Neries Blood

The sound of the swing echoed gently through the garden where children seemed to roam freely. It had attracted many people within the few months that it had been put into play, but even then, she was still feeling rather quite frustrated with her newfound augmentations delivered from her father. The swing's squeaking sounds came and went, but she didn't even sit there! No, rather, one of her hands pushed the seat of it back and forth as she gave a quiet little sighing sound outwards.

Perhaps she should've ceased with her self loathing? She didn't know. She could've practiced with her appendages, but right now she wasn't particularly feeling it right now.

Even then, it was just a dour little girl currently sitting in the midst of the garden where flowers seemed to writhe with life.

...What a strange pace.
(Rosalie)
A silver skinned, fairly dirty, and horned youth was currently moving through the bygonegroves. He had gotten lost in the forest somehow, and despite everything soon heard a rather eerie noise.

In the dark trees the sound of the squeaking swing sounded ominous in nature to a strange degree. Almost an anomalous sound admist the 'quiet' noise of the forest. The casual background noise drew him to the swing where the girl sat pushing it back and forth.

"Hey. . .what is this place?" the child questioned rubbing his noise with a dirty hand. He looked Rosalie up and down for a moment, in the innocent manner of someone lost. .. and a bit confused. She seemed rather young to be out here by herself. . . .
(Moa)
It doesn't take much time for the fair haired girl to move her attention toward the neries that seemed to approach. Coming upwards to a stand, there crackled lightning around her form as she dropped her arms down by her sides, but one of her hands soon moved down, aiming to pull the glove free of her fingers if she had to...

After all, she had crushed and dismembered a zombie with those vine-like extensions that had become her fingers, so... Why not use it to defend herself outside of the lab?

"It's... the Garden. The one th'Queen gave to me." She spoke quietly as she dug her bare feet into the ground there. "Are y'gonna cause trouble? 'Cause if you are, I ain't gonna be nice... I had a bad day, an' I don't wanna have any more badness."
(Rosalie)
He stared for a moment at the rather pale girl with steely blue eyes. The crackling noise around the girl made his yellow eyes slant somewhat as he observed her carefully. He was quickly on guard considering this place was extremely foreign to him.

He was no zombie that was for sure, and he paused for a moment scuffing his toe in the ground out of pure boredom.

"I do what I want when I want." he states looking at the girl, in all honesty he ended up taking care of most of the kids in Nostvale so he was growing up at a rather ridiculous pace, this of course was nothing good.

"Garden? hmpfh its' just a bunch of flowers and dirt." he states not really seeing the 'beauty' persay in nature.

"Got any coins?" he queries, she seemed rather laviciously dressed.
(Moa)
"I don't think you get it."

Suddenly, the glove would be pulled away from her hand before she would hold it there in front of her face. There were no nails, but they were the shape of fingers... But those fingers wiggled, writhing like vines within the garden before abruptly, she would drag her hand down behind her, and lash it forward.

There was the sickening, cushing sound of a bird snatched from midair, intertwined with the vines that had replaced her fingers. They extended to great lengths and held a good amount of force behind them. As they snapped back toward her, the bird would be crushed into not more than a ball of feathers, meat, and crushed bone as she stared forward at him.

"My garden is me. Everything here can do what I did. Everything here... can hurt things."

The groans of undead even began to come from somewhere within the walls of the Garden, the shifting sound of foliage coming as the guards fumbled around.

"I ain't got no coins, but if you need some, go talk to m'dad." Maybe he'd experiment on kids that weren't her.

...Maybe not.

But the lump of flesh and blood would be dropped down at Moa's feet before she reverted her fingers back to their normal shape with the help of her nature-bound magic.

"But that being said, if you cause trouble in my garden, I'll turn y'into plant food. Got it?"
(Rosalie)
The young bookworm was just laying underneath a nearby swing. Something about the boy enjoyed sitting under things that he was supposed to sit on top of. Then again, perhaps the grass was just more comfortable. His nose was currently buried in another of his books, his gaze not moving from the inked paper even if it would safe his soul. . .

Until he heard the sounds of moaning from nearby.

Normally, Camus was used to the sounds of the undead, but. . . He scratched his neck. This is the first time he had heard it in the garden, to say the least. Poking his head out, he would notice that two other kids were here. . . A significantly older one, and then Rosalie, who seemed to be more or less always here in one way or another.

