4 Vials

A massively loud rattle could be heard moving slowly through the Bygone, and then the Yokai charged forest. The citadel was its goal, and it seemed the odd caravan was escorted by quite the small battalion of individuals. None seemed to be warriors however, even the two leading the carriage. All seemed like civilians, in a sense, albeit with quite the fancy attire.

Charlie and Alia were dragging quite the occultic influence in the locked up and absolutely secured caravan along with the servants. Many Yokai in the area could smell it, the carcass of a defeated yet ripe Kaor. The amount of occultic power in its core was akin to that of Squiggles, the delicious heart Dumuzid was offered.

Once at the citadel, it seemed like by just the oozing smell of the Yokai's body that the Imperfect's men knew. This was some sort of offering. Marching as the head of this group, Charlie would be the first to address the Imperfect Zeus, body stiff and straight, hands behind her back. Her complexion was particularly pale, sickly, and her veins particularly easy to distinguish on her face and neck.

"Dumuzid. It has been a while."

A monotone voice, followed by a brief bow. May as well start things calm and respectful as the pitch was soon to be exposed.

"Yes, this is indeed for you."
(Charlie Avaline)
First time she's taken along, but suppose she's the most readily available in general terms, so it's a bit of a surprise it's taken this long for Alia to be tugged along one one of CHarlie's extracurricular ventures. Hell, she doesn't get out of Nostvale enough, anyway. Give her an excuse like thus, and she's happy to take it. To explore what little of this world she hasn't bothered to soar over as a dragon for once.

Not particularly different, it'd feel, but maybe that's just afflicted by low expectation in the first place.

But on heels, she follows, a light air and a casual glance all about as they move, through caves and woodlands and eventually into the looming Citadel itself. Charlie, being oft vague about things, really had only asked her to come along, to be accomapnying to the dealings she has planned, and. Well! That's what she's doing, now. Standing by the smaller woman, curiosity only really roused on the introduction, only enough to give the vaunted imperfect yokai himself a passive glance-over. Huh. She sort of... vaguely remembers him from that one time, with Squiggle's death and his weird, sudden appearance, but. Good refresher.

Forgive her for not gushing, not mimicking the bow. Just remaining upright, the tall Drakanite is, with hands cupped together behind her back as she zones out subtly. Alia's just here. Don't mind her.
(Alia Uniana)
"It has indeed."

While they arrive, he remains forward-facing - with the many minds under his willpower spread throughout the world, now, it's increasingly difficult to pin his attention to any one spot. His actual body was, of course, no less an anchor for that same attent-- however, that didn't make it any less tempting to allow his observations to continue while he talked, eyes darting mystically to unseen objects while delivering commands to thralls some dozen or even hundreds of miles beyond. Whatever the case, the Imperfect eventually - after a minute or so, that is - finds himself, collecting his vision once more and turning his head toward the changed Charlie and her evident cohort. One he'd not met before, but.. one he'd heard of and knew of, at least.

"Yet you are not the same, are you?", he mused, smirking gently yet sharply all the same. It was a tiny gesture and in that sense soft, yet that motion carried with it such speed and domination that the thralled Yokai - or those that'd been so foolish so as to incur his wrath sometime prior - winced in reply. It was hardly a threat by any means; no, it was only a small reminder of the Imperfect's.. well, effects. The world around him warped itself to his behest, regardless of whether or not his will would have it that way. "It is not a Yokai-borne sort of change, neatly enough. It is something more unique. Many go for the former-- it is refreshing to see some creativity in humanity's self-destructive habits."

A hand raises to equivalently raise the dead Kaor, allowing it to hover above the ground below absently.. though it is not consumed; not yet.

When people bring offerings, they too bring weighted assumptions and requests, oftentimes. No sane individual comes to Dumuzid without needing something-- much less with a sacrifice.

"But that is off-topic. Before I devour this 'gift' - what is it you want in return?", Dumuzid inquires, quirking an eyebrow as the corpse is hovered over the lake and to the stairway at his north. "I assume there is something. There usually is, with humans."
(Dumuzid Balaraq)
"You noticed? Heh."

A small smirk formed on her visage. Pleased to see some took notice of her massive shift in existantial paradigm. Nonetheless, she had done a good job to conceal it, and it'd be up to such a depraved and vile being to sniff out the gruesome changes.

