The cold is never too far

The home was entirely frozen over. Jagged spires of ice breaching through the roof walls and  responsible for both the homes destruction as well as keeping the remaining sections upright. Black eyes narrowed, curious what could have created such a scene. It was lucky that the scene itself was covered up to avoid humans wandering in and making assumptions that would lead to uncomfortable conclusions. Lost within the thick glamour around the home where something had been brought through or created. Governments of man wanted him but people like Osiris and others didn’t quite care that he was moving about despite having killed multiple cultists.  Mostly because they knew what these cultists did compared to the more skeptical human populace who believed that magic could not exist and any other proof was just metahumans.

His breath frosted in the air as he stepped through the ruined doorway. Hearing the creak of the frame threatening to fall down upon him. Cold nipped at his flesh and sent a few shudders up his spine, reminding him why he heated dealing with cold based cases. A siren sounded off in the distance, police responding to another case entirely he had the feeling. Not like the local mages would just let anyone through their small cordon.

Adam gave him a message saying something about having other problems he needed to deal with, so he was short one partner.  He snapped to the sound of boots crunching ice frosting the floor, turning to a woman with hands buried into the pockets of her leather jacket with blonde streaked brown hair considered him.  ”Heard you were looking into a strange case, so thought I would help out,”

”Didn’t think you wanted to have anything to do with me,”

”Well I didn’t dump you, so I think that should have been enough a clue,” She shrugged, not even needing the prompt to walk further into the building and into a central room where the ice mostly came from. That was also where the statues were. Human forms frozen to the core with various expressions; ranging from fear, surprise to what he assumed was outrage. One even unaware of what was about to happen to them, and there was one pinned to the wall, blood frozen to a black, crunchy crust around the spire of ice jabbed through them.

”Here I thought it was because of my large d-”

”Well this is strange.” She cut him off, examining the corpse pinned to the remained of a wall. ”the others were frozen solid but this one was killed more...conventionally,” A brush over the dead females shirt showed that the fabric was not made brittle by the cold like the other.  ”wonder what could have done something like this,”

Samael looked pensive for a moment, considering the body before shrugging. ”Too many things I guess. Though that’s why they called us here while the scene is fresh, right?” Both of them nodded at that.

Voices spiraled, she still couldn't think, never think, one, two... She couldn't count. As soon as she tried, something screamed, not... Loudly, but it thudded in her head like a chain rattling when someone wanted to leave but never could. She could think about that. A prison, a eternal cell, wrists burning with cold steel and slippery with blood and torn skin.

Blood. Blood always seemed to curdle in her mind. So many voices liked blood. Liked death.

Death was another fine thing. So fine. She didn't like it, but she understood it. Understood what it was. She understood quite a number of things, but her perspective was flawed. She... She knew and didn't know. She knew the cell, but didn't understand why she was there, but a part of her did, yet that part was belittled by everyone else.

A cold breathe, and the woman stood. Woman. Girl. Man. She felt like she was all of them, but in the end, she had enough understanding to know which one she was right now. She looked down at the basement door, hidden under what was a frozen mat. After she had hidden for a while, when she felt safe enough to move again, it had been an effort to crack open the entrance, but she had, and now she... She could do whatever it was she had desired to do. Make sure it was frozen? Make sure no one else was alive down there, somehow escaped the surge from her making, like that other woman. They had survived.

And the anger took over.

She was still angry, and that was apart of that small voice, so small, so unheard, but so angry.

But that was when a sound echoed the frozen waste, the crunch of ice. Someone was here, she knew that, knew it instinctively, but it couldn't be  a bad person. She had scoured the house for them, and this was the last place she could find, the last rat hole. Someone new was here. Did she hide? Did she go out to them?

Her head was too filled with sound to work out what was right and what wasn't. "Shut up," She whispered to the cold air, but the voices only grew louder, more violent, what little control they had, was exerted here. Kill the intruders, beg them for help, run, hide. She turned from the entrance to the basement, taking careful steps to not slip on the ice as she pressed herself against the frozen wall, neon blue hair getting in her eyes as she leaned out to see into the main room. Where it had been done. The ritual.

She saw the stranger, two actually. They were investigating... Her. The she devil. The unholy saint. A guilty feeling spread over the woman as she looked away, back to where it all started. Practically hidden under the ice, several sigil's and runes, a pile of demon corpses that had been in the center, but all that remained of that was blood, frozen blood, but enough it made a red like color to the normally blue ice. Her ice. She wasn't feeling so guilty as amber eyes moved back to the pinned woman and the strangers.

Would they hate her? She killed all these people, bad people, but people none the less. Were they friends of the bad people? They didn't dress the part, but she couldn't be sure. Stepping back, the woman's chest heaved with worry, and her thoughts drifted from keeping balance, a mistake she didn't realize till she slipped and fell backwards with a awkward and alarmed yell, knocking over frozen utensils, hearing them smash into small pieces as they hit the icy ground.