Tilting his head from side to side, he would look at the weird gray skinned lad and then back at Rosalie. Was he trying to bully her? He was in for a rough time if he was trying to bully her. . . Camus would kinda sit up a little bit and his voice would ring out, not exactly the clearest when combined with the two of them.

"I-I'd listen to her. . . She's not. . . Uh. . . She's not really lying to you. . ." Camus is 100% out of his element.
(Camus)
The horned youth stared quietly as the glove was pulled away from her fingers and held in front of her face. No nails of any sort, or appendage that made it seem normal, no writhing vines were hardly something children normaly had as hands.

She lashed out at a bird with her appendage and he watched as the carcass was tossed at his feet. The bird carcass for him was a casual reminder. . .of the way things were in Nostvale, and he looked up at the girl with a rather toothy grin.

"So you got wierd fingers. . ." he states and looks at the bird. . .feeling that strange connection in the moments before its death . . . the release of mana.

"huh?" as he was about to make a comment further on the girls 'plant' like hands a voice spoke up. Camus. . hidden beneath the swing in a soft tone stated to listen to her.

"Who are you?" he asks, turning to Camus.

"Yer dads' got wierd plant fingers too?" he asks his gaze fixed on Rosalie, the lump of flesh remained at his feet still. . as he looked quizzingly at Rosalie.

"Turn me into plant food?? Yer got a pretty big mouth thats alright. . . . where do you live if you are the er garden?" he asks the petite girl.
(Moa)
Her dad always had the undead nearby, because he always called her Eighteen, the one who lived, and his greatest creation. It was rare to hear her actual name uttered from his lips. Perhaps he still had doubts that she would thrive, but... He detached fingers from her and she was still thriving-- a bit too viciously so, and it caused her to angrily lash out, unfortunately. The bird? It stood no chance. The blood soaked, flesh colored vines quivered a small bit by her sides, and she could feel a painful sensation beginning to extend through her wrist, through her elbow region that caused her a distinct amount of pain.

Upwards the sensation trailed, and she would glance down toward her hand, watching the stem and pull of the vines through the lighter parts of her skin, causing a pained cooing sound to leave her lips.

"They're made of nature magic, so y'can't say that it's just dirt an' flowers." No, that magic was capable of some dark, drastic things.

"I got a big mouth because I'm better than you. I live here in the garden, and I ain't gotta rely on people or my dad t'get what I need'ta. I got a big mouth 'cause I'm 'llowed to. Camus knows."

Hnf.

Through her shoulder now, she could feel the odd, tearing ache. What was going on...?

"So're y'gonna keep runnin' your mouth, or y'gonna sit down and enjoy th'garden?"
(Rosalie)
Rather big talk coming from Rosalie, but. . . Eh. Camus couldn't really argue. I mean, look at that. She just kinda hit a bird out of the sky using MAGIC! He couldn't do that with his darkness. . . Or. . . Could he? Camus looked up and an occultic flame lighted on his jacket for a moment before he quenched it.

Things to think about.

Camus would stand up, brushing himself off. Hearing Rosalie talk like that filled the boy with some confidence, too! After all, if she had his back, there was no way that he could get in trouble, right? The book would soon be tied to his waist and he'd push his glasses up further upon his face with his middle finger. No, no, the occultist was still too young to be doing -that- to people.

"I'm Camus, the Occultist. Dark forces of the world bend to my will, y'see. . ." He grinned a little bit. Not a lie! He promised he didn't lie. Probably.

"Told Rosalie I'd help. So. Uh. I'd suggest pullin up a book and just enjoyin it! It's. . . Better then the other option. . ."
(Camus)
He looked at Rosalie for a moment as she divulged in her own way some of her origins.The blood soaked vines at her side smelled. . no it was more correct to say the air around Rosalie tasted. .like iron? It was a metallic and sweet thing. . .and as Camus stood he could taste the changes in the air around him as well. . .soot flavoured.

"How can you be better than me just because you have a cool arm?" he rolls his eyes at the idea,

"Yer pretty small but just cause you think your better doesn't mean anything. . someones always better than you." he states.

"How do you even enjoy a garden?" he asked, looking from one to the other. Did you just sit in the midst of the flowers and do nothing?

