My Magick Spell [Reserved]

[NykinaEverlynn]

Ω Cuixtli Namacuix Ω

And I fortunately know a little secret
It's a talent that I always have possessed
Dear lady, please don't laugh, I use it on behalf
Of the miserable, the lonely and depressed, pathetic!

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Humans, they were so simple. So needy. Most wanted everything they could get their hands no, not happy without the things they quested for. Never looking at what they have, but rather what they didn't. It was something he'd noticed in all humans, every single one. Even the kindest, most selfless ones had a wish they fought to make come true. Though he would admit some, few, were willing to work hard for it. Others... not so much.

But then again it was this quality that kept him in business. Cuixtl offered an easy, simple, and somewhat painless way to get what they wanted. Simple, and easy, but no where near cheap. Over time the young-well young in warlock age- had learned just how to manipulate his clients. With a few careful words he could get them to offer up anything, even their eternal souls. Something that humans took for granted much or the time.

"H-how long is this gonna t-take?" A wake voice shook behind the Warlocks back. Pathetic. Cuixtl's fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead he forced on a sweet smile, turning to look at the man that set behind him. "Oh, not long at all. Just a few moments more and I'll have it ready." With that small reassurance the light brown hair male turned back to his work.

Slight sun-kissed hands moved quickly, grabbing the items he needed for this kind of potions. His eyes never lifted form the pot that steamed in front of him. He had no need to look at what he was grabbing. Having everything set up perfectly, in a place he knew it would be. And the ingredients all listed in his mind. Cuixtl's knew just what he was doing. He was skilled in this form of magick. Known as something of a kitchen witch warlock, the male did most of his spell over the oven. Using select herbs to cause the effects he desired, if he ever used an incantation, it was mostly just for show.

Placing the final item, he watched as a spark appeared over his work. A simple pop of light, fading only a moment after it showed. This singled it's completion. With a careful hand the young warlock grabbed a glass vile dipping the tip of it into the mixture. Sure to keep his fingers from the scolding potion. Once it was half full he lifted it, holding it by the tip as he place a bottle cap lossy in the opening. Just so that the liquid would not leak if turned upside down. Humans could be so reckless with things, and he never liked to make a second batch of anything.

He turned to his customer, the skinny, underdeveloped black haired male, whom set at the edge of the bar stool. His hands gripping the side of the wood, holding tight. Feet drawn up as far as he could get them without losing his balance. He looked pathetic to Cuixtl, like he was more of a small scared animal, then what should be a proud man. Though he used the term proud lossy for humans. "Here you are." The warlock said, carefully designing his thoughts behind a friendly smile. But when the human reached out for it the brunet pulled his hand back, taking the vile out of his grip. "No, wait. Theres still the small matter of your payment."

The mans dim green eyes widened. "A-about that... I-I don't have it right now... but.. but I'll-I'll get it." Almost instantly his nice facaded ended. The smile dropped and a glare meet the scared mans eyes. "If you can't pay the price you don't get the prize." With that the warlock tunned his back on the other male, moving and setting his potion on the counter. He heard the male rush to his feet behind, him moving so fast that the bar stool he'd set upon tilted and fall over. Creating a harsh bang though the kitchen. "But I need that potion!" He was shouting.

Cuixtl sighed, and touched to side of his head, a small pain working along his temples. "Need it you may, but their is a price. And I do not trust your kind to hold up to the payment." He heard a step drawing closer to him. But the warlock underestimated the threat a desperate man might be, a desperate human was. The young man turned just in time to see the glamor of a knife being drawn from the hidden spot in his leather jacket. With a shaky hand, the human pointed it at him. "Give me the potion, and no one gets hurt." His voice seemed to have suddenly become stronger now that he thought he was in control, a smirk of sorts lifted his lips. It would seem the warlock hadn't been the only one acting.

But Cuixtl wasn't the type to take threats easily, or play into anyones game. This was his show, no one else. With narrow eyes Cuixtl's lifted his lips in a snarl. "You'll get nothing from me with threats. I told you your payment is to be made, and then you will get your item." He held out a hand, "Now give me the knife before you get hurt." The man matched the warlocks glare with one of his own, "As if." Then he swiped the knife downward. The sharp end meeting the flash of Cuixtl's out stretched hand. Blood leaked from the wound, red like most humans. It pooled in his hand, but the young magick user hardly seemed effected by the slash. "That was very stupid of you." His eyes seemed to glow a moment, but before he could retaliate the human lunged at him.

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Poor unfortunate souls
In pain, in need
This one longing to be thinner
This one wants to get the girl
And do I help them? Yes, indeed!

 

[Sorrow_Mirth_and_Sin]

Syracuse watched the goings on from under the table. It was a tight fit for a beast his size, uncomfortable at best but mostly a great annoyance. Still, he preferred it. He had no more love for humans than his master - less even, if that were at all possible. Unlike his master, he did not care so much to be seen. It bit his pride to lurk in shadow or cram himself in whatever corner or hideaway he could find whenever Cuixtli deigned to entertain such guests. Some pathetic fluff of a kitten would do better to display such behaviour, hiding like that, hiding not from the tortuous child that was man himself but rather, his mere shadow - the thought of him rather than the flesh and bone and breathing beast. Syracuse didn't care. Injured pride still sat better with him. Better to be thought the coward than to cower before prying eyes.

