One's Wily Ways [Silver/Closed]

Thank heavens that was that. The hybrid would often prefer... "stronger" language, albeit today was strange enough already. The moment of gruesome stabbing had passed, allowing the multi-limbed, presumed murderer to pass swiftly. Perhaps not silently, albeit their blazing carcass was all well and good enough. On that note, however, Celmaru collapsed onto one knee. A strenuous exercise such as that wasn't what the hybrid had become accustomed to in recent years.

Celmaru audibly sighed. Another point for the "Demon Child" board, as well. Of course. Nonetheless, it took Silver's interruption for the hybrid to take note of the weapon he still held. Didn't he leave this to crumble with the stranger? Apparently not. Regardless, the wear and tear dissipated, revealing a maintained -- albeit ornately engraved -- blade of grandeur. What game was this child playing?

Briefly inspecting the blade prior to Silver's intrusion led Celmaru to believe this was a setup. Was someone spectating this? Were there concealed cameras? Did he get "crank'd"? No one would just allow this to in the hybrid's possession, surely. Humiliation was on its way. Celmaru knew it down to his very cells. Leveling the machete for Silver to further investigate, the hybrid arose to stand upright. A few seconds of rest does wonders when you're paranoid.

The adrenaline began to dissipate. Fatigue set in. The hybrid cursed his meager stamina, albeit it was an issue of more rest being required. Oh well. For now, however, the child had suggested to utter "I do" whilst raising the blade. Whilst simultaneously attempting to ignore the paws, the hybrid considered that notion ludicrous. What Saturday morning cartoon was this? Celmaru scoffed at the thought.

"I'm not too fond of your games, Silver. Did you ever realize how much danger you were in just moments ago? And at that, I refuse to say "I do" while -- while holding this --"

The hybrid gestured to the obviously stolen weapon, raising it skyward as if to showcase it. Unfortunately, that appeared satisfactory for whatever bewitching force enthralled the blade. By some miraculous, spontaneous power of magic, an intense power erupted from within the blade! A ray of eminence rocketed into the sky with an intensity empowered to the degree of insanity! The hybrid reeled from this impact, haphazardly succeeding in still grasping the hilt; albeit by a pair of fingers.

The machete remained still within the air, refusing to comply with Celmaru's movements any longer. The runes upon the blade's form blasted the duo with a source of energy beyond what the hybrid could recognize. What was this?! However, a relatively short distance away, an eccentrically-designed starcraft was shot clean through by the brilliance in question. A dinosaur-esque figure trembled from the shock, alarms blaring and machinery whirring. A rippling shock wave rocked the systems down to their wiring. Something became a much more major player here. However, there wasn't a soul to bother this phenomenon.

Deep within, meanwhile, a lone fridge rattled. In time, its lower door clunked open, spilling foodstuffs and drinks alike in varying intervals. The frigid, steely floors of this spaceship became stained with all kinds of both alien and Earthling material. A pity for the janitor.

While not a soul stirred upon the invaded craft, a mysterious spirit wandered frantically. It wished for freedom. It yearned for a body. Something corporeal, something tangible, a form that was permitted to escape another side. Interference with nearby machinery, albeit alarming, were unprecedented; the spirit was passing beyond walls. For a moment; a distant, thunderous roar echoed into the streets. The hybrid's brow furrowed, a brief blinking gone twitchy.

"W-What was --"

Another, bellowing... croak? The spacecraft returned to its ultimately dormant state. Celmaru was baffled. Did he allow that kaiju-esque ship to come to life? Was that it? It was another point for the "Demon Child" pile, wasn't it? A lump procured itself within the hybrid's throat; not another one so soon. For one thing, jail was the last place the hybrid ever hoped to visit. A wave of depressive emotions hit him; he'd belong there though. Brows rose without question. The brief, stifling emotions that Celmaru experienced evened out his current state, albeit with more of a saddening edge about it. Regardless, this couldn't end well.

The spirit continued, ever frantic and desperate for a life. It wasn't much longer -- no more than a few moments -- until the spoiling contents of the refrigerator came into sight. Chicken breasts: too firm. Ice cream: too susceptible to heat. Oranges: too round. Eggplant: too phallic. Seaweed? It rots too evidently, too swiftly. It'd have to do. Flexibility and ease of use is essential. Methods to circumvent these issues would come later.

Ki began to manifest within a bundle of the sea's own natura. Celmaru took immediate notice. What was that?! As if on cue, the eccentric ship discharged a similar, blinding energy. It threatened to collapse its entire structure on its own! The hybrid's brows furrowed with greater discomfort. The hybrid's palms followed; curling into fists. What has he done this time?

In the meantime, the spirit condensed its form. The seaweed clumped together, weaving itself a body, a figure, a face, limbs, personality, a mind, a life. Features chiseled themselves as if they were clay. An appearance being molded from nothing and one's own desires. Eventually: another discharge. The spirit had been melded together by magic and the will to live; by a desire to see one and only one, above all.

Curled up into a pseudo-spherical shape, dainty toes began to unfurl and reach for the floor. Seemingly fragile fingers began to straighten, nails forming along the way. Arms unfolded. Both a bosom and a behind reaffirmed their positions. Lengthy, floating tendrils of "hair" wandered aimlessly beyond their origins. With such movement and readjustment, the spirit had concluded that this method of binding was loose. Yet, it lent itself well to what it hoped to accomplish. As for now, however, it needed a name. A name, yes. Something in Common. Hold. There was already a name it had.