"Camus. . .the occulist. . .how are you even helping?" he asked curiously.

"You can call me Moa. . " he states, "I can't read. . ." he states frowning for a brief second. It wasn't something he had the luxury of partaking in.


(Moa)
It was like hot-- burning down along her back as she felt whatever it might've been spreading through her shoulder, trickling along her spine. These vines weren't particularly in much control, if you asked her. Did Marula even try to figure out what might've come her way, or was he doing this all on the fly? Even then, she wasn't sure. There was something building a network from the tips of her 'fingers', through her shoulders, and one could hear the pain to her tone of voice if they listened closely enough.

"It isn't just the arm," her tone sounded exasperated. "It's just--" Everything. It was everything. She didn't need to ask people for coins to survive, she didn't need to have someone experiment on her to have her become 'better', especially given that she was supposed to be the best.

After all, she was the sole survivor out of twenty attempts of children from Marula terrorizing prisoners inside of Alterosi cells.

"You make new things, better things inside'a the garden." Not that she expected someone to really get it. "You build it bigger and better. One day, my garden's gonna take over this forest an' all th'monster's'll have to talk to me to live here."

"And he's helpin' just fine. Th'more people that're here, the less lonely th'plants are, too. They ain't normal. They got thoughts of their own, too!"
(Rosalie)
"Tch."

This new kid was annoying. Horribly annoying. Why were boy kids so much more annoying then anyone else. . .? Adult men weren't annoy, so why were boys. . .? Anyway, he shook his head. He had been reading up a lot on plants. Chlorophyll, proper feeding times, how much water to give them, practically could be a green thumb if he wanted!

Not as much as a nature magii was, but still. . .

Crossing his arms, he would be a little bit stubborn about the whole thing. So the kid couldn't read. He was starting to draw a line. Stupid, is irritating. Irratating are stupid people. It wasn't a hard line to draw, but Camus did so in his mind right now. A reminder that everyone stupid is also automatically irritating.

Check.

"Like I need to explain what I do to you anyway!"
(Camus)
"Yeah I'm sure he's helping. . with whatever he does." he rolls his eyes at both making it clear his opinions concerning Camus was rather. . .low. He seemed like a prissy nerd, in every sense of the way. The kind of kid that bawled for hours after scuffing their knees across the ground.

Useless in all sense of the word if someone wasn't watching out for them. . . Rosalie seemed almost cut from the same cloth. Perhaps thats why they got along together.

"Yeah. . .I don't think plants can hear thoughts. . " he states looking around.

"Er can I see your arm?" he asks and without further ado the youth walks forward and pulls at Rosalies arm to examine it more closely, regardless if she was willing or not. It was strange and unique and thus he had become interested in it.
(Moa)
A glance toward Camus, and she shook her head from side to side, as if to suggest he didn't allow Moa to bend him out of shape. "Yes, they can. They can also hear you right now. That's why--"

A glance behind him, and a towering vine extended upwards, writhing as if ready to crush down onto the child there. There were many dangers inside of the garden, of course...

As he grabbed onto her arm, however, it seemed to be a different story...! The vines would suddenly wrap around the invasive hand there, and they would attempt to slice into his skin-- surface damage, but damage none the less.

To make him bleed, the vines begged his blood, and if he got close enough? Then they were going to try to take it.

"You're hurting me," she hissed as she felt the sensation of those raking vines making a scathing feeling... "Or no, wait, there's-- nngh... Something-- Get off, there's something ripping my back!"

Attempts were made to pull away from Moa, but those vines still wanted his blood. Yikes.
(Rosalie)
Camus would kinda just have his arms crossed as he looked towards Rosalie and the Neries kid. Already, he thought this guy better get off of their turf, but this was. . . This was something else entirely. But, he would hold his tongue, as per Rosalie suggested. . . Shifting his weight from side to side, he would look between the two.

Then, Moa had the absoluely brilliant idea of trying to grab Rosalie's arm. Then the entire garden kinda just went to shit. Watching the vine, Camus was kind of surprise. Was this Rosalie's doing? Then the grabbing that would make Camus really worried. With only a little bit of a delay, he would push up his glasses and turn towards him.