Panicked, she dragged herself to the basement entrance and threw it open, practically throwing herself down the semi frozen stairs, sliding and crashing down as she rolled to a stop at the bottom, dizzy and slightly sore. She looked up at the entrance, the trap door was open, in blind need to hide, spirals of ice formed in her hands as she wished for the entrance to be blocked and she slammed the orbs into the ground, watching as pillars of ice shot to the entrance and spread, creating a barrier to keep the two strangers out, leaving her alone in this room, chilly and not as badly frozen as the rest of the house, but there was no life... Only a cell, a cell the woman wondered too, staring at with wonder and fear.

The two were examining the corpse when Samael heard the sound first.

A body falling within the thickly ice coated floor, turning all in one motion to the shape that had fallen within the murder scene. The primal defense instincts within his mind all coming to his defense all at once. Shadows writhing around him until they formed undulating barriers between them and the unknown figure that had fallen. These shapes remained until they scrambled back through what vaguely looked like a basement. Which made him think back to the concept that there was a basement in the first place and where the thing that did this could kill these people.

Emlia had broken away from them and began looking over a deep, frozen spot on the floor not too far from them. Attached to what looked to be strange markings inscribed into the floor, thoughtful enough to draw his attention after withdrawing the shadows. ”What’re you looking at?” He questioned, still nervously tense despite things. Feeling the edge of daggers through their sheaths press against his legs.

”Looks like some kind of markings and blood. Maybe they summoned some kind of demon?” He questioned, golden fire springing to life around her fingers and casting their heat over the cracked shell of ice on the floor. Quickly conjuring up beads of water that rapidly spread out into bloody puddles. Stinging at Samael’s nose and reminding him where the scent was from. Demons?

”Well whatever kind of demon they summoned has a taste for demon blood. Maybe it isn’t so bad, ” His eyes scanned over the frozen remains of the dead people standing around them. Well, that brought so many things into question and he wanted to know more.

”Well that doesn’t sound like anything i’ve heard of. Think we should do something about it?” She looked away from the now revealed runes, etched deeply into the boards and left there.

”I don’t think we should kill it...not yet,” He said to himself, standing up and brushing away a bit of the frost. Approaching the basement and finding it blocked with thick pillars of ice he imagined weren’t there before.  It was obvious the woman had managed to somehow block the way as if attempting to keep them out. ”well it looks like they don’t want to talk to us,” He muttered with black eyes behind sunglasses narrowed almost annoyed.

”Let me see if I can deal with this without the violence,” Emilia stated, approaching the ice and unleashing a torrent of fire which seemed to melt through it rather quickly. Leaving a torrent of water that rushed down the stairs, save for the steam of it evaporating around her feet.  Golden light flickered through the otherwise dark basement as she reached the bottom, looking around to see what looked more like a cell. Her eyes focused on the form huddled in the coziest corner and knelt down.

”I promise I won’t hurt you. Do you have a name?” The phoenix questioned with a soft smile, considering the unknown neon blue haired girl.

The smell of fire. The hiss of steam, the woman knew it meant her ice was being melted, which meant whoever it was, was coming, the steps, echoed in the dark room, till finally, she saw the stranger. So close. Her words were warm, just like she was. They asked for her name, but she couldn't answer, her mind was too conflicted and her focus on the woman.

The neon haired woman was naked, yet her skin didn't pickle with cold as she looked up at the woman, who's name she didn't know... But she knew what they were. It was weird, so close, the first being besides that devil of a woman. They were not human, in fact, she knew exactly what the woman before her was. "You're a phoenix." She whispered, loud enough to be heard, before squinting at the phoenix as she tried to think of an answer. A name. What was her name? She had... Too many. Too many names called out to her. Names she didn't like nor want.

"Can't think of a single name... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to harm them if they were your friends. Except her. She deserved it." The woman spoke, glancing towards the cell, the flail whip that rested nearby, hooked and ready for use, hers and not her cell. It was the cell for one, just not this one.

Standing, the woman glanced between the phoenix and the stairs. This was... Nice. Someone was near. To talk to a living being, the voices were growing quiet, her head felt calm and she let out a relived sigh midst the hellish cold. "Oh... Can I wear your clothes? Umm. I should mean, do you have clothes? I remember that I should be wearing clothes. I think. Right? Such is a human custom, I couldn't find any and any I did were frozen." She asked non nonchalantly, as if the prospect was the most normal of conversations, or that she was too dull to realize the weird vibe that rubbed off her.

