The Elder Sister Hangs

The relationship of these two is a mutual one of give and take moving in unison.

By keeping Stolas as a consciousness, Gibbet risks being overshadowed and being put to slumber. Stolas has fused with the Stolasophia part of her soul, it allows her to inherit the power of the Demon God Pillar and the associations with that. It comes at the cost of being conscious.

Stolas similarly is asleep and suppressing some shared memories and knowledge, so long as she is asleep, Gibbet cannot recall some of her powers nor some of the details of her meetings and what exactly pulled them into being summoned.

Gibbet is thinking she was summoned by a familiar master, but her master just resembles “that person”. She is under the impression that her summoning is a determined summoning and that she matches her master personality wise, and it was a small chance.

Stolas knows that is not true and what happened in the void as they transferred over to a new world. As well as the Curse that followed them, due to the rules.

Stolas is a Caster Class due to being a demon and wraith, so her magick usage is superior to ordinary casters. Some of this is seen in Gibbet as she uses a Caster Focus to change classes and borrow some of this power.

Gibbet is an Assassin Class due to her shifty way of hunting prey and killing quickly in two decisive moments in her life, as well as her fusion to Carmilla’s saint graph to exist as a full demiservant. She has Presence Concealment and can project her appearance in anyone’s eyes while remaining hidden until her first attack.

“I just want to see him again.. Even if it was as a pile of junk..”

“All I wanted, was to continue on in a world they would not find..”

From her eye a single black drop fell, as her skin seemed to darken in shade.

Drip, drop. Drip, drop. Drip, drop.

Black tears of mud dripped like streaks down her cheeks. Her eyes narrow slits, and filled with an evil light, as mud dripped from her body.

She smiled at the woman.

The woman that revived her.

The woman she would now serve.

"I am most sorry... but you have given me the last push I desired. Finally~. Thank you, Maa.. I remember it all.. What a fool I was, I was never meant as a servant alone.. but a Pretender~." 'Gibbet' admitted, as the clothes on her changed form in light and reknitted to her as a dress that much resembled a net, and did little to hide her body.

"I am 'Gibbet', but that is a lie, I am Stolasophia and that is most certainly a lie~. I am neither her exactly, or myself, but the monster that left wishing to cage this world forever as a beast... because that is my heart's desire. One day, I will grant you a loving world, strung up with a 'gibbet'."

"Let us get along, and make us lots of allies~. And even stranger bedfellows~."

From the toxic mud, the wraith was brought back, along with her omens and desires.

Stolasophia, was and would play as "Gibbet", at the whim of her Master. She would live her lie, as the being always made of culminating powers and lost identities.

Pretending to be sinless, while being the daughter that spread evil.

Her final ascension.

She did not need to sleep.

Once again, sleep did not come to her after her summoning, and she looked at her hands smiling to herself. She was finally like her sisters, it made her happy. This body felt better, much better, it was made to be used.

Her nightmares never would plague her again, and she felt to an extent they would be worse now.

So she stayed awake and watched.

[ She ] looked so much like [ Her ].

But [ she ] resembled [ her ] insides.

It felt like a mirror.

She watched that woman slumber after exhaustive ‘activities’. In that state, she had something like time to herself.

She carefully took a book from the sleeping woman’s bookshelf. It was of malice that marked circuits, of human suffering, and of the grandest tortures.

She almost did not notice when the other yawned with a wakeful stretch.

She was curious about [ Her ] , but in this way she got as she had wished.

The ritual circle exploded with blue light and smoke.

From all that settled, a woman with light blonde hair stood alone, a metal wrapping around the red white dress that barely hung off her body.

She looked before her, and grinned with a deep squint.

A blonde woman stood watching the night, but nothing would come to change this rotten world's slow degrading.

"When will this Chaldea come.. Lord Beritoad?" She asked, looking out at the mountains.

"One day, we can only faintly signal and hope to attract an agent. Gero." A man's voiced croaked, a wet series of splats following along as he hopped out of his pot to look at the woman.

The ritual had given her a new outfit wrought like an iron cage, but with white thin cloth to obscure the open red dress.

Carmilla.

Gibbet fit her well, but a certain someone caused them to cobble her to form.