(Very R for language and violence)

It had been sometime since the prodigal son had set foot on Egjora, the start to his humble beginnings. Such that included sweat, blood and tears from his part, and also the stench of liquor and decay that filled his nostrils the moment he entered the shanty. The place seemed just as he had left it; shards of broken glass from the time his father threw a bottle at him spread throughout the entrance way, rats were still running about from the lack of upkeep and scurried away as he further made his inspection. The lanterns were on their last reserves of oil, barely dimming the room and from the lack of crude snoring taking place, Nemesis assumed that his beloved father was at one of two places; at his shop or at the tavern. If he had ever cared to make a gamble, all his money and worldly possessions would have been placed onto the latter. It was the middle of the night, and the man was known to close up shop near the dying hours of the day to escape his sorrows with his lips around a bottle or two. Or five. Much of what they used to have was either gambled away or used to make payments towards his pastime. Now all that resided here was a couple of rooms with some straw beds and flimsy blankets. There was no concern across his face for how the old man was doing, likely the feeling was mutual. If anything, the only downside of his departure for the man was that he had no one to clean up his messes anymore or to take out his aggression on. He was a loser in every sense of the word, and here was his son, that came from the loins of such a loser. The very idea drove him to chuckle softly as his eyes slithered around the broken home. The chuckle evolved into laughter, and further into a crazed enjoyment as he spun about the room with arms widely stretched out. Memories flooded his head, of having to put up with the abuse, every hit, every insult, every time he looked onto his father and could feel the hate in him festering up for the one being that was stuck with him. Oh, he was quite sure that the man loathed his very presence for no other reason than because he was a reflection of how pitiful his life was. Placing his hand over his face, Nemesis stopped spinning and continued laugh and laugh until he could no longer keep up the charade and seethed with anger.

There was a reason he had came back here, and it would likely be the last visit for some time.

He hastily made his way out without closing the door and lite his lantern. The light guided him through the dark alleyways on his route to the old tavern he would often pull his father out of. Each step filled him with a glorious sense of anticipation the closer he got. Through the shortcuts he had learned over the years, the journey did not take long. A mischievous grin right before he stepped through the door and immediately saw the person of interest. The old fool was at his usual table, picking at the peanuts from their shells and having some of his favorite drink, brimstone whiskey. It was as though his son had never left, the sight was no different than any other visit made here. Pathetic. Dull grey eyes looked up at the person coming towards his table and merely made a gruffed sigh. "Oh lookie here, my bratty arse son came crawling back! You look like you did the day I throw your arse onto the curb, in those worthless garbs and such. Oh, I know, you do want to come back home! Well then, gt on your knees and I might let you sleep on the floor with those rats if you be lucky!" He was making a grandstanding out of the encounter, despite the fact that there were few patrons here, and many were too drunk or self isolating to care. Hell, even the barkeep knew about the two of them and kept out of it, especially since the fool was his best customer. Nemesis himself merely stood on as he took each insult like it was a slap across his cheek. Apparently it only serve to set his father off even further as he clumsy rose from his chair. "Don't be lookin' so cheeky, I'll give you what you deserve, Jace. Perhaps if I had done that with your mother, she would have learned her place and they all be here with me! But no, she left me alone with your dumb arse. You're worthless, utterly worthless and now the whole wide world sees it too, eh? I bet ya it does! The poor boy from a poor working man like myself." Nemesis stood in silence, his eyes never looking away from his parent. He knew that it was one of the things that irritated him greatly. He look on as his face grew a bright red color and then the fist came from nowhere and connected with his right cheek. Stumbling back a bit, he felt the stinging on the side of his face, the intense pain as he stroked at it. The old man still had it in him, that was for sure. Sighing, he forcefully took him by the arm while his free hand kept on his lantern. "Let's go, father. Time to leave", he suggested.

"Well, I don't wanna…", he said, trying to struggle out of his grip.

