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[NightShade]

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She was a toymaker, and as she stared at the small puppet, the likeness of herself uncanny, she smiled. Was she scared? Yes, this was preplanned not her ussual rush in and let it al happen as it will. This time there was more at stake tho...

Try as she might to revive the doll it had not worked, this was a limitation she hadnt time to overcome. Yet all creatures had their limitations and bringing life to something dead well it wasnt in her nature. Most times it happened had purely been by accident. Look at Willow.

She sighed softly and staring off and folding her hands,she touched the glittering bracelet on her arm. She smiled taking it off and murmuring a few small words of no importance...now. Then taking up a dark etching tool she hummed as she, just for fun, began carving the same marking on the dolls arm as on her arm. A marking that now represented the family that they were, the blood that ran thru her children.

Creeping into Tyranis's room she stood over him like a shadow, his eyes snapped open, yet no color they were white.. He was not there...She new this, the sickness worsened but she knew he was strong. She laid down the doll next to him. He needed it more than she..her children could not escape their mother. Taking the self same tool she drove the marking into his own arm and he yelped but did not awaken. She sighed, it was necessary he would understand. She doubted it would last as hers did but for temporary purposes...

Rising she left the room, it was time and she headed off to find her sleeping husband..
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Something is Wrong, I can still feel Existence...

[NightShade]

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Do not watch son...
The voice whispered to Tyranis, my body is going to die...

She could feel the rage in her son as he tried to look away from his mother held before his eyes against her will. The scalpel sliced the firm white flesh of her abdomen.

Jon Strathmore seemed to be removing something from his mother and placing it in another woman. He didnt understand this at all. Yet he did understand that his mother was speaking to him softly directing him. He would do his best...

Grasp the doll Tyranis, it is right near your hand you can do it son... Tyranis was strong and he had knowledge of channels, slowly using his own connection between body and wraith as a passageway until the physical item, the shade doll was physically within his grasp.

Repeat after me and then, you must find Dethn.... He obeyed and he watched as his mother's body died but her spirit transferred to within the doll. He turned slowly floating thru the house to find Dethn their only hope.

Jon was pleased Shade was dead and he had that which he needed, he stabbed the scalpel into her sealing any chances for this body as blood flowed freely.

He knew Tyranis her own son, watched helplessly as he cut and destroyed his mother without aid of pain releif ... It was a gruesome scene that echoed the past.

Dethn her only bid for freedom, would her son return to them? Somehow she knew he would...
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Something is Wrong, I can still feel Existence...

[Mairsil]

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Tyranis flew from the room as fast as he could, his wraith form a blur among the shadows. Had he been within his normal body he’d be shaking, attacking, nervously sweating, but none of these things plagued him now. Only grief. But his mother’s instructions had been made clear to him, and the only way he could impact the situation at all in his ethereal form was to follow them whole heartedly.

In the next room Tyranis found Dethn Ab’arawn, his brother that he had not seen in years. He quickly moved forth into the light, refracting off of his ethereal form, practically shouting to draw his attention.



A great confusion consumed the two for a moment or two, but passed with ease. What came harder still, was telling Dethn what he needed to hear.

Dethn … I am here because Jon Strathmore has made it so. But so is our mother, and.. he’s killing her.




Dethn’s eyes went wide and a barrage of angry questions was unleashed. Tyranis did his best to answer them quickly, but urgently appealed to his brother, pleading for his attention. When he got it, he thought best to not let thoughts dwell to heavily, but merely to act quickly as their mother had bade him.
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"You see I can not be forsaken, because I'm not the only one. We walk amongst you, beating, r#ping, must we hide from everyone?" - Jon Davis

[Cear Dallben ZOG]

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Dethn, poor kid. brought up in the mest world of Umbra, taken to the school of blackrock. swept up by the chaos he was born into. Jonathan Strathmore.

He stood in the books behind the stairs in Jon's home.
Contemplating as he ever does.
What is my life?
Well one major part of it, that he wasnt even aware of was happening next door. His mother Nighshade was subjecting herself to torture, a gruesome live autopsy.

After all hes been thru and all hes simply seen in this freakish abode, he knew he was just going to run. Not sure where or where even he would be welcome. Would be nice to see his family again, but what the hell did they think.

amid all of this though, a reality rolled in. I suppose a wraith is reality.
Tyranis ended all contemplation going on in Dethn's mind with the fact of what was happening...

"Mum?"

No time Dethn, shes dead, take the doll, run.

After rushed formalities thats exactly what he did. The time was actually now. Now he runs away.
But he only made it a few yards, then the true horror a son can face, the mangle body of his caregiver. On the table before him lied the ruthlessly attended to body of Dethn's mother. This? is Nighshade Strathmore?


He was warned not to stay at the sight, and he diddnt for long. He ran. Far off the island. Where ever he went, where ever he was accepted, one thing would stay true for him, Jonathan Strathmore must die.
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