so i wrote something new. hurray. welcome to my obsession known as Soul Eater and how I love to torture OC's. enjoy. i also own nothing.


"In a while now I will feel better

I'll face the weather before me

In a while now I'll race the irony

And buy back each word of my eulogy"

'Amaryllis' - Shinedown


Chapter 1: So There's a List and a Runaway...


Daffodil

I fucking hate plane rides. There's no wifi, I have stewards breathing down my neck so I don't misbehave, and when my only source of entertainment is a stick in the mud with the sense of humor of a rock, I'm kinda in a tight fix especially since the second I land in Death City, I have to be on my best behavior because: 1) I am representing my people in a time of peace that will hopefully last; 2) I've got sins to atone for; and 3) It's the only way I'm getting coffee when I land so suck it up and try not to turn into a lighter for the hell of it. Do you see my dilemma here, kids? If not, let me sum it up for you: I'm a bundle of nerves ready to cry from stress and boredom.

"Don't you have reading to be catching up on," Bryant asks me and I mimic him under my breath but grab for the book that's been sitting wedged between me and the side of airplane.

Demon Weapons and Their Origins.

Don't make me laugh. I know the story cover to cover. I could probably give it to a room full of scholars with more detail that they could ever hope to find in twenty years of research.

The first demon weapon was made by Arachne who had stolen the blue prints from the Book of Eibon. Although the name of the very first demon weapon is unknown, it is said to be Giriko, the chainsaw demon weapon who happened to also be an enchanter. Due to his enchanting abilities, he managed to live eight hundred fucking years for that utter bitch to come back from hiding only to side with the wrong team in the end. (Poor bastard. Doesn't know where to put his loyalties.) Even after all that, no one ever found proof for or against the claims of Giriko's "firstness" so it was just assumed that he just was.

Which is totally false, by the way.

Giriko was created in the early 17th century in the village Loew located in Prague; not a time period near when the first demon weapon was made. Giriko was the first one to be born into a lineage to ever get it fucking right.

According to the witches' historical accounts and numerous of other texts that some DWMA scholars would kill to get their hands on and be able to read, it is written that the first demon weapon was meant to be versatile and usable by most anybody - even themself to some extent - but also retain the powers and aspects of a witch. Arachne is said to have used a human soul from witch lineage and a witch's soul, enhancing the chances of a magical and versatile creation. The weapon was also supposed to stay just that: a weapon. A machine for killing or infiltrating but almost always for selling to the highest bidder.

Of course, she never anticipated that the weapon would have a free will. She never expected for the poor thing to actually have wants other than to be sold to highest bidder and then put into a time-freeze or cryofreeze depending on the time period. No one ever expected a rebellion from the perfect weapon.

They never expected for me to grow a spine.

And it wasn't some gradual build up to the climax of your favorite superhero movie, no sirree. One day, I had to assassinate a very important politician at a performance of Shostakovich's Symphony No. 7. I heard the tune and just...snapped. I killed the guy (he was a pretty fucked up individual), and then went on to kill every single one of my captors. At the time, right and wrong didn't really matter. What did matter was finding this 'Witch City' I kept hearing in the back of my skull and getting to some other city to atone for everything I had yet to learn I had done. The real miracle here is the timing: right at the end of the battle with Asura and the hopeful beginning for an era of peace.

And that kiddos, is how I met the asshole to my right who is currently eyeballs deep in the wonders of The Eight Warriors: A Historical Account. Okay, being a good little emissary has gotten a little bit too boring and according to the voice above that could be God or "the captain speaking", we've got ten minutes till we land so better late than never. I motion one of the stewards over with a Glasgow smile plastered on my face.

"Hey, steward-person, did you know this isn't even my own right hand?"

"Dammit, Daffodil."


"Damia-Daffodil, it's not funny," Bryant grumbles as we walk out of the airport and into the Nevada sun. I laugh around the lollipop I'm swirling around in my mouth and adjust my satchel's strap across my chest.