Of course, all that meant nothing when the deal beyond his shadowed sanctuary went sour. He waited only a moment, giving his master the chance to right the situation himself but when the human lunged, so did Syracuse. As he stood and charged, the table overturned, clattering to the floor and scattering everything upon it in every possible direction. The effect was almost satisfyingly explosive, though the entrance was not nearly as impressive as the creature that sprang from the mess. Syracuse roared, the light catching beautifully in the stark white of his fur and the dark red of his mane as he attacked. The human didn't stand a chance. In seconds he had him pinned, one massive paw only just shy of crushing the man's chest. He glared down at the man, a king scowling at the muck beneath his boots, his head high, his teeth bared and deadly but it wasn't his fangs at the man's throat. His long tail sprawled almost lazily over his shoulder, flesh and fur giving way to bony armour plates and one hell of a stinger, blade like and sharp, glistening in the light as it dug into the man's throat, not yet breaking the skin. It was not his place to make the kill on his own accord, not while his master remained capable of making the call, and so Syracuse waited, every muscle tensed and ready.  

[NykinaEverlynn]

Ω Cuixtli Namacuix Ω

And I fortunately know a little secret
It's a talent that I always have possessed
Dear lady, please don't laugh, I use it on behalf
Of the miserable, the lonely and depressed, pathetic!

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Cuixtli's had fully expected it when his familiar Alcaeus had jumped from his hiding place and pounced on the human. The beast had always been protective over his master, a fact the brown haired male very much liked. Creatures like him were often hard to time, but he seemed to have taken some what of a liking to him. Alcaeus was an ally the warlock would not take of granted.

The human male shrieked in terror at the large beast looming over him. Eyes wide, he wiggled a moment, holding up his blade as if it would do anything at all. Cuixtli's knew it wouldn't leave much of a dent in his pets skin, but still he didn't want to risk the injury. Stepping up beside the beast, the warlock put the heel of his boot against the humans wrist, a hard press down drew another cry from those lips. The knife was released from the fist, cluttering to the ground. A bit of the warlocks blood stained the sliver blade.

The male glared down on the human. "Didn't I tell you that was stupid." And let the pleading began. Begging for his life, apologizing for his misdeeds, these were things all humans did when their life was threatened to be taken. All these things always went in one ear and out the other, complete ignored by the warlock. He did so despise their kind.

Lending over to grab the knife which had cut him, Cuixtli's observed the short blade while he went over his options on how to 'deal' with his little problem. He could kill him with his own blade, the irony of it might prove amusing. Or he could let Alcaeus have a bit of fun with him. But both of those would cause such a mess, one the warlock didn't want to have to tend to. In the end, he deiced on the secretive kind of killing. One that wouldn't result in much cleaning, and would still be as equally painful if Cuixtli's was to carve off his skin.

Taking the knife with him, the young male set it on the counter as he shuffled though the contents in his pantry. A cabinet just above his stove held many potions, some of the more deadly kind. The chocolate haired male shifted though it, looking for the perfect one for his attacker. The bottles clanked together as he moved them gently aside. Careful enough so that none of them would fall, and brake on his floor, but quickly enough so that he only took a few moments to select his potion.

The bottle he pulled had a melding of many deadly plants, including that of nightshade. Cuixtli had honestly never tested this on a person before, so he was unaware of just what effect it might have. Still, this seemed like as good a time as any to see what it would do to a human. Stepping back beside them in to long strands, the warlock knelt next to the human. "Bottoms up." He said, holding the males nose with his pointer finger, and thumb. When he opened his mouth for air Cuixtli's dumped the liquid in. Then he was stepping back, his hand moving out to touch his pet as he stood. "Thank you for your assents." The warlock was at least polite to those he considered friend. "You may release him now. I doubt he will be standing." A sly smirk lifted his lips.

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Poor unfortunate souls
In pain, in need
This one longing to be thinner
This one wants to get the girl
And do I help them? Yes, indeed!

 

[Sorrow_Mirth_and_Sin]

Syracuse stepped away from the human with a snort of disgust. He didn't walk away though, pacing around the body in slow, wide circles instead. Those sharp, red eyes seemed intensely focused, trained on the man as he lay dying. The beast paused as the man fell still, tensing, his tail sweeping out behind him impatiently. He didn't have to wait long for the pale misty light to rise from the body, the soul disentangling itself from it's physical bounds. The beast hissed, the long silken hairs of his mane standing on end as he moved forward, his wings extended forming a massive wall of leathery flesh. The ghost looked at him with empty eyes, it's scream piercing in Syracuse's ears but he pressed forward, intent on driving the ethereal thing away. Too many young warlocks didn't think much of the spirits of those they killed - most were incapable of even noticing them. Mortal spirits were generally harmless but a build up of them was never a good thing. There were nastier things out there that untrained eyes could not see, things that fed on souls and energy - a large gathering of spirits was likely to attract such a monster and when all the souls were gone, the thing was likely to turn on the warlock. Syracuse had seen it happen to powerful warlocks, it was not a pleasant fate and he wasn't about to let it happen to Cuixtli.

