Nashandra's birth

[08:46:43] Rumbling, the many bubbles charged with air rose from the bottom of the white, silky cocoon that held a peculiar lifeform inside. Like a vat filled with liquid, it gave off quite the otherworldly feeling. Its shape, its consistency, completely out of place in the center of an otherwise country-side mansion. For months nothing particularly uniques occured. Only the greyrot's appendages would leap out to feed on the offerings given by the tenants of the household.

But on this particular day, the first fissure took form on the surface of the circular pod. And with that came another, and another, branching out until the foundation of the biological contained would finally collapse. Shattering completely, the green fluid that keep whatever being that had been gestated inside alive was now all over the floor tiles.

No one was here to witness it, as it was but a silent birth. No baby crying, no banshee-like screams from the creature that emerged. No, nothing of the sorts. Anyone who would come and check up on the cocoon's status would find the pod completely destroyed, and the fluid half dried up already. They could only find one lead: The wet footsteps trailing to the upper levels of the mansion.

If one were to investigate further, they'd find the marks of the uncertain and clumsy gait lead to the building's balcony. An eerie sensation would hit any of those approaching the area, as if something absolutely sinister was waiting for them. More than a hunch of the anxiety of anticipation of the unknown, there was something concrete hitting the conscience.

Sitting on the edge of the balcony, a silver haired child of no more than ten years of age in appearance fixated with unnatural stillness the horizon. Only the girl's hair would be freed from the completely static nature of her frame. Foul depravity could be felt all too well once eyes would meet the silhouette of the critter calling itself only Nashandra. Sickening it certainly was.
(Nashandra)
[09:33:39] Ahhh, it was another day. Another, worrying day that was filled with anxiety, confusion and stupor. How long has she kept herself cooped up around the manor, waiting patiently for the things to all calm down. There were no visits in the mansion, and everything all grew rather eerily quiet for the most part as she waited with the upmost anticipation to figure out whether or not her operation had failed.

That was all that had mattered at this point. Whether it failed, succeeded, partially failed, or just. . took too long for it to be unresponsive. Three months passed. . Then six. .. Then over twelve months into the new year had passed. It was all silent, too quiet for her to realize whether or not it had worked. The only thing she could note however was that she was hearing odd noises from downstairs, yet assumed it was just the greyrot that now inhabited the mansion.

Needless to say, she was intrigued enough to go downstairs the quick way. Jumping off of the roof and landing into some bushes, she would just dust herself off and walk on the insides just to find that the shell had been hatched. Her eyes were filled with shock as she ran to the cocoon, opening it just a bit further to see if there was anything inside of it.

. . . . Nothing. . What? . . This was a joke right? It had to be a joke? She looked down at the odd goop of green as it slowly trailed on from the ground. . Perhaps it really was a better idea to stay on the rooftops actually. Huh. .

She moved up the stairs that led to the rooftops to find what seemed like a girl that seemed to be the cause of concern. . Yet, she was covered in the stuff. For a moment, the gears had started to churn up a bit as it seemed that she was finally understanding what was going on here for the most part.

Her eyes went wide with amazement, as she clapped her hands once, "So you're finally up, huh?" She wanted to test something for now, and with her question, it was mainly going to be whether or not the snow haired girl knew how to speak.

A test of intelligence in some way too.
(Phoebe Avaline)
[09:49:00] The naked entity that pleasantly sat onto the wooden railing seemed to react little to the woman's beckoning. Only a slightly twitch of her almost completely concealed ears could be remarked. The wind's breeze would be the only sound governing this scene at this point, for the being still convered in the vile mucus that fed it remained stagnant for a little while longer.

It'd be about thirty seconds in that finally, the silver haired anomaly would turn its head, with its torso eventually following through. Just enough so that the silver pupils of the critter could capture the frame of the aging Phoebe, its features could finally be distinguished.

The bone structure of its face, the small details. They looked all so similar to the runewriter's mother. The hair was very much different, and the body had some distinctions too, though one could pin it on the age. But otherwise, Nashandra's visage was none other than Charlie's, with very minor difference. Most of it being her exceptionally pale complexion and eye color.

"Uuuuup?"

And then its voice. It's otherworldly, echoing voice. As if it had an array of voices to choose from and decided to use multiple at once. It was clumsy, as if she were just simulating Phoebe's sounds rather than constructing words. The wide eyed gaze didn't prove to be promising when it came to assess the creature's intelligence.

"You. You you youuuuu."

Swiftly, she shifted her body to face the opposite direction, and direction at the blonde, elderly woman.

"You. Made. Me."

