Jasper believed that mortals were corrupt creatures; she experienced it as a mortal and as a higher being. She didn’t claim to be above mortal’s desires—she had as much selfishness, greed, and anger as anyone else—but she knew enough of the world to remove it. When that task was done, she would also be killed.

She surrounded herself with mortals constantly—yet their very presence told her that her beliefs were true. Every mortal that worked under her, carrying out the tasks she was unable to do, had agreed to follow her path. Not all of them knew that they would die at the end, but they all knew that they had to kill.

Over the past hundred years, Jasper had amassed something that resembled an army in its prime; people from countries far away and close by, all of which listened to her claims and agreed with her course of action. She only knew a handful personally, and even then she found it hard to speak with some. She grew to house the insane and troubled—the ones who believed their tragedies or flaws came about because of mortality’s flaws.

Jasper could claim one person as a friend; someone whom Jasper met moments before they would have died. The woman—Elionor Ieryd—agreed with Jasper’s ambitions and promised to stay until the end. Jasper had a goal to enjoy the best of humanity while it still remained; to experience whatever she wanted that she couldn’t earlier. Elionor often joined her.

Jasper’s deeds were subtle enough that her planned battles seemed to be typical skirmishes; perhaps it was another flaw that she wanted to enjoy herself while others suffered from her deeds, but she held on to mortality tightly. Due to the apparent normalcy of her attacks, she could enjoy a certain measure of public entertainment.

She always liked parties—any social event that she could dress up for was her favorite. Jasper and Elionor were at the latter’s small home in Relan; Jasper prepared to attend the local noble’s ball while Elionor offered some outfit guidance.

“I think you’d look good in a suit,” Elionor said, only half-joking.

“I’m not wearing anything other than a dress,” Jasper replied with a frown.

Elionor feigned a sigh, looking through her wardrobe. “At least you can wear something fancy,” she mused. With a wince, she closed the wardrobe doors. “I don’t have anything nice that’s didn’t belong to a dead person.”

Jasper thought about it for a moment. “Didn’t you buy a dress for the last party we went to?” She asked. When Elionor nodded, Jasper continued, “I have some jewelry that you can wear with it, and enough fabric that we can make it took different if the same people happen to be there.”

“I don’t want to take the jewelry that belonged to your dead relatives,” Elionor replied. “It will feel too heavy, and I might not make it through the night if you won’t let me drink.”

“The jewelry’s mine,” Jasper said. “It’s belonged to no one but me—it’s not the brightest, but I can wear something dull myself so we don’t seem too different.”

Elionor sat on her bed, gesturing at Jasper. “If you insist.”

Jasper nodded and left the room. She didn’t have much physical possessions—she could change her appearance, including clothes, whenever she wanted to, so there wasn’t much need for tangible outfits—but she kept whatever she had in a small bag. She retrieved said bag from the first room of the small house and went back to Elionor’s room.

Her friend waited while she put some of the contents on the vanity; a necklace and many, many rings. “Take your pick,” Jasper offered.

Elionor stood up and shifted through what Jasper had put out. “Some of this had gold or silver painted back over it,” Elionor noted. She looked at Jasper curiously. “These have to be older than you are.”

“They’ve been mine since I was a teenager,” Jasper replied simply.

Curiosity became confusion. “It takes decades for gold to fade enough to justify painting over it again. Am I looking at an old crone?”

Jasper chuckled. “I haven’t changed since we met,” she pointed out. She took one necklace and lifted it up. Elionor moved her ponytail to one side so Jasper could put the necklace on her. “How old do you think I am?”

“You look like you’re in your twenties,” Elionor said.

“Looks can be deceiving.” Jasper finished latching the necklace together, looking into the mirror in front of them. “That looks good, doesn’t it?”

“…It does,” Elionor agreed. She went back towards her wardrobe and took out one of the fancier dresses. “Let me get dressed and I’ll let you add some fabric to it.”

Jasper nodded and left the room for now, instead going to the extra bedroom. Elionor said it was Jasper’s, but since Jasper never slept it was full of hobby items and objects commemorating their previous nights of entertainment.

Elionor called her back in when she was dressed, and Jasper used fabric from the spare room to add a bit of color. When Elionor looked properly well-dressed, Jasper went back to the spare room to change her own appearance—she wore a few old rings, but otherwise her appearance was dictated by her ability to change it at will. They left afterwards, and both of them endeavored to make the most out of a grim time.