The spirit fled. It would be back but Syracuse would be ready to chase it then, over and again until the thing moved on. Mortal spirits were stupid like that, clinging to the mortal realm, seeking ends they'd never meet but it wasn't Syracuse's job to herald them elsewhere. He wasn't that sort of cat. He sneezed and tucked his wings close to his body to fend off the sudden chill that rippled through him, rubbing a massive paw at his eyes. His paw came away smudged with stains of black and his eyes still ached with a stabbing pain for the effort but that was the price of seeing things the living weren't meant to. All the training in the world didn't make an expensive gift free.

Shaking himself off, Syracuse turned and trotted after his master, his movements fluid and sleek. He brushed against his master's leg, butting his head against the man's hip in greeting. He nosed at Cuixtli's injured hand, licking at the blood with a rough black tongue and cleaning the wound, a guttural purr rolling through his chest.  

[NykinaEverlynn]

Ω Cuixtli Namacuix Ω

And I fortunately know a little secret
It's a talent that I always have possessed
Dear lady, please don't laugh, I use it on behalf
Of the miserable, the lonely and depressed, pathetic!

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

The brown haired male was a bit surprised to see Alcaeus act in such a fashion. After all it only appeared to him as if the creature was growling at air. Then he remembered the warning a few other warlocks had spoken of. Spirits tended to have a way of sticking around their body, more so after a death such as this. Now that he thought about it these things often happened when he killed someone. Over time the body count had grown quite a bit, but Cuixtli didn't quite make a habit out of it. Still he had killed a few, people that wronged him, other that had tried to back stab him-literally almost-and those unlike few that had caught him on a truly bad day. A situation of wrong place, wrong time that had cost them their life.

Deciding, to leave his pet to his work, the male slipped off to the side. Moving to the far back of the rather small home. It wasn't as if he didn't have the means to get a bigger on, but he simply didn't find the need to have a place to large for him. The home in which he lived held four rooms, one for his any of his magical items that didn't belong in the kitchen, another that housed his bed, another for Alcaeus in case he ever wished to sleep alone. Though for the most part he decided to sleep with the young warlock. And last was a small guest room, should anyone from the counsel visit him, or any other from the magical realm. But other then that there was a kitchen, a single bathroom, and the living room. It was just enough space for the two of them to live relatively comfortably.

The brown haired magic user stepped outside for a moment, stopping at the back steps a moment to lift his face to the sun. Allowing the warm rays to heat his chilled skin, his home was often kept cold for his potions to say in a useful condition. They sun caught his hair, chancing the shade to a light yellow for a moment before, he turned to his side and grabbed the item he sought. A shovel. "I always hate the clean up. But its better without blood." With a small sight he re-entered his home just in time for his familiar to move to his side.

A soft smile came to his lips almost seeming misplaced on the usually manipulative warlocks face. He lifted a hand, running his long fingers though the soft fur."You did a good job, Alcaeus." He spoke to him, lifting his hand only to place it back down to run though the fur once again. Repeating the motion a few time. "Now, how would you like to help me with the body. I'd hate to leave it in here to rot. Your nose is sensitive without that horrid smell." He dropped his hands a moment, moving over to the pale human. He lifted the toe of his foot, nudging the males foot lightly with his own. "Idiot." He said with a small shake of his head. "All of them."

His gaze turned back to look at the strong beast. "Grab the n** of his shirt and drag him out back with me. I'll began digging." He spoke to the beast as if he were just another human. And to Cuixtli he might as well be, after all he was smart enough to be one. The animal understood every word he said, from the first time he found him till now. True he knew his age must surpass his own, but it was still nice to know sure a strong creature had taken to his side so well. As he walked past him back to the outside, the warlock stocked him one last time. Then he stepped out into the sun to began work on the hole they would place the body in.

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Poor unfortunate souls
In pain, in need
This one longing to be thinner
This one wants to get the girl
And do I help them? Yes, indeed!

 

[Sorrow_Mirth_and_Sin]

The beast arched his neck under his master's touch, purring a bit louder. He cocked an ear at the young man's praise and then shook himself in acknowledgement to his request, circling back to the body. He didn't bother to grab for the shirt -- he knew better. It wasn't likely to hold, not between him tugging on it and a heavy body resisting his efforts and he didn't particularly feel like playing with shredded material just now. Instead he seized the deadman by the throat. It was a hold that wasn't likely to fail him and much more natural to a beast of his size and persuasion. He dragged the body out to where Cuixtli was working, releasing the deadman alongside the grave-in-progress and stepping back. There were indents on the man's neck from his teeth of course but no broken skin. The Manticore was a monster few would want to cross paths with but he was perfectly capable of exercising a little control and delicacy every now and again.