Xunzar

A Superpowered War

Name: David “Battery” Smith

Age: 29

Country of Origin: United States

Power(s): Joule absorption/projection. He can absorb energy from within a few meters of himself. He can then impart that energy to other things or simply project the energy in more direct fashion. This has had the inadvertent effect of making it even harder to kill him, since he simply absorbs energy directed at him—though only force directly hitting him gets absorbed without intent.

Greek Name: Iota

Side: Hunters

Appearance: Almost entirely unremarkable. David is about five feet, nine inches and a hundred and sixty pounds. His body is more like a lean athlete’s than a heavy combat soldier. His hair is brownish, though going prematurely gray along the sides—just enough that he looks like the everyman. A a rule, he wears either well tailored suits or t-shirts and jeans, most often long sleeves, because his only really identifiable characteristics are his tattoos. He has biblical quotes, primarily in Hebrew and Greek tattooed on his arms, chest, and back. Additionally, various proverbs in other languages adorn his skin.

Personality: David is quietly businesslike. Spending a good portion of his life under identities other than his own and doing jobs that require a certain detachment from his humanity means that he can be a bit on the cold side when dealing with others. It also means that what little personal identity he has he holds onto dearly.

History: Since the age of seventeen, David has been working for Classified. Working in Classified and Classified for two years after his training in covert operations. Classified was the first time he took a life directly.

The discovery of his powers has only enhanced his abilities, since it is harder than ever to kill him and he doesn’t bother carrying weapons anymore.

Other: David is trained primarily in covert operations. He specializes in working alone, the idea of having support is partially welcome. He normally is either given generalize instructions and a timeframe or a specific target. Information gathering is not his primary skill set—just troubleshooting (usually through shooting). These days he tends to use ice as his primary weapon; he absorbs thermal energy from the air to cause ice to form and then imparts it with that energy as kinetic energy to fire it as a bullet (with spin as per standard).

A Superpowered War

Elizabeth's head snapped up when she heard a voice in her head. Voices in her head weren't unusual, but they were either at her prompting or were ones she knew. This was a new one. That was an unwelcome development. She was fairly certain that she wasn't actually insane, just mildly sociopathic. She'd raided the minds of a couple of therapists to learn about such things to try and work out if she was crazy and while she might be, she thought it unlikely. Which meant that someone could get into her head. Which meant that her head wasn't as secure as she'd thought. Her eyes narrowed.

On the other hand, she mused as she mentally commanded James to pull the car over. A twist in her head to change the sound of her mental voice and another to place her in the head and Amanda before, That could work. Where and when? Her mental voice came out as a gruff male.

Another mental command sent the car back into motion. She would need someone to send to the meet. Preferably someone she'd never need again. Just in case. Well, there was an almost limitless supply of people in London alone. And enough of them would be able to afford to fly somewhere at need. And some of those could even disappear without drawing so much attention that things could become awkward.

A Superpowered War

Name: Elizabeth

Age: Seven and a half

Country of Origin: England

Power(s): Hive-Mind control, Telepathy
Elizabeth’s abilities are both immediate and long-term. She sometimes plants instructions for a later date. Victims of her mind control are linked to her and each other telepathically. She’s positive there’s a limit to the number of people she can have under control at one time, but she’s yet to find it; she can feel the pressure building in her head, straining her powers with each new member of the Hive.
An alternate application of her powers is essentially mind-rape; she can either passively or actively root through someone’s mind. Passively is less effective, but harmless (other than the violation of privacy), when she actively looks about, she shreds a person’s psyche. She has yet to gain enough control to get a medium between the two.

Greek Name: Alpha

Appearance: An inch over four feet, Elizabeth is mostly unremarkable in appearance; she has black hair almost down to her feet and the pale skin that at one time would have been the sign of a noble. Blue eyes that appear distressingly guileless. The oddity of her is that she often wears Elizabethan gowns (sized for her)—a habit she had given to her by her parents. The rest of the time, she wears jeans and t-shirts or dresses.

Personality: Elizabeth is a great deal smarter than her age would suggest. Part of being in a Hive is the sharing of information. As the “queen” it’s one way if she doesn’t try to share, but it means that she learns a massive amount from each person she inducts (those subjected to long-term Hive-presence). She has no concept of morality as it normally is thought primarily because she is not yet even eight years old. She knows basics, but has trouble with controlling her impulses. She can be cold, calculating and vicious, but she can just as often simply lash out at someone who offended or hurt her. Her powers have given her a sense of arrogance and entitlement: she thinks she has the right to read peoples’ minds and order them as she likes.