"Um, yeah it is, Bryant," I tell him as Bryant continues to glare at me as I walk a bit faster so I'm in front of him. "Did you see her face when she realized I wasn't joking about my hand? Hilarious."

"I do believe that body part jokes were on the list," Bryants tells the back of my head and I roll my eyes and finish off my lollipop.

"Okay, I'll remember that Mom," I snort as I stop short in front of a cafe, making Bryant kick his foot into the bottom of my suitcase that I'm rolling behind me.

"Okay, how about a warning next time you decide to randomly stop in the middle of the sidewalk with an unreasonably heavy suitcase," Bryant whines as I begin to head inside.

"Courtesy later, caffeinated beverages now," I reply as he follows me inside and goes towards a quieter corner of the cafe.

"Whatever. I'm going to call up Ms. Albarn and Mr. Eater so they know where we are," Bryant mutters as he walks away, dialing our contact's number. I order a coffee frappe and a nice, hot green tea for Mr. I-was-born-with-this-stick-up-my-ass. After I toss out the white stick, I begin sucking my drink through its straw and think about all the stuff I have to move into Bryant and I's new apartment.

I go to sit down at the small table where my suitcase is sitting and look out the window, completely bored and then glance back at Bryant who is still fucking talking holy shit how many words can you say per minute. I go back to my frappe when some idea that will surely get my ass roasted in Hell later on pops into my head. It's devious and curious and a great way to get to know the city. And besides, I'm supposed to get to know the people, right? It's a diplomatic mission.

I'm still grinning to myself as I remove a small bottle of marjoram oil and some citron seeds. Time for a little game of hide and seek.


Bryant

I check out of the corner of my eye to see Daffodil sitting patiently, sipping her frappe silently while looking out the window. Good. Although it's odd that it smells a lot like some kind of candle and lemons...Hopefully she'll continue to behave until Mr. Eater and Ms. Albarn get here - Ah, speak of the devil.

"Bryant Davis?" A blonde calls out and I wave over to her as I move closer to the door to talk to our contacts.

"Just Bryant is good, Ms. Albarn," I tell her and she smiles in return.

"Then you can call me Maka. Sorry it took us a while to get here. We would've been faster if Soul hadn't slept in," Ms. Al - Maka tells me and the albino next to her rolls his eyes.

"Whatever Maka. Anyway, you guys ready to head on out?" 'Soul' asks, irritation evident.

"Of course. Let me just grab - Hold on a minute," I say as I turn around and notice that Daffodil hasn't moved an inch whatsoever. And she's still looking out the window. Her chest isn't moving and I don't think that she's really blinking all too much - Areyoufuckingkiddingme?

I walk over to the illusion and swipe my hand through the steam and see that not only had Daffodil been paying attention in her lessons but she had managed to create her own image using my hot tea, marjoram oil, and citron seeds.

"I'm going to fucking kill her," I mutter as I whirl around, her hastily scrawled note crushed in my grip.

'Hey there, Bryant. Let's play a game.

I am a tad bit bored with this humdrum movement of the day and this city is huge and new and I'm supposed to learn about the people, right? I'll be exploring. Have fun finding me! Much contempt and lots of laughter

-Daffodil.

PS, aren't I getting better at my lessons?'


Daffodil

This city is fucking big. And when I say big, I mean think of a big city now multiply that and then replace the color scheme with a Halloween shop. You've got Death City. It's like the bastardized son of Vegas and a really cheesy set of Halloween napkins.

Needless to say, I think it's entertaining and quaint and utterly interesting.

Of course, that could always be the lack of sleep talking or the caffeine. Or the new meds. Who knows? Maybe it's a mixture.

Being an emissary to a people who used to hunt your people down after you've been in cryo-freeze more than you've had your period kind of skews your sense of what's entertaining and what's viciously wrong. (Which would be - by the way: animal cruelty, any type of uninvited sexual encounter, and poor, thrown away stuffed toys.)