Its head tilted, eyes widened still and never once blinking.
(Nashandra)
[10:24:51] ". . . ." Phoebe would merely remove that of a small jacket that she had. She did make preparations on a revival, but she didn't really expect it to be that of a small girl. Well, not a small girl .. It was an odd homunculus, that she had just created. . What did she just create anyway? It wasn't her actual creation right? No, was she? She didn't really know if she was or not. . . I mean, Charlie was the one who gave her the formulas.

Then again, she was the one who enacted it, and she didn't think that Charlie knew it was going to work. It was probably just a hypothesis . .But maybe. . Just maybe. .

Removing herself from that flow of time that was acquired in her mind, she would look back at the odd individual. She looked a lot like her mother with the face. . The hair however was different. . But maybe it was just because of the sacrafice's hair that was the problem all in all. That was always the case anyway.

"Eh. ."

Was it trying to speak? It was. It was, it was! She was internally excited, but didn't really want to show it! This was rather interesting to her.

When she asked that of the blonde, she couldn't help but merely nod her head towards the white haired.

"Yes. . I did." She said, bringing a hand on the light armor that she had adorned, "Phoebe. Phoebe Avaline." She said, smiling pleasantly towards it as she looked down.

"How. . How do you feel?" She'd ask, just with curiousity building up from her. She really didn't know what to say. . . But there was a renewed sense of hope when she did this.
(Phoebe Avaline)
[10:32:32] Another tilt of its head. It was confirmed that Phoebe had indeed 'made' Nashandra. The rounded, wide eyes narrow somewhat, while remaining completely still on their target.

"Phoebe. Phoebe Avaline."

She mimicked, voice slowly finding its balance and adopting a tone similar to that of an average girl's. However, the odd echoe emitted and the state of flux her voice seemed to be in remained subtlely present.

"I feel. I feel. I feel."

The phrase was repeated with no nuance in the intonation with each repetition. It looked like she was trying to figure out what it meant or perhaps what the answer was while expressing it in a slightly more inhuman way.

"I feel alive. I feel like Nashandra. I am Nashandra. You are Phoebe Avaline. You made me, Nashandra. Then this is ..."

She gazed around, acknowledging her surroundings while severing the adamant focus she had on the Avaline.

"Hmmmm. My little ones. They're not here. Where are they? I need to find them. They have to be with me."
(Nashandra)
"Yes, Phoebe." She said, smiling a bit. She was somewhat proud of herself now for realizing the progression she had just made. If she was able to do that with someone. . .What did this make her? This ritual ..  The runes. . Did this mean that she finally was able to call herself a master in both arts? Was she really able to do that?

Was she able to cheat Kraus and his creations?

What was this feeling that she had? This euphoric tension that was building up inside of her. It felt. . pleasant. . It felt like something she never knew of before as she looked at the mansion itself.

"Nashandra. . Huh. ." That was a good name, a grand name, rather.

"Your. . Your little ones?" She'd ask, a bit intrigued. Her eyes widened as she stared at Nashandra? Was she remembering small things? Bit by bit? Did she mean her daughters from another life, or did she mean the greyrot in the house?
(Phoebe Avaline)
"Yes."

She responded bluntly. Unflinching and completely flat in her tone. The monstrosity Phoebe had a big hand in creating was indeed very much peculiar. But now, actual emotions would start to become apparent. Eyebrows furrowed as it seemed like the newborn Nashandra wasn't content about something.

"My little ones. The Greyrot. The Mould. The Walls."

Her tone kept escalating as she'd announce a different moniker for the conglomerate she was destined to control. The homunculus, with her silver eyes glaring knives at Phoebe at this point, would pout before employing a more aggressive intonation.

"Where did you put them? Who touched them? I want them now. I WANT THEM NOW."

Like a child having a tantrum, the being's balled fist would slap against the wooden structure she'd be suspended upon. Needless to say, with her superhuman strength, it would shatter without any issues. This would prompt Nashandra to simultaneously hop off her spot.

"I have to find them. They need to follow me, help me. I need to care for them. They're mine, and no one else's."

Her gaze became fidgety, agitated. Orienting her field of vision in various random directions. And then, all of a sudden, with one quick glance at Phoebe, the Homunculus would perform a swift backflip off the balcony and aiming to land on the grassy terrain below. Her agility was astounding, and proof that her muscle memory had been inherited beyond just innate knowlegde of words and sentence structure.

Phoebe could try to catch her, but it seemed like the nude little newborn was going to run off. Though, considering her feats, one wouldn't have to worry too much.
(Nashandra)