly of things Imogen was better off not describing, and she left it at that. She closed her eyes, as if mock-sleeping on the bench behind her. He tussle of black hair fell behind her in a wavy waterfall over the wooden ledge, her shoulders relaxing, one hand in her lap. For once, she looked quite calm, though this was not the case at all for her. She was, in fact, terrible exasperated and trying to calm down. Still, within the vicinity of her head, a shadowy canine figure sat at the ground, it's head bowed deeply with it's shoulders protruding high up. A crouched, careful and watchful position.

A quiet voice pipped up, making her ears perk up a bit, catching the noise. They twitched a bit before the girl slowly sat up and opened her eyes, turning to face the sound of the voice. She was in a somewhat close range to her, meaning she was likely talking to her. This was all Rakshasa's fault, no doubt. The girl's bright eyes were a strange hue of read, so vivid in colour they almost seemed to glow. She stared out at the girl, her face like a statue. She didn't emote, she didn't say a word, she didn't even blink. Her eyes locked onto the young girl's, whether she looked back at her or not, like it was an important focus to her. In reality, she was just sizing her up on a first impression.

Baggy eyes, likely a light sleeper-- even an insomniac. Wavy hair that curved and pooled around her shoulders. Fine hair, common in blondes and lighter hair-colours. A touch more fat on her body than some, making her more curvaceous. Likely not a problem, most guys were into that look anyways. Maybe not many dating problems? She dressed well enough, anyways. Tanned skin, freckled, she probably goes outside quite a bit. She was kinda short, too. At least she was cute, though, Imogen's ragged and lanky appearance didn't have such of the appeal.

Consensus, for now, was that she was your average teenager. Didn't look much older or younger than she did, probably around her age.

Imogen, finally, blinked. She used her single arm to reach into her pocket and pull out a ribbed notebook with a pencil in the coil. She pried it out, placed the notebook on her lap, then wrote on it. Amazingly, she wrote like the wind. After a few seconds, she held up the notebook to face the stranger. Imogen used cursive writing, something not common in writing these days. It was rather fancy and well-written, considering how fast she went.

I am fine, and nothing is wrong. Your consideration is appreciated, but not needed.

She emoted for a moment- just a moment- raising her eyebrows a bit as if she forgot something. She pulled back the notebook, adding to the bottom.

I uh... apologize for my thighs taking up the bench. My apologies.

Rakshasa cackled in her mind. With that, she shuffled a bit in the chair, moving to the other side. She hoped that would deter the stranger from asking more about the noise she made, though remembering she forgot her hat. She moved her hand up to her head, patting her ears for a moment. Right.... crap. Lot of good that'd do. Rakshasa started up his laughing again, just when he started to calm down. Jerk. He had the most annoying laugh ever, like a Hyena crossed with a growling wolf... she thought she could hear some shrieking in there, too.

Idly, she brought her hand up to the stump where her arm ended, scratching it a bit to try and avoid thinking of Rakshasa. She kept the notebook in her lap, in case the girl needed anything else.

[Amélie Desmarais & Nuru]

Up close, Imogen was more than met the eye. Only then did Amélie notice the hound’s ears sticking up from her wavy, dark hair. But those eyes. Those eyes were what she noticed first, what with the way they stood out so against her dark, dark, hair. They were red, red as blood. Amélie did her best not to stare overlong, lest she be thought of as rude. The shadowy canine figure gave her a bad vibe, and she didn’t meet its eyes. Couldn’t. Not that she wanted to—why stare at the ground like a moron when people filed past her and Imogen? Draw attention to something that wasn’t there for them? Clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders and gazed at the other girl expectantly.

Imogen’s face was expressionless at best, her ruby eyes locking with her own slate gray hues. She would have shuddered, if doing so wasn’t rude. But she just sat there, said nothing, blinked naught. Frankly, it was a little unnerving. And that dog thing that possessed her—Nuru’s eerie laughter echoed in her head suddenly.

It could probably rip your throat out, take you out with one paw—did you see the size of them, Amélie? Why, the thing’s the size of a bloody horse!

Can it. Fear, ice-cold and unwanted, began to lap at her shaky confidence.

You better be careful, little Amélie… lest you rile them up. I would hate to see you injured, dear.

Subtly, she shot the shadow being a glare. It sat snugly under the bench, staring up at her. It paid neither the barghest nor Imogen any heed. Nuru. Shut the fuck up. It cackled once more before it finally lapsed into silence. Before Amélie knew it, Imogen whipped out a notebook and wrote swiftly.

”Why are you—“

She’s a mute, my love. Can’t speak. Nuru commented. It was an odd way of communication, sure, but if Nuru was correct then there really was no way around it. Neat, cursive writing greeted her, and she leaned forward to read it, lips pursed.

”Oh. Well, okay.” She said, lamely and more to Nuru than to her. ”I’ll take your word for it.” Imogen briefly raised her brows, then added more to her well-written note at the bottom. She apologized for her legs, and the room they took up. Amélie had to stop herself from deadpanning. Did this girl not see who she spoke to? Amélie had more than her fair share of “junk in the trunk”.

”That’s… a strange thing to apologize for. Especially considering the fact that the benches are hardly made for two people—they make them so small nowadays.” Well, at least in South Isle they did. Imogen moved her hand upwards, patted her ears as if remembering something she forgot. Amélie cocked her head, regarded them for a moment.

”Your ears are adorable.” She blurted out, growing pink as she realized what she just said.

Your mastery of communication has me in awe. Nuru slithered out from under the bench, situated itself on the fence behind Imogen. And you wonder why you barely have any friends.

[Imogen & Rakshasa]

"Ahhh... do you see that?"

Imogen regarded the hound with silence, wondering about what he was talking about. Her face creased with serious concern.