History: As a girl less than eight years old, Elizabeth has little in the way of a personal history. Her ability to remember things goes back a little more than a year and a half. About the same time she found her powers, she lost her parents. She is still unsure if those two incidents are related—she woke up in London on her own and when she demanded that a man help her find her parents, he complied and she felt his mind. Her mind is suspiciously blank on memories of her origins and she suspects that she may have done something to her family that she is unconsciously trying to block out.

As of now, Elizabeth has few fingers anywhere and has not really explored her powers outside of their short-term applications. She has a “soldier” permanently under control and she rarely goes anywhere without him. Simple pragmatism means that a little girl on her own is too vulnerable to wander on her own. The first is an ex-security guard. While not able to fight military scale battles, he can and does deal with commonplace trouble.

Elizabeth also has one “drone”. A young woman who works as a secretary, earning a little money which is then funneled to Elizabeth. The woman works as a minor person in a corporation that Elizabeth has yet to bother learning the name of; as long as it keeps her fed and comfortable, she has not begun to care.

She is aware of the danger posed by her and has come across one agent looking for her. It did not end well for the agent, though his remains have yet to be found. She regrets her temper, feeling that he would have been an asset.

Other: She’s working on controlling her tendency to lash out, but she’s yet to manage it properly. She’s been considering building a larger force in her Hive and even looking for others like her to work together for her (sorry, their) own protection.

OOC for A Superpowered War

Name: Elizabeth

Age: Seven and a half

Country of Origin: England

Power(s): Hive-Mind control, Telepathy
Elizabeth’s abilities are both immediate and long-term. She sometimes plants instructions for a later date. Victims of her mind control are linked to her and each other telepathically. She’s positive there’s a limit to the number of people she can have under control at one time, but she’s yet to find it; she can feel the pressure building in her head, straining her powers with each new member of the Hive.
An alternate application of her powers is essentially mind-rape; she can either passively or actively root through someone’s mind. Passively is less effective, but harmless (other than the violation of privacy), when she actively looks about, she shreds a person’s psyche. She has yet to gain enough control to get a medium between the two.

Greek Name: Alpha

Appearance: An inch over four feet, Elizabeth is mostly unremarkable in appearance; she has black hair almost down to her feet and the pale skin that at one time would have been the sign of a noble. Blue eyes that appear distressingly guileless. The oddity of her is that she often wears Elizabethan gowns (sized for her)—a habit she had given to her by her parents. The rest of the time, she wears jeans and t-shirts or dresses.

Personality: Elizabeth is a great deal smarter than her age would suggest. Part of being in a Hive is the sharing of information. As the “queen” it’s one way if she doesn’t try to share, but it means that she learns a massive amount from each person she inducts (those subjected to long-term Hive-presence). She has no concept of morality as it normally is thought primarily because she is not yet even eight years old. She knows basics, but has trouble with controlling her impulses. She can be cold, calculating and vicious, but she can just as often simply lash out at someone who offended or hurt her. Her powers have given her a sense of arrogance and entitlement: she thinks she has the right to read peoples’ minds and order them as she likes.

History: As a girl less than eight years old, Elizabeth has little in the way of a personal history. Her ability to remember things goes back a little more than a year and a half. About the same time she found her powers, she lost her parents. She is still unsure if those two incidents are related—she woke up in London on her own and when she demanded that a man help her find her parents, he complied and she felt his mind. Her mind is suspiciously blank on memories of her origins and she suspects that she may have done something to her family that she is unconsciously trying to block out.

As of now, Elizabeth has few fingers anywhere and has not really explored her powers outside of their short-term applications. She has a “soldier” permanently under control and she rarely goes anywhere without him. Simple pragmatism means that a little girl on her own is too vulnerable to wander on her own. The first is an ex-security guard. While not able to fight military scale battles, he can and does deal with commonplace trouble.

Elizabeth also has one “drone”. A young woman who works as a secretary, earning a little money which is then funneled to Elizabeth. The woman works as a minor person in a corporation that Elizabeth has yet to bother learning the name of; as long as it keeps her fed and comfortable, she has not begun to care.

