Which Path?

Tapping a pencil on the spray of papers layering the small round table didn't do any good. There still showed no real path. Small spells. Herbs drawn carefully on another with small notations around them. Numerous scrawling of notes mixed in with it all. The small demon pushes one piece away and takes another from somewhere under the chaos to look over. Neri's fang has made a small grove of raw flesh visible from biting at the spot insistantly without really realizing it. There must be some remote part of her brain aware of her surroundings because there's a certain tempo in the pencil's tapping, as if keeping in time with Haven's music. She sighs to herself and thinks of the very short discussion with Kytara and her brow will crinkle up between as she rolls over things said.

There's no path she was taking but as usual was heading towards the bar. She happened to look up and spot a familiar face, calling out, "Kyt!" She waited with her hands infront of her, lightly gripped and wringing before she slipped them behind her. By the time the Shadow once Omega friend come up, she asks before she can chicken out, "...How did ya become undead?.." She'd already started talking when Nerissa blurted it all out. "Heya Neri.. Sorry was kinda off in my own lil' world... Errrrrr...." she paused a moment, kinda confused..."Osoth gifted me with undeath when I first died becuase of Sabriel... Why? What's going on?" Nerissa Dae lowers her eyes and gives a small shake of her head. "Just curious.." She forces a smile to her lips, as if she's just a little distracted more then anything. "Thanks..Appreciate it."
Before Kytara even had a chance to respond any further, Neri had backed away and turns suddenly, moving away.

Now, she sits in Haven and mulls over that discussion before slumping foward to rest her horned brow against the edge of the table, eyes closed naturally, with her glossy bright orange hair hanging around her face. Of late, she'd been thinking of the trying past where she'd been dead before Sieran had embraced her. Then, her soul was stretched between her and the node and it tugged at her and fed arcanum into her small wounded frame while she wandered aimlessly about, lost and confused. The memory makes her shudder. That's been a long time yet the memories are always vivid at points enough that she cringes.
Could she shed her demonic side and live...or can she have it exhumed..or whatever happens to it..and be like Osoth? A lich? Would she rot? Could she keep herself from injury enough that she'd forever be smoothed and unmarred? Sighing, she finds her thinking of such stupid things anymore. Would it be worth just giving herself to the Light and cross over? Give up her desire to be a necromancer. "Gah...get yer head outta yer ass and just live with what ya got, stupid girl." The words are a hiss barely, hidden thankfully under the music. But she finds herself looking over at an Omegan dancing on the pole. There's a clench to her chest, a pain stabbing deep and she fights the nostalgia of losing her way with them. Shaking her head and giving a small thump of horns to cloth covered wood, she sighs and sits up again to turn her attention back to the papers infront of her. She pulls a blank one out of the spray and leans over it, a faint scratching hiss of the roller ball to her ink pen moving over it.