"You can take a bottle with you, if you desire. But we have to go.", he replied. After some thinking, the drunk gave a quick nod and eagerly took hold of one of the whiskey bottles before they made their way out with Nemesis leading. It was a typical night for those around them, so there was no questions or concerns about it as they made it through the door and onto the streets. "Let's go father, this way." Leading him through an alley, his eyes lowered onto the man that caused him so much pain. Watching him fumble with prying the bottle open with his mouth so he could get to the contents. His eyes continued to look as the efforts paid off and the cork was spat out and he gleefully downed quite a bit of the alcohol. When they got far enough, the son pushed him down onto the ground. A smile formed on his lips over watching him struggle to get up and was in shock of what had happened. "Why you little, is this how you treat the man who raised and gave a damn about you, bastard?" Stepping around him, Nemesis took the bottle and then poured the contents over him, the liquid running down his head and onto his clothing and the ground. "That's what you deserve. But I came not for revenge, dear papa. I came to free you from this world, so that you can no longer suffer this existence you lived in for years. As the final drops came out, he backed away a few steps before carelessly tossing the lantern over towards him. It shattered as it hit the pavement and flame broke out. The man tried to scurry his way out but by then the fire caught up with his legs and ran up his body. Feeble attempts were made to try and stop the blaze, mainly him striking at it with his hands. But before long, the cries of agony shot out of the nightly air as his child watched on. He cried, screamed, pleaded for help but none was offered and it wasn't about to come for him. His form soon fell under the raging inferno and Nemesis smiled, feeling a great weight coming off his shoulders as his tormentor was being vanquished and his own personal hell was unfolding as the dying shouts ceased and he turned to leave the beautiful sight of smoke and fire behind him.        

Egjora was a fascinating little town. It was in the middle of the sea which she hated. Most people had to take a boat which she hated. However, the bar was good and the men were great. The soldiers were also charming. They graveled at her feet. Though it was uncommon for her to make a trip to Egjora occasionally she would make her way out here just to make sure her message was still being heard. It wasn't just that the men were good it was also that there were children who needed her kind words.

Hearing some commotion she blended into the earth and watched this dispute between father and son. It was sad that such parents were so rotten but it was the way of life. “To live and to die. It is your children's decision when it gets hard for a parent to live what they will do.” She melded out in front of the man and gave him a smile. 

Her long red curls were hanging against her back. A long green dress was against her body while the top was haltered up around her neck. The red rose necklace was against her neck as she tilted it and let her ivy eyes stare into the gruesome fire. “Tell me young one what did this disgrace of a father do to you to make you hate him so much.” She reached her hand up and her fingers did not touch him much merely lingered. “This man who's screams filled the air and probably caused many sadists to orgasm all at once.” Her voice was gentle towards him.

She lowered her hand and smiled towards the smoke. She blew a hard breath as the ash and charred remains were hidden. She did not like the thought of a fire being so close to her. “Lady Angela? Is there a problem?” A guard came by and Angela winked at her companion.

“Everything is fine. This young man protected me from an assailant. Please carry on I will to have a word with my savior.” The guard fell for her honeyed words and left her there. She sighed a bit and looked up to her new found friend. “Would you like to have a drink with me? Or walk along the water?”

He hadn't gotten in more than a few steps away from the blaze before he was called out to by a woman's voice. The private affair between him and his now departed father had attracted a prying witness. Normally he wouldn't even give it a second thought and continue on his way; Nemesis cared not for getting caught after doing the dirty deed and within time, the news that would grasp the attention of the rest of the city would die off when something more interesting came along. However, the voice itself caused him to cease moving and amber eyes slithered over to her direction. A woman of red hair stood near him, appearing as though she would fit wonderfully with the high society ideal that this city regularly portrayed. One would then question why she was in this riffraff section, but something struck him mentally. Something that caused him some pain and forced him to grasp at the top of his head. Stumbling a bit, he could feel pain similar to what had happened to him months ago; jumbled memories were being forced into him again. Of the silver haired man and another person, who greatly resembled her. They were at odds at times, but then came an image of her inviting him into her chambers one night. The next one that played out was that of her belly growing large and then the following had two babies cradled in her arms. They had eyes like her, but they appeared to look like the man as well. Then she was bestowed with great and terrifying power…

Red…goddess…

It was an experience he wasn't too fond of but it gave him some insight as to what she was, or had been. It was all so confusing as he continued to struggle to regain his composure. His nails nearly dug into his scalp as he moved to the wall to lean against. His labor breathing was becoming more controlled as he dug deep within to collect himself. "If only that was true, my lady. If only…", he spat out as he pushed himself off the wall. The heat of the fires licked at his flesh, easing his mind a bit. It helped to ground him and to serve as a reminder of what had happened and keep him from getting lost in the stolen memories. "Hate?", he mouthed at her before turning his attention towards his father. Silence grew around him save for the crackling of flesh and bone beneath the fire and then he smirked. "I fear you've mistake my motives. There was never any thought of that as he scorched away. Not a drop of it exist in my head for him. In fact, I did it to put him out of his misery." Nemesis turned to face her again, not a drop of malicious lingered in his words. In fact, the smile on his face only grew.