"S-Stop that right NOW." He tried to sound commanding, but this was the first time he would even see any sort of conflict, let alone one of this magnitude. Taking a deep breath, the occultic flames would surround him and he'd prepare an orb of similar magic.

It'd be pointed right at Moa. But, truth be told, the Neries probably wasn't intimidated in the slightest by the NERD.
(Camus)
The towering vine was heard writhing in its own way and he glanced up a bit surprised

"It gets pretty big!" he states his eyes twinkling with excitement. Even as he looked up the vines would wrap around his arm and the invasive hand shredding into the silver toned skin! It was painful, yet his body was covered from various scars, and even a few sword blades. He winced and gritted his teeth as he pulled away hissing under his breath. Even as the vines retracted back towards Rosalie the tips would be covered in a silverish tint. . .his blood.

"Ah I didn't know that hurts you. . . . that is pretty cool. . ." he says laughing, though he finds Camus speaking in that soft voice and he looks at him for a moment as occultic flames surrounded the other boy, even as the orb of magic made from the same dark occultic flame was created he flicked a pinky into his nose and flicked a bogger at Camus.

"Shut up four eyes, jeez." he states. Sitting down quickly in the dirt,

"It must stuck to be a garden. . .stuck in one place." he states looking around crossing his arms across his chest with a look of concentration on his face. His arm was a strange deeper silver where the vines had broken the skin but he seemed undisturbed for the most part.

"whose your dad? Is he a plant man?" the child asked curiously. The more he learned about the girl the more interesting she seemed. Perhaps it was the anomaly of having vine like appendages that morphed back and forth?
(Moa)
As the blood touches the fingers there, she feels the sickening sensation of a suppression of her mana trickling through her body as the blood is... greedily drawn inwards to the burning feeling left behind in her. Bringing her hands up, she would soon pull free the cloak that shrouded her shoulders, dropping it to the ground in agitation.

Tugging lightly at the vest portion of her dress, she would soon reveal the pale skin of her back as she glanced over it. "He's-- An Oscuri." She spoke in a pained tone of voice.

A portion of her skin was literally blooming, a collection of roses at the small of her back as she cringed a small bit.

The worst part?

They took on the silvery tone of Moa's blood all the while.

"Guggggh..." She groaned out as she felt the thorns of the vines digging into her skin. "I think he-- didn't know what he was doin'-- when he experimented on me..."

There was a sheen of sweat upon her face from the pain, the exasperation of literally sprouting flowers painfully from your flesh that took on the appearance of blood recently touched upon.

"Don't tell him to shut up! Or I'll make you shut up,"

as she squirmed uncomfortably.
(Rosalie)
Camus really didn't like this guy.

Moa did what he wanted, when he wanted, and didn't care about anything else ever. He didn't care about Rosalie, or books, or the garden, or ANYTHING. It really angered the boy, quite a little bit. Teeth grinding slightly, he would take a deep breath.

When the booger was flicked at him.

It was like slow motion, Camus watched it flick towards him. . . But, because he was ready to shoot, he shot! The booger was completely obliterated, much to his amazement, and he would actually scoff a little bit. He wouldn't let his 'opponent' know that. Hell to the fuck no!

"Do you really think I'd let something as gross as youuuu touch meeee?" He said in that nasally tone, walking over to Rosalie's side. Just like she's done for him, he would be by her to steel her nerves a little bit. She had back up, even if the back up wasn't that strong or courageous or an Oscuri or plant. She had the back up from a nasally bookworm occultist.
(Camus)
Rosalie: fear???
He looked up as Rosalie groaned after explaining her father was an oscuri. By now her cloak had fallen revealing pale shoulders that seemed to still be blooming with a small collection of flowers. Something silvery and glittering. . . how quaint it looked like his blood in coloration.

"You're gonna make me shut up? You're like five." he said rolling his eyes as he stood up.

"Anyways I don't like smashing stuff without getting something." he says. A mercenary mentality already it seemed.

He looked at Camus as he walked over and began to talk in a nasal like voice on how he wouldn't let anything gross touch him.

"Hahah yowza big bad toughie!" he says huffing out his chest. He couldn't help himself given the scenario.

"Ok sooo. . .is this what you guys do for fun all day?" he asked looking around . . . for a minute he had forgotten they were in the woods to a degree. He was so caught up in how interesting the duo before him was.
(Moa)
"Easily."