It's not that I don't know what's wrong, I just don't remember. It's kind of like when you have a favorite song from a really long time ago but you can't really put your finger on the words but you remember the tune and beat. You always know it's there in the back of your mind but you just can't put it into any plausible sense of thought. It sucks. That added to the fact no one else knows what happened to me but I do seem to have PTSD and an odd addiction to caffeine doesn't help at all.

All I know is that I'm a witch, I killed people for a while, had sex with people too, and I don't remember anything. And it's not like it's from anything they did to me. The doctor over the phone that's here in Death City - Stein I think it was - tells me that the memories are repressed from either psychological trauma or a head injury. There's no telling what with my shit memory.

But this isn't some shit storm of feelings about regaining memories, oh heavens no. I wouldn't ever want those memories back. Not a single amount of money or the promise of whatever object or intangible power would convince me to regain those memories. I'm here to atone for my sins. I want to make sure that everything that I've done - every single person whose life I've ruined knows that I am the one who has done it.

I want everyone to know that it was me. I want people to have the chance to finally pin their grievances and misery onto one person; one source so they can finally know what caused their worlds to fall apart.

I am such a fucking masochist. Sue me.

But that's not exactly my goal right now. At this very moment, I am hit with one of the greatest decisions of all time.

Do I go into the ice cream parlor or the book store?

Of course I could do both but the whole, maneuvering a book with a cone of ice cream is difficult and I really don't feel like dealing with it and either way I go about the stores, it only ever leads to one ending: soggy pages and sticky fingers.

"Why is this decision so hard?" I grow as I stand in front of the two shops. "Ah fuck it. He made me sell off most of my books anyway." I walk into the book shop and find that almost every single surface is covered in book and oh my God is this what heaven smells like.

The entire shop's atmosphere is comfy and old and smells like candle wax and well worn pages. It would be perfectly serene if it weren't for some obnoxious trio yelling towards the back. As I sneak over to them, I see a tall girl in shorts and a red crop top wearing cowboy boots holding a teenage boy in a suit back.

"Kid will you calm the hell down already! You're being a total brat right now!" The girl holding him back yells while another girl with shorter hair who could be her sister begins to giggle hysterically.

"Liz, unhand me right now and let me fix the store," the boy in the suit says through gritted teeth. That boy's hair...the Three Lines of Sanzu. The reaper boy? Definitely not what I thought he would be but his soul isn't something to laugh at.

"Calm the fuck down you dick!" The girl - Liz - growls.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Kid!" The younger girl crows and I can't help but giggle. I manage to muffle some of it but a bark of laughter works its way through my fingers and the younger girl's attention snaps to me.

"Look Sis: A pretty girl!" I feel the blush creep up my neck as I'm pulled from my stance beside a shelf by the hyper young girl.

"Sorry about the disturbance, Miss. This idiot here doesn't know how to control himself," Liz apologizes, still holding onto the reaper boy.

"Um, it's no real trouble. I'm a bit more interested in what his deal is," I blurt out and motion to the reaper she has in her arms. Her face goes back to homicidal when she looks down at the reaper who is glaring right back at her.

"He's got a problem with symmetry," Liz hisses. "I'm Liz, by the way and that's my sister Patti. This little shit is Death the Kid." Ah, the Thompson sisters: Twin pistols and also the weapons of choice by the now-Shinigami.

"I'm Damia-Daffodil." I look at the reaper kid again. "So, what, he wants to redo the store?" I snort and Kid looks me right in the eye.

"That is exactly what I plan to do," Kid says passionately and I blink at him.

"You're kidding right? It'll take you hours if not, days," I say incredulously and Kid shrugs.

"Balance must be met," Kid says simply and I stifle another giggle behind my hand. "What's so funny?"