She is aware of the danger posed by her and has come across one agent looking for her. It did not end well for the agent, though his remains have yet to be found. She regrets her temper, feeling that he would have been an asset.

Other: She’s working on controlling her tendency to lash out, but she’s yet to manage it properly. She’s been considering building a larger force in her Hive and even looking for others like her to work together for her (sorry, their) own protection.

The Dark Carnival

Baba snarled a few choice curses—a tree began to wither nearby—as she was told she couldn't use her magic in view of the locals. "Well then," she hissed, perfect lips curled back to reveal the teeth Hag had given her, complete with sharp eyeteeth. "I'm not sure what you expect me to do, Hag." She paused. "No, I tell a lie. I'll have to start selling crosses, won't I?" Her eyes narrowed, hidden by the drooping hood with its flickering mirrors.

"Though I'm not sure why we're here, Hag. If you don't want us using our powers, how do you wish for the Carnival to feed? Do you want us to use knives and axes?" She cocked her head. "Or are we planning on going hungry? Truly, why did you bring us to a place like this? Unless you want us to wipe it out?" She set her head to the other side. "Is that what you want, Hag? Do you want us to raze this town and devour the souls of the righteous?"

The Dark Carnival

Baba chuckled to herself as she sat in an armchair in her tent/wagon. It was such a lovely day and then Hag made it so much more amusing with that announcement. Any soul that fluttered near her ended up trapped in her mirrors. With her eyes closed, she leaned back and snapped her fingers. The tent folded itself up and stuffed itself into the compartment of her wagon meant for its storage. That done, the wagon rose up on its twin chicken legs and, four wheels spinning uselessly in midair, ran in its jarring gait to stand beside the office and await transport.

She swore to herself as the wagon jerked about while moving. She hated, hated, hated that! Stupid thing insisted on taking her everywhere. It even attacked the cart Hag had given her and fixed itself to take that one's place. One of her more "successful" projects.

The Dark Carnival

Co-post by me and Astarael

Baba smiled to herself when she noted that Vol had found them dinner. In the meantime, she had managed to sell a pair of charms to ward off bad luck. They would, of course, prevent bad luck, they caused very specific bad events to happen, though. In this case, the purchasers would not live out the week. Horrible wasting diseases cause problems like that. Her mouth flicked into a vicious grin.

“Come in, dear lad,” she motioned the nervous looking boy into the tent. She shuffled the cards between her hands. “You want to know your fortune, lad. Sit.” The cards flashed across open space. They were not ordinary tarot cards, she had made her own set to her own designs with their own facets and meanings.

Her hands danced, plucking five cards out of the air and setting them at points of a star before flipping the top card of the deck and placing it in the middle. “The Horseman,” she said, pointing to the card. “Soon there will be significant change.” The card had a picture of a man holding a pair of scales on a wan horse.

The card at the tip closest to the boy was flipped up. “The Scarlet Touch.” The card had a hand with a rouge-colored finger reaching out from it. “It will come from a dangerous woman.”

The next card, the one on her right, revealed a woman in a swoon on a fainting chair, her gown partially open to reveal a great deal of heaving bosom. Her face was pale, with bright red lips. Dark locks framed her face and spilled to the ground. “The Lover. You can expect great beauty in your life.” The boy was visibly eager now. Stupid, stupid boy.

The card on her left revealed an infant, alone in a basinet; at the correct angle, it looked like it was wailing. “You will be helpless in her clutches.” She pointed to the Scarlet Touch. “You see how it is inverted and angles towards this card? That means that it is the influence to which you are helpless.”

The card on his left showed a flickering flame that seemed to move as though actual fire were trapped in the card. “Swiftness in your fortunes. The lady who influences you is affected by the Lover—she will be most beautiful indeed—because of how the flame relates to them all and causes everything to happen quickly.”

The card on his right was empty. “And that is your fate.” She pointed at the blank card and then pulled back her cowl. The man glanced at her and fell forwards, his face smacking into the table as an image of him appeared on the card, struggling in the now visible bonds of a spider’s web.

She rose from her seat as the body began to disintegrate under the weight of the curses on its chair. She raised her cowl and returned her cards to their place at her hip. Once that was done, she strode from the tent, not bothering to worry about anyone trying to rob it, and began looking for Vol, taking her time to see if he found her first.Vol had spent much time wooing his family, it had been enjoyable. He was growing hungry, but he enjoyed the waiting as much as the wooing. When they left for the day, they had seen little having spent most of their time with Vol, he knew they would be back, all of them. He didn’t say anything however, simply smiled as a gracious host might, bowed deeply, and told them they would always be welcome in his home.”