Bringing her shoulders back to being covered, she would glare in the direction of Moa there, shoulders feeling a bit of that prickling pain as she hissed quietly. What did she do for fun, though?

Made plans to take over the Bygone. Tended to her garden. Kept up with her studies so that she didn't get in trouble.

...You know, things like that.

"So put up, or shut up. I bet you're gonna be cryin' when a four-year-old beats y'up."

Big words for such a tiny girl, it seemed. But... She didn't back down from the occasion. The very garden around them seemed to roar to life, the likes of plants squirming and writhing all around.

She was ready to lay the law down, anyways.
(Rosalie)
Camus: <*Well. . . He's just going to sideline he guesses. Rosalie has this. Read read read.*>
His eyes slanted as he looked at the girl carefully for a moment. The glimmer became even more dangerous the more 'mouthy' she got. A knife was removed from his side pocket casually.

It didn't matter to him as the garden roared to life. It was all just flowers, annoyingly sharp thorns and flowers.

"I'll just chop these up and then put you up. . .and then I'm gonna touch four eyes over there because he apparantly thinks he's getting off scotch free." he states.

He wasn't threatening he was merely standing his ground, and did not plan on being belittled.
(Moa)
As the knife was procured, there was a sudden, almost unintelligible sound that left her lips-- a roar? A scream? Who knew. It went as the truest testament that she was not a normal girl, not a normal holy magi, not anything that could've been properly understood here and now. Bringing her hand up, she would touch against her shoulder there as she felt the burning agony of the manipulation of the flesh colored vines attached to her hand, pumping energy throughout her being that told her...

Fight, fight, fight.

How vicious it was, the voice that harrowed and harped within telling her to do so much, telling her to stand tall, claiming that she was better than the rest of those that might've wanted to get in the way.

...She wasn't SUPPOSED to fight, she wasn't supposed to give Marula a desire to help, but...

Fuck it.

The vines of her hand were a deadly weapon, and she was going to use that weapon when someone brandished a knife in her direction. No holds were allowed to be barred at this point. He threatened her garden.

...Now she was going to threaten him.
(Rosalie)
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The garden was her element, her domain, and a place that someone should not have chosen to fight within. In accord to their master's plight, the plants seemed to turn into carnivorous monsters that would roar in tandem with her motions of hostility, the once peaceful, docile creatures sprouting teeth that should have never been, monsters in their own right. Smashing and crashing into the ground, they would aim to break free from their rooted confines to come after Moa, but...

Thankfully for him, they couldn't. The only thing coming at him properly happened to be Rosalie, whom would bring one of her arms outwards, and that hand that held onto the knife would soon find itself grabbed as she aimed to force it upwards, bringing her vine-ridden hand upwards to slam into his solar plexus in attempts to break free the wind he held in his lungs.

...Just like her father had taught her-- well, other than going for uh... a man's weakest point, but he had also told her that it was only a last ditch effort.

...And this hadn't become a last ditch effort, thankfully enough!

With various knicks and cuts littering her skin, he would see that they would heal before their very eyes, holy magic supplementing each and every one of her motions as she lashed and crashed, aiming to knock the other child down without a second thought, utilizing the 'weapon' that her hand had been crafted into.

...It yearned, begged for more blood-- but on the flipside... So did the garden.
(Rosalie)
Monsters in their own right indeed could be said as he fought against the girl. He slashed any plant and vines in his way, and as Rosalie rushed him and grabbed the knife slamming her vine ridden hand into his solar plexus he lost a bit of wind in his lungs, he retreated quickly as blue energy seeped from his body and burst forth.

"Alright. . ." he whispered wiping his mouth, even with the knicks and cuts inflicted she seemed to be healing fairly rapidly. His eyes narrowed. So he would need to hit just a bit harder to put her down than a normal person. No problem.

He wasn't one to back down from a fight and he planned on winning even if this was her turf. He backpeddaled and regained his footing even as she kicked and slashed trying to knock him down. As if it would be that simple!


(Moa)
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"...~"

Her head cocked a bit to the side, showing off a bit of that cocky nature of hers. It seemed as though she held herself in some quite high regards, a smirk upon her wild features. Still, her flesh healed over any assault there might've been there seemed, the golden glow of holy magic tiding her over for the time being as she stood up a bit taller. Resilient beyond belief, it seemed, and ready to take on whatever she had to to defend this patch of land they called their own. With each motion, with lashing and crashing, the garden grew.