"You know, symmetry isn't the only way balance can be met," I tell him as I walk around the part of the store he's looking at. I weave my way around all the books so I make my way towards the opposite end of the room. "Of course, symmetry in nature is a cool way of balance but there are other ways. Things like wrong and right," I explain as I begin moving a couple of books out of the way. "Order and chaos, passion and apathy, peace and war. Another thing in nature like the Fibonacci code-slash-spiral could be seen as a type of balance. Well, more like a pattern anyway which in itself is a type of order. That goes with fractals, meanders, dunes, waves, etcetera, and etcetera. Not everything has to be the same; it just has to counteract the other half." I move a couple more stacks around and finish my little pattern.

The piles are kind of set like dominoes, descending in size every three stacks and then going back up; kind of like a sound pattern.

"How did you…?" Kid looks at my little display in slight wonderment and fascination as I shrug. Liz sends me a thumbs up and Patty starts clapping. Of course, this isn't really my aim and just causing joy is a tad bit boring for a chaotic neutral like me.

"Of course, there's always that teensy element of fragility that comes into play when it comes to balance. All it takes is one push and-" I turn my head from the stacks to look Death the Kid in the eye as I kick my sneaker at the first pile to send it all toppling down, "boom."

"NOOOOOO!"

To be honest, I've always been more of a sadist than a masochist.


Meanwhile - Bryant

"What do you mean she ran away?" Maka asks me and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"I mean she created an illusion while I was on the phone with you and decided to 'play a game'," I explain for the fifteenth time. I can't read a single book of poetry without being bombarded with distractions but God forbid Daffodil get bored lest the heavens fall and hell be raised. She's like a goddamned child. Scratch that - she is a goddamned child.

"So how do we find her?" Soul asks as we being walking out of the store, Daffodil's suitcase rolling behind me.

"I can try to find her soul," Maka offers and I shake my head.

"Although she isn't all too talented in the philosophical and theoretical sides of witchcraft, she's adept to more, ah - practical uses such as spells and soul protect," I reply as I bring out my phone and open up an app.

"Basically anything we could try is useless." Maka states defeatedly and I scrunch up my nose as my phones begins to load slowly.

"So what can we do?" Soul questions and I roll my eyes at my phone because of course she didn't think about this.

"Daffodil may be a genius in some areas, she's less adept in others," I tell him as I tap an icon.

"What do you mean?" Maka asks and I show her my phone's screen.

"Lesson number one when dealing with a witch that has the mind of a ten year old and the technological skills of a person from the forties: Buy them an smartphone and never teach them how to turn off GPS tracking."

Then Maka's phone rings.


Daffodil

After I help the Thompson sisters move the unconscious Shinigami onto a chair outside of the ice cream parlor next door, I stick a lollipop into my mouth and quickly finish the candy.

"How do you finish those so quickly?" Patty asks and I shrug.

"The lollipops help me cut down on the smoking," I tell them as I continue to suck on the white stick as if it still has candy on it.

"Well, at least it's a healthier habit," Liz tells me and I laugh as I finally take the stick out of my mouth and throw it into a nearby trashcan.

"Tell me about it; I ruined a good pair of lungs because of it," I laugh and Patti giggles maniacally. I smack my forehead and curse. "Of course you guys think I'm not being serious."

"Wait - you mean those - these - not your lungs?!" Liz sputters incredulously and I wince at her tone. That's on my list of things not to joke about. Dammit. I even wrote it down...

"That's on the list," I mutter as I look down at the black marker on my arm that reads: Replaced Body Parts, Going Crazy, Getting Rid of Your Meds, Relationships, Anything to Do With Skin Bags, Don't Even With the Puns You Fuck.

"And yeah, these aren't my real lungs. Witches are actually some really amazing doctors," I tell them as we continue to wait for whoever they called over to help move Kid; some Maka chick and Soul dude. Cool name though. Step up from Scooter, definitely but not exactly high on the ladder of names but again, it's better than Scooter and there is no way you can get any lower than that.