"He existed in a world most cruel to him; one that left him with a few coins here or there, marrying a woman that didn't understand loyalty and left him in disgrace in the arms of a richer fellow, taking away his girls with her. All he had was me, a failure born from a failure that had to be punished from time to time, and his precious drinks that brought him the little scarps of happiness in such a cold, damning world. I did what I did to free him from such an existence with as much mercy as possible." The fire was put out by her, but he still relished in the smell of smoke and ash, taking another look at the husk of the person that had been alive merely minutes ago. The man was too far distracted to even take notice of the guard coming towards them, but noticed when she fed him with lies. People would believe anything spilling from the lips of a pretty face like hers. She seemed well known if the guardsmen were concerned for her well being, and given what he had just experienced, perhaps she held an important role here. The guard looked at the pauper and then back to the woman and nodded before heading back onto the streets.

"Forgive me if I seem disinterested, but such a request is quite odd. Most would not wish to associate with one deemed mad by society's standards, especially if they had just murdered someone before their eyes." Serpentine eyes narrowed more darkly, "And if that person was their own parent. I find that the general thought about it would to put me on a pike or roast me from the inside out as a suitable punishment. But if that is your wish, then I suppose the latter would be more appealing. I tend to keep away from the seduction of alcohol." The charred remains close to them would attest to his belief. "I'm not like my father in that regard, I'm afraid."

Angela found herself watching the man with interest but she could not blame him. “True love from a child to a parent.” She put her hand up to his cheek again and smiled. That was all there was too it. For Angela she had seen and heard it all. From grieving people who could not get pregnant to parents who wanted Angela to take their children so they could be free.

The Goddess heard the man's words and shook her head. “You are no failure. You are who you make yourself to be. Take what people tell you and turn it against them. Make it into success. I killed my husband and child not because I wanted to but on accident because I was young and had just gotten my powers. I killed a lover I had grown attached to because of a deal we had struck. All of these things weigh on my mind. They are my failures but I have to turn them around.” She gave him a smile. “I am glad you could set your father free. Maybe in the afterlife he will learn what a good son he had.”

Ivy eyes gently looked onto him as she moved to his side and wrapped an arm around his. “I am not into society's standards. I murder people all the time. People who do wrong. People who try to challenge me. That is life. There is sanity. Then there is madness. I find walking the line to be amazing. A thrill.” She watched him for a while before looking off into the distance. “My own father had madness claim his life. I tried to heal it but I wasn't strong enough at the time. I can respect you wanting to stay away from alcohol.”

She hung onto him as they walked towards the dock. The breeze off the sea blew her red curls about. “I hate the ocean but I also like looking at it.” Her head went onto his shoulder as she stared out at it. “It just sits there taking life and giving life. Like most of the Gods. I've been a goddess a long time. I've watched almost all of my brothers and sisters get killed by the fall. It is kill or be killed. I would rather be alive.” Her words were gentle as her arm tightened around his.

Looking up at him. “I could give you it all. I could give you something to do and pay you well for it. I have many jobs that need to be done for me. I reward well. I like you and how you see life.” She stared into his eyes. “I could read you what you really want right now. You could come with me and I will give you whatever you want.” She could always use a man like him around.

The woman's words almost broke him out into a chuckle. For love. Was it truly that? Somewhere in that whirlwind mind of his, it had only made logical sense in pushing his dear old papa off his rocker and over the cliff. His feelings for the man had been that of disgust, but not complete hatred as he truthfully revealed to her. And his actions were done to free the two of them of their burdens, not because of love. Still, it was his own business to know that and didn't discuss it with her. Like so many others, he would allow her a peek into the first hundred pages of his life, but not the whole book.  