He leaned against a tent pole, watching them leave with his charming smile never wavering. He noted both the husband and the wife made it a point to look over their shoulder and meet his eyes.

When they were out of sight he adjusted his hat, picked up his cane, and made his way towards Baba’s booth. He spotted her gracefully weaving through the crowd. He admired the way she moved, she seemed almost to drift. He wished he could move that way.

He quickly caught up to her and fell into step. Well tried, he simply couldn’t match her smooth gait.

“The husband will be visiting me. He is hesitant, naturally, but he is far to curious to resist. The wife will too, and she will have to bring the child because the husband will not be home to watch the girl. You might find it in your heart to help the woman see just what her faithful devoted husband is up to. I will have quite a bit to share with him; it will take some time. Plenty of opportunity for the faithful wife, never mind she was on her way to being unfaithful herself, to discover just how devoted her husband is.”Baba chuckled, the sound tinkling in the air. That the sound was so kind and feminine was vastly opposed to her nature and what they were discussing. Her visible mouth became a shining smile of indulgence. “Young Vol, you have such a knack for this kind of thing. It amuses me so much that you can just set this in motion at the drop of a hat.”

Her hand swept wide, taking in the carnival. “Such fun we can have out there. I’m so glad that to find someone able to understand what I mean. Ignorant peasants.” She scowled, perfect features turning cold and cruel for a moment.

Her smile returned, vague and benevolent. She modeled it on a picture she had seen once while in Italy. “I’m sure I can help the young woman understand how loyal her husband and father of her child is. It’s such a shame that she may have encountered a charm that unleashes her rage. It’s horrible to think how easily she might find a way of hurting him, given a bit of advice.”“My talents make my life enjoyable Lady Baba, though others may hate me for it I find I don’t much care what they think. Even the most pious people are prone to lust. It’s a simple thing to manipulate and my great pleasure to assist them in freeing their lustful side. I’m glad I could be useful. I really am a simple man after all. Till later then.”

He strolled off, whistling as he left.

****

The hesitant tap at his tent flap came as no surprise and Vol pulled it back without speaking. He waved the visitor in. Andrei, that was the husband’s name, looked a bit uncertain but entered and Vol closed the flap behind him.

“Welcome” he said smoothly. “I wasn’t sure you would come.” A lie of course, he knew his own skill. He knew Andrei would come.

“May I offer you some vodka?” he asked setting an open bottle and two shot glasses on a table in the room.

Andrei nodded and sat down, looking nervous. Two shots of vodka later and he seemed a little calmer. Vol slid the bottle away, he hated dealing with inebriated lovers.

The silence seemed to stretch on and on, Andrei had yet to say anything. Vol didn’t speak either, he knew the value of silence, but he slipped up behind the young man and casually began massaging his shoulders.

It was another several minutes before Andrei spoke.

“I don’t know why I’m here” he said confusion evident in his voice.

Vol sat down nearby and smiled a very attractive smile at the confused man.

“You were curious” he said simply. “There’s no harm in that.”

He lifted a hand and stroked the man’s cheek, causing Andrei to jump up and backward.

“No” he said forcefully. “No that’s not what I meant. I…”

Vol rose smoothly and walked forward, reaching out and grabbing the man in a grip that was unyielding, soft but unbreakable.

Without waiting he kissed the man, deeply, passionately, possessively.

Andrei fought him, shoved him backward.

“What?” the man hissed in a whisper. “That’s not why, I mean. Leave me alone.”

Vol leaped back gracefully, his smile never wavering but his eyes held Andrei’s. He said nothing, he knew this game to well. He knew what came next, but it would have to be Andrei who made the next move.

Suddenly it was like something snapped and Andrei leaped forward, drawing Vol close, kissing him, this time it was softer, welcoming.

Vol smiled and circled his arms around his new lover, this was what he had been waiting for. He kissed him back with fervor.

“Come love” he whispered. “Let me satisfy your curiosity.”

Quietly he led the man to his bed. This would take time, plenty of time. He wondered if the wife was already watching the two of them.Baba was amused by being called “Lady”. She hadn’t had that level of respect in a long time. Even if Vol were being mocking, it was a nice change. It didn’t take her long to spot the man peeling away from his wife and their child. It was painfully easy for her to intercept the two of them with an offer of a way to amuse the child.