She gave the woman a strange look with a question half formed on her lips. How could she have known what she was? There were so very few answers to that question, so she just kept silent for a moment until the concept of clothing was mentioned. ”No, they weren’t my friends. They’re just dead people now,” She stated, thinking back to the people likely now considered more devious than originally thought.  Samael would be able to figure out something else, even if it were small little truths about what was happening here.

”No, the clothes are mine. I could probably find you a set of them though,” She held up one finger telling her to wait, rising to her feet before walking back up the stairway. Feeling Samael’s eyes on her as she dug through the various closets that were available until she could gather up a pair of women's jeans and what looked to be a simple white t-shirt. Quickly running back down the steps and offering them seemingly not bothered by the image of a nude woman with neon blue hair.

They were a little damp from her defrosting touch but would likely cover her well enough.

”Once you get dressed, you can come back with us. Me and my partner have a few questions about what happened here,” She turned to allow the strange woman the time to put on the clothes before ascending back to the ground floor, glancing out a half ruined window to see people walking beyond without regard for what was happening behind the glamour they cloaked themselves in.

Night was only half an hour away.

"Oh. Okay!" The woman called out as the phoenix went upstairs to find clothes, leaving her alone to ponder. Ponder being the wrong word when a dozen or so voices kept trying to speak, but since the arrival of the warm phoenix, she had been able to... Collect herself. Her thoughts were no longer as hazy, and no longer belonged to others. They were hers. She just had to figure out who she was.

"Thank you." Was all she had to say when she got the slightly wet clothes from the phoenix, but she didn't seem to mind, pulling them on with a little struggle, but eventually she was able to get them on. "Ah, yes. This feels right. Clothes. Hmm." She mumbled, patting herself down before deciding to follow the phoenix up.

She was partly sure of the reason why they wanted her to come with them, for the questions they'd have for her. Mostly, she had questions herself, but she was quite sure they wouldn't have the answers, much like she wasn't sure she'd have the answers for theirs. But it was worth a try, she decided as she made it back to the ground floor, careful not to slip with her bare feet, but she was distracted by the partner of the phoenix. "Half-demon... Do I know of you?" She asked, stepping closer to the cambion, before looking towards the runes, the puddle of blood mostly, a sudden look of realization hitting her.

"Oh. Never mind. I see. My mistake. Hi! I can't currently think of a name right now, but I am sure I will come up with one soon. Pleasure to meet you." The woman said, giving the man a smile, seemingly aloof, but for the cambion, her presence would be a oddity to him, however he took it.

Emilia waited to make sure  she was being followed before returning to the ground floor, feeling those dark eyes upon the two of them rather than one now. That gaze turned into a glare when she mentioned what he was, as if greatly insulted. ”I wouldn’t go about saying what people are like that if I were you,” He warned with a sharp, flat voice rising from examining the runes inscribed into the wooden floor. She could feel his annoyance with the woman already.  ”no, you don’t know me. I don’t think i’ve ever met someone who looked like you in my life,” Asmoday was closest, with her tendency to paint herself in neon and flirt with any mortal that mildly caught her interest.  Sometimes immortals.

Adam could attest to that much.

”So what do you know of what happened to these people?” He questioned, pacing the room and motioning to the frozen dead arrayed around them.  Something about the woman was strange to him; from appearance to even scent.  She spoke as if she were new, born only moments ago and maybe that was true.  ”I suppose it would be pretty obvious,” He felt eyes on him from Emilia, though he couldn’t tell what kind of eyes.

”You don’t need to be so obtuse Sammy. She sounds like she doesn’t even know who she is,” He heard the words, sighing and rolling his eyes.

”She’s lucky those vampires from Osiris didn’t get sent her. Would have set her up in flames,” He shot back, furrowing ginger brows. ”we have to figure out what she is and if she’s a big threat first. Trust me, it’ll be better in the long run,”

The woman pouted to the man's words. He didn't like her. Call it a feeling. A feeling that really sucked, because she knew him. Well, not her exactly. One of them did, a faint memory, never met, but knew. Actually, a lot of her memories seemed to know him, or at least, heard of him and the more she thought about it, the more the memories banged at her head, forcing a hand to come up to her temple, as if to catch the attacking memories.

It didn't work. "I'm sorry. I'm not exactly sure. I know bits and pieces, but those bits and pieces are all broken and swirling and angry." She explained, tapping her head and trying to force the memories back down, succeeding for a time.

Shaking her head, she walked towards the runes, standing in the center of the blood pile, looking across at everything, the dead, the two living, she closed her eyes and thought, tried to pull that small voice to the top, the angriest voice of them all. The human. "I'm... New." She stated, frowning. That didn't make any sense, did it?

