Kat was dreaming again. This time, she was standing in the middle of some sort of market place. From the look of the place and its people, she was somewhere in Egypt. She was in the middle of a large crowd of people. Everyone there was either sick, or were bringing their sick to her, all of them begging for her help in desperate voices. For some reason, they all thought that she could help them, that she could cure them of their problems, of their illnesses. One family had even wheeled a coffin close to where she stood atop a small platform.<br/><br/>She frowned, gazing down at the coffin, who's lid was opened wide to expose the frail corpse of the little boy that lay within it. It looked as if the poor thing had starved to death. He was so thin that she could see the outline of his ribs. Suddenly, his eyes popped open and she gasped. His eyes were a pale milky white as they stared up at her. When she blinked, he was sitting up and grabbing at her hand, tugging at it. His lips were moving urgently and she could hear a confusion of rapid whispers, but nothing made sense. The words were lost in the havoc of the desperate crowd around them.<br/><br/>She knew that it was important to hear whatever it was he was trying to say. Somehow, she knew that she had to listen. So she leaned in closer, straining to hear him. His lips were moving at a blinding speed, his words growing more urgent as he continued to tug at her hand. Suddenly, he stopped, his eyes sliding to her hand. He placed something small within her palm, curling her fingers around it before he withdrew his hand away, laying back down again in his coffin. She glanced at her closed fist and when she looked back up at the coffin, he was lying there, just as dead as he had been moments before.<br/><br/>She slid her gaze back to her hand, ignoring the crying pleas of the sick around her. Slowly, she unfurled her fingers and in the middle of her palm sat a tiny dried out husk of a turtle shell. She frowned softly and was about to look at him to ask him what it meant, but when she looked up, he was no longer there. Neither were the throngs of sick, either. Instead, she was looking out over the mass of sand below and she realized that she was once again overlooking the large army that was approaching the palace ahead.<br/><br/>Suddenly, she felt a small hand take her own and she looked beside her, where the little boy was standing at her side, his finger pointed at the army, his eyes wide and sad. His lips were moving rapidly again and she could hear the whispers, but she still could not make out what it was he was trying to say. She looked back up to where he was pointing and she could see the fog that had begun to circle the palace. Panic built in her stomach. She wanted to warn them, to tell them to run, but it was too late.<br/><br/>The lone figure stepped out of the fog and suddenly, that deep reverberating sound was filling the air again, vibrating her very core. She fell to her knees and covered her ears, tears streaming down her face as she watched the bodies fall one by one. Soon, it was over and when the silence fell, she felt small soft hands on each side of her face, guiding her eyes to the little boy that stood before her. A look of utter despair filled his face and the very site of it made her want to weep. He leaned in close, a single tear trickling down his cheek. Suddenly, he was throwing his head back and a violent shrill siren's shriek left his lips as his eyes rolled back in his head.<br/><br/>She sat straight up in bed, covered in a cold sweat, shrieking.  Thankfully, she had purchased a muzzle to wear while she was sleeping so that the sound would be muffled if she had another of her dreams.  She finally came to her senses and shut her eyes tightly, her fingers moving behind her head to unclasp the muzzle.  Pulling it from around her head, she tossed it beside her bed unto the floor, hearing it clatter.  Her hair clung to her flesh with the dampness of sweat and she groaned.  She would have to shower.<br/><br/>It took her a while to shower, dry her hair and dress herself, but when she was done, she had her vibrant stop sign red hair brushed long and wavy behind her back to fall to the small of her waist.  She stared out into her brilliant electric blue eyes for a moment and almost didn't recognize the woman that had stared back.  When Professor had stolen her blood, binding her to him as he transformed himself into the first male siren, raped her and impregnated her with the monstrosity growing in her stomach, it had changed everything.  She felt as though her life was no longer her own.  The siren's instincts within her kept her from harming the child or allowing anyone to abort it, so she was stuck with this reminder for the rest of her days.<br/><br/>On top of that, she had found out that the child she bore was the creature from the dream, the weapon that had destroyed an army.  It had been gifted by the gods to help with a war, a weapon.  Her life meant nothing in the face of that.  She shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts and images of that night.<br/><br/>She turned and eyed her bedroom, her eyes falling on the acoustic guitar she had also purchased and after a few moments of hesitation, she moved to pick it up.  When she left the Inn, she walked until she reached a more isolated area away from civilization, hoping that she could find an area to practice her vocal power with less of a risk to the effects of others.<br/><br/>She found a spot, a stump of a dried, dead tree amongst the other ruin and she sat upon it, placing the guitar in her lap.  She took a few moments to make sure her strings were tuned right before she began to strum a haunting melody matching in perfect tone with the song she once knew "Spanish Doll" by Poe.  (m<a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SS4Be92cFl4">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SS4Be92cFl4</a>m) She began to sing the lyrics, her voice lifting and reaching out like velvet fingers to the ears, sweet and haunting, enticing and tempting.  She closed her eyes, focusing on the power within her voice, experimenting with the the power she put behind it, both reducing the power within it and then increasing the power.  Towards the end of the song, she began to focus on directing the effect of her voice, mentally repeating the word 'Calm....Calm....' over and over in her head to focus the direction of the effect.<br/><br/>(OOC Note:  This is an open role play, anyone is more than welcome to join.  If you are interested in playing the Professor's character, who was driven off when the owners of the Inn saved Kat, became of the blood bond between them and the primal nature he has adapted, he is even more of a crazed lunatic, obssessed and possessive with Kat.  The blood bond between them also prevents Kat from harming him with her abilities, especially since he is the father of the child she is pregnant with.  If you are interested in playing his character, let me know and send me a PM first.  I will allow you to have some leniency with the character's description and build.  Other than that, everything is free range.  If you wish to know more about Kat's race and character, you can check out her character profile here:l<a class="postlink-local" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=6&amp;t=45911">viewtopic.php?f=6&amp;t=45911</a>l))