Baba leaned down to the woman and whispered, “don’t you wonder what your husband is doing right now?” She motioned to a large mirror in her tent and stepped behind the woman as she began to narrate each action, just in case the mother missed what her husband was doing with Vol.

She felt the hurt and rage building in her companion as she watched and listened to Baba gently explaining, digging the betrayal deeper even as a spell was woven to leave the woman easy prey to her own fury.

“You know, Catherine,” she said in the woman’s native tongue. “You should get him back. You could destroy something he holds more dear than you. If only a man, a husband, a father, had something so dear that you could ruin it violently. He might be hungry after all that work. You could be a good wife and prepare him a special meal. I can lend you the pot if you like.”

The woman’s mouth was a vile snarl. Baba took the time to capture the child begging her mother for mercy during the pleasant bout of butchery. She even helped the woman season the dish with some spare herbs a customer had forgotten in her rush to escape the fate she’d been dealt. Vol would surely enjoy this as much as she did.Vol rested, his arms crossed behind his head, as he tried to figure out the time. Somewhere close to dark he was pretty sure. He had taken his time with Andrei. It had been truly enjoyable and now the young man was half asleep, sated in ways his wife had never managed.

Vol smiled down at him and stroked his chest, carefully waking him.

“Time to wake up love” he said softly. “You should be getting home soon. Your wife…”

Andrei paled visably. “My wife” he exclaimed. She can’t know, she can never know. This…”

Vol silenced him with a deep kiss.

“I won’t tell her” he said in a reassuring voice.

Andrei nodded and dressed quickly. Vol watched, admiring the view. The man was really quite stunning as far as males went. Vol was relaxed, rested, and sated. Andrei had talents, talents that Vol hadn’t expected in a first timer. It was definitely a good day.

Andrei left the tent, peeking around first before heading out. Vol followed a few moments later shadowing the man as he hurried to find his wife.“Remember to not tell him until after he’s eaten,” reminded Baba. She watched from the shadows as the woman ran up to her husband and kissed him. It was an impressive act. Then the woman was dragging him into a ‘spare’ tent that Baba had put together. It wouldn’t last long, but it would survive long enough.

The woman ushered him inside, both of them not quite aware that they were still on the Carnival grounds. Baba admired how the wife pretended nothing was bothering her as she served up the main course. She slipped over to stand next to Vol silently as the drama began to unfold for them.

The wife began shouting some of the more inventive insults Baba had heard from a Russian mouth and was amused to hear some impolite suggestions about the man’s parentage and the effects it would have on his progeny. It was a long torrent of spite and hatred pouring forth. Baba wondered if there might have been some suppressed issues in there.

The big reveal was the best moment for her. The woman lifted up the covering, revealing their daughter’s severed head, the face still a mask of terror and betrayal. Baba’s magics began to set the stage for absorbing the souls as the two both became aware of how many sharp objects had somehow been left behind on the table.Vol leaned casually on his cane as he watched the drama unfold. The sight of the severed head bothered him, though he didn’t let on. Cannibalism was a repulsive idea to him, but the impact the reveal had on his former lover was beyond repulsion. Vol could feel the hate between the two, the fear, the disgust, and yet oddly it was still tainted with the man’s passion from the hours before.

It was a strange combination and a heady one. It was also everything he had been hoping for.

The man leaped from his seat and grabbed a spiked club. He didn’t even wonder why there had been a spiked club leaning against the table. He simply started shouting at the woman calling her every possible foul name for a female, and many that are generally reserved for goats, pigs, devils, and demons.

He was swinging his club wildly with each shout and Vol wondered if anyone else was hearing all the ruckus the two were making. They were certainly not quiet.

One blow connected with the woman’s arm, the spikes driving deep into her arm. Vol raised his eyebrows as the sight of blood seemed not to concern either of the two but rather spur them on. Baba’s magic at work no doubt. Or perhaps just sheer uncontrolled anger.Baba had of course seen to it that minor issues like noise wouldn’t be a problem. She would not be having her fun spoiled by someone complaining or raising a fuss. Instead, the sounds were trapped in the enchantments on the tent. She would trap them in a card later to be replayed for the joy of it.