"Liz! Patti!" A pink haired girl calls to the sister and they wave back.

"Hey Kim," Liz greets with a smile and Kim snorts at the sight of Kid passed out in his chair.

"Who's the new girl?" Kim asks and I give her a small smile.

"You're Kim Diehl, animal theme is a Tanuki, and you specialize in regeneration magic. Pleasure to finally meet the witch that is so very trusted by Shibusen," I say warmly and Kim swallows, looking at me nervously.

"How did you-"

"Know that? I'm the emissary from the witches: Damia-Daffodil," I tell her, sticking out my hand, which she takes with a shy smile. "I'm actually really impressed with your abilities as a meister as well; especially a part of the group Spartoi."

"Oh well, you know," Kim mumbles, a blush creeping up her neck. "It's nothing that impress-"

"There she is! The witch!" A voice calls out, cutting off Kim's sentence, and several pairs of running feet seem to come towards us.

"Oh shit, they found me again," Kim curses as she turns around. I stand and look behind her to see that there is a group of men - no larger than three or four - following her closely.

"I get the feeling that witches aren't exactly welcome here yet," I say through a clenched jaw as the men stop short a couple feet of the table.

"Not exactly," Liz replies, her voice strained as she starts to try and shake Kid awake.

"This is ridiculous," Kim says exhaustedly as she stares the leader down. I step forwards a bit so I'm at the girl's shoulder, hoping to resolve this manner in peace and not cause too much trouble with the people.

"It truly is," I say quietly. "What do you need of this girl?" I ask the men and they sneer.

"She's a witch! They deserve to burn no matter what the treaty says!" A voice proclaims and I glare at them. The treaty was put in place when Death the Kid came to Witch City to request our help in the company of Kim, Eruka, Free, Alisa, and Lisa. The discussion was successful and peace was declared between both weapons and meisters, and witches after the battle on the moon. Of course there are always those kinds of people who only wish for the "old" ways - dare I say it - "normal" ways. Constant fighting. Sending kids out to fight a battle they can't against a people just as afraid and doing the exact same thing.

War.

"Perhaps she is a witch but what right do you have to burn her?" I question and am met with nothing but a look of malicious and murderous contempt. My blood boils and I feel a mess of icky tar in the pit of my stomach.

"Get her!" One of them shouts but before the leader can even get anywhere closer to Kim, I have a Weighted Command coming from my mouth.

"Stay the hell away!"

"Damia-Daffodil Flores you calm your ass right now!" There's a tugging at my neck, wrists, and ankles and I start to feel a burning sensation. Does anyone else smell barbecue?

Ah, shit.


a/n: if you couldn't tell by now, i'm tryin out this new format for stories. saw it on a couple fics. promptly fell in love with it. of course i tweaked it to my own liking.

it's your basic outlining but a couple things as a note: every chapter title with either have the punchline or a name (tbex). punchline because Daffodil has a thing for really shit jokes. name because other things. also, the song lyrics reveal shit about our heroine as a person and what's she's done and maybe how she's dealin' with it. look forward to those. last but not least, nearly every chapter will be filled with the POVs and the 1st person shit and the switching but i'll try to get as much into one POV as reasonably possible.

again, new format thingy.

also, the witch culture and power and spells and things that are in the Soul Eater universe: making that up as I go and when I feel like. seriously, i made up some of that for a couple of months and it's just been sitting around waiting to be written. anyway, hope you enjoyed.

along with the whole spells thing. i have an obsession with flowers and herbs and their meanings and shit. i'll update faster and shit if you guys can tell me where the name 'daffodil' comes from.

hint: greek mythology.

oh, and as for the rating. it may go up because it can and it will and because teenagers and hormones and profanity and violence, etc. sorry. [not really] much love.

~zari.

and yes, daffodil's history is somewhat influenced by my love for bucky barnes. (*cough*#savebuckybarnes2k14*cough*)