The vine ridden hand would soon flex as she suddenly brought it outwards, extending it in lashing motion toward the boy as she aimed to wrap the offensive appendages around his body, binding him tight, and she would flex her muscle there, grabbing a hold of her wrist to bring him careening over her, slamming him down against the ground--

As he slammed, he would find vines breaking free of the ground... sapping his blood, drawing it out of his body, giving said vines a silvery appearance as she stared him down, dragging her hand backwards with a maddened look to her features.

"Do you wanna meet my Dad?"

It's cooed outwards as she meanders closer, one foot in front of the other.

"I bet him, th'Queen, an' everyone else wanna hear about you sayin' you're gonna cut up the garden, yeah? Sayin' you're gonna hurt me?"

The vines retracted, and he was given the chance to retreat here and now.

She wanted to see him run.

It fed her already bloated ego a little bit too much.
(Rosalie)
He had backpeddaled rather quickly a bit surprised by her strength but it was nothing to be underestimated that was for sure. He wiped the corner of his mouth and the knife flicked in his hands as the vines wrapped around his waist. Before he could cut himself free, he was slammed into the ground and vines snapped free.

His eyes were widened for a moment but he gritted his teeth in pain, and cried out as he lashed out at every single vine around him.

"I don't care who your dumb father is or bout some Queen." he hisses. Managing to get his bearings after a moment. His already dirty body was now caked in nothing more but mud, and his slowly drying blood.

"hmpfh goody two shoes nyah!" he says sticking out his tongue at Rosalie. So she was younger. So it was childish, but he didn't care.

He stuck his tongue out at Camus as well,

"I don't even like flowers they are ugly!" he yells covering up the fact that he lost with a somewhat stinging remark of sorts. He rushed off into the woods vanishing before anyone could stop him.
(Moa)
Radiant, rather quite so. A smile spread across her features as she lifed her fingers upwards, causally brushing them through her white hair as she looked around the area. Goody two shoes he said, but... Was it because of the holy magic?

Oh, she hoped not. In the end, too, flowers could definitely be ugly as well... Glancing toward the now calming garden, she would give a breath outwards as she plopped into sitting position there amidst the vines that tangled around, holding silvery hue.

The blood of a Neries, huh?

Tuckered out a bit, she would lay her palms down against the grass as she tried to ease herself into regenerating her mana from the intense show put on display. The area even seemed to reset itself, but...

...Camus could notice that it had grown outward. Significantly.

Oh dear.
(Rosalie)
Camus had, truth be told, been lost in his book the entire time. The fight was kinda just lost on him. But, he knew that Rosalie would have ended up winning. Eventually, he looked up from the book and looked around. Was the. . . Was the garden bigger? Huh. Naw, must have just been a miscalculation on his part,

Looking over at Rosalie, he would blink a few times. She seemed to be pretty okay, minus the silver vines that would be kinda surrounding her. He wasn't sure if she was okay to approach, but. . . Well, she kinda staved off the bully, or would be bully, if she didn't beat him up with her magical skills! She was pretty good. . . But. . . Camus would also be pretty okay!

He held his hand above her and took a deep breath. The water that was already in the air would start forming in rainclouds above her head. He grinned a little bit. This was condensation! Now. . . He would make it drizzle a little bit on her head and he'd lean over a little bit over his book to look at her.

"Sorry! You looked a bit thirsty after the fight. . ."

Cheeky bitch.
(Camus)
A tilt of her head upwards, and she would feel the spatter of raindrops against her features as she closed her eyes, a small smile touching against her lips as she felt the sensation of the water sliding along her skin. This was good. It was fine. After all, she had been sweating and feeling a little bit intense. "Yeah," she chirped as she laid backwards, arching her back a small bit to avoid crushing the silver colored flowers that had sprouted from her skin as she allowed the water to drizzle over her.

It wasn't like she was afraid of water, mind.

...And she was kind of part plant with her freaky, biomanced hand, after all...!

"Thanks! That's pretty nice feelin', anywho. Why would someone be a big baby when it comes t'water anyways?!"
(Rosalie)