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Almost nightfall. Almost time to get up and start again. Akal stretched out as he stood up, causing his bones to let out loud cracks. He felt old, older than he thought he was. The body he now claimed to be owner of was not old enough to have cracking bones. But it must have been, if they were cracking, right? Akal only had a rough approximation of how old this body was, though that was all he had. He knew that it had been through a lot, but that's all he knew. As he stood to his full height, his knees began to ache for a few moments. Akal let out a small grunt, signifying the pain he felt, but it was not enough to warrant any other response. He had remained undisturbed by the world outside of this little alley way, but there was no peace to be found. While others may have found the silence and isolation tranquil, Akal found that silence and isolation were rarities. With too many personalities to count all screaming at one another, it was impossible to find any semblance of peace. Akal cursed the man responsible for his captivity within this loud prison under his breath. Akal sometimes found himself wondering if he was always the way he was now, if he always savored the taste of flesh upon his tongue; but now was not one of those moments, now Akal had found himself thinking about the meal he had been unable to acquire.

The taste, oh the taste! What could it have possibly tasted like! Some people tasted like chicken, or beef, sometimes like dog, other times like cat, occasionally pork, once duck, twice turkey, thrice rabbit, and there was that one instance where the meal tasted like pineapple, cabbage, peanut butter, cashews, and deep fried pigeon, all at once. But the meal he had been forced to abandon, it was plump and juicy and ladled with fat and that crimson sauce and it was fresh, oh so fresh and and and and and and and and… and it had the smell of a visitor, not one of the wet dogs that this town smelled like. Akal imagined the taste upon his tongue, the oh-so savory delectable delicious succulent juicy rich appetizing flavorful luscious pungent divine zestful taste. It would have been wondrous. Akal closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. This town smelt of wet dog and the meals he had here were infected deeply with this stench, making them less appealing than they ought to be. Still, despite the stench of wet dog and the taste of said odor, he had enjoyed his time spent here. 

One of his victims here tasted of chicken, a flavor he was quite fond of, though he found that chickens had begun to taste less and less like chicken to him. That was an odd thought; maybe the flavor he identified as chicken was just a certain something, a certain zest in the meat of many of his meals, and not really resembling a chicken at all. Maybe it was a certain blood-type, staining the meats and flesh of his meals with a flavor dependent on which type it was. Or perhaps it was the climate that they were in, or had grown up in. He knew that overworked meat tasted less delicious then meat that had never worked a day in its life. Although, there was that one instance in which the overworked meat had taken on a unique flavor, different than the other meats on his meal’s bones. That had created a truly unique taste, one that Akal remembered fondly.

Akal exhaled deeply, expelling the stench of wet dog from his lungs. Was this actually the smell of wet dog? Akal had been using the term to explain when he didn’t like a particular smell after hearing Ishak curse one of his servants for bringing the stench into his monastery. Akal hadn’t smelled a wet dog. He didn’t even know that wet dogs smelled different than regular dogs. Maybe this town did not smell like a wet dog. But Akal would keep addressing it as such. It felt better to say then “this town smells like dung”. But regardless of the phrase he used to state it, Akal did not like the smell of this town. It lingered in his nose, forcing its way into his perception. Akal growled in discontent as he [i]felt[/i] the smell forcibly enter his mind. As Akal tried desperately to force the smell from his mind, he heard the unorganized choir of voices try to take advantage of his current predicament. They pushed together, chaotically, each trying to wrest control from Akal, each fighting for independence and never together. That made them weak. They fought not just Akal, but each other. Akal found himself silently wondering if any one of them realized that they would have to fight to maintain this position should they take control. 

His white eyes blinked, their gaze focused at nothing. Akal had lost the color and pupils in his eyes, leaving only blank white dots in their place. Even the veins he once had in his eyes seemed to be nonexistent. But behind these blinking white dots, he felt physical and mental pain. It felt like there was something pushing against the back of his eyes, trying to escape, but unable to do so. Akal pitied those trapped within him, perhaps because they pitied themselves. Perhaps the combined pity of all of these personalities leaked into Akal’s own, making him fell mournful for what [i]they[/i] had lost. Another question entered Akal’s mind: Did each of these personalities have a soul of its own? It was a strange thought, but one that Akal found himself thinking quite frequently. Akal knew about spirits, he knew that’s why magic was possible, or at least that is what he was taught by Ishak. Were spirits and souls the same thing? If so, then surely he would have more magic at his disposal if each of the personalities that plagued his mind had a spirit, would he not? Maybe they were able to use it, but he was limited to his own magical abilities. It was a curious line of thought, but one that haunted Akal. He secretly hoped that each of the personalities had its own spirit, so that they would remain untainted by Akal’s own disgusting sins. Akal was a monster in his own way, which was without a doubt, but he was not without empathy; he was just… wrong in a great number of ways.

Akal snapped back to reality. He had been leaning against a wall this entire time, or maybe he was just recalling his meditation a few moments prior. Whatever the case, as Akal stood up and shook the dirt from his cloak, he turned and walked out of the alleyway he found himself in. He saw many people, some looked like new arrivals, visitors. They would taste good. He saw a lot of similar-looking people as he walked along the darkening streets, or maybe they were the same person. Maybe it was a guild? Best to avoid them. One person he saw in particular stood out though, a man clad in armor, digging holes and putting boxes in them. He looked like he was in a park. Best to avoid [i]that one[/i], its meat was probably no good. Anyone clad in such an amount of armor is hiding something underneath it. In Akal’s experience, it is something unpleasant. Once he had peeled the armor off of a corpse only to find it embalmed. Disgusting. 

It was still relatively light out, though it’d be night soon. Akal did not want to wait more, but he would avoid doing anything for at least a few more moments. Venn was here somewhere but Akal could not see him from the ground. Maybe he was on a rooftop somewhere? Venn was weird like that, but he was strong, clever on occasion as well. He was a good guild-mate, one that Akal was pleased to call a fellow member of The Dead Triumvirate. But while he did not notice Venn, he did notice someone sitting down. A familiar face, well rather, a familiar [i]mask[/i] sat at one of these benches, doing something with a jar. This one was a weird one. Akal didn’t know his name, but he knew his mask. He liked the ones who wore masks. Masked men always have something to hide, he had once been told, and Akal’s imagination ran wild with theories. A tasty face probably hid under that mask, but he didn’t eat others from Necropolis unless he was ordered to by Ishak himself. Akal stared at the mask for a small while, trying to remember the owner’s name. Racks? Runts? Ruts? Rox? It was something with the letter R. Akal shook his head and kept walking. Almost night now, almost. It’d only be a few more moments before he could find another delicious meal. So many visitors! So many exotic flavors just waiting to dance on his tongue and in his mind.