The woman had grabbed a knife and slashed her husband’s face. And there were more words. Lots of vulgar terms for just about everything she’d heard of. They had begun to repeat themselves despite the language’s faculty for rudeness, when the husband finally seemed to begin suffering from blood loss. His wife knifed him in the groin and shoved him back to watch him bleed to death.

Apparently he wasn’t as dead as the woman thought. That spiked club lashed out, smashing her knee and then rose and fell onto her abdomen, tearing into her womb from above. Baba nearly clapped her hands at the level of carnage. Slowly, two drifts of smoke rose up. They both floated towards Baba, but she flicked one as one might an unruly child and pointed it towards Vol.

“Dinner.” She twirled the soul around her fingers before inhaling it and closing her eyes as finely crafted agony and horror mingled with rage and cruelty and spite. It was a dark taste, but one that she suspected might be addictive, if only for the rush of power that she felt for a moment as the soul was destroyed.Vol shook his head as he watched the two kill themselves. He should be using people in his animal training act, not wolverines. These two were equally as vicious. He idly wondered for a moment if that would work. It was a thought to ponder on another day.

Now though he held a hand out as the soul floated towards him. It was his lover’s soul. He almost always consumed the souls of his lovers, he was familiar with that taste. He loved how delicious a soul that had truly connected to him on an intimate level could be. This was like nothing he had ever had before.

It took dark, earthy, bitter, sweet, and very very rich. It was like a bittersweet chocolate torte from a prime pastry chef. He wanted to savor this soul for as long as he possibly could.

It was deeply arousing, to sip the soul down ever so slowly. He actually had to lean against something to catch his breath for a moment afterward.

“I’m pretty sure” he said softly to Baba “that that is the best thing I have ever eaten in my entire life.”

“The soul of one of my lovers is like a grain of rice, empty and inefficient, compared to this. A hundred lovers would be fun, but I doubt even they would satisfy in this way.”

“I don’t think I can go back now, back to those pale weak souls, so thin and unfilling. They satisfy the hunger, but nothing else.”Baba chuckled. “I can get close with some of my better aged works, I admit, but I’ve not had a rush like that in a long time. Maybe ever.” Her smile was cruel. “We make a disturbingly effective team, young Vol. And I wonder if you can find someone who can distill the soul the way I can.”

She placed a blank card on the table and motioned for him to exit. The moment they did, the tent collapsed on itself, leaving behind only the card, now showing the tent. “I have their little one’s trapped soul around. And I captured the mother’s cookery if you find yourself interested in those.”

The Dark Carnival

There we go. Sorry it took so long, but Mortimer is free to go. *chuckles* Esme and Baba will likely have an interesting time. Baba's first response may well be something about trying to work out what she is now that she's incarnated.

The Dark Carnival

Baba smiled and held up two fingers. Delicately, she touched a pair of mirrors on her hood and pulled away twin gray-green smoke trails. That razor grin was on her face again as she twitched her fingers, causing the smoke to pool in her hand in two balls which she held out to Mortimer and Shadow. "I hope you enjoy them. I admit, they are rather flavored with despair, but I enjoy it. And well aged, too. I've been considering seeing if Vol is interested in trading something or other with me. I think he might enjoy some of my more carefully prepared vintages."

The souls floated up from her hand and closer to her guests. As they did, there was a muffled scream from the distance and one of her mirrors lit up. She chuckled. "Someone just tried to break into the ticket booth, I think. Or at least was planning to. I didn't have any other traps set to go off so quickly. Well, maybe Hag's office—but I'd probably just let them get in so he could deal with them himself. The lad is rather inventive."

The Dark Carnival

Baba's face went blank for a moment, then she threw her head back and laughed. The sound was warming—but there was a barbed tone to it, biting and pitiless. "Hag," she managed after a moment. "Hag killed his sister?" She was calming down, but still giggling a little. "Such wonderfully pointless sadism." She had a real smile on her face now. "Though I wonder what our esteemed Ringleader did to alter her state. Since you know naught of if and I did nothing, the only one left with the skill to toy with ghosts would be her killer." She giggled again at the word. "I suppose I should have known he had a sister. They always do. Though usually they didn't go mad until after they met me." She was still giggling. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Mortimer. Shadow. I decided not to keep odd things to myself." She cocked her head. "Can I offer either of you a nicely aged soul? I have a pair of twin girls murdered by their father whom I don't need anymore. They already flavored him nicely."