"Don't act like you don't know. You can smell the fear on her, she's afraid of you. Isn't it just delicious? Oh, don't be sad because you frighten the masses. I'd say your mother or family still loves you but... well, you know. Look at it this way, you've always got me."

Reassuring.

Imogen was well-aware of Rakshasa's love of fear and hate. Two of his favourite things to be displayed in humans; she was positive he loathed how monotone Imogen was. She never emoted much, even before the accident. This likely got on his nerves, so he greedily gulped it down wherever else it presented itself. She always wondered if he feeded off emotions in a way, but she doubted it. He must've just reveled in it, for the most part. He reveled in a lot of awful things, she thought...

Imogen scratched her ears for a moment before putting her hand back into her lap. The stranger was blunt, but seemed like a decent enough individual. Her cheeks flushed a bit in lieu of her comment, making her look away embarassed. No one really referred to her as adorable, let alone approachable. She patted her ear down once more before bringing her pen up to her notepad again. Before she could finish writing, her mouth opened and the gravely, low voice erupted from it.
"GAHAHAHAAH! YOU THINK THEY'RE ADORABLE, HOW CUTE! Oh how ignorrant humans are! Come closer, girl, I'll promise not to harm you too. Just a quick bite, and your head gone!"

Imogen placed her hand over her mouth, looking exasperated. She bit her lips shut, writing down on the notepad once again, trying to be quick to explain to the blonde. No point in keeping up hiding or a charade anymore, Rakshasa blew that out of the water.


I'm possessed. That was him now.... and no, he can't bite your head off, either. He's just trying to scare you.


"You are no fun... dear," he managed to slip out while she wrote, "She's not a regular human either. You didn't notice the creature near you at all, did you? Stupid girl. Take a look behind you." With that, the girl looked over her shoulder. Her crimson eyes peered around, looking at the shadowy.... thing behind her. It was like a large cat, but not. She wasn't sure how to describe it. In fact, how did that thing tie with the girl? She hadn't even noticed it until now.... maybe she wasn't paying enough attention. Or it was that quiet.

"Let me guess, you two have a contract.... Ahh, it looks much roomier than this setup I seem to be in. Oh, the terror I could cause."

Imogen massaged her temples, growing frustrated with her creature.

"You may call me Rakshasa, if you wish it. The empty-headed... "adorable" one you refer to is Imogen. This is the part, dear girl, where you introduce yourself as well. Unless you want to be rude, that is."

The dark-haired girl pleaded internally for the Bartghest to cease and leave the girl alone, but not with much avail. She sighed before jotting down another note, hopefully to clear anything left to salvage up a bit.

You don't have to answer him, best to ignore him. But, regardless, I am Imogen and... well, hello.

[Amélie Desmarais & Nuru]

By that point, Amélie was more than convinced Nuru had retracted it's worry of becoming involved with whatever dispute Imogen and Rakshasa had before she came along and poked her nose into their business. The anxiety whirling in the pit of her stomach, she was sure, made Nuru giddy. It was a sick creature, enjoyed the thought of her being terrified and fed off of whatever negative emotions grabbed hold of her.

That was part of the reason why it never truly left her side, why it always seemed to be near, hovering in the corner of her eye. A part of her had wanted to say a cursory goodbye and be on her way, but that would be giving in and she knew Nuru would love that. And she was not going to give it what it wanted, she'd be damned if she did. When Rakshasa's voice erupted out of Imogen once more, Amélie couldn't help but take a step back. She narrowed her eyes, throwing the troublesome creature something of a glare. He reminded her too much of Nuru in certain ways, what with its penchant for reveling in fear and adoring the way humans frightened.

"I... I'm quite fine where I am, thanks." Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Nuru cackled with glee.

Oh, I like him. Amélie did not fathom why, for her heart pounded in her ears and it was all she could do to stand her ground firmly. It smiled wickedly, long tail flicking to and fro.

The thing was happy. It was enjoying this.

Why, Amélie wouldn't doubt it found the way Rakshasa harangued Imogen absolutely delightful. Imogen grew understandably exasperated with her creature's interruptions, and Amélie waited patiently as she scribbled into her notebook.

"I sort of inferred that with the... voice that comes out of you." A shaky smile, eyes darting over to the barghest in question. She laughed awkwardly. "I doubt such a voice would belong to you." And then Rakshasa pointed out Nuru, and how it took to hanging behind Imogen--probably to watch Amélie and her reactions to the barghest.

"That--that's Nuru... it likes to do that, sometimes." Actually, all the time. Especially behind her friends, where it's tail would slip around the persons throat, as if it meant to choke them. It did not do that with Imogen, she noticed, which she assumed was due to Rakshasa.

"I think I can speak for myself, love." It drawled, slinking out from behind the bench and into the shadow she cast. It's bland, yellow eyes fell upon Rakshasa, still smiling with a wicked glee. "And you guess correct, my friend. We are bound to one another, yes." Amélie threw her eyes to the pavement, rubbing her arm.

"I am, as my little Amélie pointed out, Nuru. I am please to make your acquaintance..." She did not doubt this, and she was sure it and Rakshasa would get along famously. Amélie couldn't help but feel that she and Imogen had something in common, what with their creatures. Between the two of them, she wasn't sure who was worse, but she did know that they both seemed to relish harassing them.

"The same goes for Nuru... it's bark is worse than it's bite, I assure you, Imogen." She smiled again, albeit weakly. That barghest wasn't easy to be around.

"Must you talk of me in such unflattering ways, my dear? It's awfully rude of you. See the impertinence I put up with, Rakshasa?" Nuru slithered closer to the barghest. "Being bound... to a fleshy thing is not as glamorous as it may seem."

Amélie gave Imogen a shrug of the shoulders and made a face as if to say, "what can you do?".