"My daughter has taken quite an interest in your kind, actually. You are the fascinating bunch, after all."

A more composed posture was regained, her blue yet clearly not as vivid eyes fixated the static charged imperfect. He appropriated the aquatic Kaor her family had slain, and Charlie would gesture at her servants to let this initiative be. It was Dumuzid's after all.

The doctor turned, hands still behind her back, as she'd stare over at the floating carcass. Optics slowly descended toward the mass of water in the center of the massive edifice that housed the mighty Imperfect. Eventually, she'd provide a reply.

"It is not exactly something that is of direct benefit to me. Rather, something that will benefit us all, if you were to comply. See this offering as a sign of good faith, rather than a trade."

She spoke softly, establishing the air she wished for this exchange.

"This world is going to die, Dumuzid. If we don't act accordingly, we will all perish. You know this more than I do. As the strongest source of power, you can definitely sense it. Its hunger, its desire to consume and destroy whatever it deems a threat."

Her head would peer over to the monster's direction, glance dull but the solmenness it emitted was quite present.

"Dumuzid. I will need you to provide me something from your body that will allow me to manufacture a tool that could insure its defeat. Something such as your blood. Do you wish to know the details as to why?"
(Charlie Avaline)
Well, their only near-proximity was awkwardly situated in Alia's first fullshift, so suppose it would be a touch difficult to bve aware of her presence in this form, if at all. Looming greatness and disinterest with the world around them for those great and powerful beings and all that generic shit that comes with a massive ego, right? Wouldn't hold it against him, anyway, but she also cared spectacularly little, because she has no opinion on the yokai, but that he's... a yokai. A spectacularly powerful one, but still a yokai.

But, disgress. The two of them go on, and her attention is drawn back in for nothing if not but for the sake of context important later. It is a rare thing, to hear Charlie so grimly speak and of such a large scale at that, at least around Alia personally. And she asks something of the yokai, to "manufacture a tool". Mmm. A sideways glance, towards her mother, as if to silently say "This is where I come into play?", but her lips are pursed. Still staying quiet and clearly just a tetriary element, Alia.
(Alia Uniana)
"Ah, my blood!"

The Imperfect's smile grew slightly, though it wasn't necessarily out of humor - exhaustion, almost. The number of people he'd slain for asking for his blood without reason or without proper tribute was.. quite astounding. However, this situation wasn't the worst. It was certainly not the best, but compared to having his guts beaten out of him by Lucien for the sake of Arcelia's damned arise to some faux 'power', a small meal and a nicely-asked attempt was fairly high on the rankings thus far. Perhaps top-ten! Whatever the case, it was obvious that Dumuzid didn't take too kindly to the subject of sharing his flesh and blood aimlessly-- while a human might not think much of it, Yokai blood, especially his variety of Yookai blood, had great value.

More than that, though, did he hold pride in himself. Even if no one at all coveted that ichor of his, Dumuzid would feel the same sense of possessiveness anyways.

His lips, despite the aforementioned issue of contemplation and slight frustration, parted - luckily, perhaps, not harshly. Instead, it was in an effort to speak calmly (or as calmly as the booming Imperfect could manage, anyways). "While I definitely understand the power Nerebia wields, and understand its ability to devour us all without thought," Dumuzid admitted, "That fact does not humble my pride. It does not make my blood any less priceless." The tip-tap of his black nails against an equivalently-colored set of pitch-black armor rings out across the Citadel and throughout its halls. The building is attuned to the behest of the Imperfect, either through passive absorption of his being or a more literal, forceful implication of his power-- whatever the case, those bricks live and breathe the same air as Dumuzid.

"Luckily, or so I would say, there are many priceless objects around besides my blood that I would consider trading for."

He waves a hand, dismissing her offer of 'details'.

"I do not care for the details, only the trade. As of the moment, our greatest threat-- my greatest threat, that is-- is Nostvale," he murmurs, his nails once more tapping idly against his plate-armor. "There is a generous chance that they will attempt to grasp their fingers upon the divine entity's corpse. In the event that that effort is made by the Nostvalen forces - "

"I want you and your cohort fighting for Loranthis' possession of the corpse. For that, you can have any amount of my blood you desire."
(Dumuzid Balaraq)
"So basically, betray Nostvale?"