"Umm. This... Was a ritual. I'm not sure what for... But there were three main ingredients. A human sacrifice. A pile of corpses... Demons, creatures abundant. And what I can only remember them saying was magic. I don't really know what else happened, mostly the memories seem to stop. I just know I woke up here. The building was frozen, and she was there." She stopped the story to point at the dead woman, conflicting emotions carried across her face, anger, guilt and contemplation.

"Meta. I'm not sure how she survived, but the sight of her invoked an anger inside me, as if I'd known her for years. Feared her for years. Hated her for years. Not me exactly, but... a girl, imprisoned, tortured. Isolated. And so I killed her on these emotions, these memories that keep fighting each other. Present and always there. A raven. A loyalty to a Queen, a King. Arcadia, trade... More." She paused for a moment, before looking to the two with a curious tilt.

What was she to do? She was made. She knew that, she didn't understand why, but she knew she was... Something. And she wasn't deaf to the half demons concerns. She feared his concerns. Her? Something to be felt threatened from? She didn't like that. Being considered a threat, not when she didn't even have a name. "Umm. I might be able to help with figuring out what I am? See. I... Just know what you both are. Phoenix and Half demon. I look at you, and I just know. Maybe if I look at me. I will know what I am... I'd also like to know what I look like." The girl lightly mumbled, kicking at the puddle of blood. It was surprisingly sticky.

Samael nodded along. Not openly believing her but listening to what was being said to him regardless as if that might mean anything to him. She had to have something to do with these deaths but what that meant was another story entirely. Emilia seemed to be the one willing to take care of the unknown woman, but that was just her. Always worried about people who weren’t immediate threats to her, though that might have come with the angel blood she claimed to have. All this woman could claim was that she was “new” though what that meant he couldn’t understand in the slightest.

Mentions of rituals from her, though he had guessed that from the scene that arrayed before them. More words, though the only ones that meant something to him was ravens and Arcadia; the first more than the other. Now that was even more curious, though he couldn’t tell what they were dealing with. ”These runes look like something that might make a golem but...different,” He finally managed to say once he worked over the words he wanted to say. Scenting the blood to catch traces of human blood mingling with the demonic that was also there.

He turned towards the sound of something being ripped off the wall and Emilia returning with a bordered mirror with a big of ice and dry wall crumbling from it.  ”Well if that helps us any I think this mirror might help us a little,” She stated carrying the mirror to them, holding it up so she could look into it if she were so inclined. While the two did their thing the cambion seemed to tilt his head to the side, listening in on something before walking away.

"Gol-lem." Rylie tasted the word. Did she know what a golem was? She might. She knew the woman was a phoenix, and had the basic knowledge to know that phoenixes are birds. Fire birds. Normally. Well, that was normally. It just meant she couldn't die. That was cool.

She turned her attention to the phoenix in question as she brought over a mirror. The excitement could be seen in the woman's amber eyes, her face lit up. She was so excited! What did she look like? Oh she was curious, and all the build up led to her silent discovery as she faced the mirror. She saw herself. A woman, amber eyes, blue hair. She was pretty. At least, she thought she looked pretty. Tugging at her lips to look at her teeth, pinching her cheek, it was a discovery. For the first time, truly, she felt real.

"Wow... Oh, right. Me." Nodding, she stopped touching her face to focus on the mirror. Focus on herself. What was she? Was she a demon? A human? A Golem? What? What...

A single word arced into her mind, and she looked away. Unsure. She couldn't quite catch it. The word was too... Weird. Unjumbled. As if it, itself, was not certain. She looked back into the mirror, expecting that nice face of hers. Only to scream. "No! Where! Where is the face!" She cried as she pulled the mirror from the phoenix with surprising force, staring at the face of man, his face a ugly thing. She blinked and saw another face, that of a woman with a deep purple tone, she was beautiful, yet her teeth spoke of a dangerous undertone. She kept blinking. Trying to find the first face, her face. But she kept getting more, and more, and more, till she finally threw the mirror away, breathing heavily over what she'd seen.

She wasn't them. She wasn't. She was the first face. "The first face is mine. Why won't they leave me alone! Shut up! SHUT UP!" She yelled, getting louder and louder as she banged at her head, collapsing into the puddle of demon blood... Not her blood. It wasn't her blood. She wasn't any of them.

She tried to focus on something else, anything else then the voices that kept crying in her head. Wanting to be let out, wanting a life that wasn't theirs anymore. She was sure it was just the memories. Not them. memories that demanded they be the memories that lead her life. So she focused on the word. The word that she'd seen. The description of what she was. It became clearer, and the voices died down, as she decided she couldn't be any of them, not when the word spoke different. "Angel... Angel... Angel..." She repeated, as if trying to tell someone off. Her gaze didn't seem to find anything solid to keep looking at, so she just panned the room, her breathing slowing down as she seemed to calm with the word. Angel. She was an angel... Why was the word so fuzzy?