"Believe me, I know I was", he replied. Her words were sweet, but he made no excuses about the matter. Had he been stronger, he would have left long ago and made something of himself. But in this world, unless you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, or was one of the few lucky enough to be chosen to be higher than the mortals of this realm, life was a constant struggle for such like him. Back when he still cared to be called Jace, he had little coin and no one to depend on except an emotionally distant father that showed his love with a fist rather than open arms. Jace had held enough education to read and write and hadn't been suitable to serve at the academy here. It wasn't until he was gifted with the voice and some of its attributes that he was starting to understand the workings of the world around him. "Many do not find success in their lifetimes, and I was once destined for such a fate. I had saw no future for me save for becoming like…" He shot a quick look over at the corpse. "Suffering can not be helped from taking place. I ended him to cease his own, but there are plenty of people out there, still existing in ignorance and will not get the opportunity to thrive for something better. I merely stopped caring for it." It was a common theme, one he knew all too well. It was simply easier to be complacent than to go against the tide. And sometimes better. "He had shot for the moon as well it seemed", he spoke, the person in question would obviously be his father, but also could have been directed towards the entity that was like a parasite in him. The vampire had fought tooth and nail to have the world beneath his feet, but he was far too ambitious for his own good and now looked where he was at. "Unreachable dreams will only leave one crashing hard back onto the earth below. Yours seemed far more likely to be fulfilled when you faced them; either by the luck of the draw or by other means. Adversity can make one strong, but more often then not people are weak and are scared to admit it." The appraisal of his father seemed unlikely but stranger things had happened, he supposed.

The closer she came up to him, the more odd he felt. The gesture of their arms locked merely increased the anxiety in him. Nemesis was not one that craved physical contact for he was denied of the pleasantries that could come with it. Much of what he had experienced was quite the opposite. Despite, her words seemed to disagree with her gestures; it sounded as though the thought of delivering carnage and killings excited her as it did the voice in his head. It, however, didn't appeal to him as much. Injuries could heal and even death was a release; but those mental scars would never go away, and that's what he loved best. He did so not because of a sense of haughty pride or emotions, but because in that twisted world he relished in, it was only logical. Logical in the mind of a madman. Still, it would be lying if he said that he never felt anything for such deeds. While he did find such excitement, he didn't need to feel it. Despite everything that was thrown at him, his reason for this particular killing wasn't fueled by pent up anger, but instead to deliver a reasonablemercy killing. "Madness…is a broad statement", Nemesis spoke out loud. What many find to be madness could merely be something that their minds simply can not understand, or perhaps even fear. After all, everyone is all mentally conditioned in different ways, through experiences they go through in life. One's madness could be another's salvation.

Before he knew it, they were far from the dirty streets and out in the open towards the docks. It was a strange sight; a proper looking lady of wealth and class accompanied by a man that was the furthest thing from looking or being a gentleman. He felt the staring eyes on them and honestly couldn't have cared less. All were destined for the same end as far as he was concerned, no matter how high someone was. Material things and recognition meant nothing except to those that craved it, that couldn't live without. Having them or not didn't matter to one that had lived without either.

Again, some discomfort built in his being once the goddess laid her head down upon him. "It serves to be a double edge sword. Perhaps hate isn't necessarily the opposite of love, but is rather some absence of it", Nemesis said, managing to get the words out. After all, both are intense feelings towards something or someone, to the point where it could be seen as…an obsession." He glanced down to her. "Do you truly live, Goddess? Or do you just exist? Until now, I was existing until I met with someone, or the idea of someone I suppose…" The cryptic message was such a mystery to him as well since he himself wasn't actually sure who this "Nemesis" had been before their encounter.

Leaving his question for her to answer, he took a step back to open some distance between them. A look of doubt was shot at her. "What do you mean? You claim to have an understanding of myself when even I am shrouded by my own shadows?" Was she bluffing? But if so, then what purpose would he serve to her? Nemesis loathed this feeling of uncertainly that crept up within. It was all due to this woman and her presence itself; the thought alone drew up a grave frown from him. "I am no toy, Angela", he spoke, finally taking to her by name. "I have reason for no physical wants or need for gold. And I am one that doesn't enjoy being on a leash by another, even if they are divine. I am finally alive in this world and the last thing I desire is to be dragged back into a worthless existence, under the thumb of another. Just so that we are clear." With that, he sighed and considered the offer again with a much clearer logic. There were benefits outside of the secular privileges, those that were worth more than all the gold in the mountains. His dreary mood was lifted and a small smile curled on his lips. Once being the one to keep some distance between, Nemesis stepped over closer to her. The churning of his stomach for the invasion of space and touches lessened, being overridden by his thoughts of the deal and what it could provide him with. "That being said, such work could benefit me personally, I'll admit. Lying is a blatant waste of time for me, as well as for you, I can guess. That alone will serve me well, provided that I am free to do it my way. If you agree with such terms, then we may speak more of what you wish from this lowly pauper."