An eyebrow rose. It was surprising to see the brash and impulsive Zeus Imperfect to think ahead. Then again, assuming he was stupid was also quite the absurd thing. Clicking her tongue, the doctor would narrow her eyes toward the lightning entity before responding.

"I can insure that my ilk does not interfere in Loranthis' possession of the remains. Considering my family composes a large portion of the city's force, I suppose that would help a lot, wouldn't it?"

She'd reply, arms now crossed as she remained firm toward the Yokai. Negotiation had started, and now they had to put whatever they had onto the table.

"That should be adequate. That and, well, I'm basically insuring your survival with your blood, Dumuzid. You of all people should see quite some value in staying alive."

Charlie added, now gesturing at her fellow servants to drag over a large, black suitcase. Once on her possession, she'd open it to reveal four large syringes.

"Four vials. The surplus are fail-safes. Give me the blood, and I will not interfere in Loranthis' acquisition."
(Charlie Avaline)
Dumuzid openly cackles, appeased with their loyalty to the city--

Unlike many other cases, he would've welcomed another's betrayal of their superiors in this situation. Whatever the case, the adaptation of his proffered demands is evidently.. accepted, if his grinning visage is any large indication. "I can agree to these terms," he mused, happy to eliminate at least some percentage of those who'd seek the removal of Nerebia from Dumuzid-borne hands. They might betray him in this deal, but - the Imperfect was bound to his word. He believed others to be the same. Besides, his sword was usually incentive enough. "I will provide you with this blood even if only to see what becomes of it. I would strongly recommend not supplying your supposedly Yokai-obsessed spawn with it, though-- "

"I do not take very kindly to imitations of my ilk. It perturbs me to this day that Arcelia Hirano was so.. " A hand crushes itself around nothing, the air screaming to escape as if a blade had sliced through a wave of the depraved atmosphere of the Citadel. "Bad memories brew lackluster hopes. Whatever the case, I hold faith in your ability to stray from the usual." A pair of lightning-streaked irises overlook the Avaline's figure once more, unsure of the entirety of her transformation, but.. certain of difference. There was most definitely inhumanity within that figure of Charlie's-- with any luck, she'd do well to spread the same methods to the disgustingly normal breeds in coming years, Dumuzid believed.

A nail slices quickly through that five-inch-thick exoskeleton of the Imperfect's as if a hot knife through butter, armor and all - shapeshifting probably utilized to some extent in the hope of speeding up the process overall. In one fell swoop, one of the many veins that dart from surface to surface within Dumuzid's shell is swiped and split, and with a channel formed from the same body-changing methods as mentioned prior, blackish-red ichor spills forth down the arm of the Yokai ascendant. "Take your desired share, then, biomage," Dumuzid notes unflinchingly, the gash in his very being evidently going relatively unnoticed. Obviously he'd intended to do so, but the pain is a distant sensation-- especially given that it had been expected and purposeful. "I look forward to seeing what you can do to help assure my obtaining of that entity's behest."

It seemed the concept of global decimation and extinction was a bit beyond him, if only for the moment.
(Dumuzid Balaraq)
"Excellent."

She simply replied, now with Dumuzid offering his share of the trade. With the opening he had created for them, she'd insert the large syringe in the oozing gash. They filled quick, and took quite the quantity. Enough to work with, anyway. Four were filled, as four were enough to conduct the required work she aimed to perform when it came to handling Nerebia, and perhaps other projects.

"My daughter may aim to approach your kind in an odd manner. While I don't think she'll be like the Hirano's, she may take inspiration from their methods. But rest assured, nothing plain comes from my household."

A satisfied grin formed on her otherwise tired and sickly visage. Her movements were as fluid as ever, but she always gave off that repulsing feeling. As if she were terminally ill, or in desperate need to get out of the basement. The doctor stored all the filled syringes into the case, all of which emitted a disgustingly high amount of occultic and lightning-like influence. As if an electromagnetic field had taken shape around the case itself.

"I am but a scholar, Dumuzid. I will set myself to assist the side in which I believe would yield the best outcome. Or at least the most fascinating one. I will say you have been quite helpful and interesting to work with. And for that, I thank you."

Another small bow.

"Now. Until then, I will remain in Nostvale. For I require the mimic to provide the final piece of this device."
(Charlie Avaline)